City of Deka, planet Myridia
One of the advantages of a planet where anyone can make ten thousand copies of himself whenever he wants is that it's very easy to have a policeman on every street corner.
Officer Lar is patrolling the busy streets of Deka, when he sees the explosion on one of the top floors of the many skyscrapers.
As usual in case of emergency, most of the duplicates in the street disappear. Any duplicate can disappear at will, and most do once they have completed their purpose.
Officer Lar is a duplicate, of course: all policemen walking the streets are. He creates another couple of duplicates to check on the few civilians remaining in the area, and another one to enter the building. If the Oracles hadn't declared radio communications to be a blasphemous offence to Demeter, he could alert headquarters. But like most people on Myridia, he can rely only himself and his ten thousand duplicates.
The main door explodes, hitting the duplicate with enough force to make it disappear with a loud popping sound. Officer Lar would think it resembles a chewing gum bubble exploding, if the Oracles hadn't banned chewing gum decades earlier.
He holds his trusty spear, standard issue for any kind of law enforcement on Myridia, and creates enough duplicates to be ready for anything coming out of the building.
Silver eyes glow in the dark. Then a teenage girl steps into the light, holding a makeshift gun. Possession of unlicensed weapons is a capital crime on Myridia, meaning it would be perfectly legal for Officer Lar to stab her in the chest at this very moment.
But she's just a kid, not much older than his own daughter. He decides to go easy on her.
He smiles, hoping to calm her down. Any crime is punishable by death on Myridia, so he's seen enough lost lives already. She cocks the gun.
She fires. There's no bullet coming out of the gun: just a fierce burst of wind, enough to lift seven duplicates off the ground and let them fall helplessly to the ground.
This would be enough to make normal duplicates disappear, but Lar has trained extensively to make sure his duplicates can withstand anything short of a lethal blow.
Officer Lar grabs his spear, dusts himself off, and creates another twenty duplicates; all of them charge towards the girl, roaring their warring cry.
People on the street watch the girl shoot all of them with deadly accuracy; none of the officers are able to lay a finger on her. They're just common people who lived all their lives in a warped theocracy, sure to be killed on the spot if they ever dared to rebel.
The girl with the silver eyes lifts her weapon to the sky; hundreds of Deka citizens are looking at her, from the street and the skyscraper windows, and hear her shout:
It the streets were busy before, all of a sudden they're positively jammed. Thousands upon thousands of people pop into existence without warning, wishing to see with as many eyes as possible what is going on.
Torn inhales sharply, before shouting:
His hands release thousands upon thousands of red energy daggers, flying at incredible speed in every direction. The daggers carefully avoid any original Myridian, hitting instead all of their duplicates. For a bird's eye view, the streets have been made almost completely desert by a red wave of death originating from Torn.
Max Black whistles, impressed by the insane display of power and skill of his unlikely ally, and turns his body back from X-rays to human flesh.
It doesn't take much to fill them again, this time with thousands upon thousands of policemen charging towards the invaders, each carrying a metal spear.
There's a dozen originals in this district, each of them capable to create ten thousand duplicates, and they're facing three prime foreigners and a Myridian girl. This means it's 120.000 versus 10.003.
Vesta keeps a defensive position, allowing spears to break against her indestructible body and occasionally melting them with her fire.
Torn and Kari prefer hand to hand combat: the red skinned man with his energy swords and brutal efficiency, while the purple haired girl shows off her incredible agility and coordination.
The original Kari is no better than a normal human, but thanks to her duplicates it's like fighting hundreds of perfectly synchronized and choreographed martial artists.
Max Black is taking care of most of the battle, however. He cycles between one energy form to another, keeping down their numbers. The twelve originals can generate new duplicates instantaneously after one has been destroyed. But they're facing lightning, lasers, microwaves, fire, energy swords, daggers, blades, and even the girl refuses to be defeated.
Myridian security has only one strategy: attack with unrelenting determination and the enemy will eventually wear down and fall.
Whoever these people are, two hundred thousand spears aren't enough to make them break a sweat.
Two hundred thousand duplicates disappear, and twelve spears fall to the ground.
<-It's not over yet> Vesta warns her, pointing towards the immense crowd that is walking towards them. They're civilians, and they're led by a girl with silver eyes.
Despite its power, the Demeter regime is wildly unpopular. People have been waiting for decades for someone to rise against her and the Oracles, but the prospect of fighting telekinetic demigods has always prevented any sort of uprising.
Null has watched the fight from afar; Deka may be a large city, but two hundred thousand soldiers take a lot of space. And she saw the look on the Myridians when they finally saw in action people who have a chance of standing up to the Oracles.
"That was AWESOME!!! Did you see when Vesta kicked the ground so hard the whole street was shaking? And when Max shot laser with one hand and lightning with the other? And when the red dude hit five people right between the eyes with his daggers? At the same time!?"
"Yes, Noriko, I saw that. We are the same person, remember? You can see only what I can see."
"Y'know what that means, right? We're going home!!!"
"And of course I'm the one who's going to figure out how."
"Do you ALWAYS have to be all gloom and doom?"
"Shut up Nori. This isn't the time to argue with alternate personalities."
The purple haired girl is running towards her, untying a leather jacket from her waist. She may have risked her life, but the look on her face is unmistakable: this is the best day of her life.
She kneels before Null, like a knight paying his respects to the queen, offering the jacket as tribute.
The leather jacket is an horrible shade of green, but right now it's the most precious gift imaginable.
Max greets her, offering a high five.
Then Max asks the question on everybody's mind:
Null wears the jacket, immediately reaching for one of the inside pockets. She recovers the prototype N-Phone that was ready to hit the market before her disappearance, and connects it to the Genius Gun. She knew making the gun compatible with her previous inventions was a long shot, but it pays to be ready for anything.
The phone's holographic projector creates a large black Ø symbol in the sky, visible within several miles from Deka. The hologram resonates with the air molecules, creating a booming voice:
Above the city, a man drops out of supersonic speed. Crossing his arms, he slowly descends to the ground like a disappointed parent ready to lecture his kids. He floats above the crowd, raising his voice to be heard; the jewel in his throat is glowing.
All of a sudden, the crowd's will to rebel against the system is fading; the cold eyes of this man wearing an elaborate black cloak are enough to make them shiver in fear.
<"Null City"?> the crowd wonders.
<"Vanguard"? We have a team name now?> Max wonders.
<"Surrender"?> the Oracle repeats, pronouncing the world like it's the most hilarious ever heard.
Without lifting a finger he telekinetically rips the road off the ground, together with Noriko and her allies.
Null pulls the trigger, releasing the power of the Genius Gun: the Oracle is thrown against the nearest skyscraper, where if it wasn't for his telekinetic shield he would've been squashed like a bug against a windscreen.
The road falls with a roaring sound, almost as loud as the cheers of Myridians.