Worm - Random fic idea I started but haven't turned into a full story yet. (Patreon)

Emma-Centric. Not technically a crossover, but greatly inspired by that one Villain Manwha where all the girls are drawn with a 10/10 ass. Can't remember the name, but if you know - you know.

(Starting with an interlude)

Jonathon Lee

I sip my coffee, other hand fanning through potential candidate profiles on the inconspicuous Tinkertech scanner disguised as my phone. Tinkertech AI profiling. My final attempt to find a worthy successor for my secret martial arts, passed down for generations beyond counting - and now in danger of dying out entirely if I could not find a successor that could match - if not surpass - my own capabilities. In the age of Parahumans, sundering steel in a single strike was no longer special. A spear breaking on flesh was barely notable. To stand once more at the top of the world, the new successor needed to be beyond anything the new generations of our sect had even touched upon, they would need to retread the steps of our ancient elders - become like unto the gods of old, lightning dancing from their fingertips and the earth quaking with every step. And while I could trade blows with the elite of the world, I could accept the reality that such mastery was beyond me.

I had wasted years on my dojo. On seeking out the supposed 'greatest' and tutoring them. Nothing. A few candidates that could attain a low rating in 'Brute' or 'Striker', not even approaching what I could do personally - let alone matching my hopes of them going beyond me. That was where this device came in. All of my generational wealth, all of my earnings - into this pocket-sized machine. Pulling in ridiculous amounts of data from every source imaginable, feeding it to the AI... and receiving a scored output on the candidates potential. This latest series of undercover interviews, hidden recording devices and secret tests on the schools of this area - the ideal age for a new, up-and-coming trainee - was probably just another waste of time. A few, lone candidates had scored in the fifties, but most barely reached thirty percent.

An abysmal score. A child could do better. Had done better. I had fed the machine videos of myself. Training, learning, studying, fighting - even just simply walking around, and I had scored eighty-one percent. It was impressive technology, admittedly - but the kind of talent to just pick up the Dragon Fang, our secret technique that placed our elites on a level past even that of supposed 'Brute' parahumans thanks to our inner battle spirit, couldn't be found in a dingy, backwater high-

The device beeps and vibrates in my hand. Another set of candidates processed, ready to be declined. I flick through again, dismissing one after the other. All the way to the final set of the batch- and I stop, eyes wide.

Not because I recognised her, the rather plain, bookish girl was an unfamiliar face to me - not one of the Clans, nor any likely relation judging purely by her skin. But the tiny number in the corner of her image drew my eye like a magnet. A figure to highlight her potential. For the first time since picking up this infernal device, I saw a number higher than both myself and my own masters. Three digits. A perfect 100.

I take in the image again, cooling my heart. Ridiculous. The machine had bugged out. The mousy, pathetic little girl could never have talent eclipsing mine - let alone be the single, greatest master of our blessed art in our proud, two-thousand year history.

This... this warranted some investigation first. I couldn't drop everything to bank solely on the guess of a machine. This could be my last pupil, I was getting older - running out of time. I couldn't afford to be wrong. But if it was true...

I would test the girl, see if she truly did have any potential to speak of. A test of mental strength and fortitude, of heart and spirit - the burning determination to fight on, no matter what happened-

A girl slams her bag onto the table in front of me. "Sorry, am I interrupting you?"

I give her a strained smile. "You are, actually. I'm sorry but I'm quite busy now-"

The redhead rolls her eyes rudely. "I know. Let me try guessing. You're an alien from outer space, looking for the perfect ambassador of humanity to introduce us to the galactic community."

What? This is why everybody hates America. Why were the people always so insufferably rude? "I really am busy-"

"No? I'll definitely get aliens right one of these days." She shakes her head. "Uh, you've come looking for your long-lost cousin's only surviving family - ready to take her home to your superpowered, lovingly chaotic home-" She cuts herself off, looking closer. "No, more of a 'wizened old master vibe'. Uh, a wizard- no! Wait. Asian. Ninja stuff. Samurai! You're looking to train someone in the way of the true Katana, that they may become the chosen wielder of the Muramasa - the legendary, sentient blade forged from thousand-folded steel in the blood of its master." She nods, evidently pleased with her deduction.

That didn't even make sense. "I-" I shake my head, growing increasingly irate. "-I'm not even Japanese. I'm Chinese, not that I expect an uncouth brat like you to tell the difference." Perhaps that was unworthy of me, but I had no patience for the mentally ill pushing their issues onto innocent strangers.

"Oh." She pauses, then shrugs. "Not great at races, sorry about that." She doesn't sound sorry. "Anyway, Chinese? The most cliche thing would be... cultivators? Wuxia? The Secret-Heavenly-Dragon-Demon-King Fist?" She tilts her head. "Literal dragons, maybe?" Her eyes have a certain intensity to them now. "Oh, whatever! But whatever your deal is, it all comes down to one person - right? The chosen one. The reincarnated successor. The heir to the throne. The lucky lottery winner. Somone who randomly impressed you. Taylor Hebert."

I jump at the name. Too insightful to be innocent. A parahuman? I push myself to my feet, senses extending outwards - the world moving in slow motion as I consider her. "How did you-?"

"Sit down, and let me tell you about how the world works." She takes a seat herself. "The world wants to be a story." I try to interrupt. "Listen! Comic book stuff. Lord of the Rings. It loves a cliche. It loves its main characters, it wants to dunk on the villains. The hero gets plot armour, the antagonist gets the idiot ball. Plucky underdog pulls out the win! Sudden powerup right when it's needed most! It's luck. Fortune. Narrative. My power, if you can call it that, is partly to see and understand these values that people have. How much the world loves them and wants them to succeed."

"A fanciful tale-" I begin.

"Shut up." She sneers at me. "I'm talking." I harrumph. Time enough to teach her manners later. "So my, ah, friend-" I note the cruel inflection carefully. "-Taylor. She's a chosen one. The world loves her, she gains more points than most people accrue in their lifetime just by getting good sleep over the weekend. Every now and then, I see her points start to skyrocket and I have to wander around to find the stupid plot device that's about to cement her status as the main character. Me? I'm the villain. My points edge up to twenty or so on a good day, then drop way into the negatives on a bad one. When two people fight, the one with slightly more at the time tends to have the advantage. If one has way, way more - they get an edge bordering on the impossible and absurd. The plucky underdog overcomes their rival or casually knocks down the arrogant challenger in front of their crush. That kind of story, do you follow?"

"I don't, nor do I care for the tall tales of the unwell. Reveal your true intent, parahuman."

She looks annoyed. "I am, weren't you listening? All of this exposition is for your benefit."

I sit back on my seat, drumming my fingers against the table. Fine. I'll humor her. "And when you find one of these 'plot devices'-" I throw her delusional words back in her face. "-what do you try to do to them?"

"I stop them, of course." She smiles. "But I'm not really a fighter, so don't look so worried. Let me finish explaining my powers first."

The arts of the Dragon Fist should keep my mind clear of supernatural effects, I didn't fear any Master powers - and her words about not being a fighter were true. No calluses or real muscle development, nor any caution in the way that she moved. I could snap her like a twig before she even blinked. She was underestimating me. Fine.

She continues. "Now, the obvious conclusion from that is that I must lose out in basically every encounter. That's where my other power comes in. When I get in the way of someone with a lot of points - I call them Fortune Points, by the way - I siphon some points from them to myself in another form. Fate Points. They're a currency. I can buy things with them, or just convert them directly into Fortune Points. The latter can be a waste, because the world lowers me back to where I should be over time - but it can be worth it."

"I have yet to see the part where I should have any interest in this." I stand. "I will approach the girl, and judge her for myself. Your blessing, or lack of it, is not required. Your delusions of power have no bearing on a proud master of the Dragon Fist. Stand in my path, and you shall be destroyed."

"Dragon Fist?" She quotes back at me, slamming back into the backrest of her seat in laughter. "Oh, wow! I was joking but that was really it? That's terrible." She shakes her head. "But, sure. I know what you want. This is the only bright spot you've had in your life for... six years, there about?" I jolt. That timeframe... too specific to be a coincidence. The death of my master. "Your fortune points plummeted after that. Barely scraping two hundred, until you come here and start shooting up like a rocket as the world decides it has a purpose for you other than being depressed. Five-hundred and fifty and you haven't even spoken to her yet. The power of a Chosen One, right there."

"I won't pretend to understand the outlook that your... unique perception has given you on life." I speak diplomatically. I had heard of the mental issues that certain powers can have. "But I can see you at least understand my perspective and intent. I... have no wish to destroy you, and will endeavour to teach this girl the virtues of kindness and compassion - so you need not concern yourself about the potential of her returning to crush you underfoot if you have, perhaps, wronged her."

She waves a hand in the air. "See, this is why you should just sit quietly and listen. Nobody asked for your input.  was just getting to the good part. Those points that I said I get? They're awarded based on how much I, as the villain, crush her underfoot. The better the antagonist I am, the more points I steal. I throw her lunchbox in the trash, I get ten points to myself. I ruin her year-long project and take full credit? Probably worth a few hundred." Her smile widens. "Stopping an opportunity like this one in its tracks? An easy few thousand, at the very least. Might even drop her into triple digits for a while." She cracks her neck. "And, see. I need these points to live, right? Someone with five points butting heads with someone that averages a hundred times that on the worst day of her life? I'm going to get crushed if I stop and let her recover to full, letting the plot progress as it should. No way around it."

"Even assuming I believe in your... ridiculous power-" Which I did not. "-the issue is entirely of your own making. If you did not conspire to treat her poorly, she would hold no grudge against you and you would not be harmed."

"Designated villain, remember?" The redhead taps her head. "I'll be left in the dust with this many points if she wills it or not. I've seen how others with fortune values like mine end up. Destitute and broken. Destined for poverty and a life of solitude. Besides, what are one person's feelings compared to the world? There are some ridiculously expensive items in my shop. I could just... delete an Endbringer one day. That kind of thing. I'd be the greatest hero ever, for the low, low price of one bullied schoolgirl."

Foolish child. Trying to reason where the line between the reality of her power and her own fantasies was truly a test of my wits. "That is not how this world works. The world does not reward selfishness. Everyone must earn their place in society, through hard work. I will teach her the value of such things, and show her the true nature of the world. This includes teaching her that her powers cannot save her from all harm, nor protect her from the consequences of her actions. A lesson you have clearly failed to grasp yourself."

"Oh, goody!" She claps her hands. "I love a nice little morality lesson. Always so much fun."

I grit my teeth. "You will not interfere in this matter."

"I already have." Her eyes darken, a sly smile dancing across her face. "I can buy basically anything in my shop for the right price. I dropped a pill that causes short-term memory loss into your coffee. Usually that's the cheapest way to handle these little events."

"Not only am I protected from mind-altering effects by the ceaseless flow of my will alone-" I sneer. "-that would change nothing. The presence of my chosen candidate is a matter of record now. I could hardly fail to note the presence of such a talent within my records, nor fail to note her potential should I continue my search and encounter her aura in person." I slam a fist into the table. "But if you wish to oppose me, you will find-"

I pause as the table makes an audible crack and crumbles under the blow, a split second before I rush to my feet in response to the outer wall next to us exploding - my hand effortlessly deflecting the projectile that had targeted me back out across the Bay before anyone had even finished turning their head. A cannonball of sorts? What sort of cape - because this foolishness could only be them - would utilise such a weapon and loose it over so massive a distance? My senses retrace the path of the projectile, following it back to its sender with phantom eyes that pierced all obstacles. A vehicle, a tank of some kind - smoking and flaming as lowlifes run around in a panic. An accident? I didn't detect any killing intent or malice, but nor could a shot over such massive distance be dismissed as a fluke - a trained marksman would be proud of forcing me to react with a single shot.

I return my focus to myself as the girl makes a cry of fear - falling sideways off her seat away from me. Of far more concern was the attention the series of events had drawn to me, the noise I had accidentally made due to breaking the table, immediately followed by what must have looked to the patrons of this place like me detonating the wall and then this girl shrieking in alarm. Had she set this up deliberately? I scan my surroundings again. No. The table was structurally weak from the beginning. I had simply had the ill fortune of striking it in the wrong place, it wasn't due to the direct application of a power on her part. An assassination attempt borne from her parahuman abilities then, one that had failed miserably - and now she had realised it, attempting to flee from the consequences of her actions by claiming innocence to the onlookers.

"C-Cape!" A patron yells, racing towards the exit already. I sigh. So much for a low profile, but I was no stranger to evading unwanted attention.

But this girl's acting was deliberate - and likely her powers were the cause of my ill luck. However she interpreted it, I could consider this a form of precognition. A measure of how much luck someone had during the day, and evidently, the ability to schedule misfortune. I reach down to the screaming girl, grasping her by the collar. "Cease your-"

My target is ripped from my grasp in an instant as I find myself barreled through a wall, finely honed combat instincts slicing back at my attacker with sharpened nails before my momentum carries me away and I am forced to move to mitigate the impact - landing elegantly in the open street. I pause. That... should not have happened. I was confident that I had instantly knocked my attackers away the moment they had attempted to strike me, yet I was the one to be blasted aside? And even after that, my Dragon Nails had felt distressingly little feedback when I had attempted to blind my assailant. Another unknown power, coming at the worst timing.

"Leave the girl alone, villain!" A man and a woman emerge from the new hole in the wall. Two physical fighters, likely from the local hero team. I could handle them easily, but perhaps it would be better to simply escape for the moment.

"What did I tell you, Battery." One of the costumed men lets his voice carry. "Karoake night with the team was a great idea! This isn't boring at all, I got to rescue a damsel in distress - we found a serious bad guy and we discovered that Armsmaster has a pretty sweet singing voice when he's in the right mood."

An ominous feeling fills me, the teenager's words from earlier echoing in my head. 'When they have more points, some ridiculous circumstance or coincidence happens that tilts things in their favour.' The local heroes happening to be in my general vicinity when a freak accident exposes my cover was already a hefty coincidence. I glance down at my damaged phone. That cape that had knocked me away, he had redirected my clawed attack back onto my hand somehow - and the machine safely tucked inside of my palm had paid the price for it. Too much of a coincidence. It had been silly to dismiss her ramblings out of hand, seeking alternate explanations for her apparent madness. An element of truth must be in there, and her intent to oppose me was utterly clear.

I raise my hands, making a peaceful expression. "I have no quarrel with you. This is a misunderstanding."

"Doesn't look like a misunderstanding to me, friend." The man responds jovially. "But, sure - I'll hear you out. What's the reason for you to assault that fine little lady back there? Looked pretty clear from where I was standing. We don't really appreciate out-of-towners threatening the good people of Brockton Bay on our watch, and putting a hole in our favourite diner as an intimidation tactic hasn't won you any friends with Battery either."

The woman speaks up, having apparently set the girl down to safety after investigating her for injuries. "We've been looking for someone matching your description - and we've got a lot of questions to ask about your difficulties with following the letter of the law. Why don't you make this easy for all of us and come quietly?"

That couldn't be me, not in my disguise - having yet to truly use any visible chi to reveal my real identity. Another coincidence. An entirely separate villain or criminal, acting in such a way that I was framed for their actions as well. Not hard to clear up, but not helping to ease tensions here and now. "I assure you, I'm new to this city. I have not committed any crimes here, nor do I intend to fight you. We can discuss this rationally."

Her words echo in my head. 'They're a currency. I can buy things with them, or just convert them directly into Fortune Points.' She had spoken so easily of how she could acquire them in significant quantities. How much did she have? She claimed that I was on my way to approaching a thousand myself, if her words were to be believed. Yet for circumstances to go in her favour this strongly- A chill fills me. If I was knocked out, my protection against the supposed pill she had given me would expire. My initial thought was that it was a bluff, that I would never fail to notice her slipping something in - but hadn't I been so greatly distracted by my discovery as she approached?

The unnamed girl needed to die. I couldn't let her go free to oppose me, or the future inheritor. I would have to follow her, once this situation was resolved. No more words, no more games. I needed a single instant of controlled violence - the consequences could be handled later.

My ears quirk. "His aggression just spiked." The whispered, muffled voice comes from far away - across the street where yet another Cape hides behind an unmarked van. "Murderous intent. He's calm, but he's lying about not wanting to attack anyone!" His heartbeat spikes. "He's noticed me! Enhanced senses!"

Misfortune after misfortune. No doubts could be left now, this was all the machinations of that girl. I let the dragon surge within me, eyes literally glowing with power as green lightning dances across my knuckles - the Chi surging through my veins to empower my limbs beyond mortal limits. My true form, resplendent with power.

"Villainous cape: Ryujin." The voice comes from behind me. They knew me, even if it was by that ridiculous name. "Stand down. You are wanted for questioning in relation to numerous crimes, including assaulting law enforcement officers in the execution of their duties, resisting arrest, breaching public order, vandalism of property, attempted-" I don't give the new arrival the time to finish his speech. He was buying time to surround me, and I would be a fool to allow it. He dodges my charge by flipping backwards over his vehicle. The two that had initially attacked me rushing towards me at the same time.

But they were inferior Capes. They did not earn their powers, they were given them. I had honed my body for decades, gaining a mastery of martial arts that transcended their understanding of the term. The woman is hurled towards her partner, my hand catches the rider's blade - my other hand racing out to the side to block a projectile and knock it aside. It erupts into containment foam as I spy the gunwoman on a nearby roof.

One flash step is all it takes to reach and disable her. Another takes me to the hiding spot of the boy from earlier, revealing that he was barely a child. Alas, if he had some sensory capability, I couldn't be sure my escape was successful until he was out of the picture. One strike, and he crumples over in pain - his friend to the side crying out and hurling a punch of his own towards me, as I quickly disable him too-

-too. My body meets resistance as I complete the punch, my vision instantly covered in foam and my target long-since vanished.

"Now!" I don't care to find out what their followup to this attack is, I centre myself again. Recirculating my inner energy to blast away the containment foam surrounding me- only to stumble as a wave of confusion and despair hits me. Five melee fighters surround me now. The earlier three now joined by another pair of heroes - one in a tiger-like costume, the other floating in the air with a dangerously crackling spear pointed at me. This was bad, and for some reason, my battle spirit had left me.

"I don't like leaving things to chance. If it's a bad situation, a small advantage in points will just turn it into a loss to be proud of. You give the bully a black eye even as you get knocked out, you do better than everyone expected before flagging at the end of the race. You need a massive advantage to be confident in any situation, which means being wasteful with points." The girl's voice, even as distant as it is - reaches my sharpened ears with ease, even in the midst of my frenzied dance amid the fighters surrounding me. "But it's worth it, not leaving any room for error. Blessed people like you, you don't even realise what the world lets you get away with just because of who you are. Normal people, even Capes, don't just shrug off the idea of fighting an entire Protectorate team that they didn't even bother to research. If our points were more equivalent, you would be discovering what a truly fair fight was for the first time in your life. You wouldn't be any weaker, but you'd be sweating at the possibility of a defeat at the very least."

That girl. I had to get her. Had to get the successor. Had to stay conscious, flee or fight - whatever I did, I needed to win here. "Silence!" Green races to my outstretched fist. "If I am fated to lose, then so be it - this is the fist that shatters fate! That defies all expectations set for me! I was outcast at birth for my supposed weakness, and yet here I am! The man that stands before you is the pride of the Dragon Fist!" The fire engulfs me as I resume the frenzied melee, trying to recover my disrupted focus. I'm slower, but the trick used to weaken me is rapidly fading - the feeling of helplessness that dulled my spirit slowly fading away.

"That's the worst thing I've heard all year." Derision drips from her distant voice. She knows I can hear her. "The fist that shatters fate. Really? Your fate was always to win. Thrown out by your family, whatever. Typical, cliche, sad backstory to justify an overpowered character. You think Taylor getting bullied at school is just bad luck? No, it's a backstory. Or, it was - until I got the power to leech off of her and keep her like that. You were always destined to win the fights that you did, every underdog win - every success and triumph was handed to you on a platter, whether you knew it or not. You crushed people who tried harder and deserved it more, only because your silly number was larger than theirs." The boy from earlier raises his hands, this time - I see the blast coming, too late to dodge. Weakness fills me again, a steady sense of horror overcoming my limitless energy. "Only, now you're feeling the story put its focus on you when you're the schmuck with less Fortune Points. I boosted my points at a disgustingly inefficient exchange rate, ran into a situation where we were bound to clash and like clockwork, everything started going wrong for you. Now, you're facing a hard-counter to your abilities and getting a sorely needed reality check. Too bad."

Emotional manipulation. That was it. I realise too late, the blasts from the boy weren't purely physical - they were mental as well. Bypassing my protections, and scattering the tight mental focus required to control and circulate my power. The odds of running into such an individual, under hostile circumstances, under purest coincidence that he happened to be in the area and capable of responding - then also for his ally to use his own power to allow his blast to land... I couldn't tell if it was true or not that the girl truly hadn't planned it out deliberately over the course of months via precognition, but either way her power was closer to the Simurgh than anything else. A terrifying grasp of the future and its possibilities, whether she could choose to direct it or not.

"It's not impossible for me to take points from someone that isn't a Chosen One. It just usually isn't worth it. Normal people that the story doesn't care much about, they don't even notice if their fortune points are high or low that day. I could spend days on end trying to drop them to the negatives and they would just step in a deep puddle and cry that they dropped their phone in the toilet, but nothing serious would happen - a consistently low value would lead them down a slippery slope, but a normal person doesn't have as much to lose by being put at the same level as a... slightly less lucky normal person." Malice drips from her tongue like poison. "But when a guy like you goes down to even a normal level of Fortune for someone else, something's gotta give eventually - there's too much of a difference from what was expected, the world will continuously try to correct it. If you can shoot lasers from your eyes, have the immense riches of your ancestors backing you up or a small army loyal only to you just a phone call away, you'd have to lose a lot to be considered on the same level as some office worker with a failing marriage down the street."

Her speech would be her downfall. There was a casual arrogance to it, like a cat toying with a mouse - but I had encountered many such beasts in the shape of men before - and I had always found a way to turn the tide. However desperate the situation seemed, I could do this. Someone would intervene - or I would achieve a sudden breakthrough in my skills. That was fundamentally who I was - a warrior, fighting to the top until the bitter end. Overcoming all odds without giving up.

"But that's the fun of my power. Your loss this time might be solely because of a temporary difference in our points, but things only happened this way as a result of my actions. You not only lose by repeatedly butting heads with me and plotting to murder me, getting foiled at every turn - but each time you do, you lose even more of your points to me thanks to my power. Let's add it up. Tricked and deceived by a little girl. Exposed as a violent thug to local law enforcement. Beaten by the heroes and imprisoned. Losing your chance at training your heir. Shaming your elders or whatever with your actions and utterly failing to pass on your teachings... quite the bounty of points for me. I might manage to break even, which is a rarity for events like this. My thanks - and my commiserations, being in the negatives is a miserable experience for anyone. Take it from me."

"No!" The world darkens, I can almost sense my memory fading in real time as the girl's drug starts to take its effect. "I can't fail-"

"You already have." There's a vicious undercurrent of hate in her voice now. "And don't go thinking that your points will recover, and you can come back to handle me when my points get dropped back down to normal. Your role in the story is done - failed. Taylor might continuously bounce back from any loss in points, but you'll have to be content with living the rest of your life with a below-average Fortune. I'm pretty sure there's only so many ways for someone with as much power as you to get screwed that hard, so enjoy the Birdcage - it's the only thing that will keep you alive and un-crippled."

My voice, and my vision fails me. Darkness, filled only by one, final voice as the last of my Chi fades from my ears.

My soul sight is the last thing to fail me. "One more down. Let that be a lesson for you." An evil, smile in the dark. A manic glint in her eyes. A slight flush in the cheeks. "She's mine!"