Chapter 51: 5-2 Scattered

Scattered 5.2

2000, September 23: Unnamed, Ivory Coast

I stepped through the portal.

Fluorescent lights illuminated the hall. The walls were painted an eggshell-white, almost insulting in its inoffensiveness. The hall I found myself in looked like it belonged in a hospital. One thing I noticed was how immaculately clean this whole place was. There wasn't a single smudge nor the slightest stain of dirt. If I were a poetic man, I'd say it was in contrast to Cauldron's many, many sins, perhaps some insightful comment about the banality of evil, but I wasn't.

"Thank you, Doormaker, Clairvoyant," I nodded as the portal closed behind me. It never hurt to be nice, especially to people who saw your every breath. "Custodian? Are you there?"

I felt something brush my shoulder and fix my fedora just so. "Thank you, Custodian. My name is Hyunmu, the newest member of Cauldron. Can you point me to the meeting room?"

I felt something gently tugging me by the sleeve and allowed myself to be led through the winding maze of corridors, each as pristinely white as the last. Finally, Custodian released the hardened air of her power and left me standing before a pair of office doors. The varnished wood was as pristine as the rest of the hall, completely unassuming. If I didn't know better, I'd never guess that the biggest conspiracy across countless earths was headquartered here.

I could see behind them easily enough. Everyone was there. A dark-skinned woman in a lab coat who could only be Doctor Mother was flipping through a list of dossiers, each populated with names, psych profiles, and driving motives and ambitions. It seemed Cauldron was ready to distribute its newest batch of powers.

To her right, a man in his late twenties with professionally cropped blonde hair and a clean-shaven face looked through a report on the most recent endbringer casualties. He could only be Kurt Wynn, formerly Harbinger of the Slaughterhouse and currently known as the Number Man. The casualty report he was skimming was incredibly detailed. There were things I'd expect, like the number of dead capes, but his report also included the cost of injuries and damaged infrastructure, down to the last cent and euro with a ninety-eight percent confidence and a two percent margin of error.

Fucking ridiculous.

To the maybe-not-a-doctor's left was the iconic flying brick herself. She had a laptop open in front of her and was typing out an email to the US president in her capacity as the chief director. I skimmed it. It was mostly meaningless platitudes about how she'd pursue the national interest. I smiled a little at the pace she was typing. I could see the keyboard and the reinforced springs that made up its many keys. The speed she was typing at required nothing less. Not quite tinkertech, but not exactly available on the market.

The rest of the Founders sat to the left of Alexandria. Legend, Eidolon, and Hero looked just about dead in their chairs; they lacked Alexandria's chrono-static stamina and they'd all been floating around Naples for a week of nearly nonstop humanitarian aid.

I saw Hero glance worriedly at the chair next to Contessa. My chair.

Contessa, even after our last sorta-friendly chat, I didn't dare think of her as Fortuna here, sat sipping from a cup of black coffee. She sat to the right of Number Man and across from Hero. As always, she was the picture of understated confidence.

I breathed in deeply. "Well, Yusung, congratu-fucking-lations, you're one of the people who rule the world. Now get in there and un-fuck Earth-Bet."

With that less than stellar pep talk, I turned the handles and pulled the doors wide. I could imagine what Contessa wanted with her outfit choice. For all their posturing, capes weren't immune to the magic of a good first impression, perhaps even more susceptible than most. So, I did my best.

I strutted. I marched up to my chair like I owned the place.

I plopped down into my chair, raised slightly so the table didn't swallow me completely, and tucked my bangs behind my ear. I removed my fedora and twirled it on one finger before placing it right next to Contessa's.

"Hello everyone, marvelous day we're having, eh?" I said with a cheeky grin and savored the way they stared at me. I may or may not have practiced my thinker-smug grin in the mirror, all for this one moment.

Legend, Eidolon, Number Man, and Doctor Mother looked at me like the Matrix had begun to unravel, like I was the last piece of a puzzle they'd been working on for years, only to find that the final piece didn't fit into the hole they'd made.

To her credit, the only sign of Alexandria's surprise was a minute twitch of her eyebrow, one I'd never have noticed if I wasn't specifically looking for it. Her lips twitched upward into what could, maybe, be considered a smile.

The real gold was Hero. After all, he knew me best. He had built up an image of who Andy Kim was over the past few months. And though his image of me shattered irreparably last week, he had bigger things on his mind until now. He'd shelved any concerns regarding me as something to address after Leviathan. Now that Leviathan had been pushed back, the giant conundrum that was my existence came crashing back down on him.

Like Alexandria, he knew of my relationship with Contessa, at least the bare bones of it, but the intentional similarities we were playing up made his brain blue screen like an old Windows. He gaped like a goldfish.

Then the comparison made me giggle and the illusion we crafted began to crack.

Number Man recovered first. Initial surprise over, our resident sociopath seemed to accept my presence like a sea otter bobbing with the waves. "Your tie is crooked two-point-six degrees to the left," he drawled.

I rolled my eyes and flipped him off. "Everyone's a critic."

"Quite."

Alexandria interrupted our verbal spar. "Perhaps we should begin by introducing our newest member?"

I nodded. "Andy Yusung Kim. Hyunmu of the DC Wards. Formerly Rubedo of the Phoenix Wards. Nice to meet you all. As for why I'm here, I had a one-time vision of the future, including the death of Scion. Or Zion, or the Warrior if you prefer to go by the entity's self-designation. Said vision could be best compared to a book or play, a what-if series of events that might have happened if I did not exist. I don't know everything, but I know enough to refine Contessa's Path for more favorable outcomes. As such, I will be working with her primarily as her protégé and advisor."

"What the hell? What vision?" Eidolon started. For the most powerful parahuman in the world, he looked shockingly unremarkable. He had a bit of a gut that, sitting down, his cloak failed to fully hide. "What did you change?"

"For starters, Dave, Hero was supposed to die a week ago during the Siberian Incident."

"How do you-"

"I didn't tell him," Contessa cut him off with a shrug. "He knew my real name as well."

The room fell silent to process that information. Contessa's name wasn't a secret because it could be taken advantage of, but because she wasn't even from Earth-Bet in the first place. The name "Fortuna" was a completely meaningless designation for most. Knowing it made absolutely zero difference. One could argue that "Fortuna" ceased to exist long ago and "Contessa" was all that remained.

And because of this, it was a name that just wasn't used. Ever.

"I also knew that Leviathan would hit Naples and arranged matters with Contessa to evacuate as many people as feasible without raising too much attention. Oh, and just to get this out of the way," I began to point at each person. "Eva. Kurt. Keith. David. Eugene. Rebecca. Fortuna. William left, but his designation is now the Siberian. I'm also aware of other auxiliary members of Cauldron such as Doormaker, Clairvoyant, Custodian, and Slug. And again, I'm Andy."

More silence. It was Legend who spoke first this time.

"Then let me start by saying thank you," he said. "Hero is a dear friend and I don't know what we would do without him."

"I do. Trust me, it's not pretty."

"Be that as it may, Cauldron isn't a place for young-"

"No," I cut him off. "None of that, Legend. I appreciate it. Truly, I do, but you're not doing yourself any favors. Get this through your head. I'm not a child. Mentally, I mean. I know what I look like, but I was already an adult trapped in a child's body long before the Red Sands Incident. I know how Eidolon dies. I know how Alexandria dies. I knew how Hero was supposed to die. I know how to kill an endbringer. I know how to kill Scion. Frankly, you need me."

"This isn't a daycare-" Eidolon started again.

"No, this is the Illuminati. This is the place where we decide the course of the world and damn millions to their deaths for the single fragment, a cinder of a cinder of a cinder's worth of hope of being able to break the Cycle. If the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, this is where we make the cobblestones."

"Contessa-"

"Didn't tell him anything," she said, interrupting the trump-ten yet again. "I picked out his outfit, but that is all. The fact of the matter is that I am blind during trigger events and endbringer fights. Yusung provides valuable insights that I can use to refine the Path."

"Can you see endbringers?" Alexandria asked, all business. I shouldn't have been surprised that she was so readily accepting of my presence. She always was the poster-girl for the "greater good" school of moral fuckups.

"Some. Like I said, it was a one-time vision. Next one will be Behemoth in February, somewhere in British Columbia. Leviathan will hit the following July, somewhere in India. After that, my information gets murky as the future gets changed around. Endbringer attacks aren't the vital information you think they are anyway."

"Oh?"

"No, what you really need to know is the true nature of the Cycle, the purpose of the Shards, different ways of killing Scion, and potential ideas for how to remove Eden's failsafe."

"Failsafe?" Doctor Mother asked. She was a middle-aged, dusky-skinned woman with a lab coat, though I had no clue just what she was a doctor of. Last I checked, "geocide and war crimes" wasn't an available major.

"Yup. Sorry to break it to you, but there will be a third endbringer called the Simurgh. Nine feet tall naked lady with ivory-white skin and dozens of wings sprouting from her body in no particular pattern. Hauntingly beautiful, but in an uncanny valley sort of way. In my vision, she appeared over Lausanne, Switzerland in December of 2002. She's the least immediately destructive, but also the most dangerous endbringer by far."

"Powers?"

"Shaker, tinker, thinker, master. She's going to be the most powerful precog in the world and will use her telekinetic abilities to treat humans like Rube Goldberg machines, setting up dominos months or even years in advance. Worst of all, she'll be able to access every tinker Shard in the network within her immediate vicinity."

"And how do we beat her?"

"Sleeper. You locked her in Sleeper's storm, but even that's a delaying tactic in my opinion. Still, she might not show up in the same place or at the same time anymore." I shrugged. "Like I said, the future's changed. It's not worth hypothesizing about at the moment."

"Then your information is unreliable."

"Some of it, but others, such as the capabilities of powerful capes and different synergies, are not. Ultimately, I had several crisis-points, points at which I could alter the course of events, and I had to choose when I wanted to act. I decided that saving Hero was worth losing some future knowledge."

"Why?" Hero asked. He startled, as if he hadn't expected himself to speak. "Not that I'm not grateful to be alive, but… Why me?"

I smiled wanly. "The PR answer is that you're a major male role model in my life and I wanted to make sure my idol was safe. Admittedly, that's at least partly true. You're one of the few good things in this world, a real light in the dark type, but the real answer is that you have the Stilling."

"Excuse me?"

"Stilling, that's the name of your Shard. You know how Scion has his golden beams? Well, those beams dismantle things on a subatomic level, literally causing particles to 'go still.' Those beams are one of the few things that can seriously injure an entity and you have them because you won the Shard lottery. You drank Eden's version of Scion's beams."

"I…"

I gave him a moment. I could understand his shock. I'd effectively told him that he could one day make tech that could rival our greatest enemy. He'd hoped, as had everyone else, but it was only now that they had full confirmation of his importance.

"Yeah, heavy is the crown and all that. And that's why you need to live, no matter what. You matter, more than practically anyone else. It was a freak accident that William had his meltdown immediately prior to an endbringer attack, but that kept Contessa from acting against him, and therefore from saving you. I decided the Stilling was worth it, even if it means I have to take a bigger role in things going forward."

"And what role will you be taking going forward?" Number Man asked. He peered at me with a hawkish gaze that made me want to squirm. I wondered what sorts of numbers he was seeing from me.

"He will be my protégé," Contessa spoke. "His primary job will be to reinforce and refine the Path with the ultimate aim of making Cauldron's position as strong as possible when we inevitably confront Scion. In the meantime, he will also work to develop his power and act as auxiliary support for our operations."

"Lovely, there are two of them," Eidolon muttered. Still, he seemed resigned to my presence if not outright welcoming.

"Even had you not brought him here, you would have continued to work with him," Alexandria pointed out.

Contessa nodded. "Indeed. This is courtesy, a way to tell you that we have a new member, nothing more."

"Very well then. Let us move on with the meeting. Number Man?"

And surprisingly, they did. Hero and Legend obviously had reservations, but they acquiesced all the same, one more proof that they were too reliant on the Path.

Number Man gathered the report in front of him and spoke. "Of the roughly two million people in the metro area of Naples, Italy, one hundred twenty thousand people were evacuated before Leviathan made landfall. Initial evacuations did not involve the Italian national government. Contessa arranged for accidents, pipe breaks, gas leaks, and other minor emergency drills that subtly relocated coastal neighborhoods without raising excessive alarm with the goal of making organized evacuation efforts smoother by relieving potential areas of congestion. She then raised a more general evacuation warning in crucial residential areas to further streamline upcoming emergency response. She also repositioned the undersea warning network made by Bluesong around the Mediterranean.

"Six hours before landfall, the Italian government was made aware of the imminent attack and began to gather humanitarian aid and military resources. Military regiments were repositioned to best use the window of time provided. They also alerted select allies with the possibility but did not sound a global alarm because the source of the information remained untested.

"Two hours before landfall, Leviathan entered the Mediterranean. A general evacuation order was issued to the people of Naples and the surrounding coastline at this time. The initial domino effects arranged by Contessa previously relieved the congestion typical of general evacuation orders, allowing the remaining people to either leave the city or head to a shelter.

"By the end of the battle, eight thousand two hundred forty-eight people died, all of them when a shelter was breached during the battle. An additional one hundred seventy-eight people were killed over the last week through a variety of sources ranging from lack of readily available medication to general looting and mayhem. Damage reports are still coming in, but most have been quantified. I estimate that two billion euros worth of damages have been done to the city, with an additional eight hundred million euros of damages spread out across various other coastal settlements.

"This is officially the least destructive endbringer battle we've had to date," Number Man finished his report, tone still strictly clinical. I could see Legend and Hero sit up a little straighter at the news. "However, there may be some unforeseen side effects of the battle. Namely, rumors are already spreading that someone was able to predict an endbringer attack. Immense pressure is being placed on the Italian government to reveal this new thinker, information they naturally lack. Nonetheless, there is mounting resentment among the residents of Naples who were not able to evacuate the city completely and numbers predict that the city will become a cape hotzone in the near future."

I sighed. Of fucking course. I should have expected it. Even for Contessa, there weren't many ways for her to move everyone in the city in less than a day, and no way of doing so without Leviathan potentially changing targets. The Simurgh wasn't active yet, but that didn't mean Leviathan had no agency of his own. I knew this. I specifically asked her to minimize the loss of life and she'd done so. But I failed to account for how the people remaining behind would feel.

Numbers meant jack shit. From the perspective of those forced to take shelter, their government failed them. The Italian government had vital information and cherry-picked who would be evacuated and who would be forced to remain. I could imagine what they were thinking. Weren't they Italians too? Weren't they citizens too? Didn't they deserve to know?

A lower statistic must have felt like cold comfort, a slap in the face compared to the abandonment they must have felt. Not everyone would feel this way of course, but a large enough minority would that they could cause some problems down the line.

"Fucking Earth-Bet," I swore under my breath. Even when I did something praiseworthy, it seemed like Murphy would find a way to fuck me over. I did my best to clamp down on the frustration.

Contessa continued the report from there. "I followed up on the situation when my Path cleared. I identified forty-nine new triggers. The three most numerous categories are master, mover, and brute, presumably in accordance with their desire for control over their situation, escape, and survival respectively. Our theory on trigger trends does seem to hold some weight.

"I've made arrangements for most to join various heroic or independent organizations to stabilize the region, though it's worth noting that almost half of all heroically aligned capes, both new triggers and those native to Naples prior to this, will leave Italy altogether. Their disillusionment with their government is not something I can fix without distorting the Path too far."

"That's acceptable," Alexandria nodded. "Will those who remain cause problems for the Custodes?"

"Yes. Fifty-seven percent of heroic capes will remain in Naples and the surrounding area. Many will form power blocs of their own, though a few will sign up with the Custodes. We should be able to capitalize on their declining popularity to pursue our own political agenda."

Alexandria nodded in agreement even as I rolled my eyes. I wished I could handwave away all the problems and moral quandaries that came with running a global conspiracy, but I couldn't. Of course they'd seize more power with every opportunity given. Truthfully, I couldn't say that I'd do any different.

Then it was Alexandria's turn.

"Three hundred twenty-nine capes participated in the defense of Naples. Casualties were likewise minimal among parahumans thanks to Rubedo's contribution." She gave me a minute nod. "Sixty-three capes were lost, a nineteen percent casualty rate. Leftover potions were distributed to the local disaster response teams as per his wishes."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Hearing that was like a weight of my back. I finally knew for a fact, had concrete proof in the numbers, that I'd done it. I mattered. I'd made a difference. It wasn't large. Leviathan casualty rates typically hovered somewhere around thirty percent, but that eleven percent difference was a difference of thirty people, thirty lives I'd saved.

So absorbed in my own relief was I that I almost didn't hear her continue.

"As stated, the Italian government is unaware of where the warning came from. However, certain parties strongly suspect the United States and Watchdog because we were the ones to respond first to their call for aid. We should discuss how to leverage this information."

Eidolon let out an annoyed sigh. "Alright, fine. Great endbringer fight. Fewer deaths. Are we done with the casualty reports? None of this affects how we do things."

"Yes," she replied. "We can move on to what we should do going forward to maximize our influence in Europe."

"Fine, let's just get on with it."

The meeting continued, though most of what was discussed was just rehashing what they were already doing. They would step up sale of Cauldron vials, carefully curating conflict in major cities to incite new triggers.

As it turned out, Cauldron did not exclusively sell to those with heroic intentions such as Battery, Triumph, and Gallant. Their, our, general policy was to sell the vials to prop up whichever side was losing at the time.

It was like a pendulum. When the heroes threatened to stabilize a city, Cauldron would drop a few vials in the hands of prospective villains or call in a favor to have a gang relocate from elsewhere. When circumstances threatened to destabilize the status quo too far in the other direction, such as immediately following an endbringer attack, vials would go to those who were lawful-good, or at least more neutral, to ensure that society did not collapse entirely.

Just knowing I was now part of this made me a little queasy inside and I resolved to get my hands on those dossiers Doctor Mother was flipping through earlier. If nothing else, I could hopefully provide a moderating influence. Curating conflict didn't mean the vials had to go to indiscriminate murderers and rapists after all.

The Blasphemies could not be directed nor predicted. I knew they would commit regicide in the Netherlands, but that was a decade in the future so I had little to contribute there. The consensus was to have them and powerful tinkers across Europe monitored, just in case the creation of a fourth Blasphemy began. I suspected that they were independent agents controlled by the Shard network, but I had no great insight into what their precise aims were.

Lastly, I proposed that we watch for endbringer worship as a growing movement. Originally, the attack on Naples saw a surge of people disillusioned with the system. They saw the endbringers as heralds of change, God's agents sent to punish the corrupt world. Sure, most were the sorts of religious nutjobs that knew nothing of their own religion, but there were also plenty of people who took advantage of said idiots to gain power.