Lag 6.11 (Unbeta-ed First Draft) (Patreon)

Lag 6.11

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No. No. No.

His thoughts a scattered mess from irritation, Greg Veder ignored the damage he left behind as he burst off another rooftop, tiles scattered and flying from the force of his takeoff.

Backtracking again! He gritted his teeth, a frustrated anger building up in his chest as he was forced to scout again after meeting another dead end. How in the flying frick are a bunch of white vans this hard to find?

How in the flying frick, indeed?

It had been a good bit over thirty minutes since he had gotten both the call and the alert, the former changing the details of the latter and spurring him into action. Well over twenty since he had met up with Seo and scouted several other locations where the Empire had performed their smash-and-grabs.

At least six of his men were injured, whether from gunshots or other wounds; he hadn’t really bothered to clarify. To make things worse, more than a few innocents needed a hospital, but at the very least that was the worst of it. Thankfully, nobody had been killed, but Greg could only figure that was due to the E88 rushing in their attempts to get the hell out of dodge, rather than any desire to avoid a murder charge.

Fucking Empire! The thought was like a surge of heat in his chest as he bounded off a streetlight. He didn’t need to wonder what they were going to do with the teenagers they kidnapped, and it only made his mood worse. After all, his second-in-command had told him what was likely to happen if they couldn’t be saved.

He wasn’t exactly unaware of the things the gangs did, but Greg had been grim-faced ever since Seo had explained in-depth what gang initiations in Brockton Bay tended to be like. The teenager didn’t miss how quick the smoking gangster had been to go silent after he had asked him about what he knew about the ABB’s initiations on a personal level.

Greg decided to ignore that. For now.

While the man skirted around exactly how he knew what he did, Seo still made sure to give Greg plenty of concrete facts about what the Empire did for initiations as well as how the old ABB had officially invited new members into the group.

Nothing he heard helped his mood.

All of that in mind, Greg knew that every second he wasted was a chance another kid his age wasn’t going to make it to sunrise. So, the blond did what came naturally.

He took to the rooftops.

He raced across the skyline, long red scarf trailing behind him like a comet as he bounded from ledge to ledge, trying to find any trace of the kidnappers before it was too late. He had already rushed over to the third place they were supposed to have hit, Taipei Town already far behind him now.

For the third time in a row, the bastards were gone by the time he had gotten there.

Can’t fucking believe this. He had no idea how fast the Empire had moved. There was no point in wasting time or trying to be subtle, so he didn’t bother in hiding his [Reinforcement] or avoiding any use of the physique-boosting Brute power. Well aware that he had a job to do, he tapped into the wilder poor energy inside of him and poured on the speed, making sure to use only as much as he could maintain without digging too deep.

Even though Greg knew that he wasn’t exactly the shining beacon of gold that he knew White Knight looked like, the teenager was well aware that the glow coming from him was nowhere near discreet against the dark of the night. He also knew that trying to be stealthy would only slow him down, and time was literally running out.

Not for him, but definitely for others.

Hardkour’s figure jumped from rooftop to rooftop, blurring across the skyline for barely a second before he was airborne once more as he bounded from place to place. A yellow glow flickered from behind the eye-slits of an expressionless red face-helm as he scanned the area below with Reinforced eyes, the apex of his leap giving him the perfect chance to do so.

Nghh. At the same time, the young cape did the best he could to ignore the growing spike of pain he felt every single time he forcefully pushed the overeager golden light inside him to enhance something as sensitive as his eyes.

Goddamn it!

A growl burst from his throat, anger not pain forcing the sound from him. Literally can’t believe this. This makes no goddamn sense right now! He had no idea how the Empire could have moved so fast by themselves. From what Seo had told him, no one had seen a single cape among them, only regular two-bit Empire thugs. Thirty minutes and I can’t find a one fricking single va-

His head snapped to the right as his thoughts came to a sudden halt. Wait!

A half-second later, the blond dropped down with knees bent, the roof ledge he landed on cracking slightly as his reinforced body proved superior. Eye-slits flashed gold once more as he reinforced his eyes again. Is that…

It was.

He could see it now, several blocks from him.

A dirty, dented white van — license plates conveniently missing — cut across a parking lot as it made its way toward what looked like a back road. For a vehicle clearly past its prime and not built for any careless driving, the driver seemed to ignore those limitations as they drove recklessly and well above the speed limit on a path that seemed headed toward the Docks.

Gotcha! The blond’s eyes locked on to his target, sure of its location. You’re not getting away from me.

Then he pushed off.

Less than a second later, he burst high above the concrete jungle like a rocket, mana thrumming along with his will as he pulled on his [Aerokinesis] to extend his leap.

It was then that he felt it.

Weak enough that he almost dismissed it as an itch, it pulsed again, and he confirmed the feeling without even having to think about it; the lazy throb of [Danger Sense].

Oh, come on. Not you again. The sensation all-too familiar against the back of his neck, Greg pushed the pulse of forewarning away from his thoughts as he dropped down towards the speeding van, Aerokinesis boosting his speed and keeping him somewhat aloft.

Not now! He frowned to himself, as the sensation buzzed lightly once more.

The Thinker power of his had been oddly sensitive since he had upgraded it last, pulsing off every time he jumped off a particularly high roof or oddly enough, seemingly for no reason at all throughout a normal day. Half the time at Winslow, he felt it buzzing whenever he made eye contact with some random gang kid with anger issues, regardless of race. Just the implication of someone meaning him harm was enough to set the thing off on some level, which was freaking insane. Hell, when it came to even the average thug with a gun, he’d gotten used to the thing buzzing at him over and over, each bullet enough to catch the thing’s attention if it happened to stray too close.

And considering he thought it was pretty fun to cut it close, plenty of heated lead would often go screaming inches from his body. His [Danger Sense] buzzing for every single instance of that was more than a bit of a damper on that fun.

Useful, sure, but still annoying.

In fact, that stupid oversensitivity was the main reason he hadn’t bothered to upgrade it higher than it currently was. If it was this annoying at only six ranks, how bad would it be at ten? His stupid territory warnings were bad enough already. If [Danger Sense] got any worse, he’d never get a single moment of peace. Honestly, he had enough pains in his ass without making the one in his neck a bigger one.

It was for that reason that he ignored the repeat sensations from the moment he launched himself off the rooftop. It buzzed again, pulsing the instant his soles made contact with the ground.

Apart from a slight wince at the reminder of possible danger, Hardkour didn’t bother to hesitate.

He burst forward, shedding aside [Reinforcement] in favor of his own unnatural speed.

It was more than enough.

He barely had time to get into his own pace, the world not even blurring much at the edges of his vision, before over a hundred meters vanished in literal seconds. Hardkour eased up the intensity of his stride as he neared his speeding target, careful not to overshoot the van as he pulled back his speed to just a little faster than it was already moving.

In another second, he was neck-and-neck with the dented vehicle. Can’t hit the thing, he thought to himself, revising his strategy of driving it off the road. There’s kids in there. The young cape shook his head. Gotta take out the driver first.

Hardkour sped up just a little bit more until he was right next to the driver’s window. His head darted to the side, allowing him to cast a harsh look at the hooded figure behind the steering wheel.

“Good evening, sir! Great night for a drive!” He spoke the words in a tone that didn’t match his mood, a joke already on the tip of this tongue. “L-license and registration, please!” The next sentence nearly stumbled out as it left his mouth, Greg slightly surprised that the driver already began to lower their window.

Saves me the trouble of breaking the window, he thought viciously, smiling to himself. Just gotta KO the driver, stop the van, and save the kids. Then, I find the other vans. Easy as cake.

It was a surprise then, when he felt his [Danger Sense] pulse yet again to grab his attention, Greg unable to ignore it as it rang with the urgency and intensity of a punch to the back of the head. Jesus!

It pulsed once more, forcing Greg to tea his head away for barely a second to wince at the sensation. What. Now. He glanced back at the driver with an irritated grimace beneath his mask, only for his expression to freeze as he stared at the open driver’s window. Blue eyes widened mid-stride as he stared through the object sticking out at him, the teenager’s face barely a meter away from the palm of a gloved hand.

His field of vision, limited as it was by the mask he wore, distorted as something rippled the air outwards from the palm in his face. Instincts and another pulse from [Danger Sense] demanded he jump away. He didn’t have to think about it, body already brimming with golden light as he made to kick backwards. “What the f-”

To his raw shock, Hardkour froze in place with a curse on his lips.

Literally.

A distorted sphere of near-translucent milky light surrounded him for nearly a meter around and he hung in the center of it. In the middle of the street, he stood perfectly still within the odd light formation, unable to even move his eyes, as he stared straight forward. His body a statue, mid-stride, frozen in place and mouth open behind his mask.

The van screeched to a sudden stop, the back doors bursting open. The moment they did so, Hardkour caught sight of someone with hands wreathed in the same greyish light that surrounded him, one of those hands gripping the musclebound shoulder of a much larger figure, this one with a white-blue tiger mask that Greg was honestly getting tired of seeing.

The sound of a keening wail screeched out through the otherwise quiet night as Stormtiger raised his hands, a mass of roiling air in his grasp.

The thought was cut short by the unholy sound that put the previous one to shame by sheer volume and depth, the vibration enough to make the ground shudder as the aerokinetic let go of his power.

Hardkour couldn’t even gasp as the world exploded in front of him, the bubble of energy surrounding him collapsing under the force of what slammed into the blond like a cannon. If he was in a position to describe it, he might have had the idea that it felt somewhat like being hit by a truck…

-400

If said truck was going a hundred miles an hour.

-165

And covered with knives.

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A lot of knives.

He flew back still frozen in that unfortunate mid-stride position, body hurled like a doll by the hand of a particularly petulant toddler. “-uck!” A second later, Greg Veder finally let out the last of his curse, the remainder of the word coming out like a gasp as he felt his body return to him in mid-air.

-224

Another gasp was forced from his lungs as his back met what could only be a brick wall with an impressive amount of force. His body drove through it with only the slightest bit of hesitation, the only comfort being the fact that it managed to slow him down somewhat.

-84

-40

-22

-6

That comfort didn’t last long as he collapsed another wall in a flail of limbs, still unable to stop his body as it ragdolled backwards through wood and plaster and an entire pane of glass with the uncaring force that was pure momentum managing to keep him going despite his wishes.

-3

-2

-2

-1

“Gah!” Hardkour’s body landed on another backstreet as he left the damaged storefront behind, grunting with pain as he careened head over heels, his back grinding over the asphalt on several occasions. It was when he finally came to a moderately painful stop that the blond took it upon himself to glance up at the scarlet notifications in his field of view. Face behind his helmet a dull mask of blank apathy that hid a conflicting mess of emotions, the blond could only let out a slight sigh. Huh.

Status Effect: Shattered Ribs (1) - 12 Minutes

Status Effect: Bleeding (Severe) - 45 Minutes

Status Effect: Punctured Liver - 30 Minutes

He finally settled on curiosity, pushing all other thoughts to the back of his mind at the same time as he did his best to ignore the pain he was currently feeling. The bulk of said pain was apparently one of his bottom ribs jabbing into what was just confirmed to be his liver, which was certainly a new feeling.

Not one he enjoyed, but certainly new.

Still, he didn’t really care about that. That wasn’t what he was curious about.

No, what currently had his attention was a simple question.

How the hell did they trap me?

He was chasing after a van, a van that was supposed to have kidnapped kids in it, not be full of Empire capes. He had no idea how they knew where he would be tonight, considering he didn’t even have any idea he was going to be doing this tonight himself. Frantically jumping from location to location as fast as he was and they still caught him…

Okay. Okay. Okay. Greg took a deep breath, the feeling of his rib bone slowly shifting back into position inside his body nearly as distracting as the red single digits ticking down in the corner of his vision. An equally deep breath left him in an exhale as he heard the squeal of screeching tires, the teenager not even having to stand to be well aware of the van that had just turned the corner at the end of the block.

And there they are.

In one smooth motion, the teenage cape was back on his feet.

As if his body were on some sort of hinge, he rose from where he lay on the ground from one instant to the next, no sign of bending or kneeling in between positions as dust, glass and shattered brickwork flew from his body as if hurled away by some invisible breeze.

He stood there for a second, seemingly catching his breath as his attackers leapt out from their hiding places. Two of them were very familiar to his eyes, one of them more so than the other, but the other two…

The other two...

Despite their bright and gaudy costumes marking them as parahumans, they were complete unknowns to him and apparently everyone else but the Empire. New capes. Greg’s eyes narrowed behind his helmet. Great.

Underneath his clothes, his muscles bristled with barely repressed rage, skin tingling with violent energy as he held back the urge to slam a fist through one or all of their skulls for the sudden attack on his person.

“So…” A hand slowly rose to his face, fingers splayed over his mask as he made sure not to hinder his vision.

“Before I say, what the actual fuck was that, and whoops, guess I just did...” A flash of blue energy came and went as the red half-helmet vanished from his face, exposing a black domino mask beneath and angry blue eyes behind that. As the light faded completely, the last of the oddly geometric motes of blue energy vanishing, each one of his surprise attackers caught sight of the wide-mouthed expression the young cape wore as he stared back at them. “Let me ask each one of you individual chucklefucks one simple question.”

Half-grin, half-grimace; all sharp-toothed irritation at the core of it all. “Where the hell are those kids?”

A pair of pupils morphed from humanlike to other by the end of the sentence, eyes casting a serpentine gaze at the four figures staring him down across the street. He knew even without checking, the same way he knew his eyes had changed, that beneath his gloves, his fingernails had shifted into rather sharp claws, each one capable of easily puncturing metal. “And before you answer that...”

The blond cape slowly turned his head to take in each one of his attackers, irises flashing intensely with that bright blue glow as he locked on to each and every face staring back at him with expectant yet wary expressions. “I want you to think real hard about the answer to my second question…

Hardkour took a single step forward out of the rubble he stood in, still grinning as he kicked a piece of brick out of his way hard enough for the thing to shatter into red dust. Gloved hands met in front of his chest, a hard fist smashing tightly into an open palm as his voice took on something of an inhuman growl.

“How badly do you want to die?”