Emily Wilson
Stories
6
Chapters
1,139
Words
357.3 K
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0
Reading
1 d, 5 h
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The damage Behemoth was wreaking in New Delhi was, I thought, a microcosm of what was happening all over the world. Three or four attacks a year, since the Simurgh had appeared. The fight with Leviathan in Brockton Bay had been a good day. We’d lost people, we’d lost good capes, but we’d more or less bounced back, made it three-quarters of the way back to where we needed to be, in a matter of months. There had been ugliness, infighting, a hell of a lot of doubt, but we’d started to make our way…-
167 •
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Particulate said something, and the amount of Phir Sēsaid something in response, his voice calm, almost as though he were talking to a child, then took another drink of his water. His eyes didn’t leave the screens. Behemoth had nearly reached India Gate. The defense continued to be staggered. One to four parahumans working together to slow him, to impede his progress and buy time for the others to wear him down. When they failed, the measures circumvented or the capes in question killed, he advanced,…
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167 •
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Eidolon and Alexandria had settled into something of a rhythm. Though his powerset was similar to Alexandria’s on the surface, the eerie noises and the dimming of the light around the areas his punches landed suggested he was transmuting the kinetic energy of his punches into something else altogether. Between Eidolon’s strikes and Alexandria’s, Behemoth couldn’t quite adapt to the point where he was redirecting every strike, let alone the barrage of ranged attacks that the other capes in the area…
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167 •
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If I’d had any doubt it was Alexandria, it was banished when she followed up the attack. Behemoth started to rise to his feet, and Alexandria struck. It wasn’t a punch with a great deal of wind-up, and she only crossed fifty or sixty feet before driving it home, but the impact was undeniable. Behemoth absorbed the blow, and redirected it into the ground. He didn’t move, as though the blow had never struck home, but the ground around him shattered like the surface of a mirror. Fragments of rock and…
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167 •
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Couldn’t catch up, not with the Undersiders mounted and us on foot. I could fly, but I couldn’t abandon this team. If Tecton hadn’t deferred leadership to me, I might have taken on a scouting role, flying ahead, notifying the Undersiders. This was the worst environment for me. There were bugs aplenty, but the area was thick with smoke, and there were fires everywhere. Bugs weren’t going to contribute much. They were getting roasted, by hot air and scorching smoke if not the fires themselves.. I…
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167 •
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Lightning ripped across the landscape, following its own path, independent, breaking every rule that electricity was supposed to follow. It danced over the outside surfaces of houses, running across concrete and leaving glassy scorch marks in its wake. It touched objects that should have grounded it, channeling it into the earth, but leaped for another target instead. The Yàngbǎn raised their hands, already reacting. The forcefields absorbed the worst of the energy. Cody was already moving to use the…
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167 •
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The waiting was the worst part. My restlessness was cranked up to eleven, cooped up in the craft with Defiant and Dragon, waiting to cross half the world. Dragon was focused on piloting the craft, unable to speak, in any event. Defiant was busy communicating, which translated to being inaudible as he kept the vents of his mask closed. From the images on the monitor, he was clearly tracking who was coming, our forces, the Endbringer and the high-risk areas. I watched for a time, saw the cape count rise. A…
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167 •
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“I’m so sorry I’m late. I never do this,” Mrs. Yamada said. She entered the office, a raincoat, boots and a messenger bag in her arms, her hair a touch damp, clearly flustered. “What a way to start us off. I’m so embarrassed.” “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” I knew right away that it wasn’t her office. It just didn’t fit her, in any sense. She was average in height for a woman, which put her a little taller than most Japanese women, her hair cut…
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167 •
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“Mr. Chambers? Weaver’s here to see you.” He called out from the opposite end of the room, “Send her in!” I ventured into his realm, staring around me as I entered the space that was apparently the hub of costume design and marketing for the PRT. The wall to my left had a map of North America. Cities had been identified, with clusters of portraits around each major city. Protectorate members on top, Wards on the bottom. To my right, there were glass cases showing off costume designs, old and…
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167 •
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Every part of the Las Vegas team’s reaction to our arrival screamed dissatisfaction. Folded arms, the way none of them would meet our eyes, the very way they were positioned, so they were just enough in our way to make it clear they didn’t agree with what was going on, but not so close as to be Except it wasn’t Satyrical, Satyr for short, wore a helmet sculpted to look like a goat’s head, the mouth in a perpetual smile. On a good day, I imagined his eyes were bright with mischief, his shaped…
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