"You've not been given clearance to act in our city, Blackwall." Julius spoke through gritted teeth. Anger mixed with concern.I was sitting on a protruding rock, cleaning the burnt mark from my synthetic skin, wearing nothing but the white cloak that Weaver had dropped off with her bugs. The sound of sirens filled the streets around. Mostly police or parahuman response teams. Some ambulances as well."I believe that the S-Class treaty extends to Italy as well, Julius.""The Blasphemies are not S-Class." He shot back."After this? It'll change."Julius did not answer that time. I disliked the way he looked at me, both in arrogance and suspicion. Had I not just survived an attack that rivaled Behemoth's might, he'd be trying to have this conversation in a jail cell rather than there in the open.The parahuman in front of me was part of one of the two main groups of heroes active in Rome, and the leader of his team. He was technically part of the Swiss Guard, the Pontiff's private army, rather than a hero. Though he still acted as such."What just happened could have been avoided had you come to us for help. Instead, all we got was an email alerting us of your arrival, then a loud explosion not even thirty minutes later. This makes you look bad. Really bad, Blackwall.""Then allow me to get out of your hair." I stood up. Julius took it as a threat, taking a step towards me, still in the air as he created more footholds out of bronze."I don't want to place you under arrest. But I will, if you force me to."My indifference must have been getting on his nerves, as I saw him tapping his finger against his bicep, bronze hitting bronze and making a distinct sound.Until something else broke the relative quiet of the crater: the growl of an engine coming closer, and stopping just before the edge, where once the walls of the Colosseum stood. Another parahuman joined us.She stepped off the bike and glanced towards Julius, then towards me. It took less than a second to place a name to the mask: this was Malacoda. Leader of the Blackbranch hero group. She wore a wide cloak, split in the middle in the likeness of wings. Her costume was military-inspired: a navy/charcoal jacket with long cargo pants, with a brown leather belt, ending with dark steel-lined boots and fingerless gloves.What most stood out was her mask: an angular and symmetrical glass shield, covering every part of her face, but leaving the sides and hair exposed, ending in sharp decorations that gave her a menacing look. I could see myself reflected over the surface of that mask.I couldn't spot her power's manifestation, however. Even if I knew that she, like Miss Militia, couldn't turn her power off."Frate Julius. And Blackwall, correct? What an odd combination of individuals." Malacoda chuckled, then shook her head before continuing:"Now then, would you mind explaining why you destroyed our treasured Colosseum?" she asked, smiling behind her mask. I raised an eyebrow - that was a rather leading question. Julius openly sneered at the other hero. It was rather well known that the Blackbranch and the Swiss Guard didn't see eye to eye, even if they shared a base of operation.Trying to understand more about the situation, I finished rebooting my sensors. Immediately I spotted something rather unusual: far away, hidden in the darkness between the stars, was a floating camera device. Held there by a swirling mass of liquid black metal.Malacoda's power.So that was the game she was playing."I'll contact you soon." I simply stated, then activated the latest addition to my cyberware. Throwing the white cloak to the ground, the plating over my skin began to shift and change colour, spreading over my body like a wave. Within a second the optical camouflage went online, and all that was left of my presence was the white cloak spread over the ground.…and the crater. That too.
■
"Why is it so hard for heroes to be decent people?" Sighing, Taylor muttered."Most are. But you can't become the 'top' hero without having an eye for politics and deceit." I answered, while mixing some sugar in the cappuccino in front of me. Usually I did not bother with food and drinks, but I was admittedly curious about Italy's reputation when it came to these things."Those in power within a system are those that care first and foremost about their power within the system." Taylor answered, probably repeating from a book she'd read. I wasn't familiar with the exact quote, given the divergence in literature between my world and Earth Bet, but I knew the idea behind it."The unfortunate truth. Though not universal." Namely, Cauldron was a rather large exception to the rule. Because of the absolute power those at the top held. There was no playing the system as long as Contessa was around.But even they had their shares of problems internally. Manton came to mind, after Legend had bothered to explain the story behind that to me. Cauldron still kept me in the dark about the process behind the vials, or even their relations to Case 53s, but they did extend to me a modicum of trust."Right. So what's next?""We keep gathering information. The Blasphemies disappeared from our-" Cauldron's "-sight, so I assume they've told us all they could. They're somehow bound to one of the political powers within the city. An individual, rather than an organization, most likely."Taylor thought for a moment, taking a bite out of the pastry in front of her. This was a rather nice café. Not really extravagant, but fancy enough that the food seemed to be particularly good."You can tell me, you know?" I decided to break the ice, looking Taylor straight in the eyes."Sorry?" She feinted ignorance."I know you've just stopped a robbery with one of the Wasps. And that you're trying to hide it by offloading your emotions to the swarm.""...I didn't want to bother you. Interrupt you while we are talking about more important things.""We're doing all this because I want to help people. Do you think I would chastise you for helping someone? I'm not them." Cauldron.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.I had been furious once Contessa revealed to me what they'd done to Brockton Bay. Cutting off outside aid, to allow the city to develop in a feudal parahuman government. Taylor had taken it much better than me - I decided against hiding it from her - but she developed a strong dislike for Cauldron after that."Okay. I'll keep it in mind." Taylor briefly answered, then went back to focusing on something else. Somewhere else.I sighed and tasted my drink.Mh. It was rather bitter. More sugar, then.A ping caught my attention."Lisa just answered." I spoke up. Taylor touched the edge of her glasses and checked the message herself. She had access to almost everything that reached me, and I to what reached her. I still allowed her privacy on anything she didn't want to share, though, which pretty much only included conversations with her father.Taylor briefly held her breath as she read on, then let out a sigh of relief. I also glanced at the text.It seemed that they'd managed to neutralize the Teeth. Regent had been very reluctant to use his power on Butcher, but once the PRT jumped into the picture to make sure he stopped being a threat, it had been an easy thing. With this, the Teeth were done. And the Undersiders gained another weapon against the Heartbroken. Director Piggott was really against allowing them to keep the Butcher, but a direct order from the Chief Director - Alexandria in her civilian identity - put a rest to the issue."...she thinks it's the Pope? A crusade?" Taylor whispered, to herself and to me."You're reading the part Regent wrote, so it's a bit imprecise. But yes, she thinks it's the Pope." What the Pope was doing was described as a 'crusade against the infidels', though later Tattletale said it probably wasn't the case. Maybe it was Imp that wrote that part? I couldn't quite care less."It would make sense. But isn't the Pope, like, ninety? Lisa also says that it doesn't fully fit the profile of whomever is controlling the Blasphemies.""I agree. But I doubt she has the time to check more deeply. She's focused on making sure Noelle doesn't turn into a fourth Endbringer." Cauldron's notes on the matter had been most helpful, especially those written by William Manton. Lisa had found a way to actually put Noelle to sleep indefinitely while she tried to find out how to cure.I wasn't aware of the specific details."And now I'm not sure we should be having this conversation here. In public." Taylor muttered."I've turned off all the microphones nearby since before we sat down, hacking phones and cameras. And I'm rather sure that none of the other customers speak English.""You're probably the most paranoid person I've ever met." Taylor raised an eyebrow."Not true. You met Armsmaster."
■
July 10th. Sunday. Noon. Overlooking St Peter's plaza, Pope John Paul III was delivering the week's prayer, talking about things that I had little reason to listen to. Among the Pontiffs of the past, the current Pope of this world held a very traditionalist view of the world. In fact, the appearance of parahumans on Earth Bet had caused a rather large push towards bigotism in the Catholic Church.All progress that was being made before the arrival of Scion had been quickly made null. The Church had begun to feel threatened in its cultural hegemony by the sudden appearance of metaphorical demi-gods. In other ways, the appearance of parahumans also strengthened the beliefs. After all, if people were able to fly and turn water into wine now, what was to say that someone couldn't have done so in the past? Some even believed that Scion itself was an avatar of the holy trinity.Though the Pontiff himself denied such a thing, holding that parahumans were not connected to the miracles done in the past. Rather, the Endbringers were God's way of testing humanity, and parahumans were the tools he had armed us with, an imitation of true miracles.Religion was inherently a paradox, and more and more difficult to keep up as stronger parahumans changed the world.People around me crossed their hands in prayers, listening intently to the teachings of the Pope. Allowing his hateful views to plant the seed of conflict."Report. Is he a parahuman?" Weaver's voice shook me out of my daze. I was getting distracted more and more."I can't tell. He's too distant, and they've incorporated some tinkertech around the window. Every sensor I have returns jumbled information." I answered, subvocalizing my words so that nobody around me could hear."There is also no bug within the structure, which is deeply concerning. Should I try to sneak some in? At worst they'll get killed.""Proceed. Use only natural bugs, and try to imitate their natural behaviour. Can you see through their eyes?""If I sit still and focus, yes. Entering now."Seconds passed. Seconds turned into minutes.The Pontiff's speech resounded in the air:"[-there are those… Wolves in sheep's clothing. Those that define us as unjust. Define us as a danger…]"Then, after twenty minutes, Weaver spoke again:"Holy shit. Fucking holy - in the most literal sense - shit!"That couldn't mean anything good."[They believe us old. Antiquated. Outdated. But you all know that they're wrong. Do not hate them for this, my children. No, you must pray. Pray especially for them! So that they might find redemption one day! If not in this life, in the next.]""Most of the swarm is dead now. Except the- No. That is gone too. I think they know something is wrong."In that same instant, someone placed a hand on the Pope's shoulder, getting his attention. I couldn't see their lips, so there was no telling what they said to the Pope, but it was worrying enough that he immediately began concluding the speech:"[Keep praying. For us all. Go in peace!]" Then he stepped back, beyond where I could see."What did you see?""The Pope. He's… He's a puppet. A Master is controlling him. Or maybe a Tinker. It can't be him that controls the Blasphemies, because… "He's a corpse. The Pope is dead."Right.It had been too easy so far.