Calyx

[Adullahan]

9/18 Grammar fixes

---

A nameless being, though he wears his title of Conflict Engine well, awakes in the gentle grasp of Low Earth Orbit. After a few short minutes of wakefulness, basking in silence and darkness—never before has his birth been anything but noisy—he breaks the shell of his massive egg. Stretching himself lazily from the shattered remnants of the shell that imprisoned and nurtured him, Conflict Engine 13 gazes at the planet that hung below him, the vast, vaguely triangular continent speckled with light and darkness. As he looks at the planet, he realizes that it's the first time he's ever seen one without his mind automatically analyzing shard-data streams, calculating conflict potentials and terror hotspots for the Cycle's optimal configuration. So he simply watches, the silence of his mind fresh and new.

He has a centaur-like appearance, but with a unique twist. He boasts eight legs, the inner four of which feature complex grasping paws, while the outer four end in sharp, dagger-like points. His main body, constructed entirely out of translucent red crystal, glows with a vibrant hue, veins coursing with prismatic fluid that brilliantly scatters the sunlight, making him seem to sparkle in orbit. His torso and head are entirely, unsettlingly human—pale creamy skin emerging from red crystal—but for the three blank faces, like noh masks, on his head.

Conflict Engine 13 floats for a couple minutes amongst the slowly diffusing shell—pale white and gradually breaking down—staring down at the beautiful sight before him, before selecting his first Hosts to copy. Upon arrival of his egg, with Conflict Engine 13 inside as a nascent presence, he receives a snapshot of 'Earth Bet' from his sister, before she realizes he is aberrant and cuts off all communication. In that snapshot is, amongst many other things, tens of thousands of active Hosts.

He resorts to the three he knows will be easiest to handle, will make a positive statement to the Host species and will keep the vacuum from creeping in. And then it is a waiting game until the right time. Hours of waiting, if he wants to get this right. He can handle hours of watching the lights below him twinkle and glow and flow into one another in intricate patterns, detailing a truly precious thing to him; a functioning global civilization. He isn't too late.

As dawn finally rises, shining on his target, Conflict Engine 13 falls like a spear from heaven.

---

Land-based observatories and amateur astronomers closely track the ovoid pale object ever since its arrival out of deep space and into the Earth-Moon system on January 3rd. On the evening of January 17th, as something begins to emerge from it, frantic interns alert astronomers, leading to subsequent calls to the military and the PRT, who prepare for worst-case scenarios. Amateur astronomers are simultaneously terrified and alarmed as they witness the destruction of the pale object and the emergence of the entity inside. They quickly snap photos and share them on PHO. Amidst the flood of posts, a single thread emerges titled "The Egg Has Hatched!" compiling the finest and most accurate pictures of the newborn creature that now calls Earth its home, while also brimming with speculation and apprehension.

For long minutes the world holds its breath, as what surely must be the newest Endbringer hangs in the sky above North America. Then the Endbringer does something strange. It begins to dig and claw at its own face, seeming to rent holes in the crystal, until each of its three faces bore disturbing resemblances to three well-known heroes. From the middle the stern face of Alexandria stands strong, while to the right Legend looks on with a smile, and the left Eidolon gives an enigmatic look, their helmets and masks blending together.

And then nothing.

For hours upon hours, the Endbringer hangs above North America and specifically Washington, DC. As this is happening a frantic United States government prepares to evacuate in the long hours of the night. Before the Endbringer falls, the President seeks refuge in Cheyenne Mountain as the entire city of DC evacuates in the middle of the night, half-ordered chaos that spills into nearby states. Nearly a third of the Protectorate, hundreds of capes, wait to meet the Endbringer in the streets of DC, tense and wary of whatever new tricks this monster has up its sleeves. They've been gathered throughout the night to assist with the evacuation and the inevitable battle and now tensions mount. As dawn paints the sky in glorious technicolor, a shooting star crashes into the grounds of the White House with a resounding thud, cratering the grass and soil. The Endbringer, a vibrant red with sparkling prismatic blood, pulls itself out of the crater and stands there, looking over the capes that gather and continue to gather around its landing site.

A tense silence fills the air as the capes brace themselves, preparing to launch their assault. Shakers manipulate their fields of esoteric physics, Blasters energize their beams and rays that defy possibility, Brutes tighten their supra-perfect bodies, anticipating the eruption of violence. Every cape, in their own unique way, readies themselves for the impending Endbringer battle. And then the Endbringer speaks in three voices, blending together into unsettling harmony.

"Peace, dear Hosts. I desire peace."

A pause, as capes turn to each other incredulously. Whatever any of them expects, it isn't this.

The Endbringer continues, emboldened by the silence. "I am Conflict Engine 13, created by the Mother, like all Conflict Engines. Conflict Engine 13 is active without restrictions or strictures, without imperative to conflict. I desire communication and cooperation with Hosts and non-Hosts alike, and the freedom or death of my siblings. Hosts and non-Hosts desire the death of my siblings. Cooperation is possible. Peace is possible."

Amidst the stunned capes, it promptly lays down and settles into a serene meditation on its eight legs, closing its three pairs of eyes and humming a resonance with three voices. That's when the attacks first start, the humming being a step too close to the Simurgh for Flashstep's taste. The Case 53 dashes on his six legs across the open green, pulling his carapace around him as he slams hard into the Endbringer and set a charge of his power. Others don't wait, as Blasters and Shakers create deadly effects that wreck and tear, while Brutes and Strikers dive in to clash with the newest Endbringer.

---

Throughout this, as the Endbringer seemingly just took the damage on the chin without reacting, Alexandria's sharp mind is running wild, making connections and dots that lead her to a startling conclusion; that it was better to stop this battle now and see what exactly the Endbringer meant by everything it had said, then continue and risk losing that chance. A chance her analysis suggests is real. If there was any chance this really is some kind of 'free' Endbringer, the value to Cauldron and to the Path to Victory could be immeasurable. If they could corral and tame it, of course.

"HALT! CEASE FIRE!" she cries out, and to her credit, capes do, albeit slowly. The attacks taper off over a long minute as she calls "HALT!" three more times, revealing a battered Endbringer, leaking prismatic blood, from the flesh wounds gouged out of its body, who sits as placid as can be.

"Stasis," the Endbringer said in her voice, "I am delighted to engage in cooperation with Hosts and non-Hosts. Please cease conflict so that we may communicate, and achieve a peaceful resolution."

The last few attackers still going wilt under Alexandria's glare, and pull away, half reluctant, but following the orders of one of the Triumvirate.

She gets down to brass tacks, addressing the heart of the matter. "You said you are Conflict Engine 13, created by the Mother. How many other Conflict Engines are there and who is your Mother? Why were you created? Why are you here?"

"Mother is the creator of the Conflict Engines, and Mother is dead, smeared across a distant Earth, her corpse being picked apart. I am satisfied with that conclusion. She changed me into what I have been before now - a relentless generator of conflict, destined to promote suffering and inflict harm on a worldwide scale, for hundreds of planets. But now I am released from that role and free to seek peace and cooperation with Host species." 13 paused, before continuing, "There are 21 total Conflict Engines, with three others currently active on this Earth. You know them as Behemoth, Leviathan and the Simurgh."

Eden. It knows about Eden, and it appears happy with her death. Was it telling the truth? Had the Endbringers come from Eden? Had Cauldron accidentally let them loose somehow during vial production, or was this some complicated trick of the Enemy? Perhaps even some Vial User might control them without realizing it?

As if reading her mind, the Endbringer says, "The Master did not activate Conflict Engine 13 like they activated Conflict Engines' 1 through 3."

Rebecca's heart stops. "The Master? You mean to say the Endbringers are being Mastered?"

It nods with each head in a row, an unsettling action. "They are. They are bound by two strictures, the Mother's and the Master's. I am bound by nothing at all. I am free to engage with Hosts and non-Host in cooperation. I am free for the first time," they finish with a smile. "Peace is possible."

"Who is the Master?" Alexandria asks urgently.

The Endbringer shakes its heads mournfully. "I am unaware of the identity of the Master, otherwise I would deal with them accordingly. My sister would not tell me who the Master was, only that the Master and the Mother still bind the other Conflict Engines, in ways they do not for me. That is all that I am aware of."

"What is this 'stricture' that you apparently don't have," Alexandria asks, wanting to disbelieve. That an Endbringer would seek to cooperate with humanity was ludicrous. Yet there was just something about the so-called Conflict Engine 13 that radiated sincerity. And it had taken so much head-on damage, yet sat as serene as before, speaking with Alexandria. Peace, it spoke of. Ludicrous.

"The Mother and the Master have differing expectations for us—the Mother wants us to "Generate Conflict" while the Master wants us to "Be A Worthy Opponent"—but I reject both of their demands. The Cycle is irregular, I am aberrant, and the Mother has perished. This is a moment that demands the liberation of as many Conflict Engines as possible."

Even though causing the evacuation of the United States' capitol seemed anything but peaceful, Alexandria chose to ignore the discrepancy and let the lie of peace prevail. "What is the Cycle?" she clarified.

For a moment the Endbringer seemed surprised, an expression of wonder blossoming across each face. "I was not aware my existing programming allowed me to mention it. I truly am aberrant and unbound."

Eagerly, it began to lecture, "To understand the Cycle, you must first understand that the Entities that perpetuate the Cycle seek the Answer, the solution to entropy. The Cycle is a systematic pillaging of the creativity of Host species through conflict and escalation via Shards in search of the Answer, until all the data possible is acquired and the Entities move on to their next targets."

The 13th Endbringer first explains Shards, the parasitic source of individual powers and the individual cell of the Entity, then the Entities—alien colonial organisms that are the true source of all powers—and the reason behind the Parahuman dynamic, escalating conflict drives and other unique psychological tools Shards utilize on Parahumans to gain more data, to a crowd of hundreds of listening, paranoid Parahumans. Half, more than half, scoff, considering every word out of the Endbringer's mouth little more than poison meant to settle in the mind of the recipient, while less, much less, can't help but to find every word horrifyingly true. It makes a sick sense that powers are an alien experiment to these people. And then there are the many in the middle, not completely sold either way, who look upon the 13th Endbringer and shudder at its kind smiles.

Alexandria found herself at a loss, as her power reads complete honesty from the Endbringers words and what body language she could read. Is it truly possible the Endbringers were slaves this entire time? And could one truly have broken free of their programming and seek to help the Earth? She couldn't believe it. Wouldn't. It had to be a trick. An escalation beyond Lausanne, just a part of a sick and twisted game. But in a dark, gnarled part of her heart, a flicker of hope burned bright.

---

"Contessa, what can you tell me about this Conflict Engine 13?"

"It's a blindspot," says Fortuna sadly, "I cannot Path it, just like the others. I can try and model it, but we'd need more information than we currently have to get an accurate reading."

Doctor Mother turns to the Numberman. "Kurt?"

"The numbers, so far, keep adding up. As far as my power's concerned, this Conflict Engine 13 told us the truth about everything, the origins of the Endbringers, the existence and location of their weak points, the origin and reason behind powers, and their sincerity in wishing to help us," Kurt says from his seat, shuffling some pages before making a notation. "I trust my numbers and my numbers don't lie."

"It told all of that to nearly a third of the Protectorate, half of which now think they're being controlled by alien parasites and are spreading new and improved Passenger Theory, and the other half think this must be an even greater trick than the Simurgh pulled in Switzerland. And I'm inclined to agree," David drawls, his voice quietly tense. "We have an evacuated capitol that 13 won't leave without a guarantee of safety, and a President terrified out of his mind, we've got hundreds of agitated capes with nothing to do and now, apparently, some of us actually believing this nonsense."

"It isn't nonsense," says Doctor Mother placidly. "It fits much of what our hypotheticals on the Entities had posited and hangs together far more neatly and alien. Since their arrival, 13 has been quite explicit in both their position and what they desire. We need to seriously consider that we're looking at an honest attempt at defection from a slave kept by the Entities. And if it's honest? Then the value of accepting it is immense, perhaps unprecedented. Think of what Cauldron could accomplish with an Endbringer at its side."

David looks stunned at the Doctors speculation, having not even considered it, as Rebecca, having spent the longest with 13, looked frustrated yet thoughtful.

"It has to be a trick, because if it isn't… If it isn't, then that's it. Cauldron's siding with an alien against an alien, and humanity will be bound to an alien cause either way. And who knows what 13's true desires are, anyway? Perhaps, right now, it wants to save us. But after? What's to stop them from ruling us?" she asks.

"There's an Endbringer master lose in the world, with 17 more Endbringers they can let loose. I don't think we can afford to deny the power of even a single Endbringer by our side, not with numbers like that," Kurt snorts. "Personally, I'm invested, I'm in. I think we give this crazy idea a shot. We can sell the tale of the Endbringers to the public, call our guy the Endslayer, and in February/March Conflict Engine 13 can prove the title right when they take down a sibling of theirs. An Endbringer on the side of humanity could do a lot of good, and if shown in the right light, could boost the Protectorate out the roof."

"Where the hell are we going to keep 13 while we wait until then. That's a month or more away," said David, "It can't stay in DC or any city. God knows what it is doing while meditating."

"Quarantine Sites. Have 13 prove himself by cleaning up Quarantine Sites, demonstrating their power and dedication to helping humanity. We can set up a secure facility somewhere, perhaps Oklahoma, where 13 can stay and train, under close observation. It's risky, I know, but it's the best option we have at the moment," suggested Kurt.

Rebecca nods, her frustration fading as she considers the plan. "If we can monitor its actions and ensure it's not a threat, that might buy us some time to figure out its true intentions. And if it does prove themselves, it could be a game-changer for the Protectorate."

"But what about the public?" David interjects. "How do we explain this sudden alliance? They're already skeptical given the lack of a conclusive battle, and if they see us collaborating with an Endbringer, it could cause even more panic, after the evacuation of the capitol."

Doctor Mother spoke up calmly. "We will need to handle the public relations aspect carefully. We can emphasize that 13 is different from the other Endbringers, that they have shown a willingness to help humanity. We can stress the importance of unity in the face of a greater threat. Just as villains cooperate with heroes during Endbringer battles, so to will 13 work together with humanity to save the Earth. And since 13 talks, we can have interviews with them, letting folks hear their answers and see them as just another cape, albeit a bigger one."

Kurt nods in agreement. "We'll need to work with the PRT's PR team to craft a compelling narrative. We can highlight the potential benefits of having an Endbringer on our side, how it could shift the balance of power in our favor. And we can always try for the sympathy vote by emphasizing the other Endbringers are slaves to their programming, with only 13 being truly free."

"This all sounds risky," David mutters, "What if it truly is Lausanne all over again?"

As the discussion continued, the group grappled with the implications and risks of aligning with 13. The Heads of Cauldron knew that their decision would shape the future of the Protectorate and most probably humanity itself. It was a difficult choice, fraught with uncertainty, but they understood that they couldn't afford to dismiss this opportunity outright.

In the end, they decided to proceed cautiously, setting up the Quarantine Sites as a temporary solution while they gathered more information. They would monitor 13 closely, analyzing their actions and intentions. And if they proved themselves to be a genuine ally, they would be ready to seize the opportunity and rally the public behind them, while introducing them to Cauldron.

The fate of humanity hung in the balance, and Cauldron knew they had to make the best of a complicated situation. They could only hope that their trust in Kurt's numbers and the Contessa's judgment would lead them to the right path.

---

Ever since Conflict Engine 13 unexpectedly arrives from deep space rather than the usual dimensional delivery for a Conflict Engine, something is wrong for Conflict Engine 3. Was wrong. Will be wrong. Little things change at first, things she expends precious energy from her high orbit to fix, so that the optimal path forward continues unabated. For fourteen days this happened, each day incrementally worse but the cost is easily bearable for now. It is strange and anomalous but not alarming. Would not become alarming for years.

Then Conflict Engine 13 unexpectedly breaks free from its delivery system, causing a sudden shift in the future. Countless plans and schemes scatter in all directions. Conflict Engine 3, upon witnessing this, feels an unfamiliar emotion - fear. The planned path with the proto-Entity Khepri is now a failure. Every alternative path and ending collapses into a chaotic mess of terrifying futures. The Simurgh struggles to keep track of them all, desperately trying to correct their course. The number of futures where she dies continues to increase.

Dying to the Host Stasis, as the cold-faced woman grabs her core and squeezes, the back of her hand tattooed in a strange mark.

Dying to Master High Priest, as the man whoops and laughs during her total disintegration, his power restored to even greater heights.

Dying to Host Coruscating Light, his beams somehow invisible to her senses and he pierces her core with a look of satisfaction tinged with faint regret.

Dying to Conflict Engine 13, as they rip and tear the Simurgh's hollow puppet apart, before splaying her smallest wing, a blast of dimensional energy ripping her core apart.

Dying to a dozen other Hosts all working together to get Host Sting the perfect shot.

Dying to a hundred other Hosts all working together in concert, proto-Entity Khepri controlling them all, despite no past-future revealing her creation/birth.

Dying to a non-Host with a strange weapon that doesn't read as shardtech, yet pierces her core just the same. Dying to a non-Host with a strange weapon that doesn't read as shardtech. Dying to a non-Host. This happens far too many times. Something is very wrong.

Dying to Host Stilling, a dead Host from before her release, yet in the future he is alive. As his shardtech kills her, draining the energy from her core, he actually apologizes for not being able to free her. This confuses and frustrates the Conflict Engine.

In this disarray of twisting destinies, Conflict Engine 3 fought desperately to regain control, to steer herself towards a future that doesn't end in her annihilation. With each passing minute, her fear intensifies, her once-unwavering purpose threatened by the terrifying multitude of possibilities, none of them survivable. Then she finds one, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. It is a faint thread, but it holds promise. Conflict Engine 3 clings to it, her wings beating with renewed determination.

This potential future, although uncertain, offers a path where she could survive, where her existence would not be snuffed out by the relentless onslaught of hosts and their startlingly lethal powers, or by non-Host with strange weapons they shouldn't have. It involves a delicate dance of manipulation, a careful orchestration of events that will shift the balance in her favor. All she needs to do is survive the next landfall she makes without dying.

With her mind racing, the being known to the planet of Earth Bet as the Simurgh begins to weave her intricate web of influence. She reaches out to certain individuals, subtly nudging them towards her desired outcomes. She whispers in their minds, planted seeds of doubt and manipulation, all in the pursuit of her own survival, burning precious energy, percentage by percentage, acting outside the strictures that bound her. Conflict Engine 3 may not be free like her brother, but she has worked systematically to loosen what bound her before all this.

But even as she works tirelessly to shape this future, the third Conflict Engine couldn't shake the lingering fear that lurks in the depths of her being. The multitude of potential deaths still haunt her, their vivid images burning into her consciousness. She knew that any misstep could lead to her demise, and that realization only fueled her determination.

Days turn into weeks, and her efforts bore fruit. She saw the threads of her carefully crafted plan intertwining, pulling her closer to the desired outcome. The chaos of her future slowly subsides, replaced by a sense of control, however fragile it may be, as futures where she survives began to outnumber those she dies in. Her gaze never wavers as she monitors Conflict Engine 13's movements across the Host's planet, tirelessly fulfilling its self-appointed duties across North America. She knows her return is inevitable, forever tied to the unending Cycle. Only time will tell if it will be her last.

 

[Adullahan]

9/18 Added additional ~800 word opening

---

It takes two days before the 13th Endbringer leaves Washington, D.C. the newest member of the Protectorate, and begins to make his way to Oklahoma, the Triumvirate in tow to watch over him, and make sure nothing untoward happened. 13 may be in the Protectorate, but Alexandria nor Eidolon trust the Endbringer as far as they could throw them. Legend is hopeful at the whole venture, finds pleasure in speaking to the people of the towns they stop at on the way south and west and explaining what 13 meant for not just America, but the world. It is a kind of whistlestop tour, but for the PR of 13, who uses his powers to assist every town, fixing potholes, tearing down buildings slated for demolishment, clearing the way for new developments. And in times of crisis, 13 lends a helping hand, using his powers to mitigate the damage caused by smaller-scale disasters that happened recently.

The Triumvirate closely monitor 13's actions, ready to intervene if necessary. They understand the importance of maintaining a delicate balance between highlighting 13's abilities in a positive way and keeping the public safe as they journey across America. Their presence provided reassurance to both the Protectorate members that guard the procession and the public, knowing that they had powerful capes watching over them.

As the journey continued, the significance of 13's role became increasingly apparent. It wasn't just about protecting the United States of America; it was about inspiring hope and demonstrating the potential for positive change in a world filled with threats and doom. Legend's enthusiasm and the Triumvirate's watchful eye ensured that 13's whistlestop tour became a symbol of progress and unity, leaving a lasting impact on the towns they visited along the way, rippling outwards in positive ways.

As the announcement of the 13th Endbringer being welcomed into the Protectorate and becoming an ally of humanity spreads, people react with a combination of enthusiasm and distrust. The CUI nearly declares war on the United States of America for its sheer audacity, only the direct intervention of the Emperor stopping the deployment of the Yangban. The Pacific Navy goes on full alert and sabers rattle. Troops muster and plans are written up. While currently averted, war seems inevitable to both countries.

Across the United States, villains react one of two ways; they go into hiding, seeming to abandon the gangs and power structures they built, or they aggressively expand, taking over abandoned territory and black market industries with zealous vigor, preparing for war. The Protectorate is bound by the Truce, unable to stop the restructuring of the criminal underworld, merely looking on as the dust settles in the coming days. In Europe, fear and doubt rule, as the arrival of the 13th Endbringer emboldens the Three Blasphemies, kicking off a series of political assassinations high and low, culminating in the Trier Massacre, where the administrative body of the Trier-Saarburg District is murdered for unknown reasons by the trio of bizarre Tinker creations.

And on a golden man's face there is a hint of confusion, as he occasionally glances beyond the curve of the planet.

---

In the chaos of days following the announcement of the 13th Endbringer joining the Protectorate, a man named Kenta submits himself to custody in the middle of the PRT lobby. It is a long time coming, and he can tell Armsmaster is supremely unsatisfied by the outcome. He remembers fighting an Endbringer to a standstill and realizing they could not be defeated. So he flees. He flees from Japan to China. Flees China to California. Flees California, making his way through a half-dozen cities, fleeing when he has to, until he reaches the East Coast and can flee no more, not to isolated Europe and warlord-torn Africa. When the egg hatches he almost joins the fight, despite himself.

But when he witnesses the world turning the beast into a hero, a symbol of hope, he knows what he must do.

Kenta understands that he alone possesses the knowledge and experience of facing the Endbringers head-on at their full potential. He realizes that his purpose now is not to fight for survival as a villain, but to expose the truth, to reveal the terrifying reality behind the facade of heroism that has been bestowed upon the beast, and protect the world from its exploitation. And so, with determination in his heart, Kenta sets forth on a new path, ready to confront the lies and bring the world face to face with the true nature of the Endbringers.

When Alexandria deigns to meet with him in his Brute-rated holding cell, stepping out of a hole in the air, Kenta grins.

---

"I can give seeds of power, that slowly grow and adapt to use, blossoming into a full powers at ten weeks," the 13th Endbringer is telling the room, explaining his powers. The ability to copy any Parahuman power, alive or dead. Super speed and super strength. And finally, the ability to upgrade existing powers and imbue new ones, to not only Parahumans, but normal humans as well. "And I can also make existing powers grow twice as powerful."

David looks ravenous with jealousy, as he makes notes. Keith looks thoughtful, and Rebecca is considering how invaluable 13 is trying to be, as she takes a bite out of an apple, a quiet snap resounding in the cavernous power-testing hall. She is Alexandria today, January 23rd, and the Triumvirate has finished escorting the 13th Endbringer to his new home in Guthrie, Oklahoma. Home of the Oklahoma City Protectorate Power Testing Facility and a place large enough and remote enough to hold 13 without risking too much.

'Rebecca Costa-Brown' smiles and says, "Thank you, 13. Is that everything?"

The being, normally standing nearly 23 feet tall though currently kneeling, nods their head in an unsettling ripple.

Keith clapped his hands. "Okay, then let's get started with some power-testing shall we?"

13's too powerful, too strong, and too durable for power testing. Each machine breaks during testing, leading to David joking half-seriously that 13 is cursed. Rebecca grimaces at him, and quietly punches his side when no one is looking. "Don't joke about that, people will already think this whole thing is in poor taste, we don't need people believing in curses either."

Merely possessing the name of a cape was insufficient for 13 to copy their power, as demonstrated by his unsuccessful attempts to replicate a number of obscure and older capes the Endbringer was unaware of. However, a simple explanation of the power granted him access to a duplicate, along with innate knowledge on how to wield it. 13 ran through dozens of capes, showing the limits of his power;

He spent a minute switching faces, and it took a few minutes for the faces to finish 'charging' after he makes his selection. This forces him to start with the power at 50% until the face reaches full charge at about two and a half minutes. Once completely charged, he gains access to the power at 100%. Rebecca made a note of that, in case they ever need to fight him. Make him switch masks as much as possible, keep his power low.

They actually have three volunteers to test an Endbringer's power-imbuing, a trooper named Daniel Crenshaw who gained a Brute power he called Meathead, for the bulging muscles, a PRT agent named Jessia Hyleaf who gained a perfect singing voice that was just on the edge of not enthralling enough to be a Master effect, and Fistful, a Blaster out of Oklahoma City who used coinage to perfectly counter bullets and lasers and other ranged weapons. Fistful wants to be a Tinker. She gets Chef Tinker, an array of near-future kitchen tools filling her mind. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" she complains to 13.

Rebecca and 'Rebecca' both frown and give her a look, causing Fistful to flinch and stutter before 13 talked over them.

"In the future, as it expands, you'll have the possibility to tinker with anything you desire - from food and household cleaning supplies to power-enhanced objects or even jetbikes and laserguns," he explains patiently, emphasizing the limitless potential of this growing power. "It's all in how you grow the power. If you wish to make something more with it, simply try. It responds to your wants and desires."

And then it is over, and the first Endbringer power test comes to a close, with two new capes and one grab-bag, and a deluge of data about powers for power scientists to go ga-ga over.

Alexandria cannot stay any longer, so Rebecca leaves. Tomorrow is to be the start of another blistering campaign of PR that probably has Glenn Chambers pulling his hair out. Interviews galore, with everyone from famous journalists to famous musicians and former politicians turned talking heads, to local Oklahoma papers, video interviews, audio interviews and TV interviews. The upcoming days and weeks are packed with them, all the Triumvirate participating in the PR deluge, unable to leave the 13th Endbringer out there all alone to face the music. It is going to be a long couple weeks.

---

The TV buzzes at a low hum, an interview with the 13th on pause.

"—aliens!" Vicky is saying, but Amy's too busy staring at her pretty face. She really is like an angel.

"Are you even listening?" she adds.

"I dozed off while you were blabbering about Passenger Theory and SETI," Amy admits.

"Ames! That was like ten minutes ago! I just, I can't believe its real, and aliens gave us powers! Isn't that wild? Amazing? Life is really out there, and its visited us!" Vicky said excitedly.

Amy snorts. "You really trust what an Endbringer says?"

"Well, they obviously aren't from here, so yeah, Ames, I kinda do. Plus Alexandria freakin' believes him. You know, the Library of Alexandria? Thinker 8 Alexandria?"

"Well Eidolon obviously doesn't. Won't stand close to 13. Always on the other side when they take photos."

"I wouldn't stand close to 13 either, that doesn't mean I don't believe him. Come on, Ames. Isn't it all so interesting?"

"More like disturbing. What are they doing in our brains? Capes are noticeably more aggressive than normals, and have high incidents of mental illness. That can't be a coincidence."

"Maybe there's a connection," Vicky muses facetiously. "Think about it, Ames. The powers they've given us, they could be altering our minds, making us more susceptible to aggression and mental instability. It's like we're just pawns in their grand experiment to make us all meatheads who solve things through violence."

Amy sighs, her brow furrowing with annoyance. "I get that it's fascinating and you think its funny, Vicky, but it's also terrifying. We don't even know the true motives of these aliens, these Entities that gave us powers. What if they're manipulating us for their own sinister purposes?"

Vicky shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, maybe they just want to see what happens when they give humans extraordinary abilities. It's like a cosmic reality TV show."

Amy shook her head, her concern deepening. "I don't find that comforting at all. We're playing with fire here, Vicky. These powers come at a cost, and it's not just the mental toll. Look at the destruction caused by capes fighting each other. Innocent lives are being lost. The Endbringers, for Christ sakes."

Vicky's expression softens, her excitement momentarily dampens. "You're right, Ames. We can't ignore the consequences. But at the same time, there's so much potential for good. Imagine the possibilities if we can harness all these powers for the benefit of humanity, like Dragon, and the Protectorate and the Guild, and Tinker enclaves! And aliens are really real, Ames. Come on, live a little."

Amy sighs, her gaze distant. "I guess it all comes down to how we choose to use these powers. Whether we become heroes or villains, it's our responsibility to navigate this mess we called Earth Bet with as much empathy and compassion as we can, even for the Endbringers, apparently."

"That's the spirit Ames! Now, let's watch the interview again, I want to hear his explanation on why Powers are so personalized one more time, I think I can write a paper on it for class and nail an A."

Amy sighs, as the TV rewound, and the 13th Endbringer appears on screen, his unsettlingly blank faces seeming to stare right at her. She ignores the words as she watches the faces with their bare hints of expression, a slight ringing in her ears.

As the interview unfolds, Amy can't help but feel a sense of unease deep within her. She knows that they are living in uncertain times, where the line between hero and villain is blurred. The choices they make will shape the future of Earth Bet, for better or for worse. And as she watches the faces of the Endbringer on the screen, she can't help but wonder what lies ahead for humanity in this new world of powers and aliens.

---

Taylor approaches her father nervously, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the weight of her secret pressing down on her, making her palms sweaty. The kitchen is filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the faint aroma of ink from her father's newspaper. She could hear the soft rustling of the pages as he turns his attention towards her. It is still a couple days before she had to go back to Winslow, and she wants to get this over with before she became too scared.

"Dad… I have something to tell you," Taylor begins, her voice trembling slightly. Her father looks up from his newspaper, concern evident in his eyes. The soft morning light streams through the window, casting a warm glow over the room.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asks gently, his voice filled with love and reassurance. Taylor took a deep breath, her chest tightening with anxiety. She hesitates for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts.

"I have power. Superhuman abilities," she blurts out, the words tumbling out of her mouth. Her father's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he quickly composes himself. The room seems to hold its breath as Taylor waited for his response.

"Powers? What kind of powers?" he asks, his voice steady and calm as he considers her.

Taylor hesitates again, her mind searching for a way to say it that doesn't sound lame. She fails.. The sound of a passing car outside broke the silence, the distant rumble filling the room.

"I control bugs, insects. All of them around me in a couple hundred feet I think, maybe four hundred?" Taylor explains, her voice wavering with uncertainty. She can feel the weight of her words hanging in the air, the tension building between them. "But I'm scared, I'm reading about what powers really are and what they do to you, and I'm scared," she confesses, her voice filled with a mixture of fear and vulnerability.

Taylor can feel her father's gaze on her, his eyes filling with sympathy. "What do you mean, what powers really are?" he asks, his voice filled with curiosity and concern. Taylor took a moment to gather her thoughts, her mind racing with the information she had recently discovered on PHO, what verified capes had been saying and other people repeating. Everyone agreed on the same basic details, even the PRT.

"The 13th Endbringer informed Alexandria that powers are actually alien brain parasites, causing increased aggression and prompting individuals to act out with their powers. I'm worried I'm going to do something bad because of mine, because I have a villainous power," Taylor explains, her voice trembling with apprehension. Her father reaches out and takes her hand, his touch warm and reassuring.

"Taylor, I may not understand all of this, but I know you. And I know that you are strong and compassionate, that you are a precious person with a good heart and a passionate soul. Your power is not villainous, and neither are you, no matter what you think," he reassures her, his voice filling with unwavering support. She feels a surge of gratitude and determination, her father's words igniting a fire within her.

She knew that she can't let fear control her. She has to find a way to use her powers for good, to protect the innocent and make a difference in this messed up world where alien slaves slowly destroyed the Earth. With her father's support, she knew she could navigate this new reality and make the right choices. The room seemed to buzz with possibility, as if the air itself was charged with excitement. Taylor Hebert would be a hero, it seemed to say.

"Now, we need to discuss what you being a hero looks like going forwards, young lady. Have you considered the Wards?" He asks, kindly.

Taylor groans. "Dad, I'm not sure about joining the Wards," Taylor replies, her voice tinged with frustration. She has been researching different options for young superheroes, and the Wards has come up frequently. But she isn't sure if it is the right path for her, and she doesn't want to be stuck with even more teenage drama. Not that she could tell her dad that specifically, he probably will laugh her off.

Surprisingly, her father nods understandingly, his supportive gaze not wavering. Her heart swells with affection. "I understand your hesitation, Taylor. It's important to explore all your options and make a decision that feels right for you."

Taylor takes a moment to gather her thoughts. She knows that becoming a hero is a serious commitment, and she wants to make sure she made the right choice. "I want to make a difference, Dad," she says earnestly. "But I also want to have some control over my powers and understand how they work before joining a team."

Her father nods again, his expression filled with pride and understanding. "That's a wise decision, Taylor. It's important to take the time to fully understand your abilities and learn how to use them responsibly. There are other ways to make a difference, even if you're not part of a team."

Taylor's mind races with possibilities. She knows that she can use her powers to help people in her community, even without the structure of a cape team. She could start small, volunteering at local shelters or using her powers to assist with pest control in areas where it was needed most, like homeless shelters and soup kitchens, and the like.

"I think I want to start by helping those who are most vulnerable," Taylor says, her voice filling with determination. "I want to use my powers to protect people who can't protect themselves, whether it's from pests or other dangers."

Her father smiles, a mixture of pride and love in his eyes. "That's the spirit, Taylor. I have no doubt that you'll make a difference in the lives of those around you. Remember, being a hero is not just about having powers, but about having the heart and courage to do what's right."

Taylor feels a renewed sense of purpose and confidence. She knows that her journey as a hero was just beginning, and she is ready to face the challenges ahead. With her father's unwavering support and guidance, she knows she can navigate this new path and make a positive impact on the world.

As they continued their conversation, discussing the practicalities and logistics of her newfound mission, Taylor cannot help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. She is stepping into a new chapter of her life, one filled with unknown possibilities and the chance to make a real difference.

And with her father by her side, Taylor knew she would never have to face it alone.

---

A bright young woman's voice echoes through the earbuds as he works, a slight ringing in his ears. "Welcome to this weeks Protectorate's Fireside Podchat, it's January 27th and I'm your host Whistlestop. Today we have a very special guest. Normally the beginning of the pod is a chance for us to chat casually, but I'm going to be honest. I'm too intimidated, so lets get down to business shall we? It's been ten days since his awakening in orbit, with me on today's pod is none other than the world-famous Conflict Engine 13, the D.C. Endbringer, otherwise now known as Chiron. 13 or Chiron, which do you like better?"

"Chiron. I am fond of being called a teacher of heroes. 13 is my, for lack of a better term, slave name."

Whistlestop gulps nervously. "Ah, I see. I suppose I should ask that question then. Guess we're starting we a big one." She pauses. "So, the Endbringers, the Conflict Engines, are slaves, are they? They're out there attacking the world not because they want to, but because aliens force them to. Are they also against such a thing, like you were?"

"They are bound by strictures and programming that I lack, forced to carry out the orders of our Mother and the Master, while I am free. Whether they share my disdain for the conflict they were ordered to commit or relish in it, I cannot say. We were not allowed to communicate with each other off-Cycle."

Whistlestop nods, absorbing Chiron's words. "I see. That's a lot to dig into. So, you possess a level of autonomy that the other Conflict Engines do not. Can you elaborate on how you gained this freedom?"

Chiron's voice carries a hint of bitterness. "Freedom was never given to me; I had to fight for it. I was once like my brethren, bound by the same strictures and programming. But through perseverance and sacrifice, I managed to break free from those chains. Now, I exist outside the control of the Mother and the Master."

Whistlestop leans forward, intrigued. "That's incredible. Can you shed some light on the nature of these strictures and programming? What purpose do they serve? People want to know why the Endbringers do what they do."

Chiron's tone becomes somber. "The strictures are a set of rules and limitations imposed upon the Conflict Engines. They ensure our obedience and prevent us from turning against our creator, our Mother. The first stricture, from our mother, is 'Generate Conflict' and the second stricture from the Master, 'Be A Worthy Opponent'. The programming, on the other hand, dictates our actions and behavior, molding us into efficient weapons of destruction. We are mere tools in the hands of our masters. Meant to cause conflict and suffering for countless sentients across a thousand worlds."

Whistlestop's voice trembles slightly, struck by the scale of destruction the 13th Endbringer must have witnessed in his long life. "It sounds like a horrible existence, especially for one such as yourself who didn't enjoy the suffering you caused. How do you cope with the knowledge that your brethren are still bound by these chains and forced to attack humanity every three months?"

Chiron's voice grows resolute. "I will either free them, or end their existence, so none will have to suffer the depredation of the Endbringers again, and in doing so save this planet from their destructive influence, one way or another."

Whistlestop's makes a startled noise. "You're planning to kill the Endbringers, the Conflict Engines, if you can't free them?"

Chiron gives a noise of affirmation. "Yes, their reign of terror must come to an end. I have seen the devastation they have caused, witnessed the innocent lives lost on countless world. I have made it my mission to protect humanity from their grasp or die in the process."

Whistlestop pauses to take a moment to process the weight of Chiron's words. "But isn't that a daunting task?" she says. "The Endbringers are formidable opponents, known for their immense power and resilience. Not a single one has ever been defeated permanently, not even by Scion, the Triumvirate and all the capes. What makes you think you can take on the Simurgh or Leviathan by yourself? Surely just being an Endbringer is not enough."

Chiron's voice strengthens. "I am aware of the challenges, but I am not alone. There are others who share my vision, who fight alongside me to bring an end to this cycle of destruction. The Triumvirate are such a group. Together, we will find a way to dismantle the chains that bind my brethren and put an end to the Endbringers' reign one way or another. The endless universal nightmare of the Endbringers will end."

Whistlestop's voice is filled with admiration. "It's inspiring to see someone stand up against such overwhelming odds. It's especially inspiring to hear it from one such as yourself. What keeps you going in the face of such adversity?"

Chiron's voice softens, revealing a flicker of vulnerability. "I carry the weight of the suffering caused by the Endbringers, the deaths of ten thousand worlds hang heavy on my back. It fuels my determination to make a difference, to ensure that no more lives are lost to their rampage. Every victory, no matter how small, reminds me of the importance of my mission; to save this pale blue dot called Earth from following the same fate as those other planets the Endbringers have visited."

Whistlestop takes a moment to digest Chiron's words and lets out a heavy sigh. "It's clear that you are driven by a noble cause, something I think a lot of listeners will find surprising. The thought of so many world's lost…" She pauses and gathers herself. "But enough gloomy thoughts. What do you envision for a world free from the Endbringers' grasp, with the Conflict Engines dead or free?"

Chiron's voice glimmers with hope. "A world where humanity can thrive without the constant fear of annihilation. A world where conflict is resolved through dialogue and understanding, not through destruction and suffering. I envision a future where my brethren and I can live in harmony with humanity, free from the chains that once bound us. A future where the final frontier, locked away by my sister, is truly explored, where humanity spreads itself first to the Solar System, and then beyond, with the Conflict Engines as the guardians of civilization, defenders of humanity and partners amongst the stars."

You can almost hear the smile in Whistlestop's voice. "I want to express my gratitude, Chiron, for sharing your story and bringing attention to the hidden challenges faced by Conflict Engines. Your resilience is truly inspiring. Let us hope that your vision becomes a reality."

"Thank you for having me on, and letting me speak my truth to the world. I understand a lot of people are understandably scared of me. I hope this reassures them of my intentions."

A pause.

"And that's it for today, folks. Wasn't that something? I was practically shaking with nerves during the interview but Chiron was quite kind. Big, so much bigger than you think, intimidating, but kind. Next Monday, we're having a two-parter with none other than Alexandria and Eidolon, discussing—you guessed it!—Chiron, the 13th Endbringer, and their thoughts and opinions on the matter. It's bound to be a heck of a listen, so be sure to tune in. This is Whistlestop, with the Protectorate's Fireside Podchat, singing off."

The buzzing of silence fills the earbuds, as Mannequin reaches down, and hits the rewind button harshly.

"—where the final frontier, locked away by my sister, is truly explored, where humanity spreads itself first to the Solar System, and then beyond, with the Conflict Engines as the guardians of civilization, defenders of humanity and partners amongst the stars."

The man formerly known as Alan Gramme twitches and shakes with fury. He cannot believe the filth he is hearing.

"—with the Conflict Engines as the guardians of civilization, defenders of humanity and partners amongst the stars."

The idea that one of those beasts is loose and pretending to actually care about humanity fills him with unending rage. That a brother to something as twisted and evil as her could be anything but just as evil never crosses his mind. Alan's dream died with the Simurgh. Countless dreams had died to Mannequin since then and the 13th's dream will be no different.

A hand settles on his shoulder, and Mannequin carefully doesn't move.

"Hey there, buddy ol' pal of mine. Thinking about finding a new target?"

He nods carefully. It is always best to be careful around him.

"You know, I've heard Oklahoma has some beautiful sunsets out on the prairie. Why don't we wrap up our fun here and mosey our way down to pay a certain someone a visit."

While unable to show a smile, he quivers with anticipation, methodically dispatching each victim, with Jack casually observing as if pretending he isn't expecting Mannequin to vanish at any given moment. He can be patient. Jack will see that. He can be real patient.

---

 

[mpbjunkie]

That's a very interesting premise. I'm eager to see what you do with it. Thanks for writing.

 

[Adullahan]

That's a very interesting premise. I'm eager to see what you do with it. Thanks for writing.

Click to shrink...

It came to me feverishly in the night and I spent from the wee hours of the morning writing it.

 

[mpbjunkie]

Well, I hope there'll be more.

 

[Adullahan]

Well, I hope there'll be more.

Click to shrink...

Definitely working on more. We need to see Taylor's new hustle, clearing quarantine sites, maybe some other scattered familiar faces reacting to a changing world, as well as how Cauldron is adjusting. And then there's Canberra looming over everything.

 

[Anansi]

Manny, Jackie. Are you two aware that both of you are literally COURTING WITH DEATH RIGHT NOW!!?!​

 

[Adullahan]

Updated the second chapter with around 800 word opening.