Interlude - Alexis

Alexis Fowler hovers in the skies of Grand Rapids, far above her home, in her blue and gold costume while she daintily holds her domino mask in her hand.

“Sup sis,” says an unfamiliar voice from behind her and Alex jumps, dropping her mask.

“Who are you?” asks Alex as she turns around and is faced with a platinum blonde, purple eyed Aphrodite woman.

“It’s me, Joan,” replies the woman as she holds out Iris’ mask to Alex, “You dropped this by the way.”

“Umm, thanks Joan,” replies Alex hesitantly as she warily accepts her mask back, “So you manifested…”

“Yep,” says the girl, “I guess I look pretty different now. Is that what is wrong? Would you like me to show you proof of who I say I am or would you prefer it if I took on an appearance more like my old one?”

“Urr, no, it’s fine,” answers Alex, still unsure that this person is actually her sister, but willing to give her the benefit of the doubt given the nature of how powers work.

“You aren’t convinced,” says the girl accusingly as she put her hands on her hips.

“Urr-no, I’m, yeah,” admits Alex, looking away, feeling embarrassed.

If this is actually Joan, I’m going to feel so bad over this and the chances are it actually is my little sister.

“Meh, no worries sis,” replies the girl, “I would probably the same, needing proof first. So, can I use my new powers to convince you? Not that I need your permission, but I would be a real hypocrite if I just used my powers on you without your agreement.”

“Sure,” says Alex, giving the girl the benefit of the doubt, “What are your powers anyway?”

As she finishes speaking, Alex feels as if a switch as flipped in her head. There is no way that this isn’t her sister Joan and Alex flushes red with shame as she remembers how she refused to believe that this person was her little sister.

“A+ Class-are you okay?” asks Joan.

“I just feel guilty that I honestly didn’t believe that you were...you,” replies Alex, looking bashful over the fact.

“Don’t sweat Alex,” says Joan as she suddenly appears next to her and throws an arm around Alex’s shoulders, “As soon as I got a good look at my new self, I figured that I would to convince people that I was who I really was. Anyway, my powers are A+ Class Brick with invulnerability.”

“Nigh invulnerability is part of the Brick power set,” points out Alex.

“I didn’t say I had nigh invulnerability,” replies Joan smugly as she makes sure to empathise that particular word.                                                                                                              

“There is no way-you’re being serious aren’t you?” replies Alex, sounding as stunned as she feels, “Next you’ll be telling me you can be bring back the dead.”

“Oh I can’t do that,” replies Joan casually as she inspects one of her fingers, “Well, maybe I can with my third power, but I haven’t tried that and I’m not going to. I am not crossing that line regardless of  whether or not it is even possible for me to do so.”

“Oh,” says Alex before the implications of what Joan just said, “Wait, what exactly is your third power then? If you consider raising the dead to be a possibility because of your third power...”

“Reality warping,” replies Joan with another smug smirk on her face, “Only restriction is that I can’t directly affect powers.”

“That is bleep awesome,” says Alex, “What are you-did I just bleep?”

“Yep,” replies Joan.

“Why did I just bleep?” asks Alex, “I know you’re behind this Joan so tell me what you did.”

“Oh, I just made things so that every time you swear, it is replaced by a bleep,” explains Joan with a giggle.

“Joan!” exclaims Alex, startled by her sister’s action, “Why would you do that to me?”

“We’re sisters Alex,” replies Joan as she giggles again, “It’s basically my job to mess about with you. Just think of yourself as being automatically self-censored.”

“Urggh,” groans Alex, deciding to let the matter drop.

It doesn’t help that I am helpless against her new powers.

Don’t sis, I won’t do anything to hurt you. This is just a harmless prank.

Get out of my head!

Nah...

Joan!

Alright, alright. It would be mighty hypocritical of me to do this. Besides, I fully understand that no means no.

Thanks.

“So Alex, anything you want me to do for you?” inquires Joan.

“Well, you would you-” Alex starts to ask.

“Nope, not joining the Heroes Union,” says Joan, cutting off her sister, “I’m staying neutral, keeping out of the Cape and Cowl scene. Besides, if I were to go hero, I would end up joining the Guardsmen.”

“So what are you going to do?” asks Alex.

“I’m going to start a healing service,” answers Joan as she clasps her hands together, “With my powers, I can heal people who are disabled or crippled with total ease. People who would otherwise be unable to live normal lives. And not only that, but I can give people who were born unable to walk knowledge of how to walk and run, implant entire languages and knowledge of sounds into those born deaf and help those born blind not be overwhelm by all the colours and sights that this world has to offer. It will be awesome! Now, let me squeeze your boobs!”

“Wait, what?” asks Alex, flabbergasted by that last sentence.

“Come on sis, let’s grope each other,” says Joan as she pounces on the startled Alex, “It’ll be fun!” 

Interlude - Ragnarok

“You are a fool Ragnarok,” states Amaterasu as his second in command and newest member of the Harbingers stares at him.

The second strongest of the Dozen Harbingers of the End Times is the most curious of their number.

She has a four metre tall white ethereal body with four arms and four feathery wings. Her eyes are pure black and she has black electrical energy covering her entire body. A lightning blue crown is inbuilt in her head with a forehead pillar that has a red and blue gem in it.

Amaterasu, also known as the Fallen Angel, has electromagnetic powers as her primarily abilities in addition to being an A Class Brick according to the human ratings of this Earth.

Or a 7^th Grade Warrior by the ratings of her former people.

A small smile forms on Ragnarok’s face as he muses over that thought.

Ragnarok himself looks far more mundane than the Fallen Angel. Three metres tall, he looks like a mix of human bodybuilder and business man in a classy suit.

We are both reflective of our origins...

“Why do you smile?” demands Amaterasu, her powers flaring as she glowers at him.

“Do you remember what happened on the world of your people?” replies Ragnarok, answering a question with another question as is usual for him, “In particular the fate of your predecessor?”

“Of course I do,” snap Amaterasu.

“Then it should be obvious why we restrain ourselves,” says Ragnarok simply.

“This world is nothing compared to my own!” snarls Amaterasu angrily, electricity pooling in her fists as she clenches them, “These primitive monkeys are nought when stood up against what my people were!”

“And yet your people are no more,” retorts Ragnarok, “Their world, their nations, their legends, their gods and their greatest accomplishments are gone with nothing remaining. What does that say?”

“Then why didn’t we stay to see that with our own eyes,” sneers Amaterasu, “Or is there a reason we fled with our tails between our legs before we could receive such evidence?”

“Don’t question me!” shouts Ragnarok, his patience beginning to fray as this topic comes up once again, “We both know how this goes. Amaterasu, just admit it. He is no more.”

Rather than responding with words, Amaterasu hurls a massive barrage of untamed lightning at Ragnarok, who simply ignores it as his power nullifies all supernatural power around him.

“The Honourless Hero was not my equal,” drawls Ragnarok as Amaterasu pants with rage.

“You’re right,” agrees Amaterasu as she starts to calm down, “He isn’t your equal. He is far greater than you can possible hope to aspire to.”

“Do not taunt me!” warns Ragnarok as he gets to his feet.

“I do nought, but speak the truth,” says Amaterasu in a calm and gentle voice, “I shall enter our current world. Do not try and stop me.”

“It isn’t your turn yet,” Ragnarok warns her, but the Fallen Angel has already teleported to Earth.

Not willing to go to the effort of retrieving her, Ragnarok sits back down.

She really knows how to irk me. A shame that she still holds to that false belief that not all of her people were destroyed. Her power and martial prowess are near perfect. Still time should break that troublesome spirit of hers. It has broken all of the others.

And yet she has found loyal followers in Behemoth and Leviathan. They are loyal to her just as Armageddon and Apocalypse are loyal to me. The rest of us are undecided and will simply follow the strongest and victorious.

Perhaps recruiting Amaterasu was a mistake after all. No matter. If she proves too troublesome, I will crush her personally. She couldn’t best him and he is certainly not my equal.

...

And I’m definitely more powerful than he is. More skilled too. And more experienced.

Interlude - Breanne

Breanne Fowler looks up at her family’s mansion as she walks through the gates. By just looking at it now, she wouldn’t be able to figure out that it was wrecked by the Slaughter Seven just a couple days before.

Abby works quickly. It must be nice to have-oh wait, I have high level superpowers now as well. I hope Joan won’t jealous. I mean, she is the only member of family not to have superpowers and is probably the one who deserves some the most.

Not that the rest of us don’t deserve our powers, but rather the fact that out of our family, Joan is the only who has suffered the most and she was definitely the one who needed superpowers the most.

None the less, Breanne is proud of her powers. She has some of the basics such as super speed, strength, senses, nigh invulnerability and regeneration. Beyond that, Breanne can flight, teleport, use telekinesis and freezes things in time with just a single touch.

But the greatest of Breanne’s new powers revolve around changing forms of herself and others. She takes on elements of anything nearby, including the features of people, and can shapeshift and not just into other people, but also into animals and inanimate objects.

It felt really weird to turn into a dress. I mean, I can turn back and forth at will, but I didn’t know that at the time and it took me a few minutes to figure out how to do so. At least nobody tried me on. Hmm, I might try that latter though. I’m curious about what being worn would feel like. Perhaps I’ll turn into a dress and let Joan wear me. She is the sort of person that likes to try out new aspects of powers. And we do sisterly bonding at the same time.

And my main power is to improve and upgrade anything I touch at will. The only limits to that power I have found so far is I need to be touching whatever I’m upgrading and I can only upgrade it once.

Breanne strides up to the front doors. Fortunately for her, her shapeshifting powers apply to her current attire so while her old clothing no longer fits her voluptuous Aphrodite body, Breanne was able to alter them so they do.

I wonder what my family will think of me now? I look different, but so does everyone else in our family with powers. They won’t judge me anymore than I judged them.

Still, I’m glad I kept it simple. Smart, casual clothing of jeans, a brown shirt and a white jacket with my old brown hair and blue eyes. Hmm, I could change my eyes to green like Mum’s. I have always wanted green eyes like Mum.

As Breanne hears her mother coming to the door to let her in, she decides to change her eyes to the green ones that she has always desired.

“Hey Mum,” says Breanne as her mother opens the large doors.

“Breanne!” exclaims her Mum as she embraces her oldest daughter in a hug.

Breanne is silent as she hugs her Mum back.

“So how is Joan?” asks Breanne as they release each other, noting that she can hear the girl in question coming down the stairs in her rush to greet her big sister.

Hmm, I can also hear somebody else whom I don’t know following her. I wonder who it could be?

“I’m fine!” yells Joan as she comes in view, “Wow! You look great!”

That’s Joan alright. Always thinking good things of other people’s blessings rather getting jealous of them. I wish I was like that, but I was always jealous of my family’s powers.

“Good to see you Joan,” replies Breanne with a genuine smile on her face, “So how have things been since we last talked?”

Joan’s face darkens and Breanne feels a sudden onset of worry at her reaction to the question.

Bad things haven’t happen have they?

“We should probably bring you up to speed,” says her Mum as Breanne recognises the person that was following Joan as she comes into sight.

Wait, doesn’t Allison need a wheelchair?

***

“That is a lot to take in,” says Breanne as she leans back in her armchair, “Can just focus on my situation for now while I process all of that?”

“Sure,” replies Joan, “I want to ask you some stuff about your new powers anyway.”

Two of them, their Mum and Allison are sitting the living room. The lot of them have been bringing each other up to speed on the situation here in Grand Rapids whilst Breanne has been informing them about her powers, including the fact that she has been allowed some time to go home so she can get a handle on her powers.

“Of course, you do,” says Breanne with a smile at her sister.

“What?” says Joan defensively, “I find powers cool even if I don’t have any of my own.”

“Oh, I know,” replies Breanne, “I just know you well enough to predict that you’ll want to do that.”

“So can I ask my questions now?” inquires Joan.

“Sure,” says Breanne as she internally debates on whether to do something silly and impulsive.

I wouldn’t even consider this if it was anyone else, but Joan has that sort of personality and we never really did many things together as kids. And I do want to try and connect with her now.

“Well, I was-” Joan starts to say before squealing as Breanne teleports on top of her.

“Got ya sis,” laughs Breanne as she manhandles Joan from behind, easily overpowering her little sister’s attempts to resist.

“Breanne...” says their Mum with amusement in her voice.

“I’m just playing around Mum,” replies Breanne, “I never got to do this stuff with Joan when we were younger.”

“Joan does like this sort of stuff,” Allison pitches in.

“Get your boobs out of my face!” yells Joan and Breanne relents her hold on Joan.

“Sorry Joan, just wanted to have a bit of fun,” apologises Breanne as she releases her sister entirely.

“Now as I tried to ask before, can you use your improvement power on people?” asks Joan as she stands up.

“Um, yeah,” answers Breanne, caught off guard by the question, “I only done it once, but it worked. Are you asking me to use it on you?”

“Yes!” exclaims Joan excitedly.

“Joan, you don’t know what potential effects it could have on you,” warns their Mum.

“Don’t worry about that,” replies Joan with a dismissive wave of her hand, “Legacy has a backup of my biological and mental data, I’ll be fine. If something goes wrong, I’ll have her restore me to normal.”

“Okay then,” says Breanne as she reach forward towards Joan, “Come ‘ere sis.”

“Thank you Bree!” says Joan as Breanne touches her forehead.

The effects are instantaneous and while expecting the change, Breanne is still caught off guard.

Well, she still looks like Joan would, just better and improved.

Joan has basic look she did before, only now she is slightly taller and a lot prettier. She has a bright, lush red hair and shining green eyes. Her skin looks healthy and Joan has a good muscle structure.

Her features are more refined and her figure is average, which is a step up considering Joan didn’t have one before. And last, but not least...

“I have breasts,” squeals Joan as she looks down at herself with unconcealed joy.

“Only B cups at most,” says Breanne with a smile, noting that Joan’s clothes are now rather tight on her, “Perhaps you should change into something better suited to your new body.”

“In a moment,” replies Joan, not really paying attention, “I want to see how I look.”

Of course she does. Not that I’m in any position to speak given that I wanted to the exact same thing after I manifested. Well, I know I can help her.

“Oh, let me,” says Breanne as she shapeshifts into a handheld mirror.

“Thank you Bree,” replies Joan as she picks her up.

Wow, this feels weird.

“How about this for a suggestion,” says Breanne as she forms her face in miniature above the mirror, “I’ll turn into a dress later and you can wear me. I’m curious to see what it feels like and it seems like something we would both enjoy doing.”

“Sure thing Bree!” replies Joan happily as she checks herself out, “Oh thank you Bree! This is wonderful.”

“You’re welcome sis,” replies Breanne, more than happy to help her little sister, “Now let me change back. You have no idea how weird this feels.”

Interlude - Belinda

Belinda Oriana Geary hesitates as she waits by the door of her alternate’s bedroom, unwilling to go out into the corridor just yet.

This version of Earth is just so strange. And yet it is very similar and I almost forget where I am. But then something majorly different just comes along and reminds me of my situation.

We’ll work through this.

Yeah, we will. But this world will take some getting used to. They have only had powers here for six months and there is at least over a hundred thousand parahumans since then while our world had them for over two years and there wasn’t even twenty thousand yet. And there is at least five hundred A Class parahumans in this world while ours had less than twenty total.

We’ll have to get used to no longer being one of the most powerful people in the world.

I wonder when my alternate will get back.

Leo you mean?

Yeah, Leonard Orrell Geary. I wonder what he is like? I hope he is like me, but considering the major differences in our lives...we can’t be certain he will be like us at all. For starters he is a boy and has two younger siblings while we are, were, an only child. Plus he has Joan as a girlfriend rather than as the sister that we never had.

He is a good person like you are and he also choose to become a hero to do the right thing just as you did. Just ask Joan, she is coming to see us right now.

It isn’t Joan, just her alternate.

“May I come in?” asks this world’s Joan as she pushes the door wide open and strides in.

“You’re supposed to wait for a response for coming in,” replies Belinda as Joan hops down on the bed.

“I know,” answers Joan with a shameless smile.

Well, at least she is like our Joan.

I suppose.

“Come and sit next to me,” says Joan as she pats bed next to her.

Why not?

Doing as the alternate Joan says, Belinda plops herself down next to the smaller girl.

“So what do you want?” asks Belinda as she looks down at the smaller girl.

“Well, first I want to tell you that I think you’re beautiful,” replies Joan, causing Belinda to flush red in response, “I know you’re an Aphrodite, but just look at yourself.”

Now feeling both pleased and self-conscious at the compliment, Belinda looks down at herself.

Joan does have a point. I am very beautiful, beyond the point that a normal person could naturally hope to reach.

Her long, sleek blonde hair is draped over her large breasts with her cleavage exposed by the tightly fitting white t-shirt. Belinda looks past her breasts at her denim skinny jeans covering her legs.

I have long and pretty hair, an excellent hourglass figure and perfect features. I supposes I am beautiful. At least by my own definitions

“But what I don’t get is why you’re an Aphrodite rather than a Bellator,” continues Joan.

“What?” replies Belinda, confused by what Joan just asked her.

“Well, Leo is a very practical and pragmatic person hence why his Enhanced rating is a Bellator,” explains Joan, “You on the other hand are an Aphrodite, which applies when people care more about looks.”

“Well, while I’m a tomboy at heart, I still like to be a girly girl,” replies Belinda, “I suppose that is why I am an Aphrodite. That said, I am also partially Bellator as my Enhanced body puts my physique at C+ Class plus levels.”

“Really?” says Joan, sounding like she only half-believes what she is being told, “Well, I suppose there are weirder things than having a mega-hybrid superpower. That said, I’m certain that are some supers already with powers like that.”

“Yeah,” agrees Belinda absentmindedly.

“Hey Bel,” says Joan suddenly, getting that cheeky look on her face that Belinda wouldn’t recognise anywhere.

At least some things are same in this universe.

Joan reaches forward with her hand towards Belinda’s chest. And while she spots it easily with her increased reaction times and perception and could easily block the relatively slow motion with her superior reflexes, Belinda lets it happen.

My Joan did this plenty of times as well.

Joan’s hand squeezes Belinda’s breast and Belinda, deciding to have a bit of fun herself, quickly grabs Joan at inhuman speeds and thrusts her head towards her breast. As her head is buried in Belinda’s breasts, Joan lets out a yelp that is muffled by the mounds of flesh.

As she lets go of Joan, Belinda starts to laugh and as soon as she has pulled her head back, Joan joins her.

This Joan is going to be just fine.

See? Look on the bright sight of things Belinda.

As their laugh dies down after a minute or so, Belinda pulls Joan into a hug and Joan hugs her back.

“Thank you for being here for me,” whispers Belinda into Joan’s ear.

“No problem,” replies Joan, “Leo has always been there for me and you’re basically Leo if he had been born a girl. How big are they anyway?”

“So you think of me as female version of Leo?” inquires Belinda, genuinely curious about this matter, “Oh, the girls are F cups.”

“Wow,” mutters Joan before answering Belinda’s question, “Well, yeah. Of course I do. I mean, I wouldn’t have done that to anybody else. I haven’t done it with my own family, with Allison it would be to awkward and it would just be plain weird to do it to Legacy.”

“Legacy?” repeats Belinda.

I have never heard of that girl before.

And such a strange name.

“Guardian,” replies Joan with a shrug, “Half-alien mutant super soldier superhero with no memories of her past and my best friend. But we can talk about her later. I want to show you something first.”

“Sure,” replies Belinda, intrigued by whatever Joan wishes to show her.

Aren’t you bothered by whom or rather what Legacy is?

Not at the moment. Besides, she is Joan’s best friend so we don’t need to worry about her.

Joan pulls out a smartphone and holds the screen in front of Belinda.

Don’t react to this and keep it quiet.

This is the only secret I haven’t spilled today and probably the most important.

Okay, now I definitely want to know what this is.

The text on the screen of the phone changes, breaking apart and reforming into a series of different words.

Hello Aunt Belinda. I am Jaylyn Geary, more commonly known Sentinel to the world at large. I am an AI created by my father Leonard Orrell Geary and my true nature is known only to a select few. Pleasure to meet you.

Wow.

Oh yes.

I can’t believe this.

You’re an aunt.

Oh shut it Determined Protector.

Interlude - Armoury

Armoury squirms as she feels another onset of excruciating pain. She hates her life after since her hometown was overrun by the Slaughter Six and their thugs.

Hell, I can’t even remember the name of my hometown because of what they done to me. I can’t even remember my own @#$£ing name, only that everybody calls me Armoury.

As for what they did to her, Armoury doesn’t know the full details, but has had the misfortune to witness her current appearance at different times.

Her skin is a motley white with a hideous criss-cross of stiches all over the half-dead flesh. Her mouth has been sewn shut while her left eye has been replaced with some red-eye biological contraption that allows her to view things with much more detail than she should be.

Her hair has all been removed along with her nose and ears, the latter having been replaced with some extremely sensitive, but nonvisible alternatives. She also has multiple sets of arms with two more being added below her original pair and a fourth and fifth added to her both shoulders, giving her eight arms in total.

And that is just her exterior appearance as Armoury has no idea of what has been done to her insides.

What I do know is that whatever Hackjob has done to means that I can’t escape or disobey the orders of the Slaughter Seven.

I hate having to serve that monsters. Slaughtering my family and friends, burning down my hometown and turning me into this…this abomination! Stripping me of my freewill as well! And Hackjob didn’t even have the decency to remove my ability to feel pain! Every moment is one of low level pain at best.

She is currently being held captive in the back of a truck on the outskirts of the current city that the Slaughter Seven are going after.

I wonder how long they can last. They have already destroyed over fifty different settlements, including four small cities. At this rate, they are going to run out of people to kill or somebody is going to take them down.

Armoury feels her eyes straying to her current guard, Biokiena. She lacks control over her body, her eyes and limbs moving of their own accord or when controlled by others.

Biokiena is a blonde and blue eyed Aphrodite woman and A Class Biokinetic, able to manipulate her own body and any organic matter in sight completely and utterly.

Armoury glares at Biokiena, analysing her entire body in the process. Eventually Biokiena realises what Armoury is doing and turns her head to look back at Biokiena.

“What are you looking at?” sneers Biokiena.

A bitch.

But Armoury is unable to speak and has been in that position for over a month now.

What I would do to you if I get the chance.

Too bad my power is utterly useless to save me or even extract my vengeance. Instead, all it does is add my tormentors. I can’t believe I have no control over my power now. I would much rather not use it and die than use it and assist these monsters.

Suddenly there are several hisses as energy discharges multiple times outside and the screams of dying creatures, a mixture of Hackjob’s creations and creatures summoned by Demonica.

Biokiena’s head snaps around as she looks at the back of the truck. She prepares for battle, enhancing her body with armour plating and spikes while Armour is certain she is internally improving it as well.

A green tinted grey blade stabs through the side of the truck and into Biokiena’s head. The supervillainess is dead before she can even begin to process what has happened as the blade tears into her brain.

The blade withdraws and Armoury can hear thuds outside as the killer of Biokiena moves outside.

The blade comes down at the lock of the back of the truck, cutting through the lock with ease. The back doors swing open and a moment later, the killer walks in.

Armoury is surprised at the appearance of the new arrival. It is a humanoid robot that looks very crudely built. Its head is curved with no sides of ears or nose. The mouth is a rectangular radio speaker while the right eye is an oval and has a light blue glow to it. The left eye looks like a scope, just barely jutting out and has no lens, but a deep blue glow.

The head and the rest of the body is all armoured in a grey metal with a green tint and Armoury notes it is the same metal as the sword. Speaking of which, the sword is built into the end of the left arm where the hand should be, replacing that part of the body. The right arm has a curved gun built into it with the hand underneath it with only three fingers and one thumb.

The machine approaches her and it raises its sword.

No! I will not die! I will fight!

But try as she might, Armoury cannot fight. She cannot even get her body to respond to the most basic of commands.

With a wordless and entirely internal roar, Armoury feels her power overcharging as the injustice of it all comes crashing down on her as her death is imminent.

She roars as her body changes, reshaping itself, and her power expands and grows, reforging itself into something stronger.

Muscle is replaced with blue, superior techno-organic replacements. Her extra arms before truly hers and her skin is replaced with steely blue plates of smooth, sleek armour. Her head now looks like a featureless helmet except for a set of pure black mechanical eyes.

Now stronger and powerful, over two metres tall with eight arms, Armoury laughs. The sound comes from vocal box beneath her armour-flesh as Armoury has no visible reaction on the outside.

No longer weak or helpless, Armoury snarls as she reaches for her attacker before the robot can strike at her.

But the robot swiftly dodges with ease. Not due to its speed and reflex, which seem to be equal to Armoury’s new own, but with the skill of an experienced veteran born of countless battles. It is now that Armoury realises that armour of robot is covered in old battle scars.

Now the question is whether it can’t repair those or simply chose not to.

“I seek to talk, not battle with you,” says the robot in a mechanical, but slightly cheerful voice, 

“Actually I sought to free you, but seems to be no longer necessary.”

“What do you want?” asks Armoury, her new voice a deep, feminine hum.

“Your assistance,” replies the robot, “I will give you a new cause, completely with a new life and purpose.”

Armoury thinks for a moment. She does need a new life.

“I am interested,” answers Armoury.

“Good, for my foes are dangerous and powerful, but must also be stopped,” says the robot.

“It is the Slaughter Seven?” inquires Armoury as she takes in her new appearance.

“No,” answers the robot.

“Let me guess, the Harbingers?” Armoury tries again.

“Not the top priority at the moment,” replies the robot, “Ragnarok is predictable and likes to take things slow. For all his might, he and his pack are not the most dangerous things in this world right now. They are still reeling from recent defeats both physically and mentally.”

“Oh?” says Armoury curiously.

“I will explain in detail later,” says the robot as it motions with its hand, “Now we must deal with the approaching Aquiline.”

Armoury would grin if she still could. She is eager to extract her revenge on her captor.

“He is beaten and his forces are in disarray,” continues the robot.

“How many have fallen to the Slaughter Seven?” asks Armoury.

“Less than two hundred,” answers the robot and Armoury is stunned.

“How can there be so few?” demands Armoury.

“I got a parahuman who goes by the codename Chronicler to keep losses today minimal,” explains the robot without actually explaining.

“Oh,” says Armoury, not understanding, “I am Armoury by the way.”

“Greetings Armoury,” says the robot, “I am GD-G2.”