As soon as the speaker had finished announcing that all clones on the floor below us were being released and armed, the atmosphere changed. Perhaps it was just the machinery becoming active, or the murmurs of the newly awakened - fresh noises just outside our range of hearing.
Or perhaps I had just tired of these odd charades.
[Punch a hole through the floor.]
Roxy hesitated for a moment before leaning forward and drawing her arm back. With a quick hit, a small opening burst down through the concrete down to whatever was below.
We watched as the dragonfly-drone zipped between us to sink down into the unknown.
//Clara: Okay. Imagine me with a shocked face.
//W: That is… difficult.
//Clara: That’s how desperate the situation is.
//Clara: Ballpark.. 100 to 150 more clones currently ‘hatching’.
I grunted and let out what would probably be one of many long sighs for the day.
[Open it up, we’re going down. Possibly a hundred or more.]
The super pulled a face. “Are you sure? That seems reckless and…”
[Our inaction prompted this situation. It is our responsibility to fix it. The others are capable enough to clean up this floor.]
I was expecting annoyance and push back. Some dialogue about the way the League does things, or maybe even about safety and best engagement practices. Her slight pause before giving me a nod just helped drive in the nail that something wasn’t right here. She shouldn’t be taking orders from a sidekick, even if we were gradually becoming better acquainted.
“Buckle up then, big guy.” She stood with her legs further apart, raising both fists in the air. “I… am not good at one-liners.”
That made a pair of us. Before I had the chance to do anything, she slammed down on the floor. I adjusted my footing as deep cracks ran down the edges of the room, the machinery buckling and tilting at angles. Should have probably asked Clara how tall the basement was. More the fool me if I just signed up for a fifty-foot drop onto concrete.
Vertigo rushed through my stomach as the floor dropped out, and I resigned to finding out firsthand. Red lights flashed over a general turquoise hue, as vats of colored glass lined a long distance that I had only a split second to peer at before we hit the metal plated floor of the basement.
I rolled from the wreckage, able to distribute most of the force away from shattering my legs. Not the most comfortable of entrances, but the cloud of debris and clatter of machinery parts was enough of a distraction for me to get my bearings - as I had rolled right into a group of clones.
In fact, I imagined they had come over to see what had just poked a hole in the ceiling, and the crushing realization had hit them with quite some strength.
Shotgun barrel went up to the stomach of the one right in front of me. The High Explosive round blew through him and erupted in the one behind, painting both me and the large glass cylinders beside us in bright red.
A heavy clang behind me as Roxy clocked a guy with one of the dented cabinets, before launching the machinery down the aisle in front of her like a bowling ball. In somewhat convenient fashion, the basement seemed to be a wide path that went around the room in a long rectangle, with vats flanking every step of the route.
[I’ll take this left direction, you take right.]
“Got it!”
I twisted away from a clone lunging at me with a grab - instead my left hand took him by the wrist as I turned him from me. Kicked out his leg as I twisted his arm behind his back and then slammed my elbow into the back of his head. Empty cartridge bounced off the nearby glass vat, as I turned back to more approaching me and fired, exploding through a shoulder and into the head of a second.
We were at the far end of this extensive basement storage area. Their armory must be at the other end, as all the ones coming toward me were unarmed. Still the same overalls and look to them, but something slightly off behind the eyes.
I knew a little about clones. While I wasn’t much of a reader, I had picked up a few things in my five years. These were ‘Imprint’ clones. Their bodies were cultivated, fully grown as an adult, and the difficult part was getting the intended brain uploaded. Usually didn’t work out too well, but if you got it right, then it was a lot quicker than growing a clone from the baby stage.
Seeing as these had been released early, it probably meant their memories or intended function hadn’t been fully uploaded. They still knew well enough how to attack a threat, however. I ducked as one lobbed a discarded tool at me before my boots powered me forward. Like a ram, I slammed him into one of the vats, cracking the glass. Now I was in the back left corner. While he was winded, I grabbed his face and held his head to the glass so that I could look down my intended path.
Absolutely thick with them. A few hundred feet of nothing but confused and aggressive clones, milling around trying to find weaponry. At the end of this underground area, there were metal stairs leading up to a raised room from both walkway sides - and it looked as though that’s where the armory was located.
“Rats have invaded the cellar. Kill them with impunity, children!”
The crackling and manic voice once again. Cliche would dictate that the villain behind this scheme was either in the lowest or highest point of the building… which made the necessary four supers seem rather overkill. Ego aside, I was pretty sure I’d be able to solo this. Doubly so if I had the kind of strength any of the group did.
Arm went up as the first handful of clones charged toward me. They’d managed to open up a cabinet or something that had a variety of makeshift weapons in. Tools or broken metal poles. Anything to give themselves a better chance than using bare hands.
Overcharge buzzed into life, and I clicked the trigger.
Fist-sized hole through the torsos of four clones, an increased explosive force detonating and taking another two down in a shower of blood and internal organs. Shell out and new one in. I strode toward the gathering groups.
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Could have probably stayed back and kept on firing at the ones in range, but eventually I’d lose effectiveness anyway. Or they’d turn tail and run. Getting myself closer ran the risk of being bogged down in melee, but it also kept them interested in me.
I rolled across the ground over broken glass as a shot rang out, striking metal plating on a nearby machine. Looked like I’d have to start using the clones as human shields as well. From my crouching position, I emptied out a Slug into the legs of those approaching. Part of me disconnected at this point. A sick joke.
The questions now screaming in the back of my mind, but I reminded myself to focus on the task. I waded into the fray. Lashed forward with my gun-arm. Broke bones. Shots fired and tore muscle from cartilage. Tripped and crushed them beneath my boots. Ground slick with blood and fragmented clone parts.
Taken some damage myself, but not enough to even have the stims kick in. Most of their impromptu weapons couldn’t even scratch me through my layers of clothing. Something sharp had cut the side of my head, and I might have taken a pistol shot to the left arm - but I just kept moving. Could start to see the indecision and fear in their eyes.
Maybe half-way through and to the stairs. Some had organized on the steps ready to have a clearer shot at me. Would be pragmatic for them to just mow through the remaining clones to seal the deal, but their empathy for their fellow brethren was a weakness.
Clara: Rockslide is in the basement clearing up.
Clara: Report ground floor situation.
PHG-Belle: Contained, few rooms remain.
Little-Wren: Exits clear, have disabled potential escape vehicle.
//Clara: Rockslide might need your assistance.
I blocked the swing of a pole with my forearm before jabbing the assailant in the ribs with my muzzle. Instead of unloading, I just lashed out with my fist, twisting his jaw and sending him to the metal plated floor. Rather than continue my dissociated spree, I turned to the side and powered up Overcharge.
The shot burst through the empty vat, shattering the glass and collapsing the supporting metal struts, even powerful enough to do the same on the other side of the central part of the machinery. With a respectable grunt, I hoisted myself up onto the broken platform created and stepped across to the other side - only just avoiding a hail of gunfire as I rose above all others. I dropped amidst a group of surprised clones as Roxy threw one across the floor towards me. A swift boot to the face had him out for the count.
[Why are you holding back?]
I ducked a reckless punch as I ejected the magazine into my hand. Flat edge of my gun-arm blocked the follow-up right before I smashed him in the mouth with the held mag, breaking teeth and sending him stumbling away.
“I’m not… I’m not like you.” Her kick sent a clone rolling away, clearly breaking some of his ribs, before she lifted a second man up and threw him over to the other walkway.
Although it would be a bad idea to encourage her to go down the dark path I was on, it ground at my gears to see her use her power so inefficiently. Clicked my Tazer magazine in and fired the first shell at the back of the group that was trying to surround her. The disabling jolt danced with arcs of blue, stunning three of them and allowing the super to knock them down easily.
[The League requires you to only use your fists?]
With a gut-punch to a clone that probably tore internal organs apart, she stepped over to me during a brief break in the violence where the morale of the clones had started to waver.
“Sorta, yeah. I don’t know.” She shook her hands out and grimaced down at the rest of the room. “Part of being a superhero is playing a role. Tomboy hardass who punches shit, is what is expected of me. Public image.”
[Are you visible to the public right now?]
“I get your point, Dubs, but I’m not about to pick up a steel pole and start smashing heads apart.” There was something else she was chewing on to say, but kept it to herself.
Her point was reasonable, even if diluted by the fact that she still broke bones and gave people serious internal injuries. Wasn’t even worth mentioning that I had witnessed her destroy the ocular region of the clone she pelted with my Rubber shot. I couldn’t expect her to be any more of a cold-blooded killer than she could expect me to be a dutiful sidekick. That said, I would have to play their little game for a while longer. For as long as I could bear it - which was an hourglass almost devoid of sand by now.
[Understood. As your sidekick, I will endeavor to tone it down a little.]
“Dubs, that’s not what I’m-”
We both turned at the sound of alarms. The wide doorways at the top of the metal stairs had started to close as flashing red lights painted the panicked faces of the retreating clones.
//Clara: Armed clones are heading up, probably to protect the villain.
Clara: Armed contact ground floor, be advised.
I turned my head to Roxy as she grunted and pulled at one of the closed vats. With a squeal of tearing metal, she tore it away from the wall, to arrange the metal side of it in front of her horizontally like a ram.
“Care for an escort?” she asked, a wide grin on her face.
Despite the wavering disagreement on how to approach the wholesale defeat of the clone army, I’d rather get out of here and have this whole thing done than bicker like… well, a super. I gave her a nod and stepped aside.
Her boots dug into the metal floor, buckling some of the plate, before she launched forward. I followed in her wake as she charged and barreled through the confused groups ahead. It looked as though the clones who weren’t fully cooked had stuck around while the ones with some sense had guns and were on the other side of the almost closed door.
It was an effective way to travel, and I didn’t even need to finish off the ones she bowled over. They sprawled around the walkway, knocked out or too injured to be a threat anymore.
I found myself wondering how such a place could grow in the city without anyone finding out sooner. This didn’t even seem like something a super needed to solve. Military could probably clear the clones just as effectively, or a single hero could drop in and find the villain.
But… maybe I was being too self centered - this was a test for them, not me. Was easy to imagine a narrative that the League had arranged the housewarming so that the supers would be together before dropping the job on them. I was just an unexpected tag-along to what was probably normal League bullshit for them.
Even as we neared the stairs, I wasn’t quite satisfied with that thought either.
//W: League knows I am here, correct?
//Clara: Correct.
//W: Have they asked anything about me?
//Clara: …nothing through to me at least.
//Clara: Focus, Mr Dubs. You’re doing exceptionally well.
I let any further communication hang. If I were the League, I’d be shouting on all channels, trying to find out who this wasteland reject was, why they didn’t have any records on any databases, and why were they murdering a bunch of clones alongside my supers.
It was the smoking gun that I couldn’t ignore any longer. There was only so much disbelief I could suspend, and the whole time since she had landed beside my house, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I’d reached my limit and wanted away from this madness.
With a grunt, Roxy threw the dented vat into the last clones gathered on the metal steps. They clattered and fell down amongst the broken glass and bodies of their brethren. I took a quick glance behind us to see that some of the others on the other walkway had been brave enough to circle all the way around to our side, but had been too apprehensive to get close and invoke our wrath. Somewhat sad in a way.
“Reinforced, but shouldn’t be an issue.” She stretched out her arms as she looked at the closed barricade. “I’ll need you for these guys with guns. Seems more of your thing.”
I said nothing, stepping up the metal stairs slowly.
She sighed, about to tangle with the door without my blessing - but as she went to move forward, I grabbed her shoulder to turn and push her against the thick metal door. Her eyebrows raised as I lowered my hand.
“Woah, Dubs. If you wanted to get hot and heavy you should…” the confused smile faded from her face as she looked down at the gun-arm muzzle now pressing just beneath her rib-cage.
The chamber on the side clacked open and a Sanguine stake twirled in my left hand.
[You need to tell me what is really going on. Now.]