Chapter 27: Oh the irony… Get it? Iron-y?

Brockton Bay, NH, USA

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Type: Steel

I barely remembered what I did yesterday after I let Victini take over. If I focused, I thought I could glean impressions, but it was akin to trying to remember a hazy dream. Getting shunted to the subconscious level in my own mind was a new experience, but there was no denying the aura of sheer delight radiating off of Victini and into my soul so I assumed nothing terrible happened.

It was also a lot more tiring than I'd expected. I could do it more if necessary, but the strain was noticeable. A Legend's presence in my soul was heavier in a way that defied words. Having her take over felt like my soul was being pressed and stretched all at once, filled to capacity and then pushed just a little past that point.

What I did remember from that haze of impressions was eating four times my bodyweight in macarons. It left me feeling a little queasy at the thought, maybe a psychosomatic holdover?

Whatever the case, I crawled out of bed with a bit of an upset stomach.

"I hope you're happy, you pastry-gremlin," I grumbled under my breath. A pulse of smug amusement was my only answer.

"You say something, Blake?" Mark asked, strolling from the shared bathroom down the hall in just a set of boxers and a towel slung over his shoulder.

"Nah, good morning, bro."

"Morning. Man, must've been a wild night for you yesterday. You staggered in here like you were drunk or high or something, didn't even notice that Wells got a new assistant."

"For real? What's their name?"

"Her, she's a chick," he said with a dopey smile on his face. "She's only a few years older than us too. Name's Cherie LaCrux? LaCroix? Something like that."

"So cute, don't even remember her name, huh?" I asked with a teasing laugh.

"Ey, shut up. You'll see. Anyway, we were all going to go down to the park this morning, maybe show her around town. Wanna come?"

I thought about it. How long had it been since I last spent time hanging out with my little brothers and sisters? And anyone new to the orphanage was someone I wanted to meet. From the look on Mark's face, she seemed like a great girl, or at least a really hot one.

Then I remembered: I had plans, rather important plans with a timetable I didn't get to dictate. Several of them, in fact.

To start, I wanted to participate in the prison convoy transporting Kaiser and the other Empire members. I didn't know exactly when that was, Miss Militia wasn't allowed to tell me the exact time for "security reasons" or somesuch nonsense, but she did warn that it would be today at some point.

I also had school obligations, namely my work-study at the Camacho Clinic. I usually did those on Monday and Thursday afternoons and Saturday mornings. Stacy told me not to show last week because there were inspections from the board they had to deal with and she could handle the regular minutiae, but that was then. As it was, I'd probably have to beg off of that, maybe ask if I could come in tomorrow or leave early today.

Still, it was a good excuse to not go to the picnic at least. My priority was the convoy.

"Sorry, man. I have to do the work-study thing for Arcadia. I'm expected at the vet clinic," I told him with a disappointed smile.

"Eh, suit yourself, bro. Cherie's a riot though. Hell, even Leah likes her and you know how prickly she gets."

"You really have it bad for her, huh? Didn't anyone tell you not to trust the French?"

"Shut up, Blake," he said with a bashful grin. "Besides, she's Canadian, I think."

"Even worse! The only good thing to come from Canada is maple syrup. Oh, and Dragon. She's like the only respectable Canadian."

"Whatever, man. You have fun playing with puppies or cleaning litter boxes."

"It's mostly just indexing pet food and holding animals down while the doc gives them their shots, but yeah, I do like it there," I said. I slipped on a pair of jeans and a shirt before grabbing my only winter jacket, a hand-me-down from an older boy. "See you around, Mark. Have fun chatting up girls you ain't got a shot with."

"Fuck you, asshole!"

X

First things first, I had to find Emily. A few days back, Faultline gave me a folder with Emily's new ID inside. It had everything, from report cards to medical records. Most of all, this version of Emily Souza was eighteen. If I wanted Emily to take a step out of homelessness, this was the best way to go about it.

Blake: Yo, Emily, good morning.

Emily: Blake? Morning, what's up? I haven't seen you around the hideout for a while.

Blake: Yeah, sorry, I've been busy.

Emily: Busy giving people rides on unicorns and giant eagles? I see how it is. No time for little Emily anymore.

Blake: Ouch. It's not like that. Actually, Faultline and I talked and I've got a little present for you. Are you still at the ferry station?

Emily: I know it's not; I'm just messing with you. And yeah, I was about to head to Lord's Market with my paintings for the week. You've been busy so I've had a ton of material on PHO lately. What's with that macaron-mouse though?

Blake: That's Victini, and she's a menace.

Emily: She?

Blake: Long story. Can you hold tight for a minute?

Emily: Sure, but you didn't have to get me a present. I'm really not mad you can't visit every day or anything.

Blake: It's not that kind of present, promise.

I put away my phone and headed out to the South Ferry Station before shifting into a lampent.

Phasing through the wall, I found Emily with a shopping cart full of paintings, those little palm-sized canvases that you could buy for $2 a pop at the crafts store. There were also two large ones, as large as a mid-sized TV, that would probably look good on a college dorm wall or something.

"Hey, Em," I greeted with a cheery wave of my torch-like arms. I shifted back to give her a brief hug. Hugging a lampent… didn't usually go well for normal people.

"Blake, how are you?" she said with an easygoing smile. She had on a white shirt speckled with various paint stains and an apron that clearly failed at its job. Still, she looked happy, like giving her a hobby also gave her something to focus on, something she could tangibly do to improve her station.

"I'm doing alright, just got a lot on my plate right now. Give me a sec while I get changed into my armor?"

"Yeah, sure. Oh, wait, would you say that macaron-mouse is a full-length kind of painting? Or would that be better for a desk ornament? Something small and cute maybe?"

I laughed as said gremlin gave an affronted huff in my soul. The sheer unknowing disrespect. "Definitely full-length. Victini is a very powerful pokemon, the kind that'll make national news eventually, one way or another."

"Really? It just kinda looked… like a glutton. Like a chubby-cheeked hamster cramming pastries in its face."

"Hahaha, yeah, that's her. She also set off the endbringer alarms, remember?"

"Was it the same pokemon? I didn't think it was. PHO says you did something dumb again. As your friend, I feel like I should be scolding you."

"In my defense…" I whipped out the folder and pressed it into her hands. "Oh, hey, a distraction!"

"What's this?"

"Open it."

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, buster," she said with a gimlet eye. She began unwrapping her gift. "It's just a bunch of paper. Did you make copies of your homework or somethi…"

"Your ID," I said softly. "Faultline knows some people, being a merc and all, and well, I figured life would be a lot easier for you if you were eighteen. Work. Driver's license. Rent. You know, all that grown-up stuff. She went above and beyond and got you a full biography too. Like, you're from San Diego and your records got lost during the endbringer attack there a couple years back. I know it's kinda asinine to use an endbringer as an excuse, but it'd explain why your records-"

I was knocked out of my rambling by an Emily-shaped missile launching into my chest. I landed on my back with a heavy thump that knocked the breath from my lungs.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," Emily mumbled into my chest. It couldn't have been comfortable, tyrantrum scales weren't exactly cushy to lie on, but she resisted every attempt to move her.

I reached up and wrapped her in a gentle hug. I whispered into her hair, "You're very welcome, Em."

X

We stayed like that for several minutes. Emily was… She was a normal girl, someone who didn't even want to be a cape. She hated the thought of hurting people, hated how her power was so damn lethal. I had no doubt that if she could take off her power and turn it in like a library book, she would in a heartbeat.

The ID meant a lot to her. I knew it would, but I hadn't realized just how much. Whatever caused a girl my age to run away from her home and family to brave the city alone was definitely dark, maybe darker than anything I'd seen at the orphanage.

I held her as she sobbed into my chest. I rubbed her back and whispered kind words into her ear. She was the master of her own life now. No one, not even I, could tell her what to do.

Eventually, I had to leave.

"Em, I've got to go," I told her. "There's a prisoner transport scheduled today for the Empire capes. I think Kaiser's going to the Birdcage and I need to make sure the heroes don't drop the ball like they did with Hookwolf."

"Y-Yeah, I'm sorry, Blake," she sniffled. Her cheeks were a splotchy red and her eyes had begun to puff up a bit. "You have better things to do than-"

I jabbed a clawed finger into her nose, making her flinch back in surprise. "Nope. Don't start with that. I do what I do because I like you. You're my friend, Em, and that means I want you to be happy."

"O-Okay." She took a deep breath and composed herself. She got off me and gave me one last hug before pulling away. "Thank you, for all of this."

"It's my pleasure, Em. Now, come on, you have an art booth to run too."

"Yeah."

Emily pushed her shopping cart full of paintings out the door. She stopped and turned around, giving me a final, teary smile. "Blake?"

"Yeah, Em?"

"I want you to know, Menagerie might be the city's hero, but Blake Isley is mine."

X

After Emily left, I snuck out again as lampent. It wouldn't do for anyone to think the painter who made pictures of pokemon actually knew Menagerie.

Once I was far enough away, I shifted back and bought myself a hot dog from a shady vendor who tried to sneakily take a photo of me in front of his cart. Brockton wasn't New York, but we did have our share of "mystery sausage flavored with salty cart-water." Cheap, and unexpectedly delicious too.

After a quick minute scarfing that down, I skipped back, windmilled my arms, and punched the air. "Shift, corviknight!"

And suddenly, I was the premier flying type of Galar. These guys weren't anywhere near as fast as pidgeot, probably why they didn't roam all over the globe like their cousins, but they were massive.

At more than seven feet tall at the crown and an armor of heavy plate made of fused feathers, they were quite literally flying tanks. In fact, because of the weight of their armor, they had some of the most developed chest muscles of any flying type, right up there next to skarmory.

Even its wings were armored with feathers that had the consistency of steel. They weren't fused together like the breastplate, but they overlapped each other to form a scale pattern that wouldn't be found wanting even compared to a dragon.

Then the personality hit. Corviknight, as their name implied, took the social cues of corvids in an entirely separate direction when compared with the likes of honchkrow.

Whereas a honchkrow's flock was chaotic and filled with social jockeying and backstabbing schemes, held together only through the merciless might of the reigning don, a corviknight led flocks of rookidees and corvisquires with an iron discipline. Such flocks tended to be far more structured, with a rigid hierarchy based on strength, perceived wisdom, and seniority that was unlikely to change barring a formal challenge.

Among humans, corviknight swore themselves to a trainer, as a knight would to a lord, serving them faithfully and ferrying them all across Galar. They were noble pokemon and it was easy to see why several knightly orders throughout Galar's history used their likeness as their battle standard.

It was this sense of duty and purpose that filled me now. Whether a corviknight soared into battle alongside Calyrex himself or merely acted as a taxi service across the region, a corviknight took pride in its dedication and drive.

I spread out my massive wingspan and took to the skies with a determined caw. The Empire would not be getting their leader back today, not if I had something to say about it.

X

Mouse Protector was surprisingly challenging to find. I would have thought a woman in her late twenties running around in a mouse-themed costume would stand out, but this was Brockton Bay, strange and stupid was the norm here. That unfortunately included early mid-life crises.

I cruised above the city and scanned each neighborhood methodically but still no mouse.

Either the transport had already left early in the morning in an attempt to avoid gang response altogether, or-

"Hiya, big bird! Gouda morning!" I heard above me. Mouse Protector had teleported directly on top of my back. "Woah, you're actually made of metal."

"Yup. Didn't you need a marker to teleport to?"

"I marked you yesterday, silly."

"Huh. I didn't know they lasted this long."

"Neat, huh. They take a few days to fade so I never lose my target."

"That sounds very useful."

"Yup. So, you ready to crash the party?"

"Sure. How are we going to find out when the transport's happening?"

"Already know that," she said smugly.

"Wait, how?"

"This old mouse learned a few tricks over the years, you know."

"So I see."

"Alright, get this: The holding cells for capes aren't actually in the PRT HQ. I mean, they have some, but not rated for major brutes or shakers, too close to the Boardwalk in case something happens. The real, heavy-duty cells are in the Rig."

"Right, so we just need to keep an eye on the Rig?"

"Yup. Millie told me a few things about the transport too. Off the books, you understand."

"Really? She doesn't seem like an 'off the books' kind of woman."

"She's not, but we were in the Wards together for a long time. Trust me, I know how to weasel information out of her. If you annoy her enough, she'll spill eventually."

I laughed at that. Mouse was living proof that there was no one more dangerous to op-sec than a good friend. "I think that's an exploit only you can use."

"Yeah, I'm pretty great, aren't I?" she sniggered. She pointed out a roof that overlooked the Rig. "Alright, big bird. Take us down over there. It'll give us a good view of the Rig so we'll know when they start moving. And the PRT building too, just in case they moved the capes there last night."

"Do they do that?"

"You never know."

I landed atop the roof and shifted back. If something happened, I wanted as much time as I could get.

Mouse grabbed onto the railing and hopped on top, sitting down with her legs dangling over the edge of the building. I guessed being able to teleport to safety ruined her sense of danger somewhat.

"Listen up, boyo. I'm about to drop some cheddar."

"Fine, lay it on me."

She looked at me with an atypical seriousness. It really didn't suit her. "You captured a lot of perps a while back, right? Kaiser, Fenja, Menja, Stormtiger, Victor, Othala, and Alabaster. That's great, but that's also a lot of stress to dump on the poor PRT folks."

"Right, so I figured they'd move them all in one, giant convoy."

"Nope. Way too many chances for failure. The Empire still has Hookwolf, Krieg, Purity, Cricket, Rune, Crusader, Night, and Fog. Coupled with thousands of gang members. Having a target like that would be begging to be overrun."

"Wait, thousands?"

"Surprised? Gangs are big. Hell, the Empire isn't anywhere near as large as some of the other gangs like the Bloods, Crips, or the MSXII out west."

"H-How many are there?" I asked, taken aback by it all.

Maybe it was because the Teams back in my old world were never this numerous, at least not their combatant members. Even Rocket, despite being the biggest crime syndicate in the world, didn't just have a few thousand mooks lying around in a single city.

Maybe that was because my old world had a much smaller human population. Or maybe the presence of pokemon necessitated a more decentralized model for criminals somehow. I didn't know, but the idea that there were literally thousands of Empire grunts waiting to pull a gun on me was unnerving.

"The Empire is estimated to have anywhere from thirty-five to forty-two thousand members spread across the eastern United States," Mouse Protector lectured. It was so easy to forget with her whimsical attitude, but Mouse was a veteran heroine, someone from Hero's heyday. "In Brockton Bay alone, they have an estimated membership of eight thousand. Now, I'll grant you that most are just street peddlers or neighborhood bullies, some might even run legitimate businesses and just pass information along, but that's still a lot of grunts to think about."

"I really had no idea the gang problem was so bad," I said. "Usually, you only hear about five or six getting hurt in a shootout or something."

"Because gangs are decentralized by nature. It's not like they're an organized army or anything. Anyway, this is something you should have studied up on, buckaroo. You're doing great work, but learning about your city is important."

"Fair point. I started by making a list of capes I'd have to watch for. I guess the regular guys never came to mind."

"Yup. Powers-bias. That happens, and it can get you seriously hurt if you're not careful."

"Got it. So, about the transport?"

"Right. Eight free Empire members, six in prison right now. To keep them from mobbing a single convoy, they'll be splitting the transport across three convoys. Each convoy will have four cars, three escorts and one transport vehicle. Convoy One will contain Kaiser and Othala, the two priority capes, and will be guarded by Armsmaster and Assault.

"Convoy Two will be led by Millie, with Triumph tagging along for additional firepower. It's holding Fenja and Menja. I'm not too comfortable with leaving the twins with just Millie, so I'll be riding along with that one, just in case."

That made sense. She would of course want to make sure her friend was safe.

Truthfully, I had my doubts as well. Triumph was… just a guy that yelled really loud. His shouts could apparently pack some power, but I didn't think he could do a lot against the twins.

"And the third?"

"Convoy Three will have Dauntless and Battery escorting Stormtiger, Alabaster, and Victor. They should be fine for the most part; I think Dauntless is supposed to be a major up-and-comer, kinda like you."

"So I heard. Say, why won't the Wards join in? And what about Velocity?"

"Remember what I said about a ton of goons? Well, even if they don't join in to intercept a convoy, you can bet at least some of them will be causing a ruckus elsewhere. The more cops they can pull, the better for them. The Wards are needed to keep the city from blowing up. They probably contacted New Wave about it too. As for Velocity, I'm pretty sure he'll be running between two convoys to act as a fast response unit. I'm not sure where he'll be exactly since he's supposed to be flexible."

"That makes sense. This must have taken a lot of planning."

"It did, which is why I left the Protectorate, boyo," she said with a dry chuckle. "This kind of thing really isn't my scene, you know?"

"I get that. I'd rather be giving people rides. Large-scale operations like this don't make me happy."

"And they shouldn't. Operations like this? They only happen when something can go very wrong. That's not something to be happy about."

"Yeah…"

"You know your forms best. I'll be with Convoy Two and Millie. What about you?"

X

I thought about it. All things considered, I agreed with the PRT: Kaiser and Othala were likely to be priority targets for any Empire rescue parties. One was their leader and the other was the only villainous healer in the city; they were both indispensable.

That was why Convoy One had two of the best combatants from the Protectorate. Assault and Armsmaster would make short work of most capes. There was a real chance that if I joined that convoy, there would be no need for me to interfere at all and the other two would go without reinforcements.

"No, I won't join a convoy at all," I said.

"Aww, relax, cheese up a little," Mouse said with a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Now's not the time to get cold feet."

"That's not it. I think it'll be best if I find a rooftop somewhere and watch all routes. Then I can reinforce whichever one is struggling."

"Hmm, yeah, I can see it. You have a lot of birds in that noggin of yours."

"Mind telling the PRT that I'm available? If they have a flare gun or something, I'd appreciate them shooting it when they need the help."

"Sure, I can do that."

Mouse teleported away, probably to a tag she left on Miss Militia, leaving me alone. Several minutes later, I received a phone call from a number I didn't recognize.

"Hello?"

"Menagerie? This is Miss Militia. Mouse told me you were on standby."

"I am. I know you can make flares. Do the other convoys have something like that?"

"They don't," she said. "Strictly speaking, the director wants this to be a Protectorate operation."

"And it is. Mouse and I are just… spectating…"

The line was quiet for a minute. Then, "You know, I hear the apartment high-rise on the corner of Wilshire and Bloomberg has a wonderful view of the city."

I chuckled. She wasn't breaking any rules, strictly speaking. "Thanks for the recommendation. I think I'm in the mood for a nice, panoramic view of the city."

"Of course. You could join New Wave and the Wards on patrol. The city is bound to be lively without the Protectorate."

"Maybe. Who knows what I'll see up there."

"Suit yourself, Menagerie."

The line went dead, leaving me free to head to the building Miss Militia recommended. I could no longer see the PRT building from here, but that was fine. The Empire obviously would want to strike nearer to their own territory. From where I sat, I could see the main highway out of the city. South to Boston, and curving a bit west to the biggest metro area in the states.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

X

I didn't have to wait long. Soon, I saw three sets of four cars make their way, spread across several blocks. The one farthest away, and nearest to the PRT, was easily identifiable as Convoy One by Armsmaster's bike. He stood over eight feet tall in bright, blue power armor after all; the man was not subtle.

The convoy at the center of their spread, and so the one nearest to me, also had a motorcycle. Given that I could see a woman in mouse-themed armor clinging to the top of a van, I labeled this as Convoy Two. Which made the one four blocks away Convoy Three. A streak of red darting the width of their formation told me Velocity was active.

The Empire struck swiftly. Mouse said they had eight thousand members in the city alone and I was now shown exactly what that meant. Smoke billowed out of what I was pretty sure was a Chinese restaurant just outside of ABB turf. Sirens rang throughout the city as countless criminals took to the streets.

It was their ideology that made them so dangerous. Their racism probably made recruiting difficult, most white people didn't get off on punching Jews, but it also made their members more loyal, more fanatic. To some of these gangbangers, the Empire wasn't a street gang, it was a liberation front, a rebel army fighting against oppression.

Idiotic, but the kind of stupid that would blindly follow orders, so long as they were told they served the cause.

This was it, the widespread chaos that Mouse warned about. She said the Empire would move to paralyze the cops as best they could and she was right.

I winced as a gunshot rang out several blocks away. As much as I wanted to help, leaving my post now might mean letting the Empire free their leadership. It sucked, but I'd have to trust that the Wards and the city's independents had things well in hand.

I saw Dovetail fly by and prayed to Arceus they'd be safe.

Then the main attack began.

It was almost impressive how coordinated the Empire was. They struck at nearly the same time. Judging by how prepared they were, someone from the PRT clearly couldn't keep their mouth shut.

Convoy Three was stopped when Hookwolf charged in front of them. He was twice as large as a minivan and had taken his iconic, lupine form. His head collided with the transport in front, and with the sound of tortured metal, brought it to a skidding stop. The tires popped from shard of metal he left behind. And, with the first car grounded, so were the others.

Over two dozen gang members came out of their ambush point, brandishing assault weapons that belonged on SWAT or the actual army rather than a bunch of street toughs.

Dauntless was quick to respond. His shield expanded outward as he leapt in front of the vans, keeping the gangsters from shooting the driver dead. As I watched, Cricket engaged Battery to the side, though how that fight would go was anyone's guess.

At the same time, A beam of scorching white light lanced through the front of the van in Covy Two. It was quickly followed by three more lasers that similarly incapacitated the other vans. Purity had arrived to hit Miss Militia's convoy, along with Night and Fog.

Even as I watched, Fog lived up to his namesake, quickly overtaking the street. If I wanted to know how that fight was going, I'd have to get in there myself.

Just about the only plus side was that because Fog's breaker state affected everyone indiscriminately, Purity's ambush party had the fewest number of regular gangsters. They too would choke on their own cape's power. I saw a little over a dozen gangsters, far more spread out than Hookwolf's group.

That left Convoy One. The initial strike was the most lethal. From the PRT driver's perspective, the only clue that there was a trap at all was the sudden rise of ghostly soldiers. They climbed out of the earth, floating up like party balloons and taking a phalanx formation.

Armsmaster was nimble enough to avoid harm. He skidded to a stop, turning his bike sharply to the right. The body of the bike grated against the asphalt, sending a trail of sparks into the air. This allowed him the brief second needed to leap off his ride even as the row of spears skewered it like it didn't exist. For a man in eight feet of power armor, he was a lot more agile than he looked.

The same couldn't be said for the subsequent drivers. Crusader's ghosts ignored all inorganic material, which meant they had no trouble phasing through the passing cars and letting the momentum of the vehicles do the work for them. I could see that their spears were aimed low, targeting the legs of the drivers, probably to avoid the elevated truck beds where Kaiser and Othala might be held.

Whether the ghosts successfully skewered the drivers almost didn't matter. The sheer panic caused by the sudden phalanx formation threw the convoy into disarray. The four transports kept going until they slammed into Krieg, who'd leapt from a nearby rooftop in front of them.

By using his shaker field to diminish the incoming momentum of the first car and magnify the force of his own fist, he was able to slap the car aside and into the one behind it. Though Assault leapt out to help steady one of the vehicles, he was only one man, and a striker with a very limited range.

Above, I could see Rune arriving with a hijacked school bus filled with goons.

I closed my eyes. There was so much going on. The city was burning, bleeding out from a thousand and one weeping wounds. The convoys were attacked in synchronicity, the routes obviously leaked by someone inside the PRT.

I could hear the sirens. People were dying. I wanted to be there for them. Amy was probably in the hospital, cursing this bullshit wave of bodies.

But I couldn't.

If Kaiser escaped, this would happen all over again. We'd be back to square one. No matter what happened anywhere else in the city, my target was clear.

I took a deep breath and centered myself. Aura was the light of the soul, the physical manifestation of an inward reality. It was, quite literally, me. I couldn't afford to let the circumstances get to me.

I opened my eyes and knew what I needed. There were a dozen different steel type pokemon who could wipe the floor with any number of capes, but only one I trusted implicitly, only one who was my brother, my other half.

"Please lend me your strength, old friend," I whispered.

Then, I threw myself off the roof.

My feet found purchase in the concrete high-rise. I kicked off, dashing down a vertical surface even as I quickly lost control of my descent.

But that was okay. This was what being an aura master was all about, to take a leap of faith, to trust in my partner. Luca wasn't here anymore, but I wanted to believe my brother in all but blood would approve. We'd always been a pair of reckless idiots.

Even as I stumbled down the wall, I shouted at the top of my lungs, "Shift, lucario!"

A familiar power flooded my body. Even as I tumbled down, my footsteps became sure and my senses sharpened to a razor edge. I had some time, maybe fifteen minutes. I'd need to make them count.

My newly formed claws dug deep into concrete as aura flooded my body. Muscles like steel cords twisted and tensed even as the calm discipline of the aura pokemon firmed my resolve. This wasn't the first large-scale battle I'd taken part in. It had more mooks, but so what? At least a Legend hadn't decided to be offended today.

Compared to the battle over Sootopolis, this was tame.

My eyes locked onto a target in a fraction of a second. Fifteen minutes wasn't long; I didn't have the time to be choosy so I'd have to settle for the low-hanging fruit and go from there. It was my tried and true tactic: Minimum effort. Maximum impact.

"Extreme Speed," I whispered.

Beneath my feet, the apartment wall cracked like an eggshell dropped from above. Concrete debris showered the ground below as I shot off like the jackal-shaped cruise missile I was.

Aura gathered in the pads of my paw, making them glow an eerie blue. This wasn't fair. Rune couldn't possibly hope to respond. There was a good chance she couldn't even see me.

But she was also piloting a bus with two dozen gangsters, guns aimed at the people below. I didn't have the luxury of being gentle.

I crashed through the school bus, easily ripping through the metal exterior with a Force Palm.

"Wha-" Rune shouted in surprise as my paw closed around her startled face.

I wouldn't kill her. She was no Cyrus. But that didn't mean she didn't deserve retaliation. She was the one who stepped onto the battlefield.

My knee lashed out faster than she could perceive, striking her gut and folding her in half like a book. I felt her aura fluctuate. Shock. Sudden lack of breath. Agony. I saw the exact moment her vision began to swim, that moment her eyes flitted to and fro like volbeat dancing in the night. I knew her control was shot; the bus would fall soon.

I blitzed over to the rest of the mooks, barreling through them and the bus seats alike. The seats, I ripped open with the metal spikes on the back of my hands. The men, I was gentler with, if ever so slightly.

Wood frames and bones broke, snapping like dried kindling.

Their auras surged with abject panic, a disgusting color that I loathed inflicting on others. Yet, needs must.

The bus was falling now, crashing towards the ground. I gauged the distance and deemed that they would be injured, but were unlikely to die.

Job done, I left the same way I came, punching a hole through the chassis as if it was made of paper mache. If I angled myself downward and kicked up hard enough to offset their momentum slightly, that was just a small mercy.

Mooks handled, I looked next for Crusader. Krieg was no threat, not to me, and Armsmaster seemed capable enough at keeping him at bay. Assault however, was a horrible matchup for the ghostly master.

At a casual glance, Crusader was nowhere to be found. It was a general truism that where the minions were, the masters would be also, but he wasn't so stupid as to stand out in the open. I knew he was close, probably from somewhere he could see the battlefield, but that wasn't saying much as we were surrounded by high rises. He could be on any rooftop, any floor.

I took a deep breath. A cocktail of scents filled my nose, made up of sweat, blood, and gunpowder. It wasn't helping; there was too much going on.

Closing my eyes, I fell back on Luca's namesake. Even should all earthly senses abandon me, aura never would. Aura was soul, the energy inherent in all life. Whether it was expressed as physical force or mere emotion, a lucario saw it as surely as humans saw color.

It was an ugly thing, the aura of the battlefield. There was so much fear, so much pain. It was like standing in the midst of a typhoon, a tidal wave that assaulted the senses.

Yet, I did not let it overwhelm me. I picked out the sparks of deeper resentment. Fear was one thing, but there was violence too, a desire to do harm and shed blood that no civilian would possess. I zeroed in on the bitterness and hate.

To my surprise, each of the phantasms had a fragment of emotion within. It wasn't quite aura, at least, not a soul, but there was something there, muted and gray. It was as though someone or something had copied Crusader's emotions onto the projections, giving them a small semblance of autonomy.

That made things simpler. Though the emotions inherent in the phantasms were like a shirt that had been washed out too many times, the design, the individual signature of the master, could still be read.

"I found you, prey!" I growled. I kicked off, shattering the ground beneath me. Extreme Speed came so easily to me; few pokemon could match a lucario in sheer agility.

I scaled a building less than a hundred feet away, dashing up the wall as if it was flat ground. I found him quickly. He stood overlooking the battlefield inside the fourth floor of an office building.

Crusader looked exactly as his phantasms did. He wore a knight's armor, a mockery of the code they once represented. In his hand was a lance, about ten feet long. All around him, I could see and feel an overlapping phantasm, cloaking him like a ghostly shroud. It gave him an imposing air, one furthered by the spear that had been tipped in my face.

Even as I watched, ghostly figures were dismissed from the field. They reappeared at his side, spreading out of their master's silhouette like a Double Team.

Clearly, he wasn't nearly as inexperienced as Rune.

I snorted with contempt. So he was better than a child. So he'd fought Velocity before and knew what to expect of speedsters. That wouldn't help him.

I caught one spear by the metal spike on the back of my forepaw, sweeping it aside to interfere with the spearman next to it. I stepped into the one I'd disrupted, my knee rising with enough force to turn cement to powder.

The phantasm made no sound as it was launched into the air. I'd heard that Crusader's ghosts could ignore inorganic materials but that meant nothing to me.

To their credit, the projections took my momentary pause to position themselves. Two more spears came for me, throat and kidney from either side. Their coordination was noteworthy, though perhaps not when I considered that there was but one mind to direct them.

I conjured a staff of aura and windmilled it vertically, catching both spears and sending them astray. Or, it was supposed to. The staff of condensed aura passed clear through both spears as though they weren't there and it was only thanks to the reaction speed and combat instincts innate to the lucario line that I avoided getting skewered.

'Bullshit! Aura was organic! There's literally nothing more organic than aura! It's literal fucking life energy!' I raged as I avoided another attack from behind.

These things were tripping me up like nothing else had so far in my cape career. They had emotions. They were affected by organic matter. But they ignored aura for some Arceus-damned reason.

"Fuck this shit," I growled. I'd be surrounded if I let them. "Close Combat!"

I felt my muscles fill with fighting type energy, swelling and becoming as taut as the string of a longbow. Then, I unleashed hell. I abandoned anything resembling defensive measures, using raw speed and ferocity to overwhelm the projections.

These things weren't alive. They weren't real. There was absolutely no reason for me to hold back any further.

Every punch and kick, ever swipe of my claws, ripped clean through the clones. Their phantasmal armor was only about as durable as their master's. Though they made no sounds, they interacted like physical objects and that was enough for me.

In a mere three seconds, I'd ripped through every last one of Crusader's projections; thus was the problem with trying to form a phalanx without shields.

Idiot.

He could no longer react at the speeds I'd picked up. In the first place, his preparation was only possible because I'd stopped to look for his hiding place. His spear was grabbed and twisted out of his hand, only for a second spear to narrowly miss my liver. Maybe because the ghosts had no higher brain functions, they actually had better reaction speeds than their master.

Seeing how he was clad in his final ghost, which should mean it was like wearing two sets of armor, I held back far less than I had with Rune.

My claws glowed with a metallic sheen as I plunged them into his shoulders. They found easy purchase in his sockets. WIth a twist, I removed my paws. Both collarbones snapped like twigs from the force, steel rending each end like so much butter. His arms hung by flesh alone with no bones or joints to take the structural weight.

I forced myself to listen as he wailed his pain to the heavens. It was only right; I'd caused it.

It was cruel. I hated inflicting so much pain on others. Without myself or Panacea, he'd be maimed for life for certain.

And yet, I refused to risk it. If he gathered himself before the battle ended, his projections would continue to be a problem. Now, neither he nor his ghosts would be wielding a spear.

After a brief use of Life Dew to ensure he wouldn't bleed out, I took off.

X

A part of me wanted to head for Convoy Two. Purity was one of the few villains that I thought might be able to match me. And yet, I trusted Mouse Protector. She was an experienced heroine who should be able to hold her own with anyone.

I turned back to the mess here at Convoy One. When Crusader launched his ambush, a phalanx of specters emerged from the ground, killing every driver as the cars passed through them. The convoy crashed all along the street and, whatever Armsmaster used to sedate Kaiser and Othala, I could feel their auras stir.

I ran down the building wall and took in the situation.

With Crusader taken off his hands, Assault had pivoted to helping his boss with Krieg. The two around the Empire lieutenant, as if there was a spherical barrier they were hesitant to enter. Even on the outskirts of his field, the two heroes were moving noticeably slower than they should be able to.

Armsmaster's spear lanced out, its blade sheathed in crackling energy. It should have pierced Krieg's shoulder, delivering its electric payload and ending the fight then and there. Instead, the spear visibly slowed and Krieg was able to skip out of the way.

Krieg kicked a pebble in the tinker's direction in retaliation. Though the kick seemed light, the pebble shot towards the hero like a bullet.

"Kaiser's waking up!" I shouted to them as I landed. A blue orb of light coalesced in my palm. I chucked it at the villain, but he leaped out of the way with ease, covering more than ten feet with a single hop.

"His shaker aura saps kinetic energy," Armsmaster grunted, ducking from another thrown projectile.

I swore. Aura was conceptual. But it acted upon the physical world. It traveled. It had mass. Most importantly, it imparted kinetic energy. If I were a psychic or ghost type, this would be different.

Just to be sure, I tried again with a Dragon Pulse. Blue fire that could melt most metals palpably raised the temperature around me. And yet, even as the projectile traveled into his field, I could see it losing some momentum. Not all, Krieg still had to dodge, but rather than a blisteringly fast orb of explosive force, it was like a baseball, dangerous, but manageable.

I could break through. Enough force and I'd overwhelm Krieg's ability to sap energy. I was about to charge a Swords Dance; I'd have loved to see him try to stop a Swords Dance-boosted Meteor Mash, but Assault stopped me.

"Armsy, hit me!" Assault said. "Kid, go get Othala out!"

I was puzzled by the order for a moment. Then I understood. The last thing we needed was an invincible Kaiser. Worse, Kaiser was a terrible matchup for both heroes. I doubted tinkertech fell under Kaiser's Manton limit and Assault didn't fare well against shakers on that scale. His power was… something about touch-based kinetic redirection?

Yeah, he'd get skewered eventually.

Truthfully, I wasn't entirely sure how I'd fare against Kaiser either. When I first captured him, I did so with a wide-area spore attack, something impossible for him to avoid or respond to. I didn't have that option at the moment. I was confident, but there was no sense in letting Othala empower him for the giggles.

I'd have to come back. Othala first. Then Krieg. Then we could jump Kaiser together.

Plan hastily made, I dashed to the crashed convoy.

X

The prisoner transport was in bad shape. It had crashed into a street lamp and the hood of the car had partially folded around the metal pole. A spiderweb of cracks ran along the bulletproof glass; it hadn't shattered, but that didn't matter to the driver who'd been skewered by several of Crusader's ghostly lances.

He'd been stopped by lances even as the car continued to drive, which meant that for a time between when he was stabbed and the car hit the street lamp, his body was the only thing that exerted force on the moving vehicle. The immense pressure had crushed him against the barrier that separated the driver and the detainment unit, making him look a little like a smushed bag of fruit, leaks and all.

I compartmentalized. His death was gruesome but I could pay my respects later. I'd once seen what a stampeding donphan herd could do to a particularly stupid poacher. I didn't really get queasy anymore.

Kaiser was fully awake now.. I didn't know exactly what he was doing, but the stirrings of emotion I felt told me enough. He was quickly recovering from the jarring crash.

I dug my steel spikes into the lock and ripped the door apart. Just as the door opened, I heard a dull, grinding noise. That was the only warning I had before a cylindrical pike of metal shot out, almost but not quite catching me in the throat. I growled as tufts of blue fur drifted to the ground. Had I not been aware of his emotional state, I would not have been able to react in time.

Inside, Kaiser was in the process of undoing his bonds. He and Othala had been secured to two gurneys. He'd also been handcuffed to the wall with chains as thick as my wrists. It would take some serious raw strength to break those. Meanwhile, Othala had been placed inside a strait-jacket, with her hands gloved and arms pinned to her sides so she couldn't touch her boss in the event she woke up.

"Menagerie," Kaiser snarled, spitting my name like a curse.

Next to him, Othala whimpered in fear. When I caught her, I'd done so as toedscruel, a pokemon with passive stingers that caused considerable pain to those who touched its tentacle-like vines.

She'd had one of her minions try to set me on fire and I'd responded by wrapping her in my vines. It didn't surprise me to learn that she'd developed something of a phobia regarding pokemon. I felt a little nauseous as her fear washed over me; it was like opening a decomposing coffin.

Kaiser was working his handcuffs. Both hands were bolted to the wall but he didn't need them to use his powers. Even tied down as he was, his power created a rippling wave of metal blades that forced me to skip back.

He probably had to balance durability and speed because these were only as thick as two fingers. They were fast though, not fast enough to catch an alert pokemon, but fast enough that I couldn't ignore them.

One, long spear made its way towards my eye, its sharpened point seeking an immediate kill shot. I caught it in one hand before bending it out of the way.

"Gah," I gasped in pain. What had been a smooth, cylindrical pole had morphed, growing barbed hooks that caught and tore at my palm in the seconds it took me to bend it out of the way.

I quickly reinforced myself with aura and wrenched my hand away, wincing as I felt the metal already inside my paw tear. Blood dripped down that spear, leaving a glistening trail of red.

"You can't even approach me," Kaiser gloated. "Bound as I am, you have already lost."

I wasn't listening. The pain was like a wave of ice water that banished the fog of fear and panic all around me. How long had it been since I'd been injured in combat? Cyrus? Lysandre? Giovanni? Or was it a Legend who'd fed me a serving of humble pie? Honestly? It could have been a spar against Luca for all I knew because I didn't remember anymore.

Earth-Bet's capes were so one-dimensional, so very proud of their narrow perspectives. And in a way, I'd fallen into the inverse trap: I was so confident in the versatility of my pokemon that I didn't take most threats seriously. There was some justification for that, but not to this point. Being so laid back that Kaiser of all people took first blood from me was unacceptable.

I held out my injured hand and glared at him. As he watched, my body shone an aqua-blue and the minor injury knit itself together.

"Thank you, Kaiser," I said sincerely. "I needed that."

I conjured two staves of aura and rushed forward. Metal spikes and beams grew out of the ground to impede me. I realized early on that he wasn't trying to stab me, only drive me away from his position.

Now that I was facing him without the element of surprise on my side, I couldn't help but grudgingly acknowledge his skill. I'd heard that he once managed to impale Lung, buying his gang the time they needed to withdraw with dignity. I'd always wondered how it happened, with Lung being such a powerful brute.

Now I knew: Kaiser wasn't limited to one or two batches of steel growths; he had full, uncontested control of an entire battlefield on a scale that reminded me of facing an ornery magcargo. Everywhere I turned, a low grinding noise filled the air before I was forced to evade one thing or another. He must have had some sort of sense for nearby surfaces he could grow his metal from because I knew for a fact he couldn't physically see me while cuffed to the truck.

He was even smart enough to stagger his growths, making caltrops that dug into my feet or hoops that attempted to trip me as I avoided a more obvious attack.

The worst part of it all was that I couldn't just lob a Dragon Pulse inside the truck and call it a day. Killing wasn't something I did lightly and, whatever could be said of Kaiser, Othala didn't deserve it.

I growled in frustration. Slowly but surely, I was being pushed back, herded like an unruly wooloo. As I watched, thick bars of metal erupted from behind his wall of spikes and merged with the roof of the car. He criss-crossed blades and folded them into each other, creating a multi-layered steel dome around the transport.

I'd need to break this one go, and do it without crushing the whole dome like an aluminum can.

"Swords Dance," I whispered. All around me, azure blades of aura formed. Each carried a lethal resolve that was seldom seen in casual battles.

The swords weren't physical, not like Bone Rush, but that didn't matter. They buoyed my fighting spirit until it soared to new heights. I felt my canine lips curl into a wicked snarl as the need to hurt nearly overtook me.

Maylene once said that the difference between fighting type and normal type energies was not so much a difference in kind, as with fire and grass and water, but a difference in focus. That was what set Mega Punch and Dynamic Punch apart: Intent. Sharpened will. I found myself undergoing a similar shift. If I could be characterized with a boxing glove before, I was now more akin to a naked blade, honed for a far more ruthless purpose than a mere sporting event.

My footwork likewise completely changed. Kaiser never stopped trying to skewer me but I took back the flow of battle. I engaged in a frenetic dance that was all but impossible to predict, moving with a lightness that had me skipping atop his blades at some points.

In my paws, I molded my aura into a single, massive staff. It was the largest Bone Rush I'd ever made, more than twice as long as the STOP sign across the street. It was a struggle, holding onto so much aura, but I managed.

I then shaped it. Staves were possible. Bones were possible. So why not swords? What was the difference between a pole with a sharpened edge and a bone?

I saw Kaiser's eyes widen in panic even through the holes in his cross-hatched wall. With a delighted grin, I brought it crashing down on the metal dome.

X

Max Anders

I had to work fast. I was under no delusions here. My power alone wouldn't keep Menagerie at bay for long. He was too versatile, too many forms to ever be defeated by a single cape. If I wanted to escape, this was my only chance.

Whether I liked it or not, my time as the leader of the Empire was over. I'd spent almost two weeks in prison; the PRT knew Max Anders was Kaiser. They likely wanted to avoid any announcements until I was in the Birdcage, but I had no doubt the Medhall accounts were being frozen and investigated in the background.

If I escaped here, I'd have to start from scratch, build a new revenue stream. The thought that I'd have to act like any other gang leader with a feudal structure made me grit my teeth in annoyance.

But all such thoughts could wait. I needed to escape first.

"Oh, god, we're so dead," Othala whimpered next to me. She thrashed in her strait-jacket but could do nothing to save herself. A part of me hoped she'd second trigger here, maybe with something that didn't require another person to be useful.

I ignored her. I had more pressing concerns than to reassure my panicking subordinate. The PRT didn't give me enough credit. While there was no way I could break these chains through brute force alone, that didn't make me helpless.

I grew a metal hook and looped it into one chain link. Then, I began to feed more and more metal through, making the radius thicker, until the chain strained against my power. I grunted in annoyance as I launched wave after wave of attacks against Menagerie. I'd have been free long ago if I didn't have to worry about that asinine clown.

Then, with a clang of shattering metal, my handcuffs broke apart. I allowed myself a satisfied smirk and massaged my wrists to get the blood flowing.

"Do keep still, dear," I said with a calm I did not feel. Blades began to gnaw away at her bindings. "We wouldn't want to cut you, now, would we?"

"Y-You're free?" she gasped.

"But of course. Pass me your invincibility if you don't mind. We'll need all the advantages we can get if we are to escape Menagerie."

"I-Yeah…"

I reached out to caress her cheek, only for me to see something else outside.

Menagerie's new dance pattern had been noted but not a cause for alarm in itself. That giant, blue staff however? That was cause for worry. The brute meant to crush my walls. He'd rather kill us both than allow us to escape. That realization stunned me for a single, precious second.

Then, he brought it down. On some primate instinct, I closed my eyes. There was the sound of tortured metal and a crash that rattled my teeth.

When I next opened my eyes, I saw a giant, blue sword, perfectly dividing the transport in two.

I felt my fingers twitch against the cool surface. He'd almost disarmed me; that single moment of hesitation on my part saved my life.

X

Blake Isley

I smirked as Kaiser stared open-mouthed at my handiwork. He looked vaguely familiar but I put it out of mind. His hand, reaching towards Othala, twitched in delayed response, only just now realizing how close I'd come to literally disarming the man.

I swung my oversized aura sword to the side, sweeping one half of the transport truck away from the other. Then, before he could recover, I bolted over to Othala and released her from the gurney before picking her up in a bridal carry. Her strait-jacket was frayed where Kaiser had almost succeeded in freeing her but the tough fabric still held, leaving her as something like a blonde, eyepatched burrito in my arms.

Then again, she'd probably take offense to the burrito comparison. Or, she would, if she wasn't currently as stiff as a corpse. Her poke-phobia was kicking in hard. Her chest heaved as she took in shallow, rapid gulps of air. Cold sweat streaked down her face, framing dilated pupils that strayed wildly.

"Ah, shit," I muttered. I leapt away with her as she began to hyperventilate.

She couldn't be allowed to help Kaiser obviously, and I couldn't just leave her in the middle of a battlefield, but the PRT troopers were more or less out of commission so I couldn't just drop her off with the nearest LEOs. With no other option coming to mind, I ran up another office building and broke into an abandoned office before stuffing her into a comfortable-looking chair. Hopefully, being away from me would give her the chance to catch her breath. As tied up in a strait-jacket as she was, she wasn't going anywhere anyway.

I hopped down, feeling distinctly like a greedent squirreling away berries for winter. First Crusader and now Othala.

When I first turned into lucario, I guesstimated about fifteen minutes for myself. Now, I'd place that timer at closer to ten minutes. I had enough juice to act, but taking down Kaiser was a little more time-consuming than I'd expected.

Off a little ways away, I could see that Armsmaster and Assault had finished Krieg off. Armsmaster had engaged in a whole lot of friendly fire, striking Assault as hard as he could to build up his power. Then, Assault ripped through Krieg's shaker field with enough force to flatten a semi-truck. Once they knocked Krieg to the ground, Armsmaster was able to close long enough to inject him with a cocktail of tranquilizers.

Kaiser didn't hesitate. He knew that me taking Othala bought him a few precious seconds, and that Armsmaster and Assault would soon collapse on his position. He'd gotten free, but it wouldn't last.

So, he quickly formed a set of plate armor around himself and gestured with his hands. A veritable forest of steel spikes rose up against the two Protectorate members.

"Kaiser on your six!" I shouted in warning.

Armsmaster reacted faster than Assault. He whirled his halberd around, cutting a neat crescent through the steel spikes with his plasma blade attachment. Whatever he couldn't cut down, his armor did well enough to deflect, until a thick beam of metal rose up directly inside his guard. It hit his lower stomach like a mace, launching him further down the street.

He flipped in the air like a cat; the man was deceptively athletic despite his seven feet tall power armor. He slammed his halberd into the ground and skidded along, bleeding off momentum.

Assault was nowhere near as prepared for Kaiser's surprise attack. He'd managed to dodge one pointed spear, only to take a glancing blow from another. I didn't know if it was because his power couldn't redirect kinetic energy from multiple sources or because it had a cooldown, but that single, glancing cut made him falter and his injuries snowballed until a spear went through his left kidney.

He let out a grunt of pain. To his credit, he immediately redirected the next attack, a hammerblow that was meant to cave in his skull, absorbing and repurposing its momentum to launch himself from the spear he was impaled on. It wasn't a pretty landing, he rolled along the ground and left a messy trail of blood, but at least he was breathing.

X

Kaiser turned to run. I'd seen men like him before, leaders who talked a big game about unity and resilience but were always the first to turn tail or save face in whatever way they could. He wasn't unlike Team Rocket's Petrel in that sense. Petrel had been a petty, cruel man who sacrificed his own like coins slotted into a vending machine. Maybe it was the martial mentality of a lucario, but I felt nothing but contempt for the man.

The worst part of this was that he wasn't wrong. Tactically, if he got away, the Empire could preserve some semblance of dignity. I could already hear that speech in my head: The Empire's capes made a noble sacrifice so that he could be free. He felt a sense of deep responsibility for the cause. He'd launch a rescue and instate a resurgence of the Empire. I'd heard it all before, those halfhearted platitudes that radicalized the broken and desperate.

And yet, I allowed him to run. My body moved before I'd fully decided, not towards Kaiser, but towards Assault. I was the medic and the fighter and I was reminded why role consolidation wasn't always a good thing.

"Hey, Menagerie," he croaked through a mouthful of blood.

"Stop talking, you idiot. Heal Pulse!" A glow of azure light surrounded my palm. A thin spear of metal had gone clean through his kidney and out the other side, which meant he'd at least partially lost a lung as well. When Assault launched himself off of it, he'd only made the wound bigger. That he was conscious at all was honestly kind of impressive. "Dumbass. What the hell was your plan?"

"Not how I saw it going in my head."

"Fucking idiot. Sit still and let me regrow your damn kidney."

I held him down and forced more healing aura into his wound. Restoring a missing organ was significantly more complicated than what I usually did at the hospital. Even in my old world, something like this would have required a dedicated Nurse Joy, or maybe stem cell treatment via ditto cell cultures. As powerful as Heal Pulse was, it had its limits and Assault was on death's door.

I lost a precious four minutes just stabilizing him. He wasn't fixed, the man was still missing a kidney and part of a lung, but I'd regrown the skin and thickened his blood to keep him from hemorrhaging out. He did well to remain conscious but I could see him start to fade from consciousness.

I picked him up and took him behind one of the crashed vans. The drivers were dead but the troopers would eventually gather themselves. They could make themselves useful and protect Assault when they regrouped.

When I looked up again, I found Armsmaster cuffing Kaiser. He'd recovered from Kaiser's surprise attack and had opted to run the man down while I treated his subordinate.

Kaiser, being dressed in full plate, wasn't especially fast, not compared to a man in power armor. He could do nothing but send waves upon waves of steel at Armsmaster but that wasn't helping him gain any ground. Now that he was expecting the assault, Armsmaster was able to dodge out of the way or cut the metal aside with his plasma blade. And every time Kaiser turned to run, his barrage would slow, giving Armsmaster the opportunity to draw closer.

The battlefield was a mess. Kaiser was down but shattered and melted steel of all sorts of shapes littered the street. A broken fire hydrant partially flooded one side of the street while small craters in the pavement made the dry side look like the surface of the moon.

I grabbed a group of troopers who were still trying to stand woozily. A quick round of Heal Pulse got them back in something resembling fighting shape. I grabbed the one that looked like he was in charge and began to point. "Rune is inside the bus with the rest of the mooks. Crusader is there. Othala is on that building over there. Crusader needs medical attention. Othala needs a shrink. Clear?"

"Ah… I think so?"

"Good. Line up, I'm going to give you boys a little going away present before I check in on the other convoys." One by one, I tapped them on their foreheads, right on their helmets. A glowing blue light sank into them, leaving me feeling rather spent. "You can all use a Helping Hand."

"What did you do to us?"

"Gave you a bit of my strength and stamina. It won't last long; I suggest you make it count."

"I-Yes, sir!"

Author's Note

Taylor describes Crusader's duplicates as having been infused with "fragments of his ego." That's the emotions Blake is sensing.

Technically, Heal Pulse can't be used on yourself ini-game, but that seems silly in practice. Why wouldn't a lucario be able to heal himself? It's not like self-directed healing moves don't exist. In the absence of an explained canonical distinction between Recover and Heal Pulse, I'm going to say they work largely the same.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.