Seth sat at his desk, the Ark piece under a probing hand. He wanted to get a better idea of what this metal fully was, how he could work with it, use it. He didn’t get help from the Garkah, a mutual agreement, he wanted to learn for himself instead of having everything told to him. He felt deep into the metal’s structure. The power he received from the abyss gave him considerably more control over not just the physical force of electricity, but the electrons that caused it. These electron threads, the key threads that glued the Ark together and that gave him his power. He understood a little about them, got some idea of what the Garkah did to create them. Normal electrons repel each other, things with negative charge don’t like other things with negative charge. If a free electron were to pass from one atom to another, either that electron would continue on or one of the atom’s original electrons would be repelled away, continuing the cycle. That’s what electricity is on a basic level, but the Garkah found a way to break that cycle.

They found a way to make negative charges attract, causing electrons to group up instead of spread out. Seth theorized they resonated them somehow, similar to the key thread, and this caused the altering of the electrons. Whatever they did, they used this process to spin and weave threads from these altered electrons, fusing them together and creating one of the thinnest bindings ever imagined. But it does have issues, namely the fact that these altered electrons will disrupt other electrons. If they’re too energetic, their resonance can spread to other atoms, specifically all the electrons surrounding them. This will cause the atomic structure of anything situated too close to them to break down and disintegrate, the outer layer of the atom and one of its main means of connecting taken away. Though Seth barely understood what that really meant beyond disintegration. But apparently the Garkah found a way to work around that as well.

Looking deep in, the metal that made up the Ark was completely alien to Earth. Seth was very sure he couldn’t replicate. But what really took the cake was the fact it was formed by hand, or… claw. Its atomic structure was manufactured and immensely stable, to the point that it would not break when subjected to these altered electrons. In fact it could contain them perfectly and act as a sheath.

The actual structure of the piece in his hands was twofold, a series of ever thinning sheets of the metal that terminated in the sharp jagged edges Seth was making sure not to cut himself on, and a circuit like core that ran braided metal lines through the sheets. Each piece that the Ark split into was like an individual relay, substations for the electron threading that ran through it. The threads of fused electrons would slot in those braided lines, drawing them taut and pulling the sheets up like atomic shutters. Once these shutters opened they would slot in to other neighboring pieces and create the whole of the Ark. But the vacuum spaces between the now raised sheets also served a purpose. The metal was highly conductive, and the vacuum meant there was nothing for the free electrons to get attracted to, so the gaps kept the circuits from shorting due to their extreme proximity. These circuits in turn created a massive super computer that Seth sure as shit couldn’t understand, but he knew it allowed for the Garkah to become what they are now and get here in the end. But he found something else, the core of this piece was melted, the braided lines were intact but the circuit hub oozed down from an overload of energy. Threat’s energy. The old scars will forever haunt the Garkah. But in the end it at least meant Seth could theoretically form the metal with enough energy. He just had to work out the structure he was going to go with. ‘*sigh*… And now I’m regretting not asking for help.’

Seth took up his suit, copper connectors and parts of the gel layer were melted beyond repair. He spent the better part of two days clearing the inside of the suit, scraping the copper and pulling out what gel was left so he could put Ark metal under it. Thankfully the metal proved malleable rather quickly, its makeup was similar to the alloy the Garkah created for his suit, just quite a bit denser and more substantial. A little bit of the right kind of power was all it took to cleave pieces off and render it like really hard clay, but he was still stuck theorizing a useful structure to form it into. Just lining the inside with the metal would do little other than add extra weight and armor, it wouldn’t be utilized fully. Recreating the braided sheaths that the Ark had presented some success, but it was stiff and had to be loosened at the joints. Then he thought of his own electron threads, the ones the abyss’ power gave him.

Seth focused, felt around for the threads under his skin, coating his muscles, waiting… humming. They were humming, the resonance on them was audible… to him at least. But it was a different resonance than the key thread. Seth felt deeper, these weren’t just single line threads either. These were cords, twisted and braided cords of altered electrons that resonated… but didn’t propagate that resonance. They just hummed in unison. But there had to be more to it, so he deepened his focus. He almost couldn’t see it at first, but there were frays in the cord. A few threads would break off, spread out and connect to everything nearby. They wrapped around every structure, every cell, every organ.

Seth switched his focus outward, looked at more of the whole picture. The threads covered everything that made up his body, some feeding normal metabolic systems with spare electrons, others forming webs under and over things that needed to be protected… or healed back. He closed in tight and felt a line at its very end. It was whipping around, the cell it held died and split open. Suddenly what was left disintegrated under the line, base elemental debris spreading out, but then reforming. The framework pulling tight over the base pieces, extra material brought through the cord to replace what broke to begin with. The line straightened out and the cell reformed, all wrapped in electron thread. This really was what the Laceroids were made from, a framework electron lattice that healed and empowered them. Why the hell did… ‘Why did I never look at myself like this before?’ “Because you’re not as vain as the proper Garkah.”

Threat had broken the self-imposed silence. “Welcome to the world of Garkah biology, next stop, self-mutilation and peer pressured alteration.” ‘…I- I can alter myself with this?’ “Oh crap. Don’t get any funny ideas. One slip up or wrong protein and you could kill yourself painfully and slowly.” Seth felt Threat’s bias here, though it didn’t seem unwarranted. Pulling a few of his memories from the abyss, it seemed the Garkah liked to alter themselves based on trends… ‘Heh, who needs designer jeans when you can design yourself?’ “It’s a bad road to go down. They used it as a status symbol, if you’re powerful or skilled enough to alter yourself in extravagant ways, you’re pretty damn high on the social ladder as well. Thankfully that’s died down since everyone’s just made of energy now and theres no consequences.” “You should have seen it with your own eyes.” Speaker finally piped in, a longing reminiscence in his voice that Seth had almost never heard before. “I used to spackle shimmering gold and silver on my scales, like a living primordial vain. Oh and the females, they colored theirs with such pearlescent hues. It was…” Speaker stopped, feeling a lot of jealous and disappointed eyes on him. Threat seemed to smirk. “There’s the vanity I remember.” Speaker turned away, his embarrassment was almost adorable.

Seth drew back his focus, he wanted the complete picture of what he had. The electron cord spread out over his entire body, like a second infinitesimal nervous system and circulatory system rolled into one. The brightest spot though was in his brain. A central hub maybe? The cords attached to sections of his brain, sections Seth was kind of sure weren’t normal for humans. One tacked on to the part that handled memory, another to his emotional areas, and another was just sat right in the center between hemispheres. ‘I guess those are some ‘additions’ that allow me to control this power?’ “*cough* Yes.” Speaker had cleared his embarrassment. “Those are special transfer nodes that allow your brain to influence your power, how else would you control all this? The key part is that central one. It is where the thread is weaved and disseminated out from.”

Seth looked closely. He saw surrounding sections of his brain light up with nerve activity, but that activity fed straight into the center… center…? ‘I’m just going to call it the weaver organ.’ The weaver attached to nearby nerves and took in the free electrons that the nerve signals passed along. It then imparts that stable hum on to them with what looks like… ‘More Ark metal?’ “Yes, it is a considerable rare but a natural occurrence on our world, and is what gave us this power in the first place. We had to synthesize a copy of it for the Ark, that natural structure was quite… intricate.” Rings of Ark metal, small enough to pull electrons through effectively, exist in the weaver. As they go through, the rings were spun and vibrated to create the resonant hum. There are also a few lines that attached to the rings, braiding and keeping the hum constant as the cord is formed.

Seth refocused elsewhere, his hand. He pulled up power in to it, intent of understanding just how it occured. His hand flared, the hum changed as the cord seemed to bulge around his focus points, freeable electrons massed and humming a different tune, his tune. ‘So… my power is all about electron resonance.’ “Yes. Though there is nuance in it. Each of us has a different resonance, but they are all fairly similar. Our main difference is how strong and stable it is, whether we can change it ourselves on the fly and maintain it for as long as we need. This is what we call the Discipline path of our power. One that is trained and focused on to bring out its potential. But... in the end that is only one side.” “The other… being mine.”

Threat felt worried, that passive guilt manifesting. “My energy came with a resonance you already know, it’s the one in the Ark key thread, the one that’s too strong for its own good. My kind… subscribe to the Wrath path of this power, and are the original creators of that resonance. Though not by choice.” Seth felt Threat’s memories again, flashes of lessons on Garkah like him. “We have more Ark metal in our systems than normal, which causes us to have more connectors in our brains. That part that’s connected to the ‘emotional centers’ of your brain, that’s one from me. It causes your power to be influenced by emotions more prominently. The greater the emotion, the closer you’ll get to reaching that resonance that siphons. You’ll start to pull in energy from everything around you. If you’re in control enough you can pick and choose, but lose yourself and you will become a black hole… another abyss.” Threat felt sad, worried, and remorseful. A lifetime's worth of guilt weighing down his words. “Don’t end up like me kid. I… I don’t think I could handle being the cause of anymore death.” Seth stopped focusing. ‘You are not at fault, and you will not be at fault if anything happens! You understand!? I’ve got this either way, I can keep myself. You just make sure you have proper introductions in order. Even if it takes decades, I will make sure you earn my people’s trust. And I will get you your bodies back.’ Seth sat back in his chair, chunks of worked Ark metal strewn about on his table. He’d done enough for today, and there was still two weeks till graduation.

Over the next week, between faked training sessions, Seth tested every possible means of integrating the metal into his suit. There wasn’t enough material for anything substantial, but maybe he didn’t need all that much. Seth took up a hunk of Ark metal he’d sheared off to practice with. Thinking back to what the Garkah told him of his biology, he realized he didn’t need vast amounts of material to get what he needed. Seth pinched at the metal, focusing on it as far in as he could. Once he felt a hold, he pulled. The metal followed like a pulled bedsheet, perfect material to cut and shape. As the sheet came free of its metal layer, he snapped it flat so he could work. Taking a finger he circled the center of the sheet, cutting a hole. Then a bigger hole around that. He took up the doughnut shape and bent it around, folding it in on itself to become a complete ring. It was probably still way too big, his fingers aren’t the best manual tools for atomic construction, but it was a start.

Seth ended the voluntary silence and ran his idea through the Garkah. They helped him refine and form Ark metal rings like the ones in his head, the ones that weave and stabilize the electron thread. These were then placed across the suit, melted into the plates like supports. He had more than enough to reinforce his entire suit with these relays, using the excess to coat the inside and augment the capacitor plates so they wouldn’t meltdown. The inside of the suit was now matte black under the reapplied gel layer, the iron filings replaced with Ark metal as well. ‘Hopefully the metal passes as just terrestrial, wouldn’t make sense for it to be Ark metal anyway right?’

Seth still had one more thing to do, run and wrap electron threads through the rings. The problem was he was going to need power and time to focus, two things he couldn’t get together. He can’t commit to this kind of heavy work in his room, he’ll be pulling a lot of energy in and people will wonder why his room was bent inward and all the lights are busted. The arena was the obvious choice, but he won’t get lucky twice with only getting caught by his allies. He’ll have to be discerning, bide his time on this one. But he only has a week and a half left. ‘What the hell am I going to-’ *bam bam bam*

Someone was banging against his door before it opened automatically, after he released his power lock on it. It’s… Kabar? “Para’s calling everyone to the arena, come on!” He was off before Seth could wonder what this is about. More banging, he was going door to door. What the hell would require this kind of urgency without pinging the terminals, from Para no less? Doesn’t matter, he had to get going. But- ‘I swear to god if this is some stupid shakedown.’

The trainees filed into the arena once again, most in varying stages of dress. It wasn’t early, but not everyone had morning training this month so only a few were in their gear. Para didn’t look pissed off at least, so this wasn’t some kind of punishment. In fact he seemed a little pleased, which was probably an even worse sign. “Alright recruits, it is truly your lucky day. Just about every hero on station is busy, exhausted, or unsuited for what is occurring. About five minutes ago some dipshits robbed a bank downtown as it opened. They’ve taken the morning rush of customers hostage. But the real issue is these morons are heavily armed, and I don’t mean some namby-pamby standard issue crap. These guys have grenades, launchers, reports are saying an antitank gun. These fools came loaded to kill heroes, and ended up choosing the time when none are available. So, WE are the only ones who can deploy in time to stop this from getting worse. Each of your trainers have given you the green light to start patrols by now, so this is not out of the question. Now, get dressed and prepped then head down to the loading dock, elevator 5. We’ll take one of the UTAHs and I’ll explain our plan on the way.”

Most of the trainees looked pumped, Seth included, they were finally getting to do real hero work. They started to file off as Para walked up, stopping Seth before he could leave with everyone else. “Not you.” Para’s tone had shifted completely back to his dismissive old self. Seth was having none of it. “The fuck is that supposed to mean!” “It means someone doesn’t have a trainer to sign off on their progress, someone to say they ‘deserve’ to be a hero.” Seth’s expression practically ignited, but Para just kept walking away under his glare. The complete dismissal only adding fuel to the fire.

Seth slammed the automatic door to his room, but quickly tried to calm down properly. This was a perfect chance to thread his suit, everyone would be away and focused on the bank. But… "FUCK!! I can’t fucking stand this stupid shit!!" His anger was locking the Garkah out, but he felt them try to calm him down as well. Seth took a second to breathe, it wasn’t enough to calm him, but it successeded in tightening his resolve. ‘You know what… fuck it! I’m going, whether he likes it or not!’ Seth shot his focus out, followed the Hill’s cameras to the loading dock in question. A few trainees were already lining up outside the elevator. He probably wouldn’t have been allowed on anyway, but then again, he didn’t need an elevator. He snatched up his freshly coated suit, he could thread it later. ‘It’s time to go to work.’

Seth changed into the connector suit he’d neglected for a while and snapped into his armor. The Garkah made ancillary checks to see if the upgrades were good enough, but Seth was leaving one way or the other. Stomping out into the periphery, he headed straight for the main entrance, knowing exactly where the loading dock let out. The receptionist Felicia watched over her tablet as he stormed through the lobby and out the door, some bit of buried fear causing her to duck behind it reflexively.

Seth ignored her hooked sharply to the right and ran to the outside walkways that surrounded the building. Rounding the Hill’s main hall, skipping past the empty landing platforms, and stopping at a spot between hubs. The Hill was just a massive façade of dirt and turf, from here he could run/slide/descend violently down to the loading docks below without having to run the entire base of the Hill in a vain hope of beating the trainees there. After a few testing moves he hopped the railing and angled to meet the grassy façade as best he could, but weight was a heavy factor. Landing hard, his heels dug an ugly rut into the now obviously fake grass, sliding him to a controllable speed before he leaned over and started running down the Hill. The grade wasn’t ridiculously steep, but he reached terminal velocity rather quickly. Deciding against impacting whatever was at the bottom like a metal meteorite, he shifted his stance and slid to a more manageable speed. A few ugly ruts on the non-public side of the Hill shouldn’t hurt things right?

The concrete tunnels that formed the loading docks finally brought his slide to a halt, only a few dry dirt clods and a bit of astroturf to shake off his feet. Another quick check and he leapt and turned over the concrete lip, latching on to it before leaving it behind so he could observe what was below. The docks were massive garage doors, the key land hub for the Hill’s logistics. A few trailers were hitched and unloading cargo onto their respective docks on the sides. A massive door dominated the center, the main garage for the League’s land transports, the UTAH. Urban Tactical Armored Hauler. Beefy, bombproof, and more than likely bad for the planet. Seth locked his suit arm to stay in place and waited for the trainees’ UTAH to leave so he could follow them.

In no time an alarm sounded over the central door as it rose to let a UTAH leave. It was a drab grey, its body more like the hull of a boat than a truck, but it ran on six independently steered wheels on heavy duty swiveling motors. Like a military shopping cart. Seth let the UTAH pass under him before releasing the suit’s grip and falling down to the asphalt below. He landed with a definite crunch, thankfully the asphalt was laid out here like gravel just for this purpose. Not very economical to need to replace concrete every time a hero needed to land down hard. The UTAH crunched off onto the road surrounding the Hill, the sound of tires being smooshed over loose road the only thing produced. ‘Huh, maybe it’s not so bad for the planet after all?’ Seth dropped down into a sprinter's stance and kicked off after it, tracking a few bits of asphalt as he followed the UTAH’s path. Before it could reach the public street in front of the Hill he caught up to it, power focused in his legs and distributed between the suit and the threads there. Also the UTAH wasn’t going very fast yet.

As he reached tailgating distance the rear assault door slammed open, a very perturbed Para standing straight up in the door frame. “What the HELL do you think you’re doing Tinman!?!” Audible over the rush of air, hell probably audible from across town, he was pissed. Seth smirked and popped his helmet open, knowing he would hear over the steadily increasing noise. “Just going for a jog around town. Since I’m off the Hill and all, I probably need a chaperone? Do you mind?” Para could hear everything, judging from the defeated yet extra pissed off look he was giving. “RRgh! Fine! But YOU are not entering combat you understand!?!” “Loud and clear!!” Seth was beaming before flashing a wicked smile and slamming his helmet shut.

He powered passed the UTAH and looked around for the nearest metal coped roof he could use to escape traffic. He mockingly saluted the drivers before dropping down and rocketing over to the nearest building. Metal claws latched onto the heavy metal coping as friction sparks flew and armored boots ran across the building’s hardened facade. It was just like the old days, though really it had only been two and a half months. He hooked the corner, bending it a little with sheer weight, but pressing it back down as he pulled into it and switched latching arms. Like a steel gargoyle he watched the UTAH storm down the cleared thoroughfare in front of the Hill before turning sharply off of it, a string of orange alarm lights popping up and down along the route it was taking. Seth shifted and released his latch as he leapt to follow from his higher route.

Quickly he regained parity with the UTAH again, watching as it rumbled down the center of the road between rows of displaced cars. Out ahead of it the wave of hazard lights rose up to warn traffic to turn off the road while traffic lights turned green to clear the way and stop more cars coming in. Far ahead Seth could see rising puffs of smoke, quickly reaching ear shot for the cause. The harsh blasts of heavy ordinance, the strung together cracks of automatic fire, the ‘SHIT!!!’ *SSSHHHHOOOOOOOoooooooo*

Seth ducked and slammed onto the low roof top he was crossing, just in time to avoid an unexpected streak of full metal death directed straight at him. He shook off the shock of really getting shot at and took a moment to collect himself. ‘Fuckers have a goddamn 50 millimeter.’ He remembering back to a few military spec suits he’d worked on. Basically gun carriers for this kind of firepower. He took a breath and poked his head up and shot it back down before whoever was firing could reacquire him, deciding quickly to roll to the side again because the metal coping and concrete lip of this building weren’t going to stop that thing. No second shot rang out though as Seth used his suits ocular sensors to full effect. Slowing their recording down to get a glimpse at what could be seen.

The bank was facing this direction, set back from the street by a moderately full parking lot. The surrounding intersection was walled off by massive bollards, another defensive mechanism put into much of the city’s infrastructure, Seth was just unlucky to be visible above them. The bank was occluded by smoke, but Seth caught a scope glint on its left side. ‘Be kind of nice if I still had that recon unit.’ Seth flipped over and stayed low below the lip, crawling over to a more occluded side of the building and climbing off. He cracked the concrete next to a few startled drivers stuck at the red light, giving them a light wave as he started running back to the street to follow the UTAH.

Seth picked back up to speed as he saw the UTAH slow and spin on its axis, wheels turning the whole thing about so the assault door faced a prepared police line. He skipped to a less destructive halt just as the UTAH rumbled to a stop, assault door slamming open. Para jumped out and waved the trainees out of the truck. “Alright, line up!!” Knowing he’s not officially part of it, but feeling cheeky nonetheless, Seth took his place at the end of the lineup as always.

Para went straight over to the police line, meeting a captain who looked to be directing the response. “Captain McMathews, your support is here as requested.” The police captain, wearing fully militarized flak armor in navy blue and black, looked over at the trainees as a blast rocked the wall behind him. His expression read like he was just flipped off. “Para, what the hell is this? I ask for heavies and you bring a bunch of kids!” The captain scanned down the line. “Sorry sir, short notice, this is the only team we could deploy within the hour. But these trainees have-” “TRAINEES!?!” “Yes sir. But these trainees are a week from graduation. They’ve trained for harder scenarios than suped up bank robbers. They’re prepared for this.” ‘…I don’t know whether to feel complimented or concerned that Para thinks we’re all ready for whatever this fully was?’ Another heavy shot rang out over the wall, a section shaking to the dismay of the officers gathered next to it. The captain was unfazed, his face too slammed into his palm. “Aragh! We’ll take ‘em, but they better understand just what the hell they’re walking into?”

Seth smirked as he quickly popped his helmet and stepped forward, a *thump* sounding from over the other side of the wall. “Sir! *BOOM* 40 millimeter rotary grenade launcher with 6 round drum! *KrKrKrzingzing* 12.7 heavy belt fed machinegun with 200 round box. *SSSHHHOOOOAAAMMM* 50 millimeter hypervelocity, armor piercing, shoulder mounted cannon with 5 round external feeder magazine.” Seth took a step back into line. The captain looked taken aback and Para was pissed, though that was expected. Seth kept the smug feeling he was having down so he wouldn’t make things worse. “You said I couldn’t be in combat, you didn’t say I couldn’t support sir.” Para’s expression deepened, but was stunned as the captain approached the line, headed straight for Seth. “Son, how in the hell do you know what they're firing?” “I’ve done plenty of military contracts to know what suit mounted ordinance sounds like sir.” The captain was less than enthused, but appeared relieved. “Alright Para you’re on!”

Para twisted his neck in unmitigated displeasure, but continued on his spiel. “What’s the situation on the other side then sir?” “We have about 5 confirmed hostiles inside the bank, around 15 hostages, and 2 officers stuck on the other side of that wall." *BOOM* "We can’t pull them out without some serious cover, and we only have a few hits left on that block before it gives out and these bastards are back to taking pot shots at traffic.” “Who are we dealing with?” “Hell if I know. No demands, no monologues, we don’t even know if they’re even looting the vault. All we know is they’re heavily armed and looking to kill supers. That’s the running theory at least.” “What’s the terrain like?” “The lot’s been blown to hell, cars and bits are spread out every which way. Our officers are behind a good chunk of them, their cruiser is on its side giving them what cover there could be from-" *SSHHHAAAKKKK* "THAT!! Fucking thing!” The captain’s nerve finally seemed to falter as Para stepped back and thought through the intel. “Okay, we can handle this from here.”

He swiveled back to the lineup, meeting quite a few concerned faces as another strafe of machinegun fire raked the wall. “I know you’re scared, this is real, and you’re liable to get hurt. But that’s the job. Suck it up and listen. Combo Breaker, we need walls on demand. Thicker the better. Princess, be ready to pull people out if things get bad, but set up to catch those grenades till then. Tabby, Butterknife, you’re our extractors, you’ll be sent in to grab those officers. Snowcone, we’ll need an ice slide to their position. Waterboy, Toaster, we need steam clouds for cover. Polo, keep those clouds over our extractors. Green Thumb, Ditto, you’re on recon. Fly to the other side of the bank and over to the roof. Ditto, I know you learned enough from Marvelous to copy her, we need unseen eyes on the hostages. Clarence, Kaze, you’re on standby while recon is scouting. Once we know the situation you’ll be set to cut power and run interference for the hostages.” The trainees lost all the apprehension they had before, a continuous look of determination across the line up. ‘Damn… I feel kind of left out.’

Para shifted back to the captain. “We need an opening. Preferably one in line with the officers.” “Already there.” The captain turned and pointed over to the right side, through a marked up alleyway around the corner building leading to the other street. “I’ll call ahead for the bollard, you just make sure everyone is clear.” The trainees all moved out as Para waved them along behind him over to the other street. Seth followed along at the end, just in case. The police captain eyed him as he passed, radio up to his ear relaying the situation. ‘Guess even the cops don’t care for suits, though given what’s happening I can understand.’

The other street was thronged with heavy SWAT units waiting to be called, similar flak armor to their captain in more obvious black. A few crowded a block like it was a door set to be breached. Para took command immediately. “Alright clear the lane! We’re opening the bollard!” The officers moved away, setting up deeper in and moving away from the building the trainees just circumvented. Once that wall dropped it was going to be in prime range for the fifty millimeter. Para turned back around, looking at each of his trainees lined up based on their rolls like they knew them perfectly. Seth stayed a ways back, watching with the support teams. Para slammed a hand on the wall. “This is the real deal! No take backs! No second chances! Are you ready!?” A resounding “YES SIR!!” came from everyone, even Ohm. 'Well... now I just feel out of place.' He pulled a finger to his ear to click an acknowledge button on an ear piece set inside, a few others spread about among the set teams. Suddenly the bollard shook and slowly began to pull down into the street.

The trainees prepped as it agonizingly rumbled its retreat. Maya clenched her hands, feeling the asphalt she was going to build with. David was collecting water and forming a flow to Kabar, who had his hands heated up to crazy levels to super heat the water to steam. Marco was cycling air to pull that steam out on to the battlefield. Cleo was a ways back, ready to watch for grenades, flash catch, and redirect them with her straps. Jacob had a prepped water ball from David for the ice slide. Razor was hyperventilating next to Tabby in the form of a cheetah. His expression didn’t hide anything as he darkly smiled and turned to Cleo. “Hey Cleo, could you make that armor for me again? I’m starting to miss it.” Tabby bopped him in the shoulder. “You really think all that leather is going to protect you from that.” *SSSSHHHHEEEAAAMMM* Razor quickly went back to hyperventilating. Zeleny and Alex were already over the bank, Alex copying Marvelous as a red cloud of smoke and hovering down on to the roof. Zeleny stayed up and spotted for Cleo. It seemed like Ohm and Kaz were already headed to the bank’s breaker box and looking for a side entrance.

All cards in place, the bollard finally locked down, the crosswalk it took away forming back over it. Like a deep starting bell, it thunked in to place and Maya went to work. She pulled both arms low and dragged them up, pulling a mass of asphalt and underlying concrete up into a new wall to fill the gap. Once half as high as the old wall, she took a heavy step forward and pressed her right hand against it like she was opening a door. The wall gave and slammed open, swinging out onto the battlefield just as- *SSSHHHAAAKkkk*

The door took a direct hit, smashing apart as a relatively fat kinetic round obliterated it. It was almost too fast to perceive, the round skimming the bollard door frame and bashing a hole into the wall of the corner building. Brick and mortar turned to dust as the round slammed through into the alley way everyone just went through. The trainees were buffeted by a shower of obliterated road, Maya hesitating as she looked at how close her hand came to being another casualty. What perception and sudden shellshock that had slowed things down sped back up as Para screamed. “KEEP GOING!!!”

Maya snapped back in, reforming the material that was just obliterated and adding more onto it. *SSSHHHAAAAAKkkk* Another shot and it was rubble, the round ricocheting off the inside wall and imbedding in the other street’s bollard wall. “THICKER!!!” Maya tried again, more material, more thickness. *SSHHHAAAKKKANGGG* Another round bashed through, the sudden materialization of a kinetic round sticking into the bollard door frame like an overweight arrow gave the trainees another dose of shellshock. Its rocket motors sputtering as Maya was showered in more rubble. “MORE!!!”

Maya finally snapped. “AARRAGH FUCK!!! THIS!!! SHIIIIIITTTT!!!” She slammed a hand to the ground and swept it right at the bollard that had been giving everyone cover. A spray of material through its base signaled clearly she had just cut right through it. In the same motion she side stepped and slammed her hands into it, burying them in and grabbing hold of the whole fucking thing! She then took a massive step and pushed the bollard like a grand door opening into the battlefield, en mass scrapping over the- *SSHHHAAAKKKkkk* A shot slammed the wall, dust and rubble shook free from it and Maya, but it held. “HAH!!!” Maya was beaming manically. She shifted, pulling her left hand out and twisting her right, pulling the bollard over on its side to create a long wall. It slammed down as machinegun fire raked it. Maya pulled out and kicked it into place against its neighboring bollard so it had no gaps, then slammed a foot down. Three supporting spikes shot up to keep it propped as she turned hard back toward the rest of her team. “YOU FUCKERS ARE UP!!!” She shifted back, moving over to the bollard that had opened to let them in.

Kabar and David moved up to her place low opposite the new bollard fortification. Kabar held his hands at his shoulder like he was holding a pipe, intense heat emanating from his hands. David swirled the water he had collected into a concentrated flow that aimed directly in between Kabar’s hands. It passed into the superheated gap and was almost immediately turned to a jet of steam that shot out over the corner. Marco came up beside David and swirled a current of air, flowing it high and over Kabar’s head. The air current pushing the steam cloud out across the battlefield as a growing smoke screen.

Meanwhile, Seth looked out ahead at what the final goal was. Out in the middle of the intersection was a police cruiser on its side, a gradual mound of smashed and smoking car parts forming an earthworks on the leading side. Behind it sat a huddled officer, navy blue uniform and comparatively limited flak vest. She was just a beat cop. Next to her was an unconscious body, the other officer, Seth could see his head was bloodied but he looked still intact at least. She cowered with her arms over her head as another shot slammed the bollard fortification. ‘Just a little longer, hold on.’

The field began to fill with thick steam, clouds kept at a low roil so they wouldn’t disperse too quickly. David and Kabar remained thoroughly locked in their rolls, but it was clear they couldn’t do this forever. Suddenly Cleo leaned into her ear and shot her arm out, forming a strap above Kabar’s head, just as a grenade came lazily in through the steam cloud. The strap whipped around and stopped the grenade just short of Kabar’s nose before whipping it high to avoid collateral damage. The round flew up, ready to be shot by Zeleny once out of sight, but it exploded not far above the intersection. ‘Wait… these bozos didn’t disable the timed fuses, their ordinance is fresh off the line!’ Kabar took a breath as he refocused and kept up the heat. Just then, Maya remade her presence known. Her hands slammed down through the crosswalk and on to the sunken bollard, sliding her feet in purposeful motions to sever the bollard from its moorings. With a heavy heave she pulled the bollard up from its hidey hole, scrapping everyone’s ears with little regard. She slid her foot toward it and stopped it from descending as she let go of the top of it. She took a hard step back and brought her hands low to the ground, pulling them up under strain as the bollard rose back up and over top of her. It uneasily towered over her as it leaned in her direction. But Maya’s strength was rather undeniable at this point, so it fell into her waiting arms with hardly a flinch. She wobbled slightly as she steadied and began walking the bollard to the next free gap, machinegun fire raking overhead as asphalt cracked underneath. Another heavy shot rang out, clipping the end of the bollard and spinning Maya out of balance. She swiveled enough to not get her ankle snapped off, but the bollard slammed hard onto the street behind the first wall. Maya sneered in the gunner’s direction before turning back and slamming her hands back on to the bollard, pulling it harshly the rest of the way and kicking it into place, spiking more supports into it. Just a few open feet separated the fortifications and the officer’s cover, but time was thinning.

David was wincing as the water he was using waned. “Hurry!!” Maya moved back as Jacob stepped up, prefab water ball set to roll out to the officers. Like a practiced bowler he rolled the ball under the fortifying spikes and froze the resulting trail solid as it splashed the beat cop’s leg. She flinched and looked at the source of her new torment, but saw Jacob responder hand signing at her. “WE’VE! GOT! YOU!” Tabby and Razor moved up now. Razor, still venting hard, turned to Maya. “You think you could cover that last few feet Maya?” Maya glared and grabbed him by the back holsters. “Just FUCKING GET IN THERE!!!” “Wait WAIT WAIIIII!!!” She underhand tossed him down the ice lane without a second thought. Razor slid down the lane fast, gripping a razor knife as a makeshift break. He rocketed into the open section and over to the officers, stabbing his knife into the asphalt to stop himself from bowling them over, or sliding out to the uncovered other side. He got up fast and snapped back “hu hu NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!!!” before pulling to the side to get out of Tabby’s way. Maya scooped up Tabby with a little more consent and slid her out feet first. As she crossed the second block it- *SSSHHHHHHAAAAKKKKkkkkk* took a hit, spike supports cracked and showered Tabby in dust and rubble. She slammed her claws down and dug into the asphalt to break as she passed the uncovered section, before flipping up and stopping just short of the shell-shocked officer. “Hi, we’re here to save you.”

The officer could only blurt out a few sounds as Tabby and Razor scooped her up and lined up to shoot her back down the lane. “Wait WAIT!! Save Carson first!” Razor pulled her up. “We’ll get to him next, we just need you out of the damn way first!!” “Wait but AAAHHHH!!” Both trainees tossed her down the lane, arms covering her face as she barreled passed the open space and under the supports. Maya caught her and dragged her back behind the wall, her shock turned to relief as she was handed off to the SWAT team’s medic. Tabby and Razor meanwhile prepped the unconscious officer, Tabby laying on her back and wrapped around him so he doesn’t get hurt further. Razor grabbed the officer’s vest and belt and lined the two up on the lane, taking a few steps to get a good run up before the gap. He bull rushed the two forward and tossed them away to Maya as another shot slammed the wall. The spike supports cracked further, the bollard wall began to creep over as the spikes lost staying power. Razor watched in horror as his escape window started closing. “fuck Fuck FUCK!!!” He ran up to the lane and slid for his life as the spikes gave out and crumbled. “AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!” He slid under just in time as the wall crashed down at his escaping feet. He slid out into the street, Maya not bothering to catch him as she help the injured officer to a stretcher. Razor popped up, turned and pointed at her. “NEVER AGAIN!!!” The officers clear, David, Marco, and Kabar let up their steam screen, David falling backward from over exertion. One crisis down, two to go.

Para shifted everyone back away from the gap, a slight tinge of pride crossed his face as he looked over his successful trainees. But this wasn’t over yet. He pulled his finger up to his ear piece again, flipping it to transmit. “Ditto, what’s the situation inside?” No one else could hear what was said, but Seth was able to patch in with his powers. “Captain was one off, we’ve got 6 bad guys. 2 are covering the hostages, 1 looks like he’s directing everything from the back. The other 3 are in firing positions at the windows. And sir they are ‘really’ heavy. Seth was right, they have powersuits with heavy ordinance. And a fuck ton of ammo. These guys came for a siege. And… there’s another wrinkle.” “What?” “Can’t get a good look, but I think some of the hostages are wearing bomb vests. Command guy is waving around a detonator every so often to keep them down. This isn’t going to be easy sir, these guys look like fucking psychos and… wait. Command guy’s on the move!” Para pulled his finger away and turned to the gap, shifting over to the corner bollard to poke an eye over.

The steam was dissipating and the enemy fire had stopped. Seth shifted over to match Para’s angle, inching carefully so he could react if that cannon fired again. Seth saw them first, barrel raised up and still smoking from the repeated firings. The gun was haphazardly mounted to the shoulder with what looked like a mismatched bracket, different paint jobs and a little too much space between the suit and the mount. Their suit had a silver sheen, no… chrome, with a denoting strip on the chest. A security blue one. ‘Oh you’d better hope to GOD that isn’t…’ But there it was, S2-10 marked on the chest. They were using one of United’s suits. The same kind Seth worked on before leaving. He was livid, but kept his calm so he wasn’t obvious. ‘Who knows, maybe they were just customers?’ He continued deepening the angle, another suit came into view at the center of the bank’s façade. ‘Are you fucking kidding me!?!’ It was a military suit just like the one Seth had passed over, the one that had lost its arms. No fuck that, it was the suit he passed over, a new set of arms installed to replace the ones that had been ripped off! It was beefy, uparmored compared to standard units, and painted a drab tan. Or at least the body was drab tan, the arms were bright orange, test models from an assembly line. On top of one arm was a hump sporting the grenade launcher he had identified, but instead of a drum mag it had a ring magazine over the arm. Better ergonomics, but weirder fashion sense. The other arm was obviously for close quarters fighting, a high speed razor claw complete with a central spike harpoon launcher.

Seth stopped his angling, the commander was in view next to the refurbished ‘AND STOLEN!!!’ military suit. He wore an old style BDU, camouflaged for a European forest, a modern black flak vest, and a rather off putting purple beret. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he looked familiar. His hands were behind him, a smug look crossing… what was left of his face. He was scarred across the right side, an… ‘Uggh!’… empty eye socket dominated over several old gashes that streaked over and toward the back of his head. His grey hair somewhat scarred away on that side. Seth looked over him again, looking for anything denoting who the hell he was. Then he saw it, just as Para silently mouthed out the answer. A patch on his left shoulder as he turned to take a megaphone from the military suit, three overlapping target reticles on a thrice shot skull. “Tango Delta.”

The commander stood out against the open and busted façade of the bank, completely ignoring his own vulnerability. As he pulled up his megaphone, Seth saw that his vulnerabilities were a bit more pronounced than expected. His right hand was mangled, only a thumb, ring, and pinky left to use. Given that the Tango Delta that he knew and fought in the simulations was a deadly sniper and sadistic strategist, it was clear he wasn’t going to be sniping trainees today at least. ‘But what the hell is he doing here?’ The answer was coming as he clicked his megaphone.

“Good morning Parasonic. It’s been too long.” A slightly buried German accent was muddled by the jaw damage he’d sustained. ‘This guy really needs some reconstructive surgery.’ “Your trainees are certainly looking like they will be fine heroes, though we were hoping to attract far bigger names to our little show. But… what can you do? Schedules and more important crises. Oh well, but you and your would-be heroes will do. Now then, if you don’t wish to have these innocent lives obliterated, this rather important vault blown open, and all the guilt and sorrow and yadda yadda, you get the idea. If you don’t want bad things to happen, send out one of your trainees. Any will do, and no you can’t sacrifice yourself. Though we both know you wouldn’t anyway. You have 5 minutes.” He lowered down the megaphone and stepped back, a slight look in his only eye seemed to denote he was staring at Para from his vantage point, or he was regarding Seth. ‘This guy’s eye sight is way too good.’ Seth pulled back as Para turned his back to the bollard wall and folded his arms in thought.

The trainees all turned to him, a few truly worried he was about to throw them into the sights of a jaded mad man. Razor seemed the most perturbed, though that was expected. “You’re not really gon-” “Shut up Butterknife! ...No, I’m not about to throw you to the wolves… not without a plan at least.” The trainees let out a few sighs of relief, but they still understood this wasn’t over. Para gritted his teeth at whatever he had just thought through, but Seth was sure it was about him. He pulled his finger to his ear piece again, putting him through to Kaz and Ohm. “You in position to clear those hostages?” Kaz was the only one to respond. “We are close. Ohm believes he can scramble the detonator, I can take care of the guards, but we need a diversion.” “That’s what I was afraid of. Sit tight and act when it happens, if you can’t kill the detonator… just get as many people out as you can.” “…Sir!” Para lowered his finger, a dark look drawn over his face. Even he didn’t like the idea of sacrificing the few for the many. At least when they don’t get to choose. He despised self-sacrifice in unwinnable situations, but this was unpalatable by every standard. So… Seth was willing to make a counter offer.

Over the silence that drenched the group came the metallic foot falls of Seth headed straight for the opening. Para looked up, a hostile sneer across his face signaled he knew Seth was spying. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Seth stopped short of clearing the wall and popped his helmet. “You and I both know no one else is going to be able to stand up to that kind of firepower.” “And what if that suit of yours isn’t what it’s cracked up to be? What then? What happens to the hostages when they ask for a better sacrifice? I’m not letting you go out there to fight and die like a damned idiot.” “Who said anything about fighting? You said I wasn’t allowed in combat, well it’s not really combat if only one side fights right. And besides… I’m just out here for a jog, remember.” With that Seth slamed his helmet closed and continued on, an aggravated Para holding himself back from stopping him.

That second to cool allowed him clarity to address his trainees. “Watch this closely, you’ll need to understand the limitations of powersuits if you ever want to fight one on even ground.” Seth chuckled sharply as he came into view of the bank’s façade, and the three modified suits that took up firing positions across it. The cannon wielding security suit had retaken a firing stance, but held his fire as he tracked him across the field. The refurbished military suit popped their empty mag off and jammed their arm into one of the many… many boxes of ordinance stacked up at his feet, a fresh full ring mag around his arm and racked automatically. Lastly came the… ‘Well that just confirms it. These fuckers raided United Armors, or were the only fucking customers we had left! Really fucking hope Terrance didn’t start selling to villains after I quit.’ The construction suit that had needed long overdue maintenance stood at the far right side, it was modified heavily but it was definitely the one Seth passed over. The caution yellow and black checkered paint job was visible under added armor plates that were bolted to the originally empty frame. Twin fifty caliber machineguns were mounted over its shoulders, independent to its heavy lifter clamp arms. ‘Guess that one is finally being conservative. That suit was pushed to its limits before, now they’re not even twin firing those guns.’

As Seth stomped out into the field he stepped over the fallen bollard fortification, the deep craters from the cannon striking it showed just how devastating it could be. But that didn’t faze him, he kept walking. He stepped in front of the smashed together car earthworks that had shielded the officers. Piles of metal bent, blasted, and melted into indistinguishable forms by innumerable explosions. He turned, staring down his old life a little too poignantly. Perverted and changed into weapons of… whatever Tango Delta was doing this for. ‘What was this about anyway, revenge? He seems a little too suicidal with that much explosives around him.’ More answers hopefully came as Tango stepped out from behind the military suit, detonator in his only good hand again, megaphone mic grasped in his other.

“So… you’re the one Para thinks the least of.” ‘Okay, too right, move the hell on!’ “I honestly expected some underachieving ruffian who would at least try their hardest and dig deep and surprise us… you know that stupid cliché. But you… I know full well he HATES you.” Seth was starting to feel called out now. “I mean what is it, 3 months in to your class’ semester? You made it so far in without powers of your own. He must really want you out. And, hey we’ll do it, but it’s hard to say it will really be worth it.” Seth was really getting ticked off now. “But oh well, deals are deals after all… And I said the League would lose something of theirs in the end.” ‘Hegh?’ “You can blow this undeserving trash away now.” *CRACK* Seth’s head turned hard on its axis... a little too harshly, a slight glow started in the eyes of his helmet. “The fuck did you say?” Tango hesitated to dismissively turn away as the security cannon braced for the recoil. He heard him from such distance, through that helmet. He didn’t have time to rethink his estimation as the cannon fired. *SSSSSSHHHHHOOOOOOOooooo*

Perception turned the world down a speed. The mismatched cannon rocked back in recoil, casing getting propelled backwards and ejected by its over strength bolt. The shell spun into the light as depressed fins came free of the rifling in a shower of fire, the relatively fat shell propelled by the massive powder charge and added boosters in the shell’s base. Once free, it continued accelerating to abhorrent speeds as it traveled the distance of the parking lot, the entrance way, the opening of the intersection. All in the space of- *SSSHHHKKKEEEEeeeennngggg* not fast enough. All that hyped up speed came to a dead halt, metal spalling and ripped as it sputtered in the suit’s extended hand.

The world was shot back up to speed as all that halted force kicked the air. The boosters died out in pitiful fashion, the inert kinetic round wasted of all its potential. Seth tossed it aside into the asphalt, stabbing the torn apart core down like a military grade lawn dart, hallowed base echoing a whistly clang. Tango was fully turned back toward him, Para glared from the bollard doorway, the trainees that were scattered about all winced, and the suited minions recoiled. All watched as Seth stared back at Tango with plasma blue eyes and a stance that practically yelled “Come on and try me!”

The moment broke as the construction suit slammed its hesitant lifter claws shut, a slight chuckle rising to an unhinged laugh coming from the woman inside. She slammed the clamps down as the laughter hit peak and switched over to rather concerning screaming. “YOU… YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!!! Why Why…Why! Aren’t! You! DEAD!!!” Both machineguns auto cycled as she aimed them and fired, disregarding all semblance of moderation. Seth hardened the suit, but didn’t move as the shower of bullets washed over him. Rounds ricocheted off the suit’s plates, the force thoroughly dissipated to the point where he felt little more than slight plinks. ‘I am really appreciating this gel layer. How’s the armor holding though?’ Speaker and the control room were monitoring every impact in real time, measuring the stresses imparted on the suit, waiting to redirect power to repair any damage. “This suit was designed for worse than your people’s conventional firearms. That cannon might push us around if you are not careful, but this one may as well not have shown up.” The shower stopped as the constructor saw she was having no effect, gun barrels smoking and glowing from the heat. She was further degrading mentally, practically growling her frustrations. Tango turned to try and reign her in. “Sasha, remember your breathing exercises!!” “RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!!!” But she wasn’t there anymore.

Smashing through what was left of the bank’s façade, she charged toward Seth, clamps slapping away car wrecks and what was left of decorative trees strewn across the parking lot. With a clear lane, she began picking up speed that really shouldn’t be possible for a construction model. The back mounted motor assembly seemed to strain as she berserker rushed toward him, closed lifter raised high and pointed dead at his chest. Seth kept his position, though he was really starting to feel worried about this woman. She reached him just as her motors reached their theoretical maximum, almost disintegrating as she launched her drawn out clamp stab. The heavy tungsten clamp slammed into the suit’s chest plate, receiving no give and instead scraping off as the mad woman tried to add a step to her inertia. The claw, and by extension her arm, were shot downward by her own momentum. She turned up to see her effects of the suit, just a paint transfer across the plate. She roared again and pulled her other clamp up to stab Seth in the side. It clanged off and recoiled her arm. She realigned her footing, readying both her arms to just tear at him wildly. Loosing her combo, she slashed and stabbed with reckless abandon. The metals clanged, spalled, sparked, and screeched as she flailed without thought of what was happening. The reality was her clamps were the ones calling for help, getting worn down and battered by the assault.

She scraped across one last time before rearing back again, pulling her bare metal and bent clamps back and screeching them open. She forced them forward, over Seth’s upper arms, clamping them down as hard as they could clamp. The claw motors screamed their limit as she lifted him up, clamps holding his arms out like he was a toddler. The lifter motor begged for mercy, it could handle this kind of weight, but not after everything else it had been put through. The mad woman didn’t care, she roared over the suit’s complaints and realigned the guns on her back on Seth. Except this wasn’t point blank, this was danger close. She let loose, guns firing full bore into the suit’s chest.

The battlefield turned to a near constant and bland firework display, gun barrels glowing red hot as sparks and spalling scattered about. The rounds ricocheted in every direction, but especially back at their shooter. Her suit took hit after hit, joints were torn up, added plates bent and buckled, and slap dash brackets were obliterated. The guns fell silent as they chewed themselves apart, falling broken to the suits sides. Next the suit gave out, knees buckled as servos shattered and motors coughed their deaths. Arms falling down powerless, letting Seth slam back down as the constructor dropped to its knees. The added plates fell away as the suit slumped forward, most too bent and chewed up to even be called armor. The face covering finally fell away revealing the woman underneath. Bloodshot red eyes glared up at Seth’s still unblemished suit, but the real kicker was her hair. She was bald, shaved for what looked like medical reasons. A large scarred patch of skin was present on her scalp, along with stitches from some kind of surgery. ‘Fucking hell, please tell me Tango isn’t lobotomizing his fucking minions.’ She growled at Seth, struggling with her broken down suit, unable to move anything but her head. ‘*sigh* Well at least she’s contained now.’ Realizing she was in the way though, he grabbed and picked her up by her immobile arms, moving her over behind the police car behind him. A few concerning attempts to bite at him the only worry.

Tango and his other suited minions all held off their attacks as Seth cleared the field. ‘Guess they have some amount of comradery.’ Tango’s surprise seemed to wear off, the smug sadist coming back to the surface as he pulled the megaphone back up and Seth returned to his spot. “Sorry about her, we all cope with our personal damage in our own ways. The rest of us at least deal with our frustrations a little more… constructively. Speaking of which.” Tango dropped the microphone completely and turned to his two minions. “KILL HIM!!!” Wasting no time the military suit shot up its factory new grenade launcher and fired four shots in quick succession. While the relatively lazy shells flew away, the cannon wielder braced to fire. Seth looked up at the spread of shells, small electric fuses still counting down. With one hand he batted the first away, coopting the fuse and freezing it. The next two received the same slap treatment, both falling to either side and tumbling and skidding to a stop on the asphalt. The last one though, Seth just caught. Looking down at it, as the gathered audience waited for them to explode, he confirmed these were in fact factory new.

No sand or dust scuffing. They even still had serial numbers. ‘Sheesh… so unprofessional.’ “You guys should really learn about your equipment before using it!!” Seth flipped the grenade up to them vaguely, a small turn ring on the nose with the settings timer and impact abbreviated on it. He turned it to impact. “For instance… you left the timers on!!” He threw it over to the side. As the shell hit the asphalt Seth set off the other grenades, only a few seconds off their original timers just to keep some cover. All four detonated to either side of him, shrapnel spraying over the battlefield, plinking off his suit, and scaring the trainees into cover. The military suit hesitated and looked down at his launcher, looking for an external setting no doubt. The cannon wielder seemed ticked off, but held his fire. Tango looked down at the boxes around the military suit, taking up a magazine from an open one and looking it over, before shoving against the military suit in apparent frustration. Seth couldn’t hear, but he knew Tango was cracking.

The military suit appeared to find the setting, immediately firing off a grenade into the parking lot and receiving an instant explosion of fire and asphalt. “There you go, now you- SHIT!!” They immediately retrained on to Seth and began firing every grenade they had in their mag. Seth hardened up, bringing both his arms up to block as the shell flew in. The first round struck his arm, pressure wave washing over the suit followed by the heat of the explosion. He was rattled, but the gel layer absorbed the worst of it. The Garkah compensated for the second one as it tumbled off course and into Seth’s face. Pressure and heat in equal measure, but tolerable. The rest scattered as explosion after explosion rocked the suit. Some missed entirely, striking the asphalt or the metallic earthworks behind him. Most struck home though, and it wasn’t without threat. Speaker raised the alarm first. “External temperature is rising, if the integrity drops too low we cannot defend against that-” *SSSSSSHHHHOOOOOOooooooo* Too late.

The clouds of smoke and shrapnel from the explosions parted as a kinetic round came screaming in again. Seth had no time to do anything but defend harder. The round hit square in his guard, but that didn’t matter. The force threw his guard back at him, rattled him inside the suit almost to the point of blacking out, and all that force denied his excess weight. Nearly a ton of metal was blasted of its feet to the sound of a resounding spark shower, shot backwards at the shooter’s angle. A charred chunk of police car came with him as he ricocheted off and tumbled seemingly lifelessly into the corner of the intersection. The trainees coukd only look on as he flew past, rolling and clanging to a stop. Para looked more disappointed than smug as his ‘least desirable’ trainee appeared lifeless on the ground, arm plates still smoking from impact. An impact that should have shattered that armor like glass but... “You have got to be fucking kidding me!!”

Para’s expression changed to one of unrepentant frustration, which was only exacerbated as Seth pulled his practically unblemished arms up to pick himself up off the ground. He got up on a knee, shaking off the multiple g’s he just got smacked around by. ‘hugh… Fuck… Thank you god for this gel layer!!’ “Thank your god on your own time, we still have hostiles wanting you dead!” Speaker piped up over Seth sucking air in to refill his empty lungs. The armor held, the round did not. It smooshed against the plates, spalling to super-heated shards off the outer layer, but transferring every Newton it had into the suit before disintegrating into hyper velocity sparks. Seth stood shakily back up, still sucking in air. One final shake brought him back into focus, back up to fighting shape.

Seth looked up from his breathing to see the less stunned more annoyed Tango scowling at him. He seemed to start to complain aloud, but he was too far and realized it as he ranted. He swapped hands and angrily scooped up the dropped megaphone, annoyed he still had to use it. “What the hell does it take to kill you?!? Seriously, this is starting to piss me off!! And you know what happens when I’m pissed off?!” He raised the detonator up in his partial hand. Most of the trainees froze, a few made half a movement from their vantage points before Para pulled out of his cover in vain hope of stopping him. The suited minions looked on, mixed fear and content on their helmeted fasces as Tango flipped the detonator over with what few fingers he had. “People Die!!!”

Tango stabbed the detonator, button down, onto the military suit next to him. “YEHAHA HAHAHA HAHAHAHA!!!” A megalomaniacal laugh starting up as he felt a victory for once, even if it was pyrrhic. Everyone froze as he laughed harder and harder for a few seconds… for a little too long given the situation. His victorious laugh died down before he finally realizing he was still alive. He looked over at the detonator, stabbing it again into the military suit before throwing the megaphone down and passing it over to his good hand. He smashed the button several times in distant rage before stopping and spinning around. Seth couldn’t see what he saw, but he could only imagine it was just the empty bomb vests laying on the floor of the bank. He had no hostages, no leverage, and had a very pissed off super that had been waiting for this moment. ‘My turn!’

A heavy metal foot stamped down and resounded through the battlefield, one defying the non violent promise made but too damn set to fucking care! Seth rocketed across the intersection, tearing passed trainees, passed Para, passed the still self-containing constructor. Each step chewing asphalt up and propelling him faster. As he crossed into the parking lot the other suits broke from their cathartic blue balling, Tango turning with an exceptionally perturbed expression of pure rage at being denied his victory. He didn’t even have to order them, they immediately trained every weapon they had at him. The military suit fired a wide burst of grenades before leveling and racking its harpoon spike. The grenade bracketed him in explosions trying to leave him only one route to take as the harpoon shot down it, tungsten chain clinking too fast to be discernible. Seth didn’t even flitch, instead ducking low under the harpoon as the booms kicked his unfazed suit. He flipping his upper body over and caught the chain in a dragged over hand, momentum still carrying him along. As his lower body caught up and touched down again he planted a foot again, but slid his hand as far up the chain as he could. Hand clamped down, he launched at the same moment he pulled the chain, adding momentum to his pull and catching the military suit off guard. The suit was pulled hard, off their feet completely and out of the cover of the bank façade, to the dismay of Tango still stood next to it. They fell forward into the parking lot, skidding a bit as Seth continued his charge. Suddenly- *SSSSHHHOOOOOooooo* he ducked low again as another cannon shot streaking, jetting over him and smashing into the bollard wall surrounding the bank. A quick flash of his eyes on the suit the only retaliation. ‘That’s enough out of you.’

Seth continued low, skimming the ground like a low set lizard, keeping his arms at his sides and out of the way. The military suit put their hands down hard to push up and level the grenade launcher from on their knees, but was far too slow on the uptick. A short hop and a loaded full metal foot bowled into them, inertia pushing both over to gravity's will. Then the foot split, metal talons digging into the chest plate, keeping it in place as both of them fell with the momentum. Then and only then did Seth fire the stamp. The suit was slammed down as the military suit's legs came free from under them, the asphalt cratered and aerosolized under the force. Seth came down on him off the recoil, staring straight into the camouflaged faceplate, seeing nothing but deep seated fear as the suit’s pilot came to his senses. “No… NO NO NOOO!!!”

He panicked like a cornered animal, desperate to bring his weapon arms up to get whatever he was thinking Seth was away. But they stopped short, clawed gauntlets lurching down and digging into the factory new metal of both arms. “NO! NO! NO!! YOU’RE ALL DEAD!!!” Seth pressed down with his foot, pulled himself back up tall, and wrenched his arms up. Callously intent on pulling these perverted refurbishments apart. Bolts snapped, connectors sheared, and servos were crushed as the relatively weak metal gave way to brute force. But more than the suit arms came with. Connectors and deeper artificial joints tore away... as the pilot’s arms came off as well. His prosthetics at least. The pilot's head fell back, passed out from shock as bits of sheered machinery rained beside him. Seth felt a little bad a the second set of arms fell free from the orange armored ones. ‘Well shit! Why do I feel like that wasn’t the first time his arms have been ripped off?’ Shrugging he tossed the hollow arms aside, knowing he was covered from the doubtlessly disturbed glares of the trainees… and the security cannon.

As the dust and smoke cleared, Seth retracted his claws and looked over at his offhand handy work. The security suit seemed to struggle to move, each attempt eliciting a pained screech from the servos that he’d repaired long ago. “Heh… You should really get those servos looked at, I don’t think they were rated for anti-tank duty!!” Knowing full well he demagnetized them, leaving them back in the poor state they were before. Except now they had wear from both suit movement and the cannon firing to deal with. In a last ditch attempt to get their gun aimed, the security suit inched their arm up to the barrel, deciding to aim it manually. The suit screamed as the gunner forced their grip over the barrel and aimed toward Seth’s position. But, he was already gone from it, already walking up to the gunner’s position across the parking lot. In the opposite direction the gunner had just pushed their suit to aim in.

They could only watch as Seth strode up to them through what was left of the topiary outside the bank, side stepping crushed and obliterated shrubbery. With one final almighty pull back, the gunner scraped back toward Seth. Until- *clang* he put an armored hand up and stopped the barrel dead. The gunner growled as he tried to push against him, succeeding in nothing but glaring passed clear view ports in his face plate. “The fucking hell are you?” His gruff, basically gravel laden voice etched away at him as best it could. “No fucking suit could do the things you did… take the fucking hits you did and live. So... what kind of super wears a fucking powersuit?” Seth lost what levity he had regained walking over here. “What? Your power not good enough or something? Welcome to the club. And hey… here’s to the League…” Suddenly the brackets on the cannon popped, quick release charges blowing it from the suit and leaving Seth holding the bag while the gunner produced a shock inducer from his offhand and stabbed at him as fast as he could muster. “FUCKING US ALL OVER!!!”

The inducer prongs made contact and discharged over Seth’s suit. Arcs of loose electricity scattered over the chest plate and dimming everything else out from the bright plasma burn. The inducer’s charge held up for a few seconds before dying out and shutting off, draining every ounce of power their suit had left. The gunner watched the ozone and fried asphalt dust clear from his own handy work before reeling back as best he could in surprise. Seth looked down at the melted shock inducer then back up at the gunner, completely unfazed by the ‘attack’. “Huh… I thought they got rid of my heavy stun gun idea.” Seth brought his non cannon-holding hand up to the gunner’s face plate and pushed with a finger, causing him to crash back to the thinly carpeted bank floor, completely unable to move and too defeated to even try.

Seth stepped over the windowsill the gunner had been in position in, finally stepping into the bank proper. Mostly shattered and crushed tills and stacked boxes. He still held on to the cannon, turning it over in his hands. The barrel was thick, it had to be to handle the obscene powder charge used in those shells. The bolt and receiver were equally proportioned, if not heavier, though the added feeding rail wasn’t helping. ‘It’s not bad, just a little…’ “Primitive?” Speaker was trying to be facetious again. ‘eh… Okay fine yeah primitive. But when you’re basically using ammo that fires itself you don’t really need much complexity.’ Seth tossed the cannon out the shattered bank façade, crushing an already devastated car, and finally regarded Tango, who seemed to be desperately rummaging through one of the grenade boxes. ‘That can’t be good.’

Seth stomped closer, seeing the rest of the trainees out of the corner of his eye. They were following behind an aggressively walking Para. He saw Ohm and Kaz come in from the back room and join the advance. Everyone converged on Tango as he seemed to feel all the eyes on him. Wheeling around, he was holding several grenades freed of their ring magazines. Para halted the trainees, Seth stopped as well as he held one aloft in his broken hand. It was set to impact. “That’s right, one wrong step and I drop this. I doubt any speedsters are among your little class, so none of you have a hope in hell to catch it. And when it drops,” Seth looked down at the still packed boxes of grenade mags, remembering the boxes of shells stacked up in the position behind him. “we all go boom.” Para stepped closer to get his attention. “It’s over Tango!! Just give up this stupid suicidal revenge plot and stand down!!” “Or what… I’ve already lost everything that made me who I am… What kind of sniper can’t hold a gun anymore, can’t sight a rifle without constantly reliving all the SHIT you people put me through!? Tell me…! What did you lose to the Laceroids again?” ‘Wait, why would…’ Tango looked over the trainees and Seth as they looked at him with cautious puzzled looks. “Oh… Oh Para. You didn’t tell them about the Penal Units did you? You poor children.” “It wasn’t relevant to their training.” “My pain wasn’t relevant?! The pain of all these ‘reformed villains’ wasn’t relevant?!! These men and women of oh so questionable morals, promised freedom and praise for their service protecting the world, only to be thrown away like TRASH when they ended up surviving with maimed bodies and frayed minds!! You poor ignorant children probably thought those ‘distraction forces’ were heroes… no… no no no… they were villains. Convicts. The undesirables sent to their deaths… never to be seen again!” Tango spread his arms out, the grenade slipping in his grip to the dismay of everyone in attendance. “Well here we are… still languishing in the obscurity and pain the League left us in! Still treated as pariah! Well… Not. Any! MORE!!!”

Suddenly Tango reared back, intent on spiking the grenade down and blowing the bank, the trainees, and everyone he could straight to the hell he felt they deserved. His hand shot down as everyone in attendance recoiled, desperate to get away. Maya was half way done with an impromptu asphalt wall. Cleo was forming straps, but wasn’t fast enough. Ohm was speeding in from the back room, but he wasn’t fast enough. Para was charging up an attack, but not even he was fast enough. Seth moved to react, but quickly stopped. Not because it was fruitless to try… but because Tango’s hand was empty.

Tango spiked his hand down before he knew, only realizing as he stared at his empty broken hand with a compounding and almost justified anger at being stopped yet again. He slowly turned to see his grenade, floating in the air… in a cloud of reddish smoke. Alex! She formed back up, clutching the grenade away from Tango, a slight look of sadness in her noncorporeal and copied cloudy eyes. Tango looked at her with the rage of a thousand suns burning in his eye as Cleo’s straps slowly started wrapped around him. Ohm sped past Alex, scooping up the grenade in Tango’s other hand and pushing away the rest of the mags. Para killed his attack, Maya stopped forming her wall. And Seth breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Fucking hell! It’s finally over.’ As Cleo slowly mummified Tango in straps he looked back over at Seth, that justified rage in his eye burning at him as his face was covered up. Seth met it almost dutifully ‘I guess Aegis was right… the League is not what it used to be.’

The villains defeated, most still locked in their suits or… mummified, the scene was clear for the police to do their sweeps. The hostages were checked and comforted, most set up with rides home since there was nothing even resembling a car left in the parking lot anymore. The bollards were lowered, the ones that were still attached anyway, and heavy clearing and repair teams were called in to repair the damage. The bomb squad took custody of the ordinance and heavy corrections units were given custody of the villains. Though as Seth watched the now suitless villains get led away, or wheeled out on safety chairs, he couldn’t help feeling sorry for them. Their injuries plain for all to see now. The mad constructor looked like she had scars over one side of her body, in addition to the now clear head wound. The military suit pilot, besides losing both arms, seemed to have some heavy PTSD, though that was understandable. The security gunner had a serious scar on his throat and chest, as well as a prosthetic leg. All that was left was Tango. He was locked down in a safety chair, since he qualified as a super villain. Seth was never going to forget the hateful stare he was giving to him. But… he couldn’t help remember something. A town he crossed during the crisis, the one fortified and set up to funnel the laceroids into a sniper’s killbox. The one doubtfully still bloodied and ornamented with a crushed and torn rifle. He couldn’t help imagine it was Tango’s, couldn’t help tack on a little more guilt to his ever expanding total. But… ‘I wonder if Garkah healing works on other people.’ “There is no reason for it not to.” Speaker piped up, already having run the theory through the medical experts in Tesh III. “It is all just a matter of power and control, you would need to-” *clang*

Seth snapped out of his internal conversation as a piece of rubble bounced off his suit. Maya threw it, and judging from the fact that the other trainees were funneling into the UTAH it was time to leave. “Come on Tinman!! No more daydreaming!!” Seth took one last look around at the once battlefield, before turning back to catch up with the UTAH before it rumbled away. Para was the last to get on, hanging off the step and dead eyeing him as the UTAH started up. But he hadn't yelled at him about fighting, so Seth took the glare and hurried along. It’s been a long enough morning.

As he retraversed the city back to the Hill, Seth took a moment to check with the Garkah. ‘Almost forgot to ask. Did you get what we needed?’ Speaker and another Garkah he only knew in passing came to his attention. “Yes, we were able to draw enough power from the city and those suits to complete the threading. Weaver here did excellent work… as always.” ‘Let her sing her own praises Speaker. You’re stifling again.’ Speaker seemed irked by that, but relented. Weaver had always kept herself rather closed off from everyone, despite being in a literal collective. But she was working on being more confident, managing to even feel a bit of pride. “It was fun… to finally weave again.” ‘It was an honor to be of service madam.’ Okay now Seth was being facetious. ‘Just don’t forget to teach me to weave sometime okay?’ “I… I won’t forget.”

Seth let the attention go as he drew near the Hill, keeping low on the coping rails so he didn’t have to explain why the concrete in the front plaza was busted. He landed in the run up to the stairs, slowing his momentum as the UTAH rumbled passed on the access street. His own air of pride finding its way out. He’d finally done some good, used this power for good. ‘Just a week to go. Just one week till they can’t deny me any longer. I’m ready for this. I know I am.’