12 - Fics I Read 2.0

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Stranger Than Fiction (Worm Tinker of Fiction SI) by Throwaway1971

Books » Private Rated: M, English, Romance, Words: 110k+, Favs: 105, Follows: 131, Published: Dec 24, 2023

5Chapter 12: Twelfth Page

Disclaimer: I own Jackshit

AN: Ok, firstly, MERRY CHIRSTMAS, EVERYONE!

Secondly, sorry about the long wait between the last chapter and this one, but life was kicking my ass, primarily with work-related shite and basically leaving me too dead on my feet to do much writing recently, and what writing I could do was bits and pieces, here and there. Not helped by the fact that this chapter has been slamming my head against a wall and just refusing to play nice. Admittedly, I'd probably call this a filler chapter, since it's going into a few things that I've mentioned or hinted at previously and wanted to bring them into focus, at least once. Still, hope you lot enjoy the Christmas present, and have a great time over the holidays!

Enjoy!

XXX

"-othing I can do to change what's already been released, since Safeguard made sure to post the news of the Nine's death, along with advertising themselves, on as many social media sites as they could before we even knew what was going on last night. There's no changing the narrative on that front, I'm afraid, and the best that I can do is to try and soften the blow of what's coming next." Came the explanation of the Director of Public Image for the PRT and Protectorate, Glenn Chambers, as he continued. "The first wave of press releases has already been sent out and aimed to do exactly that. Press conferences are already being arranged, with the aim being to mitigate any loss of faith that the public might have in the PRT and Protectorate, but even that will only do so much. Honestly, even with these measures, we need a win. Something that can be used to divert the public's attention off the Slaughterhouse Nine and Safeguard, to get them to focus on something else, and let us take back the initiative in future news cycles."

"Indeed." Spoke Chief-Director Rebecca Costa-Brown, secretly also known as the internationally acclaimed Parahuman Alexandria, as she gazed at each of the individuals taking part in the meeting, via telepresence. "Public trust in the effectiveness of both the PRT and the Protectorate has already taken a nosedive due to Safeguard's actions, something that cannot be allowed to continue, as you all already know. As such, each of you will be tasked with carrying out a series of staggered high-tempo operations to remove Parahuman-related criminal organisations from your areas of responsibility, with the intended goal of these operations being, ideally, the complete removal of said organisations. Though, realistically, even the removal of a single organisation from each region would go a long way to restoring some measure of public trust. However, to ensure that this is successful, and increase the odds of the best possible outcome, a number of Watchdog's Thinker assets will be grouped up and assigned to function in support of each department as required. Questions?"

"How are we to handle groups that have been, previously, left alone due to Thinker assertions that any attempt to remove them would do more harm than good?" Was the first question, delivered by Director Kamil Armstrong of PRT Department #24, located in Boston. Even as he spoke, none needed to be told who he was referring to, as all Directors, once they reached their current post, had been briefed on the threat posed by certain groups and individuals, Blasto, Accord and the Butcher being three of them. Of course, that was without considering the dozens of others that were given similar treatment, with Nilbog and the Machine Army being two of the more extreme examples.

It was unfortunate, but such things were necessary, especially given the potential utility of the abilities represented by those that were carefully kept contained, ready for what was coming. Still, even with their potential use in defeating Scion, it did not make her current position, or that of the PRT's in general, any easier to deal with. Had Contessa agreed that one of them could be safely removed without any potential loss of capability, finding a cape that could replace them, one with a potentially heroic alignment, then it would have made her job so much easier. Not to mention, given her a massive amount of PR points and leverage to use against the PRT political opponents, silencing them for a time.

A pleasant fantasy, but a fantasy all the same, especially given the threat they all faced. The fact was that, despite how much she disliked it, ever single body that could be thrown into the fight mattered, regardless of their chosen alignment.

"Use your best judgement, but remember, we're looking for clear victories, if staggered and spread out. The last thing we need at this stage is a Pyrrhic victory, especially with public perceptions being as they are." Was the Chief-Director's answer, her face blank, concealing her inner thoughts as the various directors each took notes of various forms as she continued. "Likewise, we're not looking for cheap victories, as those might just make the situation worse, for similar reasons. So, again, exercise your best judgement on who you target."

"How much support can we expect from other departments, especially in relation to Protectorate support, to combat villain organisations and groups?" Came the question of another director, John Eastings, director of PRT department #15, based in Salt Lake City, Utah. Immediately, thanks to her Thinker power, she knew exactly why Eastings was asking that kind of question, and could see several others looking on with interest as a result. For similar reasons, she knew, since all those looking on were in similar situations, generally as a result of having limited numbers of Protectorate Heroes to utilise, being hard countered by the powers of local villains, having powers that reacted badly with those of the local Heroes, or a dozen other reasons beyond. Pointedly, in her own mind, she did not look towards Director Emily Piggot of Brockton Bay, who she could see from the corner of her eye, watching silently, but with great interest.

"That will be determined on a case-by-case basis, based on Thinker analysis of each request and the requesting departments situation in comparison to others." Was all the hidden Alexandria said on the matter, but not offering more on the subject, for several reasons. Primarily, while several cities could do with reinforcements, Brockton Bay was not going to be one of them, as to do so would disrupt the entire experiment currently being undertaken within it. Admittedly, she was unsure if there was even a point to continuing with it, especially given the heavy presence of Safeguard and its parent company, Cerberus, within it. However, Contessa and Doctor Mother had been adamant in continuing the experiment, especially after it had been discovered that the removal of the Slaughterhouse Nine had removed dozens of steps from Contessa's Path.

And yet, despite being glad to see the Nine finally put down, and Hero finally being avenged, a part of her couldn't stop wondering why it couldn't have happened sooner; Why it couldn't have happened before Hero had died; Before her friend had been torn apart and she'd been forced to stand aside and watch as his killer had been allowed to roam free for decades after. Even knowing that they had been a required component of the Path hadn't changed the fact that there were days she'd been sorely tempted to hunt them down and kill the Nine herself, especially Manton.

Unfortunately, that option had been taken from her, with her only solace being that Hero could rest easy, now that his killer had been put down, for good.

Never mind the aftermath she still needed to deal with...

As such, the meeting continued, with more questions coming from a dozen directors, visible through an array of wall mounted screens as they each took turns to ask questions, both of her and each other as the meeting slowly continued. With each answer, she worked carefully to sculpt expectations and assumptions within each of them, knowing each of them would come away with a specific view, already modelled out by Contessa and other Cauldron Thinkers prior to the meeting even taking place. Urgent work, but it was required, given the challenge placed in front of them, especially when they couldn't allow a potential obstacle to distract them, not when the survival of the entire Human race was on the line. As such, it was best to try and stay ahead of the curve, to be preventative about potential problems, rather than reactive. Admittedly, they'd gotten blindsided by the death of the Nine, but even that could work to their advantage, given enough time and effort.

Eventually, an hour later, with all questions exhausted, she was about to call the meeting to a close...

... Only for her phone to go off, drawing the attention of every director present in the meeting as it rang.

Immediately, her hand came down, pressing a button that put it on speaker mode as she stared down at the interrupting piece of plastic and circuits.

"Yes, what is it?" She demanded snappishly, the unspoken, but widely heard, implication being that the interruption had better be worth it, given that she'd left instructions not to be disturbed while she was in this meeting. The only exception she'd given was if something of vital importance had come up over the course of the meeting that required her immediate attention.

"Apologise for interrupting the meeting, ma'am, despite your instructions, but something's happened that you need to see." Was the rapid response of her Deputy-Director, Charles Davidson. "I've emailed the video clips of the events in question to your computer."

As he spoke, she saw the notification for new mail appear on her computer screen, causing her to click on it and bring the new email up on her screen. The email itself was blank, save for the video clips that were attached to it. A few taps of the keyboard were enough for her to share her screen with the rest of the directors in the meeting as she clicked on the first of the clips, already knowing that anything sent to her wouldn't be a security risk, thanks to both the many internal security measures in place, and Contessa.

Instantly, a media player appeared as the clip started, opening to a scene of conflict filmed with a mobile phone, and held in shaking hands as whoever recorded this tried to stay out of the line of fire. Almost as soon as that detail registered, the rest of the scene came into focus, showing a main road that was rapidly being emptied as one car, a heavily modified convertible, barrelled straight down the middle of it, zigging and zagging across the tarmac with reckless abandon. Thanks to her Thinker power, she easily recognised the two figures within the convertible, the entire contents of their files and threat assessments coming to the forefront of her mind instantly, despite the blurred nature of the video and the speeds involved.

The first of them, driving the convertible, was Roadrage, a Thinker/Tinker villain who specialised in upgrading and enhancing existing vehicles for better performance, and driving them at said levels of performance. The second, standing on the back seats, was Jackknife, a low Brute/Blaster, firing blasts of cyan energy from both arms as she waved them back and forth in an effort to hit the duo's pursuers. Said pursuers rapidly came into focus as they raced after the duo, five in total and each mounted on a painfully familiar motorbike, wearing equally-painfully familiar armour. Considering that someone wearing exactly the same armour, riding the exact same design of bike, had killed the entire Slaughterhouse Nine, and been the cause for countless briefings and threat assessments, it would have been impossible to not recognise such on sight.

And now, there was five of them.

Almost as soon as that realisation came, the clip reached its climax as the Silencers, to use the widely accepted nickname, sprang into action.

Had she not had her Thinker power, she'd have needed to rewind the footage and watch it in slow motion. As she watched, the two of the Silencers moved in a blur of motion that would have left many Movers in the dust, hands shifting as they leaned back to sit up on bikes before making throwing gestures. Lines of dark blue energy shot out, linking Silencers with their targets as both Roadrage and Jackknife found themselves being torn straight out of the car in the blink of an eye. Flying through the air, the pair had barely any time to react to the sudden change before being caught by the same Silencers that had pulled them from their car. With quick, precise and smooth motions, they were caught and thrown over the back of a bike before being locked in place as restraints clamped down on arms and legs. Dark blue energy flowed over them an instant later, freezing them in place and denying the pair of villains any form of escape, before they even had a chance to recognise that they had been arrested.

At the same time, another Silencer had moved to ride alongside one of their comrades as mechanical clamps extended out from the side of their bike, locking it to their comrade's bike. With that done, they stood from where they sat and jumped as more of the same dark blue energy gathered around them, only for them to disappear in a blot of dark blue that dissipated as they appeared over the runaway convertible, dropping them directly into the driver's seat. And, without skipping a beat, the Silencer now driving the convertible took control of it, slowing it down as the rest of the Silencers gathered around the convertible, driving off at a much more sedate pace, followed by the video ending shortly afterwards.

Silence reigned in the room as everyone tried to process what they had just witnessed, as the next video began to play. Even with her ability to process information, what she had just seen had staggering implications, ones that only got worse as the next video played, and the next one, and the one after that, until all nine clips had finished playing.

By the end of the ninth clip, it was apparent that whatever plans they'd been making needed to be scrapped, as the assumptions they had been working under had just been proven wrong in one of the most horrific fashions she'd witnessed in her time as both the Chief-Director of the PRT, Alexandria, and a member of Cauldron. Resources had already been committed to several initiatives, all meant to try and reclaim the public trust and to shift perceptions away from their apparent failure to kill the Slaughterhouse Nine. All of which had been built on the assumption that Safeguard only had either a single Parahuman member, or a small number of them, as with most Independent Hero groups that had sprung up.

An assumption that had just bitten them in the ass, badly, and meant that they'd been wholly unprepared for the reveal that Safeguard's roster of Parahumans was far, far larger than they'd previously believed. A fact made even worse by the number of highly visible arrests and take-downs that they'd just witnessed being conducted, or were in the process of being conducted. Something that, she was sure, was only the tip of the iceberg, a fact that only made this sudden change in situation even worse.

Soon, she knew, the PRT and Protectorate were going to find themselves in a fight for their continued survival and relevance, as both organisations and tools for Cauldron, and had just found themselves out of position and off-guard as their opponent had just blitzed them with multiple surprise attacks. Attacks that they couldn't even reply to, given that they'd already committed to fighting an entirely different battle, one that they'd assumed that they could win, only for this to happen.

Had she not been a Brute, Rebecca had little doubt that her teeth would have cracked from the way that she was grinding them together, knowing that there was little she could do to change what had just happened. They'd need to adapt going forwards, and change their strategy for dealing with Safeguard with this new information in hand. A short-term lose, in exchange for a long-term victory, which was all that truly mattered.

That, however, didn't mean she had to like it.

XXX

Observing the area below them, the Hurtling-Pattern Warrior-Drones of the fourth Hunt-Pack carefully plotted out their next course of action, as they had been for the last half-rotation of the planet. Invisible and undetected, they prowled across the top of a deprecated and dysfunctional remains of a Cattle-Stock repair facility, monitoring the actions of the various Cattle-Stock that trudged through unmaintained corridors. Sensors of a dozen kinds watched and collected data as the Cattle-Stock moved about, taking note of movements, predicting potential patrol patterns and calculating approach vectors as data was collected, moment by moment, as they waited for the moment to strike.

Already, they'd witnessed several of the Cattle-Stock within the facility fall into poorly functioning rest-cycles, a side effect of their poor maintenance and the use of several self-damaging substances. Those that remained online were barely any better, only achieving enough functionality to input more self-damaging substances into themselves, and little else. No attention was given to the facility's continued security, either internal or external.

Of those Cattle-Stock still online within the facility, few were considered a true threat to the Warrior-Drones, their weapons being categorised as either entirely ineffective or in such disrepair that they were classified as entirely non-functional. It was only due to the possibility of them summoning additional forces that the Cattle-Stock were even being considered as a potential threat, even if only via indirect means. Still, should that outcome come to pass, it had been accounted for, with various contingencies having been constructed and readied for exactly that.

However, should they achieve their primary objective, along with all secondary objectives, then such contingencies would be left unused.

As such, they remained, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike as calculations continued to filter through their Pack-mind, and to the Greater Hivemind beyond them. Countless possibilities being processed, constructed from both statistical modelling of potential events and Precognitive Augur-Sweeps. No possibility was left unaccounted for, as they waited for the right moment, the optimal time to strike.

Ultimately, that time came as they observed their target, the Host-Stock known as [Designation: Squealer; Sub-Designation: Priority Target-08, move away from the construct that they had been assembling. From the construct, they'd observed as the Host-Stock had moved to the other side of the facility's main repair bay, meandering around various other constructs at differing stages of assembly on unsteady, shuffling limbs. Tools skidded across the ground, uncaringly kicked by heavy boots that were dragged across the floor of the repair bay.

Eventually, they observed as the Host-Stock collapsed onto as stripped-down rest-cradle commonly used by several members of the Cattle-Stock they'd already observed. Poorly maintained, it creaked and groaned as the Host-Stock collapsed backwards onto it, paying no attention to the dirty patchwork condition of their chosen rest-cradle. Poorly self-maintained and lacking the energy to continue functioning beyond the current time, they observed as the Host-Stock quickly succumbed to a clearly needed rest-cycle within moments.

Witnessing this, the Hunt-Pack waited patiently, not moving immediately. Watching and waiting, they stayed posted around the dysfunctional facility for minutes more, having already seen other Cattle-Stock fall into rest-cycled, only to abruptly awaken soon after. The Host-Stock, by themselves, posed no threat to the Warrior-Drones, but such an event could cause complications that standing directives stated were to be avoided. Precognitive Augur-Sweeps backed this line of consideration, with the possibility of the Host-Stock being able to alert the Cattle-Stock to the presence of the Hunt-Pack being extremely likely, should they awaken early.

And so, they waited.

Fortunately, the Hunt-Pack did not need to wait long.

An hour, by Cattle-Stock time measurements, passed without any change in the Host-Stock's status, while the rest of the Cattle-Stock eventually found themselves falling into rest-cycles of their own. Once this confirmation was made, the Hunt-Pack moved into action.

Points of entry previously identified were accessed, primarily in the form of sky-facing observation portals. Nano-Disassemblers, Biotic Warp Fields and extended mono-edge blades were used to rapidly, and silently, remove the transparent barrier from each portal. With multiple points of entry secured, the Hunt-Pack moved in, dropping down from the top of the facility, into the repair bay. Eezo nodes flared with power as each Warrior-Drone dropped, reducing their effective mass even as Mass Effect Fields and integrated A-Pods allowed each Warrior-Drone to touch down without a single whisper or vibration being generated. Keeping their mass low, so as to not disturb any of the items left sprawled across the repair bay, they began to work.

Immediately, one of the Warrior-Drones vaulted from where it had landed, clearing the entire length of the repair bay in a single bound and crouched down where it landed, at the side of the Host-Stock's rest-cradle and gazing down at them. Without pause, a blur of dark blue energy surrounded the Warrior-Drone and the Host-Stock, smothering all sound from without, and doing likewise for any sound from within it. At the same time, four manipulator-tendrils rapidly grew out from the back of the Warrior-Drone and shot towards the Host-Stock, their speed enhanced by Hyperagility and Hyperspeed-casting Para-Psychic Drivers. In a blur of motions, the manipulator-tendrils were upon the Host-Stock, two going for their legs, binding shins to thighs before being both ankles together. A third manipulator-tendril slipped between the Host-Stock's legs, pressing upwards as it cupped their pelvis before wrapping around their waist. As the first coil formed, it pulled the Host-Stock's arms into itself, binding them to the Host-Stock's sides as more coils formed around their body.

Near instantly, the manipulator-tendril had wrapped around the Host-Stock three times, with a fourth coil forming across the Host-Stock's large mammalian glands, into them and causing excess flesh to spill out above and below the fourth coil. A fifth coil formed around the base of the Host-Stock's neck, followed by a sixth coil pressing up against the bottom of their jaw. With the third manipulator-tendril in place, the Warrior-Drone wasted no time and tightened it's hold, completely binding the Host-Stock in place as the coils of Nano-engineered muscles pressed into the Host-Stock's unyielding flesh.

The reaction was immediate, as the eyes of the Host-Stock shot wide, having been awoken by the pressure being applied across their entire body. Gagging, choking, the Host-Stock struggled to breath, air having been forcibly ejected from their inefficient lungs and their airflow restricted by the hold around their neck. Before the Host-Stock could even make a wheezing attempt to call for assistance, futile as it may have been, the tip of the third manipulator-tendril jammed itself into the Host-Stock mouth before expanding to fill the entire oral cavity, jamming the Host-Stock's jaw wide open and preventing any sound from escaping. Lastly, two secondary-tendrils wrapped around the Host-Stocks skull, acting as a redundant back-up measure to keep the tip of the manipulator-tendril in place.

With the Host-Stock bound and unable to resist, the last manipulator-tendril moved into place about their skull, it's tip opening like a cavernous maw. Lowering down, it began to swallow the top half of the Host-Stock's skull as secondary-tendrils extended from within it's internal cavity. Water, laced with sodium chloride and various proteins leaked from the Host-Stock's closed eyes. Eyelids were gently, but steadily, pulled open by thin secondary-tendrils, exposing the eyes themselves. Segments of the cavity's internal surface extended to press against them, colours flickering across surface of each elevated segment. Other secondary-tendrils slipped into the Host-Stock's auditory canal and olfactory cavity, before expanding within them, sealing them off from the outside world. Only air was allowed through the blockages, pumped in and out to keep the Host-Stock breathing.

Finally, with all the required bindings in place, colours played across the Host-Stock's vision, as strange sounds began to play at the edge of their hearing and odd tastes flickered across their tongue. Chemicals laced the air they breathed, giving them carefully arranged scents in coordination with the other signals being directed into the Host-Stock's senses. Almost immediately, the frantic, futile struggles of the Host-Stock disappeared, their body relaxing into their bindings as animalistic fear gave way to contentment. Tension faded from formerly struggling muscles, the Host-Stocks capability for thought smothered under the effects of the Cognitive Virus [Designation: Basilisk Hack; Sub-Designation: Reprogrammer].

With the Host-Stock fully bound and secured, Nano-spores began flowing from each segment of the manipulator-tendrils, flowing over the Host-Stock and preparing them to be transported back to the Hive. Exposed skin rapidly disappeared under a thick blanket of hardening Nano-Spores, as the false skins worn by the Host-Stock were dissolved by the spread of the Nano-Spores moving to cover the Host-Stock's entire body.

Soon enough, the layers of hardened Nano-Spores were complete, sealing the Host-Stock within, and preventing any traces of organic residue from escaping. What residue remained on the Warrior-Drone's manipulator-tendrils was rapidly broken down by excess Nano-Spores, removing any traces that could allow for scent-based tracking.

Now, fully bound and sealed away from the outside world, the layers of Nano-Spores acting as one more vector for the [Designation: Basilisk Hack; Sub-Designation: Reprogrammer, the Host-Stock was ready to be transported back to the Hive.

However, before moving to leave, the Warrior-Drones needed to conceal their presence and actions, least they draw the attention of the Cattle-Stock to the existence of the Hive, and the Alpha. A task that had begun the moment the process of securing the Host-Stock had started, carried out by the other Warrior-Drones present in the repair bay.

As the securing process had been carried out, the rest of the Warrior-Drones had moved through the repair bay, carefully studying every item present, taking high-resolution, high-intensity scans of everything they encountered. Scans had already been gathered of the abandoned facility, but such had been of low-resolution and intensity by necessity, so as to avoid potential detection, as unlikely as it was. Up close and within the facility, such was deemed to be unlikely, as everything was catalogued for further study and investigations by the more potent Minds of the Hive.

A side effect of this process was that the Warrior-Drones now knew the composition and construction of every item within the repurposed repair bay, even if they did not understand how such devices functioned. However, such understanding was not required, instead, aided by further Augur-Sweeps, all they required was the knowledge of which device would produce the most energetic endothermic reaction, after a sufficient delay. Once identified, the required alterations were quickly made as the Host-Stock had been fully prepared for transport back to the Hive.

Tasks completed, the Warrior-Drones moved to leave the dysfunctional facility, the Host-Stock secured against the back of one of the Warrior-Drones. Stealth systems activated fully the moment the Warrior-Drones exited the facility, causing them to vanish in an instant, undetectable to senses mundane, technological and otherwise, as they leapt into motion, intent on returning to the Hive.

It was only as they heard the sound of a detonation in the distance that they paused, calculating the source of the sound, before coming to a swift conclusion. Calculations confirmed the source of the detonation, signalling that the altered device had functioned exactly as had been required, and a significant endothermic reaction had been generated as it inevitably failed to function properly. The traces of their presence and activities removed, the Warrior-Drones resumed their course, all tasks complete and bringing with them their prize.

All in service to the Alpha and the Hive.

XXX

Closing the notebook, I considered the contents for a moment, even as fragments of my attention focused on other projects, constructing prototypes and carrying out calculations. In truth, Bonesaw had been absolutely brilliant, monstrous, but brilliant all the same. The notes she'd made had spelled that out in perfect clarity, showcasing a high level of intelligence, even as it documented the various experiments and tortures that had been conducted to acquire the results described within it's pages. Descriptions of reactions were freely intermixed with breakdowns of chemical formula and biological triggers, detailing the cause that had been used to generate the effect described. In many ways, the notebooks were one-part diary, one-part scientific research paper and one-part horror novel, all done with innocence of a child that had been groomed to be quite the little monster by Jack Slash.

It didn't make her death any less necessary, especially given the potential for biological warfare that she had possessed before she'd been silenced. However, it did make me curious as to what she could have done, who she could have been, if Jack Slash hadn't broken her, turned her into his plaything.

An interesting thought experiment, but little more than that.

Standing from my seat, I placed the notebook back on the desk, next to the dozens of other notebooks that I'd collected, all of which I'd read a dozen times already. Each time, I'd been looking for any further understanding or insight that might be gleamed from the hand-written notes of the Nine's Bio-Tinker. In many cases, I'd found some little nuggets of insight and brilliance that caused a shift in viewpoint or understanding, altering the way that some pages had been interpreted. Admittedly, I didn't need to physically read the books, but I'd always liked the physical sensation of reading, even after I'd started to use a Kindle in my previous life, and even more now, when I could review their contents with a thought, compiled from deconstructed scans of the very same books. A preference, to be sure, but one that helped me relax during whatever moments of peace I could find, regardless of the actual contents of my reading material.

Though, that wasn't to say that I wasn't taking full advantage of my Posthuman nature, as one just needed to look to the two storage drives that still lay upon my workstation, a dozen VR windows floating around them. Streams of Ceph Thought-energy threaded up from the surface of the workstation, connecting to each drive as data was siphoned out of each device, more being drawn out with each heartbeat-pulse of the energy streams. In the Hivemind, I could feel the Minds devouring every scrap of information that was dragged out of the Shard-constructed devices, dissecting every new morsel of information with a monomaniacal focus and ravenous hunger. Only the fact that they wanted the contents of the two storage drives as intact as possible, preventing them from simply ripping it straight out of the two devices. Hence why they'd spent the entire night slowly teasing file after file out of the device.

Then again, it would have still taken some time to pull all the data from the two drives, given the massive amounts of data stored in each. After all, both drives had once belonged to rather prolific Tinkers, Bonesaw having been active for almost a year and a half, and had been very active during that period, by the time I'd eliminated her. Mannequin, on the other hand, had been active for significantly longer than that, and that was without considering the amount of time he'd been active as Sphere. Something that was, strangely enough, reflected in the contents of his storage drive, since he'd apparently kept his notes and research data from his time as Sphere. Why he'd kept the data, I had no clue, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the month.

Turning my primary focus away from the spoils I'd collected from silencing the Nine, I turned it towards one of the other benches in my workshop, where one of my personal projects was coming together. Approaching it, my perception shifted as the fragments of attention I'd previously directed towards the project shifted to the foreground of my mind. Almost immediately, SECOND shifted in the back of my mind, bringing up related information, linking status reports and a dozen design documents, all linking back to a singular point of commonality between them all:

The Nemesis Contingent.

Or, more specifically, the tech that had gone into making them.

See, even as capable as I was, being a Nano-morphic, Biotic-capable Super-soldier, I knew that there were ways to improve my own capabilities, to make myself even more capable. More than that, not taking advantage of the new technologies I'd gained access to, and was putting to use, was just plain stupid, especially on a Death World like Earth Bet. As such, upgrading to better hardware and software was practically a requirement, the sooner it happened, the better, and the best standards I had available to me were those used to construct the Nemesis Contingent.

With that in mind, I looked at the various constructs hovering above the bench I now stood next to, held in place by Mass Effect Fields. Most were complete, smooth orbs of off-grey material, looking like spheres of unpowered Nano-fibres that had been carved out of a baseline Nanosuit. Those few that weren't complete were almost done, as streams of Nanomachines and forests of Fractal Digits added the last touches, before quickly retreating back into the seamless surface of the work bench, sending completion notifications with each object that was finished.

Within a minute of my arrival at the workbench, every single orb, all ten of them, were complete and read to be put into use. A brush of intent aimed at one of the orbs caused handshake protocols to spring to life, the surface of the orb in question rippling in response. Immediately, connections were established as preliminary steps were taken, updates being carried out instantly in preparation for the new hardware to come. Just as quickly, a list of the new features flashed through my mind, additions that would be made in order to bring my body up to the same standards as the morphs of the Nemesis Contingent.

And, even just from a glance at the list of features I'd soon be adding to my arsenal, it was easy to see just how much more capable a Nemesis was, when compared to a 'baseline' Podder, more than a few of which I'd worked on or created. Enhanced Spell-casting arrays, augmented Para-Psychic Drivers, redesigned Biotic Amplifiers constructed with new knowledge and understanding, more potent D-Engine configurations with integrated D-Cell and R-Cell charging systems, auxiliary Eezo-based perpetual motion engines called Eezo-Spindles, to name just a few of the added features that a Nemesis Operative took for granted. However, there was one particular feature that turned a Nemesis Operative from being a 'mere' hyper-soldier, to a primordial force of nature.

Tager nodes.

A particularly noteworthy creation, constructed by the Ceph Minds based on their own dissect of the Rite of Sacred Union, the same Rite used to transform mortal beings into Tagers, supernatural Demi-gods. However, while the product of the Rite was something they had viewed with interest, they'd immediately noted a single flaw in the design of the Rite: One could not have multiple Ta'ge Symbiotes. The Tager Nodes had been their attempt to circumvent this flaw, allowing a single being to have the power of multiple Ta'ge Symbiotes, effectively allowing an individual to become a fusion of multiple Tagers at once. Admittedly, it was still a work in progress, as, while it did allow a single being to possess the combined power of multiple Ta'ge Symbiotes, each was a lesser echo of what the original Rite would have produced from fusing a single mortal with a single Ta'ge Symbiont.

However, it was a problem that the Ceph Minds were eagerly chewing through, even now, working to produce more potent configurations of Tager Nodes, with the eventual goal of having a single Node being capable of matching the full power of a Rite-produced Tager. A goal that, in time, they hoped to even surpass.

Still, for the time being, even a single Tager Node granted a massive array of capabilities, without preforming any kind of transformation, even if the capabilities in question were weakened as a result. More than that, they'd at least partially blurred some of the differences between a standard Tager and a Metamorphosed Tager, allowing for selective transformations of body parts. Admittedly, the cost in both time, effort and resources to create Nodes for the latter was a fair bit higher than the former, but, by most metrics I and the Ceph weighed it against, it was a worthwhile investment.

Hence why Nemesis Operatives were only given Metamorphosed Tager Nodes, ten of them in total, one for each type of Metamorphosed Tager.

And now, so was I.

Grasping the first orb, I felt the upgrade process kick in, as in-depth handshake protocols were exchanged, and data transfers began. I felt my nanomorphic flesh ripple and shift, changing to match the new configurations that were now being downloaded into it, aided by SECOND. Space was created inside my body as systems, organs and constructs were altered into more efficient formats. What space that was created by these alterations was rapidly filled, component materials flowing from the orb, through my limb, before integrating into my body. Within moments, the first orb was gone, the hardware and software upgrades it had stored having been fully integrated into my being, and I could already feel the difference.

I felt stronger, my body filled with a new wellspring of power, one I knew was the result of the more efficient, more potent systems that had been merged into me. It was amazing, in a way, only a single phase into my own upgrade, and I was already miles more capable than I'd been when I'd butchered my way through the Nine. Even just the inclusion of a single Metamorphosed Tager Node, one infused with the power of the

And I still had nine more phases to go.

However, before I could begin the next phase, an alert ran through my mind, informing me of a detonation taking place on the other side of the Trainyard, echoing out from there. Even though the blast was nowhere near my location, I was immediately on alert. If living in Brockton Bay had taught me anything, it was that situations could rapidly spiral out of control, and spread, with Cape fights being the premier example of that.

With a flex of intent, sensor feeds came were brought to my attention, SECOND already processing the incoming data as it generated a three-dimensional street map of the city. Already, responses were plainly visible as first responders scrambled from fire and police stations, along with hospitals. Likewise, the PRT and Protectorate were responding as well, but I couldn't help but frown at just how… Sluggish their response was.

In a way, it was expected.

That, however, didn't stop it from being disappointing.

Given the number of Parahumans that called Brockton Bay there home, the odds that an explosion had been caused by a Parahuman were pretty high, practically making it a requirement that the PRT and Protectorate needed to show up. Honestly, a part of me questioned if that delay was intentional or not, effectively using the first responders as a kind of mineshaft canary. That, and, perhaps, using their deaths as a means of reinforcing the message about how the PRT and Protectorate were the only ones with jurisdiction over Parahuman crimes, and their deaths being used as further justifications. Idle thoughts, but, absently, I wondered just how much truth their might have been to them, given some of the other shite that cropped up during the events of Worm.

Something to investigate later, I decided, even as I turned back to the matter of my own upgrades, a notification having already informed me of the truth of the matter, with a Ceph-formatted report following soon after. The report was assimilated in short order, the critical pieces of information absorbed into my knowledgebase within clock pulses, as the prospect of a Parahuman pissing match was removed from the list of potential events to take place.

Instead, I got confirmation that the squads of Hurtlings that Tiamat had sent out didn't waste time, with one squad already on it's way back, having managed to retrieve Squealer. The explosion had been their handy work, meant to cover their tracks by giving the impression that Squealer had been doing some late-night Tinkering, only for some form of catastrophic failure to occur, blasting her to smithereens. Not an impossible thing to happen to careless Tinkers, but a conclusion that would be very easy for investigations to come to, given that Squealer was a member of the Merchants, who were known to be habitually drugged up to the gills.

Still, retrieving her was one thing, actually recruiting her was another, and that was without considering the need to ensure that the Tinker was fully healed. A lifetime of drug use, and abuse, had done the woman no favours, and would need to be seen to first, before anything else. Something that the Hurtlings had already acknowledged and were in the process of seeing to. Or, as they'd put it, 'seeing to the full repair and integration of the Shard-Host into the Hive, overseen by Mind Tiamat, in service to the Alpha and the Hive.'

With that said, I turned my attention back to the matter of my own upgrades, knowing that Tiamat was more than capable of seeing to the linger damage caused by Squealers addictions and life choices. Likewise, I didn't doubt that convincing Squealer to join me and my allies was beyond her abilities, especially given the fact that Tiamat was a TITAN, one that had spent a significant amount of time crafting Egos, sculpting them to meet specific criteria. Even if she had to resort to other means beyond just words, I didn't doubt that Squealer would join us.

The only real question, was how much persuasion would be required to do so…

XXX

Observing through a myriad of sensors and senses, Tiamat watched as the Hurtling drone deposited the Shard-Host known as Squealer into their designated position. Manipulator-tendrils retracted back to the Hurtling drone as Nano-spores flowed upwards to replace them, merging with the coating already present as it submerged the Shard-Host up to the neck in short order. More flowed upwards, expanding into position as they formed replacements for the various emitters that had previously been filling the cavities and orifices of the Shard-Host. Within moments, the Shard-Host was entombed within a block of hardened Nano-spores, trapped within their newly crafted prison and kept docile in mind and body by Basilisk Hacks.

In many ways, such measures were wasted on Squealer, lacking both the mental fortitude to fight off the Basilisk Hacks, and the physical capability to escape their bindings. However, while that was true of the current Squealer, the Hivemind lacked any information on what the Shard connected to the Host might do in the future. Too many datapoints remained unknown, including how the Shards would react to an outside entity siphoning their accumulated databases off for themselves. Though, while a direct assault by the Entity, and it's collective Shards, was a possibility, the potential for such a reaction to be carried out via proxy also existed.

Hence, the Shard-Host's containment vessel.

Of course, potential Shard reactions aside, that still left the question of what was to be done with the Host-Stock held within the vessel.

Gliding around the containment vessel, Tiamat gazed at the imprisoned Shard-Host, idly considering possibilities even as thought-energy flowed, data slowly beginning to be siphoned through the Host-Shard connection. The possibility of assimilating Squealer into the Hive, Tiamat knew, was never in doubt. Beyond that, the number of uses that an assimilated Shard-Host could be used for were minimal, most of which was being conducted by either more optimised Ceph Drones, or Servants. More than that, even using Squealer in a capacity akin to what was expected of her type of Shard-Host offered limited utility, given the ongoing data-mining operations. In truth, the only true value Squealer held was due to the Host-Shard connection buried in her brain, one that they currently lacked the capability to replicate…

… Or did they…?

That thought caused Tiamat to pause in her circling of the imprisoned Shard-Host, processing cycles rapidly spinning up as data engines began searching for related information. Immediately, articles about New Wave appeared at the forefront of the TITAN's awareness, among others. Most of the information held within the various articles was of little use, the words of idle Cattle-Stock with too much unutilised time. However, amongst the deluge of wasted data, key datapoints were discovered and cross-referenced, with an answer quick in the coming, aided by previous records of similar concepts within the Hivemind.

Multi-generational Shard-Host Linages, with New Wave, the Fallen and Heartbreaker's bloodline being the most obvious examples of such Linages. Useful, knowing that simply breeding Squealer with a mate could be used to create more Host-Stock. Obviously, much would need to be done before such a course of action was carried out, gene-alterations, Psychosurgery and full assimilation into the Hive, to just name a few. Further, alterations would need to be made to the potential spawn birthed from Squealer, enlarging the number birthed in a single spawning, along with the rate at which they achieved physical maturity. Along with those measures, gene-edits would need to be carried out to limit the Host-Stock spawn to the female gender, ensuring that each birthing produced more breeders, that could be used to produce more potential Shard-Hosts in turn.

Creating such large numbers of Host-Stock would be a simple enough process, the only potential complication being ensuring that the Host-Stock obtained an active connection to a Shard. However, that complication was neatly sidestepped by the fact that second-generation Shard-Hosts seemed to have a lower threshold requirement for obtaining an active Host-Shard connection. Extrapolation of available data suggested that such a trait carried true for each subsequent generation, lowering the connection threshold further and further.

Assuming that each connection formed from a single Lineage all connected to the same Shard, such an operation could allow for rapid increases in the size of data-mining operations, along with the subversion vectors that could be used against said Shard. Alternatively, multiple Shards might be accessed for data-mining and subversion from a single Lineage. Either possibility, along with the potential rewards of pursuing them, seemed like justification enough to begin such a project immediately.

However, such a decision was not within the Tiamat's authority to make.

Such a decision could only be made by the Alpha, and only by the Alpha's will would such an initiative be carried out.

With that in mind, Tiamat got to work ensuring the smooth assimilation of Squealer, as a means of building a strong foundation with which the Alpha could chose to either pursue such a project, should they desire to do so. Already, filaments of Nano-spores were being injected into the Shard-Host's body, acting as transit conduits for a steady flow of retroviruses, nanoswarms and undifferentiated stem-cells. Scans pulsed through the flesh of the Shard-Host, identifying points of damage caused by a lifetime of poor decisions and self-destructive actions, and directing resources to repair them.

At the same time, Para-Psychic Drives built into the containment vessel flickered to life, pre-configured for Mindworm utilisation, alongside Blood God-configured Tager Nodes. Lesser Minds already began their work, assisted by several Skillsoft databases built from a combination of Alpha-provided data, along with what data could be gathered from use and experimentation. Care would still be required, but such was true of a great many endeavours, the alteration of a mind being no exception.

Alterations that had been mandated, to ensure the willingness of the Shard-Host to be assimilated into the Hive, to serve it in the name of the Alpha, as the Alpha had commanded.

All in service to the Alpha, and the Hive.

XXX

AN: so, there we have it, the Hive begins making overt moves and the PRT struggle to grab the initiative, only to swing and miss as they get hit by yet another curve ball, one of many more to come. Hope you lot enjoyed it and, as always, feel free to give suggestions, feedback and comments as the story progresses.

Chapter 54 - 12