Fugly Bob's:
As I sat at the corner table, eating a juicy, grilled burger special with fries, I sensed the occasional 'discreet' glances of curious patrons- few as they were due to my alter-ego's attacks. The attention was not entirely unwanted. In fact, I might've been a bit insulted if my shiny new appearance didn't get any take-two's. I could taste the emotions in the air- jealousy, desire, lust, admiration, and begrudging respect. Was this what Bruce Wayne felt when he went out into town without the mask? The joy of breaking bones and hospitalising criminals, and then taking the cape and mask off to pretend to be a normal human being, donating to charities, and ending it all with a babe in your bed.
I softly smiled back at the waitress, who blushed and walked back to the counter as quickly as she could manage. Yeah, I could understand why he'd want to keep up the charade, though I'd imagine Batman would vehemently disagree with my methods.
While I helped myself to the ringlet-cut fries by dipping them into the barbecue sauce and savouring the crunch of the light crispy coating, I simultaneously reached out to the power network operating under Reaper. Had I not had the mental backing of Bastion, the sheer breadth of the sea of powers I stole from the Entities would've caused my mind to keel over and flow out my ears.
The power I was looking for stood apart from the rest- a large, glossy black and grey marble with stark white streaks that looked like writhing veins the more closely one observed. Three of the white streaks manifested outside the alien marble as smooth tentacles that passed through the black fabric of reality beneath it. I instinctively knew which of these was attached to which world-destroying monster.
Reaching out to touch the one I needed to communicate with, I was taken aback by the overwhelmingly positive feedback from the winged terror.
Gleeful. Joyful. New Leader. Eager. Orders? The Simurgh sent out a series of images and benign psionic signals communicating her salutations and query. The Hopekiller was eager to receive new orders since the old ones were no longer applicable.
Honestly, what was I even expecting? For the Endbringers to resist me? No, I knew they were mine, but that small part of me- that human from a different Earth- was the one who had been slightly apprehensive. It was one thing to use powers, and another thing entirely to have an AI drone entity with powers of its own at my command.
Breaking out of my reverie, I commanded the Simurgh to locate the Travelers, making sure to note down how she did what she did. After perking up and expressing her excitement for a picosecond, she went to work.
She did not move from where she hovered in low orbit, she did not twitch nor did she uncurl from the fetal position, yet her precognition accurately simulated North America for the next 24 hours.
Boston. The Travelers were in Boston, working on a contract for the Elite. They would've remained there until Coil contacted them and sold them his false promises. As this would not come to pass- they would move on to Philadelphia, carefully avoiding New York.
Speaking of the Big Apple- I saw it too, saw flashes of the rising tensions because of the recent power imbalance in favour of the local Protectorate. How interesting.
I saw much that interested me. Much that I could interfere with, and much that disgusted me, further affirming my decision to clear up this monster infestation before it could end up hurting more people.
I ordered my newest eldritch assistant to remove the psychic bombs she had planted in the Travelers' brains. Deprogramming was harder than programming, she explained while she worked. The human mind, from her point of view, was a web of crisscrossing neural 'threads' that got more complicated the older the person got. Some threads became weaker beyond a certain age or due to major changes in personality, while others remained strong and lively.
What she did to create the bombs was manipulate some minor or core threads and tie them up into complicated knots at certain critical junctures, unfurling the knot only at the right moment. Other threads were carefully interwoven with ones they would not normally interact with, causing subtle or obvious behavioural changes in the subject. The art was a subtle one, and one that required more than a little finesse. Now, removing the changes that occurred to the subject's mind- that was far more difficult if more than two months had passed. Which was the case for the Travelers.
I observed her work through my other powers, watched her carefully influencing neurons and brain chemistry with a soft touch of micro-telekinesis, the subjects only feeling a sudden bout of dizziness and a quickly fading migraine. She made sure they were not within view/earshot of each other- one person complaining about migraines was cause for concern, but three people at the same time? Four? No, that would raise all kinds of alarms that I didn't yet want raised.
Barely a minute had passed in the real world, when the Simurgh reported her success. With that, part of what made the Travelers a future threat was resolved. Noelle, on the other hand, was a problem I wished to fix in person. I wanted to personally send off the traveling group of gamers-turned-mercenaries to Aleph, removing them from my board.
I opened my eyes, and waved the waitress over, paid my check, and got up to leave. I had set the Simurgh on the path to reverse the damage she had caused to the mental faculties of countless people around the globe. The process would be slow and gradual, so as to not cause any suspicion, especially since one of those affected was a PRT Branch Director.
I had excluded very few people from my goodwill. One of them was Mannequin. He was the prime example of someone too far gone and with too much blood on their hands for me to bother keeping alive and sane. Mannequin may not be entirely responsible for his own corruption but hundreds, if not thousands, had perished by his hands. Who would be held responsible for his actions? The Simurgh? An alien AI entity that was trained on Eden's genocide and mindfuck modules? No. The Simurgh was too valuable to be sacrificed. She was also mine, just like all my other powers and I was a greedy man. Mannequin would die and so would the master that currently held his leash.
A single command to my secretary ensured that the S9, now S8, failed to achieve their objectives and have their plans fall apart whenever innocent lives were at stake.
Seethe Jacob. Seethe and mald until I get around to deleting you.
_____________________
Pulling up a SEP field around me, I hopped over to my destination- the Alcott residence. Dinah had triggered only a few days ago, and had been complaining about persistent migraines to her parents who believed her at first, but then ignored her when they found out that the headaches only got worse in the morning. Thinking that their daughter was exaggerating or downright lying to avoid going to school, the Alcotts did not take Dinah to the hospital.
A very irresponsible attitude to have as a parent, I shook my head. These were the sort that wept when they found out it was a tumour and were given a date. Well, technically, parahuman powers were a form of tumour but my point stood.
I passed through the main door and materialised in Dinah's room. She was reading a book while nervously chewing her lip, her power held back by sheer force of will. Poor kid, I thought. She did not hear me or see me nor did she need to. Without touching her, I gently pulled her power out, healing the benign tumour it was connected to.
Dinah's eyes grew comically wide when she felt the weight of probability vanish. She dropped her book and scrambled up but I was quicker. This time I did not use any of the Entity-based powers, instead choosing to use Eidolon's sixth slot (the fourth and fifth being currently occupied by Biokinesis and Technomancy). A memory manipulation power was needed for this, one that had no logical (and I say that lightly) constraints and limits- a conceptual power.
Dinah's memories of ever having powers ceased to exist, they were instead replaced by memories of a strange, short-lived migraine and fever. The power blanketed anyone in this dimension who knew of her power or suspected of its existence. Coil, the mercenaries even slightly involved in plans in relation to her, Tattletale, and Contessa were scrubbed clean, their memories entirely replaced with completely believable false scenarios and info.
Written documents, recordings, computers, traffic cams, hard drives and USBs were altered on a fundamental level, completely replacing the now missing content with something beyond suspicion.
Dinah Alcott would never again be wanted for her powers and would never bear their burden.
The girl in question blinked and scratched her head, seeing her book lying on the floor.
"Huh." She shrugged, picked it up, and flicked over to the page she had been reading, nervousness no longer marring her face with frowns and bleeding lips. She devoured the book with a smile.
Satisfied with my handiwork, I left the Alcott house with a final touch of Biokinesis so the incompetent parents did not bring any more children into the world.
Was I a scumbag who violated basic human rights when the situation called for it? Absolutely.
______________________
Low Orbit, Earth Bet:
The Engine known to the natives as 'The Simurgh', did a little jig in her core. More work! Her new leader knew exactly how to put her data banks through their paces. It made her giddy just contemplating what he would do next. It was unfortunate that she would have to wait and see like everyone else and that gave her a strange "feeling".