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Yesterday, this was an ordinary twenty-first century city. Today it's a war zone, tomorrow it'll be walled off and abandoned.
A few collapsed buildings, shattered streets, and assorted craters. The place is mostly empty, with scattered groups of mostly humanoid monsters roaming and trying to escape the guarded fence around the city. The most instantly noticeable change is an ongoing wordless singing in the back of the mind of anyone present. By itself it's just a sound. An unpleasant sound, and almost but not quite predictable as if someone were trying to attack the listener's sanity without saying anything, but possible to ignore. But along with it, any time a listener closes their eyes they get flashes of memories. Not their worst memories, but whatever negative ones can stick with them unforgettably. It builds up associations between the feelings in those images and almost anything else. Sometimes there's a recognizable common thread and other times there isn't.
An angel fights off teams of opponents. She's fifteen feet tall, extremely winged, with more wings than is strictly necessary for an angel. Even some of her wings have wings. All of them are asymmetric and varyingly sized. A spherical halo of weaponry surrounds her, firing at her more distant enemies from across the battlefield. Her opponents cycle in and out: a golden man, a man surrounded by a bubble, a woman in a dark costume, all flying. Others make certain to stay away after taking their turn, on rare occasions spending too long hearing the angel's music. Those ones voluntarily self-destruct.
A small group of ordinary humans takes refuge in a house as far from the battle as they can reach. The song is quieter here, and, they hope, less potent. Some of them run away from and back to the house, occasionally calling for help. They haven't found any.
whole_new_can
wormcan
"Hazardous materials, on the inside. The mutants weren't the only things to come through."
Non-Armsmaster people don't all just accept that at face value, "What, all the time?"
Non-Armsmaster people don't all just accept that at face value, "What, all the time?"
ertia
"I have to sleep. Unfortunately. If anybody has a way around that I want it. Can you identify the materials you want gone?"
wormcan
He starts writing the list of descriptions while the others worry about more organizational things.
"If not sleeping is important enough, Panacea could theoretically help. But she lives in Brockton Bay and is overworked already. Some tinkers myself included have unusually good stimulants, as far as that goes. But tinkering time is valuable so it would once again have to be important enough."
"If not sleeping is important enough, Panacea could theoretically help. But she lives in Brockton Bay and is overworked already. Some tinkers myself included have unusually good stimulants, as far as that goes. But tinkering time is valuable so it would once again have to be important enough."
ertia
"The more stuff I do - there has to be a variety, I can't just hang out in hospitals all the time - the more stuff I can do. I'm on a biphasic sleep schedule to cut down on backslide. What does she do? Could I do some of what she's doing to solve the sleep problem?"
She looks at the list. She demats the hazmats.
She looks at the list. She demats the hazmats.
wormcan
"Panacea cures all. Keeping someone awake should be strictly easier. She can't do brains, so you'd still have to rest occasionally. Based on the treatment you managed here, yes, you could do much more in a hospital than she typically manages."
This is one of those people who gets more powerful. At least she has to earn it in some sense.
This is one of those people who gets more powerful. At least she has to earn it in some sense.
wormcan
"About a thousand miles east. There's transport available, but not much call for using powers while on one."
ertia
"Anybody want to accompany me so I'm not just carrying myself, and maybe point out useful stops?"
ertia
And without further ado Kithabel scoops them both up in sorcery and whisks them east. On the way, she replaces a misplaced Great Lake, refills a mine, calms an overexcited thunderstorm, decontaminates a location identified for her as having a lot of radiation in it, and shamelessly defaces a boring-looking mountain until it's much prettier and has nice veins of crystal running through it.
She (doesn't quite) land in Brockton Bay where her passengers direct. And fixes a pothole. "Can one of you introduce me to Panacea?"
She (doesn't quite) land in Brockton Bay where her passengers direct. And fixes a pothole. "Can one of you introduce me to Panacea?"
wormcan
Triumph has already called Panacea, toward the end of the five-hour flight. (Velocity did most of the asking about how this weird power works, along with less relevant regular conversation that he probably isn't reporting back to Armsmaster on.)
The first thing Panacea notices is the lack of mask. "No secret identity? Hi, I'm Amy."
The first thing Panacea notices is the lack of mask. "No secret identity? Hi, I'm Amy."
ertia
"No secret identity. I'm always working." (Kithabel was not without attention to the way Velocity asked questions.) "I'm Kithabel. Speaking of me always working, rumor has it you might be able to help me not sleep. I cannot overstate how valuable that would be."
wormcan
"You're always working, and you want to be always working more?
I can help a bit, I can keep you going indefinitely physically, but you'd still get less attentive and alert at the usual rate.
If that'd help, Triumph mentioned clearing out hospital rooms in exchange?"
I can help a bit, I can keep you going indefinitely physically, but you'd still get less attentive and alert at the usual rate.
If that'd help, Triumph mentioned clearing out hospital rooms in exchange?"
ertia
"You understand," nods Kithabel. "And yeah, I can heal. After a while I need to be doing other things, but I can still go through a lot of people and it's strictly better than sleep."
wormcan
"Must be nice, having a lot depend on doing other things. All right, deal. I could do it now if you want."
She extends a hand.
She extends a hand.
wormcan
And she feels pretty much the same, actually. Muscles less fatigued, but most of the work she has been doing wasn't with her muscles. Eyes no longer tired. And so on.
And, whispered, "You're not a parahuman at all?"
And, whispered, "You're not a parahuman at all?"
ertia
"I don't know whether to expect to be able to keep it or who'll care - show me some people I can heal while we talk?"
wormcan
"This way." She leads Kithabel in a direction that she's extremely used to going. (Of course, she's traveling at foot speed.)
"It's like, when you're a cape information matters. Who you're up against, that kind of thing. Lots of capes hide exactly what they can do.
Not being a parahuman at all is obviously a big change from the norm, and I'd expect something that size to be kept secret. No idea who'd end up using it if they knew or how."
"It's like, when you're a cape information matters. Who you're up against, that kind of thing. Lots of capes hide exactly what they can do.
Not being a parahuman at all is obviously a big change from the norm, and I'd expect something that size to be kept secret. No idea who'd end up using it if they knew or how."
ertia
"I don't know either. I'm not practiced at keeping secrets and I don't know how long to hold onto that one, but I suppose I'd rather everyone not know."
Heal heal heal healhealheal.
Heal heal heal healhealheal.
wormcan
"I'm sure someone could use it against you somehow. I can keep it quiet, of course. Confidentiality."
Panacea is oddly a bit conflicted about the mass healing going on, and not because she's being supplanted as the world's foremost healer, but she doesn't volunteer what she's thinking.
Panacea is oddly a bit conflicted about the mass healing going on, and not because she's being supplanted as the world's foremost healer, but she doesn't volunteer what she's thinking.