22nd July
Tuesday - 1.00 am - ABB stronghold near the Northern Docks area.
Lung - POV
The incense in my office is meant to calm the nerves—other people's nerves.
Mine? It barely scratches the surface.
And right now, the scent does nothing to hide the stench of fear coming off the two lieutenants kneeling on the floor.
Daiichi looks like he hasn't slept in days. Hajun looks like he wishes he hadn't woken up today at all. I inhale slowly, let the smoke curl through my lungs. It helps. Barely.
"So," I say, keeping my voice even, "let me understand this."
Both men flinch anyway.
Daiichi bows low. "Boss-Lung-sama..we… we lost thirty men. They're all hospitalised. We still don't know what hit them. Some kind of gas, or a-"
I raise my hand. He shuts up instantly.
My fingers tense reflexively. Scales itch beneath the surface of my skin. I force them to stay down.
"And now," I continue, "Hajun tells me he went to check the Trainyard with six armed men, and several with baseball bats. What happened to the altercation?"
Hajun tries to speak, but his voice cracks.
"The…Mechs. They had mechs. We-"
"And you lost," I finish for him. "All of you lost. All I hear is excuses."
I lean forward in my chair, resting my elbows on my knees. My claws want out. My fire wants out. Rage comes easy, too easy, but rage is an indulgence. A leader needs clarity.
I speak softly, because soft terrifies people more.
"Explain to me how a single parahuman beat armed men."
Hajun swallows hard. "He uhh…he had machines, Boss. Robots. Construction mechs. One grabbed me and threw me against a freight car like nothing. They even have Turrets, some kind of big giant monstrosity version of a turret. He didn't even need to fire them at us…"
Turret.
My eyes narrow.
"Are you telling me," I ask, "that a new Tinker has established a base inside my territory?"
....
July 22 2010
Tuesday Morning- Command Centre Abandoned Trainyard.
7.00 AM
Woke up like a million dollars smelling like Junkyard Millionaire. Oh fuck..I reek.
I hadn't expected heaven to smell like citrus-scented steam and high-pressure water jets, but here we were. The Command Centre's Commander Suite shower wasn't just a shower. It was a technological statement. How good was a shower like this? Easily I'd praise it ten outta ten, no drama.
A chrome alcove with a pressure-adjustable spray matrix, temperature readouts in neat orange holographics, and a built-in filtration unit that could probably turn swamp sludge into Fiji water. The moment I stepped in and the door slid shut with that soft pneumatic hiss…
I swear the whole stall preheated itself in anticipation.
Then the water hit.
"Der mother of Mengks..."
I could ascend right here and now and wouldn't complain.
Hot water poured over me in a perfect, even pattern, pounding out every knot in my shoulders, rinsing away the grime and grease of the past few days. I felt muscles I didn't even know I had unclench like they'd been clenched since birth. Gone were the days of sneaking to the Boardwalk beach showers at six in the morning like some stray raccoon to just take a damn bus and shower in the public Beach. Nah fuck that shit.
Gone were the cold blasts when someone flushed a toilet fifty feet away at those dastardly public toilets. Gone were the weird looks from joggers wondering why I carried a backpack and a towel, my tiny bottle of coconut shampoo and coconut toiletries.
I leaned my head against the warm metal wall and let out a long, borderline indecent groan.
"This… this is it. This is peak civilisation, Oh yeah...I could get used to this. I might need to take three showers a day."
Mineral filtration shower. Adjustable pressure. Integrated Terran-grade heating coil. Luxury.
Actual, unapologetic luxury.
I could practically cry.
I let the water cascade over me and thought wow...
Why the hell was I walking all the way to Brockton Bay Beach every day? Why was I elbowing past tourists, timing myself so no ABB idiot tried to mug me, and pretending the communal stall wasn't leaking something questionable onto my foot?
Because I didn't have this, that's why.
I ran my hand over the slick metal controls and bumped the rainfall setting up a level. Water hit like warm summer rain.
My soul left my body. It even has six optimised settings for different types of spray. An ideal choice for homeowners who want to upscale..cept I dont need to upscale anything. This thing just came with the room. I think I get it. I now know why people like to upgrade their homes and stuff.
"This alone," I said to nobody, "is worth building an entire Terran base."
Honestly? If someone told me the Command Centre was only half-operational but the shower was fully online, I would've still considered the day a major win.
I soaped up with what passed for Terran synth-body wash. kind of minty, kind of industrial, definitely cleaning me on a molecular level and let the rinse cycle run longer than absolutely necessary. To think they made this with just Butane gas... I really need to take a proper peek properly at the Terran material converter and how the heck they even achieve this.
Then a timer beeped somewhere overhead.
Monica's voice drifted in through hidden speakers, "Breakfast is served, Commander. Would you like to head to the Canteen right now?"
"Monica. I haven't showered properly in days. Let me have this."
A pause. " As you wish, Commander. Today's breakfast is Kitza. It is often deep-fried, and is served in high-class restaurants as an appetiser or breakfast for the upper nobility and high society in Terran uppercrust."
Didn't matter. Fancy smanshy breakfast and whatnot. Anything is better than MRE I guess, besides. I had a shower that could put five-star hotels to shame. And as the steam swirled around me and the stress melted off, one thing became crystal clear-
I was never going back to the beach shower again.
Ever.
The Terran Commander's life was already spoiling me rotten.
And honestly?
I deserved this.
After that sordid affair, the rest of the ABB took their injured and left. They didn't even enter the compound, let alone get blown up and probably ended up dead with giant turrets putting holes in their armorless body.
I wanna say, what were Lung or the ABB higher-ups thinking?
Apparently, it was a stupid question to ask since I know these fuckers weren't thinking with their head but with their ego so far up their ass they think the world revolves around them.
As if they had forgotten that this world is ruled by superpowered people. Did they really think an overgrown Lizard could protect them? They only heard one good thing about him, and they rally towards him like he's the bees' knees.
A lizard that could only scale up and fought against an Endbringer all those years ago because a whole nation fought against said Endbringer and ended up sinking Kyushu along with it.
Lung didn't care about them, didn't care about Asian rights. He's a coward who's content to be Brockton's little fucking Lizard overlord because he's king of molehill here. It's not like he's ruling anything worth ruling here anyway.
Wasted bastard.
Wasted potential, too.
With that, I wore my casual outfit and went down. Trainwreck is already snacking on this weird Kitza stuff. seems like ordinary fried bread if you ask me, but I could be wrong. It smelled oddly weird. Which, considering I was sitting inside a genuine Terran Command Centre, probably meant authentic.
I poked the steaming slab of reddish-brown… patty? hash? compressed mystery?… on my tray.
Trainwreck sat across from me on a reinforced bench, shovelling his portion in like a backhoe in a scrapyard and stared at my bare face. I didn't exactly wear any mask today, and he kept looking and me and shrugged his shoulders like he didn't care.
"Didn't think you were Asian, considering you didn't join the ABB", he said. I just laughed it off and didn't care about it one bit. Does being asian automatically make you ABB? The people here sure have funny thoughts. Or just being racist about it..eh, maybe both.
"Join those asian rejects? nah. I have a higher standard to maintain." He nodded, agreeing with me
"And free food, so I ain't judging. This is a lot better than my last boss" To that we can both agree simultaneously. Coil is a shitty boss. Fuck that Calvert prick.
"Coil didn't pay much, did he?" I asked, and he just gave me a weird look and said, "Yeah. Now that I think about it, he didn't really pay for food or lodging either and kept sending me to do weird shit like spying on the Merchants, or pick a fight with Armmaster and sending errands with Accord" huh...accord huh? Didn't think he already had a hand and bone there.
I just shake my head and stare at the food in front of us. Food made from synthetic technology. He seems to be enjoying it as he hunched at the canteen chair like a steel-plated gargoyle and seemed to be enjoying...whatever this is. The guy didn't technically have taste buds anymore, but the way he inhaled the stuff suggested his body had decided flavour was optional as long as it had texture and heat.
"So," I said slowly, "this is Kitza."
He grunted around a mouthful. "Mm-hm."
He swallowed. "Tastes good, though." Bro, how could you tell? I thought your taste buds were wrecked.
I took a bite.
Huh.
It did taste good. Kind of savoury, smoky, almost bacony? And the texture was firm but not rubbery. Surprisingly edible for something that was, according to Monica, grown out of gas conversion tech and raw minerals taken from the ground beneath the Command Centre.
I examined the second slab.
"You're telling me this… used to be propane? No way..."
Trainwreck shrugged. "Propane, methane...whatever it is, I could go for more of this. Monica said something about catalytic recomposition." He jabbed his fork at the ceiling. "Your AI's weird."
Monica's voice echoed faintly from the nearest console speaker. "Correction: Kitza is a nutritionally optimised protein composite. Source materials include atmospheric gases, soil minerals, and trace biochemical stabilisers. Designed for a combat treadmill"
"What the heck is a combat treadmill?" I asked.
Monica just chimed in and said, "Soldier, Commander."
I stared down at the Kitza again. So this was war food? Why was it served to the upper society then? should this be Fuel for marines? It's supposedly convenient, cheap, and probably something that has kept millions of Terrans alive on alien planets. And this is part of the upper society food stuff? Terrans are weird.
I took another bite.
t grew on you, honestly.
Trainwreck nudged me with one of his newly fabricated arms, still polished black and silver, servos humming softly. "Dude, stop overthinking. Just eat. Monica maam. May I have me some seconds, please?"
"Of course she did," I muttered. "You burn through calories like an industrial furnace." Because he literally has an industrial furnace on the back of his shoulders like a backpack. Wonder how he slept with all of that. The sooner I can get him a new body, the better.
"Dont mind if I do. You're not gonna eat, boss?" he said proudly, taking another heaping shovel of Kitza.
Monica chimed in again, tone neutral yet somehow judgemental. "Commander, your nutritional intake is below recommended thresholds. Kitza provides 67% of daily protein needs. It would be logical to consume more."
I sighed. "Let me finish my first plate before you start mother-henning me."
I took a sip of recycled Terran coffee as it tasted like someone taught a machine what "coffee" was through abstract art, and tapped the fabricator order menu on my datapad. It was..eh. bad. I mean, I could go for a cup of Joe, whatever Danny Hebert made. That coffee at the docks was still the best coffee I had in this world.
Two items queued:
CYBORG LIMB SET — TERRAN STANDARD MK.I
CYBORG LEG UNIT — HEAVY SUPPORT VARIANT
Estimated fabrication time under 2 hours.
Good. Enough to finish breakfast before the Command Centre started sounding like a factory floor. Trainwreck finally scraped his fork across the plate and gave me that half-human, half-metal look of his.
"You're ordering something big again," he said, voice rasping through metal-cavitated vocal cords. "I can hear the power rerouting."
I snorted. "Yeah. Cyborg arms and a new leg for you."
He blinked. The metal eyelid made a soft, metallic click when it closed. Almost cute. In a terrifying, junkyard-mutant way.
"For me?"
"Unless there's another metal-eating roommate I don't know about. I told you I would make a replacement body for you."
He stared at me for a moment, then back at his plate like he wasn't sure if this was a trick. "You, uh… You didn't need to do that. These are good enough."
"Of course I need to," I shrugged. "You're basically running around on whatever scrap you glued onto your body. I'd rather not watch your leg fall off while we're under fire, and I want you to use that shower. When was the last time you bathed? Bet you never knew the joys of having a bath too"
His mechanical fingers flexed involuntarily, gears whirring like he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. "Is it alright, you're just keep giving me stuff? I haven't done anything yet"
"And you're okay with that?" I asked. "Me swapping out parts? Replacing more of yourself?" I never really did ask the big guy what he thought about it, didn't I?
"Are you okay with it?" I asked.
We sat in a moment of quiet, nothing but the Command Centre hum and the faint clatter of an SCV working outside, building my Barracks and moving stuff. I have around 20 SCVs if Monica did her job and queued up all of the things I asked. Barracks should be done soon, so I can produce some Marines and Terran medics.
Trainwreck leaned back, the metal plates across his chest creaking.
"Honestly? I dont know how to feel about it," he admitted. "I've been replacing pieces of myself for a long time. Terran tech makes it feel… cleaner. Less like patching a dying machine. More like building an actual body."
I nodded.
"So just take it. Back from where I'm from, a gift is a form of sincerity from strangers. Buying someone breakfast shouldn't have anything attached to it; it's an act of kindness given freely. This is just the same from me."
He picked up his metal mug, took a sip of synth-coffee, and immediately put it down like he regretted every decision that led to that moment.
"…That's weird, nobody is that nice." He said.
"It was back in my hometown" It truly was. Not sure if it existed here, but I think it was wiped out when Bahemoth came? Or was that Leviathan? The Southeast Asia region wasn't exactly explained much in the book,s so who knows?
He huffed a laugh, more like a gear grinding, but with humour.
After a moment, he asked quietly, "So this new body… it'll hold up? Even with my power?"
"It's Terran-grade alloy mixed with a new Neosteel carbon lattice similar to the arm. You could probably let a truck hit you, and the truck would apologise."
"…Nice."
Before I could say anything, I was interrupted by Monica-
"Commander."
Her tone wasn't urgent, but it had that you need to see this weight behind it.
A holo-screen shimmered into view above the table, flickering to life with blue light.
And what she showed me, on top of an abandoned house somewhere outside near the outskirts of the Trainyard, was a girl, yeah? and that girl curled under a torn black hoodie like a stray cat in a storm, except there's no storm. Just loneliness, and like she spawned camp there just to ambush me.
Shadow Stalker.
Of course, it was her.
Monica zoomed in. The image sharpened. The girl was asleep if you could call that knotted, half-ready posture "sleep," with that stupid white creepy mask of hers..ugh. Crossbow slung across her chest. Mask a little off slanted to the side, almost exposing her real face. Dirt smudged across her cheeks a little. Dark circles under her eyes like she'd been awake for a week…or possibly waiting to ambush me.
She's here to ambush me, right? I dont see any other reason other than…oh, she wants an upgrade on her gear? I did give her an invite after all to see me.
"Surveillance indicates she arrived late last night," Monica said. "She has not attempted to approach. However, she has not left the perimeter either."
Trainwreck leaned forward, mechanical fingers tapping the table.
"Who's the kid?…Is she sleep-stalking?"
"Hmm..Just a brat I met targeting the ABB and civilians.," I muttered.
It didn't surprise me that she'd seen yesterday's fight if she was in the area stalking ABB mooks. The ABB hadn't exactly been subtle, I haven't exactly been subtle with this huge Command Centre suddenly appearing out of nowhere.
. Their warehouse was hit recently by a gas attack, and I have enough ammunition to vaporise anything in the vicinity or to arm a small country eventually. Either one of those could be a problem.
Someone like Shadow Stalker with her Predator and Prey mentality? She would seek me out after that beatdown, couldn't take the loss to her ego … she'd sniff out that kind of chaos like blood in water and find me eventually.
But waiting outside the territory?
All night?
Sleeping on a rooftop?
That wasn't reconnaissance. I have a stalker who named herself shadow stalker, and somehow I think she took that loss a little too personally. If she saw me take down a squad of ABB with baseball bats and guns with 3 of my SCVs and still decided to muck around here. I wonder what she wanted then? I crossed my arms and leaned back, staring at the holo-feed.
"What the hell do you want, kid…" I murmured.
Shadow Stalker had a reputation from the internet back in my old universe. They call that Fanon. Reckless and vicious, maybe a little shitty psychopath with that weird Predator prey mentality she got going on, A lone-wolf type with more kills than she should've had at her age if I hadn't stopped things. Probably she already did, but I won't dwell on it. I'm an immigrant and an alien in the truest sense of the word. This world ain't my home, not even in the same dimension. So I won't judge her based on my world and my own sensibilities.
That doesn't change the fact that she is quite unhinged as portrayed under the impression of a certain "Taylor Hebert" How true is any of that opinion? Who knows. She is
the sort of person who bites first and asks questions only if you're still alive after getting pinned by bolts.
And yet here she was, curled up like someone who didn't know where to go, a little too innocent that I tend to forget that the little dipshit still goes to school in this world. Just another child forced with powers, getting manipulated by a brainworm to use those powers. Good..bad? Doesn't matter as long as you get to feed into it.
"Monica," I said, "has she made contact with anyone?"
"No. She observed multiple shifts of patrol SCVs but did not interfere with their routes. Her behaviour pattern suggests… hesitation."
Hesitation from her? Now isnt that something interesting? You learn something new every day.
"What do you think she wants?" Trainwreck asked, breaking the silence.
I exhaled slowly.
"If she wanted to attack, she would've taken a shot the moment she had a vantage point. If she wanted to run, she wouldn't still be there.I think she's here on my invitation, or…she wanna put a bolt to my head. Both could be true, too." I stared harder at the screen, brow furrowing. "So either she's waiting for me…"
"…or she wants help," Trainwreck finished.
I didn't answer because that possibility was uncomfortably close to what I was thinking. A lone, unstable, half-feral teenager camping on our border after watching us tear through a gang like paper?
Testing the fence like a wild animal trying to decide if the people inside were predators
or a place to hide from something worse. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, another problem I didn't wanna deal with. I ain't cut out to babysit teenagers. Knew that since I worked as a coach before. Coaching a bunch of kids and guiding them is enough for one lifetime, but if she needs it, then what?
"Damn it… what are you doing out there, Stalker?"
I took my visor and suit up to meet her out there. "Stay here, I'll go see what she wants from me" Traiwreck just shrugged it off "Sure thing, boss, stay safe" I dont think i'll have any trouble. The door to the Command Centre hissed open as the lock disengaged, and I went out of the pressurised Cabin Hall. Very impressive stuff.
Dirt finally hit the ground as I got out fresh with my Dreamhack hoodie and new visor with my basic Terran civilian infantry armour. Don't think I needed an upgrade ever. This hidden streetwear is enough for whatever is out there. Not to mention, I might just build a holoshield myself later on.
SCV skirted around me and stopped. I look up at the SCV and then just smile, "Hey there buddy, open your hatch up, I wanna go meet a certain teenager out there"
SCV1 seems happy, "Roger dodger, boss! SCV1 reporting for duty!" the ever chipper one from my bot. The other SCV didn't care for the personality chip, my very first SCV here in this world, when the goddess who lost the bet sent me here.
I climbed into the cockpit and drove upwards towards where Shadow Stalker lay down and slept like a slob. SCV-1 crouched beside the command centre like a steel gorilla waiting for orders. Its cockpit opened with a hiss, and I climbed in, sealing myself into the smell of oil, ozone, and recycled air.
"Alright, SCV-1," I muttered as I grasped the controls, "let's go meet our rooftop stalker."
The engine rumbled warmly, and the mech lumbered forward with heavy, ground-shaking steps.
Shadow Stalker was perched on the ledge again, Crossbow across her knees. She didn't flinch at the thunderous metallic thud, thud, thud of SCV-1 approaching, even when she knew I was riding it. But she did raise an eyebrow.
"Seriously?" she called out. "You show up in a forklift mech like you're cosplaying?"
I flipped the external speakers on.
"Cosplay? This is state-of-the-art Terran engineering. You saw what it did to the ABB"
"It looks like a space forklift."
"It's a multi-purpose modular construction vehicle, thank you." I said candidly. Space Construction Vehicle, hence the name SCV, but I'm not about to tell her that nu-uh. I can be petty about things. She doesn't need to know she's right.
She snorted but stood up, hands on her hips. "Let me guess. You thought rolling in with a robot would make you look cool?" But it is cool!
"It worked on you."
"It did not."
"It totally did."
She clicked her tongue and crossed her arms, pretending she wasn't impressed by a six-ton industrial mech stomping toward her. I knew it. Even girls like a cool mech, haha! Mech girls are awesome too.
"Fine," she said. "I'll give it this, it's loud enough I could hear you coming from, like, two blocks away."
"It wasn't meant to be stealthy." I mean. Could I do stealthy SCV, sure, maybe. Do I want to? Hell naw. Rock and roll, baby, Country style. We're gonna farm metal and be loud as heck.
"No, really?" She gestured at the machine. "Next time, try sneaking up on someone without announcing your presence to the entire city."
I leaned forward in the cockpit.
"Next time, try not sleeping on my rooftop like a creep. What you want now, girlie, creeping on a parahuman and a Tinker base like this?"
"Shut up..you invited me, remember?" she muttered.
SCV-1 stopped right in front of her, towering over the ledge. I opened the hatch and popped up like I was standing in the world's most ridiculous convertible. There wasn't a seat for two people.
Shadow Stalker squinted up at me. "Since when do construction bots come with a sunroof? Wanna wave at passing fans? There are no extra seats in there."
" You gonna get in or not? Let's head to my base."
A twitch. Her smirk stretched wide.
"Oh, don't tempt me. I know you're moonlighting, making noodles. Noodle boy ring any bell? I'm sure the internet would kill for a clip of you driving a mech while making broth."
I pointed at her. "You saw that, huh? Fucking hell..I knew just cheap sunglasses and a hoodie couldn't really mask my handsomeness."
She gritted her teeth and snarled, "Fuck you, you're just some asian dipshit, and you look like shit!"
I groaned, rubbing my face. "Why do you enjoy my suffering? I mean…okay. What do you want?"
"Gear me up. I wanna hit ABB mooks like you do."
We traded looks for a while like a Mexican standoff. Except there's no Mexican. Just an angsty black girl and an Asian. hers sharp and mocking, mine tired and done with everything. Then her expression softened, just a fraction.
"You actually came out here to ask for free gear? Huh..," I said quietly.
"Yeah. I've been camping outside your territory since last midnight. Figured that was worth checking and seeing what a Tinker like you was doing..I didn't expect to see a whole Industrial Friggin Complex out here! The PRT is gonna shit themselves and your mechs beating the shit outta those ABB gangs"
I shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. What can I say? I'm too good at this. They probably think I bided my time to build this, but suckers..I built all of this in a week.
"Didn't know if you'd show. Guess the mech made it hard to miss and that big structure over there…what the hell is that thing anyway?" She said.
"Subtlety is overrated, I dont do that kind of shit,, After what I've done. Stealth isnt an option really. That shit was gone out of the door the minute this Command Centre was ready and operational.
"Tell that to the ABB," she muttered. "They're still freaking out about the 'robot builder guy' who humiliated them."
"…Please tell me you didn't call me that."
She grinned.
"Oh, I have much worse names for you."
"You little shit, I swear if you break the unwritten rules I'd expose you to."
Her laughter interrupted me, short and surprised, like she wasn't used to laughing with anyone.
"Relax," she said. "If I wanted to expose you, I could've done it before breakfast."
"Comforting, really comforting uh-huh..Miss stalker."
"Besides, you dont know who I am, do you? But I know you-"
I leaned against the cockpit rim." Oh? And I dont know you? Hello there, Sophia Hess, how's Winslow treating ya? Got any gossip with Emma and Madison lately? You've been bullying that Taylor girl a lot, haven't you? And what's that?"
She hesitated." The fuck- how did you find out?"There it is, that predatory glint. Not so though, aren't you?
" Hey, dumbass. What part of Tinker do you not understand? Looking up stuff is something. Let's just say I have some second-hand intel on every cape around here."
"So the prey finally comes out to meet the predator," she drawled.
Here we go.
I dusted off my jacket. "Pretty sure predators don't sleep in the rafters like pigeons." Her smile didn't falter. "I was observing you. Pattern recognition. Habitat analysis." She tapped her temple. "Basic hunting instincts. You were snoring on the rooftop too"
She scowled. "I do not snore."
"Uhh..yes, you do. Wanna see recordings of it?"
Shadow Stalker huffed, rolling her shoulders, bow swinging on its strap. "You know," she said, stepping closer with the swagger of someone who had never been told 'no' in her life, "Most people don't talk back to me. I like seeing how people react when you poke them in the soft spots, not the other way round, dipshit."
"Yeah, I got that.I really do"
Her growl and frown lessened, but no less pissed off getting outed like that"Besides, you're not like the usual prey. You fought the ABB, built a damn fortress…" She cocked her head a little as if she's thinking. "You're… not what I expected."
The way she said it was not a compliment, more like a hunter discovering a specimen worth mounting on the wall. Honestly? A little creepy, especially with that shitty white mask on.
"So," she continued, casually circling me, "here's the thing: I know who you are. I know what you do. I know you're Noodle Boy."
"Please, little lady, don't call me that." Dear lord...why Auntie Zhang, why... Why Cant i just look like a hobo and work there.
"Oh, I'm absolutely calling you that, and what the fuck did you just call me? Little what?"
"What's wrong with little lady? You are a girl and younger than me? Ugh, this is getting nowhere. Shadow Stalker… why have you been camping outside my base?"
She shrugged, gaze sweeping the command centre in the distance.
"This city is full of weaklings. Wannabes. Panic-ridden losers calling themselves capes. But you?" She jabbed a thumb toward SCV-1 towering behind me. "You're doing something real. I know you're aiming for Lung. Taking territory. That's predator behaviour."
I stared at her. the fuck is she on about? "That's not what predators do," I said, still trying to wrap my thoughts around this. Predators just eat meat. They dont take territories, do they? They just mark it."It is in my worldview. She got some chunibyou shit going on here.
"That's the problem." She didn't deny it. Instead, she leaned against the rooftop railing, one knee up, looking like a smug gargoyle.
"So," she said lazily, "are you going to pretend you didn't come all this way because you wanted to talk to me?"
I crossed my arms. "I came because you were spying."
"Whatever," she corrected. "Predators track interesting prey."
"I'm not a Predator. And you're definitely not my prey…" What the fuck? What's up with this conversation?
"We'll see," she said.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Do you want to come down? Talk inside? Maybe not on a windy roof where you sleep. It's almost 9 am in the morning for godsakes."
She lifted a brow. "Why would I follow you? I don't take orders."
"It wasn't an order. Dont you want free gear? W-would you just get in…please?"
She considered this and then smirked. "Fine. I'll humour you. Besides…" She patted SCV-1's armoured knee. "I want to ride the forklift."
"It's not-you know what, fine. Welcome to the forklift. Hop on" I gave up. Never fight words with a teenager; she just beats you to her level.
She grinned triumphantly, like she'd just claimed a kill. "Lead the way, Noodle Boy."
"Oh shut up and just get in." She laughed, and for a split second, I wondered if I had just invited a wolf into my home. If she only knew what I was just thinking she probably would feel smug about it, too, with her weird predator vs prey mentality of hers.
She got into the cockpit and swerved behind me, hunching in the tightness of the space, but there's still some room. "Hmm, you could build it a little smaller. The PRT and every gang on the block is gonna notice this. A bunch of mechs ain't gonna stop all of them"
No shit. It's either this or get jumped by a happy trigger dragon or Coil with his magic Snipers everywhere due to that shitty parallel powers of his anyway. I'd take my chances. I'm already formulating a plan to take down that overgrown lizard in the least possibly effort I can think of.
By the time we reached the command centre's mess hall, Trainwreck was halfway through a third bowl of Kitza, metal hands clinking against the tray. His new Terran-tech limbs gleamed freshly polished, servo motors humming softly as he took another slice . Monica prepared extra of course.
He turned at the sound of footsteps. Or rather, the monotone thudding from Shadow Stalker's combat boots. We have to get her out of that stupid costume of hers. Combat boots and those shitty masks gotta go. The pseudo purple robin outfit kinda works if she didn't look like Jason Vorhees out for blood.
The moment Trainwreck saw her, his eyes widened. The moment she saw him, her entire expression recoiled like she'd just walked into a dumpster.
"What the hell is that?! " she said as her arm turned to her Crossbolt, her fight or flight instinct on full display.
Trainwreck stared at her, spoon halfway to his mouth and didn't care much. Not like she could do anything to him with a crossbolt.
"…Rude?"
Shadow Stalker stepped closer, hand drifting to her crossbow like she was eyeing a trophy.
"You didn't tell me you had a metal… zombie… thing living here."
"Hey," Trainwreck grumbled, "I'm not a thing."
Shadow Stalker circled him once. Slowly, while assessing him to see if he's a threat, Predatory-like personality. I can't believe it even bleeds into her everyday interaction. Was she always like this, even in real life?
I moved to step between them, and she waved me off aggressively, "No, no, let me guess."
She pointed at Trainwreck.
"Breaker? Changer? Some kind of scrap-eating Case 53?"
Trainwreck stood up with a screech of metal chair legs. His new arms whirred, plates shifting subtly.
"What's it to you, girlie? You gonna throw down or what?," he grumbled. " The young boss upgraded me. He didn't have to, but he did."
Shadow Stalker raised a brow. "Congratulations. You're now a pseudo-property forklift."
"HEY—!" She leaned in closer, inhaling slightly.
"…You smell like a junkyard and piss. When was the last time you took a bath?"
Trainwreck sputtered, visibly offended. "I smell like MACHINE OIL, dang it! Can't exactly take a bath when you're full of machine parts, can you?! The thing will rust faster than a rust bucket.."
"Same thing, you smelly motherfucker..Just dont come near me."
He looked at me helplessly. "Hey, Boss, she's bullying me."
"You're literally a six-foot metal Cyborg," she deadpanned. "Grow a spine, or…huh…do you even have one?"
"!"
He activated one of the servos in his arms out of indignation, making the limb snap open with a sharp clank. Huh..was that new? Didn't think he could do that with the basic arm design I gave him. Interesting application of his powers.
Shadow Stalker didn't even flinch. Instead, she just smirked and kept egging him, "Oh. Cute trick. Do you fetch too?"
"OKAY THAT'S IT LIL' BITCH!"
I jumped forward as Trainwreck surged, his new hydraulics powering a step that rattled the floor. Shadow Stalker blurred into shadow form instantly, turning into a swirling cloud of black smoke and slipping behind him before reforming.
She poked his new metal back. "Boop."
Trainwreck roared immediately and almost threw the Kizza to her face, but I stopped him.
"Shadow..can you please stop poking the guy?" I yelled.
"He started it," she lied immediately.
"I WAS EATING BREAKFAST!"
"Then chew faster."
I dragged a hand down my face. "Why are you like this?"
Shadow Stalker shrugged.
"It's called personality. You wouldn't understand, Noodle Boy."
Trainwreck froze but slowly turned to me.
"Noodle… boy?"
Shadow stalker snapped her phone as she retrieved it from her pockets and showed a short video uploaded by Jinho's friends or something. I wanted to take it down with Monica, but that wouldn't serve any purpose other than showing up a bunch of red flags. It's better to just leave it there organically..But I didn't expect the backlash and consequences,s of course. Who could?
That reminds me, in a few hours I gotta to meet up with the noodle shop to work part-time. I dont need the money, but I do need the civilian Identity. I held up my hands in defeat since there's no way to stop it. "Please don't make this a thing. I still have to work at the noodle shop"
Trainwreck grinned widely.
"Oh, it's a thing, boss, this is funny. You have fans," as he read the stuff online and on the comment section from Shadow Stalker's phone. That reminds me, does Trainwreck have a phone? He wouldn't be able to use one before; he has normal, disposable fingers and thumbs now, so he could use one.
I still have 2 spare phones I swiped during the ABB raid on that warehouse. I could just give one to him once I set up a SIM card.
Shadow Stalker beamed, proud of herself, still going on and on about that Noodle boy shit. Frankly, I didn't give a rat's ass about that, but not when it started affecting my alter ego like this: "For someone with a tinkerbase, you're way too easy to mess with. Stop being such a dipshit and own it up" she added.
"I didn't invite you to breakfast," I muttered. I really didn't..She wanted to give, I'd just give her better protection and then let her loose, maybe even ask her to go join the PRT before they forcefully nab her and chain her like a dog, sending her ass off to another state for Summer bootcamp before getting involved in an Endbringer fight doing rescue and felt even more bitter when she comes back.
I wonder if I could prevent that?
"Of course you did," she said, plopping down in a chair like she owned the place.
"You built a base. You put up defences. You beat down ABB goons and you make noodles, what else can't you do?" She propped her boots on the table. "And interesting people get my attention."
Trainwreck leaned toward me, whispering loudly:
"Is she staying?"
I sighed.
"I'm still thinking about it? Mind say not in a million years ."
Shadow Stalker smirked, arms crossed as she watched us both. "Too bad. Because I want in on whatever you two are building here."
Trainwreck turned to me with a deadpanned look..
"She's not leaving, boss…"
Shadow Stalker leaned back, predator's grin returning."You heard me, Noodle Boy."
Her eyes glittered with interest, like she found this all amusing "I'm not going anywhere." On one hand..she's a pain in the ass.
On the other?
Hmm…
Maybe I could use this as a bargaining point.
Monica's alert flickered across the holographic panel just as Trainwreck finished sulking over Shadow Stalker's earlier insults. New body and legs are complete. The timing was perfect, almost suspiciously so. "The fabricator is ready, Commander"
Shadow Stalker was surprised by the sudden sound coming from the speakers around us "Dont mind her, she's just my adjutant" Shadow Stalker remained sceptical but didn't say a thing. We're at the lobby now, so she wouldn't be able to see Monica's UED body at the observation deck above.
I just sighed and turned to Trainwreck, " Come on, let's finish your body modifications and see if you can do something about it " I turned to Shadow Stalker and asked, "You coming?"
She nodded and didn't say much, "I wouldn't miss it, I wanna see what you can do here"
I led the way to the medbay, Shadow Stalker following at a lazy pace behind us, twirling her mask on one finger as if this was some sort of field trip rather than a full-on cybernetic reconstruction since she didn't bother keeping her identity in here. Trainwreck didn't care at all, and me? I already know who she is; nobody here cares enough for it I suppose.
The medbay hummed with soft blue lights when we entered, sterile and quiet, every surface polished metal and reinforced plating. The new body lay on the primary fabrication cradle with sleek Terran neosteel alloy plating, integrated servos, reinforced spinal struts, the same black and silver motif, and limb joints designed for strength far beyond baseline human limits. It looked powerful. Purpose-built. Clean.
A stark contrast to the mismatched scrap Trainwreck had been forced into before.
Trainwreck approached the new chassis slowly. Even without words, his awe was written across the shifting plates of his current metal face. I could see the tension in his posture, hope mixed with fear. I'm sure inserting those servos hurts like hell, and he has some sort of aversion to pain, even if he doesn't show it. Possibly why his breaker status is that way. A past abuse to his former life before he lost his memories and became case 53 after getting dumped by Cauldron..
Dear lord. There's also that piece of headache to deal with. Nothing I wanna deal with right now. Out of sight, out of mind. Cauldron can go fuck itself.
Poor guy, he'd never had anything like this. Never had anything built for him; instead, of patched together from desperation.
Shadow Stalker lounged against a medbay pillar, silent, eyes sharp behind the shadowed mask she now wore again. No dumb commentary. No snide remarks or snarky remarks, she's just watching silently.
Which is kinda unnerving to me. But I appreciate the effort to stay silent.
I guided Trainwreck onto the primary table and activated the restraints and clamp. It's not to imprison him, but to keep him stable during transfer. The lights dimmed as the system initiated. Mechanical arms extended from the ceiling, unfolding like surgical flowers made of chrome.
His old body came apart slowly, piece by piece, screws disengaging, plates retracting, actuators loosening. Every clattering component that dropped into the extraction bin felt like shedding an old life. I can see abit of flesh pieces coming off as well, it seems like some sorta flesh tendril too. Shadow Stalker didn't show it, but I could see her micro movements, like her arms clenching in disgust. Probably not used to it.
The new chassis opened itself, receiving him.
Neural cabling his power's definition of nerves extended, linking to ports and interfaces far smoother than the welded-together mess he had before. Trainwreck winches a little, I guess it does sting a little. I couldn't empathise with it, of course. A little pain for new body parts.
The medbay machinery synced with his biology, calibrating the new body parts, matching voltage, mapping weight distribution. His power accepted the new parts instantly, flowing into them like water into a shape it was always meant to fill.
Shadow Stalker's posture shifted slightly, straightening, attentive. Not judgmental now… curious about all the tech around us and what I was doing.
The new limbs locked into place with soft metallic clicks. Servo lines lit with blue. Power conduits engaged. The torso sealed shut with a hiss of pressurised air. The system chimed completion.
Trainwreck's new body rose slowly from the cradle like steady, controlled, and strong to boot, too. His silhouette was different now: broader shoulders but smaller of course, balanced limbs, smooth plating that made him look less like a walking scrap pile and more like… someone who looked like an ordinary human. Someone rebuilt to look like a Gary and not a Gorilla.
He flexed one hand, and the servos responded perfectly.
Trainwreck flexed his new toes slowly, deliberately, like he was afraid the whole thing might vanish if he moved too fast. The servos hummed smoothly, no grinding, no stutter. Perfect. The body started breathing in; the bionic lungs seem to be working well.
"Holy hell…" he whispered, voice deeper with the new chest acoustics. "I can feel everything. It fits. It actually fits."
"Well, yeah," I said, leaning back against the console and trying not to look smug. "How do you feel? Any odd sensation?"
He snorted a little, and then? an actual, genuine laugh. First time I'd heard it.
From behind him, Shadow Stalker crossed her arms and tilted her head, mask glinting in the medbay lights. "So that's it? He just… plugs into some sci-fi skeleton and becomes a little normal-looking? At least his body is a lot more intimidating"
Trainwreck stiffened. "Well…"
"Easy," I interrupted before they started round two. "It ain't a skeleton, it's more like a chassis. Cybernetics is designed to sync with biological patterns."
Shadow Stalker huffed. "You're so weird, Dreamhack. I thought powers were bullshit, then I watched what you could do..hell, I thought your specialisation was buildings..now this?."
"You're stalking me at seven in the morning," I reminded her. "Let's not play the 'who's weird' challenge."
She ignored that.
Trainwreck turned toward me, new limbs shifting with clean, tight precision. "Thank you. Seriously. I, -You don't know what it's like, wearing junk that barely works. This is… this is the first time I feel like my body isn't about to fall apart."
"Dont thank me just yet" I said. "Your powers could just start cannibalising for parts, I'm sure it would soon, before you feel the urge, tell me, and I would like to document how and what it evolves it into. I also know you can create implants.."
He nodded, eyes shining with gratefulness, "You wanna see what I could do with this, right?."
I nodded, "Yeah, and see if I can replicate it for folks to use, maybe see if we can improve on it."
Shadow Stalker's gaze flicked to me. "So what's the plan? Are you making an army? A robot buddy? A personal pet project?"
"Definitely not the last one," I muttered.
She smirked behind the mask. "Could've fooled me. You're playing doctor with a villain."
Trainwreck bristled. "I'm not a villain."
Shadow Stalker snorted. "Yeah. Sure."
I stepped forward, tapping Trainwreck's new body to test the mechanical response. "Look. He wanted out. I'm giving him a clean slate. Upgraded hardware included."
"Is this what you're doing?" Sophia asked, stepping closer. "Picking up strays? Healing them? Recruiting? What the hell are you even trying to do? I thought you were trying to build a gang?"
"No, that was never my intention", I shot back. Trainwreck glanced between us, awkward. "Uh. Should I… go test the legs or something?"
"Yeah," I said. "Walk a lap. Get used to the balance. Don't punch anything yet."
"Got it."
He headed to the far end of the medbay, each step steady and precise, without that odd gait he used to have, like walking with two rhinos underneath his legs. no lurch, no scraping metal. Watching him move felt like watching someone breathe freely after drowning.
"Come with me, we're heading towards the armoury for your new gear"
That got her excited, "What sort of stuff you got for me?"
" Military gear. I'm sure you would like it"
I stepped over to the storage rack and pulled out the Dominion Trooper armour, carefully lifting the gleaming plates. It was standard issue for elite female troopers in the Dominio, sleek, reinforced, lightweight enough for mobility, heavy enough to stop a pistol round, and every joint calibrated for combat efficiency.
I already made this much earlier when I promised her to make it, except I left the fabricated version done in the Supply Depot. I think Monica moved it here with the SCVs while I was sleeping. The SCVs still move around in the compound entrance, and there's a separate garage for the SCVs for maintenance.
The helmet gleamed under the medbay lights, the visor coated with integrated sensors, thermal, motion, low-light, and electronic readouts. A HUD designed to give a battlefield advantage without clutter.
Shadow Stalker didn't move, just watched, arms crossed. Her posture was relaxed, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. She knew this wasn't a gift. It was a statement.
I held the armour out, and she stepped forward. No words passed between us. She began strapping herself in, slotting limbs into place with practised efficiency. The plates clicked with quiet precision, servos humming softly as they calibrated to her frame.
The helmet went on last. She lowered it over her face, and the visor slid into place. The heads-up display flickered to life, casting a subtle glow against the shadowed medbay walls. Everything comes in black and a little purple hue, just the way like her old stuff.
I stepped back, observing. Shadow Stalker turned, flexing her arms, shifting weight. Every movement felt sharper, faster, more precise. Her silhouette changed, less human, more predator.
She's smiling with the biggest grin on her face. I guess she likes it. The room felt smaller, tighter, and the air heavier as she stood there, fully suited.
I nodded once. That was enough.
She didn't speak either. She didn't need to. The armour spoke for itself.
I folded my arms. "Alright, here's the deal," I started. "I've got a job for you. Something that actually pays you for your effort, gives you a legal reason to move around Brockton Bay without drawing every cop and gang in the city on top of you."
I have her 5 thousand dollars. A stack of money I swiped off from the ABB.
"You're coming with me to the PRT HQ after this", I said.
Her head tilted slightly, the visor scanning me like she was weighing every word. "What? " she said.
I shook my head. "Not a job like you think. I want you to join the PRT as a probationary ward. Not permanently. Not even officially. Just under my supervision."
The armour shifted as she crossed her arms. "A PRT ward? You've got to be joking."
"No joke," I said. "Look, if the PRT finds you next week after your little ABB show, they're not going to ask politely. You're lucky nobody died that day."
She snarled at me, "Tough luck, those shit deserves it"
I wasn't impressed because this was serious "They'll force you into their program, set conditions, maybe strip you of your license to operate, maybe worse. They're not subtle. I can make it so you're under my watch first. You get to negotiate your terms, keep some freedom, and I handle the politics."
Her head turned, visor tracking me like a predator considering prey. She didn't relax. She didn't move closer either. The silence stretched long enough for a clock to tick in my skull.
"You're suggesting I take a leash voluntarily, just to avoid getting one forced on me? Fuck that! Who do you take me for?" she said finally, low, incredulous.
"Yes, you must do it," I replied. "There's no way about this. If they catch you? They're gonna ship your ass to Alexandria boot camp, and you won't see the light of day. This way?. You get the advantage of choice. You get a buffer between yourself and the PRT bureaucracy. And, let's be honest," I added, nodding toward her new armour, "this? Doesn't come cheap. Consider it part of the deal." Actually, it's free and made from gas and metal, but eh, I dont need to tell her that.
The visor tilted slightly down, scanning the floor. Her shoulders shifted subtly, a sign of conflict I couldn't see but could feel in the way the air moved around her.
Finally, she exhaled sharply. "Must I really do this? fuck…"
"It's a start. You get to keep the gear, too, and I'll upgrade that shitty crossbow of yours so you can shoot penetrating arrows and pierce tanks. No killing, please." I said. "You're gonna have to make this work. The no-killing rule must be observed at all costs. After a few months, I'll get you out, and by that time, the killing issue part won't matter."
She didn't reply. Just turned, walked to the far end of the medbay, testing the limits of the armour, each step echoing softly.
I watched her move, calculating. For someone like her, freedom was everything. For me, keeping her alive and maybe preventing all the bullshit that was in her life so she wouldn't turn out so bad.
She looked down "Can't I just join you?"
Technically, she can. But it would look bad on both of us, too. I needed her to learn how to be nice, get rid of that stupid prey and Predatory bullshit she got going on or at least turn it into something less diabolical, to something along fish are friends, not food mentality.
Perhaps an aggression inhibitor? Ghost Units often use those in their gear to prevent ghosts from attacking their superiors. These implants can be surgically removed, working on similar principles as a psychic dampener. I could just make something more permanent that would benefit her, too.
I sighed and took out a tiny bracelet I reserve for myself and went to the Workshop to tweak some things in it. Shadow Stalker was still thinking about what I said and didn't mind what I was doing
I put a chip inside the bracelet, too. The Aggression Inhibitor chip was installed within the Shield Matrix I created for myself for protection. Capable of stopping something like a siege cannon artillery once before it breaks. The shield is capable of restoring itself over time, similar to Glory Girl's invincibility, but much slower. Gallant could probably detect the changes in her emotion emitters, it but he won't know where it came from and just thinks it's just Shadow Stalker suppressing her anger really well.
PSI-enhanced humans couldn't even suppress this. I doubt shard powers could. I already had Monica scan Trainwreck, and I suppose even now Monica is scanning shadow stalker brainwaves so we can compare notes and how to stop the beta inhibitor wave lengths that're transmitting their powers.
I haven't exactly tested it to see how fast the charges could charge up.
"Take this for your protection. I'll even sweeten the deal with this"
What's this? She asked.
" A shield matrix. It could stop a tank artillery once before it breaks. Need time to regenerate, should do you some good on patrols, I hope you could also showcase to the PRT about my invention with that gear of yours"
I gave a grin, "Wouldn't you wanna flex your new gear to those wards? Show them how better you are compared to them?" I knew this wasn't a good way to do it, but stroking her ego like this would entice her to join as well.
And the stuff I make will surely interest the PRT.
Wouldn't this be enough?
"Deal" she said.