Reality Intrudes [Worm/Matrix AU]

[Luminatira]

God dammit Armsy, stop challenging every cape you meet!
armsy: so i challenged this new cape i met to a fight, and they won. so that means they are a villain!
everyone else: what the absolute fuck armsmaster, no, that makes YOU the villain!

 

[SwiftRosenthal]

I think this is the only Matrix/Worm crossover I've ever seen. Pretty good too.

Click to shrink...

I remember a good one-shot, but that was it.

 

[Anti-No]

That opinion gets revised real quick, when he opens his mouth. "You gonna fight me?"

Click to shrink...

I work my neck, popping it one way and then the other. "Already kicked the asses of two masked idiots tonight. Might as well make it three for three."

Click to shrink...

God dammit Armsy, stop challenging every cape you meet!
armsy: so i challenged this new cape i met to a fight, and they won. so that means they are a villain!
everyone else: what the absolute fuck armsmaster, no, that makes YOU the villain!

Click to shrink...

Just out of curiosity: Is this an AU with or without such absolute basics as "helmet cams"? Or did Costa-Brown veto those because they could result in too many improvements to the Protectorate and the PRT procedures and training programs, building up from actually accurate after-action reports that highlighted what actually went wrong, what actually went right... and why?

Because if accurately reported, this very much was a case of "Successfully managed to challenge the new initially-non-hostile-to-the-protectorate cape to a fight."

Accurate reporting, of course, may not happen. If so, let's hope for Armsmasters sake that nobody publishes interesting footage on the net afterwards.

 

[Necrovore]

Just out of curiosity: Is this an AU with or without such absolute basics as "helmet cams"? Or did Costa-Brown veto those because they could result in too many improvements to the Protectorate and the PRT procedures and training programs, building up from actually accurate after-action reports that highlighted what actually went wrong, what actually went right... and why?

Click to shrink...

I think the following:

Going up onto my knees on top of him, I haul off and deliver a strike straight down into the front of his helmet. Not hard enough to shatter his skull and kill him—he hasn't done anything to deserve that—but definitely enough to utterly fuck up any computer-driven analysis software and recording system he might have in there. As an added bonus, it'll kill any HUD he's got running, so if he was cheating with low-light vision, tough. It's back to Mark One Eyeball for Mama Armsmaster's little boy.

Click to shrink...

Means even if there is a helmet cam, nothing useful is being pulled from it in this particular instance.

 

[Anti-No]

Means even if there is a helmet cam, nothing useful is being pulled from it in this particular instance.

Click to shrink...

Probably nothing from after that moment, true. But the important meeting and greeting was actually before. And if every solid state memory chip in that helmet is destroyed, Armsmasters head most probably would be, too. ...well... unless this version of Armsmaster also has a brute rating. Improbable, but possible.

That the data most probably exists, doesn't mean Armsmaster would actually turn in said movie clip, of course.

 

[Necrovore]

Probably nothing from after that moment, true. But the important meeting and greeting was actually before. And if every solid state memory chip in that helmet is destroyed, Armsmasters head most probably would be, too. ...well... unless this version of Armsmaster also has a brute rating. Improbable, but possible.

That the data most probably exists, doesn't mean Armsmaster would actually turn in said movie clip, of course.

Click to shrink...

Well, putting aside the whole physics breaking opponent using a "Tech Breaker Punch" type attack...

This could be an interesting example of over engineering being a bad thing. If he had a basic camera just taking in data from the camera and direct storing it, then a sudden interruption in power would likely be fine and the data recoverable as it would be in a format at low risk of corruption. However, if Armsmaster is using the footage and running various programs to enhance the footage or interpret content in it, basically any post processing before the storage, then for the sake of efficiency the storage format of the data is likely optimized for thing like timestamp indexing and contextual information being integrated into it. The downsides of such formats is the trend towards unrecoverable data loss if the data files are not closed properly, such as with sudden power loss.


From Armsmaster's own comments in the chapter, I expect an extensive redesign of his helmet after this encounter to remove the vulnerabilities this attack has revealed.

 

[Impartial Panic]

Emily Piggot glared at the armored man in front of her.
"So she just took your bike?"

This was the exact conversation Armsmaster wanted to avoid.
"The situation is a bit more complicated than that."

His current trouble was not helped by Assaults laughter.
"Please go back to the part where a 98 pound girl kicked your ass because that's never getting old."

The Directors glare focused on Assault quickly silencing the cape.
"So a little girl went to your bike, removed all the trackers and security systems and just took it?"

"It seemed prudent to focus on securing Lung and Oni Lee."

"Which is about the only reason this isn't a complete fiasco."

 

[Sonifri]

-

Click to shrink...

It's electronic data. This isn't a one or the other kind of situation like a stack of boxes being processed. It's just as easy to stream it directly to a piece of storage media while simultaneously using a second stream of that same data for his UI. Same way you can have a million people watching the same camera stream online.

 

[Ack]

Just out of curiosity: Is this an AU with or without such absolute basics as "helmet cams"? Or did Costa-Brown veto those because they could result in too many improvements to the Protectorate and the PRT procedures and training programs, building up from actually accurate after-action reports that highlighted what actually went wrong, what actually went right... and why?

Because if accurately reported, this very much was a case of "Successfully managed to challenge the new initially-non-hostile-to-the-protectorate cape to a fight."

Accurate reporting, of course, may not happen. If so, let's hope for Armsmasters sake that nobody publishes interesting footage on the net afterwards.

Click to shrink...

Oh, he had a helmet cam.

Past tense very appropriate, there.

I think the following:



Means even if there is a helmet cam, nothing useful is being pulled from it in this particular instance.

Click to shrink...

Exactly correct.

Probably nothing from after that moment, true. But the important meeting and greeting was actually before. And if every solid state memory chip in that helmet is destroyed, Armsmasters head most probably would be, too. ...well... unless this version of Armsmaster also has a brute rating. Improbable, but possible.

That the data most probably exists, doesn't mean Armsmaster would actually turn in said movie clip, of course.

Click to shrink...

Nope. Morrigan leaned into the Matrix and said, "Helmet breaks, head doesn't."

Well, putting aside the whole physics breaking opponent using a "Tech Breaker Punch" type attack...

This could be an interesting example of over engineering being a bad thing. If he had a basic camera just taking in data from the camera and direct storing it, then a sudden interruption in power would likely be fine and the data recoverable as it would be in a format at low risk of corruption. However, if Armsmaster is using the footage and running various programs to enhance the footage or interpret content in it, basically any post processing before the storage, then for the sake of efficiency the storage format of the data is likely optimized for thing like timestamp indexing and contextual information being integrated into it. The downsides of such formats is the trend towards unrecoverable data loss if the data files are not closed properly, such as with sudden power loss.


From Armsmaster's own comments in the chapter, I expect an extensive redesign of his helmet after this encounter to remove the vulnerabilities this attack has revealed.

Click to shrink...

"I've decided to remove the vulnerabilities this has revealed to me."

"Yeah? How?"

"Don't get punched by Morrigan."

Emily Piggot glared at the armored man in front of her.
"So she just took your bike?"

This was the exact conversation Armsmaster wanted to avoid.
"The situation is a bit more complicated than that."

His current trouble was not helped by Assaults laughter.
"Please go back to the part where a 98 pound girl kicked your ass because that's never getting old."

The Directors glare focused on Assault quickly silencing the cape.
"So a little girl went to your bike, removed all the trackers and security systems and just took it?"

"It seemed prudent to focus on securing Lung and Oni Lee."

"Which is about the only reason this isn't a complete fiasco."

Click to shrink...

Assault: "Didn't Oni Lee mention that he and Lung were already disabled by the time of the fight?"

Armsy: <glaring at Assault>

Piggot: <glaring at Armsy>

Assault: <pulling out popcorn>

 

[Blade4]

Just keeps getting better and better. Soon the whole town will be flipping the fuck out.

 

[Ack]

Reality Intrudes

Part Fifteen: Over and Under

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Grue

"Fuck!" yelled Regent over the sound of enormous dog paws hitting asphalt. "It's Armsmaster!"

"I don't think it is!" Brian took another glance over his shoulder. The most distinctive motorcycle in Brockton Bay had made the knee-scraping turn and was now accelerating into the straightaway behind them. "That's his bike, but it's not him!"

Tattletale looked back as well, hanging tightly onto Brutus as he galloped along. "No, it's a girl, a cape!"

"Tinker? Someone made their own ArmsCycle knockoff?" Regent peered back over his shoulder. "They got the engine note right and everything!"

"Not a Tinker, not a knockoff," Tattletale corrected him. "That's Armsmaster's bike, the real one! She just stole it, and now she's joyriding!"

"Not joyriding!" Bitch put her two cents in. "Chasing us! I know what a chase looks like!"

"Wait, what the fuck?" Brian stared at Tattletale, then back over his shoulder at the oncoming motorbike. "She stole Armsmaster's ride? How the hell did she pull that off?"

"Did you want to stop and ask her?" Tattletale snarked. "Whoever that is back there is Trouble with a capital T! Whatever she's involved in is something we need to avoid! Bitch, we need to lose her!"

"Hey, what if some of us wanted her autograph?" protested Regent. Brian was sure he was doing it just to be a dick.

"Then you can get off my dog and fucking walk!" Bitch turned Angelica and aimed her at a nearby alleyway. "Otherwise, shut the fuck up!"

Travelling in single file, they barrelled into the alleyway. Brian guided Judas to fall in behind the others so he could see what happened to motorcycle girl. If she lost interest, all well and good. But capes often did the unexpected; it was what made the hero/villain scene so interesting (and occasionally terrifying).

Knocking over trash cans, scaring the fuck out of the occasional homeless person, leaping over dumpsters and other obstacles, they thundered through the alley. Brian kept his seat through long practice, holding tight to a couple of convenient bone spurs. The motorbike pursued relentlessly; its howling engine amplified by the brick walls on either side.

Fuck it. He began producing his darkness, filling the alley from side to side. Ride through that, smartass. On he rode, keeping Judas up close behind Brutus as they powered on through the narrow trash-filled darkness.

After jumping a fence—ten feet high, chain link, securely padlocked—he looked back, secure in his own mind that the pursuit had been foiled. Instead, he was treated to the sight of the bike going airborne as it somehow used one of the dumpsters as a launch ramp, engine roaring, headlight blazing as it cleared the fence. Twisting in midair, it pulled a near-perfect barrel roll, left tyre-marks on the wall, then bounced off a dumpster before hitting the ground again, having lost no speed along the way.

Inside his helmet, his jaw dropped. How the hell? Nobody can see through my darkness, much less pull off stunts like that blind.

"She's still behind us!" he shouted, trying to get Bitch's attention. "We have to hit the rooftops!"

Vaguely he heard Tattletale repeating what he'd said, but most of his attention was directed behind them, at the crazy girl on the motorcycle. Even with all the obstacles in the way, she was still gaining on them.

Who the hell is this, and how is she doing what she's doing?

<><>​

Morrigan

First things first, this bike is amazing. For all of Armsmaster's flaws (and he's got more than a few) he's got it tuned to a point that it responds to my every command like an extension of my body. The few things it's not actually set up to do, I can make it do anyway, by leaning into the Matrix just a little. It doesn't even take that much effort.

I haven't done a deep-dive into the Undersiders as yet (why would I? They're small fry), which means that the sight-blocking smoke cloud comes as a rude surprise. But it's not as bad as it could be, because hello? Matrix operative here? It's not air that we're breathing, and it's not light that we're seeing by.

Where anyone else would be floundering blindly—I can tell that it blocks everything in the local simulated version of the electromagnetic spectrum, and muffles sound to a fair degree—I've got resources that bluepills just can't access. Being an operative lets me bend the laws of physics pretty damn hard as it is—here, I can just about tie them in knots—but I can also look past the façade of reality if I squint just right, and see the edges of the code. This doesn't give me my own waterfall display, but it does let me figure out what's in front of me before I hit it, and map out my route through the obstacle course they're trying to lose me in.

I pull the three-sixty roll when I come over the fence because I know Skeletor's watching, and it's funny as fuck to troll him like that. The move is also designed to send a message: You can't get away that easily. I figure once the Undersiders realise they can't lose me like this, they'll either change up their escape/evasion tactics, turn and fight, try to parley, or surrender.

Whichever one they choose will give me insight into them. All data is good data, as they say.

A moment later, I'm proven right as they pour out of the alley into a side-street, then the lizard-dog critter in front, with the muscular girl on it, leaps at the building opposite and starts climbing it. I'm actually kind of impressed by this; they don't look like natural climbers, but they're doing it anyway. The others follow along behind, in a move evidently designed to leave me twiddling my thumbs at street level.

Well, their intentions and reality are going to be two different things, if I've got anything to say about it. This whole wall-climbing schtick of theirs might work against Armsmaster and his merry band of spandex-clad do-gooders, but they're up against me now, and I don't play to lose. So, even as they scramble up to the roof of the three-storey building, I assess my options.

By the time they reach the top, I've figured it out. I turn the bike down the street and gun it for about half a block, then do a bootlegger turn that leaves a perfect half-circle of burned rubber on the asphalt. Kicking the throttle open a couple of times, I put a neat square of rubber under the rear tyre, then I open her out.

As the engine noise echoes between the buildings, I swing wide, then pop a wheelie as I angle in toward the building they climbed up. This is going to take all the Matrix bullshittery I can muster, but the looks on their faces are going to be fuckin' epic.

Why yes, I do live for this sort of thing. Why do you ask?

There's a parked car outside the building before the one I need to be on top of; I hit it at just the right angle (converting it from junker to junked) to launch me and the bike into the air. That gets me up just high enough to hit an awning (ripping it out of its mountings in the process, but it's not my awning) and boost the bike even higher. That wouldn't normally be enough, but there's a fire escape that I kind of ricochet the bike off so the wheels hit the vertical wall with six feet to go.

Turns out Armsmaster rebuilt the bike for all-wheel drive, and I'm pushing that to breaking point. Matrix chicanery gives both wheels far more traction than reality wants to allow, but I tell reality to stand over there and stop bothering me. Assisted by the remaining upward momentum, I've got the throttle wide open, engine screaming, the bike clawing its way up the wall.

At the top, just before I would've lost traction, the front wheel tips over the edge, giving it one last burst of oomph. The back wheel digs in and shoves me up the rest of the way, then, as it comes over the edge of the parapet, the bike pulls a complete backflip. I ease off on the throttle and guide the bike down to a two-point landing. The suspension takes it like a champion; Armsmaster actually does good work in that regard, apparently.

On the other side of the roof, still astride their lizard-dog-dinosaur hybrids, the Undersiders gawk at me in disbelief. Or at least, the girl in the form-fitting purple catsuit (do her parents even know she owns that thing, let alone wears it in public?) is staring at me, squinting and shaking her head like I'm screwing with her own personal reality. I can't tell what Skeletor's expression is, the twink in the Renfaire costume has a similarly face-obscuring mask, and the stocky girl with the dollar-store dog mask hanging around her neck is the poster child for 'resting bitch face'.

"Hi," I announce. "Name's Morrigan. New in town, on a fact-finding mission. First thing I want to know is, why did you guys even get into crime? Anything you want to vent about, I'm willing to listen."

Renfaire Twink recovers first and points at me. "That's bullshit!" he accuses me. "How the fuck did you just ride Armsmaster's bike up the side of a damn building?"

Well, he's got a point. It is bullshit, but a very special kind of bullshit. The kind I'm a past master at, to be specific.

"I might as well ask you how you just rode those lizard-dog-rhino things up the side of a building," I counter. "The answer is simple: because I could. So, as we were saying." I point at the big guy with the skull face helmet. "You. Skeletor. What do you get out of being a supervillain? Is it just the filthy lucre, or is there more to it for you?"

There's a frozen pause, then Renfaire Twink and Purple Catsuit snort in either amusement or disbelief. Resting Bitch Face doesn't even crack a smile; in fact, she continues to glower at me. I'm not put off by it, but I have to give her kudos for staying on track like that.

"My name's Grue, not Skeletor," says the guy reluctantly. I can tell he doesn't want to talk to me, but his buddy's already opened a line of communication, and talking's generally better than fighting, especially when you're facing someone who could just possibly kick your ass up between your shoulder-blades. "I'm in it for the money. Why do you want to know?"

"Just information gathering, to be honest." I go to gesture toward Purple Catsuit, but she nearly has an epileptic fit when I do, so I change my mind and call on the smaller guy. "Okay, you. Renfaire Twink. What's your deal in all this?"

Grue (that's a terrible name; if I was him, I'd complain to HR) audibly chuckles at that, and Purple Catsuit nearly falls off her mount with laughter. Even Resting Bitch Face cracks half a smile, but no more than that.

"The fuck?" complains Renfaire Twink. "Why does Grue get Skeletor, but I get … that? I'm Regent, and don't you forget it!" He gestures in my direction with the stupid gold-painted sceptre thingy he's carrying around. My right hand and left leg twitch involuntarily for some reason, but I suppress it.

With the coronet and the medieval clothing, I can see where he's coming from. It's not a great name, but it's a name. I'm just about to make a comment about it when my phone rings. "Hold that thought," I say, and pull it out. "Yeah?"

"What just happened?" asks Loki, sounding honestly concerned for once. "You just started twitching up a storm. The restraints stopped you from falling out of the chair or pulling the jack loose, but this was way more than the usual."

"Huh." I'm remembering the gesture with the sceptre. It seems Renfaire Twink, aka Regent, has a few tricks up his floofy sleeve. "Thanks. I'm on top of it."

"The last time you said that, we had to call in three operatives to clean up the aftermath."

That had not been my finest hour, but I rally gamely anyway. "I dealt with the immediate problem, didn't I? Anyway, busy. Smell you later." Hanging up the phone, I give Regent the stink-eye. "Okay, smart guy. Word of warning? The next time you try to pull that shit, I'm going to take that sceptre thingy away from you and turn you into a twink on a stick."

From the movements of his head, Regent stares at me, at his sceptre, then back to me. "What the hell? How did you do that?"

"Same way I got this bike up here," I remind him. "I'm just that fuckin' good. See these?" I open my coat to show the Undersiders the pistols I'd inherited from Whitey McWhiteface. "I took these off the asshole formerly known as Alabaster, currently residing in the PRT morgue, after I blew his head off last night. I'm willing to bet it'd be a whole lot easier to make you stay down, so let's keep this nice and polite, shall we?"

"Alabaster?" scoffs Regent. "Yeah, like—"

"Shut up, Regent," Purple Catsuit says tensely. She's staring at me while squinting hard, like she's not enjoying the view. "She did it. He's dead. I don't know how she killed him, but she did."

"Like a fuckin' boss is how." I focus my attention on her. "While Renfaire Twink is thinking about his answer, how about you? What's your reason for putting on something that any reasonable father would ground his daughter just for owning, and going out to commit egregious acts of criminality?"

"You are way too young to be having that attitude," she says, but it's only a medium level of snark so I let it go. Besides, I'm impressed. I'm a decade and change older than the Matrix body I'm currently inhabiting, but how does she know that? "As for why I'm doing this … well, there are several reasons, of which money is only one. Mainly, bad choices. Lots and lots of bad choices." She tilts her head, still squinting. "How about you? Why are you going around killing supervillains and mugging heroes for their rides?"

"Because I need to kick over anthills if I'm gonna see what the ants do." Ignoring her reflexive twitch, I look at Regent. "Figured your answer out yet, or did you want to phone a friend?"

Somehow, I can tell he really, really wants to flip me off, but at the same time he doesn't want to go the same way as Alabaster (and Victor, if he but knew). "Money, gaming and security," he says eventually. I suspect he's being even more honest than he intends. "Being a supervillain means I can afford the best gaming consoles out there, and not going to school or working a nine-to-five means quality gaming time is all the time."

"And security?" I prod him. "You mentioned that, too."

He makes a motion with his head that I suspect involves an eye-roll. "My dad's a villain too, the type that other villains don't associate with. If I'm with a gang, it means he's less likely to be able to swoop in and drag me back to the rest of the family."

From the way Grue glances at him, I get the impression he wasn't this forthcoming with the rest of his team when he joined. Purple Catsuit and Resting Bitch Face don't react; I suspect the former already knew, and the latter doesn't give a fuck. I can respect that attitude, given that it forms a major part of my worldview.

"And what about you?" I ask Resting Bitch Face. "You got a tragic story, or are you just in it for the big bucks?"

She gives me a challenging stare. "Why the fuck do you care?"

"Listen," says Purple Catsuit tensely. "Her mom abandoned her, she had a shitty time in the foster system, and she triggered when her last foster mom tried to kill her dog. Okay?"

While I'd really rather get that info from the horse's mouth, it's clear Purple Catsuit is trying to avoid a lethal confrontation, and I get the strong impression that Resting Bitch Face isn't the type to back down easily, or at all. Besides, I can fill in the blanks from what I've already been told: kid gets powers, shit goes sideways, and now she's permanently on the run. Joining a gang would've given her much the same kind of security as Regent was looking for.

This gives me interesting insights into the gangs, if the Undersiders are anything like a viable sample. None of them are in it just for the cash; even Grue, if I'm reading his momentary hesitation correctly, has other motives that I haven't figured out yet. 'Curiouser and curiouser', as someone said, once upon a time.

(I'm personally convinced that Alice fell into an earlier version of the Matrix, and only made it out by the skin of her teeth.)

Resting Bitch Face glares at Purple Catsuit. "Did I ask you to say anything?" Yeah, she's definitely pricklier than fifty yards of saguaro cactus.

I speak up again, mainly to defuse the incipient squabble; while I really don't care if they beat the shit out of each other at any other time, I'd rather not have to wait until they're finished before I get the answers to the rest of my questions. "Hey, fight on your own time. So, what's the skinny on Kaiser and his merry band of goose-steppers? Doesn't he know Hitler died decades ago?"

"Knows, doesn't care." Grue sounds appropriately disgusted by them, for which I award him mental kudos. Unless he's black under there—and he might well be, because I can't see as much as a square inch of skin to check—he's to be commended for his attitudes. If he is, then it just means he isn't a fuckin' moron. "We're pretty sure Allfather was his dad. He's just carrying on the family business, and he doesn't give a damn about who dies or gets beaten up in the process, just for having the wrong name or skin tone in the wrong part of town."

"Their biggest recruiter is Lung," Regent chips in without even being prompted. Good boy. You can learn, after all. "You know about the ABB, right?"

I nod. "I was going to ask about them next, yeah. Asian supremacist gang, if I recall correctly?"

"That's them." He gestures with the sceptre, but not toward me, and I don't feel any twitches. "Every time they do anything at all, Kaiser shouts it from the rooftops, and few more rednecks get insecure enough to join up. Same thing happens when the Empire Eighty-Eight beat up on some minority out on the street late at night: Lung whips the ABB into a frenzy, and they talk a few more locals into joining 'for their own protection'." For someone with a flattened emotional response, he could certainly pack a lot of sarcasm into those four words.

A few more things become clear to me. "So, neither one's really dedicated to wiping out the opposition, because they're each essential to the other's ongoing recruitment prospects. Yeah, that totally tracks." I pause and grin. "Want to know something else about Lung you didn't know before?"

They exchange glances, but only Purple Catsuit speaks up. "You did something to them, didn't you? Just before you stole Armsmaster's bike."

"That's right." I let the silence stretch on for a few more seconds. "I shoved the motorbike I was using then up Lung's nose, then I shot Oni Lee a couple of times and beat the fuck out of him. If Armsy's still got all his faculties, and I didn't hit him that hard, then they'll both be in PRT custody in the next five to ten minutes."

Purple Catsuit stares at me. "Holy shit, you really enjoy living on the edge, don't you? Alabaster's not a big member of the Empire, but killing him definitely sends a very loud message, and putting down Lung and Oni Lee for the PRT sends another one."

"Don't forget, she stole Armsmaster's bike," Regent chimes in. "I'm pretty sure the message is along the lines of 'batshit insane, do not engage'."

Grue and Purple Catsuit both tense and look at me when he says that, but I'm not the least bit offended. Besides, Loki's said worse to me with the Captain right there.

"I like that." I throw him a grin. "I might just use it."

"Knock yourself out."

"Sure thing. Oh, I might've forgotten to tell you. After I killed Alabaster, I topped Victor as well, then stole a ton of money and guns from the safehouse they were in. Then I burned down the safehouse with a bunch of drugs inside. And at the same time I beat up Lung and Oni Lee, I chased off Storm-whatsit and the Viking chick twins. Shot 'em all a few times."

Purple Catsuit slaps both hands over her mouth to contain her reaction. Grue just nods slowly, Regent mutters, "fuck me" and shakes his head, and Resting Bitch Face seems to look pleased. Briefly, anyway. I'm getting the impression that a smile from her is basically the equivalent of a standing ovation from anyone else.

"So anyway," I say, "what can you tell me about Coil? His PHO page is pretty scarce on information."

Purple Catsuit raises her head and lowers her hands from her mouth. "Before I tell you that, what're you planning for him?"

I shrug. "Get his measure, maybe smack him around for light exercise. What've you got for me?"

She shakes her head. "Not worth it. He's got some sort of reality bending ability that means he always makes the right choice. Also, fifty or so mercenaries with cutting lasers on their guns. If I tell you what I know and you get through them, then just hand him over to the PRT or even leave him to go free, he'll learn I ratted him out, and then he'll come after me. Hard pass on that."

"Reality bending, huh?" And here I'd been thinking he was almost too boring to mess with. This sounds like a real challenge. "Okay, so what can you tell me about him?"

"Hey." It's Resting Bitch Face. "Are you gonna be fucking with the Empire Eighty-Eight again? Like maybe Hookwolf?"

I look over at her. These are the first words she's actually volunteered, so I'm inclined to be nice. "That's always a possibility, sure. I've read he's an asshole."

"He runs dogfighting rings." If talking about someone could kill them, Hooksy would already be pushing up daisies. "Fucker needs to die."

I shrug. "I've heard of worse reasons. See what I can do." Then I look back over at Purple Catsuit. "You were saying?"

She takes her time with her response. "He's got an underground base near a skyscraper under construction. Find that, you've found him."

Well, I've had thinner leads. "Sounds good to me. Night, all. Good talk."

Engaging reverse gear on the bike—Armsmaster installed that, too—I gun it, bringing the bike up onto its front wheel. Then I dance it around in a circle, flick the throttle so the back wheel drops and the bike pops a wheelie. When I let it fall forward, the front wheel goes over the edge of the building, and the rest of the bike follows.

I draw on my Matrix capabilities pretty hard from that point onward. I've got the bike pointing downward at an angle, leaning in as close to the wall as I can. From the bike's point of view, gravity is actually partway into the wall, so as far as it can tell, we're going sideways down a really steep slope, allowing the tyres to keep some level of traction (and leave streaks of rubber on the brickwork). When I'm most of the way down, I give it some more gas; the bike leaps off the wall, finishes the demolition job on the car, and I ride off down the street.

Time to go find Coil and find out what 'reality bending' looks like from my point of view.

I can't wait.



End of Part Fifteen

 

[Impossibird]

Holy shit. I forgot about this fic, but that chapter fucking rocked. Thanks for continuing,!

 

[meloa789]

Matrix abilities are truly their own brand of bullshit.

 

[Blade4]

And I want to see what happens when Coil and his power try to modal or fuck with a operative. Should be hilarious. Perhaps a stroke?

 

[Necrovore]

And I want to see what happens when Coil and his power try to modal or fuck with a operative. Should be hilarious. Perhaps a stroke?

Click to shrink...

Seeing as it actually is a simulation, I would expect his power to actually create two separate instances here. Maybe have it noticed that people connected and affected show strain on there minds basically running twice the data.

Could have an amusing case where the operative and ship can only see one of the simulations at a time, and have things actually stutter if they were in the collapsed one as they are brought into the line that was kept. Maybe let them switch which instance they were connected to and have Coil panic on seeing someone disappear from one timeline and appear in the other knowing what happened in the first.

Having them deal with Coil not because of what he does, but simply from the fact that his abilities are giving them headaches, would be amusing.

 

[Ack]

Reality Intrudes

Part Sixteen: Speedrunning, Matrix Style

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Tattletale

It took a few moments for the feeling of disorientation to go away altogether, but as far as Lisa could tell, the others had their own problems. When she figured she could finally open her power up and allow it to sample the world properly again, Grue was shaking his head and Regent seemed to be getting over a minor panic attack. Only Bitch was more or less unaffected, though her knuckles were a little whiter than normal.

"What the fuck just happened?" asked Grue shakily. "Who was that?"

"Didn't you hear?" Regent tended to double down with snark when he should be feeling fear, and this time was no exception. "She called herself Morrigan. What I want to know is how she rode a motorbike straight up the side of the building. Did she have gravity powers or something?"

"When she was chasing us down the alley, she pulled a barrel roll with the bike, inside my darkness," Grue added. "Whatever powers she's got, it's more than just gravity."

"Wasn't gravity." Whatever else Lisa was uncertain about, she was sure of that. "I could almost see it. Reality was warping around her, to do what she wanted. She was able to ride the bike up the wall because she'd decided she was damn well going to ride the bike up the wall." Her power had kept trying to categorise what Morrigan was doing, and had ended up headbutting a brick wall. It had not been a pleasant experience.

"So, when my power didn't work on her, it was because she'd decided it wasn't going to?" Regent sounded miffed. "That's not how powers work."

"No." Lisa shook her head. "She didn't even realise you'd tried anything until she got the phone call. Someone told her you'd done it. Which means she's got some kind of backing, who can pick up on stuff like that."

"What I want to know is, how did she see through my darkness if she doesn't have powers?" Grue didn't sound pleased. "Reality warping, or something else?"

"You said Coil bends reality," Bitch broke in unexpectedly. "And you say she was warping reality. What's the difference, or is it just fancy words for the same thing?"

"It's not the same …" Lisa spoke carefully, thinking her words through. Coil had a way of finding out shit that she'd never told him, so she had to make sure she didn't screw him over too blatantly. "I'm almost sure of how he does it. And I know for a fact that's not how she does it." She looked at Grue. "At a rough guess, she needed to know where the obstacles were, and so she knew about them. The fact that she couldn't see them was just a detail." A wave of pain swept through her head. "Now please don't ask anything else about her; I'd rather not have a migraine tonight, thanks."

"Fine," said Grue. "So how did you know that about Coil, anyway? We've never associated with him in any real way."

"Fuck that." Bitch pointed at Regent. "Which supervillain's your dad? Because if he comes looking for you and hurts my dogs, I will fucking take it out of your hide."

"Actually, yeah, I want to know about that, too," Grue agreed. "Regent?"

Regent hesitated, then turned to look at Lisa. "You already know, don't you?" His voice was more resigned than accusing.

"There's not all that many Masters out there." She had indeed already connected the dots, and was pretty sure he was talking about Heartbreaker. He had the looks and the accent, and neural control wasn't a million miles away from emotion control, which would make Regent Hijack if she was right. And she was rarely wrong.

"Yeah, true. Fuck." He sighed. "He's Heartbreaker. I got away from him and I'm not going back. He's one of the reasons I accepted the offer to sign up with the Undersiders. Safety in numbers, and all that crap."

Grue wasn't pleased. Not totally surprising, considering that he had family in the city. Lisa would've personally thrown her father to the wolves, given the chance, but Grue felt differently about his sister. "And you were going to tell us about this when, exactly?"

"Never, had been my game plan." Regent stared at Grue with defiance written into his very posture. "But you saw her. You heard her. If she didn't like the answers we gave her, she would've started asking questions without giving us the choice not to answer. So, I told her what I needed to."

Lisa wasn't thrilled at the omission either, but it was water under the bridge now. "Plus, I'm pretty sure she heard what you didn't say, Grue. I'll keep my ear to the ground, and if I hear even a hint that one of Heartbreaker's kids is in town, we turtle up. Go radio silent."

"And what if he comes to town?" Regent had lost nearly all his blasé tone. "Because he won't stop looking until he finds me. It's just the way he is."

"And if Morrigan's still in town, you know she'll go looking for him." Lisa tilted her head to one side, because she couldn't raise her eyebrow behind her mask. "Who do you think'll come out on top then?"

A thoughtful silence fell over the group. Lisa knew they were thinking about how Morrigan would fare against Heartbreaker, but she had something else on her mind.

If she can find that base from what I told him, Coil is fucked.

I hope.

<><>​

Morrigan

Once I'm away from the Undersiders, I pull out my phone again. Armsmaster's bike is a real beauty; even if I wasn't an operative, I'd be able to ride it one-handed. Being one just makes it easy.

"Operator." Loki's voice seems to be edging between fascinated disbelief and gleeful anticipation. "Just so you know, when you pulled that shit with the motorbike, the Captain swore and punched the wall, then went out to get herself something to drink. In case you missed that part of the briefing, we were supposed to be keeping things on the down-low. Not advertising to all and sundry that there's a Matrix operative running around in their server."

From his tone, Hornblower had meant something alcoholic, which means the guys running the still in Hold 3 are about to get a surprise visit. I'd wondered if she was aware of that thing. Well, now I know.

"Hey, in my defence, even when I'm going loud, it's still not as flashy as some of the idiots in this server seem to be." I'm quite pleased by the way that encounter turned out, actually. Shock and awe absolutely has its uses. "So, did you get everything they said?"

"In living colour. But seriously, did you really just ask a bunch of costumed comic-book supervillains why they're supervillains?"

"Not comic-book supervillains. Just costumed ones." I pause thoughtfully. "If this was a comic book, it would be the sort being published as a dark, arty trade paperback. Not one of them is a supervillain for the giggles. I have no doubt there are some like that out there—like that Jack Slash clown—but for the majority, it's just a life choice."

"Still, you took way too many risks for the Captain's liking." He doesn't sound displeased by this. "When you inevitably crash and burn on this assignment, I'll be right there to testify that you ignored orders—"

"Oh, put a sock in it. Preferably the crusty one you keep under your mattress." I don't give him time to respond. "I need you to do a survey of the city for skyscrapers under construction. Think you can do that, or will your fragile male ego get in the way?"

"You know what? You can take—sure, I'll get right on it." The sound of typing is audible to me over the phone. "Hey, Captain. Morrigan's just chasing down that lead on Coil."

I grin as I end the call. It seems that Captain Hornblower came back from her hunt for booze at just the right time to forestall Loki's attempt to stonewall me. At my best guess (from the last time I was out and about) the only place that it's likely they'll be building a skyscraper will be in the Downtown area, so I head in that direction.

However, it also seems that the so-called superheroes of Brockton Bay haven't finished getting up in my grille yet, as I'm about to find out.

Le sigh.

<><>​

Velocity

Coming to a halt on the Boardwalk (he'd been whipping past the late-night strollers almost too fast to be seen when the message came in), Robin Swoyer pressed his earpiece more firmly into his ear. "Velocity to Control. Say again your last, over?"

The specialised radio could take his words, compare his current rate of time dilation to the steady pulse of clock pings from the Protectorate base, and stretch everything out as it transmitted to give the guy in the switch room an audible answer, but it was so tedious to wait for a reply. Besides, what he'd just heard definitely needed confirmation now.

"I say again, unknown parahuman temporarily codenamed 'Bandit' has engaged Armsmaster approximately ten minutes ago, damaged his helmet and stolen his motorcycle. Be aware that 'Bandit' previously intervened in a fight between Lung, Oni Lee, Menja, Fenja and Stormtiger; Lung and Oni Lee were incapacitated and subsequently taken into custody, while the others were driven off. This may also be connected to the attack last night on an Empire Eighty-Eight stash house, with multiple confirmed fatalities, as well as the reported but unconfirmed deaths of Victor and Alabaster."

"I copy all that." With some effort, Robin managed to keep his voice level. "Physical description of Bandit? Any notable Tinkertech? Observed powers? Over."

"Bandit appears to be a slender woman or a tall teenage girl, wearing a fedora, sunglasses and a long coat over civilian clothing. She is reported to be armed with at least one pump action shotgun, and perhaps a pair of pistols in shoulder holsters. No visible Tinkertech. Brute level strength, highly acrobatic, trained in martial arts, very possibly a combat Thinker. Was able to disable the safeguards on Armsmaster's cycle and ride off on it before he could stop her. Fragmentary report by someone reporting that she was riding the bike straight up a vertical wall, but last spotted by someone on the Armsmaster tracking page, heading toward Downtown."

"Roger that. Will patrol in that direction, and report in if I see her. Velocity, out." He started off toward Downtown, accelerating as his time dilation rate increased. Weaving around traffic on autopilot, he zoned out as he crossed the city. The main thing on his mind was how exactly had this 'Bandit' gotten the better of Armsmaster.

Robin had sparred with Armsmaster before, and the man was good. More to the point, he had enough tech at his disposal, especially built into his halberd, that he could take out most street-level threats without obvious effort. Brutes were a special case, but his skills and equipment were usually good enough deal with them, too.

For someone to take on five parahumans at once—moderate to heavy hitters all—and disable two and chase off three, before Armsmaster even got there, was the mark of a superior combatant. Especially since the two taken down were the heretofore undefeated Lung and the nigh-untouchable Oni Lee. That bespoke impressive levels of combat Thinker capability, provided it was how she'd beaten them. If not, Robin really wanted to know what it was, because trying to match Lung in the (lower-case b) brute force stakes had always been a losing proposition.

He hoped Armsmaster had a recording of the fight between him and Bandit. It would undoubtedly be highly educational, if only to show people why she wasn't to be taken on one-on-one. But that was for a later moment in time; right now, he was looking for the big man's ride.

Motorbikes were not an uncommon mode of transportation inside Brockton Bay, especially for gang members, but this one had been so thoroughly modified that it was unique. Keeping an eye out for it, he did a sweep through the side-streets and back-alleys of the Downtown area without any luck. God damn it, she's already taken it under cover somewhere. But he didn't want to admit defeat so quickly, so he made one last check along the main roads coming through the area.

And there she was. Not even trying to hide, just hammering down the middle of the road like she had every right to be there. Also treating the road rules like a vague suggestion, but that last bit didn't surprise him in the slightest.

Not bothering to slow down because he wanted to keep sight of her, he activated his radio microphone. "Velocity to Control, I have a visual on the perpetrator. Description as given, riding southeast on Columbus Drive. Requesting advice on how to proceed, over."

It was no problem at all to keep up with her. As fast as she was riding, weaving between the cars like they were standing still, he could more than match her speed with no effort. However, he intended to learn from Armsmaster's example and not engage her until he either had solid orders from above or some kind of backup.

As far as he was concerned, any member of the Protectorate would be welcome right now. On his own, keeping up was about all he could do, unless they ordered him to get in close and tase her. He was reluctant to do that, mainly because coming off a motorbike at that speed would almost certainly leave her severely injured, if not dead. But he could absolutely work with someone else to a) stop the damn bike without destroying it, and b) get her off it and into custody relatively unharmed.

And of course, after all that, they could ask her what the fuck did she think she was doing? But that bit wasn't in his purview. He was just there to stop idiots from killing themselves and each other doing stupid shit.

"Control to Velocity. Vectoring PRT and Protectorate assets to your location, ETA ten minutes. You are authorised to do a close pass on the perpetrator. If possible, disarm her. Do not initiate physical combat, or do anything else that might endanger bystanders."

He took a deep breath. "I copy, close pass, attempt to disarm, no combat. Velocity, out."

As he started to move in on the slim woman riding the motorbike like it was an extension of her body—seriously, her balance and timing for it were even better than Armsmaster's, who'd designed it—he considered the phrasing. It had definitely come from the higher-ups, and not from Armsmaster. The whole 'do not do anything that might endanger bystanders' was basically them covering their asses.

If this blows up, they want to be able to put their hands on their hearts and swear they told me not to do anything dangerous. Right after telling me to do something that might be dangerous.

God, he hated being a Protectorate cape sometimes.

Cranking his relative time dilation up to about two hundred to one, he angled in on the bike, just about where he judged the right-hand blind spot to be. The bike was pulling a hundred miles per hour easily, switching lanes and zooming around cars with careless abandon, but that was fine. He could keep up, no problem. And while his punches at that level of dilation were slightly less authoritative than being slapped across the face with a powder-puff, he could manipulate items, so long as he was careful about it.

To him, the bike was crawling along at a casual walking pace as he jogged up alongside the rider. The best bit about this was that he had all the time in the world. Nobody could react as fast as he could when he was—

She whipped her head around and looked directly at him. Caught reaching for the nearest holstered pistol, he stared at her. She took her hand off the handlebar and slapped his hand away. Then, while he was still gaping, she backfisted him in the chest. The impact was hard enough to send him stumbling back several yards, where he tripped and fell on his ass.

"What the fuck?" he demanded, climbing to his feet. He was in the middle of a traffic lane, but the car coming up behind him wasn't doing more than fifty, so he was able to get up, get his head back in the game, and dust himself off before he even had to think about moving out of the way. "Are you a Mover, too? Is that how you did all that?"

She either couldn't hear him or was ignoring him, because she didn't answer. She had, however, returned her hand to the throttle and was actually accelerating. Not that she could get away from him, but it was going to take a little more effort to catch up with her.

"Velocity to Control, we have an issue." He started jogging again, to make sure he could keep track of her. "She's got Mover capabilities. She can focus on me just fine, and she just tagged me. I'm not injured but I think I'm going to have a bruise, over." Two bruises, but he wasn't going to tell them how he landed on his ass.

While he waited for the reply, he pondered a question that had just occurred to him. If she's a Mover, why steal the bike? Why is she even bothering with a bike?

She still seemed to be ignoring him, though he didn't trust that for an instant. The way she'd turned to look at him had surprised the crap out of him, and he didn't surprise easily. There was no doubt in his mind that she was keeping track of him via her rearview mirrors, with which Armsmaster's bike was amply equipped.

About three minutes later, or a little under one second if he wanted to count it in real time, she actually took her hand off the handlebars and reached into her pocket. He watched, both incredulous and horrified, as she lifted the phone to her ear. Oddly enough, her hand wasn't moving nearly as fast as it had been when she deflected his attempt at grabbing her pistol.

Still weaving through traffic at a ridiculously high speed, she seemed to have a conversation over the phone, at one point glancing back to check on him with the same high-speed head-flick that she'd used before. He was still waiting on the response from Control when she finished the call and put the phone away.

She downshifted and took a corner at what he normally would've called suicidal speeds. He rounded it with a lot less hassle because unlike her, he wasn't actually travelling that speed, so he didn't have all that inertia to worry about. Though he had to wonder about Armsmaster's bike; it was good, but Robin hadn't thought it was that good.

Finally, he got a response back from Control. "Velocity, if she's got Mover capabilities then she should be able to handle coming off the motorcycle. Disable the bike without destroying it, please. Only engage if absolutely necessary."

He wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained. More covering of asses, right there. Armsmaster totally wanted his bike back in good shape, but they also wanted to stop Bandit before she attacked any other capes. Meanwhile, he was the poor schmuck on scene trying to carry out conflicting directives, and he was totally the guy who'd get blamed when the whole thing went to shit.

But he'd been given orders, so he was damn well going to do his best to carry them out. That was one thing that hadn't changed from his first days in uniform. "Velocity to Control, I copy disable the bike without destroying it. Will only engage if I consider it necessary. Velocity, out."

Which left two huge questions looming over him. First, how was he supposed to disable a bike like Armsmaster's, travelling at that speed, in a way that wouldn't end up destroying it? Second, how was he supposed to even get close enough to disable it, considering that she had Mover capabilities and she was able to react to what he did in (his) real time?

The quickest way to stop any two-wheeled vehicle, he knew, was by sticking something into the spokes of one of the wheels. Front wheel would inevitably make it go end over end, while back wheel would probably cause the back end to slide out. Armsmaster wouldn't be thrilled either way, but the back wheel was probably preferable.

The next question was, what should he use? He suspected that an ordinary wooden stick would fail to suffice; Armsmaster's tech was more durable than that. I need a metal bar of some sort.

Still following the bike down a back street, impressed despite himself at the way she weaved between the worst of the potholes and took the ones she hit in her stride, he looked around for something to jam in the wheel. Up ahead was a car parked at the side of the road, the driver just getting out. Perfect.

Speeding up a little to pass her (and making sure to give her a wide berth) he arrowed in on the car. The driver was almost frozen in place, his head only just beginning to turn as the bike roared toward him. Robin could see he was in no danger, but hopefully he had something useful in his car.

Reaching in past the driver, he triggered the trunk release, then ducked around and opened it with a surge of effort. Right there, ready to hand, was exactly what he needed: a tyre iron. Nice and durable, just what he needed to stop a bike that Armsmaster had designed.

Grabbing it, he set off after the bike, which had passed the car in the meantime. It was only a few yards ahead, but now travelling at a rather respectable walking pace. She had to know he was up to something, but unless she wanted to actually stop controlling the bike altogether, there wasn't much she could do—

She triggered the oil sprayers.

Normally this would not have been a problem for him. At his current rate of time dilation, the oil—actually, a special formulation of synthetic low-friction high-surface-tension liquid lubricant—would take so much time to reach the ground that he could literally walk around the perimeter of the spray and still have time to buff his nails before inserting the tyre iron where it would do the most good. But this didn't happen.

One second, he was casually jogging up behind the bike, and the next he was covered from the waist down with the 'oil'. Somehow, she'd made the bike's systems act within the same time frame he was used to using. He couldn't stop his foot from coming down, and it was like the asphalt had been covered with the slickest of black ice. Only by the greatest effort of waving his arms did he avoid going ass over teakettle a second time.

By the time he got his feet under himself in a stable stance, she was well away. He couldn't move or chase her, not without falling over. His boots were now coated with the stuff, so he wouldn't be able to walk, let alone run, until they'd been cleaned off.

The worst part was, she'd stymied him in a way he didn't understand. Actually, that was the second worst part. The worst part was the way how (as she rode off sedately down the back street) she gave him the finger without looking.

He sighed and activated his radio. "Velocity to Control. We have an issue …"



End of Part Sixteen

 

[Luminatira]

well, maybe Armsmaster shouldn't have taunted an unknown cape to a fight? this is all on him xD

 

[John-Smith]

well, maybe Armsmaster shouldn't have taunted an unknown cape to a fight? this is all on him xD

Click to shrink...

He didn't report the truth about lung's or his attempted murder during leviathan, you think he's going to report that he taunted an unknown cape to fight on first contact? I wouldn't be surprised if his camera had 'unexpected technical difficulties' which cut the recording from before the fight started.

 

[Blade4]

She is going to get a trump rating at this rate. Who ever she fights she seems to warp reality to be able to counter them and she keeps trolling and acting like a nut. Everyone trying to analyze her is going to be pulling hair out and reaching for the good stuff.

 

[Ack]

He didn't report the truth about lung's or his attempted murder during leviathan, you think he's going to report that he taunted an unknown cape to fight on first contact? I wouldn't be surprised if his camera had 'unexpected technical difficulties' which cut the recording from before the fight started.

Click to shrink...

She actually arranged it so the only bit of usable audio (with the video fuzzed beyond restoration) is of him asking, "You gonna fight me?"

She is going to get a trump rating at this rate. Who ever she fights she seems to warp reality to be able to counter them and she keeps trolling and acting like a nut.

Click to shrink...

Trolling is the point.

Everyone trying to analyze her is going to be pulling hair out and reaching for the good stuff.

Click to shrink...

Including Captain Hornblower.

 

[Atlas1965]

So, my best guess at her strategy at this point is essentially to run around and see what it takes to get an Agent-equivalent dropped on her - or, at the very least, keep poking the hornet's nest and see what comes out.

 

[Ack]

So, my best guess at her strategy at this point is essentially to run around and see what it takes to get an Agent-equivalent dropped on her - or, at the very least, keep poking the hornet's nest and see what comes out.

Click to shrink...

She's only going to be poking it a little longer, until the hornets stop buzzing around in a frenzy and start thinking about getting organised.
Then she'll think about her next move.