Amelia, 1.1:
Amy ran like she'd never run before. With a determined sense of purpose more at home on the face of a soldier than a teenage girl. With as many liberties as had been taken with her physiology, she really wasn't capable of any other expression. Her body was well beyond human ability right now. She could have fought most parahumans. If not to victory, then at least she could have forced them to work for it. If it were any other opponent, she would have turned and fought.
But she wasn't 'most parahumans'. She was running from the Siberian. Not something one could actually fight against. Even powerhouses like the Triumvirate could do little more than slow her down and retreat. Amy was a lot of things packed into a small package right now. She was not the Triumvirate. It would be insane to believe she could win. She wasn't trying to. She was trying to flee. A goal that was looking less and less likely as the fight continued.
Still, she had a few advantages to let her at least try to escape. Brute... three, maybe? With a healthy amount of Mover. Even a bit of Stranger, in the form of stealth camouflage not terribly different than that of certain species of Cephalopods. She needed every advantage that could be wedged into a human body. And more.
Siberian lunged, passing through the concrete wall of a building like it was little more than tissue paper. Amy rolled to the side before leaping hard. She had boosted senses, too, of a sort. Probably worth Thinker 2. Not enough for this fight, as Siberian grasped her ankle, arresting her movement. Then tugging down- not even pulling, simple an effortless wrist motion that slammed Amy to the ground. The madwoman smiled at the girl who struggled to break the grip. If you could call the hungry look on her face a smile.
It was an exercise in futility, really, her attempts to break Siberian's grip. To imagine such a thing was possible would have been insanity. Siberian held the girl by the arm. Amy was already missing two fingers. She held her hand almost gently as she pried the middle finger straight, using the same casual, absolute strength that allowed her to walk through buildings with no difficulty.
Amy snarled- and it was a snarl. Animalistic and enraged. No longer human. She started punching Siberian in the side of the head repeatedly with her free hand. Bonelike protrusions extended from her knuckles, sharper than shark teeth. Enough force to shatter bone. To crack concrete. Perhaps even leave dents in steel. Not enough to make the monster let go. Or even distract her a little.
The nude woman slowly parted her lips and took Amy's middle finger into her mouth. It was an almost sensual movement. The actions of someone savoring a delicacy. It could have been mistaken for erotic, even, had the circumstances been different. Very different. She bit down on the finger, severing it.
The flesh carried a deadly organic compound that had never even been named. A poison that likely never existed on earth naturally, although it did have some similarity to Botulinum. The Siberian just swallowed enough to kill every nonpowered human being on the planet twice over.
Then she simply paused and let Amy go. It wasn't because of the poison. No, I thought. That would be too damn easy. It was part of her fucking game. A twisted form of cat and mouse. Three captures so far, and absolutely no way of knowing how many more until the bitch just killed her for failing the test. She leapt up again while the monster simply stood and watched. If it were anything like the last times, she'd have thirty seconds before the chase began again. She used that time to get to the top of the small office complex.
Her lungs were far superior to anything human, but they were struggling to pull in enough oxygen to keep her body moving at this speed. She even breathed through her skin. A fun little mod stolen from Aegis. Most of her physiology was at least indirectly copied from the bizarre twist of an Alexandria package. Amy wasn't tired. Could go for days without getting tired. But, then, so could her pursuer. And even if Amy wasn't tired, her body was losing efficiency. Organic systems, however close to perfect they might be, had limits. Siberian seemingly did not.
She watched as her pursuer started climbing up the building after her. Not flying, I decided. That's a good sign. Not in any real rush, I added. That's a bad sign. At least if the bitch seemed to be in a hurry, it would suggest they were near the time limit for this test. How long until they decided she'd won this match?
Siberian paused on a ledge, crouching, even shifting her hips like a cat as she looked straight up at Amy's position atop the building. Then she leapt, clearing several stories in seconds.
Amy was saved only by superhuman reflexive instincts built into her, falling away from Siberian and leaping off the roof backwards- traveling horizontally. Only to be followed a half second later. Then Amy's shirt exploded into ribbons as a pair of pterodactyl like wings spread out and allowed her to veer off course. Siberian might even have been slightly annoyed at having to spend several seconds traveling the wrong direction before she slammed into the side of an abandoned warehouse.
Of course, that was probably just wishful thinking.
Amy didn't have much time to worry about it. Or consider her (lack of) modesty, for that matter. Not that there'd be anything to consider immodest. Her body was basically sexless. Every organ or gland that wasn't necessary had been removed. That mass and area instead being used for the vastly more important function of staying alive as long as possible in this fight.
She flapped the wings a few times, angling toward another roof. Her body was still inhibited by the laws of physics, if not the conventions of biochemistry. And winged flight just wasn't possible for something the size of a human. Especially one who happened to weight about 300 pounds after everything was factored. At best, they were useful to help control her fall.
And then the rocks started coming. She avoided most of the barrage, but Siberian was simply digging her hands into the concrete and flinging chunks of it at her. The first one that hit tore through her left wing, leaving her more or less screwed as she plummeted. The wing was already restitching itself. Some others collided with the layer of scales which functioned as her organic body armor. Easily bulletproof. But these rocks were a lot heavier than most bullets, and traveling just as fast. They left dents, even actual cracks, in the protection.
Siberian moved toward her. With the damage that had been done to her body, she had no chance of evading the unstoppable force masquerading as a woman. She resigned herself to losing another finger- it's not like she could feel pain right now. And put her effort into repairing as much damage to her important parts instead.
And then the cloud formed around her, blanketing the area. Except... too dark to be a cloud. And it moved, was alive... bugs? Skitter is here!? Amy's camouflage kicked in, mottled blacks and browns and grays. Blending with the swarm.
In spite of myself, I smiled.Amelia, 1.2:
With the benefits of Skitter's swarm, Amy stood an actual chance of winning this. Which was as much a curse as it was a blessing. She isn't intended to win. But, I decided. It would serve my purpose as much as anything else would. Siberian crossed the distance absurdly fast, diving into the bugs. Amy had already dived off the side, having grabbed a few bugs to stuff into her pants pockets. Something to allow Skitter to track her.
Skitter wasn't exactly my best friend. In fact, the girl was my second least favorite person that wasn't actively trying to kill me. But this was Siberian. Probably the most dangerous of the Slaughterhouse Nine. Other than Bonesaw, of course. I was willing to work with her on this.
Amy had dropped down into the building itself- exploiting the cover of bugs, and simply disolving a hole in the roof. Siberian would no doubt find it, soon enough. But Skitter was running excellent interference. She'd covered the roof with insects that hid the tunnel she'd made. And even tricked Siberian into leaving the roof to chase something.
Amy had no way of knowing how that was accomplished. She rushed down the stairs of the building. Like most of this part of town, abandoned. Even on the second floor there was water damage, a reminder of Leviathan's visit. As if such a monster would ever be forgotten.
The building rumbled around Amy. Shuddered. How? Why? A question answered as quickly as I thought to ask it. The Siberian stepped into view, dragging her hand through the stone wall. She's going after the supports, I realized.
Amy bolted for a window, and dived. Only to be stopped cold. Siberian had stopped moving. Smiling. Amy was trapped in the building by whatever power Siberian used to make things invulnerable.
Such a damned unfair power.
Amy didn't speak. Couldn't speak, actually. That was another system sacrificed for superior combat applications. Not that it made the least bit of difference against her.
Amy simply shrugged, making eye contact with the monster standing at the only valid entrance. And walked toward her. It was a slow walk, a walk calculated to buy just a little more time. But a walk, nonetheless. Her body mending. The spine she'd broken colliding with the impervious glass slowly patched itself back together. She stopped, only a foot or so away from the much taller woman and held out her hand.
Siberian seemed almost surprised by the action. Tilting her head sideways while maintaining the unblinking eye contact with Amy's face. This might even be a first for her, I thought.
Of her many, many victims, she'd no doubt seen surrender. A victim simply give up and accept death. But this wasn't that. Amy wasn't giving up. wasn't going to stop fighting. But this "round" was lost and they both knew it. She'd trapped herself. Siberian blocked the only way out, and made it impossible to create another one.
Siberian watched her. Amy watched back. Neither blink. Neither moved, not even to breathe, like two statues. More and more of Skitter's bugs started climbing on them. Testing, probing, probably trying to figure out just what the ever loving hell was going on here.
And then Siberian accepted the proffered hand. She didn't grasp Amy's wrist this time, and Amy didn't resist. Siberian was faster than her, stronger than basically anyone, and they were in close quarters... she knew she couldn't escape. Siberian bit off her pointer finger, then stepped aside, allowing Amy to climb through the person shaped hole left in the wall.
Taking to the air hadn't helped. Hiding in buildings definitely wouldn't work. So Amy ran on foot. Behind her, the chemical chain reaction started.
Siberian vomited liquid flame seconds later. A thermite bomb going off inside her stomach. Basic chemistry, really. It was mostly made of iron, a chemical found in abundance in most animals. Converting it to weapon form was far easier than keeping it from igniting prematurely. Amy didn't look back, didn't check to see if she'd succeeded as she weaved between buildings.
A cloud of black formed an arrow pointing her to the left, into an alleyway. Skitter? Did bug girl have a plan? Amy's goal was to buy time. Make this fight take as long as possible. Skitter, on the other hand, fought to *win*. No matter what it took. The idea of actually winning against Siberian was absurd, of course... but if this plot worked to buy even a few more seconds, it was worth it.
Amy turned, running as fast as she could- which, she guessed, was around 40 miles an hour. She slowed down when she realized she was outracing the swarm... she didn't want to lose the camouflage, especially as bug copies of herself were being sent out in all kinds of directions.
Siberian smashed through one, a couple blocks away, moving faster than she'd yet revealed she could. And proving that steel melting levels of heat inside her own stomach were no threat. A thrown rock passed through another. Siberian's plan was obvious, at least. Every cloud she confirmed was a cloud, she didn't have to run after.
The bugs formed an arrow down. Unfortunately, it wasn't in time, as a stone slammed into Amy's back and sent her rolling. So much for superhuman reflexes. It meant the Siberian found her as well.
Amy pushed herself up as Siberian got close, planting her feet in the woman's face and launching herself away. Siberian couldn't be moved. But her momentum could be added to Amy's. Even if the impact force broke one of her legs. Wings helped stabilize and keep her moving. She was, at least for a few seconds, actually faster than the Siberian.
Then she was plunged into darkness. The whole area was. And she collapsed.
The darkness opened around her, and she sat up. Grue spoke. "Listen, we don't have a lot of time. We discovered Siberian is a projection. Like Crusader's ghosts. We're trying to find her creator. Should be nearby. Are you okay?"
That was interesting information to have. Of course, the question was stupid, and Amy couldn't even answer it. She opened her mouth, patted her throat, and then shook her head. She didn't know sign language. Then again, Grue probably didn't either.
"Fuck, she can't talk," he said. Into a radio?
"Siberian's coming back. Get out of there!" Was the reply back. Grue's darkness started to spread out again as he reached for Amy. She leapt straight up. Avoiding his hand, avoiding his power that somehow rendered her inactive. The enhanced hearing had saved her. At least her leg had mended, but she couldn't be caught in the dark field again. She bounced off one building, then another, gaining height. She even made it to the roof before Siberian landed next to her.
She'd lost four fingers already. The fifth would probably be the last. No more time to buy.
Enough adrenaline to kill a bull elephant flooded into Amy's system. Coupled with drugs that would have made the Merchants nervous. Variants on meth, PCP, and stuff that didn't even have names. She moved. Fast. Ducking under the Siberian's blows and getting a few in, herself. A blow to the kidney that would have been lethal to a normal person.
She had to jump and back flipped over Siberian's retaliating sweep. It was a startling revelation. But Siberian didn't actually know how to fight. For all her speed, all her strength, she was sloppy. Untrained. Amy, at least, had the benefits of some self defense. One of Victoria's ideas... started before they even had powers... but that wasn't something to dwell on right now.
And under these circumstances, Amy's body pushed this far. Suicidally far, there would be no surviving whether or not Siberian got to her. Amy was a faster. Smarter. More efficient. If it were any other, it would be a curb stomp. Siberian lunged. Overextended. No strategy, no style, no control. Amy stepped aside, struck her in the base of the skull with enough force to shatter concrete.
Siberian twisted, Amy kicked her in the back of the knee. Either blow would have dropped almost anybody else. The cloud of bugs got thicker and thicker- probably to give Amy a chance to retreat. But there was no point, it was already a suicide mission. Still, it blinded Siberian. It didn't blind Amy.
Siberian lashed out with her claws, only to catch air and insects. A chunk of concrete collided with her face. And disintegrated. No longer playing softball, her head moved forward, melting the stone. And Amy's hand.
Amy moved back, but she was already tiring. Ligaments had torn. Muscle had started bleeding internally. Her body was a wreck. It was a small miracle that only one of her hearts had stopped beating.
She collapsed. Siberian stalked forward, observing the fallen girl. She'd won. She KNEW she'd won. The Undersiders had, apparently, saw fit to retreat as the bug clouds started to dissipate. Abandoning the fight. And Amy with it. Well, it wasn't anything I hadn't expected.
Amy looked up at the woman. The unkillable projection. Who knelt down and grabbed her neck. No... not grabbed... just touched. Two fingers. She... was checking her pulse? She looked... disappointed? Sad?
One last attempt, then. Amy's body exploded with enough electrical power to overload a city block. It ripped through her- even though she had optimized organ systems to conduct the power. Lancing through her arm, and into Siberian's leg. The bleedoff cooking what few organs still functioned. Siberian, at least, survived. Amy did not.
Below. Far below. I groaned as I forced myself out of the cocoon. The system still needed muscle feedback, and I was now regretting how out of shape I was.
I hesitated for a second, slipping my feet into my filthy, wet, and now cold sneakers. I made it worse shortly thereafter, stepping down into the sewer system. Sinking into the muck, surrounded by the smells, it was all I could do not to vomit. But I needed the skin contact to alter biomass. And I'd need a lot of biomass. Besides, I reminded myself. I belong down here in the filth.
I sloshed forward, leaving modified life with each step. Seeding it into the sewage. It would grow. I was dimly aware that what I was doing violated everything I had promised Carol and Mark. That thought seemed so insignificant to me, now.
"Goodbye, Amy," I whispered to no one in particular. "I'm sorry. I can't pretend to be you any longer."Amelia, 1.3: Victoria Interlude.
"Glory Girl?"
"Yeah!" I said, my head snapping up. I'd been drifting again.
"You understand the plan, right?" Legend. The Legend. And he sounded a little annoyed at me. A week ago, that would have meant something to me. Now? All I could think about was her. And trying not to think about her.
"We distract the S9 until the bombs are dropped. Clock and Cache keep us alive. Then we pray like hell that shit you got from Bakuda can stop Crawler," I didn't bother hiding the annoyance in my voice, however.
Legend just looked at me. I looked right back. I could tell he wanted to say more. I wanted him to. Scold me. Yell at me. Give me a reason to yell back. I pleaded in my head. Anything to distract me. Please?
He didn't. He looked like he wanted to, the concern on his face reminded me of my father. When I was younger. When he was having a good day, and I wasn't. Well, thanks to that bitch that had the gall to call herself my sister, there'd be a LOT of days like that in the future.
"It's time to go," Legend replied. "Make sure you're fully suited up."
I just nodded. I wasn't part of the Wards. Not really. Although as badly damaged as New Wave was... it was pretty much a certainty that I'd be joining, and Crystal would join the Protectorate. Mom and Dad hadn't given official permission, yet. In fact, Mom had flipped out in response. But they would concede to it in the end. They'd have to. I needed it and they knew that.
I pulled the hood up over my head. The protective suit was fireproof. And deliberately designed to make it impossible for the Nine to tell us from one another. Didn't make any difference in my case. I was one of the locals. But it means Legend and his team could participate fully in the fight, and that was worth almost any discomfort.
And it was a lot of discomfort. My forcefield rubbing against the suit made it shift and bunch up in strange ways. If I tightened it as much as I'd like to, it would break when I activated my powers. And if I kept it loose to account for the shield, then it was floppy and ill fitted.
The inside of the suit smelled of rubber and plastic and the aroma of not terribly clean person. That person, I was aware, was myself. I hadn't slept well in a while. It had been a couple days since I took a shower. Everything reminded me of her. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her face. Even seeing my own nude form made me think of how much I wanted...
FUCK DAMMIT NO!!!
Have to focus. Something else. Anything else. How she betrayed me. Violated me. My trust. My love. Turned it into this mess. I clenched my fist and cursed the suit yet again. I couldn't even dig my fingernails into my palm. Pain was one of the few things that didn't remind me of her. There was one blessing of this damn suit... I couldn't feel the wind brushing across my skin. Now, even that made my thoughts drift... there. Couldn't let me have any pleasure left in my life, could you, sister?
We rushed off toward the battle zone. One of the more damaged parts of the city. "Dolltown" as it was now being referred to. Parian's territory.
All of us were movers, though I had to go slowly all considered. Other than Legend, I was the fastest here.
How much easier it would be to run off. Go in early. I could take on Jack. Or Mannequin. Or Bonesaw. Crawler would be a bit much. And the less I thought about what Siberian could do, the better. But I could avoid them. Tear up the others. I'd never killed before... never wanted to. Even if I had wanted to, I'd have been too scared to. But now? Now I really, really wanted to. I could rip someone apart, one limb at a time, and love every second of it.
And if it were one of them? I could do it on live national television and be applauded as a hero.
Legend was first to spot the wrecked van, surrounded by people in costume. I focused through blurry eyes. Grue. Tattletale. Skitter. Two I didn't know. The Undersiders. I watched as Legend pointed toward them. And I hoped he would just wipe them out. They deserved it. Especially Tattletale. She knew this would happen. That's how her goddamn power works.
Alas, it didn't happen. Words formed. Made of bugs. Fucking creepy ass Skitter... I had nightmares about her power. How her bugs tore into me. Now I relished in the memory. The pain and fear were distractions.
It took me a second to register the words. 'SIBERIAN DEAD'. I was the only one who didn't gasp. Siberian took on the Triumvirate, all of them, and won. Some barely significant group of thieves managed to kill her? How!?!
I was glad the concealing visor hid my smirk. Well, at least now I don't have to feel bad about losing to them.
Legend turned to drop down, followed by the rest of the team. This was a story they had to hear.
Their group was near the vehicle. There was sign of fire nearby, even some molten asphalt. The vehicle seemed undamaged, save for the part where it had run into the side of a building.
Grue had a hand on Skitter's shoulder. She was looking at the ground. Shaking. The unknowns, in their red and black costumes, were standing near one another off to the side. They didn't seem comfortable getting involved, either way. Not part of the team. Even up close, I didn't recognize them. Mercenaries, perhaps? Bounty hunters? The Nine had quite a price on their heads. Millions of dollars per confirmed kill. Nationwide fame. Some people were crazy enough to try. Maybe they had the power that killed Siberian. Sobering thought.
Tattletale stepped forward, of course. Always the mouthpiece. I activated the com. "She's tricky. Can get into your head. Pull out your darkest secrets using nothing but body language or quirks in your voice or expression. Don't give her any clues. Probably already figured out who we are and what I told you."
Legend responded back, of course. "Right. Everyone else hold back. I'll do the talking. I'm used to dealing with powerful Thinkers."
I landed, lining up with the others, a few feet behind Legend. He walked forward.
Tattletale smiled at me. I wanted to break her face. I... wow, that is one hell of a scar. Wonder how that happened. An image flashed unbidden, of Amy's delicate fingers caressing Tattletale's face. Removing the damage. A dozen emotions pushed to the surface. Love. Desire. Jealousy. And I crushed them down again. Rage, indignation, disgust. One simple slip of concentration was all it took. Had to stay angry, had to stay focused.
They'd been talking. We were of course listening, neither was being quiet, and Legend left his com on.
"... like Crusader. Or, as I'm sure you've already figured out, Genesis." Tattletale finished.
"You're certain?" Legend asked.
"Of course," Tattletale replied. "If I had any doubt, we'd have hidden the body. Or had Sundancer destroy it. The fact that we're here, letting you know, proves we're certain. Besides, whatever you want to say about us, we wouldn't violate a Class-S truce like that."
I saw Battery tense. And if I saw it, Tattletale probably just learned half of her life's story.
"I'd like to see the body," Legend replied, with a studied, even wooden, level of control. Smart, probably. He doesn't think he could trick her, so he didn't even try.
"It's in bad shape," Tattletale warned, but she didn't try to stop him. He opened the door and paused for a minute.
"Cause of death?" He asked.
Skitter spoke up. She had obviously been crying. Her voice was raw. "I... I didn't have any choice. H... he." She collapsed into Grue's chest. Crying openly. Was this the same girl that had seemed so ruthless at the bank? That had stood up to the full force of my aura and threatened dozens of of people with fucking black widows? She seemed so fragile. So vulnerable. Like Am... NO!
"I've never killed before," she finished. I only heard her due to the com link. Really good tech, probably tinker.
Legend let down his guard when he spoke. Genuine sympathy. "No one doubts that you did the right thing," he said. "Siberian is one of the most dangerous beings on the planet. I know that's not much comfort. You're not the only one who's been through something like this."
"His power didn't work on himself," Tattletale interrupted. "Skitter identified the vehicle and got several wasps and spiders into the van before she started shielding it. Siberian had to choose between blocking Sundancer's power, or stopping the insects. And, no, I don't know why this person who's obviously male created a female projection. I would rather not speculate."
Legend was examining the evidence. Cameras were built into the suits, recording everything.
"How did you come to this conclusion that Siberian was a projection?" Legend asked. Back to business mode. Not a wooden as before. Commanding.
"Cherish. You already know we captured her. She's been quite talkative."
"Torture?" Legend's voice didn't sound all that unhappy. Though there was no hint of approval, either.
"No, actually," Tattletale responded. "She likes playing mind games. And has let stuff slip. That and she legitimately wants us to stop the rest of the Nine."
"Do you mean she was forced to join their team?"
"Not even a little bit. Cherish is every bit as twisted and fucked up as her father, Heartbreaker. Probably more. But she is absolutely terrified that Jack is angry at her, and that he'll let Bonesaw have her. She wants us to win. For her own self preservation."
"I'll admit. Your story sounds believable," Legend stated.
"But..." Tattletale responded.
"But," Legend agreed. He didn't go into greater detail.
"You'll have half the thinkers in the Protectorate crawling all over the recordings you've been taking. Want to hold a debriefing. Whole nine yards. We can discuss specifics after the rest of the Nine are gone."
"Of course, we have more pressing concerns," Legend agreed. "We're heading toward Crawler and, presumably, the rest of the Nine right now. I'll send some PRT troops to secure this location. We can talk in detail later."
Tattletale nodded as Legend started to lift off.
She looked toward me. "Wait!" she shouted.
I paused. I want to hit her so bad.
"You deserve to know. When we found Siberian, she was hunting Amy," Tattletale continued. Every muscle in my body went rigid, and the protective suit was being strained by my shield. My aura even bled through, effecting Tattletale, forcing her to look away. Serves the bitch right. "We couldn't save her in time."
I fought down every emotion. Every memory. I couldn't stop myself from shaking. I couldn't stop the water running from my eyes. It took all of my efforts, all of my strength, to choke out a single, cold, word. "Good."
And then I rocketed off toward the battlefield, fighting to see through my tears. Struggling to convince myself that I wasn't lying.