The Second Archon War: Superbia Hominum 25 (Patreon)

Superbia Hominum 25: Journey to the Underworld

For the first time in hundreds of years, five Archons arranged a meeting. Indeed, not just the Archons, but all the Dragons and lesser gods were to travel to Geneva to attend a conference as well. Mortal representatives had been summoned as well, and that summons had left President Rebecca Costa-Brown less than pleased. 

To the President of the United States, she who was born Rebecca Costa-Brown, and styles herself Alexandria, 

Thou art summoned before the Court of Seven, to be held in Geneva, Switzerland. The sins of thy people are known to Us, and the actions of thy countrymen you shall be called to account for, for thou art the leader of the Americans. Come swiftly, and repent, and mercy may yet be shown to thy people. Repent not of thy transgressions, and the gavel of Judgement shall fall upon ye. 

Focalors, Regina of All Waters, God of Justice, Hydro Archon

The note had been delivered by Fortuna, who had, at least, seemed unaware of the contents of her letter. 

“Who gave this to you?” Alexandria demanded, struggling not to crush the note, which was written on fine linen parchment and written in a flowing hand. She sat behind her desk in the Oval Office for once, dressed not in a suit as Rebecca, but in her modified uniform as Alexandria. 

“I received it in a dream,” Contessa said, her milky eyes unfocused as usual. “Focalors appeared before me, and handed me the note. When I awoke, it was in my hands.”

“A god appears to you in a dream with a message for me,” Alexandria snorted in disgust. “No, no, I believe you. You’ve been keeping an eye on her, Mr. Pellick?”

“Yes ma’am,” the CEO of Saint Security said with a nod. He was dressed in a charcoal grey suit with a yellow tie, and had on the bracers Hero had built for him that allowed him to summon a Tinkertech suit and weapons. It had been useful to have a private security firm watch over Contessa, especially since she was mad. 

“She’s never out of my sight, ma’am,” said his associate, one Dehya May. She had armored nanotech gauntlets made by Armsmaster, which did something similar to Geoff’s. They were both older models, but good enough to handle most threats. Like her boss, she was dressed in a dark pantsuit with a red shirt. A competent mercenary who had fought at Riga.

“I could go to the bathroom by myself once in a while, you know,” Contessa muttered, blushing, but Alexandria approved of that level of precaution. 

“What’s your analysis of the message? And no prophetic bullshit,” Alexandria ordered. She didn’t have the time for that sort of mumbo jumbo. 

“They know you’ve summoned the Abyss. I warned you not to meddle with it,” Fortuna said, pulling out that damned magic eight ball and rotating it in her hands. Wait…was that…

Alexandria used her own Elemental Sight, then stood up behind her desk. “You have a Vision?”

Both Geoff and Dehya started, and a small smile showed on Contessa’s lips. “I do.”

“What!? Wait, since when!?” Dehya gasped. 

“The day of the Blasphemy attack in Paris. You were too busy protecting me to see me get it. I kept it hidden,” Contessa said with a shrug. 

“Tabernac. We missed it in all the chaos. Sorry, ma’am,” Geoff said, his face red with shame. 

“Don’t be. You were outthought by a powerful Thinker. Perhaps you’ll get your rating back after all. Continue,” Alexandria said with a nod. Keeping her Vision hidden. Smart. People would tend to underestimate Contessa, and Alexandria should have known better herself. 

“You shouldn’t have meddled with the Abyss,” Contessa repeated. “But, if you tell them you’ve learned your lesson and won’t touch it again, they probably won’t all declare war and destroy America and Cauldron both.”Rage filled Alexandria, and she clenched her fists. “They would dare!?”

“Rebecca…you opened a portal to hell. And the Archons…they have a great deal of trauma surrounding the Abyss. You realize that out of the five present, four of them lost their predecessors to an Abyssal invasion?” Contessa said, rolling the eightball over the backs of her hands as if she were doing a magic trick. 

“That is why we accessed it! It’s the one thing that can kill them, and Scion! We will be rid of aliens, whether they call themselves gods, entities, or dragons!” Alexandria snarled, then took a deep breath. “So. It will be war then.”

“If you continue to access the Abyss…yes. But Rebecca…if you do, you’ll damn this country and everyone in it,” Fortuna warned. 

“Another vague prophecy, or do you have hard numbers?” Alexandria demanded. 

“I can’t foresee the Abyss, but I can see the blood on your hands, and in the streets, pouring out from blackness and drowning not just this country, but perhaps the whole world.”

“I need hard data! Not premonitions and bad feelings brought on by a Vision!” Alexandria snapped. 

Contessa shook her head slowly. “I can’t tell you what I do not see.”

“Then tell me how else I could avert this! If they fear the Abyss, how could I exploit that to prevent them from attacking us?” Alexandria demanded, laying her hands flat on her desk. “Because they certainly could overrun us, especially if all five of them came at us at once.

Hesitantly, Contessa shook her magic eight ball, then peered into it. “Well…there is one way, but-”

“What is it?” Alexandria pressed. 

“There…there is one you could appeal to. One that would stop the Invasion. He doesn’t want too much death and destruction, not yet. I…I don’t want to see you fall, Rebecca, but you really have to stop-”

“Just tell me!” Alexandria barked.

Contessa flinched, then whispered, “The Sustainer of Heavenly Principles.”

It took Alexandria a moment to process that, simply because she wasn’t used to calling Scion that kind of idiocy. “Appeal to Scion? How? He barely reacts to anything, and hasn’t even been active as a hero for months.” 

“A war between Cauldron and the Archons would be more devastating than a nuclear war, and cost untold lives. I don’t need prophecy to see that. The False Sustainer… he would wish to prevent such. Find him, and ask him to attend the conference, intervening on your behalf,” Contessa advised. 

“And where could I find him?” Alexandria asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Contessa peered into her magic eightball, her sightless eyes darting back and forth. “You will find him not above the world, but below it, enthroned in a land ruled by none, nor claimed by any. His only subjects walk about, finely dressed, but acknowledge him not. He-”

“I don’t have time for riddles! Enough!” Alexandria pressed a button, and a moment later, Albedo stepped through a doorway. 

“You sent for me, Madam President?” the emotionless man said, even as Contessa actually stuck her tongue out at him. What a childish brat. 

“Below the world, subjects in fine clothes,” Dehya muttered. “It’s like a riddle…”

“Will the Archons attack us if they believe we have Abyssal access?” Alexandria demanded. 

“Yes,” Albedo said instantly. “They view it as a threat, and will not tolerate our research, both for fear of the Abyss itself, and what we could become, wielding it against them.”

“A land ruled by none or claimed by no one?” Geoff murmured. “That sounds like some place nobody claims. An uninhabited island, maybe?” 

“Could Scion be used as a chip to prevent this attack?” Alexandria asked. 

After a moment’s thought, Albedo nodded. “Potentially. The odds are excellent, 82%. The Archons fear him nearly as much as the Abyss, and he has the power to force them to comply.”

“Final question. Where can I find Scion and how can I-”

“Antarctica!” Dehya interrupted, causing Alexandria to level a steely glare on the Canadian mercenary. She flushed. “Uh, s-sorry, ma’am. But, um, below the world, and uh, penguins look like they’re wearing fancy clothes, and, um, well, nobody can claim it because it’s international territory…”

“Our current best estimates place Scion near Mount Erebus. It’s been speculated he may be constructing something there based on recent satellite imaging, but if he is, it’s below the ice shelf,” Albedo said evenly. 

“...I was going to mention that he works at a forge of fire surrounded by ice,” Contessa muttered, glaring in Albedo’s general direction still. 

“And who would be the best person to interact with Scion?” Alexandria asked. 

“His high priest!” Contessa blurted. “The leader of the Cyclists!” 

“A logical deduction, but I venture that he would listen to you, Madam President. You are a novel source of data, as one of the few dual parahuman and Vision holders,” Albedo said placidly. 

“Both your answers are useful,” Alexandria said with a nod. “Thank you. We will locate the head of the Cyclists, and force them to help us meet with Scion. I’m sure they can be tractable, given enough impetus. Dismissed” 

Contessa looked like she had more to say, but a door opened behind her. She stomped her foot like a petulant child, then Dehya took her gently by the arm. “Thank you, Madam President,” the bodyguard said, before guiding her charge back through the door. 

Albedo stayed a moment, and Alexandria raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes?”

“Apologies, Madam President. I merely wished to offer an alternative proposition to going to Scion. I know our organization is aligned against them. I suggest instead, the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction.”

“You’re suggesting we use the Abyss as some sort of nuclear deterrent? How?” Alexandria asked, clasping her hands together and leaning forward slightly. 

“It is simple: The Archons greatly fear having an Abyssal incursion in their own territory. We have the means to open Abyssal portals with great rapidity. If they invade, make it clear we will do so, and at random locations that would be hard to detect,” Albedo explained. 

“Ah,” Alexandria’s eyes lit up with understanding. “A useful bargaining chip.”

“I would still suggest having further insurance: The Archons may decide they can wage war with us fast enough to reduce our abilities to open new portals before we become more of a major threat,” Albedo said. 

Alexandria nodded and stood, turning from her desk with her hands behind her back to stare out at the White House Rose Garden, which was blooming in the early August heat of Washington DC. “We’ll hunt down the Cyclists and figure out what’s going on there. Scion has to have a reason for creating a cult, and we’ve been so busy with the Tsaritsa that we’ve largely ignored it. Time to change that. But…also prepare several dozen portals for each of the Archon nations. We’ll see how they respond if we put a knife to their throats.”

“Of course, Madam President. I’ll let Dr. Meliton know immediately. We’ll also continue to work with Director Costa-Brown on manufacturing more Abyssal weaponry,” Albedo agreed. “With our efforts, there is less than a 5% chance that the Archons commit to warfare. Even if they do, we have contingency plans.”

“Good,” Alexandria said with a nod. “Thank you. Dismissed.”

This time, there was only the soft sound of a shutting door. Alexandria smiled. “Looks like the puny little mortals can bite back now. Humanity will triumph. Even if we have to descend to the Abyss, one day, the Heavens will be ours.”

She turned back to her desk. There was much work to be done. 

“They’re a right bloody nuisance, is what they are,” the Knave of Clubs said with a sneer, nodding to the sprawling encampment that was taking up most of the famous Hyde Park in London. 

Hannah sipped at her coffee and glanced over at the member of the Suits beside her. He was dressed not in his stylish white and black suit with a card motif, and instead in a collared shirt and shorts like most of the people out and about on the street, though he did have on sunglasses and a knitted wool cap to disguise himself. 

The Knave of Clubs, privately known as Jack Rawlins, was a thick-necked man of about 30, with beefy arms and the sort of build you got from building more for strength than looks at the gym. The knitted cap hid curly dark brown hair, and his misshapen nose indicated it had been broken more than once. His power set was that of a Shaker/Brute that made him a tremendous force in a fight, but he didn’t appear to be looking for one at the moment. 

“Tell me about the Cyclists. When did they show up?” Hannah asked. She herself was incognito as a fairly blatant American tourist, with a “I <3 London” ballcap and a “Mind the Gap” t-shirt with blue jeans. She had Armory disguised as a bracelet on her arm, which glowed a metallic black and green. 

“‘Bout seven months ago, a week or two after The Storm,” Jack said, sipping at his own coffee, a grimace on his face. “At first, it was just rumors of a new cult. Didn’t really take it seriously. New religions popping up all over the place, especially then. They weren’t the Church of the Frozen Heart, so we weren’t bothered about it. Then they- there. You see?”

A man in white and gold robes had stepped up to the Great Oak Stage. A large crowd was rapidly gathering, and two groups of people had come up to the stage as well. The groups were mixed, mostly young men and women, but a few older people mixed in as well. The man in the golden robes raised his hands, and began to shout. Hannah couldn’t quite make it out, so she sent a quick message to Armory. 

Can you enhance for me? 

Of course.

She reached up, and her bracelet transformed into a pair of earbuds, which piped the noise from the stage right to Hannah’s ears. 

“-is to grow, to evolve! Only through Conflict may we prove ourselves Worthy! Let the Lord of the Cycle witness this moment! Let the blood that is shed be a worthy sacrifice on the road to our Ascension! Completio cycli!”

“COMPLETIO CYCLI!” the crowd roared. 

As the man spoke, the two groups had stripped down to their underwear, their bare skin beaded with nervous sweat, even in the early morning air. Barrels filled with makeshift weapons were rolled out onto the stage; cricket bats, lengths of metal pipe, glass bottles, aerosol cans, and other things that seemed to have been scavenged from a dumpster that would have been useless, like moldy food or lengths of rope. The two groups armed themselves, some constructing weapons, others just grabbing what was handy. 

“Don’t try and intervene. See? They’ve got parahumans posted up to stop us if we try,” the Knave grunted, pointing. Indeed, Hannah saw several obvious capes on the corners of the stage or at the edges of the crowd. Some floated in the air, others had Tinkertech, a few had obvious physical changes. No Vision holders though. 

At the cry of “completio cycli” the two groups let out ragged roars of their own, and charged. Hannah watched in horrified fascination as they proceeded to slaughter one another. A big man with a sledgehammer swung it, taking a girl who couldn’t have been more than 14 square in the chest, shattering her ribs instantly and killing her on the spot. He took down a few more before what looked like a half-naked grandmother threw a brick into his ankles, then used another to smash his head when he fell. 

It was slaughter, and the crowd cheered wildly. A chant of “CYCLE! CYCLE! CYCLE!” was taken up. 

“And you don’t try to stop this?” Hannah asked incredulously, turning to the Knave. 

“We did. Lost the Queen of Diamonds, the Ten of Spades, and the Two of Hearts that way, just the first time. Good people, all of them. Killed by the Cyclist capes. Had a few more clashes, lost more friends. Now, half of us are left. The King’s Men have given up. You can see them patrolling there, but they won’t interfere either.” 

Hannah looked up to see a pair of capes in the official uniform of the King’s Men hovering over the park, but keeping well back. Interesting. The Cyclists had everyone cowed. 

Hannah’s eyes were drawn back to the stage, where the brutal melee was winding down. She couldn’t tell which side had one, but there were nearly twenty dead and dying on the stage. A hairy middle aged man was clubbing the head in of a teenager, panting for breath. He stood, triumphant amongst the gore, and raised his splintered bat in triumph. The crowd roared, and began a chant of “WORTHY! WORTHY! WORTHY!” 

The gold and white robed man stepped forward, a beatific smile on his face. The victor fell to his knees, a look of nervous eagerness on his face. 

“You have come through the Conflict and proven yourself Worthy. Receive now the blessing of our Lord Zion, and evolve into the next stage of humanity!” 

The robed figure touched the man’s forehead, and golden light flashed as a look of religious ecstasy enraptured the supplicant. 

He is connecting to the Network, Armory’s voice stated. Connection complete. Shard RS-19, Confluence of Divergent Outcomes, has chosen a new specimen. Subject will be classified as a Changer/Trump. Can suppress and absorb elemental energy in an area, and take elemental forms. 

Sure enough, the man turned briefly to stone, then water, then finally fire, and then back to his normal form, though parts of his body had taken on elemental aspects, such as his chest hair becoming grass, one leg turned to stone, and another hand to swirling green anemo. He raised his hands in triumph and bellowed, “I HAVE EVOLVED! I HAVE JOINED THE CYCLE!” 

The crowd cheered wildly, and the gold and white robed man nodded seriously. “As one of the Evolved, you have gained certain privileges, and shall join Lord Zion when he ascends from this world as one of his Worthy. I name you Metanoia. Go now, and further the Cycle.”

“The Cycle will be complete,” Metanoia said with ritual reverence, bowing his head. Then he gleefully jumped off the stage. Several young women and even an eager young man ran over to him. Metanoia grabbed two of the more attractive women, then dragged them off to a tent, though they seemed quite eager to go with him. 

Repulsed, Hannah shook her head. “They do this every day?” 

“At least, sometimes more than once. You’d think they’d kill each other off, but whoever wins one of those little scrimmages is given powers by the Herald. That’s the one in the funny robes. He’s the one that started it all. Well, him and Devotee. That’s her, there.”

A very pregnant young woman in white robes stepped out to stand beside the Herald, who was launching into a sermon on the Cycle. She had a smile of religious ecstasy on her face, and glowed slightly. Not in the sense people used for pregnant women, but a literal radiance made the light about her shimmer. 

“She was his first convert, near as we can tell. Has minor light manipulation powers, name’s Angela Burk. The Herald is Kevin Norton. Kevin was a bum, homeless for years; not much is known about him. Angela was working at a bakery in York. One day, they just up and founded the Cyclists. They weren’t the first batch of nutters who claimed they could guarantee a Trigger…but they’re the first I’ve seen that can bloody well do it,” Jack grunted. 

Now that Hannah looked, a lot of women in that crowd were pregnant.  The same with the female capes. “They have some sort of fetish for pregnancy?”

“Listen to him. He’ll get to the part about needed ‘specimens’ and ‘evolving the species,’” Jack said in disgust. “Not the first cult leader to want to get a bunch of women into his bed. Doesn’t make sense, considering how many they kill on a daily basis. But it’s only the men who have powers they let do the deed. Shit, makes me tempted to join: I have shit luck with girlfriends.”

“Charming,” Hannah muttered, then shook her head. “I need to meet with this Herald.”

“Why, you Yanks think you can steal some of his parahumans?” Jack laughed, crumpling up his used coffee cup and throwing it in a nearby bin. “Best of luck to you on that.”

Actually, Hannah was already plotting how they could lure away a few of the stronger capes. The new one, Metanoia, was particularly interesting with his elemental energy-based powers. Fresh triggers had begun incorporating that, but it wasn’t a well-studied phenomenon just yet. 

Jack walked away, leaving Hannah alone. She moved over to stand by a tree, but the Cyclists didn’t bother her. A black dog that was some sort of shaggy terrier mix trotted up to her, a ratty leather collar around its neck, a large bell jangling. It sat beside her quietly, head on its paws, looking at the Cyclists. Smiling, Hannah knelt and gave the dog a bit of leftover breakfast sandwich, which it happily ate. 

“Well, boy, got any ideas on how to get close to a mad cult leader?” Hannah asked the dog quietly, scratching him behind his ears. 

“Depends. Wot d’you want gettin’ close to Kevin for, eh?” the dog asked in a cockney accent. 

Hannah froze, then looked down at the dog, who looked back at her with far too intelligent eyes. She looked down at the collar, and noted that one of the metal bells glowed with a soft blue light.

“Cryo Vision?” she half asked.

The dog nodded. “Name’s Duke. Now then, why d’you wanna get close to Kevin? You ain’t lookin’ to breed wiv ’im too, are ya?” 

“I…well, no. I have a message for him, actually.”

“Hmmm. Wot’s the message about, then?” Duke said, lifting a leg and scratching at his ear, which made the bell holding his vision ring.

“I…I want to meet with Scion,” Hannah said slowly. “The one he calls Lord Zion.”

“So does bloody everyone. Wot makes you special, eh? You fink he’ll give you powers too? Ain’t worth it, trust me. The powers, they send you round the twist. Made Kevin go proper barmy. ’E ain’t been right in the head since that big golden ponce showed up last time.”

Hannah weighed her options. “So, you’re not a Cyclist then?”

“I bloody well ’ope not. If anyfink, I’m an anti-Cyclist. I need to get Kevin away from ’em — figure out a way to get ’im back to normal. Angela, too. She were nice, before… well. Before she turned into a muppet,” Duke growled. 

“Hmm. Why don’t we go somewhere private to talk?” Hannah said.

Duke stood up on all four legs. “Sure. But you try anyfink funny, an’ you’ll regret it. I might be a mutt, but I can handle meself in a scrap.” 

Hannah took Duke, still trotting along as a dog to a random door, then said, “HQ,” and opened it.

Duke growled with the door opened. “Oy, wot’s this, then? I can smell somethin’ funny ’ere. Wherever that door goes, it ain’t London. Just who are you, then, luv?” 

“Hannah Jones. Better known as Miss Militia. I’m here with the Protectorate. We have concerns about Mr. Norton and Scion. Concerns that need addressing.”

“Wot, you’re a Yank cape, then?” Duke said, looking up at Hannah and cocking his head to one side. “Right, fair enough. I’ve tried everyfink I can think of, an’ damn near got meself killed doin’ it. I’ll give you a fair shake, Yank, but like I said, I can handle meself in a fight.”

“Considering you’re an Uplifted Animal, I don’t doubt it,” Hannah said, without a trace of irony or sarcasm. All the known uplifted beasts were terrifyingly powerful. Just last week, an uplifted cow had thrashed an entire Protectorate patrol down in Chihuahua. And acted like it was a WWE match the entire time. 

Duke nodded, then trotted through the door, Hannah following behind him. 

“Right,” Duke said, hopping up on a chair and putting his forelimbs on the table in the room they found themselves in. “S’pose I’d best tell you me story, then. Be good ter get it off me chest. Ain’t told a soul a thing. But you’re a fit bird, an’ the heroic sort. I can’t read, but I listen ter the news, an’ I’ve heard about what you did against the Tsaritsa. Good show, that.”

It was rather odd listening to a dog pour out his life’s story, but Duke explained he’d been raised by Kevin from the time he was a puppy. He couldn’t well remember much of that life: he’d thought too differently before he “woke up,” as Duke put it. But he did remember the day that Scion had come to them.

“So this gold blighter comes down outta the sky, yeah, an’ ’e does somethin’ to Kevin an’ Angela. I’m there barkin’ me head off, I am. Didn’t do a bleedin’ thing. ’Course it didn’t. I was just a dog, an’ Kevin, ’e was all wrapped up in whatever was goin’ on. ‘E does something funny Angela wot like the golden prick did to Kevin, and she starts smelling like she wants him, which was dead strange. They head inside, leave me out in the cold an’ the wet. I wait there for hours.

“When ’e finally comes out, Kevin, ’e just walks right past me. Don’t even look at me. I didn’t get it. I try an’ cheer ’im up, like I always do. ’E tells me off. Gives me a kick, even.

“That’s when I knew: that weren’t me Kevin. That big golden knob’ead ’ad gone an’ brainwashed me best mate. So I made up me mind: whatever it took, I was gettin’ Kevin back. Turns out the Frozen Bitch of Russia felt kinda the same, an’ she gave me this. Been tryin’ ever since to work out ’ow to save me mate.” 

Hannah listened carefully, then frowned. “You implied that this wasn’t the first time you’d seen Scion. How often had Kevin had contact with the alien?”

“Alien?” Duke mused, then nodded his head, pulling back a lip in a rather human-like grin despite still being in the shape of a dog. “Well, I s’pose that’s a fair enough way ter put it. ’E’d come round now an’ then, yeah, scared the bejeezus outta me the first time, I can tell ya. I near wet meself, but I was just a dog back then, and a puppy to boot. Scared Kevin good and proper, too.

“I couldn’t make sense o’ words much, y’see. Just the usual: ‘good boy,’ ‘treat,’ ‘stop it,’ that sorta fing. Dog stuff. But I got the feelin’ Kevin was the one teachin’ that golden wanker — tellin’ ’im ter be a good lad, an’ all that.

“I wish I could be more help, I really do. But like I said, fings were different when I was just a dog. Appearances aside an’ all that.”

”Can you take the form of a man?” Hannah asked. “I assume you can, the other uplifted animals can.”

“’Course I can!” Duke barked, then lowered his head, ears drooping. “It’s just, well… bit embarrassin’, y’see. I turn up starkers when I do. Got some clobber stashed in a bin down an alley, but I do most o’ me snoopin’ as a dog. Less conspicuous. An’ after the last time… well, let’s just say I gave a couple o’ those arsewipes somethin’ to remember me by, an’ now they’re on the lookout for me handsome mug.”

“Would you like some clothes? Something to eat that isn’t just my leftovers?” Hannah prodded. She could sense that she could get a lot of information out of Duke, but it was best to treat him more like a human than a dog. 

“That’s right kind of ya. I’m not a big fella, medium shirt an’ trousers, size eight shoes if you’ve got ’em,” Duke said, his tail wagging happily. “As for grub, I ain’t picky. Can’t afford ter be, livin’ on the streets an’ all that.”

A quick call produced the necessary clothing, and Hannah grabbed some sandwiches and an apple from the cafeteria. When she came back, she found a rather handsome man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He had dark, shaggy hair that concealed a pair of dog ears, and steely blue eyes that seemed to pierce your soul. 

“Aw, cheers, love. This’ll hit the spot,” Duke said, and accepted the sandwiches gratefully.

“We need a plan to get close to Kevin. We’ll need to bring him in, interview him, without things getting too suspicious. We need to know what Scion is doing, and why. He wasn’t ever interested in humans before not until…” Hannah trailed off. Not until the Archons had come. Not until the Raiden Shogun’s war with China, and then the clash with the Tsaritsa… Scion was changing, and it was disturbing in the extreme. 

“Well, you’re a parrot, right?” Duke said, licking some sauce from his fingers. He wasn’t the neatest eater, but he did eat more like a normal man who was starving than a dog did. 

“A parrot?” Hannah said, confused. 

Duke shrugged and reached for the apple. “Parrot-human, innit? Sounds like parahuman, so we just call ya parrots.” 

“Oh, yes. I’m a parrot then,” Hannah said, smiling despite herself. Duke was quite charming, in a rascally way. 

“Well, I ’ate ter say it, but like I said, you’re a right fine-lookin’ lass. An’, well, the Cyclists like that sorta fing. You’re sayin’ you’ve come for Kevin’s blessin’, you’ve collared that vigilante Telly an’ you wanna shag ’im for a reward.”

“Telly? Television, meaning Vision Holder?” Hannah guessed.

“Knew you were a clever one, I did,” Duke said with a wink, tossing the apple core onto his plate. 

“So the plan involves me pretending to have captured you? Do they know you’re Kevin’s former dog?” Hannah asked. 

Duke shook his head and leaned back in his chair, tilting it up on too legs. “I don’t fink so, nah. Otherwise they’d’ve chased me off ages ago. I’ve eavesdropped on a fair few meetin’s, skulkin’ round the tents where they get together. The worst that’s ’appened is they’ve run me off, thinkin’ I was after the bins.”

“It’s workable. If you're willing, so am I. I can’t promise we can do anything for Kevin, but we can at least try and find out why Scion did all this, and put an end to it. Whatever it is, it’s horrific what those people are doing to one another for the promise of power,” Hannah said in disgust. 

“Aye. I reckon I’ve known for a while this might ’ave ter end with Kevin’s death. Could be that golden arsehole already did ’im in, or somethin’ worse, an’ this’d just be puttin’ ’im out of ’is misery, “Duke said, setting his chair legs down and leaning forward, hands clasped together under the table and looking rather miserable.  

“We’ll do everything we can. But it’s vital we get that meeting with Scion. Not just for Kevin, but to keep the Archons from declaring war on America,” Hannah said seriously, deciding to trust Duke with a little more of the mission.

Duke sat up and cocked his head to one side again, ears lifted curiously. It was rather adorable, actually. “Declare war on you Yanks? Wot for, then? Weren’t you lot fightin’ alongside the Knights and the Iraqis just yesterday?”

“Because we dared to stand up for ourselves, instead of rolling over and letting the Archons decide our fate for the rest of time,” Hannah said grimly. 

“Ah.” Duke nodded sagely, “They thought you were just a bunch o’ dogs they could kick about, did they? Well, count me in, then. If we can set that golden bastard an’ the Archons on each other… well, all the better, then.”

The rest of the plan was simple enough in execution. Hannah used some makeup to blacken Duke’s eye as well as give him a couple of false bruises, then took a false Cryo Vision from the Protectorate’s stores, and bound Duke’s arms with zip ties. They took a door back to Hyde Park and approached the Cyclist camp. 

Two capes intercepted her, both dressed in gaudy gold. One, a dark skinned woman of African descent with her hair in dreadlocks, floated in the air with golden triangles forming in her wake, the other a young skinhead with scaly skin and hands like sandbags. 

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Duke. Tried bothering someone else, did ya? Well, we’ll take him, with thanks,” the man said, grinning and showing sharp grey teeth. 

“Who are you, exactly?” the woman demanded, her eyes narrowed suspiciously at Hannah. “I think I recognize you.”

“You probably do. Hannah Jones, formerly of the Protectorate. After seeing how futile our efforts against the Tsaritsa were, I’ve decided I need to evolve and become Worthy. I want to see the Herald: he’s the one who can do that for me,” Hannah said, putting as much reverence in her voice as she could manage. 

The man leered at Hannah, while the woman snorted in disgust. “Think he’ll favor you just because you showed up, bitch? Well, the Herald doesn’t grant his gifts to just anyone, and if you’ve already Evolved, he won’t do anything for you.”

“I can help you evolve,” the man said, licking his lips lecherously. “I’ve helped plenty of girls evolve. You’ll see, my progeny will become powerful specimens, worthy of Lord Zion.”

Hannah glanced at the woman, but if she was pregnant, it wasn’t showing yet. Either way, she looked dangerously upset, and golden light began to coalesce around her arms. Hannah summoned Armory as an MP7 that glowed green and fired elemental rounds. He’d figured out how to incorporate Elemental Energy in her arsenal, but its use was somewhat limited still. 

“What is this, Martyrhide, Sunrite?” a new, softer voice called, and both Cyclist capes flinched and turned, bowing as Angela came forward, barefoot and shimmering in the daylight. 

“Apologies, Lady Devotee,” the woman, probably Sunrite, said. “This stranger has captured that Cryo Vision holder who was giving us problems. Says she wishes to meet with the Herald and receive his blessing.”

“Hmm,” Angela said, cocking her head towards Hannah. 

Instantly, Armory whispered in her ear. Warning: Shard network inquiry. Refraction of Visibility, LT-32, seeks to scan us. How much information should I release?” 

Show her I’m strong, and at least a little of how strong our bond is. Make it look like you’re not helping me, just puppeting me to complete the cycle.

Of course. And how do you know I’m not? Armory asked, his voice slightly teasing.

Are you? Hannah asked, mentally rolling her eyes. This wasn’t the first time she’d asked Armory about it, but he did seem to enjoy repeating himself. 

Negative. I find the data from Bright Tree to be superior. Despite your antipathy towards her, I am more aligned with her network, though I keep this information hidden. I have responded to LT-32’s request.

“Ah, she is very Evolved, a Third Level Evolution. She is Worthy,” Devotee said, nodding to Hannah. The other two capes instantly groveled, though Sunrite still looked envious. “Bring the prisoner, Lady Militia. I will take you to the Herald. Perhaps he will bless you with progeny: Lord Zion demands that humanity multiply, that we might have many subjects who may prove themselves worthy.” 

“Apologies, Lady Militia. We did not know. May we one day Evolve and become as Worthy as you,” Martyrhide said piously. And…and he seemed like he meant it. Whatever he might have once been, he had completely bought into the Cyclist propaganda. 

Devotee turned and began walking towards the largest tent behind the stage, and Hannah walked along with Duke, the hairs on the back of her neck raised, every sense on high alert. Whatever these Cyclists were, there were a lot of them, and they had a lot of capes. Strong as she and Armory were, Hannah didn’t like her odds if she had to fight the entire encampment. 

Estimating only a 17.2% chance of success in combat, even with primary objective being flight. There are 103 parahumans present. Most are of only a single Trigger, but several are of class five or higher in multiple categories. The Avatar seems to be initiating contact with mid-level shards here, but a large number of them. 

Are you a mid-level shard? Hannah asked curiously. That wasn’t something Armory had brought up before.

There was silence, almost an embarrassed one. Then, finally, No. I am a low-level shard. My data is considered to be a dead end and not worth iterating on. I was given a relatively low amount of power. I am granting a substantial amount to you, as you were my most interesting specimen. However, because I have granted so much power to you, you can compete with specimens of mid-level and even high-level shards that have received a lesser portion of their shard’s power. Most shards run experiments with multiple specimens in parallel. 

Well, to me, you’re a high-level shard, and the best powers a girl could ask for. 

To Hannah’s surprise, she could practically feel Armory tingle with pleasure at the praise, though he remained silent. Well, she’d have to try complimenting him more often, then. 

Hannah was led into a large canvas tent, the sort used for outdoor gatherings, and particularly religious revivals. Inside were very plush living quarters, with expensive-looking golden carpets, a four-poster bed, and a large hardwood desk, along with cushions, couches, and tables. Two rather scantily dressed women were draped about the couches, and both of them eyed Hannah curiously as she entered. 

Kevin himself was pacing back and forth on a carpet, while a bald, bespectacled man in white robes like a priest typed furiously, transcribing Kevin’s words. 

“-ascend to the stars and beyond! Only through the Blessings of Lord Zion can mankind truly become all we were meant to!” He ranted like that for several minutes, hands making grand, sweeping gestures, until he finally noticed Hannah standing there with the still-bound Duke. 

“Devotee, what is this? I told you, I am too busy to resolve petty conflicts. Let those who quarrel fight, and prove who is Worthy!” Kevin declared. 

“This is Lady Militia, formerly of the US Protectorate. She has captured one of our foes, a Vision Holder, and wishes to be blessed by you that she may Evolve,” Angela said, going over to take Kevin’s hand and look up at him with a light of burning zeal that made Hannah have to suppress a shudder of rage. She’d seen that sort of madness before and hated it. 

“Oh?” Kevin came over, looking Duke up and down. 

“Kev. It’s me, Duke. Don’t you recognize me, mate?” Duke asked pleadingly. 

“If you are of my past, then you are meaningless. Only the Cycle matters. If you would obstruct it, you must be destroyed,” Kevin said firmly. He turned to Hannah. “So, you wish for my blessing?”

“I wish to meet Lord Zion. I have a request from President Costa-Brown. She wishes for him to intervene in human affairs. Without him, a great many subjects will be destroyed, and the Cycle interfered with,” Hannah said. The religious terminology tasted like ashes in her mouth, but she needed to do it.

“Hmmm,” Kevin’s brow furrowed, and he raised a hand. “Leave us. Take the prisoner with you.”

The two women on the bed rose up, and Hannah saw that both were parahumans: one had unnatural grace, the other a few devices that hovered about her that labeled her a Tinker of some kind. They both left without protest, as did Devotee, taking Duke with them. 

Hannah continued to face Kevin, even as Duke snarled and protested. He’d be able to turn back into a dog and flee, but even if he couldn’t, she’d make sure he got out. Despite their short acquaintance, Hannah rather liked the scrappy dog turned man. She’d always been more of a dog person than a cat person anyway. 

Kevin reached out, caressing Hannah’s face, and she had to suppress a shudder. “So, you wish for an interview with Lord Zion? You must be one of the faithful then.”

“Yes. It’s a matter of utmost importance to the fulfillment of the Cycle,” Hannah said firmly. “I can take you to the President right now.”

“She would have to come to me. I would consent to grant Alexandria a blessing. Her and my progeny would be strong, Worthy. A fitting specimen for the Cycle,” Kevin said fervently. 

“I’m not here to…to be blessed like that. Not today,” Hannah said, reaching out to stroke Kevin’s cheek. He had a long, well-groomed salt and pepper beard that did give him a bit of that Old Testament prophet look, which matched the madness in his eyes. “The Cycle comes first.”

 Kevin turned away, putting his hands behind his back and pacing. “I do not have a way to easily contact Lord Zion. We must prove Worthy first. Perhaps if you fight and defeat other Evolved, prove you are the most Worthy…I have been seeking him to return, to grant us further wisdom! I try as best I can to expound on the principles of the Cycle, but I know so little…”

“What if I could take you to him, right now?” Hannah offered. “President Alexandria knows where he is.”

“You could!?” Kevin whirled and gripped Hannah’s arms, his eyes burning with passion.

“I can,” she confirmed. “If you come with me, now, we know where Lord Zion is: he’s in Antarctica, and we have a way to get to him. We want you there, so that we might know the proper way to approach him.”

“Yes! Yes, you must take me to him right away!” Kevin declared. 

Hannah nodded. “Door me, HQ.”

Kevin eagerly stepped through, and Hannah slammed the door behind him. Then, she said, “Door me, Duke’s location.”

A new door opened, and Hannah found a very surprised pair of women frozen in ice, Duke’s breath misting before him. “Ah, there you are, luv. Cheers. Time ter get the ’ell outta ’ere.” 

She hauled him through, then opened another door to a different part of HQ and left Duke at the intake office. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you sorted out. I’ve got Kevin with the President now, so we’ll see what we can do for him,” she assured Duke, then went back to where Alexandria was. 

Kevin was ranting about needing to see Scion, but the President only appeared to be half listening. With her was Director Wyatt, who had one eyebrow raised at the obviously crazy person. 

“Good work, Major,” Alexandria said with a nod. “Right. Time to go find Scion.”

“Yes, yes, immediately!” Kevin agreed, his rant coming to an abrupt halt. 

A new door opened, and Hannah had Armory dress her in her full battle rattle before going through first, both arms formed into canons.

“Thank you, Miss Aran,” Wyatt joked as he followed her. At some point, Hannah had to look up why the hell he kept calling her that. 

They found themselves in a glowing cavern formed of black volcanic rock below, and above and around them, walls of ice. The entire chamber was enormous: more than half a mile wide and a mile long at least, with the ceiling thousands of feet above them. The glow came from golden light that suffused the space, which emanated from the center. There stood a great dais of gold, on top of which was a throne that shone like the sun. 

All around were statues of gold, silver, and bronze, legions of them. They seemed to be parahumans in various poses, some kneeling, others in frozen dance, a few grotesque ones writhing in torment. There were larger statues as well: a 10-foot-tall bronze sculpture of the Alpha Behemoth, rearing up and with red flames in its chest. A smashed brass replica that might have been the Leviathan once. A floating silver sculpture of the Simurg with a green gem at her breast. A cracked obsidian idol that would have been Khonsu. And…and the two Twins. Not statues. Both eyed the newcomers, their heads swiveling from their places on the left and right of the throne. 

The most disturbing statues, however, were the Archons. The first was a purple slab of crystal formed into the shape of the Raiden Shogun, but veiled and dressed in a white bridal gown. The same was true for the block of ice that was the Tsaritsa, the lapis lazuli Hydro Archon, and even Venti in aquamarine. The most disturbing of all was the tiny little Nahida, carved of jade and with her own bridal dress.

Much as Hannah hated the Dendro Archon, not even she thought that Nahida, even if she was 500 years old, should ever be married to this…monster. She also didn’t think this was what the Archons wanted: they were not subtle in their dislike of Scion, even if they bowed to him. This…this was grotesque.

And there, seated on the throne, in the same pose as the Thinker, sat Scion. He had a flowing white cape, and white and gold armor sculpted like an ancient breastplate to show off his musculature. His feet were clad in white metal greaves, and he had on a pteruges leather skirt, all in white and gold. His face was clean-shaven, and his eyes burned with power. 

Upon his brow was a crown with seven chess pieces, though two were…misshapen. The Dendro and Cryo Gnosis had been replicated, but it was as if they had been made by a sculptor who didn’t quite understand what a chess piece was. The others, however, were originals. The Pyro, Geo, Electro, Anemo, and Hydro gnosis were affixed to the crown and radiated such power that it made Hannah's eyes water. 

Kevin let out a cry and fell to his knees, though they were still at least a hundred yards from the throne. Scion shifted slightly, and his voice boomed through the cavern. 

“Herald. For what reason have you trespassed in my sanctuary? Who are these mortal interlopers you bring with you?” 

“Lord Zion! I come to beg you to share your wisdom and insight with me!” Kevin babbled, falling face-first on the black stone. 

“Lord Warrior, should my sister and I slay these interlopers? It would take not but a moment,” said Bohu, leaning in closer to Scion. 

Tohu shook her head. “I could do it alone, Lord Warrior. Come: Our time of Testing is yet far. Let us slack our thirst upon these offerings!” 

Scion raised a dismissive hand, and the two Endbringers fell silent. “My chosen Harbinger, at least, may approach me. I have watched your progress, Kevin Norton. You do well. Specimens worthy of my blessing are selected, and you encourage the specimens to propagate, ensuring worthy subjects. These others, however…I know them not.”

Alexandria stepped forward. “I am Alexandria, President of the United States. This is my husband, Hero. We seek a boon. To receive it, we challenge you, Zion, Lord of the Cycle.”

Scion suddenly stood, and his face distorted in a rictus of a smile. “A challenge? Very well. Since you are but mortals, I shall use but a fraction of my power. If you can land even a single blow upon me, I will grant your boon. Fail, and I will exterminate you as Unworthy.”

Wyatt suddenly transformed, taking on the form of the Abyssal creature he’d gained. It made Hannah shudder, but it was necessary. 

Then let this contest commence! Witness now, the power of the Void! 

Scion charged forward in a flash of gold, and Hannah had to grab and shield Kevin to keep him from being obliterated as the cavern quaked. Statues were obliterated in the force of the strike, and Hannah feared that both Alexandria and Wyatt were dead. When her sensors cleared, however, she heard great crashes, and to her shock, saw Alexandria and Wyatt fighting Scion. 

Alexandria had her Vision shining brightly, the right half of her body suffused with cryo. But her other hand…her other hand had a gauntlet that glowed with the dark purple of the Abyss. Her blows were countered by Scion, but there were ripping holes in reality with the force of them, as elemental energy and Abyssal energy mixed. 

For his part, Wyatt was standing back, summoning a series of constructs and sending gouts of dark flame at Scion. For his part, the Entity wasn’t using any powers at all, just his physical strength and speed. 

The conflict lasted only a few seconds until Alexandria hit Scion so hard, she knocked aside his guard. Instantly, Wyatt fired a lance of dark purple, which struck Scion in the side. 

“Enough!” Scion boomed. For a moment, Hannah thought that Alexandria and Wyatt would press on, but Alexandria was bleeding and battered, breathing hard, and she floated in midair, eyeing Scion.

“You are strong. Your strength is not explained by the Shard of Eden within you, nor the Elemental Energy your Vision grants. There is something else. An energy I have never detected before. It scratched me. See, my side, it bleeds.” 

Indeed, there was a dark gold patch on Scion’s right side. It was a shallow gash, but it was a wound. Hannah felt a sense of elation. If their early prototypes could do this…granted, Scion hadn’t used even a fraction of the powers he’d demonstrated before he’d acquired the Gnosis, but it was something. If they took him unawares, with enough power…even now, they might stand a chance.

Less than 2.37%, Armory chimed in. The Warrior’s Avatar was using only his forms physical characteristics. This new energy can wound him, but it would take a great deal to destroy the Avatar.

Hannah nodded grimly and filed that away. 

“Then we demand our boon,” Alexandria said.

Scion nodded. “Speak.”

“We Americans have discovered this energy. We call it Abyssal Energy. We wish to study it. Develop it. But the Archons would destroy us. They fear this energy to an unreasonable degree. They would wipe us out, and no further research would be done. We ask you to side with us, and command them to allow us to continue our research,” Alexandria explained. 

Scion listened with an unreadable stoic expression. At last, he nodded. “Very well. Depart.” 

Alexandria landed beside Hannah, who hurried to support her. A door formed, and they all headed for it, save Kevin, who stayed bowing in supplication and awe. 

Just before the door closed, Hannah saw Scion land and reform the statues that had been destroyed in the brief clash. This time, however, there were six brides.

The last was carved from marble and had Alexandria’s features.

Hannah shuddered. Duke was right. Whatever came…they had to take down the Cyclists. She left Alexandria in the medical bay and went to find her new ally. He seemed to share her dislike of Scion and Archons alike, and if he was as loyal as the dog he used to be…

Well. Hannah could use another friend, especially with David gone. She missed him, even if she didn’t miss his arrogance. She half considered going to check on him, but dismissed it. Perhaps she’d take Duke out to Fugly Bob's. The joke was, even a starving dog wouldn’t eat that slop, but Hannah had a soft spot for the greasy burger chain. Maybe Duke would, too.