Amalgamate 2: It's Already Over (Patreon)

Amalgamate

Chapter 2: It’s Already Over

-VB-

An unmitigated disaster.

It took all of the meager achievements of the PRT and Protectorate ENE, and tossed them into a flaming trash bin, because that was how the rest of the nation and their mother organization saw it.

Even for Brockton Bay, the death of nearly two hundred people - nevermind the fact that they were Nazis - and the discovery that a new Galstig Uaine roamed the streets of Brockton Bay was too much for anyone to ignore.

Rory Christened knew that much, even if 9his superiors and parents did not want to burden him with the details.

The Empire Eighty-Eight was finished in its current incarnation; the line of Allfather had broken along with the death of Kaiser and his most powerful capes. Perhaps the Empire might have continued if the remaining half of the Empire's roster did not turn up dead while Night and Fog disappeared. Only Crusader and Alabaster were left, and without their heavy hitters to keep them alive, they were unlikely to hold down the fort for long.

The Protectorate ENE didn't lose anyone, but the loss had taken a steep hill on everyone's morale. Armsmaster looked like a dead man walking, Miss Militia limped around with casts on her arm and leg, Dauntless nearly died, Battery was in critical condition, and Assault fumed silently.

The same could not be said for PRT ENE. Over the course of an hour, they lost seven officers and twenty more laid in the hospital in varying levels of damage. Three armored vans needed to be scrapped, and three more needed significant repairs.

And then there were troubles at home…

"Rory," dad - Mayor Roy Christener - called his name after inviting him into his home office. "Be level with me, son. Can the PRT handle Argyoschani before he becomes a bigger threat?"

Right, that Latin(Greek?) name was Steelsilver's preferred cape name.

Rory grimaced. "I … dont know."

"Does the ENE have plans to handle Argyoschani?"

"We are still recovering from the fight."

"You mean the one sided beat down."

"Dad-"

"You can complain, but you know that that's what it was. We're just lucky even more people did not die."

Rory bit his cheeks. As much as he wanted to object, dad didn't say anything wrong.

"How are the Protectorate?" dad asked softly after a while.

"Upset and hurt."

"And the director?"

He winced. "Furious."

"Anything you can tell me?"

"... Argyoschani may be a power collecting Trump. If it is true, then we might have a A-ranked crisis waiting to blow in the city. He may also be a cloning Master." And hadn’t that been a shock. Grab-bags were supposed to be powerful but … this powerful?

Dad let his head drop into his awaiting hands. "Just … great."

-VB-

When Rodney Charleston smashed into the abandoned house allegedly used by the new Tinker villain as one of his workshops, he found those allegations to be true upon seeing a thousand and one scrap metals lying haphazardly about.

Gears, pipes, wood, sheet metal, you name it, and it was here.

He and his PRT squad cautiously moved about, unwilling to set off any kind of traps that might exist.

"Sarge, this looks like Armsmaster's motorcycle."

Rodney turned to his right, where the house's living room was, and saw Corporal Nathopoli staring down at a gutted blue vehicle twice as big as he was.

He took in the blue paint, seamlessly incorporated electronics fit so tightly packed into the visible areas that have yet yo be gutted, and concluded that yes, it had to be Armsmaster's motorcycle.

"Don't touch it. We don't know if that asshole rigged it to blow or not."

"Yes, sarge."

Rodney continued his slow methodical survey of the abandoned house.

He stepped once and then twice.

He found what he was looking for.

"Alright. Let us call in the Tinkertech removal teams. No need to stay where there might be a bomb."

His squad hurried out, but he lingered just so he could crouch down and scoop up a coil.

A very profitable coil.

-VB-

"FUCK!"

Grue shouted in pain before he ducked under the overturned table.

The rapidfire of the submachine guns stopped, and the pounding of boots began.

In this fog of darkness, only he could see, but it didn't mean that they couldn't shoot into it. It had never been a problem until now because most capes did not use guns, and gangsters that did use guns were mauled by Bitch's dogs!

They still couldn't see him, so-

Something came down from above and hit him. He struggled as a blade sunk into his shoulder and he cried out in pain. He looked around and saw … a meat hook?

He looked and saw one of the goddamn Steelsilver minions holding some kind of crank that drew in the rope attached to the meat hook.

And it wasn't one. There were several.

But all of the rest seemed to abandon theirs in favor of helping the one guy who caught him.

"Shit, shit, shit-!" Brian shouted as they drew him in. He kicked and scrapped at the concrete ground, trying to find any purchase-!

And several of them drew their guns and aimed in his general direction.

His breath hitched.

They fired.

-VB-

Only a day after the death of the Empire, bombs detonated in Brockton Bay.

Downtown, Docks, Commercial, Captain's Hill, Beaches, the slums, and even beyond the city.

Bombs, some mundane and other horrifying as Gray Boy loops, went off.

In a single day, Brockton Bay lost a tenth of its population.

Vicky sobbed into her hands. Her shoulders shook with each breath and more.

Eric was just getting up but without an arm, dad was dead, Amy wont wake up, auntie was stuck in a Gray Boy loop, and mom…

Oh God, mom…

Mom stared at the man who had approached them. There was a snarl on her lips before her eyes widened when the man began to glow from his chest.

She turned and pushed - nearly punched - both her and Amy.

Vicky was about to ask why but her own eyes widened before mom and mom disintegrated instantly into ash before her eyes.

"Mom...!" she sobbed as she continued to hold onto mom's costume, ignoring the ash that sifted out from the gaps. "Mom…!"

In the ruins of the street, Vicky cried out her heart.

-VB-

Jack Slash laughed to his heart's content.

It was endless.

Shoddily armored and armed they may be, but Steelsilver, that new cape from Brockton Bay, was endless!

Jack did not know how the villain found him and hid Slaughterhouse Nine, but they did, and the result was this madness of carnage and death.

It didn't matter that Crawler was effectively invulnerable to any of Steelsilver's bullets; the bastard was drowning Crawler in bodies!

Yes, Siberian could kill any single clone with one hit, but she was also their only real protection and couldn't hunt down any of the clones.

If that was not enough, Steelsilver could set up forward operation bases in seconds, complete with automated turrets that tracked down and bullet spray anyone that got too close!

Shatterbird would have been useful if she hadn't been the first to be shot down.

Mannequin might have been more useful, but he died to a tinkertech land mine that turned everything in its explosive radius into steaming water.

Hatchetface was also dead and -.

Jack ducked when his power screamed at him too.

Siberian popped, and the bullet that would have killed him merely flew up and over.

He snapped his head back up and looked around. His eyes widened at the sight of Crawler's still body.

He grabbed Bonesaw, but she was limp. He looked down and grimaced upon seeing her caved forehead.

There was an explosion in the distance.

Siberian didn't come back.

"Ha." A pause. Laughter welled up. "Ha ha ha-!"

There was a Steelsilver clone in front of him now. It held up a single ragged gun, a double barreled shotgun that looked like someone patched it together

"- Ha -!"

BANG

-VB-

"I don't care about the goddamn collateral-!" Emily began but lost the energy to spit the words out angrily. Her entire frame slumped into her office chair. "... How many people did we lose today?"

"Civilian casualties are at ten thousand seven hundred and climbing," Armsmaster said hollowly. "Wounded is at fifty nine thousand and climbing."

"And Panacea?"

"Blunt force trauma induced coma."

"Fuck. Anyone else?"

"Assault and Battery were … on a date when a bomb went off near them. Neither made it."

"Militia? Triumph? Dauntless? Velocity? What about the Wards?!"

"Clockblocker, Vista, and Aegis responded. Shadow Stalker, Kid Win, Browbeat, and Gallant have not. Velocity… h-he is in a Gray Boy loop. M… Hana didn't survive the blast that took out the Salinas Restaurant at the Beaches. Only Triumph and Dauntless are ready for your orders."

"Just … have the console direct the others - including the Wards - to wherever they are needed. As Tinker, I am putting you in charge of the Rig."

"Understood."

When Armsmaster left her office, Emily felt the situation start to settle in.

"Fuck. Fucking hell. This fucking city. Fucking fuck this CITY!" she roared and tossed her neatly piled folders of paperwork off the table with a snapping shove. "What the fuck did we do to deserve this, goddamnit!?"

-VB-

As Brockton Bay suffered through its latest crisis, Cauldron remained focused on the wider picture.

Unfortunately, no more than two weeks after the Bombing of Brockton Bay happened, Steelsilver launched an assault on Scion.

Panic set in all Cauldron inner circle members when they saw this happen through high orbit satellite camera, but instead of Scion killing Steelsilver and starting the apocalypse, Steelsilvers’ attacks - fired from fifteen different clones - pierced and killed Scion in one-go.

They watched even as they gathered capes for the inevitable fight as a portal appeared where Scion used to hover before Steelsilver’s assault, and all of the Steelsilver clones produced spherical bombs and threw them into the portal.

The world shook from the screeching of a dying god on the other side of that portal.

The portal closed.

Steelsilvers all just … vanished to somewhere.

And the apocalypse did not happen.

Was Scion dead?