Power Escalation (power manipulation)

[aleksejstepanov560]

I didnt really read it, but a quick skim did reveal a translation error that seems frequent. Places where you meant to say power were translated as force. Force vision should probably be Power sight.
Force vision would be like seeing gravity or electromagnetism, physical forces.
Power sight is detecting parahumans or the activation of their abilities.

Click to shrink...

thanks, corrected. ,,Force,, and ,,Power,, mean almost the same thing in my language, so I didn't even know the difference

 

[aleksejstepanov560]

POV Armmaster
"Something very bad is happening," thought the Armmaster, heading at high speed towards the Slums in the northern part of the city. But no matter how much he wanted to speed up, he could not afford to break away from his colleagues, sent along with him by a panicked Piggot.

Based on what he knew about his boss, her reaction was even a little weak—she could have sent the entire Brockton Bay Protectorate and Wards to help them to deal with such a situation.

Considering all the possible danger, he might even be inclined to agree with her in this act.

—Dragon," he said to his colleague, who kindly offered to help them. — Is there any new information?

—No, Colin," she answered him with a strange intonation. — And the worst thing is that I don't have any new news from this area at all. As if something is completely jamming the connection or, even worse, there is simply no one to transmit at least some information.

All the Armmaster could do after hearing her words was to grit his teeth and suppress the desire to accelerate, leaving his colleagues far behind.

But where is our brave hero going, and what kind of problem could arise, causing such an alarming reaction from the city authorities, to put it mildly?

And something potentially terrifying happened — Pertinax suddenly went crazy and completely crossed the line. This was exactly what all the signs pointed to — he already had every opportunity to create such a cataclysm during their meeting in the Protectorate building, and his house is located in the very center of the area in which biotechnarian creatures were seen and with which communication was now lost.

The Armmaster did not want to believe it — Cape showed himself to be quite a reasonable person and was aware of the need to restrain himself in his actions, although he behaved a little provocatively.

And that was exactly what bothered him the most. An opponent who does not know how to control himself because of emotions is easily influenced and very predictable, and therefore much less dangerous than someone who is able to make plans and understands the importance of self-control.

Given Pertinax's strength, if his alleged involvement in what is happening is confirmed, he will be a very dangerous enemy. That is why Piggot sent all the free capes who were not engaged in patrols in the disputed territories to the Slums and at the same time submitted a request to the PRT offices in other cities for help from their capes.

If the creation of an army of self-replicating monsters or machines is confirmed, a team of "Pied Pipers" will arrive in the city during the day, which specializes in deterring a large number of enemies. The group was assembled shortly after the events in Ellisburg, and over 7 years of work, these capes were able to prevent more than a dozen possible repetitions of those events.

The Armmaster himself hoped that their help would not be needed after all. Each time after such an incident, the city was quarantined for several months to make sure that all the creatures were destroyed. This is undoubtedly a necessary measure, but he was not at all tempted by the prospect that instead of working on his weapons or armor, he, a Armmaster , would have to spend almost all of his working time on endless patrols. And this despite the fact that he recently, inspired by the work of Pertinax, acquired a lot of ideas that needed to be tested.

—Armmaster," the Dragon's voice came over the micro—earpiece. — You are approaching the designated area. And errors in the connection are already beginning to slip. It is quite possible that the connection will be severed. I'll try other ways to contact you.

— Accepted, Dragon, — his helmet automatically caught the movement of his eyes and connected a local connection, through which he began to transmit instructions to his colleagues and subordinates.

— This is a Armmaster, we have reached the threat area. Dragon has confirmed the jamming of communications, and my scanners do not detect any living objects larger than a rat in the area. I'm afraid that our most terrible fears have been confirmed — Pertinax decided to conduct experiments on humans and tried to hide it by limiting communication.

The group stopped on one of the deserted streets. Gray, cracked walls with piles of garbage indicated the abandonment of the area. However, it was TOO deserted here today.

— I suggest we drive further away and check. What if he just gathered all the residents for a party "for his own"? — Assault, this eternal wit, even in such a situation could not help but insert his word.

— Unlikely. But I support the proposal. Does anyone have any objections?

— I think I could launch my drone. I would fly myself, but I don't like that some of its functions are unavailable for some reason. So let him be our eye from heaven," the Challenger suggested. The usually eccentric Tinker was serious right now, even wearing armor, which, despite popular belief, she still had, but which she usually used only in emergency situations. In accordance with her words, the Tinker's motorcycle has already begun to produce and warm up rocket engines.

— It's a good idea. After that, you can ride with me," the Armmaster performed several manipulations with his motorcycle, hiding the storage for things deep into the case and providing a place for a seat and a rack to secure her weapons.
As they moved deeper into the area, the heroes became more aware of the scale of the situation. Of course, this part of the city was not comfortable to live in, but to remain completely without signs of life… All traces pointed to the same thing, and along with the connection, as luck would have it, the transmitters also stopped working.

— Velocity! — The armorer beckoned the named one to him with a gesture. — There is no communication with the headquarters anymore, but someone has to transmit information about what he saw. With a probability of 96 percent, I can say that the situation with Nilbog is being repeated now. The containment team should arrive no later than in 12 hours, otherwise everything will be worse than in Ellisburg.

— But you... — the Mover tried to object to him.

— We will go ahead and try to stop everything in the bud, — the Armmaster looked back at his comrades, who nodded to him, understanding what he wanted to say. — We are all heroes here, and we are ready to give our lives for the sake of the city. You will be most effective at delivering an important message. This is also important. Go," the Armmaster paused, feeling proud of his social interaction program and the effect his words had on his subordinate.

After hesitating for a second, Velocity replied, "Yes, boss," and then sped away, leaving a blurry image behind for a moment.
The Armmaster turned to the team, and as soon as he wanted to give the order to continue moving, he was interrupted by loud claps coming from a place where, as he thought before, there was no one.

— Bravo, bravo! — a young girl dressed in a colorful Tinkertech suit, which, as the Armmaster was sure, did not allow his sensors to detect her, stood in the doorway of one of the buildings nearby. With her whole appearance she showed mockery and relaxation, as if she was completely unafraid of the six capes ready to fight the unknown. — It was SUCH a heroic speech, SUCH dedication, I'm ready to cry. However," she paused, "you did everything right, the boss wants as many capes as possible to join him.

No one relaxed at the meeting with the unknown, on the contrary, the degree of paranoia increased by an order of magnitude. And for good reason — at this time, more and more parahumans appeared on the roofs, surrounding them from all sides. A large number of the most diverse Tinkertech suits, made in the style he, the Armmaster, had already seen, said that they all worked for Pertinax.

The heroes stood in a circle back to back, surrounded by an overwhelming number of troops, while the girl continued her monologue without stopping it for a second.

— ...it seems that the Protectorate is ineffective, that year after year the Destroyers kill entire cities, and the Capes, absorbed in fighting each other, cannot or even do not want to work for the common cause. THEN WE'LL MAKE THEM! she abruptly switched to shouting, waving her arms furiously, seemingly ceasing to notice the six in front of her. — The stupid and evil will transfer their strength to the worthy, and the weak and infirm will join His Army and will be able to work in perfect synergy, — she pronounced this word with sacred awe. — And you, — her gaze became more meaningful, after which she pointed her finger at their group, — want to interfere with His plans, without even realizing what you are going to do.
It couldn't go on like this. Colin confidently stepped forward and put the halberd in the direction of the enemy, not wanting to continue this farce anymore.

— You are accused of opposing members of the Protectorate and aiding the Biotink. Lay down your arms and you will be judged according to all the rules of the law.
His opponent was not impressed at all, she just blew off the bangs that covered her eye and took a step, looking completely confident.

She raised her hand and snapped her fingers. The sound, which should have been quite quiet, echoed down the street, and after that, biomechanical monsters began to appear from around the corners, so different, but at the same time similar to each other - you don't understand that you are on OUR territory, why would we give up?

The Armmaster swallowed, starting, no, not to panic, to worry. Despite the fact that he had been training for years, honing the art of halberd fighting day after day; the fact that his armor and weapons were a work of art, for the right to study which some techies were ready to kill; and the fact that behind him was his team, capable of defeating almost any threat, he understood that a dozen unknown capes , provided there is no communication with the headquarters , may become their last.

"Boss, the drone hasn't belonged to me for five minutes." Such news from the Challenger also undermined his confidence.

They are now in the minority, in a weak position. Alone, cut off from leadership. Help for the fight will not come. But is a fight necessary? The Armmaster could agree that the system was inefficient, that the work of a well-coordinated team would always be better than the work of just a bunch of people gathered together. He could see the meaning in the girl's words and understood how tired he was of working for the state, which never understood the capes and twirled them as it wanted. At the moment when the thought that it would be better to go under the leadership of Pertinax crept into his head, he understood everything. They are mastered.
— Master! he shouted, slicing off the head of the enemy cape with a quick swing. Only the enemy was a couple of meters away from him, completely unharmed and looking all the same cheerful.
— Bob! she shouted with a laugh, turning to the right. You are completely useless!

The Armmaster was already moving towards her, but suddenly his world turned ORANGE. Visions of orange, the taste of orange on the tongue, the smell of citrus, and the completely indescribable sound of orange filled his world, making it impossible to comprehend what was happening. After a moment, everything stopped, and the Armmaster not seeing the enemy in his field of vision, instantly cut into pieces the monster that rushed at him. Ducking under a blow from the side, he, having no room for a full swing, hit the enemy with an electric gauntlet he had assembled in case the halberd could not be used. Having lost sight of his entire team, he continued to fight in a fierce dance. Enemies broke through his defenses several times, but were unable to do more than bent armor. They were all stunned, caught in the containment foam, and at the moment when he handcuffed the multicolored girl that irritated him so much, his mind cleared up.

The capes surrounding him did not even move from their places, all the monsters were in place, the colorful girl was grinning from the same passage where she had stood from the very beginning, and his comrade Miss Militia writhed in his arms.
Colin tried in horror to break the handcuffs, but his armor—the same armor that he had personally collected over the years, and which had everything for such cases—was refusing to move.
With a leisurely, measured step, the colorful one approached him and, without ceasing to smirk, spoke:

"You see, dear Armmaster. You lost. Only three of us used the force, but you! You weren't ready. INEFFICIENT. That's why you're coming with us, now you can't get away from, - she chuckled, - Bob. You will become part of His Army and help Him in the fight against all the dirt of the world.

The Armmaster did not have time to say a word, losing consciousness right on the spot.

***

POV Kaiser
Brockton Bay Center. Medhall Tower
At the top of the tower, in a luxurious room decorated with a huge number of precious things (many of which are considered stolen), a man was sitting.

This man's name was Max Anders, and those who knew him considered him a prominent public figure. He organized many charity events, developed business in the city, provided poor people with jobs, and in general his medical company is one of the few reasons why people went to Brockton Bay.

But few people knew about his alternative, dark side. He proudly called himself the Kaiser and with a strong hand ruled the most authoritative and powerful group in the city.

At the moment, this man was almost in despair and was frantically sorting through possible futures.

The cause of his troubles was called Pertinax. Pertinax, who attracted the attention of powerful people from abroad.
Already half a day after the PRT classified him, the people from the Gesellschaft got all the information about the Tinker, using some of their own, third-party sources of information.
The potential of the lonely and independent Tinker was immediately appreciated, and he, the Kaiser, was ordered to capture Pertinax and deliver him to Europe.

He was angry at this state of affairs. Since childhood, accustomed to being the king of his own and other people's lives, Max hated to obey anyone. Many years ago, after a successful assassination attempt on his own father, Max stood at the head of the Empire and took a place worthy of him. During the negotiations with Gesellschaft, he was able to get everything for himself — money, capes, in general, the support of his organization. His paymant? It was minimal. But even so, year after year, he made plans to get rid of the influence of his "Brothers".
But, so that they would not suspect anything, he still had to do what they asked.

So he sent his men. A squad consisting of Crusader, Night, Fog and Hookwolf under the command of Purity went towards the house of Pertinax, which so stupidly revealed its identity and would soon feel the consequences of its short-sightedness.
Except the squad didn't come back. Neither with the captured target, nor without it. Five strong and experienced capes had to cope with their task effortlessly, but instead disappeared into the unknown.

And this state of affairs frightened the Kaiser, even if he did not show it. Such a loss could be critical in a battle with the rest of the city's gangs, but... he hadn't heard of them taking any action recently. And it was alarming. All these dirty drug addicts, Asians and other riffraff never missed moments of weakness and strove to take a bigger bite.

Despite the fact that he led a Nazi gang, the Kaiser did not consider himself a Nazi. In fact, he didn't care about blacks or narrow—eyed people, the only thing he cared about was power. And idiots who were ready to kill the objects of their hatred were SO easy to manage.

But now these very idiots in submission have turned to him. They, as well as he, noticed the silence from other gangs and began to demand the seizure of new territories and, in general, an attack on all "cowards and losers" at once. Not seeing anything suspicious in the behavior of these very cowards and not even noticing their own losses, the half-wits wanted to climb into a trap and drag the whole Empire with them.

Max massaged his temples and pressed a button on his desk. With this button, he signaled Jessica or Nessie, officially to his secretaries, and unofficially to the Valkyrie sisters, ordering one of them to come to his office.

Except no one came. Max pressed the button again, even checked if it was working, and, not finding the problem, became alert. These two were loyal subordinates and his mistresses, and they definitely wouldn't make fun of him in any way.
Kaiser quickly turned on the tablet and opened the broadcast from the surveillance cameras, but was surprised to find only a dark screen. The cameras were broken and didn't work.
He was visited by a strange premonition of imminent trouble. And he was smart enough not to ignore such bells. Cautiously getting up from the table, Max took out a pistol, checked the cartridges and, pulling the bolt, went to the door of the office.
He slowly opened the door and looked out. There was no light, and the switch refused to work, leaving everything outside his office in pitch darkness.

Max didn't hear any sounds from the darkness, but something told him that the situation had gone beyond the banal traffic jams.

Returning to the office, he checked the phone and, after making sure that there was a connection, called Krieg. James, who according to the documents is the CEO of the company, actually held the position of his head of security and SHOULD have known about what was happening.

After a few rings, the phone was finally picked up, and after hearing a relaxed "yes, boss" from there, Max, who was already in tension, could not contain his indignation.

—What yes? Do you even know what's going on with electricity and cameras? Where did Nessa and Jessica go? You're not being paid to do nothing!

The sounds of footsteps and turning on the computer came from the phone, while James himself, already in a serious tone, answered questions:

— These two passed by me just a couple of minutes ago. They said that you gave them an urgent task and that they should hurry up," the sound of tapping on the keys stopped, and he answered the last question: "The computer shows that everything is working fine, there are no problems.

— I didn't send them anywhere! So ... — Max began to pace the office, nervously ruffling the hair on the back of his head. — Get Alebaster out of his closet and run towards me. Call everyone else and be ready for the Stranger. Code—alpha-nineteen-sword-thirty-three. Run!

Throwing the phone aside, Kaiser began to create his armor. Some cape was clearly involved in what was happening, and he was not going to give him an easy victory.

After putting on a metal shell, the Kaiser began to feel safe. However, some sixth sense told him that something was wrong.
Frowning, he began to look around the office in search of clues or hoping to at least find his invisible enemy. After a few minutes of tense silence, it dawned on him what he didn't like so much.

Time!

From the moment when he first called the twins to his office, the hand of both ordinary and computer clocks did not move. His guards and subordinates needed only a minute to get to the office, but, according to his inner feeling, the time had already passed much more than required.

Grabbing the phone again, Kaiser was going to ask Krieg where they were stuck, but was horrified to find that he stopped working. A quick check of the computer showed the same thing, although recently everything was fine.

A lump rose in the Kaiser's throat. He felt a vague danger sitting in his office, but somehow he knew that an attempt to leave the illuminated place would lead to even more terrible, terrifying consequences.

Having lost all his former confidence, Max tried to make the technique work. Out of the corner of his eye, noticing a vague silhouette rapidly approaching him, the Kaiser, who is in a very nervous state, did not even hesitate to create a whole field of peaks right under the unknown.

But there were no screams, no blood — only dozens of metal spears were frozen in the middle of the newly clean and tidy office, and nothing indicated that someone else was present here.
Looking around in a desperate attempt to find the attacker, the leader of the Nazis began to speak:

— You! but he didn't finish the sentence, startled by the volume of his own voice. It was as if he had entered a huge cave, where every sound echoed in his bones. No other sounds had a similar effect, which only increased his already considerable anxiety.

— If you think you can intimidate me with such tricks, you are very much mistaken! Kaiser hissed angrily under his breath, hoping to lower the volume of the sound in this way.

Silence answered him. Even that unpleasant sound effect didn't appear this time, ruining his expectations.

— Are you playing? Kaiser asked a rhetorical question, and then, in a desperate attempt to regain confidence, waved his hands, creating long needles on every surface of his office.

As if responding to him, the ceiling lamp blinked. Then another one. The third lamp, located in the far part of the office, turned off completely, leaving a thick, black, unnatural shadow under it.
Horror filled Max's mind. Recoiling from the abyss that appeared in his office, he exerted his strength, sealing the cursed place with a meter-high wall of the most durable metal he could create.

It no longer mattered how frightening the prospect of going outside the office had been recently — this small corner of a huge building had ceased to be a safe place, the feeling of someone else's presence did not leave Anders. Remembering about the lack of light in the corridor, he picked up a flashlight that was lying in one of the shelves of his desk and moved to the exit.

It was difficult to force himself to turn the door handle — he still felt the danger of such an action, but he also could not force himself to be here, so, gathering his strength, he went out into the corridor.

There was a light on, and everything was so ordinary, as if nothing was happening. But he remembered perfectly well that the light bulbs did not work when he looked out of the office last time, and therefore, instead of the expected calm, it only made him afraid. Kaiser moved toward the stairs as fast as his armor would allow, still holding the gun in his hands. Not to the elevators—the thought of being locked in a confined space alone with an invisible enemy was even more frightening.

He walked, walked, but when he reached the place where the stairs should be, he found nothing — the corridor was not going to end, and the light seemed to grow dimmer with every step.
Max turned around and ran. Running past the office door, which, to his relief, was still present on the floor, he realized that the light was really getting dimmer by the second. In contrast, his shadow became thicker and thicker and seemed to start moving on its own in those moments when he wasn't looking directly at it.

The elevator was in place, but the doors, oddly enough, were open. But the Kaiser did not even pay attention to this. What was more important was that the entire elevator, from floor to ceiling, and the space of the corridor next to it were flooded with something. There was a sharp metallic smell in the air, but even without it it was clear: everything was covered with blood stains.
It all looked so much like a farce, like a cheap horror movie or a terrible dream, that Max had completely stopped believing in the reality of what was happening. Only this, perhaps, can explain the fact that he did not run away, but quickly entered the elevator and pressed the button of the first floor all the way down. The doors slammed shut, and he exhaled with relief, feeling the movement in space. But when it stopped, Max froze at the sight of the bloody symbols already familiar to him.

It was no longer so easy to convince myself that everything around me was unreal. The brain completely shut down, leaving the Kaiser spinning in this dance of madness, in this bloody orgy. He clutched the flashlight, which he had already forgotten about, convulsively in his hand.

The bodies of his assistants lay exactly in the center of the pentagrams. Torn apart, but still alive, they tried to scream, but no sound came from their mouths with missing tongues. Blood flowed out of the torn bodies, causing them unbearable suffering, but death was not going to stop this painful process at all.

A low rumble appeared in his head, growing louder by the second and seemingly coming from everywhere at once.
Startled by what he saw, Max blinked, but at the same moment everything disappeared — the corridor was clean again, but there was no elevator behind him.

It looked as if he had just left the office. Only the dimness of the lighting distinguished this moment from the past.

Max's nerves could not stand it, and he screamed into the void:
— Stop playing! Stop it! I know you're here, you're playing with my mind, maybe creating illusions… Stop it! What do you want? Kill me? Blackmail? Answer me!

In a rage, he directed the force — the walls, floor and ceiling, all around were dotted with thin spikes, from long ones — more than a meter, to short ones, no longer than a finger. Now the steel needles filled the entire space around him. The familiar feeling of his strength, though not soothing, but created a kind of anchor, made it possible to understand that everything is real. Is it real? And is it good? Perhaps, if it was a dream, delirium, hallucination… But he didn't have time to think.
The darkness deepened even more, but it went unnoticed because he heard a SOUND.

I think they were footsteps. Heavy, measured, they were getting closer, becoming clearer and clearer. Now the Kaiser had no doubt — someone was coming. And he knew who. Krieg had spent enough time with him that Max was able to recognize his footsteps.

— James? — he could not, and did not think to hide the tremor in his voice. It was probably the first time in his life that he experienced the most real horror, and authority in front of a subordinate was the last thing that worried him right now.

— Boss? Boss, are you there? Something strange is happening, all the electricity in the building has been cut off, the backup generators are running at the limit, the connection is not…

— I know! I know, James. It's not just a malfunction, some Cape or a group of Capes is playing with us. This is a Stranger, perhaps a Ruler, creating illusions. We need to get out of here urgently. Where are you?

—Boss, I think we—" Krieg—or what he thought was Krieg—came around the corner.

The creature had his body, his voice, his costume, but his face looked as if something had got inside his head, and now this underside was being squeezed out, stretching the skin in a creepy parody of a human.

Without thinking, Kaiser created metal under the creature's feet, instantly killing it, but from the other side another voice caught his attention:

— Max, what are you doing? You... — this parody of Jessica was interrupted by a shot. Surprisingly accurate in this light.
— I said. That's enough. Play!

He wanted to say something else, but more and more of his subordinates began to appear around.

The rotting body of Alebaster, covered with pus and ulcers, constantly recovering and beginning to decompose again; the Hookwolf, in whose flesh so many needles, hooks and blades were stuck that it looked like he still used force; Victor, seemingly unchanged outwardly, but moving like a child — without a gram of skill — they and others came to him like puppets controlled by an inept puppeteer. And the Kaiser was forced one by one to kill all these images of people he knew.
With each new death, the corridor became darker and darker, but the enemies did not even think to end.

And so, after the light disappeared completely, and the flashlight was broken by one of the enemy blows, Max made a mistake. He stumbled and fell, allowing his former comrades to pounce on his body like rabid animals on a piece of meat.

They began to tear his flesh, tearing out bones with their bare hands and pouring his hot blood all around. But the long-awaited death still did not come. He couldn't even lose consciousness from the terrible pain, much more severe than the pain from ordinary wounds.

Max was able to sense the moment of death. There was such a contrast between the torment and the feeling of Freedom, Peace and Happiness that Max could not compare it with any drug he knew.

But all good things come to an end. So moments later, Max stopped feeling Paradise and realized himself in the same corridor with dim lamps and an aggressive growl from somewhere outside.

His fingers sharpened, and his skin became stronger, acquiring a metallic sheen.

But he no longer cared about such changes. He clutched his hair in horror and fell to his knees, muttering to himself: "No, no, no, no. Bring me back!" Feeling the ideal, he realized that his entire previous life had been a torment. Everything that had attracted him before turned into rot in his mind, the only thing he wanted was to return to that ideal place, free from the torments and horrors of life.

With a growl, he got up from his knees and with a shout rushed straight at the beetle-like Cricket.

— Kill me now, kill me! Max screamed like a madman, and Cricket obeyed. Her creepy paw with a blade on the end jerked, aiming straight at the neck, and Max was already ready to feel Freedom.

But... the blow left only a cut on his metal skin, not even a drop of blood left his body, leaving him no chance of dying from blood loss.

— More! Harder! HARDER! — having lost all reason, he repeatedly rushed at all the arriving monsters, trying to get a fatal wound. After one of the successful blows, his head still separated from his body and he went to HEAVEN... for even less time than the first time.

With each death, his body changed, moving away from the human form more and more. Cycle after cycle, Max became stronger, more resilient, eventually turning into a metal ball full of desire, anger and pain.

In the pursuit of desires, endlessly striving for eternal pleasure, but unable to achieve it, the Kaiser lost his entire human essence. Endlessly killed by former friends and allies, he forgot them, throwing familiar faces out of his head.

And so came the inglorious end of the Kaiser, the former leader of the Empire 88. And when his body finally moved away from the visions, there was no reason in the look of empty eyes - the doll, who wanted to fulfill any order for the sake of a drop of Paradise, remained instead of him

***
Jessica knocked softly on the door of her boss's office. Thirty seconds passed, but there was no response, which was very strange, considering that the Kaiser himself had called her just a couple of minutes ago.
After waiting for another half a minute, the girl gently took hold of the handle and lowered it, opening the door. She peeked cautiously into the office, intending to ask if she could come in, but it wasn't necessary.

A strange picture unfolded in front of the secretary who entered: the owner of the office was sitting at his desk with his hands and head on it. Looks like he was asleep.

This was so uncharacteristic of Kaiser that Jessica was worried. She slowly came closer, but didn't see anything else suspicious. It looks like the boss really just fell asleep at the table, and there is no reason to worry… But what about the challenge then? The answer to this question came quickly. In the dream, Max threw one hand to the side, so that it lay exactly on the button with which he always called one of the secretaries to him. Delicious. So it's just an accident…

Jessica exhaled with relief, relaxing, and gently removed the boss's hand from the button, unable to resist a gentle stroking at the last.

Everything turned out to be much easier than expected. The secretary relaxed and straightened the papers scattered on the table. And yet something was bothering her…

Well, exactly! Max's tablet was lying next to him on the table. And it was turned on. It turns out that he fell asleep quite recently, and not only that, he did not even reach the sofa, specially located here for recreation, and even did not turn off the tablet… The tablet, which, by the way, was now showing a broadcast from CCTV cameras. A broadcast consisting of only one black screen with a short inscription on top. It turns out that there is no connection to the cameras, which means…

Jessica straightened up abruptly and rushed to the phone. She looked at the screen. There was no connection. Then she took a walkie—talkie from the top drawer of the Kaiser's desk, prepared just in case of telephone failures—yes, in some aspects Max Anders was still paranoid - and tried to contact the head of security. She still felt only a slight unease, but with every second she waited for an answer, it grew.

Finally, the monotonous hissing stopped, and James' voice was heard on the other end of the channel. That's just it wasn't his usual carefree tone — it was inarticulate shouts, periodically interrupted by incomprehensible clicks. Clicking once again, the walkie-talkie turned off and did not turn on again.

— But what is it? — the situation was so incredible and unrealistic that the girl was still in prostration, not knowing how to react. After all, just recently everything was in order, what could…

The best solution that the secretary could come up with now was to wake up the boss. Whatever's going on, he needs to know about it.

— Max? Max, get up," she gently shook him. She touched her shoulders, her back... — Come on, wake up, please!

But the Kaiser did not wake up. He was alive, but he was so far away from reality that nothing could pull him out of his dream. The secretary did not give up trying, at the same time frantically thinking what was going on, but then something stopped her and made her turn around sharply.
Jessica caught a glimpse of a shadow nearby out of the corner of her eye…

***

Somewhere underground in the center of Brockton Bay. Is unknown.

— ...pay you for it. Just do it, the rest is my concern," a villain named Coil, sitting at a computer desk, hung up, then got up and began to warm up. After many hours of working with documents, the body wanted movement, and the Coil gave it what it asked for.

After that, he sat down at the table again and began to read a new report.

Everything in front of him was somehow connected with a new Trump Card — Pertinax. Yes, in official documents, he is recorded as a Tinker with some Trump addition. But he, the Coil, knew about its true power.

Such power, he thought, cannot belong to one person who can only waste it on trifles. No, Pertinax needs someone who will tell him what he should do, which force to create a new one and which tinkertech to sell. In other words, he must go to his subordination.

Such thoughts were in his head after the arrival of Trump in the PRT. The fool told all the information about himself, practically begging the Coil to use his weaknesses against him.

Coil told his people everything he had learned, but it turned out that... he had nothing to put pressure on Antonias. A person without family, friends and the need for money, while having power, becomes a person who is not so easy to manipulate.
Therefore, the Coil began to look for ways to control. The first, the second, the third — time after time he sent his people to collect information. But at the moment, something very different is happening from the usual actions of Pertinax.

His mercenaries, whom he sent this time without clear instructions, did something that forced Cape to change his mindset and discard his humanity and humanity.

Creatures created from the corpses of his soldiers abducted the residents of the area from their homes, and then carried them to a place where he could no longer track them.

In a good way, this version of reality should be curtailed, but… It was such a great opportunity to get more information that the Coil couldn't resist the temptation and stayed here.
And now, just a day later, he was receiving numerous reports from his people.

The team of Protectorate heroes sent to the area of Pertinax's house disappeared almost in full force. Only Velocity, sent for help, left there, bringing information that there were no local residents left.

Already at this point, the Coil abandoned his plans for Trump and only watched the consequences. Anyone who is able to defeat half a dozen capes at a time will be too difficult a target in the absence of other levers of influence.

After the news about the missing residents, and later — the entire task force, pretty quickly, the appearance of biotechnary monsters in the city became no secret to anyone in their department of the PRT.

Thus, from hour to hour, a team of "Pied Pipers" arrives in the city, which specializes in deterring large groups of enemies. Coil himself suspected that this group would not be a problem for Pertinax and would soon require the intervention of the Triumvirate itself.

The Coil finished reading the current report, carefully put it aside, and then took another one concerning the strange activity in the Medhall tower, noticed by one of the paid employees.
He managed to read only a third when an alarm sounded at his base. Throwing the paper aside, the Coil began to give orders to the mercenaries, simultaneously viewing the readings from the cameras.

— Group A, take position three, formation number 5. Group B, block the corridor, activate the security system. The group..." he did not have time to finish, drowned out by the roar of a multi—ton metal door, which flew out of the passage with a terrible noise.

And in the aisle itself HE was standing, — Pertinax, in person. In his two-meter coal-black armor, with a huge hammer, the size of the striker of which was half a man, he created such a terrible impression that the Coil could not restrain the tremor that swept through his body.

Not wanting to take any more risks, the Coil immediately tried to reset this obviously corrupted reality, but to his great horror could not do it. He still existed in two places and realities at the same time, and this fact brought comfort, but the fact that Pertinax was able to limit his ability still scared him terribly.
Trump himself broke into a run a moment later. In less than a third of a second, Pertinax overcame more than thirty meters and, without even slowing down from passing literally through his people, continued to move along the corridors.

But even after the main enemy disappeared behind their backs, the mercenaries were not left alone.

Under the cover of energy shields created by huge scorpion-like robots, more and more mechanisms began to penetrate into the room.

Literally vaporizing people with lasers, countless drones flew into the room. Flexible, reptilian devices began to bite into the walls, moving, as far as Coil remembered the layout of the bunker, straight to the generator room.

To see all the variety of mechanical horrors, the Coil could not because of the sudden breakdown of his computer. He spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on it, the device was as close to the concept of Tinkertech as it was possible without constant breakdowns, but all the protection systems did not save him from enemy hacking.

Coil jumped up from the table, grabbed a gun and ran to the secret passage. It took time to open, because there was no electronics there — he made sure that it could not be hacked.
The Coil rushed down, leaving behind the dying people.

Emergency lights illuminated his path, and he didn't even know why he was running away. He understood that if he fell into the hands of Pertinax, the consequences could be worse than death. Probably, he wanted to at least leave on his own terms, having reset reality on his own, and not as a result of death.

Behind him, a long, mocking cry was heard: — Cooiil! Don't run! Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you," but the tone instantly changed, became cold, with a note of hidden cruelty, as if another person was already saying it: "Oh, no, I'm lying. It will be long and painful. After what you ordered your people to do—the Coil didn't even know what they had done—I changed, you know. On the one hand, I am grateful to you — that's why you will die the last of the local gang leaders, — the voice was getting closer, although the Coil, who used to be an operative and has a very athletic body, was running without slowing down. — On the other hand, I hate you for such changes, so I have already prepared for you a lot of such interesting and very painful toys. By the way, I promised that you'd be the last to die," Coil had already cursed himself for creating such a long passage, he was covered in sweat, began to run out of breath, and the idiotic suit rubbed everything that was possible, "so, I'm going to the penultimate one only tomorrow.

Finally reaching the door facing the Docks, the Coil tried to open it, but ... it turned out to be welded.

Turning around in shock, the Coil saw his pursuer, who was somewhere fifty meters away from him. He walked carelessly towards the villain, fully aware of his superiority.

— As you can see, I was ready for your escape and blocked all the exits. You just have to..." he wasn't listening anymore. Once again unsuccessfully trying to reset reality, he stuck the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

A sharp darkening coincided with the cry: — Stop! — and the sound of a jump in his direction.

Already dying, he heard the last words of Pertinax:
— So ... none of this happened? Well, damn it.

***
Thomas Calvert, exemplary PRT office worker.

Startled, Thomas woke up, sitting at his desk.

He spent a little less than a minute breathing heavily and listening to his feelings - Pertinax was strong enough that the posthumous reset of one reality led to the loss of consciousness in another. Couldn't he just have Thomas think dead in order to preserve the version of reality he existed in? No, everything is in order, there is only one reality left - the one where there is no Antonias Russell who has gone mad, where Coil is still alive, strong and keeps everything under control. Only now was Thomas able to force himself to breathe a sigh of relief. But still…

Now he finally understood how dangerous the newly-minted Trump was. If one day he decides that Coil is somehow interfering with him, then there is an almost one hundred percent chance that Calvert will not win this confrontation. It is not certain that he will even survive in any of the realities.
With horror, Coil imagined what Pertinax would be capable of if he went crazy or desired power outside of one of his simulations...

No, we need to get out of this city before it's too late. Fortunately, his colleague Accord will not mind accepting Calvert for a while until he builds a new shelter for himself.
Perhaps the money spent on the bunker is not so pitiful ...

 

[aleksejstepanov560]

I apologize that the text may seem strange to you. in some places the meaning of the words was distorted during the translation and I do not have enough knowledge to translate, keeping the meaning

 

[ArsMagna1337]

Argh! Wall of Text! My weakness!

 

[aleksejstepanov560]

Some time has passed since my visit to the heroes. I opened a bank account, where, after a few days, the requested amount was transferred. At the same time, I was contacted by the Armmaster, who gave me the addresses of places where I could go for materials, and also asked me "for your own safety" to pretend to be a techie, not to openly show other forces.
The latter he explained by the fact that if any villainous organization wants to try to harm me in one way or another, then I will have a trump card in reserve.

This idea seemed to me ... reasonable. It's not that I have many powers that can't be disguised as a techie. And if you think about it, my powers are now sort of focused on making sure I can make the most of their tech half. Brute force greatly strengthens the material, the manipulation of gravity allows you to almost ignore a lot of weight, and sometimes use it to your advantage. The pocket allows me to always carry my things with me, and the strength of the smart guy ... well, at its expense, I get ideas for the Tinkering. Well, everything else just allows me to somehow be efficient in using Tinker power, so that fits too.

But anyway, I'm a millionaire now! My mother told me correctly that if I study well, I can earn a lot and live in pleasure.
Although I don't think that by studying she meant learning some technologies from the future, but by living a pleasure, everyday work in the workshop for the sake of being able to beat the faces of the villains. Yes, and I also did not imagine the life of a millionaire.

***

With the money I received, I purchased a lot of rare or simply complex things — various electronics or the same iridium with rhenium, which, although I didn't really need a few days ago, but which I can't do without now.

In general, I expected that the appearance of a new Tinker in the city would attract more attention, but, apparently, the fact that I went everywhere in a full set of my armor, which looked really high-quality and did not resemble the work of a beginner, helped me to do without unnecessary collisions.

The second thing I spent money on was buying my own house. To be more precise, the earth and the rest of the ruins around it. What for? Well, I'm going to put a bunch of traps there that should help me when the attack does happen. That's how I explained everything to a government employee who REALLY didn't want to sell land to a private, unknown person. But my formidable appearance and the argument that I was going to do it anyway, and the sale of the plot would only allow them to get money from it, convinced him to sign the documents.

It was even easier with the neighbors — there were few of them, only a couple of families, and everyone wanted to leave the Slums. I bought some cheap houses in a quieter part of the city and with a menacing look told them to move out of their homes during the day. They managed it in about twelve hours, apparently, like me, they had nothing but poverty to keep them here.

Why such preparation? Maybe the new power of the predictor showed me the danger?

But no, I don't have such power, and I took up the defense of the territory for reasons of logic.

Lung escaped from custody, and he was never known as a forgiving person. And I should not hope that I will be lucky like last time and the dragon will lose half of itself immediately before the attack.

But in addition to creating the battlefield I needed for me, I was engaged in other projects.

The first thing I did when I returned from the office of the PRT was to integrate new ideas into my developments. Thanks to the Assault, I increased the efficiency of the kinetic conducting metal several times, and I placed a new device based on its own strength in the head of my hammer. Thanks to him, I will be able to instantly change the direction of the blow, stop the attack or start it without any swing.

But, of course, this power is much more universal and can be used in my other developments.

Thanks to the power of the Battery, I was able to improve my body even more. However, such an improvement required access to electricity and a fairly high voltage. I solved this problem by even more cybernization of my body.

I somehow didn't want to do this before, except for the hand, of course, but if you think about it, what's wrong with that? It's all just human prejudices that have arisen due to the fear of changing both the mind, getting used to new realities, and the body.

Therefore, having discarded the slightest fear, I created and implanted an implant capable of generating this very electricity in the amount I needed.

Along the way, the same implant should perform many other useful functions, such as purifying the blood from toxins, saturating it with oxygen, replacing the functions of some organs if necessary, and many other things that should help me survive if my powers are somehow disabled or suppressed.

The implant was installed instead of my liver, and I thought about replacing the rest of my organs with their artificial counterpart in the future. Yes, the idea is not bad, but we will still need to see how the body and this implant behave.

My arms and legs are already heavily modified under the surface of the skin, the skin itself is reinforced with a mesh with a nanoweaving under the surface, which further increased my personal rating of a Bully, and my muscles are filled with an electoreactive carbon fiber composite. This will strengthen the muscles and allow me to use the power of the implant to multiply strengthen my body…

Yes, I'm paranoid, I know. And an emergency weapon is stored in the implant, which, although it will have to be torn right out of the body (I made sure that this action brought as little harm as possible), but it will help perfectly if the Pocket and other abilities are unavailable for some reason.

I could have disappeared into the workshop again for a couple of days, but I had already clearly established that I would rest or at least do something else after the Tink Marathon. True, my moral fatigue from being behind the workbenches disappeared in just a day (which is rather strange, I think), but I could not break my word to myself and I decided to go after the Merchants.

There was a risk that Lung would return for revenge on me at the very moment when I would not be on the prepared territory, but during the time he was in prison, he had some problems that he was now solving somewhere in the far part of his district.

Along the way, I had to arrange new signal repeaters that I had created for the normal coordination of drones.

Why drones? Well, I'm alone, and there's a lot of everything else. Enemies stay in groups, allies too, territories are large, and I'm small. I need to somehow get more actors into the team and expand the territory covered.

The repeaters themselves are not simple antennas — their main purpose is to transmit the signal directly to my Pocket. I studied the component of this force in more detail and managed to isolate the part in which the location of the subspace is encoded. I didn't understand exactly where it was, in another world, or between worlds, or somewhere else, but I became aware of the coordinates where the signal should be transmitted.

I will need more experiments, but I think I will be able to move not only information, but also physical objects in the future.

Together with the AI I am creating, which will be responsible for all autonomous technical devices, I will be able to reach a new level of independence.

***

And so I again climbed into the territory of the Merchants. Dirt everywhere, used syringes, dirty people in torn clothes. In fact, not so different from my area - it was also the unofficial territory of the Merchants. The only thing that prevented them from doing business there was that it was at the same time rather empty, located on the outskirts, and even next to the territory of other gangs. During the last skirmish for the area (when I lost my arm), neither side was able to properly fortify it, and in the future, apparently, no one wanted to lose people for such territory. Well, now this area is mine - in every sense, and I'm going to significantly fortify it and retreat to my own territory when I can not defeat the enemy in a fair fight.

I install another repeater, disguise it and start releasing my brand new Drones. These are mainly drones for reconnaissance, but there are also a couple of combat drones.

To control them, I again use my prosthesis, specially updated for this purpose. So, the communication module was updated, the computer system was removed and replaced with a communication unit with Karman, where the main computer will be located. The same relays are installed on drones, which saved me space that would have been taken up by computers, which is now filled with something else.

Now I'm going to play RTS in real life. The first unit is ready for battle!

***

Okay, it's more interesting in video games. At first, I let the scouts in an expanding spiral, hoping that such a trajectory would speed up the search, but for a whole hour I did not find anything really worthwhile. In the end, I can't run away to arrest random single drug addicts, I would like to re-capture something important, like a warehouse, or at least their capes.

Therefore, I began to simply send scouts in random directions in order to search for clusters of people or any anomalies in general. The computer brain wasn't particularly smart, but the scouts have good scanners and they can quite understand when standard physics doesn't work as it should, and transmit information about such events to me.

Thus, within half an hour I received a message about the abnormal behavior of the plasma in the absence of its source. Simply put, some Cape is playing with fire. I directed the rest of the scouts to the same point, got out of my Pocket and set off, simultaneously forcing the drone already in place to study the area around the target.

This place turns out to be another warehouse, next to which a whole bunch of people are bustling around, moving something from the warehouse to an area nearby, where they simply disappeared from the field of view of drones.

The latter is clearly the work of a Cquiller, and remembering how they tried to catch me once, I send drones that have already begun to fly up to look for transport under invisibility, using other, indirect signs of their presence.

The remaining two will have to explore the warehouse, and by the time I arrive, I should already have a map of the battlefield.
When I get to the place, I take a position on the roof and start analyzing the available information, taking information from the Internet if necessary.

I'll start with the capes. The first one, which attracted my attention with its... training (which, apparently, consisted in boxing with some iron structures and cutting these structures with the help of force), is a Sharpening, a third-rate cape of Merchants.

In appearance — nothing remarkable: inconspicuous appearance, average height, slightly slouching, although it is clear that this is not chronic… The clothes are simple and worn in places, but quite practical - loose and with lots of pockets and straps. The look, like many here, is serious and wary, but tired.
So, hmm, it is a public trigger, before it was known as... whatever, personal information went here. He triggered it during a grandiose stabbing that happened about four months ago.
Oh, I even remember how it was shown on TV. Ha, considering his strength, this guy didn't even take a gun with him to a knife fight. Uh-huh, in general, I don't have anything useful on it from the Internet.

And what will my scanners say? Yeah, and the guy has a brain. Under these rags, forcing him to be treated with disdain, he hides a bulletproof vest he has obtained from nowhere. All battered and broken, but still able to stop a pistol bullet.
His power, which looks like summoned blades above his forearm, is plasma held in the form of a dagger in an unknown way. Based on the analysis, his blades are always in the same position relative to his hands, although he can "push" them forward by about half a meter.

In general, he does not pose any danger to me at all. Yes, in theory he could burn through my armor and me, but such a wound won't kill me, and I don't think he can even hit me — I'm able to practically dodge bullets using only my improved body, and the movement of his blades is only slightly faster than the speed of a normal knife strike.

The second cape, sitting at a table not far from the powerless bandits, is ... a hand job? Do they deliberately take humiliating names for themselves, like a Tradesman's trick? Okay…

Although, there is a look of a name to match — a leather top, short camouflage leggings, high-heeled boots. Cold brown eyes are lined, a cruel crease lies at the lips from a frequent crooked smile. Short dark curly hair is smoothly combed into a ponytail. Okay, what's next…

I don't really know anything about her, she only appeared several times in various transactions of Merchants. She is a sadist — in one of the videos, she tortured her enemies and even one of the guilty Merchants with visible pleasure, destroying their skin and flesh by centimeters. What an abomination.

It is known that she can somehow grind objects into dust that she grabs with her palm, and then "shoot" this dust, creating a kind of dust curtain. And, of course, she is not limited to Manton, which is why she can afford to do this in relation to living people.
Well, it's even easier with her — she needs time to grind, it seems like even the stronger the object, the more, and it won't work to hide from me while my drones are nearby, even behind a wall. You just need to keep her away from you.

The capes are finished, the usual bandits and their invisible transport remain. And if the former can only be objects for testing my inventions, then the field of invisibility has become a worthy test for my scanners. Too dignified. I was only able to roughly outline the area in which trucks and people hidden by this field can be located.

So when I start fighting, my kids' job will be to create obstacles for the bandits to escape. Fortunately, I already have the tools for this.

I'm sending drones to the points and starting to move forward. The noise reduction system leaves me unnoticed, and the dark color of the armor allows me to hide in unlit areas, of which there are quite a lot. It's a slum, after all.

I get to the back wall of the warehouse and cut a hole in it, personally approaching the Sharpening. So, what do we have here?

The first is, of course, the plasma itself. To create it and maintain the process, oxygen is required, which ... so, where from?

Here, I see that electromagnetic fields give shape, and the gas that accidentally gets inside is used in the reaction, but…

Ah, here. I found the part needed to move the main substance from somewhere else. This explains everything, otherwise gorenje of such temperature would require a lot of oxygen and with each activation the user would create air anomalies due to the air flows flowing to him.

Ha, but he can "fold" two knives into one, increasing the speed and range of the strike six times and practically multiplying the power of the blades for the sake of one super-strong explosive attack. This could come as an unpleasant surprise to his enemies. And after all, he never showed such a thing in front of witnesses, the sly one!

However, such an attack will immediately be followed by a "rollback" in the form of an inability to project a weapon for some time, well, in general, the load on the body will increase, as I understand.

In general, a powerful finishing attack, which can be used no more than a dozen times per battle, and then you will lie down from exhaustion. Not bad.

Well, that's it. There are a couple more blocks in his power, but they are purely "systemic" and are responsible for prohibitions, or a familiar block of feeling trajectories, limited only by its attacks. So I don't even have to consider them, I won't find any use there anyway.

It remains to clarify only one point — is it loud or quiet?

What kind of questions — of course, loudly. I didn't collect all this armor and weapons in order to hide in the shadows in all battles. Certainly not against such an opponent. I have no desire to climb after the second cape and risk the possibility of getting caught and being left without the opportunity to attack the first one — anyway, she will not be able to do anything significant against me.

I carefully get out through the same hole back to the street and begin to prepare for a collision. By this, of course, I mean the choice of weapons.

A hammer? Too much.

A rifle? Too fast.

A sword? Again, too fat for such an opponent.

Combat gloves? Your time has come!

I have collected these babies as a non-lethal weapon, which I will undoubtedly need now and in the future.

In a way, they are an ideological continuation of the prosthesis, improving what is already there and adding something new.

That distribution of kinetic energy from the Assault ideally formed the basis of the weapon, allowing you to beat even fragile objects without the risk of tearing them to pieces.

The gravitational wave emitter causes objects in the cone in front of the glove to almost completely lose their weight. Which, in general, should allow me to immediately defeat 60 percent of all capes. At least, if they don't have the ability to move in the absence of gravity.

And finally — grenades with sleeping gas, necessary for the safe cleaning of rooms with enemies inside. At the moment, they normally work only indoors due to the gas rapidly dissipating in the open air. I will need a large concentration of it if I want to use the substance against enemies in an open area. But it works pretty fast.

Three pieces per glove, their launchers are capable of firing projectiles at three dozen meters without loss of accuracy and are capable of automatically recharging from Weapon Cubes. It seems that this is not worth mentioning, but, as it turned out, the larger the projectile, the more difficult it is to automate its use and configure the correct output from the Cube. So I had to tinker with this task. Interdimensional tetris is one hell of a thing.
As a result, it turned out to be a good weapon both against a variety of targets and capable of stopping a strong one ‐ the prosthesis equipment has not stopped working and, for example, allows me to pour the same restraining foam over the enemy.

Yes, I made my own analogue of Dracon foam, you can sue me. Although no, don't. The foam turned out to be even more garbage that needs to be used with caution so that the enemy does not suffocate, and after that, pour it with a solvent for a long time in order to be able to free a person. But even this is better than nothing, I think.

Okay, to hell with the long digressions, I finally put on the equipment, it's time to start.

I charge the gravity emitter, and... I charge... I charge... I charge…
We still need to work on the speed, during the test it seemed to me that charging was faster.

... and finally release the accumulated charge.

An invisible wave of negative gravity passed through the building, causing everything and everyone to lose mass and start helplessly spinning in the air, panicking trying to do something. Although nothing let me down here — only the farthest bandits and a Hand Job escaped the attack.

I entered the room with a victorious grin, literally knocking out a hefty piece of the wall with one blow, which, also without experiencing the influence of gravity, swept through space at high speed, crashing into the opposite wall with a loud crash.
The stunned bandits, hanging in weightlessness, did not even try to resist, and those of them who remained on their feet tried to hide (literally) in their trucks and then leave the battlefield.

But both Capes just tried to resist. Not that they had any chance.
"I'm giving you a chance to surrender of your own free will. I promise a quick and painless detention on my part and, I hope, a fair trial on the part of the PRT — I know that none of them will do this, but we need to say something.

But humans are complex creatures and sometimes behave in ways you could never have predicted.

— I agree! — heard from a slowly rotating body on the left. And while the other cape and I were digesting the unexpected information, he added: "I agree to give up, and at least join the PRT, just save my brother. I'm only here for him. —
Unexpectedly... and it smells like either trouble or a little adventure. I'm in.

But some people did not agree with such an answer. The provocatively dressed capesha began to hiss at the former ally, backing away from me.

—You fucking traitor. Skidmark will tear your brother to pieces as soon as he finds out about this. And youyyy ... — Rukobludka turned to face me, — don't think that your hardware will save you.

Although it was not visible behind the helmet, but I still raised an eyebrow at such arrogance and obvious cretinism. The fact that I neutralized her former comrade and most of her subordinates in the first moments of the battle, and the other part is now panicking and unsuccessfully trying to get away from this place, definitely does not mean anything to her. Well, her problem.

— BD-4, sleeping pills on target two, fire, — I gave the order to one of the drones, now covering the fleeing bandits with whole bunches of gas grenades. In such conditions, alone, they would only lead to a slight lethargy, but when a whole fog of sleeping pills suddenly covers you, leaving no normal oxygen for breathing....

In general, while I am having fun inside, the drones outside have already almost completely fulfilled the commands given to them. The area around the invisibility zone was surrounded by bounding pillars created from an osmium-based material, which already has great hardness and mass. Several trucks, whose drivers considered this obstacle insignificant, were already smashed and filled with restraining foam.

The drones left without work flew away under the effect of invisibility and analyzed everything interesting there.

Completely silent for ordinary human hearing, the drone broke away from the general mass and, having flown to the border of the zone of destruction of the guns, released a dart with sleeping pills. The fact that the Needlework had a large amount of exposed skin significantly simplified the task.

That's just instead of sticking into the girl's skin and releasing neurotoxin, for some reason the dart only forcefully pushed her at me, failing to achieve results.

I did not wait for another moment to attack, but immediately began to act. With a powerful leap, I rush towards the enemy and turn on my Power Vision in flight. Time slows down as usual, and I get the opportunity to learn her secrets.

Tex, what do we have here? Well, it's a little boring. The main part of her power is creating and manipulating vibrations on the surface of her skin. She can both destroy the objects she touches and redistribute part of the force applied to her body. So the dart was most likely blunted at first, and then the force concentrated on its tip transferred to the entire shoulder of the cape.

And... that's it. Literally. So, the ability to shoot dust is just an interesting application of the ability, and not some additional part of it.

The interesting thing is that the force greatly influenced her level of aggression. very strongly. The part responsible for this glows somewhere as much as a twentieth of the main working part. Seriously, this lady had to constantly think about how to harm someone, with such and such changes. Exaggerating, of course, but still.

But I didn't find anything that would be a real reason to be so brazen - apparently, she's just stupid and aggressive.

I mentally sigh from the realization of who I have to work with, and come out of the accelerated state. With the second jump, I reach the still stumbling cape, easily dive under her clumsy blow, and then I hit her right in the stomach myself — with the energy distributor turned on, of course.

The loudly screaming and rotating carcass flies straight into the ceiling, and then, bouncing off it, falls back to the ground. She's alive, but she definitely doesn't have the desire to move anymore.

A loud crash and an indignant cry behind my back tell me that the time of exposure to the anti—gravity effect is over, but I do not turn around, but only approach the defeated enemy - I still need to delay her somehow.

 

[ArsMagna1337]

snip.

Click to shrink...

This seems to be a repost or something...

 

[aleksejstepanov560]

did someone here talk about a wall of text? Keep more!

 

[aleksejstepanov560]

Having tied up and put to sleep the defeated cape, I give commands to the drones to put down the remnants and turn to the Sharpening. The guy who fell from a height of a couple of meters was now lying on the floor and moaning softly.

— Fuck, and there was no way to arrange a softer landing? — he turned to me, raising his head, still not making any attempts to get up. — I've already given up and I'm not going to fight with you… —

I just grunt, crossing my arms over my chest. Well, I'm trying, the armor is not so flexible yet and imposes some restrictions on movement.

— I didn't control anything there at all. The charge of the device ran out, and you fell, that's all. This is actually a prototype with one mode of operation so far. —

The guy looked at me for a couple of seconds with an unreadable expression on his face, after which he muttered:

— Tinkers — and lowered his head back to the floor, — always use their not even finished crap, — he muttered to himself, but I had no problems hearing him, not with my body amplifications and various microphones and scanners built into the suit. —

Staying in place, I spoke:

— Get up, come on, stop lying down. And in general, the more you slow down, the more chances that Skidmark will find out about me and that you left for PRT, and what he will do to your brother for this, you will not like. —

In general, I haven't found a single record about his brother. And considering how people on the Internet react to the disclosure of identity, often literally finding and posting a person's entire life online, then at least something about him should have existed.

The parents of the Sharpening were once, yes, but it is not written about other relatives anywhere. But if he really wants to give up, I'm not going to refute the misconceptions, especially since he could get attached to someone in the future and call him his brother already.

Well, if this is an attempt to deceive, in order to lead into an ambush, then ... of course I will go there! People tried, prepared, and should I ignore them? I wonder what will happen there in this case. And even though I have already accumulated a pretty good amount of charges — as many as 34 pieces, but there is not much power, and I will be only happy to participate in something new for myself.

— Yes, I would be glad to hurry up, — Sharpening with another long moan began to get up, — but my back was hurting before that, and I also fell exactly on a stone of some kind. It fucking hurts, you know. —

A nasty little grin came out on my face.

— I don't know, I turned off my pain a long time ago. Get up, come on, I'll give you painkillers. —

Turning around, I start moving towards the trucks outside, continuing to talk:

— And keep in mind, there are a couple dozen of my combat drones flying around, and as soon as you do something wrong, you will immediately go to jail chained from head to toe. Well, you will answer me a couple of questions, of course. —

— I understand, not a fool. Yes, and I saw you throw Linda with one blow. I'm not as tough as she is. —

Sharpening had already risen to his feet and was slowly hobbling after me.

— Linda? Isn't revealing Cape's identity something forbidden there? Aren't you afraid that... oh, yeah. —

— Oh, fuck her. Fucking sadist. Listen, man, I really don't care about the Merchants. I would only take my brother and run away with pleasure. —

— Isn't Skidmark keeping you all there on drugs so you can't get away from him? Don't think about it, I'm not kidding, I really don't know how it all happens. —

Sharpening grimaced and fell silent for a couple of seconds, apparently thinking over the answer.

— Merchants... mmm… After all, merchants are not entirely made up of bandits and drug addicts who will sell their mother for a dose. Yes, most of them are just poor and homeless people who gathered in a group for the sake of survival. And then Skidmark just comes and says that now we all work for him. He just killed the dissenters, — the guy paused for a couple of seconds, then continued — When my parents died, I was on the street. And I didn't know what to do. I survived as best I could until Jack picked me up. We wandered around with him for a while, and then we got into a bigger group. They were normal, they didn't rob anyone, they just begged and generally begged here and there. —he paused again.

I stopped moving a long time ago and turned to face the teenager. It was pretty creepy for me to realize that a similar fate could have been waiting for me, so I quite sympathized with him. And I couldn't help but notice how his fists clenched before he spoke.

— And then Skidmark came. He said that now we will give almost all the money earned to him, and even set the amount of tribute for a week. He said that if we live on his territory, now we obey him, and then he just told his people to shoot at everyone who started saying something in response. And so, bitch, enjoyed, as if he came to some fucking theater, for assholes like him. —

The guy didn't scream, but his voice became hard and cold, as if he remembered all the anger he felt then again. I noticed heavy breathing, gnashing of teeth, tension of the body- Cape clearly does not lie about his attitude to Skidmark. If I offer him to attack the Merchant base in this state, I think he will agree without doubt and hesitation.

And the guy himself continued to tell the story of his misadventures:

— Well, we agreed then — and what could we do? And after about a month, everything went from a simple "pay me" to "you fight for me" - he didn't share something with someone there, I don't know, I don't care. Well, then Jack was shot, and I couldn't do anything either, and... well, I got the power, yes," the guy quieted down again, looked at his hands and continued with a sigh —

— Even after becoming a cape, I was useless at that time and couldn't really do anything, but our opponents retreated anyway — they decided not to mess with me, you never know who I became… And they were ordinary people, not Capes. In general… That's when Jack was taken away by Skidmark people, and he told me that as long as I work for him, Jack remains alive and well. —

I raised an eyebrow.

— And you believe him?" Have you ever met your... friend after that? —

Sharpener nodded.

— Well, I'm not exactly a fool, I made sure that he was alive and well. Not personally, really, but I talked to him on the phone, and he didn't complain about anything. He said that while I was working well and without complaints, he was being given all sorts of indulgences. I can't just leave him there— he saved me, after all, and took care of me. So I tried my best. But now that I'm not alone ... — the guy tried to get up again, but hissed in pain. — I thought you said that you would give some kind of medicine. —

— Oh, right, — I came to my senses already. Tek-s, what should I give him? I didn't actually create drugs purposefully, but I got something in the process of experiments. That's just what the substances turned out to be... experimental. I don't want to risk the guy somehow. Damn, who's on then? At least catch bandits for experiments. It would be possible, of course, to create something for this task - the cultivation of experimental animals, but it will be quite a difficult project for me, and ... TIME. Time is my most important resource, after all.

It's all complicated, after all. Then I'll see if something comes to mind. And now I'm going to try to cure the guy with biokinesis — did I get him as a treatment ability for nothing?

— Okay, I'll need to check you for injuries first. The sensors are initially tuned to me, so I'll have to touch you for a while," without waiting for an answer, I bend down and touch the guy, throwing part of my aura onto him.

My assumptions turn out to be correct, and I can actually interact with other people as well as with myself through this trick.

Hmm, maybe I could pass the aura through the surface of the floor to a person at a distance from me, and thus do something with him without giving myself away. It will be necessary to conduct a couple of experiments.

Tex, yeah.

— You have pinched nerves in the lower back. It doesn't look like age, did they beat you, or what? — without waiting for an answer, I take out one of the most harmless drugs for muscle recovery and, still without breaking contact with the guy, I inject him.

I still decided to combine one with the other and follow the action of the substance live, while treating the injury and making sure that the medicine will work as it should.

—Ah..." said the Sharpener, but I just shushed him, busy watching. And there was something to watch. The tricky mixture of amino acids and protein structures worked for the first few moments as it was programmed. I even helped her a little to reach the right places in the body. And now the problems have already started there. Here is the first reaction of the substance with the cell, here is the second, the third, and after that — a failure.

The student tries to pull away, but I just change the surface of his skin at the point of contact to a sticky substance and continue studying.

In another place, everything was repeated. The first, second, third, and again an unknown error turns the affected cells into cancer cells. I grimaced inwardly. As expected, without real trials, what could have gone wrong actually went wrong. I can only draw conclusions from the mistakes made.

I decompose the medicine into harmless components and return the nerves to their correct place, change his skin to the previous version (what the fuck was it, what the fuck did I do that?), after which I get out of acceleration and break contact.

The sharpener (I should have looked at his real name again, and the fact that I only call him in Cape?), which clearly showed that the pain was gone, looked at me with a strange expression on his face.

- what? I raise an eyebrow in surprise.

— Well, to begin with, after you touched me, the sensations of touch disappeared there, and I couldn't pull away, as if the skin was glued to you… Well, like, it was fucking creepy. And then when I tried to ask a question, you just started hissing at me and ignored me altogether. Well, that's..." his expression softened, —thank you. I've already started to forget what it's like to live without back pain. And now it's like he's younger. Well, like, hunting as a child to run and jump. Seriously, man, thanks.

I was flattered by his words, although a little confused by how my actions looked from the outside.

— Yeah, I'm also glad that everything worked out as it should. Now come on, I'm going to grab the Pusher before tomorrow morning. We still need to hand over your former friends to the police and call PRT.

While Sharpening, taking the bonds I gave him, went to bind the bandits lying here and there, I contacted the Protectorate to notify and transfer the captured cape. Yes, I think I had to call the operator again and discuss everything with him, but ... it will take a long time, I'm sure.

It's good that I have contacts with the right people.

—Yes, Pertinax,— Armmaster answered me irritably. I hope he wasn't asleep, otherwise it would have been uncomfortable.

— Hello, hello, not distracting? Do you happen to need a cape and a couple dozen ordinary bandits along with a bunch of tech trucks there in PRT?

This question made him more active.

"Did you fight the Merchants?" I will not say that they are very dangerous, but a collision with them can be risky because of their unpredictability.

Oh, how sweet, the stern Armmaster takes care of me.

— Well, I hope so, because so far I haven't seen anything interesting from them. Am I, in general, what am I calling? One of their capes expressed a desire to leave them if a member of his family was saved. And he has absolutely no good feelings for former colleagues. So now we are going to storm their base, but we need someone to take away those bandits that I have already captured.

— Pertinax, stop and wait for help. You can't just trust an enemy who has promised to surrender, and storming the Tinker workshop is incredibly dangerous.

Oh, come on, I'm sure he's just overestimating them. There were no problems now, and I didn't have any problems with my enemies before either. And I kind of know how dangerous Tinker can be — he's like that himself, but…

Squealer specializes in cars, as far as I know. Is she going to run me over with a bunch of tech cars? Well, okay, a bunch of invisible tech cars. Because her creations are not yet pulling for more.

— And yet I will go like this. If your team had been enough to capture, they would have done it much earlier. And since the Merchants are still alive, they are useless, and it will be better to catch Tinker by surprise before he finds out about the loss of his people, — ... I forward my current coordinates to Armmaster and immediately end the call before he has time to object.

Of course, he can then try to express himself in the style of, "Why the fuck are you ignoring the instructions of experienced heroes?!", but hey, I'm working with the Protectorate, not FOR him. Anyway, I think I have enough strength and training to overcome a bunch of junkies without much difficulty. So if there are no problems, there will be no reason to listen to something from Armmaster either.

— Okay, man! I called out to the Sharpener. — As a payment for assistance, and in order for this assistance to be carried out, I need information from you on all sorts of points of sale, warehouses and bases.

— I don't know much myself, but you're interested in the Squealer workshop, right? They're basically all hanging out there, — my new protege managed to cope with the "packing" of criminals during the conversation and stood by for a long time, methodically cracking his fingers. — I've been there a couple of times, it's not far, if without cargo, then it won't be difficult to get there on foot in fifteen or twenty minutes.

I nodded to him, and a moment later I realized that right next to me was a bunch of Squealer trucks, some of which were not even damaged. And this is a great chance to learn her technology even before the fight, which I suspect will be inevitable.

— Wait here, I'll be there soon, — I quickly inform the Sharpener, rushing towards the intended location of the whole trucks. The options that were broken during the escape and lost their invisibility because of this do not interest me as much as the undamaged options are interested in.

Within ten seconds of reaching the search area, I realize that searching alone or even together will be too long for me. Fortunately, scout drones will always come to the rescue! Sensors and scanners on them will not be able to determine anything, but even the fact of a physical collision of the device with a vehicle is enough for me.

As I look at my mechanical children, who begin methodically combing the search area, I think about how much I have done and how much work I will need to do in the future.

In the very first bouts of technocracy, I threw myself at everything. In the intervals when the details I needed were being created, the materials were melting and cooling, I almost fanatically began to implement the ideas that came to my mind at that moment. Basically, these were developments in the field of chemistry and biology, but often I spent my strength and resources on other useless or simply non-working nonsense.

And now a whole bunch of stuff is stored in my workshop — prototypes of the things I use now and just unsuccessful projects. But what would be really useful for me — the same sensors — is in a relatively rudimentary state.

Here is the same weapon. And why do I really need my rifle now? But I put a lot of effort into it then. And now, with all my body improvements, a hammer or a sword will be much more effective than a small rifle. Not, well, as a third-party project, like a hobby, it can be developed, but it is already clear that I should focus on other things.

So that… My thoughts were interrupted by the fact that one of the drones disappeared from view and at the same time one of the communication signals began to distort.

Rejoicing at such a quick finding of the object I needed (and the area where they were standing was quite a big size), I ran in that direction and after a couple of seconds I got into the effect zone.

Having stopped the drone flying next to the truck and beating against it, I looked around with interest. The effect, as I see it, is one-sided, which seems a little abnormal to me. Well, as abnormal — incomprehensible. After all, you will be invisible only if the light passes completely through you, well, or around you. I know what I'm talking about — I've already tried to develop technologies for invisibility, although I haven't gone beyond laboratory tests and haven't received anything suitable for use in the field at the moment.

There is, of course, a third option — something like a screen that will show the picture behind it and thus create the illusion of invisibility, but this is definitely not the option.

But in this case, I see everything from the inside. Perhaps, uh... copying the light and moving it at the same time? Well, like, a photon gets to the edge of the effect, where it is copied and sent along the same trajectory, and the original is redirected so that the truck is not visible. Quite a working scheme, although I can't understand how it can happen without real material interacting with light, purely in the form of a single area of action.

Wanting to test another guess, I shout to the Sharpener, but he does not react to it in any way. Then, it turns out, the sound also does not go beyond the field of invisibility.

But it will be easier to deal with this, I can already create something for such an effect.

Okay, I figured out the effect itself. Of course, it would be possible to sit here and try to overcome its effect, but ... the current sensors did not cope with the task, and it takes time to create something new. But I still want to end the presence of Merchants in the city as soon as possible, preferably this night. So I'll limit myself to a quick analysis of the technology, and you can hit the road. In the end, I will get this specialization, then I will understand in detail.

Moving towards the truck, I examine in detail... this piece of metal on wheels. At least that's what he looks like. A lot of pieces of metal are clumsily welded together in order to add more armor to it; the wheels are replaced with some kind of parody of tracks, which should give more patency; various... seriously, I barely touched it, and it's already falling off? Like I said, a piece of metal on wheels.

Inside the cabin, everything is no better. I can't even figure out what this refers to (maybe it's because I don't know how to drive cars, but it is, by the way). A lot of wires intertwined together, a thick rope stretches from the front to somewhere back. Garbage, puddles of something smelly, dirty buttons of unknown purpose — that's what fills most of the space. It's just, ugh, how bad everything is.

Reluctantly, I climb inside just to see what's inside and where the wires are going. There's only a small recess inside the cabin, in which... is that a crystal in a jar? Yes, that's him. I suspect that he is the core of the hiding device, but damn... seriously, with every second spent here, I have more and more complaints about the quality of Tinker's work. Was it possible to try somehow? The jar, there, is not rusty to find; the wires are not picked up so that a short circuit occurs a little bit. I see the potential, but the execution — I shook my head in disappointment — is disgusting.

Turning my head a little to the right, I notice the device to which most of the wires are drawn and which is connected to the crystal by even more of them. The whole web is responsible for the connection of the computer — and this is it, apparently — with the device, but what a fragile connection, in my opinion, this is. Squealer could at least cover it all with metal plates, and not just let it run along the walls.

Hmm, but I can try to hack this system and get some interesting information. There are tools for this, and time, too, it seems.

With just one thought, I give the command, I push the hacking kit out of my prosthesis and get to work.

Hmm, this computer should not initially support wireless communication, but... it was created from a bunch of various devices at once, including several phones, through the remnants of which I can connect.

A couple of seconds to overcome the elementary protection, and I'm inside.

Hmm, there's really nothing here. The main content is a crookedly written code, which, apparently, is responsible for the correct operation of the crystal. Most of it is incomprehensible to me, but I can vaguely distinguish those parts that supposedly adjust the movement of light waves, and similar ones, but already responsible for sound.

I think we should copy it. So I will have a base when I start creating my own device and programming it.

While the code is being compiled and downloaded, I methodically start checking the remaining capabilities of the device. The device that I use a little for other purposes starts to work much worse, but I'm only here for a couple of minutes, after that I won't care.

After a couple of minutes, a sharp crack interrupts my actions. On some reflexes, jumping aside, I glance in the direction of the sound and see that it's just wires. Unable to withstand the tension, they began to spark and smoke. The screen of the device then goes out, and it itself stops working.

Ugh. I knew that the slightest voltage would be enough to break this whole circuit. And how did it work before me in general? At least I have the program now.

The invisibility generator also turned off as a result. The liquid in which the crystal was floating changed color from greenish-yellow to gray, and the glass also began to be covered with a grayish coating.

The crystal itself, hanging on the wires with which it was practically braided, begins to lose color, and when viewed, it can be seen that it even partially began to crumble.

Although I have received a program for the device to work, I will not give up an example of technology. In general, this is the first time that someone else's development gets into my hands. I think it will be interesting to study it, even if I can't get the initial specialization.

So, after unscrewing the device from the floor, I put it in my Pocket and leave the car, which has lost all interest in my eyes.

Sharpening is already standing near the car, apparently came up after losing the effect of invisibility. He did not dare to call out to me, but it is clear that the guy has already lost his patience.

— Well, what's there? Did you find anything important? Can you disable invisibility now? So no one would be able to hide from us! — a moment after my exit, he inundates me with questions.

— Don't fuss. I found something interesting, but it will be interesting only for Tinker. How to disable invisibility, I don't know yet, here I just overloaded the device, so it just broke.

— Damn, — annoyed, as he thought, by my failure, the Sharpener tried to spit, but remembered his bandana in time and stopped. — And what, we have no chance? Skidmark will simply escape under invisibility and kill Jack! Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did I take the risk!

Looking at the teenager panicking and probably thinking about the idea of changing sides again, I just rolled my eyes under the helmet. Seriously, I didn't even say that we don't have a chance, only that I don't know how to disable the effect itself. From my fumbling with the computer, I was able to understand that it would be enough for me to break the control system so that everything would fail.

Iii.... drum roll... I have a way to do it without going inside the car!

The solution, in some ways, is simple — an EMP explosion. For the first time such an effect was discovered after the testing of nuclear bombs in... sometime. No matter. But what is important is that I knew a little about it, and after studying the power of the Battery, or rather its electrical component, I had several ideas for devices that can create this effect without a nuclear explosion.

The concepts of the devices were different — these were stationary installations that would block almost all electronics in a rather large radius around them, and directional radiation devices, such as EMP guns.

But the easiest and fastest option for production was the EMP bombs.

The resulting electrons, ionized by atoms in the atmosphere, move at almost relativistic speeds before colliding with the Earth's magnetic field and deflecting at right angles to the field. This interaction causes a very strong, but at the same time very short electromagnetic pulse over the affected area, which will allow me to disable the Squealer technique.

My creations will not be affected. In this regard, I first took care of the shielding, and only after that about the weapons.

Still, such an impact can negate the efforts of about more than eighty percent of all existing techies, I think.

Even I, though a little, but knowing about this possibility, and even having a whole bunch of specializations, did not think about protecting against this. What can we say about some tech guy, for... drones or lasers, for example.

— Don't whine, — I lightly pushed the guy in the shoulder, — I have a plan how not to let anyone escape. So come on, show me the way.

Sharpening froze for a second, whispered something with just his lips and ran towards an inconspicuous alley nearby. And on time — the PRT soldiers and their capes should already be arriving here, and I don't want to face any of them before my victory.

***

Merchants, as a gang, were a relatively recent phenomenon and have not yet gained the proper number of capes or normals for a full-fledged clash with other gangs. They compensated for their weakness in direct combat with their invisible equipment, which allowed them to move around almost the entire city without any problems. Despite the fact that the gang was clearly losing in strength to many other groups, its members had a lot of arrogance and claims against the rest of the city's groups and had already made enemies. So they simply cannot show weakness and leave the attack on themselves without consequences for the attackers at all — this may serve as a signal that they are not as strong as they might seem.

While Pertinax was dealing with the Trading Capes, and his drones were rushing back and forth and putting people to sleep, some of the Traders who did not give in to panic managed to transmit a message about the attack and defeat to the main base. Adam Mustaine, known as Skidmark, was not a complete fool at all. Despite the smokiness of his brain and the fact that he did not even manage to finish his studies at school, he was able to think.

And therefore, based on the fact that they did not try to kill his people, he managed to guess that the attacker came from the so—called "heroes". The flying things, which one of the truck managers managed to tell him about in a slurred language, were almost certainly technical devices. On PHO, he saw a discussion of a new tech guy who triumphantly started his career by beating Lung. Later he found out that it was this asshole who attacked their brand-new warehouse and thus left Skidmark without a tidy sum. Most likely, he was the attacker.

Of course, he was also told about some cape in the area nearby, dragging electronics and metal from garbage cans and kicking the ass of the team trying to capture him, but Skidmark suspected that these two were the same person. Their powers are too similar — do Tinker, which are also Brute, often occur? Skidmerk did not know, and did not even think about what a person should go through to get such a combination of forces. But he was sure of one thing—the bastard wouldn't survive tonight.…

Well, if he does not attack today, then Skidmark will only need to wait for the ordered batch of weapons to arrive and negotiate with a cape from a neighboring city, who, although he had slightly inflated requirements, was not averse to joining them. And there you will just need to habitually recapture your captured capes when they try to get them out of the city, and the five of them will tear Tinker to pieces, or better even get hooked on drugs and make them work for themselves. Fortunately, he already has experience of this.

A discreet knock interrupted his thoughts. The heavy breathing became confused, the hand under the table tensed — but only for a moment. Skidmark grinned wryly, amused, and ordered to enter.

Hmm, this computer should not initially support wireless communication, but... it was created from a bunch of various devices at once, including several phones, through the remnants of which I can connect.

A couple of seconds to overcome the elementary protection, and I'm inside.

Hmm, there's really nothing here. The main content is a crookedly written code, which, apparently, is responsible for the correct operation of the crystal. Most of it is incomprehensible to me, but I can vaguely distinguish those parts that supposedly adjust the movement of light waves, and similar ones, but already responsible for sound.

I think we should copy it. So I will have a base when I start creating my own device and programming it.

While the code is being compiled and downloaded, I methodically start checking the remaining capabilities of the device. The device that I use a little for other purposes starts to work much worse, but I'm only here for a couple of minutes, after that I won't care.

After a couple of minutes, a sharp crack interrupts my actions. On some reflexes, jumping aside, I glance in the direction of the sound and see that it's just wires. Unable to withstand the tension, they began to spark and smoke. The screen of the device then goes out, and it itself stops working.

Ugh. I knew that the slightest voltage would be enough to break this whole circuit. And how did it work before me in general? At least I have the program now.

The invisibility generator also turned off as a result. The liquid in which the crystal was floating changed color from greenish-yellow to gray, and the glass also began to be covered with a grayish coating.

The crystal itself, hanging on the wires with which it was practically braided, begins to lose color, and when viewed, it can be seen that it even partially began to crumble.

Although I have received a program for the device to work, I will not give up an example of technology. In general, this is the first time that someone else's development gets into my hands. I think it will be interesting to study it, even if I can't get the initial specialization.

So, after unscrewing the device from the floor, I put it in my Pocket and leave the car, which has lost all interest in my eyes.

Sharpening is already standing near the car, apparently came up after losing the effect of invisibility. He did not dare to call out to me, but it is clear that the guy has already lost his patience.

— Well, what's there? Did you find anything important? Can you disable invisibility now? So no one would be able to hide from us! — a moment after my exit, he inundates me with questions.

— Don't fuss. I found something interesting, but it will be interesting only for Tinker. How to disable invisibility, I don't know yet, here I just overloaded the device, so it just broke.

— Damn, — annoyed, as he thought, by my failure, the Sharpener tried to spit, but remembered his bandana in time and stopped. — And what, we have no chance? Skidmark will simply escape under invisibility and kill Jack! Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did I take the risk!

Looking at the teenager panicking and probably thinking about the idea of changing sides again, I just rolled my eyes under the helmet. Seriously, I didn't even say that we don't have a chance, only that I don't know how to disable the effect itself. From my fumbling with the computer, I was able to understand that it would be enough for me to break the control system so that everything would fail.

Aaand…. drum roll... I have a way to do it without going inside the car!

The solution, in some ways, is simple — an EMP explosion. For the first time such an effect was discovered after the testing of nuclear bombs in... sometime. No matter. But what is important is that I knew a little about it, and after studying the power of the Battery, or rather its electrical component, I had several ideas for devices that can create this effect without a nuclear explosion.

The concepts of the devices were different — these were stationary installations that would block almost all electronics in a rather large radius around them, and directional radiation devices, such as EMP guns.

But the easiest and fastest option for production was the EMP bombs.

The resulting electrons, ionized by atoms in the atmosphere, move at almost relativistic speeds before colliding with the Earth's magnetic field and deflecting at right angles to the field. This interaction causes a very strong, but at the same time very short electromagnetic pulse over the affected area, which will allow me to disable the Squealer technique.

My creations will not be affected. In this regard, I first took care of the shielding, and only after that about the weapons.

Still, such an impact can negate the efforts of about more than eighty percent of all existing techies, I think.

Even I, though a little, but knowing about this possibility, and even having a whole bunch of specializations, did not think about protecting against this. What can we say about some tech guy, for... drones or lasers, for example.

— Don't whine, — I lightly pushed the guy in the shoulder, — I have a plan how not to let anyone escape. So come on, show me the way.

Sharpening froze for a second, whispered something with just his lips and ran towards an inconspicuous alley nearby. And on time — the PRT soldiers and their capes should already be arriving here, and I don't want to face any of them before my victory.

***

Merchants, as a gang, were a relatively recent phenomenon and have not yet gained the proper number of capes or normals for a full-fledged clash with other gangs. They compensated for their weakness in direct combat with their invisible equipment, which allowed them to move around almost the entire city without any problems. Despite the fact that the gang was clearly losing in strength to many other groups, its members had a lot of arrogance and claims against the rest of the city's groups and had already made enemies. So they simply cannot show weakness and leave the attack on themselves without consequences for the attackers at all — this may serve as a signal that they are not as strong as they might seem.

While Pertinax was dealing with Merchant capes, and his drones were rushing back and forth and putting people to sleep, some of the Merchants who did not give in to panic managed to transmit a message about the attack and defeat to the main base. Adam Mustaine, known as Skidmark, was not a complete fool at all. Despite the smokiness of his brain and the fact that he did not even manage to finish his studies at school, he was able to think.

And therefore, based on the fact that they did not try to kill his people, he managed to guess that the attacker came from the so—called "heroes". The flying things, which one of the truck managers managed to tell him about in a slurred language, were almost certainly technical devices. On PHO, he saw a discussion of a new tech guy who triumphantly started his career by beating Lung. Later he found out that it was this asshole who attacked their brand-new warehouse and thus left Skidmark without a tidy sum. Most likely, he was the attacker.

Of course, he was also told about some cape in the area nearby, dragging electronics and metal from garbage cans and kicking the ass of the team trying to capture him, but Skidmark suspected that these two were the same person. Their powers are too similar — do Tinker, which are also Brute, often occur? Skidmerk did not know, and did not even think about what a person should go through to get such a combination of forces. But he was sure of one thing—the bastard wouldn't survive tonight.…

Well, if he does not attack today, then Skidmark will only need to wait for the ordered batch of weapons to arrive and negotiate with a cape from a neighboring city, who, although he had slightly inflated requirements, was not averse to joining them. And there you will just need to habitually recapture your captured capes when they try to get them out of the city, and the five of them will tear Tinker to pieces, or better even get hooked on drugs and make them work for themselves. Fortunately, he already has experience of this.

A discreet knock interrupted his thoughts. The heavy breathing became confused, the hand under the table tensed — but only for a moment. Skidmark grinned wryly, amused, and ordered to enter.

A thin, lanky boy with a shifty look slipped into the room. He swallowed nervously and, without waiting for Skidmark to speak, carefully began to report:

— Boss... here one of the watchers reported that he saw two people running in our direction. He says that the first one slipped through too quickly and he didn't understand anything, but the second one was definitely in armor, technical. If nothing changes, they'll be here in ten minutes.

— I see… Great… Go," for some reason, the one who was called the boss was breathing raggedly, and his voice was somehow hoarse.

— Yes, boss ... — he had already turned around when he heard a strange sound — but, having frozen for a moment, he did not dare to ask and quickly left.

As soon as the door closed, Skidmark quietly growled something and moved away from the table, from under which he then, holding tightly by the hair, pulled the girl out.

Squealer could not restrain herself and hissed in pain, for which she was carelessly thrown to the floor. But she didn't say a word, only gently wiped her wet lips with a trembling hand. Skidmark smiled caustically and, buttoning his fly, said:

— Well done. Now go to your burrow, prepare your hardware and those machine guns that we bought last week. It's time to test the toys.

Squealer just nodded, not daring to look up, and started to get up, but received a heavy slap.

— Hey, did you hear me?!

— Yes, boss…

"Now go," he snapped shortly.

Squealer nodded again and hurried out of the room.

***

After a couple of minutes of running through doorways, alleys and all sorts of other hot spots, I began to realize that I should have put at least a little effort into creating transport. If not for myself — I was running now, not straining at all, and did not feel tired in any way — then for my traveling companion, who would not slow me down in such a case.

But, one way or another, we still got to our destination and were now inspecting it from a distance. It was lively. The building was surrounded by more than three dozen ordinary bandits with various weapons, and, I suspect, even more people should be inside.

The warehouse itself, which served as their base, was fortified as a miniature fortress. Several, as I see, homemade spotlights illuminated the area around, periodically checking the surrounding buildings. The very convenient location of the building leaves some free space around, which should not give the attackers the opportunity to pass, hiding behind something.

Although even here the Merchants were screwed up — a whole pile of various garbage and rusty car bodies was piled on one side of the building. I suspect that somewhere there should be a Squealer workshop.

I watched all this splendor from the screen of a drone hovering at some distance from the building and transmitting to me everything he saw. Some indicators near the dump site were clearly abnormal, which confirms my theory that Squealer works there.

Taking a small tablet out of my Pocket, I connected it to the same signal from the drone and already demonstrated the video stream to the Sharpener, who was looking at my equipment flying nearby with burning eyes.

— Here, look and explain to me what is here and where. I know the layout of the rooms, but I have no idea what's inside, so it would be awkward to destroy the wall and destroy something important that was behind it.

— Yeah. So, right now, let me think. Here," he pointed to the area I already knew, "is where the Squealer works. The pusher found her somewhere not much earlier than me, so he still doesn't really trust her and keeps a guard nearby. I do not know more, as you understand, I was not allowed here very much.

Scratching his nose, he continued:

— Here in this area, — he outlined the place, — living quarters. There are bedrooms, and you can eat, all that. Only the walls there are already broken, and it blows from somewhere forever, so if you break it, no matter how part of the building collapses. There are stairs up there, where they keep Jack, but I don't know anything about that place. There should be some other cells on the negative floors, but mostly the guilty are held and punished there. Well ... — here he hesitated, but under my gaze continued: — well, people from some, — he looked away from me and fell silent, swallowing saliva.

— And I don't know more, I was allowed to eat once, and once I got into the workshop, from where I was immediately kicked out. I drive around other warehouses more and guard them," he quickly added after a second.

— I see, — I sighed, — you don't know anything, I'll have to figure it out on the go. Weapons, money, drugs where should they be? At least approximately, maybe you heard what?

Rejoicing that he was not completely useless, the Sharpener, in whose eyes the light came back on, energetically began to tell everything he knew:

— Oh, I've heard different things here. Skidmark wants everyone to obey him like in the army and all that, so he tries to do everything like there, at least a little. Somewhere on the underground floor there should be a room with weapons, from where they will be given out in need. There should also be his "office" and "barracks" for personal protection. In general, he wanted to do a lot of different things, but he does not command real soldiers, but so… Well, some still walk with their weapons, guards often run away from their posts, yet alcohol and drugs are everywhere here. Well," the guy closed up and blushed, "women are constantly being driven. And sometimes even there, without leaving the post. Ahem... as I heard.

— Uh—huh, — I ignored the last part, - so all sorts of valuables must be somewhere below. Why isn't his room on the top floor? Well, like, a person with such an ego wouldn't want to climb higher?

— I don't know, somehow no one has ever talked about it. It seems that the roof once collapsed, maybe Skidmark thought it was unsafe there, and moved to a protected place. Or maybe not, I don't know.

— That's how it is, then… Yes, it's not very convenient, and there may be difficulties, but ... - I bit my lip, looking at the newly scanned plan of the building on the helmet visor. "I'm going to fight in the open anyway.

— What?! Why?! Wouldn't it be better to throw sleeping pills at everything again, and then stab them in the back while they look for us? — the young cape was perplexed by the plan I proposed. Although he was capable of decisive action, he would actually prefer to do without risk and therefore considered my actions strange.

— No, well, yes, your plan is objectively better, but there are a couple of "buts". Firstly, the grenades with sleeping pills have almost run out, and there are enough of them for the whole building. Secondly, Squealer could strengthen its transport so that the gas would not even get inside. And thirdly," I sighed, then continued, "I want to test myself.

— What? — turning in my direction, the Sharpener looked at me like a fool. — Why would you do that? I know you're cool. You defeated Lung himself, and then almost immediately made a good deal with PRT! Well..." he paused awkwardly, stunned by his own expression, "that's how they talked about you on the Internet. That's why I gave up right away, as soon as I recognized you, I realized that I couldn't cope with you in any way. And there," he waved his head in the direction from which we came, "you easily and quickly dealt with everyone. So I don't understand what your "I want to test myself" means.

I was a little embarrassed by how cool and invincible I was described, especially if I considered only the last case for my real victory. Lung was weakened, and PRT had no alternatives, so my charisma and business skills were not involved. Therefore, I think it was the merit of chance and my strength, but definitely not mine.

As if yes, I defeated Lung, but he was already beaten by his enemy and I was damn lucky to find the moment to attack.

That's just... that fight was a kind of turning point for me, different from everything I've done before. I don't know if it's the effect of my power or if I'm that kind of person, but that's when I felt really alive. For the first time in a couple of years, I really liked doing what I was doing, and I worked on this enthusiasm in the future.

Now I want to fight face to face with an opponent who will not be weakened by someone else. I don't want to always hit enemies in the back and out of the shadows, I don't want to use hordes of drones against a couple of opponents forever. The first two disappointed me, but I hope that in the workshop, although not very skilled, but still Tinker, I will meet worthy resistance.

From such thoughts, I was inspired and I was already impatient to rush into battle. But, no matter what, I was still going to prepare beforehand. It is necessary to transfer the drones to positions from where they will be able to detain possible fugitives or come to the rescue in an emergency, and to give the task to the same Sharpening. Otherwise, if he stays by himself, he probably won't sit still. It would be better for me if I knew where and what he was doing.

— It is necessary so, — I did not try to explain my desires and motives. — Here you go, — I give him a normal bulletproof vest with a helmet and a couple of grenades with soporific gas. — Can you shoot? — in response to an uncertain nod, I also take out a pistol with a tranquilizer and a couple of spare clips to it, and then I hand it over to the guy awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. — In general, while I'm out there fighting in the open, you'll have to sit here somewhere and not take risks. I can leave you a tablet, you will monitor what is happening on the cameras and, if necessary, call PRT. I gave you a weapon in case you miss your enemies and you are discovered and surrounded. In this case, use force at your discretion, but try to avoid killing. I don't care about the lives of criminals, but PRT will probably try to drag you and me to him under bonded conditions for this. I can leave, but you can't, so be careful. That's it, don't get bored here, — slapping the confused teenager on the shoulder, I jumped off the roof and moved towards the building.

***

I take out my trusty hammer, with pleasure feeling the weight in my hand starting to become familiar. He weighs, in theory, a lot, but my body enhancements would allow me to move even without reducing his weight, albeit slower, and if you twist that, then a couple hundred kilograms turn into single digits.

I deliberately move slowly, anticipating the future pleasure of a fight.

"Oh, there's not enough rain," a random thought flashes, "there would be a scene worthy of an action movie."

And so it happened. One of the searchlights smeared a beam of light on me, and after a few seconds the rays also fell on me from somewhere on the side.

A bright light, about ten thousand lumens, shines directly into me, without stopping. They probably want to burn out my eyes with such brightness. I can only grin — the smart filters of light in my mask will not allow such a thing to happen, but even if they did, I would be able to beat my enemies blindly. Normals, at least, for sure.

The moment my heightened senses caught the first clicks of the machine guns, I immediately began to move. In an instant, having overcome a couple of meters, I leave the illuminated area and dive behind a mountain of garbage, only to jump back out a second later.

This suspiciously good shooter (maybe he was a military man before, and then slipped to the bottom of society, who knows?) I did not expect such a maneuver, so his attempt to shoot immediately at the place from where I was supposed to run out does not succeed, apart from a couple of tanks torn to shreds with noise.

Approximately after the battle with Lung, I, as I wanted, created a block for Thinker forces, similar to the block for Tinker forces. There were loaded opportunities to feel both motion vectors, from Acupuncture, and trajectories, from the Circus. Acting simultaneously, they will give me enough accuracy to pull off what I'm planning.

However, when using them, I get various new sensations. The brain, being unprepared for such an unusual load, seemed to start itching every time. Although after enough training, the effect has decreased, but it's still unusual for me somehow.

While the shooting is concentrated elsewhere, I have a few seconds to counterattack. Shooting is not my choice. My choice is to put this car body right on the machine gun point on the roof. It shouldn't be too heavy, so if I do it right, no one will even die. Well, or… Okay, explaining to Armmaster won't be so much fun anymore.

For a moment, shifting my attention to the kinetic manipulator in the firing pin, I change the setting to the one I need. The indicators on the handle flash a pleasant bluish color, giving a sign that everything worked as it should.

In one short, almost gentle movement, I pick up the piece of iron and send it flying along the trajectory I need.

Describing a small arc, the body crashes right into the corner of the building and, bouncing off it, moves further and further, carried away by its own inertia. I don't see how both the machine gun and the machine gunner were shot down, and even some assistant standing nearby. It seems that there will still be serious damage... the poor things did not even have time to scream. But I don't have time — I'm already moving to the next, much larger group of enemies.

Bullets from their weapons only impotently strike the armor plates and deform, making a not too pleasant sound, unable not only to pierce, but at least to leave dents on the armor. I want to laugh at the top of my voice from the realization of my own strength.

With the discovery of gunpowder and the mass proliferation of firearms, a whole new era can be said to have begun. Whole armies turned out to be completely helpless and useless against the new force. Even now, after the devil knows how many years, firearms remain a very effective means of killing their own kind, and various bulletproof vests only allow you not to die, left with bruises or even with severe injuries.

But my armor? She doesn't even notice the hits! And I'm not changing its density now. Only due to their design, the armor plates are able to distribute the entire impulse evenly over the body. And I'm not talking about the metamaterials used in their creation! It was thanks to them that the hits from the machine gun practically did not throw me back, and the resulting momentum could be used by me in the future!

I checked all this, first putting myself under one of the small-caliber guns, and then increasing the level of danger until I began to move right through the lead rain flying towards me from all sides.

With every step I take, with every meter I overcome, the hands of my enemies begin to tremble more and more. They are afraid. They are afraid of me, an unstoppable machine for destruction, which all their preparations and all their tricks do not take. I'm not even trying to dodge, cheat and play — I like it. I like the feeling of power and power, and I can read this horror in their eyes even from this distance! The fragmentation grenades used by the bandits, just like bullets, are not capable of harming me. I even caught one of them in flight and let it explode right in my hand. It rumbled significantly, the hand was thrown back by the explosion and even for a moment there were micro-spasms, but other than that? Nothing!

But I didn't let them try to achieve more. With a powerful hammer blow, I hit the wall next to me, sending shards and brick dust towards the enemies, which filled the space between us, seriously impairing visibility and making it difficult to move for a while. I hope they are smart enough not to play with weapons in the zero visibility zone, otherwise they will kill each other… Someone has already been crushed by particularly large fragments, and they will not be able to return to service soon.

While the bandits are groaning trying to get out of the pile of fragments that hit them, I, following the data of the scanning module, instead of attacking in a straight line, climb onto the roof of the building.

And I'm not losing. Some fat guy with a sadistic grin on his face is already ready to throw a whole bunch of explosives down, right at his allies, whom I initially approached. So-so they have an understanding of teamwork here, of course… Such an explosion would not have stopped me, but normals would have been torn to meat, and Armmaster would have said a lot to me for what happened. Well, fuck him, it's easier to prevent this.

Looking at my figure, which appeared only a few meters away from him, the fat man slowly stops smiling, and his small, rat-like eyes gradually fill with fear as he realizes. He was going to kill the enemy by sacrificing a dozen cannon fodder and thus earn a reward and, most likely, a promotion. But there was no heroic self-sacrifice in his plans, only pure selfishness. So the usual getting into prison abruptly became a good option for him.

I can practically see similar thoughts flashing through his mind one after another as he slowly backs away. And it can be understood. The mere fact of a collision with a two—meter figure, completely covered with metal, can kill the desire to contradict, and what can I say if the person under this armor is your enemy ... It will be necessary to modify the helmet somehow so that you can make terrible faces and even more intimidate everyone to the shit.

I knock out the enemy, along the way, absolutely by accident (as I will say if asked), I break his wrists and confiscate explosives, after which I rush towards the remaining machine gunners. Some shooters did not notice me, while others are already trying to turn their weapons in my direction, desperately attracting the attention of their comrades with not always censorious shouts. Neither of them can cope with their task and follow their friends and colleagues into the world of dreams.

Actually, it's kind of disappointing so far. I don't feel any decent resistance. I haven't met Capes yet, and normals pose a threat only to their own comrades. About the expected struggle on the verge, as then, with Lung, it is possible not to talk. It's like not falling asleep from boredom. At this rate, I will only have to have fun on my own.

For example, a small but dangerous group of opponents is selected through a gap in the wall. Unlike all the previous punks, these are more like real soldiers. However, with an eye on the sunken cheeks, bruises under the eyes and shaking hands. I think this is Skidmark's personal company.

They're wearing the best armor I've seen today, and they have the best weapons in their hands—they even have a couple of revolver grenade launchers. You can see right away, dangerous guys... for someone else. I only see them as punching bags.

I am already jumping down in the usual way, right into the center of the group, who did not have time to completely leave the building. Even in flight, having thought through further actions, I mentally prepare, not realizing that I did not take into account one small moment.

The surface below me, which is a pile of fragments of bricks, dust and ordinary pebbles, is not stable, and only a professional parkour rider can land comfortably here. Well, or who do you need to be in order for everything to be successful? I urgently need to find Uber, or at least Victor, that skill thief from the Empire. And then soon the problems will consist in the fact that I do not know how to properly control my body, and not in the fact that I do not have enough strength.

In general, my jump ended in failure. The stone I stepped on just flew out from under my foot, and I myself, unable to keep my balance, fell on my back.

Right in the middle of an enemy squad…

The awkward silence lasted for about half a second, during which I only managed to recover from the fall. But my enemies turned out to be more agile, clearly showing their skills, which they apparently failed to drink during all this time.

— Fire! A two—meter-tall man with black, rotting teeth shouted hoarsely. And he himself, clearly setting an example, began to discharge his machine gun directly into my helmet. Feeling like I was literally being pressed to the ground by shooting from all sides, I could only try to hide from it with my hands. Although I boasted before, I know that my armor is not so perfect that it can safely withstand many hits in one place in a short period of time. Another half a minute in this position, and the plates will not stand, starting to split. Thanks for the stress test, guys.

I sigh as I activate the seal. An aura wave invisible to the whole surrounding world fills the mechanism, making it harder, heavier and generally less prone to breakage. The jokes are over, it's time to get serious.

Rolling over on my stomach, I forcefully push off the ground and get to my feet, immediately into a strike position. In fact, I have no experience in fights, and it would seem that I have nowhere to take even the power of Thinker for this now, but I have already figured out how to solve this problem.

In the wrist part of the armor, I had built-in small metal parts in advance. After a moment of concentration, I deploy them directly into my palm, thus getting a kind of brass knuckles. And now the database from Miss Militia is already reacting to it, forcing my body to move correctly when striking and even helping in the movement of my legs in battle.

I get to the big guy who has moved away from me and, having evaded, apparently, a reflex attempt to hit me with the barrel, I hit back.

I hit weakly, almost barely touching, remembering the fragility of the human body, but even this is enough for the ribs, along with the bulletproof vest, to crack with an almost audible sound, and the former soldier himself flew off a couple of meters, very unsuccessfully falling back right on the wreckage. Oops. Apparently, he's disabled now. Although not oops, it's my own fault. It was no good working for someone like Skidmark.

Without slowing down, I keep moving, jumping away from the leaden wasps that pierced the place where I was a moment ago. I was fast and strong before, but now, not even at my maximum, I have become an irresistible enemy even for hundreds of bandits like these.

My enhanced perception allows me to notice how the grenade throwers, who had not participated in the battle at all before, lost patience and opened fire on me. That's just me already moving towards them.

Shells explode one after another behind my back, periodically sending shrapnel into my back. This realization infuriated me. The targets of this rage will definitely not be well.

— Bitches! You! In! One! The team! — each of my blows is accompanied by a cry filled with contempt for the enemies. Bones crack and break, metal bends from blows, and groans fill the air. — So fight as a team! Why the fuck are you constantly trying to kill your own?! Why am I the only one here who cares about your useless lives?!

Without waiting for answers from the moaning bodies, I look around. Here and there the ground is loosened by explosions and shell hits, unconscious carcasses are lying around, marking the battle sites. The destroyed and cracking walls of the building also create the atmosphere that fighting has been going on here for a week.

But I don't find any new enemies, and neither does Squealer, who should have come here a long time ago. Did she fall asleep there?

Sighing, I fold the brass knuckles back and cancel the lock on the wrist joint. There is a price for everything, and for the ability to fight, I give the opportunity to do something else with my hands.

Now I was going to go around all those lying in sight and make sure that they would not die within half an hour from their wounds. After all, I'm not a beast and I have no desire to watch a dozen people die. It would be fine if it happened directly in battle, I have no problems with this, but I don't hate these people, so let them live.

Although the fuck knows what it will be like for them with similar injuries in the future, but ... hey! It's not my problem anymore. There was a fair battle, in which everyone wanted to injure each other, and some even to kill. I won, so my position is stronger, and when opinions collide, I was right.

That's just, before I have time to take a couple of steps, I ... fly up into the air, knocked down by a car that appeared out of nowhere.

— Seriously?! — I can't help but be mentally indignant. — Where have you been before?! There are only two hundred meters from the garage to this side of the building! Or is it some kind of rule that you need to attack in separate groups?!

This and similar thoughts flashed through my head while I was thinking, what should I do? I can't catch the approach until the moment of impact, and a couple of seconds when the disguise falls off is hardly enough for me to do something.

And what, I detonate a bomb? But, damn, I only have one, and even then, only because I made a prototype. According to all calculations, it should work, but what if the radius is less than planned? Well, fuck the risk, I'll just apply more tension. In theory, it should help. Just need to get closer to the workshop. If there is a chance to catch her somewhere, then only there.

I get out of acceleration and, having corrected my trajectory with the help of accumulated momentum, I land on my feet, almost without slowing down, starting to move in the direction I need.

So, the speed of the car was quite high, it is clearly faster than me. Then, taking into account the U-turn, it will take him about 11 seconds to overtake me. During this time, I will get to the corner of the building, and then it will be possible to blow up. The place is convenient, you can jump there and there, if anything. The walls are fragile, but at least something.

My thoughts were interrupted again. An armored minivan of red color, still appearing out of nowhere, throws me a couple of meters, right into a puddle of some kind of rot.

My patience ends there.

— Fuck you, bitches! Yes, now I'm going to burn out all the electronics in the quarter for you on principle! — I yell after these asshole drivers who don't hesitate to knock down pedestrians.

Without thinking about saving, I pull out a small black plastic box from my Pocket. A few buttons, flashing lights, wires almost completely entwined around her from all sides, pointed to her clearly technical origin and made it clear that you need to stay away from this thing.

I release the connection ports on the prosthesis, spend a couple of seconds setting up and charging, after which I throw the device into the air, where it works safely.

An invisible electromagnetic wave sweeps through space. The light sources are instantly turned off, plunging the perimeter of the building into darkness.

But the same effect also reveals the hidden and flaunts this... work of Squealer, slowly creeping in my direction.

A hefty, almost three-meter tank, created from disparate parts of different cars, rolled in my direction, striking with its terrible condition.

In every sense.

I am amazed at how Squealer was able to make such a thing move. Yes, slowly, but move! Judging by the thickness of the armor completely covering it, this tank should weigh under sixty tons, which should be a hell of a lot for a homemade device of this quality.

I'm not even sure how I need to pick something like that. I'm definitely not ready for this situation. Maybe you can open the hatch and get inside? Sounds like a plan.

I get out of acceleration and only after that I realize that the barrel of the tank is already pointed at me. And it glows from the inside brighter and brighter…

— Fuck ... — I barely have time to think this, as a hefty metal block, which flew in my direction with great speed, instantly overcomes a dozen meters and hits me.

Armor plates at the point of impact immediately crumble into dust. Not designed for such a large impact force, they are overloaded with energy, which leads to the fact that they began to crack. But the projectile at that time lost only about half of the momentum. And my body is already forced to accept this remainder.

Although the blow falls on a tangent, it did not make it easier for me. Even when compacted, the flesh diverges like the earth under a shovel entering it. Well, that's how I flew. I could say that hitting the wall and its subsequent destruction by my body was painful, but I won't lie. I didn't feel a damn thing, except for a slight disorientation from moving quickly in space, thanks to me from the past, who guessed to turn off the pain.

But what worried me was that the projectile, which is an ordinary lead rod, could not stand it and flew apart in a bunch of red-hot small pellets that pierced my body and stuck there, frying my flesh. The injury is not super critical, but getting them will be a chore, and it will take a lot of time.

For almost any other Cape, injury is the thing he avoids in every possible way. Their wounds only take away the strength and time needed for treatment.

I'm glad of them. Wounds for me mean only that the armor did not cope with the task, that there is something that I did not think through, something that I did not prepare for. I can analyze my weaknesses and mistakes and become much stronger and better in the future.

Only now I need to live up to this very future. I'm sure Squealer has already targeted this building and is waiting for me to come out to open fire on me again.

What do I need? I know the victory condition — I need to get to the tank and, having opened it, get inside. Squealer is an ordinary person who does not have the ranks of a Bully, she will not be able to resist me.

What's stopping me? The muscles on the chest and near the shoulder are cut by shrapnel, my living, non-metallic arm hangs limp stump. I can't take more than one more hit like that. Then you will definitely need to run away, failing to cope with the task. And I, lately, hate not fucking coping with something. My whole being is enraged by the mere thought that I will have to be in a state again when I cannot do something, change something. So fuck the escape, I'm going all the way.

So, what do I need then? I have already accumulated quite a lot of charges, it's time to spend a little. I don't see any point in increasing protection — I just need to avoid being shot. Hmm... Mover power?

If I were a cartoon character, I would be able to see the light bulb above my head now. Looking through the mental list of accumulated blocks of abilities, I suddenly realized what I was missing.

A sense of danger! This is a fucking topic! And I will surely be able to adjust and not just a feeling!

I am immersed in my work, starting to create a new force.

I'll take as a basis ... hmm, this part is from the strength of the Lung. It works by itself as a sense of danger, but I can do even better. Here we will connect this block [scanning of the environment] from the Circus and [feeling of trajectories] together with [feeling of vectors]. Agas, super. If you twist it here, we will get a force capable of understanding when an object hits me and when it doesn't.

Tek-s, then we'll add... we'll add... aha, this will fit here. I single out from the forces of the Miss Militia the part that means [simulation of actions with the selected object] and work further with it. The first unit of this force is configured to simulate possible damage. I don't have to dodge right every object that can touch me, just something that carries a threat. The second block, flowing smoothly from the first, is already responsible for possible options for avoiding the attack. Hmm, and I can probably connect this wiring coming from my head here, and then mainly those options that correspond to my goals and will not interfere with me will be selected.

Well, the power base has been created, now it remains only to program everything correctly, otherwise, if I screw up, I, on the contrary, will be exposed to any attack. You need to think about it carefully.

…

…

Damn, brains are melting. Of course, I started learning programming, but my level is clearly below the required one. It should work, although everything turned out to be confused and confused. But I still finished the job, finally connecting the most necessary part — [body control Power] from Tinkers forces. Now I don't even have to react myself, the body will do everything by itself, following my subconscious preferences (or Power preferences, as I suspect).

So, let's see how much all this splendor will cost. HOW MUCH?! EIGHT CHARGES?!

Power, what the fuck?! Did I have a free grace period before, they say, everything for half price?!

Are you silent?! Well, fuck you, take your damn charges, give me my brand-new ability here.

Eight stars are swaying in my mind, merging into a beautiful dance. They move in orbits, rotate around each other and simultaneously pour out a whole ocean of energy into the surrounding space. A magnificent sight. It's the first time I've spent that much at a time, isn't it?

Hmm, while I'm lying here, maybe I should cook up a little regeneration for myself? Again through simulations, so that it acts pointwise, on the muscles, tissues and organs that I need most.

Yeah, I'll do that.

Here we will take this part from the Triumph, here part from the Panacea, we will connect it here… I give four charges (fuck you, Power) and launch both new abilities.

A moment later, I get a new feeling that tells me that in about two seconds, if nothing is changed, a new projectile will fly into me right through the wall. Apparently, Squealer still has some way of tracking me.

I get out of Acceleration and push off the ground with my second, intact arm. She, representing a mechanical prosthesis, does not need many muscles, like the left one, and is now able to act with maximum efficiency.

A second after my roll, the wall explodes with a cloud of dust and fragments, a loud noise momentarily deafens me, and a hefty hole about half a meter deep forms in the middle of the floor, surrounded by traces of explosion and destruction.

Squealer in his car beats his hands on the steering wheel with annoyance, trying not to touch the control panel. For some poseur in a fancy suit to run away from her? Skidmark will kill her! Nothing, she has already hit once, now he will crawl out into the open, and…

My new healing power has already begun its work, and I feel the fragments stuck in me being pushed out by the growing flesh. Damn, and I just realized right now that the resources of my body will be spent on treatment, no energy supplement from the source of power, like other regenerators, is not expected. It will be necessary to build up something after the fight that will store a whole bunch of energy for treatment. Such warehouse tumors.

I quickly get up from the ground, starting the generator in my chest in the process. Electricity runs through my nerves and muscles, strengthening them and making them stronger. Now I need all my speed to cross the space between the building and the tank, avoiding hits with the help of a new force. I put the damaged armor in my Pocket — I could restore it right during the battle due to the fact that it was modular, like all my other developments, but it will take some time, which I don't have.

Left with only a torn poddospeshnik in the chest area, I begin to move. The electricity rushing through my body makes my reactions and movements incredibly fast, and thanks to the sense of danger, I can literally dodge bullets.

Which I do, taking a long leap away from the next machine-gun burst and from the wreckage of a battered building, already ready to fall apart from the bombardment to which it was subjected.

Behind the roar of weapons, even despite the powerful speakers, you can't hear how loudly Squealer swears, trying to predict the trajectory of the target and direct the sight to the right point ... Unsuccessfully, of course.

Rolling a little awkwardly, I jump to my feet and keep running. Various sharp debris tries to dig into my defenseless feet, but the reinforced flesh does not even notice such attempts, allowing me to rush at great speed even in unsuitable places.

Relying on speed turns out to be the right decision. The projectile of the tank's main gun reaches such speeds with each shot that avoiding a hit remains almost a miracle. Still not fully healed injury hinders.

Bullets are whistling around me, shells are flying a few centimeters from my skin, leaving hefty craters in the ground, and I keep moving. It's been what, fifteen? twenty seconds? I do not know, time is distorted for me in such a tense state. A stream of insults is heard above the buildings, which is poured out on me from the car by an opponent who feels powerless in front of my speed. I move along a curved, ragged trajectory, exerting all my strength in order to avoid everything that flies at me at all. Of course, ordinary bullets could be ignored, there is little harm from them, but ... in addition to the inevitable victory, I also need skill training, and such an obstacle course should help me get used to new feelings.

Here I am slightly tilting my head to the side, not letting the bullet hit me right in the eye, and here I am already slipping under a tank shell that whistled a dozen centimeters away from me. I change the trajectory with a sharp roll and start running again.

— Haha, by again, stupid, — like a professional high jumper, I fly over a stone shrapnel caused by another explosion, and start to wind up again. My slightly insane laughter echoes over the battlefield, unnerving my opponent even more. It seems that in the pursuit of a sense of invincibility, I still blew the roof off.

But I don't care. I fucking got almost to the tank itself without a scratch at all! Without a single fucking one! I feel like a highly rated Thinker who knows exactly what he needs to do to win. And I fucking want more of these tests. It's a pity that's all. Although the tank is a full—fledged fortress, but the weapons on it are bullshit. One main barrel, a bunch of machine guns and some kind of mortar on top. The latter was dangerous only due to the effect of surprise. An almost panicked Squealer cry is heard from inside — it seems that she is heartily reviling someone… Most likely, this someone is me... for me, it sounds more like compliments.

— You fucking rabbit, will you stop even for a second, tear you in all holes?! Fuck, do you think, since you're spinning like a frying pan, so I won't get you? Did you think at all, who are you barking at?.. — it seems that she has not finished her incredibly informative speech yet, distracted by something.

I have to overcome the last ten meters, and I slow down slightly, listening to the Squealer's voice amplified by technology.

— In the end oborzel, the guy? Yes, you ... — even the interference does not prevent me from hearing how the girl's voice trembled from my unexpected stop. — What are you, fucking, completely crazy, to move on Merchants alone?! Fuck off, or I'll... — with every step I take, her voice gets quieter, and I can clearly hear the doubt and fear in her tone.

Maybe she finally realized that she was not on the winning side at all?.. Although she is rather afraid of what Skidmark will do to her in case of failure.…

I'm calmly going forward without having a drop of fear after all these threats. The shooting has stopped for some time now, and we have moved into a certain state of parity.

Stopping right in front of the tank, I calmly start a conversation, looking straight into its muzzle.

There is no threat to me. I'm in the safest place on the battlefield right now. Shots were always foreshadowed by a glow from inside the barrel, and from here I can literally see the danger, even without using force.

— Or right now what are you? — although only a dozen seconds ago I was excited, my voice is calm, without betraying a drop of my emotions. Long practice, what to say.

— Will you shoot again? We've already found out, you won't get anywhere with this. And you don't have any more options," I shake my head in disappointment. "Just give up peacefully, Squealer. You wasted your time on this shit instead of something normal, and that's why you lost. You had such potential, and you," an exaggerated sigh, "are wasting it on serving a petty drug lord. I would say that you are a disgrace among all Tinker.

My words cause exactly the effect I expected — an explosion of emotions. During my acrobatic exercises, I heard several times the muttering of a careless Squealer, who forgot to turn off the microphone, that she was afraid of punishment from Skidmark. And she works for him, apparently, not out of great love. It even made me laugh — is there anyone here at all who works on their own? You also tell me that Skidmark has a daughter with cancer, so he collects it for treatment, yeah.

— What the fuck do you know about what it's like to be a Tinker?! Fucking major, bought himself an armor and went out to play outside. Of course, for a Brute like you, my baby will be bullshit! How can you even talk about someone's potential, do you fucking know what conditions I have to work in?

"I think they are very straitened," I reply humbly, raising my hands palms up in a gesture of peace.

There is no point in continuing the conflict anymore, I think we both understand who is the winner here, so why not have a chat? Moreover, due to this, I hope to compensate for at least a couple of charges.

— Exactly, fuck! You'll never understand what it's like to work among piles of garbage, without normal tools, and when they constantly demand some shit from you that you don't understand how to do at all! — Squealer poured out on me all the pain that she kept to herself. Apparently, she doesn't have much with her interlocutors there.

— Even so, with a motherfucking boss, with stupid assistants who burned their brains out completely with all sorts of shit and who are afraid to entrust even garbage removal, I fucking managed to build this handsome man. You don't dare say anything bad about my work, not when you probably haven't created anything in your life. You guys are all fucking like that. They became a little stronger than ordinary people, and immediately imagined themselves important birds.

"Well, you're right about something. I really don't know what it's like to work under some kind of motherfucker and do something that I don't like," I say calmly, slowly moving along the hull under the sight of several cameras that allow Squealers to monitor the world around them. I was interested in an interesting arrangement of armor plates and ... explosives on the body, apparently performing some kind of protective role.

— After all, I'm a loner. We don't take my boss from one of the previous jobs into account, we're talking about something else entirely. But you're wrong about something," I pull the pseudo-flesh back into its storage, allowing the metal of the prosthesis to flash under the spotlight. Raising my hand, I pointedly move my fingers in front of the sensors aimed at me, giving me the opportunity to make sure that this is not some kind of deception. — I'm a Tinker too. And I have the right to evaluate your work from this position. And my verdict is all bullshit, as good as possible. Give me a day to familiarize myself with your work, and I guarantee you that the copy will be better than the original.

— And what, you asshole, decided to brag? Humiliate me even more? Fuck you, huh," the girl's voice is filled with anger, subsiding before the beginning of hysteria. — You fucking came here, beat up people and destroyed everything around to what? To stand in front of me and tell me what a stupid cunt I am, right?! Yes, I have enough of this shit from Skidmark without you, eh! Fuck, I'm listening to you at all, I'd rather just blow your stupid head off if you, you idiot, put it in the barrel yourself!

Fuck, I'm definitely overestimating my negotiation skills. Why am I so self-confident now, I've always been normal and, like, adequate. But, anyway…

— You're still listening to me because we both understand that you have no chance of winning ... — explosions are heard somewhere in the distance. I, who did not expect the continuation of the battle at all, decide to immediately check what is visible from the drones there, and…

Damn…

I forgot about the drones. In the heat of battle, I never once remembered about them, and left them hanging on the position I gave them then. Or not? For some shit, the picture that started being broadcast on the screen was completely different from the one I expected.

What the fuck? I what… Yes, I did it.

I immediately wanted to beat my head against the wall. I gave Sharpening a tablet with the same connection to Drones as I have in my helmet. With. The. Same. To be more precise, I first created that tablet, and after thinking about it, I transferred all the functions to the helmet, leaving the prototype to gather dust in the warehouse. And this young suicide somehow managed to navigate the controls and used drones to attack vehicles with ... a pusher, apparently. I definitely need to start keeping track of what I'm giving and to whom.

— Over there, — I waved my hand casually in the direction of the explosions, — my drones are now preventing Skidmark from escaping from me. And they're doing pretty well. Understand, Squealer, Skidmark has already been practically captured, your other two capes will not help you in any way — I met them first. My implants give me enough strength and strength to pull you out of the tank by force, ignoring any resistance.

"And why am I still sitting here inside if you're as cool as you think you are?" The sarcasm in her voice could almost be felt physically. — I've seen you throwing cars around here, but that's not fucking enough.…

I interrupt any objections and dissatisfaction with my sword, pulled out of my Pocket and pierced through the armor, getting right to the Squealer cabin. During the conversation, I managed to conduct a surface scan of the tank and found that Squealer was forced to weaken the protection in some places in order to connect various cameras and other sensors. To the naked eye, this weakness was absolutely not visible, and even the size of such a place was too small for a normal attack.

But I, being a person capable of detecting such a thing, did not fail to take advantage of the opportunity. The razor-sharp blade of the elongated sword was now only a dozen centimeters from the unprotected neck of Tinker, who, realizing the threat, immediately decided to shut up.

— Quiet. As I said, I am able to pull you out by force, but I have no desire to be blown up by..." I pointedly examined the explosives on the armor, "... this is all and then spend time cleaning up the stuck fragments and restoring. I SEE all the flaws and weaknesses in the armor and I will use them without any problems to pull you out even by force. So don't be silly, please turn off the protection and get out.

***

Squealer was still hesitating. She was certainly frightened by the strength demonstrated by Cape, who was now standing right in front of the trunk again, looking at something inside with interest. The confidence he showed made it clear that he was absolutely convinced of his victory if Sherrell still wanted to continue the fight.

Except she didn't want to anymore. Yes, there were still primal impulses inside her, prompting her to continue the clash until the death of one of the fighting capes, but she managed to suppress them with an effort of will. She wasn't sure how much her enemy had strengthened himself, but she saw how his body easily endured what caused part of his armor to crumble into dust. And that said something.

— Okay, I get it. I will come out," she said slowly, trying to give herself time to think, "but where are the guarantees that you are not deceiving me now and will not kill me or kidnap me for something?

When, after her words, a man in a creepy black helmet stared straight at her, ignoring the fact that they were separated by almost fifty centimeters of metal, Squealer, mentally cursing herself, realized what a mistake she had made. Cape hadn't reacted to her swearing before, but the fact that she questioned his words seemed to really hurt him. And she didn't want to anger Brute at all, probably capable of breaking her bones with his bare hands.

She didn't know anything about who her enemy was, but... Squealer bit her lip in thought while she turned off the locking systems and forced the hydraulics to open the heavy hatch. ...if he is telling the truth that Skidmark will not come for her anymore, and the rest of the Merchant capes are not capable, then she is not so against working for him. Squealer was already used to obeying someone, almost a year in the possession of the Pusher knocked out of the once proud girl any desire to resist.

Even if this cape was as violent as Skidmark, which she doubted, Squealer would be glad to be able to work in a normal workshop with normal materials. Just by looking at the technological helmet, the girl could tell that its creator definitely has no problems with either the first or the second. And the cape itself, being a Tinker, should understand its capabilities and limitations and is unlikely to demand the impossible from it.

Sighing in a fit of self-pity and for her lost freedom, Squealer climbed up the stairs.

***

After half a minute of hesitation and reflection, Squealer still decided to get out. At the same time, I was standing, staring at one point, thinking about her words.

She's damn right! I don't have any reputation right now, and my words carry almost no weight for others. It's decided, I'll finish tonight, update my technologies and I'll... I'll... I'll.... Fuck knows what I'm going to do. Maybe I should become a mercenary? Well, you know, I will travel around the cities, meet with the Capes on completely logical grounds, study their powers, receive money from them. And along the way, I'll earn a name for myself there. It's not like I'm hanging around in my native Brockton Bay.

— Hey! Help me down," a shout from above distracted me from my thoughts, "there are equipped exit spots in the hangar above the parking lot, but I'm not ready to just jump to the ground. I'm not a fucking Brute, you know.

Sounds fair. I put the gun back in my Pocket and jump. The metal, slippery from the humid night air, almost makes me shamefully slide back to the ground, but I stay in place by only slightly bending my body. Having stabilized my position, I raise my head and look at the Squealer.

My opponent appeared before me. It turned out to be a medium-sized woman with light hair carelessly combed into a ponytail and funny bright glasses on her head. I wonder why such, with colored glasses?

I looked at her completely —a tight gray T—shirt with a large neckline, wide khaki pants, a work belt - with tools, no weapons. On his feet were quite good military—style boots, on his hands, clogged with tattoos - bright purple (?) work gloves.

In general, I imagined something like this, except for makeup, which probably aims to hide the bruises under the eyes and distract attention from the redness of these very eyes and the look of a drug addict who is already starting to miss the dose, which, however, did not really work out.

There was a fresh abrasion on her cheek — either she had grappled with someone, or the consequences of dissatisfaction with her superiors… However, it doesn't matter anymore.

I enter the acceleration and begin to study her strength.

The most important part, the one for which I came here at all and participated in these battles, was right in the middle of the power structure I perceived. Like a long-awaited birthday present, she stands out for me with her scheme.

A database concerning the creation and improvement of vehicles.

I smile inwardly as I take this gift.

Damn it, my drones, after all, in some way, also belong here. Already their next version will be significantly superior to its predecessors. This is not to mention the fact that I have learned about a variety of new alloys, polymers and metamaterials, which, for example, will help me both reduce the friction force to almost zero and increase it to a huge amount. And what efficient engines come out! Wow, beauty!

Nearby, I notice another partially familiar structure — a simulation that helps Cape use the object of this very simulation with maximum efficiency. In this case, it concerns the management of various vehicles.

That's it, I decided, as soon as I get home, I will definitely create a force so that all these simulations can be connected not one by one, but as with technical specializations — all together.

Well, that's about it, you can go back to the real world.

— Well, the damsel in distress, are we going down? I say mockingly after a second, hinting at her situation in general.

Squealer, apparently, does not miss this moment, but there is nothing he can do.

— Fuck you! — she mutters softly to herself, still heading in my direction.

I pick her up in my arms and jump down. Her short cry makes me laugh, although outwardly I still don't show any feelings.

Putting the girl on her feet, I point to a stone slab nearby and say in an imperative tone:

— Sit down and sit here. Preferably without making any sounds.

— And what are you going to do now? — Squealer asks me a question, flexing his muscles after sitting in a chair and slowly heading to the indicated place.

— To guard you. And I'm also going to stop Skidmark leaving this place and trying to escape. You can look at a real technician at work and draw conclusions.

— Fuck you, huh. Maybe I gave up, but I'm not going to tolerate your bullshit," this offended loser began to grumble at my back, but I'm not listening to her anymore. Taking the nutrient mixture out of my Pocket, I take off the lower part of the helmet, leaving only the screen and sensors I need to control, after which I stick to the package.

A thick gray mixture of chocolate flavor flows through my esophagus, getting into my stomach and giving a large number of calories to the body, which has spent a lot of energy recovering from injuries. Since I've improved myself, I've generally had to eat more. Now, after the treatment, the need for nutrients has intensified to such an extent that I have already drunk two packs, but I still do not have enough, so two more are opened and ready for use. An ordinary person would be able to live on this for at least a month without experiencing hunger, provided they spend wisely, of course. If I always stayed a little hungry, I would have lasted two. It's a good thing, but synthesizing it is a headache. The slightest mistake, and the balance will go wrong, and instead of normal saturation, you will get an ulcer or even poison yourself.

There are still small problems there — taste, for example. I couldn't do anything here — it turns out a rather nasty taste, because of which I then want to clean my tongue with a brush. Personally, I got out by manually influencing the taste buds, giving the taste that I want, but what an ordinary person will do, I have no idea.

But, anyway, the fight continues. Sharpening, who had no experience and knowledge of management, used drones, even combat ones, in the most straightforward way — as guided projectiles. In a good way, he should be prescribed a belt for such disposal of someone else's property, but I don't care too much to punish him. Tomorrow they will all be reworked into a better version, so even if something is crumpled, broken and slightly broken, everything will still be melted down and improved. And the upbringing of other people's children is not my concern.

But what I care about is Skidmark, who has already recovered from an unexpected ambush and launched a counterattack. Several of his shot guards are already lying nearby, peacefully drooling from sleeping pills in their bodies. The remaining couple walk around the guy from the side, probably intending ... I have no idea what they intend to do. Maybe grab him and subdue him again? Well, they don't shoot at him — and that's fine. Okay, it's time to end this farce.

I allocate several combat drones — one for each fighter and two more for Skidmark, to be sure — as well as several scouts with sleeping darts still preserved and begin to give them commands.

The pusher at this time is too busy fighting to notice that the aircraft that had been frozen in place before now began to move. Brightly glowing bluish circles begin to cover his clothes and disperse to different places on the battlefield. The dust raised from the action of these circles absorbs the Sharpening, forcing him to pick it out of his eyes and spit through his bandana.

The pusher moved across the dust, creating new glowing circles on his clothes and under his feet, due to which his every step was larger than usual. That's just his maneuver is interrupted before it even starts. A combat drone with enough speed, strength and mass to knock a person off his feet flies straight into him from an unexpected direction.

A sharp push almost makes Skidmark fall, shouting curses, but he miraculously still keeps on his feet. His clothes, covered with power circles, pushes the drone away from the cape, but... I had the foresight to use two at once.

So you still have to feel the ground with the face of Skidmark. After a short fall caused by another collision, Skidmark falls on his stomach and rolls down the street for a couple of seconds under the influence of his own force, tearing off the skin on his hands. Having recalled the circles in a flash of light, he stops and tries to get up, but the moment is already lost — the drone, which does not really know how to shoot at moving targets, has already worked out an attack on a stationary target and flies away from there.

Two militants are already unconscious at this moment, there were no problems with them.

It was this moment that the Sharpener chose in order to jump out of the settling cloud of dust. Being ready to continue the fight, he immediately stands up, but he does not detect his enemy. Just a swarm of drones gathered around him in a semicircle.

To the guy's credit, he has the decency to at least look ashamed that he used my drones without permission.

Oh, and here comes the help! I wonder why they always arrive after the fight or at the end of it?

With a sigh and a slight shake of my head, I put the empty pack of food mixture that I sucked during this remote fight back into my pocket, after which I get up and turn to Squealer, who was sitting with a bored look where I put her:

— Let's go up! The cavalry has arrived there, and now we are going to them, where I will hand you over to the clutches of the state," Squealer does not look pleased with such a statement, although she has already resigned herself to the fact that this will happen.

— Oh, come on, I'm sure the situation is not so bad, — I pat the girl on the shoulder and begin to lead her in the direction I need. — Unlike the others, you weren't even beaten, and I'll put in a good word for you, saying that I was prudent and gave up myself. And you're not alone ‐ your former colleague Sharpening will also get to them, although on slightly better terms, I think. —

— Wait! — Squealer breaks out of my hands and, after taking a few quick steps, turns to me with a strange indignant-admiring expression on his face. "Did that little shit bring you here?" And I fucking told Skidmark right away that he wouldn't obey him," an evil grin blooms on her face. — Serves him right, shit-eater. Let him accept the consequences of his actions," she walked beside me again.

— It's necessary ... — the girl looks at my figure with her eyes. "Where did he find you anyway?" He's just a little jerk who can't do anything without his mom. —

Well, I don't know, he didn't seem like that to me.

— I won't say anything about the latter, but he didn't find me. He just happened to be smart enough to figure out which side the power was on and say the right words. Just like you did. But his partner did not know how to assess the situation, so she will wake up already in a cage. —

— And fuck her. So, wait, — Squealer looks back at his former base, — and you... aren't going to take anything from there? Like, why else would they attack us? —

No, well, I've already received my benefit. But you can't explain it to her. Just what do they have there that would make me choose this, rather than go and study the power of the Pusher before he is taken to jail? Many millions of dollars or more effort to study, which will give me a lot of information?

— Do you have any more capes there? —

Squealer frowns and shakes his head negatively.

— Rare materials that every technician needs? —

Here she starts to look sullen, but still answers:

- no. Not that Skidmark is spending on me. I tried to escape once, so he stopped giving me at least something normal. —

— Maybe a lot of money? —

Sigh.

— I get it. No, there's not really any money there either. The pusher just the day before bought a large batch for sale and ordered weapons. Maybe two hundred thousand left. —

I whistle to myself. Maybe they should also do drug business, since Merchants earn so much that two hundred thousand for them is just the remainder of the amount. But money is not that important to me. I would have easily paid the two hundred thousand for a meeting with some Cape. And if we consider that the effect of the acceleration of the projectile in the barrel of the tank was, with a high degree of probability, created precisely on the basis of the Pusher force, then it may well be worth the money. Yes, there are a lot of possibilities for application!

— No, bullshit, let's go. I'm not interested in drugs either. By the way," I grin, because we have already come to where I wanted. — can you drive? —

— Oh, fuck you, huh! —

***

— ...and that's the kind of bullshit you have with this knot. A little load of what goes — and the speed drops to zero. —

Squealer and I were driving along the night road in one of the previously invisible cars abandoned by her former assistants. This particular one was one of the pair on which they tried to knock me to death. However, I didn't hold a grudge against the car and chose it as the highest quality (in appearance, for sure).

During the trip, a dialogue naturally began, which has now flowed into a discussion of any technicality.

— Have you tried replacing that block with four smaller ones, but connected through branched ports? Well, so that the voltage is evenly distributed and the load is not superfluous? The size of the system will not change much, but the problem will be solved. Right here. —

Squealer turned the steering wheel, the car turned into a new street with a roar, and the girl stared in my direction with poorly concealed surprise.

— What the fuck?! she exclaimed. — Why are you better at this than I am? I've been fucking racking my head for a week, and a second later you can already give an answer! And after all, it can work! —

I grinned.

— Well, I already told you that I only need a day to start doing better than you. So I confirm my words. Even it took much less time than stated. —

"I would slap you for your constant bragging, but I'm afraid it won't help," Squealer muttered to herself, hoping that I wouldn't hear her. —

— Yeah, it won't help. Turn left here and brake. We arrived. Be quiet, I'll talk myself. —

The car turned onto another street and began to slow down. Even without my warning, Squealer would surely have done the same. Several PRT vans blocked the passage to the battlefield. Five people with weapons in their hands were pointing this very weapon towards our car. The Armmaster leading the whole procession was looking in our direction with a tense expression on his face, clutching his halberd tightly and saying something into the microphone. M-yes, no hospitality.

— Brake my door to them and drive a little further as I get out, — I ordered, patting Squealer on the shoulder. I wanted a spectacular appearance of something.

The girl just nodded silently, nervously biting her lip. It was just beginning to dawn on her that now her fate would depend on the mercy of a complete stranger, with whom she had recently fought. Intellectually, she understood that she had done the right thing and that resisting and defending the gang she didn't really love to the end would only make it worse for her, but such reflections did not help her cope with emotional experiences.

The car began to slow down in front of the tense soldiers, and, at the moment of turning, I just opened the door and went outside. The inertia that was supposed to knock me off my feet was correctly used by me in order to move forward straight and confidently, without even slowing down.

— Is this how you meet important guests?! I exclaimed with a grin in my voice. — Where is the orchestra, where is my red carpet?! I thought I deserved more respect for having sorted out your problems. —

"Pertinax," the Armmaster sighed, gesturing to his subordinates that the weapon could be lowered. "You chose a terribly inappropriate way to arrive. Because of the battle that took place here, we are forced to detain all suspicious persons, ESPECIALLY if they use technical transport. Former Merchants are running in all directions, and if it weren't for your warning call, many would have fled to other parts of the city with a lot of weapons in their hands. —

"Well, you see how good I am," I said, sensing from my tone which way the conversation was going. But I couldn't help but add fuel to the fire. — And provided people with work, and cleaned the city. The same advantages. And you talked me out of it. —

— And rightly so, — Armmaster raised his voice slightly, his stern expression spoke of how disappointed he was in my sanity. Or am I just figuring it out? — The consequences of your escapade were dozens of wounded, injured by fleeing Merchants. The police have already started receiving reports of attempted robberies and attacks in a state of passion. And you say you did everything right? —

Is it that they still want to make me guilty for other people's actions?

— Yes, that's what I meant. With those who are now running around the city, it turned out inconvenient, of course. But are you really trying to convince me that leaving the gang alone was the best way out? — I tilted my head slightly to the side, looking Armmaster straight in the eyes (well, or in the part of the helmet where they should be). — Did you know that the Pusher was expecting a large supply of weapons from day to day? And he was definitely not going to use it to bring peace and joy. No, what I did was necessary and right. Now let the police start working off the taxes that people pay for its maintenance. I took out every cape in the gang, and without them, you really try to cope with ordinary people. —

Armmaster grimaced.

— How difficult it is with you… Could you at least wait for my arrival, as you were told, so that the PRT would have time to take measures and prevent riots? — Armmaster asked in a tired tone, no longer angry, but just tired. I also decided to slow down — I don't think I will achieve anything with aggression.

— Think about it. During the time you were driving, Skudmark probably would have had time to prepare properly, and we would have been met not by scattered groups of enemies, but by full-fledged detachments sitting on the defensive under the protection of machine-gun points and various Squealer equipment. Yes, it was there right now, I don't know how, but they found out about my arrival in advance and began to prepare. And they were enough to break through my armor and even hurt me a little. I doubt that you have a Brute rating and are able to return to the battlefield as soon as possible after being wounded. So it was most effective for me to go to the assault alone. —

— Okay… It's not my problem anymore, and it's not for me to lecture you. —

"What do you mean?" —

— Piggot will give you an invitation to a meeting. She wants to discuss something. You'd better hurry up—the conversation can drag on without that. —

I didn't understand. Did he just sort of order me to? Funny… Not that I was really going to obey anyone. On principle, I would refuse and would come at the moment when it is convenient for me.

— Oh, what honors are being heaped on me. The director herself found time for me! Or did she even decide to interrupt her sleep for me? It doesn't matter, but I'm flattered, really! However, you know, what a pity — I'm a little tired right now, and to come to such an important meeting in such an unpresentable form," I pointed to my body, running my palm from top to bottom. Dirt, various small debris and my blood stuck to the suit, creating the image of a kind of tramp killer. And the suit itself was far from in the best condition. Even if I replaced the damaged plates with new ones (thank the modular system!), I was unable to remove other signs of damage. Small chips, cracks and scratches were everywhere except the chest, which hinted, you know. — It's a bit not comme il faut, you know... let's just say I'll call you myself as soon as I'm ready, okay? —

Armmaster seemed to want to object something, but I didn't let him, quickly continuing:

— Speaking of meetings! Just look who I've brought! — I pointed my hand in the right direction, where Squealer was awkwardly hesitating by the car, being under the supervision of several soldiers at once. — Do you want to meet a lady? —

Armmaster took a brief look in that direction, and then continued:

"Pertinax, your attempt to change the subject won't work on me. —

Ah, slander and slander.

— But I didn't try to change the subject. I've already done that. —

Seeing that the hero only frowned at my words, I sighed and spoke:

— Listen, Armsi. I can call you that, right? I ignored his frown and his attempt to say no. — I'm not going to go somewhere in a weakened state. You can threaten me and swear at me as much as you like, but I'm not going to put myself in a weak position for anything. So either we meet when I'm ready, or we don't meet at all. —

Armmaster didn't say anything, just looked at me in silence. I stared back. None of us had our eyes covered by the visors of our helmets, but I am sure that our gazes were directed exactly into the eyes of the opponent.

It was Armmaster who decided to end this senseless confrontation first.

"All right, I'll report to Piggot. But don't think that the world will always revolve around you. Many newcomers died because of an inflated conceit. —

What an absurdity. My conceit is definitely not overstated. How many capes below the Triumvirate level can easily cope with whole gangs waiting for their appearance? That's it, but I can.

— Yeah, thanks for the advice. And now, can I have a look at Skidmark and go to rest? I came here just for him, you know. —

Tinker didn't answer me right away, but started saying something into the microphone. The noise reduction systems in the helmet were so good that I couldn't catch a word, but Cape seems to have already received an answer. After uttering another command, he turned to me already:

"Normally it would be forbidden, but I got permission for you. You will have no more than ten seconds to contact, after that Skidmark will be taken away. Is everything clear? —

— Yeah, that's right. By the way, I promised Squealer a break for giving up on her own. So I think you guys have a great chance of recruiting her. But no matter, it's your business, and I'm off. —

Turning around, I headed for the trucks with the captured people inside. I didn't know which one of them was my goal, but a soldier standing next to the transport came to my aid.

—This way for you," he called me briefly, without expressing any emotions.

Unlocking the door, he stepped aside, letting me come over and take a look. Well, I did it.

Skidmark was unconscious, handcuffed and surrounded by several soldiers. His once relatively clean clothes were now rumpled, soiled and torn in various places. The drool flowing from his mouth only made it worse, completely destroying the important appearance of this man and forcing me to consider him a drug addict by his appearance alone, which he was.

I activated my force vision and peered into the cape's power.

So, uh-huh. Here we have a cool mix of gravity with my favorite inertia. Yes, and the external work of the aura was different from everything I saw. Parts of it are easily able to separate from the user and move without his active control.

Well, as soon as an object gets to the border of this aura, it will be momentarily exposed to the gravitational part, almost zeroing out the body mass, and the second part will give the body an impulse according to the settings of a specific auric region.

The most interesting thing here, in my opinion, was that different auras are able to layer on top of each other without any consequences, only enhancing the effect of each other.

Fun... and useful.

I turned off the power and took a couple of steps back from the car. The soldiers sitting inside immediately slammed the door, and the guard locked it.

— Listen, Mr. Soldier, have you seen a kid here? This," I raised my hand to a certain height, "meter sixty—nine, responds to the name of Sharpening. I want to exchange a few words at the last. —

But the result turned out to be far from what I wanted, although it was the one I secretly expected.

— I can't know. Please step away from the car. —

— Well, go to hell, — I walked away from him and looked around.

…
…

Even from drones, you can't see anything. And there are no more cars like this one. Well, apparently not fate, I just wanted to chat a little anyway. Maybe I'll meet him another time.

Well, my work here is probably over. It's time to go home, the neural network is waiting for me there. I briefly said goodbye to Armmaster, nodded to Squealer, who only glanced at me briefly and returned to the conversation, expressively trying to prove something to Armmaster, and left the stage.

***
In Pertinax's workshop, some time later.

— Fuck, really? — I didn't hold back swearing after checking the computer.

— Because of some bug, all the work is for nothing! — sigh. — Apparently, I will have to personally control everything this time. Well, what a fucking fun pastime. –

 

[aleksejstepanov560]

A little while later.

Workshop of Pertinax.

- So, alternately raise the first, third, fifth and seventh leg fifteen degrees. —

I give the task to Aida, who is now beginning to comprehend the basics of body control, and lean back into the chair, making it crack under my weight.

The nasty creaking sound makes me wince and triggers the reaction of the Technic forces, which, having combined their efforts, instantly begin to calculate the structure of a new chair that can simultaneously support my weight and give a massage and drive to a nearby store.

Even with Techie power alone, the Tinker Fugue was distracting, and when five combined forces are eating my brains out at once, it takes a lot of willpower not to break into the next project. I really don't have enough time for more important things, but here it is.

But now you can't turn them off. My nascent artificial intelligence, which I named Aida, has recently grown to understand verbal commands and even, at the very least, began to use real devices that I gave access to. I even learned to speak! Only in short phrases, however, and sometimes it loses some of its meaning, but after all, this is still a child, after all. I'm still proud of them.

In general, then I thought that it would be useful for Aida to have a real body, and proceeded to design. It was about two days ago.

I started with the design of an animal-like body - a puppy there or a kitten, nothing like that. Moreover, the Skrip specialization helped a lot with the creation of limbs for movement. Without it, everything would have been sooo long, or I would have to create a body without them. It would turn out to be another drone, which, you know, is not interesting at all.

True, in the end I lowered the bar anyway - it was too dreary to do all this, and it would have taken many times longer than in the current project. The body itself is not so difficult to create, although in some places one would have to think, but the same paws ... If I go to get something of normal quality - outwardly looking plus or minus like my real prototypes and harmoniously working with the rest of the body - I would have to do everything put in a whole lot of effort.

In fact, I would have to deal with the possibility of creating proprioception from scratch in a body that has no idea what it is. Even creating synthetic flesh for this purpose did not help me achieve the desired result.

How was it with my prosthesis? I connected the control system to the signal converter, and my brain began to work with already familiar nerve impulses. Here, everything was new for the consciousness, which means that it is impossible to get by with such a thing.

So for the next body, I chose something simpler - an arachnid, light body with a lot of legs. For training - the most, I think.

This very set of legs will keep the body in a stable state even if Aida cannot cope with a couple of legs and makes a mistake. The legs themselves will come out, although a little fragile, but they will be much easier in terms of creation than in the first version. So if something breaks, I can easily fit a replacement in the shortest possible time.

A lightweight body with a minimum of excess also contributes to this. At first, I decided to get by with just "sense organs." So a couple of cameras became eyes, a simple acoustic sensor allowed Aida to hear her surroundings, and an electronic nose to smell it.

Initially, somehow I did not intend to create it, but this was the moment when the Tinker Fugue turned out to be stronger than me. Well, the result of this "inspiration" was a sensor capable of converting the intermolecular interaction of particles into an electrical signal. In just a couple of hours, I managed to figure out what composites and semiconductors I need and even created a prototype that is quite capable of working. Well, to work in the sense that he can do what I brought him together for, but Aida will have to deal with the analysis of this data.

But overall, the experience was interesting. The flow state I went into was very different from any similar experience I had had before. There was something… soothing about it. It was as if an invisible spring inside of me finally unraveled and allowed me to exist without problems.

I think that this state of affairs can be tolerated from time to time. My mental health should definitely thank me.

The slight sound of the movement of mechanisms attracts my attention, distracting me from extraneous thoughts.

The little spider on my desk seems to start dancing, moving its little paws. The body swaying from side to side completes this picture. His beady eyes are constantly watching me, wanting to find confirmation that he is doing everything right.

That's just ... buzzing should not be. Apparently, it was still necessary to follow the original draft, and not make random edits, as I did.

Anyway. If everything worked out as I wanted, then the body would become a little stronger and more resistant to damage. But no, it's not.

"That's it, you can stop," after my words, Aida stops moving and only looks in my direction.

— Yes, okay. I'm going to print some details now, and then we'll try to walk. For now, for you ... - I connect to the computer and send several videos with the movement of various spiders to Aida, - ... a few examples. Study them for now, and then you will already do it yourself. All clear? —

A short "Yes" in a childish voice (forgive me, could not resist) comes to me from the speaker. I get up from my chair and head to the assembly area.

As I walk around the room, I can't help but notice the fact that I definitely need to do some cleaning. Too much rubbish I brought here. Even in my fenced-in living area, you can find all sorts of nuts and bolts lying on a shelf next to the bed.

I need to clean up, of course, but, damn it ... I'm too lazy, and I don't have time for this anyway. Here Aida will grow up, and then it will be possible to arrange a general cleaning. The same bed needs to be remade with a new one or even thrown out and replaced with something else - I practically don't sleep anymore. So, I'll take a nap a couple of hours a week, and that's enough.

This heap of garbage that has not been completely transferred must finally be sorted out. What I can't use, I'll throw it out, and the rest will be recycled.

It's a mess, in general.

I move to the next room, which is my main workshop. If the first room is the main one and everything most important is installed there, such as computers and a time accelerator, then I transferred the entire production part to this one. There is a converter, and both 3D printers, and an assembly table along with my entire metallurgical complex. The latter takes up almost a quarter of the entire space of the room and cannot be moved, so it was logical to focus production around it.

Several cabinets against a free wall contain various materials in the right condition for printers. Most often this is a powder state, but at least two substances can only be stored in a liquid state. Technic substances have such quirks, what can I say?

I take everything I need from the shelves and head to the printers. The new, large, updated printer, rid of the errors of the previous version, is now busy, slowly creating many parts and parts that will go to the base parts, from which I assemble my devices like from a Lego constructor

I walk past it and head over to the smaller, old printer that had been idle until then, and then I begin my manipulations.

Due to the fact that my brain is almost directly connected to the implant, I am able to control my devices with almost the power of my mind, which for me is quite good at reducing the possibility of making a mistake or inaccuracy.

So, if problems appear with an increase of one and a half percent, but you need to take less. So, right now, I'll recalculate with amendments.

…

…

Yeah, 1.43 is enough. Well, it remains to reprint the detail.

I load the material and new parameters into the device and start waiting. Hmm, can PLO check? Chet hasn't been there in a long time. It will be possible to read what they write about my last sortie. Out there, how long has it been? Fourteen hours, right? Well, they should write something about it, right?

***

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♦ Theme: Shooting in the slums

In: Sections►Brockton Bay►Events

Veston(Original poster) (Theme starter)

Posted June 24, 2009:

Urgently! Does anyone even know what's going on in the Merchants' territory? About ten minutes ago I heard a powerful firefight, but I didn't know who I didn't ask. But the junkie has already seen a couple not far from home, it seems they are running away from someone.

UPD. Police vans sped by. Have you started working? I haven't seen them here for a long time.

(Showing page 1 of 4)

►Davis109

Posted June 24, 2009:

They were covered. Almost all at once.

My father works in the police and said that right now they are all on their ears there, ready to go.

Some cape attacked their base, like the place where they lived and dispersed the whole gang.

It seems that he even tied all their capes. At least that's what my dad heard about.

UPD.

Now everything is calmer, most of the weapons were thrown on the spot, so there is no reason to panic. In addition, most of them managed to be detained in hot pursuit, only a few slipped out of the cordon and lay down on the bottom.

►BigBoy777

Posted June 24, 2009:

Come on, a single cape showed up and killed one of the city's big gangs? garbage infa

►Davis109

Posted June 24, 2009:

Dude, 100% info, I swear. Capes aren't all the same either. This one is definitely not weak...

►SmittyJc

Posted June 24, 2009:

Do you know who attacked?

►Davis109

Posted June 24, 2009:

Pertinax. His name is Pertinax, appeared relatively recently, as I understand it. He was also noted in the battle with Lung.

►Black_Star

Posted June 24, 2009:

Yeah, I heard! Although he seems to have easily finished off Lung, he was already barely on his feet after one of these Asian showdowns of theirs. But now, of course, he gave ... Minus one grouping in this swamp.

►ElisElit

Posted June 24, 2009:

Yes, well, right? Now it will not be so dumb to walk past their districts, finally!

►Dasty

Posted June 24, 2009:

I would not be in a hurry to rejoice, a holy place is never empty (even if it is a slum)

►ElisElit

Posted June 24, 2009:

Well, how do you know, maybe they will be afraid ... This Petrinax seems to be cool)

►Dasty

Posted June 24, 2009:

Yes, nothing is clear with him yet ... He appeared a couple of times, smashed the villains, disappeared again ... Maybe he is generally interested in the territory? We will have a new gang to replace the Merchants...

End of page. 1, 2, 3, 4

(Showing page 2 of 4)

►Black_Star

Posted June 24, 2009:

Only this was not enough ... Although, who knows, maybe he is handsome and will be a noble bandit like Robin Hood?

►Dasty

Posted June 24, 2009:

Well, yes, once handsome, so immediately noble ...

The logic is overwhelming.

But I still wonder who he is

►Bagrat (Veteran) (Guy in the know)

Posted June 25, 2009:

Your ignorance is over, for I have come.

I learned that the battle was between a new techie named Pertinax (link to his discussion *here*) and part of a gang of Merchants.

Why a part? Well, a mile away from the main base, an additional one was discovered, which is a drug warehouse.

It is known that Pertinax first appeared there, incapacitated all the usual members of the gang, defeated Handcuff (a sadist without Manton's restriction) and somehow recruited Shiv (you remember, that guy with fire knives) and already he brought Pertinax to the main base.

Warning comments - no, he doesn't have Sovereign abilities. Apparently, not everyone was happy with life under Skidmark, and there was planned its own civil war.

►Mane Magenta

Posted June 25, 2009:

Ha! Even merchants don't like merchants!

In general, why hasn't the UPC done anything until now, if only one person was enough to destroy the gang?

I think that's the right question to ask Principal Piggot the next time she comes out at a conference to brag about her accomplishments.

►SmittyJc

Posted June 25, 2009:

Well, yes, well, yes, they will answer you that way ... Again, they will broadcast something about caution, about the fact that every cape counts for us, about the unpredictability of gangs and rampant crime ...

►Davis109

Posted June 25, 2009:

He will answer a direct question exactly where he will go ... But no, maybe they will at least think about what is happening in our city and how to deal with it. Father says that if they were properly coordinated and allowed to operate, there would be three times less gangs in the city.

►SmittyJc

Posted June 25, 2009:

No, it's empty

They nod their heads with a mournful look and again return to their previous activities - eat up taxpayers' money

►Mane Magenta

Posted June 25, 2009:

Well, stop aggroing, people ... We are discussing the defeat of the Merchants with a brand new hero, and not the work of the authorities

►SmittyJc

Posted June 25, 2009:

So you just started!

►Mane Magenta

Posted June 26, 2009:

She finished herself.

Is there anything going on there at the moment?

Or have all the runaways been caught?

End of page. 1, 2, 3, 4

***

Well, everything is clear, some chatter has already gone on, only partially relating to the initial topic. Something about a world government conspiracy and experiments on Brockton Bay.

And now the printer has finished its work - the red light on it lights up, signaling the end of printing and thus letting me know that the rest time is over.

I collect the received parts, after which, after making sure that there is no defect in them, I head back to the central room.

Along the way, my eyes wander from one device to another, the forces show the problems and methods of improvement, and I think about the fact that immediately after finishing the body of Aida, I need to work with a temporary accelerator.

I have a feeling that even the ratio of 1:5 is not enough for me.

I spent a whole day and a half on improving my tools and creating an assembly table for robotel. My inventions are becoming too precise and demanding of the utmost precision, and the old tools are lagging behind my needs.

But even if I understand intellectually that it's only been a little over half a day outside and that I'm already super fast compared to any other techies, there is such a painful feeling in my chest ... Similar to what you feel when you walk on a narrow road and speed the walk is too short for you, and the person in front of you is barely trudging and is not even going to accelerate. He weaves, weaves, not allowing either to get around or to speed up his step ... And now I feel a semblance of anger at such a person.

Again, I think, the tricks of power ... Maybe make sure? No, I'll climb right now, but she will inject me with hormones again, I'll be an apathetic sack of potatoes. Nafig it is necessary, I still have a bunch of things to do.

- Well, how are you here? Did you analyze those videos? I ask Aida when I return to the room.

I see, while I was walking away, she still tried to walk, and she even succeeded. Yes, it's just a couple of steps, but what! Small steps for her body, big progress for herself.

Now the spider is trying to get up from the surface of the table on which he fell, having made a mistake. Thin legs move ridiculously in the air, unable to cling to anything and turn the body into a normal position. This sight evokes a strange feeling of warmth...

"Oh, you, kulema," I sigh, pushing my creation so that it can find a foothold and rise to its feet on its own.

The process is slow, so I can go about my business. For example, start planning your vehicle.

I think for now it is possible to create a motorcycle, and later switch to something more - an armored truck, for example. Here it should definitely become the pinnacle of my techie art at the moment. Still, in the end, I'm going to leave the city, and it will be my mobile base.

Moreover, after studying the power of Sharpening, I made a breakthrough in the field of matter transfer between my Pocket Space and the ordinary world, and I'm already thinking about creating both a transmitter, to which the exit point will be tuned, and a teleportation platform. The transmitter itself will allow me to ensure that the exit point is not rigidly fixed in space, and will give me an additional strategic advantage.

I sit down at my workbench, covered in a heap of mechanical parts and tools. I have been thinking about the idea of building a motorcycle for some time and I think I am finally ready to start drawing up some concrete plans.

I open up a program on my computer and start sketching out the basic design of the bike. I want it to be sleek and fast, with a modular design that makes it easy to upgrade and modify it later.

I'm starting to brainstorm some of the key features I want to include: a miniaturized, high-efficiency engine, a modular frame that can be customized for different situations, and a state-of-the-art navigation system that can navigate the most efficient routes around town.

As I write down my ideas, I begin to visualize how the various components of the bike fit together. I can almost see the frame taking shape, each piece falling neatly into place like a puzzle. I can almost hear the hum of the engine as it roars to life, fueled by my latest techies.

But before any of that happens, I need to start experimenting with the different parts and components that will make up the bike. I rummage through my parts box, pulling out a few motors, servos, and circuit boards. Each has been carefully designed to fit into one of my modular base units, allowing me to mix and match different components until I find the perfect match.

When I start fiddling with details, I almost lose myself in the process.

The sound of something falling brings me out of this state for a moment. This turns out to be the bolt that Aida started playing with after getting back on her feet. Having no clear commands, she decided to find something to do on her own and began to run around the table, periodically stopping and watching my work. Now she stands on the edge of the table and looks down, unable to return her toy.

With a short smile, I lift the piece of iron back, after which I remember that I never installed those parts into her body.

So I have to take a break from the current task and finish this work. Quickly changing the module in the prosthesis, I begin the operation. A lot of manipulators, armed with screwdrivers, welding machines and other things that I need for engineering, crawl out and begin the operation to open the mechanical body.

Just ten minutes and you're done. The unnecessary has been removed, the necessary has been put in its place. The opened case is soldered back, and the spider body is ready to work again.

"Come on, move your paws," I command, listening carefully for evidence of possible defects. But this time everything is fine - I do not find any problems. Okay, the lesson about not deviating from the drawing is learned - it will only bring more work.

Having lowered Aida to the floor and given her new information for processing, I again turn to the design of the motorcycle.

Hours pass as I test different configurations and fine-tune the design, refining each component until it works at peak efficiency. I take copious notes along the way, jotting down each new breakthrough or discovery so I can come back to it later.

By the time I'm done I have a set of blueprints that detail every aspect of the bike. I can't wait to start building the real thing, and I know the modular design will make this process pretty quick.

It's time to collect this stallion

***

- Happened! I exclaim breathlessly. Hell yeah, it only took half a day to figure it out.

— Aida! - I call my creation, which was now playing in the next room with technical blocks, imitating my actions during the assembly of the bike.

"Come here, dear. I need to see something. —

- Yes, dad - she quits her job and runs in my direction, already quite confidently moving her legs.

And don't call me dad. Stand here in the center of the device - I'm not quite sure how I feel when they call me "dad". It seems to be true, technically, but I'm still not ready somehow for this.

- What should I call you? You created me, so you are my father. Despite the bickering, Aida resignedly enters the center of the device.

The device itself is an invisibility generator, created by me after studying a similar device from Squealer.

Miniature crystals located in a circle, after applying voltage to them, begin to work, generating an invisibility effect in the hemisphere above the device.

Compared to Squealer's design, my design is more stable, resistant to voltage fluctuations, and will not collapse without maintenance.

Of the minuses - well, here you can say much more. All of it is still quite difficult to assemble, requires a large amount of energy, operates only in a limited space, and the device does not hide itself. A bunch of problems, in general. However, this is again a prototype. The main reason I worked on this is to understand the technology, right?

Although if you think about it, I have a lot of prototypes. Have I actually brought anything to a result that suits me? Okay, enough empty thoughts, the work does not wait.

- Don't know. Try to think of something else. And this, jump there, twitch. I will measure how it works with sharp movements. Oh, and you can stick your paws out of the effect too. —

I issue commands while setting up various scanners.

- Okay... Daddy -

I groaned - Oh gods, you learned how to use sarcasm. What kind of monster did I create?

Where did you even learn this? —

"On the Internet," came the casual reply with a chuckle.

- Well, yes, as expected - I pursed my lips in discontent - in this cesspool of trolls and pranksters - damn it, I didn't follow it once and here are the consequences. Look what they did to my innocent girl.

- Don't be mad, dad. But I learned to speak well - Aida's paws appeared in space and seemed to hang in the air, slowly moving and hiding or showing more and more as they moved.

- Seriously?! - I move away from the device, inside of which this petty villain is sitting, after which I point accusingly at him with my index finger - you call me dad, and you learn life from others! Why shouldn't I be angry? Oh, shame on my entire family. Here, hold the sensor. —

After a couple of seconds of exposure to one of the energies I recently discovered, I ask a question.

– How much does it show on the screen? —

- Zero! She definitely enjoys playing jokes on me. Look how much joy in the voice.

- Yeah, right now, I believe it. Now tell me the real data. —

- Zero!

Didn't understand. It that, and it too can redirect? C'mon, it's supposed to be free.

- Well, save the data and give it here! —

I take the sensor, and indeed! Not a single particle of this radiation was registered by him. This is what it is... Hmm... I think I know how to get the device to hide itself.

"Okay, I accused you of lying for nothing. And why were you so funny then? —

I love working with you and helping you! This is interesting! —

Sigh. Okay, I guess I'll have to go play with her anyway. Well, how can you offend such a cheerful child. Yes, and it will not be completely useless. She doesn't play ordinary cubes, but collects something from my technological blocks.

***

Whistling a song that only I could hear under my breath, I fiddled with another project of mine. A shield with a generator of protective fields - that's what my idea is. The shield itself served more as a transmitter, a sort of point in space that the computer would orient itself to, although it was strengthened with several alloys, due to which the overall proportion of kinetite (yes, I finally gave it a name) was reduced.

So far, I haven't had many examples of force fields to study, so for now I've limited myself to two - electromagnetic, which would cover the surface of the shield itself, and plasma, which would be at a distance. Of course, at first you can't say that this option is suitable for protecting against something, but if an enemy attack simply evaporates under the influence of a huge temperature, then it won't hit you, right?

I immediately discarded the initial idea to create a plasma generator inside the shield itself - firstly, the small available volume would significantly reduce its efficiency and the amount of plasma produced.

And secondly, if the shield is damaged and the fuses fail, the resulting explosion will not even leave bones from me. What is there from me - everything in the zone of hundreds of meters will be subjected to the consequences of the explosion.

So rightly rejecting such options, I assembled and installed the plasma generator in the workshop, away from any sources of damage.

Further, it was already easier - a module for manipulating magnetic fields was installed in the shield, which will give this field a flat shield shape, into which the plasma will be transferred in the future. My work on moving matter from subspace came in handy here, and studying the power of sharpening helped. I'm going to actually use his power, although I will change the shape of the projection.

But do not think that everything was already prepared for me. No, on the contrary, everything is just beginning. At a minimum, the temperature of my plasma is several times higher than that of Sharpening. This prevents me from simply copying its structure exactly and using it as an example. If I increase the magnetic field so that it does not collapse from a higher temperature, then the delicate balance between it and the electromagnetic field will collapse, which should redirect the generated heat back towards the plasma, thus protecting everything around from destruction.

Yes, and after that I will need to wrap the resulting fields with another magnetic one, but with a different frequency. It will have to reduce the emitted light and not allow it to simply blind all witnesses or participants in the battle.

But this is not the end either. I'll need to generate ANOTHER force field, this time capable of containing the sound. I'm not entirely sure how much it will increase compared to the original, but there should be noise. And the higher the temperature, the more this noise will be.

Somehow, with such confusion, thoughts appear in my head that becoming a villain is a pretty cool topic. There, at least I don't have to think so much about the destruction.

The loud sound of impact and the subsequent rumble of crumbling objects made me jump from the workplace, looking into the passage into the next room.

Your maaat- flashed through my head a moment later, when I realized what happened there. Do not let Sion open the containers, it will mix everything there.

- Aida - my scream echoed through the workshop, creating a small echo - what the hell are you doing here? —

Crushed by the objects and the drone that bounced right at him, the spider looked rather pathetic. Thin paws were broken or bent; the case almost turned into a crumpled jar, and only the sensors survived the blow - well, I just took them from drones, and there they have a pretty good design.

Sternly looking directly into the eyes of the little body unable to answer due to the breakdown of the speech synthesizer, I open the assembly block in the prosthesis, and, after seconds of manipulation, cut off the control of the body, which is already working for the last seconds.

The culprit of the incident is forced to return her consciousness back to the computer. And now, cut off from interaction with the world, with no way to block the microphone or camera, she is left alone with me and the inevitable lectures.

"So," I began in a parental tone, "and what were you doing here while I was working?" What did I tell you to do? —

— Train in multitasking — bashfully she muttered to me almost at the lowest volume.

"That's right," I nod without taking my stern gaze off the camera, "but what were you doing?" —

"I… that was training!" - Finding an argument suitable in her opinion, Aida clung to it and continued to speak - I trained to control both my body and your drone at the same time. You gave me access to them! So he didn't mind. I just… well, lost control. —

My sigh was heard in the silence. I even felt some hints of a headache, although I could not feel pain in principle.

– Aida… Let's be honest – you got bored with training and decided to find some fun, didn't you? So you took one of the drones - which, mind you, I did not give you access to, you just work on the same computer through which they are controlled - and decided to play with it, right? —

– Yes… – I could hear from the emotions in my voice that it was difficult for an electronic child to admit his mistakes – it was difficult, so I couldn't stand it! How am I even supposed to manage multiple things?! There are many of your manipulators, but I am alone! This is impossible! —

"But you were able to handle the drone. Here, after all, there were also only two things to control - your body and the drone, but they should be much more difficult to manage. I couldn't help noticing

- It's different! There it was ... somehow simpler. Well, at first I fell constantly from him, and then it turned out somehow ... by itself ... I don't know ... -

Another breath, softer this time.

"Aida, look at me carefully. First of all, I'm not going to swear at you. Of the breakdowns, only the shelves and your body, which I immediately made easy to repair or replace.

Secondly… mmm… Let's be honest. I created you in order for me to have an assistant who will be able to manage my numerous devices in the future instead of me. And so far you have not reached this level. But! - I interrupted her attempt to say something - I understand that you need time to learn, so I'm not going to demand much from you right now. —

Seconds of tension - and now a new passage appears in the wall. This time the room is quite low - only four meters, but rather elongated in length.

The camera turns in that direction after me, and Aida, not understanding what I'm getting at, carefully examines the room through her.

"Despite the fact that I created you, I really don't understand how you work now. My contribution, for the most part, is the very first program to create other programs, and a few bug fixes later on. So I DO NOT understand why it is easier for you to work with moving objects, and not with something simple and stationary. Maybe you just learned how to use manipulators, and in the future it was already easier, that's not the point. I'm dedicating this room entirely to you as a firing range. Now it's empty, but it'll be easier for you.

I'll put a few more robust drones under your control as soon as I've removed the weapons from them, and you can train there as much as you like, away from all my complex and critically damaged equipment. I will also move all your other toys there as soon as I reassemble your body.

After that, I'm going to get back to work and I VERY hope that this time you will still be busy training and not playing around such dangerous things as a nuclear reactor and a damn time machine. All clear? —

- Yes. Thanks dad. I could almost see the relief in her voice. Here's something, and her communicative part is very well developed - I promise that I will never violate what you told me again. —

I shook my head - No, I'm not against your independence, but the next time something like this comes to mind, you better warn me in advance, okay? So, that's it, stop talking, sit down, study something from what I downloaded for you. I'll go pick you up. Until the meeting, only a couple of days left of mine, and here I am, damn it, what I have to mess with. I mumbled the last words under my breath as I carefully removed body parts from one of the dropped containers.

And I need to clean up...

***

Finally, the process of calibrating the generators is over. The first stopped interfering with the work of the second, the third stopped interfering with both of them, and the fourth ... well, he didn't conflict with the rest anyway.

In general, everything was fine in this part, but in the process of work, I realized that I almost missed one most important detail.

How will I cool the plasma?

Like, it's heated to thousands of degrees, you can't do it just by waiting, like with some kind of teapot.

In general, this was the problem that I also needed to work on.

Without thinking twice, I decided to use all the same methods that I used to limit the plasma. After all, the method does not really change much, it will just happen ... more intensively

As such, the concept of using an electromagnetic field to cool a plasma is based on the fact that an electromagnetic field can act on particles in a plasma and change their trajectories. In this case, the particles themselves begin to move along a spiral trajectory around the lines of the magnetic field, and when these lines cross, the energy of the particles is transferred to the field itself, which leads to heat losses. This will allow me to quickly cool the plasma, reducing its temperature to the values \u200b\u200bthat I need.

But I have not only electromagnetic fields. I can quite combine the knowledge of electromagnetism, the control of kinetic energy and sound waves, to get the best result. For example, sound waves can be used to change the shape of a plasma cloud and lower its temperature even faster.

In addition, particle kinetics can be used to control the direction in which plasma particles move, slowing them down along the way.

In general, there were methods, and I even managed to deal with the problem on the same devices that, in some way, caused this problem. All that was required was for some modules to change places and start working in the opposite direction. I think I'm beginning to understand the essence of this specialization.

Okay, I've finished checking-rechecking, you can start testing. There are some things I can't use inside the workshop, so I have to get out. And specifically, things with technologies based on the effect of teleportation from the power of the Circus. To move matter within one world, I need to invent something else, but for now I can do without.

I get up from the assembly table and start stretching. Maybe I need to take a few more breaks. Every time the body becomes numb during work, as far as I absorb it.

After doing a few short stretches, I take a look at the brand new plasma generator and the storage attached to it.

Designed for temperatures up to three and a half thousand degrees, the storage was a three-meter flask, at the base of which a generator was built.

The walls of the flask consist of a metamaterial based on silicate ceramics, improved by me for greater heat capacity and limiting the radiation of electromagnetic waves. The new printer, capable of delivering high pressure with temperature, with a single method of wall printing, improved them. And this is not to mention the fact that the structure of the substance itself has been improved by optimizing the structure and changing the porosity of the substance.

So now it not only looks nice, but it should also withstand the temperature for a while in case the holding fields fail. And duplicate fields. And cooling fields. It will not be superfluous, in general.

Red-orange streams of plasma swirl inside the vault, mixing and layering each other in a chaotic dance. Lightning bolts intermittently interrupt this dance, creating bright flashes of light and sound effects that should be reminiscent of thunder being drowned out by my technology. Despite this, the movement of the plasma seems smooth and endless, like ocean waves running ashore. Inside this reservoir, time seems to slow down and space is distorted, creating the illusion of infinity.

Brrrrrr

I wave my head - Damn, stuck again -

Breaking away from the addictive spectacle, I continue to move.

- Well, how are you here? - over the past ... uh, half a day (?) Aida definitely managed to achieve success. Right now, her three manipulators on trolleys were carrying metal pipes and metal plates to one of the corners of the room and assembling some kind of structure out of them. Aida herself proudly sat on the drone, watching the process from above.

She turns to the sound and begins to actively gesticulate with her paws - Dad! Are you done?! Did you succeed!? I was able to raise what to do! Now I can use as many as five devices at once! And even the sixth ... but sometimes I still get confused there. But I will soon learn how to manage it! Am I great? -

- Of course, you're great. Will you come with me to the test? - a joyful nod - Well, come here, sit on your shoulder, here are the attachments for you added. Take a couple of drones with you and connect to the main computer. And you don't have to moan like that - now you won't just be locked up there, you have bodies.

***

The damp morning wind blew in my face, throwing the nasty smell of the bay into my face and ... ugh, a newspaper.

What do we write here? Okay, last month. Not even some sign from the universe.

And there is nothing interesting in the area. Slums are like slums, except that they are close to the coast.

Boring place, but Aida likes it. She had never seen the world beyond Karman. So now it rushes around the district, examines and ... sniffs everything? Oh yes, the electronic nose. Well, if she likes it that way...

I threw a piece of paper aside, I begin to command.

- Aida! I'll give you a full walk later, but for now we've come here to work. Send out the drones and make sure no one is roaming around. I don't give up on murder charges if something goes wrong or some idiot walks into the work area. -

Receiving a nod, I focus my attention on something more important than random vagrants.

My plasma shield.

Technically, it's not really a shield, more like a teleportation device along with a bunch of bounding fields, but who cares if I can create whole plasma walls with it?

In theory, it should already be completely ready for work in the field, but it's still worth checking. And how stable the design will be when bringing the temperature to the maximum possible in storage, I still need to check.

Quickly clearing a suitable area of everything that might interfere with me, I set the mechanism on a stand and move behind one of the concrete walls. From more than two thousand degrees, in which case, it will not save me, but maybe at least give a couple of moments.

Drones with a bunch of scanners hovered on the sides waiting for the action to begin, Aida clung to my armor, I tensed for a moment - we were ready for failure and the fact that everything would go wrong.

- Light it up! - a short command, as it were, put an end to all my efforts. That's it, it's too late to change something further, it will either work as it should, or I will burn everything in the district with a flame of thousands of degrees, and then I will get hit on the head by the Protectorate. The risk was calculated, and I, please note, is not bad at mathematics.

Although, even in case of failure, I remain in the black. This project was the most challenging project I've ever done as a techie. I got good experience in setting up and calibrating modules, knowledge of working with various magnetic and electromagnetic fields, figured out how to move something from Karman to the real world without the use of force; received a lot of new parts, created for various discarded ideas, but which can be useful in something else, as well as updated tools and machines.

Oh, and plasma grenades, don't forget about them. These crumbs will serve me even if the shield does not work.

Be that as it may, the command was given, and ...

... it worked.

A brief moment of hesitation gives way to elation as the generators begin to work. After two seconds of power up, a micro-portal from the vault opens right in the middle of various fields, and a violent stream of plasma is ejected from there under great pressure.

Everything in the area is illuminated with a slightly reddish light, and I only briefly note that I still need to work with the filter - the glow is too bright.
My attention is now occupied by information from scanners.


– Losses? -
- Three percent! -
- Super. Look out for stability. -

And now, five seconds have passed, ten, twenty - the fields are working stably, the plasma flow is even and uniform.

– Energy costs? -
– Reached 63 percent! -

Soon it will be necessary to assemble a new reactor at such a pace.

– Transferred data on emissions –
- Already! -

So, electromagnetic radiation slightly exceeds the norm, we will fix it. Heat dissipation is bullshit.

Well, it works! And it works well!

I come out of my hiding place and approach the red-hot ball hanging in the air.

You can't even compare it with the storage in the workshop. The magnetic lock used there is quite simple, and needs a bunch of magnetic coils nearby, although, I admit, it eats less energy. Here I do not need any physical basis, no metamaterials are between me and this hot gas.

Fabulous.

- So, Aida, change the shape from a sphere to a cube. Let's see how it will look like this. -

- And I ... I don't know how - the little spider gave up on my shoulder.

What?...

"Wait, you mean you can't?" You are working on the same computer as the field program! -

Well, I've never tried doing something like that. You only told me to worry about multitasking. I can try, but ... well, it will just be random actions, I can break everything! -
…
…
…
fuck

This sounds logical. It is not clear why I decided that she would be able to work without training. She was far from being able to use the same manipulators right away. Not to mention drones.

Sigh.

- Okay, sit here. I'm going to reset everything myself. And after that we will take care of your training. -

Joyful squeak - Good! -


Having personally changed the parameters of the fields, I return back to the plasma cube. Despite the change in shape, the stability of both the fields and the plasma has been completely preserved. It will be necessary to play with more ... interesting forms, but I believe that everything will be stable here.

- Aida, how is the ratio of creation / costs? How much longer can it work? -

- If you take into account the current flow rate, then no more than twenty minutes! -

Clear. So, it's time to try how well the plasma shield will perform exactly as a shield.

Another quick jump to the Workshop and back, and now the fields have already taken the form of a flat plate. The density of the plasma, in this case, should increase, which is certainly good for me.

Visibility only through it to hell.
Flaw. Maybe it would be better to make it stationary at all? That makes more sense.

Yes, Aida. Send drones to the other side, keep an eye on everything that flies out. -

Pulling out my rifle, I fire a dozen shots in different modes and draw disappointing conclusions - everything went right through. Yes, in the form of molten drops in most cases, but it passed after all.

And I haven't used a large caliber yet.

Tex... hmm...

OK.

I think you need to try again and go to the maximum.

- So, Aida, get ready to measure right now. I will bring the temperature to a critical point, you need to find out what's there and how. -

- Understood! I will measure everything! -

At that moment, when the temperature approaches the maximum possible, the shields begin to strain.

– Aida, losses?! -
- Twelve and a half! -

Damn, a lot

- What about energy? -
- Eighty-one percent busy! -

Yep, definitely need another one.

- What according to the radiation ... accepted -

So, heat losses increased eight times, electromagnetic losses by thirty percent, UV ... also began to pass. Well crap in general. It is not designed for this temperature.

- What's the time there? -

- Well ... there are about twelve minutes somewhere! But already after eight the fields will already begin to collapse! -

What, just eight minutes?

– So, we urgently conduct the last tests and wrap up. As long as I have enough. I will be wiser after the meeting -

Having quickly fired a dozen more bullets, I conclude that although such a shield is capable of vaporizing shells right in flight, but ... it's all somehow ineffective. Here, as a stationary barrier or for an attack, it should work well. Few people want to get into something like this, after all.

The cooling system, thank Sion, worked as it should. Within a minute, the temperature inside the fields dropped to a level that was acceptable for not destroying anything in the area, so I ended today's experiments with a clear conscience.

Back at the Workshop, I begin teaching Aida how to control my devices. At least at a basic level, but you need to show her what works and how.

But first of all, of course, I made sure that I was fully prepared for the upcoming meeting. I said that I would come, and I do not intend to break my word.

 

[aleksejstepanov560]

as always, mistakes and loss of meaning in translation

 

[00loner]

Just a week and a half after his alleged trigger, Pertinax did what scientists and Tinkers around the world were trying to do. And, apparently, he has no plans to stop.

Click to shrink...

What exactly did he do ?

 

[Ninja baiano]

What exactly did he do ?

Click to shrink...

Study and understand tinkertech

 

[aleksejstepanov560]

What exactly did he do ?

Click to shrink...

received the original, unchanged technology database

 

[00loner]

received the original, unchanged technology database

Click to shrink...

What ? Where does it say that tinkers receive duplicate , changed / modified technological databases ?

 

[aleksejstepanov560]

What ? Where does it say that tinkers receive duplicate , changed / modified technological databases ?

Click to shrink...

This is just how I perceive Tinker powers. The shards communicates with the main body (which is the information storage) through some kind of connection. This connection is similar to the address bar, so knowing the address of the page and having the right browser (the right power), you can connect to the database. About changing information for Tinkers: these technologies are based on real technological advances that were absorbed by the shards during their wanderings; they were processed and cataloged by shards. Creating separate shards exclusively for broken data would be inefficient and energy-consuming, so most likely, there are elements in the forces of Tinker that "break" the data going to tinker. Pertinax can turn off these elements, actually receiving "pure" information.