Chapter 28: Alloys, Allies, and All Lies

Brockton Bay, NH, USA

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Type: Steel

I was more than half way through my shift. When I first turned into lucario, I could feel that I had approximately fourteen minutes or so. Now, I had maybe six, if that. I could feel my power begin to slip away.

After that, I'd have no choice but to hunker down for a minute, or otherwise rely on what I remembered of my martial arts training. As weak as many capes were compared to pokemon, that wasn't something I wanted to do. That said, if I had to exit the field for a minute to gather my strength, it needed to be on my terms.

In that case, information would be just as important as staying out of the line of fire. With the time I had left, I rushed up to a nearby building. Convoys Two and Three were only three or four blocks away from me, but I still had to hop around the rooftops to take stock of the situation.

Convoy Two seemed to be doing well for themselves. I'd been worried when I heard that Purity, Night, and Fog were leading the attack there, but Mouse Protector's inclusion must have turned the tide. Purity, easily identifiable with her subdued glow, was down and groggily trying to stand using a mangled bus stop bench for leverage. She could technically still shoot, but I doubted she could hit a donphan's backside right now.

I couldn't see Night or Triumph, but they were probably in the fog. With Triumph's ability to throw out discount Boombursts, it shouldn't be too hard for him to keep himself from inhaling any of Fog's particulates.

Other than those two, Mouse Protector and Miss MIlitia looked to be doing well enough. The latter was shouting something, quickly mowing down the gang members with rubber bullets. The troopers rallied to her command, removing the injured and taking out the gang members in an orderly fashion. I saw Velocity circle around behind the mooks, closing their escape route and herding them together with Mouse Protector's help.

With those two extra reinforcements, they looked like they had things well in hand. That left me to reinforce Convoy Three.

Dauntless and Battery were holding off Hookwolf and Cricket, but they were being pushed back. Off the cuff, it seemed like Hookwolf commanded the largest group of unpowered gangsters. They weren't nearly as well-armed as Krieg's men had been, but they made up for that with numbers. Enough small arms fire would be plenty dangerous for the majority of capes.

Right now, Battery, Dauntless, and the PRT troopers were bunkered behind their armored vehicles. Every so often, I could see streaks of lightning from Dauntless' arclance striking down a mook or two. Battery would zip out, becoming a blur as she clotheslined a group of gangsters. She wasn't nearly so harsh normally, but a few broken bones should be a good lesson for them here.

It was a delicate balance. Dauntless' shield could easily repel Hookwolf's charge, but that left him vulnerable to the unpowered gangsters. Battery knocked those down when she had the charge while troopers did their best to pin down Cricket with blasts of containment foam.

I considered going down there. As lucario, I could surely turn the tide, but there were so many mooks. Twenty-five? Thirty? More? I wasn't bulletproof and I would surely become a priority target. Worse, I wasn't sure if I could take them all and the capes within the time I had, not nonlethally at any rate.

And given Cricket, my sensitive ears would surely put me at a disadvantage as long as she was conscious. I could enter with a Metal Sound of my own, throw off their aim, but that had its own risks.

Sound-based attacks were powerful and hard to defend against, but they were also incredibly imprecise. There was no such thing as a "single target" Boomburst, not even from the most experienced of noivern. If I mistimed my attack, I could easily do more harm to the troopers instead.

Which meant it was time to ditch this form. As generally effective as lucario were, I wanted to end things all at once. There was so much going on and I needed a pokemon that could multitask effectively. To that end, there was only one option.

"Just hold on," I whispered as I depowered on a rooftop.

X

A minute never felt so long. I knew intellectually that a minute was an eternity on the battlefield, but sitting around with my thumbs up my ass wasn't pleasant. Going from lucario to just plain human, it felt like the Extreme Speed, supersonic high I had evaporated into thin air.

Just about the only plus side was that no one looked up. With Purity, Crusader, and Rune neutralized, the Empire simply had no other flyers to give me trouble.

Finally, I felt my soul refuel, like a cog in a windup toy that had returned back to its starting position. Or maybe it was like a gun being primed again, ready to strike the hammer and ignite. If ever the Empire had the chance for retreat, it was this sole minute.

I launched myself from the rooftop, cackling at the top of my lungs. "Hahaha! Time's up, suckers! Shift, metagross!"

The moment the shift took hold, I could feel all my excitement fade. It was like my emotions were wiped from the chalkboard that was my mind, leaving behind only the residue. I could still feel things, but they were faded, echoes that were overpowered by the cold, calculating logic of my own mind.

Or rather, minds.

Metagross did not have a singular mind. In the wild, two beldum fused together to form a single metang. When conditions were right and two metang were mature enough, they could fuse to form a single metagross. This meant that each metagross was closer to a limited hivemind rather than one, independent being.

It was a bizarre feeling, one I couldn't compare to any other pokemon I'd been so far. Perhaps if I became a vespiquen at some point, I would have a better frame of reference.

I put my concerns on the backburner. I'd not gone unnoticed. Now, it was time to end this.

X

Four minds acted with one purpose, yet each through a different vector.

One mind channeled aura into our face and roared. The battle paused as every eye was drawn to the giant, iron spider falling on top of them like the worst possible rendition of the children's song.

Perfect. It meant no one could look away.

Scary Face was an unusual move, and considerably more complicated than the name suggested. It was the projection of intent, usually a predator's desire to hunt and kill. Augmented by aura, it often paralyzed weaker opponents like a rat before the eyes of a cobra. When performed by a truly powerful pokemon, it took an exceptionally disciplined mind to fully disregard the move.

My metallic face twisted into a grotesque snarl. Metagross preyed upon lesser pokemon by pinning them with their legs before chewing them to bits. One descending atop them like this was practically an age-old fear.

I felt a dim sense of satisfaction as every last one of them froze in their tracks. Heroes and villains, troopers and gang members, they could do nothing as their lizard brains screamed a dozen warnings at them.

Good, that was mind-one. I needed to use this window of opportunity to end the fighting here.

Another mind began to plan future engagements. Though my immediate goal was to capture Hookwolf, Cricket, and the mooks here, there was another convoy I needed to check on. The city probably could use the help of a metagross as well. To that end, mind-two used both Agility and Magnet Rise on myself to augment my response time.

Minds three and four acted as one. Faster than a supercomputer, I cataloged every instance of metal worn or wielded by the Empire. Metal bats, bracelets, belt buckles, bullets, it did not matter. I took hold of them all with an electromagnetic grip before wrenching them all away from their owners.

Fingers broke. Wrists chafed. Guns exploded as bullet casings tore themselves from their plastic magazines. Shouts of pain ripped them out of the stupor caused by Scary Face, but they were far too late.

Cricket and Hookwolf weren't spared either. Cricket's sickles tore themselves from her hands before their blades rolled up into themselves like one of those fruit candies the kids at the orphanage liked.

She also insisted on wearing a metal cage around her head as if to advertise that she was in fact a cage fighter. Idiotic, but convenient. I wrapped my iron grip around her head and shoved her to the ground. The cage deformed around her face, trapping her uncomfortably against the asphalt.

Dauntless gathered himself by this point. He shook off the fear caused by Scary Face and deemed me a friend. Though he'd not seen this from before, my trademark shout was a dead giveaway.

He swiftly turned and fired his arclance at the pinned Cricket. Electricity coursed through her body and what had been the beginning of a sonic distortion turned into an agonized shriek before she sank blissfully into unconsciousness.

Hookwolf was a little trickier, but no issue in the end. I'd fought and defeated him before. An opponent a metagross had seen, even once before, became far less of a threat by default. Four minds that could rival an alakazam recalled our previous interaction and every video of his appearance, categorizing his temperament and picking apart his likely movements.

When I pinned him down with Magnet Rise, his predictable answer was to generate even more metal from whatever constituted his core.

I scoffed. That was the brute force approach. If there was enough mass, then surely he could break free from any telekinetic hold. Strictly speaking, it wasn't a bad idea, but I'd expected this.

I focused my grip, not to the rest of his body, but to one of his hind legs. The sound of tortured metal screamed through the air. Hookwolf abandoned his titular lupine form.

He now reminded me a little of a snake in a clay jar. He generated more metal to lift himself into the air in a futile attempt to reach me, but with his hind leg pinned to the ground, he could only rise so high. If he grew much bigger, he'd become more sluggish as his sole core attempted to move so much mass.

Deeming him contained for the moment, the fourth and final mind took hold of every gangster in the street. I calculated every individual vector before launching them collectively into the air. Even without their weapons, they could run. They could cause trouble for other people and so they had to be contained without undue harm.

I quickly tested each rooftop access on the block before picking one that was obviously locked with chains as thick as a human's wrists. Then, I placed every gangster on the roof, all thirty-two of them. If these imbeciles really wanted to flee, they could jump down.

Within a mere fourteen point three seconds, all threats were contained. I hovered down to Dauntless and Battery.

X

"Greetings, law enforcement organisms," I said. I wasn't even sure why I said that. The minds of a metagross were complex yet directed, detached from concerns like propriety. "All threats have been neutralized. Do you require additional assistance?"

"Ah, no…?" Dauntless said hesitantly. He stared as I lifted a struggling Hookwolf into the air with Psychic.

"Do you have a way to restrain Hookwolf?"

"No, no we don't."

"Understood. I shall put Hookwolf to better use." I began to twist. His metal blades ground against each other, making a shrieking noise that rang unpleasantly in the ears of these organics. When I was done, Hookwolf resembled a churro. "Convoy One has been secured. Convoy Two requires reinforcements. Will you join me?"

They looked at me with a healthy dose of caution. Then Dauntless rose slowly into the air. "Can Battery ride on you?"

"Acceptable. I recommend you do likewise for expediency."

"You don't look very fast."

"I am a metagross. Appearances can be deceiving."

They shuffled on my back. They were cautious with a palpable undercurrent of fear. Scary Face had not entirely worn off yet and I could tell that it was only my reputation as a hero that got them to comply.

I opted to take it as a compliment as I rose into the air. Really, a human who lacked a natural fear response to an attacking metagross was either Steven Stone, or a unique kind of stupid.

"What are you going to with Hookwol–" Battery tried to ask. The question died in her throat as I sped up suddenly, holding them in place with Psychic.

Still, I opted to demonstrate. I had a churro-shaped Hookwolf, locked down by two of my minds. I scanned through Hookwolf's "body," finding the dissonant sphere within all that steel. That would be his core then.

With the sound of grinding metal, I twisted him in place. I folded him in half before tying off both ends in an intricate pattern, making sure to keep the core in the center. I then twisted the two ends together and lengthened them before making a few neat curls with individual blades and hooks along the length for decoration.

"This is a sword," I said, projecting my voice directly within their psychic shells. I held the newly fashioned balloon-sword aloft like a conquering champion. Metagross' natural, apathetic voice was perfect. "There are many swords, but this one is mine. May Nazis tremble in fear."

X

Hannah Washington

"All units to me," I barked, years of experience helping me keep focused.

The Empire was desperate. They'd been so dominant in the Bay for so long that they didn't know what it was like to be put on the back foot. With Kaiser's identity known to the Protectorate, the Empire's days of seemingly infinite funding were over. Less money meant fewer recruits, weapons, and resources to throw at corrupting the system. Hopefully, when we next made an arrest, it would stick.

In that sense, the Empire was done. Even if Kaiser somehow broke free today, he would be king over a crippled kingdom, the past few weeks an irreparable stain on his flawless reputation. Fewer capes would trust him. Some of the less fanatical members might desert. We just had to make it through today.

I looked at my men, just eleven from what had been seventeen men: three drivers, six in each escort vehicle, and two more to accompany myself and Triumph as we watched over Fenja and Menja in the main vehicle. They were good men, the best that our branch had.

"Mullins, Phan, you two go secure Purity," I ordered. My voice came out a little muffled thanks to the gas mask but the earpieces we had, courtesy of Armsmaster, made communication possible. "Silva, take your squad and work with Mouse. The rest of you with me, we'll pin them between us."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Swap to live rounds."

"Ma'am?"

"I'll take responsibility. I am authorizing lethal force."

We'd long since foregone the foam sprayers in favor of rubber bullets. They were sufficient for gang members, but nowhere near appropriate for a brute of Night's caliber. Considering several of my men were already dead, I felt using live rounds against the gang members wasn't uncalled for either.

It wasn't done often, perhaps not often enough, but each agent did carry a magazine for when we had no other choice. Sometimes, that threat of lethal escalation was the only thing keeping villains from massacring entire squadrons of PRT officers.

And at times like these, we had to remind them that the unwritten rules bound us far more heavily than they bound them.

The gun in my hand shifted, morphing in a haze of green light into something distinctly less friendly. I hated it. I hated the way it purred in my hands as if alive. I hated using lethal weapons. It brought to the surface memories I'd rather forget, the days when I was force-marched in front of a warband in Kurdistan. Though I'd long since overcome the trauma of being a real life minesweeper, I wasn't capable of forgetting the feeling.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself. This was the less glamorous part of being a hero, the duty. And here, I had a duty to my men. If that meant revisiting old nightmares, then so be it. It wasn't like I slept anyway.

Taking aim, I pressed the trigger. Projected bullets left the barrel in measured pulses. I knew they'd strike with the same force as real bullets, only to disperse into light after the damage had been done. In a way, that made my guns even more dangerous; it was easier to bleed out without a metal slug filling the bullet holes.

I felt my stance shift slightly to better suit my weapon. My breath came evenly, too evenly to be completely natural. It was a lesser-known aspect of my power, a thinker ability that allowed me to use every weapon like a veteran. Even without it, I'd logged thousands of hours at the range during those long nights.

And, as would be expected of any other veteran soldier going up against upjumped gangsters, I seldom missed. Each pulse of my rifle sent a man screaming to the ground. I tried to spare them from immediately fatal wounds, some of them might live through this, but I didn't have the luxury of holding back anymore.

The gangsters who'd arrived with Purity, Night, and Fog went down quickly. They'd already seen Purity fall and a few had begun to flee, their morale shaken. Those, I left to Velocity. The ones who still fought; those would be the Nazi hardliners.

A minute or two later, a loud explosion caught my attention. A searingly bright pillar of light shot up into the sky and I knew Purity was up again.

"Shit," I muttered. I waved my men forward and turned to deal with her. Mouse could easily handle the few unpowered gangsters remaining.

My power purred as it changed in my hand. Triumph's roar clearly had not been enough to knock her out for the count. She was probably dazed, but that made her more dangerous, not less. I was keenly aware of how restrained she was normally. It also meant I'd likely sent two of my men to die.

Another ray of blinding light spiraled out and the prison transport was blasted off its wheels. I felt my stomach sink. Fenja and Menja were still inside. They'd been sedated, but they sure as hell were wide awake now.

That was the problem. The Protectorate had few defensive powers, and none strong enough to protect a transport from a blaster-eight. At her best, I knew she could level buildings in one go.

But by the same token, she had no defenses either. She was the definition of a glass cannon and relied on her incredible flight speed and blinding halo to keep people from targeting her directly.

I growled and sank deeper into my power, into the killer I could have been. The irony wasn't lost on me. I was saved by Hero, swore to be a hero, and here I was, sinking back into those memories to keep the oaths I'd sworn. The semi-automatic rifle I'd been using shifted, becoming longer, sleeker. One shot was all I needed.

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Purity was fast, nearly a hundred fifty miles per hour by Armsmaster's count. She was often considered the "second best blaster in new England," and when the best was Legend, that meant something. It meant I had to tag her before she could get some distance.

She was hard to aim at. Her hair and eyes glowed like a miniature sun and her outfit left a corona of white behind her that reminded me of a comet's tail. There was no way to aim for anywhere specific and trying to lead the target was almost impossible with her speed, but "vaguely center mass" was more than sufficient with a caliber this large.

I let my power-granted instincts take over and snapped off a shot.

A deafening crack filled the street. Higher calibers had a distinct sound that smaller arms simply could not replicate. It was a sharper, resounding crack that echoed around the buildings. Even for hardened gangsters who were used to the sound of gunshots, there was something definitive about the noise, something a bit more final.

Purity went down for the second time today, this time in a spray of blood. I wasn't sure where I hit, but I'd worry about that when I didn't have a blonde giant trying to run me down.

"You bitch!" one of the twins shouted. Neither had their usual armor and equipment so it was impossible to tell which blonde giant was which.

The one yelling at me ripped a STOP sign out of the ground and used it like a one-handed hatchet. Thankfully, their size meant they were too big to charge me at the same time; they'd only get in each other's way.

The other twin went for Mouse Protector. Velocity dashed between them, trying to use his speed to trip her up. Those two would be fine; they were more than agile enough to handle a single brute-breaker.

I skipped backwards and transformed my rifle into a grenade launcher before lobbing several in her direction. Now more than twelve feet tall, she slashed one out of the air but could not block them all.

The sounds of explosives rang out. She yelled, more in surprise than actual pain. She grew in durability proportional to her size and it would take more than a few grenades to hurt her meaningfully. Keeping her at bay was the best I could do at the moment.

The sound of gunfire had fallen quiet. My men were smart enough to begin a retreat when the twins broke free. So were the gangsters.

That said, the silence itself was damning. It meant Night had gotten to Triumph somewhere in Fog's fog.

Just as I began to look around, a cloud of Fog covered me.

I dove to the side in a desperate tumble. Fog posed little danger to anyone with a gas mask, but his wife was a different story. Sure enough, I saw a wicket, black claw rip through where I'd been, digging a deep trench into the asphalt.

The claw retracted, hidden in her husband's power. I couldn't shoot blindly, not that bullets would do anything to her. Nor could I see more than a foot in front of me. I swore as my head whirled on a swivel. The slightest sound made me jump.

I could neither give orders nor know how the situation was developing. I had to trust that Mouse and Velocity could handle the twins, trust that my men had recovered Triumph. The only upside to my situation was that the twins weren't going to chase me in here.

The scraping of claws on sidewalk concrete caught my attention. My rifle turned into a large riot shield, just in time for me to shove it in Night's face.

She shrieked something awful, a sound that caused goosebumps to sprout along my arms. Claws lanced out, wrapping around the shield. They raked against my arms and shoulders but I dismissed the pain.

A wordless roar left my lips as I shoved against her with all my might. I had to keep my eyes open, no matter what. So close, I could just barely make out her form. She tore the shield from me even as she visibly shrank, leaving my arm feeling distended and numb.

Then, she was forced to scurry back, retreating out of sight to reassume her monstrous form. My riot shield reappeared in my hand. It was my power; I could summon it at will.

But I was losing. This was an impossible fight to begin with. I could feel my blood seep in slow streams down my arms and back. I couldn't keep it up; all it would take was a split second of inattention for Night to take my head from my shoulders.

Still, I firmed my stance. Any time Night and Fog spent with me was time they weren't killing my men. I raised my shield and prepared for hell.

X

Blake Isley

I'd had enough of this shit. There was so much suffering in this city. As a metagross, I was no empath, but the psychic screams of pain were easy to make out. The mental pulses full of struggle led me here like a lighthouse in the dark.

I arrived in short order, dragging Dauntless, Battery, and Hookwolf behind me. Dozens of minds were focused on this one location. Many had withdrawn, both PRT and Empire, but most of the capes were still fighting.

Fog and Night were chipping away at Miss Militia. They kept her within Fog's power, toying with her. The twins had somehow gotten free and were fifteen feet tall now. Each wielded improvised weapons made of street signs and were swiping at Velocity as he danced circles around them. Mouse Protector was likewise doing her best to keep them busy.

That left Triumph and Purity out of the capes I hadn't seen yet.

I found them with a moment of focus. The lion-themed hero was out, bleeding profusely but slowly regenerating even as I watched. He'd been evacuated by some of the retreating troopers. By the slash wounds, I assumed that was Night's doing.

Purity was more complicated. There was a large hole in her abdomen, roughly where the appendix would be. That kind of wound wasn't made by any gun typical LEOs carried. It looked like Miss Militia had decided to stop holding back.

I dedicated one mind to estimating her odds. By the rate of blood loss, she had a minute, if that.

A part of me said that I should let her die, that she was evil. She'd done deplorable things for the sake of a pathetic delusion of racial superiority. No one would blame me. I hadn't caused that wound and I could overlook it just as easily in the chaos of battle.

I stamped down on that mentality. As detached as metagross tended to be, that wasn't me. I didn't want to allow myself to become that cold. It wasn't about who she was. It was about who I was.

I was a hero. And above all else, a hero was someone who saved lives. Regardless of who they were, regardless of the dangers, it was a hero's lot to save.

And though there had been times when I'd been forced to kill, I was not so desperate now. If mercy was the luxury of the strong, then my opponents were not so great that I could no longer afford this luxury.

With four minds like supercomputers, I calculated the best course of action. Save everyone. Demonstrate the futility of resistance. Detain all villains. Yes, this was all possible as metagross.

I dropped Dauntless and Battery.

"Assist Velocity and Mouse Protector against the twins," I ordered.

"Night and Fog–" Battery started.

"I'll handle it. Go."

I had four minds, four minds that were all potent psychics individually. Together, there was no denying that metagross represented the peak of psychic prowess possible for normal pokemon. If an alakazam was the peerless artist, a metagross was the supercomputer, a miniature Laplace's demon.

With one, I telekinetically grabbed hold of all injured parties. Four troopers were alive while two had expired since the assault began. Comparatively, nine gangsters were suffering from various injuries, all relatively fresh. It was a testament to Miss Militia's skill once she decided to switch to live rounds. Triumph and Purity got swept up in my hold as well.

It was customary to put pressure on wounds, be they gunshots or lacerations. I quickly identified the critical cases and held them still, preventing their precious life fluids from leaving their bodies. This wasn't permanent, but so long as I had a mind to spare, they would remain stable.

My second consciousness pressed down on Night and Fog. Night wasn't an issue, her brute form was strong but not "out-muscle a metagross" strong.

Fog however, took some doing. Metagross naturally excelled at the more physical aspects of the psychic arts. Telekinesis of solids came easiest to me in this form. Fluids were a little more challenging. Gasses were a genuine struggle. Like a human trying to pick up water with his bare hands, I too had to carefully focus, "cupping my hands" as it were.

It took a minute, and I was forced to add Miss Militia to my list of wounded, but I managed it. I shoved Night and Fog into a little ball and held them next to me, hovering much like my new balloon-sword.

X

That left one. I grabbed Hookwolf and prepared myself. Steel type energy gathered in my arms, as natural to me as breathing. The X-shaped crest on my face glowed with power as I brandished my new sword. With each swing, Hookwolf too began to glow, his metal receptive towards the raw type energy.

Fenja and Menja, I could not be bothered to tell them apart at this stage, took one look at Night and Fog and turned to run. I could not let this happen; they were the only two left now.

Carefully, I took aim. "Nonlethal" did not mean "pleasant."

A corona of steel type aura covered me and Hookwolf. Silvery-gray light trailed behind us as heroes and villains alike stood in awe. Steel was hard and durable. It was often considered the type that best characterized a defensive fighting style. And while that was true, that alone would not set it apart from rock type aura.

Luca and I had come to see his secondary type another way.

For us, steel wasn't just "that hard thing." It represented refinement, both the material and process. Not quite perfection perhaps, but the pursuit of an ideal. It was the process of slowly tempering oneself into a more ideal form, a philosophy that Luca and I, as martial artists, embraced wholly.

Now, my comprehension of the steel type flooded outward in a glorious display. This was power, pure yet simple, and unlike anything this world had seen before. If a tyranitar's Hyper Beam was all about raw brutality, a metagross' threat display was precise and refined, yet no lesser in any way.

Captured within my aura of steel, Hookwolf almost seemed to lengthen. With a comet's tail behind me and a sword in hand, I charged.

"It is by the name of Arceus I judge the wicked. Face the wrath of a Legend made flesh! Legend's Mirage: Behemoth Bla–Just kidding, I don't know that move," I said, delivered in metagross' perfect, robotic deadpan. "Still, Meteor Mash!"

Jokes aside, I was a metagross, as direct and efficient as could be. It struck me that they could not flee without legs. Ergo, they would not have legs.

I rammed into them with the force of a freight train. They were fifteen feet tall now, taller than I'd ever seen them before, but whatever durability they had was not enough to protect them from a metagross' signature attack.

My new balloon sword, more like a baton made of hooks and razors, swiped through their legs, scraping their flesh from their bones. Bones snapped like brittle twigs as I followed Hookwolf in a textbook clothesline.

They collapsed with twin screams of anguish. As they turned, I slammed Hookwolf between their heads and aimed my claws menacingly.

They looked up at me with terror in their eyes. I did not need to read their minds to know they would remember this moment for the rest of their lives.

"Greetings," I began. My voice grated like metal gears, but I endeavored to speak softly, almost gently. "I am Menagerie. I am a man who cherishes peace in my city. I. Will. Have. Peace."

X

It wasn't over, not by a long shot. Metagross weren't nearly as gifted at the esoteric uses of psychic power, but they were at least decent enough telepaths. I reached out into my "sword" and felt Hookwolf's mind rage against his confinement.

If I released my transformation now, he would go free and rampage. With a minute before I could transform again to hypnotize him, there was a good chance he would escape the heroes. We couldn't have that; I wanted the Empire dealt with permanently.

Carefully, I loosened my grip on my sword and telekinetically yanked his core to the surface, shaving off pieces of metal as I went. It was an odd feeling, knowing that the bulk of his metallic body was insignificant save for a small core that housed his consciousness. The sword turned into something resembling a baton or scepter, his core on one end like a metallic gem.

Once the core was exposed, I promptly grabbed the opposite end with one, clawed hand and beat it against the ground. He could take it. He had a shell of metal.

Once. Twice. Then, another four times just for good measure. Until finally, I felt his consciousness begin to fade. Truly, there was a certain satisfaction to be found in the brute force method.

Comparatively, Night and Fog were much easier to deal with. I released Hookwolf and used the spare consciousness to yank Night from her husband. She transformed back as we saw her, shifting so quickly that most people would have missed it. After that, she was just a normal woman.

Her husband was a little trickier, but we found one of those big, blue water barrels from a local 7-Eleven and stuffed him inside. He could wait until everything settled down.

When everyone I'd been suppressing had been dealt with, I shifted back and began to help secure the rest of the Empire capes. My tyrantrum armor had a backpack Sabah made for me, one filled with containers of durable plastic, filled with Stun Spore, Sleep Powder, and Pollen Puff. I'd stockpiled those a few weeks ago, back when I had access to bug types.

With so many capes, and several of them brutes, I took no chances and happily expended my entire stock of powders. The pollen was also handed out to the PRT for distribution. It wasn't quite as good after so long in storage, but it ought to do the job in a pinch.

I'd have to remember to stock up again when I got the chance.

"Thank you, Menagerie," Miss Militia said as I sent a wave of healing energy into her arm. "Have you seen to Triumph already? He go the worst of it from Night."

"I have. Don't worry about him, Militia," I confirmed. She was the last Protectorate hero to see me, as she'd insisted. She was a bit stiff sometimes, but she was a good leader. "He's stable and conscious. He's not fine, but his natural regeneration will take care of the rest."

"Good, that's good," she sighed, leaning against an upturned van. "Will you stick around? We could use the help."

"Of course I will. I've visited all three caravans and by my count, this was their entire cape roster. The Empire is done for good."

"Maybe this time, the city will finally have the chance to heal."

"We'll make sure of it. If you'll excuse me…"

"Go. I think we each have work to do. Keep an eye on your phone."

"Will do."

I walked off a ways and made sure I had some privacy before calling home. I hadn't had the chance to check on the orphanage in the confusion and I worried.

Though the focus was on superpowers, I was vividly reminded today that the Empire was a massive gang with connections both domestic and abroad. Not all of its regular membership was out shooting up random people of color, but they could easily have an outsized effect on the city by provoking the ABB, shutting down roads, and starting fires.

"Hello? Who is this?" I heard Mrs. Wells.

"Mrs. Wells? It's me," I said, careful to not mention my name while I was in costume. I was pretty sure I was alone, but there were always risks.

"Blake? Where are you?"

"I'm fine; I promise. How are things there? Is everyone safe?"

"Y-Yes, there was a bit of a scuffle a block over, but the children are fine."

"Leah? Mark?"

"They're fine, Blake. You need to come back home as soon as you can."

I balked at that. Today was… Today was a lot. There was a part of me that wanted to take her up on that. Go home, eat, and maybe sleep for a solid day. Dangled in front of me, the chance for respite was more tempting than I'd expected.

But… But people needed help. I couldn't afford to go home, not when there was so much to do.

I wracked my mind for an excuse and came up with one. "I can't, Mrs. Wells. I think I'll be missing dinner tonight, maybe for a few nights."

"What? What happened? Are you in the hospital?" she demanded. We hadn't had many chances to talk since I entered high school, but that didn't mean she didn't care. If anything, she cared too much, and the younger kids needed her more than I ever did.

"No, ma'am," I said, hastily reassuring her. "I'm fine; I told you. I don't have a scratch on me. It's my friend. He lost someone in the chaos and I want to stay with him for the weekend."

"Oh, Blake…"

"I wanted to at least give you a call, check in and make sure everyone was okay before going AWOL."

"That's… You swear you're not in the hospital?"

"I swear, Mrs. Wells."

"Fine, but I want to hear from you in the morning, Blake."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And make sure you both eat."

"Yes, Mrs. Wells. I'll see you in a few days."

I cut the call and walked back to the PRT. They probably had contact with the other emergency response crews.

"Miss Militia, I'm back," I called over to their second-in-command. "Where can I do the most good?"

"Several of us will be taking the arrested capes back to the PRT building before rejoining emergency response. There are people still fighting, but we should be able to handle it. What we need most right now is a healer."

"You've got one. I'll head to the hospital then."

"No, don't. Panacea's already there. Right now, if you go too, you'll just congest traffic. Can you still transform today?"

"I can." I'd used up a lot of aura today. I could feel the traces of aura exhaustion settling in, as if I'd gone for a long hike, but it was manageable for now. It might become an issue if I kept shifting back and forth, though. "Where should I be if not the hospital?"

"We could use you on search and rescue. There are several collapsed buildings and people might be inside."

"Can you get someone to point the way?"

"I will, hold on."

X

That was how I got the number of Andrea Ortiz, a senior paramedic who was coordinating this kind of response. She gave me some street names and assured me the firefighters on-site knew to expect me.

The nearest was a house that had been burned to the ground four blocks over. They'd been the unlucky recipients of a firebomb, never mind that the family was white. They had a basement according to the responding firefighters but they couldn't get inside without putting out the fire.

I rode over there on the back of someone's patrol bike. I felt a little like a sack of potatoes, but then again, it gave me a few minutes to recover.

The fire was raging now, a column of smoke that towered three stories high. The firefighters had linked up their hose to a nearby hydrant, shattering the window of an improperly parked car to do so. There was something about providing the shortest, most unobstructed path for water to flow that meant they couldn't weave the hose around the car.

Their captain, a grizzled old man with muscles like a bull, waved me down. "Menagerie?"

"Yes, sir. How can I help?"

"You got anything to put out the fire? My boys tell me one of the support beams is damaged. People are locked in the basement."

I was steel today. Fire was… uncomfortable. That said, I wasn't without options. Pokemon were never without options.

I wracked my brain for a way to shut down the fire. The only water type I could turn into right now was empoleon. It was a powerful pokemon, one of my home region's starters, and could easily tolerate heat of this level.

I paused. I could race inside with Aqua Jet, but then what? The support beam might collapse. Or worse, there might be someone else the firefighters missed somewhere else in the house besides the basement.

Metagross? I could, but the pseudo-legendary pokemon was taxing. It wasn't that I didn't have the aura for it, but I didn't know what I'd need to do later on today. Worse, splitting my attention four ways like that was stressful in a way that lacked physical description.

Then, my mind settled on another steel-psychic pokemon, one that was almost always overlooked in favor of its pseudo-legendary counterpart: Bronzong. It wasn't as powerful, certainly not as physically imposing, but… but its affinity for the esoteric aspects of psychic aura was much greater than a metagross'.

"Rain Dance," I blurted out. "I can make it rain. Would it help?"

The fireman shook his head. "No, son, it wouldn't. The fire is inside the house, what's rain going to do? You'll just be making the roads more dangerous and making everything harder to see."

"Then what if we ignored the fire entirely? I can make you immune to the heat with Safeguard."

"Immune to–You're asking us to put a lot of trust in your powers, kid."

"I am, sir."

"I… Fine. If you think you've got a fancy force field for us, we'll do it your way. If not, we'll try to put out the fire conventionally."

"One sec," I replied. I took a deep breath and looked inward. My aura was usually a vibrant flame but it was muted now. Not out, never out, but dimmer.

I'd been busy today. Lampent to visit Emily stealthily. Corviknight to monitor the city before things all went tits up. Lucario to fight Rune, Crusader, and Krieg. Metagross to clean up the rest of the capes. I'd dropped aura-intensive moves back to back to back, like Ho-Oh shit out rainbows. Even I had limits and though I could keep going, I was closer to that edge than I'd like.

When was the last time I felt like this? Certainly not in this life. It must have been back then, when I gave my life in one, final display before Arceus decided to postpone my end.

I made no attempt to pose. There was no triumphant shout. My voice came out a whisper, a quiet oath to help. "Shift, bronzong."

The bell-like pokemon was a grayish-green color, almost like oxidized bronze. Though they weren't the most aesthetically pleasing pokemon to look at, they were a popular choice among archeologists, or Elite Four Lucian, for their versatility.

Bronzong were some of the most peaceful of all pokemon found in Sinnoh. They could remain idle, unmoving for centuries while they contemplated the mysteries of the universe. Many esoterics claimed that the ringing of a bronzong's bell could instill a sense of tranquility and serenity even in the most turbulent hearts.

I could use some of that serenity right now.

With that calm, I noticed the changes. There was a sense of reverence for the old goat, something I'd never felt as a human. Then again, bronzong were often seen in temples dedicated to the Legends. I supposed a certain respect for them was to be expected.

"I'm ready," I said. My voice had a hint of reverb, as if it bounced in the bell that made up my body. I floated roughly a foot off the ground and began to levitate towards the house. "Please, join me when you're ready."

I wasn't very fast, a decent sprinter could probably keep up with my heavy body. I was soon joined by four men, each looking at each other nervously.

The fire raged but I put it out of mind. Why should I worry? Why should I fear? Aura was proof of divine providence, an indisputable sign that Arceus watched over me.

I allowed my mind to still. As the agent of his will on Earth-Bet, it was my duty to bestow his protection onto others.

"Safeguard." A gentle, blue light covered the men, like a priest's holy raiments. "Go, please check the other rooms of the house as well. We must be thorough."

"Holy shit, I don't feel the heat."

"You will not. May Arceus, whose Thousand Hands crafted the universe, bless you."

"Ah… Yeah, right."

I smirked. I wasn't entirely bronzong, just like I wasn't entirely any other pokemon. Still, there was something hilarious about giving into this bout of spirituality.

I soon found a cat, hidden atop the refrigerator. Once I'd made sure we found everyone, I hovered back out. The family pet probably wasn't a big priority, but the relief I saw in the little boy's face when I handed the cat over was a balm for my soul.

X

I continued in this manner for the rest of the day. I encountered most of the heroes in one fashion or another. Victoria and her uncle were moving debris. Velocity was passing messages and dropping confoam grenades to stifle fires. Armsmaster was cutting apart a snapped power pole into more manageable pieces to be moved.

I found out halfway in that the university grounds had been turned into an unofficial gathering point to coordinate emergency response. It was also the place I went to after I finished, collapsing bonelessly to the ground.

Aura exhaustion was a bitch to handle. I'd almost forgotten what true, soul-deep exhaustion felt like. I'd given and given until I had nothing else to give. Right now, I probably couldn't even wrestle a toddler.

"You look like crap," Crystal Pelham said as she hovered into view. She flopped onto the grass next to me and offered me a tired smile. Her pristine, white bodysuit was streaked with grime and sweat matted her blonde locks to her head in messy clumps.

"So do you, but one of us isn't wearing white," I replied dryly.

"Yeah, this is going to stain. Heard you did good work out there."

"We did good work out there. The Empire's done now, permanently."

"Good riddance. Mom, Vicky, and I saw that Parian girl throw the gangsters around like toys. It was great, like a giant teddy bear playing with dolls."

"She was here? I thought she didn't like fighting."

"Doesn't mean she can't fight, just that she won't if she can help it. Guess today was big enough to make her change her mind, at least temporarily."

"I'm glad. I just want to sleep though."

"Why don't you? You can go home, you know. I don't think anyone's ever going to say you haven't done your part today."

"I know. I'm just… waiting."

"For what?"

"For my soul to stop aching. I'll then sneak into my hideout."

"If you say so."

We allowed a companionable silence to overtake us. We became an island of calm in the bustle. Soon, more people began to gather around, looking to say hello or thank us. I met more cops in an hour than I ever had in my entire life.

It was nice. We swapped war stories for a bit. Someone had already uploaded Hookwolf's balloon-sword state to PHO so I had to tell them about how that happened.

Then, when I finally recovered a bit of the stamina I'd lost, I shifted back into lampent and faded away.

The abandoned ferry station where I'd made my base wasn't exactly glamorous, but it was mine. Emily typically slept in a women's shelter now so I didn't have to make things awkward by having a guy crash with her.

Sleep never came faster.

Author's Note

Roll shenanigans:

Triumph rolled a nat20 on a death saving throw. I legit tried to kill him off but the dice wouldn't let me.

Purity rolled a nat2 on surviving that gunshot wound. I legit tried to kill her. Chat pulled hijinks and decided to be the hero Blake is always meant to be.

Blake rolled a nat18 (+8 mods) to an INT check to try to keep Fog from spreading.

So fine, no one important died. Everyone gets to live and Blake gets to keep his happy, shonen story. I swear, it's like the fucking alpaca is tipping my dice.

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.