Chapter 60: 5-10 Scattered

Scattered 5.10

2001, June 11: Washington, DC, United States

I worked slowly, making every cut with care. Shavings of wood curled around Isolde's blade even as I felt my mana spread through the mask like food coloring into a cup of water. Then, for the first time ever, I entered something close to a fugue. I didn't black out, but there was an insistence to every cut. Every motion felt as though someone was nudging me onward.

I could see the Mask taking shape. It was crude and rough, but the bristlecone pinewood felt like it was supposed to look this way, like an old sage unashamed of his ancient visage.

I carved and carved until I felt the mana reach a crescendo.

Then, I was elsewhere.

I stood, in pajamas and with Isolde in hand, in an unfamiliar place. I thought I was accustomed to the World Rune dragging me elsewhere, but this was nothing like the temple in my soul.

All around me, stonework pillars rose towards the sky, each depicting stories and pictures of a civilization long lost to the sands of time. Though I'd never been here before, I recognized the script easily enough: This was ancient Helian, meaning I was somewhere in the Shadow Isles.

"Oh shit…" I gasped. I turned to run. I didn't know where I could run to, but out of the ancient ruins seemed like a good start. Before I could, I came face to face with a gnarled old mask. "Gah!"

I landed on my ass. I hadn't expected to be discovered so soon, but at least it wasn't a wraith that found me.

Before me stood an old woman, a crone with a back so stooped that she must have stood at half her height. She wore layers upon layers of animal hide, though every one of them seemed to have come from a different beast even to my untrained eyes. There were shaggy pelts torn and rent with dagger-like talons and hides with thin, wispy fur that looked like clumps had fallen off from some unexplainable rot. By hunt or plague, all had died in a different manner.

Countless masks dotted her cloak, some I could recognize as those of rabbits, pigs, lions, and other animals. Others seemed so foreign that I couldn't even begin to guess. The mask she wore was completely nondescript, as though the maker could not decide on what it wanted to depict.

Or perhaps, because the maker wanted it to depict everything.

I was starting to get a clue.

Beneath the cloak and mask, she was a bony woman with gray but not clammy skin. In her left hand, she carried a staff of old but not yet rotting wood that had twisted on itself to form a perfect loop.

Her head tilted to the side inquisitively. Then, with a haunting voice that echoed endlessly throughout the surrounding mist, she spoke. "Who are you, little one?"

Something held me back. I didn't know why, but something made me hold my tongue. This was not an answer to give lightly.

I looked her over one more time. The countless masks that I'd thought were inert seemed to shuffle and shift of their own accord. Streams of mana wafted from her like smoke, only to be lost in the surrounding mist.

I looked at her and knew who she was.

And with that, I had my answer.

"I am He Who Inspires," I said with more bravado than true confidence. The World Rune had led me here and I chose to put my faith in it to lead me out.

She spoke again. "Why have you come, He Who Inspires?"

In her voice was more than a question. There was a dream, a whispered promise, a test. She was inevitable; I just happened to meet her sooner than most. I clung to that dream, that understanding. All I knew of the Mother distilled into my response.

"I come to become a light in the dark, to sing a new song, to write a new story, to weave a new tapestry. I come to remember, lest all the world forget."

She laughed. It was a haunting, ghostly laugh and the echoes sent shivers down my back that almost made me feel as though my very soul was trembling at the sound. "It is a worthy goal. Will you be the light that guides or the light that beckons? Take heed, He Who Inspires, and may you care for each light and spark…"

She reached out a hand. Then, before she could touch me, or perhaps she did touch me, I had no idea, the mist consumed the world and it all faded to black.

When I opened my eyes again, it was to stare at the unfinished Mask back in my room.

I stared intently at the crude eyeholes. Then, with trembling hands, I placed it back on my desk and pushed my chair out. My head hung back in exhaustion. The World Rune was infinite. I was not. Never had I felt the truth in those words quite so clearly. Even as the mana in my soul waited to be called, there was a soul-deep fatigue weighing on me, as though the link between my soul and body had been strained to the utmost.

"This… This won't be an easy project," I whispered, half in awe, half in fear.

X

2001, June 13: Unnamed, Ivory Coast

"So, what's this about the Terminus Project?" Alexandria asked. She, Doctor Mother, Contessa, and I were seated around a small table in another earth. I didn't know what excuse she gave as chief director, but I told Metalmaru that I had to go conduct maintenance on the potion production facilities. If asked, Hero knew it to mean Cauldron business.

"We need to talk about how we do things. I went over some of the memories I had and realized that you really drop the ball in Brockton Bay."

"We have no plans in Brockton Bay at this time. I take it we will?"

That caught me off guard. "Wait, you don't?"

"No. Since the arrest of Marquis by the rebranded New Wave, the city has reached a sort of equilibrium between heroes and villains," Alexandria said, practically reciting some report she'd read verbatim. "I was considering it as a prime candidate for experimentation. I take it that will be a mistake?"

"If by experiment you mean use the city as an isolated petri dish to cultivate a high concentration of parahumans and then proceed to point a newly powered Calvert at the city with the ultimate goal of seeing how cape feudalism would work out in society… Yes. Yes, that is a monumentally bad idea."

"How so?" Doctor Mother asked. She flipped through a series of reports and found the overview of the city. "Because the current situation favors neither heroes nor villains, it seems like a good, neutral ground for such an experiment."

I pointed at Alexandria. "She dies. And by dies I mean she drowns. On land. It was honestly kind of embarrassing."

"Are you saying that an experiment in Brockton Bay is directly responsible for my death?'

"Yup. But really, Brockton Bay is just symptomatic of a bigger problem. Your Terminus Project is all wrong."

"Explain."

"You've set yourself the goal of cultivating good parahuman leadership, both heroes and villains, based on the projections by the Number Man that eventually, everyone will have powers, yes?"

"It will be generations before that happens," Doctor Mother said. "However, we expect the results of the Terminus Project to be useful long before then, so long as significant portions of the population become parahumans."

I nodded. I agreed with her… on paper. In theory, cultivating parahuman leadership in preparation for a changing society was logical. Hell, it was unusually forward-thinking for this organization, which was probably why they fucked it up so hard in canon.

"I agree. There is no scenario in which having strong parahuman leadership is ultimately a bad thing. In fact, if you want to be able to field an army against Scion, you're eventually going to need competent lieutenants. Peter Pan is a good start, but you're doing a lot of things that are counterproductive.

"You all read my brief on Shards, yes?" I got a round of nods. It was one of the first things Contessa asked me to do. "Good, so you know about a Shard's conflict drive. Vials don't have it, but natural triggers do. So, if your goal is to create a society lead by parahumans, why does the NEPEA-5 exist?"

"It began as a way to force people into the Protectorate or gangs. We wanted to leave combat as the primary path available."

"You believe that given the conflict drive associated with natural triggers, it was unnecessary. Most capes would have chosen violence in one form or another anyway," Alexandria said. "This might be true, but the NEPEA-5 also allowed us to gain control of a large number of thinkers, forming organizations such as Watchdog. Without it, the Madhouse you work at in your normal capacity would likely look different as well."

"That's true, but do you need it anymore? Think about this. It may have made sense in a world where the Protectorate was not yet fully established, but now, being a hero is the sexiest job imaginable. Heroes are popular. Heroes are idolized. Heroes are glamorous in a way that used to be reserved only for movie stars.

"It's worse than redundant though. The Terminus Project exists to cultivate strong parahuman leadership, but the NEPEA-5 leaves economic means off the table. Can a nation exist without an economy? Can a gang? Or any other organization? Of course not. You need some sort of monetary inflow and outflow, but the NEPEA-5 makes legal means impossible. You're effectively crippling legitimate parahuman leadership before they have the chance to get off the ground. While this forces them to rely solely on their strength of arms, in the end, that alone isn't a good foundation for the kind of parahuman force you'd need to field against Scion."

"You want us to repeal it completely? That will be difficult. It is a large part of parahuman law, one embedded in the cultural zeitgeist."

"I'd argue that you've already begun," I pointed out. "You started with me by setting precedents via the courts concerning my potions. I'm not saying this needs to happen right away, but I do think it needs to happen eventually, and not just the NEPEA-5. I'm using that as an example, but it's true of laws in general. If you want strong parahuman leadership, you need systemic forces in place that favor such. The Terminus Project should be about a healthy transition, not some battle royale to see which warlord lucks out. Like I said in my brief, only a handful of capes are truly useful against Scion so cultivating a horde of villains and gangbangers won't do much. It'd be much more efficient to create a lasting infrastructure that can support those few parahumans. You don't need an army of fodder; you need a military industrial complex."

"We'll take it under advisement. But what was it that brought up Brockton Bay?"

"Calvert."

She hummed. "Captain Thomas Calvert, an elite trooper affiliated with the New York PRT. He heard rumors of Balminder."

That caught me off guard. I remembered Balminder. He was a middle-aged Indian man who sold Cauldron vials in canon, one who broke from Cauldron around the same time as Shamrock. He'd be called "Dealer" when he set off on his own. I didn't know much beyond that though. "Wait, Calvert tracked Cauldron?"

"Of course not. He strongly believes an organization capable of granting powers exists. Beyond that, he knows little. We occasionally leave trails for competent people to find, a test if you will."

"Fine, but I'm strongly advising against him getting a vial," I said, hands clenched.

"You dislike him."

"He wants to kill Calvert," Contessa chimed in. "It is only his own morality that keeps him from carrying out the act."

I let out an explosive sigh. "She's not wrong. I know that none of the things I saw happened yet, but he's… I don't want him to have powers."

"What power does he have?"

"Precognitive thinker. He has the ability to split timelines, one in which he undertakes a certain action and another in which he abstains. He then gets to dismiss one timeline, choosing the one that favors him. Or, he thinks he does. What he's really doing is having a Shard-induced vision and getting possessed by his own Shard to act as he otherwise would with his preferred choice. So really, his power is more like a simulation ability."

"If we were to use that vial on one of our own, would he be able to predict Scion?"

"No. Not a chance. Not the endbringers either. Calvert's Shard communicates with other Shards, which is why he could do things like torture someone for information in one timeline and get said intel he shouldn't have known about to use in the other, but it's under the same restrictions as any other Shard. If he could do otherwise, there was no way in hell you would have let him have free reign in the future I saw."

"Useful, but that's not enough for us to want it."

"I don't care what you do with it, just don't give it to someone willing to kidnap a twelve year old girl," I grunted.

"This is about the Red Sands Incident."

"You don't say."

"You are emotionally volatile, particularly where kidnapping and master effects are concerned," Alexandria ignored my snark and continued. "Will he acquire a master?"

"No, just drug the girl up to her gills and make her beg for 'candy.'" I saw the corners of her eyes tighten. I was glad. It meant she wasn't completely unsympathetic.

"He is calm, disciplined, and intelligent," Doctor Mother noted. "His experience and position of command within the PRT indicates that he will likely be a force for order in whichever city we put him."

"He's also ambitious and will never stop trying to take over whatever city he's in. In my vision, he acted like a stereotypical Bond villain, a mastermind type who tried to take over Brockton Bay as both Coil the supervillain and as Director Calvert of the local PRT."

"You say that like that's a bad thing. His psych profile does indicate dissatisfaction with his current lot, but a person with military training and discipline who is capable of managing two different personas, both in high positions, is precisely the kind of man we want to sell a vial to."

I wasn't getting anywhere. The trouble was, the shitty doctor was right. From her perspective, Calvert was close to perfect. "I really don't want him to get a vial."

"What happened to not judging a man for crimes he has yet to commit?"

"I won't kill him," I glared. "That's all the courtesy I'm willing to give him. Just because he hasn't committed a crime doesn't mean I should give him the means to do so in the future. I won't punish him, but I won't enable him either."

"Hyunmu, it is his kidnapping of minors that bothers you," Alexandria noted.

"And?"

"What if we throw in a caveat?"

"What? 'If you kidnap or pressgang a minor, one of our executives will come kill you.' Like that?"

"Would that be acceptable? In the grand scheme of things, Calvert represents a minor investment, but one that could help further our interests in a city. From what you have said, he will likely create an environment of conflict, playing multiple factions against each other while he furthers his interests from the shadows. All the while, he will be a stabilizing influence that ensures one faction does not lose overmuch. All of this will incite further triggers. We could impose lines in the sand to restrict his criminal activities if that is more bearable to you."

"What he's really doing then is building a seal over a soda can. Inciting a large number of triggers over time will destabilize a city and holding it back is just going to build up pressure."

"Isn't that what we're doing across the world?" Doctor Mother asked pointedly. "As Number Man's calculations make clear, trigger rates are rising. It's why the Terminus Project is so valuable. I am willing to include a 'no kidnapping' clause but I do believe Calvert will be a useful pawn."

I thought about it. It was an olive branch, I knew. These people I was sitting with had done much worse. If anything, a single kidnapping was nowhere near as bad as the likes of the literal Nazis that roamed the world. But even with the Ymelo's cooling influence, I just couldn't let it go. It seemed I had my own neuroses even without a traditional Shard and this would be one of them.

I sighed explosively and turned to Contessa. "Fine. If he oversteps his bounds, I will kill him."

"I'll allow it," she promised.

"But I want you to do me a favor, Alexandria, Doctor Mother."

"Oh?"

"Rethink the interaction between the Terminus Project and the Nemesis Program. Our Case-53s aren't just disposable minions anymore. They're Pan's crew. It's one thing if they're volunteering for a life in Earth Bet, but it's something else to just brainwash one with a trigger phrase to auto-lose to an up-and-coming hero. A mental trigger like that isn't likely to be helpful in the long run."

Alexandria hummed thoughtfully. Not for the first time, I wondered how much of her behavior was an affected action as opposed to something she did subconsciously. "I would be amenable to examining the projects and having Number Man rerun the calculations in light of your advice. Perhaps some sort of immigration policy can be maintained. A Case-53 who wishes to start anew on Earth-Bet is to be provided with monetary resources, identification, and other intangible support in exchange for three scripted losses against new buyers, or something to that effect."

"Really? Just like that?"

She scoffed. "We are not unreasonable, Hyunmu. We do realize that the information you've provided us changes our dynamic. In the end, retaining the NEPEA-5 and Nemesis Program as they stand would be counterproductive to the Terminus Project and our ultimate aim of raising a cadre of capes who can combat Scion."

"I know, I just… I expected you to need more convincing."

"I do not know how I would have behaved a decade without your involvement, but I will remind you that I am not that person. None of us are."

"Yeah, sorry," I apologized. It felt weird, apologizing to Alexandria for thinking she'd be too stubborn. I wanted to ask Custodian if there was something in the air.

The meeting broke soon after. I hadn't gotten everything I wanted: Coil would still be a thing and Brockton Bay would still be a powder keg, but hopefully, new systemic changes would make the world at large a brighter place. And who knew? Perhaps Coil would overstep his bounds.

No, I was sure of it. He was not the kind of man who stuck inside his limits. And when he stuck his neck out…

Isolde would be waiting to snip it off.