Monday— April 18th, 2011.
CONFLICT DRIVEN?
3:00 PM.
How dare he!? How dare he leave her here? She was worried over Peter, but for him to simply shrug her like that? What? Kill Lung? The fucker deserved it! It wasn’t like Lung did die, considering he ramped up the second time while in containment.
Calm down, Taylor. This wasn’t you. This was all your emotions!
“Let’s rendezvous with New Wave and see from there what we can do,” she told Grue and Bitch, and then they moved on. “Though we are most likely not to find anything there, especially if Oni Lee had accomplished his objective.”
Even if Oni Lee failed, chances were, he had retreated… Teleporters were as fast to attack as to retreat. Taylor was annoyed Peter was sending her to this… Again, her emotions began to cloud her mind, and she hated that.
Taylor didn’t know why, but she wanted to hit something.
Monday— April 18th, 2011.
CONFLICT DRIVEN.
3:10 PM.
No matter how tempted he was to reconvene with Armsmaster and the rest of the Protectorate, Peter decided to do the right thing— to work immediately on Armsmaster’s request for backup.
The ABB’s efforts to harass what was left of the Protectorate were commendable, showing determination in the form of numbers. It was basically an army of ABB thugs with guns and bombs at this point.
It was no wonder the PRT was strapped with resources as PRT troopers from left and right were forming barricades and deterring any ABB contingent. It was fucking war with gun-powdered weapons and foam guns. Fucking freaking foam guns!
For the next 35 minutes, Peter proceeded to web up ABB forces that were harassing the med camp that the Protectorate had set up. There were no signs of Lung, and even after Peter had done patrols over the radius of 6.5 kilometers, he still had nothing… The best result he had was being able to scare the ABB thugs and possibly their conscripts. He was not equipped to deal with them in full force. It helped that Dauntless could still fight.
After the excruciating 25 minutes of engaging none-powered ABB, Peter swung on where he last fought Lung with the Protectorate. His mind turned to the Wards, so Karen provided him with info about their recent sightings. The Wards appeared to have come to a cross-fire with Oni Lee… No signs of Taylor’s group. Peter pinged his location to Taylor, and she pinged back. Taylor was far away from where the Wards were fighting Oni Lee.
‘Engaging ABB bank robbers,’ Taylor informed him via text message, ‘We also stopped minor burglary and theft-related crimes. It was all ABB-relative. We also engaged a few conscripts. How are you?’
‘Doing just fine, no Lung encounter, coming to check in with the Protectorate.’ Peter replied.
Peter landed softly on the ground and walked like a normal person to where they fought Lung. Now that he was getting a good look at it, he realized how cornered the Protectorate must have been. The ramp-up bomb that Bakuda used must have been very destructive and so esoteric it didn’t kill Lung.
“…We shouldn’t have left until we have ensured Lung was contained a hundred percent…” He blamed himself. The Undersiders had handled Bakuda admirably. Maybe if he and Taylor remained, they would have done something.
“Incorrect,” coldly advocated Karen, “You wouldn’t have helped at all. It was futile. It was a trap all along perhaps catered to stress-test Bakuda’s new technology that was used on Lung. Even if you were here, it would have done nothing, but only endanger yourself.”
It was total destruction. The containment unit that Armsmaster used was reduced to splinters. The ground looked like melted lava, and worse of all… was the crater that only Lung could have left. It was pitch black and covered roughly 400 meters. A scan of the 900-meter radius showed that there had been devastating explosions everywhere.
Karen helpfully provided, “Signs of pre-installed bombs were used. Stealth technology was incorporated with the bombs. Zero signs of Lung. Suggestion: change objectives and re-strategize.” She was putting importance about the ‘facts’ so that Peter wouldn’t think too much about it, and perhaps in another attempt to distract him, she continued, “Mapping the med camp. Suggestion: head 22 meters to your left and ask for directions. Most side-personnel are gathering by the cafeteria.”
“Thanks, Karen,” Peter intoned to his helm, while he walked to the cafeteria. “Armsmaster? Hey, can anyone point me where is Armsmaster?”
“Here, let me help you,” called by a medic who saw Peter.
A medic led Peter around the chaotic scene, guiding him towards the makeshift medical camp. As he approached, Peter noticed the frenzied activity of the medical personnel attending to the injured. He scanned the area, searching for any sign of Armsmaster amidst the chaos.
It was rough and this spoke of how much dangers the capes of this world had to go through, no wonder there were so few of them. It was a bitter thought, but Peter imagined this world’s capes to be inferior if compared to the ones he knew back home. Of course, he wouldn’t admit it, but bias does exist.
He passed by the grieving Assault, and he couldn’t bring himself to talk to him.
Finally, his gaze landed on Armsmaster, and Peter's heart sank. Armsmaster stood stoically, his usual air of confidence replaced by a grim determination. But what caught Peter's attention the most was the absence of Armsmaster's left arm. The hero's typically pristine armor was now marred by the battle's aftermath, and Lung sure didn’t hold back after his second ramp-up.
A bomb that could ramp up was unheard of, but more so was Peter’s coming to this world. So it was stupid for him to assume how things worked in this world. The mechanics of how superpowers worked in this world left a strong impression on him. It was a fact that he wouldn’t be able to anticipate everything.
Peter was getting more and more distant from the world he knew as more conflicts pressed on him from all sides. It almost felt unnatural, and he hated thinking that his coming here should not have happened. His death to Thanos had brought him to this world for what? Was it a second chance in life?
Hardly… He was hard-pressed to make a difference in this world, and he was so close to just stop holding back. Taylor losing control was making him want to do the same, and he was beginning to fantasize many different ways how to destroy other parahumans.
Peter approached Armsmaster cautiously, his mind racing with questions. "Armsmaster?" he called out, his voice tinged with concern. "Are you alright?"
“Are you alright? You look just as bad,” he replied while bringing himself to a slow walk.
Peter looked at himself, he had lost a good chunk of his armor so much worse than when he first confronted Lung… If Lung was a combination of the Hulk and an Extremist terrorist, then Bakuda was an asylum escapee with magic bombs in her pocket.
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Peter reinforced the fact by standing straighter and flexing his muscles. Though he was still wearing a dorky shirt, it didn’t diminish his form one bit. “But you? That’s a nasty wound… er… injury… sir…” He added the ‘sir’ uncomfortably, as he was not comfortable yet around Armsmaster.
Armsmaster turned to face Peter, his expression unreadable behind his helmet. "I'll manage," he replied tersely, his voice betraying none of the pain he must have been feeling. "But Lung... he's still out there. We need to find him before he regenerates and strikes again. The bastard escaped… He had a second form now, one where he could keep his intelligence and not lose on the rage."
“He might had a second trigger which would be annoying,” interjected a pale-skinned woman with black hair, who wears a black suit over a white dress shirt, a black tie snugly fitted within, and a fedora. “Please call me Contessa, I’ve come here as a consultant but it appears I wouldn’t be needed here… Still, it is my pleasure to meet you.”
Peter’s danger sense was warning him to be careful about this woman, Contessa was bad news, but he didn’t need to show overt panic. “Pleasure is mine,” he offers a handshake and Contessa reciprocates.
“Now, I must go,” Contessa smiled, “I will leave you to your devices, Armsmaster.”
Peter and Armsmaster were quiet as they watched Contessa go.
Five seconds later.
“Who the hell is that? She looks important…” Peter directed his question to Armsmaster.
Armsmaster simply shook his head, “I don’t know, just don’t pay any mind to her… Peter, can I call you that? Of course, you can decline…”
“It is fine,” Peter felt his stomach churn at being reminded of his and Taylor’s civilian identity being revealed to the world, but there were more important problems. “Just so you know, you won’t be able to guilt-trip me. If you are going to pitch in a recruitment spiel, then don’t.”
“I understand,” If Armsmaster was lying, Peter wouldn’t be able to tell.
“I am sorry, I am not in the right headspace… This world is fucked up…” Peter hadn’t confronted his biggest villains yet… The one that would make him churn and lose his mind. No offense to Mr. Toomes, but for a villain, the Vulture was kind of still PG-13. “I just saw a boy today explode and die in my suit.”
“I… see…” softly whispered Armsmaster.
“Being a hero meant seeing things and living with it… You are young, you can still grow… For now, the only thing you could do was to be better.” Armsmaster's words hung heavy in the air as Peter absorbed them, feeling the weight of every syllable. Being a hero wasn't just about saving lives; it was about witnessing the darker side of humanity and finding the strength to carry on despite it all.
"I'll do my best," Peter replied, his voice tinged with determination. He knew he couldn't change the world overnight, but he could strive to make a difference, one step at a time. "Thank you, Armsmaster. I needed to hear that."
“Good,” Armsmaster nodded in acknowledgment, his expression softening imperceptibly behind his helmet. "The PRT, Protectorate, and the Wards will be behind you. And no, this isn’t a recruitment pitch though we would love to have you in the Wards. They would benefit greatly from someone like you."
Sigh…
“No, I will be fine…” Peter shook his head, he was uncomfortable with the idea, but he couldn’t properly point out what was his problem either. “Your words did remind me of my mentor,” he added, his hands working on a web shooter he reshaped to a smartwatch checking on Taylor’s last location.
"The one who made your suit? It is a pity it is destroyed again," Armsmaster remarked, his tone tinged with sympathy as he surveyed the remnants of Peter's armor.
"Yeah," Peter sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "It's a tough break. But hey, at least I've got the skills to rebuild it, right?" Plus lots of help from Karen, everyone’s lovable AI.
Armsmaster nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Resourcefulness is a valuable trait for any hero to possess."
Peter glanced down at his damaged suit, mentally cataloging the repairs that would be needed. "I'll have to make some active upgrades this time around. Maybe build a fabricator for a start… Can't let Bakuda's bombs catch me off guard again."
“I’ll be on my way, still had paperwork to deal with. You should rest. You need to be at your peak when the ABB capes appear again.” Armsmaster bid his goodbye and turned around.
As Armsmaster walked away, Peter nodded at him and swung away, his thoughts consumed by Taylor and the rest of the Undersiders. He knew he had to reconvene with them one last time for the day.
Peter swung through the city, dodging between buildings with practiced ease.
Touching down softly on the rooftop, Peter scanned the horizon, searching for any place that could use some of his help. It was still too early to rest. He fiddled his helm at the earpiece part and connected with Taylor. He felt guilty for snubbing her, and it got the best of him.
Now that he cooled down, he realized he could have done better back then.
"Hey," he casually greeted Taylor. "How's everyone holding up?"
Since he was not at a combat situation, he had the leeway to access the holo-interface and interact with the spider drone in Taylor’s side. A hologram of Taylor hovered beside Peter with a half-body.
Simultaneously, Peter’s hologram must be similarly floating on the other side.
"We're hanging in there," she replied, her voice steady despite the weariness that lingered in her eyes. "But we need to regroup and come up with a plan… and a timeline. The ABB won't stay quiet for long. And I think our stamina wouldn’t be able to catch up with how fast this was going."
Peter nodded in agreement, his mind already spinning with possibilities. “Okay, meet me at my base… The Spider Lair will be our base of operations from now on. I will pick up Tattletale and Regent.”
“Copy that,” Taylor replied, her hologram flickering to nothingness.
