The Vespidian

Arc 12 Villainy 101

Chapter 9

I looked wearily around the metal walls of the former Cyber Swat base. She was nearby, close, and yet part of me was starting to wonder if she was here at all. Is it some sort of illusion, perhaps?

“Ignore her.” Said Molotov leading the way into the installation.

“But-”

Molotov interrupted me, “She is trying to buy time and distract us. If she does reveal herself, then she won’t be able to hide again without fleeing, and she knows damned well we will kill her. Ignore her, and she won’t get any satisfaction out of her efforts.”

“Buying time?” Her words lingered a bit as though she were licking her lips, “Oh, please, you act as if I care about what happens here.”

“Don’t you? Now shut up, you insect.”

The base was mostly undamaged. It was clear that they had been taken entirely by surprise. The doors unlocked on the inside. Other than the blood and servo fluid stains, which appeared mostly cleaned, nothing seemed too out of the usual. That thought quickly faded when we entered the main chamber. The twisted and clawed metal piled up, discarded after all the flesh devoured. Nibbled and sucked out of the hardened shells of armor. It reminded me of crabs, lobsters the leftover shells after a feast.

“That would explain the beacons,” said Xava rather coldly.

“When a monster is on the loose, the small fries will be little more than fodder,” replied Molotov.

“These tin cans?” Cackled Mantia, “My~ My~ They were nice snacks. Though there wasn’t much meat on them, I am afraid I still hunger.”

Where ever she was, she kept close though I couldn’t detect where she was. Frustrating. I could smell her. Hear her. This was much worse than Sheila. At least with her, I could detect her, but with Mantia It was like I was getting false positives. Fleeting movements and sounds that drew my attention only for there to be nothing. There wasn’t even a damned shadow or sound. It as though she was moving without moving?

Ignore her.

“Xava are you sure you can’t see her? Surely there is some sort of anomaly.”

“Of course, she cannot. Unless I decide to reveal myself, there are only two who are more stealthy than I.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Got your attention did I, little Imoto-chan?” she whispered in my antennae.

Oh god, she is a Weeb. Next thing you know, she is going to start ara-araing me.

Boris was the one who replied to my question, “Arachnaon is far more difficult to detect than Mantia as is Jackal, the invisible man. Her stealth is more of camouflage. Whereas you won’t hear Arachnaon, you won’t smell her; you won’t even feel her presence until it is far too late.”

“Mm hmhmhmmm… quite true. It surprises me that you know that much. After all few even know what she looks like. Even fewer have lived to tell others.”

“Arachnaon is getting weak. She is old and dying. It is rather sad really, 200 years spent chasing shadows with nothing to show for it. All her loved ones long since dead. Her dreams turned to dust. Only revenge keeps that old bug moving. Truly the Sanguine Puppeteer is a sinful thing, making that creature obsessed with it. I pity that one and her miserable existence.” Molotov chuckled as she went along, not even glancing at the pile of broken cybernetics.

“Weak? How funny of you, little girl. You say that, yet if she were here, you would be begging for your life, throwing your minions at her in a desperate attempt to slow her down. You are the coward. The one who dances to the strings that it pulls.”

“Nyet, we are all puppets. Pawns. Dolls that the mad god plays with. Free will is only an illusion that it lets us have so that the world is more interesting. It enjoys and revels in the chaos. So do not lecture me about being a slave. You merely serve a different master, but that is no freedom, we are all dancing to the strings that are pulled. You simply think you are resisting but don’t even realize that you are doing just as it wants.”

“Perhaps though the Puppeteer… mmhmhm, it won’t protect you for much longer.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

“Now, why should I spoil the fun? I can hardly wait to see your faces when your god vanishes.”

“Ignore her, Vesper.”

“She is talking ominously, though.”

“Just ignore the mantis, it is simply trying to distract you. Trust me, if there were a way to defeat the Puppeteer, they would have done it long ago.”

Xava approached the glowing panel beside the sealed blast doors into the sewers. Her hand hovered over it as her eyes flicked interfacing with the machine. After a moment, a hiss filled the room, and the vault-like door slides away, opening the sewers below. The stench of fouled waters rushed out into the sterilized installation. Despite our stalker, we proceeded down into the tunnels below the city. The familiar sewer corridors expanded out branching off at intersections. The dank darkness was almost calming. Still, a weight lingered over the stench of rotting and decaying I could still smell Mantia.

“Burnout, flush out the bug.” Said Molotov after the large door rolled into place behind us.

Fire glowed from her hands and erupted as it consumed behind us. It swirled along the ceiling, cascading over and washing before us in a wave of heated death. Rats and other denizens of the sewers screamed as they fled from the advancing flames, those that were not fast enough were devoured and blacked in moments before turning to ashes.

The burning scents of creatures filled my antennae, and the shadows danced on the walls as everything around us was charred. I no longer smelled the sweet odor of that mantis. Did that get her, or did it merely scare her off? As though to answer my thoughts, her voice whispered to me.

“I know what you are, I-M-O-T-O. Little one. Tell me, do you trust them?”

“What does it matter to you?” I said aloud.

“Keep your voice down, or they will question you.”

“Where are you?” I asked.

“Close little sister. I am your ally. It matters to Nee-san because I was sent here to take… you… home.”

“Take me home?”

“Yes, where you belong.”

“Country roads?”

“… Don’t even start with that.”

“Ah, your no fun. Home, huh, you don’t know me.”

“Oh? But I know more about you than you know about yourself.”

“Really now?” I smirked slightly amused over this talk, “Enlighten me, what don’t I know about myself?”

“You are not whole.”

“Yes, I know. Dr. Arbor removed my Vespoidea Cortex so that you couldn’t find me.”

“Is that what they told you?” she laughed. “Half truths at best.”

“How so? The Puppeteer said it. If they are lying, then what does it really do?”

“They crippled you, so long as Dr. Arbor has your Cortex, she can control you.”

“Control me?”

“Yes, little one. Not only did removing it stunt your development, making you dependent upon them, but it also allows her to control you. That one is careful with her experiments to keep them from escaping.”

“Why would she do something like that?”

“She has learned from past mistakes. You were mutilated for your own protection to keep you under the radar.”

“From who?”

“Why the Puppeteer, of course. It is dangerous for you and us.”

“What has the puppeteer done to you?”

“Me personally? Not much. Though I have seen the horrible things, it is capable of.”

“I am on good terms with the Puppeteer.”

“For now. It grows bored of it’s toys very easily. Enjoy your favor while it lasts; it won’t last long. It will sacrifice you as it does all of its pawns for its entertainment.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I am speaking in your interest. Be wary that you do not end up a slave rather than a ruler.”

“Ruler?”

“Oh, beginning to doubt? Does the thought of commanding others tingle your mind? It is a shame you had to be lobotomized, though that is a minor set back. Once you return and reintegrate, you will recover fully.”

“So, what does the Vespoidea Cortex actually do?”

“That is simple. It connects you to… us to… her… Majesty, and the Hive among other things.”

“Who? Hive?”

“I have spoken too much. She is listening.”

I looked around; no one else seemed to be able to hear her. “Who? Who is listening?”

“If you wish to be whole again, seek me out tonight, alone, and we will discuss this at length over what must be done,” her words lingered even after her smell had faded completely.

What do you think, Sub?

It feels like a trap, but I didn’t sense animosity from her. Perhaps we only got half the story from the Puppeteer. After all, I doubt that we would be told something that would cause us to turn on them by them.

So you think we should trust Mantia?

No. But it feels… familiar.

What feels familiar?

Her Majesty. I feel like I have heard that before… but it feels like someone has tampered with our memories. Perhaps we should ask Dr.Arbor herself on this?

Do you think she is up to something?

As I recall, she called us her personal Doomsday weapon. What makes you think she wouldn’t have some form of control for us.

Then we need the Vespoidea Cortex back.

When we get back, we should question her thoroughly on it. I get the feeling she is hiding something.

If she was, wouldn’t the Puppeteer have revealed it?

What makes you think Sanguine is on our side?

Well, it helped us, and we are working for it.

That doesn’t mean we are not disposable pawns to it. I mean, think about it, it is not helping us beat the Hero League at all here, content to watch us pummel each other to death.

That… do we have a choice, though? Besides, it helped us with what Nightmare did.

True… then again, didn’t it admit that is was playing both sides of this conflict? It made Chimera and Kraken.

Just trying to sort through this tangled web is starting to make my head hurt.

We will worry about it after Tecton has been dealt with.

“Xava, begin the thumpers.” Said Molotov leading the way through the underground tunnels.

Xava complied, pressing several buttons on the hologram on her wrist. After a short delay, rhythmic vibrations began to resonate from all around. It was similar to a subwoofer set on the floor and blasting a deep base that sent rippling tremors through the structure. I could even hear the subtle sound waves that were causing this. The distant thud of pistons turning.

“So this will protect us from Tecton?” I asked.

“It will mask our approach. If not, make him retreat.”

“I still don’t like this.” I said.

“He will be a pain no matter where we fight him in the city.”

“True. No real helping it.”

The tunnels were, oddly uneventful. The only thing down here besides us was the rotten sewage and skittering creatures that fled from our presence. I didn’t see anything more substantial than a human fist. Then again, the last time I had been down here, the place had been scoured of mutant life.

Light gleamed from the fractured tunnel ahead. A gaping hole formed leading to the outside. The sun overhead made the shadows short in comparison to usual. Due to our speedy arrival, the Heroes had not yet set up a perimeter around the place that they were using and were still in the process of deploying barricades and cover.

My eyes strained, making out the figures. There were four or so prominent ones while there was a good number of security personnel running about. I recognized most of the more important people. It appeared that Light Fly, Tecton, Armadillo, and Strong Arm were here. Tecton being the most significant threat, and Armadillo being the least threatening.

They had taken the high ground of the crater, the place that Sunshine had spared from the hammer strike. Such a thing was aggravating to me. They had no right to use that place.

We stayed in the shadow of the sewer tunnel, assessing their position. It wouldn’t be easy to attack, and the longer that we waited, the harder it would be to take. Molotov checked something on her overlay before nodding.

“Vesper, you are good at digging, right?”

“I, I am, why?”

Molotov smiled, “Excellent. Dig us right into the middle of them.”

“I am not that accurate. We would probably pop up early or late.”

“I will direct you, Vesper,” said Xava, her eyes glowing and a detailed map of the terrain before us hovering above her wrist.

“If you insist.” I said wearily.

I raised my fist and slammed it down, shattering the concrete below us. Though the blow was loud, it was significantly muffled by the tunnel and drowned out by the thumping. My claws began to shovel and dig ripping through the soft soil at a rather quick pace. Before long, I had submerged and begun excavating my way through the underground. All four of my arms clawed and scooped, gouging out the dirt as my feet crushed it underfoot. Molotov followed along compacting the earth to make it easier for the rest to follow along behind.

Xava paused me for a moment as she lined everything up on the map. We were directly below the Heroes. With a nod, I tunneled up. The shaft of concrete and rock was more challenging to push through, but I didn’t need to go too far. We were not going all the way to them; we were destroying their vantage point. I dug nearly to the end of breaking out of the top and returned. With a final nod from Molotov, Burnout entered the tube, and we sealed her in. We packed in dirt and concrete the keep the impending blast at bay.

Burnout hardly waited before the ground rumbled from her ignition. After a brief moment, a loud boom echoed in the deep. The soil surged up. Molten earth erupted through our barricade, and I shoveled more dirt in the way as I tunneled up to the surface. The rumble of the explosion had ceased, and now it was the creaking and crashing of earth above. From the sounds of it, the tower was tilted to the side and collapsing after having the support blown out. The sweet air was short-lived as the shadow of the plateau tilted. It leaned, and surprised voices echoed from the top as it slanted completely and fell over scattering dust and debris in a small cloud.

We emerged from the hole surveying the crater before us. The ground leveled with molten lava burning in places as Burnout hovered in place, her wings of fire slowly flapping as she faced where the earth had fallen.

“Attack! Don’t give them time to recuperate.” Shouted Molotov rushing forward along with Boris.

My wings flapped, lifting me above the charred craters below and giving me a better view of the destruction. The flames and smoke obscured where the Heroes had fallen. Something felt… wrong. My back eye gaped sensing danger. A woman in pure white had put herself directly before the sun. My eye watered blinking as it tried to see her correctly. Light Fly. If she was up here, then did they expect our attack? Or was she just fast to react?

My thoughts shifted instantly, as I flapped to throw myself to the side. A beam of scalding light shot out of her extended hands. I spiraled to the side to avoid it, not fast enough as it grazed my leg. The carapace bubbled and melted from the extreme heat. Below, the ground turned into blacked glass.

Not exactly surprising that something moving at the speed of light would hit. I was certainly at a disadvantage here. A long-range attacker that can fly was terrible for me. Luckily for me, Burnout had come roaring over. A sea of fireballs crested towards Light Fly, forcing her to shift her location. The two seemed evenly matched as Burnout was clearly cracked out of her mind. Her eyes were bulging and bloodshot while she locked a fire beam with Light Fly’s beam causing them to explode halfway between the two.

Seeing Light Fly handled, the others would need help. Below the fighting had already begun and was escalating. Arm Strong and Boris exchanged blows that would shatter normal humans as though they were nothing. Impacts resounded in deafening thuds and shock waves that scattered the dust in the area, clearing it.

Xava tried her best to fight Armadillo. Her mechanical limbs were creaking as they held him back with her riot shield. He rolled into a ball spinning on the ground and shot at her. The durable plasteel shattered, knocking her to the ground. It was clear who I needed to help here. She was a support after all, not really meant to be fighting toe to toe, at least not without her giant robo scorpions or other such machines. We simply didn’t have the luxury of bringing such things through that portal.

My wings arched as I dived toward my target. The ball rolled about the ground, doubling back to crush my robo wife. Like a hawk snatching a fish from a fast-flowing river, my talons crashed into the spinning sphere. Smoke rose as my carapace burned. Sparks were grinding, scattering until finally, I managed to stop his momentum. My talons sunk into the metal of the ball, clutching it as I flapped, dragging him up into the air with me.

My eyes drifted over to where Molotov was pushing Tecton back, forcing him to use the earth as a shelled. Each blow shattered the wall between them and causing the Terrakinetic to flee further from his allies. Still, he was strong. With one hand, he held Molotov at bay, and with the other, he reached back. There was a moment where it wasn’t clear what he had done, but a rumbling made it evident what he had done. A Skyscraper overlooking, the crater tilted and shifted cascading down as it came crashing toward Molotov.

“Put me down!” he shouted at me.

“Okie dokie~” I spun around, gaining speed as I circled above the battlefield.

Despite the fact that we were spinning at a sickening pace, due to my eyes seeing in all directions at once, the world merely turned. My target selected I clutched Armadillo in and kicked out, sending him rocketing out like a meteor. He slammed into the skyscraper, the impact changing the trajectory of the building as it came crashing down to the side.

Dust stormed up, cloaking the ground below in brownish grey. The cement and metal turned to dust from the impact. My attention shifted to the gleaming lady of white that was getting the upper hand on Burnout. Apparently, they were not evenly matched. I suppose laser beams beat fire. In terms of raw firepower they were close, the issue appeared to be the fuel economy. Burnout was running out of juice. Which meant she needed another hit to stay in this.

I didn’t have any drugs, but I could be a good distraction. In fact, one would say that was my forte, the meat shield. I darted up, taking the high ground. Though I did not rise higher than the buildings, my eyes watching the Citadel wearily. Those anti-everything guns were facing in this direction, after all. Best not make myself a target. Light Fly, well, she didn’t see me coming. Not like she had eyes on the back of her head, we can’t all be alien wasp women.

As I recalled Molotov’s “Russian Death Techniques,” it was more of a clawing, raking motion with my talons where my legs jabbed out and dragged with the sharpened claws ripping flesh before snapping shut and squeezing my prey to death if they did not get severed into smaller pieces. Light Fly took a full open clawed slash to the back. The sheer force of the blow threw her down out of the air. Her body plummeted into the ground below where a puff of dust rose.

I stared, looking between the downed hero and my talons that snapped empty air. Weak? Eh, eh, wait, that isn’t how that is supposed to happen. That was too easy. It must be a clever ruse, a devious ploy to lull me into a false sense of security. I am onto you! I mean, everybody beats my ass, and these are like the best of the best of the Hero League. The Cream of the Crop. The creme de le creme. The vive la resistance…

Keep it simple stupid. Focus.

Ah right, right, thanks, Sub.

Although wasn’t Light Fly one of the weaker ones? She was a rank 7, I believe of the attacker type that has very little defense. In terms of gaming, she was the stereotypical glass cannon ranged build that got obliterated by face tanking warrior types or other glass canons, more or less depending on who hit who first. Ah, well, no wonder she got creamed. Oh… Oh, is she dead?

NOOoooO Muh babies with laser beams!

I dived quickly, descending to the small crater where Light Fly lay. She was not doing so hot. Her arms were twisted, mangled with fractures from where she had attempted to cushion her landing. Her left leg was kinda facing the wrong way too. I bent over, the once white spandex-clad hero. She was now dyed red and brown from her blood and the soil. My antennae poked at her, smelling and hearing her chest and neck. She was eh breathing at least. Granted, she most definitely unconscious and in shock.

Looking over her beaten body, I was genuinely surprised that she had not been sheered into pieces from my talon. The costume must have very high defensive stats. I mean, there wasn’t a scratch on her tights, it was more of her insides got pulped from the unbridled smack-down. Blunt weapons were typically better against thicker armor. What with the kinetic impact shocking into the squishy body hiding in that shell.

With her arms like that, she certainly wasn’t going to be firing off any laser beams. I pinched her hood, lifting her limp body from the ground. She not dead yet, so maybe she can be saved? My eyes scanned across the battlefield, which had decidedly turned our favor now that the Heroes were short one main attacker. They were outnumbered, though they had regrouped and were putting up a struggle. I found my shining cyborg nurse repairing her arm that had been ripped off when the shield had been destroyed.

“Xava, can you stabilize her?” I asked, scuttling across the cratered ground.

My cranky robot lover sighed, staring at the bloody mess in my hand. “Oh,” she said, surprised, “Good job Vesper, you took out Light Fly.”

“Yeah-”

“You want to take her back… for breeding purposes, correct?”

“MmmMmm, you know me well,” I nodded.

“Of course you do. Alright, let me see the organic meat bag.”

That was a little mean. She still a people, right? Well, maybe not after we are done with her. I lower her and Xava jabbed her with a syringe, her blood foamed and bubbled as it congealed, “That will stop the bleeding and stabilize her for now. I can check the extent of the damage later. We need to finish up before the main force arrives.”

Xava had her hands full, so I opened my vent and pressed Light Fly in against my squishy flesh. After a moment, my carapace closed airtight, locking her. Organic pockets are nice.

Hmmm, is it just me, or did an ominous sense of doom just creep up my spine? I spied with my little eyes a shadow. Looking up to where that figure emanated, there was something awfully familiar about that shape, that outfit. A particular pin-up calendar came to mind as I gazed into that hooded abyss of a galaxy staring down at us. I knew those star-studded titties anywhere.

Ah… Miss Universe. I don’t wanna ride the pony.