Vice Bunker 16 (Patreon)

Vice Bunker

Chapter 16

-VB-

The world outside… was doomed.

The last non-satellite internet connection was gone, and considering that the Simurgh liked her space, that meant all internet was gone. Even radio signals were sputtering out as radio towers fell one by one to asteroid strikes.

The furthest place we could contact was now Boston and that was when there was no blizzard.

Yes, blizzards were a thing now in Brockton Bay. Last we heard in our little bunker, only Central Africa, the southern half of India, Central and northern half of South America, and Southeast Asia (but not the northern half of Vietnam, Laos, Burma, and the northern half of Thailand) remained warm. It didn’t mean that the people there were doing great; instead of blizzard storms, they dealt with freak monsoon tornados and hurricanes, random floods, and crop-ruining levels of temperature fluctuations and

Russia and Scandanavia were gone under a literal hundred feet of snow. CUI moved its capital from Beijing to Guangzhou, not that it helped. The difference would have been near death to half dead, which was exactly how many people died in East Asia, Middle East (from starvation rather than the cold), Europe, Australia/New Zealand, and North America.

Yes, half of Americans were dead. If it wasn’t from the meteor strikes not even the “greatest” heroes and villains could stop, then it was from the damages that the natural disaster left behind.

There was only so much food to go around once California and the Midwest became wastelands.

This was about where information comes to a grinding halt because those were the last world news we got before the last radio tower around Brockton Bay went down.

Brockton Bay too was covered in snow but being next to the ocean helped a little. We were only covered in fifteen feet of snow outside of the city. Some of this had to do with meteor tsunamis washing away snow, city, and people alike.

People still came to our city - or at least the surface city - because they heard long time ago that there were bunkers here that may save them.

Unfortunately, most of these bunkers had neither the security nor the defense necessary to ward off people triggering from being unable to locate a bunker or being rejected in front of its entrance.

… Well, there was one “bunker.” It was less of a bunker and more of a fortress of rubble, steel, and whatever else its original builder could find. I watched as it grew like malignant cancer upon the cityscape. The Tinker, who triggered from being rejected entry, was some kind of “frozen rogue world” tech, hauled broken bits of houses, steel plates, and whatever else he could find and managed to put together a small house-like structure. At the core of the structure was a generator that kept the people alive with heat and electricity.

Unfortunately, said technology required fuel. It did not take wood, charcoal, or coal, however. There was a reason there weren’t a lot of people in Brockton Bay, and the “Cannibal Fortress” was that reason. Truly, either the Entities were the most “logical” creatures or the most malevolent ones.

“I hate the snow and the cold and the blizzard and fucking cannibals-” Vicky hissed as she glared out into the distance.

Cannibal Fortress had a few parahumans - there was no such thing as capes anymore - who were capable of breaching bunkers. The head honcho of the CF himself, the self-titled Hot Junk King (who had to be Skidmark’s bastard child with that kind of naming sense), built “bunker busters.” It was a bipedal walker. Well, it was better to call it a bipedal tank.

One such tinkertech cannon was currently aimed at the entrance of my bunker.

My small body was out in the snow with Vicky. Joining us were also Brandish, Lady Photon, Laserdream, and Shielder.

Shielder’s projected shield buckled as he tanked another shot.

“OW!” he hissed as he quickly repaired the cracks on his hardlight forcefield. “Can we do something about them already?!”

“We will. Be patient,” I told him, and the fifteen-year-old teenager grumbled before wincing as another “bunker buster” shot thundered upon his shield.

Outside of the shield and the bunker entrance behind us were the Cannibals, armored and armed much as the Teeth had but with more fur, sewn human leathers, and whatever else they could scrap together. Bones didn’t make for great winter apparel, you know?

I was watching for the Cannibals to close in, thinking that our shield would go down. I wanted as many of them dead in one strike. It was why Shielder’s forcefield “cracked.” Shielder’s shield shattered when he lost control over it. It didn’t “crack.” That crack was him putting on some pattern. That “repair” was him just covering it up.

How did he do this when he never had such ability before?

He doesn’t. There was a reason why Lady Photon was behind him, forming small shields of her own at an angle to make Shielder’s forcefield look like there were cracks on it.

I narrowed my eyes as they began to close in as “cracks” grew bigger and bigger with each iteration.

My tentacle-body writhed as the latest attack struck his shield.

“... Now,” I hissed the moment the explosion obscured us from their sight.

Shielder dropped his forcefield as artillery tubes shot out from underneath my tentacle-writhing spherical body.

And then I opened fire along with Laserdream and Lady Photon.

It was a kill-or-be-killed world.

When the smoke cleared, there were a hundred would-be pillagers… but the Junker was not one of them.

“Where is he?” I bit out before spotting him running away on his bottom-heavy artillery walker.

I shot at him… but he got away.

We didn’t chase after him, because I knew that he had more men and some of them could be waiting to ambush us. If even one of us was knocked out of combat, then rescue would be a bitch and a half.

“Alright, everyone get back in the bunker. I’m gonna sat-bomb the place,” I grunted.

They did.

What I noticed, however, was that as Vicky passed by, I noticed a slight, barely perceptible, rise in her lower belly.

…

Couldn’t be, right? It’s onl-.

It’s been a month and a half.

It very well could be, even though I was a Case-53.

…

All the more reason to level Brockton Bay if it took out those cannibals with it.

I raised my artillery tubes up towards the sky at an angle and opened fire.