Chapter 22

"This past week has been trying for us all." His voice rang out over the crowd, solemn and grave. "We have lost many brothers and sisters, brave warriors for the cause." He bowed his head, an acknowledgement to the fallen, but blue eyes peeked out of his metallic mask, searching for a reaction. The crowd murmured in agreement, and followed his lead as one, their heads mirroring his own until the entire congregation bowed to their Kaiser.

Safe behind his mask, Max smiled.

"But fear not my friends" he proclaimed, raising an armored fist above his head, "Fortune favors the righteous, and strikes down the unworthy. We survived the onslaught of the so called heroes, we weathered the storm as the Eastern savages struck from the shadows! We took all that they could throw at us and still we stand!"

The crowd roared its approval, the gathered soldiers of Max's Empire rejoicing in the presence of their leader.

"We stand here, together, in the ashes of our greatest enemy. In a single afternoon, the brave warriors of the Empire reduced the ABB to naught but a memory. " A burst of applause filled the silence after his words. Indeed, his gathering place was practically surrounded by reminders of the Empire's greatest victory. What was once a thriving market square stood empty; shattered houses, bloodstained pavement, and broken glass were all that remained of the ABB. With Lung drawing away the Protectorate, dealing with the Asian gang was almost trivial.

Max was quietly grateful to the brute, both for being idiotic enough to engage the heroes, and for forcing The Protectorate to reveal their trump card. Max was no tinker, nor was he particularly inclined towards science, so he did not have the slightest clue what kind of weapon was used to strike Lung from the sky. That being said, there was simply no possible way that The Protectorate were truthful about their ignorance. An idiot could tell that the attack saved the lives of the heroes, right as Lung would have overtaken them. There was no cape in the Bay with that sort of power, not unless Eidolon was taking in the sights, therefore it had to be tinker-tech. If such a weapon was in the hands of a villain, Max certainly would have heard about it. He suspected it was some form of anti-Endbringer weapon, a prototype perhaps, but the fact that they waited so long to reveal it was telling. Either it took a ludicrously large amount of time to ready, as it was nearly fifteen minutes before Lung was brought down, or it was unwieldy enough that it couldn't be brought in range easily. In either case, it posed no danger to the Empire's blitzkrieg tactics. They would rely on overwhelming force as they always have. Even... diminished as they were, the Empire was the strongest force in the city by far. Who was left to challenge them, after all? The Merchants? Scum, drug-addled fools, the bottom dregs of society. Coil? He had vanished without a trace, his entire operation quietly disappearing underground. The Protectorate? With the ABB gone, the Empire held more land and authority than the heroes ever could. All that once belonged to Lung, Max would take for himself.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

This was Empire territory now, and his men would soon have free reign on it. Left alone, they would likely spend an inordinate amount of time removing 'undesirables' while proclaiming their own superiority, so Max needed to direct their fervor while it still ran hot.

"My friends!" Max cried dramatically, and the masses quieted, hanging on his every word, "The Empire is not content to merely sit on its laurels! We will not stand idle while our brothers and sisters languish in captivity! Last week, we fought for vengeance against the Asian savages! This week, we fight for justice against the false authorities who would imprison us all for the high crime of protecting ourselves!" Noise washed over him, the exultation of the mob a drug of unmatched potency, and Max raised his arm in a salute.

"For the Empire!"

The crowd echoed his battle-cry, a declaration of intent, a daring challenge to the Protectorate.

The Empire was coming, and none could stop them.

---

At least, that's the feeling Max left the crowd with. In reality, they piled into separate vans and quietly positioned themselves to head off the PRT's prisoner transport. Still, his speech had left them flush with white pride and fully willing to act as fodder.

Which, of course, they were.

Only exceptionally stupid men, or zealots, would willingly rush into battle against armed opponents with nothing but baseball bats and crowbars. The Empire had a lot of both, with more crawling out of the woodwork ever since their victory over the ABB. Max would happily use them to free his more useful minions.

Minions like Victor and Cricket, who were currently locked in the back of an armored car and surrounded by a miniature army of heroes and PRT troopers. It was flattering, in a way, to see how prepared the Protectorate were for the Empire's attack. The escort was close together, clumped enough that Max could not split them with his steel walls unless he wished to skewer them. It was clever of them, to utilize the handicap he had given himself. Demonizing Shadow Stalker had been a foolish idea, Max was willing to admit. When that idiot Jeffrey Randall came to him, his first impulse was to crucify the man and leave him on the Boardwalk to rot.

Ah, but embarrassing the Protectorate had been so tempting. He still held Randall, still held some small hope that a trial could be used for some form of future leverage. Maybe, in time, the idea would bear fruit, but for now it simply served as a handicap. He couldn't strike at the heroes with his usual... enthusiasm.

He couldn't.

But Bakuda could.

Specifically, the three pilfered grenades that Kaiser's men had placed along the road last night.

Max did not have the slightest clue what the grenades would do, but he wagered they would devastate the PRT escort, and possibly catch a hero or two with something to put them down. The triggering mechanism wasn't even particularly complicated, a simple pin to pull, obviously built with Oni Lee in mind. It was all just a matter of timing, and a long, thin piece of wire. He stood slightly apart from his fellows, both to conceal the trigger, and keep himself hidden from the PRT once the fighting started.

Max counted the seconds down in his head, as the convoy approached his position. He chose his ambush site well. They hid in the shadows of a dilapidated office building, right before the freeway entrance. The grenades would reduce the ramp to rubble, and the survivors would be forced to fight. Bakuda would take the blame for the explosion. A simple accident of fate, Max would tell the masses, a sign that the Empire was in the right, that even their enemies would unknowingly assist them.

The Protectorate wouldn't believe it, but it was not them who Max needed to convince.

With calm confidence, Max pulled the wire in his hand taut. The pins of each grenade popped free, and for a moment all was calm.

And then the grenades practically leapt out of the ground, arcing straight towards him.

Max barely managed to mask his shrill scream as a curse, and threw up a wall of steel to intercept the deadly projectiles. He was close enough to hear the clank of impact, and he threw himself behind the nearest wall.

A soft thump was the last thing he heard, before a wave of heat washed over him, and his world exploded into agony.