ACL: 17. DIGGY DIGGY HOLE! WE’RE DIGGING A HOLE! (Patreon)

Chapter 17: DIGGY DIGGY HOLE! WE’RE DIGGING A HOLE!

Brockton Bay, NH, USA
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Type: Ground

I blinked as the clock struck twelve. Wasn't this… the third time in two weeks that I'd hit ground types? I'd try to calculate the odds, but I kinda sucked balls at math.

I wondered. Was Arceus up there trying to tell me that I should be more grounded? more realistic? Or maybe he wanted to watch me build a giant sand castle? Or maybe, there was no hidden meaning at all and the shitty llama was laughing his ass off watching me grasp at nothing.

That wasn't to say I was dissatisfied with ground of course. There were some real heavy hitters here, the kind that could redraw the map if ornery enough. The type as a whole was lacking somewhat in utility but made up for it with durability and impressive brute force.

X

Leah found me as I snagged myself a thin slice of cold meatloaf for breakfast. To be honest, the anemic-looking slice was itself considered a bit of a treat for us. There were a set of twins who had their birthdays among the little ones so Mrs. Wells made her homestyle loaf and this was the leftovers.

My childhood friend looked grungy as always, with a midriff-baring tank top and a red scarf, though I had to give it to her, she made it work.

"Yo," I raised my fork in greeting. "Your eyeliner makes you look like a psychedelic panda."

She gave me a one finger salute in response. "Fuck you, asshat. There better be another slice for me in the fridge."

"Yeah, left some. Leave some for Matthew and John, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah. So, I did some digging like you asked."

"Hmm? That was fast."

"I pay my debts."

"I know." I didn't need her help with Emily's ID anymore now that I had Faultline's cooperation, or would whenever she decided I wasn't brain-fucking Elle. I decided "What'd you find out?"

"Give me a good picture and a name and I know a guy who can get you a fake."

I decided to play along and let her get a fake ID for myself. I may not need it anymore for Emily, but who knew when one might come in handy for Blake? "Sure, thanks. How's Bigus Dickus sound?"

"Like you're compensating for something."

"Dick Longjohns?"

"Shut up, Blake."

"Buster Cherry?"

"Go to school, you shit. I get enough sex jokes at Winslow."

"Fine, fine. Be that way."

I stuffed the last of my meatloaf in my mouth and headed out for a jog, middle finger raised high behind me.

Sisters, right?

I was pounding pavement on the way to school when I received a text from Stacy. I stopped by the nearest fountain to catch my breath and respond; she wouldn't text me without a good reason.

Stacy: Hey, Blake, how's it going?

Blake: Jogging to school. What's up?

Stacy: Wanted to catch you before you got to school. Faraday cage and shit.

Blake: Yeah? Did something happen?

Stacy: No, but dad says you don't need to come in today. He's got inspectors from the state coming to check all the boxes and stuff. Been cleaning and double-checking our records yesterday.

Blake: Shit, should've told me. I would've gone in.

Stacy: Nah, it's cool. Anyway, you're free today.

Blake: Alright, thanks, Stacy.

I hummed as I began to jog again. That left me with some options after school. I wanted to ruminate for a while longer on Coil. I still couldn't think of a good way to contact Dragon to diffuse his deadman's switches; it wasn't like someone in this city had her on speed-dial or anything.

'I can go see how Emily's doing… maybe improve my base a bit. Ground is the best possible type for it,' I mused in my head. 'Or… I guess I can try to hit the gym? Carlos told me about the Laborn Gym last week and it'd be nice to have a place to practice actual combat again…'

I ducked out after school to head to the south ferry station. It was abandoned as always, but I did manage to catch my painter friend in the yard facing the sea.

She looked really focused, with a brush in hand and careful attention towards the canvas. I wouldn't be me if I didn't take the chance to tease her a little, so I ducked back inside and got changed into my full armor before shifting into something a little more… interesting…

"Shift, wooper."

I grinned as I shrank down. Wooper were some of the cutest pokemon out there. They were only a foot tall and looked dopey, with naturally wide mouths that spread into silly grins. Built for fresh water, their stubby feet and comparatively oversized tail were not meant for walking.

I waddled onto the alcove and mustered up a tiny spurt of water in my mouth. Not even a full Water Gun, Emily didn't exactly have many changes of clothes, but enough to wet her hair a bit.

I let loose and watched the drops strike her chin.

"Ah!" she squeaked, dropping her brush. She turned in surprise to face me, one hand going to her cheek to wipe off the water.

Emily looked cute, in that girl-next-door kind of way. The chill of the ocean breeze made her freckles stand out more. I was happy to see her wearing the sweater I bought her.

"Yo!" I greeted as I waddled up to her with a grin large enough to split my face. "How's it swimming?"

"Who-Blake?"

"Tis I!"

"You're so cute!"

She made to hug me but I retreated several feet with a slap of my tail. "Nope. No touchy. Not this one. Wooper are like salamanders; they need to stay hydrated."

"Aww, I have some water here."

"They stay hydrated by coating themselves in a thin film of mucus. That's the glossy stuff."

"Oh… Yeah, I don't want to get my sweater dirty, no offense."

"None taken. The film is poisonous," I said dryly. "It can be a major irritant and cause a lot of pain on contact. Pictures if you want to draw me. No touchy though."

"Got it, no touchy. How was school?" She got out her phone and began to snap some pictures at different angles. I didn't know if it'd sell well considering no one else has ever seen this form, but that was an easily remedied problem.

"Awful. Boring. A pox on mandatory education."

"Aww, you poor thing. Want a granola bar?"

"You know, it's a lot harder to sound sympathetic when you're trying not to laugh."

"Sorry."

"Don't paint this form though," I warned. "I don't want people to think you have special access to forms that others haven't seen yet."

"I know, I know. I won't make anything until a picture goes up on PHO and I can claim I used it for inspiration."

"Good. What've you been working on? How was your day?"

"Awesome! Let me show you what I've made so far," she said. I loved the way her eyes brightened like little stars every time she started talking about art. She was a lot like Sabah in that regard; they'd probably get along well together if I introduced them.

I shifted back and let her regale me about all the different complexities that came with painting alien biologies. The arcanine paintings looked amazing, with stylized flames coming from my jaws. She'd even made sketches of gardevoir from videos on PHO, though she wasn't looking forward to color-matching the red of my chest-crystal.

"So," Emily said, interrupting her own lecture on brush patterns, "what brings you here? Not that I'm not happy to see you, but did you need something?"

"Nope. I'm here to do some digging."

"Digging?"

"Yup. I'm thinking about making a set of escape tunnels all around the city."

"Umm… Why?"

"Safety," I said seriously. "Em, just knowing me makes you a target. Coil clearly doesn't care about using underhanded means and if he ever finds out you're my friend, he might try to get you to get to me. I want you to be able to disappear when you really need to."

"Oh… Yeah, I'd like that too," she said softly.

"So, shift, excadrill!"

I was short again, though about twice as tall as the wooper. The razor-sharp, serrated, pointed helmet that crested over my face also added a few inches. I was now a squat mole with claws harder than steel, best known across Unova for digging at ninety miles per hour and ripping holes through subway tunnels.

Clay's ace. He had a small army of these creatures running his mining business in Driftveil City.

"Blake?"

"Yes, Emily?"

"I don't get you." She already had her phone out and was snapping more pictures. "Why do all your pokemon look so different? What's your theme today?"

"Ground," I replied as I took on different poses.

"How is wooper a ground? Wouldn't salamanders be water?"

"It's that too."

"Huh. Neat. Can I touch this one or am I going to bleed out from spikes hidden in your armpits or something?"

I laughed and gave her a hug, making sure to point my face elsewhere. "This one's fine. Excadrill is ground and steel."

"Huh, so that's its name."

"Yup. Neat, huh?"

She sighed as she placed me on her lap. She jabbed my tummy with a dissatisfied pout. "You're surprisingly heavy like this. And your fur isn't as soft as an arcanine."

"Sorry I'm not huggable," I said dryly, hopping to the ground. "The fur keeps dirt from sticking. It's not supposed to be soft."

"So where are you going to make the other exits?"

I grabbed myself a map of the city from the ferry station, perks of making a hideout in a former tourism hotspot, and checked out my options. "I'm going to make as many as I can. The thing is, I want you to be able to lose people in the tunnels, or exit out into an enemy territory. Like, if you're being chased by Empire, lose them in ABB turf, you know?"

"Makes sense, I guess," she shrugged. "I don't really know much about tactics and stuff."

"So our first priority is PRT turf since they're the good guys. They're also really close by. Then ABB up north, because no one wants to wake the dragon so gang members would be less likely to hunt you there. Then Merchants? Not them specifically, but losing yourself in the Trainyards would be pretty easy to do. After that… I guess we should make a hole south, out past Empire turf and maybe even into the hiking trails a bit. Just off the freeway?"

"I don't know. You're the boss, mole-buddy. By the way, stay still so I can take a picture of you poring over a map like this. It's really cute."

I rolled my eyes but complied. "Sure, Em. As for the fifth… I suppose having one near New Wave would be good for coordination purposes if nothing else. I guess a college? Yeah, I like this plan."

"How long is all this going to take though? Don't you change your theme every day?"

"I tunnel at 90 miles per hour. The real time crunch will be me doubling back to make sure the tunnels are wide enough for a person to travel through. And, you know, not going to collapse."

"Yes, I'd appreciate that too," she said wryly. "Buried alive doesn't sound like a fun way to go."

"No, no it is not."

With that morbid rejoinder, I got to work.

As I worked, I compacted the earth and widened it. It was like I'd been introduced to a sixth sense. I could feel the vibrations in the earth. Even a dozen meters away, the cars that drove above me told me exactly what was around me.

The water and sewage flowing through the pipes. The subtle electrical charge in the wires. The aquifer above me that told me to be extra-careful. Everything. I had no idea just how sensitive whiskers could be.

I had to think very carefully about where I wanted to emerge. It couldn't be public obviously. I also didn't didn't think any random basement would do. Who knew when those were checked?

A tunnel in PRT territory was the shortest, but it was also the one that I had trouble finding an exit point for. Being heavily patrolled, the area was rife with businessmen and busybodies.

In the end, I settled on a nondescript alley on the edge of the business district. It was two blocks away from a Walmart and nestled between a barber shop and a chiropractor's office. To see the entrance, you had to head deep into the alley, around the dumpster, and beneath a shaded awning and fire escape. It wasn't the most well-hidden entrance, but unless someone went actively looking, it wouldn't be found.

The second was much simpler, an abandoned warehouse near the Boat Graveyard. It was deep inside ABB turf, but patrols were fairly rare from what I remembered Mark telling me. Judging by the undisturbed layer of dust on everything, no one had been here in years, not even the bums. It was a simple matter to hide the entrance behind a rusty shipping crate.

The entrance in Merchant territory was simultaneously easy and hard. It was laughably easy to find abandoned buildings or little hideaways in the Trainyards. Finding one without any hallmarks of the transient community though? That got a little tricky.

In the end, I was forced to settle for an abandoned house near Somer's Rock, the infamous dive bar that once belonged to Marquis, or so went the rumors anyway.

The house itself had old signs of fighting. No bloodstains or anything, but there were large gouges in the walls and sections of drywall obviously missing. The dust implied no one had been here in a while and there was nothing to steal here, not even a mattress, so I had to assume it wasn't likely to be occupied anytime soon.

Then, just when I was about to head down into the tunnels again, I received a phone call. Amy. I frowned. I couldn't think of a single good reason for her to call me, she wasn't exactly the chatty type.

I picked up and began to quiver my lips. "Let him go! Please! I-I can get the money, I swear!"

"Shut up, Blake," Amy groaned. "Are you ever serious?"

"Seriously in love with you~"

"I want to gag."

"Yeah, not my best line. What's up?"

"Kaiser, Krieg, the twins, Stormtiger, Victor, and Othala are out in the Graveyard. Aunt Sarah, Uncle Neil, and Crystal are stalling them."

I groaned. I'd considered the possibility of something like this happening but I'd dismissed it over other concerns. Hookwolf and Cricket got taken down, so there was always a chance they'd respond, but Coil captured my attention shortly after.

"Okay, what do you think I should do?"

"I don't know," she said frantically. "Fight them? Meet up with the Protectorate? Vicky thinks they might be the distraction while Purity goes to free Hookwolf."

I let out a frustrated groan. There went my tunnel plans… three of five wasn't bad, right? Still, that was no brainer in the end. Kaiser, Krieg, Fenja, Menja, Stormtiger, Victor, and Othala… I just didn't see them being the threats they thought they were.

"I'll go fight, Ames," I promised. "Don't worry. I'll keep your family safe."

"You be careful too, you idiot," she huffed. "ETA?"

"I'm kind of nearby already. You know where Somer's Rock is?"

"The old dive? Why?"

"Digging. For GREAT JUSTICE! Or something… probably."

"Whatever, I don't care. That's only like eight blocks away."

"I know. I'll be right there." I hung up and headed outside. Once I was sure there was no one around, I struck my palm towards the sky. "Shift, flygon!"

I felt myself change again, gaining several inches to stand at about six-six, but that was excluding both my twin head crests and the tail that was as long as the rest of my body. My vision became tinted in crimson as the lenses that protected a flygon's eyes from the sand settled over my face.

I felt powerful. I was the Mystic, the Desert Spirit. The heart of a dragon beat within me and I could feel the urge to take flight. A part of me, that wandering spirit, wanted to leave this chilly, wet land and head south and west. Arizona perhaps?

I quashed those instincts in favor of something more important. My friends needed me and flygon were ever called guardians of the sands. No sand here, but protect I shall. The dragon in me rumbled its approval.

Slowly, I beat my four wings. A high-pitched humming rang out through the city. In Hoenn, it was said that their wingbeats could sound like feminine singing, notes so pure and rich that it led men astray.

I soared high into the sky, taking care to fly high enough to get a bird's eye view of everything.

Flygon weren't fighter jet-fast like garchomp, but no one who liked staying out of the hospital would call one slow either. They were dragons and dragons had their pride.

They were sleek, had superb aerial maneuverability thanks to their four wings, and could turn on a dime because they used their fan-like tail crests like giant rudders.

I stared down at the decrepit mess that was the Boat Graveyard. Even without the giant tanker, I could see that it was mostly full of useless warehouses, half-sunken wrecks, and rusty tools and shipping containers no one wanted. Salvage and reconstruction efforts had begun, but that didn’t mean the city was magically better.

It looked like shit. As in, I'd thought Virbank's harbor looked bad but Brockton somehow managed to outdo Roxie's gym even without having access to any actual poison types.

I had to admit, it took serious talent to be this ambivalent about your own city.

And I'd made it all valuable real estate overnight.

Off on the southern side of the Graveyard, I could see the seven Empire capes. They were led by a heavily armored figure. He stood in the middle of the harbor street, with a greatsword clenched in both hands and rested against the ground.

Kaiser. I had to give it to the man. He had style if nothing else. I could see why normal people were so afraid of him. Over the years, he'd cultivated an almost legendary air of mystique around him, as both a tyrant and champion of his bigoted cause.

Next to him stood two of the least practically dressed women I'd ever met. Where Kaiser looked every bit the grim conqueror, the twins, Fenja and Menja, looked like they just stepped out of a fantasy fashion shoot.

They wore the same hyper-sexualized bikini armor with winged helmets. Fenja carried a bastard sword alongside a sturdy-looking shield. Menja only wielded a spear, but twirled it like she knew how to use it.

Both women stood a full twelve feet tall, framing their king like the valkyries of legend.

To their left was Krieg, suspected of being Kaiser's foremost lieutenant. He was dressed in a secret police uniform, with the E88 stylized swastika displayed proudly over his breast.

A gaggle of E88 goons marched behind the man, each trying their best to perform what was probably supposed to be a parade march. They ended up looking like they'd shat themselves and didn't want to rub it against their asscheeks, but what did I know?

They weren't important. The one who was though, was the pretty, one-eyed blonde woman at the center of their formation. They were clearly meant to be her meat shields, which made her Othala.

And then there was Stormtiger, walking on Krieg's left. He looked as idiotic as always. Somehow, judging by the way the twins dressed, I was starting to think at least half the E88 discriminated against shirts too.

No shirt, no Jews, no blacks. Was that their slogan?

Idiots.

Checking my aura reserves, I could tell I had roughly five minutes in this form.

Amy had told me that there were seven. She wouldn't bullshit me, which meant I was missing one. And if Othala was here, Victor should be…

"Oh… There he is," I muttered.

Once I started looking, I spotted him almost immediately. He was supposed to be the skill-thief, the "most talented man in the world," according to Empire idiots. If he wasn't around, that meant he was probably off culturally appropriating ninjas or being tacti-cool on a rooftop somewhere.

I found him on a rooftop six blocks away, on one of the taller warehouses. Four stories was tall for the area and he had a good view of the harbor where Kaiser was making his statement.

He was lying flat against the roof with a sniper rifle.

I was glad to have found him; those things could potentially hurt even me, assuming he wanted to resort to real bullets. Considering the strength I'd shown off, I didn't want to dismiss the chance of him having set up specifically to prepare for me.

I spotted Crystal and her parents. They stood across from Kaiser as he made some grandstanding speech about white supremacy or prosperity or something. My song drowned him out up here, not that a dragon would deign to listen to some petty king.

Off in the distance, I could see Dauntless and Velocity. Dauntless was flying at decent speed below my position so he hadn't seen me yet. Velocity was even faster, all but a red blur. I had no doubt that there would be more people joining the party soon enough.

Victoria was probably on her way; I couldn't imagine her staying out of this. Brandish and Flashbang? Maybe.

Protectorate for sure. At least a few more would be here even if they wanted to guard the prisoners already in custody. PRT, eventually, assuming someone didn't slash their tires or whatever. They'd probably arrive to clean up if nothing else.

ABB… their two capes were the wildcards here. Would Lung join in to "prove himself?"

I considered my position. I couldn't really strike up a plan with the rest of the heroes. Did I want to just crash down and try to wipe them out on my own? Or did I want to join Lady Photon and get Kaiser to back off without a fight?

If I chose to strike alone, who did I go for? Could I remove Victor before he had a chance to alert anyone to my presence?

I stifled a chuckle. In the end, my answer was simple. Victor made the right call. He found a good vantage point and had a clear line of sight on both flyers as well as any reinforcements that would arrive. He undoubtedly had exceptional marksmanship skills from the years of experience he'd stolen.

His biggest mistake was thinking he was invisible, or that no one would take advantage of his own positioning. The biggest advantage to being a sniper was also its biggest downside. Sure, he could easily pick off high-value targets such as myself from a safe distance, but being so far away also meant there wasn't anyone to help him should he be discovered.

I allowed myself a dark smile and beat my wings faster. The harmonic singing that had so far remained in the background mounted louder and louder.

The haunting chorus heralded my presence as I swooped down. Surging with ground type aura, I loomed above him as I conjured a sandstorm from thin air.

He didn't have the time to do more than twitch as the miniature tidal wave of sand collapsed on top of him. Sand Tomb was a relatively simple move, but it could be match-ending when used by a flygon.

"Wha-"

"Shhh, none of that, Victor," I cooed as more and more sand enveloped his face. A chorus of howling winds and grating sands echoed across the rooftop and I saw no reason not to play along with the free ambiance. "Sleep now. There's nothing to worry about. This is all a bad dream…"

I held him in a coffin of sand for several minutes until I could feel him stop squirming. Then, I transformed back and dosed him with a puff of Sleep Powder. He wouldn't be waking up for a while.

Seeing how I had a minute to wait, I decided to take over Victor's overwatch. I was no good with a sniper rifle, but the scope was more than enough to give me eyes on Kaiser.

Negotiations had obviously broken down. I didn't know what was said, but they'd heard the song of the desert. It rattled both the heroes and villains, causing Lady Photon and Laserdream to soar into the sky for a better view.

It didn't take long for them to find me. Line of sight went both ways after all. I gave them a jaunty wave and gestured to Victor's unmoving body next to me. They got the message but they had to dodge a fireball from Othala's empowered minion.

The fireball was rapidly followed by drilling air bullets from Stormtiger. The two attacks combined to form a massive fireball in the sky that threatened to strike them from behind if they looked away.

They couldn't come to collect Victor, I realized. That would mean giving the gang members free shots at their back and leaving Manpower behind. I was saved from having to figure out what to do with his body by Dauntless.

The discount Spartan settled down on the building and shot me a professional nod. "Menagerie."

"Dauntless. Found Victor. Mind taking him elsewhere?"

"We're not sure, but we think the rest of the Empire are going to make a raid on the PRT building. I don't think taking him there will help. How long will he be out?"

"Three to four hours."

"That's fine then. I can have Aegis drop by and guard the captive."

"Are Wards allowed to do that?"

"When it's all hands on deck? Yes. Unless you intend to be here?"

"Nah."

He took to the air again. "Then come join us when Aegis arrives. Velocity's already down there harrying the Empire. Console's relayed the order so it shouldn't take long."

He was right. The leader of the Wards was here in a few minutes. He settled down on my roof and gave me a friendly nod. "Yo, Menagerie. Heard you needed a guard."

I gestured to the sleeping villain. "He does. He'll be out for a few hours."

"Cool. I can sit on him until things settle down. Armsmaster's just arrived too. Miss Militia, Triumph, Assault, and Battery are fighting Purity, Crusader, Night, and Fog."

"Okay, so they can use the backup." I looked over the scene again. It wasn't impossible I could end this. Yes, by coming out in force like this, Kaiser had presented his Empire to me on a silver platter. Who was I to deny a free feast? "Thank you, Aegis. I'll settle things here and go reinforce the PRT."

"Wait what do you mea-"

"Shift, toedscruel!"

I grew almost an extra foot, though most of it was legs. Or tentacles. Mycelia? Crimson orbs of gel-like fluid dotted my crown. Inky-black skin gave me an almost gummy texture. I looked like some kind of landlocked tentacruel.

Except, the two were unrelated. One was a plant and the two were joined so far apart on the evolutionary tree that a toedscruel was more closely related to a sandslash than a tentacruel.

All I could say was that the Alpaca Above had a sense of humor and it was no fun for the rest of us.

I spent a few seconds wondering at my newfound body. Mushroom-like tentacles supported my weight with deceptive strength and I knew that the flesh would not part easily despite appearances.

Then the personality hit. Toedscruel were, as their name implied, cruel creatures. Though to be fair, they did have some justification for this. The frills beneath their hat-like crowns were often harvested as delicacies by the people of Paldea, so they didn't exactly like humans.

While their antipathy towards humans was understandable; their sadism absolutely was not. The fungus pokemon were best known for draining unwary travelers dry by wrapping them in tentacles. Some predatory plants tried to mask their predation with nectar or sleep powders.

Toedscruels did not do that despite access to one of the most potent Spores in the pokemon world. In fact, they seemed to delight in causing pain, in watching their prey struggle as they were wrapped in tentacles that could bend steel. One tentacle could easily match an adult human. Ten?

I looked down at the sleeping Victor and was sorely tempted to reach out and place a tentacle on his exposed skin. The drain would rouse him from sleep.

I imagined how he'd look, with eyes wide and panicked as he realized he was about to die.

A tentacle reached out for him almost on its own.

Just when I was about to touch him, I shook myself from the pokemon's sadistic daze. Apparently, predatory fungi were no fucking joke.

"Okay… This might be more challenging than I thought," I muttered.

"Menagerie?"

"Nothing, Aegis. I have a plan."

"I can connect you to Console and-"

I cut him off as I made ready to jump. "No need. This'll be over in a moment."

I bunched my ten mycelia beneath me and got ready. Toedscruel did not run. They did not fly, either. They jumped.

They jumped on their springy tentacles like the world's least desirable pogo stick. No matter how ridiculous the image, they were fast. Almost as fast in fact as a flygon, being outdone strictly thanks to their relative lack of 3D maneuverability.

Fortunately, that also meant a four-story vantage point was nothing. I leapt out onto an adjoining rooftop and towards the capes fighting.

I wanted to time this correctly. Spore was powerful, but it wasn't foolproof. The biggest problem was range. Spore could cover a small grove, but there was the chance that Stormtiger would blow the powder away before everyone got a good whiff.

As I approached, I adjusted my plan and muttered a quiet apology to the heroes.

Layering my voice with Supersonic, I shouted the first line that came to mind, from an Aleph-import anime that Mark liked to watch, "DYNAMIC ENTRY!"

Even before I landed, I could see the effects of Supersonic take hold. Stormtiger, who usually manipulated air currents to hear as much as possible in a fight, went down first. He clutched his head in his hands and fell with a pained cry.

I landed on top of him a moment later, springy tentacles wrapping his body in painful coils. Without him, my spores were free to permeate the battlefield.

I shook my body, sending my spores flying wildly around the battlefield. It was only semi-controlled, but the range was actually improved thanks to Stormtiger beneath me helping things along. His frantic struggle against my tentacles released gusts of wind that scattered my spores much higher and farther than they'd otherwise go.

The first I targeted was, of course, Kaiser. I lashed out with a tentacle that dragged him closer to me. He was in the middle of shouting orders, something about Cricket, but never got more than a word in edgewise before I yanked him into a pocket of spores.

Plate armor did absolutely nothing to protect him and he went down like a light.

His two valkyries fared no better. One of them, the spear-wielder, did manage to nick a tentacle, making me wince in pain, but a quick drain of Stormtiger's vitality made up for that. Without any face protection at all, they too went down in short order.

The powder cloud continued on, spreading dangerously outward towards Manpower, who'd been wrestling with Fenja.

"Raahhh!" Manpower roared, a burst of electricity launching him out of the way.

Armsmaster, who'd been side by side on the front lines with Manpower, was caught flat-footed. I remembered Amy telling me the PRT insisted on partially face-revealing masks for PR reasons. That turned out to be a horrible idea in this case because he took a lungful of my spores and went to la la land.

Krieg, Othala, and the Empire grunts actually managed to weather my alpha strike with minimal losses. Othala ducked behind a few grunts, one of whom tossed a fireball over his head and ignited most of the spores sent their way.

The spores exploded, as diffused with oxygen as they were, but the explosion was minor and most of them had only superficial burns. I saw only four grunts go to sleep as a result of the empowered grunt's quick thinking. Or panic. Most likely panic.

Krieg fared the best of all Empire capes. His localized telekinesis simply parted the air around him. I'd need something more forceful if I wanted to get through to him.

Stormtiger's final thrashing meant the powder gained some real height, something Laserdream wasn't prepared for at all. She had been attempting to strafe Fenja and caught a rising cloud of it. She fell like a stone and was only saved by her mother conjuring a shield in front of her.

Now, only Krieg, Othala, and the minions were left. On our side, Lady Photon went to put her daughter down somewhere, leaving us with Dauntless and Manpower.

I stared down the two supervillains. "So, now would be a good time to surrender, eh?"

Krieg scoffed. He talked like someone in a period movie. He muttered something in German I was pretty sure wasn't safe to repeat around kids. "Your powders mean nothing to me, creature."

"Menagerie. Though Creature probably would've been a decent pick for a name. One question before I hand you all your collective asses."

"What?"

"Is German meant to sound like you have a hedgehog rammed up your ass? Or is it just you?"

"You-"

Manpower launched towards Krieg, though he was much slower than I'd seen him move last. Then he was struck from behind by Dauntless' arclance. A crackle of lightning shot through the air and instead of bowling him over, charged Manpower in a corona of electromagnetic color.

'Brilliant,' I thought. Friendly fire meant nothing to those two. I didn't think cape powers could synergize like that, but I was happy to be proven wrong.

Leaving the two to handle the telekinetic, I turned my attention to Othala. She looked at me with fear in her lone eye. Alongside Rune, she was the youngest member of the gang and I could practically see the inexperience as anxiety set in.

"S-Stay back, freak," she stammered. She shoved her pyrokinetic minion forward. "We'll set you on fire!"

The grunt, I decided to call him Rupert, raised his hand and spouted a gout of fire at me. She'd unwittingly stumbled on a decent plan. Toedscruel were grass types. Fire trumped grass. Really, knowing the basics like that would have gotten her the first badge in any League.

Hell, she'd also managed to burn away the spores last time. I wasn't keen on trying a failed strategy twice. I could use Earth Power, but… localized eruptions were bad for the city, or so one would assume…

I ambled towards her on springy tentacles anyway. If she thought I could be outmatched by guessing at a type chart, she was in for an awful time.

"Sure, why not. I don't mind fire," I said with a laugh. Just to bait them further, I spread out three tentacles on each side in a universal "come at me" gesture.

"Fuck you! Burn, you freak!" Rupert roared valiantly. Or he tried, but his voice cracked. I sighed. He probably wasn't much older than me.

He let out a stream of fire that I'd place roughly on par with a charmeleon's Flamethrower. Not weak by any means, but not anything to write home about.

"Reflect Type," I muttered. Ghostly blue energy surrounded me before my cells rearranged themselves on a metaphysical level.

The fire washed over me but my cells did not burn because I became a fire type in all the ways that mattered. I'd effectively coated myself in a temporary shell of fire type aura, the type dependent on whatever move of my opponent's I was focusing on.

With nothing else to stop me, I lashed out with my many mycelia, seeking every bit of exposed skin available. Upon contact, I drained them quickly with Absorb, knocking them all on their asses.

I grabbed Othala by the waist and yanked her towards me. She was the vital target. Without her, the Empire's ability to sustain any conflict would take a major hit. Lacking any other exposed skin, I grabbed her by the face. Twin tentacles reached out and held her cheeks, only for her to shriek in agony.

"AAAAHHHHH! Let go! It hurts!"

I grimaced and suppressed the part of this pokemon that enjoyed the pain of others. I blew a puff of Spore directly into her face to knock her out.

So distracted with Othala and the minions was I that I didn't see Krieg run. He'd evidently still managed to disengage from Manpower and Dauntless somehow.

The two heroes stared at me. I stared back.

"What?"

"Menagerie… Do you mind letting Othala go?"

I looked down at her. She looked almost peaceful if it weren't for the fresh tears running down her face. I'd wrapped four tentacles around her, one behind her knees, another at her hips, and the third and fourth on her shoulders.

Belatedly, I realized what this looked like. I let her slide to the floor with a sheepish chuckle. "I… I swear I'm the good guy?"

Dauntless coughed awkwardly. "We know. Just… I'm just going to forget that happened…"

"Yeah… Let's…"

Then a surge of awe and wonder filled the air. Victoria Dallon had arrived, several minutes late.

Seeing that the fighting was done, I shifted back. "Glory Girl. I was told by Panacea that you were already on your way. What happened?"

"Hi, Menagerie! Rune happened," she said with an angry scowl. "She grabbed a random car and threatened to throw it at me if I came here. It took me a while to work around her, but no one's hurt. Guess I came too late."

Manpower nodded and gave his niece a hug. Next to him, Lady Photon landed lightly. "I'm glad you handled that," she said. She then leveled me with a stern look. "I'd appreciate it if you let us have some warning the next time you launch a gas attack."

"Not gas, powder," I corrected. The unamused expression on her face left me feeling mildly chastised. "Sorry, I didn't think that would hit Laserdream. Stormtiger's air currents pushed the powder higher than I expected."

"They'll be up in a few hours, right?" Dauntless asked.

"Pretty much. Just leave them alone and they'll wake up feeling like a million bucks."

Sarah Pelham nodded and began walking back towards her daughter. "Okay, thank you for the advice. And for coming to help."

"Part of the job."

"So it is," she said, favoring me with a small smile.

Dauntless frowned as he raised a hand to his ear. "Console? Repeat that. Understood."

"What's going on?" Neil Pelham questioned. "News on your end?"

"Not good. Alabaster arrived to reinforce them and distracted Miss Militia. Purity almost brought down the building but punched a way through to the prison. Hookwolf and Cricket are free."

I sighed. I wanted to say it was out of left field, but the PRT was infamous for losing prisoners. Given they were outnumbered, I couldn't even blame them. This time.

I started to count them on my fingers. "Kaiser's here. So are Fenja, Menja, Stormtiger, Victor, and Othala. That leaves Purity, Krieg, Hookwolf, Crusader, Night, Fog, Cricket, Alabaster, and Rune free. Holy shit, they still have nine capes?"

"Language, young man," Sarah sighed. "And yes. This is what makes them so troublesome."

"Wow…"

I wanted to promise to target them more, but… I couldn't. At least, not until Coil was dealt with. So instead, I bowed out and left the cleanup to the heroes before heading home.

Author’s Note

I suppose you could make the argument that a flygon shouldn’t be able to use Sand Tomb in midair. As QM, I ruled that if a pokemon could create hail in the summer, a flygon could make sand out of aura.