Lag 6.12 (Final Draft) (Patreon)

Lag 6.12

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"How badly do you want to die?"

None of them answered the question.

Not that he expected them to.

Their responses really weren’t necessary.

Not yet, at least.

He’d burn it out of them.

Hardkour made to step forward, tension in the air spiking as he did so. Heat wafted around his hands, the young cape about to spark his pyrokinesis to life only to pause barely a moment later.

Pip.

One eye was sent into a twitching fit as annoyance warred with anger.

Quest Gained!

Those Wacky Nazis III: Enhanced Interrogation

Interrogate the Empire through whatever means necessary.

Objectives

- Discover where the kids are being kept. [ ]

Rewards: 5000 XP, $5000, + 2 Stat Points

Bonus Objectives

- ??? [ ]

Oh, come ooooooon, Greg groused to himself. I was just bluffing. I wasn’t gonna kill them anyway.

He gave a mental shrug after a second of thought. Like, not really. Just a little burning... maybe some mild stabbing.

Despite his mental dismissal, the quest window seemed to linger for a bit more than necessary, as if in doubt of his honesty. Alright, alright, I get it. No killing. One eye closed in a frustrated wince, the young cape began an attempt to calm himself.

C’mon, ease up, he told himself, doing his best to push his angry thoughts aside as he pulled on the calming mental balm he had grown used to. Calm it down. Don’t kill them. The thought of how easy it would be flickered past his thoughts as a haze of red tinted his vision for a moment, a haze that had nothing to do with his slowly healing wounds. You need them to talk. You need them to tell you things.

You need them. The teenager’s eyes flickered, and slit-like pupils eased into something approaching humanity. Alive.

He let out a hiss of air. “SooOoooo…”

Hardkour flinched as he paused to cough and clear his throat, the single fist he raised to his mouth splattered with blood after a second. His eye twitched as he stared daggers at the Empire Capes, not even glancing down at the bloody phlegm on his gloved hand.

“Sooo…,” The blond paused again to nod, voice finally easing it's grating tone as he felt his mind and body actually begin an ardent retreat back to normal. “Considering I wasn’t raised in a barn and I don’t just attack people out of frickin’ nowhere without so much as a hello…”

He paused his words as his tongue darted around his mouth, gloved fingers curling up to his palms, and noted with some annoyance that the changes were taking longer to retreat than he liked.  “I’m gonna do the polite thing and introduce myself. Hey there, you can call me Hardkour. The group-formerly-known-as-the-ABB is under my protection.”

None of the capes spoke, but both the tension in the air and their bodies spoke volumes for them. One of them, the shorter woman in the green-white costume and sculpted face mask with a similar coloring, was clearly edging closer to Krieg, her movements barely half-steps as she shifted towards the man standing several feet away. Hardkour’s keen eyes narrowed as he caught sight of her, unable to avoid noticing how her fingers were splayed out in the black-clad cape’s direction, the stoic man not even paying her attention as he stared forward silently.

Greg felt the urge to bend over himself, fingers twitching slightly as he held himself back from cradling the slowly healing wounds marking his torso. His jaw clenched as the little scarlet numbers rained down the left edge of his vision, even as he kept his own eyes forward, straight and unblinking.

-1

-1

-1

-1

-1

It was bad enough that he could literally feel and see himself bleeding out, but the sensation of the blood in his body constantly refilling itself in turn was even worse, somehow. He could only be thankful that the system didn’t bother him with little blue numbers showing how much he was regenerating, as well. In fact, he really didn’t want to put much more thought about where all that precious, precious blood was coming from, anymore than absolutely necessary. Note for later; Easy way to make money. Infinite blood bank.

Trying to stall for a few more moments as Gamer’s Mind worked it’s magic, the teenage hero directed his gaze towards the two capes nearest him with a slight tilt of his head. Both of them males and a good bit older than the two women standing between and behind them, they were also the only parahumans that weren’t complete unknowns to him.

“Krieg,” Hardkour began with a tilt of his head. I’m gonna have to take you down first.  “I’d say it’s nice to finally meet you but honestly, it’s... really not. More like a disappointment, really. You’re not as scary as I thought.” You hit hard, though, and you’re a guaranteed Brute. Smart, too.

Hardkour made eye contact, or something close to that, with the Neo-Nazi cape wearing an entire Schutzstaffel uniform — trenchcoat, cap and iron cross necklace included — that was jet black from top to bottom. The only spot of color in the man’s costume were the red lenses in his tight-fitting full-face gas mask, the enclosing helmet itself as black and soulless as the rest of Krieg’s getup.

All in all, the cape came off as rather frightening. Or at least he would have, if Greg could find it in him anymore to be scared of anything other than his mom in a bad mood.

“Before we do this, I gotta tell you that you pretty much look like a Goth C-3PO. You know, the one from Star Wars?” That was a lie. The cape looked more like a Nazi C-3PO but Greg doubted Krieg would consider that anywhere as much of an insult.

It didn't matter either way as Krieg didn’t visibly respond to the joke. From what the teenager could feel on his own end, the Teutonic terror didn’t particularly react internally either, his targeted [Taunt] basically sliding off the man’s composure. Well, dang. Yeah, too composed to let something like that get to him. Definitely a bigger problem than Air Cat.

His smile didn’t waver an inch despite his disappointment. Still smiling brightly, Hardkour turned his attention over to Stormtiger, gaze not actually shifting much at all as he made sure to keep all four capes within his line of sight. “Been a while, huh, Stormy?” Aerokinesis. Mine is stronger, but my tricks… Nah, my tricks aren’t on his level yet.

The tiger-masked cape grunted, fingers curled to claws at his sides in a slightly bent stance nearly identical to Hardkour’s own. “A couple weeks, about.”

The teenager nodded, thinking about just how often he had run into this one particular cape above all others. Just the odds alone…  Hardkour took a breath as he pushed that thought away, leaving it as another thought to tackle when he had a free moment. One eyebrow raised, he shot Stormtiger a curious look. “Didn’t you try to take me out last time we met too?” Shaker. Not a Brute. One hard hit takes him out of the fight.

Before the Nazi cape could respond with anything more than a grunt, Greg spoke up again with a smile on his face. “I tried to kill you too, didn’t I?” Gotta shake him up. His smile widened, showing a shrinking set of sharp teeth that had yet to shift back entirely. “Said I’d fry you up real good, right?” Make him angry and I got this in the bag already.

“Yeah,” Stormtiger growled, the rumbling of his voice actually able to be felt from as far away as Hardkour currently stood. The man edged even further forward, shoulders hunched as he stood in a form that could only be described as bestial. "That ya did."

"Kinda wish I finished the job, but anyway, Stormy — can I call you Stormy? Don’t answer. I’m gonna call you Stormy — Stormy, this is like the third time we've met, huh?” Hardkour spoke with a shrug of his shoulders, trying to seem unbothered, casual even.

More like the fourth but he doesn’t know that. “Look at us, man, who would have thought?”

"Not me," the older cape admitted, not relaxing his combat-ready stance even as he responded with a curt nod. “Definitely not me.”

“Not me, either,” the teenager shot back. He knows I can move fast enough to get the jump on him. “Honestly, if I had felt like it, you’d be pushing up daisies. Be real easy, too.” Don’t show off how much faster I got. Not yet.

He held up a raised hand, Krieg’s gaze following his raised limb. “You know, one hard punch and I’d probably take your jaw right off. Hell…”

Greg cast a surveying glance at all the capes, looking at them as if seeing them for the first time. Blue eyes darted from side to side, irises flaring to life with a cobalt light four different times in quick succession.

Krieg Lvl 35

Villain - Empire 88

Title: War Is A Force

HP: 380/380

Status: Calm

Traits: Inertial Mitigation/Enhancement

Krieg is one of the three lieutenants of the Empire 88, holding equal influence with Purity and Hookwolf, but possessing more intelligence, rationality and belief in the ideals of the Empire 88 than the other two combined. He enjoys Death Metal, spicy foods, and early morning calisthenics. Also, you know, murder.

Stormtiger Lvl 30(+)

Villain - Empire 88

Title: Razor Wind

HP: 450/450

Status: Angry, Eager

Traits: Aerokinetic V

A cape with nearly as much of a hard-on for violence as his friend and boss Hookwolf, Stormtiger loves the Empire for all the chances it gives him to flex his powers against other capes. Also, wants you dead pretty badly because your continued existence and his part in it has gotten him in trouble.

Nordwind Lvl 25

Villain - Empire 88

HP: 600/300

Status: Eager, Expectant

Traits: Thermal-Inversion Kinetic Enhancile (Enhanced Strength II/Durability III)

A wannabe member of the Empire before one of Bakuda’s slow-burning fire bombs forced her to trigger, Nordwind is a hybristophile with three things on her mind; villains, fighting and sex. Former babysitter, she had no problem messing around with fathers, as well as the boys she was supposed to be watching. Also, a big fan of hip-hop, but that’s an even bigger secret.

Impuls Lvl 15

Villain - Empire 88

HP: 170/170

Status: Fearful, Anxious

Traits: Inertial-Shunt Magnitude Augmentation

Second cousin to Othala, she was in the city during the Bombings and managed to trigger when some ABB tried to take down both Krieg and Othala with a suicide bombing, causing a building to nearly collapse on them both. Suffers from anorexia, social anxiety and panic attacks.

What the hell powers are those last two? The blond thought with a confused blink as he received the results of his quick [Analyze].. I mean, I know what the words mean by themselves but together… huh. I get Stormtiger and Krieg at least. They’re supposed to keep me from using my speed and strength but… the other two?

“Dang. All of you seem pretty, pretty… uh, what’s the word?” Thermal-Inversion Enhancile?

“Oh, that’s right…squishy, ” Hardkour continued, a wide grin accompanying the emphasized word. That sounds like she absorbs heat to get stronger, but how does the boost work? "Just look at me, honestly. Stormy blasted me though a couple buildings and I'm pretty much okay."

Is it massive? Weak? Over time? How much heat? And how does inversion work there? He pushed out a mocking cackle of a laugh, fighting the urge to groan in frustration even as he played up his reactions. "For you guys, I probably wouldn't even have to try all that hard."

He let himself trail off as he squeezed five fingers of an upraised hand into a right fist, and took careful note how each of the capes responded; Stormtiger and the woman in the gray/blue costume both shifted into a more aggressive stance while the woman in green next to her took an unwilling step back.

Krieg, though…

Krieg just stared.

Wait… An odd thought popped into Greg’s mind as he pulled his eyes away from Krieg and allowed his gaze to drift from person to person. Why aren’t they moving? The four had remained in that odd formation from the beginning, Stormtiger and Krieg in the front with the two girl noobs in the back, each of them within a few meters of the other. It’s been a couple of minutes. What are they planning? Surprise attack, sure, but they haven’t pulled anything since then. His eyes narrowed as he tried to piece together what their intentions were. I mean, stalling I get, but if they’re trying to put me down, they could at least try, right?

“This fight is not in your favor,” Greg pulled himself from his thoughts as his gaze snapped to the cape in the modified SS uniform. The man spoke up for the first time, voice a grim and somewhat husky sound that rang with a slight German accent. “We, as well as the larger Empire, have numbers. We have resources and, of course…” Krieg’s hands unclasped for the first time, hanging loose at his sides, “...we have experience.”

“And?” Hardkour tilted his head. This is new. “What are you getting at?”

One of Krieg’s hands went to his back as he held the other out in front of him, palm facing upwards. “This is an invitation for you to leave behind the sinking ship of the ABB and let the rats drown.”

His voice wafted towards Greg, pose and tone expressing a poise that rang with tight control. “This is an invitation for you to join a group more appropriate for your talents, appropriate for your heritage. The Kaiser wishes for you to join him personally for a meeting, simply to discuss how best to nurture your growth.”

The boy couldn’t help it.

He snorted out loud, actually confused at those words and blinked in pure confusion. What are these guys on right now?“... okay, but this is like one hundred percent a trap, so I don’t get how you thought that would work.”

“This is no trap,” Krieg responded calmly.

“You attacked me,” Greg enunciated the word carefully, almost like he was speaking to a toddler. “Literally smashed me through a city block. How is that supposed to be an invitation?

“Stormtiger simply reacted a bit too eagerly,” the wannabe SS officer said, voice tightening ever-so-slightly as he gave a nod toward his somewhat-sheepish looking teammate. “After all, were you not attempting to run us off the road?”

“...You’re villains.”

Krieg was silent for a moment, the man staring at the younger cape through the red lenses of his mask before allowing himself a tight nod. Then he spoke.

“Mass murder.”

Greg blinked at Krieg’s non-sequitur, the words coming out of nowhere for him. “Sorry, what?”

“Involuntary manslaughter. Destruction of property. Reckless endangerment. Evading arrest. Malicious vigilantism. And the assault of two Protectorate heroes, if I’m correct. These are the current charges the PRT has against you and I believe this is just a short summary.” Krieg tilted his head to the side, body shifting so that he seemed to be looking down at Greg, even from so far away. “If we are villains, quite frankly, I must ask what you believe yourself to be.”

Okay, fuck this guy.

A pair of bright blue eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Look, I know what I am. I also know that I don’t want to talk to your boss, and why the hell do you think I would ever say yes? I repeat, why do you think I would ever join you sickos? Hell, you showed up with two noobs ready to ambush me!”

His eyes flickered over to the women in question, gaze rapidly switching between both of them in quick succession. Lower levels than Krieg and Stormtiger. Question both of them. Hardkour lingered on the timid woman in the green mask a bit longer than the other, her frail frame obvious even under the layered cloak of a costume the Empire had put her in. Her powers might be strong, but she…

She definitely isn’t, the blond thought to himself.

She’ll break easy. Use her for answers after Krieg, Stormtiger and the other one are down. A moment later, he visibly shook his head, a vague snort of disapproval leaving his mouth before he spoke again. “Scratch that, I don’t care what you think. You’re stalling and I know it. I just want answers. If I don’t get them, if you don’t tell me what I want... I’m breaking bones.”

Stormtiger’s response came in the form of a humorless laugh, the man’s arms trembling slightly as he held himself back. "Shut the hell up, brat. You’d never even get a chance. Either take this offer or leave it.”

“I already told you, I’m not joining your Neo-Nazi weirdo club!” Greg shot back with a mocking laugh of his own. “Now, answer my question or I’ll turn you into a Fire-Stormtiger.” Ughhh, that was terrible.

The tiger-mask cape growled again, muscles twitching from sheer rage. “You know, if I’d have known how annoying you’d be, I’d have splattered you all over that alley that first night I met you."

He was right, and Greg wasn’t going to even try and deny it to himself. It was more obvious than anything, really. A level 5 who could barely take a gunshot and only fought up close going up against a hardened and experienced cape with blasts that could rip open a car? That would be an absolute slaughter.

But, that was then.

This was now.

"I don't know. You seem to hit like a pussy so I kinda doubt you’d pull it off," Hardkour shot back with another open-mouthed smile, grin widening as he felt his [Taunt] take hold. “No Purity to beg for mercy for you this time, kitty-cat.”

“Beg!?” The chain-wearing cape curled his fingers into claws as he yelled the word with all the force of a war cry.

Bingo.

Krieg’s gaze slid to his male accomplice, body language showing a lack of total composure for the first time that night as he tried to warn the man back. “Stormtiger, the plan!”

The black-clad Nazi’s shout came too late, not that the other cape would have listened anyway. Stormtiger was already in motion with one hand outstretched, the grimace of a vicious scowl visible beneath his mask. “Fuck the plan! I can take him!”

There were no more words to be had as a blast of weaponized air launched from his palm, a massive translucent sphere on a direct path towards the teenage cape.

(Fun fact, I don’t think I’ve ever read a Worm Fanfic before that featured Krieg or had a description of him that I remember, so I picked the outfit of Hellboy’s Kroenen. Then, after I looked up some fanfics with Krieg in them, I realized that I wasn’t special and the SS outfit is a common pic. Nothing new under the sun, I guess.)