Apprentice 2.13

The Battle for Canberra had began well with people gathered in large numbers, and lead by the entire Triumvirate, a gathering that regarded the situation very grim but at the same time feeling hopeful they would be able to make a difference, and wishing that their day would end up with a city saved rather than doomed to be locked down in a dome, turned into a containment zone and forbidden.

Back at Brockton Bay, the people were waiting news about how the fight turned out, as no direct news feed was permitted from Simurgh's attacks. Many were pessimistic about the chances the heroes would have against the Endbringer, but some were trying to hold onto hope, in particular those related to one of the heroes out there.

Blackjack had no direct relation to anyone there, but felt grim and guilty for not being present to take part in the fight. Waiting quietly felt like torture, as he wondered what the end result would be. The canon outcome was the total loss of Canberra, but he wondered if it was possible to change things with a nudge.

Simurgh would be met with more resistance, and the people would be alerted a bit earlier. Would that mean she would reconsider the time she took in the city, or would it be a wasted effort, a variable that did not alter the outcome beyond meaning more people would be hurt trying to prevent the disaster? He felt a touch of additional guilt at that particular thought.

Yet he could not shoulder the burdens of the world or blame himself for that and everything else, or it would drive him to depression. Sighing quietly, he moved to fill a glass of water before checking on the news.

"...in flames, costing the lives of at least 14 PRT agents and the heroes Rust and Guardian. The official statement is that this was an attack by Legion, utilizing the timing of Endbringer attack to spring an associate of his from PRT custody while most of the heroes from the local office were away at Canberra fighting for the people there."

Blackjack felt his breath catch in his throat as he listened to the news. An attack against the PRT during an Endbringer attack would probably rile up the people even more. To think that someone would be willing to violate the truce like this made him wonder if Legion really didn't give a damn about what the people thought of him.

Then again, would Endbringer truce extend to other locations, or would it only bind the attack site and those there? He wasn't entirely sure, but he was pretty sure that this would still rile the people up something fierce.

Legion was laying on the ground in Canberra, staring in shock at his own arms and legs, laying separated from his figure near him, his wounds cauterized and his head and torso left there on the ground, broken, but not dead, nor dying.

Simurgh had not given him a fight he had wanted. The bitch had not even glanced at him but had yanked a tinker-tech sword from the corpse of a tinker laying nearby, and had it fly at him like a damned jedi lightsaber, with similar results. First he had lost his both legs above the knee, then the spinning blade had come back slashing off his right arm at the shoulder, then the left, and the damned blade's heat had actually seared the wounds shut so he wasn't even in danger of bleeding out.

Simurgh had refused to give him the fight he had wanted. He would have to kill himself or be captured, for his attack against the bitch had revealed him to be who he was, and he was sure they were tempted to capture him if given the slightest chance to do so. At least Simurgh was still too close for that.

Miracle and Panacea were being evacuated, a few among the many, as the medical camp was being abandoned. Fires raged high as the people hurried to evacuate the injured and the healers alike, after a large tanker full of flammable liquids had been thrown at the camp and exploded in a fireball that had nearly seared through Miracle and Panacea as well. The fact Miracle was forced to use his forcefield to save himself exposed a part of his powers that he had not officially revealed. A part that drew more than a little suspicion from Panacea who noted the similarity to her own sister's power.

She had actually asked to be put in a different car as they hurried to evacuate, leaving Miracle brooding somewhat annoyed in another car but tending to those injured aboard the car's back, healing up those he could, and easing the harm done to those who would have taken far longer to fix in that crisis.

They weren't supposed to be in close enough to be exposed to a real risk, but clearly someone had made a dangerous, wrong estimate. Simurgh was likely involved, because if not, then some Brute had made a massive error in throwing something explosive like that and so far from the battle scene.

In Brockton Bay, a simple suggestion had seen a PRT agent leading a smiling Legion down the hallway under a disguise formed by alter self and a uniform taken off a PRT agent he had previously captured, stripped, and then dispose of.

The people around him were unaware of the fact that he would soon see the other captive member of his group go free once more. The Endbringer meant the people were away, that the guard was weak, that the place was ripe for raiding like this. He smirked coldly as he proceeded down towards the cell area.

One obvious and bloody attack at one place, and a more stealthy one at another, he would see both of his clones free and he would walk away triumphant. The people were fools to think they could contain him.

Nearing the cells, he paused in surprise as the guard before him staggered, and then collapsed. He was unsure what was going on before feeling somewhat woozy as well and cursed. Gas. Unheard, unseen, hardly even tasted, but the damn PRT was gassing him. Somehow he had triggered some security he didn't know.

His body was tougher though, so he rushed ahead, and finding a door locked before him began to enter the security code he had been given. Only to be greeted by a red 'lockdown' text on the security console's screen, making him punch it and break it.

Grasping onto the door he tried to force it open, but it was holding. Cursing loudly he turned to flee even as the alarms finally began to sound. Behind him, a previously open doorway saw a pressurized firedoor slam shut, blocking the path behind him.

He growled in anger and then threw a lightning bolt at the door, the sparks coursing through it even before he threw a pair of acid arrows into the mid section of the door, followed by a heavy slam by his shoulder a moment later.

Breaching the metal door, he grinned, and in a mere whisper, his body vanished. Turned into mere gas, he passed through the breach in the door and hurried off as fast as he could as bit of gas. He could maintain it a few minutes at a time, but the gaseous form was not going to go entirely unnoticed indoors in bright light. Translucent and insubstantial as he was, he was still somewhat misty, not perfectly clear, and while outdoors it would have been easily missed in the hallways indoors it might lead him to being caught.

Still, he slipped away down the hall beyond the doors meant to trap him, and silently cursed whoever had designed the place. He was willing to bet it was Armsmaster, the man was competent after all and they had held several Empire capes for several days earlier, so it was possible the man had devoted some attention into setting up a trap for a potential prison break attempt back then.

Yet he was not sure what had revealed him, and how that had happened. All he knew he had not managed to get close enough to dismiss that clone and had to leave it behind in captivity still.

Battery waited in the hallway quietly and checked her watch. Her orders were oddly specific and precise. She waited, watching the wristwatch intently near the doorway. Finally, the time was there and she threw the ball in her other hand through the doorway, having thumbed down the button two seconds before the moment she had to throw it.

The ball landed on the floor and bounced, even as she hastily slammed the control panel to close the door. Even as it rushed to close she felt the sudden rush of air into the hallway beyond through the doorway before it shut, and closed.

Inside the hallway Legion was surprised as the vacuum like pull of the odd little ball began to pull on him. It seemed like a tinker grenade of some sort, except instead of exploding it sucked the air around it in, and actually drained him somewhat as he fought to stay out of it. It took some effort to avoid the fate of being trapped in the damn ball, and even as it seemed to fill to capacity and stop the drain he felt somewhat shaken in his insubstantial form.

'Suddenly I feel a lot more sympathy for those weird little pocket monsters in that whatever it was kids show, what the hell was that? And how did they know to have one ready against me here?' Legion found himself caught in a room with doors shut at both ends, and low pressure. Irritating, and the alarms were still blaring.

Dropping his gaseous form he took a step back, and then charged right towards the door ahead.

He was strong enough to breach an armored door, one specifically built for containing cape prisoners. He would break that door down easy, it might take a moment but he would get through, and then he'd escape. All it was to him was a delay, and not even a very good one at that if he just broke a hole and went misty again, yet he was reluctant to do so if they had more of those vacuum balls or whatever they were.

Thomas Wolf, or Blackjack had he been in costume, was out again having a meal at a small restaurant while trying to come up with some plan to take down the hunters. It was apparent that Legion would cause a lot of harm if left alone, so fighting them was necessary. As for Miracle, the child was likely another hunter, meaning he would have to fight them eventually. That didn't make the idea any easier.

He let out a weary breath while resting back in his seat, glancing at the spaghetti on his plate, feeling like he was wasting a beautifully prepared meal by thinking about something he couldn't solve right now anyway, and while he could make plans he could have done it when he didn't have a good meal ahead of him being ignored.

Turning his attention back towards it, he was caught off guard when a man stepped in a fine suit pulled back the other chair at the table he was sitting at, and moved to take a seat.

"You are not an easy man to meet, Mr. Wolf. I have been hoping to get a chance to talk with you for a short while already." The man spoke in a calm tone of voice while looking at him curiously.

"Excuse me, you have me at disadvantage, who are you?" Thomas felt a tad of concern at this, and a bit of alarm that was soon replaced with a chill at the pit of his stomach.

"We share a first name, so we may prefer to stick with family names. You can call me Calvert."

Author's Note: With that, we finish off Apprentice, and next chapter will be the start of next section, Journeyman 3.1. Due to a few real life events, this chapter ended up different from what was originally planned, but I didn't want to go back on my word to have this chapter out during this weekend so here it is, such as it is.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]