Worm

by wildbow

  He stopped himself before he admitted the full extent of his difficulties back home.

  “…I was taking it out on the new guy, when he probably doesn’t deserve it.”

  Vista let her head rest on his arm.

  “I miss the old Dennis. The guy who picked a sorta rude codename and announced himself in front of the news so Piggy and the other people in charge couldn’t really make him change it. Because it was funny. Because he liked pushing the limits and because he saw this all as something fun. The new Dennis is so angry. Now I guess I get why.”

  “Aren’t you? Angry? At everything that’s going on? At the unfairness of what happened?”

  She shook her head, which amounted to rubbing her head against his shoulder. “Yeah. But you can’t let it consume you. If you really don’t like Weld, you don’t have to force yourself to get along with him. But don’t stay like this. Don’t stay angry.”

  He nodded. It wasn’t so easy, though. Letting things go, relaxing, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d fall apart if he did. He couldn’t get his hopes up about Panacea’s willingness to help his dad—and facing any of that head on, without a buffer of smouldering fury? It might leave him unable to serve and protect the people who really needed it. He felt his pulse quicken a step at the thought of it.

  He hedged his answer, “I’ll work on it. Sorry if that’s been bothering you.”

  “It’s okay. I’m tougher than I look.” She bumped one fist against the armor that covered her chest.

  “And I’m sorry, again, for saying what I did. You’re good people, Missy.”

  “Want to go back to class?” she asked.

  “If you’re okay?”

  She nodded.

  When they returned, the Wards and Glory Girl were out in the hallway. The PRT officers were rushing out of the room, pulling their helmets on.

  “You’re back,” Weld informed them, “Just in time. Class is cancelled. We’ve got trouble.”

  * * *

  The scene was set up in the husk of a building. Walls loomed on three sides, but there was no roof remaining. The floor was uneven, composed of layers of broken boards, shattered drywall and chunks of concrete.

  “There’s two more crime scenes like this?” Clockblocker asked, eyes wide. He craned his neck upward to look above them.

  “Yeah,” Weld spoke.

  “It’s the middle of the day,” Kid Win spoke. “Broad daylight.”

  Clockblocker looked at the overcast sky above. Not quite daylight. And people weren’t around. It was still ballsy, and more than a little scary.

  On each of the three interior walls of the older building was a body, twenty feet above the ground. Each had received a different kind of treatment. To their left was a corpse that had been flayed, the gender no longer identifiable. Directly opposite their group was the corpse of an obese woman, charred black. Completing the scene was the body of what appeared to be a homeless man, or one of the people who’d been rendered homeless by the recent disaster, judging by the layers of clothing he wore. His limbs had been severed at each joint, then reconnected so each was joined by a short, foot-long length of chain. Nails placed through the chain kept him in position, head hanging, a macabre puppet with an overlong body. The chains jangled and swung in the wind.

  Occupying the same building as the corpses was a familiar group. Trickster, Sundancer and Ballistic stood beneath the corpses. A winged figure that might have been a gargoyle, demon or dragon was clutching to the sides of an empty window frame with three talons, the other reaching toward the homeless man. Genesis.

  “Pardon the cliche, but this isn’t what it looks like,” Trickster spoke.

  “I believe you,” Weld spoke. “I’ve read your file, and this isn’t your M.O.”

  “Excellent, excellent. I commend you,” Trickster tipped his hat. “Then we’ll be on our way?”

  “No. But if you come into custody—”

  “You’ll arrest us for any number of other criminal charges we’ve got waiting. And you can’t promise that one of your superiors won’t try to stick us with the blame for this.”

  Weld frowned.

  “Let us go. Whatever happened here, it deserves your full attention. You should be trying to find and capture the real criminals. This guy here was still alive when we arrived.” Trickster pointed at the man with the chain limbs.

  “Can’t do that. You’re still suspects, regardless of how much this deviates from your usual methods.”

  “A shame,” Trickster bowed.

  In the blink of an eye, Weld disappeared, and Genesis loomed in his place, eight feet tall and nearly as broad across the shoulders, a body of pebble-like scales, heavy with muscle, a short tail and broad bat wings sprouting from her shoulders. She spun to face the rest of the Wards as Weld fell from the window.

  Ballistic turned on the fallen captain of the Wards, unloading a barrage of debris and rubble to keep the metal skinned boy off-balance and on the defensive.

  Clockblocker lunged for Genesis, hand outstretched. He was mere inches away when Genesis disappeared from in front of him. Or, rather, Clockblocker had been moved somewhere else. A lack of proper footing made him stumble, and he nearly collided with one of the dilapidated walls of the ruined building.

  As he spun in place, catching a glimpse of Genesis exchanging blows with Glory Girl, he had his position swapped yet again. He found himself once more with his back to the brawling pair. One of them bumped into him, and he sprawled. If only he’d been able to tell if it were Genesis or Glory Girl that bumped into him; had he known, he might have used his power, taken Genesis out of the fight.

  Annoying. He climbed to his feet, wary of more teleportation hijinks.

  Kid Win wheeled on the spot to raise a square-nosed pistol and fire what looked like a brilliant blue flare at Trickster, but the teleporter swapped positions with him. Kid Win ducked the moment he was teleported, but he still got grazed by his own shot, blue sparks showering off his armored costume, small arcs of electricity dancing briefly around the metal joins. Sundancer created her flaming ball—small, but still far too bright to look at—and sent it after Kid Win. The young hero scrambled for cover, dropping his gun in his hurry to get away from the superheated orb. Flechette moved to shoot, then reconsidered, threw a handful of darts at Trickster instead. The darts disappeared in midair, and splinters of wood and small stones dropped straight out of the air where they had been.

  Really fucking annoying, Clockblocker revised his summation of the teleporter.

  Shadow Stalker had positioned herself on the ragged top of the wall where the roof had crumbled away, high above the skirmish, cloak billowing. She fired a shot at Ballistic and Sundancer, reloaded as Ballistic sent a piece of rubble flying through her shadowy form, then fired again. The Travelers had body armor, so she wasn’t doing more than distracting them. The needles of the tranquilizer darts wouldn’t pass through the durable armor or material.

  “Red rover!” Vista shouted, “Go!”

  Good girl. Clockblocker dashed for Trickster, and the distance between them compressed to a matter of feet, the highest points in the uneven ground flattening to make running easier.

  Trickster swapped him with Vista, placing him several feet back. Ahead of him, he could see the girl where he’d just been, within a few feet of the teleporter. Clockblocker found his footing, darted forward once more. Again, Vista’s powers helped close the distance. Kid Win, Flechette, and Vista joined him in charging the enemy, so that Clockblocker wouldn’t be set too far back if he was teleported to their locations.

  Sundancer moved the orb in between them and Trickster, igniting a few of the pieces of wood that were exposed and above the water. Vista responded by raising her hand to shrink it dramatically. Weld ducked one of Ballistic’s attacks, then charged for the orb, striking it out of the air with one fist. The blow dispersed it enough that Sundancer couldn’t draw it back together, and a wave of hot air washed over everyone present.


  Weld, for his part, staggered back, his hand glowing white-hot. He flexed his glowing hand, and it moved slowly, stiffly. Even as far down as his elbow, the metal of his arm was an orange-red.

  Clockblocker didn’t get a chance to see if Weld was okay. He charged around his team leader, using the metal boy’s broader body to put himself in Trickster’s blind spot. From this position, he tried to charge and tag the villain.

  An instant before his hand could brush against Trickster, the villain was gone, and Weld was in front of him. His hand touched the metal of Weld’s back.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when Weld turned around. Only the fact that he’d expected something along these lines had allowed him to turn his power off in time. Spinning around, Clockblocker reached for the space Weld had just vacated, but Trickster was already swapping places with Glory Girl to place himself as far away from the thick of the fighting as he could get.

  I can’t keep track of this guy.

  Clockblocker looked around to survey the situation. His group was sandwiched between the Travelers, now. On one side, Sundancer and Ballistic crouched in the far corner of the building. Trickster and Genesis stood on the other side, atop the rubble that spilled across the building’s entrance and onto the flooded street.

  Genesis inhaled, chest expanding, and Weld was the first to react, stomping one foot hard into the rubble underfoot, using his foot to raise a large, ragged piece of plywood. With his hands, he forced the large wooden board into a standing position, placing it between himself and Genesis. Kid Win, Flechette and Vista wheeled on Ballistic and Sundancer.

  Weld’s piece of plywood served to block the worst of whatever it was that Genesis exhaled. From what Clockblocker could see around the plywood, it was a dark, gray-black vapor. Wisps billowed around the edge of the board and drifted their way—it had a bitter smell and taste, like ashes mixed with something foul. Even inhaling a trace of it through the air holes of his mask forced barking coughs from his lungs. His teammates seemed to be in rougher shape, Vista falling to her hands and knees. The changer’s exhalation hadn’t even reached them directly.

  So, that’s what a changer nine brings to the table. Different forms, each with their own powers.

  Weld staggered as Genesis lunged forward, and Clockblocker ducked low under Weld’s arm, planted a hand against the plywood. He felt his power snap out to encompass the material, and he fixed it in place, cutting it off from the flow of time.

  A second later, he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. Weld, standing over him, gave him a quick smile and an offered hand. He returned it with the briefest of nods and took Weld’s hand to stand straight. Together, the pair of them stepped back and away, to see Genesis rising into the air with heavy flaps of her bat-like wings, inhaling to prepare another blast of the noxious smoke.

  He felt oddly calm as his group squared off against the villains with some of the highest power ratings in Brockton Bay, beneath the grim display of the three hanging corpses. He reached into the slot of the armor at his side and withdrew two sheaves of paper. Moving his thumbs in one direction, he fanned out the papers, holding them like anyone else might hold a pair of knives.

  He realized what it was, this calm. Whatever else it was, this fight was a refuge from that feeling that had plagued him since the fight with Leviathan ended. The feeling that he was always in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing at the wrong time, in the face of a city in crisis and a dying father. This, right here, was where he was needed.

  This is what I’m here for.

  Sentinel 9.4

  I’m a tinker. I’m supposed to be smart.

  So how can I have been so stupid?

  Ballistic raised one hand and pointed at Kid Win. He waited until Kid Win moved before kicking at the uneven, rubble-strewn ground, sending a spray of concrete and wood fragments flying like a hail of bullets. It only grazed the teenage hero mid-leap, lacerating the side of his stomach, hip and thigh, chipping his armor. It still hit hard enough that it twisted him in midair. He landed on his back atop the rubble that covered the ground, grunted.

  “Hey!” Ballistic bellowed, “Little girl!”

  Kid Win saw Ballistic pointing at Vista. The villain, between his build and armor, had the frame of a football player, a dramatic contrast to the young heroine. He pointed at her, paused long enough for her to bend the ground into a semblance of cover, then launched a chunk of concrete at her.

  The concrete flew at an angle that wouldn’t have hit the girl anyways, struck the barrier and shattered, sending debris careening onto and into the girl. Vista screamed and fell backwards, part of her barrier crumbling to land on top of her.

  He’s telling us exactly where he’s going to attack next.

  Kid Win looked up, saw Sundancer with her orb hovering a good fifteen feet off the ground, keeping it away from the walls of the building and the corpses that were hung above them. Even though it was fifteen feet up and thirty feet away, he could feel the heat of it prickle his exposed skin. He knew from the Endbringer fight that she could make it bigger, move it faster.

  As the burning sphere drifted forward, staying at roughly the same height, Flechette and Glory Girl were forced to scramble away. Shadow Stalker leaped off of the top of the wall and into the alleyway next to the building to get away from the heat. Only Vista remained where she was, caught under debris that she was striving to shrink down and push away.

  It dawned on Kid Win. Sundancer and Ballistic, at the very least, were holding back. Because they were strong enough that going all out would leave corpses.

  The revelation didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, it was just the opposite. If these guys got desperate or panicked, they might stop being so polite about it.

  Trickster and Genesis were tangling with Weld and Clockblocker—Clockblocker was putting paper in the air, freezing it to give himself footholds to go after his flying opponent. Any time Genesis moved to attack, Clockblocker set paper in her way, edge towards her, or he tried to duck in close enough to touch her. Giving up on more physical means, she exhaled a cloud of the choking smoke. Clockblocker and Weld both worked together to minimize the spread of the cloud, using paper and plywood, freezing it in place with Clockblocker’s power.

  Kid Win decided they had a handle on that. It was up to him to help against Ballistic and Sundancer.

  As he climbed to his feet, breaking into a run before he was even standing straight, he raised his spark pistol and fired off a series of oversized blue sparks at Ballistic.

  Trickster managed to teleport him again, swapping his position with Ballistic’s. The forward momentum of his sprint was enough to get him out of the way of his own gunfire.

  His spark pistol sported a small power core that used spatial warping technology to magnify and then reabsorb a steady electrical current. The barrel was wired with a helix-shaped electromagnetic rail, based on some of Armsmaster’s old data on the ‘hard’ light Purity and Dauntless created. Nanomolecular, ionically charged rifling on the barrel’s interior was arranged to guide the fired charges into a rough elliptical shape, which sustained their shape and consistency the longest.

  In laymen’s terminology, it was not unlike a power bar that was plugged into itself, with a small addition that made each revolution of the current larger than the one before. An attached battery kept the current going. The shots themselves were ‘hard’ electricity condensed into balls, which meant they had a physical impact to them, due to how they carried and transferred kinetic energy. Given how the weapon charged, waiting a few seconds between shots meant the next shot hit harder, up to a limit.

  I can make something like this, which is brilliant, then I go and dismantle my fricking hoverboard to get parts for a project I never even finish. Idiot.

  Ballistic marched towards Vista, who was trying to climb to her feet. He was intercepted by Glory Girl, who slammed him into a wall. She punched him, drove her knee into his gut, then slammed him against the wall again, to keep him off-balanc
e and hurting.

  Ballistic slumped against her and grabbed at the collar of her costume for support. A second later, Glory Girl was a blur, disappearing into the skyline. His attacker gone, Ballistic fell onto his hands and knees with a grunt.

  Flechette threw a handful of darts at Sundancer, pinning the girl against the wall. Somehow Flechette had avoided Trickster’s attention. How? Kid Win turned to look, saw that she was standing so her body blocked Trickster’s line of sight to both the darts and his teammate.

  So he can only teleport what he sees?

  Kid Win moved to mimic Flechette’s technique, running to a position where he would be between the injured Ballistic and Trickster. He cocked his spark pistol.

  He was nearly lined up for his shot when his gun disappeared from his hand, an awkwardly sized piece of wood taking its place. A second later, his mask and visor cracked against a hard surface. He had to grip the wall to steady himself and keep from falling. He’d been teleported.

  Then the wall moved beneath his hand, and he heard Clockblocker shout, “Get down, Kid!”

  He let himself fall, simultaneously realizing he had been leaning against Genesis, in her gargoyle-like form. Weld slammed into the villainess, his left hand in the form of a heavy miner’s pick. It did a surprising amount of damage, but she didn’t seem to care. She gripped Weld around the face with a claw, raked his chest twice with criss-crossing slashes of her other hand, leaving deep gouges in the metal. The same noxious black smoke that she had been breathing began to billow out of the hole the pick had made in her chest.

  Clockblocker charged, but Genesis shoved Weld so the two heroes stumbled into one another, delaying them long enough for her to leap into the air. She beat her wings to keep herself aloft and out of reach.

  Kid Win unslung his laser rifle and fired at the villainess. His first shot grazed her, as one flap of her wings carried her higher into the air, but the next two hit the mark. One struck her in the shoulder, leaving a hole large enough to fit his hand through, the other struck her in the side of the head, doing a similar amount of damage.