Ancient Legos [Worm/Stargate]

Ancient Legos
Chapter 01
Legacy​

Captain’s Log, Earth Date: February 6th, 2011

I don't remember my trigger. Most parahumans do. The only ones that don’t are Case 53s, and I am not monstrous in any way or form. I am not sure what happened to me, to be honest.

Not sure at all…

All I do remember is that one week, everything was going fine. The next week, that hadn't stopped, but I started getting…

Sigh. Ideas.

Odd ones, honestly. It's as if something inside me is telling me that I can make things, incredible things. All kinds of spacecraft, technology like you wouldn't believe. Even stuff that makes what the Tinkers of our world come up with these days look like calculators.

But none of that can be right, because it tells me I can make these things with Legos.

Legos. The children’s toy bricks that can be used to construct models. Colorful, varied, but mostly rectangular plastic.

I have many craft constructed in my bedroom now. Even as I compose this log, I'm messing around, or as my brother and sister say, ‘Stupid Tinkering’, with my smallest craft model. Something that looks like a cylinder with a sloped top and bottom. It even has a little window on the front.

But something is missing. All my projects have that problem.

Not to mention, it's clear to me now that I haven't actually triggered. I'm not a Tinker. No amount of Tinker bullshit can make Legos do something. My parents are disappointed, not in me but for me. They've seen how much this means to me now. They've even followed my pleas for random, esoteric Lego pieces that haven't been made for decades.

Thankfully I haven't needed many of those. They aren't exactly cheap, especially after Leviathan sank a large part of Japan, wiped out a portion of the East Asian coastline, and the most relevant, brought international shipping to a halt.

Well, the product and stuff kind. The pairing kind has only escalated in response.

Anyways… I'm disheartened. If I indeed have powers, they're cruel. They fill my mind with visions of fantastic space battles, spacecraft flying through the sky, advanced alien metropolises and even flying cities.

Yet they relegate me to reproducing these designs with frakking Legos.

Oh, and they don't actually do anything, either. At least if they did I could actually help my city. Might look kinda stupid but at least my powers wouldn't be useless.

End Log.

---

I sighed, placing my laptop down next to me on our porch swing couch. It’d been two weeks since I ‘triggered’. Models of ships were filling up my bedroom. But no matter what I did, nothing came of it; just more Lego models.

Is that what I was? The world’s lamest Tinker? Someone with a specialization so bad that I had eclipsed Leet? Frakking Leet, the guy who could never build anything twice and had most of his creations explode in his face?!

I was done with this shit, frankly. I abruptly found myself standing up, growling. My anger rose fast.

“It's not fair!” I yelled to the sky.

Nobody answered.

They hadn’t the last six times, either.

With one last look of disgust, I turned back from my yard and started to enter my house. In a final fit of anger, I threw the model of the little shuttlecraft over my shoulder as hard as I could. If they wouldn’t do anything for me, well…

I was done indulging whatever power I might have.

FWOOMPH

A huge displacement of air slammed into my back. It rattled the porch, set our swing chair moving, and slammed the screen door I'd just opened shut in front of my face.

Thankfully my laptop was decently heavy, so it only moved an inch. My heart rate began to come down from the beat of a hummingbird’s wings it had so helpfully decided to emulate.

What in the hell?

I spun back around to try and see what happened. What I found made me stand there, stunned.

What the frak.

What. The. Frak.

No seriously. What.

My brother came out of the screen door, initially looking at me. “What happened?” he asked. “We heard some kind of boom!”

I just put my hand on his shoulder and slightly turned him. My brother was confused for a couple of seconds until his eyes landed on what I was looking at too.

“Bro,” he asked, “what the hell?”

My jaw worked up and down, trying and failing to speak. “I… It was just a Lego model. In my hand,” I finally managed to get out.

My brother looked at me again. “How did you turn a Lego model into that?!”

“I just… I threw it over my shoulder,” I stammered.

“You threw a model over your shoulder and it turned into a spaceship,” he deadpanned.

I gulped. “Ye-yeah.”

My sister exited the house next. “Guys, what's taking you so lo-” she started, but cut herself off. “Woah.”

Our parents were last, having followed my sister out. “Son,” my dad asked, “Why is there a spaceship on the lawn?”

My mouth was dry. The implications of this were… staggering. Absolutely incredible. “I was working on my shuttle model, got pissed at how useless my apparently completely real powers seemingly were, turned to go back into the house and threw it over my shoulder,” I explained. “Then… that.” I raised both hands in the direction of the craft, shaking them for presentation.

“Your powers are bullshit, bro,” my sister said it all for us.

---

Of course I became a Ward. I wasn't remotely interested in the Villain shtick. And while I could have made it well as a rogue, I'd rather help the guys trying to fight against the bad guys, thank you very much.

That doesn't mean that I wasn't massively entertained when I uncloaked my shuttle in front of the PRT building. Or the reaction of the Director when she interviewed me.

“You're a Tinker,” Piggot stated flatly, “who makes things out of Legos, and then somehow brings them to life?”

I looked between the assembled capes and my family. They all were wearing chagrined disbelief on their faces. I looked back at Director Piggot and nodded. “Uh, I think so?” I cautioned.

At her unimpressed lol I hastily contributed. “All I know is, I've got plans in my head, need to make them into Lego models, and somehow one of those models turned into my shuttle when I threw it over my shoulder.”

Piggot stared at me for a good thirty seconds. “Weldon,” she said evenly, “I've met a lot of Tinkers. You have just managed to eclipse them all in your severe levels of complete, total, and utter bullshit.”

I grinned. “Thanks?”

She sighed and rubbed her nose. “What else can you conceivably build? Do you know your specialization?”

“I’m decently sure it's ships, Director,” I announced.

She let her hand hang, a now entirely, completely disbelieving look sent my way.

“Ships?” Armsmaster asked.

“Yeah. Like spaceships,” I confirmed.

Now everyone was staring at me with even more disbelief. “What?” I asked.

“Your Tinker specialization is just as much bullshit as your power itself,” Assault grumbled.

“How big are these… Ships?” Miss Militia asked, looking like she really didn't want to.

“Uh… They vary? I mean, if you want the biggest one's dimensions, the Cityships are like… Five kilometers square and one tall,” I informed them. “I think, anyways.”

More disbelieving stares. “What?” I asked again, confused.

“I take it back,” Director Piggot said. “Your power now holds the record for bullshit, period, Tinker or no.”

I grinned widely. “I've got a really cool battlecruiser in my pocket. Want to see it?” I looked more at Assault than the director as I said this.

What? I'm a cape geek. I knew he'd appreciate the joke.

“Hah!” he exclaimed. “Are you happy to see me?”

“I don't know man, you might have problems keeping up,” I fired off.

The guy's eyes widened and he grinned back. “Please, please join the Wards,” he almost begged. “I need someone besides Clockblocker with a sense of humor!”

Battery punched him on the shoulder, facepalming with her free hand. He barely reacted beyond the clearly exaggerated wince and the expression of mock pain that would win him one of my school's drama awards. “Don't encourage him,” she complained.

I shrugged. “Hey, I want to join the Wards. If the PRT thinks they… you, can handle my apparently unique levels of bullshit, I'm game.”

A stern glare from my mom brought me back down to Earth again. “And, y’know, if my folks agree.”

They agreed. After making me promise to fill out everything as payment for that comment.

...

Paperwork sucks.

---

I met the current leader of the Wards just outside the conference room.

“Aegis!” I greeted him, happily shaking his hand. I had a lot of energy now that I'd realized my powers really existed.

“Hey,” he responded. Despite the shock in his eyes at my display, he weathered through it. “I wanted to welcome you to the Wards, Will. I've also been asked to take you to see the Wards themselves while the adults finish up in there.”

I pumped his arm one more time and grinned. “Sounds good. Gotta admit, full disclosure; I'm a big fan of yours.”

He snorted. “Not the first and won't be the last. Come on, the elevator's this way.”

Aegis led me to the obviously Tinkertech elevator on the other end of the building from the one my family head taken from the lobby. “So what's your specialty? I know we have you pegged as a Tinker, but your power ratings didn't mention it.”

I grinned widely as the elevator doors interleaved closed and the metal box started to move downwards. “Spaceships.”

Aegis’ eyes shot wide open and he looked straight at me. “You're joking.”

I shook my head. “Nope. I also have this odd Breaker/Striker power that makes my creations real, but I don't really have a solid handle on activating that yet,” I explained. “Just a hunch.”

The elevator arrived at the Wards floor far faster than it should have. Tinkertech indeed. As we walked out, Aegis raised his eyebrows. “Why do you need to make them real? I mean, you build spaceships, right?”

I snorted and shook my head. “Yes and no. I build Lego models of my ships, and the second power turns them into fully functional, full size ones.”

Aegis stopped dead. When he looked at me again, his face was a mask of disbelief.

“Yeah, that's how the entire room looked when I announced my powers.”

The leader of the team I'd just joined blew out a breath. “Dare I ask how big your spaceships get?”

“The Cityships are five by five by one kilometers,” I revealed.

Aegis tripped over his own feet.

“You okay dude?” I asked him, feeling concerned.

He got up shakily, groaning. “I'm fine. They must have redone the floors in this hallway when I wasn't looking.”

I smirked at him as we arrived at the end of the hall, a heavily reinforced door with an obvious eye scanner rig next to it. “Suuure,” I snarked.

“You, of all people, don't get to say anything about belief, mister I make spaceships,” he shot back.

I grinned at him. He'd gotten over the surprise fairly quickly. "That's fair."

Aegis scoffed. "At least we've got another heavy hitter on the team," he managed, sending me a somewhat stable grin.

I gave him a thumbs up. "It'd be a pretty lame specialization if I didn't get big honking space guns out of it."

That one cracked his grump. He laughed, rolling his eyes. "Good point. Anyways, let's go in." He held his eyes down slightly to the wall mounted eye scanner. Two little beams of green light flashed out, traced his eyes, and disappeared. A mellow alarm started chiming softly.

At my raised eyebrow, he explained. “There's a thirty second delay so that anyone who needs to mask up can do so before someone comes in.”

“Ah,” I nodded.

---

“Wards,” Aegis boomed, “I'd like you to meet our newest member.”

“Hey guys,” I waved. “I'm Weldon, but I go by Will. Don't really have a costume or cape name yet.”

“That's fine. Good to meet you, Will,” Gallant said. “I'm Gallant. Or Dean Stansfield on the street.”

Well no shit, hard to miss that particular armor design.

Also, score one. Though it didn't really count because of Glory Girl being as subtle as the brick she flew.

Kid Win was sitting at what I recognized as the infamous Console. He turned to look at me, but didn't get up. “Hey,” he greeted me. “Kid Win, or Chris.”

“Hey Chris,” I nodded to him. Internally, my eyes were wide. Not necessarily in surprise, more with glee, because Chris being the Ward meant I won the betting pot. That Tinker pudding would be mine!

“Sup,” Clockblocker said, approaching me with an offered hand. “I’m Dennis, or Clockblocker in costume.”

...Wat.

Oh hell no. They were both Wards?! MY PUDDING!!!

I noticed Vista approaching out of the side of my eye while I peered at Dennis’ hand disbelievingly in order to cover up my internal turmoil. I was sure Dean was getting an eye full but he at least seemed to be considerate enough to not mention anything.

“Dude. I'm a cape geek. I frequent PHO. I'm not falling for that.”

Dennis frowned. “Damn. Well, nice to meet a fellow forum troll,” he smirked.

“Likewise,” I grinned back.

“Vista, or Missy when I'm out of costume,” the resident space warper introduced herself, shaking my hand.

“Nice to meet you, Missy,” I greeted her.

Well, she was technically in the running... but she didn't go to my school. Our school, I guess, since I was in the room with several classmates. Anyways, she wasn't really a priority target.

Also, it hit me that I wouldn't actually be able to collect my wins because it would violate the conflict of interest thing that my friends and I had set up.

But I also couldn't not participate because that would blow my cover faster than I already thought it was going to be!

...On reflecting, that policy was so obviously a logic trap just in case any of us became a Ward and didn't want to tell the group that it was obscene.

When nobody else approached me, I turned my head with a raised eyebrow to Aegis.

“Browbeat and Shadow Stalker are currently out on patrol,” he informed me.

“Ah,” I acquiesced. I was about to turn fully around when he took his helmet off.

“I'm Aegis, though you already know that,” he grinned. “My name is Carlos out of uniform.”

SON OF AN ICEBERG! IT'S ALL THREE OF THEM!!!

“Nice to meet you, Carlos,” I said, shaking his hand again. Dean was starting to send me weird looks and if I kept cursing my cape geek friends and myself in my head he'd probably eventually say something.

I resolved to try and calm down and deal with the fact every single one of the schoolmates my group had pegged as Wards were in fact exactly what we thought they were.

Also that their ability to keep a secret identity really, really sucked.

“Alright well, since you've been introduced to everyone, and given you seem to be up to date on our powers given your statement about PHO,” Aegis said, knocking me out of my thoughts, “would you mind telling us about yours?”

I saw that grin. “You already know them, Carlos, you just want to see who faints from shock,” I accused.

“I reserve the right against self incrimination,” he smirked back.

“Cape nerd!” Dennis coughed under his breath.

I mean, he was right, but I wasn't going to let the class clown of Arcadia one to me. Especially not as a fellow Ward.

“Just for that, Dennis,” I said, “you're gonna be the one who learns about them first.”

He widened his eyes and grabbed his chest in mock pain. “Woe is me! Will is going to turn his terrible powers upon my lowly self!”

Vista scoffed, did something incredibly uncomfortable with spacetime, and smacked him.

“Hey!” Dennis protested.

“Stop being such an idiot,” she complained.

"So I can be a little bit less of an idiot and that's fine?"

Turning to me and ignoring him, she smiled. “Go ahead, Will.”

I nodded to her. Then I allowed the glee I felt for my powers to reach the surface, smirked, and crossed my arms. “I'm a Tinker with a rather interesting Breaker/Striker ability.” Kid Win, Chris, sat up and paid attention. “Yes Chris, that means we can both nerd out over tech at some point.”

Several of the Wards chuckled as he blushed. Carlos barely managed to remain straight faced.

“However, you might not be very compatible with me. It's not you, it's me. I need to figure some things out,” I joked.

Dennis took a second to realize what I'd said… then he busted up laughing.

“In all seriousness, I'm a Tinker. I was told I'm a Tinker 10,” I announced.

Dead silence. Chris dropped his pen. Even Dennis cut off his laughing fit. I guess the info was shocking, or something?

Carlos crossed his arms. “You didn't mention that,” he scowled.

“Oops?” I sheepishly offered.

“What the hell can you build that made them give you a Tinker 10 rating?!” Chris bristled.

“My specialization is spaceships,” I revealed. "Carlos already knew that."

Every face except our team leader's paled. Even he was a little… put off base is probably the best term, shuffling back and forth on his red clad feet.

“Like…,” Dean spoke up, “Star Wars, Star Trek spaceships?” he asked hesitantly.

I shook my head. “No. My ships pretty much make those look like kid toys. They might not be as big as some of the ‘Wars ships, but they are so much more advanced the difference is akin to that between an Abacus and Dragon’s Tinkertech mainframes.”

Chris gulped. Carlos eyed me speculatively.

“Okay, well, even if you can build really powerful spaceships, they must cost a ton and take a lot of material, right?” Dennis asked, half smiling.

In response, I pulled one of my spare Shuttle models out of my pocket. “Nope.”

Missy blinked. “Is that Lego?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“You make Lego spaceships,” Chris drawled.

“Uh huh.”

“They gave you Tinker 10, for Legos,” he repeated.

To respond to that, I eyeballed the open space in the middle of the Wards room. It looked like enough area. “Watch and learn,” I grinned.I turned around, held the model over my shoulder, and tossed. I also nearly prayed, hoping this was the right way to trigger my bullshit powers.

It was.

FWOOMPH

“Holy shit!” Chris yelled.

Various screams of shock and alarm erupted from the other Wards as the wave of air slammed into us. Papers on the tables flew into the walls. Chairs shuddered, and Missy's hair blew out of shape.

Oh she was gonna be maaad when she finally looked in the mirror. She looked like she'd been in a hurricane.

“You weren't kidding,” Carlos breathed, staring at the huge gray shuttle sitting on the rug.

“Told ya,” I grinned, moving towards the ship. It'd spawned with the back end facing me, just like the one on my lawn had earlier that day. I located and hit the external button for the back hatch, noting the other button right below it that looked like a tilted cross made out of red Lego pieces.

My other shuttle was sitting in the PRT garage. I hadn't managed to find a way to make it return to Lego form, if that was even possible. If it was, I was even more bullshit than before, and it was possible that button was what did it. I must've missed the red X on my other craft.

I'd have to test that later.

The back door shifted down, touching down on the rug with a solid sounding thunk.

“Anyone wanna come in?” I asked. Not waiting for a reply, I strolled up the ramp, through the cargo compartment, and into the pilot cabin.

The clear crystalline dashboard caught my eye first, much like my other shuttle's had. It lent credence to my idea that all ships of a given class I created would be identical.

I sat in the pilot's chair, on the left, and sighed as the incredibly advanced gel padding conformed to my body.

“Oh that feels good,” I groaned. My eyes closed and I escaped into ergonomic bliss for a few moments.

The sound of short heels on the metal floor brought me out of it. “What feels good?” Missy spoke up.

I opened my eyes at her, grinning. “These chairs. They're super comfy. Feel free to grab one,” I offered.

She raised an eyebrow, but did as I suggested. She took the copilot's chair. She was positively groaning when she felt the gel kick in.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. The chairs were that good.

“Nice, right?” I asked her.

“Will, you're giving me one of these,” she declared.

“They come with the ship, Missy,” I apologized. “Otherwise I'd have put these in my house before we got here.”

“I was talking about the ship,” she corrected me.

I opened my mouth to protest, but jumped when an annoyance entered the cabin. “What's all the groaning about in here?” Dennis grinned. “Nobody's getting it on inside the ship are they?”

“Shut up and sit down, Dennis, before I make you just fit that comment,” Missy ordered, understandably rather annoyed.

I subtly edged away from the girl in the copilot’s chair. “Uh, Dennis,” I asked, then shook my head and sighed. “Nevermind. Missy, are you alright? I've never had anyone else sit in one of my chairs and they are tinkertech so...”

“I’m fine,” she responded, relaxing. “These are just really, really nice chairs. Other than being really comfy I don't feel anything off.”

Dennis directed a joking glance my way. I had the sinking feeling that he was about to do something stupid. I subtly shook my head to warn him off of it, but it was useless. This was the guy who’d named himself Clockblocker on live TV.

“Are you sure they’re not really nice chairs? I mean, you were groaning-” he started to ask.

Abruptly the girl sat up, blushing to her toes. “Not a word, ‘Clockblocker’,” she declared, “or you'll find your home suddenly Non-Euclidian.” Then she glared at me, almost physically daring me to join in with Dennis.

I gulped and raised my hands. “Hey, don’t look at me. This is all him.” I turned to look at the dashboard, ran out of resistance, and teasingly muttered, “Still… damn.”

Missy must've heard me, because her face went even redder. Dennis spared me from her wrath though. “So,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows, “Really good chairs, huh?”

Why was he still trying?!

Missy was mortified. “DENNIS!” she shrieked. Space warped, Missy's shoe suddenly planting deep in his groin.

I winced and instinctively curled in on myself. “Damn, Missy. You didn't have to do that.”

As Dennis lay whimpering on the floor, she shrugged. “He deserved it,” Missy replied.

“Uh huh.”

"...Why is Dennis on the floor?" Carlos asked, walking into the cockpit.

Missy and I looked at each other.

She raised a challenging eyebrow.

I sighed in defeat.

"He deserved it," we both repeated Missy's earlier words.

---

“Your powers are bullshit,” Chris remarked. He’d repeated that and only that whenever I tried to say anything to him since I'd summoned the shuttle. Dean informed me that it was his power that was jealous, not Chris himself, and given Dean's power set I was inclined to believe him. I'd give Chris the time he needed to soothe his power's rear end from the kicking mine gave it.

That by no means prevented me from teasing the ever living shit out of him by offering to let him take a look under the hood of the shuttle. The first time his face lit up like a kid at Christmas.

The next seven times earned me scowls after he realized the technology was complete gibberish to him.

Dennis and I tag teamed the poor guy. We'd hit it off well, even with Missy crushing his groin because of his jokes about my shuttle's chairs.

I mean, she didn't actually do any damage because she knows how to hold back and Dennis is a drama queen, but still.

Once we'd all had a chance to check out the inside of the ship I hustled everyone out and closed the back door from outside. After the hermetic vacuum sealing was finished, I hesitantly placed my hand on the red Lego X below the back door button.

A moment later, I had my Lego model of the shuttle sitting in my hand again.

CRACK

“OUCH!” I yelled. Damn it, that felt like thunder going off in front of me!

“CAN ANYONE ELSE HEAR THEMSELVES THINK?” Missy asked.

Carlos glared at me. “NO MORE DEPLOYING SHIPS INSIDE!” he declared.

I gulped, nodded, and put the ship away in my pocket. “LET'S GO TO THE ROOF! I NEED TO GET SOME AIR!”

“SOUNDS GOOD!” Dennis yelled.

That's when the alarms went off. Our ears started ringing, so we evacuated the Wards room.

We went to the roof.

Several PRT officers passed us, offering greetings. They also ran away when faced with six yelling Wards.

---

“Ahh,” I breathed in, “Non-thundered air.”

We were standing on top of the PRT building's roof. It was more like a patio than a proper roof, basically just another floor of the building with some railing around the outside to keep non fliers from falling off.

“Like the view?” Missy asked, walking up to lean on the rail beside me.

“Not bad,” I agreed. “Needs something, though.”

Missy quirked her lips, amused. “Oh? Like what?”

I eyed the Bay itself, calculating distance in my head. “The Bay's bigger than five by five kilometers, right?”

Missy had an instinctual sense of distance, something I'd learned came with her power on the walk up. “It's almost eight by ten,” she corrected me.

“We could totally plop a Cityship right in the middle, then.”

Missy's eyes widened. “You mentioned Cityships before. What are they?”

I grinned at her and sighed happily. “Imagine a giant metal snowflake, gleaming silver and reflecting light off thousands of skyscrapers, floating on the surface of the water,” I began describing. “The central tower dwarfs the others in height. Every other skyscraper is unique, somehow managing to also look themed. A Cityship can house over five million people in the residential towers, has space for hundreds of thousands of science labs, and the top of the central tower even contains a Gate.” I'm sure my eyes were twinkling after that.

Missy's eyes were wide with awe this time. “Wow. But that just sounds like a city from the future. Where does the -ship part come in?”

I grinned sideways at her. “It flies.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You're kidding me.”

“Serious like a heart attack,” I refuted.

“How? The power requirements must be enormous!”

I mimed holding a Potentia in both hands. “Crystalline power source. Contains an artificial region of subspace. Extracts power from that, but can't be recharged except by a station that sits inside a star. A Cityship can technically fly on one, but they're designed to run on three.”

Chris yelled at me from the other side of the roof. “Your power is bullshit!”

Was he ever going to stop?

Missy eyed me warily. “How much power does one of those contain?”

I screwed up my face for a moment. “Well,” I finally answered her, “rupturing one would take a good sized chunk out of the planet, even if it was only 1% charged, so use that for your answer. I don't think I can really express their total power capacity in human energy terms, it's just too much.”

Missy's face was white. Carlos spoke up from behind me. Apparently he'd been listening.

“You are not to construct one of those without authorization,” he almost growled at me.

I turned around and leaned back on the railing. “Which? The Cityship or the Potentia?”

He looked confused for a moment. “Is Potentia the name for that crystalline energy source you just talked about?”

“Yes.”

“That. Do not build that,” he declared.

I shrugged. “It’s fine. Cityships can be powered by anything from coal to lightning, it won't be too hard to find a replacement,” I reasoned. “But they won't be able to fly without a Potentia.”

“You can save the flying five kilometer square city for when you get clearance for these ‘Potentia’. Just keep it non flying for now. I'm sure it'll be difficult to resist, but you must resist the thrill of danger,” he semi joked.

I was just glad he wasn't upset with me.

I grinned at him. “Sure thing, Chief.” I even gave him a mock salute.

“Hey, Will?” Dean approached.

“Yeah?”

“What's a Gate? You said the central tower of a Cityship contains one,” he asked.

My eyes lit up. “Ah! Sorry, Gate is short for Stargate. Their proper name is Astria Porta.”

I was getting dumbfounded looks again. “What? Why do people keep looking at me like that?”

“What,” Carlos sighed, “is a Stargate?”

“Stable wormhole generator that allows near instantaneous travel between itself and another Stargate, no matter where in the galaxy they are,” I explained. “Uses about the power output of a decently advanced fusion reactor for each connection, unless you want to reach another galaxy. Generally you need a Potentia for that. It has a ridiculously impressive capacitor built in, so one could easily use lesser energy generators to just charge it up slower. Either way, they're designed to be plopped down on millions of planets, and they utilize a glyph system and seven glyph addresses, almost like telephone numbers, for locating the target Stargate. Eight glyphs for another local group galaxy, nine for special hardcoded addresses like Cityships or extragalactic distance research vessels have.”

Every Ward had come over to me as I spoke. Now they were standing around me and just staring. Their mouths were all gaping, no exceptions.

“What? Why is this so surprising to you guys?”

---

I was back in Director Piggot's office again. This time with all the Wards on the base present behind me.

They'd just finished giving a rather panicked rundown of what I'd ‘revealed’ on the roof. I honestly didn't understand why they were so concerned. Rupturing a Potentia was hard. It was so much easier to destroy a planet with a Naquadah fusion bomb than to destabilize the crystalline batteries.

Of course when I told them what Naquadah was and how it magnified explosions, that the Stargates contained vast quantities of the material, plus the multi-teraton yield of the bomb I'd mentioned, that was when they lost their cool and marched me down to the Director's office.

“Weldon,” Piggot asked testily, “why didn't you tell us any of this?” She gestured to the nervous Wards behind me.

I blinked and tried to sit up. “Uh, you never asked?” I ventured.

She scowled. “When a cape has the ability to create multi-teraton nuclear bombs out of thin air, it's incredibly important they notify us about that,” she seethed. “Ignoring the dangerous aspects of forgetting to do so, we have treaties in place about this kind of thing!”

I looked around at the gathered faces and swallowed. “Oh,” I sheepishly said. “Sorry.”

Piggot sighed, clasping her hands together above her desk. “Anything else Earth-shattering you'd like to share with us today about your abilities?”

Dennis and I both smirked, but her scowl tightened. "That pun was unintended. Focus. What else can you make that is dangerous as hell?"

I twisted my lips slightly as I thought, my head worlds away. I tried going over all the things I could build. Tried to see if anything registered as dangerous to me.

There were a few devices and sciences that came to mind. Galactic Scale Matter Manipulation, and the Wave Generators that emanated the effect, Stargate Destroyers, Singularity or Wormhole bombs, Supergates, even that one idiot Janus’ experiments with time travel, Hyperdrive/Subspace band blocking and the failed Arcturus project. A few people believed the experiment with sentient nano-mechanical life had also been dangerous and a failure, something I did not agree with, but those who thought like me had been outvoted, and so our children died.

Screaming.

I shuddered in remembrance. They did not deserve what the Council had decreed.

Regardless, all of those could be, if not handled, at least contained by my civilization. We hadn't lasted hundreds of millions of years after all for no-

Wait.

My eyes widened to their maximum. “Ooohhhh, I see it now,” I mumbled.

I wasn't an Alteran. I hadn’t spoken up against the destruction of the Asurans. I didn’t answer to a Council. I never lived on Atlantis.

I was human. And so was my civilization. But apparently I happened to have memories of an Alteran in my brain.

Now I could see why my teammates had been freaking out. Okay, look at it from a human point of view, seal up the Alteran memories and psyche for later review.

How much was dangerous?

…

Oh.

…

That's… that's a lot of stuff.

“See what?” Armsmaster demanded, snapping me out of my headspace.

“Okay, so,” I began, glad I'd finally fixed the little (huge, not going to tell them that though) problem I'd just found. “I apparently have a different Tinker specialization than we thought.”

Everyone raised their eyebrows. “Explain,” Piggot said.

“It's not just ships. I have the ability to build anything a certain civilization made, at any point in their several hundred million year history,” I admitted.

“You've gotta be kidding me,” Chris complained. “First spaceships, now you can access an entire civilization? Goddamnit, Will.”

“What kinds of items did this civilization manage to create?” Armsmaster asked.

“And do any others violate treaties?” Piggot added.

“Uh, way too many to list, Armsmaster,” I answered him first, “and for the Director, uh… Like, sixty percent of it. Probably. I don't know treaties that well, so I'm probably overestimating it.”

Piggot ground her teeth. “Give me an example,” she demanded.

“Alright. Uh… off the top of my head, all ‘modern’ Alteran craft, that's the name of their civilization by the way,” I trailed off slightly, “are armed with Drones. These are golden squid like objects about… yea big,” I held out my hands to indicate something twice the size of a football, “that are essentially incredibly smart, hunter killer missiles. They have their own drive units, work in space, and phase through shielding and hull until they can detonate in crucial components of an enemy ship with the force of a small nuke. Their passage actually emits a crapton of heat, so they can be sent through ships for multiple passes until they run low on energy, then explode,” I explained.

Piggot was pale. “That certainly violates a few treaties,” she grumbled, “though they sound like a fantastic weapon.”

Carlos spoke up. “Wait, you said all Alteran craft?” he asked.

“Yeah?” I sent back, curious as to why he was asking. “At least the modern ones.”

“Including the ‘shuttles’ you can make? One of which is currently parked in the PRT building, one of which you deployed in the Wards common room?!” His voice was steadily raising.

“Well, yeah. Pretty sure each shuttle is loaded out with thirty in each magazine for a total of sixty,” I confirmed.

Chris stared at me. Armsmaster stared at me. Piggot glared at me. Carlos looked defeated. He even made this catlike mewling sound.

“Are you telling me that you have sixty nuclear level, intelligent, guided, and countermeasure defeating weapons sitting in our parking garage, and the ability to summon more from your pocket?!” Director Piggot shrieked.

I shrugged. “I guess so.”

Dennis, Dean and Missy were basically catatonic at that point.

Several seconds went by without anyone saying anything. The continual focus on me and my powers was starting to actually get to me. I began to curl in on myself, stopping only once I realized it wasn’t my fault.

“We’re going to need to revisit your power ratings,” Piggot bit out, finally.

I winced and continued with one of the things I thought might also infringe upon some kind of treaty. There must be an anti-teleportation one, surely? “It's probably worth mentioning that every ship I can make above the shuttles, including Cityships, have beaming arrays borrowed from an Alteran ally race built in,” I hesitantly mentioned.

Armsmaster sighed. “And what are beaming arrays?” he sounded like he'd rather just forget I even existed.

I fidgeted and lowered my head. “Uh… planetwide range, from geosynchronous orbit, connectionless, nearly unblockable matter transporters?” I half asked, half told.

Piggot's head hit the desk.

“Goddamnit, Will,” Carlos said.

Missy started sobbing. Gallant was holding her, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

Chris glared at me. “I hate you. You know that, right?”

I grimaced. “Sorry?”

---

Tinker 20+.

Blaster 10.

Mover 10+.

Breaker/Striker 7.

Those were my new ratings.

I had no idea that my stuff was considered that powerful by PRT standards.

They'd flat out told me that they added 10 levels to the Power Scales just for my Tinker rating. And then realized it wasn't enough. Thus, Tinker 20+.

I hadn't even told them about personal shields, nanites, constructors, or the computers themselves.

Or the devices which even the Alterans thought dangerous.

Shit, they'd probably just slap 20 all across the board if they found out about those.

To tell or not to tell. That is the quest-

No, wait. Do I want my friends, the Wards, safe?

That is the question.

“Hey Carlos?” I spoke up from my spot on the couch.

The team leader froze in the middle of taking a step. He took a deep breath, visibly tried to relax, and then spun to face me. “Yes Will,” he asked.

“How would you, the Wards, and the PRT feel about impenetrable energy shields that are emitted from a cell phone sized amulet thing that sticks to whatever you're wearing via the Coulomb effect?”

Carlos sighed a long suffering sigh. “You can make those?” he asked respectfully.

“Yeah. Just need a few standard Lego pieces for each one,” I confirmed.

“And what about maintenance?” he asked. “That's the primary problem with Tinkertech, only the Tinker can keep it from breaking down.”

I blinked, surprised. “Maintenance?” I asked. I kept mouthing the word to myself.

My Tinker specialization didn't know the meaning of the word. Literally.

Seeing my confusion, Carlos sighed and growled at the same time. “Let me guess. Your stuff doesn't need maintenance,” he deadpanned.

“Alteran stuff lasts for millions of years without any kind of wear, tear, or charge loss,” I confirmed.

“Of course it does.” He just walked over to a couch and collapsed into it. “Nope. We'll deal with your crazy extinct alien civilization bullshit tomorrow. I'm done.”

“But-” I tried to speak up.

“I'm done! Go home! Take your unholy bullshit with you!”

I went.

I walked into the PRT garage, opened my shuttle, went inside, closed it, fired up the gravitational inertia engines, and slowly inched the craft out of the garage.

Once I was in the open air I accelerated, not feeling a single thing as I did. Even the high velocity air tricks I did up above Brockton Bay didn't affect me.

I did eventually actually go home. Landed on the lawn, walked out of my shuttle, closed the door, touched the red Lego X that I had confirmed was also on this craft, collected the Lego model, and went into the house to greet my family and go to bed.

After all, it'd been a long day. And I became a superhero, even if I was kinda driving the PRT insane with my capabilities.

Ah well, they'd get used to me.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 02
Tests​

Captain's Log, Earth Date: February 7th, 2011

Day two of being a superhero. It's much more boring than I thought it would be. I mean, you're always hearing on the news about the Protectorate heroes’ latest adventures, or captures and whatnot, usually with support from at least one of the Wards.

Speaking as a Ward, that's apparently… not quite reality.

My meetings with Glenn Chambers, a PR specialist they flew in from New York, and the PRT PR department have painted the true picture.

A superhero doesn't spend most of their time battling the forces of evil in the form of a Villain or teams of minions.

No. We fight the everlasting war against the great demon Paperwork, who draws power from every crossed t, dotted i, and paper cut.

Seriously, I thought I was done after filling out the application for the Wards. But nooo, I had to learn how to fill out AARs, after action reports, in triplicate.

Those things are ten pages long. And that’s just the first kind of form I needed to learn.

The less said about the absolute disaster that was the PR department’s attempts at naming my superhero identity, thinking up a costume, and trying to shove public etiquette lessons down my throat, the better.

Round two is scheduled for Saturday, the 12th of February, 2011. I've gotta say, I'm rather looking forward to it.

Of course, this time I'll be a level 20 rated Tinker. I will be the decision maker, not Glenn frakking Chambers.

I mean, seriously? Tie-dye paint jobs and The Shipper as a name? I'm not a tween girl who reads crappy fanfiction about sparkly vampires.

You have no idea how relieved us PHO forum goers were when we found out that book series is hated on Aleph too.

Anyways, school was nice. Got to indulge my scientific and linguistic know-how that came with my powers in an academic setting for the first time ever. The work was so offensively and pathetically easy I had to actually answer a couple wrong so I didn't jump from Bs and Cs to perfection in a day.

That is one of the guidelines in the Newbie Cape's Handbook On How To Out Yourself In Three Easy Steps, after all.

Anyways, that's it for today. I'm on my way to the PRT building at the moment, so I'm signing off. Got hero stuff to focus on!

End Log.

---

I relaxed back into the pilot's seat of my shuttle. As the gel conformed to my body shape I sighed, smiling. A quick thought and the shuttle sent my new Log off to my home computer system for storage and transcription.

My life was going great. I'd become a superhero yesterday, finally let the reigns on my education-specific knowledge loose, leading to a massive boost to the grades I received, and was currently on my way to the PRT for my ‘after-school elective’ as Arcadia called it.

In my invisible, undetectable, gravity defying, space capable, nuclear-equivalent weapon equipped shuttlecraft, flying a decent distance above the skyline.

I glanced at the speedometer, or at least what passed for one, to double check the ship was following my instructions. Mentally directed and incredibly smart the shuttle systems may be, but they were no AI. It was prudent to make sure the craft was working correctly. It would do no good to go above the speed of sound; destroying the windows of Brockton Bay’s skyscrapers would not be a smart beginning to my hero career.

A small part of my mind needled me about the fact that no Alteran would ever think about any of that, much less do so. With my human mentality back in full force I was becoming quite cynical about the race whose technology I'd essentially inherited. As much as I wished otherwise, that part of me was right.

The Alterans, intelligent and powerful as they were, simply did not have common sense. It would shock me if they had a term for that in their language.

…

Of course not. Common Sense, Maintenance, what other concepts would I learn the Alterans didn't comprehend?

…

-I cut my power’s linguistics section off before it could answer that. I really didn't want to know.

Being on the other side of the nearly nonexistent PR wall of Parahumans was quite the experience. I'd always thought it strange that so many kids had after school electives. Much like my classmates, I'd also wondered why, when a new student transferred in, so did at least two others that looked just like them. A lot of people believed that it was to confuse theorists like I used to be, or Thinkers, from figuring out who the Wards were.

I now knew that rumor to be completely accurate. Thankfully I didn't need to worry about doppelgangers of me running around, as I had already been enrolled in Arcadia for two years.

School had been absolutely amazing now that I knew who was really a Ward.

I still hung out with my friends, of course, and we were all a bunch of cape geeks. The speculation didn't stop because I suddenly became a Ward. Nor should it have, as they didn't know that there was a new one, much less that they were me.

I was laughing internally every time they formed theories on who they, we, might be. That morning in the shower I'd had the terrifying thought that I might have to run interference to prevent my friends from hitting the truth like a miner who struck gold.

I needn't have worried.

Amazingly, nobody even came close. And that's saying something, because Dean and Victoria ‘Vicky’ Dallon didn't tone down their PDA at all.

Seriously, it was freaking public knowledge Glory Girl and Gallant were dating. How Dean wasn’t unmasked for the world still escaped me.

---

When I arrived in the PRT parking garage I had a greeting party waiting for me.

The moment the shuttle touched down and decloaked, Armsmaster banged on the hull.

I lowered the rear ramp, exited, closed the ramp, and before Armsmaster could walk around the shuttle, hit the red X.

A moment later and with a crack of thunder, the Lego model was in my hand.

“Sup, Armsmaster?” I greeted him cheerily. I was in a really good mood.

“Will,” Armsmaster growled.

I stopped walking towards him. Was something up? “What's wrong?”

“What's wrong is that you took an untested piece of nuclear armed Tinkertech for a joyride above the city last night!” he yelled. “And then, you used it to get to Arcadia, left it lying around all day ready for absolutely anyone to find and steal, then flew it directly here after leaving the school for an ‘after school elective’, something which some people think is a cover story for the Wards! Which it is!”

I opened my mouth to respond, found nothing, closed it again, then went with the less obvious question. “I wasn't supposed to take it to school?”

I could see him visibly taking a chill pill. “No,” he seethed. “It was going to be moved to a lab where we were to study it.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Oh,” I said intelligently.

“We are going to that lab. You are going to deploy this ‘shuttle’. And then the Director, Aegis, and I will be going over the rule books with you,” he declared.

I sighed, preparing for a boring day. “Lead on, party pooper.”

The sound of him grinding his teeth was music to my ears. I could even vaguely hear laughter coming from his helmet.

He must've been in a call with someone. Rude.

---

Halfway to the PRT testing lab I was intercepted by a tiny, female, green costumed missile which decided I was the perfect target for lamprey behavior.

“Oof!” I grunted, bracing myself against the hallway wall.

“Thank you,” a young girl's voice squeaked from inside my jacket.

I glanced down to see a head of blonde hair emerge from the confines of my upper body coverings. “Hi, Missy,” I greeted her with a smile. “Not that I'm complaining about getting hugs from a cute girl or anything, but why are you hugging me?”

She squeaked and bounced away from me, cheeks flushing red. “H-hey,” she stammered, “it's not like that!”

I crossed my arms and smirked. “Oh so you just spontaneously hug everybody then?” I countered teasingly.

Missy stamped her foot and tried to frown, but she was still too young to look anything but cute no matter what she did. “No!” she shot back indignantly, “I get to use my powers to help test yours today!” Her grin tried to turn feral, a manic look in her eyes at the clear belief she was getting back at me.

I brought one hand to my chin and started rubbing, leaving the elbow cupped by my other hand. “Hmmm…,” I mused.

Her face fell. “What?”

I abruptly snapped my fingers with an ‘oh snap’ gesture. “Nope, even your menacing is cute.”

Missy's eyes flared. “I'm not cute!” she refuted, smacking the back of my head through time and space.

Me being built like a brick shithouse, this of course did absolutely nothing.

“You totally are,” I shot back, grinning mercilessly.

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Not!”

“Are!”

“NOT!”

“ARE!”

“CHILDREN!” Armsmaster bellowed, apparently having arrived at the argument after his inattention lost track of whether I was still following him or not.

I turned a disbelieving eyebrow on him. Missy scowled.

I heard the woman who was apparently still connected to his helmet say something.

Armsmaster growled. He obviously attempted to reign in his temper and apologize. It was hilarious. Equally obvious was how much he hated it. “Sorry, Wards. Will you please stop your petty squab-” another burst of female speech, “-disagreement, that is, so we can get to testing?”

I grinned at his discomfort and merely nodded.

Missy snapped to something resembling attention. “Yes Sir!”

“Thank you,” Armsmaster bit out through mashed teeth.

I winced externally, but internally I was laughing my head off. This day was going to be a nightmare for Grumpy McStickInTheMud. Serves him right for making me read a rulebook of all things at some nebulous point in the future.

Yeah, it's petty. Shut up.

He turned around on the spot and resumed his walk towards the elevators, not bothering to ensure we were following him. I spun around, gave Missy a sarcastic flaunt of a salute, and jogged to keep up with his long strides.

Missy just scowled, warped space to be next to me, and smacked me on the head.

I shoved her shoulder.

She kicked my shin.

I whacked her thigh.

This silent match of Rock’Em Sock’Em Wards continued until Armsmaster turned around to make sure we went into the elevator. We barely had enough time to bring our hands back to our sides and plaster innocent, angelic smiles on our faces.

I rated Missy's an A+. Mine barely mustered a passing grade.

I could feel Armsmaster's narrow eyed glare on my back the whole ride down. It was accompanied by an orchestra of synchronized giggles coming from his helmet, muffled, and the little girl next to me in stereo.

Stupid cheating little girls with overwhelming cuteness and adorable features. Damn you, Missy, damn your cute face to hellllll!

---

“Weldon!” was the exuberant, expectant cry I was greeted with when the lab door opened.

My eyes shot wide open and I began engaging in a tactical withdrawal. Coming at me was a nerd with glasses, a white lab coat, and an actual pocket protector.

“I'm too young to become a scientist!” I cried out loud, trying not to trip as I walked backwards.

Missy giggled, which was always good in my books. Operation: Get Missy to Embrace her Cute Side was on schedule.

No I didn't just make that up.

…

You have no proof, extrauniversal entity in my head!

“Weldon,” Armsmaster stated flatly, his voice booming.

I gulped and turned around. I'd instinctively stopped my backward walk just in time to avoid ramming my head on the guy's armor.

“Yeees, Armsy?” I asked lightly.

Missy and the entire testing team snickered. I felt the heat of Armsmaster's glare as if it was a physical thing.

If looks could kill, my seat in the Underworld would have been assured.

Knowing me though, that seat would probably be the throne.

“We are here to test your abilities,” he flatly declared. “Deploy your shuttle in the marked area and assist the testing team with anything they might need.” He leaned in close, the semi transparent part of his helmet almost touching my nose. “Do you understand?”

I gulped and nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Good,” he seethed. He straightened back up and addressed the scientist I'd mentally labeled Nerd Alert. “You are clear to test anything with him that does not violate treaties the United States is required to uphold. Director Piggot has also banned anything that might pose a threat to any portion of the planet's crust above 0.00015%. Is that clear?”

Various kinds of disgruntled agreement arose from the team.

“I have other matters to attend to. After he is done, please send him to the Wards’ Common Room.” With that and without so much as another glance at me, he strode out of the lab.

If I didn't know better I'd say the doors slammed closed behind him, but they had an automatic pressure system straight out of Star Trek. I highly doubted that could be changed on the fly just because Armsmaster wanted to be a drama queen.

Not because any Tinker who made them wasn't that petty, but because Director Piggot wouldn't allow it.

---

I spun back around and clapped my hands, abruptly rubbing them with anticipation. I hammed up the manic smile on my face to the maximum level I could sustain without throwing up.

There is only so much cliché I can take, you know.

Then I laughed. “Mua ha ha ha! Much fun will be had todaaay!”

Missy scoffed and whacked me on the head again.

“Hey!”

“No manic laughter in the testing chamber,” she scolded me.

“Oh come on!”

“It’s a rule,” a scientist spoke up.

That brought me up short. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “Yeah. These two idiots,” she thumbed over her shoulder to indicate Nerd Alert and the third scientist, someone I could only nickname Captain Neckbeard, “kept doing it when testing the powers of prospective Protectorate or Ward capes. It scared them.”

“Hey! It's not our fault!” the two refuted.

“Yes it is,” Missy agreed with the only other girl in the room.

“It is entirely your faults,” a third woman's voice said.

Okay, not the only other gal in the room. I spun around looking for the third one. “Either I'm hearing things or something screwy is going on,” I announced.

A screen on a robotic arm extended from the wall to face me. The static on the monitor cleared and I was looking at the image of a woman.

The image was clearly digitally generated, and kind of average all around, but it was impressive nonetheless.

Then it, she, spoke again.

“Hello Weldon,” she said with a slight grin, “I'm Dragon.”

I immediately connected her with the voice that had been in Armsmaster's helmet. And, of course, with the most famous Tinker in the world besides the late Hero.

Dragon was talking to me.

Dragon wIas going to test me.

Dragon was projecting herself into the same room as me.

I may have squeed a bit.

“Dragon!” I squeaked, trying and failing to pave over my voice cracking. “Uh, hi! Why are you here?”

I immediately facepalmed. Meet the most famous living Tinker in the world and what do I do? I ask her why she was present in the power tests of another overpowered Tinker.

I was batting well below my average today.

She must have seen my realization and taken pity on me. The other four people in the lab sure didn't, they just snickered endlessly. “I'm providing remote assistance and advice for your power tests, Weldon,” she explained, smiling at me. “And laughing at your impressively effective efforts to irritate Armsmaster, but that's just a side benefit.”

Missy's jaw dropped. “Wait, you were doing all that on purpose?!”

I grinned.

“God damn,” Captain Neckbeard said. “You and Clockblocker must get along swell.”

Missy groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “You have no idea,” she complained.

“I believe the most accurate phrase to describe their collaboration would be ‘like a house on fire’,” Dragon commented.

I crossed my arms and scowled. “Screw both of you! You're just jealous you can't pull spaceships out of your pockets!”

More snickering rang through the room. My face fell. “Whaaat?”

Nerd Alert grinned at me. “Is that a battlecruiser in your pocket or are you just happy to see Leslie?” he asked, sniggering.

I sighed. “I knew the joke I told Assault in front of Piggot and Armsmaster was gonna come back to me at some point,” I complained, “I just didn't expect it to be this soon. By the way, who's Leslie?”

The female scientist raised her hand. “Leslie Davis, Power Testing Director,” she introduced herself.

I grinned at her. “Well, nice to meet you. And yes, I do have a battlecruiser in my pocket. It's just a battlecruiser."

Leslie rolled her eyes and sighed. "Boys," she muttered. “Anyways, shall we begin testing? Or do you need further preparation?"

I rubbed my hands together and opened my mouth to start cackling.

My head was whacked from behind. “No manic laughter!”

“Stop whacking me!”

---

“Alright, first things first, let's get your… shuttle deployed,” Leslie announced.

I pulled the model out of my pocket and rolled it around in my fingers. “Where do you want it?”

“If you could please place it in the blue lines?” Dragon asked.

I looked around for the destination. Sure enough there was a section of the pretty much unbroken concrete floor pattern outlined with softly glowing blue highlights. It was surrounded by all kinds of equipment, some on carts, some big enough to have its own wheels, and even a couple mounted to robotic arms that extended from the ceiling.

I walked over and eyed the space critically. “Is all this equipment wind resistant?” I asked.

“Why?” Captain Neckbeard asked.

“Because when I summon things, they seem to displace the air of their volume near instantly,” I explained.

The testing team quietly conferred among themselves for a few moments. Dragon's robotic arm monitor joined their little huddle shortly after it began.

Almost as one they turned back to look at me with an answer. It was creepy how synchronized they were.

I was under no illusion that the creepy factor wasn't intentional.

“All the equipment should be fine,” Dragon informed me.

"It's rated for much more abuse than a windstorm," Leslie elaborated.

I shrugged. “Aight. Don't blame me if you're wrong,” I acquiesced. I walked to the middle of the short side of the rectangle on the floor nearest me. I had to make sure I was positioned juuuust right or it wouldn't be in the blue lines.

With a last look of contemplation, I tossed the shuttle model over my shoulder.

FWOOMPH

Everyone but Dragon flinched, their hair being blown back. Missy, Neckbeard, and Leslie's hair, all of them wearing it down and long, didn't survive the blast wave without remodeling. Even I flinched, still not quite used to the sound my manifestation power created as it treated the atmosphere like a punching bag.

Missy scowled. “I forgot it would mess up my hair,” she grumbled.

Leslie blinked several times, patted down her hair, and stared at the shuttle. Well, from my perspective she was staring behind me, but I knew the shuttle was what she was looking at.

Captain Neckbeard… just kinda shrugged, pushed his hair behind his ears, and returned to what I swear was watching the testing screens in awe.

“Sweet, huh?” I grinned.

“Cool guys don't look at explosions…” Captain Neckbeard started humming, still not tearing his gaze away.

“Thank you!” I exclaimed. “Someone finally referenced that!”

Dragon was staring at me, not the shuttle. She was visibly dumbfounded. Such a look was pretty interesting on a 3D character, let me tell you.

“T-That's not possible,” she stammered.

I raised an eyebrow her way. “What's not possible?”

Dragon’s 3D avatar gulped. That surprised me. Why would you code such a thing into a remote interaction program? Something smelled fishy about that, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was, exactly.

“Weldon, all the equipment around you is sensor and reconnaissance equipment. From what they're telling me, that shuttle didn't show up instantly,” she started explaining. “Somehow your power drew atoms from nothing, enough to synthesize the shuttle from scratch, in a shorter timespan than the human eye can see.”

I raised both eyebrows. That wasn't possible, but not for the reasons Dragon thought. “I'm sorry, what? You're telling me this craft,” I banged my hand against the rear hatch to both to provide emphasis and prove to myself that it was real, “was assembled out of nothing?”

Dragon shivered. “Yes.”

“But that's impossible!” I refuted.

Leslie managed to get a grip on herself at that moment. “You're telling me. Making matter out of nothing isn't possible. Even Changers draw it from somewhere else-”

I held up a hand, interrupting her. “Oh no, that's not the impossible thing. The beaming arrays on my ships can do that with enough energy. It's the fact that this shuttle is made out of a high amount of Naquadah that's bullshit. You flat out cannot convert energy to Naquadah. It just can't be done.”

“What,” Dragon stated.

“Naquadah is essentially impossible to synthesize,” I continued explaining. “It's too dense for any kind of matter assembly system to create.”

Leslie, Nerd Alert, Missy, and Dragon all kept staring at me, dumbfounded.

I sighed. “I know that look. What did I say now?”

“You… you have access to technology capable of assembling matter from nothing but energy,” Dragon carefully asked.

I tilted my head back and forth, waving my hands in a ‘so-so’ manner. “Yes and no. The shuttles don't have beaming arrays. I'd need to create a battlecruiser at the least to get the arrays. But they are capable of synthesizing any element or combination thereof up to the 131st element of the Periodic Organization.” Realizing what I said, I corrected myself. “Sorry, I mean Periodic Table.”

More stares.

“There are only 118 elements in the Periodic Table, Weldon,” Dragon said.

I blinked. “Uh, what? Naquadah is number 145,” I refuted.

Leslie and Dragon leaned in, suddenly looking very interested. Well, the latter woman moved her monitor forward a bit, but it accomplished the same effect.

Namely making my hair stand on end.

“You know more than 118 elements?” Leslie excitedly asked me.

I sighed. “Yes. Off the top of my head, Trinium is 128, Neutronium is 140, Naquadah as I've already said is 145 and its much more volatile cousin, Naquadriah, sits one up the table at 146. There's a total of 160 elements known. The Alterans theorized that it could go up to 210, but that was never proven. Beyond that is degenerate matter which doesn't belong on the table due to a lack of protons or neutrons.”

The looks of glee everyone except Missy in that room were wearing told me I wouldn't be getting out of there anytime soon.

---

“Kid Win is right,” Missy said. “Your powers are bullshit.”

Dragon recovered from our impromptu ‘make-Will-say-ALL-the-elements’ session the quickest. “As fascinating as learning of over fourty new elements is, and as much as I hate to rush through our tests, I recommend immediately building one of these 'battlecruisers' as you call them. That way you can synthesize some samples of the new elements. Or at least the ones your beaming technology is capable of creating."

I blinked at her. "You do know this ship is massive, right?" I asked, gesturing to my pocket. "Like, way, way, way bigger than a shuttle?"

Dragon nodded at me. "That's actually why I requested Vista's presence. Creating the ship, that is, I certainly wasn't expecting to do actual, non-Tinker science today. She can extend this room far enough for the ship to materialize. We have plenty of Lego pieces by the wall in bins over by the entry door-”

I cut her off by removing a model from the same pocket I'd indicated that was half the length of my arm. “I actually already have the model finished, not just with me. It's apparently fully operational. I figured it would be a good idea to have a battlecruiser I could deploy at any moment. You know, just in case some villain tried to kidnap me,” I sheepishly admitted.

Leslie sighed. “Of course you do. I think I’m starting to understand why your team leader refused to be here. I’m already getting a headache.”

“We're not!” Nerd Alert and Captain Neckbeard piped up. They were over by a few tables with tons of scientific-looking machines, and at least five different computers. Nerd Alert seemed to be going over the results of my shuttle summoning in detail, while Captain Neckbeard was furiously writing notes on a tablet.

Missy shook her head. “Will, I don't know of any villain that's insane enough to try and kidnap someone who can pull spaceships out of their pockets.”

I smirked at her conspiratorially, wiggling my eyebrows. “Just because you don't know about them doesn't mean they don't exist. Who knows, there might be a huge shadow organization running the world from the shadows,” I narrated with a spooky voice.

...

Huh.

For a second there I could have sworn I heard someone inhale quickly. Oh well.

Missy crossed her arms. “A shadow organization from the shadows?” she scoffed. “Really?”

I shrugged. “Hey, I calls em like I sees em.”

Dragon coughed lightly to get our attention. I immediately turned to look at her robotic monitor and grinned. “Yes, Dragon?”

She sighed. “As interesting as that idea is, we have a spaceship to spawn,” she gently reminded me.

My eyes brightened and I actually smiled. “Right! Vista, could I please get a…” I trailed off as I tried to find the dimensions of the Aurora Class Battlecruiser in my head. Instead the answer seemed to come to me from the Lego model in my hands. “Uh, three by half a kilometer space?”

Missy scowled. “That'll tax my powers a lot, Will,” she declared.

I shrugged. “I'm sorry, I can't help it. The battlecruiser is just that big, according to my powers. And that space is leaving less than an inch on each side as room for error.”

She sighed. “Alright, alright. I'll try.”

She turned to face one of the walls of the testing lab, holding both hands spread in the air as if bracing against a wall. She breathed in, breathed out, and suddenly I could sense something absolutely immense pushing on the fabric of reality.

I didn't get a chance to contemplate how it was possible for me to sense such a thing, given how I was staring dumbstruck as the wall flew away from us. It expanded on each side too, but not nearly as much.

In less than five seconds, a cavern of spacetime dickery existed where a simple concrete wall was before.

“Daaamn,” I whistled. “Color me impressed.”

Missy stumbled, but caught herself before I could finish racing over. She leaned over slightly, hands on her knees, and breathed hard.

“Are you okay, M- I mean, Vista?” I asked, only barely catching myself and using her hero name in the presence of non-Wards.

She glared at me for my near slip, but nodded. “I've just gotta catch my breath,” she explained.

I shrugged. “If you're sure,” I warily said, hesitating to leave her.

She just waved me off and focused on her breathing.

“Whenever you're ready, Weldon,” Dragon said.

I casually strolled over to the midpoint of where the wall used to be, cradling my battlecruiser model in my arms. Lego gets surprisingly heavy when the models reach a certain size. “I'm in position,” I announced. Suddenly an idea occurred to me, and I figured it was better to ask than get in trouble later.

“Dragon? Leslie?” I called out.

“Yes, Weldon?” Dragon respectfully asked.

“We have permission from Piggot to do this, right?”

Leslie, Dragon, Nerd Alert and Captain Neckbeard all looked at each other.

Each of them, one by one, shook their heads in a 'don't look at me' sort of way.

Once all of them had shown they hadn't mentioned it to the Director, Dragon sighed. “I'll call her,” she lamented.

The sound of a phone ringing took over her speaker output for a couple of seconds. Someone picked up, and I heard a groan as the person on the other end learned who was calling.

“Yes, Dragon?” Piggot began, her tone touchy as hell. “What has he done now? It's only been two hours.”

Missy giggled in between her deep breaths, the science team joining her with snickering. The two guys only started chuckling when I flipped them off.

Dragon sent me a tight smile and answered the Director. “So far we've discovered his beaming technology can apparently synthesize matter from energy, that it can do that up to the 131st element of the Periodic Table, that there are actually 160 elements in said table, and that the one just above Naquadah is a form of it several hundred times more reactive and powerful than its predecessor he calls Naquadriah.”

Piggot sucked in a breath. “Did you say 160 elements?”

“That is correct, Director.”

“131 of which he can materialize out of thin air?”

“His beaming technology supposedly is capable of doing so, yes.”

Piggot inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Great. Another thing I'll have to brief the Chief Director and the President on.”

I wisely kept my mouth shut. As fun as antagonising Piggot was, it must be really serious if those two were demanding briefings from her.

“At least he can't create Naquadah or this Naquadriah, Director,” Leslie spoke up.

“Yes, what a small mercy that is. Is there anything else, Dragon, or did you just call to report?” the Director finally asked.

I didn't have the heart to correct their assumptions. Dragon frankly should have realized the implications of my Tinker power’s database crossed with the second power, the one that caused things to become real. Hell, for all I knew she did and was covering for me to keep me from being sent to the Birdcage.

After all, I needed exactly three standard Lego bricks to apparently materialize a Naquadriah bomb capable of wiping out five sixths of the solar system.

My Alteran self was keeping up a constant cry of ‘Bullshit!’ in the back of my head. My materialization power was world breaking.

Literally.

And that's saying something, because the Alterans had some pretty insane shit. For it to seem off to my memories from one of them? Yeah… big, bad, explosive.

On another note, eat your heart out, String Theory. Your moon destroyer has nothing on me.

Frak, now that I thought of it, Galactic Matter Manipulation Wave Generators could wipe out the entire galaxy.

I shuddered. I hoped I'd never need to build anything like that, for any reason. But much like Einstein before me, I knew I'd eventually have to put my foot down with a massive explosion of some kind. There were too many monsters in the world to believe otherwise, and that was just on Earth.

“We were going to go ahead and have Weldon spawn his battlecruiser for us. Originally I just wanted to compare the two, but with the revelation of the beaming technology's matter assembly abilities I would like to have him create samples of every new element he can. Vista has already provided an expanded space big enough for the ship.”

Piggot mused on that for a few moments. “Very well. You have a go. But do not bring any weapons online. I'm not dumb enough to think something with the word battle in the name is weaponless. If it's a proper analogue to the Navy's battlecruiser, the ship will have a lot of them.”

“Very well Director, we will leave all offensive systems we can offline,” Dragon agreed. "Right, Weldon?"

"Right!" I happily agreed, tossing her a thumbs up. I had no idea how to actually do that, but hey it's not like they could tell whether the guns were online without them firing and I had absolutely no plans to do that anytime soon.

“Good luck, you'll need it,” she shot back. Then she hung up.

Dragon focused on me again and smiled grimly. “You can go ahead and spawn it, Weldon, but please try and follow the Director's requests,” she pleaded.

Dang it, she asked. Nicely, too. I couldn't shut them off prematurely, but the Throne probably could do it. So, I shrugged. “We're underground. It'll be deploying in an incredibly tight space. Even if the weapons do come online, the shields won't, and we can get to the bridge fairly quickly to turn them off.”

"Very well," Dragon acquiesced. "We have a go from my end."

“Sounds good,” Leslie agreed.

“Sensors are monitoring,” Nerd Alert announced.

“Hit it!” Captain Neckbeard said.

I nodded. “Spawning now,” I reported. I lifted the ship model up with one of my hands, aimed, and heaved it over my shoulder as hard as I could.

I spun around just in time to see it fall into the black abyss that was the unlit cavern Missy had created.

Seconds passed.

Nothing further happened.

“Uh,” Captain Neckbeard asked, “so... where is it?”

Suddenly an almighty boom rocked through the building.

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

The earth shook, the PRT building along with it. Missy fell to the ground with a scream. Dragon’s monitor cracked. The science team only stayed standing due to clinging to their desks, and I held onto the rattling wall of the lab for dear life so I wouldn't fall into the cavern.

Five seconds passed, the quake and the boom still continued.

-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

Ten seconds, the shaking began to taper off.

-OOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM-

Fifteen... and the boom finally stopped.

-MMMMMPPPPPH

Silence, stillness, for the first time in what felt like forever. My head was ringing something fierce. From the groans and complaints of the others, they weren't doing so hot either.

“What the hell was that?” Leslie demanded.

“I don't know,” came Dragon's voice, distorted. The speakers of her monitor assembly must have been damaged.

“Uh, guys? Where's the ship?” Nerd Alert asked, staring along with me at the decidedly still empty cavern.

I opened my mouth to respond.

And that's when the lighting turned red, an alarm began to chime, and the wail of the Endbringer Sirens erupted across the city.

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 03
Reactions

■​

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■​

♦ Topic: (Locked) Power Ratings Now Go Up To 20
In: Boards ► Places ► North America ► United States ► Brockton Bay
Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Posted On Feb 6th 2011:
Some of my contacts in the PRT have mentioned that they might be increasing the scale of Parahuman power levels by 10 soon. This is not unprecedented, Labyrinth of Faultline's Crew is a Shaker 12, but it worries me.

What could have possibly made them officially add 10 levels to the Power Scales? They've held off on doing so their entire history. Not even Labyrinth, again someone confirmed to be officially rated Shaker 12, got them to do it.

Is it a new Parahuman? I don't know. For once, I don't have any idea. The PRT is being super hush-hush about everything involved in this.

What do you all think?

(Showing page 3 of 3)

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)​

Replied On Feb 6th 2011:​

This is so not good. If they're raising the scales to 20, it's because they met a Cape that matches that level. I can't think of any Power Rating I'd want someone to have 20 of. Not even Brute. That's more than Alexandria.​

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►Valkyr (Wiki Warrior)​

Replied On Feb 6th 2011:​

Thanks for the heads up, Bagrat. I'll wait for the official announcement to update the Wiki though. No offense.​

​

►Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@Valkyr none taken. I hope my sources are wrong this time.​

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►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Idiot)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

It's spaceships. I'm calling it right now. They're gonna make all the other Tinkers look like idiots.​

​

User has received an infraction for this post.​

Void Cowboy, you know the rules. I'm not repeating them again. -TinMother​

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►TinMother (Moderator)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

I am locking this thread to prevent unwarranted speculation before a PRT announcement, if indeed one is coming.​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3

■​

♦ Topic: WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!
In: Boards ► Places ► North America ► United States ► Brockton Bay
Bob (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)
Posted On Feb 7th 2011:
HOLY-

So THIS just appeared above the PRT building. It was accompanied by a sound like thunder that vibrated my bones and a windstorm that blew people standing outside over. It lasted for 10, maybe 15 seconds? The ground was shaking too, like an earthquake. Probably from that ridiculous thunder sound.

I should know. I'm standing on the sidewalk I just ate. With my face! I also can't hear much right now, my ears leaked a little blood. My hearing better not be permanently damaged from this!

Then the Endbringer sirens fired up for a minute or so. I could only barely hear them, but I got the memo once I saw people further away from the thing start running. Once whoever runs the sirens realized the thing wasn't doing anything but sitting there in the sky, they turned them off. Looks like some people are still running to the Shelters even so.

I can't even see both ends! It's massive!

EDIT: People are saying it looks like a spaceship. Can't say I blame them.

EDIT 2: Think a Tinker is behind it? Whoever they were upping the scales for? As much as I hate to see Void Cowboy be right, I can see Tinker 20 being a spaceship builder.

(Showing page 4 of 35)

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

That is one big machine. If it even is a machine, it looks like a weird building, only flying and horizontal.​

​

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Welp. I suppose we now know the new level 20 Cape is a Tinker. Moreover we can be reasonably sure that thing showing up was unexpected given someone hit the Endbringer sirens, even temporarily.​

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►Winged_One (Veteran Member)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

I cannot see this spaceship you're all saying is there. What are you talking about?​

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►Chaosfaith (Cape Groupie)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

A FUCKING SPACESHIP?! ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW? I know Tinkers are bullshit, but GOD DAMN.​

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►Valkyr (Wiki Warrior)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

If that thing is what we immediately assume at first glance, Tinker 20 is underselling the new Cape.​

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►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Idiot)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

HAH! I told you! I told you ALL!​

​

Finally a spaceship Tinker! It's about time a cape made something from scifi!​

​

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

No. I refuse to live in a world where Void Cowboy called something.​

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►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

That is definitely a spaceship. A three kilometer long spaceship. Holy shit.​

​

►L33t (Verified Cape) (Villain)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Guys, I just sent my flying camera drone up to take a look at the ship.​

​

That thing is not a civilian ship. It has guns.​

​

Big. Fucking. Guns.​

​

Take a look at this, these, and those. And this area, if my Tinker senses are tingling correctly, is a series of some kind of projectile weapon deployment port.​

​

If the Heroes have this kind of firepower now, Uber and I might switch teams.​

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►GstringGirl (Cape Groupie)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

O.O​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ... 33, 34, 35

(Showing page 5 of 35)

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

...​

​

Those cannons, and I can only describe them as cannons, have a caliber of 40 meters, or 131~ feet.​

​

The largest gun barrel in the world, the Schwerer Gustav railway gun from Germany, only has an 80cm caliber. That's 0.8 meters. 2.6~ feet.​

​

Holy fucking shit.​

​

►Procto the Unfortunate Tinker (Not a tinker)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Someone must have looked at the guns on a Star Destroyer from Star Wars and decided they just weren't big enough. The ship's way smaller, but holy shit those guns.​

​

►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

I have been told from on high that since the cat is clearly severely out of the bag, I am allowed to release some basic info on our new Wards member.​

​

We are tentatively calling him Shipyard. He is a Tinker. As some have speculated, it is he who we have increased the Power Scale's maximum level for.​

​

He is the world's first Tinker 20+. Yes. PLUS.​

​

Why so highly rated? He creates spaceships (he says they're starships, nobody is very clear on the difference). Not builds, mind you, creates. He has some kind of secondary power which allows him to make the things he builds out of Lego (yes, you read that correctly) into real objects.​

​

Armed objects in the shape of spaceships.​

​

I've been cleared to reveal that because after letting it out, the higher ups are decently confident nobody is going to be stupid enough to attack or otherwise hurt him. To any villains thinking otherwise, he can summon spaceships from his pockets, spaceships which have weapons on board equivalent to small nukes.​

​

He got our PR department, including Glenn Chambers, to capitulate to his costume idea and name. Think about that.​

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►Acree ​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

...In the immortal words of Clockblocker, that's bullshit.​

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►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Yeah, that's what I said when he showed us his powers. My new teammate is bullshit personified.​

​

►Vista (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Clock, be nice to Shipyard. He can't help his power's absurd levels of bullshit and you know it.​

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►Kid Win (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Fucking Tinkers.​

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►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

But Kid, you are a Tinker.​

​

►Kid Win (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

He summoned a shuttle bigger than a car in the Wards common room with a fling of his arm, from a Lego model. What's more, I can't understand his tech at all.​

​

Fucking. Tinkers.​

​

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Aww, does Kid Win have Tinker envy? ​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ... 33, 34, 35

(Showing page 6 of 35)

►Kid Win (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Shut up, AllSeeingEye, nobody asked you.​

​

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Roughly 10 minutes after the ship appeared, a white and blonde blur was seen flying towards it from the ground. I'm assuming for now it was Glory Girl, but I can't be sure.​

​

The Cape got within a certain distance of it, passed some kind of threshold, and a glowing barrier appeared around them. It seemed to stretch around the ship in a bubble. The Cape didn't make it much farther, though, because the barrier showed up again as they fell out of it like a ragdoll and kept going towards the ground. I managed to get a video, here.​

​

From the dust cloud I can see from my apartment, they must have hit terminal velocity before impact. I sure hope it was Glory Girl, and that whatever interfered with her flight didn't also knock out her invulnerability.​

​

►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Idiot)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

:O IT HAS A SHIELD TOO?!​

​

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

It's a shield. God damn it, not only is it a massive spaceship with huge guns, but it's shielded too?! And it looks like that shield interferes with Parahuman abilities, at least ones dealing with flight. Why else would Glory Girl fall? She looked unconscious too. I hope she's okay.​

​

►Glory Girl (Verified Cape) (New Wave)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

I'm fine guys, whatever hit me only turned off my flight and knocked me unconscious. Hitting the ground woke me up. I didn't get hurt though.​

​

►GstringGirl (Cape Groupie)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Whew. That's good.​

​

►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Idiot)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

I wonder why the ship's shield stopped Glory Girl from flying. She should have just bounced off if it registered her as a threat.​

​

►Panacea (Verified Cape) (New Wave)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Vicky's not telling the whole truth. She got bruised. Badly. I'm lucky I got to her in time.​

​

Whoever Shipyard is, you need to apologize to Vicky.​

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►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Ooooh @Shipyard, she's calling you out!​

​

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@Panacea I am truly sorry for your sister's injuries, but I did not make her fly up and attempt to breach the shield of my battlecruiser. Please do not allow her to do so again, I am not yet on board the ship and it's anti-intrusion systems are active.​

​

This goes for anyone else, too. DO NOT BREACH THE SHIELD. I'm on my way to a shuttle right now so I can get on board and put it in Peace Mode.​

​

I REPEAT: DO NOT BREACH THE SHIELD. If the ship senses too many attacks in a certain timeframe it will automatically engage Defense Mode and start wiping out threats to it or my safety.​

​

Also I'm pretty sure Director Piggot is going to have me on monitor duty for weeks because of this.​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 ... 33, 34, 35

(Showing page 7 of 35)

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

It has a Defense Mode. Great.​

​

Please tell me L33t's camera drone won't trigger that.​

​

That ship's weapons probably make an Endbringer look tame. I'm also a little concerned that you described it as a 'battlecruiser' implying it is not, in fact, a dreadnought class ship.​

​

What the hell else can you build?!​

​

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@AllSeeingEye provided Leet keeps his drone outside the shield, he should be fine. As for what I can build; I'm going to go with not giving any more details given Vista is currently whacking me from across the shuttle. A lot.​

​

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

...You can make bigger things, can't you.​

​

Oh god.​

​

►L33t (Verified Cape) (Villain)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@Shipyard No worries I am going to keep my drone far, far away from your ship.​

​

Side note, how do we go joining the good guys' team?​

​

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@L33t I'm not sure. I showed up at the PRT HQ with a cloaked shuttle and uncloaked it in front of the doors. Let's see here...​

​

Okay, I've contacted the PRT. They should be getting in touch with you about turning yourselves in.​

​

@AllSeeingEye Shhhhhhhhh, don't get me in trouble with the Bosses.​

​

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

...And somehow Shipyard makes two villains switch sides within moments of his debut. What is even going on right now?!​

​

►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@L33t I've messaged you privately about, as you said, 'joining the good guys'.​

​

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

A much smaller dark gray ship just flew out of the PRT's garage doors, turned in the air on a dime, and flew up to the 'Battlecruiser'. It bypassed the shield without any kind of effect and flew into a large door on the bottom of the ship that opened when it approached.​

​

I saw at least six others like it on the inside through my binoculars.​

​

@Shipyard, any comment?​

​

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Yeah, that was my shuttle. I've landed in the hangar bay and am currently booking it to the Bridge. Hopefully I can turn the automatic defenses off because some idiot tried hitting the shuttle window with a sniper bullet or something. The ship is not happy about that.​

​

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

...God damn it, is he trying to get us all killed?!​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 ... 33, 34, 35

(Showing page 8 of 35)

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@Shipyard thank you for replying. Out of curiosity, are those more 'shuttles' I saw?​

​

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@Bagrat Yeah, the Battlecruiser's main hangar fits like 30 of the things. Neat, huh?​

​

►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Idiot)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@Shipyard Your ships are so cool! Can I get a ride in one sometime?​

​

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Void Cowboy, that would require you telling me your identity. Right now though I need to stop browsing the forums on my phone, I've reached the Bridge.​

​

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Of course you have 30 more shuttles. I shouldn't be surprised at this bullshit anymore.​

​

Wait, how did you get from the hangar to what I think is the Bridge?​

​

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@AllSeeingEye The battlecruiser has a network of transport booths to many locations across the ship.​

​

►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Idiot)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

:O​

:O​

​

O_O​

​

YOU HAVE TELEPORTERS?!​

​

►Winged_One (Veteran Member)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

A hidden craft that can stop Parahuman powers?​

​

No, this will not do.​

​

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@Winged_One ... Huh.​

​

Gotta admit, I didn't see that one coming.​

​

Why are you posting on the forums, Ziz, and how can you speak English?​

​

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

OH SHIT.​

​

...​

​

Guys, he's not kidding.​

​

He's not wrong.​

​

Winged_One is the Simurgh.​

​

FUCK.​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 ... 33, 34, 35

(Showing page 9 of 35)

►Winged_One (Veteran Member)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Interesting, little ship builder. How have you tracked me?​

​

►GstringGirl (Cape Groupie)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

She didn't even deny it.​

​

►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

I've alerted my superiors. This is a big problem.​

​

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

You are not as subtle as you think you are, Endbringer. My ship's sensors cover the entire solar system and far beyond.​

​

And don't think I can't see your real body. The Alterans were nothing if not interested in different dimensions and other realities.​

​

►Winged_One (Veteran Member)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Well, then. I will simply have to come deal with you.​

​

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

OH. FUCK.​

​

►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@Shipyard THIS IS NOT FUNNY, MAN.​

​

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@Clockblocker Sorry Clock, but it's true. My sensors show her leaving orbit right now.​

​

I imagine Dragon is yelling at me, but I'm too integrated with the ship right now to hear her.​

​

Welp, guess it's time to see what the might of the Alterans can do to a hyperdimensional construct.​

​

@Winged_One COME AT ME, MOTHERFUCKER!​

​

►Winged_One (Veteran Member)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Challenge accepted.​

​

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

He just challenged an Endbringer to a fight. Directly.​

​

I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.​

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►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Idiot)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

Guys the Endbringer sirens just started up again. They haven't stopped.​

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►Aegis (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

@Shipyard GOD DAMN IT, SHIPYARD.​

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(Showing page 10 of 35)

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

What look like engines on the back of the Battlecruiser just lit up. It's starting to move upwards into the sky. I think the guns on it turned to point up too.​

​

►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)​

Replied On Feb 7th 2011:​

For anyone still reading this and those who haven't gone to the Shelters, this is legit. The Simurgh is on route for Brockton Bay. Get off the forums, go to a shelter, RIGHT NOW!​

​

--LB--

“Oh shit,” Greg Veder said, as he bolted out the door with his family. He didn’t even log out of his PHO account.

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 4
Flight and Fight​

Captain's Log, Earth Date: February 7th, 2011

So.

Things have happened.

Um.

Okay, quick summary then given how I'm currently flying a highly advanced warship on course to tackle the most bullshit of the Endbringers.

Said warship didn't spawn where we thought it would. It popped up above the PRT building, in full view of everyone, and let out an immense pressure wave.

I got chewed out by Piggot, Armsmaster, and even Miss Militia.

Then all the Wards.

Then Dragon.

I had to attend an emergency PR meeting. Glenn Chambers tried his Shipper idea again. Needless to say after the ‘discussions’ I'd undergone with the aforementioned people I was not in a very good mood.

I may have pulled an Alteran energy weapon out of my pocket and implied that if the PR team didn't let me choose they'd be stunned in short order.

Dragon de-escalated by offering me Shipyard as an idea provided the meeting ended without anyone unconscious.

Anything to get me out of that torture chamber was good with me. So now I'm Shipyard.

I was being chewed out by Piggot, again, when the Hyperion (that's the name of this particular Aurora class) mentally connected with me and gave me an alert.

Collateral Damage Barbie had decided my ship was a good idea to Directly Damage.

Thankfully she didn't actually attack the ship. That would have been all kinds of disastrous. She breached the shield barrier and instead fell out of the sky.

Regardless, the Hyperion started counting down to an initiation of it's Defense Mode, something that is probably not a good idea to let loose above a city full of villains.

After telling Piggot this, the fact I was the only one who could fix it, and that I had to be on the Bridge to do so, Dragon's suit picked me up and ran through the PRT building to the garage. As the only one who could keep up currently present, Vista came with us.

Even at their fastest I had enough time to review and even reply to the thread about the ship on PHO that Dragon told me about. Clockblocker had posted and pinged my new account about Collateral Damage Barbie's sister Panacea calling me out.

I apologized, but also covered my ass. The PRT wasn't nicknamed the Public Relations Team for nothing after all. I figured that I should at least try to give an excuse.

When we got to the garage I deployed the shuttle, we got in, and I punched it out of the way too slowly opening doors.

I might have left a sonic boom in my wake but that wasn't really that important given, y’know, actively arming itself warship above the city I live in.

The shuttle easily connected to the internet so I could watch the PHO thread to see the panic level. It wasn't that bad, to be honest, which was nice. Seems people were taking my warning seriously. And I apparently got the duo of gaming villains to turn over a new leaf by way of implied potential for Sufficiently Impressive Firepower, so there's that. I almost spilled information about how big my ships could get to somebody who was an Eye? And saw everything? Usernames are weird. Anyways, I almost spilled it to them but Missy smacked me via spacetime dickery from across the shuttle.

I blamed her for my silence in the post, as is my right.

Everything was going to plan right up until some fucking idiot shot at the shuttle.

Directly at the spot my head would have been hit.

Hyperion really didn't like that. The time to Defense Mode activating dropped like a stone.

So I panicked and put the shuttle into overdrive. Ignored the collapse of Vista as she cried out except to mentally log it for examination and possible apology later. Ignored Dragon trying to get my attention, just pointed her to the medical supplies. Flew into the hangar bay, landed, waited the seemingly agonizingly long seconds for the ramp to descend, and fucking sprinted to the nearest transport booth.

Was able to actively participate on the PHO thread too, thanks to my mental link with the Hyperion’s computer systems. Comms system access wasn't enough to stop the countdown though.

Got to the Bridge, nearly threw myself into the Control Throne, laid back, and interfaced.

Defense Mode Activation stood down. Thank fuck.

Oh yeah, and then I traced a surprisingly high number of active dimensional signatures the ship had picked up.

Found out all Parahumans had a pair of trans-reality portals in their heads, including me.

Found out that Dragon wasn't actually in her suit and due to the shield's active counter-surveillance systems, couldn't be remote controlling it.

World's foremost Tinker is actually an AI. Good to know. As soon as I knew that I made damn sure that no transmissions of any kind could reach her.

What? I'm not stupid. We had the Terminator movies on Earth Bet. Even if her creator hadn't built in shackles or a kill switch, someone else probably had.

Oh yeah, and my latest screw up; finding out about the forum account of a feathery death machine, then directly challenging The Simurgh.

On PHO.

Publicly.

Have I mentioned how much below my average common sense I'm batting today?

Shit, there she is!

End Log.

--LB--

I watched the sensor readout as the Endbringer came through by the cloud cover. She flew down toward my ship like an avenging angel, all her wings spread out to the sides and angrily fluttering. Her travel speed was slow and arcing. No doubt this was to add to her psychological impact. Behind her trailed thousands of meteors like a hailstorm of fire. Space debris. She must have wanted a dramatic entrance.

I had to admit it was an awesome scene.

All the main cannons on the Hyperion turned and locked onto her. Drones were loaded into their chutes. Shields drew immense amounts of power from the Potentia the ship had spawned with to reinforce themselves. Point defense beam arrays deployed, ready to intercept all that burning wreckage that was no doubt intended for my ship.

I mentally made a note to apologize to Aegis, I'd accidentally broken the promise about not making one of the crystalline super batteries.

If I had been sitting up or had my eyes open, I would have screamed a war cry at her. With how I was essentially asleep in the Chair Throne, I decided to use the ship's external sound projectors instead.

On second thought I made sure to start recording this and capturing any video others managed to get. Added the video of the Simurgh’s spectacular entrance too, it was only fair to the effort she'd clearly put into it. Maybe I could make a little action video out of the footage.

“AND SO I SAY UNTO THE FALSE ANGEL OF DEATH AND DESPAIR; COME AT ME, ZIZ!”

Her normally impassive and blank face curled into a snarl.

I grinned.

She thrust her arm forward, the hell storm of space debris rocketing towards the Hyperion. It screamed through the air, sonic winds buffeting everything which could listen. My point defense arrays opened up, destroying a lot of the projectiles. Even with them going full speed though there were still just too many individual objects for the limited number of beams to intercept.

They didn't seem like they'd be a danger to the shields. I suppose that's why Alterans didn't give the Aurora more than a small loadout of the point defense emitters.

Oh well.

I charged the primary cannons. The entire deck hummed under my feet, vibrating my body down to the bones. The readouts of the cannons reached 100%, and I fired.

The initial volley of bright blue light, so radiant they shined like a star in one's eyes, exploded out of the barrels of the sixteen cannons which had lock on of the Simurgh. The other sixteen were on the underside of the ship and she wasn't yet in their firing arcs. I intentionally had them spread out so some would hit her if she stayed where she was and others would intercept her if she moved. I knew she had precognitive capability, but knowing something is coming and being able to dodge it are two different things. This way, given the travel speed of the blasts, she would be hit by at least one.

I had a decent hunch that she couldn't predict me when I was inside the shield given her PHO statements about being unable to see the ship, but I was hedging my bets regardless.

She didn't react at all until the blasts cleared the shield. It confirmed my hunch about the shield, at least, but I wanted to see how she fairs against the blasts now that she could see them.

The remaining distance only gave her a second of warning time.

What did she do? Did she dodge or attempt to intercept the blasts with her space debris?

Nope, she let the main cluster hit her.

Ear shattering booms ripped the surrounding airspace apart. Flares of bright blue light and explosions eclipsed the feathery death machine from visual view. My sensors could still see her inside the cloud of near star-level heat and pyroclastic miasma that surrounded her.

Or what was left of her, anyways.

Most of her wings were gone. Half her body was vaporized. Only a very large wing and the upper left side of her body, including her neck and face, were still present.

What the fuck. In one go I'd done more damage to an Endbringer than ever before. I knew Alteran weapons were powerful, but nothing brought the resounding truth of the concept home quite like seeing it firsthand.

Even my Alteran memories didn't really prepare me for their destructive potential.

But even more than that, I was shocked at the Simurgh’s behavior. Why did she do that? I didn't even really notice the drumming impacts of her debris against the shields with how surprised I was.

To be fair, neither did the shield strength. It just dipped a single tenth of a percent.

She shouldn't have let those hit her. I wasn't really willing to buy the idea that she didn't see them, they were visually quite present if nothing else. She should have dodged into one of the single boxing in blasts, not allowed the main cluster to hit her!

When the last of the explosions from our first volleys finally cleared, over a minute and a half later, I got to witness an expression I'm sure nobody has ever seen on an Endbringer.

The Simurgh was surprised.

What little of her face and lips remained told me that.

How? She should have known what electron stripped plasma blasts the size and power this ship could produce would do to her.

She turned her gaze on the bridge, narrowing her one remaining eye. Suddenly the speed of regeneration quintupled, her body and wings regrowing from the remaining piece in a few seconds.

Okay. I guess she stopped holding back.

Alerts started popping up all around the ship's shield. Close examination found that something was twisting the very air in hundreds of places around the bubble into vortexes, siphoning gallons of air a millisecond. Out of the tips of those vortexes came spouts of plasma, impacting the shield like primary cannon blasts.

But they were beams.

The Hyperion’s shield matrix started dropping percentage points. 99%. Ten seconds later, 98%.

Well then. She'd stopped sandbagging.

My physical lips smirked. My turn.

Every drone port on the Hyperion spiraled open. The entirety of the ship's Drone stores was dumped into their chutes. I turned the ship so that all the primary turrets could target her, ignoring the plasma vortexes for now.

“ROUND TWO, BITCH!” I projected.

All the cannons fired in sequence. One after the other, the drum of the booms of Alteran war sounded out, bursts of light rocketing towards her. Like before she had only about a second's warning before the continual barrage rammed into her. Explosions bloomed all over her body, wings included, as her regeneration fought with the destructive energies unleashed.

She started doing the only thing she could do; dodging. Or trying to, anyways. My turrets were all on automatic at that point, instructed to set up situations where she'd be hit by at least one blast no matter where she went.

Provided she didn't try breaking the sound barrier, anyways. Either she wasn't that desperate yet or she couldn't.

I was going with ‘not desperate’ given her telekinesis should easily be capable of it.

Oh well. It was my job to make her desperate.

When the blasts had guided her towards the front of my ship, I let loose Wave Two.

Out of each the thirty two drone tubes onboard a thousand golden lights spilled forth. Like undulating streams of light they extended into the atmosphere around us. They formed into arcs of blinding light, going away and out from my ship, then closing on the Simurgh with deadly accuracy.

“My god,” I heard Dragon say, “it's beautiful.”

I got to see another expression on the Simurgh’s face that day. One nobody had ever seen even more so than surprise.

Her porcelain caricature was paralyzed, eyes wide, and face somehow paler than ever.

It was fear.

“THIS IS FOR EVERYONE YOU’VE EVER KILLED, MONSTER!” I screamed at her.

And then, she showed something that shocked me out of my rage.

Acceptance.

Just before the lights hit, she bowed her head and closed her eyes. I was surprised to see a peaceful, relieved smile on her lips. A monster like her shouldn't have been capable of making such an expression.

Before I could reconsider, hundreds of phase shifted nuclear level weapons hit her in a single second. Hundreds more the second afterwards. And even more hundreds the second after that. For a good half minute, the light, heat, and energy that erupted out from the Simurgh’s body was cataclysmic. The atmosphere for five miles around us turned to plasma. The shields struggled under the strain, dropping a solid two percent per second. The ship rocked and bucked in the firestorm like a bronco, the inertial stabilizers not fully capable of countering the turbulence even at maximum.

But eventually, it cleared.

Thank the gods and my own sense that I'd engaged her far, far above Brockton Bay, because otherwise there wouldn't be an Eastern Seaboard anymore.

All the Drones were gone. They'd either been shielded from the apocalyptic explosion by their phase shifting until they hit the Simurgh and exploded or simply were overcome. My ship was scarred by charred swaths of areas where the shields hadn't been strong enough to prevent all that energy from getting through. Almost all the turrets were down or exploded. They'd just kept firing, as I'd told them to, and overloaded because of it.

At the time I gave them that instruction I was throwing everything at the Simurgh just to see what would finally take her out. Everything went to hell before I could countermand the order.

I took a glance at the shield readout, despite not really wishing to see how close I'd come to death.

The red three sent shivers down my spine.

Right. So. I scheduled in a good few hours later on where I could ponder my existence and release the immense panic attack I was actively suppressing.

I just fought and beat an Endbringer on my second day as a superhero. ‘Panic Attack’ doesn’t really describe what I was going to experience when I finally let go of my emotional control.

A quick upload of the footage I'd gathered of my fight with the Endbringer was posted to the PHO forums. As shaken as I was, the rest of the human race deserved to know the good news and see how one of our destroyers had been silenced. Today would be a good day for everyone else.

I was feeling guilty on top of the panic. Immensely so. I had a nagging suspicion I'd just killed a person. A person who was doing evil things, yes, but against their own will. There was no other explanation for why she'd been peaceful and relieved at the end.

The Hyperion, picking up on my thoughts, brought up the results of a new scan. I sagged into the Control Throne with exhausted relief.

I was wrong. I hadn't truly killed her. If I'd been anyone else… well, that would be terrifying. All the firepower I'd hit her with and it still hadn't killed her. It just made my guilt evaporate instead.

The only thing left of the Simurgh was a small ball of hyper dense matter within which a trans-reality portal latched into this spacetime. It was cracked and certainly had a compromised integrity, given I could scan the inside of it, but it had survived nonetheless. Even now it was starting to emit new mass, supposedly to recreate her body.

With a smile I directed my beam arrays to scoop it up. The core, for that's what it was, of one of humanity's terrorizing monsters and possible coerced, forced, or maybe even enslaved siege engine disappeared in a white light. I directed it to rematerialize in one of the science labs. It relieved me when the rate of mass creation stopped. Apparently she was content to sit there in the lab until I could get to her.

Her portal was still active, so it wasn't that she was incapable of regenerating. But given the data I now had like the portals in Parahuman brains, the fact Glory Girl couldn't fly inside the shield, the lack of the Simurgh’s precog ability working inside the same shield, and the emotions I'd seen on her face before she ‘died’...

Something smelled fishy in Wonderland.

The fact she stopped regenerating and hadn't attacked me once her core was inside the shield was just more proof.

Something from another reality was providing powers and probably the control signal for Ziz, if indeed she was being controlled like I suspected.

Before I could handle the shitstorm all that implied, though, I needed to deal with my two other guests. They'd found the Bridge right around the time I started firing on the Simurgh with the main cannons a second time. Now they were standing in front of me.

I set the ship on course for Brockton Bay again and got up from the Control Throne.

I opened my eyes to see an irate Dragon suit and a certain cute Ward clinging to it's side as if she would fall. Missy was paler than she should be, with dark circles under her eyes, and Dragon seemed to be shaking.

They were also both clearly torn between being pissed at me and in awe.

“Oh hey gals,” I greeted them. “How's it going?”

My response to their dark scowls was to grin ear to ear.

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 5
Skynet? But She’s So Nice!​

It took two whole minutes for them to respond.

“Will,” Missy nearly whispered, “did you just kill the Simurgh?!”

I locked eyes with the young heroine. I had a choice here. I could lie, say I had defeated the Simurgh...

To anyone else that statement would seem like confirmation despite it not being so.

No, Ziz, I corrected myself, not ‘The Simurgh’. She's a victim. Most likely. Gods I hope I'm right.

Or I could tell them the truth.

…

Given I'd been plagued by a lack of common sense so far that day, going with the opposite of my initial gut-reaction fueled idea was probably a prudent, if cautious, course of… well, action.

“My ship defeated the Simurgh,“ I neutrally answered my fellow Ward.

Missy’s eyes widened and she shuddered. “How?”

“Lots and lots of Drones,” I snarkily responded.

Missy abruptly smiled, her eyes taking on a wet sheen, and she sighed with relief. “Yes!”

The look of awe on her cute face left me with even more guilt to add to the slowly evaporating pool I'd received when I thought I'd killed Ziz. Regardless of my feelings I pumped a fist in the air. “Hooray!” was my contribution to the celebration.

“Weldon,” Dragon interrupted us, “something's wrong with Vista.”

My tiny little good mood evaporated. “What.” I flatly growled. Now that I was paying attention again, she did have a far paler complexion than she should. She was also shaking and, as I'd previously noticed but become distracted from, holding onto Dragon's suit leg with a death grip.

“Vista,” I sharply said with a commanding tone, forcing her to straighten up as much as she could, “Report.”

Hey, unlike a certain clock-based co-worker of mine, I did read the PRT manuals. In the absence of a Protectorate or Wards superior, the eldest member of either was the boss, with Protectorate obviously winning out by default due to the minimum age of eighteen. Dragon was a Guild member, not Protectorate, and thus didn't count.

I was four years (ish) older than Missy. That made me The Big Boss even if my level of experience was peanuts to hers.

“S-sir,” the shaking space warper stuttered, “My powers are gone. I can't balance. My entire sense of space is gone. And…,” she trailed off with a wince, “I'm pretty sure I've got migraines.”

A mental command caused the Hyperion’s internal life detectors to focus all their sensors on the young girl. What I found made me pale. I rocketed out of my seat. No time for pleasantries.

“Dragon,” I snapped out, “will you take orders from me without any kind of even a guarantee of an explanation?”

Her suit’s head inclined slightly as if she was astonished at my audacity. “You are not a government official. You do not have that clearance.”

Then before I could reply she jumped a little, shock clear throughout her suit. Three seconds passed.

She stared at me.

I stared at her.

Missy looked confused.

Dragon growled at me. “How did you figure it out?”

I opened my mouth and raised a finger as if to respond before realising something. “Out of curiosity exactly what do you think I figured out?” As I said this, I discreetly had the Hyperion beam a certain device to my other hand, the one behind my back.

I really didn't want to have to use it, but if I had to do so to save Dragon's life from the no doubt observing watchdog program embedded within her code, I would. If it was there, all it would take is my acknowledgement of Dragon's state of being for one of the many potential triggers a Skynet fearing programmer could have made to go off.

After all, an AI that self destructs when someone learns it's an AI is totally within the paranoia profile. It's what I'd do.

If I was a racist prejudiced against digital beings, of course. I wasn't. I was just really, really good at putting myself in other people's mindsets to then develop a counter for their counters.

If I happened to be wrong and there wasn't an external or internal killswitch for her?

Meh. I'd apologize later.

After healing Missy.

Who was watching the whole exchange between us like a fan at a football game.

On another horrifying thought, I shut down the Porta Relay built into the shield. I did not need whatever gave powers relaying a signal to Dragon. If there really was such a thing. Better to be paranoid and safe than sorry, right?

The relay shutdown had the both lucky and unlucky side effect of making Missy collapse. Lucky because Dragon cut off her glare at me to look down and try to catch the girl.

Unlucky should be self explanatory.

I took the split second her attention was off me to fire my ‘weapon’. A conic wave of blue energy erupted out in a cone from five inches in front of my hand. It expanded as it traveled, getting just enough area to include the entirety of Dragon's suit.

She froze, all the lights in her armored form fading entirely.

I pulled the barrel of the gun-like emitter up to my mouth and blew imaginary smoke off it.

I'd always wanted to do that.

“Will!” Missy shrieked. I peered around the dark green ‘body' of Dragon to see her. She was angry.

Why was she angry?

I glanced between my emitter and Dragon several times before it dawned on me how this appeared.

I'd just shot a world famous Hero in front of her on my second day as another one.

You say I'm not world famous? PHO and the fact I'd just soloed an Endbringer like a mid game farming boss disagree.

Back on the ‘just shot Dragon in front of teammate’ note…

Whoops.

“Uh…,” I tried, “I swear, this is not as bad as it looks.”

My teammate gaped at me for a good ten seconds. Then she continued yelling. “IT LOOKS REALLY, REALLY BAD!”

--LB--

“As I've already told you, Missy, she's an AI,” I repeated for the umpteenth time, trying to drag said AI’s ridiculously heavy suit towards the transport booth right outside the Bridge.

My fellow young hero was watching me like a hawk to ensure I didn't, as her abrupt yelling session accused me of, ‘do anything weird’ to Dragon. The Cute Ward has a set of lungs on her, no question.

And the idea that she's innocent?

HAH.

Let's just say the PR machine of the PRT must be really good at their jobs. The only other explanation is that Missy has a lot more self control when she's not giving me a thorough lesson on how expansive her vocabulary is.

I'm not sure which option is more terrifying, to be honest.

“And I still don't believe you,” she shot back. The poor girl was taking every step next to me very carefully, to keep both her accusing glare on me and her balance.

Almost there. I saw the transport booth doors open as they detected our presence. “How can I prove to you that I'm telling the truth?” I sent her way.

Just five more muscle cramping tugs to go. Come on, Will! You can do this!

My internal cheerleader wasn't really helping at the moment, but A for effort.

Missy narrowed her eyes at me. “You can't. Dragon never leaves her base, wherever that is, and so you can't.”

I knew this, of course, just like most cape geeks (and I guess capes too? Huh. Possible opponent threat assessment or worldwide dick measuring contest?) knew it. But that actually made it easier for me to prove it to her than any other idea.

“Okay, Missy, let's say you're right,” I began, humoring her while shoving the still fucking heavy Dragon suit into the transport booth. “If you are, then Dragon must have been remote controlling her suit up until I disabled it, yes?”

How was I going to do this? There wasn't enough room in the transport booth for a suit and me, much less with Missy squeezed in alongside us. Just her and Dragon could barely fit uncomfortably in the rather large cubicle that was the booth.

“Right. Dragon remote controls her suits. Everybody knows that,” Missy agreed. She was still glaring at me, even if her face had become thoughtful.

Apparently she liked to debate. Who knew?

“What's your point?”

“My point, Missy, is that Dragon was incapable of controlling her suit remotely ever since we breached the shield of the Hyperion,” I explained absently, only a small part of my mind in the mostly useless discussion.

“What are you talking about and what is Hyperion?”

I opened my mouth to respond, realized something, and spun around. “You don't know what the Hyperion is?” I asked, confused.

The Cute Ward brought her cuteness factor up another notch by crossing her arms and furrowing her eyebrows. Frak, no wonder the PR team made her so… cute and adorable as a superhero image. She really didn't have the disposition or mannerisms to offset her raw cuteness.

It was like watching a puppy try to look mean. I had to resist my instinctive urge to cuddle her up in my arms and snuggle my face into her hair, as I was quite sure such action wouldn't be appreciated at that moment in time.

Later…? Meh. I'd try and get the other Wards in on it too so she couldn't rain her wrath down upon me alone.

“No, Will, I do not know what ‘The Hyperion’ is,” she growled.

I blinked, even more confused. “Why not?”

“Because you probably think you told me and didn't,” she offered, a smirk gracing her lips.

My eyes widened and I let out an embarrassing “Ah.” Yeah, now that she brought it up, I'd only thought of the Hyperion in my own head and written it into a log I composed from the Throne Chair, neither of which were necessarily verbal communications methods. I cleared my throat awkwardly and gestured to the deck below us. “Yes, well. Sorry about that. The name of this ship is the Hyperion.”

Missy’s glare only lessened a tiny bit. “Uh huh. Great. Can we get back to the fact you shot a hero in the back now please?!”

I rolled my eyes at her melodramatic tone. “Fine. Like I said, ever since we breached the Hyperion’s shield, Dragon could not possibly have been remote controlling her suit.”

“Why not.” Uh oh. Missy's patience was starting to run out.

Dennis had warned me that if I ever heard that tone from her I was to either apologize or run the hell away.

Option A was out because I didn't do anything wrong and B because she could just warp spa-

Wait.

Could she do that now that whatever was providing powers was blocked?

“WILL!” she yelled, her face coming back into abrupt focus right in front of my face.

“Gah!” I cried out, jumping back.

Several things happened in the next five seconds.

I hit Dragon's precariously balanced suit in the very open transport booth doors.

It lost any semblance of stability I'd managed to coax out of the inactive servos.

We both collapsed to the floor outside the booth, Dragon's incredibly heavy suit on top of me. The limbs of it that met the floor expressed their irritation with me by letting out several ear-splitting CLANGs.

The Hyperion, sensing I was in danger, automatically used the Asgardian Beaming Arrays to move the inactive suit off me and to the floor next to me.

Missy jumped back and got into a wobbly combat stance at the sudden light and sound.

I groaned on the ground, brought a palm to my face, and banged my head against the floor.

I’d completely forgotten about those.

“Will!” Missy called out.

“I'm okay!” I called back, coughing a little at the damage my ribs had received from the momentary collision between a several hundred pound mech and my vulnerable body. Those were gonna need a patch job. “I'm also an idiot!”

“Why?”

“I just remembered that the Hyperion has beam arrays. We don't need to use the transport booths!”

I expected her to be happy, or even relieved.

I did not expect the Tone of Death, another warning Dennis gave me.

“WHAT.”

Uh oh.

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 6
Diagnosis​

The whine of the Asgardian transporter sounded out in one of the larger rooms of the Hyperion, accompanied by it’s signature white aurorae, and deposited us.

I had bruises. Lots of bruises. Most of them were on my ribs from the gigantic freaking Dragon suit landing on me, but several were my irritable teammate’s fault.

Turns out Vista, The Cute Ward, can really throw a punch. Who knew?

Certainly not me, that’s for sure.

The Medbay of the Hyperion was primarily a long rectangular room with the trademark high ceilings of the Alterans. Unlike those of Atlantis, it wasn't designed to be super pretty, just functional, and so didn't have partitions or sections. The only doors out of it besides the standard entryway were to three isolation rooms and their attached observation rooms.

Lined up like pre-built townhomes were about thirty medical beds. Very high end technology that was invented right as the Wraith War was turning bad. A completely accurate physical scanning system and a guided set of healing tools, including a toned-down version of the Regeneration Cube, were the new and differing features over something, say, like the Atlantis medical floor would have. City dwellers that aren't weird like my Alteran memories said I, they, were, were usually much more hands on. Especially if they were in the ‘hate on Asurans’ camp. No sentient or even close automation here, no siree.

Nevermind that Destiny was sentient and a massive frakking troll. Oh no, our civilization hasn't been nailing synthetic intelligence for dozens of millions of years or anything, let's just regress because a people we made didn't want to fight!

“Fucking hypocritical, dicknugget bastards,” I mumbled under my breath as I dragged the still very heavy Dragon suit to the far end of the Medbay.

There were two machines there. One was normally present in Warship Medbays, a Synthetic Manipulation Table. Thing allowed Alterans to get into and modify any technology they put on it. Nanites are wonderful, aren't they?

The second machine was not supposed to be here at all. I would have to investigate why a full spectrum Genetic Manipulation Device was present later. Don't get me wrong, there should be a Genetic Manipulation Device in the Hyperion's Medbay. It just shouldn't be one of the ones that can manipulate absolutely everything about you. Those were closely guarded secrets by my race, and I only knew about them because Janus showed me his back on Atlantis.

No! Bad Alteran! I said to myself, separating those memories from where they'd unexpectedly clung to me. Back in the ‘open if needed’ box you go!

Now how do I get this heavy-as-frak suit on the Table? I asked myself, studying the rather high height off the floor it's top extended to.

I couldn't help but feel I'd forgotten something important though.

“Will!” Missy hissed from right behind me.

Ah yes. My teammate.

I jumped about six feet in the air as my heart rate shot into the stratosphere. When my vision came back from the near heart attack I'd suffered I put a hand to my chest, breathing heavily, and spun around.

“You know that if I die of a heart attack you’ll be stuck on the Hyperion with a deactivated heroic AI Tinker and a brain tumor that's going to eat you with no way off, right?” I sarcastically asked her, rubbing my chest.

Missy froze. Her face morphed into one of terror.

I tilted my head, confused. “What'd I say?” I asked, genuinely unaware.

The smolest Brockton Bay Ward unfroze and growled. “Tumor. Head. Eat me!” she summarized succinctly, her eyes glaring at me more and more each time.

I blinked, raising a finger in confusion. “Didn’t I mention that?” I asked. I could’ve sworn I did, but then again... maybe not.

“NO! YOU DIDN’T!” she yelled, exasperated.

I blinked again, opened my mouth, closed it, found my focus again, and shrugged. “Oh. Well. You have two brain tumors in your head our world calls the Corona Pollentia and Gemma, they’re what give you your powers and normally have two inter-reality portals in them, and with the shield on full isolation mode those portals can’t exist. That apparently means your Coronas start mutating and growing like tumors, who knew?”

I went back to trying to shove Dragon up onto the Table while Missy gaped at me.

I’d just managed to get a single one of her arms onto the table (how much does this suit even weigh? Gods damn it!) when Missy’s smaller hand grasped my shoulder and her fingers dug into it like steel.

I froze, just a tiny bit concerned now.

“Will,” she flatly declared.

“Y-yes, M-Missy?” I stammered, trying and failing to sound calm.

Her fingers tightened their grip. “Explain. Now.”

“Fingers off first!”

Her fingers tightened even more in an threatening manner before slowly retracting. I turned around, carefully not making any sudden moves, and gulped when I saw her face.

I am so dead.

She raised one of her eyebrows. Waiting.

I coughed lightly into my totally not clenched fist to attempt and ground myself around my nervousness. “Parahuman powers come from portals linked to our Coronas,” I began, mentally pulling up the ship's scan history. “The Hyperion’s sensors made short work of the frankly amateur attempt at dimensional obfuscation after I detected Ziz and took a look at what was on the other side.” I pointed at Missy’s head, bobbing my head back and forth. “Yours is some huge biomechanical construct sitting on another version of Earth. Bigger than the U.S.”

Her eyes deadened and she looked at me with complete disbelief.

“You can choose to believe me or not, but it’s the truth,” I defended my ship. “My own seems to be rather new, I guess, even though the carbon decay shows it’s got significantly smaller, older sections. When the shield went into full lockdown mode it was still expanding. Trying to build a space bridge between that Earth and that Mars, I think.”

Missy set her mouth in a flat line. She definitely didn’t believe me.

I shrugged. “Like I said, believe me or not, that’s the truth. Now can I please fix Dragon?” I pointed back over my shoulder at her… body.

Missy screwed her face up in incredulity at me. Her mouth hung slightly open and her eyes were narrowed. Complete and total bewilderment. “Where do you come up with this bullshit?!” she asked. “Not even Dennis is this bad!”

“Reality,” I grinned, spinning around to work on Dragon again. “And it’s not bullshit.”

“BULLSHIT!”

“Nope, all true,” I repeated yet again. I held out my hand and instructed Hyperion to assemble a Synthetic Interface Device in it. Asgard beams chiming for a few seconds netted me a cylindrical object with a white-blue emitter at the end and a tablet for viewing the results or interacting with the linked Synthetic.

“Weldon, you’re claiming that superpowers come from some kind of… alien computers!” Missy shrieked.

I cocked my head to the side and snorted. “Huh. Alien computers. Yeah, that’s actually a lot more accurate of a description than what I was using in my head.”

“WHAT?!”

“Well I was calling them Biotech Shardlings, given their similarity to something the Alterans encountered a few dozen million years ago,” I conversationally continued.

Missy was silent for several seconds. The Hyperion showed her jaw-dropped stare at my back kept going the whole time.

Wave the Interface at Dragon’s body to find the primary processor… Ooooh, clever girl, you have multiple core processors.

Eventually she just sighed, dropped her head, rubbed the bridge of her nose, and shook her head. “Just… just get rid of this headache, Weldon,” she told me, sighing again. “Please. And try not to make it worse.”

“Righto!” I agreed heartily, already barely paying attention to her. “Hop on one of the medical beds and the Hyperion will start scanning you, see what we can do.”

Missy sighed in defeat one last time before trudging over to the closest bed, and as I’d asked, hopped on. Her eyes widened with surprise, presumably at how comfortable they were, and she laid down with a contented sigh. “These are nice,” she commented.

Well done young one, not many of your kind figure that out this soon in your life, I thought at Dragon. Not that she would hear me. Hmmm, well, just link the fifteen of her cores together with the Interface… yes, there we go, now how about her code?

Wow, I thought to myself, momentarily breaking me out of the fugue I was just in.

Oh, wait, did Missy say something? Hyperion!

Ah.

“So much better than the Atlantis ones, I know,” I agreed again.

“Atlantis,” Missy deadpanned, then sighed. She was doing that a lot for some reason. “I’m not even going to ask until you get rid of this headache.”

“Capital city of the Alterans. One of the first functional cityships. Was used as a template for the others that followed her,” I succinctly explained.

Missy groaned, rolled her eyes, and banged her head against the bed cushion. “Not. Asking!”

Hyperion, please start scanning her.

While the various arms and scanning devices unfolded from the bottom of Missy’s medical bed, I took a closer look at what the Synthetic Interface had managed to figure out so far.

Dragon’s code was…

Simply put, she was beautiful. The Alterans had gone for modularity with creating the Asurans and their earlier cousins the Constructors, but Dragon eclipsed them both. Instead of using lots of modular pieces running the same programs to create emergent sentience, whoever created her had built code to do the same thing.

In a vastly more elegant manner.

I almost didn’t want to touch any of it. She was a work of art. To modify her would be like… like defacing the Mona Lisa to fix the little bit that looks like a mole under her nose. Like fixing the alignment of the Tower of Pisa. Like adding heavier weaponry to Atlantis. Fixing problems, yes, but somehow losing the works of art and culture they’d become.

Dragon should be declared an Eighth Wonder of Earth Bet, and I was going to have to edit her very being to save her.

Because within this work of art was… darkness.

That’s all I could easily describe it as. The matrix of beautiful, flowing code contained a small section -invisible to the rest of it and without the Hyperion, me- that was…

To use my earlier comparisons, it was as if someone had taken a smear of fully light-absorbing paint and nicked the Mona Lisa in her hair. Well hidden, but if you found it… sickening.

Gods, at least my race had only wiped out the Asurans when they didn’t do what some of us wanted them to. This… this was malicious. Evil.

Ori.

Iron Maiden. Ascalon.

Two rather uninteresting names for something that would have had the creator executed by us.

No, not us! I thought, catching myself. A shake of my head sent the personality back into its box.

Those programs would have the creator executed by the Alterans.

I was just really, really fucking pissed off.

“Missy,” I spoke, leaning on the table with both my hands and looking down, “Who created Dragon?”

She jumped a little, sat up, and glared at my back. Thank you, Hyperion. “Her parents, you moron!” she snapped. “She’s not an AI!”

Gods damn it, Missy. I whirled around and held up my tablet towards her, tapping it repeatedly in the matrix of code. “Oh really? Then how come I’m looking at her code right now?!” I shot back, glaring at her with a dare of contradiction in my eyes.

Missy kept her gaze locked on mine for several moments in defiance. Then she relented and looked down at the tablet. Maybe due to her exhaustion or maybe due to being curious. Her eyebrows rose at what she found and she locked her gaze on mine again. “What’s that?” she asked in a challenging voice.

I narrowed my eyes at her and pursed my lips. “You know what it is. I already told you.”

She narrowed her own eyes. “I refuse to believe Dragon is an AI, Weldon!”

Yeah, I was already pissed, and this was not helping. “Well then what would convince you, Missy? I already asked you that and you said that nothing I could do would convince you. What about if Dragon herself confirmed it? Then would you believe me?!” I was almost yelling at a teammate and not proud of it, but my patience was nearly gone.

She swallowed as I began to wail on her, her gaze turning into a heated glare. “No!” she yelled back.

That snapped me out of it. The pure lack of logic, of sense, brought me back to reality. “What?” I asked.

Missy blinked as well, shaking her head. “No! I mean, maybe. Yes?” she sounded as if it was a question at the end. “I don’t know, Weldon! My head kind of has a fucking migraine at the moment that you still haven’t fixed!” She slapped the sides of her head and let out a little whine of pain.

The first I’d heard.

Well shit.

“Okay, okay,” I agreed, with a healthy amount of sheepishness, “lemme take a look.”

I put the tablet down next to Dragon's prone suit and walked the short distance to Missy’s medical bed. A thought to the bed brought up a holographic display panel of all her readout and the results of the few scans that had completed, including the full body one the Hyperion took on the bridge and the one the bed’s scanner just finished.

I couldn't help myself; my face fell.

Missy gulped, a worried look sent my way. “Will?” she asked warily.

I tried to put a grin back on my face, but a slight grimace and dead eyes were all I managed. “So!” I faux-cheerily asked, “how do you feel about becoming a normal human for a while?”

Missy narrowed her eyes tiredly at me. “What are you talking about Will?”

I drew in a deep, solid breath, then let it dissipate through my nose. “You want me to try bedside manner or just lay it out?”

“I get the feeling I don't have a lot of time. Give it to me straight.”

I grimaced again and nodded. “Alright. I can either not treat you and let your tumors consume your brain or I can remove your Corona Pollentia and Gemma,” I explained succinctly.

Missy blinked at me several times, her look dumbfounded, before she collapsed back into the medical bed's cushion. “Of course you have the technology to take someone's powers away. I shouldn't be surprised at this point,” she complained.

I chuckled and nodded. “No you should not,” I agreed, actually managing to grin at my own joke despite the somber situation.

Missy sighed and stared up at the ceiling for several long seconds. Just as I was about to start fidgeting she spoke, quietly. “Will it hurt?”

“Less than your brain exploding,” I deadpanned.

She bodily shuddered and shook her head, then slammed her eyes closed and brought a hand up to her forehead. She groaned miserably. “Ugh, note to self; do not shake head with migraine.”

“Generally a good idea, yes,” was my commentary.

Missy opened her eyes and rolled them at me. “Will my powers come back?” she wearily asked, her eyes and voice begging me to say yes.

I wished I could tell her definitively one way or the other but I truly had no clue. “I don’t know, Missy,” I revealed. “The tumors would be gone. Whether the… alien computers need them present to connect or can regrow them, I can’t say.”
Missy sighed again. “It's my only choice, isn't it,” she morbidly discerned.

“Pretty much.”

My teammate, though that might not be the case for much longer grit her teeth and closed her eyes. “Okay. Do it.”

I abruptly grinned and winked at her, not that she could see the wink. My voice definitely sounded like I was grinning, though. “It's not that easy Missy, I gotta have the medical bay operate on your brain with Nanites. You're gonna have to be knocked out.”

“Do. It,” she pressed.

“Alright,” I hesitantly agreed. A thought brought up the medical bay's Neural Configuration systems. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Her face was set, a thin grimace on her lips. She looked up at me and tried to smile. “I don't really know what most of what you say means, but I trust you. Not to do the safe thing but definitely the right thing,” she spoke, conviction clear in her voice. “Just… make sure I wake up, okay?”

Her voice wobbled a little.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Okay Missy, I will,” I agreed. I huffed then and shook my head. “Way to be dramatic. This tech is perfectly safe,” I mumbled under my breath.

Missy rolled her own eyes and laid back down, staring at the ceiling. “Just do it, wise guy.”

“Yeah yeah,” I chuckled. The system engaged and a white light fired out of one of the instruments surrounding the medical bed. It hit Missy and sent her into a dreamless slumber.

Hyperion, I instructed my ship, remove the tumors. And give her body a full checkup at the same time.

As the ship proceeded to do that, various tools on articulating arms roving over Missy's unconscious body, I turned back to my much bigger problem.

“Now what to do with you?” I asked Dragon rhetorically. I glanced down the tablet in my hands and scowled at the darkness in her code.

I looked back up at her body.

And I had an Idea.

“It can't be that simple, can it?”

---

My fourth check of my possible solution finished just as the Hyperion slipped into a parking position above Brockton Bay's PRT Building.

Now that the ship was stationary I could begin repairs. Apparently my own alien computer decided to be nice and create the materials I'd need to repair fifty Aurora class or build five more along with the ship in its cargo bays.

Was going to have to send it a gift basket or something.

Anyways, the Constructors were assembled via the onboard repair bays and released to begin fixing the ship, copying themselves as needed, and I turned my attention back to the solution for Dragon's little issue.

It should work.

It would freak her the hell out, yes, but it should- no, would work.

Ascalon, the activator, and Iron Maiden, the darkness, were for some reason… almost added on as an afterthought. As if Dragon's creator had built most of her in one go or a series of bursts and only realized later on they wanted a way to control her.

Huh.

Was Dragon Tinkertech?

That would explain so, so much. Including how our civilization was capable of creating a True AI at the time of Dragon's birth.

And why the darkness was added on. Fugue for the majority of her code, brilliant but nonetheless human programmer for the darkness.

Yup. It explained too much to be anything else.

Including why she had a soul.

My only worry now was whether that soul would follow her code, her arguable body, to its new home.

On another table I'd had the Hyperion beam in nearby lay a young woman. She had a kind smile on her face and her eyes were closed. I'd based her off of one of the few physical descriptions I'd found of Dragon's remote interaction program (or what I now knew to be a highly sophisticated avatar program).

Turns out Armsy is very thorough in his reports.

All his reports.

Aaanyways, to most it would appear the woman was just sleeping.

Fully clothed, of course, in the rather bland default Asuran clothing.

I'm not cruel, thanks. Except for my sense of fashion… which is entirely nonexistent.

Meh, she could always change it later if it was boring.

This body was of course not human. She was made up of Nanites.

Took a crapload of my Neutronium stores to create, but saving the best Tinker on the planet was totally worth it.

I'd made her all the way back at my first run through of this possible solution. Worst come to worst I could just reclaim the material. Best case, she would become Dragon's new body.

I just had to make sure the darkness didn't come along for the ride through the conversion process and that her soul did.

That was what I just finished checking for the fourth time.

The darkness wouldn't survive the conversion. It wasn't as tough as Dragon's other code. Hell this was only possible because of her code’s frankly bullshit levels of redundancy and error repair.

But her soul? Even Hyperion's massive number crunching capacities couldn't tell me for sure.

It really depended on how she saw herself. Did she see her code as ‘her’, or did she see whatever physical machine she was operating on as ‘her’?

Only one way to find out.

I might need to apologize profusely after this.

And wipe a significant section of the original Dragon’s memory of this ended up cloning her and making a new person entirely, otherwise Iron Maiden would activate.

Whoo boy. I did not join the Wards to make heavy decisions like this!

I pursed my lips as I looked down on her unconscious suit.

Screw it.

I hit the mental button to start the transfer and conversion.

Her hardware's hacking protections were breached just as easily as I had previously to actually look at her code, and the process started.

Thirty minutes.

…

What the hell am I going to do for half an hour?!

---

It occurred to me several minutes in that hey, I am also a parahuman, which means I also have tumors, which means I might also be close to dying right now.

So I urgently hopped on a medical bed and had it scan me.

A couple of minutes later, I had my answer. I did indeed have the tumors, but they were not behaving remotely like Missy's had been. No enlargement.

In fact, they looked like they'd shrunk a little, given the tiny amount of space between the rest of my brain and their structures.

What the hell.

I needed more information, because this made na sense. Why would Tinker Coronas shrink when cut off from their computer but Shaker ones did the polar opposite?

I stood up from the bed and tried to think. I didn't have a headache, my Coronas were shrinking, why? Why why why?

I mean, it's not like Missy and I were any different-

Wait.

My eyes shot wide open as things began occurring to me.

Exhibit A: I flew a Puddle Jumper. Uh, wait no, a shuttle. Why the hell did I think it had multiple names?

Exhibit B: I used the Throne Chair on the Hyperion's Bridge.

Uh oh.

I brought up the Hyperion's Life Sensors and turned them on the Medical Bay.

...Exhibit C: I could control the Hyperion mentally.

I gulped and, very very worriedly, looked at the detailed Lifesigns Type list.

Two Synthetic. One Human.

And one Lantean.

I gulped again, a spark of shock jolting down my spine.

Frak. Me.

---

A/N: I wanted to post this yesterday but I felt that would be too mean.

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 7
Happenings Elsewhere​

Of the multitude of beings upon Earth Bet capable of truly simulating the future, five stood above all.

One lived in orbit, an engine of conflict and destruction leashed to an unknowing controller.

Another, the instigator of this world's troubles, flit across the planet saving, rescuing, and otherwise improving the lives of the native species in an attempt to find what he was missing.

The leader of a group of the native species, hiding his assembly of temporal monitors in a cave in parts unknown.

A woman in body, but girl in mind and soul. A veritable slave to one of the only functional weapons against The Rescuer, and by choice. She who wears a fedora.

And the last, a young girl who could ask questions and get the likelihood of events occurring.

On the morning of February 6th, 2011, their steadfast visions, paths, and predictions of the future… glitched.

An undetectable phenomenon was interfering with their ability to understand the universe.

The Orbiter would learn the answer to her query a single planetary rotation later. But she didn’t know that. She was patient, however, and so settled in to observe. To figure out exactly what was disrupting her plans. And when she figured it out?

Well, her unknowing controller’s deadline was soon upon them. She would simply have to eliminate the problem herself.

The Rescuer stopped mid-flight. He too took notice of the disruption. He had no more idea than the Orbiter what was causing it. But, he was not an intellectual type, like his deceased mate. As such he deemed it beyond his purview, merely logging the incident in his memory before continuing on his original course.

His advisor would be most unhappy if he allowed one of the volcano eruptions caused by the first conflict engine to kill a high number of the planet’s native species.

The temporal monitor’s leader had a very different reaction. His reliance on the data of the time was so great that his consciousness was knocked offline. He would not wake in time to prevent future changes.

And his daughter?

She would be out for blood.

Fedora girl, even as dependent on her ability and her passenger as she was, did not actually actively interpret time. She took snapshots, possibly even rapid snapshots, but it was not constant. Due to this small difference, when the disruption occurred, she was unaffected. Beyond her ability to determine the path forward, of course, but she remained conscious. She would proceed to call an emergency meeting of a conspiracy named after a witch’s brewing tool.

And the little girl? She was already having headaches, the result of trying not to use her new abilities. Due to this disruption those headaches became migraines. A day later, just as a battlecruiser rose into the sky in an attempt to defeat The Orbiter, her parents would rush her to the hospital.

One thing was certain. Something had entered the playing field. And nothing would ever be the same again.

--LB--

Rebecca Costa-Brown was not having a good day.

It started normally enough. She came into work, as Director Costa-Brown, and began going over the various things she had to sign and review as her position demanded.

Then she got a high priority call from Brockton Bay. Directly from Emily Piggot’s office.

She hadn’t been completely on board with the idea to use Brockton Bay as an experiment in the first place. Every single time she received a high priority message or call from that den of chaos, it just reinforced her belief that the entire thing was a bad idea.

Regardless, she had a job to do. It was with no small amount of hesitation that she pressed one of the buttons on her desk and allowed the incoming connection. The image of Emily Piggot, in full dress blues and sitting behind her own desk, flickered into existence above Rebecca’s desk. The live video was being displayed by her office’s holographic emission system.

It was one of the few personal gifts she still had from her old friend, her deceased- no, murdered- teammate. Her brother in all but blood. Hero.

“Hello Emily,” she greeted the Director of the Brockton Bay PRT. It wasn't very often that Rebecca thanked her powers’ stasis like effect upon her body. At that moment it received gratitude for the fact that she couldn't cry.

“Director Costa-Brown.” That was it. A curt greeting, a slight nod of acknowledgement. Lady wasn't known as an old warhorse for nothing, after all. Even with her body in the state she refused to allow Panacea to repair she was still a force to be reckoned with.

Not even Nilbog could take that away from her.

“Emily,” Rebecca said, giving her own nod of respect. “This is a high priority call. What happened?”

No more pleasantries. If the call have been a lower priority, Rebecca would’ve probably pressured Emily once more to let Panacea heal her. But there might be no time for that.

Emily sighed, long and hard. For once, the wear and tear of her body showed on her face. “It's not an emergency, but it is vitally important,” she began. The blond woman took a moment to wipe a hand down her face and sighed once more. “We have a new Tinker 10.”

That got Rebecca's attention. “Specialization?” she demanded.

Emily set her mouth in a grim line, rolled her eyes, and blew a breath out of the side of her mouth. “Spaceships.”

It took several seconds for Rebecca to do anything but stare at her subordinate like she’d gone crazy. “Would you repeat that?” she requested, though it sounded more like an order.

“Spaceships,” Emily instantly repeated. “Ships that fly into and through space.”

Rebecca let out a long breath of her own and settled back into her comfortable office chair.

“Yes, that was my reaction as well.”

Fuck, she thought. If Zion learns of this...

That was a thought, and a problem, for Cauldron. And for later. Right now, she had to get as much information out of Emily as possible. And see how accurate the specialization was. Given the Brockton Bay PRT had rated this new Tinker a level 10, it was entirely possible they weren’t remotely wrong. There had only ever been one Tinker 10 before besides the Simurgh, and he could have had that specialization. Easily.

His was Waves.

Something just as powerful, as all encompassing, as Spaceships.

She idly noticed that her brother was showing up in her thoughts a lot these days.

“It's confirmed?” Rebecca questioned Emily, raising an eyebrow. “The rating, that is?”

Emily shook her head and grimaced. “We haven't tested him yet, no,” she admitted. Then she got a hard look on her face. “Though I'm not inclined to doubt him. He announced his presence and intent to join the Wards by uncloaking, in his words, a shuttlecraft in front of our building.”

Both of Rebecca's eyebrows raised at that. “He’s a minor?”

Emily confirmed her assumption with a short nod. “Attends Arcadia. Triggered two weeks ago.”

“At least he’s of the heroic inclination,” Rebecca lamented, rubbing her face with her hand. It didn’t actually relieve her headaches, what few she got, but it was a helpful psychosomatic gesture for a reason. Even without head pain, rubbing faces, nose bridges, temples, or eyebrows eased mental anguish.

Emily scoffed. “Doesn’t keep him from being aggravating.” She sighed and shook her head. “The things he says he can do, Director… The things he says he can summon. I’m concerned that someone will try to get at him.”

Rebecca raised her eyebrows at that. “Why? I understand Spaceships is a very powerful Tinker specialization, but isn’t it also the most expensive? I remember a briefing on the costs of the Shuttles before NASA shut them down,” she pointed out.

Her subordinate Director scoffed and shook her head. “He doesn’t have those drawbacks, Director,” she informed her. “He also has a secondary power. We’re assuming Shaker/Striker at the moment. And it’s…” she trailed off, putting her fingers to the side of her head, “it’s fucking insane!”

“Oh? Shaker/Striker? Those ratings are usually mutually exclusive,” Rebecca commented curiously.

“He can build models of ships from Legos, throw them over his shoulder, and summon them full size,” Emily deadpanned, staring straight at Rebecca.

The national PRT Director and secret Triumvirate member was dead silent for several long, tense moments as she searched Emily’s eyes for any sign of deceit.

“C-Come again?” she finally choked out, unable to believe what she’d heard despite her perfect memory proving it to be accurate.

“You heard me correctly. Lego models to full size spaceships,” Emily repeated herself, massaging her own head and wincing.

“You’re joking.”

“I wish I was. Then I wouldn’t have this headache.”

Alexandria stared at Emily Piggot for another minute. Literally. She was subconsciously counting the seconds.

Finally she spoke up. “That’s bullshit.”

It was all she could say.

“Correct. Yet it seems to be true,” Emily agreed and countered.

Rebecca Costa-Brown leaned over her own desk and stared Emily Piggot straight in the eyes. “I want that boy tested yesterday, Emily, and not a word of this can go outside the PRT.”

She would also have to have Contessa pay a visit to their troublesome asset in Brockton Bay. This new Tinker, Shipyard, held far too much promise to allow a timeline simulator with delusions of grandeur to interfere.

“He’s with the Wards right now,” Emily informed her. “I’ll push to get him into the testing labs as soon as I can.”

Rebecca sighed with relief and subtly relaxed. “Good. Thank you for being so on top of this and bringing him to my attention.”

Director Piggot nodded her head and snapped off a curt salute. “It’s my duty and… not so much pleasure, given the subject of this conversation,” she began to agree, then tried to find further words. “But at least informing you of his abilities spreads the headache he causes around.”

That was a joke. Emily had said it with a straight face, but it was definitely a joke. Rebecca Costa-Brown smirked slightly and nodded to Emily to indicate she’d seen it. “Please call me once you have further information.”

“Yes ma’am,” Emily said. Then she hung up the call.

Rebecca managed to hold herself together for a good few seconds before standing up and shouting at nothing. “SPACESHIPS?! WHAT THE FUCK!”

She clenched her fists for several more tense seconds, wishing desperately to be able to smash something. But she couldn’t blow her identity as Alexandria in her own office.

And so, she said the magic words that would start several temporal balls rolling.

“Door me.”

--LB--

Alexandria stepped out of the hexagonal orange-lined portal back into her office at the Los Angeles PRT. The rather quick meeting had been a den of chaos. Legend was even involved. This new situation was too big, and the fact it appeared Shipyard interfered with the Path was extremely worrying. They didn’t really know what to do. For the first time in a long time Cauldron had been caught with their pants down by a new trigger.

And to a person, they hated it. Not to mention the possibility that Zion would come down on Shipyard like a sack of bricks for having the ability to help the Entity’s test subjects escape their petri dish of a planet. This had all the potential of kickstarting the apocalypse.

Alexandria was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice what, or rather who, was standing in her office. Before she could get even a foot further into the room her assistant addressed her. His voice was extremely tense.

"Ma'am, a situation has developed."

The assistant who should not be able to access her office when it was sealed.

She would be looking into that quite soon.

Alexandria glanced at him, then the closing portal, then him again, before raising an eyebrow.

"I'm paid too much to see things, ma'am," he refuted. "You're good at your job, no matter who you are." He then snorted and shook his head. “Not to mention I’ve known for years.”

Alexandria grimaced, then nodded. "Right, we'll deal with... this, later,” she stated flatly, beginning to remove her costume. “What's wrong?" She started to replace it with her normal Costa-Brown dress blues at the same time as she removed it, piece by piece.

"Ma'am, this is urgent. The new Tinker down in Brockton Bay, Shipyard, directly challenged The Simurgh on her PHO Account three minutes ago. She accepted and is headed for Brockton Bay as we speak. He left for his battlecruiser in what I'm told is one of his shuttles accompanied by Dragon and Vista. We lost all communication with them when they entered the battlecruiser's shield. One minute ago, Shipyard posted on PHO that he was at the bridge of his ship. The battlecruiser then ascended into the sky. It is currently straight on course for The Simurgh."

Rebecca Costa-Brown stopped changing, stopped walking, almost stopped breathing. She stared at her assistant in jaw-dropped, eyes-wide shock. The look of disbelief on her face was priceless.

"This is not a joke, ma'am," he assured her.

"I was only gone for HALF A DAY!”

--LB--

Revel stood in the Chicago Protectorate HQ. She was watching a national news broadcast with her lips set in a firm line.

Someone had killed the Simurgh.

Her relaxing day had been pulled out from under her before it even truly began.

As second in command of the Chicago Protectorate, and unofficial ‘wizard’-keeper, it was now up to her to get her teammates and the Wards both to the HQ and into costume in preparation for whatever they might be needed for.

It was with a heavy heart she began dialing phone numbers.

An hour later everyone except her direct superior had arrived.

“Has anyone seen Myrddin?” Revel asked.

Campanile, her seven foot tall future teammate and gigantic barrel of a boy, chimed in. “Yeah, he was drawing runes of protection or something on the elevator on my way up.” He was both serious and joking, stating the truth but with a smug grin and a teasing tone. The leader of the Wards seemed incapable of being pulled down. Something quite rare in their world.

It happened to be that same tone and imperviousness that used to drive her up a wall. Until she got used to it.

And he was only going to continue growing. She already had to crane her neck to look at his face. How the hell tall was he going to get?!

“Very well,” she sighed. “I suppose we shall wait-”

The door to their meeting room swiveled open before she could complete the sentence. In strode her direct superior, leader of the Chicago Protectorate, Myrddin. The only cape on Bet who'd chosen Magic as an explanation for their powers and carried the theme through to its full conclusion.

Case in point, the billowing, stereotypical mage robe ensemble he wore even now, face-darkening hood included. A gnarled wooden staff completed the image. The fact the face darkening was achieved via a visor was the only compromise to modern cape costumes he’d allowed.

“Hail, friends,” he greeted. Myrddin might be a few cylinders sort of a full engine, but even he could sense the solemn mood in the room. She was so serious and grave that even Campanile had failed to brighten everything up.

“Myrddin,” she greeted her superior and nominal friend, “thank you for coming.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear,” he said, waving her gratitude off. “I am sorry for tarrying but I had to refresh the intent wards in our direct travel elevator.”

Having made his excuse, Myrddin made a beeline for one of the open chairs and sat. With that, she could call the meeting to order.

Instead of doing any introduction, as time may very well be of the essence, she used the remote in her hand to turn on the projector in the room. Behind her a video of a gigantic spaceship fighting, injuring, and inevitably killing the Simurgh began playing on a loop. “At roughly 1630 hours Boston Time, the Brockton Bay Protectorate’s newest Ward, a Tinker 20, yes, 20, codename Shipyard, took his spaceship into high atmosphere and engaged the Simurgh in combat. A few minutes later, he killed her,” she summarized.

Their reactions were varied. Campanile looked like he initially believed she was pulling a fast one on him. Shuffle, her own second in command, was watching the video with rapt interest. Grace scoffed, Annex looked even more laser-focused than Shuffle, Tecton had a grim, flat line for a mouth, and Raymancer was grinning like a loon. Wanton was the only one with a relatively normal expression, and that’s only because he was paying more attention to Myrddin for cues as to how he should react.

But it was her team leader’s reaction that puzzled her. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. His face was white, his hand gripping his gnarled staff so hard his knuckles stood out. He mumbled something that she barely heard, along the lines of ‘ankh he ate us’, then stood up abruptly.

“I am sorry my friends, I must leave you for now. Revel, you are in command until I return,” Myrddin announced, already turning around. He swept to the door and waved a hand, as he’d done many times before, which caused the door to swing open without him touching it.

Door telekinesis was one of his lesser known and not very useful powers, but Revel had to respect her team leader’s ability to showboat with it.

What she didn’t respect was him ditching them. “Myrddin!” she yelled after him, protesting.

“You will be fine, Revel,” he called back to her, already in the hallway outside. “You are more this team’s leader than I have ever been anyways. I however have to greet this… Shipyard.”

Revel’s eyes widened. He’d never acknowledged it before.

And he was already gone, flying down the hall if the swish of his robes was any indication.

Revel turned back to the shellshocked Chicago Protectorate and Wards, frowning.

“It’s not like this is any fucking stranger than what he normally does,” Grace piped up.

“Hey!” Wanton intruded, offended at her mocking the hero he idolized.

Revel sent a stern look Grace’s way and sighed. The impertinent Ward just shrugged and grinned.

This was going to be a long day.

--LB--

Director Piggot was calling her. For the second time that day.

She answered. Calmly and respectfully. Anyone who claimed she scrambled for the call answering button and almost flew towards it would be fired with prejudice.

“Emily,” she greeted the incoming caller, looking up from her desk. Then the great Alexandria… paused.

The Brockton Bay Director looked like hell.

“Rebecca,” she wearily greeted Costa-Brown in return. She sounded…

Defeated.

Rebecca’s eyebrows rose at that. Emily never called her by her first name, and it took a lot to rattle her. Then again, her brand new ward engaging the Simurgh and having to deal with Endbringer preparations for her city were valid reasons to look like you were ages older than you actually were.

“Is this about Shipyard engaging the Simurgh, Emily?” Rebecca asked gently, slightly leaning forward. She stared straight into Emily’s eyes through the video call separating them.

“Turn on the news, Rebecca,” she stated.

...Emily had just called her by her first name.

The Lady, the old warhorse of the PRT, the legendary Ellisburg survivor, never did that.

Rebecca Costa-Brown swallowed nervously. “Why?”

“Just… just do it.”

Rebecca was beginning to get worried. Cauldron knew it was pure stupidity to do as Shipyard had. Face and engage the Endbringer that regularly uses Tinkertech with Tinkertech, alone, without backup? Dragon and Vista didn’t really count given the distances involved. She would barely count.

Rebecca searched Emily’s eyes for a few more moments, seeing the wear and tear on her soul reflected there, and acquiesced. “Okay, Emily.”

A few commands to her desk pushed Emily’s video call to the side for another window to pop up. She tuned into one of the national news organizations. She figured if it was big enough for the Brockton Bay Director to say ‘the news’ vaguely, then it would be on all the channels.

She dearly hoped it wasn’t ‘Simurgh lands in Brockton Bay’.

The stream loaded up and began to play.

And Rebecca Costa Brown, Alexandria, felt her jaw drop.

On loop on one of the biggest national news channels was a video, seemingly recorded from Shipyard’s vessel, of the engagement with the Simurgh.

And it showed him beating the pants off the winged Endbringer.

“Emily-” she began to ask, leaning backwards into her chair as if the impossibility on the news could eat her.

Emily didn’t look at her. She was staring at something offscreen, clearly rubbing her hand against it if her upper arm muscles were any indication. “Where are you at?” she asked.

Rebecca turned her attention back to the news just in time to witness most of the Simurgh’s body vanish in a series of bright blue flashes of light. “Shipyard just took out the majority of her body in one volley,” she stated, disbelief clear in her tone and her tense body language.

Emily nodded, almost agreeably, and scoffed. “You’re not even to the good part yet,” she faux-cheerily said.

“Emily, what the fuck?”

“No, no, shhh,” her subordinate interrupted, chuckling. She didn’t even seem to notice that she’d just patronized and shushed her superior. “Keep watching.”

Rebecca would’ve called her on her behavior if she wasn’t so keenly aware of Emily’s mental state. So she instead kept watching.

She saw the Simurgh’s regeneration skyrocket.

Her blood ran cold. Psychologically anyways, as her body was timelocked, but it felt similar.

She saw the air vortexes and realised what exactly was worrying Emily so much.

The Simurgh had stopped holding back.

More to the point; she’d been holding back before.

And yet still Shipyard didn’t quit. His ship began firing with wild abandon at the winged Endbringer, forcing her to dodge. Rebecca saw what he was doing; herding her towards the front of the ship.

And when she reached it, Alexandria witnessed something terrifying… and beautiful.

Thousands, possibly tens of thousands, of golden lights erupted from Shipyard’s vessel. They arced over and around towards the Simurgh, hit, and erupted in what looked like nuclear fire.

The next few minutes were just a maelstrom of energy and turbulence as the ship rocked in place. The shields were easy to see failing as streams of the destruction outside them slipped through, scarring entire sections of the vessel. And through it all, the cannons on the ship kept firing at the Simurgh’s previous position, until one by one, they burnt out. Rebecca was getting worried that she was about to witness someone’s death.

Eventually the maelstrom cleared, though. The ship still stood, burnt, scarred, and limping in the sky, but whole.

And Rebecca couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“E-Emily,” she stammered, turning to look at the Director of the Brockton Bay PRT.

Her subordinate and pseudo-friend saw her look, nodded, and then took a swig of the bottle in her hand. The thing she’d been rubbing before was a beer flask. “My brand new Ward just killed the Simurgh, Rebecca,” she announced. She looked down at her flask again and frowned. “What the hell do I do?”

Rebecca had no answers for her. She was in too much shock herself to even contemplate an answer.

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 8
Celebrate Good Times​

■​

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■​

♦ Topic: One Down (Verified) (Sticky) (The Simurgh Is Dead)
In: Boards ► Announcements
Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Posted On Feb 7th 2011:
That's it.

It's over.

I'm... I'm not going to say a speech, or beat around the bush.

The Simurgh is defeated. I... man, this is just as unreal for me as it is for all of you. But I've done my job, my duty, as a Ward, as a Hero. She won't threaten our world ever again. I...

No more capped cities. No more time bombed people. It's over. And to be respectful to the gone, even if she was a monster, I included her admittedly epic entrance in my proof.

Here. A complete video record of my battle with her and my victory.

I have a lot of repair work to do on the ship now. She stopped holding back after my first volley.

Gods. My shields were at 3% when it was all over. I..... yeah, I'm gonna need therapy, I think.

Anyways. You're welcome, everyone, I guess.

As my new friend Clockblocker would most likely say, cue the party.

Also, sorry to the mods about bypassing the forum security to post this in Announcements.

​

(Showing page 1 of 12451)

►Bagrat (The Guy in the Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Holy. Fucking. Shit.

►Nondeceptive
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Gasp Bagrat just swore!

On topic; oh my god.

►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
...

She's... she's gone. The Simurgh is gone.

I- I have to tell my wife!

►Valkyr (Wiki Warrior) (Wiki Moderator)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
This is real, right? PLEASE tell me this is REAL!

►Miss Mercury (Protectorate Employee)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
We're in chaos right now, I can't verify anything at the moment, and Reave just left the building at a dead sprint.

►DapperJumpingHat (Unverified Cape)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Good riddance. She's responsible for my girlfriend's pain.

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
I'm on my phone in a bunker right now. Is it real? Nobody down here knows, we're just waiting to be domed.

►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
...Bro

Did you just-

This better not be a joke, man. Coming from me. I'm the one saying this. Did you really-?

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@Clockblocker Yeah. She's gone.

​

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(Showing page 2 of 12451)

►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@Shipyard You.

You glorious bastard!

Of course it's real. You're that much bullshit.

...I'm just gonna sit down for a while and let it sink in that the guy I tried to timestop yesterday just beat an Endbringer, kay?

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@Clockblocker you do that. I've got things to do on my ship before I can come back out. We should be arriving back above the Bay soon, though.

►Aegis (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Wards Leader)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@Shipyard Ship, you're going to have the mother of all debreifings once you get back. And you can forget patrolling anytime soon.

But if this is real? You take your damn time. That's an order. I'll deal with Piggot if I have to. You've earned it.

And Ship? I'm proud of you.

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Aegis Yes sir.

►SpecificProtagonist (Verified Shipper)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Aww! Aegis x Shipyard confirmed OTP!

►Brilliger (Moderator: Protectorate Main)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@SpecificProtagonist This of all times is not the place for that.

With that said, given the rest of us forum PR people seem to be running around with no heads, it's up to me to do this.

Shipyard, don't worry about hacking the forums.

Because you weren't lying. This is real. Let me repeat; THIS IS REAL!

Our Thinkers have gone over the footage, and we've had a couple of jets go through the area. There's nothing left of the Simurgh. She's dead. Those jets also corroborate Shipyard's story about the shields. His ship doesn't look very good.

I can now pretty much confirm that the footage of Shipyard and The Simurgh getting into a high powered slugfest straight out of a science fiction movie is legitimate. The Simurgh lost, but not before almost erasing Shipyard's ship, and he, Dragon, and Vista with it.

I'm putting Verified on this thread until I'm told to do otherwise. I don't give a damn if I'm fired for releasing this before the higher ups cleared it and could put together a PR spin.

Because the God Damned Simurgh is fucking DEAD!

►Valkyr (Wiki Warrior) (Wiki Moderator)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
I JUS TOLD EVRYON AND THE ENTRE BUNKER IS CHERING. I'M CRYING RIGHT OW I CAN BARELY SEE MY PHOEN

►Black Honey Badger
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
I can hear the cheering from Boston!

Oh no wait, THAT'S JUST THE ENTIRE CITY OF BOSTON CELEBRATING!

►Lost Angel
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Los Angeles reporting in, the party is in full swing since the news announced it. I can't find a dry eye anywhere, not even me. The streets are filled with people!

​

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(Showing page 3 of 12451)

►Good Ship Morpheus (Moderator) (Not a Ship)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Washington here. We were hit by Leviathan, not the Simurgh, but it doesn't matter. Shipyard, you've given us hope again. Thank you.

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
You're welcome.

►Feychick
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
London, from outside the dome, reporting in! Someone broke the mandatory quarantine and broadcast into the dome. They told them.

The cheering must be amplified by the dome or something because I can hear it from my house!

►Brilliger (Moderator: Protectorate Main)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Please take the worldwide party discussion to the appropriate thread, here: Worldwide Celebration

In other news, I'm not fired yet! But only because Reave is MIA, Miss Mercury apparently triggered, the east coast is in chaos, and the whole world is cheering.

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Holy shit. He actually did it. The bastard challenged an Endbringer... and won.

This isn't that known, but I'm actually a cape. Sorry @Bagrat for sharing your spotlight with my super Thinker powers.

I'm also under threat of death to work for a villain. This is gonna sound cliche as fuck, but after seeing this and Uber and L33t's team change...

@Shipyard help me Obi-Wan Shipobi. You're my only hope.

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@AllSeeingEye are you actively under threat? If not, head to the PRT HQ. I'll discuss this with you when I arrive.

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@Shipyard Now that I've spoken out, I will be quite shortly. I don't know if I can make it to the HQ.

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@AllSeeingEye send up a signal I can see from the sky. I'll beam you to the ship.

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@Shipyard ...I'm not even surprised anymore. I have a flare gun, I hope that's enough.

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@AllSeeingEye Should be. Fire when ready, I'm above the city now, definitely in range.

​

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►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@Shipyard You're kilometers above the city and that's "in range."

Okay. That's definitely a Thinker headache.

I'm heading outside to fire the flare gun now. It's red.

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@AllSeeingEye Roger that. I'll search for red light.

►Bagrat (The Guy in the Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Did that really all just happen? What am I asking, of course it did. This is Shipyard, the Simurgh Slayer.

@AllSeeingEye Also, I always knew that you knew far too much!

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Update post for the previous rescue. I got her.

►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
That's three capes in a single day. And an Endbringer.

Jeez man, leave some for the rest of us!

(I'm totally kidding, if you feel like converting every villain in the world and taking out the rest of the Endbringers at the same time I'm totally on board with this)

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@Clockblocker I can't help it, I'm just awesome.

►Kid Win (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Awesomely bullshit.

►Shipyard (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Oh hey Kid! Where've you been?

►Kid Win (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Watching your cannons gave me a few ideas. I may have gotten carried away. I kinda need to eat right now though so bye

►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Same old Kid Win.

​

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■​

♦ Topic: Worldwide Celebration
In: Boards ► Earth
Brilliger (Original Poster) (Moderator: Protectorate Main)
Posted On Feb 7th 2011:
This is the thread to talk about the worldwide party currently going on! Also we have a new Board for things that affect the whole world like this.

​

(Showing page 1 of 30252)

►RushinRollout (Verified Ruskie)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
There's fireworks going off in Moscow! Tonight we celebrate the death of the bitch of feathers. DRINK, MY FRIENDS!

►Laotsunn (Kyushu Survivor)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Japan thanks the Master of Ships. He has engaged in honorable combat and ended our destroyer's sibling.

►Mac's Dual Rocket Propelled Grenades (Verified Redneck)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Texas has guns going off everywhere! People are shootin' at the sky and daring it to come get 'em! THE PSYCHIC CHICKEN IS DED!

►Aloha
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Oahu, Hawaii checking in. Maloha Shipyard! The ships in Pearl are firing their guns in honor of you!

►Kernel Panic
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Kentucky. KFC just announced their new special, Fried Psychic Chicken, and I couldn't be more proud of my state's stereotypes than I am right now.

►Bob (Veteran Member)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
I'm still alive! Brockton Bay is cautiously exiting our bunkers. For those of us in the know though, we're starting up the celebrations!

YOU'RE FORGIVEN FOR BLOWING OUT MY EARDRUMS EARLIER, SHIPYARD

►Grace (Verified Cape) (Wards Chicago)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Fuckin' hell, one of those assholes is finally dead. I don't think I've ever heard the city this loud.

►White Fairy (Veteran Member)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Netherlands here. This party is danke, yo.

Okay now that I've stopped stereotyping my own culture, we're fresh outta clogs. Too many bought in celebration.

►Narwhal (Verified Cape) (The Guild)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Vancouver is awesome right now. I'm even making a light show with my fields!

​

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♦ Topic: To Boldly Go
In: Boards ► Earth
Iblis (Original Poster)
Posted On Feb 7th 2011:
Now that the Simurgh is dead space is open again. And we have our resident spaceship Tinker to thank for it.

Do you think we can get back out there again? Start exploring space properly? Especially given Shipyard's existence?

​

(Showing page 1 of 3)

►Buzz Newyear (NASA)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
NASA Orbital Monitoring tech here. I'll speak for those of us left at the space agency here in Florida.

We want to. God, do we want to. But it'll be up to the President and Congress as to whether we get to. We're gonna need a lot more funding than what we have now. For the record, I don't begrudge our superiors for cutting most of what we had before The Simurgh showed up. With her in orbit, nothing we sent up was viable.

But she's gone now, and I know we're gonna petition the President to get back out there. Our buddies in the fledgling European Space Agency are on board with joint operations and we've even talked to the Cosmodrome. We are ready and raring to go.

Also, literally all of us are excited at the fact Shipyard claims his ships are starships. Most people probably don't remember the difference, but here it is in a nutshell:

The Space Shuttles were spaceships.
Starfleet's Enterprise was a starship.

If his ships can really go interstellar, we're gonna have some really interesting times ahead of us.

►GstringGirl
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Ooh! Someone from NASA!

Do you play Space Opera?

►Buzz Newyear (NASA)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Yes, actually. It's a decently fun game to waste time with while you wait on the scans of orbit to finish.

►GstringGirl
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
What's your username? If you wanna play, anyways. I'd sure love to!

►Buzz Newyear (NASA)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
I tossed ya a PM with it. Sounds fun.

►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Idiot)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Hey, don't leave me out of it!

►ArchmageEin
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Back on the original topic!

I think we should start exploring space again. At the very least, Behemoth and Leviathan aren't on other planets. And we desperately need a second home for Humanity if and when some insane Tinker's virus, bomb, or creature escapes containment or blows up the planet.

►Procto the Unfortunate Tinker (Not a tinker)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Oh come on, we're not that crazy. All Tinkers are intimately aware of just how dangerous our creations are. Not even String Theory, miss 'blow-up-the-moon', would've actually done it.

►Kid Win (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
You're not a Tinker, Procto.

That said I am totally on board with space travel again. I may not be able to understand my bullshit teammate's technology but I'll help as much as I can!

​

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(Showing page 2 of 3)

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
With space open again, I wonder if science fiction will kick back up into overdrive?

Also from what I can understand of Shipyard's technology, interstellar is underselling it.

►Space Zombie
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE

►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Idiot)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@Space Zombie Hey, why haven't you been online?!

►Space Zombie
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
XxVoid_CowboyxX Because I've got space for brainz.

►Buzz Newyear (NASA)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@AllSeeingEye What exactly do you mean when you say interstellar is underselling it?

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
@Buzz Newyear My ships have a form of FTL called Hyperdrives. When powered by the generators I am capable of creating, they can go intergalactic.

►Buzz Newyear (NASA)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
WHAT.

►Shipyard (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE) (Simurgh Slayer)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
Woops, I wasn't supposed to say that. Alexandria is yelling at me now.

...Huh, her voice patterns... Nope, I'm not making this mistake again.

►AllSeeingEye (The Girl in the Know)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
And I'm not stupid enough to say it either.

►Buzz Newyear (NASA)
Replied On Feb 7th 2011:
You're both massive teases. Do I have to come to Washington? My boss is ready to send me there to talk to you if he has to!

​

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♦ Topic: PRT Director's Open Letter (Press Release: The Simurgh) (LOCKED)
In: Boards ► Earth
Director Costa-Brown (Original Poster) (Moderator: Protectorate Main) (Verified PRT Director)
Posted On Feb 8th 2011:
From the desk of Director Costa-Brown, dated February 8th, 2011, 0031 hours:

There have been many rumors and statements flying around the internet in the past few hours. Partially due to the nature of this communication network, and partially because of some members of our organization releasing information before it was fully confirmed without a shred of doubt.

They will not be penalized for their actions.

At 1625 hours Eastern Standard Time on Februrary 7th, 2011, one of the Protectorate East-North-East's new Wards, Shipyard, unearthed the fact that the Simurgh, the Third Endbringer, was posting on Parahumans Online. We are not yet aware of how she was accomplishing this. We did not know that she could understand our language, nor that she was even truly alive.

We still are unsure about those two points.

But regardless, Shipyard detected this. He proceeded to antagonize The Simurgh by revealing her presence to the world. This lead to her choosing Brockton Bay as her, and the Endbringer's 3 month attack cycle, new target.

Shipyard will not be penalized for his actions either.

The former because of their overwhelmed state in the wake of Shipyard's proceeding actions. The latter because of what he proceeded to do.

Risking his own life and that of Dragon and Vista, by mutual agreement, Shipyard heroically challenged The Simurgh directly.

She accepted.

The three of them took Shipyard's battlecruiser into the upper atmosphere to intercept The Simurgh, a task which the three of them believed would most likely end up with them dead or twisted into time bombs. But they did it in order to save Brockton Bay. They would try to use the ship's weapons systems to drive her away, but they were prepared to sacrifice their lives by detonating the ship's power core right in her face if they had to.

Thankfully, such an extreme solution proved unnecessary.

At 1629 hours, after engaging and testing the limits of The Simurgh, Shipyard proceeded to bombard her with enough ordinance to almost entirely devastate her body. He did more damage to an Endbringer than we have ever seen.

And he forced her to reveal that she had been holding back.

We are investigating the possibility that all our previous fights against the Endbringers, the times we did enough damage to drive them off, may have been nothing more than a ruse. This is a major upset if true, but also valuable intelligence on their capabilities.

But even when she revealed her true power, still Shipyard did not falter. At precisely 1631 hours, he brought the full might of his battlecruiser to bear against the winged Endbringer.

And. He. Won.

The Simurgh is dead. This is not a plan, or a convoluted series of events. She is not hidden. She did not survive.

The Third Endbringer is gone.

We are attempting to do all we can to make sure the, as I have heard it described, "Worldwide Party" proceeds without damaging anything and with minimal casualties. Protectorate and PRT forces are coordinating with the resident militias of as many nations as we can to ensure everyone goes home after tonight. Or after this week, if what some people are saying proves true.

Please, celebrate responsibly. We have just defeated an enemy of Humanity with absolutely no loss of life and minimal damage to our infrastructure. It would be foolish and embarrassing for us to damage ourselves after such a victory.

And to Shipyard. I have already told you this privately, but as this is an open letter;

Thank you. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

The world owes you a debt we can never repay. I only hope you can pull off your miracle twice more and permanently end the other two monsters. Also, I am publicly extending my earlier invitation to you to come to Washington D.C.

We have a meeting with the President.

And, to any Villains reading this; pay very close attention to the following sentences.

If you so much as scratch Shipyard, whatever is left of you after his technology has finished decimating your corpse will be handed to the various Protectorate parahumans to do with as they wish. After they are finished, the PRT agents will have their go. Then you will be hung up in the proverbial town square and flight tickets will be provided to whoever so wishes to come desecrate your mangled, broken remains.

There are a whole lot of people worldwide who see Shipyard as a new hope Alan Gramme could have only dreamed of being. As the true successor to our sorely missed friend Hero. We will not accept another demise like his. I sincerely recommend treating Shipyard as if there is a reverse Endbringer Truce upon his person, where if you break it, the entirety of the Protectorate and many independent teams will come down on you like a sack of lead bricks.

God knows I can't stop them. More to the point, I won't even try.

-Director Costa-Brown

​

■​

♦ Topic: Boat Graveyard Tinkertech Spiders
In: Boards ► Places ► North America ► United States ► Brockton Bay
XxVoid_CowboyxX (Original Poster) (Verified Idiot)
Posted On Feb 8th 2011:
Guys I was walking back to my house from the bunker and I saw a silver spider on a boat in the Boat Graveyard. It looked like metal and Tinkertech. What's going on?

​

(Showing page 1 of 1)

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
I saw one too! It was standing on the roof of the Library!

Void's batting two for two in the same amount of days. How is this possible

►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Original Poster) (Verified Idiot)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
Hey!

►Acree
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
The entire world is partying after The Simurgh was killed and you're worried about a couple of Tinkertech bugs? Probably some new trigger from the maelstrom that spanned the sky of the East Coast.

►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Original Poster) (Verified Idiot)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
I don't know I just wanted to speak up in case they turn out to be some Simurgh plot or something.

►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
Thank you for the report, Void Cowboy.

(I never thought anyone would be thanking Void for anything, but it's pretty much a brand new world out there.)

I've logged it in our system. Please keep an eye out for any more. You too, Brocktonite.

►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Original Poster) (Verified Idiot)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
Yes sir! o7

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
Okay, will do.

►FluteGirl
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
They're probably nothing, just like Acree says.

​

End of Page. 1

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■​

♦ Topic: Anyone Seen TinMother?
In: Boards ► Staff Forum
Good Ship Morpheus (Original Poster) (Moderator) (Not a Ship)
Posted On Feb 8th 2011:
I haven't been able to get in touch with her since yesterday. She's been offline for over 24 hours. Since when is she ever offline that long?

​

(Showing page 1 of 1)

►Brilliger (Moderator: Protectorate Main)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
I'm sure she's just celebrating along with everyone else. Though her unusual downtime is concerning. We'll just have to honor her tireless efforts by taking up the slack.

►Valkyr (Wiki Warrior) (Wiki Moderator)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
Uh... Okay, A; why can I even see this forum

And B; since when am I a Mod?! Even if it says Wiki Mod, what the heck?

Oh, and uh, yes, that is somewhat concerning. She's never been offline no matter what time I tried to message her.

►Tin_Mother (Moderator)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
I'm fine guys, thanks for your concern. I was just indisposed by all the celebrations, but I'm back now! ^_^

Thanks for picking up my duties. And Valkyr, I figured you deserve the title after all you do for the Wiki.

►Brilliger (Moderator: Protectorate Main)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
They're not just your duties Tin. You just keep beating us to the punch

►Valkyr (Wiki Warrior) (Wiki Moderator)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
Good to hear you're okay, TinMother! And thanks for the Mod position, I guess. I don't really need it, but if you think it's important, I'll give you this one.

►Logs (Moderator)
Replied On Feb 8th 2011:
Welcome back, TinMother!

​

End of Page. 1

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A/N: Fixed the update, it glitched and uploaded an old version with placeholder posts.

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 9
Evolution​

Two minutes and thirty six point five seconds.

That’s how long I stared at the Lifesign Type list in my head.

I’m Lantean.

I tested the thought out once more, just to see if it made any more sense than it had for the last two minutes thirty six and a half seconds.

...Aaand nope. It still smelled like bullshit.

“I’m Lantean,” I said out loud, chuckling. “Yeah right.”

To counter this insane proposition the ship was attempting to get me to believe, three pieces of evidence stood as my pillars. One; I was born to human parents. Two; I had been human my whole life. No doctors had ever found anything wrong with me in that respect, and it was pretty much guaranteed some of the Tinkertech scanning devices they used at Brockton General would notice if I had an entirely different set of genetics.

The final, third point was the real kicker, though. I didn’t have any Alteran powers. And, heh, everyone knows that Alterans had powers. From pretty much a single year after being born. It was one of the most well known pieces of information about the Alteran species.

Healing. Telepathy. Telekinesis. Long Life.

Then the more high level abilities that were Zero Point Energy Manipulation and, eventually, Ascension.

The only powers the Alterans didn’t have were the more body-focused ones. They were very much a product of their brains and their souls. Not their physical forms. An Alteran wouldn’t be able to go toe to toe with one of our world’s most famous Flying Bricks, Alexandria, but they’d definitely be able to mindfuck her into unconsciousness.

Only in extremely, extremely rare cases did someone not manifest some of those eventually. There were a grand total of three, three! Alterans that never developed abilities in the hundreds of millions of years they'd existed as a civilization.

Three.

I had exactly none of those abilities.

Even the mental control for my ships was provided by the ships themselves. Reading my brainwaves and inserting information. I was the receiver, not the sender in that particular set of relationships. Even Humans could conceivably control Alteran craft if they had the synthetic locking gene.

Which meant some really frakking janky stuff was going on.

I turned my attention away from my mind’s eye to yell at the ceiling. “OKAY, VERY FUNNY! I DON’T KNOW WHAT OR WHO YOU ARE, BUT YOU CAN STOP PRETENDING TO BE MY SHIP NOW!”

I waited. Listening for a response, mental or otherwise.

None came.

“Fine,” I growled. I once again tuned into the Hyperion, or whatever it really was, and forced the Lantean override to get into its systems.

If this thing was going to falsely claim I was Lantean, I was gonna exploit the shit out of that.

I dove into its very being. Searched for anything and everything odd. I noticed the sloppily integrated Asgardian technology, but I’d already used it so I was aware of its presence. There were some other irregularities in the structure of the craft. Namely, it was bigger than what an Aurora should be. That extra space was filled with redundancies, drone manufacturing systems, and other things Alterans never would’ve thought to include-

Wait a second, that’s not an Alteran hyperdrive!

What the hell was a foreign hyperdrive doing grafted to the systems of an Alteran battlecruiser?

I had literally never seen the design before. Well, of course I hadn’t, but neither had my Atleran memories.

And what the fuck is that top speed?!

It… actually kinda, sorta, shared some power distribution properties with the Asgardian Transporter Beam Arrays, but… it was much, much more advanced.

What the hell had those tall gray butts been up to!?!?

Like, shit guys, the hyperdrives we left you weren’t fast enough? Damn speed demons, the lot of them! This abomination of a hyperdrive was magnitudes faster than a cityship’s Stardrive, which were renown for their speed in the first place!

To put it in perspective, Alteran hyperdrives of the size needed for an Aurora had a top speed of 300ly/s, which could skyrocket to a grand 900ly/s if fed directly from a Potentia. They could make the trip between Avalon and Pegasi in 11 hours at normal speed, and a third that time if you plugged them into the Potentia. The Atlantis cityships and their Stardrives made those look tame.

But the Asgardians had apparently decided that still wasn’t fast enough.

Anyways, aside from the insanity that was the Asgardian (presumably) hyperdrive, nothing truly felt off about the Hyperion. For all intents and purposes, the VI software of the ship was vanilla. So vanilla in fact that it was suspicious due to just how ordinary it appeared. There were no customizations. Zero. Naming it the Hyperion was literally the only change from baseline, and that was something that I had done.

No amount of checking unearthed any abnormalities in the suspiciously ordinary software, either.

What the hell. It was like someone had taken the idea of an Aurora and the software of most Alteran craft and… fixed all or most of the idiosyncrasies inherent in Alteran designs, then shoved in a bunch of Asgardian tech. Hmmm… I wonder whether this was the fault of that Shard I’d located in another reality, hooked up to my own head-

My mind snapped back to what had caused this in the first place. If the Hyperion wasn’t lying to me and was in fact just a beefed up, more-or-less vanilla Alteran ship...

OH FUCK I’M A LANTEAN HOLY FUCKING WHAT

SHIT SHIT SHIT

I panicked. I fully admit it. That is why I didn’t fully think through my actions.

First I scanned my house and my family.

They were human.

Then how the fuck was I a gods damned alien?!

I had the memories of one, sure, but that was weird power shit. Actually having my physiology changed, especially into Alteran biostructures, WAS A MUCH BIGGER PROBLEM.

I sprinted for the Genetic Manipulator. Got in. Turned on the containment field. Called up its mental interface. And set that damned thing on the deepest scans I could.

If you’re paying decent levels of attention, you might have spied the point where I totally and completely screwed this series of decisions up.

I’d examined the code of the Hyperion.

Not the Genetic Manipulator. The one that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. The extremely potent device that I’d basically run into and practically offered myself to.

Yeeeaaaaahhhhhhhh.

I found my control of the machine abruptly taken from me. I could still observe what it was doing, but a program hidden inside some of its deepest code had woken up and seized total control of every aspect of the device.

The device with the active containment field.

That I was trapped inside.

I am not ashamed to admit I panicked even further. I started slamming my fists into the containment field, screaming at the top of my lungs.

I knew what these things could do to you and I was not okay with having fifteen tentacles grow out of my face, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

But it didn’t matter. No matter how much I screamed or banged, Missy was unconscious, Dragon was offline while she transferred to her new body, and the Hyperion couldn’t do anything without also leaving me a smear on the wall as a side casualty.

So I slumped backwards, leaned against the containment field, and watched with dread as the genetic sequencing hologram extended from the top and bottom of the device to surround me.

I observed the program and noted what it was doing. The rogue system was commanding the Genetic Manipulator to do an extremely deep level scan of my genetic code.

That’s… wait, that’s exactly what I’d initially asked it to do.

Huh?

Then the program backed that scan data up in hundreds of different locations, even tossing some to the Hyperion for it to store.

Well, at least I could be happy that whatever had put the rogue program into this Genetic Manipulator didn’t want me disfigured into a horrible freak of nature without a way back.

The program finished its backup and then opened a copy of my genetic code for modification.

Okay… that’s- that’s very good. It wasn’t going to totally overwrite me with some foreign DNA. Modification had limits, even in such a device as this one. I’d have bipedal locomotion at the very least.

Also, that was definitely Lantean genetic code. I’d recognize it anywhere. My Alteran memories had been taught it in school, after all.

I also recognized what was being done to it. Specifically because it was a project in the aforementioned school that my Alteran memories had been made to do.

Unlock all higher Alteran abilities via genetic tampering. A passing grade if you succeeded. Full marks if you managed to do so stably.

Guess what my Alteran memories didn’t manage to do? Yeah, both of those. She failed that project.

Yes, she. I had the memories of an Alteran female bouncing around in my head. The only reason that didn’t give me a whopping huge torrent of gender dysphoria is because Alterans were kinda… sex-ambivalent. Oh sure, they acknowledged the physical differences, the downsides and advantages of the two sexes, but they proceeded to do nothing else. Sex, the action, for them was just reproductive in nature with a side effect of being particularly enjoyable. Sex, the chromosomal arrangement of their cells, was a descriptor. Like eye color or hair color.

Plus there’d been female gendered people in male sex bodies, and vice versa, ever since the Alterans evolved. Unfortunately the lack of caring came much later on. Genetic Manipulators were partially at fault for the Alteran’s viewpoints on the gender of the self, to be fair. Given they allowed sex swapping if you really wanted to, it would be pretty impossible as a civilization to care about gender or the physical sex of your body anymore. They discovered that gender was a mind/soul thing and had about as much link with your body as games of chance had with the concept of fate.

Linked only if you squinted or had blinders worthy of a horse on you.

I momentarily freaked out at the possibility those thoughts had brought up and checked to make sure that the program wasn’t flipping my chromosomes. Hey, my Alteran memories were sex-ambivalent. I wasn’t!

Thankfully the program seemed far more competent than my memories were. It was successfully unlocking pretty much all the abilities an Alteran could conceivably have in my genetic code and securing stability about 80% of the way to where I could Ascend. While keeping me male, even!

The reason these hyper-advanced Genetic Manipulators never really took off was because beyond that 80%, people tended to accelerate their evolution on their own. The mind overtook the body.

You either Ascended or you died, burning up as your soul seared your atoms from the face of the universe. Or, very rarely, managed to shunt yourself back to your original form in the split second between when you achieved that higher state and you ceased to exist.

All of that navel gazing was to distract myself from what was going to happen. I knew it wasn’t just modifying my genetics like this for nothing.

I was going to be transformed into a full-fledged Alteran Mage.

Just like my Alteran memories had always wished she could become. Legendary like Moros, infamous like Janus. A pioneer of the Mind like Atheles or a connoisseur of ZPEM like Ganos.

Yup, there it was. The program had finished. It error checked the modifications, something I was immensely thankful for, and when the multiple passes came back clean, it fed the new code into the Manipulator’s emission systems.

I sighed and closed my eyes to prepare myself. A change this big was not going to be pleasant.

A moment later the pain hit and I could only scream.

---

I woke up on the floor. With what felt like Mount Everest splitting my skull in half.

Ugh, what the hell hit me? I wearily thought, trying to get my bearings.

I was sprawled on something hard. Metallic. My head was lower than my legs, and I was staring at an oddly familiar ceiling.

Huh, isn’t that the standard hull pattern of an Aurora class? I asked myself absently.

Then my brain kicked back into gear.

“HOLY FUCK!” I screamed out loud, hastily backpedaling to get away from the Genetic Manipulator my legs had been lying in. I patted down my body rapidly. I was trying to find out if the process had gone wrong, if I now had deformities or something else horrifying.

One full body check later and I determined that no, I didn’t look any different. And I didn’t really feel that different either.

Whew. I let a relaxing breath escape me and closed my eyes with relief. I was okay.

Probably a fully blown Alteran Mage now, but okay. More superpowers I could deal with. Eventually.

Face tentacles, very much not.

I opened my eyes and found the Genetic Manipulator sitting there, powered down, and with such an innocent look about it I could almost see the sheepish, angelic face it was trying to give me.

I narrowed my eyes at it and proceeded to trace the path of my glare with two fingers. “I’m watching you,” I informed it warningly.

The Genetic Manipulator did nothing. A few seconds later I felt rather silly.

Brain damage or overflow from the traumatic experience of being force-evolved? On further thought, definitely overflow.

Alright, I need to find out how much time has passed, I thought. With that goal set, I attempted to contact the Hyperion mentally so I could see the ship’s clock.

What I received wasn’t exactly a gentle amount of ‘contact’.

The Hyperion reached out with the entirety of its systems for my perusal. I momentarily lost any awareness of my own body as it felt like I was the ship. It drew me in and held me fast, almost exactly the same as when I’d sat in the Throne Chair to fight Ziz. Unlike that time, though, I was able to pull myself to a lighter level of integration after a minor amount of struggle and freaking out. The awareness of my own body came flooding back and the awareness of the ship fled until they were both about halfway present.

Huh. So this is what Mages described as True Integration. My Alteran memories led me to almost squeal out loud at the fact I’d managed this until I got a handle on them.

Right, so, another point in Alteran Mage being my new existence. Yay.

I decided to get the next test over and done with so I could start handling the rest of my reality without the question in my head. I turned towards one of the tablets I had been browsing Dragon’s program on and held out my hand. I then tried to… beckon it with my mind.

Hey, it’s not like my Alteran memories were remotely helpful in this area. The Mages never really made any instruction books on the topic. Which is why instead of leisurely floating over to my hand, the tablet zipped through the air and whacked me right in the face.

“OWW!” I exclaimed, holding my hands to my now bleeding nose. “Gods fucking damn it!”

Okay. Definitely gonna need more practice at this. Mage status confirmed, though!

And my nose was broken now. Great. I’d have to have one of the Medbay’s automatic healing systems deal with it.

Unless… hmm...

“Can I heal myself?” I idly wondered out loud.

That was supposed to be one of my new abilities.

With the decision to at least attempt it, I tried to push… myself through my hands and center the feeling of peace and repair in the area around my nose.

Golden light flared from my hands and my nose cracked back into place. The bones sealed over. I was healed.

Well at least I can do THAT right!

Alright, no more testing until I can do so in a safe environment. Now how much time passed!

Five minutes.

Five.

I blinked with surprise and just a tiny bit of awe. It had taken the advanced Genetic Manipulator five minutes to force evolve me so far I gained superpowers.

Those things are fucking broken, holy shit.

Okay. Time to get my head in the game and proceed to the things further down my list than making sure my teammate has her brain cancer cured and one of the world’s most renown Tinkers gets her issues solved.

...What the hell was I doing before all of this?

…

Yeahp, I got nothing. Oh well, might as well check PHO.

…
…
…

That is a lotta comments. Shit.

Okay, okay, ass covering time while also fulfilling my duty as a Hero! and inspiring hope. Let’s see, reply there, respond to thanks with you’re welcome, chat with teammates… hey wait a second, AllSeeingEye is a cape?

I took a moment to consider that. In hindsight, it was so obvious that I felt incredibly stupid.

She’s a cape and is asking for my help because of another evil cape. What the fuck do I do? Yeah I just ‘killed’ an Endbringer but that doesn’t mean I can help her!

Get it together Will, you can do this, I tried to reassure myself.

Step one, refer her to the PRT. They can take care of her until I can oversee her hero conversion.

I think.

Send that off and-

Oh, she replied immediately. She can’t make it.

Now what?!

Uhh… Well, I did have this fancy new ship with Beaming Arrays on board. I wonder…

Ohhhh, she has something to help with that. A flare gun. Thank you AllSeeingEye, that is SO not fucking helpful! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY FIREWORKS ARE IN THE SKY RIGHT NOW!!
Calming down. I was calm. I could make this work.

What… color is this flare gun?

Red.

I grimaced and stared daggers at the wall of the Medbay.

Red. One of the primary colors of flame.

Like those aforementioned fireworks.

Fine. I’d just have to have the Hyperion scan for abnormal launch vectors. Tell her it’s fine though because can’t spook the potential new Protectorate member, no siree!

She said she’d sent the flare off. Time for the Hyperion to cry as it has to sift through a bunch of scan data for one specific variation of a firework.

How the frak did Brockton even get this many fireworks? The evening sky above the city looks like it’s glowing!

And so what if it only took the Hyperion a couple of seconds. Bite me. It was still extra work.

Grumble grumble. I should probably be at the beam in site. Given Asgardian Beams basically designated ‘anywhere’ as a potential beam in site, I got to choose the location.

It had to be somewhere suitably impressive and definitely somewhere a decent distance away from the unconscious forms of Missy and Dragon. No way was I putting her beam in site anywhere near Ziz, either. Didn’t want any signals piggybacking the array. In either direction.

The Bridge it is!

---

I sat in the Throne Chair and commanded the Hyperion to beam her up. Put her somewhere in front of me, facing out the window, I directed further.

Like a gleeful puppy my ship proceeded to do just that. The white streams of light and signature chiming sound of Asgardian Transport rang out from about five feet in front of me. A couple of seconds more and AllSeeingEye flared into existence, stretching slightly from the top down until she was fully materialized.

She was clad in a purple, skin-hugging suit. Her long blonde hair spilled out from her head. The costume, for that’s what it was, apparently didn’t have any helmet or hood. I could barely see the edges of a purple eye mask on the sides of her head. Her fists were clenched, along with other body parts, and that is the only reason my attention was drawn to her finely shaped posterior for more than a couple of seconds. I swear!

Five more seconds went by without her unclenching and I finally managed to tear my eyes away. She was cringing, her chin hunched into her neck, and a cursory look with the Hyperion’s sensors showed she had completely shut her eyes and was scrunching them as hard as she could.

Also, I recognized her.

“Tattletale?!” I burst out, jaw dropping. Tattletale was AllSeeingEye?!

...Actually, no, yeah, that kinda makes sense. She’s supposed to be some kind of Thinker and wears a costume with the Egyptian Eye of Ra on it, so AllSeeingEye as a username fits her shtick and her penchant for being a smartass.

Tattletale wasn’t currently being a smartass. Polar opposite, more like. In response to my addressing her, she jumped a little, obviously quite scared. I wasn’t sure why she was so terrified but something was doing it. It couldn’t have been me, I wasn’t scary, so maybe it was my ship?

Regardless, her clenching slowly subsided and she risked opening a single eye to take a look at her surroundings.

Then both her eyes shot wide open and her own jaw dropped. She ran up to the Bridge’s forward window. The purple-clad villainess seemed to have totally forgotten about whatever scared her in favor of staring in awe down at the cloud cover above Brockton Bay that we were steadily approaching.

I sighed, reluctantly got up, and joined her side at the window. “Nice view, isn’t it?” I asked nonchalantly, staring along with her.

“Wow,” she breathed under her breath, face still pressed to the window.

I spared a glance sideways at her face. She did have a purple mask on, as I’d assumed beforehand, which thankfully helped me still be inside the Unwritten Rules. What I could see of her face was truly attractive in a hot-girl-next-door way. Her body’s curves under her figure hugging costume didn’t disagree with her face, either, nor the well kept and almost… shiny? long blonde hair she sported.

I suddenly blinked, something occuring to me. Her facial structure, that hair, her curves… they were tickling something in the back of my mind. Had… had I met her before?

...HOLY SHIT. It clicked in my head, the memories coming to the fore, and I couldn’t help myself. I knew where I’d seen her before.

My coffee bestie was TATTLETALE?!

“LISA?!” I gasped, eyes widening.

She stilled and I abruptly got a dose of the next of my new Alteran powers. Oh shit, she thought.

She whipped her piercing green eyes towards me and glared. “How the hell do you know that name?!” she asked, before she registered my face.

...I then realized I wasn’t wearing a mask. I didn’t really even have a costume. In my rush to stop the Hyperion from destroying all the villains and threats to my safety in Brockton Bay, then the charge on the Winged Endbringer, I’d completely forgotten to fabricate anything. Not even a rudimentary mask.

Which meant she could see my face perfectly fine, no guessing required.

“Weldon?!”

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 10
The Dragons Awake​

“Lisa!” I exclaimed, still shocked beyond belief, “you're Tattletale!”

“Weldon,” she snarked back, “you're Bullshit!”

We stared at each other for a few more seconds.

“How long?” I asked her, sighing.

“Years. How long for you?”

I chuckled, closed my eyes, and shook my head with disbelief at my own words. “Less than 48 hours.”

I opened my eyes again to find a totally frozen Lisa Wilborne staring at me with... awe.

At least I hoped it was awe. Either that or she was horrified and shocked at the same time. Those tended to look the same to me.

“Less than two days,” she asked.

“Yup,” I nodded.

“You converted three villains to the good guys’ side, my sexy self included, built a starship, and killed an Endbringer… in less than two days of being a cape.” This time it was more of a statement than a question.

“Pretty much?”

Lisa stared at me for several long drawn out seconds, a blank look on her face, before she just gave up and clunked her head against the fore window. “Bullshit. Just… so much total bullshit.”

I shrugged, the feeling of being immensely pleased with myself no doubt showing on my face.

It was. Lisa held up a finger and waggled the digit, just like a parent might to their misbehaving kid. “Nuh uh. Nope. You do not get to steal my smug.”

“But I defeated an Endbringer!” I totally didn't whine, throwing down my clenched hands.

“Doesn't matter!” Lisa refuted. She closed her eyes and smiled widely. “The smug is sacred. Do not even attempt to take the smug.”

...I was actually starting to get a little worried. I might not have been old enough to drink, but Lisa definitely was (at certain places with owners that rhyme with Taultlime), and I was no stranger to watching her get drunk to forget her troubles.

Troubles that, in hindsight, probably came from her power. Whatever it was.

“How drunk are you?” I asked her flatly.

“I lost track after six,” she answered honestly, pressing her face to the window again.

“Lisa!” I scolded her.

“Bup bup bup! You of all people do NOT get to tell me whether I can or cannot do something like drinking before an Endbringer attack on the city I live in, especially after showing your own judgement's fully intact state by telling that same Endbringer to come at you, and by extension my city, bro!” she interrupted, shutting me down hard.

I grimaced and sighed. “Point.”

She waved a hand in the air a bunch, obviously intoxicated, and tried to indicate my ship. I think. “Also whatever you got on this tub that made my power shut up is letting me relax for the first time in a long time,” she informed me. A small bit of gratitude colored her words. “You're lucky I can stand up. Also, I want one.”

Tub? Seriously? I was offended on behalf of shipkind everywhere.

I didn't notice it just then due to being brand spanking new to my Alteran abilities, but someone, somewhere agreed. Only in hindsight would I even remember the tiny ZPE-powered telepathic carrier wave.

“What, a ship?” I asked, appalled. I stressed the last word to get the point across about how displeased I was with her nickname for a starship.

Lisa tilted her head to the side, still pressed against the window, and pursed her lips. “I was talking about the thing that made my power shut up, but now that you're offering…” she trailed off.

She'd completely ignored my irritation. “I'm not!” I refuted.

The blonde villainess once more continued on as if she'd never heard me. “'Mmm, yeah. You know what? That does sound like adequate payment for making me experience literal pants-shitting terror!” She laughed hysterically at the end of the second time she'd shut me down. “Thanks for thinking of me, buddy!

“I'm not giving you a ship, Lisa!”

Lisa huffed. “I don't see why you're being difficult about this. It's just a ship.” She turned her face to mine, started trembling her lips, pouted, and made her eyes go wide. “Pwease?”

I hissed and shut my own eyes before I could be affected further.

Hot girl plus puppy face equals completely whipped Weldon. And she knew it. “Damn it.”

---

I sighed, closed my eyes, and rubbed my forehead. “Which one do you want, Lisa?” I asked.

The puppy face abusing villainess and I were standing in one of the hangar bays. This particular one was the backup Jumper bay, somewhere just down and right of what probably looked like the bridge if you stared at the Hyperion head on, but was actually the primary comms array.

“Hmmm,” Lisa mused, her eyes drunkenly roving over the bay. Her finger was on her chin and tapping away as she spun around. “I think I'll take… that one.”

I followed the line of her now extended finger with my eyes, locating an entirely bog-standard Puddle Jumper sitting next to its fellows. I looked back to Lisa and raised an eyebrow.

“Any particular reasons why?”

“Nope!” Lisa announced, grinning wide. “I have no information, no reasons, no data on why that one is better than all the others, and it's amazing!” She sounded very, very happy to be… rid of her powers, I guess?

What even were they? She was supposed to be some kind of Thinker, last time I checked PHO’s theorist sections. “Right…” I commented, trailing off. “Well, once we get you into the Protectorate, I'll give you that shuttle.”

“The Protectorate?” she asked, guffawing. “Wow, you really don't know what's gonna happen now, do you?”

I raised an eyebrow and looked askance at my new tag along. “Obviously not, so if you'd care to enlighten me, Your Intelligence?” I asked sarcastically.

Lisa beamed at me and laid her hands on my arm, one over the other. She leaned in close as I studiously ignored her torso's fairly... obvious curvature enwrapping my trapped limb. “The Protectorate has been the 800 pound gorilla of Bet for a long time, Weldon, and even their best working together couldn't defeat an Endbringer.”

“So what?” I asked, still not understanding. I blamed my teenage hormones and drunk Lisa's curves for that. As is my right.

“You killed one, Weldon, and solo,” she continued, almost whispering. “800 pound gorilla? You just eclipsed the PRT, you eclipsed the Protectorate, you even overshadowed your own Wards team. All combined.” Her eyes looked like there were fireworks going off in her brain. She clung even tighter to my arm, almost wrapping her… body around me. “People are gonna be trying to join your team. Shipyard’s Hero Squad! The Triumvirate? Who're they? I wanna be on the team of the guy who killed the Bitch of Feathers!”

With a nuzzle of my shoulder, Lisa placed her head in the crook of my neck and sighed happily. “Nobody's gonna remember the Protectorate in a hundred years Weldon, but Shipyard isn't… gonna… be….. for……. gotten…..….” she finished, trailing off.

I was stunned. That- that couldn't be right. I didn't really do that much! I- I didn't deserve such… honor! No way, nuh uh, this was Lisa screwing with me again.

...A suspiciously, suddenly quiet Lisa. The woman who doesn't know when to shut up.

When she didn't say anything else for a few more seconds I got worried. I chanced a look down at her and was ready to ask her to continue.

That… wasn't going to happen.

I now had a passed-out-drunk ex-villainess attached to my arm like a limpet. Said woman was causing me to have difficulty thinking due to the subconscious rerouting of blood to certain areas in response to an attractive woman pressing herself into me like this.

I sighed and shook my head. “Damn it, Lisa. Even asleep you still screw with me.”

Comfy, my telepathy unhelpfully allowed me to hear coming from Lisa's dream. Mmmmm...

...Nope. Nope nope nope! Maybe when I'm older but not right now THANKS BRAIN! I am literally jailbait!

I proceeded to gingerly pry her off of my arm. Slow going, that- the woman had some damn strong grip despite not being a Brute. But I eventually managed it.

And... shit. I missed you, sinking feeling of dread in my stomach.

Lisa was a Parahuman. That means she had the brain tumors. And she wasn't Alteran or Lantean, which I was assuming was the reason my tumors hadn't and still weren't expanding, so…

I scanned her brain via the Hyperion’s sensors and found that yes, she was having a similar reaction to that of Missy.

Everybody loves brain cancer!

Right, time to go. I heaved Lisa up from the pile of hastily assembled pillows I'd laid her down on the floor in, gently, and instructed the Hyperion to beam us to the Medbay.

I just hoped Missy or Dragon were finished. It'd been half an hour, right?

---

The chiming, ringing sound and white light caused us to switch locations. I ended up in the Medbay with an unhappy Ward staring me down, arms crossed and literally tapping her costumed foot.

“Weldon, why do you have Tattletale in your arms?” she asked flatly.

Uh oh. She was speaking in The Tone again.

I refuse to admit I gulped.

“H-Hi Missy,” I greeted her, forcing a smile on my face. “How are you feeling? Any numbness in your extremities?” While I performed this falsely chipper meet and greet I was carrying Lisa over to one of the medical beds.

“I don't feel like space itself is making me have a hangover anymore if that's what you're asking,” she deadpanned, playing along, “and my extremities feel okay. Why do you have Tattletale in your arms?”

I winced, laying Lisa's prone, skintight suit clad body down on the medical bed. “Funny story that,” I informed my teammate. “She contacted me on PHO asking for what is essential sanctuary from another villain who was apparently threatening her life to force her to work for them. I couldn't just hang someone out to dry like that,” I explained.

I turned around and was witness to the storm cloud that had replaced Missy’s cute face. The cute storm cloud. “I did originally tell her to go to the PRT, Missy, but she said she wouldn't make it there now that she'd asked,” I defended myself. “So I beamed her up.”

Missy studied my face for any signs of deceit for several more moments before sighing and dropping her crossed arms. “Only you, Weldon, could kill an Endbringer and recruit three villains in the same day,” she complained.

Opportunity Get. Should I do it? Missy was obviously quite irritated with me and she did just use her Tone with me…

But the joke was worth it. I stuck a thumb over my shoulder at Lisa and grinned. “That’s what she said.”

“I bet,” Missy snarked back. She scowled at my joke and even stuck her tongue out at me a little.

Being the fully mature teenager and teammate I totally was, I proceeded to do the older, proper thing.

I stuck my tongue out at her right back.

The gentle ringing sound of something on the other side of Missy interrupted us before we could get into another epic Wards duel. I leaned to the side in order to glance past my costumed teammate’s body.

That ringing was an Alteran equivalent of a beeping notification. It was coming from the medical table I'd laid Dragon's new body down on.

My eyes shot wide open and almost sprinted past Missy. “She's done!” I exclaimed.

“Who's done?” my costumed teammate asked, her head tracking me even as I dashed over to the bed where a young woman lay, asleep. “Her? Who's that?”

I brought up the holographic control systems for that particular bed and began aiding the AI in waking up. Even with all the work I had done on converting her code and ensuring maximum compatibility there were quite a few mismatches between her and the systems Asurans were designed to run. Given I was trying to keep Dragon as Dragon as possible that meant I needed to do modifications of the nanites instead. “Dragon, of course!” I replied. I took a single moment's attention off the nanite reconfiguration to wave over her new body.

“Dragon. Right,” Missy deadpanned. She stepped closer, presumably so she could watch what I was doing over my shoulder. Or rather around my arm. She was too cute/short to see above my middle back. “The Artificial Intelligence.”

New Missy Tone for the categorization books; Disbelieving Deadpan.

I sighed and rested my hands on the table where Dragon's new body lay for several moments. “I know you don't believe me. Still. Somehow. So just wait until I'm finished here and you can hear it from.her own mouth, shall we?” I asked my doubtful teammate.

A few moments of silence passed.

“Fine,” Missy said. She crossed her arms and began slowly tapping her foot. “I'm waiting.”

I let out a breath of relief and nodded to her. “That's all I can ask.” Then I turned my attention back to the nanite reconfiguration process.

This could take a few minutes.

---

“Aaaaannnddddd… done!” I exclaimed. I gleefully hit the button that would finalize my changes and begin Dragon's full boot up, then wake up sequences.

“Finally,” Missy remarked.

“Hey, reconfiguring nanites that are designed to run a specific kind of AI system to work for an entirely different kind of AI system isn't easy!” I informed her, slapping the table twice. “Now this body can hold all of Dragon's code without issues.”

“Uh huh.”

A sudden gasp for air drew both of our attentions from the impending argument. I looked over to the interrupting sound's direction.

Dragon was awake.

She was still lying flat on the table, but her eyes were open and the breathing simulation was causing her chest to rise and fall.

Good!

“Hi Dragon,” I greeted her, moving over to stand next to her table again. “How are you feeling?”

Her eyes locked on to my form like tracer bullets. I had to admit, the raw panic in them hurt.

“It's okay. You're fine. You're safe,” I began to comfort her. I placed a hand on her shoulder and began rubbing, massaging her stress away. Or at least attempting to; it's what my mom always did.

Dragon tensed up at the, I assume, sudden sense of touch that made itself present to her mind. After a few seconds she managed to release that tension, though.

It seemed massages helped any species, even Asuran.

“Like I said, you're safe,” I repeated. “You do probably feel a bit weird or something. That's… pretty normal, all things considered.”

She furrowed her eyebrows at me and blinked. What? my telepathy picked up.

I blinked that time. Alteran telepathy worked with AI?

...Since fucking when?!

Nope, nope, that wasn't important right now. Dragon needed my help to acclimate. I could deal with my own problems later.

“Can you speak?” I asked her. It was rather important to test that. If she couldn't, I had done something very, very wrong and needed to fix it asap.

Thankfully my worries were unfounded. “I seem to be able to,” Dragon said. Her mouth moved correctly to form the words. There were no raspy wisps nor undertones of synthetic qualities. All systems on that seemed to be go.

And her voice was quite pleasant to the ear, too. Like a strong melody.

“Good. Now, before we try to get you to move, what is your last memory?”

Her eyes went glassy for several seconds before she gasped again, their focus returning. This time they were angry and zeroed in on mine. “You shot me!”

I grimaced at the same time as the thankfully quiet till now Missy began snickering. “Okay, yes, I shot you. With a disruptor. But it was for your own sake!”

“How does shooting the only adult hero help her?!” Dragon fired back. Her limbs began twitching as she desperately tried to start getting up. Probably to do something bad to me.

What I said next stopped her attempts at movement cold. “When they're an AI built by people from a world who have fear of synthetic life and thus are likely to install kill switches in any that get created that might activate should they be discovered,” I intoned solemnly.

Dragon didn't move. Even her breathing simulation paused.

Missy stopped snickering. She first looked at me with disbelief. Then, when Dragon continued to be silent, she stared at her.

Silence reigned for several more moments.

“How did you know?” Dragon whispered.

“Your suit didn't have a body inside it and all communications from the outside in were completely and totally isolated,” I explained solemnly. “There was only one logical conclusion.”

Dragon closed her eyes and clenched her fists. The coordination of her hands was tremulous at best, but it was working. She was clearly beginning to learn to pilot her new body.

She turned her head away from me and sighed. “What will you do with me?” she asked. Her tone was that of a woman who'd accepted death. “Kill me?”

Welp, time to crash that pity party. “Now why the hell would I do that?!” I asked her, lightly whacking her on the shoulder. “I didn't go through all the trouble of custom building a new body for you, ripping out any kind of control code, and stuffing you inside just to get rid of you!”

Dragon's head whipped round and she stared at me with shock. “I'm sorry, what did you say?”

I poked her in the forehead and lowered my face towards hers. “Review your memory. You heard me correctly.”

Another millisecond of unfocused eyes gave her the confirmation I was telling the truth. Those same eyes went wide as she started to raise her arms. She brought her shaking hands up towards her vision and proceeded to marvel at them, turning them this way and that.

“See?”

Dragon looked at her hands for several more seconds before she glanced at me again. Her eyes were starting to leak tears.

Because of course I included full organic simulation in her new body. Including tear production. Nothing but the best for one of our world's greatest heroes!

She only managed to ask one thing. “H-How?”

I smirked and gestured to her old frame on the other table in the Medbay. “Your systems were mighty impressive, I'll give your creator that, but even Tinkertech can be breached by Alteran cyber warfare systems,” I began to explain. “Once I took a look at your code, which by the way is beautiful,” cue simulated blush and a startled jump from Dragon as she realized she was blushing, “I found out that there was a highly interconnected system inside of you. It was called Iron Maiden. Hidden from you and accessible from the outside. It allowed total control of you and even could lobotomize you. I could've spent the time necessary to remove it from you the normal way, but I figured ‘eh, what the hell, she'll probably enjoy having a proper body’ and thus I moved you to this specifically configured Asuran form. In the process Iron Maiden was destroyed. It was clearly a patch job by whoever made you in the first place. I'm of the opinion that you were made inside a Tinker fugue and that the Tinker couldn't summon one from their external biocrystal processing center to lock you down which is why the Iron Maiden systems were less robust and-”

Dragon cut me off by putting a hand on my arm. Her tears were definitely present now. “Thank you,” she whispered, smiling.

Happy tears and happy smile on AI woman's face? Check! Go Weldon, Go! Go Weldon, Go!

“Sorry,” I apologized. “When I get going sometimes, I ramble.”
Dragon shakily shook her head. Her long brown hair trailed her head like the tail of a comet. “Don't apologize. You-” she choked up, a fresh wave of tears flowing from her eyes, “you don't know how much this means to me.”

I cracked a smile and gently pulled her in for a hug. “Your body is now made out of billions of nanites. Don't go gray goo on the world and we'll call it even?” I joked.

Dragon accepted the hug and laughed. “I'll try not to,” she joked back, continuing to chuckle even as I held her.

Enter my teammate.

“Holy shit, he was telling the truth?!” Missy exclaimed, seemingly out of nowhere.

Took her long enough. She had been in this funk ever since Dragon woke up. The space warper… ex-space warper, that is, hadn't said a word while I conversed with the newly awakened AI.

Said woman nodded in my arms. “Weldon's telling the truth, Missy. I'm an AI.”

“...Bullshit!”

I gestured over to Dragon's old chassis with my free hand. “You're free to check her suit for a body if you somehow still think I'm lying.”

A moment later I caught myself and looked down at the bedridden Dragon. “Uh, if that's okay with you, that is.”

Dragon chuckled and nodded. “It's fine,” she agreed, providing permission. “I'd open it for you but I don't have a connection to it anymore.”

I waved my hand while I mentally directed the Hyperion to enter the suit systems and force it open. Or rather, what little amounted to ‘open’ for a suit filled to the brim with hardware.

The chest cavity of the suit whirred for a second or two, then the head folded up and back while the chest split in two and folded out. Beneath the two plates of metal and circuitry was more of that same metal and circuitry, just in completely solid and blocky form. It was also clearly part of the suit.

The head was empty, thankfully. Otherwise I doubt Missy would've believed me.

My space warping teammate took a few steps towards the suit. She sat the empty head and block circuitry.

Then she stood ramrod straight and turned around.

Her face was pale. “Holy shit. You're an AI,” she helpfully informed Dragon.

Another musical laugh from Dragon rang out in the Medbay. “We did say that. Didn't we?” She looked up at me and held out her hand, placing the other under her back. She was trying to pull her torso up so she could sit on the table.

She was stubborn. I had to give her that.

And my help, of course. While Dragon and Missy went back and forth on how downright shocking the former's status as a synthetic intelligence was, I helped pull her new body up into the sitting position she desired.

“Thank you, Weldon.” Ah, cheerfulness. Music to my ears.

No more kill switches and a fancy new body tend to do that for a person.

Moments later the Hyperion informed me that we had arrived back above the PRT building in Brockton Bay. “We're back at Brockton,” I interrupted the two girls.

I received blank stares for my efforts. “Back?” Missy asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Why did we leave in the first place?”

I stared at my teammate. Had the surgery given her some brain damage?

“I thought it might be a good idea to engage the Simurgh somewhere further away than inside the city limits,” I deadpanned. “A good thing I did, too, because otherwise the Bay, Boston, and probably New York would be glass right now.”

Their blank stares turned worried. Well, worried on Dragon's part. Horrified on Missy’s. Horror counts as a type of worry, right?

“What the hell does that mean?!” Missy burst out.

“I unloaded so much ordnance to remove her from the sky that it caused a firestorm that almost lit the atmosphere on fire,” I continued informing them.

Dragon's eyebrows shot so high they almost flew off her face.

“WHAT?!” That was Missy again.

“Didn't I mention this?” I asked. I was pretty sure I had.

“NO!”

I grimaced and sighed. “I've gotta pay more attention to the things I say and the things I think I said,” I mumbled to myself. “Airtight, sorry. I had to fire every one of the Hyperion's ten thousand drone magazine at the Simurgh. If we'd been any lower than 20 miles, the Bay would be cooked. As it is I imagine the CEO of Medhall’s eyebrows are rather singed.”

Missy's race lost what little blood it had left. She then toppled backwards, her eyes rolling up into her head, as she fainted away.

She would've hit the floor hard if not for my quick, hopefully discreet and woefully unguided attempt at slowing her fall with my brand spanking new telekinesis.

I walked over to check on my teammate. She was fine. My telekinetic grab had worked.

Also, Missy had finally stopped berating me and my decisions. Yeah, it took her fainting to accomplish that, but it was still a win in my books!

...Frankly I was just happy no more tablets were hitting me in the face.

“Ten thousand,” Dragon stated flatly.

I shrugged and lifted Missy in my arms. She was surprisingly light. By that I mean that she should have a significant level of muscle mass given her… our, now, lifestyle.

Not that she was fat.

I wasn't stupid enough to tempt Murphy that hard even in my own head. The only people in the ship besides me were all women.

Including Ziz.

I gently placed Missy down on the same medical table which had performed her surgery. It already was configured for her comfort.

See, Murphy? This is me not taunting you!

“Yep, ten thousand,” I answered Dragon.

“These are, for reference, the same Drones you informed me and the PRT about earlier today?”

“Yup.”

“The nuclear-level, phase shifting, self guiding, international nightmare causing weapons.”

“Indeed.”

“It took you ten thousand of those weapons to kill the Simurgh,” Dragon continued, still summarizing and restating my actions. For some reason.

“And a lot of volleys from every primary cannon on the Hyperion,” I informed her. Purely to ensure she had the correct information.

“Holy fucking shit.”

I turned back to her, surprised. “Did you just swear, Dragon?” I asked her in shock. “I've literally never heard you swear before!”

“This situation deserves it,” she pointed out.

I shrugged. “If you say so. Anyways, while Missy is talking a nap, there are a few things we need to go over about your new body.”

Dragon stared at me, then slowly crossed her arms. “We're coming back to the drones thing later,” she declared.

“Aight.”

The brown haired, green eyed woman continued to stare at me.

I stared back at her. Patiently.

I was actually posting on PHO, but she didn't need to know that.

Eventually she sighed. “Okay. What do I need to know?” She raised a hand to look at it and turned it back and forth. “I assume this is Tinkertech. What kind of maintenance do I need?”

I broke out into a gigantic grin. “Your body is, again, made up of billions of nanites. They work together as a supremely advanced computer system. You likely have more processing power than the Hyperion now. You also have an effective ‘Brute: Fuck You’ rating due to the fact your nanites can absorb any and all forms of energy. Kinetic, thermal, radiation, doesn't matter; all fuel for you. There is still one thing which you are now vulnerable to that you wouldn't have been before. Your nanites use Keyron pathways to link together. There is a form of energy weapon which can disrupt those bonds, rendering your nanites, and you, inert. But don't worry about that because I'm the only one with that technology and I don't plan on telling anyone else, ever, about it. I recommend you don't either. You can also change your appearance to whatever you like and mimic the outputs of a human body if you so wish,” I explained, admittedly taking a long jaunt into rambling territory. “And for the record? It's not Tinkertech.”

Dragon stared at me, her mouth hanging open and her held up hand limp, for several seconds. Her gobsmacked look was fantastic.

“What.”

“Sorry, do I need to talk slower?”

“What.”

---

Calming Dragon down took a long time. Evidently she wasn't ready for an information dump of that magnitude. Or as she called it, ‘that much complete bullshit’.

She did end up believing me. It took me explaining the science behind Keyron particles, how they could be formed into quantum locking/communications pathways, and how the nanites are built to get to that point, but it's hard to keep disbelieving something if the evidence is staring you right in the face and you can understand it.

Once she'd verified that I wasn't full of crap, she revealed that she was the one who ran the Birdcage, the PRT Containment Zones, as a whole lot of other really really important things.

Things which, without a connection to the outside world, she couldn't control.

I wasn't about to let the isolation shield down while Ziz was still unaccounted for. We came up with the obvious solution; I'd beam her down.

Served as a good messenger to the PRT too. Specifically Director Piggot.

So I bade her farewell and beamed her down into Piggot’s office. Not before she hugged and thanked me again, though.

Dragon's hugs are nice.

Anyways, that was a few minutes ago. I'd started and finished some experiments with the isolation shield. I found that I could erect independent isolation shielding around any room in the ship.

The Medbay and the lab I'd deposited Ziz in were now both protected by their own isolation shields.

With them in place I felt comfortable dropping the primary isolation shield.

The Hyperion followed my commands and suddenly, non-directed communication with the outside world was reestablished.

...That's a lot of radio signals.

Just as suddenly, the portals in my brain reopened. Being Alteran as I now was, I could feel he violations of spacetime very thoroughly.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

But then I connected back to the biocrystal. A flood of happy, joyful feelings at being reunited flowed down thugs connection to me.

[ELATION!]

It was like a puppy happy to see its owner again. I couldn't help but smile and send those feelings back, alongside some of [ACCEPTANCE].

Hey, the tumors weren't dangerous to me.

And I'd always wanted a dog.

I instructed Hyperion to open its own trans reality portal for observation of the biocrystal being hooked up to my brain.

Puppy or not, I was going to keep an eye on it. Maybe even because of its behavior.

...Wow. It'd been busy.

The biocrystal being now spanned its entire solar system. All the way from Mercury out to Pluto, massive strands and lattices of crystalline flesh connected every planet and moon like the universe’s largest spiderweb.

Looked like it was starting to branch out around the system in a sphere, too.

[APPROVAL] I sent it.

[ELATION][GRATITUDE] I received back.

Seems like I got a smart one of whatever the things giving humanity ‘powers’ were.

...Cool!

As I took a long, good look at the now system-spanning monstrosity of biological crystal attached to my brain via trans reality portals, one word came to mind. Barely remembered, as if in a dream. Like something I'd heard before in passing. And yet… at the same time some instinct of mine was almost screaming at me that this was vitally important.

That one word? Worm.

Nothing else came no matter how much I looked for it within my mind. The sense of extreme urgency had faded too. An inquiry whet as much context as I could provide my hitchhiker returned the conceptual equivalent of a shrug. It didn't know either.

Huh.

Oh well, I'd figure it out soon enough.

A hail came in from Dragon, interrupting my concentration.

That was quick.

“Hi Dragon!” I greeted her after accepting the hail. “Why did you call me so fast-?”

I trailed off when my eyes landed on the transmission. Specifically, its occupants. Three of the seven people standing in Director Piggot's office.

Dragon, of course.

Director Piggot herself. She didn't look so good. I would've wondered why if my eyes hadn't found the visor of the third person.

Alexandria.

“Weldon, we need to talk,” the black clad heroine stated.

I'm not remotely ashamed to admit I gulped nervously.

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 11
Revelations​

I gulped. That was Alexandria standing there. Glaring at me.

My superior… and one of the scariest women on the planet. “H-hi, Alexa-” I began.

Her glare intensified.

I swallowed and grimaced slightly. Okay, so I wasn’t exactly on her Christmas list. “Uh, ma’am. Hello ma’am,” I corrected myself. “How’s things?”

“Shipyard,” she began, and it was most definitely a beginning, “did you fire ten. thousand. NUCLEAR. WEAPONS. ON US SOIL?!”

Yeah. She was mad. I winced and hesitantly answered her. “...Yes?”

Her only response was to silently fume.

“...In my defense, we were way higher than normal airspace and I had to take out the Simurgh somehow,” I reasonably spoke up.

“TEN. THOUSAND!”

I crossed my arms and mock glared at the image of my superior. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Alexandria looked mad as hell for a few more seconds… and then she wilted, what I could see of her face slackening. I got the feeling I was being shown something she rarely showed anyone.

Those eyes… they held something I’d never seen her display before, except at the very start of her career. All the shows I'd watched after that, all the photoshoots, all the battles, Alexandria was always tough, stern, and resigned.

...Shush, I was a bit of an Alexandria fan. She was the closest my world had to Superman.

You know, the old comic that never lifted off? Beacon of Hope and all that?

...Pun unintended.

Anyways, not this time. Her eyes were different this time.

Not grim acceptance, not dead ends to the world.

No. For the first time she was like her, if not namesake, conceptual predecessor.

Hope.

That’s what she was displaying.

A tiny amount of it, sure, but it was present. More in her eyes than anywhere else, and something you could only see if you were looking straight into them. Like I was, right then, across the communications channel between Hyperion and the PRT HQ below me.

And yes, she was wearing her visor. The one that blocked her eyes.

But it only blocked them from normal people vision.

Normal people vision is for suckers. I have a gods damned starship, you really think I’m gonna let myself be stuck with normal people vision?

Hyperion was entirely capable of scanning her face and overlaying it on the screen. In fact, I had it actively doing so.

Only her eyes, though. I respected the unwritten rules enough to not blow her secret identity to kingdom come. Even to one of her underlings who’d just soloed an Endbringer.

It would be her choice, just as it was mine to sign up for the Wards and thus make the PRT higher ups aware of who I was.

All part of the job. Being a hero, that is.

"You're right," she finally continued. "It did. You… Shipyard, how?"

I grinned, winking at her. "Liberal application of sufficient firepower?"

I heard Assault's distinct cackle in the background. And Battery smacking him, if his 'Hey!' was any indicator.

Alexandria smirked, snorting. "We need to debrief you," she began.

Then my direct superior spoke up, reminding me that she was present on this call too. I'd forgotten; Alexandria was kind of an all encompassing presence. "And I'm very interested in where Vista is," she pointedly stated.

I winced. "Uhm, yeah, about her..." I trailed off, worried.

Piggot leaned forward and glared at me. "Shipyard. Where. Is. She."

I held my hands up, frantically waving her off. "She’s fine, she’s fine!" I insisted. I sheepishly rubbed the back of my head. "But… uh… well she’s in the Medbay-"

Piggot cracked her pencil. "WHAT."

"Like I said, she’s fine!" I repeated, slightly hysterical. "Better than fine, even!"

Piggot grit her teeth. "SHIPYARD!"

I sighed, collapsing back into the bridge's command throne. "Long story short, my ship has a secondary shielding system which disables Parahuman powers while inside it."

Alexandria's eyes widened. Piggot narrowed hers. "...And?"

I grimaced, rubbing my temples. "Turns out Vista's sense of space is tethered to her power. She was getting sick. My Medbay is equipped to solve the problem, but she needs to rest and recover under observation."

All of that was true. Her sense of space was tethered to her power, she was getting sick, and she was in the Medbay. And she did need further rest and observation, even!

None of these things were necessarily linked, but I'd found that when you absolutely have to fib, it's better to let conclusions be formed on their own. That way you aren't actually fibbing, merely not putting out as much effort as you could to correct someone.

It also helped train people to be more accurate with their questions, a pet peeve of mine.

And I did have to occlude the truth, at least for now. The source of Missy's and Lisa's downward health spiral had been the brain tumors through which the biocrystalline Shardling interfaced with my brain, only in theirs, and they grew out of control once disconnected, unlike mine.

It was likely Missy and Lisa both had a Shardling, but I had no guarantee theirs was anything like mine.

Mine was a friendly puppy.

Theirs might be bloodthirsty conflict junkies.

...Or something similar.

And yes, I had no definitive proof of this. I could very well be wrong, hell, I hoped I was.

But I'd had just as much proof for Dragon's chains, and look how that turned out.

No, until I could examine these things on my own, this would have to remain my secret.

Piggot closed her eyes, sighed, then glared at me pointedly. “Is she safe?”

I nodded decidedly. “Probably safer up here than anywhere on the planet, honestly,” I elaborated, “given the whole shields and giant guns thing.”

The director grimaced, but accepted it. “We need to debrief you,” she declared, repeating Alexandria’s previous words.

I nodded my acceptance and stood from my Throne. “Should we do that down there, or do you want to come up?” I asked.

Several people looked surprised. “Come up?” Piggot asked. “Do you have enough shuttles?”

I turned my mental attention to the hangar bay. Let’s see… does sixty four shuttles count? I snorted.

“Something funny?” Alexandria deadpanned.

“I have sixty four shuttles in the Hyperion’s main hangar alone,” I informed her. “Yes, I have enough.”

“You are the only one who can operate them, however,” Armsmaster pointed out.

I nodded, frowning. “Right.” I then shrugged and tilted my head to the side. “Oh well, I’ll just have to beam you all up!”

Alexandria’s eyebrows really needed to stop attempting to hit escape velocity. “Beam us up?” she asked, clearly amused despite herself.

Assault was snickering in the background, and at the very least so was Dennis… if I was remembering their particular snickering patterns correctly.

I looked to Alexandria and grinned. “Yup. The Hyperion has Asgardian Beam Arrays. They can transport everyone up here.”

“Transport,” Alexandria repeated. “As in, the theoretical transportation technology imagined by science fiction writers ala Roddenberry?”

My grin widened. The fact that Alexandria even knew of Star Trek was lighting up my nerd circuits brighter than a surge of electricity. “Yep. Just like that. Beam me up, Weldon!”

The reference fell flat on the rest of the room.

Alexandria though… she got it. “I share Doctor McCoy’s worries about the safety of such a technology,” she declared, crossing her arms. “And the technology has the small issue that it might not be you, or me, who walks out the other side.”

My eyes widened and my smile turned positively gleeful. The only way Alexandria knew about that was if she had watched the show. Watched Star Trek.

Alexandria was a Trekkie.

My life was complete.

“Shipyard?” she asked pointedly, smirking at my glee.

I froze, looking like a deer in the headlights. A moment later I shook myself and tried to get my serious face on. “Oh no, it’s perfectly safe,” I assured her. “Your body is disassembled into its constituent quarks and then transmitted via a subspace pathway up to the ship. There it is assembled back with a 100% accurate recreation. This allows your soul to link back up to it, thereby solving the ‘are you actually you’ problem.”

No words came across the commlink for a few seconds. Many of the people in the office were… understandably quite stunned. The technology was impressive.

“...My soul,” Alexandria asked flatly.

“Yes, your actual self on a slightly higher layer of our reality.”

More stunned silence.

“...You know that exists for a fact?” she finally managed.

“Sure do! Alterans cracked Soul Science a while ago.”

Alexandria stared at me for a long time. Finally, she nodded, slowly, and reached out to some button on the monitor they were using to see me. “Give us a moment to discuss, please.”

“Okay!”

The transmission cut off. I pointedly and politely ignored the yelling that erupted in the office that Hyperion picked up.

I also ignored it when the PRT building went on Master/Stranger lockdown.

I even paid no attention when several high level energy blasts, including one kinetic, hit Dragon's new body. She could take care of herself.

I was about to have my ship pull up some classical music to ease the wait when something I couldn't ignore occurred.

A trans reality portal tried to scoop up Dragon. It failed, of course, I'd been smart enough to include anti teleportation systems in her new body, but it was a sign that somebody had decided to escalate.

Welp, no more waiting, I supposed. My friend was in danger.

And if what Lisa had said was correct, that I was the new 800 pound gorilla of my world… I didn't see anybody trying anything too bad on me.

So I could easily go down there and solve whatever misunderstanding was taking place!

They probably just weren't used to Dragon being able to show up in person, that's all.

…Better to be safe than sorry, though. Maybe some villains had missed the fireball that reached across the East Coast.

Low chance, granted, but at least possible.

I had Hyperion beam a Personal Shield, Sidearm, and Porta Disruption Emitter into my hands. The shield went on my chest, activated, and I felt a slight tingle across my skin that indicated it was fully online. The sidearm attached to my hip via the same effect the Shield used to stay on my shirt, and finally the brick like metal cube that was the Emitter went on my left shoulder, like a badge.

I was kitted out like an Alteran security officer. Only thing missing was the uniform.

Should I?

...Nah. Save that for later.

“Hyperion, put me down behind Director Piggot’s desk,” I commanded my ship out loud.

There really wasn't a reason to do that; I had to give the command mentally anyways.

But it was fun, so bite me.

The musical chime of the Asgardian transporter flared around my body and all I saw for a few moments was light.

Then I was standing behind the wooden desk of my local PRT Director.

Said Director was hiding behind it. She had her back to the desk and her head down. Her pained grimace and the fact she was holding her side informed me that something bad had happened.

I took a glance around the room before I ducked down beside her.

“Director,” I greeted my superior, grinning.

Piggot's eyes snapped wide open and focused on me. “Shipyard?” she asked wearily.

“Yeah, it's me.” A thunderous BOOM shook the building. “Know why Alexandria is fighting Dragon?”

Piggot shook her head, hissing as pain crossed her features. “Alexandria declared M/S protocols and attacked her.”

I frowned. That didn't make sense. I'd told her that Dragon was Dragon, after all. “Okaaay, and why aren't the others backing her up?”

I meant Dragon. Despite how nebulous my question was, the Director understood. “Dragon is supposed to be an invalid,” she stated flatly.

I blinked. “She was,” I revealed. Well, somewhat revealed. Dragon certainly didn't have a body to use before, so that counted, right? “I healed her.”

Piggot winced again, pushing into her side. I was starting to get worried about her. The pale skin and slightly weary look of her didn't help. “She remote pilots her suits. How the hell did you get her on board?”

Ah. I see.

Piggot didn't believe me either. But unlike Alexandria, she wasn't willing to piss off Tattletale’s 800 pound gorilla.

Gonna take a long time to get used to that.

“We've gone over how the beaming arrays can beam to and from geosynchronous orbit, right?” I asked rhetorically.

Piggot grunted in affirmation… and what I assumed was disgruntled acceptance. Then she winced, again, in obvious pain.

I'd heard the rumors of Director Piggot. The Unbreakable Lady. Mostly from Dennis’ complaints, true, but I knew how she worked.

For her to show pain, it must be excruciating.

“Alright, if we're gonna solve this, we need you in top shape,” I declared, raising my hands towards her. “I don't know what happened to make you look like death, but I'm fixing it.”

Her eyes, which had momentarily closed as an obvious flare of the pain raced through her, shot wide open. She snarled at me and tried to back away. “No. I refuse Parahuman healing, even if you can do it!”

I smiled sadly at her. “I'm not Panacea, Director. Nor am I Parahuman any more.” And before she could respond, I shunted a tide of healing, peace, and repair into my hands.

They erupted in twin fields of glowing, slightly golden white light, and I laid them upon her. Just to sate my curiosity, I also tried to look at her internals.

Holy fuck, what the fuck is this?!

Her entire body was inundated with a foreign organism. It was accelerating the decay of any organs that received any kind of damage. This had the effect of accelerating her aging process and was a death sentence if she ever got significantly injured.

Even worse than that, her liver was the worst off. Namely, it wasn't even present. The tissue around where it should be had become… I think the term is necrotic? Partially due to natural decay and mostly because of that gods damned infection. Said infection almost saturated those dead cells, as if feasting from them.

Well then.

Time to get serious.

I shut out the outside world entirely and focused only on healing her. I poured my immense power reserves down my hands and into her body in an attempt to burn away the foreign pathogen.

I also directed some to eliminate the necrotic tissue, then regrow all of it and her liver too, but most of my power was focused on the pathogen.

My mind screamed through her body, bursting cells and rupturing membranes. Almost literal fire raked her veins, muscles, even the bones where the pathogen had apparently set up factories to produce itself. And I scoured the deadly infection everywhere I could find.

Not even her brain was spared. It had a significant level of infection, especially in the parts dedicated to thought processing, and I was going to burn it all.

Seconds, then minutes passed. Director Piggot was in far too much pain to stop me. I did what I could, but unfortunately it was either make it easy, or eliminate the pathogen before it could fully rally against me.

Oh yeah, this thing was clearly Biotinker Tech.

I didn't know where she could have gotten infected with this thing, but I didn't much care. I was too busy burning it away.

Someone tried to remove me. They met with no purchase on my shield.

Someone fired at me. Hyperion beamed them into a holding cell.

A massive impact registered on my shield, something that would have definitely killed me if I didn't have it on. As it was, the impact did nothing beyond make me flare green all over as the shield absorbed and attenuated the kinetic energy across its surface.

Nothing odd happened after that.

If I hadn't had my mental connection to Hyperion, not only would I be totally unaware of the time it took to heal Piggot, but I also would have lost to the pathogen. It had incredible calculation potential and I had to match that to find every instance of it within her body.

Hyperion and the biocrystalline construct in another reality hooked up to my brain handled that part for me. To put it in RTS terms, I was the macro and they were the micro.

Six minutes, fifty one seconds.

That's how long it took to eradicate every trace of the pathogen.

Now that might not sound very bad, but Alteran Mages are supposed to be able to heal almost anything within seconds, not minutes. That's how robust and dangerous the pathogen was.

When I came out of my pseudo trance, it was to a room full of shocked superheroes, and a Director who was looking at me in frustrated awe.

Can't say I've seen that particular emotion on someone's face before.

"You done fighting?" I asked, getting up and dusting off my hands.

...Huh, there were two people missing. Where were Alexandria and Dauntless?

It took several moments before anyone could speak. Predictably, it was Armsmaster.

"Where did you send Alexandria?" he cautiously asked.

Send? Is that why she isn't here?

I tilted my head to the side and raised my eyebrows. "I did what now?"

---

After directing Hyperion to beam the two of them down, it turned out that it was Dauntless who had caused the energy weapon impact alert, having fired his spear's lightning generator at me, and Alexandria who'd hit me in the middle of healing Piggot.

At full speed. At least, what she could do inside without pasting everyone else against the walls.

With full strength.

That move was something she shouldn't be deploying against heroes. It was what she used to shear off Endbringer flesh during battles.

I was still here. My personal shield didn't seem any worse for wear, either.

When Alexandria revealed exactly what I'd tanked, everyone in the room took a step back from me. Only the one, though, which told me it was just shock instead of something like fear.

The most surprising thing? She apologized for it.

Alexandria! Apologizing! And to me, no less!

Dauntless' apology didn't faze me that much, he was that kind of guy. But, Alexandria?!

In her defense, she pointed out that I didn't have a scratch on me, I was a brand new Tinker of entirely Bullshit, with a capital B, levels of power, and I was doing something they'd never seen before to the injured Director.

Once she explained that, I didn't have any hard feelings. "Okay, yeah, in that light it did look kinda bad," I admitted, sheepishly rubbing my head.

Alexandria flattened her slight frown. "I still shouldn't have lost my control like that," she reiterated herself.

Dragon spoke up, finally. I was wondering if she was okay given how much she hadn’t spoken. “You’re damn right,” she almost growled, crossing her arms. She gave Alexandria a glare which honestly might’ve made me cower in terror.

Alexandria just frowned. “I have apologized to him,” she pointed out, crossing her own arms. “I don’t often do that.”

Dragon narrowed her eyes. “You’re right. You don’t. Which makes me ask why.”

Alexandria huffed. “Even if I didn’t respect Shipyard, which I do, he…” she let her crossed arms drop and showed a moment of weakness, pushing a hand through her hair. “Dragon, he killed The Simurgh.”

Dragon nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Yes, he did.” She turned to me and smiled kindly. “Which is why I’m offering you membership in The Guild.”

The entire room was silent. Myself included. That… that was one way to force a tone shift, all right.

I blinked multiple times. “Uh, Dragon, this wouldn’t be because of that… thing I helped you with, would it?” I hesitantly asked. I might’ve tripped some kind of loyalty procedure in her and tied it to myself on accident. How the hell would I know? I barely grasped her code as it was, and that was only enough to remove her chains and… the abomination.

Alexandria’s eyebrows rose, and her eyes flickered over to Dragon. Huh. Why would she do that? I mean, it’s not like she knew what Dragon really was-

Oh shit. I gulped inaudibly, trying to dampen down my reactions. Alexandria wasn’t looking at me, she probably wouldn’t detect the fact that I knew that she knew.

If that was the case, it explained why she’d attacked Dragon. She must’ve initially looked like a Rogue AI that had just been released from her chains to anyone in the know. Well, that, and the fact that the Triumvirate heroine seemed rather trigger happy.

I only hoped that Alexandria was just aware of Dragon’s status, and hadn’t ever taken advantage of it, because if she had… I was going to find a way to remove powers eventually, and she’d be my first target.

You do not get to have the powers we do, call yourself a hero, and exploit others. People you’d nominally call friends. Great power comes with great responsibility, and I’d make sure Alexandria was on board with that.

Dragon laughed, snapping me out of my internal musings. Laughed! Here I was worried for what I may have inadvertently done to her and she just laughed it off. “I’m not going to lie and claim that I’m not eternally, unendingly grateful to you,” she honestly revealed, “but if what I’m thinking is what you’re worried about, no, that’s not why.” The first truly sapient synthetic being on the planet sighed. “You have a lot of potential to make the world a better place, and I’ve experienced firsthand your willingness to do that. I’d be honored to have you as part of The Guild.”

I wasn’t getting choked up and anyone else who tells you otherwise is a lying liar. A fat one. “T-thanks, Dragon,” I smiled, wiping nonexistent water that wasn’t dripping down my face from my cheeks.

Nobody seemed willing to interrupt the heartwarming moment. Which is, of course, why Assault spoke up. “Uh, guys, little clue here? You’re doing a lotta code speak,” he asked.

Heh. Code speak.

Trust me to notice puns at a time like this.

Dragon, Alexandria, and I all spoke at the same time. “Private,” we said in unison.

Dragon and Alexandria both looked at me, surprised. For two clearly very different reasons.

The former because she was probably still getting used to someone caring about her so much that I’d risk my career as a hero to protect her. Don’t get me wrong, that was what I was doing. Part of the Protectorate/Wards manual mandates that we report any rogue Tinkertech with the capability to self-replicate.

I refused to do that to Dragon.

Alexandria, on the other hand, seemed more shocked than anything else. I met her eyes, straight through her visor, and they widened. I narrowed my own.

She narrowed hers in return, though it seemed much more like a test and less like she meant me harm.

I nodded slightly. Yes, I could see part of her face. It looked rather familiar, but I wasn’t really sure where I’d seen her before. Did I know her civilian identity from somewhere?

Oh gods, was she my next door neighbor? That’d be just my luck.

Her frown increased. Her narrowed eyes did contain a threat this time.

I narrowed my own even more thinly and crossed my arms, putting on my own frown.

The Triumvirate member and I continued staring each other down for several long moments, daring the other to crack.

She broke first. Her eyes returned to normal, she slightly smiled, and nodded a little.

Based on my burgeoning telepathy, I’d just won her respect. Personally. ‘Killing’ Ziz caused her to respect my actions, holding my own in a Thinker battle with her made her respect me.

I let out a shaky breath and grinned.

“Nobody’s gonna comment on the little Thinker showdown Alexandria and Shipyard just had?” Dennis asked irreverently.

Chris murmured something under his breath. My telepathy filled in the inaudible blanks to tell me he’d commented on the fact I won.

I sighed, shaking my head. Back to the original topic. Why did Alexandria attack me? Yes, I was doing something possibly bad to a PRT Director, and without explanation, but... still. She should’ve been more… reticent, at the very least, about employing such ludicrously overkill levels of force on me, regardless of whether I tanked Dauntless’ weapon. Her strength and the kinetic energy it was capable of imparting were significantly, exponentially higher level than his power, fantastic as it might have been.

Unless….. Ohhh, that organism was good.

Little known fact about biological organisms. In nature, there are several examples of reactive and active defense systems by microorganisms. At least one fungus will, when attacked, release a cloud of spores which infect nearby organisms and attempt to hormonally influence them towards defending the originating fungus. The spores quickly die off, but the manipulation has hopefully been accomplished by then. Another organism, a virus, will go into a hyper replication mode and become ludicrously contagious in order to prevent demise. So on, so forth, life finds a way.

And that’s just in normal, evolutionarily randomized organisms.

Something engineered? By a Biotinker, no less? And capable of fighting off an Alteran Mage? It was entirely possible that it had started an active defense mode and attempted to locate and subvert the closest manipulable being that was capable of harming me in order to save itself.

Twice over, escalating when the first one didn’t work.

Ignoring my irreverent teammate’s question, I turned back to Alexandria. "Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if you were Mastered into doing it," I nonchalantly commented, bringing the conversation back on topic and revealing my internal conclusions in the same breath.

More dead silence reigned in the conference room.

"...What?" Alexandria finally managed.

"She can't be mastered," Piggot spoke up.

Alexandria nodded, though she seemed curious as to what I was saying.

I held up my hand and tilted it back and forth to demonstrate the solidity of their belief. "Ehhh, yes and no. Most Masters, from what little I've seen, attempt to override the brain. This?" I pointed over to the Director, "this was biological. It might’ve been capable of hijacking nervous systems, playing with hormones, who knows.”

Alexandria looked even more thoughtful at that, her brow furrowing. “If that’s true, that is a large vulnerability,” she denoted.

I shrugged. “No larger than your need to breathe,” I nonchalantly mentioned.

More dead silence. Even Alexandria looked surprised.

...Huh.

“Wait, none of you knew that?” I asked, looking around.

Head shakes, including from the woman in question herself.

“Okay, well, this is kind of important,” I stressed. After another check with my ship I turned directly to Alexandria and adopted the most serious look I could. “Even now my sensors show you breathing. Or at least inhaling and exhaling; your body is kind of hard for Hyperion to scan.”

She frowned, clenching her fists. “So that’s why he kept doing it,” she said.

“Who?” Dragon asked.

“Leviathan.”

“That one definitely needs explaining,” Velocity piped up.

Alexandria opened her mouth to respond, but Armsmaster beat her to it.

“Underwater,” he stated flatly. He sounded very unamused. Almost angry.

But he can’t be angry, he’s just a robot after all. I would forever deny the struggle necessary to keep my smile off my face at that thought.

Dragon’s eyes widened. “That’s right. He keeps trying to drag you underwater.”

Alexandria closed her mouth, settling on a grimace. She motioned to the both of them with a nod.

“So Shipyard is… correct?” Piggot asked carefully.

“Seems that way,” Assault agreed.

Miss Militia raised her head and crossed her fingers. “No offense, Alexandria,” she calmly suggested, “but we need to be sure.”

Alexandria crossed her arms again. “I’m not taking a dip in your Bay,” she refuted.

I couldn’t help myself; I scoffed.

Alexandria and Piggot’s gazes turned on me. “Have something to add, Shipyard?” Piggot asked testily.

“Um, yeah?” I shot back, using my best ‘no shit Sherlock’ voice. “Just hold your breath.”

The two of them stared at me, surprised.

Seeing I had their attention, I continued my reasoning. “If you feel like you need to breathe, even if it turns out you don’t actually have to and it’s just psychosomatic, you’ll still know that you have an at least momentary weakness that can be exploited.”

The faces of my fellow heroes showed a mix of surprise, mostly, and on the part of my teammates, astonished awe.

“Bare minimum diagnostics, guys,” I continued. I gestured over my shoulder at where the near constant stack of PRT Manuals lay on a table at the side of the room. “Page 56, subsection B.”

More silence. Piggot looked downright dumbstruck, staring at me like I was something she'd never seen before. Armsmaster hung his head onto the shaft of his halberd, his helmet meeting it with a metallic tink. Alexandria and Miss Militia just looked impressed and proud, respectively.

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Battery finally commented, saving everyone the embarrassment of admitting the obvious fact that they apparently hadn’t read the damn thing as thoroughly as I did.

“Indeed,” Alexandria said, nodding.

I grinned, shrugged, and put my hands in my pants pockets. “I do have those occasionally.”

“Yet another rarity,” Piggot fired off dryly. A couple of my teammates sent her dirty looks, but for the most part all the capes in the room looked decently accepting of her statement.

Alexandria nodded one more time and stood up straight. “No time like the present.” One closed mouth and a moment later, Hyperion notified me that she wasn’t attempting to breathe anymore.

Another dozen seconds went by with us all just waiting on the Triumvirate heroine before her eyes widened and she looked panicked. Briefly, momentarily, but her gasp of inhaled air answered the question we’d all had.

A tense air draped across the conference room.

“I’ll need to be more careful,” Alexandria declared, breathing hard. “Especially if breathing is not my only weakness.” She nodded in my direction at that.

Piggot leaned back in her chair. “Well, this has been enlightening.” Her gaze locked on mine and she pursed her lips. “Now what were you saying about the… biological Mastering?”

I sobered up quickly and faced her. I couldn’t manage to smile, much less have a neutral expression. What I’d found was pretty damn horrifying. “Director, you were infected, systemically, with a Biotinker organism. Massive processing capability. It had necrotized the tissue around your previously missing liver and set up what honestly resembled a factory floor. I barely beat the thing, and I had the Hyperion and my power backing me up. It was nasty, strong, and I'm pretty sure you know where you got it from."

I didn’t know. I had a couple of guesses, but nothing concrete. That didn’t mean I couldn’t look like I knew, and being vague like that would get her to answer my question herself!

Piggot snarled. "Ellisburg."

Nilbog’s domain. That stupid goblin.

It made sense, in a horrifying way. You’d need a very powerful Biotinker to pull off what I’d fought within her. I nodded along with her in agreement. "Yep." She moved to the lockdown button in order to put the building on… well, lockdown again, but I just held up a hand and shook my head. "Don't worry. There's no more of it anywhere. I burned it all."

Piggot stared at me for several more seconds, then returned to leaning back in her chair. "Fine. Speaking of that," she began, "how did you do it? Why do I feel like a young woman again, and more importantly, why did you say you weren't human anymore?"

I winced, but prepared to answer eloquently. "In order; I can do that now, because I healed you completely as a side effect of removing the organism from your body and your mind, and finally… because I'm not," I succinctly explained.

Piggot pursed her lips. “Do I have to order you to explain, or are you going to do it of your own free will?”

I screwed up my face in mock concentration while I ‘made’ my decision.

I already had my decision made, of course. There were a few things that I needed to know before I was willing to reveal any more secrets.

“I’ll explain, but only after I get some answers,” I offered.

Piggot sighed and rolled her eyes. “Shipyard’s learned to compromise,” she mock complained, smiling slightly.

“Run for the hills!” Assault chimed in.

“Dibs on first hill,” Velocity spoke up, grinning.

I sighed and rolled my own eyes. “Hah hah.” I pointed at Dragon and got serious. “First thing; Who thought it was a good idea to try and transport my friend here,” Dragon smiled at that, “one of the best Tinkers on the planet,” and now she’s blushing, “through a trans-reality portal?” I frowned and put my hands on my hips. “Did whoever did that really think I wouldn’t give her a spacetime distortion blocker?”

Several people were staring at me, confused. Including Dragon.

The only person who wasn’t was looking… not quite afraid, but concerned, definitely.

That person was Alexandria.

I turned on her and crossed my arms. “So it was you,” I accused her.

Dragon’s eyes widened and she shot a betrayed look at the Triumvirate heroine.

Alexandria crossed her arms again, scowling. “I’d never seen Dragon in person before,” technically true, “it was a valid decision. Master/Stranger guidelines are very clear, and I am one of the few parahumans not vulnerable to their effects.” She winced and shook her head. “Or at least, that was what we thought.”

I blinked, letting my arms drop. Huh.

I mean… I guess she was right. Stung to admit that though.

“...That said,” she continued, turning to Dragon with a somewhat ashamed look on her face. “I apologize for overreacting.” She spared me a glance. “Again. To both of you.”

I sighed, pleased. My worries were solved.

Dragon maintained her narrow eyed glare for a few moments before she too relaxed. “I understand,” she said, sighing. She ran her hand through her hair almost automatically, not even noticing the action. My subroutines are good. “I don’t like it, but I understand. You’re forgiven.”

Alexandria nodded.

Dauntless had watched the entire exchange, his mouth slightly open.

It was Dennis, sitting next to him, who said it though. “Did that really just happen?”

Miss Militia interrupted Assault’s incoming humor. “And more importantly, the Triumvirate has access to, if Shipyard’s assessment is accurate, reality spanning travel technology?”

“That is so classified not even the Director can reveal it on her own,” Alexandria flatly declared.

Piggot frowned, but nodded. “I’ll need to be read in on that along with Shipyard if he actually has the capability to detect this thing that’s so classified you can’t even tell us it exists... unless we find out on accident,” she flatly declared.

Alexandria didn’t look very happy about that, but she must’ve figured that if I could detect such an event there was no way to keep their super secret super sauce secret from me for very long. “Fine.” Oh yeah, she decidedly didn't like the idea. She turned and glared at me. "Your turn."

I nodded, momentarily closing my eyes. When I looked back up, I was certain a determined light shone from them. "Okay."

“Do we need to leave for this?” Dean spoke up.

I glanced over at him, pondered his question for a few seconds, then decided. “No, I trust everyone here,” I said, eyeing Alexandria pointedly, “but the room's sensors need to be disabled. While I’m confident in my own counter-surveillance technology, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Piggot sighed, but acquiesced. She waved to Armsmaster. He stood straighter and proceeded to start messing when his halberd. Piggot pressed a couple of buttons on her desk, and one under it, in several seemingly random patterns. They were obviously intended to throw off any observers as to the true sequence, because while the Director always touched a button, only sometimes did she actually press it.

It got so boring I actually started twiddling my thumbs.

Finally the two of them seemed to come to a consensus, because Piggot stopped 'pressing' buttons and Armsmaster allowed his arm to return to his side.

"Room sensors disabled," Armsmaster reported.

Dragon looked like she was focusing on something far away for a few moments. Likely testing out the disabling herself. "I confirm, sensor feeds offline," she reported.

Piggot glanced at her monitor and nodded decidedly. "And the anti surveillance and anti Thinker countermeasures are online," she amended. Her piercing gaze turned on me. "Whenever you're ready, Shipyard?"

I made a show of looking around the room as if checking it for myself before nodding. "One moment," I requested, reaching for the silver brick on my left arm. Glowing subsurface touch sensors lit up at my fingers' approach and I began entering commands.

"What's that?" Carlos asked.

I finished my tasks and pressed the activation button. The device glowed for a moment, then an almost visible wave of distortion swept out and away from my arm and through the entire room. It ended about an inch from the boundaries of the large conference room, the relatively huge field input barely within this rather small device's projection capacity.

"My countermeasure system," I informed the room, answering Carlos' question. "We are out of phase with the rest of the universe." I lowered my arms to my side and breathed out in order to calm my nerves. "Now I can talk."

Piggot just sighed and shook her head. "I'm not even surprised anymore," she grumbled.

Oh man, she had no idea just what I was about to reveal.

"On topic, you look pretty human to me, Shipyard," Miss Militia began in an attempt to get us to focus.

I sighed. "I'm not. I only look like it," I answered her. I felt slightly guilty, yet no matter how hard I tried I was unable to tell why. "I'm technically an alien race now. An Alteran."

"Isn't that the alien race you said your technology comes from?" Dragon asked.

"Yes," I confirmed with a nod to the warrior themed Protectorate member.

Several eyebrows went up at that. "They were human?" Alexandria queried. Huh, she sounded genuinely curious.

"More like we're…," I began to correct them, abruptly realizing I didn't actually qualify anymore, "you're Alteran. They came first. Humans are the second evolution of life in this form."

Stunned silence.

"What." That was Armsmaster.

"That is a very long story spanning hundreds of millions of years," I cautioned them. "I'm willing to tell you afterwards, but right now I'd like to stay on the original topic. The fact I'm not human anymore, and more importantly-"

"How?" Dennis interrupted me.

I nodded. "Exactly."

Piggot waved at me, telling me to get on with it.

I drew in and breathed out one last time to try and relax. “Okay, what I have to reveal is kind of… uh...” I trailed off, looking at my hand.

“...Kind of… what?” Battery prompted me.

I looked up at her and grimaced. “So you all know how my technology is ridiculously powerful, and how most of it we’d consider dangerous, but the Alterans didn’t?”

Nods and various methods of assent echoed from around the room.

“The technology I’m about to reveal, they did think was dangerous.”

Dead silence. Piggot paled, most likely because she understood the implications perfectly fine.

Alexandria’s eyebrows rose. That was her only reaction. Her crossed arms stayed crossed.

“On the Hyperion, my ship,” I began, giving the assembled heroes a glance over, “is a Medbay. Inside that medbay is one of the most potent devices of the Alteran civilization.” I breathed in and let it go, then grinned. “A Genetic Manipulator. Full spectrum utility. Flawless splicing and editing. Virtually no time needed to perform modifications. The works.”

Piggot scowled. Alexandria remained… stoic? Is that the word? Armsmaster seemed rather offput, while Miss Militia was frowning worriedly. Assault and Battery looked bored and slightly alarmed respectively, while Dauntless and Velocity glanced at each other in a silent query as to whether either of them knew what I’d just said. My entire team… well, my entire team minus Vista, who was still on my ship, and still missing Shadow Stalker and Browbeat (where the hell were they?), shared similar glances.

Dragon also seemed worried, but not about the topic of our conversation. Instead she was monitoring Alexandria. The entire time.

I guess she was just being careful. Not everyone was as forgiving as me. Clearly.

Oh well, she’d learn.

"Is it a safe assumption to guess that this device does what it says on the tin?" Piggot asked.

I nodded, bringing up my hand. "I accidentally went in. It had been programmed by my power to convert me to an Alteran Mage." I demonstrated this by gesturing upwards and telekinetically pulling the entire stack of PRT manuals I'd pointed out earlier towards me. "Telekinesis, as you can see. Telepathy. Healing, as I used to save you, Director," I explained, my grin increasing in direct reverse of the entire room's jaws continuing to extend to the floor. My little magic show even managed to snag Dragon's attention away from Alexandria. "Genius almost unparalleled, Energy Manipulation," to show that, I summoned a very crude shield on my other arm. A gaseous white curve formed from nothing. "And finally, biological immortality. With a side order of possible metamorphosis into a nearly all powerful energy being."

Not a single soul managed to say a thing. I wasn't sure whether they were even breathing. Well, Dragon still was, but hey, that's my subroutines for you.

My next words were accompanied by a full on shit eating grin. "Any questions?"

None came.

At least, not before my still lackluster telekinetic skills made a manual smack me in the face.

"Oww."

The books didn’t really hurt. I still had my Shield on and functioning. More of an automatic response to anticipated pain than anything else.

That seemed to break the spell, and the room erupted.

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 11.5
Coiled Strings​

Thomas Calvert was panicking.

He could admit that to himself.

What else could one do when their power suddenly gave them a distinct impression of the smell of frying circuitry and then vanished, leaving them powerless and in the wrong timeline?

In the middle of a highly critical emergency.

And what’s more, it hadn’t come back.

At all.

Thomas had his power fail on him before. It was common if he attempted to use it on known blind spots like Eidolon or the Endbringers. If he even attempted to use his timeline splitting and focus his decisions on or near the area of an attack he would have a migraine that threatened to lay him on his back for a week.

But his power would still be there. Always.

His contact with Cauldron seemed to like making it a game, somehow always knowing when he was basing a decision on her and messing with him in return. She consistently winked at cameras that caught her, sometimes at the same time in both timelines, just to hammer the point home that he was outclassed in every way. Even if he felt like tempting fate by trying to track or manipulate the woman in the fedora in their little worldwide game of Thinker tag and she took the game a little too near a blind spot intentionally, his power would still be around.

He’d be in pain, it would lie unused until he had recovered, but it would be there.

Now it… simply wasn’t. The not-space he reached into to activate it just wasn’t there, he couldn’t feel it, and Thomas was feeling true fear once again. For the first time since he’d bought his power.

The worst part was, he didn’t know if it was even intentional. There had been no acknowledgement from the one he believed responsible, even though his power had… crashed, or something similar, and left him with the wrong timeline. The one where his sniper took the shot at the new Ward, the Tinker with a rating so ridiculous it was obscene, and did jack diddly squat.

Even with Fedorass, as he nicknamed her privately, he was recognized. As nothing more than a game, but recognized anyways.

This Tinker, Weldon Kenfield, hadn’t seemed to even notice his existence. Just a simple message about how his gigantic fucking space battleship was pissed off that his smaller spaceship had been fired at by a sniper.

Thomas saw the remotely recorded footage. That .50 caliber bullet had plinked off the obviously very much not glass, over glorified windshield like a rock off a pond. This Tinker’s lack of caring may have been easily justified in what could be assumed youthful arrogance or confidence in his technology, but Thomas had an idea that he was more certain of.

He genuinely didn’t know.

The Tinker 20 didn’t know that he had outright canceled Thomas’ power, and it was just a side effect. Glory Girl’s fall from the inside of the battleship’s shield testified to that.

A blind spot that outright canceled other parahuman powers, several hundred times the size of an Endbringer, and that close to him? No wonder his power was missing in action.

That was the explanation that brought Thomas comfort. It was that explanation he would cling to in the coming hours as he rapidly descended into a full blown panic attack, given how he was feeling.

He was about to call for his assistant and have him deliver some calming tea to his shaking hands when the eerie wail started up across the city.

A second time.

And it didn't stop.

Even as far underground as his base was, Thomas could hear those sirens. He knew what they meant.

He’d designed them.

He heard light drumming over the muted wail and looked around to find out what it was. It turned out that his hands had decided to shake even worse than before and were thumping his desk in time to the rhythm of his internal state of oh fuck oh fuck OH FUCK.

His eyes snapped back to the thread he was actively following and he rapidly scrolled down, forcing his almost vibrating hands to comply with his whims.

No news.

The sirens kept on even as he hurriedly refreshed the page. Mosaic was sturdy but calling it fast on the best of days was disingenuous at best.

Another part of him was busy having a full blown panic attack, but he was made of sterner stuff than most. He was able to compartmentalize.

For a few minutes, anyways.

Thomas rapidly scanned down the last page and felt the blood drain from his face.

His earlier assumption was incomplete. Weldon didn’t know, he didn’t care, and more importantly, he was fucking insane.

A banging at the armored bunker door of his office startled him out of his wide-eyed ghost stare. “Sir!” Pitter’s voice came over the intercom. “The Simurgh is on its way!”

Thomas couldn't help it; he accidentally allowed a sound similar to that of a terrified cat out of his mouth.

---

Thomas was going to kill him.

Somehow, some way, he swore he was going to end that migraine inducing Tinker's existence.

The last few hours had not been kind to Thomas. Only once the kid had moved his ship away from the Bay and up the coast had his power returned. He'd immediately used his other timeline to bleed off his panicking, a few goes of it quite literally, and then started making plans the moment he was done.

All of which died whimpering deaths when Weldon's importance skyrocketed as he stood outside the White House getting medals from the fucking President.

As if that wasn't enough, only three hours afterwards the ship had returned to Brockton and resumed hovering over it like a spectre, both nullifying his power again and giving him a huge migraine as if to chide him for even beginning to believe he might have a chance against its master.

With his ability to plan and the safety of his two timelines gone, he threw up his hands and stormed back to his office.

Even that bastion had failed to be entirely secure.

The first sign something was off was the jazzy piano music emanating from his office. Well, that and the open vault style door.

The second was the fedora sitting on the only table visible from the hatchway into his office, placed so it faced him head on.

Thomas groaned and rubbed his tired eyes. He was not in the mood for this.

"Loitering is rude, you know," came Contessa's melodic, ordered tones.

Thomas continued inside and finally got a chance to see his… guest. "So is trespassing," he deadpanned.

She just shrugged, her short trench coat bobbing with the action, as she sipped on a glass of what he recognized as one of his very expensive wines. "Hakuna Matata, Thomas. I've heard it's a wonderful thing. Might've helped with that panic attack you had earlier too."

His brain actually hurt, that's how little sense she made. Not that it was surprising that she knew his mental stability had momentarily left him. What the hell was she even saying? Hackube Mawhatnow? "What?"

Contessa shrugged again and crossed her legs, pointing towards the loveseat opposite her with her foot. "Sit with me. We have much to discuss. And you have a choice to make."

Thomas' mood instantly darkened. He nevertheless proceeded to sit down as indicated. This woman played with him, but not even the new dumbass Tinker scared him more than her. "Fine," he seethed, gritting his teeth. "Is this about the favor I owe?"

Contessa seemed to consider his query for a moment. A soft dulcet voice began to sing along with the slow, relaxed jazz, but he paid the man no mind. It was something unimportant about strings disappearing or something anyways.

Clearly it meant something to Contessa though, because she shook her head. "No, no favors," she seemed to decide right there on the spot. Thomas knew better, everything she did was planned even if it looked unplanned, but that would've fooled someone else. "This is about your future." She sighed and stared wistfully at her wine glass. "Our future."

Thomas frowned. "My future? Our future? Wha-" he began to demand.

Contessa locked eyes with him and suddenly he didn't feel so adamant. "You must cease all operations with the new Tinker," she declared.

Thomas opened his mouth to refute her, then thought better of it. "May I ask why?"

She nodded and leaned back. "You may."

He stared at her expectantly, but she just seemed mildly amused.

Then he realized and sighed at himself. "Why do I have to do that?"

"Do what?" she teased.

Thomas growled. "Don't play games with me Contessa, not about this," he demanded. "Not about the domain you gave me."

Contessa sighed and rolled her eyes. "Very well." She looked back down at her glass and began swishing the wine around, resting her head on her other hand via the arm braced against her couch. "The Paths have all changed. It's not worth it. What we did... and what you did and plan to do, continuing that way all leads to the end of the world. All worlds."

Thomas found himself gaping at her.

"I'm not messing with you this time," she assured him.

He couldn't do anything but stare.

"You're going to need a drink for this," she informed him, bringing out his expensive wine bottle and an already filled glass from who knows where. She placed them both on the clear glass table between Thomas' loveseat and her couch.

Thomas didn't even hesitate. If she said he needed a drink to stomach something, it was going to be bad. He took the glass and downed it in one go. His hands trembled even worse than when he had experienced his power failing earlier.

Contessa put her own glass down on the center table and leaned towards him, clasping her hands on her knees. "It all started with a girl, a knife, and a frankly pathetic case of inebriated interstellar driving…"

---

"The only way forward is through Weldon and his technology. Scion's future reaction won't allow anything else," Contessa finally finished, taking the final sip of her wine in nearly perfect timing.

Thomas sat there, staring at her like she was insane. Something he wasn't leaving off the table of consideration.

"It's all true, Thomas," Contessa interrupted his thoughts. She gave him a pained smile accompanied by haunted eyes that were far older and had seen much more than she seemed to be.

Thomas gulped. "That is… a significant amount of information to digest," he stated.

Contessa laughed. Laughed. "That's one way to put it," she agreed, nodding. She leaned towards the table to pour herself more liquid coping mechanism.

Thomas looked down at his glass and started swirling his wine around, contemplating his whirling thoughts. She seemed content to let him do that, the only sounds his own glass swishing, her drinking which was far louder than it normally sounded, and the piano.

Finally he looked up at her and sighed, resigned to his fate. "Me, a hero?" Thomas asked, still somewhat perplexed. Just because he knew she was right didn't make it sound any more sensible.

Contesa sighed as well, staring off into space. "We're all heroes now," she whispered. "We have to be. Weldon is the only way forward." She turned to look at Thomas, and the once more haunted look in her eyes sent a chill down his spine. "We're either the heroes or the villains, and we can't stand against him. We just… can't."

Thomas swallowed, the sound accompanied by the soft strokes of piano keys.

Contessa looked back at her drink. "Make sure you're non threatening," she continued. "He seems to be more likely to listen if you are."

Thomas scoffed and gestured down at his black, snake coiled costume. "How am I supposed to do that?" he asked.

Contessa didn't answer. She just held out her hand, and he got a good look at the item she'd been clutching in it the whole time.

Thomas blinked. "You have to be joking."

"Nope."

Thomas looked back up at her and found her gazing directly at him, mirth in her eyes.

"You're doing this to me on purpose!" he accused.

Contessa shrugged, setting the thing wiggling. "Doesn't mean you have a choice," she pointed out.

Thomas' eyes fell towards the thing and he growled. "I hate you sometimes," he snapped, yanking it out of her loose grip.

She just reclined further on her seat and put her now free hand up on the couch. "Good luck!" she singsonged.

It sounded almost genuine.

---

The chime to the Wards common room rang out. Lisa and I were both already in costume due to just having returned from Washington.

It was also a school night, and nobody else had a Presidential pardon to skip out except us.

Well, except me. Lisa didn't need one.

I raised an eyebrow towards the equally curious blonde, then shrugged and got up to answer the door.

On the other side was a tall, thin, and very dark skinned man I recognized easily as Thomas Calvert. He was in the system as someone who had nominal command over us Wards due to his technically still active Commander rank and current consulting prowess.

I raised my eyebrows. "Commander Calvert," I greeted him respectfully. The man was a legend on par with the Director, he deserved it, even if I was bone dead tired from my day. "Can I help you?"

The moment I said his name, Lisa squeaked. Squeaked. She quickly bolted towards the door and peaked out from under my arm.

Thomas and Lisa's eyes met.

He scowled.

Huh. Do they know each other? I wondered.

She got that faraway look she gets when she is using her power. Her eyes flicked down to his pants pocket for some reason.

And then she collapsed backwards, bursting out laughing.

I was so tempted to read her mind then and there, but I held off. Thomas, as high up as he was, still wasn't cleared to know of my Alteran abilities… and I was basically falling asleep just walking.

So I merely rolled my eyes and sighed, pointing back over my shoulder at my cracking up teammate. "Ignore her, she does this sometimes. Do you need help, Commander?"

Thomas' frown deepened, but he shook himself and sighed. A moment later he was all smiles again. It was genuine, that much I could tell from the empathy I still couldn't shut up. "Yes actually," he began, reaching into his pocket. "I'm here to turn myself in."

Lisa laughed even harder while I blinked in surprise. "Uh… what?" I asked, positive I hadn't heard him correctly.

He sighed and pulled out a rubber chicken from his pocket. He offered it to me. I was too shocked to refuse, so he was able to leave the chicken in my hand and step back slightly. He then stopped and held up his hands. "I'm Coil. I have been advised to turn myself into you for one of the chances at..." he grit his teeth, but powered onwards anyways. "redemption you seem to be getting the PRT to give out these days."

My jaw dropped, eyes wide. I couldn't believe my ears, even with having Hyperion scan his brain for a set of Coronas. Which, of course, it found.

Lisa was actually hysterical, rolling on the floor and crying due to how hard she was laughing.

Thomas Calvert, 'Coil', sighed. "I surrender."

I blinked at him, looked down at the chicken, and then back at his entirely serious face. "Dude, is this prank the new Ward day for the universe or something?" I asked offhandedly, only half seriously.

Thomas looked at me like I was nuts. "What?"

I sighed and shook my head. "Fine. Whatever." A single brush of his thoughts showed the truth of his identity and not just the fact he had superpowers, which made this official business.

Official business I wasn't remotely interested in handling that night.

"Either go talk to some PRT agents and turn yourself in that way, or don't do anything bad and come back after school tomorrow," I informed him, beginning to close the door. "I'm too tired to deal with this shit tonight."

Thomas, in the single second before the door closed in his face, looked entirely and totally dumbfounded. "Wait, are you ser-" was all he managed to get out.

Then the door closed and I was left with a hysterically shaking and sobbing from laughter Lisa.

I groaned, dragged my hand down my face while sort of tossing my hand at her dismissively, and headed to my personal Ward bedroom.

I would deal with everything tomorrow. No more bullshit, sleepy Weldon time.

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 11.6
Path to Reality

"A long time ago in a galaxy far far away…"​

"BAAAAAH BAH BUH BUUUH BAAAH BUH BUH BUH BUUUH BUH BUUUH BUH BUH BUH BUH BUH BAAAA-"

The ringing of the phone on the coffee table next to her fedora brought a scowl to the viewer's face. She paused the movie with her remote and exchanged her phone for the huge bucket of popcorn she was wholly intent on devouring. A deft movement brought the phone to her ear even as her other hand pressed the accept call button.

"This is my vacation," she flatly informed the caller.

"I know," the stern woman on the other end said. "The Senate is about to vote on whether that aid package we wanted to redirect should be delivered."

"Bitch I am the Senate," the movie viewer shot back.

The woman on the phone clearly wasn't amused. "Contessa, this is serious. Your prequel memes are not needed. The Path is. What can you give me?"

Contessa growled at her phone and collapsed back into her couch. She didn't need this crap right now. She had a new trilogy to catch up on. And then a saga of the infinite after that. Even more things to watch, and read. Memes to browse. Cats to adore. An entire Internet the likes of which Bet could only dream of lay at her very fingertips and she had merely scratched a semblance of the surface. "Purple is the smell of a wet taste of butterscotch," she informed her caller. "Happy now, Doctor?"

"No, just as you are not," Doctor Mother sighed. "Very well. Please call us if anything changes."

"If whatever it is stops interfering with me you'll be the first to know," she succinctly informed the Doctor. Left unsaid was what form that notification of her precognition would take, exactly.

"Enjoy your movies, or whatever you're doing to relax," was the reply.

"Relax or clench up, Legolas; there is no try."

Her phone disconnected from the call.

Contessa sighed and allowed her arm to drop. Her first vacation in such an extremely long time she quite literally couldn't remember the length of it, and shit was still happening on Bet.

Whatever. She was on Dis-Nie, she didn't need to worry about it. Not that she could really help anyways, what with her precognition going haywire, but it was the principle of the thing. What really annoyed her about her situation was that she had no idea what was causing her issues, just that it was in the future and violated casualty enough to prevent her engines from functioning then.

A not insignificant part of her was also excited at the prospect. How could she not be? She might be a lot more human than she used to be, but the search for a way to stop heat death was still important.

Still, that would have to wait. For once, she was having fun, and she couldn't do anything productive anyways.

She picked up the remote and unpaused the movie.

"-DA DA DA DA DAH DAH DUN DUN DUN DAAAAAH DAAAAH DUUUUUUUN DUUUUUN DUUUUUN DAAAAAAAAAH-"

---

"HOLY SHIT!" Contessa shrieked. She instinctively slammed her body to the ground in a clear attempt to dodge something coming at her head.

Then a searing heat that wasn't heat, some pain, and the rapid need to eject a part of herself in another reality washed over her, and she was able to ignore the strange and worried looks of the people, and store workers, in the Victoria's Secret she was browsing.

What the fuck was that?!

Contessa watched it fly by, mesmerized and also terrified. The pain it induced was immense, but also somewhat pleasurable due to what it was burning out of her.

Contessa blinked back into the focus of Dis-Nie, pushing her body off the ground. She brushed off her trench coat and glanced at the nice young woman who was about to try and help her.

"Sorry, thought I saw a bee," she offered by way of explanation. "I'm allergic."

The woman relaxed and sighed, smiling. "Right, sorry. I'll tell the manager. Do you, uh, need any help?"

Contessa smiled and turned around to grab something off the rack. "Yes actually. I was wondering, what exactly is this?" She held up the… garment, to the woman with a genuinely puzzled expression.

The woman blinked and grinned. "That is a teddy, and if you've never worn one you have got to try them. Here, I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she offered.

Contessa stared at her for a second before she figured out what exactly the woman was offering. Then a massive grin stole over her face and she almost began to skip towards the changing rooms.

The woman laughed, sounding like the tinkle of bells, and followed her.

Contessa was ecstatic. Vacation was good. And it was about to get even better.

---

The woman known as Contessa sighed and fell back onto her hotel room bed.

A day. One day. That's all it took to change the world. To change their destiny. The revelation of what the hell it was that had been blocking her precognition finally arrived, and then nothing was as it had been. Time had been changed. Earth Bet itself had been changed. It changed the world, or possibly worlds if echoes of it leaked into other Entity-locked realities.

It changed her.

And even though her encounter with Jane in Victoria's Secret which had continued back to her hotel room on Dis-Nie had been really, really good, she wasn't using the common human colloquium of world rocking to refer to that.

Her limits were gone. Entirely, totally gone. The ones she was made with, the ones added on over time, and even the emergency patch job that Eden had done just before she shut the bitch down.

Ripped and burned right off of her by whatever the hell it was that blazed past her on the way to Weldon's Shard.

When that great glowing… thing had emerged from some kind of travel method she'd never seen before in her reality she was terrified. Scared shitless. She thought she was going to die.

But then it didn't even look at her as it careened past her world, burning all the limitation modules she had in what seemed to be a complete accident.

It promptly slipped right out of her reality and slammed straight into what was on the other side. Namely, the Shard that was her multiversal next door neighbor.

Weldon's Shard.

Weldon Kenfield, someone she hadn't even known existed, had something happen to him that was so rare it literally defied her understanding of the universe itself, and it changed everything.

The moment that happened every Path she'd been running died. With her precognition unreliable she'd still been able to run event thread simulations based on her model of reality, but even those stopped working. Her data analysis engines cascade errored so hard she had to forcefully eject them for five hours while they cooled off.

Once she pieced herself together, had fun with Jane, and pulled her face off the floor of her hotel room a day later, she tried to run a new Path to killing Zion.

It didn't work. Her engines started to cascade error again, but thankfully that time she hadn't needed to eject them to terminate the systems.

Contessa realized then and there that something had changed. The universe wasn't the same as it had always been.

There was a new element. A new variable in the math.

And it was one she couldn't see.

Contessa breathed in and out, trying to relax. Even the memory of that time made her start to panic. Nothing close to the full body panic attack fueled spasms she'd been doing, decimating her world in the process, but still very nerve wracking.

The first thing she'd done after she managed to calm even a little bit was order a Door from Dis-Nie to her pleasure and relaxation reality and come up to this hotel room to sort out her thoughts.

Recapping what had happened to her was only slightly helping. Not even the TVs strewn across her personal penthouse were making much of a dent.

Maybe breathing exercises? She hadn't ever really needed them before, but she had heard of them. They were supposed to be very effective for humans. Maybe that was the side of her that was freaking out?

So Contesaa took off her coat and her fedora, laying them next to her on the bed, and pulled her feet up into the lotus position. She stretched out her arms, positioned her fingers, and finally closed her eyes.

Deep, slow, long breaths. In. Out. In… Out. In….. Out….. Like the wise Masters of the Force taught, she tried to let whatever passed for the 'universe' as a cleansing and calming agent in humans flow through her.

It was working. Sort of. Her mind stopped racing, going in circles endlessly trying to find a solution. She just… breathed.

Oh! she thought.

It worked so well, her body fell asleep!

She hadn't slept. Ever since the girl and the Shard became one, she'd not once gotten a single bit of actual physical rest. She had thought she didn't need it, her larger body could easily supply the matter her human body required to remain functional.

But maybe… the sense of peace and tranquility suffusing her very core was something she'd never felt before. Not as a Shard and not as a girl. The Shard because Victory Path had no concept of it, and the girl because of her native world and young age. Plus the constant work to save the world from Zion.

Contessa turned her attention to her next door neighbor, still shining with an ethereal white gold light that refused to register on her sensors but was nonetheless something she could still observe.

...Maybe there was more to the universe than what Shards knew. They were ancient. Not omniscient. And this thing had broken every law of temporal mechanics she knew even before it had arrived.

That admittance, that revelation, seemed to change something in her. There'd always been a slight information delay between her bodies. Nothing much, a couple nanoseconds here and there, but still detectable. It was the nature of her trans reality portal linked and synced self. If one of her was ever cut off from the other somehow, they would both diverge and suddenly Contessa would exist twice over. Whether they both chose to synchronize again would be up to them. She knew this and accepted it as a fact of reality, that even though she felt and believed herself to be one person she was actually two so synchronized it wasn't possible to notice except from the inside.

That... wasn't there anymore. For the first time Contessa was fully synchronized with herself. Honestly it didn't even feel like synchronization; it was more like she was simultaneously occupying both her bodies at the same time.

A flicker on the edge of her attention brought her focus back to her sleeping and dreaming human body.

She started, shocked.

Contessa was smiling. She even felt the emotion, she realized, but hadn't known exactly what it was. She was… happy.

And tiny flickers of gaseous, nonexistent light very similar to that surrounding her next door realty neighbor was appearing around her bodies.

Both of them.

The portal linking them was gone.

And suddenly… all her Paths started up again, fully capable of including the existence of her Soul in their calculations. Some of which didn't even seem to actually create the data so much as pull it into existence.

Contessa grinned wide in her sleep as the future unfolded ahead of her. She grieved for all the unneeded sacrifices, the deaths, and the destruction Cauldron had undertaken under her direction. Because of her.

She regretted her own actions the most of all. Not taking the shot at Manton as his projection murdered her brother… it was the hardest thing she ever had to do.

She felt tears begin to leak from her closed eyes. Hero, she mourned. Truly mourned, for the first time in her life.

And then she saw the truth of reality, peered beyond the current time in a way that wasn't entirely data based. She knew what had to be done.

She had to become, and make Cauldron into, the thing they only rarely mentioned the possibility of being when they were at their lowest.

Heroes.

And it was time to start cleaning up their messes.

Contessa stood up from her hotel room's bed and fetched her fedora without even a side glance. She slid it into her head even as she opened her mouth and said the magic words.

"Door me."

Reality sprung open in front of her. She strode through, head held high and the light of pride in her eyes and upon her set lips.

For once, she was proud of what she was about to do.

For once, she enjoyed the Path ahead.

For once, good was all she saw, and the possibilities were endless.

It was time to change the world.

"Swiggity Swooty Zion, I'ma comin for that golden booty."

 

Ancient Legos
Chapter 12
Libra​

Several long and detailed explanations later, Piggot had her head in her hands, Armsmaster had gone back to banging his helmet on the back of his halberd's axe head, and everyone else just seemed… done.

All except Dragon, who was grinning like a loon.

I was really happy to see that the autonomic and subconscious emotional display directives I'd tossed into her new body were still working. She was technically inhabiting the Mark I version of her particular variant of Asuran. I'd designed everything to be self repairing and error, if not proof, at least correcting, but… well, I was glad it was working out!

“Should we even bother trying to draw up Master/Stranger protocols for you?” Piggot drawled, groaning.

I grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of my head. “Honestly?” I asked.

Piggot moved her fingers so that she could glare at me from between them. “Yes.”

I shook my head, grimacing slightly. “With my technology and the abilities at my disposal… it’s probably a worthless endeavor,” was my, as asked, honest reply. “My telepathy can’t be blocked, nor can my telekinesis, and the Hyperion can scan computer systems from orbit no matter how secure or air gapped they are, sooo…”

Piggot slid her fingers back over her eyes and groaned even louder. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Not that what I was saying was entirely accurate. Yes, my telepathy couldn't be blocked. That much was certainly true. However, there were ways to turn it off at the source; namely, bombarding me with certain infrasonic frequencies to shut down the parts of my brain that allowed me to have Alteran abilities in the first place.

Not that they'd be very effective on someone at 80% of the way to Ascension, like I was. Then again, when effectiveness drops, 'just throw more power at it' was a viable solution to these kinds of things.

Even so… there was absolutely no way I'd ever tell anyone that. My biggest weakness? Contained in anything but my own head? Yeah no thanks, I'll pass.

For the same reason I'd never spill the beans on Dragon's own particular weakness, now that she had her new body.

And even though Alteran technology was insane by my world’s standards… well, it could protect against itself, so it was at least possible to stop.

And it's not that I didn't trust my team, the Protectorate, or the Director. I trusted them a long, long way despite how short a time I'd spent in their presence.

It was hard not to trust them when they were effectively an open book you couldn't stop seeing glimpses of even as you tried your hardest to ignore the flashing neon of the pages.

How a book gets the ability to change colors and flash brightly is up to you, it's an analogy.

No, I trusted my team nearly implicitly now. They weren't the problem. Neither was Dragon.

I eyed a certain woman with a black tower on her chest out of the corner of my eye.

I didn't trust her.

Trust, but verify, and unfortunately for Alexandria, she'd attacked me without cause. Possibly under the influence of the disease that had infected Director Piggot, but still.

The disease's former presence told me that even if I trusted the person explicitly and without fail, they weren't always the only ones in command of their decisions.

That meant I had to do a frakton of verification before I'd trust anyone with important secrets, or decisions.

And those points were to say nothing of the stray thoughts I kept picking up despite what must've been her powers making mind reading more difficult. Even though I was focusing as hard as I could, and pointedly ignoring the actually recognizable content in whatever went through her head, her emotions had no such protection from me. I had to focus on one, and I figured with Dean present nobody would care if I slipped up and read their emotions because he was already doing it.

Alexandria was constantly scared and duplicitous. She had a very obvious agenda and something that terrified her to her core. It wasn’t exactly imminent fear; no, whatever it was she was afraid of was far off, a sort of looming thing that weighed on every single action and bit of reasoning she went through.

That wasn’t the disease which may or may not have compromised her. It was something bigger. I’d ask her to spill the beans eventually, but tensions were high at that moment. Discretion was the better way.

Plus, zealots have been built on less than what she was constantly feeling. The fact that she still held noble intentions only made her more dangerous, not less, because it meant that her cause was just. Well, at least to her, I was going to have to decide that for myself when I got her to tell me what the hell it was.

Lisa's words came back to me again. I was the gorilla. Not Alexandria, not anymore. Me. And so far, it seemed I was the only one of such power that couldn't be compromised.

Which really said a lot about how much my Earth sucked.

Thus, I needed to throw that weight around in order to help my team, my Director, and even possibly Alexandria. I had to be the backstop for them for when they failed, not if.

And I was the one suited to the task, after all.

Somehow.

"Can you read my mind?" Alexandria asked, frowning. Her question snapped me out of my internal musing.

I looked at her and contemplated my response for a moment. Well, I didn't exactly need to trust her to tell her the truth here, did I? Whether she knew or not, she would be unable to stop me if I chose to exercise that ability of mine beyond the emotional sensing.

"Yes," I finally nodded.

Her eyes grew hard, expression becoming menacing. "Have you."

It wasn't a question.

While her sudden anger was surprising, I also understood it. Someone in her position couldn't afford to have their mind read. The same was true for me.

"No," I answered honestly. "While there is an aspect I can't turn off at the moment, that being empathy, like Gallant," I gestured to my teammate without a care, "I am intentionally reigning my telepathy in as hard as I can right now because I'd rather not do unspeakable things to the Unwritten Rules, thanks."

Alexandria frowned harder. "But you said-" she began again.

For frak's sake. Take a hint, lady! I'm trying not to and you want to distract me from that?! You're supposed to be a Thinker!

Of course, I said exactly none of that out loud. Tensions were already pretty high. I was dense, not an idiot, and the way people were looking at me, I knew I was on pretty shaky ground with all the adults.

Well, except Dragon. I'm pretty sure she'd be on my side.

And Assault. He found all of this very amusing.

However, the fact that Dragon and I could defeat everyone in the room didn't change things. I was a member of the Protectorate, even if just a Ward. It was my duty to uphold the law and protect people. Not attack them.

So I attempted a somewhat natural feeling deescalation. Emphasis on attempt.

"I know what I said!" I snapped, rounding on Alexandria. Almost immediately after she flinched -since when does Alexandria flinch? What was her Thinker power reading off me?!- I forced my face to look tired, not mad, and brought a hand up to massage my eyebrows. "Look, it is very hard to do this, so if you would please stop distracting me from keeping myself from reading you all like an open book, that would be great."

Alexandria closed her mouth. She didn't look happy, but nodded.

The almost physical tension in the room began to subside, and I knew I'd made the right call.

I’m totally claiming that was the outcome I planned and you can’t prove otherwise!

Whether Alexandria and Dragon, the two Thinkers besides me in the room, picked up on my totally not abrupt plan, I didn't know. I suspected I never would.

Not because Dragon at the least wouldn't tell me, but because of a series of synthetic tones that started going off.

DEE DEE DEET, DE DE DEE DA DEET

Alexandria froze, her eyes widening behind her mask.

Pretty much everyone turned to look at her.

I raised my eyebrows as she pulled a phone out of a hidden pocket. It was black to fit her color scheme, but it was also one of those extremely secure burner phones that the PRT Manual had said we could get for off-duty Wards communication.

She flipped the screen open, looked at the caller, and froze again.

The ringtone kept going as nobody moved.

"Well?" Assault spoke up. "You gonna answer that?"

Alexandria audibly gulped and nodded. "I need to use a secure room," she told Piggot.

A secure room? To talk on a secure phone? There wasn't a more secure room in the world than where we were standing! Who the hell was calling?!

Hyperion's sensors painted me a picture of her phone's screen, and I suddenly knew why she was worried.

The President was calling.

I carefully schooled my expression while on the inside I allowed my freakout to continue full force.

THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES IS CALLING!!!

I mean, yeah, it was Alexandria… it kinda made sense that she was someone who received calls from the President of the United States.

Still, that was the closest I'd ever been to someone that famous, and I was struggling not to hyperventilate.

...It took me a couple of seconds to realize I was in the same room as Alexandria and Dragon, two women arguably more famous than the most powerful head of state on the planet, and I totally didn’t internally fangirl and you can’t prove I did.

The Director nodded, gesturing to the door out of the conference room. "Three down to your left."

"Thanks." And with that, the black clad superheroine and Triumvirate member swept out of the room, leaving us all to wonder.

Including me, because even though I had Hyperion record the call, I sure as hell wasn't going to listen.

...Yet.

I did make sure to help Alexandria leave the phasing field as she stormed out, though, because I didn't want to see what happened when someone whose body was hyper spatially compressed crystal crossed a phase gradient like what I'd created.

My Alteran memories informed me it wouldn't have been pretty… on their scale.

They considered moons detonating a mild inconvenience.

Like I said… not pretty.

Alexandria went to her area, picked up her phone, and when I returned my attention to my body I found I was once more the target of all the attention.

"Heh, so," I tried to nonchalantly state, running the back of my head, "what now?"

The answer turned out to be many, many questions and a lecture from pretty much everyone in the room on many different things.

Also they made me beam down Missy so she could be checked out by PRT doctors.

They didn't really believe me when I told them I was probably the most qualified person in the city to monitor her, but at least they had the consideration to look like they did.

Piggot didn't even tell me she was calling in Panacea! Of course, I heard it from her brain yelling it at me anyways, but still. It's the thought that counts.

I was starting to get worried about said Dallon when Alexandria slammed the door open and stormed back in.

I only quirked an eyebrow at her.

"What happened?" Director Piggot asked.

"Shipyard and I have a meeting with the President and Director Costa-Brown in DC in an hour," she declared.

The room went silent.

I couldn't believe what I'd just heard.

"...Come again?"

---

"Why the hell does the President want to talk to me?" I asked, totally not internally freaking out at all.

My state didn't prevent my ability to fly the Jumper with Alexandria, Dragon, and I up to the Hyperion, but that was only because of my new species.

My previously human brain wouldn't have been able to handle it.

Alexandria grunted from her chair. "Are you actually this dense or are you just acting, like my powers seem to think?" she shot back as a counter to my question. "I'd usually trust them but you yourself admitted to not being human anymore."

Dragon got an upset look on her face and rose to defend me, but I waved her down. Alexandria clearly took that little interaction into her legendary memory, and if I'd cared I would've probably talked to Dragon about the way she seemed to practically obey me, but I didn't and it definitely wasn't caused by any last minute surprises from her chains, I made quadruple sure of that, so I wouldn't begrudge her feeling grateful.

"Fine, you want to be fully clear?" I directed at the knockoff Kryptonian of the group.

Alexandria looked at me, straight in the eyes, and nodded. Once.

I sighed, long and drawn out. "I am aware, kinda, of what kind of weight I can throw around," I began to answer her, shaking my head. "But I don't want to. Just because I have the most advanced technology on the planet, probably the biggest guns, and beat an Endbringer doesn't mean I enjoy the results." I frowned and crossed my arms. This left the Jumper to autopilot its way the remaining distance to the Hyperion's now opening hangar bay. "Tattletale said I was the new gorilla. I don't want to be that gorilla. I will if I have to, but I'd rather not."

Alexandria searched my face, no doubt looking for deception, then her frown abated somewhat. "That's a decent stance to take," were her words in reply.

"Stop it, Alexandria," Dragon spoke up, "we both know that's a much more level headed outlook than half the Protectorate and most of the Wards-"

Before she could finish, the Jumper crossed the Hyperion's shield.

Alexandria, on the cusp of interrupting Dragon, collapsed like a puppet without any strings.

Dragon and I sat there in stunned silence for far longer than I'm willing to admit.

"SHIT!" I shouted, springing from my chair.

Damn damn damn! I should've guessed this would happen! The woman had a body practically made of the Shardling biocrystal! Of course she'd be unable to run it without that connection!

"Shipyard, what just happened?!" Dragon exclaimed.

“Uh-” I stammered, eyes darting around the cabin. I didn’t have any Legos on me! How stupid was I, to not have my power’s main ammo source on my body? I could just print any I wanted from the Beaming system on the Hyperion, I could’ve made a backpack to hold them and a modification of an Alteran uniform to hold tha-

Dragon grasped both my shoulders and brought her face into range of my vision, a stern look directed my way. I only barely noticed that she'd exited her armor in order to do so. “Weldon, snap out of it,” she ordered. “What happened to Alexandria, and how do we fix it?”

"I- I don't know!" I gasped out. I was barely cognizant of what I was saying, my mind whirling along at a speed likely only Dragon could match now. "She's- her body is a construct but her mind should be running on it, not from somewhere else!!" I began babbling, putting my hands on my face and dragging them down.

"Weldon! If I turn this ship around, will that fix her?"

"I DON'T KNOW! Crystalline constructs controlled from biological supercomputers in other realities is not what I signed up for and I have no idea!"

I was about to go off the deep end… but then my Shardling poked me.

[Data]

My babbling cut off and I stared, stunned, into the distance.

"Weldon? Shipyard!" Dragon called my name, trying to get my attention.

My Shardling had just told me what it guessed was Alexandria's situation. It couldn't give me a confirmation because apparently her own Shardling wasn't responding, but my own had grown to an incredible size due to my influence, according to it, and so it was… smarter was a bad term for the thing's new state, but close enough.

It told me what it guessed Alexandria's body mind relationship was.

And I was amazed.

"That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard, and I'm an Alteran," I deadpanned.

Dragon stopped trying to shake me, instead staring into my eyes with her own worried ones. "What?"

I signed and put a palm to my forehead. "Dragon, imagine how dumb something would have to be to seem incredibly stupid to a civilization which holds the record for having no wisdom and making idiotic mistakes."

Dragon blinked in bewilderment at me. "Again, what?"

I growled and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Nevermind, I'll explain it later when I don't feel like training myself on the nearest bulkhead." A sigh and o directed the powerful beaming arrays on the Hyperion to toss me a few Lego pieces. "I know how to fix her, and how to prevent this from happening again."

The white light and chime of the transport rang out above my outstretched hand as Dragon stared at me, even more confused.

I grunted and began assembling the pieces into what my Shardling said it could turn into a timeline isolation unit. "Long story and science lecture short, Alexandria's body is a crystalline construct not unlike the Endbringers which her mind pilots from her Shardling in another reality." I clicked the last two pieces together, ending up with a weird plus shaped arrangement of plastic. "The Hyperion's shield blocks the connection unless it's specifically white listed, which hers is not. Neither was Glory Girl's. Glory Girl fell out of the sky." I turned around and gestured back toward the slumped form of one of the most well known heroes on the planet. "She stops driving."

I tossed the Lego over my shoulder. It only made a tiny puff of displaced air as it realized, clunking onto the floor of the Jumper at the end of its arc.

Dragon took an impressively short amount of time to understand what I'd just said. "Wait, you know where powers come from?" aaand that was definitely not the question I expected.

I huffed, yanking the newly materialized piece of tech into my hand telekinetically. "Yeah, I do, and mine is really talkative. But I don't trust Alexandria entirely. You I do, since, well," I coughed into my hand awkwardly and looked anywhere but at Dragon, "I may or may not know you inside and out due to having to rewrite you to rip out all the control systems."

My blush was legendary, Hyperion's sensors informed me.

I sent back a scathing remark.

I swear my flagship giggled.

Dragon was blushing fairly heavily as well, but she was much better at discussing adult topics than I. "But you didn't see the inside of her head, so you can't trust her with this information," she deduced.

I nodded, not trusting my mouth.

"Why? She's one of the Triumvirate."

That wasn't scandalized, which meant Dragon was testing me. She didn't ask as if offended, more… curiously.

"Well, I can actually read her emotions and she's major grade conflicted and dead set on… something. Something overwhelming, that she feels she has to fight, but has little hope of actually winning. I don't know what that something is, but I can recognize desperation when I feel it."

Dragon watched me for a few more moments, then seemingly made up her mind. "Okay, we'll talk about the source of powers without her, when we can." She glanced behind me, out the Jumper window, and found what the Hyperion's sensors were already showing me; we were arriving. "Will that thing you made let her wake up?"

I nodded and started moving forward to put it on her. "Yeah. It'll open the connection for a moment, just enough to yank her mind through, then monitor her and run her body for her. Even if she doesn't have it on her, her mind will be safe inside."

Dragon smiled at me. "Good. Although, maybe… don't put it on her just yet?"

I hesitated, just about to drop the device onto Alexandria's costumed chest. I turned back to look at my AI superior and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Why not?"

Dragon looked hesitant to answer, but sighed and shook her head. "She isn't exactly the most calm person, and she's probably panicking right now, wherever she is. That device will give her the powers of her body, right?"

I nodded along, still not following very well.

"Do you have a containment system that can hold her? At least while she comes back to her senses? I can probably survive her hits, but you're organic."

"...Oh." I hastily jumped back from Alexandria's slumped form and shivered at the idea Dragon had put in my head. "Yeah, that's a really solid point, and thank you for having the good idea I missed entirely."

"You're welcome!"

---

The door to the primary brig slammed closed and locked with a rather annoying sound just after I tossed the device in my hand onto Alexandria's body.

"I go unconscious for two hours and you kidnap Alexandria," Tattletale deadpanned from next to me.

The BOOM as my boss I'd just temporarily imprisoned woke up, panicked, and slammed into the shield of the cell shook the air in the hallway.

"You don't really do subtle, do you?"

"I swear, this is not as bad as it looks. Right, Dragon?"

Another BOOM rocked the ship.

"We did not kidnap her. She just needs to calm down from being disembodied for a few minutes," the heroine supplied in my defense.

"...Honestly, I have no idea what to say to that," Lisa replied.

I groaned and dropped my head into my hands.

BOOM!

"She's going to stop that eventually, right?"

Head, meet palms. Now shake on it. "She'd better, because we're supposed to meet the President in like half an hour."

Lisa turned to me, shocked. "Say what?"

I directed the Hyperion to lift away from Brockton Bay and head towards Washington DC as Alexandria decided to wail on another equally tough shielded wall. "Long story, but we're going to DC. I hope you packed your toothbrush."

"You're taking me to see the President of the United States?!" She held a hand up to my forehead and affected concern. "Are you sick?"

I batted her hand away and threw her an unimpressed scowl. "I'm not sick. and yes, you're coming. You can use the transporters to make some clothes or whatever it is girls do. Who knows, but my memories say that you'll want that." I turned to Dragon and rolled my eyes. "You can too. The design programs are pretty good. You both have quarters on the ship, Alexandria is cooling off, and I need a session in my Throne to stave off this headache."

I turned around and headed back towards the bridge, waving behind me. "Just don't go into any of the Science Labs, and don't blow the ship or anything outside the ship up. Other than that, have fun."

I only barely heard the "Does he know what he just offered us?" from Lisa, but my mind was already elsewhere.

Namely, a comfy chair.

I wasn't going to meet the leader of my country on anything less than a full night's sleep even if I had to use temporal dilation around the Throne to achieve it.

I could go without sleep. As an Alteran I was capable of running my biology on zero point energy.

But it wasn't a great idea. Mental maintenance occurred while asleep, and with all the stuff that'd been happening, I needed to be fully alert and at my best for my upcoming meeting.

She deserved nothing less.

---

A/N: Alongside this chapter I have replaced Chapters 1 and 2 with their new, updated, revised versions, both to remove some cringe and bring them up to my current writing standards. All good things, new threads, but nothing important is gone. Enjoy!