16

 Chapter Text

"Um, we are underage, you remember?" Hemlokk said to Bayleaf. She wasn't concerned about being heard; the driving beat of the music pretty much drowned out everything. She was so glad she'd learned to turn down her hypersensitive hearing.

"One of three answers to that," he said with a doggy grin. "One: Not in dog years, Two: who cares, and Three: I won't tell if you won't." He laughed at her expression and tugged on her hand. "Come on, let's dance." Ears flicking in a lupine blush, she followed.

The moment they got out on the floor they started attracting attention. People called and waved. Some started taking pictures. "Oh no Dad's gonna see the pictures and kill us both--" Hemlokk whimpered, starting to panic.

"It's okay, I told him I was bringing you here," Bayleaf said next to her ear. "It took some talking but I persuaded him it was a good way to confuse people about your age..."

She sagged with relief. "Oh thank-- why didn't you tell me that first?" she said.

"Uh, because you're cute when you get all panicky?" he confessed with a grin.

"Rrrr..." she mock-growled at him. That only made him laugh more.

Bayleaf's plans for the night unfortunately started to go a bit off-script at that point. He'd forgotten that he'd left quite an impression the last time he was here, and that even in the Palanquin a pair of werewolves were going to be the center of attention. Pretty soon the two were all but encircled by people shouting things, taking photographs, or just generally gawking and being impolite gits.

Hemlokk started getting tense next to him. "Well, there had to be a first time," he said to her, feeling a little nervous. It was a lot easier when you weren't on a date to be the center of all this invasive attention. That, and being half loopy from sleep deprivation and exhaustion had helped... "Better here than out on the street, right?"

She realized he was right. She nodded, forcing herself to relax. She was going to have to learn to handle rude mobs like this sooner or later, right?…

Then Newter stuck his oar in. A spotlight lanced down, illuminating them where they stood. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE AT THE PALANQUIN WOULD LIKE TO WELCOME BACK ONE OF OUR FAVORITE GUESTS, THE WEREWOLF OF BROCKTON BAY, THE SKINWALKER, MY MAN BAYLEAF!" there was applause and whistles. Bayleaf waved and gave a canine smile. What else could he do?

"AAAAND MAKING HER DEBUT, THE LOVELY LADY WOLF ON HIS ARM, HEMLOKK!" Taylor actually yipped, then gave a wave to everyone. "MY MAN GOT HIMSELF A LADYFRIEND TO CALL DOWN THE MOON WITH. AWHOOOO! NOOOIIIICE GOING, BAY!"

"AND NOW AS A TRIBUTE TO OUR NEW "CUTEST COUPLE"…." There was the sound of a record needle scratching (surely faked, Bayleaf thought. Wasn't everything digital these days?) and a new tune started playing--- Bayleaf and Hemlokk both looked confused as the oldies song opened...

ooOO"And they call it Puppy Love…."OOoo

That got a few laughs from the floor. Bayleaf and Hemlokk shot disgusted looks at the DJ boot high above.

"OKAY OKAY, JUST KIDDING-- NOW LET'S GET SOME REAL TUNES ROLLING..." the fake needle scratched again.

ooOO"Dark in the city night is a wire/ Steam in the subway earth is afire/Mouth is alive with juices like wine/And I'm hungry like the wolf ..."Oooo

"Newter!!" Bayleaf barked. The audience was cracking up.

"OKAY OKAY I GOT IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM I SWEAR…. AND HERE WE GO--"

ooOO"Hey there Little Red Riding Hood

You sure are looking good

You're everything a big bad wolf could want...Owooooo..." Oooo

The two of them could see Newter in the DJ booth, laughing his tangerine ass off. Bayleaf started stalking toward the stairwell that led up to the booth, a dangerous glint in his eye.

"WAGH, HE's COMING THIS WAY! BAR THE DOOR! EVERY FREAK FOR HIMSELF! AUGH, PLAY THE NEXT MIX!!"

The lightshow started up again. With a synthetic squeal of needle on vinyl the soundsystem resumed its normal dance floor beat. Bayleaf decided to let him live and turned back. Hemlokk was still standing on the illuminated floor, giggling helplessly. "Just… let's just dance," he said, shaking his head and giving her a twirl.

For a brief moment the two of them faltered. The same thought went through both their heads at the same time: I don't know how to dance! Then each paused again as they realized they did…  Taylor was the first to break the stasis. No way was she dancing the Macarena, doggone it. On a whim she tried stringing a few steps from each of the dances in her memory together. To her surprise it more or less worked, the driving beat of the music smoothing out the rough edges. Hesitantly, then with more enthusiasm, Adrian followed her lead. They both were keenly aware that probably looked as silly as heck... but soon neither one cared.

The Ale Hall was well known as one of the major hangouts of the Empire Eighty Eight. There were biker bars that were less gratuitous about the identity of their main clientele. The whole tavern was done in late German beer hall, with decorations in darkened corners that smacked a little bit too much of the mid 1940s for any normal person's comfort. At any given time of day the bar was packed with skinheads of all stripe and plumage, downing cheap beer and bragging about their alleged achievements, whether with booze, brawling and women or on behalf of "the cause." More than a few simply sat and stared with gimlet eyes at anyone who dared enter. Few who didn't belong failed to take the hint. Those who did usually exited head or feet first, and often into the back alley behind the Hall where they were further educated by the brotherhood in the error of their ways.

For those who could actually pass that gauntlet untouched, there were the amenities of the second floor. Kaiser, and Allfather before him, had spared no expense in adorning that upper floor, decorating it in the style of a Viking mead hall. From broad beams crossing the ceiling to viking warshields and axes decorating the walls to dim torchlike lanterns to the broad, heavy oaken table that stretched the full length of the single room, style, if not exact authenticity, were the word of the day. This was the table the inner circle of the E88 sat at, and nothing less than the most grandiose would do.

Seated at the head of this great oak masterpiece, in a carved oaken chair that was throne in all but name, was Max Anders, AKA Kaiser. He was dressed in his full Lord Sauron armor. Hookwolf was there as well, leaning over the left arm of the wooden throne. Alabaster was to his right. All of them were staring in fascination at the screen of the smartphone in Kaiser's hand.

"A panda," Kaiser said. "My son has turned into a panda." Mercifully the rest of the Cape contingent of the E88 wasn't present. This was mortifying enough.

"Well," Hookwolf smirked. "At least he's still half white."

Kaiser's helmeted head turned and stared at him long and hard. "I despise you for that joke." Hookwolf shrugged and tried to look innocent. He failed utterly.

"Still, we need new blood," Alabaster said. "With Purity leaving and Rune gone missing, we could need fresh young faces to oh I just can't say it…." the pasty white indestructible man put his face in his hands.

"This does not leave this room. I will be speaking to him at the Medhall building in an hour--" the phone in his hand beeped. Kaiser looked down, puzzled. He tapped the screen to accept.

"Sir, this is Sneed, did you receive my last email?"

"Yes. With the photo. Why are you calling?"

"Sir, we've arrived and your son is going in right now--"

Kaiser growled impatiently. "As he is supposed to, he is supposed to wait for me there at Medhall until I am ready to--"

"No sir, not Medhall… He's going into the Ale Hall."

"What? I didn't say to bring him here!" If the rank and file of the Empire Eighty Eight saw his ridiculous spawn….

"He was insistent, sir."

"And how did he know I was here?"

"He got it out of Wilson, sir. After he punched Micheals out. Again."

"...What?"

"Then he knocked both of them unconscious and made me drive us here, sir." The ratfaced little man was almost whimpering.

There was a commotion from downstairs. A large number of men jeering, and then shouting. And then the shouting grew alarmed and was joined by the sound of breaking furniture. Sneed started shouting over the line. "Sir, several of the men tried to jump him and they… OH my that looks painful he just-- AHG! Kicked a man over the bar--" more crashing below... "That was a Roundhouse kick to the--" The capes heard the sound of several bodies hitting the walls and floor. "AAAAAaand ohmigosh NOT THIS WAY--" There was a loud snap and a scream that would have done Wilhelm proud. "Arms aren't supposed to bend that way!!!" More thumps, bangs, smashes, and screams echoed up from the floor below. "Somebody send some help down here!"

Kaiser sat there, shooting looks from his phone to the doorway and back to his phone again. The disbelief that was surely on his face was showing on Hookwolf's and Alabaster's.

"Sounds like Junior's a bit feistier than he used to be," Hookwolf chuckled.

Kaiser motioned to Alabaster. "Go down there and deal with it," he growled. The bone-white man got to his feet and left via the grand double doors at the entrance to the hall.

He promptly returned the same way, at high velocity and high altitude, to hit the wall behind Kaiser with a bone-jarring smack. He slid, groaning, down the wall and out of sight behind Kaiser's chair. Alarmed, Kaiser half-rose to his feet. Hookwolf jumped into the middle of the room, hooked blades protruding from his skin in every direction.

Through the open doors stepped a panda. A panda wearing a black silk kung fu uniform and carrying a bamboo staff.

Hookwolf stared. Kaiser stared. Alabaster (who was pulling himself up off the floor) stared. Hookwolf started chuckling. "Hey there, Theo," he said. "Ready for round two?"

The most alarming thing of the whole matter was that Theo looked at Hookwolf, and smiled. "You know something Hookwolf? I'm going to enjoy this." He struck a martial arts pose and thrust one hand out at the laughing killer-- and jade colored lightning erupted from his fingertips. With a sound like an erupting Tesla coil it lashed across the room, striking Hookwolf in a dozen places, dancing and arcing over the half-metal man and making him flop and shake and spasm where he stood.

"Ahiaiaarrgghghabababahbhbhahahhauuuggghrrbhabhabhaaugh!!!!"

Theo cut the lightning off; with a groan Hookwolf slumped to the floor, a pile of tarnished metal blades and burnt, smoking meat.

Before Hookwolf hit the floor Alabaster was on the move; his Power had gone through it's five second cycle, reverting him back to the perfect, uninjured state he had started at. He darted forward, drawing his gun.

Theo rushed forward to meet him. Moving impossibly fast he snatched up one of Hookwolf's broken blades and pinned Alabaster to the table by his gun hand, driving it through the wrist and inches deep into the wood of the table. Alabaster's immediate future was one full of pain. Due to his 'reboot' power, he would heal over and over again, physically reverting every 4.35 seconds to his original state, but that blade would still be there. Until someone pried that blade out, Alabaster was going nowhere. Theo left the man shrieking and cursing and grappling with the blade through his wrist, and headed for his father.

Kaiser panicked. He lashed out with his power; razor sharp blades burst from the floor between himself and his son, turning the space between them into a thicket of swords. Theo halted inches from the blades and cupped his paw-like hands; a ball of blue-white flame erupted from them and formed into a giant ghostly tiger. Roaring, it leapt through the blades as if they weren't even there and bore the screaming crime lord to the ground.

Max lashed out at the tiger, spearing it again and again with blades he grew from his gauntlets. They passed through the creature like it was a ghost. It pinned him to the floor with its weight. He felt its jaws close around his throat, its fangs passing through his armor as if it wasn't even there.

"Pull the blades back, Father," Theo's voice commanded. The tiger growled, its fangs squeezing. Max flexed his powers and the blades disappeared. Theo stepped closer, till he was in his father's line of view. "Here's the deal, Dad," he said.

"You don't have a son anymore. You don't have a daughter. You don't have an ex-wife. As far as you're concerned, Kayden, Aster, and me-- we never existed. We're gone, and you never bother any of us again."

"Or what?" Kaiser mocked, sweat rolling down his face inside his helmet. "You'll come back and kill me? Forget having the guts, boy, you haven't got what it takes. You beat up a bunch of bottom-rung biker thugs and you caught me and a couple of my lieutenants by surprise. You won't even come close next time."

"Who said anything about killing you?" Theo said blandly, shrugging. "I'll just go to the cops and tell them everything I know."

At this Max exploded into laughter. "You go and break the Unwritten Rules, boy, and there won't be enough left of you to bury! You'll end up outing Kayden too. Five seconds after they find out she's Kaiser's ex-wife, they'll be storming her front door to take Aster away."

"Oh, I won't tell them anything I know about Kaiser," he said. He gave his father a smile. It wasn't a very nice one. "I'll tell them everything I know about Max Anders."

"You see, Dad, I spent the last week or so thinking. I asked myself, "What do I really know about my father?" So I started writing stuff down. And after about the third page, I thought, you know, most of this stuff the COPS would love to hear about. So I kept writing. It was a long, long list, Daddy.

Names, Places. Dollar amounts. All those times you went ahead and talked business, or just bragged to your friends about this crime you committed or that law you broke with me standing right there. Because you thought I was a non-entity. A nothing. And a worthless nothing couldn't have a thought in his empty little head, could he?

"Think I'm bluffing? How about the Francesco bill? Or the Medhall retirement fund you skimmed? Or the maid you boffed when I was fourteen, got pregnant and threw out on the street? Or maybe that underage babysitter of mine when I was twelve?" Theo's malicious smile grew wider with every twitch of recognition on Kaiser's part. "That's right, Father. All of it written down, every detail, in a dossier that I planted copies of all over the place, including in a time-locked folder on the Internet. You even look at Kayden or Aster funny ever again, I'll make you think you have your dick in a pencil sharpener.

"So I suggest you do the smart thing, Mister Maximillian Anders; You let us all go our separate ways." He put his bamboo staff over his shoulder and walked away.

"Theo-- so help me I swear I will--" the threat was choked off as the tiger's jaws tightened.

The panda boy looked back, his face scornful. "My name is not Theo," he said. "And it certainly isn't 'Anders' anymore." His staff whipped out and cracked Alabaster across the back of the head, just as he pried the blade pinning his hand out of the table. The white-skinned man slumped to the table, unconscious.

"My name is Shen."

The spectral tiger did not fade away until long after Shen walked out the front door.

Shen stepped out into the street. He stopped, planted his staff and leaned on it, overcome by the stress of what he'd just done. After a few minutes' of shaking as the adrenaline left his body, he drew a deep breath and looked around. Where to now? He had no home to go to. He couldn't go back to Kayden and Aster's place; once Kaiser finished rinsing the piss out of his armor he'd be out for blood, and staying with Kayden would put all Kaiser's most hated targets in one place. No, he was alone.

He was better off than it seemed. He had his staff, his magic pouch, and a good amount of cash stashed away therein-- he'd "borrowed" Dad's bank card number and PIN some time ago, and he'd unloaded it of several grand before his ride here. (Kayden was going to have a surprise the next time she got Aster a treat from the cookie jar.) And currently there weren't too many toughs hanging around who looked like they wanted a rematch. Still, he was already feeling terribly lost and lonely.

There were others like himself, according to Xing, the little star. He needed to find them. But for right now… he looked around. He was a few blocks over from the start of the oriental neighborhoods. He laughed to himself. I wonder if they'll accept me out of hand or reject me just as vehemently? He thought. It could go either way. But he might as well be an outcast there as anywhere else. At least he'd speak the language. Besides, he was hungry, and stereotypical or not a chinese buffet sounded just about right. He started walking.

"You! Hey You! Quit peeing on that store sign!"

The drunk taking a whiz on the storefront jumped and spun around wildly, spattering his shoes.

"Ugh, that's disgusting, your mother would be ashamed!"

He fumbled awkwardly as he tried to zip himself up, looking around wide eyed for the source of the voice shouting at him. He saw nothing.

"Now go home and sleep it off, you nasty man! Or I'll tell your mother on you!"

The drunk fled into the night, staggering down the sidewalk.

Miles away, Vicky and Aisha leaned against each other, howling with laughter. Once Bayleaf and Hemlokk had gone inside the Palanquin their cloaked quadcopters could no longer follow, so out of boredom they had decided to spend their time tormenting the nightlife of Brockton Bay. They had taken a quadcopter each and begun patrolling.

The quadcopters were equipped with powerful little spotlights and loudspeakers, and made quite the impression if one wasn't expecting them… especially as they still remained cloaked, and Aisha had figured out how to play various MP3s over the loudspeakers. Five drunks, four would-be cat burglars and at least a half dozen preteens with spray cans nearly had the life scared out of them thus far, and it was only getting funnier.

"Okay, let's swing up by Chinatown-- I got the other two copters doing a slow preprogrammed route city patrol at hight altitude… whoah, got a live one." The screen panned over, showed several armed men kicking in a storefront window. "These guys ain't gonna get scared off by no flying toys." Aisha picked up the phone line and dialed. "Hello, 911? This is the Crow's Nest, we'd like to report an armed break-in at the Sam's Pawn at..." she rattled off the address.

"Roger, we copy that, Crow's nest. The police are on their way. This is your third call tonight, Crow's Nest," the operator went on in a more conversational tone.

"Hey, girl's gotta have a hobby," Aisha said. That elicited a laugh. "We'll keep an eye on things till your boys get there so the bad guys don't surprise nobody."

"We appreciate that. And the BBPD thanks you for your assistance."

The two girls watched the screen until the red and blue lights showed up. The thugs were caught with their pants down and quickly surrendered. Both girls sighed and moved on. "That's three for three," Vicky said in a pleased voice. "Congratulations, Crow Girl."

"That's 'Mama Crow,'" Aisha corrected her.

"Aren't you worried about the police tracking the calls back here?" Vicky asked.

"Nah. Hemlokk souped it up, did some computer hacker, cracker firewall thing that makes it untraceable," Aisha said, waving her hand dismissively. It turned out that Hemlokk's powers included a 'lockpicking' ability she could use for disarming traps, bypassing security devices, and of course for picking locks. It also happened to synergise amazingly well with her burgeoning computer skills, turning someone who was already a deft computer programmer into a full blown hacker. She'd jailbroken everyone's phones, cherried out the antiviral and firewall programming in their laptops and of course hacked the absolute bejeezus out of Bayleaf's cobbled together comm center. Aisha had understood maybe one word out of ten when Hemlokk had explained what she'd done, but "that means they can't find us" translated just fine.

The quadcopters continued their slow rambling sweep of the city. It was a surprisingly peaceful night for Brockton Bay. Nothing was on fire, exploding, or climbing a building swatting down planes, anyway…

Something caught the corner of Aisha's eye. She took the controls of quadcopter three and turned it around, scanning for whatever she'd seen. At furthest zoom she caught it. Three gigantic dogs, if one was being gracious about the definition of 'dog,' were running along the rooftops with several figures clinging to their backs… "What is THAT?" Vicky exclaimed.

"Oh hell, it's my brother and his gang," Aisha said. "What the hell have they gotten into, they're running like the Devil himself--" she left QC3 tracking her brother and his friends and switched to QC4, panning back along the path they were fleeing. Two or three blocks away light was climbing up the sides of the buildings as something in the streets below burned.

"Ohh chicken biscuits," Aisha said. "They riled up LUNG somehow." The QC drew closer, she could see Lung, already quite literally blazing mad, riding in the back of a pickup. Apparently the Undersiders had been playing hide-and-go-seek with him; she could see him yelling and giving orders to the other vehicles and the ABB members on foot, telling them to split up and search.

As to the undersiders, the other quadcopter revealed that they had managed to corner themselves. They had detoured to a rooftop, barely making the leap across the four-lane from a higher roof-- Aisha could see the claw marks and torn out chunks of stone on the ledge where one of the dogs almost hadn't made it-- and had nowhere else to go. Lung and his crews were maybe a block or two away and sweeping the area. They'd have the Undersiders surrounded in minutes.

"I better get there," Vicky said. She was already slipping out of her baggy "lazy day" sweats, her Glory Girl uniform underneath.

"Don't forget your new gear!" Aisha shouted, pointing at the worktable. Vicky grabbed the tiara and belt, slipping them on and turning them up. There was a whine from the capacitor and her altered forcefield went up, an almost-invisible heat shimmer around her.

"How do I look?" Glory Girl asked, hands on her hips.

The silvery steel belt and angled headband made her look far more intimidating than her normal prom queen look, but Aisha was in no mood to banter. "Like it's time for you to go, now GO!" she said, yanking on the rope to the skylight. It swung open on creaking springs. Glory Girl shot through it and off into the sky.

Aisha hit the phone line again. This time she hit "the party line"-- the police, the PRT, and the number to Bayleaf and Hemlokk's cellphones. She actually managed to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Attention, this is the Crow's Nest, this is going out to the Police, the PRT and everybody else. Lung is on the move, I repeat, Lung is on the move. We have eyes on him, he is just Northeast of the North End scrapyard, and he is looking to corner the Undersiders..."

Bayleaf and Hemlokk tripped off the dance floor, panting and laughing. A few dollars secured a couple of bottles of Evian at the bar and they stood there, draining their drinks and cooling off.

Breet Deet. Breet Deet. Breet Deet.

Bayleaf froze; he could see Hemlokk freeze as well. That was the ringtone and vibration sequence they'd decided on for an APB from the Crow's Nest. They both pulled out their phones and took the call.

"--to the Police, the PRT and everybody else. Lung is on the move, I repeat, Lung is on the move. We have eyes on him, he is just Northeast of the North End scrapyard, and he is looking to corner the Undersiders..."

Crap.

He hit 'reply.' "Aisha, this is Bayleaf, we're on our way," he said. He put up the phone and looked over at Hemlokk. "It looks like our date night is over," he said grimly.

Hemlokk looked at him with wide, alarmed eyes. "What do we do?"

"We go and find the Undersiders and extract them. Let the Protectorate handle Lung and his gang. But I promised Aisha I'd get her brother out of the mess he was in and this pretty much qualifies." He shook his head. "Let's just hope those four idiots accept help when it's offered--"

Hemlokk suddenly put her phone back up to her ear. "Aisha, use the quadcopters, let Grue and his friends know we're incoming and we're friendly. We don't want them attacking us when we show up." She listened to the response, nodded and hung up. "She's sending one of the quads to the rooftop they're on. She says it's one block over from the scrapyard.

"We'd better move," Bayleaf said. They wedged their way through the crowds, ducked down a hallway and headed for the back exit, already swapping out their clothes with a quickchange spell.

Grue, Regent, Bitch, Tattletale and their impromptu client lay flat on the rooftop, hiding between an air conditioning unit and a tattered billboard. The dogs lay on the rooftop next to them. They were all doing their very best to look very, very small. This was not likely to make much of a difference very soon. The streets below were rapidly emptying of any civilians and filling up with ABB gangbangers. It would be mere minutes before they found out which building the Undersiders were hiding on.

Grue rolled over on his back and looked at Tattletale. Before he could ask her for any suggestions a model quadcopter appeared less than a foot over his head.

"Undersiders, this is the Crow's Nest--"

Grue nearly wet himself. He whipped out his crowbar, missing the hovering cambot by an inch. He barely resisted the urge to smother the thing in his darkness generating smoke--- that would have been as effective as a road flare in letting everyone down in the streets below know where they were hiding.

The others reacted almost like he did; Regent pulling out his taser-topped jester's staff and Tattletale whipping out her gun. Nobody, thankfully, fired. "Brian, stop that you idiot!" the quadcopter snapped at him. "I'm trying to tell you HELP is on the way!"

Grue stared up at the minicopter. "….Aisha??"

"Oh, IT SPEEEEAAAKS," the copter snarked. "Look, the Protectorate, the cops and the PRT are on their way there to handle Lung. Bayleaf and Hemlokk are on their way to haul your butts out of there. So don't shoot 'em, dumbass."

"Who the hell are Bayleaf and Hemlock?" Regent stage whispered. Everyone else lying on the roof looked like they were wondering the same thing… except for Tattletale, who suddenly looked like Christmas morning had arrived again.

"The wolf-man-- Skinwalker--"

"A wolf guy? That's our help?" Grue said in disbelief.

Then Tattletale grabbed the collar of his biker jacket and pulled him over. "Yeah, the wolf guy who took down the Merchants and all their capes singlehanded," she hissed at him. "THAT guy!"

"Are you sure he's on our side?" Grue said uncertainly. "Do we want his help??"

Tattletale pulled him closer and whispered in his ear. "He's also the cape who has Coil crapping his pants for some reason," she said almost gleefully. "He's got allies all over the place and he's been kicking over anthills that the PRT doesn't even know about yet. He may act like a clown when he's messing with Armsmaster but he's probably one of the heaviest hitters in Brockton Bay. So hell YES we want his help!"

Meanwhile Aisha was getting some incredibly bad news. "The HELL do you mean the PRT and the Protectorate are TIED UP?" she yelled into her microphone. "This is LUNG we're talking about!" And my brother, she added silently.

"What I mean, Crow's Nest, is that they've been dispatched to places all over the tri state area," the PRT dispatch officer said. "There's been a jailbreak in Midvale County Correctional involving several capes, which is occupying Triumph . Mush, Trainwreck and Skidmark have made an escape attempt while in transit on the opposite side of the state, and Assault, Battery, and Velocity are responding. and the Dragonslayers are making an attempt on a military weapons depot to the North of us, to which Armsmaster and Miss Militia left to respond an hour ago.

"At the moment the PRT and the Wards are moving to respond to your report-"

"Except everyone knows they're not allowed to engage supervillains unless it's already gone to hell in a handbasket," Aisha snarled. "At which point it's already too late!"

It was after dark when the ruckus rising out on the road woke Greg. He stumbled out of his makeshift bed, bleary eyed, but already rapidly awakening as some instinct told him that things were not well.

He scrambled up the slope of one of the junk heaps and looked out over the scrapyard fence. This was bad, this was very very bad. There were ABB gang members all over the place. Some in vehicles, some on foot. Most of them waving weapons. In the middle of the mob was a pickup truck; standing in the back was--

Lung. Greg gulped. He was already standing seven feet tall, swole, and had flames licking up and down his bare arms and chest. The paint job of the vehicle he was standing in was actually blistered from the heat; Greg didn't envy the mook who was driving the thing; it had to be like an oven.

The ABB footsoldiers were gathered around his truck. He was yelling at them all-- in English? Greg wondered. Then he thought about it; most of the asians in Brockton Bay were refugees from half a dozen different countries. English was probably the only language they all had in common. "Find the wretched brats, and KILL them," he was shouting, his voice like gravel in cement mixer. "Bring me everything they were carrying, and bring me their HEADS. Yes, even the girl! Let her be an example-- noone betrays me and lives!"

Greg clambered back down the junkpile, heart pounding. Lung was out to kill a bunch of kids. Even a little girl! And there was noone to stop it. Nobody but Greg. And Greg stood about as much chance of stopping Lung as a slug trying to stop a steamroller. There was no chance! This was suicide!

He was already reaching for the helmet even as the thought ran through his head.

There were maybe a dozen men still gathered around Lung's smoldering truck in the five-way intersection when they heard the clanking. They all fell still as a figure in gold and steel strode out of a gap in the fence around the old junkyard. It was a man, or at least a figure of a man, clad from head to toe in steel plate trimmed in gold. A round bullet helmet with a vertical slit for the mouth and nose and a horizontal one for the eyes covered his head. Burning blue eyes shone from inside the helm. A burnished round shield covered his left arm. In his right hand, he held a solid metal warhammer with a three foot handle and a head the size of a breadbox. All of it was covered in a faint aura of golden light. The figure marched out into the middle of the street and stood facing the intersection, "You go no farther, Lung!" the figure shouted, his helmet making his voice ring strangely.

"It's Triumph!" someone shouted.

"No, it's Dauntless!"

"Shut up you fools," Lung growled at them. He rested his elbows on the roof of the truck and regarded the metal-plated man before him. "Who is this idiot? Move, fool; you are in my way."

Greg's mouth was dry and his heart was hammering. He spoke up, trying to think of what one of the heroes from his video games back home would say and hoping his voice didn't crack. "I will do no such thing. I am Vindicator, and you will harm no more innocents tonight."

Greg felt his heart sink as several of the men laughed. Lung himself was smirking. "Oh, I see. The brave knight wants to slay the dragon." Lung glanced around for approval; his men obediently laughed louder. "Poor little knight, it looks like he won't get his wish." Lung looked away, already bored; if the man in armor were any threat he would have struck already. "Kill him."

All around, guns were raised and racks slid. The man in armor cringed and raised his shield just as half a dozen men opened fire on him. The alley was filled with the sound of gunfire--- and with the screams of pain as the bullets ricocheted, spattering into the gang members in every direction. Several went down, clutching at blossoming red wounds. Others with more brains leapt for cover as friendly fire chipped the brick and asphalt around them.

The armored man hadn't even staggered.

The ABB men started shouting in a garbled mess of eastern tongues; words like "Cape" and "brute" and "bulletproof" popping up amidst the mess. More men, foolish enough to ignore their own bleeding men at their feet, opened fire.

Bullets spanged and sparked off Greg's helmet. He didn't bother raising his shield or ducking. There would be no lucky bullet getting through the eyeslit of his helm or any other gap; the coverage from a paladin's armor was complete. He shifted his grip on his warhammer. Smothering the last of his fear as death rattled an inch from his skin, he began to recite the mantra that had gotten him through all these last nights and days. With every line the golden light shone brighter.

"A knight is sworn to valour,"

He pulled his shield arm back and whipped it forward. The golden disc, blazing with fire, flew straight and true. With a timpany of "CLANGclangCLANG clangCLANG clangCLANG" seven ABB men went down as the disc ricocheted off their skulls. The shield flew unerringly back to Vindicator's arm.

"His heart knows only virtue,"

The hammer whirled. An identical hammer of golden flame shot into the crowd, knocking men flying.

"His word speaks only truth,"

The hammer whirled again. Another hammer of light flew, more men were laid out in the street.

"His might upholds the weak,"

Those still standing went for their knives, bats and chains, their tire irons and nightsticks. They charged him, looking to dogpile him and beat and stab him to bloody mush. The mob closed over him-- then exploded outward as a veritable tornado of flaming hammers whirled about him in a widening spiral, breaking flesh and shattering bone.

"His blade defends the helpless,"

The ground around Vindicator was clear. He began running towards Lung, charging-- then instantly he was astride a horse of flaming light. He bore down on the astonished Lung at full gallop. The driver of the pickup had long fled-- fortunate for him, because the flaming horse struck the pickup like a speeding train, smashing the engine back through the cabin like it wasn't even there. At the last instant Greg Veder leapt from the saddle, half running, half-leaping over the crumpled hood--

"His wrath undoes the wicked!"

--- and brought his warhammer around in a smashing uppercut to Lung's jaw. Teeth shattered, jaw splintered, the dragon man of Kyushu flew off the back of the ruined truck in a back-bowed arc and smashed into the pavement.

Now the battle had really begun.

Back at the Lost Workshop, Aisha had switched from the cellphones to the commlinks. This connected her directly to the earbuds both Bayleaf and Hemlokk wore with their costumes, streamlining their communications when they were in the field. "Crow's Nest to Bayleaf and Hemlokk, It looks like most of the PRT and the Protectorate are tied up dealing with villains everywhere else but here again--"

"Crap. Do they have anyone out here to help us?" Bayleaf snapped. He managed to keep his voice level as he ran.

"They got the Wards out, and they're sending whatever they got left of the PRT officers, but you know and I know that's jack squat," Aisha said.

"Great, just what we need, Shadow Stalker running around unsupervised," Hemlokk snarled. She raced to the edge of the roof and leapt to the next, running on all fours, Bayleaf right beside her.

Bayleaf almost stumbled. "Crap, she's right, Aisha, get the quadcopters flying around the Undersiders, be on the lookout for Shadow Stalker." He'd forgotten about that issue with Shadow Stalker. Crap crap crap crap.

"Why?"

"Because she hates your brother's guts and wants to put a crossbow bolt in them," Bayleaf said, his voice intense. "His powers screw with hers, so she wants him dead. She's already taken at least one potshot at him in the past. If she sees him pinned down--"

Aisha swore. Bayleaf and Hemlokk both could hear the fear in her voice. "I got 'em orbiting the building, or rotating or whatever you call it," she said in a moment. "I-- oh crap."

Both worgen skidded to a halt. Bayleaf stood up, his hand to his ear. "What is it, Crow's Nest?"

"Things just went hairball, guys," Aisha said. "Some new cape is throwing down with Lung and his boys. HO-lee-- and he's not doing too bad either-- but he's started the big jackass ramping up!"

"Give us a description, Crow's Nest," Bayleaf barked.

"Guy, six foot tall, silver and gold armor, has a shield and a hammer and --- how in hell did he do that with his shield??-- and he's throwing them around and knocking the snot out of Lung's men!"

A shield and hammer… "Lot of golden light?" he asked suddenly. "In everything?"

"Yeah, golden glowing everything, more yellow than Scion's though and ohhh man he just laid Lung out."

"What?"Hemlokk said.

"You heard me-- he just laid Lung OUT. Blasted him in the face with that hammer and--" A faint roar echoed over the city. "And Lung is back up again and he is getting ugly FAST guys--!"

Hemlokk looked at Bayleaf. "You know something." It was a statement, not a question.

Bayleaf nodded. "We just found another Actor. A paladin. And he's just started Lung's Power escalation. We'd better move or there's not going to be anything left of him, the Undersiders or the rest of the neighborhood!" He dropped to all fours and resumed racing for the rising glow in the heart of the city.

Shar'Din Belore was not having a good day.

Operation: find the Others was a bust. In fact Operation: Don't Get Your Ass Kicked and Operation:Don't Get Caught by the Cops were doing kind of poorly as well. He'd gotten smacked around by a couple of angry people yelling in… well, in some language he didn't speak. Italian maybe? And ended up having to hide in a trash can to escape a couple of police officers who were, quote, "Responding to a report about some weirdo in a dress soliciting for a cult."

His cravings for he-didn't-know-what were past the point of just cravings. Now he was starting to feel sick. He didn't know what withdrawal was supposed to be like. Was this it? Aches, pains, weakness… it was a lot like the flu. Maybe he just had the flu? He didn't remember the flu being this bad, though…

And now he could hear people outside his trash can yelling and running around. He lifted up the lid and peeked. There were ABB members all over the place. Was a gang war starting? And here came a pickup truck with--

Oh Lord. Oh LORD. LUNG.

Shar'Din closed the trash can lid. It was nice here. Who else knew about this? Just him and Oscar the Grouch.

He half-listened to Lung screaming at his men about finding somebody and killing them and God knew what all else. Not good. Not good. So not good. What was a half-used-up stoner doing in the middle of--

No. He grabbed his long blonde hair in his fists and pulled on it. He was NOT a used-up stoner. He was NOT. He was Shar'Din Belore, Sunspark, Blood Elf, and it was his job to save the world!

...But LUNG? The guy who went six rounds with an ENDBRINGER?

...Yeah, but he was gonna kill someone. If Shar'din was gonna save the world, he had to start with somebody .

He was about to leap out of his hiding place and, he didn't know, pull a Gandalf and shout "You Will Not PASS!" when the noise outside changed. Someone was shouting.. shouting at Lung. There was a lot of laughter. Then there was gunfire!

Shar'Din cringed into a ball, expecting his galvanized steel hiding place to be perforated, and him along with it. It didn't happen. Then it didn't happen some more. Then he heard the sounds of steel on steel, of metal impacting flesh and screams of pain. Baffled at his own survival and confused by the sounds outside, he peeked again…

Just in time to see some armored cape smash into Lung's truck, crushing it like a beer can, and deliver an uppercut with a giant steel mallet that sent him flying. Lung flipped clean end over end and crashed to the ground behind the burning wreck of the truck, out of sight.

"ALL RIGHT!" Shar'din whooped.

Then Lung got back up, bigger, uglier and angrier.

"AWW CRAAP!" Shar'din squawked.

Lung had grown FAST. He was towering over the truck like a child over a toy. His skin was covered in flames and metallic scales, and his head and face were deformed into something monstrous and getting even uglier by the second. He backhanded the armored Cape, sending him rocketing across the intersection to smash into the wall next to Shar'Din's hiding place. Shar'Din heard brickwork crack as the guy hit.

The lid of the trashcan flipped away. Shar'Din sat up and looked down at the guy in knight's armor next to him. The guy's helmet had flown off, revealing a kid about Shar'Din's own age with a longish face and dirty blonde hair in a bowl-cut. He gawked, boggled.

"Greg? Greg Veder??"

Greg sat up, clutching his head in one gauntleted hand. He gawked at the gaudily-dressed weirdo who'd literally popped out of a trashcan next to him. "Who the hell are you?"

"It's me, Sparky!" Shar'Din pulled off his sunglasses and unraveled the dirty ace bandages covering his ear-points. "See?…." he paused. "Oh, wait, right--"

That hadn't helped in the least. Greg was now gawking at Sparky's pointed ears and glowing green eyes. No comprende', no recognition. Shar'Din tried to quickly think of something, anything to prove his identity. "Wait, I can prove it! I sit next to you in Current Events! Gladly is a wanker! You play HALO Online religiously! Your handle on PHO is Void Cowboy! Uhhm--"

For a second it looked like Greg was about to recognize him. Then Greg's expression of dawning comprehension turned to one of dawning panic. "DUCK!" he yelled, grabbing the front of Shar'Din's robe and yanking down. Shar'Din's trash can tipped over, decanting him onto the pavement.

Just as they both hit the asphalt a ball of fire hit the brick wall behind them, splattering flame and chunks of blackened brick in every direction. And here came Lung, stomping towards them like a mountain of death.

Shar'Din grabbed his staff and got to his feet (and hadn't it been a trick fitting the thing into that trash can with him.) He leveled the staff at the oncoming villain and shouted at the top of his lungs. " Band'or shorel'aran!"

The Arcane Eruption was perfectly cast. Blue-white light lashed out and struck Lung square in the chest, and exploded out of the ground at his feet. It not only knocked already-massive Lung on his heels but launched him twelve feet into the air, to land once again on his back with a resounding crunch. Shar'Din crumpled to the pavement, groaning.

Greg helped him sit up. "Sparky! What happened?"

"Dunno, man…" Shar'Din clutched his head. "Been feeling more and more like crap for days--" he looked up and saw a furious Lung getting to his feet. "Uh, Greg?" he pointed.

"What?" Greg looked and eeped. Lung was now twelve feet tall and sporting a face like an alien alligator. The asphalt was going soft at his feet. Some of the ABB were getting back together where they had been scattered, but they were standing well clear from the rising heat.

"We're gonna die now aren't we?" Sparky whimpered.

"Yeah," Greg replied.

Fire flowed down Lung's arms and pooled into his taloned hands. He wound up, getting ready to fling a wad of dripping flame the size of his head at the two prone would-be heroes. But before he could throw, something white and golden-haired streaked down out of the sky and struck him, feet first. He was driven sideways, plowing a yards-long furrow in the street to come up short against a storefront. The flying thing that struck him pulled away, hovering over the center of the five-way, revealing itself to be Glory Girl. She hovered over the battlefield, smiling savagely and cracking her knuckles. Greg couldn't help but notice that she was looking different from her promotional pictures-- her prom-queen tiara was gone, replaced with a metallic headband with a downward turning point in the center of her forehead. There was a large golden faux-gem set in the point that was glowing slightly. She also had a metallic segmented belt around her waist and a large round buckle. There seemed to be a distortion around her, a sort of faint heat shimmer that silhouetted her form.

Some of the braver, or stupider, ABB members started plinking shots at her. "Oh no you don't," she said. She put her fingertips up to her temples… no, to her tiara.. and began turning in a circle. A cone of pale white light, almost like a searchlight, radiated out from the gem on her forehead. Any of the gang members it swept over suddenly screamed in terror, dropping their weapons and falling to the ground or fleeing as if for their very lives. She stopped after a full three-sixty and pumped her fist. "Power upgrades for the win, Booyah!"

Lung was back on his feet again. "I' ettig tired o dis!" he bellowed, and charged the heroine. She flew at him with an enthusiastic grin on her face. They met with fists swinging.

Greg ignored the ensuing fracas to try and tend to his downed friend. "What was that you shouted anyway?" he said, putting a glowing hand on Sparky's back. "Some sort of incantation?"

"A battle cry," Sparky said.

"What's it mean?"

"'Hasta la vista, baby'" in Elvish, actually," Sparky grunted. "I-- whoah!" The golden glow of a quick paladin's heal spread over his body, then swirled inside him as he inhaled. Instantly he felt better than he had in weeks. "Whoa, do that again!"

Startled, Greg complied, hitting him with a bigger, more potent heal. Once again the glow swirled away inside the elf to who-knew-where. "Oh man, that's the STUFF," Sparky said, leaping to his feet. "Woo! Whatever that was it was just what I needed!" he looked in the direction of the ongoing fracas. "Oh man, what do we do?"

Glory Girl was obviously giving a good accounting of herself; the asphalt all around was torn up, light poles snapped, and two or three ABB vehicles abandoned in the street were now scrap. But Lung was still growing. He had Glory Girl down now and was pummeling her with both fists, sending chunks of street flying.

"We help her," Greg said. He grabbed his helmet out of the trash and put it back on, chinching it tight. "I'm a paladin, it's what we do. You're a wizard, right?"

"A mage, yeah."

"Got any buffs?" Greg asked even as he gestured at them both himself. Glowing silhouettes settled over each of them. Divine Shield, Blessing of Protection, blessing of kings…

"What-- oh yeah!" Sparky cast Prismatic shield over both of them, then SlowFall, then threw in Presence of Mind and Arcane Power on himself. He summoned an Arcane Familiar, a glowing ball of sparks that hovered at his shoulder, and for a finish, Mirror Image. To Greg's astonishment there were suddenly three elven mages standing next to him. "Okay," they said in triplicate. "LET'S DO IT."

Shar'Din and Vindicator turned and attacked. Arcane missiles and golden Hammers of Justice swarmed through the air as they shouted the only battle cry that fit.

Lung had just enough time to wonder who the hell Leroy Jenkins was before he was pummeled by a firestorm of arcane and Light magic.

It had been one hectic night for the wards. With the Protectorate scattered hither, thither and yon, it had fallen on the young trainee heroes to help hold the line when all hell started breaking loose in the Asian quarter. Something had the ABB stirred up and in full idiot mode; they were out in squads, generally running in groups of four or five, and pretty heavily armed. The impression the Wards got was that they were out looking for something or someone, and the footsoldiers were using it as an excuse to kick up some sand. Every other minute they'd run into a group of ABBs out looking to find trouble or make some of their own, and getting in clashes with the cops that tried to stop them. Rules be damned, the PRT crews were flying fast and loose with their restraining foam, and the Wards were engaging the gangsters full on.

Never had kids been so happy with their Christmas gifts. Clockblocker and Vista, one normally limited to the range of his touch and the other normally assigned to the rear and far away from the action as possible, were making a massive impact with their Power-fueled ray guns. Group after group of gun-waving thugs found themselves suddenly frozen immobile only to wake up cuffed, or worse yet shrunk to the size of Barbie dolls, scooped up, and dropped in the back of a police van.

Some few had made the mistake of opening fire on Gallant. Gallant had chivalrously allowed them their one free shot-- then gleefully returned fire with his new enhanced emotion blasts, knocking the thugs flying and leaving them lying on the floor in a groaning--- or blubbering, or screaming, or giggling-- heap. Some tried to flee down darkened alleyways. They quickly learned that Gallant's mind-enhancing goggles also enhanced his night vision. Gangbangers would disappear down a back alley, he would disappear after them, there would be the loud WHANG noise of Gallant's psi-blast and gangbangers would come cartwheeling back out.

Aegis was feeling better than he had in a long time. It's a lot more fun having a high damage threshold when you had a genuine high healing factor to go with it. The 'recombobulator' on his belt had completely healed him at least once already, letting him go fresh into the fight when he used to have to fall back just to duct tape all the holes shut. He suspected it was a lot better for police and PRT morale to not have a hero leaking all over the place from bullet and knife wounds, too…

As for Browbeat, he was thoroughly enjoying charging random groups of ABB holdouts and slapping them around without worrying his pants would get ripped to shreds. Screaming "Browbeat SMASH" was a bit excessive though.

They were working a perimeter, slowly moving inward towards the center of the chaos, sweeping up stragglers along the way. Aegis hit the commlink. "Kid Win, Gallant, get me some oversight," he said. "fly to the center of this mess and see what Lung is up to--"

"Copy," Gallant replied.

"On my way," Kid Win said.

"I'm on it," Shadow Stalker cut in.

"No, Shadow Stalker, I didn't--" Aegis snapped angrily. Crap, there'd been word that the Undersiders were in the middle of this somehow. If she ran into Grue and went off the plot--

"Didn't hear, don't care," Shadow said. He saw her silhouette ziplining over the rooftops. He swore vehemently, trying to decide if he should try and catch her--

Then the E88 showed up to the party and he was suddenly too busy to worry what Princess Grimdark was up to.

Theo, now going by the name "Shen," had an… interesting day. His trip through the Asian quarter-- at least the more tourist-friendly parts of it-- had gotten a lot of mixed reactions. There'd been a lot of gawking and more than a few photographs. There'd been a surprising bit of anger from a few people; they seemed to be under the impression that the pandaren walking through their neighborhood was mocking them somehow. The older folks had been suspicious, at least till he had startled them by greeting them in Mandarin with the proper honorifics. The younger children had been more enthusiastic, waving and shrieking and basically acting as if he were some big amusement park mascot.

He had wandered through the street market for a bit; an aggressive salesman had gotten him to hand over a few dollars for some wooden sandals and a douli-- one of the old-fashioned cone shaped straw hats. He wore it, though he wasn't sure he wasn't being pranked; Till that day he'd never seen one outside a kung fu flick. He kind of liked it, though. He felt a little more dressed, anyway.

He spent a long lunch in a chinese buffet. He had worried they would throw him out, but they'd been more than happy to serve him. He was generating a hell of a lot of foot traffic for them just being there.

It was when he was exiting that things started going sour. He had just stepped out onto the street when he found himself facing three toughs wearing ABB colors going the other way. "Holy-- it's another one!" One blurted out.

Another one?

The other two did a double take. The biggest one grinned; it did not look like a pleasant smile. He looked over his shoulder and said something to the other two… in Korean, unfortunately. Shen caught the name "Lung" two or three times in the middle. Their eager grins didn't make him feel any more confident. "You!" the big one said, pointing at Shen. "You're coming with us. Lung wants to see you."

That wasn't good. Shen looked around; the street was clearing rapidly. Three punks were no problem for him now, but he could see guns bulging under their jackets (something he'd learned to recognize from hanging around the dregs of the E88.) If he started a fight here, innocent people could get hurt. He held up his hands. "All right, all right," he said. "I-I'll come quietly. There's no need for any..." he looked behind them and cringed. "Trouble..."

They only turned and looked when they heard the car horn. Here came a convertible full of what looked like E88. They were leather clad, they were carrying weapons, they were looking bloody, battered and angry. The street had been clearing out before, now people were disappearing like water down a drain. One of the skinheads stood up in the front seat, pointing at Shen with a baseball bat and shouting.

"Oh great," Shen muttered. Some of the morons from his father's Oktoberfest fantasyland wanted a rematch. The ABB punks turned and saw the E88 rolling through their territory. Their lead stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled. More asian kids in ABB colors started appearing out of nowhere. Soon the street was crowded again, and this time it was looking uglier by the second. The lead ABB punk started shouting at the bat-wielding skinhead, who started cussing and shouting back. Guns started coming out.

Shen did the only thing he could think of. With a "Kai YI" he performed a fifteen foot leap, sailing into the air and landing in between the ABB and the E88 in a Striking Tiger pose.

His sudden appearance stunned both leaders into silence. He held his stance for one second, two seconds, three… then without warning took off running--- to the right, in between the two groups and off down the street.

He could hear the two groups shouting in outrage, then the sound of pursuit. Perfect. Now all he had to do was find the cops, or a hero on patrol, or maybe the PRT…

Because in what was in retrospect a SEVERE tactical error, he had thrown away everything that reminded him of his old life or could be used to trace him to it-- including the cell phone his father had given him…

"Aegis, this is Kid Win, I'm in position." The teen tinker was hovering over the rooftops, looking down on the five-way just to the north of the local junkyard. He was keeping back, WELL back, from all that was going down, and had shifted his new modular goggles into digital zoom to track everything.

"Aegis, Gallant. I'm on the opposite side of the combat zone. Shadow Stalker is-- somewhere in the rooftops around here, I can't spot her."

Aegis pinched off a curse. "Gimme the sitrep."

"It's Lung, alright. he's closing in on fifteen feet. I can see asphalt bubbling from here-- there are capes already engaging him-- two unknowns and Glory Girl. She's tearing into him bigtime too, I mean I've seen her fight before but--"

"Breakdown on the other two, Kid Win," Aegis interrupted.

"Some guy in medieval style armor, shield and warhammer," Kid Win said. "Serious brute rating I'm guessing, he's in there swinging… and he seems to be shooting projections of some sort, flaming hammers… The other guy's a skinny blonde guy in a robe-- with-- pointy ears and glowing green eyes? he's a serious blaster, standing off and just raining bolts of energy on Lung… whoa was that-- yes, he hit him with some sort of freeze ray too, locked his legs for a few seconds there-- the guy in the robes has some sort of bubble forcefield around himself…. And the armor guy is breaking away, him and the blaster are, it looks like they're buffing each other---"

"What?" Aegis wasn't sure he wanted to know. It sounded vaguely obscene.

"Buffing! Power boosting each other! Play more video games, Aegis," Kid Win said sarcastically. "They're hitting each other with protective shields and auras of some kind. Looks like they're amping up Glory Girl while she's fighting too… I think there might be some sort of healing effect going on too, GG had some light burns that are gone now--"

"I'm moving in to provide support fire," Gallant said suddenly.

"Gallant, don't, we're not supposed to directly engage," Aegis said.

"We're not supposed to do a lot of things," Gallant said.

Kid Win could only watch as Gallant dropped down into the battlezone. The knight-armored Ward cupped his hands and gathered a ball of psi-energy in his palms. It shot down and struck Lung between the shoulder blades. The dragon-man shrieked… in rage? Pain?… no, despair. Lung's shoulders drooped and he almost went down to his knees.

Kid Win double checked and got on the comm. "Gallant, whatever you threw at him, pour it on. He lost at least a foot in height!"

"Copy!" Gallant landed and began flinging psi-bursts hand over hand.

Glory Girl must have picked up what he was attempting because she suddenly backed off. But she wasn't dropping out of the fight. Her hands went to her temples and a cone of white light suddenly shot from her forehead, illuminating Lung. Lung screamed again, this time in fear. He dropped to all fours, lashing out like an animal in all directions. Fire splashed off of shields, forcefields, armor, and already-smouldering vehicles and buildings.

"Crap, THAT backfired," Kid Win muttered. Lung had shrunk another five feet but everyone pressing him had to fall back from the torrent of flames he'd flung out. He began dismantling and reassembling his electro-bolt pistols into a pulse rifle. Maybe he could hit a strong enough subsonic frequency to sap Lung's will…?

It didn't take long for Shen to find some PRT and their vehicle. Unfortunately he found them while they were in the middle of aiding the police in taking down still more ABB gang members. How many people were following that lunatic Lung…?

Right. Anyone in Brockton Bay with yellow skin who wasn't inflammable.

Shen ran past the PRT agents wielding the restraint foam sprayers and slapped them in the back of their helmets. "Tag, you're it!" he said, running between them.

"Wha--?" The two agents turned around just in time to see a small mob of ABB come pouring around the corner, right behind a convertible filled with skinheads. Give them props, they needed no cue; the nozzles came up and the foam flew. In seconds everything was immobilized, even the car.

Shen kept running. He leapt over a police barricade and raced on down the road, using his chi to accelerate forward.

When he finally stopped and caught his breath, he realized he was right on top of the biggest cape fight he'd ever scene. Right in the middle was Lung. He'd just knocked everyone else back with a blastwave of flame… and was looking with maddened eyes straight at Shen.

Had Lung's vision been a little clearer, he would have seen Shen wasn't who he thought he was. But flame, smoke, and pain had blurred his eyesight. "Y'ooo." Lung snarled, pointing at Shen. "I KII Yoo!"

"Ohhh sh--"

"--adow Stalker! Report! Give us your position and sitrep now, we--"

Cursing at the distraction, Sophia flicked the off switch on the earbud with her finger. She was NOT going to miss this shot because Captain Meatwall decided to yammer about protocol in her ear.

Shadow Stalker could. Not. Believe. Her. Luck. She'd gotten to the combat zone, and Lung (as usual) was tearing up the street with one of his tantrums. And it wasn't hard to figure out why; right there on the next roof over were the Undersiders, lying flat on the roof and trying NOT to look interesting. Had those losers actually tried to pull something on Lung? Well, judging by the mess he was making of the immediate vicinity… yes.

Then they'd gone and gotten themselves cornered. Oh, it was too rich.

And there was Grue, lying doggo on the roof with the rest of them, a sitting duck. Apparently he wasn't using his Darkness because it would draw too much attention. She could just imagine spending an hour in her literature class arguing whether it was ironic or not.

Shadow Stalker was one rooftop over, kneeling on the ledge and looking down on them. An easy shot. Slowly, carefully, she pulled out one of her crossbow bolts and unscrewed the tranquilizer tip. Then she pulled out the "lucky medallion" she'd been given for Christmas. It was certainly good for one thing. She pried the back open and pulled out one of the steel arrowheads she'd hidden inside. She screwed the arrowhead on and nocked the bolt in her crossbow.

She lined up the iron sights on the spot between Grue's shoulder blades. Time to put this pain out of her misery. She let her breath out and started to squeeze the trigger---

Beedly breedly beep.

the Undersiders all jolted and turned about to stare in the direction of the ring tone.

"SON OF A MOTHERBUCKING MONKEYSLAPPER!" Sophia snatched up the cellphone where it was lying on the rooftop next to her and threw it with all of her might. She heard it clack against the far building on its way to the pavement, still fricking RINGING-- in desperate frustration she whipped her crossbow and aimed for Grue's chest---

Just as a clawed foot lashed out from nowhere and kicked the crossbow out of her hand. The bolt flew wide, striking the roof several feet from Grue's helmeted head. The next instant Grue shot a cloud of darkness out, blotting the entire roof his team was on from sight.

Swearing and hissing like a scalded cat, Sophia dove and rolled sideways out of the reach of whoever had just disarmed her. She pulled out a collapsible baton as she rolled, snapping it out as she got her feet under her.

Perched on the ledge was another Cape wrapped in a dark cloak. She-- it was clearly female, the way the cloak wrapped around her-- was crouched there, a pair of sai in her hands, leg still extended from the sweep kick. Her leg…was wrong. The padded plates protecting the knee and the leg were the wrong proportions. And the leg ended in a paw, with inch-long splayed talons…

That's when the rest of it registered: the glowing yellow eyes under the hood, the mouthful of gleaming white fangs. A basso profundo growl rumbled across the rooftop.

Shadow Stalker went for her batons even as her hindbrain heard that growl, ran down her spine and kicked her in the bladder and informed her in no uncertain terms that she was not the biggest predator on the rooftops tonight.

Angrily she shoved that visceral response down and snarled back. "Think ya gonna scare me with that big bad wolf routine, bitch?" she sneered.

The she-wolf spoke. "Oh I know you're scared," she said in a rumbling growl that was almost a purr. "I can smell it." She lunged.

She was halfway across the roof and closed the distance in a single leap. Shadow Stalker went intangible instantly and the werewolf passed through her. Sophia spun about, ready to deliver a strike at the other Cape's unprotected back-- only to see her disappear in a burst of indigo smoke. Then suddenly someone was behind her again, she lunged forward just in time to blunt a punch to her kidneys.

Then it all dissolved into a flurry of kicks and strikes and smoke passing through smoke, and Shadow Stalker was very, very preoccupied with her own little issues.

"--You got to get down off this roof, idiot!" the quadcopter screeched at Grue. "Shadow Stalker is up there and Hemlokk may be keeping her occupied, but right now you guys are sitting ducks!"

Grue had pulled a curtain of darkness over his team like a tent, blocking them from the view of whoever shot that crossbow bolt. Whoever? Don't kid yourself, Brian, that was Shadow Stalker, Grue thought. The PRT's pet pedigree psychopath.

Surprisingly the quadcopter hadn't been disconnected from whatever broadcasting tower was controlling it by the cloud, and Aisha had been yelling at him through it nonstop. "Will you shut up? You're going to draw fire!" he snarled.

"Like Kid Win or Gallant or some other hero isn't going to strafe the big Dark Cloud of Darkness the minute they notice it!" Aisha shot back. "You gotta get down off this roof and down to the street!"

"And down into THAT?" Regent yelped, pointing at the raging firefight below.

"Bayleaf-- Skinwalker-- says you all got to be together before he can get everyone out!" Aisha said. "And that means down there with the rest of 'em."

"And where IS this great and wonderful Skinwalker who's going to save all our butts?" Tattletale spat sarcastically.

THOOM. THOOM THOOM THOOMTHOOMTHOOM. Suddenly a half-dozen bolts of Moonfire fell out of the sky, riveting Lung in place and lighting up the five-way like day. Aisha's voice couldn't have sounded more smug. "He just arrived."

Falling out of the night sky in a Stukka dive came an enormous horned owl. It shrieked and pulled up at the last second, transforming into a robed and hooded wolfman who landed on all fours next to Shen. Bayleaf hit the ground moving; he hadn't even stood erect before he was lashing out at Lung with entangling vine spells. The vines burned to ash in seconds; Lung shook them off and charged.

Bayleaf waved his hand again; a trio, then a sextet of Treants burst out of the ground and tackled Lung in mid stride. They slowed him, but were swiftly immolated. Lung leapt forward, flinging pieces of burning treant in every direction. It was just enough time; Bayleaf grabbed Shen under the arms and used Displacer Beast to fling himself and the pandaren out of his path. Lung plowed into the building that had been behind them, bringing brick and concrete raining down on his own head.

Up on the roof, the Undersiders were still arguing with one another and Aisha about what do to. All except Tattletale. Her Power was nothing less than Sherlock Holmes in a bottle-- the capacity for deductive and inductive reasoning on a superhuman scale. She could put together entire portfolios of information from a single threadbare clue, or read someone's life backstory from a few microexpressions. Right now she was trying to follow both the battle in the streets and the deadly duel in the rooftops at the same time and pushing her Power and her own brain as hard and fast as she ever had.

Multiple power sets. Disparate abilities.

Disparate yet similar or possibly identical sources. Mass Trigger?

She caught a glimpse of Hemlokk and Shadow Stalker dancing around each other, clouds of intangible shadow and bursts of occluding smoke. She watched as the Skinwalker blinked from one place to another; as the blonde elf suddenly did the same to evade a random fireball.

Hemlokk capable of teleportation.

Bayleaf aka Skinwalker capable of teleportation.

Elf, capable of--

Most or all members of new category Cape, capable of some form of teleportation…

"Grue, we have to get down there and help!"

She could almost see Regent's eyes bugging out through his harlequin mask. "Are you insane? For WHAT?"

"To save our ride out of here, and I don't mean Bitch's dogs!"

Before she could explain further, the rooftop became crowded by one more person. Grue had let his Darkness slip in the heat of the argument, and someone else had seen an opening. A figure in a ninja shozoku and wearing a red demon mask appeared on the rooftop next to MeiMei, sword drawn for a killing blow.

He wasn't quite fast enough; before the blade came down Hemlokk saw him. Instantly she broke off from Shadow Stalker, disappearing in a huge blast of smoke that left her opponent choking. She reappeared behind Oni Lee in a burst of purple smoke and drove both her sai straight into his back. He crumbled to dust just as a new Oni Lee appeared directly behind her-- only to have her disappear and reappear directly behind him--

"Come on, it's either down there with Lung or up here with Kung Fu Splodeydope!" Tattletale yelled. As if to punctuate her statement one of Oni Lee's clones went up in an explosion. It seemed he'd remembered the bombs on his bandolier.

Grue made the call. "Rachel, time to saddle up!" Bitch got her dogs up; the others all but climbed over each other mounting up.

MeiMei looked to object. "But my powers are still-- Ah @#$ it--" the panda girl began slapping scrolls onto everyone, even the dogs. Strength, agility, defense, dodge, whatever she had.

Regent looked at the one slapped to his ruffled renfaire shirt in confusion. "A naked geisha?"

"GIVE me that-!" She yanked it away and hit him with the strongest dexterity scroll she had left. She scrambled up on the dog-monster's back. "Okay, let's do this, Charge of the Light Brigade, let's go!"

"Isn't that the one where they all Diiiiiieeeeed--!!!" Regent got out as they plunged over the side of the building in a boiling cloud of black.

When she was a little girl, Taylor had owned two or three different little pegboard games. Some were triangle shaped, others shaped like big crosses or squares, but the play idea was the same for all of them: you jumped the pegs over each other, checkers-style, till only one peg was left. Now as Hemlokk she couldn't help feeling like was in the middle of the biggest, most dangerous game of pegboard-hop of her life. There were only two pegs, and the game was only going to end when one of them hopped wrong and was deleted-- suddenly, loudly and violently.

She was lightning fast. She had powers and abilities he had probably never thought of. But he had years of experience as an assassin, saboteur and living paradox-- a serial suicide bomber. She was barely one split second ahead of his blasts, each one catching her on the very edge as she teleported, rattling her bones and making her ears ring, while every kick, sai strike or raking claw came away with nothing but a cloud of clone-dust. They were popping back and forth from rooftop to rooftop, spreading dust, smoke and fire everywhere, and she was running out of places to maneuver.

She ninja-vanished, crouching invisible in the clouds of smoke and dust, trying to catch her breath. Oni Lee appeared next to her, facing the other way, finger through the trigger of his bomb-belt. Then another, then another and another-- in half a breath half a dozen Oni Lee clones were scattered over the roof. It looked like he was going to go for spamming the area as fast as he could and try to catch her in the area blast.

Her teleportation ability, unfortunately, had one current limitation: she could only teleport to a place directly behind another person… a deadly advantage if you needed to get in a backstab. A deadly flaw if you needed to get as far away from everyone as possible. She looked around frantically, trying to figure out where the one real and therefore safe to teleport to Oni Lee was.

Smeerp. Smeerp. Smeerp. Smeerp. Smeerp. Smeerp.

A green ray lanced down, striking the clones one after the other. All six of the Oni Lees surrounding her suddenly shrank to one tenth their height. They went off like a string of firecrackers, barely stinging her ankles with bits of gravel. Hemlokk looked up; hovering overhead was Aegis, carrying Vista in his arms. The youngest Ward blew some imaginary smoke off the barrel of her shrink ray and gave Hemlokk a fist pump. On the next roof over she could see the real Oni Lee, frozen in midleap. Clockblocker was there, hopping onto the roof off what appeared to be… a staircase of time-frozen paper sheets? Clever. He'd obviously nailed the teleporting bomber with a time freeze ray just as he'd reappeared. He was calmly putting a black bag over the time-stopped villain's head (line of sight teleporting, ah hah) and liberally applying containment foam from an extruder that looked rather like a chrome super-soaker. The stuff was designed to stop Brutes like Lung; even a few spritzes around the hands and feet would restrain a baseline-strength human like Oni Lee.

She returned Vista's fist-pump and, with a quick glance down into the chaos below, teleported down to Bayleaf just as Grue's smoke closed over everything.

Shadow Stalker and Hemlokk were all over the roof. She hated to admit it, and she was starting to feel a little fear. This were-bitch was fast, and judging from the damage she was doing to the surroundings scary strong. Up till now Sophia had never had much trouble with hand-to-hand combat unless she was forced to do it unpowered. With her shadow-form she was all-attack; she could strike, phase out, then strike again without having to pause to parry or give ground dodging. But this new Cape was just as aggressive and at least half a step faster, landing one or two grazing blows in the eyeblink it took for Sophia to phase out. And she was even harder to hit than Sophia was herself, teleporting and reappearing BEHIND her over and over-- it was infuriating! She even briefly went into some half-shadowy state at one point, suddenly making all Sophias strikes and blows a fraction as effective.

Then she'd jerked her head to one side, said "I'll deal with you later--" and teleported away. Like Sophia was nothing but an annoyance, a distraction!

Seething with rage at the insult, Sophia cast around, looking either for the wolf-bitch or her crossbow. Lucky day, it hadn't fallen off the roof. She snatched it up, loading and cocking it as she swept for her target-- who was going toe-to-toe with Oni Lee, now. The two of them were popping in and out all over the place, neither one quite able to land a blow on each other, but still tearing it up like two bobcats in a burlap bag. Even if they'd been in range she'd never have a chance of getting off a shot at either of them.

And now Grue's screw-you-up smoke was wafting all over the place, making it a minefield for her personally. Sophia screamed in frustration and put this new wolf-cape bitch at the absolute TOP of her list. Number one with a BULLET. Snarling, she pulled out her grapnel gun and shot a line for a parapet that would pull her outside the smoke and Darkness filled perimeter. It was way past time she upgraded her own gear. Starting with a better weapon. Preferably something more rapid fire than a freaking crossbow…

Bitch's dogs hit the street, and the Undersiders bailed off, rolling to disperse their momentum. A whistled command from Bitch and all three monster dogs went for Lung. They must have been revitalized by MeiMei's scrolls because they hit like three runaway garbage trucks, biting and tearing.

In an instant Grue was on his feet, casting a roof of Darkness high overhead. He was taking no chances on Shadow Stalker taking a free shot at anyone on his team.

And, unfortunately and not to his knowledge, cutting off Clockblocker and Vista from getting a shot at Lung.

Regent was next to get to his feet. He was bowed over, hands on knees, but he pointed his jester's baton at Lung just as the raging cape flung Bitch's dogs away. Inexplicably Lung began punching himself in the face.

"Stop hitting yourself, Lung, Stop hitting yourself, Lung, stop hitting yourself," Regent chanted in a singsong, waving the jester's staff back and forth.

Unfortunately Lung didn't need his hands free to spew flame. Shen barely snatched Regent out of the way in time, grabbing him as he did a Flying Dragon kick across the makeshift arena.

"Can't you do anything?" MeiMei shouted at Tattletale. The girl HAD to have some sort of secret extra power up her sleeve, right?

Even as she spoke, Tattletale had her pistol out and was popping shots at Lung, hoping to hit a vulnerable spot. "I'm a Thinker," She shouted as she tried to circle strafe. "Whaddya want me to do, ANALYZE him to death? Hey LUNG, WERE YOU TWELVE OR THIRTEEN WHEN YOU QUIT WETTING THE BED?"

Lungs head snapped around, his eyes bulging with rage. He ripped a flaming chunk out of the street and flung it overhand at the purple-clad girl. It went high, smashing against a distant building. "Holy crap, she shoots, she scores," Tattletale muttered in surprise. "I was just guessing. Yeek!" She was suddenly very busy dodging a barrage of flaming asphalt.

MeiMei was weeping in frustration. Just two weeks ago, not even that, she could have ripped up a chunk of building or sidewalk the size of a city bus or even a city bus itself, a half-dozen buses, she could have fought… instead she was just a prize for other people to fight over, the stupid freaking damsel in distress--

"Move, dammit," she screamed at the stone underneath her, pounding her furry fists on the cracked pavement. "MOVE!!"

The stone answered.

She felt it before she saw it; she fell backwards as the pavement crumbled, was shoved up and aside by something below coming up. A huge mass of solid granite heaved up through the pavement like a grumpy titan rising from the blankets of its bed. It had a chest as wide as the cab of a garbage truck, arms and fists made of clustered boulders, and an almost ludicrously tiny head with glowing coals for eyes. Its torso ended in a pile of loose stones the size of truck tires that rolled over and under each other constantly. It looked down on her with those glowing eyes.

{WHAT DO?}

It wanted orders. She pointed at Lung. "Hit him," she said. "Lots." The Earth Elemental (where did that name come from?) smacked one massive fist in the other, somehow giving her the impression of an eager grin, and rumbled off to obey. The sound of granite boulders pounding scaled flesh soon punctuated the roars and bellows and smashings.

"I..." hominahominahomina. Words filled her head as another crack in her fractured memory healed itself. That's an Earth Elemental. Temporarily animated earth and stone, given a crude sapience templated off rudimentary parts of my own mind. It's only one kind of Elemental at my disposal.

Only one kind.

She looked over at a nearby fire hydrant. She gestured. It ruptured, spewing water into the air. Another gesture and the water had gathered in a crude humanoid shape, halfway between man and water spout, with glowing eyes shining through the glassy head. "Attack!" She pointed at Lung; it began flinging barrelfuls of water at him, dousing the flames and raising clouds of steam…

I'm MORE than I was. I command the primal, destructive forces of nature. Lightning, earthquakes and eruptions. Earth, water, FIRE--

Another dance of her hands overhead and the flames from the smouldering buildings, ruined vehicles, the flaming asphalt were swept together and an Elemental of flame stood to accept her command.

I am a SHAMAN.

A pointed finger-- one accompanied by a sizzling lightning bolt that struck the struggling Lung-- and the Fire Elemental fell on him, swirling around him, blinding and disorienting him. "EAT IT, LUNG!" She screamed.

Everyone began raining absolute hell on the enemy. Moonfire, Sunfire, Jade Lightning, ordinary lightning, blasts of raw fear and despair, arcane lances and bolts and eruptions, time-slowing effects, hammers of flaming light, uncontrolled muscle spasms, shurikens drenched in Darkness, everything they had. For a moment it looked like it was working.

Then Lung SURGED. He swelled, doubling in height in a single rush, muscle forming on top of muscle, and a massive barbed tail extending behind him, lashing the air. Skeletal limbs ripped free of his back, forming the beginning of wings…

"Aw crap," Bayleaf said for them all.

"Everyone, hold him for just a second!" the elf wizard suddenly screamed. He stepped forward waving his staff in an incredibly complex pattern. Pressing their luck, the others did their best to oblige; the Elementals grappled with Lung's arms; already-shriveling vines wound his legs, Regent fought with him for control of his own limbs. The Earth Elemental crumbled; the fire and water Elementals evaporated, the vines burned away. One second… two…

"Valanor Shadath!" Shar'Din shouted, pointing his staff at Lung. There was a rippling flash of something…

"BAAAA!" Lung raged.

The battlefield fell eerily silent as everyone present stared at Lung, leader of the ABB, ruler of the Asian quarter of Brockton Bay… and world's angriest sheep.

"You turned him into a sheep," Grue said in a monotone.

"Uhh, yeah?" Shar'Din said.

"A sheep," Regent said, dumbfounded.

The sentiment seemed universal. Even Bitch's dogs looked confused, staring at the woolly Lung with their heads cocked at odd angles. It was understandable; it wasn't often you saw a sheep behaving the way Lung was. He the size of a largish dog, covered in dirty white wool, and was baa-ing and bawling like only a psychotically enraged ungulate can. He shook his head and made abortive ramming charges at one person or the other. His behavior only became more deranged as people began to laugh.

"Uh, guys," Shar'Din said in growing alarm. "I don't know how long it'll be till it wears off--!"

Swearing, Tattletale took aim with her pistol and prepared to put Lung out of everyone's misery, but before she could take the shot, with a flash of octarine light the spell broke--

Leaving a very naked, very confused, and very human Lung kneeling in the middle of the ruins of the street.

Fortunately not everyone was slow on the draw. Before Lung could do anything but blink, Hemlokk appeared behind him and cracked him across the base of his skull with a magically-infused blackjack.

When Lung next came to, he was lying on his stomach, gagged, hogtied, and fitted out with a very familiar restraining collar: one made of titanium steel and lined with explosive-driven darts loaded with tinker tranquilizers. It had been made by Armsmaster for him years ago; this was the third time he'd had the pleasure of wearing it. Surrounding him were the PRT, the Wards, and Capes who had fought him to a standstill; right in front of him knelt the wolf-man wretch. "Before you think of trying anything, Lung," he said, "I think you really really ought to know that a WHOLE lotta things just changed.

"How we took you down… you remember that just now don't you Lung? Wasn't that interesting? Oh, not the sheep part; that was just hilarious." Lung snarled silently. He would avenge this unbelievable insult. "Oh, oh oh, don't get all testy with me, hún dàn," Bayleaf said warningly. "The interesting part was how you were oh so ramped up-- and then we changed you back. That's right, you BUN tyen-shung duh ee-DWAY-RO ," he said as Lungs eyes went wide with understanding. "we have an INSTANT RESET BUTTON FOR YOU now.

"Oh, and in case you get the idea that only Shar'Din can do it…" he gestured behind him. Lung looked up. There stood that Lǜ Chá Biào, the panda girl. She was smirking like the devil himself. Past her stood the little ponce that ran with the Undersiders, with the tights and the blousy shirt and harlequin mask.

"Do I gotta do this?" Regent whined.

"Yes, shuddup," MeiMei said. She waved her hand at him. There was a flash of impossibly-colored light and where Regent once stood was a bullfrog. Tattletale scooped him up for safekeeping. Regent croaked disconsolately.

" So you see, Lung-- or would that be YANG--" Lung snarled at hearing himself called a sheep-- " if you try anything stupid... like say, coming after the delightful miss MeiMei... you will have a very very SHORT career eating flies. That is, before she puts on her frog-stomping boots and goes to town." He blew a raspberry and made a stomping motion. Lung flinched; message received.

"In fact, if you throw another one of your famous temper tantrums anywhere, one of us will show up, polymorph your stupid ass, and let whoever you were annoying rip your all too human head off your all too human shoulders." He paused thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, I think we could whip up a Lung-to-Frog ray just for the PRT… ahh, such a to-do list. Anyway, it's going to be real important to behave yourself from now on, I think." He patted Lung on the cheek and got to his feet. "Come on, guys, it's time to go." He stepped away with the others; the PRT men waiting just out of view poured in and prepared to haul the humbled Lung away.

The Wards and the PRT were all over the area, throwing up barricades and trying to look authoritative. The Undersiders and the Warcrafted were all clustering together, more or less, exchanging awkward looks and halting words. Glory Girl was in there, radiating good feelings-- darn it, Bayleaf was going to have to check that tiara for leaks. Oh well, at least it served a good purpose at the moment; namely keeping anyone from getting skittish and bolting. He made a "rally up" gesture with an upraised hand. "Okay, guys, we've all got a lot of stuff to talk about--"

"No foolin'," Shar'Din said, looking over at Shen. Who was staring at MeiMei and the Undersiders, who were staring at everyone else-- except for Rachel, who was too busy tending to her (thankfully shrunk down to normal) dogs.

"--and I really think that things are going to get awkward around here for some of us real soon," Bayleaf said meaningfully. "So if you'll all gather in, we..."

"Hold on right there," Aegis said, floating over to where they were gathered. "You guys, I'm afraid that you can't leave yet."

"You gonna try and stop us?" Rachel growled, standing next to her dogs. They growled and for a moment started growing-- only to shrink back down when Grue put a hand on her arm and shook his head.

"As leader of the Wards," Aegis said, looking regretful, "a member of the PRT and currently the most senior representative of the Protectorate present, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come with us to PRT headquarters to--"

"Yabba yabba yabba official talky talky," the recently re-humanized Regent said. He looked to the Skinwalker. "You were saying about someplace to go? Preferably, immediately?"

Bayleaf nodded. "You coming, GG?"

"I--" she started to say something, then blanched as she looked to the horizon. Several glowing streaks of light could be seen in the sky, closing fast; the rest of New Wave. "Oh poop, the 'rents-- I'm with you, Bayleaf, just hurry!"

"You got it. Grue, can you give us a little privacy?" Before Bayleaf even finished speaking the helmeted boy nodded. A swirling dome of vanta black covered the group. "Shar'Din, we need a mass teleport, like, yesterday."

"But-- where??" Shar'Din said.

Bayleaf fished his hearthstone out of his haversack and threw it to him. Shar'Din fumbled but caught it. "Use that to home in on where to go!" he said, mentally crossing his fingers.

"Yeah… oh yeah! Okay, everyone get in close together!" Shar'Din gripped the stone and his staff in one hand and began waving the other in a complicated pattern.

"Cast faster, Elf boy," Grue said. He could see the PRT and the Wards gathering their courage to plunge into the cloud he'd summoned.

Leaf-green light began spiraling around them. They all pulled together as the air began to hum in a rising note, everyone grabbing a hand or a sleeve or a dog collar. With a final crescendo, they disappeared in a flash of light, leaving behind a dissipating cloud of Dark and a very confused and upset crowd of PRT.

Bayleaf's secret base had once been a metal shop for working on train engines, so despite all the different projects Bayleaf had going back at base, there was still quite a bit of open space in the workshop floor. This was a fortunate thing. With a flash of light, the entire mob-- the Undersiders, the Warcrafted, even the dogs-- appeared in midair and fell to the floor with a rather loud crash.

" Owugh! My back!"

"Get your shield out of my crotch!"

"Sorry--"

"--My dogs better not be hurt--"

"They're okay, the pandas broke their fall."

"owfff..."

Bayleaf crawled out from under the pile. He dragged himself up into a sitting position and waited while everyone untangled themselves, then waved a hand to their surroundings.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Lost Workshop.

"Oh, and welcome to the Alliance."

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