7 Curbstompfest of the Bank
"DYNAMIC ENTRY!" I roared as I flying side kicked my way through the wall of the Brockton Bay Central Bank.
No building of mere brick and plaster could ever hope to bar my entry, my loss of momentum negligible as I continued on my collision course with Grue, the the large and in charge leader of the teenage villain group known as the Undersiders.
"Wwwwwhhhhhaaa-" he slurred in slow motion before three hundred and sixty pounds of cyborg covered in three hundred thirty pounds of power suit kicked him in the chest.
The power of my suit's repulsor system is the only thing that kept my foot from impaling his chest, and even with that bleed off the young man slammed into the wall hard enough to warrant a wrist dart of medical nanites to keep things from escalating into lethal territory. Not that I'm against killing teenagers, far from it, but my own teen team of superheroes had been waiting nervously outside the bank before I emerged on the scene. Such sheltered little flowers, I'm afraid they might never recover should I expose them to proper carnage from such an unexpected source.
"Get on the ground and put your hands on your heads!" I commanded the remaining supervillians.
"What the hell, we have hostages!" screamed a blonde girl in a purple supersuit.
"Irrelevant!" I shouted as a giant dog monster came at me and ate plasma halberd, a single charged blaster shot causing its rhino sized body to explode in a shower of cooked gore.
"Brutus!" screamed the big butch female of the group, PRT designated Hellhound but surveillance indicates a self designation: Bitch.
My kind of woman.
"Nothing is happening!" shouted Regent, a Master type cape dressed in a Venetian masquerade.
The thing about the very rightfully feared Master powers of this world is that they need specific infrastructure to manipulate, like the human brain. For someone lacking these meat structures to manipulate, my cyborg body is immune to the vast majority of Master powers. Only someone with a technopathic vector has a chance of wresting control of the Arms-bod from me, but we have the Butcher for those instances. I'm actually looking forward to that power up, feeling more and more confident to take my bro Shardmaster with me for the transition with each new day.
"Why are you here?!" Bug-girl screamed breaking that emotional chill I so admired her for as the other two dogs came at me from both sides and attempted to rip me limb from limb, .
"What's the matter? Can't get a good taste?" I mocked as the massive bone spur riddled beasts failed to gain purchase on me with their jaws and claws.
In a flash of light a pair of shoulder mounted energy cannons appeared on my armor and took aim at the two humongous heads.
"NO!" Bitch screamed to stop me, but I shot the dogs anyway with two ripping hot blaster bolts.
Might get a good John Wick out of this.
The torn and charred husks of her minions shot through the air and without a pair of micromachine spikes lancing up from the floor they would have wreeked bloody havoc on the hostages in the bank lobby. Seeing a potential mental breakdown I shot a med-dart at the girl and she went down like a sack of hammers.
"You were supposed to wait!" Bug-girl shrieked, clutching her head in her hands.
"Why?" I asked as I med-darted Regent.
"Their leader!" she screamed at me, the bugs in the room going a bit berserk but not hurting anyone, "We were supposed to find out about their leader and take him down!"
"Oh, that guy." I chuckled, "He won't be bothering anyone anymore."
"Oh my God! He killed Coil!" Tattletale tattled, and though she didn't do an impersonation, I heard Cartman perfectly.
"Pics or it didn't happen." I smirked and shot a med-dart in her mouth when it next opened.
I took a moment to look around at all the KO'ed teenagers and saw that my work was good.
"Nice undercover work, partner." I shot the finger guns at Bug-girl then sent out a message to my teen team, "Armsmaster to the Wards, Undersiders down. I am in the lobby currently with my undercover agent, Bug-girl. Do not engage the lanky girl in the super edgy costume. Also looks like Panacea is in here among the hostages."
Glory Girl, the local top flying brick, made it through the bank entrance from the roof faster than the Wards made it from their positions near front of the doors. The golden haired tiara wearing princess of questionably legal asskickings and disregard for local architecture looked around the lobby frantically while my sensors recorded her absolutely blasting her emotion controlling worship-me/fear-me aura at everyone, something that didn't stop once she found her adopted sister.
My memories from Colin clued me into the slightly dumpy brunette so heavily freckled she almost could be mistaken for someone with vitiligo being a headcase, and seeing her in the flesh while equipped with a wildly invasive sensor suite confirmed her diagnosis of just under the skin batshit crazy in need of one bad day to go absolutely bonkers. The girl's hormone markers and brain chemistry told a tail of chronic stress and fatigue with a heavy dash of I want to lesbian fuck my adopted sister and if anyone finds out I'll release a bioplague to wipe out everyone so that no one can know the truth.
Neat.
"Oh man! Didn't you bust in here like ten seconds ago!" my excitable young white armor paneled sidekick Clockblocker shouted as he flew into the lobby, "How are they already down?"
"Science." I answered, always willing to help out my underlings, "Sweet magical science."
"Are they dead!" he shouted as he processed the site of my awesomeness.
"Nah, micromachine induced comas. They're all totally fine. Except their leader, Grue. I couldn't throw a sweet flying side kick like that and not kick somebody in the chest." I explained to the teen the importance of follow through.
Vital adult capability.
"Not them, the dogs?!" he yelled and I examined the dogs briefly.
"Scanners read: super dead." I announced the result.
"Hope these dogs have good dental records." stated another of my sidekicks, the red armor suited Aegis, who walked in rather than fly, "They're looking extra crispy."
Usually it's Aegis who does the flying in this group, not Clockblocker… suspicious.
"Sad about the dogs, but look at that new armor! Now that I can see it up close I'm losing it man." spoke Kid Win, my Tinker sidekick who wore a red and gold custom power armor with a glowing red visor over his eyes.
I showed off a bit by teleporting the cannons back to my Dragon maintained armory.
"Dude! You got the tele-gear tech working to that level!" he screamed in excitement and shook Vista - the only girl on the team on location and youngest member - by the shoulders, the boy being the origin of that tech within the Protectorate ENE, "And I can tell this new armor has a bunch of connection sites for additional equipment like that… It's giving me so many ideas!"
"Run with those ideas, Kid." I pointed to the boy, "All sorts of things will let you down in life. You might one day wake up as a giant space lizard man a hundred and sixty years into the future, and everything and everyone you care about are gone. And you might use that giant space lizard man body to save the galaxy from massive robot cuttlefish, and you might think that you'll get your happily ever after, but no, you might discover your penis can fuck through the walls of the universe, and now you've lost it all again, except this time your penis brought your kick ass girlfriend along for the ride. And you might through the sweet magical science of your penis gain cannibal powers that cause you to eat the whomever you may have landed near upon arrival to this new universe, gaining their memories and adding their capabilities on top of your own. And maybe you build yourselves a new life in this new universe, only to discover that your smooth lizard cock has once again carved through the fabric of existence and deposited you somewhere else, and maybe it keeps doing it, over and over and every time you keep slipping more and more away from who you were but you're so far gone you can't take the time to care because doing so will crush you under the weight of everything you've lost, so you maybe just keep running forewords screaming about adventure and tiddies and other awesome things that keep the terrible dread of self reflection at bay. And maybe one day you'll be duking it out with a huge jacked Greek dude who hits you in the giant space lizard man head with a rock so hard your consciousness is flung across the omniverse to a place you have no idea about, and now you don't even have your girl anymore and it's just you. You and science. Keep hustling, Kid... I've had enough of this bank."
I set out to crush the ego of some random teen girl I met a few days ago, but found out that the real ego getting crushed in that lobby was my own. Flying through the roof at max repulsor power wasn't running away, it was a tactical advance to the rear.
I'm fine.
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