Apprentice 2.7

Riding back towards the PRT HQ inside the PRT van, Thomas Wolf slowly began to stir as the tinker-tech drug that had momentarily flooded his veins began to fade. If it had not been meant for a strong brute he would have likely fought off its initial effects as well, but as it stood he had been momentarily knocked out, only to be forced awake a few minutes later when his body fought it, minute by minute, until it managed to more or less eradicate and expel the foul substance from his body.

'Armsmaster just made himself a new enemy. I don't really care for his reasons, this was unacceptable treatment.' He wanted to take the bastard's halberd, snap it into two, and then bend over the man and shove the blunt end up his rectum. He doubted he would really do it, but the vengeance fantasy did make him feel at least a little better. Breaking the bastard's weapon would probably cause him enough pain to satisfy his need for revenge if it came down to it.

He was laying on a gurney, wrists strapped down, as were his legs, another band around his chest as well. Annoying, and further evidence that they thought they needed to secure him down. The fact he was riding alongside Cricket and Hookwolf did nothing to improve his mood for that matter.

He was just grateful that gamer physiology reacted to any debilitating effects with alarm. His immune system was further boosted well above human limits thanks to his experience, and the anti-brute tinker drug was still useless once expelled by the body it was meant to limit and sedate. He felt somewhat groggy but even that was clearing up quickly enough.

'I have limited time before we reach wherever we are going. PRT HQ or Protectorate rig? Probably the PRT, I doubt they want to drag me to the rig itself. Not when I am set between these two bastards. Nobody else riding in the back to watch us, possibly due to lack of a room. Three gurneys do take a fair bit of space.' He shook his head annoyed at the circumstances while considering other important matters.

'If I was brought in sedated, it might mean that they would have me put in a cell for a time, and possibly alerting the Wards to the presence of prisoners. Including the new ward, Miracle. Which might mean they would see it as an opportunity to approach me with the intent to rid themselves of either competition or target.' He frowned quietly. The thought of being helpless and at the mercy of what would likely be a completely amoral bastard with no mercy in their hearts to begin with was an unpleasant, chilling reminder of just how badly Armsmaster's attempt to bring him in could screw him over.

He tried to move his hands, finding that the bindings were holding him relatively securely, by all appearances, but they were certainly no brute cuffs. He should be able to break free if he pushed himself, but that would create some noise. Frowning, he thought back at his spell list before a small smirk crossed his face. A small little cantrip he had picked in the past just because it could prove useful at times was possibly the answer.

'Acid Splash.' He whispered the words a fingertip pressed against the cuff's side, and a small splash of the sizzling liquid appeared immediately. The hit that close did cause minor harm to his wrist, but nothing that his body couldn't cover up on the spot. He could heal up afterwards.

Repeating the same on the other cuff with his one hand free, he pulled as far away from the point of impact as he could and found this time he didn't get that much acid droplets on himself. He melted the bindings over his chest and waist, before reaching down to undo the straps around his legs, melting them too. It was a touch petty, but even with a hand free, he was perfectly willing to ruin PRT equipment for the insult they had delivered upon him with this clumsy attempt.

He might have considered sticking around for an interview and debriefing earlier, but Armsmaster's behavior had made him annoyed. His Gamer's Mind prevented him from really acting out on said urges but it did not prevent wishing the man harm, and the bit of damage he did would just serve to further the image he was a grab bag with plenty of powers who they had purposefully alienated, after this.

Taking a moment to glance the back of the car, he re-enabled the mage armor and shield, realizing belatedly that the fact Armsmaster had landed that shot on him spoke of remarkable skill. The spells should have diverted the shot, but then again he had drained them a fair bit and his shield spell had not been aligned towards the man, but still, the fact the mage armor had not deflected the projectile made him wonder if tinker-tech devices assisting his aim could work counter to his magic to some level? A shot so direct it would not be easily deflected but piercing through the protective layer to hit straight on. Or maybe it was a mental thing, he had not thought Armsmaster to be hostile and the shot had come as a surprise?

Shaking his head, he glared at the lock at the back of the PRT van. They were on the move, but glancing at the doors he could tell they were somewhat reinforced. Yet they were meant to be opened from inside, and this was not a specialized prisoner transport. Still, just trying to open the door didn't work.

Sighing wearily, he gathered up a bit of power for a second level spell he had picked for utility purposes. He had not used it, since Shadow Stalker had been 'gracious' enough to open the way before, but now that PRT was playing games with him, he might as well. Gesturing at the roof, he muttered the word, and the burst of power erupted from his hand.

"Shatter. With that word, the roof blasted apart like hit by a tinker tech shotgun, no resistance from any of the possible armor plating along the frame. 'Flight' was a serious boost to his abilities to get away, and leaping up high he emerged only to be greeted by a pair of blasts hitting his shield and mage armor but falling off, rapidly expanding goo that failed to take hold on him due to the magical protection not really sticking to it. Containment gel shots like that meant they were reacting quickly though.

'Invisibility' was the third and last part of his exit strategy in this case. He made the appearance of bracing for rapid acceleration in mid-air, while the whispered word and a small hand gesture made him vanish from sight before the PRT forces. He actually did accelerate immediately after while carrying out what he felt were appropriate evasive maneuvers, just in case.

Leaving the hostile forces behind he was bristling with anger even as the Gamer's Mind was cooling his tempers. He wanted to attack them, but even if Armsmaster was a dick he wasn't going to involve others in that fight. The damaged equipment and show of ability would draw some attention, but right now he had other things on his mind.

Thomas Wolf shivered while letting the water run over him in the shower. He had already healed himself up, but the adrenaline rush had lasted longer than he expected and the crash had still hit him pretty rough. Not as bad as it might have, thanks to his Gamer physiology, but he still obeyed some rules of biology, even if after twisting their arm and making them cry uncle to get a more favorable deal out of it.

Right now, he was considering a number of options. Protectorate and PRT had a keen interest on him but his little dance switching personas would likely have them jumping at shadows and chasing non-existent leads. He was not sure of whether Shadow Stalker had left to chase Stormtiger, retrieve the chemical containers, or what, but her absence along with his capture certainly made him very reluctant to consider assisting Protectorate or PRT at all.

Still, he wanted to help get rid of the gangs and strike to weaken them to make it possible to begin with. They might erupt to gang warfare, but the situation had already been heading that way anyhow.

ABB might have stayed out of it but Merchants and Empire had been clashing repeatedly in a manner suggesting that an all out warfare might break out soon. If it did, reducing Empire forces would hopefully also reduce the damage they would do to the city.

Nevertheless, he was not sure if he should keep his now 'obviously more powerful than normal grab bag' identity as Blackjack or not. If he did, then he would have an unfriendly stance with Protectorate and PRT without some serious explanation on their side. The fact he might seem like a less-powerful copy of Eidolon given how he'd been pulling extra powers one after another might also make them assign more thinkers on the case, which would be annoying.

Heading out of the bathroom in a robe, he moved to the kitchen section and heated himself up a small meal, wolfing it down rather quickly. The healing spells did a fine job, but any remaining little aches seemed to melt away as soon as he ate something. The gamer's body was amazing in its ability to recover, and just eating a hearty meal could have meant leaving the healing for later. Though he had preferred to be at his best before heading back to his place, a change of clothes having waited him in a bag on a rooftop he had flown to earlier and again after that little escape, a bag he had dropped while invisible.

Flight and invisibility meant he could get around easily enough, and undetected for short periods of time, making him move about a lot easier than he used to. Jumping on rooftops had been more fun though, as it became a game alongside Shadow Stalker. For all the nasty stuff said about her in the story, he was willing to admit when it came to the hunt, she was effective.

He didn't think he'd ever like her as a person, but as a warrior fighting against the Empire 88, he could offer her his respect. More than he would give to Armsmaster, that backstabbing two-faced pompous dick. He really wished that the Armsmaster he'd meet wasn't as bad as that, but apparently he was not quite so lucky.

Finally making a decision after finishing his meal, he made a call to a familiar number.

"We need to talk."

Legion was smirking to himself. He had been striking at several places, and inspired a fair bit of fear and terror. After getting his hands on Alter Self and some quick summons he had spread further terror by making demonic beasts appear and attack, even if they vanished briefly after. His role as the Burning Legion was going splendid, people scared and running away like headless chickens when he began his games, but the Protectorate response times were getting better, and they seemed to have grown wise to scout around for him as soon as they put him down, wanting to strike him down as fast as they could.

Perhaps they thought he had some cooldown they needed to beat? Stupid fools didn't realize he has ascended above such petty things as cooldowns on abilities. Well, not entirely, it still took him a bit of time to return but it was a short delay only, and his mind and body were stronger and stronger each time it happened.

However the real fun was just starting. He had gathered a few scared, but easily convinced youths around him, and shown them the humblest of his magical tricks while talking a good talk about how the Legion was coming and this world was going to fall to them. He had made them an offer that he knew the desperate fools would take.

They would become Cultists to the Legion, and in exchange, he would teach the Cult Magi the basics of his magic. The power of Apprentice was that it could be taught. It could be replicated in others.

He made an elaborate show of granting that power though, and warning that if they tried to teach others, they would likely only kill themselves, because to 'share the shard of demonic magic would stretch it too thin, and just kill both.' A blatant lie and a bluff but he doubted they were willing to give it a test.

Still, they had no access to spells beyond what he'd be willing to teach, and he'd only teach them everything they'd know, not everything he'd know. Even just being able to throw first level spells and cantrips should amaze and draw in these fools with a desire for power, for being special, for being important in some way.

Soon, the Legion would strike not only with beasts and immortal messengers, but with rows of maddened cultists that would spread chaos and destruction all around.

Gritting his teeth together he chuckled quietly to himself, glancing back at the package in the back of the car. He had been gathering supplies for a while, and running five copies of himself alongside his true self. Only two were attacking directly, two were teaching a cult, while he and his 'youngest' copy had been making preparations.

While he was not in a rush to the end goal, he did plan to test the first one. If they were pathetic and weak, then killing them before others could pull it off was important to make sure his powers would remain his own. If he was strong and slippery enough to slip away, the fight would only serve to make him stronger in his true self anyway.

The Burning Legion would take over the American soil, one city at a time, and they'd make that pathetic gang of murderhoboes called Slaughterhouse Nine weep with bitter tears of envy. Heck, he might just see about converting Jack Slash, the man might make for a useful addition. Then again, the man was supposedly rather convincing, but his devotion was to the Legion and the end game, and he doubted Jack's mind twists could match that singular purpose.

Steven was focused on a new set of minions, his work having proceeded unhindered for several hours. His guardian was away, late at work, giving him free run of the house in their absence. Working quietly, his network was already spread across the city of Brockton Bay but it still had holes at some spots. Holes that had been made all the more apparent earlier that night.

'Blackjack' had been out fighting, and the fight had drawn attention of the police and PRT alike. His minions had reported in quickly, and he had directed others to watch over the area. He had watched as two empire capes were brought out along with Blackjack, and then watched and witnessed the escape.

After the cape had pulled off his disappearance act, Steven had stopped to consider the possibilities from all the information his network of minions could provide him. So far, it seemed that nobody was quite sure where the man had gone, and how exactly his abilities worked. There was also a rather volatile reaction when news about the breakout reached parties who had been working in late and received word too late.

Steven considered the possibilities. He had not been able to have a minion track Blackjack after he pulled the escape act, but the modifications he was making would allow his minions a chance to not be caught off guard again like that. It would take some time to tinker and make everything ready, but he was not in a hurry yet.

Even if Blackjack had been momentarily caught, some of the information from his minions lead him to believe it was because he had not expected an attack from Armsmaster, a move that Armsmaster was likely not able to repeat again. It did provide him with some more data on his target's capabilities at least.

Miracle was gritting his teeth together quietly while fixing the damage done to Cricket and Hookwolf. Both of them had been injured, and from the looks of it his foe had chosen to use electric attacks similar to a high powered taser. They were painful and able to knock someone out, but they had actually done very little damage, at least comparatively speaking. The damage looked worse than it really was, but still, it did showcase a particular vulnerability.

The enemy that he and the others were hunting was unwilling to kill. They acted like this was a comic book world and using guns or otherwise lethal attacks was unacceptable. That meant they limited themselves and would likely have some heroic tendencies that could be exploited in the right circumstances. It also meant that trying to convince others he was a bad person might be a touch more difficult to pull off.

Still, he had fixed a number of things before that had endeared Armsmaster to him given he helped the man focus on his own tinkering while Miracle could cover the maintenance needs. The man had actually offered a short word of praise to him the other day, something that had left Clockblocker staring at him open mouthed. He had half expected the boy to yell out 'bullshit' at him for a moment but Clockblocker had instead chosen to walk over and shake his hand, loudly proclaiming he had to be the new king of Brockton Bay, for he had removed the stick from Armsmaster's ass.

A comment that had lead to Clockblocker sitting at the console later on when Armsmaster heard about it from one of the others.

Still, it was not all sunshine and wonder. Missy, or Vista as she preferred to be called, had been initially thrilled to have another younger Ward around but then quickly growing jealous at how he got accepted and his ideas given consideration. Kid Win was often asking him to help fix things, Dean seemed somewhat wary, but it was Shadow Stalker that troubled him. She glared at him and sometimes sneered loud when others didn't notice, seeming to be eyeing him in a rather hostile manner.

He wasn't sure if it was just her disliking the fact he was helping everyone and being loved for doing so or what, but the Stalker bitch had began to make things difficult, and that meant that he might have to either find a way to make Stalker fall under his aura, or get rid of her.

The problem was that Shadow Stalker just plain didn't hang out with the other Wards, meaning she only received short touch of Miracle's aura, and the small doses kept fading before they could root in. Missy Byron, or Vista, was also not around nearly as often with the way her parents were seemingly arguing about leaving the city and taking her with them, but unable to really stand one another.

The fact she wanted to be with the Wards meant she would be around longer sometime soon, but for the moment she was around only long enough to receive a partial dose of Miracle's aura, and thus with her own doubts.

The fact that Dean was occasionally glancing at him weird made him wonder if the boy would be trouble later. He doubted it though, Dean was more focused on his girlfriend than worrying about him, and given the two of them broke things off and got back together once already in the time Miracle had worked for PRT just showed how quickly those things changed between those two.

Author's Note: I am considering a longer interlude chapter, or a possible PHO interlude for the next part. Either way, another small timeskip is ahead before the events of Apprentice 2.8. The Hunters are preparing and planning, the Main Character is considering the future options. Lastly, while Legion is considering cultists, having a 'dedicated' clone in their numbers to watch them closely is a necessity to prevent any apprentices from trying to go beyond what Legion is willing to teach them. Still, hopefully the ride has been entertaining so far and will remain that way. On the matter of some comments made earlier, Belial666 certainly had a right start in the idea, and Rope Trick might have been better one to pull off, but the character's spell selection at the time was different, given their earlier preparations.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]