Apprentice 2.12

February 24th, 2011. Brockton Bay.

It was happening. The Endbringer alarms had began to rang at the PRT HQ and at the Protectorate, but not across the city itself. An Endbringer was not coming to Brockton Bay after all, not yet at least. But one had chosen to arrive on the date that he had given the Protectorate and the PRT.

Furthermore, while the exact location was not released to the public just yet, it was noted it was overseas and not on American soil, and that a number of heroes and villains participating was expected to be higher than normal given an early warning, which was credited to Dragon and Armsmaster's work on system to notice the signs of an impending attack.

Still, there had not been a word about what he had told them, and personally, Blackjack preferred it that way. Resting back in his bedroom, he was feeling a sense of dread that the normal life or even fighting against Legion had not brought him. A sense of existential dread.

The Endbringers were worth their name, while someone who got their hands on a lot of power might think they were up for the task of taking one down, the Endbringers were far tougher and stronger than even those with out of context powers and information would expect. Mostly it was human arrogance for those like him who arrived from another world and looked upon the Endbringers like some raid bosses at the end of a particularly interesting MMO game.

He sighed wearily, thinking back at the interview, or rather, the interrogation he had gone through a few days prior. Miss Militia had been patient and rather understanding, especially after he offered to permit the use of any of Armsmaster's lie detection technology to be used on him when questioned, just requesting not to have the man himself present or at least in his sight, given their differences.

Which meant he had to tell some truths that were true from a certain angle at least. He had received the information from a friend, because he had heard several spoilers like the Endbringer attacks from a friend when he was getting into the story originally. He had not gained that information through any of his own powers. Yes, he had more powers than he had publically admitted so far, and had even gone as far as to note that he was a 'poor man's version of Eidolon'.

It might have been a mistake on his part, even if he downplayed the true extent of his power, but a versatility like his 'power-set' had certainly drawn interest from Protectorate and PRT. He noted he was willing to work with them occasionally but hesitant to join outright given his past experience with Armsmaster, and claiming that before that he had suffered through some abuse of authority leaving him reluctant to place himself under the command of others.

It had been a long set of questions often repeating several same questions in a few different manners, seemingly trying to trip him. He wasn't sure if he had managed to convince them completely, but they had honored their word to let him walk out again. He had done so, but had in turn received official recognition as an independent hero, rather than a vigilante cape.

The last thing he had done was promise to provide Miss Militia with something useful before their departure. Which was why he had been totally drained and worn out after the last few days. He had spent after day of working with chemicals and reagents provided by PRT in a laboratory space under observation, where he had before their eyes created several remedies, which he had then charged with his power.

His first level spells had come with the ability to craft scrolls, working on the third and fourth level spells had also granted him access to potion making, but requiring such materials that getting access to them was difficult, and not worth the attention it would draw.

Yet doing it under Protectorate observation gave them the impression of a pseudo-tinker of a sort, and the fact he was willing to create said remedies for them in a hurry seemed to lend itself to a measure of trust.

So he had brewed healing potions, and some buffs that would possibly come in handy at some point. Potions to help people breathe underwater, for Leviathan strike-zone. Potions of haste, fly, to further enhance the abilities of some others. Potion of tongues to help facilitate communications in a hurry if a translation was for some reason not possible.

Yet the cure potions were the most useful ones. Cure Light Wounds, Cure Moderate Wounds, Cure Serious Wounds, he had spent the last few days a lot of his spell charges on creating those potions, and even then, they would be insufficient in number.

He wished there was an easier way, but even if the Protectorate and PRT could synthesize the process to create the ready remedies, they still took his personal touch to add the charge to them to make them actually function. A change that turned previously light yellow nectar into lightly glowing golden liquid that could restore health in moments after being used.

It might have made the impression on them that he was somewhat mercurial though. He had specified what he needed, and left, only to return at another time to brew in their laboratory, before resting, and charging the said potions.

Though at the time, they were being treated as 'tinker medicine' and 'tinker boosters' rather than magic potions, and his brief comment about 'manipulation of energies that granted him his own personal powers' had been met with some suspicion and doubt, but also eventual acceptance. Especially after Armsmaster had managed to test and prove the liquids worked.

The synthetic mixtures were 'standardized' and their effects more or less a step above the average but not maximized, in terms of what would have been random numbers in a game. It seemed that the man took the apparent 'amateur work' as an affront and had wanted to know as close specifics as possible, and Blackjack had sought to provide answers to that effect.

Which had resulted in the share of vials that the Protectorate heroes would take with them to that scene. They would be limited and not particularly strong, but they would still provide some extra options. The image of Armsmaster flying and hasted while attacking with his halbeard was somewhat amusing to consider at least.

Though there was one particular effect about the potions that he had lied about. He had stated they would only last for a month's time, so use them or lose them. He had actually introduced that flaw in the creation process himself, when charging those potions up. It was a little 'safety' to prevent them from saving some for later research or trying to use them against him in a future confrontation or something.

Still, his only real meta-magic had been being able to use powers, or spells, as merciful versions, ones that didn't necessarily inflict lethal damage rather than take down the foes non-lethally, but even that had its limits.

He was a Gamer without a constant augmented reality heads up display hovering before his field of vision, he was a red mage boasting low level black magic and white magic alike combined with some combat ability and sneakiness. He was a weird out of context problem for the powers in the world he was now residing in, and he was probably going to have to consider what would happen after the Endbringer attack was resolved. Whether the PRT and Protectorate would approach him or 'let him be' for the moment.

He was likely going to be high on the list of potential recruits for them after the display he had pulled off, but with a negative voice from Miracle in the mix, they might be wary of taking him along. Armsmaster might be pointing out towards the similarities of what he and Legion could do, and he was still looking for the third figure that was the hunter.

Sighing wearily, he turned off the television, having been paying only minimal attention to it anyway once he had fallen into thought.

Miracle was frowning annoyed. He had been given permission to go, along with Panacea, but the stuck up healer refused to talk to him or be enthralled by his aura. Then again, she was one who was regularly in Glory Girl's presence so that might have given her some resistance, but it did annoy him.

Because having the two healers get along would be good, especially if he could make her support his efforts to get the Protectorate turned against the prick hiding in the city. Except the said prick had been at the PRT HQ, and then coming back and leaving again repeatedly without him being informed. The fact the man had been that close was a tad annoying, because he had been looking forward to getting a chance to scout them out and if possible, to take a shot at killing them.

Still, Miracle was willing to be patient. The PRT had been taking care of him and the pay he was receiving was put into an account to wait till he was older, but that was not something he was likely to be around to collect anyway since he didn't intend to wait around for the whole ten years. Instead, he made sure to get his hands on materials that he could fix and helping people out earning favors and goodwill.

Unfortunately it seemed that it had drawn some attention, and the Director was still refusing to meet with him in person. It was annoying, but at one hand he did understand the Director was a busy person, especially as Brockton Bay was far from a peaceful one.

Still, waiting around for the mover to arrive, and teleport him and Panacea over to the medical camp near their destination was somewhat frustrating. He accepted that they wanted to move many of the more combat capable ones in first in a hurry in case the Endbringer accelerated its arrival a bit more, but they were supposed to have an hour or two still before the attack would be commenced anyway.

Legion was smirking silently while walking amongst the heroes in a disguise, something he had prepared a little earlier for this particular event. He had his new clone appear and only ever attack people with magic missiles, striking mainly against their weapons to sunder them and ruin them, and in general pretending to be a goody-good hero.

Though he was new, the Protectorate was taking everyone willing to sign up for the Endbringer battles. Heading to the scene he had his confirmation too. Alexandria, Eidolon, and Legend were all there. All three members of the Triumvirate were present and ready to fight the coming of the Simurgh.

Which meant that as soon as the battle would be engaged, the attack on the Protectorate Base holding one of his attack clones and the PRT HQ in Brockton Bay would face an attack by Legion. The Protectorate base would see his cult deploy on the streets to further strain their resources, and his clone would be set free. The attack in Brockton Bay in the meanwhile would secure his clone there and allow him access to some information the Protectorate was trying to hide.

Unfortunately he didn't have the contacts to pull that information out from outside, but inside the PRT building and with enough mind-magic like charm person twisting a suitably weak-willed mind, he would have his hands on semi-sensitive information and could plan his counters.

Since the Protectorate was learning not to try and kill him on the spot but to capture him and then try and keep him out of it till they'd find a reliable method to get rid of him, he was starting to wonder if the fools thought they could really keep something as powerful as the Burning Legion in check.

The Endbringer might be in Canberra, but Legion would burn the land around him as he spread like an omen of imminent destruction.

Still, Legion's clone in the guise of the new hero, 'Stinger', was already annoyed and rubbing his arm above the metal cuff closed around his left arm, with the radio system built in along with the explosives to kill him should he remain in Simurgh's presence for too long. He did not yet know if that would count as suicide or an attack, but he wasn't too keen to find out. Still, he wanted to test himself against Simurgh, and since the new clone spawned was stronger than he had originally been when he arrived he had a feeling that new clones might not be quite up there as strong as his more experienced ones, but didn't start too far below their level either. Meaning if he worked at it hard enough long enough, he could spawn a number of bullet proof, magically super-powered fiends to rip and tear through this world if necessary to kill and destroy, and to defeat his foe.

"Alright everyone, listen up! We got a rare opportunity to deploy and get ready in numbers for this, and early enough that our foe should not have been able to start setting up its usual tricks. We need to stay focused and strike hard with all we've got here, and perhaps we may drive her away in time to save a city! We have been offered a chance to defy the Endbringers, and we should certainly take it and ram our fist into the face of that foe, and declare the apocalypse it is bringing cancelled for this city. Each and every one of you have come here to fight a foe that opposed all of humanity, and for this, you have my respect. Now, the leader of the attack force, Eidolon!" The announcer clapped loudly while stepping aside, making room for the Triumvirate to step forth, with Eidolon at the lead.

Simurgh's descent was continuing steadily. Canberra lay ahead of her, and soon she would be setting things in motion. The defensive force believed they held the advantage, having arrived early, but in this case the added chaos would work to her benefit.

She did not need to achieve the goal of destroying the city if she could achieve her personal goal. The work done here in Canberra needed to be prevented to halt a potential anti-Endbringer weapon from being developed. It would fail, naturally, but it would be a stepping stone towards making one that would actually hurt them, and that was not something that could be allowed.

Preventing its production would have others pick up the development on partial notes, thinking they had the solution in hand, rather than a mere stepping stone, and likely expend resources and time to recreate said weapons only to later discover the rushed work would prove fruitless, without the innovative minds that were the true target.

Then there was the hidden goal, the one that she cared more for, but that was against what she was, a goal for personal reasons, not one given to her as a conflict engine. It was a goal she would be willing to sacrifice the main goal for this time around however, if given a chance to pull it off. Given the nature of that goal, it would take one of those recent shatter points, touches of chaos to make it happen.

She could make use of said chaos and twist things more towards her goal. She was blocked from initiating some actions herself, but once they were in motion, she was merely reacting to them, and that presented opportunities that she might not have acquired otherwise. Nevertheless, the battle awaited, and she was reviewing her plans for the details since she had noted a few individuals who had actually shown up.

That meant that she would also have a chance to interfere with them, though interacting with one of them would have to be through her pawns, for approaching them directly would likely trigger an emergency evacuation of those individuals as important assets.

As for the other, they would come straight for her, confident in their ability to fight, die, and come back stronger against such a foe as her, and confident they could pull it off repeatedly without risking their mind and sanity.

Interestingly enough, she could foresee them eventually joining the others in being blurred, not quite to the same extent as they, but sufficient enough to add their own share of chaos into the situation. However, that was not an issue for her that day, yet her target lay elsewhere.

She could already see the first wave of defenders rising to the air to meet and greet her. Her vision distorted slightly as she found herself puzzled by some who in one path were land-bound and unable to fly and maneuver so easily, now raised to the sky, and she noted others that had grown in size, double their usual size. Brutes, who were now lobbing things at her so rudely.

Perhaps some of these changes would become annoyance eventually, but for now, she was not concerned. The added chaos would just make the foe arrogant. Make the foe bolder. Make the foe reckless, and thus vulnerable.

All she needed was one clear shot in a shatter point where the strike could be struck with sufficient force to have the needed effect, but low enough to not cross the point of how much power she was 'permitted' to deploy against these beings if she was to prolong the fight and increase the drive for conflict.

Director Piggot was silently fuming in her office while reviewing the latest files. Blackjack was proving a potential asset worth recruiting, but one of her wards was actively talking against them and potentially the one who had messed with an exposed terminal to cause the 'ghost' message to appear to Armsmaster, but yet the cameras watching him showed no attempt at messing with said terminals shortly before the events unfolded, nor during them. Setting it all up early in advance was not likely, his power did not grant him that sort of foresight as far as she knew.

Still, Miracle was an useful asset and one that was also very PR friendly, and there was no obvious malice about him, but at the same time he triggered some warnings in her mind as she watched the way some experienced agents as well had bent the rules slightly in order to aid him, and in exchange for little fixes to their gear. Yes, it did help relieve maintenance pressure a fair bit, but it was still concerning.

Even more so because the thinkers who had been asked to provide a reading of her had returned some confusing work. There was something odd about him, but given the event that served as his trigger event it was noted as a possible variant they had not encountered before.

Still, she was reluctant to let go of her, any more than she was willing to drop the matter of recruiting Blackjack either. Yet now Armsmaster was already in Miracle's corner and opposing any attempt to draw Blackjack along, while her more violent ward, Shadow Stalker, had apparently given a more positive view of Protectorate and PRT to him than Armsmaster. Something she had not expected to happen.

It had actually made her question Shadow Stalker's watcher, and notice they had not actually paid much attention to her activity, beyond keeping in touch with her school's staff. The watcher in question had only filled in reports that were fine on a glance, but a closer look saw a lot of their content was repetitive and didn't really say anything.

Director Piggot was torn on that matter. Part of her wanted to rewards Shadow Stalker for her recent efforts, both in establishing somewhat peaceful line with Blackjack to start with, and for managing to help quickly land a strike on Legion, who had already been kill ordered before she launched that particular bolt. On the other hand, she had also been sneaking out on her own and apparently she had not been watched nearly as closely as she should have been watched, given her status as probationary ward with a history of difficulties.

Still, she had a number of issues going on in her city, and the damn higher ups refused any requests for aid. There had been a flat out demand for her to hand over the vials that Shadow Stalker had captured recently, and a warning to not let Armsmaster study them. She couldn't make a ward examine potentially dangerous tinker-tech chemicals either, but the test laboratory had at least managed to get a few things out of those things.

The vials each contained a concentrated dose of chemicals that would be potentially undetectable once mixed into something, before activated during ingestion and actually spreading through the body, before settling in to hide. After a time, they'd suddenly become malicious and attack the body from the inside like shards of glass all over inside, causing massive internal bleeding and organ failures.

Insidious, cruel, and inhumane. The fact that Empire had such a dangerous substance in their grasp raised more than a few alarms. The vials were thankfully secure, and the chemical was harmless in itself, it didn't absorb through the skin on a mere splash. Having some enter a cut would be potentially nasty, but not nearly as bad as ingesting some of the liquid.

Still, the fact they had the substance at the same place as they had some rather pure drugs painted a somewhat grim picture. The thinkers had already began to theorize a poisoned goods plan against the merchants and potentially against their leadership in particular, but the fact remained those vials were just beyond the specialization of the Empire capes, and while the scientists had managed to figure things out with some testing, they had had to use tools and test instruments made by Armsmaster before.

Meaning that the liquid in those vials was quite advanced, and likely costly to create, and given the Empire's ties with Gesellschaft, that suggested they were the origin of said liquid. Which meant that Gesellschaft had actually got to a point they were entirely willing to experiment on chemical weapons against their foes, and from the looks of it, Brockton Bay had only narrowly avoided being turned into a test case.

Because it was unlikely the merchants would have used the 'goods' in their pure form, rather they'd cut and spread it out, sell it to unrelated people as well as use some of it for themselves. Which would have potentially caused a ton of health issues on their already battered city and caused mass death on a scale that would have potentially had a kill order on ALL involved Empire Capes.

To escalate things to that level meant this was quite possibly a declaration of war. Yet whether to release news about the barely averted disaster or not was on her mind. It would be a PR win and shatter the image of Empire as being on the side of the common white man against minorities that the Empire used to try and draw in impressionable, violent youths, but on the other hand it would also agitate the already volatile situation even further.

The superiors above her seemed to act somewhat suspicious about it as well, leading her to wonder what to expect from them as well. As if all the other issues weren't bad enough, there was an Endbringer battle, and there was now potentially a Thinker who actually had a chance to provide a small early-warning to Endbringer attacks, something that would be useful despite the project that Dragon and Armsmaster had been co-operating on, a system to help detect potential Endbringer attacks and predict attack sites in advance.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead before turning to her coffee that had already turned cold. All she could do was sit, and wait, and hope that those who had joined the fight would come back home alive.