The blaring sound of sirens pierced through the air, blending with the thunderous thump of helicopter blades as a black chopper lifted off, carrying an injured Hookwolf in desperate need of medical attention. A fleet of ambulances rumbled up the Hill, their presence adding to the symphony of noise. Overhead, news helicopters circled, their rotors creating a rhythmic hum that echoed in the background, and on the ground, reporters swarmed the parking lot, their voices overlapping as they bombarded the scene with questions, their cameras capturing long-range footage. The battle had been a spectacle, its effects visible from miles away. The sharp flashes of Knight Ripplescale's weaponry had lit up the sky like a distress signal, while the sound of gunfire had carried on the wind, reaching far and wide. Now, like vultures descending upon prey, the reporters descended upon the aftermath.
PRT agents worked tirelessly to keep them at bay, their authoritative presence a barrier against the relentless onslaught of questions. Nearby, troopers meticulously combed the area, their gridsearch pattern resembling a methodical dance as they searched for missing body parts. Troopers also stood guard over the trembling Empire capes and gangsters, their vigilance a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. It was like a scene out of the opening of some horror or serial killer film.
Colin should have felt a sense of relief, given the successful outcome of the battle. The Empire 88, or at least the capes that actually mattered, had been captured, all but Victor and Krieg. It was a swift and decisive battle, if a startlingly violent one.
All it had taken was Legend, the head of the Protectorate, being nearly assassinated on Colin's watch, and forced to fight a desperate battle, while the PRT and the Protectorate were distracted. At the same time Victor had been trying to kill Legend, Krieg, Purity, Night and Fog had led the Protectorate into a fight with ABB where both Oni Lee and Lung had shown up, turning it into a desperate three-way battle in the Docks, far from Captain's Hill. It had been a cunning plan for the Empire, and it had taken precious minutes for the Protectorate to disengage, minutes where Hookwolf made a good attempt at Battery's life. Minutes that gave Victor his almost-certain Kill Order, and maybe even the rest of the surviving Empire 88. Minutes that Knight Ripplescale had spent tearing through the Empire, maiming gangster and cape alike with their lightsaber.
The Case 53 in question spoke quietly with Legend and Battery, the three isolating themselves from the rest of the meadow, Legend leaning against an old oak tree while Battery stood on one foot, leaning against Knight Ripplescale. Colin liked Ripplescale. Still did, even after all this. If there was anyone who would understand the desire to let loose and de-hand some Nazis, it was him. But it was a serious breach of the Unwritten Rules, especially the maiming of the non-Parahumans by a hero, and would be viewed as an escalation by the Endslayer even if the Empire started it. The problem was that Ripplescale was a foreign cape with foreign senses of justice, how capes act, and what is viewed as acceptable levels of violence.
And hadn't that been a revelation to learn? Legend had taken aside Colin Sunday, and gave him an abbreviated history of Ripplescale, their Order and the Parahuman dynamic that had evolved on their Earth. And now the first signs of friction between cape culture, and Ripplescale's cultural mores had appeared, drastically so.
He approached the group, catching Legend's eye. Legend seemed to be filled with a sense of tired resolution, while Battery seemed to be deep in thought. Knight Ripplescale looked at him with their bright blue eyes. Colin cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. "Knight Ripplescale, may I have a word?" Colin asked politely.
Ripplescale nodded, their feathers rustling as they shifted their saurian bulk to face him. "Of course, Armsmaster. What is on your mind?"
Colin took a moment to gather his thoughts. He needed to approach this delicately, mindful of the cultural differences at play. "I wanted to discuss the recent events during the battle," he began. "Specifically, the level of violence and maiming inflicted by you on the non-Parahumans."
Ripplescale's expression remained impassive, but Colin could see a hint of something in their eyes. "I understand that your cultural norms may differ from ours, but it is important to adhere to the Unwritten Rules. Excessive violence, especially towards non-Parahumans, can lead to unintended consequences."
"Unintended consequences greater then me and my Initiates being ambushed and assaulted with lethal force?"
"Colin paused, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. "I understand that you and your Initiates were attacked, and I empathize with the need to defend yourselves," he replied. "But it's crucial to consider the bigger picture. If we deviate too far from the Unwritten Rules, we risk escalating the violence and causing more harm in the long run."
Ripplescale's feathers seemed to stiffen for a moment. "You mean the Unwritten Rules, who by their very nature are unenforceable? The Rules this Empire flagrantly breaks? The Rules that appear to specifically not apply to civilians, given the actions of villains daily across this country? Those Rules? You expect me to adhere to them, even in the face of lethal force? Do not make me laugh, Armsmaste," they said with cool disdain.
Colin paused, considering Ripplescale's words. It was true that the Empire had a history of disregarding the Unwritten Rules, but that didn't justify a hero stooping to their level, regardless of force used against them. He needed to find common ground. Dragon told him so, often.
"I understand your frustration," Colin replied, "and I agree that the Empire's actions are concerning." Battery coughed. "However, as heroes, we must hold ourselves to a higher standard. We have a responsibility to protect everyone, including non-Parahumans, and to uphold the principles that define us."
Ripplescale's tone was straightforward, and they twisted their head as if quizzical. "And that is very admirable, but if we don't respond forcefully, they will continue to harm innocent people, as they have for years, for decades. I cannot simply turn a blind eye to their atrocities, past, present and future. Those men I fought were seeking lethal harm. I could feel their intent through the Force, and I responded with as limited force as I was willing in that moment, while addressing their very real chance of killing Battery or Legend."
Colin couldn't hold back, his voice sharp and tinged with frustration. "Limited force? You cut their hands off with a swift stroke of your blade, like clockwork. There's nine ordinary American citizens missing their hand or forearm on this hill. I understand the urgency and the need to protect your… Initiates, but we must consider the consequences of our actions. By resorting to extreme measures, we risk escalating the violence and perpetuating a cycle of retaliation."
Legend spoke up. "The crux of the matter is that for Knight Ripplescale this was appropriate and proportionate, Armsmaster, and not a bought of excessive violence. They have spent three long years in brutal internecine warfare against villains seeking to overthrow their government. What they did was the action of a soldier, fighting a war. It may not have been proper, or convenient, for us, but for them it was the correct choice, faced with battle. And I honestly think things would have been worse if they hadn't acted so swiftly. Without their quick action to cauterize my wound with their protosaber, I wouldn't have entered my Breaker state and survived the second bullet. I could very well be dead."
Colin paused, taking in Legend's words. He understood the weight of Ripplescale's experiences and the context in which they operated. The truth was, he had never faced the same level of violence and desperation that Ripplescale must have endured, despite how Brockton Bay sometimes seemed. It was easy for him to advocate for more peaceful means when he hadn't experienced the horrors of war firsthand. And today had been an outsized battle, with several dozens worth of Empire footsoldiers targeting capes with assault weaponry, as well as multiple groups of capes attacking without holding back. A truly chaotic and complex situation to fight your way out of and one that would stymie even the greatest of heroes.
But Colin believed in the power of compassion and the potential for redemption. He had seen villains turn their lives around, given the opportunity. Assault was a valued member of the Protectorate. Would he have been so eager to join up, if his arm had been removed at the elbow during his capture? Colin didn't think so.
"I understand you've faced hardships, Ripplescale," Colin said, his voice filled with empathy. "And I respect the choices you've made based on those experiences. But we must remember that our duty as heroes is not just to protect, but to inspire. We must strive to be a beacon of hope, even in the darkest times."
Ripplescale's feathers ruffled, a mix of frustration and understanding evident on their face. "Hope can only get you so far, Armsmaster," they replied, their voice tinged with resignation. "Sometimes, the threat is too great, the danger too imminent. In those moments, hope alone cannot save lives. Action must be taken, even if it means crossing certain cultural boundaries you all appear to have that I do not. I apologize that my actions caused you so much trouble, but I am not sorry for the act itself. Those men meant lethal harm for me and mine, and I handled them accordingly."
Colin took a deep breath, grappling with the complexity of the situation. He couldn't ignore the truth in Ripplescale's words, nor could he abandon his own principles. The path forward seemed uncertain.
Legend spoke again before Colin could. "I think we're all going to have to agree to disagree for the moment. It's been a long day already, and I'd rather not listen to you two go in circles. Knight Ripplescale, is Battery healed?"
"She finished about half a minute ago," they spoke.
Battery gently, then steadily, put her foot down, before hopping a couple times. "Hey, good as new! Thanks, Ripplescale."
"Then lets get going. We need to address the crowd down there, and then I'm certain Director Piggot will want to say some things of her own to Knight Ripplescale," Legend said, in an even tone.
As they made their way down Captain's Hill to the parking lot, they were met with a scene of chaos. Flashing lights from parked squad cars mixed with the light of photography, creating a disorienting visual display. The air was filled with the cacophony of shouts and cries, accompanied by the piercing sound of wailing sirens. A crowd of journalists surged at the sight of them, their cries unable to be heard.
Legend approached the barricade and paused, the shouts and cries slowly dimming as he said nothing. When the crowd simmered down, he spoke.
"Today, as myself, Battery and Knight Ripplescale attended to our lessons on Captain's Hill, the Empire 88 attempted to assassinate me." He held up his right arm, ending a little past the elbow in a smooth pale cap. "Victor crippled me in his opening shot, and Kaiser proceeded to send almost every major cape in his roster against us, with intent to harm, deadly harm."
A roar went up, as questions flooded the air. Legend waited patiently for them to die down to a rumble before he continued.
"Thanks to the swift and decisive actions of myself, Battery and Knight Ripplescale, the battle was won, but at a cost. It is not a cost any of us have to bear, but instead a cost our enemies have to bear. In pursuit of ending the lethal battle as soon as possible, Knight Ripplescale resorted to removing hands and limbs of Empire 88 members, cape and non-cape alike." He paused, swallowing. "Knight Ripplescale is a foreign cape, from a different Earth, with different rules of engagement. What they and Earth Bet consider acceptable are two different things. The Protectorate does not condone their actions, but I personally believe that without the swift action of Knight Ripplescale leading to the activation my Breaker State, I would be dead right now."
The flood of questions returns, and this time Legend begins to answer them.
David stared wildly at the tv screen. "What did I say? What did I say?!" to no one in particular, alone in his home. It was on mute and showing the latest news, footage from a news helicopter of three figures with lightsabers fighting, and dicing, gang members. "I knew he was going to carve up Brockton Bay like the freak he is," he muttered.
Cricket? Maimed. Her right hand carved in half.
Stormtiger? Amputated. Missing his right hand and part of his forearm.
Hookwolf? Dying. Partial organ failure in multiple major organs from piercing his core and lancing him through with white hot plasma. It's not expected he live the night without Panacea, who was refusing to heal him.
Rune? Perfectly safe and being treated like glass in hopes of turning and joining the Wards and letting her gain something out of this massive clusterfuck.
Crusader? Injured. Both arms broken in multiple places and his jaw swollen shut. Battery did a number on him.
Menja? Maimed. Missing fingers and toes, and criss-crossed with cauterized flesh. Again, Battery. A disturbing pattern.
Fenja? Amputated. Missing her left foot and half her right hand.
Kaiser? Amputated. Covered in 1st and 2nd degree burns and his left arm at the elbow.
Victor? MIA, and considered highly dangerous and highly motivated to seek revenge.
Othala? Caught fleeing the scene in civilian disguise, having forgotten to change out of her eyepatch.
Krieg, Night, Fog and Purity were all also MIA, having fled the Docks after they distracted the Protectorate long enough. Kill Orders for all four were being drafted, the writing on the wall. The Empire 88 had attempted to kill the head of the Protectorate in seemingly cold blood. There could be no quarter left, according to the hotheads like Tagg.
Emily couldn't believe what had unfolded in her city as she was stuck in the PRT building. Nine capes arrested and seven of them left injured in the PRT hospital. It was a chaotic mix of emotions for her - a miracle that no one died yet, a coup in successfully apprehending the dangerous capes and the majority of the Empire's frontline roster in one fell swoop, and a disaster in the level of violence displayed by the Endslayer and the Empire alike.
As the news broke, Emily knew the press would have a field day with this. The violence exhibited by the Endslayer would undoubtedly make headlines and spark debates about the limits of power and the consequences of vigilante justice. It was a story that would sell, but it also highlighted the darker side of the cape world. Especially coming from one of the Endslayers, it may even cause there to be a boost in such violence, as hapless capes attempt to do what a Case 53 soldier thought was appropriate response.
Eidolon's warning about Ripplescale's violent tendencies echoed in Emily's mind. The enigmatic hero had mentioned it during their strange phone call just days ago. But she hadn't anticipated the extent to which Ripplescale would go. The brutal act of cutting off limbs and hands, both the capes, and especially a number of the Empire's footsoldiers, showed a disturbing willingness to break or ignore the Unwritten Rules and unleash wanton violence for a hero.
Emily couldn't help but wonder what drove Ripplescale to such extremes. Was it a deep-rooted anger or a twisted sense of justice from their own Earth? Whatever the reason, it was clear that this cape posed a significant threat to both heroes and villains alike, and when she asked them why they resorted to such a level of violence, Ripplescale had the audacity to make some odd noise that apparently meant laughter, according to Joslyn when Emily asked her afterwards. She didn't like what many of the noises the cape made meant.
"You ask me why? You really do not understand? They intended to kill me, so I put them down with quickly and with sufficient force, like you do with any gangster whose blaster is bigger than their brain and means to do wanton savagery. Removing their hands or limbs was the quickest, most sufficient path forward through the chaos of battle, to end a lethal engagement with as little casualties as possible."
Exactly not what Emily wanted to hear from the cape. Oh, she understood the logic. But it was a soldier's logic and not a hero's.
"It's not your place to make that kind of decision. What you did was not justice, it was violence and cruelty, plain and simple, and has no place in our United States of America," Emily told the Case 53.
"It has no place in your United States?" A falling whistle. "I have spent time studying and listening. I have examined parts of your local hypernet and let me ask you something, Director Emily Piggot," they said, their voice calm and methodical.
"How many brilliant minds and kind hearts do their initiations have to snuff out? How many Brockton Bay capes have to be sent to Gesselschaft for brainwashing, snatched off the streets by the Empire and sentenced to hell on Earth? How many lives ruined, homes destroyed and business burnt down, dreams shattered? How many, before you stop playing your game of Cops and Robbers and start handling the villains that live in your city, Director? These men, this Empire," they hissed, their tail stiff and trembling, feathers flattened, their calmness gone, "seeks to restore Nazis to power. I have read about these Nazis. It sickens me that seventy years later, people like that are still allowed to exist, and spew their hateful views without a care, without threat. That the Empire 88 was allowed to operate with impunity for so long. What I have done today, I have no regrets. No regrets at all."
Emily bristled at the unending accusations, the disdain in the Case 53's voice by the end, the sheer emotion in their body. Oh my god, she thought half in wonder and half fright, this is a cape that truly hates me.
She snapped. "Everything I've done is to keep this city alive, and today you risk that with your blatant and flagrant violations of the Unwritten Rules. Kaiser and Stormtiger are missing arms, for God's sake, and Fenja her foot. And that's to say nothing else, like what you apparently taught Battery to do, maiming Menja like she was in a torture flick and practically killing Hookwolf. As far as the ridiculous accusation I let the Empire operate when I've spent every goddamn day of my life fighting them, with a shoe string budget and a gaggle of mad capes, I'll let that slide, once. Once. But as for the rest, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"One, I did nothing beyond communicating a fraction of the suffering that these men have imposed on others in an act of self-defense. If they did not wish to suffer consequences, they should not commit actions. Two, I acted to end a potentially lethal situation with as limited violence as I had available to me. I am a… Monk of the Path. Disarming my opponent is the kinder option, when I wield my lightsaber. It is not a kind option, but the kinder. Death comes for us all but it needed not come for anyone today. Three, I taught Battery the basics of how to defend herself in the time we've had training our blades, and if she used that it to take on a killer like Hookwolf and win, and more importantly, survive? I am proud of my student, Director."
They just didn't get it, so Emily explained in plain language. "Capes will see what you've done, how far you're willing to go, and they'll escalate. Expect permanent harm and maiming to be on the table going forward, since you've selected them as options. Every time you escalate, expect other capes to escalate in response. That's how this whole thing works. Stay in your lane and don't cause trouble? No trouble gets caused for you. Make your way into other lanes and cause trouble? The hammer comes down on you. You've just jumped three lanes, causing a pileup. And you haven't just embroiled yourself in it, you brought Legend and Battery into this mess."
Piggot took a sip of water, trying to settle her nerves, as the cape stared at her with those beady eyes. "You will be confined to base for the immediate future and escorted around the city, while the situation with the Empire settles. Victor is still missing and a danger to all of us, as shown by his attempt to kill Legend."
Knight Ripplescale let out a wheezing noise, a kind of braying. "No, I don't think that I will."
Emily raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You will not confine me because my sense of justice and due punishment differs from your own, or because your world's bizarre cultural artifacts says my actions are uncouth and improper, yet allow the villains to do the same, unchecked."
Emily stared at Ripplescale in disbelief. "This isn't a negotiation. You've caused a massive incident and escalated violence to an unacceptable level. You will be confined to base for your own safety and to prevent further destabilization of the situation. There will be those seeking revenge and I don't need more maimed American citizens."
Ripplescale's three eyes narrowed, and their feathers ruffled. "I am not one of your subordinates to be ordered about, Director. I acted in defense of myself and others against a group that intended lethal harm. Their injuries are a consequence of their own choices and actions. I will not take responsibility."
"That's not how we handle things here," Emily snapped. "There are rules and procedures in place for a reason. You can't just maim villains as you see fit!"
"I can and I will act how I deem necessary. Your rules have allowed groups like the Empire to flourish and terrorize innocents, a revolving door inside your prison letting capes continually escape or get broken free. Well not anymore," Ripplescale countered, a tense resolution in their voice. "I will not stand idly by while such evil persists, especially if it waves a slugthrower in my face. I will handle it like a Monk. If you wish to confine me, you are welcome to try, but I warn you it will not end well."
Emily's face flushed with anger at the continued accusations. "Is that a threat?"
"Merely a statement of fact," Ripplescale said, before taking a deep breath and exhaling, looking at Emily straight in the eyes. "I am not your subordinate, nor am I beholden to your rules. I will continue to act as I see fit to protect this city and its people from those who would do them harm. It is my duty as a Monk of the Light. If that conflicts with your procedures, so be it. I will do my duty, know the Light guides my path, and be content with that which comes."
Emily took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. This situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. "Knight Ripplescale, I understand you believe you were acting in the best interests of the people and of justice by committing the actions you have today, but please try and understand. We have these rules and procedures in place for good reasons. Escalating violence like this will only lead to more violence and chaos. We need to work within the system to bring criminals to justice, not take matters into our own hands, and becoming judge, jury and executioner."
Ripplescale's tail swished back and forth as they considered Emily's words. After a moment, they spoke, their voice calm but firm. "Director Piggot, I hear your concerns. But I must respectfully disagree. Your system, your rules, have allowed groups like the Empire and the ABB to blossom for far too long. They terrorize innocents, spread hatred, and corrupt your society. Allowing them a foothold was a step too far, and allowing them to flourish like they have? You have introduced a virus into the body politic, a virus that must be hunted down, and its evil pulled up by the roots, lest it infect another generation, growing in the warm, dark hearts of man. With their leaders disabled and in chains, the Empire will collapse into squabbling tribes easily handled by your law enforcement, and I can focus on the ABB next. I am perfectly suited for this type of mission, having dealt with these types of organizations back on Coruscating Light."
Emily stared at Ripplescale in disbelief, her frustration mounting. Were they mad? "You can't just declare war on the gangs like this, single-handedly. There are consequences, ripple effects that impact the entire city. We have to consider civilian safety, economic impacts, potential power vacuums. It's not as simple as just taking out the leaders."
"Perhaps not," Ripplescale conceded. "But allowing them to continue operating with impunity is no longer an option. I will not stand idly by while evil festers and grows. If you wish to work with me to dismantle these criminal organizations that infest your city in a more... measured way, I am open to that. But make no mistake—they will be dismantled, one way or another."
The conversation between continued just as intense and lasted for an hour. During this time, they delved into several thought-provoking topics that had Emily's blood boiling. These topics ranged from the boundaries of justice and the conflicting opinions regarding the use of maiming, the greater Protectorate and PRT's failure to assist Brockton Bay in any meaningful way, to Ripplescale's bold claims about Piggot's role in perpetuating a failing status quo, and Emily's firm, loud, stance on holding Ripplescale responsible for any rise in violence against the Protectorate resulting from their actions. In short, it was an absolute shitshow and not what Emily wanted to deal with.
When the Case 53 left the room, their tail stiff in the air, Emily pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. As the Director of the ENE PRT, Emily had always believed in following proper procedures and maintaining oversight to ensure the safety and well-being of both heroes and civilians. But today's events had shaken her convictions. The Empire 88, a notorious gang with ties to white supremacy and dangerous ideologies, had crossed a line by targeting Legend, the head of the Protectorate. Their actions had left a trail of destruction and violence in their wake. Violence a hero committed.
While she understood the urgency to dismantle the Empire, Emily couldn't help but question the methods employed by Knight Ripplescale. Maiming and amputating nine gang members, and that's excluding capes, felt excessive and morally questionable. It challenged the principles she had dedicated her career to upholding. And the worst thing of all, is that Ripplescale did not even seem bothered by it. They held no remorse for the violence they did, cape or otherwise.
Emily knew the Empire needed to be stopped, but she couldn't shake off the unease that came with accepting such extreme measures, especially from a cape, and a Case 53 at that. You never knew what was going on in a Case 53 brain. They just were built differently from humans, unique, alien. It showed today with Ripplescale's obstinance to admit their violence was overzealous; it was their predatory mind. Made them violent, like Eidolon said.
But for now, she needed to set aside her doubts and focus on the immediate task at hand—ensuring the safety of the city and its inhabitants. The aftermath of the Empire's collapse would require careful handling, both in terms of public perception and the inevitable power vacuum that would arise. Whichever gang came next out of this, and there would be one, would hopefully prove to be less of a perpetual problem as the Empire had been.
The beach was empty, stony and sandy. The wind rustled the sea grass, the waves pounded the shore, and the cries of seagulls echoed across the bay as Ripplescale simply sat and listened, feeling the life in all things that surrounded them, meditating on their place. It was much easier to decompress after a bought of violence in a place like this, than in the stark mediation room aboard a Venator. Jax had taken to filling them with plantlife but it wasn't enough.
They had been angry today. Angry that those men almost killed their Initiates. Would have. Keith and Joslyn only survived today because of the Force, and because they trusted the Force. And because Ripplescale had remembered that they weren't children and would sometimes need lightsaber blades to do what they were made to do. Because for all a lightsaber was a tool, it was a weapon first. They had done the right think, and their initiates had done the right thing, because they had survived.
They were angry Piggot but really, they were angry at Cauldron. The Empire 88 would never exist in a world without the ridiculous Parahuman Feudalism 'experiment', and or if they did, they wouldn't be near as much trouble as they were. This was their fault, one way or another, and in the end, Ripplescale would like to think they'll make them pay for almost costing them the only two other Force Sensitives on the planet.
They had not expected the PRT to be so… upset with their actions. It's possible that they had been overly aggressive in their determination to end the battle the Empire 88 had started, but the Clone War had ingrained in them the understanding that the longer a skirmish persisted, the more swiftly death approached. And losing their Initiates was never going to be an option for Ripplescale.
Men armed with lethal weaponry, unable to be easily restrained or put down by stun blasts or some other form of less-lethal weaponry, in a chaotic battlefield with multiple 'Sith' meant resorting to Shii-Cho in its most potent form and disarming the opponent with speed and force. It was simply what was done, how a Jedi acted. They didn't take enjoyment out of the violence, nor satisfaction, much, like the Director seemed to think. It was a logical choice. If the enemy is handless, they cannot operate their weaponry and potentially kill someone.
These Unwritten Rules… They spat on the beach, a flicker of anger in their heart. A stricture surely invented by Cauldron to twist and turn this world into a parody of justice, where villains got to go home at the end of the day and put their masks up after committing all kinds of crimes. The Rules were strictly upheld by heroes, while villains showed as little regard for them as they could get away with, causing the heroes to be handicapped in their ability to deliver justice, thinking it somehow more moral to let villains act with impunity.
Then they sighed and let go of the anger. There were many things to be angry at Cauldron about, they did not need to make one up. Instead, they began focusing on their emotions, examining them as one would precious jewels, then casting them into the ocean of the Force.
Sometime later, their thoughts somewhat settled as the sun cast the scene in brilliant orange, an older gentleman came and sat beside them. He had dark skin and a bushy white beard, a cream knit sweater and dark pants, and a kind smile. He felt curious and happy in the Force.
"I'm surprised to see you so lonely," he said. "Shouldn't you be out celebrating, big guy?"
"Why do you say that?" Ripplescale asked the man, curiously.
"The Empire is dead, my scaley man. You taught Kaiser a lesson he ain't ever going to forget, and all his little Nazi friends too. They're shouting your name in the hood, and Little Japan, Koreatown, and all the enclaves in Brockton Bay. You're a hero, man. Heroes shouldn't be sitting alone on the beach, sulking. They need to be amongst the people, man, partying."
They considered the man's words. Perhaps a visit to unfamiliar parts of the city would be best, something to lift their mood and see the direct results of their actions, something to get the bitter taste of argument out of their mouth. "How does one get to this 'Hood' or 'Little Japan'?"
The man grinned. "Ron Hilcrest," he said, putting out a hand. "And I'll be more than glad to take you to the Block Party in the Hood. It's going to be a wild one tonight. Everybody's going to be out."
They shook it and said, "Ripplescale Redfeather, Monk of the Light."
Fitting into his vehicle was a bit of a hassle, and uncomfortable but Ripplescale made it work. When they parked, they could already hear pounding music and shouts, which grew louder as they walked down the street with Ron, people milling in the streets and calling out to them as they passed, the crowd parting around them.
"Is that him?!"
"Them, idiot," another said, punching the first.
"Holy shit, the Endslayer's here?!"
"DEATH TO THE EMPIRE! LONG LIVE KNIGHT RIPPLESCALE! WOOOOOOOOH!" screamed one man without a shirt on, shaking his belly back and forth, already intoxicated.
So on and so forth, the cries came out over the sound of music and the crowd, as Ron led them through the party. Smoke smelling of strange citrus and pine filled the air, and beverages were in every hand. People passed what looked like fat deathsticks with that pungent smoke, laughing and cheering. They could feel the burgeoning hope, the joy and the relief of these people. Many of them were dark in their pigmentation, a target of the Empire, and what Ripplescale had done brought them much needed relief.
For hours they shook hands, spoke with people, listened to their stories, and, of course, ate wonderful food cooked in the street or in open homes and drank cheap but refreshing beverages called 'beer'. It was difficult listening to stories of the crimes of the Empire 88, knowing they were a microcosm of the pain and suffering surely being experienced not only by Ripplescale's own people but many non-humanoid aliens in the Corsuca Galaxy. It was also hard, knowing that all this could have been prevented if Cauldron hadn't wanted to make this city into a testbed for their ridiculous notions. But these were hopeful, happy, joyful people, and so Ripplescale did not let dark emotions overwhelm them, instead taking small moments to release them into the Force, focusing on the joy of connection.
People spoke about everything and anything with them, they spoke about their hopes and dreams, their fears, their desires and wants. They spoke about family and friends lost to the Empire, about their favorite homegrown capes who seemingly disappeared, about business burnt and lives wrecked. But they also spoke about their hopes for the future, and their dreams they'd never given up, about their desires for change, for a better Brockton Bay, a desire that they felt could see fruition now with the Empire a shambling corpse. They spoke about their fears, irrational and rational, of Endbringers coming or the Butcher returning or even, some whispered, the Slaughterhouse Nine making their way back. And throughout it all, Ripplescale spoke and offered what advice they could, or simply listened when that was needed, letting their instincts guide them as well as memories of doing such a thing, years before, when they were a young Knight and rescued a town from a group of long-term violent gang-squatters that had committed crimes with impunity. They were much worse at it then, they thought amusedly.
So when they found themselves cornered by a young woman, a streak of purple in her hair, begging to be a Padawan, they didn't immediately say no, intrigued by her apparent knowledge of their true nature.
"Please? I've watched the footage of Captain's Hill, and its like swoosh, zoom, zwee, you're dancing about tearing through those fuckin' Nazi's like they're paper. That's what I want, I want to be like that, so graceful and fast that they can't handle me."
Ripplescale sighed. "Young one, I cannot begin to tell you how wrong of a way to approach this that is. Violence should not be cherished or desired, but meted out with as little passion as possible. Something I myself should focus on better. There is far more to being what I am then wielding a lightsaber." They paused and let out a whistling sigh. "Something I need to remember, as well."
The girl frowned, "But the lightsaber is the best part about being a Jedi, it's like a sword but cooler! I mean, I like the Force, and telekinesis would be nice, but really, it's the laser sword."
"And that, young one, is why I won't be teaching you. Your desire will lead you down dangerous and murky paths. The Force is not a toy, or just a tool, it is something far more encompassing and beautiful. And when twisted to the wrong ends, disastrous."
The girl grinned at them. "You said it. You said the Force. You really are a Jedi! They were right!" She did a little fist pump.
They glanced around, and found only a few others listening in, and sighed. "Yes. Yes, I am a Jedi Knight of the Galactic Republic." They waited for laughter, and amusement, and got some but none from the girl, surprisingly. Instead, she radiated satisfaction and glee.
"I'm Aisha, by the way. I read all the rumors on PHO, and I've seen all the videos of you and Legend and Battery, and I'm a Truther! This is so cool," she gushed rapidly, "I have so many questions, like why are you here? Did you mean to or was it an accident? What's the last thing you were doing, before you fought the Simurgh? Did you know—"
They held up a clawed hand, and she stopped. "Young Aisha, please, one question at a time. And let me ask you this, what is a 'Truther'?"
"Oh, well, you see, on PHO there's two camps of thought about you and your powers and the whole 'Jedi' rumors. There's the Truthers and the Fakers. Truthers think, well, you're the real thing. There's other Earths out there, billions of them scientists think, so why not other galaxies, far far away? And dimensional travel is real, so a lot of things are possible. Fakers think it's all fake, for a variety of reasons. Some think that its all a ploy to get people to distrust the Endslayer, while others think it is some cry for attention, and so on and so forth. Their reasons are many. But yeah… I'm a Truther! And I was right! Brian is going to eat crow."
"There are rumors about me?" they asked, confused. They had only told a very few people they were a Jedi Knight before their experience with Amy told them to keep it quiet.
"Yeah, some Australian cape, Mauve-something? Anyway, she posted with her official account that you might be a Jedi Knight, including evidence, and that started the ball rolling and people started coming out of the woodwork, capes who witnessed you in Canberra doing impossible things like reacting before things happen, and out-TKing the freaking Simurgh, and of course all your daily meditations and martial arts and you're a crazy telekinetic. It all fits and got people thinking. When Panacea came out as a Truther yesterday, it almost broke PHO."
They really need to check the local hypernet more often, if this was happening. What's the point of pretending to be a Monk of the Path, if a good chunk of the world thinks they're a Jedi? They'll need to consult with Keith about their path forward. They would much rather fully live their truth and be accepted.
"Amy came to my defense?" they asked, feeling a bit of pride. They should really visit the Dallons again, and see if there wasn't anything they could do for the girl. She was such a little bundle of misery that really needed a friend and Ripplescale hadn't even checked back in with her. They resolved to do so as soon as possible.
"Yeah, said you don't have any human DNA, that you didn't evolve on Earth, and that she believes you're a Jedi Knight. Like I said, it almost broke PHO. People went nuts, the thread had to be locked because of the Faker flame wars that started badmouthing Panacea. Like, holy crap! Badmouthing Panacea? Now, are you going to answer my questions?"
"I am not sure why I am here," they lied, "but the Force will guide me where I need to be. I did not mean to come here, and the last thing I remember," they paused and took a deep breath, "was Order 66."
The glee that had been bright and cheery curdled and crumbled.
"You died?" Aisha asked, a tinge of mournfulness in her tone.
"I almost died, until I was sent here," they clarified. "I was close to becoming one in the Force when something snatched me and brought me here."
"And then you went on to kill an Endbringer…" Aisha said with wide eyes, considering the circumstance. "Woah. You're freaking bad-ass, Knight Ripplescale! Like, to go from that to Canberra, and win? Hardcore. I couldn't do it. I'd probably cry my butt off."
"Thank you, I suppose," they sighed. That day had been a long one.
"You really think you're a Jedi," stated one of the men who'd been listening to them talk.
"I am," they nodded. "It may seem difficult to believe but—"
The man waved him off, slightly slurring as he said, "Superheroesh were stuck in comic books until the 80s, whose to say Jedi won't find themselves popping out of the shinematic woodwork now? It may be a more than a bit ridiculoush, but so was Scion, a naked golden man running around saving kittens and stopping volcanoes like some kind of retarded Shuperman. Perhaps you're the Scion of a new era," he mused, eyeing them with a slightly glazed look. Others around him seemed intrigued by the notion, looking at Ripplescale with new eyes.
They hoped to be nothing like Scion, the avatar of the golden worm, but in the most barest of ways, doing good and shaping the world positively.
"Perhaps," they replied. "Perhaps I am a sign of something new," Ripplescale conceded.
"If you're a Jedi, what's Coruscant like?" asked another, younger man, maybe twenty with curly dark hair and a grin, like he was catching Ripplescale out in a trap.
"Coruscant, more than anything else," they began, "is loud. Loud in the Force, and loud audibly, the wind endlessly rushing as the Climate Controllers kept Corsuscant cool and the endless traffic hummed. Over a trillion beings live on Coruscant, and the gleaming surface of near-orbital towers where the Jedi Temple resides is just the tip of the iceberg." They continued, waxing lyrical about sunrises and sunsets, about the stark urban beauty, and the streams of aerial traffic like arteries, and all sorts of aspects of upper Coruscanti life.
Answering that opened a floodgate of questions, from Aisha, and the young man, Timmy, and other folks listening in around them that joined, and as the night progressed Ripplescale found themselves telling tales of the Corsuca Galaxy to curious minds, sharing stories of battles fought on distant planets, the intricate politics of the Galactic Senate, and the grandeur of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Aisha and the others were enthralled, hanging onto every word as Ripplescale painted vivid pictures with their descriptions.
As the night wore on, the atmosphere shifted from amusement and doubt to awe and excitement. Ripplescale's presence, their connection to the Force, and their tales of adventure had captivated all who heard, even if they were uncertain how true it was. It was as if a spark of hope had been ignited in their hearts, reminding them that even in the face of darkness, heroes could emerge.
Aisha leaned in closer, her eyes shining with anticipation. "Tell us more about the Force," she said excitedly, her voice filled with reverence.
Ripplescale smiled, realizing the impact their words had on these people. They began to explain the concept of the Force, describing its light and dark sides, the Jedi Code, and the importance of maintaining balance. The audience hung onto every word, soaking in the wisdom and philosophy that came with being a Jedi. It was a good reminder for them as well, explaining and re-explaining to confused and drunken humans exactly what the Code meant helped them clarify it for themself.
As midnight hit with no sign of the Block Party ending, Ripplescale couldn't help but reflect on the power of storytelling. It had the ability to transport people to different worlds, to ignite their imaginations, and to instill a sense of purpose. They hoped that their encounter had planted seeds of courage and compassion, just as the Jedi teachings had done for them, though they failed them at times.
With renewed determination, Ripplescale continued, knowing that their role as a Jedi was not just about fighting battles but also about inspiring others to be heroes in their own right. The Force flowed through them, guiding their path as they sought to bring Light to a world that was on the brink of the end.