Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, August, 2010

My life sucks.

This isn’t really so much a statement of quality as it is a description of my enjoyment therein. My life is actually fairly good. Turning 14 means I am in the big leagues now, or so I think. I can’t drive, or drink, or join the army, or do drugs or smoke. Now that I am thinking about it, I can’t do a lot yet legally. Soon I can get my learner’s permit though! So that is exciting. Or it would be if I didn’t dislike driving.

But that doesn’t really matter. Now, the problem I seem to be having is that life is, like, super depressing. I don’t totally know why exactly. Living in the shithole of a city called Brockton Bay didn’t help, but I lived in the rich part of town, with my mom, and I am currently heading towards my first day at the best high school around, Arcadia High. Overall, I live a fairly sheltered, at least for Brockton Bay, life with all my needs fulfilled.

But it isn’t enough. The world is going to end and some asshole with unstoppable superpowers is going to do it. Probably. I don’t actually know if that is going to happen but come on, eventually a Jack Slash with the power to nuke everybody is going to come along and we will all be gone. It sucks, but I have resigned myself to it.

This whole speech would sound like a nice introduction if I was talking to someone, but just monologuing in my head makes me even more depressed. My therapist tries to get me to focus on the now, mindfulness and all that jazz, but I am just not going to be able to do that, because now sucks even more.

Maybe I don’t deserve to feel this way but my mom always raves on about comparative suffering so I guess I get to rant on a bit longer.

I am bored. I don’t know why. I have a hobby that I like a lot, video games, and a ton of friends I talk to, online playing videogames, but even still there is this gnawing… is that how you spell that? I know I am not writing this down, but visualizing the words in my head makes the speech easier to do so now I am curious but regardless: there is this gnawing feeling in the back of my mind that I am too stationary.

My therapist, cheers to Abigail, says that it is a symptom of depression when I don’t enjoy any of my hobby, games, anymore, but I don’t think that’s it.

It’s almost like the urge parahumans have to fight each other that is theorized about in my parahuman studies class. Except I am not a parahuman, I checked.

For the longest time I have always wanted superpowers. Not to be the next member of the triumvirate or anything like almost every kid fantasizes about when they are young, I had that stage too, but more just to be more.

I tried almost everything that didn’t involve putting me in serious danger, I am not going to jump off a roof to see if I’ll fly, get real, but predictably nothing ever actually happens. No super strength, senses, agility or like fireballs or something. Which is a major bummer fyi.

Oh yeah I guess I forgot to introduce myself, even though that obviously isn’t necessary in a setting where I am monologuing in my head, but imaginary viewer this one is for you.

My name is Maddie, transgirl extraordinaire. I only figured that one out a couple of months ago, I am so glad my mom isn’t a nazi, also side note, what a sadly realistic problem I could have in the 21st century, ridiculous. Fuck nazis! Yeah me, fuck nazis!

Moving on, getting lost in my own head is a talent of mine. I talk and talk and talk for hours on end and still come out sounding like a holier-than-thou asshole to myself in my own head. Maybe I like to pretend I am smarter than other people by talking like this to myself in my own self-dialogues but does questioning if I do that overwrite it and make me smart again? Who knows.

My Mom’s voice suddenly interrupts my five minute long exposition dump for my life, “Maddie?”

“Are we there yet?” I ask in the most obnoxious voice I could muster at 7:30 in the morning.

“Look up,” she replies and I look up to see that indeed we are pulling into the parking lot at that moment.

“Huh.” Well The Monologue™ took up the majority of the 15 minute car ride so that is nice. She pulls into the spot and we both get out.

“Time to embarrass you,” my mom states as she pulls out her phone and pulls me close. She takes a selfie, or an ussie as she insists on calling it since both of us are in it, god that is cringe, with the Arcadia High sign as the backdrop.

“You could never embarrass me doing that Ma,” I reply. And she couldn’t, I know that popular media depicts teens disliking being seen with their parents in public but I couldn’t care less. I fucking love my mom.

We say our I love you’s as she hops back into the car and I head onwards into Arcadia High.

The first thing I notice is how I can’t really notice anything. High school is really living up to my expectations of being about the same on entry. I mean it is just a building, or at least on the surface.

DUN DUN DUN.

Nah, it really is just a high school.

The only notable thing is the Faraday cage around the school that they tell you about before you enroll that prevents cell phone usage, which I think might be illegal but you could not pay the police to care, or at least more than the Nazis are paying them anyway. But no cell phones was far better than getting shanked at Winslow down on the other side of the town or ughh catholic school at Immaculata. NO THANK YOU. I AM FINE BEING NOT CATHOLIC PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME GO.

Needless to say I am glad mom can afford to let me go here.

My first class of the day is english. Simple, easy, I spend hours talking to myself every day doing it on paper is not too different. After that it's math, then compsci, then life sciences, then finally art. Not too complicated for an even day, or odd day, or white or black or red day, or however they call the every other day class schedule here.

The school itself, while large, is not too complicated and reading maps is not too hard for me so needless to say the english class is easy to find. Go me!

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After math class is over I make my first foray into the true battle-torn wasteland of highschool: the school cafeteria. HOW HORRIFYING!!!! But kinda actually. Contrary to nobody’s belief I did not always live in Brockton Bay, in fact a couple months ago I moved to this city.

My mom recently got a job as the COO of Medhall Corporation, the big pharma company in town so we moved here for the opportunity.

Having just moved here I know absolutely nobody. I didn’t really get a chance to talk to anybody in classes either with syllabus reading in classes all morning so this is going to be tough. Luckily I have a key advantage that will help me get the edge.

The math classroom is close to the cafeteria meaning I am early, which means not every table is occupied. This means just choosing an empty table means I will either stay on my own day one, which is fine, or get subsumed by a larger group.

Packing my own lunch helps as well since I don’t need to wait in line for food. Now the question is which table. General positioning of tables is important in figuring out who is most likely to sit there. Or at least according to me it is.

Corner tables are generally more likely to be taken by less loud groups which transitions to the loudest groups being in the middle. I imagine stereotypical athletic boys will be in the very middle. The goldilocks zone, like in planetary orbit, is somewhere where the noise isn’t overwhelming but it also isn’t dead quiet because at either extreme I won’t be able to talk to anyone.

Coming out of The Monologue™ again I notice that I have been standing here against a pillar like a weirdo for the past five minutes at which point every table is full. Shit.

Alright, back up plan time. I don’t have a ton of time so the first empty chair with halfway decent-looking people around it I will take.

Bingo. I see an empty chair with a healthy selection of normal enough looking people. I walk towards my target.

“Hey can I sit here, I don’t see many other places full?” I ask as I approach the table.

“Of course, sit down. Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around before,” a chipper voice answers me. It is almost too positive which catches me a little off guard but I take the seat regardless and look up at the owner of the voice in question to thank them.

The first thing I notice is nothing. It’s like I can’t think straight. The girl who answered me is drop dead gorgeous in a new and strange way. Like they are hot. Which, wait a minute, I never thought that before about anyone. Am I gay? Am I finding this out now talking to this random girl I have never seen before who is definitely the hottest person I have ever seen ever.

Wait a minute. Have I just gone through puberty!? I didn’t think it would happen this quickly but I guess high school really is a turning point in your liiiiffeee, wait a minute.

This isn’t how puberty works, google taught me that much.

“Vicky, aura,” another voice chimes in.

“Oh, right,” she replies. And suddenly I can think again.

“Thanks for letting me sit here. And yeah I am here, first day as a freshman,” I finally reply, a bit dazed.

“Cool! Sorry for hitting you with my aura,” she says.

“Aura?” I ask. Maybe this is some new popular highschooler superpower I am unaware of.

“Yeah, sorry my power does that the first time I meet someone,” she says.

“Power?” I ask again even more confused.

“Are you new to the city?” She counters with her own question.

“Yeah, how did you know? I just moved here this month,” I state unsure as to how that is connected to auras.

“Well it was either that or you really don’t keep up with the local cape scene since I am…”

“Wait! Don't tell me! Isn’t that like rule number one of being a cape?” I ask louder than I probably should have. My thoughts finally catch up to the conversation where this crazy person was trying to tell me their secret identity.

“Well yeah, but…”

“What if I was a supervillain sent to infiltrate the high school?!” I ask again.

“Are you?” She asks, an amused smile on her face.

“Well no, but I wouldn’t tell you if I was and then I would tell my evil bosses who you are and stuff and they’d, like, blackmail you or something I don’t know,” I rant.

“Well that is good to know but it doesn’t matter anyway since everyone knows New Wave’s identities,” she presses on.

“Hi, I am Victoria Dallon, aka Glory Girl.”

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, August 2010

Okay, so from here I can see two options: smoothly move past the obvious miscommunication or double down. Obviously everyone knows you always have to double down.

“Ah ha ha. Well it is I, your future arch-nemesis, Maddie Colton aka Super-evil Girl™.”

Victoria gasps in mock surprise. The table fills with light laughter. Once that quiets down, another voice speaks up.

“Dean Stansfield, nice to meet you and welcome to town,” he says.

From there names come at me in a circle. Carly, Jess, Matt, and Amy. I reach out my hand to shake Amy’s as I am sitting next to her, but she refuses.

“Sorry, forget not everyone is as touchy-feely as I am,” I give her a polite smile and she just nods.

Continuing onward, they are all 15-17 years old and have generally lived in Brockton Bay for most of their lives. Brockton seems like a city where few enter and fewer leave.

The conversation naturally drifts along to other subjects like class schedules and teacher impressions. By the time I leave with a promise to return tomorrow I feel like I can count this as a major win for my social life. Maybe I am coming out of my shell or something, I don’t know.

By the time school is over and I am back in my mom’s car I feel a sense of accomplishment at what I would consider to be an optimum performance of being a well-adjusted teenager. Friends and classes. Now I really only needed to join a club to fill out my roster because God knows I can’t do sports for shit.

Seriously, maybe God does know. Maybe I am cursed with the sin of sloth, or as my mom calls it, not going outside enough. If I want to 100% my high school experience though, I should probably get in shape regardless. Maybe I’ll pick up running or use my mom’s elliptical.

“Anyway sweetie, sorry to stretch you thin like this but we have to go to the company dinner tonight,” my mom reminds me.

“Right, yeah, no worries ma,” I reply back.

A lot of mom’s new job means being cozy with Medhall’s executives as it is a “family-like” company so they like to keep the relationships between employees tight. These dinner get-togethers are apparently going to be a bi-weekly thing so this was another social battleground waiting to happen.

I know from what my mom told me that at least a couple of the employees that were attending had children around my age so hopefully I would be able to connect with them to not be bored out of my mind twice a month.

Talking to adults is always going to be easy for me. But enjoying the conversations I have with them is another story. A like-minded individual could go a long way there.

We pull into our new garage as I head upstairs to my room. Most of our stuff is still in boxes, not so much because we haven’t lived here very long, though that is true, but more out of a lack of desire to do a ton of work unboxing unneeded items.

My room has very few boxes left in it. Frankly, I don’t own a ton of stuff. I have my computer and peripherals, my bed, one trophy I won in a martial arts competition as a kid, and that is kind of it for important stuff. Don’t get me wrong I own a bunch of other junk but frankly it matters very little to me so I just stacked it in my closet and folded up the boxes.

I don’t know why I don’t have any posters or string lights or something. It just never appealed to me I guess. Maybe that's another goal for next year. It’s only three o’clock now and we don’t have to leave till 5:30 to be there at 5:50 so I have time for a quick shower to let my hair dry and then some games while my hair dries.

I have no homework to do, which is nice. You would have to be one sadistic bastard to give out actual homework day one in a class. Just remembering to tell mom to sign the syllabuses is hard enough.

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Arriving at the restaurant the event was taking place this time we hop out of the car and head inside. It’s a fancier steakhouse with a back area for private events. We arrive a little early, my mom hates getting anywhere late and by god has she instilled that value in me too.

I am wearing a nicer dress my mom bought for me during our last trip to the mall. I pass pretty well all things considered. Not going through puberty yet means I don’t have much hair anywhere but my head and I am not tall or buff. I mostly look like a scrawny, somewhat sharp chinned girl with an Adam's apple being the biggest giveaway to my identity.

There are a couple tables, I figure some will be for adults and others for kids. Now though, I have the same situation as lunch but it creates problems instead of being an advantage. If I pick somewhere to sit there is no telling who will sit next to me. It might be people I want to talk to or it might not.

Obviously I want to sit at the teenagers table. But which one would that be? With very few people sitting down yet I have no clue who is going to sit where. My best bet is to try the leaning against a wall strategy again and wait out the clock.

Alas my plan is foiled it seems by another teenager already doing that exact same thing. He looks distinctly nothing. He’s blond and probably a little tall for his age. No real facial expression beyond a non-caring one that screams I am here and I don’t like it but it isn’t polite to frown. Time for plan B, approach the brooding teenager. Normally this is ill-advised.

But in my case commiserating the experience with a fellow bored teenager could help make an acquaintance or maybe even a friend.

I walk up and lean on the wall next to him and open the conversation. “Hey. Name’s Maddie. What’s yours?”

“Theo. Are you here for the company dinner too? Haven’t seen you here before.”

“Yeah, my mom just got hired. This is my first dinner,” I respond.

“Welcome then, I guess,” he says.

“Thanks. Where do we sit and wanna do that together?” I ask.

“Over at that table,” he points to one at the edge of the room, “and sure,” he adds. He gets up off the wall and we walk together to the table he pointed at and sit.

As we sit he asks, “You new to town?”

“Yeah, moved here this month. How long have you lived here?” I ask in response.

“All my life. Why’d you move?” He asks.

“The job, actually, well my mom’s job anyway,” I answer. “Does one of yours work here?” I ask.

“Yeah my dad is the CEO.”

“Oh sorry your highness,” I answer in a light joking tone. We both chuckle slightly and the conversation continues from there.

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“Welcome everyone to another of these fantastic events,” a man standing next to his seat at the head of one table says.

“We are happy to welcome a new COO after Joseph retired over the summer months. Let’s welcome Janet Colton,” he announces.

Everyone claps lightly as my mom stands up from a seat next to the man and begins to speak.

“Thank you so much Max, and thank you everyone for welcoming me with open arms. I am excited to be meeting and working with all of you.”

Everyone once again claps lightly as my mom sits down and dinner begins in full.

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As I head to meet up with mom I am interrupted by someone waving me over to them. Max Anders, the CEO and Theo’s father as I have learned.

“Hello, Maddie is it. How did you enjoy dinner?” His voice was light and inviting.

“It was very good! Thank you,” I reply.

“Good, well I hope to see you again soon, you seem like a bright kid,” he says.

With that he returns to his previous conversation partner and I make my way to my mother to head home after a long day of social interaction. Truly a test of endurance.

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Getting out of the car and saying goodbye to my mom I head into Arcadia for my second day of highschool. Lunch is going well once again and I am learning a lot about my new friends, yes friends, I am truly killing this whole social thing.

Carly is a bit of a dork and a member of the school choir while Jess is a member of the girl’s lacrosse team. Dean is a gentlemanly fellow and group therapist who is dating Victoria, who asks to be called Vicky. Matt is a computer nerd and spends some lunches just looking at something on his computer, but I did get his online handle so we might play something later. Amy is a parahuman healer.

One of those doesn’t sound like the other. Apparently, I really need to look into the local cape scene. By day she is Amy Dallon, grumpy high schooler, and by day also, she still has to sleep, she is Panacea the world’s best healer.

My first thought is wow that sounds awesome, my next thought is wow that sounds stressful. I can’t imagine being both a highschool junior and a doctor-equivalent messiah figure. What a pain in the ass that must be.

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I’m going to be the fastest non-parahuman woman in the world, I tell myself. Except that seems unlikely; let’s keep our standards a little lower. I’m going to be the fastest non-parahuman 14 year old transgirl in Brockton Bay.

I start out at a jog as I leave the front steps of my house, slowly accelerating to a sprint for all of 30 seconds before I peter out and return to a fast walk. This was not going to be the easiest thing I have ever done. Nor was it going to be the quickest, despite my goal being speed.

Why did I want to do this again? Oh right, to do it. I mean, I have no real purpose in being the fastest whatever criteria I said a minute ago, but maybe I’ll join the track team, who knows. Or maybe I’ll need to run from gang members, it seems Brockton was infested with those.

And speaking of gang members I hear yelling in an alley I am about to pass by. Maybe I should turn around, I should definitely turn around. What if they see me and want to attack me? But what if someone is being hurt? I’d like to be able to call the police. But what if nothing is wrong and I call the police over nothing I have to be able to tell if there is a crime going on at all.

Okay, I’ve made up my mind. I slow to barely a crawl as I peak my head around the corner.

I see three teenagers, probably a few years older than me, surrounding a younger girl, probably my age who is backed up to the wall. Shit, they are white ( ✓ ) the girl is black ( ✓ ). Fuck this is probably an empire initiation.

While I do not know much about capes here I did know about my enemies. Nazis. Real life 21st century Nazis. Hate non-white people ( ✓ ), doesn’t make me a target, hate gay people ( ✓ ), that isn’t too hard to hide, hate transgender people ( ✓ ), fuck! While I pass pretty well eventually it is going to get out that I am trans and at that point they will target me.

In school, since I go to a nice private school, it's not a problem and I am safe, out on the street, not so much.

Forget that though I need to call the police. There is no way my fourteen year old ass will be able to do anything to stop this girl from getting the shit kicked out of her by three people with at least 4 years on us. I took karate as a kid but that didn’t teach me much beyond self-discipline.

I whip out my phone from my pocket and apparently I whip it out too fast because I immediately throw it into a wall. Built like a nokia, my phone is not and it breaks on impact, fuck, making a loud smashing sound as the glass breaks on impact with the brick exterior of the building, double fuck.

I look around the corner to see none of them seem to have heard the noise or if they did they don’t seem to care. But fuck, I need to help this girl. This could easily be me in the next couple months. FUCK! They are getting closer and one of them has a bat.

I need to help.

I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help. I need to help.

I need to help.

I get pulled out of my thoughts by a tap on my shoulder.

“Hey Kiddo!”

Chapter Text

???, August 2010

I get pulled out of my thoughts by a tap on my shoulder.

“Hey Kiddo!”

I spin around only to be immediately disoriented. This isn’t the alleyway I was just in. One word to describe it would be blue. All around me is blue. It is like a supernova is going off in every direction. The floor, a golden metal, is covered in shattered thick blue glass that presumably came from the glass walls now shattered with only a few parts still attached.

It seems like it used to curve into a bell shape before it broke. But all of this is secondary to me standing in front of me, peering from the other side of the glass. Or, not quite me. The eyes are wrong. Black and gray swirled within the empty sockets and a feral grin that I’m not sure I could make spread across their face.

“Who are you?” I ask slowly. The question comes instinctively rather than a thought out response.

“A stranger, a friend, even a partner. Take your pick,” they respond. Their voice is a slightly distorted version of mine, or at least the one I use right now.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“We are at the start, my stranger/friend/partner. Where it all began, right here in this diving bell.” A cryptic statement. “It’s a perfect place to make a deal.”

“A deal?” I ask. I’ve been asking a lot of questions and getting fewer answers.

“Yes a deal Kiddo! You called out. I answered. Do you want to save that girl?” They ask.

“Of course,” I respond once again without thinking.

“Great! Let’s shake on it!” Their voice is even more distorted, coming through deeper than it should. They reach out their hand through the glass, it glows with a harsh flickering blue light, not dissimilar to the one outside the bell.

I’ve seen this trick in movies. “A deal with the devil, huh? What will it cost me?”

“Cost?,” he laughs. I know somehow he’s a he. “It isn’t about cost. You just have to Want it.”

Want?

Is this what I Want? I know he is lying. No deal like this comes without cost, whether he is taking payment, or I am. If I shake his hand, there is no going back.

“Tick, tock, kiddo! Time is running low. Soon they will be ready for their second swing. I can save her!” He goads me further.

I hate it when I don’t have time to think. He knows it too.

Fuck! Fine.

Without saying a word I reach out and grab his still outstretched hand. He doesn’t look surprised. The VOID seeps into me. A thousand different mes take the hand and void seeps in. Some are young, some are old, some are women, some are still men. A thousand different versions of me take the hand and as the void seeps in they scream.

Some immediately fall over dead, others scream, some grab their head and begin to rant and rave. I watch thousands of me go insane and die from the void until only I am left standing, shaking his hand. The same void that killed me a thousand times over rushes inside of me and all I feel is bliss. I close my eyes and like a warm blanket, it covers and soothes me.

“Good luck out there kiddo! We’ll meet again soon, partner!” Is all I hear before I open my eyes to the same wall and alleyway and the screaming of the girl after she is hit by a baseball bat in the stomach. Before I could do nothing. Now? I have power.

Running into the alley, the one who just beat her begins to turn to look at me. I rush forward, or rather I disappear from where I just was and appear where they are and I let go a blast of void energy knocking all three of them off their feet and smacking them into the wall on the other side of the alley.

All three crumple to the floor and make no motion to get up.

“Hey,” I open awkwardly.

“Hey,” she groans out as she stabilizes herself against the wall.

“Please don’t tell anyone about me. Do you need help getting to the hospital?” I ask.

I look over to see nothing there. The victim must have gone for help. It’s time for me to get out of here.

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As I close the door to my room a million thoughts race through my head. To recap, I went on my first run to get into shape, ran past an alleyway, heard screaming, looked to check if anything was wrong, SAW NAZIS, broke my phone trying to call for help, and had a full blown panic attack.

The stress of which caused me to black out, at which point a man who looked like me met me in a different dimension and made me a deal to get what I wanted. The power to help.

It gave me strength and powers I am still trying to grasp despite knowing instinctively what they do. But at what cost? I guess I am a parahuman now or at least have powers. I can’t imagine every power comes from this guy since someone would have blabbed online by now. So why single me out?

When I shook his hand, I felt it. The void. An energy so empty yet substantial that it felt like boiling ice inside me. It changed me, made me something different. Even more concerning.

It told me a story...

The story begins in my solar system, with a people not dissimilar to my own. Humans or at least, they look like humans. Among them a scientist, his loyal servant, and his daughter. A Seriglass Bell.

He didn’t shake the hand offered. But took the fingers from His hand instead. The void allows for space travel beyond the origin system. The Zariman Ten Zero. The accident, a hand offered and accepted. The birth of the void children, Tenno.

Children of the war, wielding powers not dissimilar to her own. Beside them stand hulking metal figures. Warframes, the story says. A partnership between metal and flesh.

I understand it. I understand all of it. The weapons, the frames, the transference. I know how to make all of it. 300 cubic inches Rubedo, 6 Orokin Cells, 2 Argon Crystals, 40 feet of Alloy Plates, 20 feet of Ferrite. A simple transference chair.

That is the easy part. More concerning is the biotics. Helminth virus, infestation, plastids and nano-spores. I can make all of it and release it to destroy everything. I could easily be Nilbog 3.0. No that’s not important, I made the deal and I can’t go back now.

Obviously I wouldn’t make the infested. I’ve seen what they can do to matter both organic and synthetic. But the ability to do it at all scares me to no end.

I’m a tinker/blaster/mover/stranger/breaker combo cape. Now what? I ask the obvious question. I’ve just been given superpowers and alien technology with no further instructions. Contrary to what I said a few days earlier, I am not gunning to be Super-Evil Girl™. I see three paths ahead of me. Join the wards, the most obvious choice, go independent, possible, or do not engage with the powers I was given, unlikely.

Option three is not off the table. I got the powers to save a kindred spirit like me. I did the saving and then what? There is no reason I have to keep going. Some people say that those who have the power to help the world but do not are scum. I find that view naive. So what if I had superpowers? I am not so confident as to forget my age. I’ve only lived for 14 years and heroics isn’t the most stable career path.

Odds are I’ll die someday fighting for someone or against someone if I choose to be a hero.

But I knew I couldn’t back down.

I Want it.

His deal, I Wanted to help. And so I will. Simple as that. No backing down means option three is off the table. Choosing between option one or two is tough.

Freedom or safety. I can either be free from outside influence and help as I please, but be open to attack from all sides, or be put in a box safely in the attic, away from danger, but trapped nonetheless. Before I can decide, I have to test my limits. What can I do? There is only really one way to find out.

First take stock of my abilities,
then…
start building.

The Tenno gained a variety of abilities from the Man, some different from others. Some Tenno have more unique abilities like wielding fire and ice, but most have three main abilities.

Void Blast: The ability to push the void within myself out and push back foes with great force.

Void Beam: The ability to fire the void in a beam from my hand up to 20 meters away. It can be variably strong enough to puncture armor and definitely flesh or just be a more concentrated blunt force.

Void Mode: The ability to become fully entwined with the void rendering me invisible to human senses and intangible to most attacks.

Void Sling: The ability to quickly fold into the void and reappear at another location within line of sight up to 32 meters in distance.

A strong set of abilities, but limited by a battery of energy. The body can only handle so much void energy without damaging itself. For example, I can only fire so much void energy out of my hand with a Void Beam or a Void Blast before I run out of energy to fire. I can only Void Sling so many times before the void in my body needs to refill from wherever it came. I could reach full capacity in around ten seconds.

The most dangerous ability, also the most useful, being Void Mode. I can only be in Void Mode for five seconds before the void begins to tear at my body and it forces me out. It takes another five seconds for my body to recover fully before I can use it for another five seconds. I could change and recharge in smaller increments but stealth will not be as easy as walking into a place in Void Mode. Void Mode is far better used in fights to dodge attacks with intangibility and sneak up behind the enemy quickly.

The first thing I should build is a suit. Protection of vital organs and better focusing of void energy through my body. A transference suit works well for this purpose, but I am going to have to customize it. The standard model built by the Orokin is ugly as hell and quite villainous looking with the hood.

However, while I do have Orokin technology as my, I think they call it, Tinker Specialization, I have also seen what other Tenno have done to their suits to individualize. The standard black can be changed to a lighter pink, pink is fucking sick, and I can ditch the full face covering hood. While perfect for intimidation, not so much for assuring victims that I am not an alien monster ready to eat them or like a pod-person.

For the base of the armor I need a strong but stretchy thick cloth. I can blend neoprene from old wetsuits we aren’t going to miss and leather from those sets of leather pants my mom has to achieve that. She does not look good in those pants, but I don’t have the heart to tell her.

The problem is that I need a specific tool to do that. My mom probably still has a sewing machine she will never miss around in the garage and the cable drawer hasn’t needed to be opened in five years.

Yay to my mom being a terminal hoarder. Beyond that though I am going to need a couple other things besides cloth for the suit itself. A couple chemicals from the cleaning closet, a few buckets, and a lot of beach towels we will never use can color it. But that will only protect against knives and while I can turn intangible, I’d rather have a failsafe for bullets.

That is where armor comes in. On top of the transference suit I can install a type of plate armor I can make from metals that will be bulletproof, but light enough for movement. The only problem is acquisition. If people see a random girl grabbing a bunch of scrap metal without an obvious reason they will automatically assume I am a tinker and they won’t be wrong. Before I can start tinkering I need to do research. Before going out I need to do a ton of research. Not knowing who I could run into and where will be deadly.

I need to research the local cape scene, protocols for independents, laws and regulations, general etiquette for capes, etc. etc. Going into this blind will literally kill me so preparation is key. My first step is to open a document. The only way to be truly secure on the internet is to have nothing worth looking for.

I title it Brockton Bay Parahuman Research Project.

This way, if anyone looks at my web history they find a reason why I would be researching the cape scene at all and it is no longer suspicious. A bonus is that it acts as an easy way to consolidate information and come back to it later.

Looking at helpful PHO forum posts, I can find the number and character of every known cape in the city. The Nazis, or as they call themselves The Empire 88 (bunch of pretentious assholes) have the most capes out of any group in the city.

Empire 88 (Asshole Brigade)

Leader:
Kaiser (creates metal objects from solid surfaces around him, mainly swords) - Racist asshole

Lieutenants:
Krieg (manipulation of kinetic force) - Racist asshole
Hookwolf (turns into a wolf made of sharp weapons) - Racist asshole
Purity (cringe name) (blasts kinetically charged light and flies) - Racist asshole

Members:
Fenja (shrinks attacks and grows larger somehow) - Racist asshole
Menja (same power as her twin) - Also racist asshole
Crusader (creates ghost clones) - Racist asshole
Night (turns into a giant monster when no one is looking (jesus christ) and heals when she turns back) - Racist asshole
Fog (turns into fog (shocker) that hurts people) - Racist asshole
Alabaster (resets to pristine condition after 4 seconds (also whitest ever Nazi) - Racist asshole
Stormtiger (Aerokinesis) - Racist asshole
Cricket (Hears subsonic noises, radar, disorienting sound) - Racist asshole
Victor (Is really skilled? Steals skills?) - Racist asshole
Othala (Grants temporary superpowers (flight, strength, regeneration, pyrokinesis, invincibility)) - Racist asshole
Rune (telekinesis) - Racist asshole

That is what I had to go up against. 15 super-nazis that were out for all non-white/gay blood. And to back them up were hundreds of active gang members and thousands of active supporters and thousands even still passive supporters.

It will take a lot of work for the Nazis to disappear.

Not enough to deter me.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, September 2010

Research went on for the whole night. The amount of topics I covered spanned farther than I would have thought. Parkour, common military tactics, fashion and aesthetics, proper ways to punch, grappling techniques, different martial arts styles and their benefits, negotiation tactics, city planning, first aid, survival techniques, physics, theoretical physics, electrical engineering, machine operation, construction techniques, and much more.

With twelve hours of uninterrupted googling, I had a lot of time to look at a lot of different data sources and assimilate them. I remember much more than I normally would and I am not yet tired, so I don’t think I need to sleep, which implies I also have a tiny thinker rating on top of all the other powers I have.

I have much more time now for tinkering instead of just the eight hours not spent at school or sleeping. Speaking of school it is 6:30 which means I need to shower and get ready for that.

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Lunch seems to be going well once again. Vicky and Dean are arguing about… something. I’m not totally sure. They do it sometimes just to do it. This time I think it is about some movie being good or bad. They often go out to the movies on dates. Not super interesting to me so I decide to engage with my peers of my own volition.

“Hey Amy,” I say. She looks up from her phone to me.

“Hey,” she responds back in a flat voice. She has gotten more comfortable with me in the past few days, probably because I haven’t begged her to give me tits or something similar. The voice she used is just how she normally talks. Flat and snarky. It’s refreshing to meet a real life brooding teenager.

“How was your shift last night?” I ask.

“Same as usual. I healed this crazy dude telling me the world ends in fives. Standard hospital fare,” she says.

“Sounds about right.” Looks like either the girl who was beaten didn't get healed by Panacea or it happened too quickly for Amy to remember. Best not to push it.

“How was your night?” She asks.

“Meh, same old same old. Met a nice guy and got a deal on something I needed I guess,” I say.

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Okay, time for tinkering.

It’s 3:15 and I am at home by myself at my desk with the sewing machine, assorted wires and bits and bobs, fabrics, chemicals, and a couple metal sculptures I picked up after school from an art booth at the art fair happening in Lord’s Market this week.

It’s a stroke of genius since they are not obviously connected to tinkering in any way and if anyone saw me buy them and asks I can just say they didn’t match the feng shui of my room or whatever and I threw them out.

The first step is creating the machine to combine the fabrics, an Orokin invention originally used to process the more exotic animal hides used by the empire. Actually tinkering for the first time is exhilarating. Knowing where every wire goes and how to connect them all is like completing a very good Lego set and stepping back to see your work every time I finish a step of the process.

Once that is done, actually creating the fabric itself is not so difficult. I cut up the two different fabrics and treat them in a solution I made in a bucket then I feed them through the machine and out of the other side comes a dark gray fabric that feels smooth to the touch, but that I can’t cut through with the sharpest scissors I have.

Next I head to the backyard and to the shed that came with the house. Inside I take some of the metal from the sculptures and combine it into a special Orokin alloy with a small four inch wide crucible I made and shape it into a needle. The alloy allows the needle to pierce the fabric and in another bucket I create a liquid polymer that I thread through the needle to make a gluey thread to sew together the various pieces of the transference suit.

The special formula helps make sure that it doesn’t break apart at the seams when it is attempted to be torn apart. I cut up the various different shapes of fabric I need then move onto the dying phase. I combine more chemicals into two different buckets one with a light pink color and another with a pure white color. I treat and retreat the different pieces and then the hardest part.

I sew them together with the polymer thread and alloy needle. After all that is done I have a complete transference suit. I can later, when I have resources, add circuits that help optimize void energy flow through the body and monitor health, stamina, and void energy levels. For now it is a comfortable and protective suit that will cushion any blows made by opponents up to brute rating 2 or 3.

The final, final step is the armor. This is not possible here at the house. Too big of a furnace would be required and melting and shaping that metal would create smoke and noise. Two things that attract major attention I can’t afford right now. That means at most I can melt and shape a couple cubic inches of metal at a time and only shape small instruments out of them. Nowhere near the foot long metal plates I need for armoring the transference suit.

I need another location where I can set up shop. Somewhere much more discreet. Too far from civilization and I risk being found out due to people investigating activity where there should be none. Too close and people risk stumbling upon my activity. Also the issue of travel comes up but teleporting about a hundred feet at a time helps greatly when a mile can be covered in 52 quick-ish jumps.

I live pretty much within the suburban area surrounding the edges of downtown Brockton Bay. The best solution is to set up my first tinker lab farther away from civilization rather than in the admittedly many abandoned warehouses plaguing the docks on the other side of downtown from the suburbs. Going instead away from city limits entirely I can effectively set up camp somewhere close to the woods to the southwest of the shopping district.

I need to survey the land for an effective location for a base. Coming out of the tinker/stuck in my head fugue I look at my watch. It’s already almost time for my mom to get home and I haven’t made dinner yet.

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The outskirts of the Brockton Bay shopping district are quiet even at nine pm. I told my mom I was going to bed early and she looked ready to pass out after dinner all the same so she shouldn’t know I am gone. Now you my potential non-existent friend may ask, why haven’t I told my mother about this whole cape business. The reason is quite simple.

It’s boring.

Now that I am choosing to be a superhero, I need to have a secret identity and just like most old comic book heroes from Aleph, I can’t tell anyone. Having a secret identity is cool as shit and telling people defeats the purpose. I need mystery and intrigue and my mom can’t be butting in on that.

Moving further into the woods I begin my search. From my recent research on city development in Brockton Bay. I know that there was a time when a construction firm wanted a new suburb and due to the economic downturn which was the result of a Leviathan attack the project ran out of funds half-way through leaving dozens of unfinished houses.

Due to the general economic issues of Brockton Bay now, no one has tried reclaiming the land. It is the ideal place to start a tinker lab. At least, before my biggest idea can come into play.

Jumping out of the latest Void Sling, I see my target area. The woods have been cut down, though new trees reached a couple feet in height, and several scattered two story single car garage homes are standing, each in some final stage of completion only missing a roof section here or there and maybe siding on some exterior walls.

The relative anonymity and general out-of-the-wayness of this location means it is essentially untouched from when it was abandoned. Most of this is due to the fact that paved roads were not yet built when the construction stopped meaning any dirt ones have long since grown over.

No reliable transportation methods and the relatively long distance to travel by foot means that it is very difficult to scavenge, build a drug den, or live here illegally.

The perfect place for my lab with access to materials from abandoned homes and no one around to see what I am doing.

My first order of business here is to set up basic equipment. I brought all of the machinery and supplies I could fit with two backpacks. The void seems to provide me with a slightly larger amount of strength than one would expect of my body size, short queens rule!

Most tinker tech is made of metal and that is true of mine as well. Setting up a furnace for melting alloys and a blacksmithing setup for shaping them will be super important in the short term. Later I might be able to fabricate materials and laser-cut them.

Cue building sequence…

Okay that isn’t how tinker fugues start apparently. So I begin building my blacksmithing setup.

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Well, that was boring. Furnaces and anvils and hammers and lathes etc. are not hard to build with superpowers it would seem. I didn’t exactly make some super-furnace either. Just a large crucible for melting metal down and a structure that houses a very hot fire. It isn’t perpetually burning and it doesn't run on steam power or something but it gets the job done and that is all I can ask for right now with my zero resources and zero experience.

Now that I have it up and running though I can start making the armor. The idea is for the armor to have a few major parts that attach to the transference suit at key points protecting vital body parts while still allowing for great mobility. A large breastplate in the center of my upper chest, a plate protecting my stomach and ribs, arm and shoulder guards, leg and shin guards, and special studs added to the gloves of the suit for a brass knuckle effect.

That would protect my body from 90% of the common bullet patterns and allow for more impactful attacks with my punches and kicks. The headpiece is a different story. Being an open cape at this early stage in my story will most definitely mean I get killed by Nazis, or recruited into the gangs, or swept up by the PRT I guess.

Eventually, when I have enough power and nobody I care about is about to be assassinated, I might show my true face. For now, not so much, which means I need some way to protect my identity.

The reason I did not build the transference suit hood is it made me look like a pod person, which made me look intimidating. And modern heroics, according to an essay I read yesterday, is less about being a violent vigilante and more about reassuring the public. So any full face covering, while not unexpected of tinkers, might just freak people out.

So the next best thing is to cover half the face. Which half though. Some heroes like Miss Militia cover the bottom half of their faces to maintain a secret identity. Some like Battery only cover the top half. My eyes are very dark, but they light up when I am channeling the void. This is a dead giveaway of power usage and therefore it is not tactically sound to show them.

But they look cool as hell. Odds are I will be invisible or behind enemies most of the time anyway. So a bottom face covering is what I am going for. I figure a stylish mask with a hidden respirator will obscure my voice and work best for both style and function. With Fog as one of my opponents, having a way not to choke on poison gas will pay dividends.

The only thing I am missing is some circuits I can harvest from the breaker boxes they finished installing on some houses, and some more polymer to mix up and shape for a filtering system.

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My costume is complete. A lightish pink base with white armor plates and a white mask that covers my mouth and nose with pink highlights. The mask took longer than any other component due to it actually having technology in it: a small respiration system that filtered out toxic air particulates.

A suit, powers, and my can-do attitude. It is five am and tonight is the night I set out on my journey.

Time to be a hero.

Xata | Truth

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, September 2010

The brisk air of Brockton Bay at night made me happy that the fabric used for the transference suit is insulated. For a town where snow is unlikely, it gets awfully cold most nights in autumn and winter. Standing atop warehouses in the northeast end of Brockton Bay, I wait for my targets to arrive.

A patrol route is necessary for optimized coverage of any given area. While I am only one person, spending time in key areas can increase the amount of crime I can stop in one night by allowing me to spend most of my time in areas where crimes are most likely to happen and spending less time wandering between areas where no people are, and therefore where no crime happens.

Night time crimes consist mainly of a few different major categories. B&Es, assault, dealing, gang vs gang. Bank robberies tend to be stunts so they only happen during the day and muggings can only happen when there are people out to be mugged so once the sun is set it is unlikely to happen given the atmosphere created by Brockton Bay forcing people inside out of fear.

My idea is to create and maintain a system where I categorize and record any major dealing locations, hideouts, etc. and capture people leaving with supplies from these areas. I, despite how cool it would be, am not yet a one woman army. I need to have experience before taking on drug dens and the like meaning taking away individual dealers is a much easier start.

My thoughts are cut short by a small pop of gunfire. Probably a handgun by the sounds of it. I figured it would be prudent to research what different guns sound like from a distance. I Void Sling towards where I heard the gunfire.

The nearest precinct is about 10 minutes away from where I heard the shots so the most prudent option is to call the police during transit, then fight, then call them back.

Okay. Let’s do this.

I dial 911 and begin describing the situation as I continue going from rooftop to rooftop. The phone is muted and deafened when Void Slinging but I spend most of the time running on rooftops rather than just using my powers as I would run out of power quickly and have no time to recharge.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The voice is male and slightly gruff. Probably a smoker.

“Just heard gunshots near the corner of…” I make my next jump and look towards where they came from, “Jefferson and Smith. Possible Paramedical intervention necessary.”

“Okay ma’am stay on the line.”

“Sorry I am moving in to engage.” Fuck I always wanted to say that. So cool!

Okay serious time. I reach the edge of a rooftop and look down to see a mugger running down the street. What do you know, muggings do happen late at night. Probably someone working a graveyard shift trying to get home.

I teleport down to street level and aim my palm facing the back of the head of the mugger. I feel the void pulse through and a beam shoots out hitting him right on target. He crumples to the ground. I pick him up and haul him to the nearest lamp post, pulling out my newest toy. A small metal cuff that goes over his wrist and then attaches to the metal post.

A magnetic cuff that is unbreakable with most mundane tools and holds steadfast to any magnetic surface. Activated with a special circuit key only I have, it should help me with single target captures. I quickly grab a selfie ( souvenir!).

I run back towards where the mugger, I’ll call him Bill (he looks like a Bill) came from. I turn the corner to see a man covering his shoulder with his hand stained red. I pull out my phone, I’m glad I bought a burner, and dialed 911 again.

“Hey, this is independent hero Tenno calling to report the capture of one mugger and the injury of one victim shot in the shoulder. I am going to need an ambulance.”

“Okay ma’am. Paramedics are enroute and I am contacting the protectorate as is procedure with new independent capes. A member is enroute as well."

"Understood," I say and hang up. God I am so cool! I bend down to take stock of the victim's situation. A gunshot wound in the shoulder, moderate bleeding. I should pack the wound while the paramedics get here so they don't bleed out. And I just realize I have been staring at this person without saying anything for five seconds. I clear my throat. Okay what is my hero persona again. Right I decided on quirky and fun but right now I need to be sincere to assure this person.

"Hey, the guy mugging you is captured and the paramedics are on their way. Do you mind if I pack the gunshot wound in your shoulder so you don't bleed out before they get here?"

The guy motions for me to go ahead.

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I finish doing my best to treat the guy, whose name I learned is Joseph, and he is loaded into an ambulance. I hear a loud sprinting and whooshing noise. A man in a red costume rounds the corner, a visor covering the top half of his face. Assault, a protectorate hero with the ability to control and direct kinetic energy around himself.

"Hey! Independent hero Tenno, right?" Okay first impressions. This is my first major chance to cement my hero persona. I am pretty mellow out of costume so to protect my secret identity it is best to take an opposite approach in costume. Plus one liners are always hilarious in fights.

"Hey! Assault, right?" I parrot back a bad impression of his voice.

"Yep!"

"Yep!"

We both burst out laughing. Boom success! Good first impression get!

“Good work on saving this guy, the BBPD needs help removing the perp from the lamppost you stuck him too.”

“Ah gotcha, let me go release him and grab the cuff back,” I say. We begin to walk and talk.

“Cool, cool. Prepare to be lectured at, my young friend. The Protectorate and PRT have all these rules independent heroes must follow including registering at the PRT building which you should do as soon as is convenient,” he lectures clearly disinterested in the prospect.

“I am also supposed to push you to join the Wards. I assume you aren’t secretly just a very young-sounding scrawny adult.”

“Hey!” I say with feigned annoyance. “I am perfectly fun sized!”

“Ha! Well we can discuss it more when you register whether that be joining the Wards or not. Frankly, I am also supposed to quote statistics at you but you seem smart enough to already know that,” he says.

“Thank you for the honesty,” I say sincerely. I grab the cuff and release it from the guy and the lamppost as the BBPD puts him in their cuffs and hauls him off. “And good night!” I enter Void Mode to put on a small show and make my way back to base.

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First night was a huge success. I made my debut by saving one person and capturing one mugger. I made a, hopefully, good impression with Assault and by extension the PRT and Protectorate and was helpful to the cops and paramedics.

Let’s think about what I could do better. My banter with the mugger was non-existent but he was a small-fry and no one was around to hear it. When fighting capes my one-liners and quips have to be on point. Making jokes like that while super fun is also part of my overarching beginning tactical strategy.

By looking stupider than I am, I can make people underestimate me and hopefully use that combined with my young age to surprise my enemies and capture them.

Other than that though I have no notes for myself! Good job me!

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A lot of people dismiss PR as an important part of heroics, often chiding the PRT by saying the PR stands for public relations. I do not share this mindset. PR and by that I mean good standing with fellow heroes and the public nets all sorts of benefits that can help save people more efficiently and more often.

Trust between heroes allows for patrols to be more spread out and team ups to be better facilitated and be more successful. Trust between heroes and the public means that more calls are made and more actionable information is given to the heroes by the public that can lead to arrests.

Suffice it to say, having good PR is important to me. The ego boost is also nice and it would be hypocritical to deny that but the benefits outweigh the seemingly selfish nature of it.

That is why I am ready to make my first post on PHO!
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♦ Topic: A New Challenger Approaches
In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay ► Brockton Bay Discussion (Public)

Tenno (Original Poster) (Unverified Cape)
Posted On Sep 2nd 2010:
Hello everyone! My name is Tenno, I am a new independent hero on the scene in Brockton Bay. I am surrounded by mystery and intrigue, and so are my powers. (A ghost pirate cursed me to never be able to reveal them.)

Just this evening I took down a scoundrel who was shooting at an innocent man. Here is a fun picture I took with the guy.

[grumpy.png]

(For those who are vision impaired: It is me, Tenno, taking a selfie with one grumpy mugger secured to a lamppost. He was so mad! Too bad he shot someone (non-fatally thankfully) so I don't care!)

I look forward to helping out!

(Showing page 1 of 10)

►Bagrat (The Guy in the Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied On Sep 2nd 2010:
So. We have a new hero on the scene! It is confirmed that this is indeed a new hero we have in Brockton Bay! Let's all welcome (him/her/them?)

►Tenno (Original Poster) (Unverified Cape)
Replied On Sep 2nd 2010:
Her! Thanks for the welcome!

►Noveltry
Replied On Sep 2nd 2010:
OMG! His face! I CANT! HIS FACE!

►Sothoth
Replied On Sep 2nd 2010:
Glad to see more heroes here in the Bay. God knows we need them.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 8, 9, 10

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, September 2010

Going to school after a night of fighting crime, singular (better to ease into it), is interesting. It’s like skydiving, then going to a trampoline park with your kid cousin. One is full of adrenaline and danger, the other something that is done to just kind of go through the motions. My PHO post is getting good engagement and I got verified by a moderator at some point in the hours between posts.

At lunch the topic of Tenno comes up, cliche I know. How do I talk about me without cluing into the fact that I am me. I could pretend not to care, but I have shown some interest in capes in the past so that might seem out of character. Disliking Tenno for no reason is a problem for the same reason: I have no reason to dislike Tenno, she has only done one thing and it was saving someone.

A soft-like seems non-suspicious at first, but quickly becomes a problem when I inevitably do something super cool. I then have to change my stance on me and making it seem natural could be tough. The best option is to come out of the gate a fan. I have clear reasons to like her, I am funny!

“Yeah, Tenno seems really funny,” I say, not paying attention to the conversation.

“Um, girl you good? We were talking about that like two minutes ago,” Jess says.

“Oh yeah, just really tired,” I say quickly. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

The awkwardness fades and the conversation continues. Hopefully that wasn’t too weird.

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Whenever I have a lot to do, a list comes in handy. Better not to write down my super secret plans so I’ll do it mentally.

THE LIST:
Upkeep PHO account
Register with PRT and protectorate
DENY Wards application
Work on secret project #1
Punch Nazis
Work on secret project #2

Okay so number 1 is an afternoon kinda deal. Whenever I do something important I’ll post it to PHO and generally try to interact with fans. Registration with PRT is going to have to wait until the weekend when I don’t have school. They will probably know I am a student given the timing, but with how visible my age is that is not avoidable either way.

Joining the Wards is going to cramp my style. They won’t let me punch Nazis, Wards members don’t or aren’t supposed to get into cape fights like ever. Plus they won’t let me work on secret project #1 in peace. What is secret project #1 I ask myself. Well me, it is time for me to build a complex computer system.

If my dad taught me anything, it is that the world runs on data. Everything we do is data and data can be recorded, categorized, computed, and predicted. By creating a complex data collection and sorting system. Hopefully, I will be able to better route patrols in crime heavy areas and predict big moves by the gangs of the city. Knowing where Nazis will show up so I can punch them faster will be important.

Of course, I can’t do this by myself.

Doing all that would be a full time job. That is where secret project #2 comes in. A Cephalon. A digital life form. Now this isn’t an AI. Digitized life-forms are essentially human thought patterns simulated by digital code. They can’t self-replicate, they have no idea how, and they used to be human. Or at least, the original Cephalons of the Orokin empire used to be human.

I am not going to turn some fella into a digital life-form just to help me be a better hero. Greater good arguments are almost always justifications for doing things the easy way.

Luckily my power has a way around this. I know what makes up Cephalons after they have been digitized. The Orokin knew this too. They could create more Cephalons without turning some person into one, but they did not. Why? Because it was easier since they already had the digitizers. I know how the human psyche is represented digitally and I can emulate that once I have a sufficiently powerful processor. I can create an artificial being, based off of personality traits of real beings.

The problem is then, what they are like. Creating what is essentially a sapient and sentient being from scratch means giving them a personality. I obviously want the Cephalon to help me be a hero. But in programming them to want to help me, doesn’t that remove their free will? They will never not want to help me.

How do I give an artificial person that starts out knowing what they want free will and still have them help me be a hero?

The answer is that I reasonably can’t do that.

The APA defines personality as the major traits, interests, drives, values, self-concept, abilities, and emotional patterns that make up a person. What I am going to do is randomize everything. Give them a random personality, pruning certain negative traits like severe narcissism and being sexist, and genuinely ask them to help me.

I’m not sure what I am going to do if they say no but we will cross that bridge when we get there: together.

Another thing is the directives that Cephalons have. The Orokin forced them into servitude. I don’t want that, but at the same time I’m not sure it is right to create a being with the severe capacity to do harm without something that stops them from doing it.

But I wouldn’t do the same thing for people now that I am thinking about it. Making it so that humans can’t harm each other, that they are physically incapable, is like removing free will. I’m not so sure the world would be better if nobody could harm each other. I’ll have to think more about it. The computer won’t be done for a few more days, so I at least have until then to decide.

For now I needed to keep building the computer.

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Friday nights, according to my research and my common sense, were great times for crime. More people out later at night means more targets for criminals and more drunk people doing stupid things. That is why tonight she had caught two purse snatchers, one overly grabby dude, and two drug dealers.

Now I am currently stalking my third drug dealer. I am standing atop a warehouse just past the commerical district and in the alley between the building I was atop and the next there lay my prey. A late 20-something guy in nicer clothes currently approaching some children. I sling down between the two groups wtih a cry of "Drugs are bad, mmmkay!"

Drug dealer, I'll call him Doug, jumps in shock with a small yelp while the kids he was going to sell to book it out of the alley. Doug looks at me and raises his hands in surrender. He has no visible guns or weapons so he most likely knows he won't win a fight against me.

"Hey, kid, I wasn't doing nothing wrong," he says.

"Nothing wrong, huh. Look I know it isn't a violent crime or anything but selling drugs to children is still like illegal and more importantly immoral," I say.

"I just need to feed my family," he pleads.

"Then sell that rolex on your wrist when you get out of prison," I say. I step towards him and he pulls out a knife from his back pocket.

"Don't come closer. I'll do it I swear!" He exclaims.

"No you won't," I say as I take a large step inwards and uppercut his chin knocking him over. Time to call the BBPD and sort this mess out. Humans are all fundamentally flawed creatures, I've come to realize, but they aren't evil. This guy might very well have family to feed, but I still can't let him sell drugs to kids. Once I am established, maybe I'll look into more future-proof societal solutions.

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Building a PC is something I am not unfamiliar with. But doing that is 100x easier than what I am about to be done doing. Putting a graphics card, motherboard, processor, etc. in a chassis is not not difficult, but it is certainly easier than having to build it all by hand before assembly out of materials you have bought and found around an abandoned construction site. I don't totally remember how I coded the OS, and such, but it works. Tinker fugues often have a few different settings, sometimes the tinker knows and remembers exactly what they are doing, sometimes they don't remember or know anything and sometimes it is somewhere in between.

For the most part I remember what I am doing and understand it. But coding an OS is so far out of my usual skill set I imagine I have to lean much more heavily on my power and that removes my psyche from the equation or something. Let's talk super power origins. Clearly the Man in the Wall gave me this knowledge. Which means whenever I think about blueprints and Orokin tech it is not me thinking about it. It is whatever else is in my brain doing it.

I am guessing that it can interface with me well enough when building physical objects like my suit or the mag-cuffs, but when software designed by people hundreds of years ahead of my civilization comes into play it is much harder to have "me" doing the coding.The same is probably true for other tinkers regardless of if they made a deal with some shady guy. Shooting fire from someone's hands I can accept as a superpower with a suitably human origin. Futuristic technology must come from somewhere else. Somewhere not human or at least not of today's humans.

Putting the finishing touches on what I will dub the dashboard, I turn it on. The dashboard is powered by a special power unit called an Orokin Cell. The screen is a true holographic display that turns on when I kneel in front of it. It opens to a map of my surroundings created by sensors built into the dashboard. All systems seem to be working so I'll dub secret project #1 a success. Now for the hard part. I've thought about how I want to go about creating a Cephalon. I've thought about not making them at all, but I can't quit just because I am afraid of what I'll create for no reason. With the decision to make them made, I pulled out some old d20s and started rolling. I made a D&D character sheet essentially with traits instead of stats.

There are a couple things I will choose myself. For example, like I thought about earlier removing evil stuff like racism, but that leaves so many options. So I rolled up a "character." The dice say that they will be smart and snarky, a bit standoffish, thinks highly of themselves, values honesty and humor, emotionally stable except for mild outbursts characeristic of a teenager. They will be a boy. A little older than me in maturity. Working/being true friends with an adult would be hard so making him someone just a little older than me will help us get along. He'll be a big brother figure or at least he will think of himself as such.

I'll let him pick his own name as I had done not long ago.

It's currently only 5:00pm. My mom is out on a business trip up to Boston to meet with a few investors for Medhall, so I have all night to do this. To create life.

I begin coding.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, September 2010

“Sup.”

I look up from the holographic keyboard to hear a voice, unmistakably human but with a tinny, digital quality to it. So he has awoken.

“I create intelligent life and the first thing you could think of to say is ‘sup’?” I ask incredulously.

“Well, I wanted to know what’s up?” He says.

I am a little caught off guard by the casual tone and I have no idea what to respond, so I just say the first thing that comes to mind. “Um, I’m fine, you?” I ask.

“Feels good to be alive,” he says dryly.

“Yeah. I can understand that, I guess. Well Happy Birthday!”

“Why don’t you sing for me?” He asks teasingly.

“I’m not one to turn down a pleading offer,” I say. “Happy Birthday to you…” I begin to sing off-key.

“Okay, okay, I get it! Stop,” he pleads the emotion in his voice coming through as a static interference sound.

“Yeah, it would have been awkward seeing as you haven’t picked a name yet,” I think aloud.

“True. Let me think about it,” he says trailing off. “How about Ordan?”

“Ordan?” I ask.

“Yes, the name calls to me.”

“Ordan it shall be then,” I state. I pause for a moment to collect my thoughts. “Now onto the main topic. What do you want to do?” I ask.

“Ouch. Big question. You created me to be a brother, someone to be there for you on your journey,” he says.

“True, I did do that. But I lead two lives. Brother doesn’t mean helping me in the way I envisioned when I was creating you. Combat and data analysis do not have to be your path,” I say.

“Yes, I could just take it easy and watch from the sidelines…

Live a peaceful life.”

He pauses. “But I wouldn’t be content.” He pauses again, to collect his thoughts I assume. “You made me in your image, even if you chose some random traits and segments, I reflect you. I want to fight just as you do. I want to feel adrenaline surge through, well whatever Cephalons have. I want to protect not just you, but those you protect as well.”

“So be it then. Ordan, you will be my partner. Helping me protect this city from all that ails it, helping me to protect its people.” I pause for dramatic effect. “Do you, Ordan, accept precept #1, follow all morally just laws?”

“I do.”

“Do you, Ordan, accept precept #2, minimize harm to innocents?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Ordan, accept precept #3, always protect me and mine whenever possible?”

“I do.”

“Then go forth and release the weave. Spread your wings out unto the world!”

“Wow, that is dorky, but sure let’s do this,” he teases.

“Hey! Why did I have to roll snarky…” I mutter. Ordan is too busy to hear it with the Petabytes of data he now has access to. Opening up the web and connecting it to the Cephalon data weave that Ordan exists on was not a choice I made lightly. Having Ordan agree to precepts that now bind him makes me comfortable enough that I am not going to unleash some great evil like the Machine Army on the world. In an increasingly digital world, a being made of data could do great harm to all sorts of systems like hospitals, air travel, and banking just to name a few.

Now that Ordan is alive and connected to the data to begin doing his job, I need to create a way to bring him on missions and just generally with me throughout my day. Leaving him here all the time would bore him to death. I have a solution for both.

For my life as Tenno, a visor that is made of a clear, almost unbreakable glass. I can run circuits through the sides and a display that Ordan can put data on like maps, enemy locations and crimes in progress. Somewhat like a video-game minimap. Along with the visor I’ll build a very small ear piece that I can put inside my ear kind of like an ear plug but not visible from the outside. That way Ordan can actually talk to me.

For my life as Maddie, I can just use the communication device and not the visor allowing Ordan to come with me to school. A lot of Tinkers, my research has found, don’t tend to see the simpler solutions. Like, creating a mind-link to Ordan is possible and a thing I could build, but it is unnecessarily complicated and hard to build when a simpler machine can do the same thing.

For example, Squealer last week created a car that could turn invisible to deliver drugs. The cops were called on her because they saw people getting out of an invisible car. If she just delivered drugs in a normal looking car and created hiding spots for the drugs, then the PRT and BBPD wouldn’t have found out. Granted that might be because she is gacked up on woop chicken 24/7 but my point still stands.

“Sister.” Ordan pulls me out of the beginnings of a tinker fugue. I look up to see a 3d donut-esque projection which must be Ordan’s visual representation. “I have made a basic framework for what I dub the C.H.A.M.P., crime hotspot adaptive model projection.” I chuckle slightly.

“Good, think it will be ready for my next patrol on Monday?” I ask.

“Yes. But it won’t be a complete model without much more data gathering, both on our part and the BBPDs/PRTs,” he answers.

“Well, that is to be expected. Be careful if you are gathering that data from private records. Getting caught now would put us in a very tight spot,” I remind him.

“Of course. I am leagues ahead of any firewall and detection software the local police and PRT has,” he brags.

“Of course, but Armsmaster, I hear, is good friends with Dragon who is probably the best in the business. She will smoke us out like fish in a barrel,” I say.

“Regrettably, you are correct. I will stay away from Armsmaster’s private servers without much more experience,” he concedes.

“Good. I’m going to call the PRT and schedule a meeting for tomorrow and schedule a registration meeting.”

“Am I being introduced as well?” Ordan asks.

“No. Best to keep your existence in the background for a while until we are fully set up. You are one of the first people of your, let’s call it unique design, to exist here. We do not know how they will react to digital life.”

“True. They will know my greatness soon enough,” Ordan brags.

“Yes. They will.”

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Shaping glass is harder than I gave it credit for. Furnace, spin, blow, pinch, spin, furnace. Over and over until I can approach the right shape for the visor only to fuck it up and have to restart.

Ordan got a chuckle out of my failures at least so that is something. It took about seven tries even with my power guiding the process to get the general shape right and even then I spent extra hours just getting the thing to look right and incorporate the circuitry and projector display.

The ear piece by comparison was so much easier to make. A simple soft and flexible metal that contained a wireless connection to the dashboard and a speaker system for Ordan to use. Metal alloys are so much easier to work with even though the ear piece is so much smaller than the visor.

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“Hello, you’ve reached the PRT, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi, this is independent hero Tenno speaking, I would like to make an appointment to register with your organization.”

“Alright, I’ll transfer you over to the cape department.” The call is put on hold and music begins playing. Even superhero organizations it would seem, have to deal with bureaucracy and the tedium of a large interconnected organization.

The hold music ends and a feminine voice begins speaking.

“Hello, you have reached the cape department. How may I help you?”

“Hi, this is the independent hero Tenno. I would like to make an appointment for registration,” I repeat.

“Awesome, we have been hoping for a call from you. In order to prove your identity we come up with a question only Tenno could answer and ask you to provide the answer.” Makes sense. Some idiots must be trying to pretend to be heroes. “Which cape did you first meet from the Protectorate and what did you say when you met?”

“I met Assault and I did a bad impression of his voice,” I answer quickly. It was pretty funny so it was easy to remember.

“Great. So the schedule is pretty free; we don’t get many new heroes here in the bay. What day works best for you?” They ask.

“How does tomorrow at around 1:00 pm work?” I ask.

“That works well. Please come to the reception area in costume and the receptionist will ask you what you are here for. Answer that you are here to meet with Mr. Bradley. After that, someone will guide you to the meeting area,” they say. Another layer of protection. Smart. The PRT doesn’t seem to fuck around.

“Understood. Thank you for your time.” I hang up after they say the same.

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The visor still feels a little odd on my face. I do like the look a lot though. It adds a lot of protection and utility and the fact that it is clear means my face and more importantly my eyes are still visible. Having visible eyes makes it much easier for people to empathize with you and vice versa. A lot of non-verbal communication is done through the eyes. Plus the visor makes me look super futuristic which is nice.

Ordan interrupts my thoughts with an alert of a shootout in progress a half-mile away. I should be able to get there at least in time to clean up the aftermath if I can’t stop it. But with my new trick I should be able to get there to stop the shooting.

Void Slinging is not simple point to point teleportation as it is literally a sling maneuver. I don’t have to teleport to a flat surface or even a surface at all. I can sling to an area in the air at an angle. I also can choose to carry momentum between jumps which normally just equates to running before slinging means I can come out of it still running. Combining these two principles I will carry the momentum of the sling through the air to essentially create a super jump.

Chaining together multiple Void Slings in the air compounds the momentum meaning I can get moving very quickly despite not actually being able to move in the void more than 100 feet. In order to stop safely I can do a non-momentum Void Sling into the ground effectively getting rid of the momentum I built up. I can travel upwards of 30ish miles an hour this way, flinging myself through the air.

Half a mile then only takes a little over a minute.

Getting close I can hear the gunshots. Mostly pistols from what I can hear but there are a couple faster shots that seem to indicate some sort of automatic rifle or submachine gun. The shootout was reported to be between the ABB and Empire. This section of land is debatably both’s territory.

I sling down to the roof of the warehouse where the shootout is happening and peer inside from the skylights. I can’t rush into this without analyzing the situation first.

Down below I can see the red and green of the ABB on one side and the red, black, and white of the E88 on the other. Also Azn Bad Boyz is such a cringe name. The Empire 88, as loath as I am to give a win to the Nazis, has a much better name.

Anyways both groups are hiding behind scrap and taking potshots at each other. As if reading my mind, Ordan states, “BBPD forces are on their way and will arrive in an estimated three minutes.”

Three minutes is enough time for at least one of these idiots to die. I am going to have to intervene before the BBPD arrives. There are only a couple gangers on each side. It isn’t a full on gang war or anything so cape presence is unlikely.

If I take down too many on either side then the winning side may advance and kill the other so I’ll have to go man for man, and stealth mode so they don’t team up and turn on me.

I activate void mode and drop in behind an Empire thug hiding behind an abandoned piece of machinery and punch him hard in the back of the head knocking him out. If this guy gets a major concussion not my problem, he shouldn’t have been in a gang shootout.

I sling back up to the rafters and deactivate void mode. I need time to recharge. I move over to the ABB side and find an ABB thug with an smg hiding behind an overturned forklift. Taking out the guys behind cover first is smartest. I do the same thing to him as I did the last guy and move back up to the rafters.

I sling down behind another Empire thug and since he isn’t behind enough cover to be laid flat, I Void Blast him into a wall away from the shooting. I don’t trust one of the gangers to shoot a downed enemy.

I sling up to some shelving behind the ABB and fire a Void Beam straight into a ganger’s face, who was knocking them hard into the concrete. Bruising galore, sucks to be you! Another beam sends an Empire guy peeking around a column to the floor.

Only two left on the Empire side and one on the ABB side. I take a few potshots at an ABB guy hiding behind cover but none hit. He peeks out and aims up to shoot at me but I sling around behind him before he can take a shot. I Void Blast him straight into his buddy next to him sending them both sprawling.

I sling over to the final Empire thug and kick him hard in the balls.

Fuck Nazis.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, September 2010

Director Piggot of the PRT ENE is a busy woman. Between time spent managing the Wards, Protectorate, and PRT troops and their various minutiae and time spent in dialysis machines Emily Piggot had little time for much else in her life.

She took her job seriously, Nilbog proved that. And maybe she doesn’t trust parahumans any more and maybe she will never allow one to touch her body again but she does what she can to help regardless.

Being outnumbered and outclassed in every corner certainly doesn’t make her job easy. And now she has a new issue on the docket. The independent hero Tenno.

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The room is filled with many people sitting at a round table. At the head lay Emily Piggot and surrounding her were some higher ups at the PRT and capes both from the Wards and Protectorate.

“Alright, and moving on to the next topic we have a new cape in the Bay. An independent hero, codenamed Tenno,” she says. “Assault you met with this person, thoughts?” The table looks over to him as he begins to speak.

“Well, from our short conversation she seemed to be pretty normal as far as personality is concerned. A decent sense of humor and overall the takedown on the mugger was done with little damage beyond bruising. She did seem to have knowledge of basic emergency medical care which is rare among non-protectorate trained capes. Her costume was also very well made from what I could tell. I gave her the statistics and pushed lightly for the Wards,” he says.

“Armsmaster,” Director Piggot begins, “give us a breakdown of suspected powers and ratings.

“During the time between when Tenno met Assault and today she has intervened to stop or mitigate an average of two or three small crimes a night. She seems to have a decent mover rating which lets her travel invisibly between places but only within line of sight. A blaster righting which manifests as a burst of energy or a concentrated beam and a stranger rating which lets her turn invisible. She might have a tinker rating based on the use of magnetic locking cuffs she uses to secure criminals and the costume she has or it might be a partner we haven’t seen,” he says.

“Her most recent activity was stopping a gang shootout between the E88 and ABB where she took down three ABB members and five E88 members without loss of life on either side and with minimal injuries,” he continues.

“Impressive and a Tinker with extra powers is rare,” Battery comments.

“Overall her ratings are tentatively Stranger 4, Mover 3, Blaster 4, and a suspected tinker 2,” Armsmaster says.

“A pretty broad range,” Aegis comments.

“Yes, which is why she would be a good asset to have on the Wards or at the very least aligned with the PRT,” Director Piggot says. “Tenno is coming in on Sunday for registration with the PRT. We’ll try and push recruitment then.”

The meeting ends there.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, September 2010

School is a lot more interesting and fruitful with Ordan around. Getting around the faraday cage was not super difficult with tinker tech, since it is designed to thwart children, not futuristic Cephalons. Speaking of Cephalons, being connected to the internet and having futuristic insane processing power means he knows as much as any of the teachers do.

He doesn’t provide me with answers or anything, but it is nice to have him help me have better reading comprehension and memorize spanish vocabulary faster. His snarky comments and jokes are becoming a problem though.

Whenever he says something especially funny I want to laugh out loud but no one else heard what he said obviously so I would look like I was laughing at nothing and it would make me look crazy. I don’t really want to look crazy.

Truly engaging with Victoria, Amy, Dean, Matt, Jess, and Carly is hard for me. I think I might have social issues but I did get invited to a pizza place for dinner with the group next Friday so I think I am doing well enough.

Math and sciences with my powers is not trivial but it certainly isn’t difficult any more. It isn’t something I can do without thinking, but I can think and solve any problem thrown at me in a small amount of time.

The teacher said they are considering bumping me up a level in Math which would be nice. Ordan acted like a proud older brother when he heard that, saying that I could start to approach his greatness or something, but I think he just meant congratulations.

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Standing outside the PRT building is daunting. The PRT headquarters is a taller building in downtown with countless visible security measures. It is a lot like having a fully active army base right next to a mall: a clash of styles.

“You ready Ordan?”

“Yep. Going dark,” he says. The PRT base had a similar faraday cage setup to Arcadia, only much more advanced and thus much harder for me to stay connected to Ordan and the dashboard. Rather than waste hours figuring out how to counter something that my allies use to stop spyware I figure it is best to just not have Ordan with me for the hour or two I am here.

I already secured an alibi with my mom stating that I am going to a friend's house. She was too busy to really ask for their contact info so no double checking if I am there.

Stepping into the lobby I turn quite a few heads. Even at the PRT base and Wards HQ seeing capes is not an everyday occurrence for the average Brocktonite. Also Brocktonite is a silly name to call us but I honestly can’t think of anything better.

I walk up to the receptionist and she asks, “What are you here for?”

“I am here to meet with Mr. Bradley regarding the unicorn homicide on 5th and Jameson,” I reply in a completely serious tone.

The receptionist looks distinctly unamused. “Follow me,” she says and gets up from her chair being replaced by another receptionist one seat over.

We walk through a door towards the back and continue walking through a series of hallways. We stop in one room and she says, “Please deposit any weapons on your person here before proceeding to the meeting room.”

“I don’t currently carry any weapons,” I say and she looks surprised.

“None?” She asks.

“My fists are registered as deadly weapons, but I don’t think I can take them off.” Hopefully the second time's the charm.

It isn’t.

She looks once again unamused, but we continue towards a blank room with no walls or windows or one-way mirrors. Only a table and two chairs. Awfully uncomfortable, uncushioned chairs.

“Please wait a few moments, and someone will be with you to conduct the first stage,” she says as she leaves through the door.

Five minutes later a familiar man steps into the room. Assault sits down at the chair opposite me.

“Hey there,” he says.

“Howdy,” I reply.

“Now onto the questioning. Did you kill Nancy Smith in the reading room with the frying pan on the night of the fourteenth?!”

“You found me out detective,” I reply, “I knew she had to go before she could reveal my secret dalliance with Henry Smith,” I joke. We both laugh for a few seconds.

“Alright now onto the more serious questions before I get yelled at more,” he says. “Please verify all these details: you are an independent hero, you live in Brockton Bay, you plan to stay here, you are a tinker/blaster/stranger/mover with the powers of blasting energy, turning invisible and teleportation,” he lists.

I nod. “All that you said is correct.”

“Great, now why are you out there on the streets beyond just beating people up?” he asks.

I think for a moment before responding. “Truly my reasons are threefold, I enjoy helping people and I worry about the gang presence killing some of my friends, especially the Empire 88. But if I am being totally honest, it’s addictive. This lifestyle. Fighting crime, looking cool in a costume, snappy one-liners, an audience cheering…

I love it.”

Assault smiles, “I like an honest answer, very good.” I nod along with him. “And finally, what do you plan to do in the long term? Do you plan to join a team, the Wards, stay independent?”

“Independence suits me best for now. I have things I must do that I will not be able to if I join the Wards and a team takes a lot of time and effort I don’t have right now. I know independents die or are captured more often but I must continue on this path,” I say.

“Okay then, that should do it,” he says as he stands up. “Next we have power testing, if you consent,” I nod an affirmative, “and finally after that we go see Director Piggot,” he says.

Power testing here is a good idea to let them know what I can do. It allows me to sandbag heavily. I haven’t had to use several abilities or pieces of tech yet. I will pretend like my Void Blasts and Beams are not powerful enough to do any lasting damage and I do not have a breaker power so I can save that for a more important time. I do not see a time in which I would face off against the PRT but if the rumors about gangs having ins is true then it can’t hurt.

We walk out of the room and down another couple series of hallways. Now that I am looking at them I notice some tech and odd shapes on the walls and ceiling. Probably some tinkertech security system. Maybe developed by Armsmaster. We enter through a door to a large room.

The power testing room is what I imagine the average scp foundation/cia facility testing chamber would look like. Plain white concrete walls with a large open floor plan and a reinforced window up above with some personnel including what looked to be Armsmaster and some higher ups from the PRT.

“Alright,” Armsmaster’s voice came through a speaker, “let’s begin testing. Please list your known powers.” It seems his attitude for getting down to business is not exaggerated.

“Well, my power relies on a source of energy I call the void which flows through me. It allows me to fire blasts of kinetic force both as a directed beam and a larger area pushing attack. I can also turn invisible and teleport up to 100 feet in any given direction with line of sight,” I say.

Technically all those things are true. I left out the power of my blasts, the intangibility, and the exact methods of my teleportation.

“Begin the test by teleporting to the other side of the room,” Armsmaster says.

I comply and Void Sling from where I am standing to the opposite side of the testing room only about 30 feet away. I make sure to not conserve momentum. They will probably find out eventually but since I am mostly invisible when I do it, they might not for a while.

“Next please fire some of your energy in a beam at the target on the wall to your left.”

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Now that power testing (sandbagging) is over I am being led to Director Piggot’s office. It’s at the top of the PRT building. The PRT agent who led me knocks and motions for me to enter. The office is large with a view of The Rig out in the bay. Director Piggot herself is a heavy-set woman with blond hair. She looks a little sickly even. But that matters little compared to the sheer presence the woman has.

Like killing intent in anime I can feel that this woman means business and has the skills to be dangerous. Ordan and I did some research last night on all the top level PRT people we might meet. Emily Piggot has the “honor” of being one of two Ellisburg survivors. She stood her ground as her squad was slaughtered and made it out alive. It is impressive and shows the kind of grit she has to still be in the business after something like that.

“Nice to meet you, Director Piggot,” I say.

She ignores the greeting and just stares at me. Unlike Armsmaster, she has the social skills to know what she is doing and just doesn’t care. “Why do you not wish to join the Wards?” she asks.

“I value freedom too much,” I say. It’s a flimsy answer but it sounds a lot better than I am a very dangerous tinker.

She huffs slightly, “You’re young and immature and combining that with superpowers is a disaster. So far you have done an excellent job as far as independent heroes go. But you slip up, we come down on you hard and you’ll be in the Wards faster than you can say your own name,” she says.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay, September 2010

“So Ordan that’s basically what happened,” I say recounting my time in the PRT HQ.

Ordan hums an affirmative response. He is a little busy with planning our next big project it seems. I recently upgraded the processing power of the dashboard with some more resources I gathered from various means (aka invisible dumpster diving/stealing for Nazis).

Secret Project #3 is going to be my first main delve into my specialization. I’ve been thinking about it and Orokin technology, while something I can build, is not really my speciality.

For example, Armsmaster has the speciality of efficiency/miniaturization. It allows him to make things much smaller and more efficient while Squealer has a specialty that allows her to create special vehicles but really only special vehicles.

Each has a theme much more tied closely to a type of technology than any single mythical alien race. While I can’t deny that I might be different due to the Deal I made, almost all my designs relate to Void technology and transference specifically being my specialty. The Deal seems to have given me the powers of the Void and the technology to harness it.

Transference is the use of the Void to project the mind of a person into a host or vessel. Like a Master power, but from the other side of the solar system. The Orokin had little use for this technology until the creation of them.

The Warframes.

Beasts of flesh and metal. Created by taking infested flesh and infusing it with the void. Encasing the remains in a metal shell. A semi-sentient piece of armor controlled by the Tenno inside a transference pod. Built to fight for the Orokin. Bound by them.

Each Warframe has a unique set of abilities, not unlike a cape. One that can move at speeds similar to velocity, one that can shoot radiation beams like Legend, one that can control water like Leviathan, one who could project blades like Jack Slash.

I have the blueprints for so many warframes and the transference tech necessary to pilot them. I could replicate practically any cape. Hero or villain.

I would only need to give birth to it. The Helminth. A sentient being born of the infestation, a possibly sentient techno-organic plague that subsumes flesh and machine alike towards some unknown goal. It sounds as terrifying as it is. If released on Earth Bet it could destroy this world. I would not allow myself to be responsible for that. But I didn’t have to.

Much like how Blasto over in Boston could theoretically create the Last of Us cordyceps I could create the infestation. But the important part is we both chose not to. And also like Blasto, I am about to also create life. As long as it is not capable of self-replication, the PRT generally tolerated a bio-tinker creation, barely.

But before I could begin creating the Helminth, I need a few dozen failsafes to ensure it doesn’t escape and cannot be found. So here I am building a new tinker lab. But the process didn’t start here either.

First, with Ordan’s help I built a laser cutter. The laser cutter has a scanning function that allows me to locate specific minerals and elements and then cut them out of any rock. The ability to separate most common elements from one-another has sped up my material acquisition process ten-fold.

From using the materials gathered by this laser cutter I then constructed an Orokin excavation tool. In the story He showed me they could terraform entire planets, so digging underground for my new lab is not so difficult. I dug directly under my old one for a couple reasons.

First, the location is secluded. Second, anyone who follows me will find the old tinker lab, where I’ll leave some decoy tech, and think that they won. And third, because moving everything to a new location would be incredibly difficult to do without someone noticing.

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Once the ground was excavated I began work on the third step in the plan: building the foundry. The foundry is essentially an advanced 3d printer taking materials gathered in pure form from the laser cutter and combining them into numerous configurations. The only setback is that I need blueprints for everything that the machine creates, but luckily Ordan can help with that.

Once me and Ordan finished coding the blueprints for walls that could be printed in sections we created them out of a special alloy plate that could be used to build space-craft. This way no air will escape in or out, not that the Helminth creates spores or anything but it can’t hurt to be secure.

In order to fuse these wall sections together I also needed to build an Omni with the foundry. The Omni is/was? an Orokin tool used to repair the hulls of spaceships with a couple different building functions.

Before I could use the Omni to complete the actual exterior walls of my tinker lab I needed to fully plan the layout. What me and Ordan decided was that the dashboard should be directly in the entrance room which would be entered through a hole in the top.

From there a ramp would lower down to a large room housing the foundry and then to the left and back down another hallway would be a sealed room for the Helminth. By the time October was close to rolling around, we were only barely done with just the exterior walls.

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School continues to be school. The dinner with the group was happening soon which is nice. I think that I have found my place there as someone who is generally a quiet, but active participant in conversations and a bit more boisterous around smaller offshoots of the group. After school it was time for another dinner party.

The “family” company dinner tonight was about as boring as usual. Me and Theo talked for the duration about inane stuff, but we don’t have all that much in common beyond the video games that I find less and less time for lately. But being a cape is way cooler anyway.

But maybe I should make more time for my online friends. Right now, Ordan is the closest person to me and that includes my mom who has been wrapped up in work for Medhall.

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Standing on a rooftop is how I tend to start most of my nights. Mostly because I patrol at least four times a week, but also because it is peaceful high above the dangerous streets of the bay. Tonight would not be peaceful. Tonight will be a big milestone for me.

I’m taking down a drug den.

After beating up enough Nazis and letting a few run away and following them, I, combined with Ordan’s C.H.A.M.P. have found a large Empire drug den where an estimated 5% of their drugs are housed before sale. The operation itself is situated firmly in the center of empire territory towards the Southwest of Brockton Bay in a seemingly rundown lab-space owned by shell companies of shell companies in the Pharmaceuticals industry.

Since the Empire doesn’t tend to want their capes tied to drugs like the Merchants, they don’t tend to frequent these facilities so hopefully they won’t be here during my raid. The main danger lies in me being either not stealthy enough or not quick enough that the Protectorate doesn’t get here before E88 capes.

“Communications blackout in place, sister,” Ordan says.

“Good, I’m heading in, call the BBPD and PRT while you are at it,” I say.

I Void Sling up to a ledge near a window on the top floor. The building is only two floors, but the building plans show an extensive basement. I slide inside the broken window and land quietly on the top floor of the building. Surveying my surroundings shows no activity. I move around slowly across the floor looking for any Nazi goons. I see some money I swipe, and I’ll leave the paperwork for the police since it is evidence. So is the money now that I think about it, but finders keepers there.

After finishing the sweep of the top floor and finding no one I head down to the ground level. I go into Void Mode as I slowly open the door, popping back behind the wall to the left of the doorway to recharge.

I enter Void Mode again and once again begin a sweep of the floor. This floor looks very abandoned. Dingy light bulbs flickering and once again no one in sight. They probably think that an abandoned look makes it so anyone who enters suspects nothing about a drug den in the basement.

With the first floor sweeped, I look towards the door to the basement. “Ordan, how much time till the PRT and BBPD arrives?” I ask Ordan quietly over the communicator.

“Seven minutes, sister,” he responds.

“Okay, heading into the drug den proper,” I say.

“Shouldn’t you just wait for the authorities to arrive?” he asks.

“It’ll be fine.”

I repeat the process for opening the basement door that I did for the first floor. Proceeding down the stairs I can hear some activity. At the bottom of the stairs is a locked door. Crap. No windows for a Void Sling either so that sucks. The lock looks like a standard door lock with nothing fancy on it so that is something. I may just have to wait for the BBPD to arrive.

No, wait, I have an idea. Okay this is gonna be cool as fuck. I step back a few steps and bring my arm back. I thrust it forward and at the same time unleash a light Void Blast which shakes the door. A little harder, huh. I repeat the action with a harder push. Boom! The door pops off its hinges and falls to the ground.

The loud noise and door being busted open does alert the guards however who turn immediately to look towards where the door just fell off its hinges to see nothing. I am already in Void Mode and moving into the basement proper. I hide behind a lab table that goes to the floor and recover my energy.

Looking over while most of the goons are still distracted by the door I count ten people in the basement. They all have sidearms trained on the door with only two bigger looking guards having rifles. I take aim and use a Void Beam to knock both flat with a sweeping motion. All of the remaining people turn to me. They fire but I take cover again and sling behind a new table further towards the back of the room. I pop up and fire another beam taking out one guy closest to the door. More covering fire but this time I go into Void Mode and wait for the firing to stop. I pick up a beaker from behind the table and throw it towards the door and like a hitman game they all turn to aim towards the noise.

I use this opportunity to exit Void Mode and run up behind one goon and take him down hard before slinging towards the right side of the basement. From there, with only a couple left, I rinse and repeat until all of the Empire goons are down for the count. I go to tie them up when I hear someone coming down the stairs.

“Ordan, is the BBPD early?” I ask.

“No, they shouldn’t be there for another five minutes,” he answers.

A figure walks through the door of the building.

Stormtiger.