Chapter 98: Competency

If Cole were watching, he would punch the air, whooping with joy. Why? Reese, with her gestalt mind and attentiveness, was a natural. Give her a lantern ring, though, with what she was doing and quite capable of doing, maybe a ring wouldn't be necessary. 

The Russians had gone with firearms. After spending all their ammunition, he ordered the few men he had left to attack. 

Reese face shattered from the butt of the rifle that had been used as a blunt instrument.

'Organics are irrational, as the data stated. Ammunition hadn't worked, so why would the metal slug dispenser do any better?'

The gangster had delivered a blow that was well-practiced as he stumbled after her face cracked under an apparent killing blow

Reese's hand shot forward. She had made a mistake; she had forgotten to make a fist. 

Hard light pierced through the man's larynx like a knife through butter. 

He made a wet suction noise, and blood pooled in his lungs before his eyes rolled in the back of his head and dropped heedlessly before Reese. 

Silence. Hammerhead's face contorted into numerous emotions, his teeth grinding in anger. 

Reese cocked her head to the side in a bewildering fashion that made the mobsters take an additional shuttering step back. 

"I go by Reese. I aim to ascertain a potential partnership with the defunct Hammerhead Crime Family. Should we desist from violence and better talk to understand each side's needs in this before-mentioned endeavor?"

The gangsters winced, each eyeing their boss's countenance. The last person who said that he had been ripped apart and his minor crime family killed by the previous man. 

"Partnership," scoffed Hammerhead. "Whose ya boss broad?" 

"Red Hood should be an efficient moniker to determine the severity of the situation. Do you wish to communicate better to come to terms?"

Everyone scrutinized the person before them. This was one of the mutants that they had been hearing about. 

"Red Hood?" Barked Hammerhead, his frown turning around as he smiled savagely.

"You got balls, toots. Do you think I'll work to win some tot? No. How about to bash your head in, and then I take your corpse to Red Hood and explain to him to stay out of real man business."

"Irrational," Reese responded. She continued. 

She said. "Hammerhead illegally experimented on by disgraced surgeon Jonas Harrow, who, motivated by both humanitarian and experimental interests, replaced your skull and broken bones with a strong steel alloy, leaving your head broad and flattened; my scans have determined a high percentage of metal known as Adamantium, said metal is toxic when exposed to flesh and blood, which is why you lost your memory and created this persona."

'His treatment was the earliest known instance of the criminal empowerment for which Harrow later became infamous. 

Her master had tagged Harlow as a strategic target to acquire or kill if given the opportunity.' 

Hammerhead had heard enough and charged her. 

Lethality aside, Reese was naturally wielding hard-light technology like a seasoned Green Lantern. 

'Save data for the master to peruse to further his training if he ever needs to understand the method.' 

Reese's fist, forearm to her collarbone, at least what an organic would call it, shattered. 

Hammerhead reinforced frame have given him almost superhuman strength. He was below Cage in strength but still capable of fighting Spiderman, which the two did on occasion, like in the comics. 

She did what she was doing for the last three minutes. She recalibrated, redoubled the light potency being refracted, and even increased the processor capacity of the T-sphere, and adding a patch note on the update file for Cole to peruse, which is another startling feat that will soon excite Cole. 

T-Spheres were an insane creation of Mr. Terrific, so advanced and above the curve of most that even Bruce Wayne described them as wonders of humanity. 

'Tangibility percentage increased to ten percent. Retrofitting T-sphere to accommodate needs, updating masters files as proceeding.' The First Replicator thought as she fought. 

"You think I'm afraid of mutey?" Barked the mobster. Hammerhead lunged. The ogre of a man moved like a lion and packed at punch like a half-a-ton bull. 

An eye movement alone hadn't shown her that another assailant had lunged at her at all; she, at least, her natural body, was still glued to the wall; her overview was the entire warehouse. The skinny man fell in a bonelessly. This time, she had enough knowledge to control her attacks. 

Reese re calibrated her systems, being part of the gestalt consciousness, and further connected to the scientist's finding countless upgrades and hypothetical theories on the hardlight, her chances of a success field stress test skyrocketed. 

'The master had created hardlight after he had access to the lantern's rings,' she flowed through the files, wanting to learn more but met with a roadblock; she could push, but she retreated, going in another direction.

'The lantern files are locked under top directive only.'

Hammerhead tactics had been quite obvious and used to be the most durable in the room; the enhanced mobster's only recourse was to charge and swing devastating blows. 

"Time has eclipsed allocated mission parameters. Restraining protocols enabled."

Hammerhead's eyes bulged, but it was too late; the moment the girl broke into specks of light and announced her plan, he knew he was screwed. 

The large, powerful machinery dropped from the ceiling in a silent squat. 

Hammerhead did what he had been doing the past week: turning and running, but he wasn't dealing with The Hand this time. Cable shot out of the machine and trapped him; like a spider, the machine pulled his struggling form back toward it.

The last words he heard before his vision became black nearly made the hardened amnesiac criminal wet his pants. 

"Subject captured, returning to ATC Towers, report." 

'This was a learning experience,' thought Cole as Sweat trickled from his concerned appearance.

'Xavier hadn't fared well when he forced the men into a nightmare. It's a pity he was still able to manipulate nightmares. Maybe I need another fragment or two.' He thought, removing his hand from the demoness. 

"That at least tells me you're a demon. No soul. No dream." The demoness hissed and

shouted the usual threats. 

He looked past her, "Earn your keep?" He shouted, as Tyanon was loud. 

She stopped and craned her neck, trying to see what she could not; her familiar had been defeated, though he wasn't dead. To re-summon him without opening her realm was a fool's gambit; her weaknesses would make her easy prey. 

Just who he was conversing with before she realized what she was doing. 

'Even the soulless knows fear. I wonder what you're afraid of, though, Tyanon.' Uttered her adversary in her mind. Her pupilless eyes bulging at the rising of fear. 

"It's quite a trick. Learn that the har-." Cole's eyes became dulled for a split second before he returned as if he got the grandest of news. 

He continued, his mood blossoming by the second he had just completed the mission. Binding her worked; maybe it was like capture and hold the flag kinda of trigger, he shrugged. 

"Fear lord, you cannot be here,' she raged. 

"Submit, and all this goes away," replied Cole, knowing she wouldn't, but he had other avenues to explore. 

Tyanon would make him with The Hand an extra-dimensional entity more accessible. He was aware of The Beast, or The Son of The Jackal, as the denizens of hell knew him primarily by. What he didn't know was what type of demon the Beast was. Anything equivalent to Dormammu would be an extreme nope with his power, which might be the case for a long time. 

He tapped his ear and gave out quick commands. He turned and looked around, wincing at the devastation of the grounds.

He made the necessary purchase, making it the fourth set he had purchased. 

He turned back, having exposed his back to her as a round of psychological warfare. He wasn't even sure it could work; he at least knew she had fears determined by his ease of manipulation. 

"I got a moment. So I'd like to try some things. And before you threatened me again,' he tapped the amulet; it glowed, and the demon's mouth opened in shocked wonder, and her eyes bulged again. 

He noted that quirk, which he deduced that she hadn't always been blind. 

'Possible exploit?' He would see if sight could return to a demoness or if her situation was more than physical. 

The fire didn't quite work as he expected, her being a demon. I should have caught that one. Cold, on the other hand, was the surprise; it barely made her cringe.

"I'm a Chaos-Demoness; there is no submission even by the likes of your kind," she sniffed the air. "Odd. You smell of mortality but wield the dreams."

"What sorcery-." 

His hand clamped against the demoness mouth. Her pupils eyes wide with the enormity of her situation. 

Tyanon hadn't budged, but she allowed him the required minutes of practice. She wanted to see what the amulet could do to her momentarily, but the explosion of light from the transformation rings canceled that route. He turned around and watched the Circular rings about half the size of the Stargate, which function on the same principles, continue to land. 

The tumultuous winter storm brewing thankfully hid the bright light; Alfred still hadn't determined the cause; he hoped it wasn't another event like the proto-goblins. 

ATC personnel rushed forward, carrying an array of specialty equipment. As a show fan, watching the rings activate gave him butterflies. 

The rings transmit all matter within their circular formation to another pair of rings at a different location, utilizing a conduit of bright energy. If a person or object is on the receiving end, the rings can exchange the two simultaneously.

"Jeremy York?" Someone with a deep baritone called my name from behind. Cole turned to see someone he partially recognized. 

It's interesting how my world actors carried over in this one. Bradley was a statuesque man who barely showed his mature age. 

By his estimation, the much older man's hand was already extended; Cole smiled and extended his, having to shift his manta helmet to the opposite side.

"Field Commander," Was the name he offered with the meaty hand. 

Cole nodded. 

He dipped inside the ATC tab and noted the man's name; he was a signatory under his contract; the contract stipulated secrecy and the usual package of medical support. 

He gave Isiah Bradly a once-over and understood his reinvigorated confidence, but he did not know why he signed on. The man was, for lack of a better word, done wrong by his country; categorically, he was the first Captain America, yet he lacked the image of America and was shoehorned by the government. 

Isiah Bradley's situation made Cole think of Adam Brasher or Blue Marvel. Knowing that Powerhouse was just nearby and being psychologically manipulated by his secret agent's wife was disgusting. 

He fell in love with his handler and lived a normal, if not sedate, life. With all his power, why wasn't he used? The battle of New York would have been relatively easier. 

Firm grip, Cole noted, SSS(Super-Soldier-Serum) returning the firm handshake. Cole analyzed the man further, mind going over every tiny detail.

"What branch? Army, perhaps," he queried, his smile spreading. The one thing he lacked was competent agents; Bradley had the experience, grit and the strength that he needed. 

"If you weren't a young kid, I'd swear you served too," the older man joked. "Great guest. I was infantry before the experiments," his mood soured. "I'm actually the last of the batch that still lives." He stepped closer, towering over the nearly six-foot athletic build Cole now carried.

"I'm Isiah Bradley. First Super Soldier uncle Same made." Cole didn't refute him but he knew of others before him, but that was neither here nor there. He continued. "The doctor ran me through the processes and motions; he got me back in working shape."

Having pulled the Super Soldier file up in his HUD Cole had a better understanding of the man before him. The doctors had used the Gate technology he had handed out and healed him

"Well met, Isiah Bradley. What made you join up? To be perfectly honest. I'm aware of your beliefs over the years." Cole had read his psych profile in a manner of seconds.

"Harlem incident on the bus, Red Hood, a few months back, that was you, right?"

Cole nodded. It wasn't hard to determine he was Red Hood after the NDAs were signed. 

"The lady and daughter you helped was an old army buddy's daughter; he didn't return from the war. I promised to look after her; I've been the only male role model she and my granddaughter have. She's still waiting on that call, you know."

Cole had an understanding moment; if this were a comic, a lightbulb would have formed overhead. 

"I forgot. Did-." Isiah made a mouth-zipping motion. "I know how to keep my mouth shut. I signed up because I respect what you're doing. It's past time I helped not my country by my neighborhood." 

At least he didn't tell. He was still unsure what the system or his power would do to a breach. So far, everything was kosher on that end; most have admitted that a sense of apprehension followed the thought of a contractual breach of trust. 

He extended his hand this time. Bradley's deep baritone laugh had a disarming mechanic. 

"Welcome aboard; I'd like to add you to my command structure. When time permits, come see me if you're willing."

"I'll think about it." They spoke momentarily; Isaiah knew Steve Roger was being thawed and in a secret base regaining his motor functions. 

He scanned around; the bodies now with souls were being loaded up on hovering stretchers. 

He had come here not long ago, survived until now, and even managed to accomplish this. 

"Competency." He muttered, watching the various technicians work. It wouldn't be long before his misguided clan came after him. ATC was about to make a smash, and once the subsidiaries under its umbrella became known, wolves would be at his door. 

The rain started to fall, and he turned and drifted away, the heavy rainfall obscuring his figure as the technicians sent glances. 

Cole brought the mission alert up and whistled at his rewards. The system handed out more astounding rewards, but he also knew each came with inherent risk. 

Original Kaecilius wouldn't stand a chance against Tyanon, at least without the prep; Strange had banished her familiar, which weakened her somehow. Here, she was cut off from her realm, which weakened her to the level of Ka'l. 

He pushed his turbulent thoughts out of his mind and inspected his rewards. Nautilus Vl was a massive submarine; even with today's assortment of subs, this behemoth of the sea was Captain Nemo, League of Extraordinary Gentleman comic home, and command center; it had strikingly advanced technology, which included stealth and powerful armaments.

Anne would have loved to take this out of the ride. He shook his head, silently praying the girl was alright but also wondering why she didn't tell him she would be leaving and where. 

The money would make up for his expenditure at least. He raised his hand, and the demonic flute appeared in his grasp. Information flooded his mind, and he came to a stop. 

"No fucking way, man, I can summon demons!" He blinked, flipping through the information like a new release of his favorite story; instead of his eyes, his mind greedily absorbed it all, and he opened the shop and whistled at the more familiar items of the series being available. 

"It seems these demons aren't related to this universe, but the systems on interpretation?"

He guessed that part was vague, but the demons he commanded were beholden not to him, being demons and all but the holder of the flute. Quite weirdly, though, he could always unsummoned it if the flute fell in someone's hands. 

Not only did he get the flute, but he also had access to all of the Jutsu that derived from it. Tayuya's other Justus was in the shop, too, for a meager price. His mental push accepted the sale, and he smiled as he leaped into the air, smartly activating the camouflage. 

System-Generated Mission: The Weight of Souls: The Host has learned much since his impromptu arrival, but some things still elude you. You have sent a minion to commune with a Chaos Entity and have paid the cost of losing a soul, one with great potential. Rescue Lance York. He's your cousin, a bastard, but still. Tyanon, a pseudo Class 3 chaos-borne Demoness, has taken from you. Reclaim the souls by defeating, Capturing, Banishing, or Subordinating Tyanon.

Rewards(s) Nautilus Vl. Tayuya-Deminic Flute. $345,000.