Ultra Worm (2)

A/N: Sorry for the slight delay. If you live under a rock, the World Cup began on Sunday, and Brazil just had its first game yesterday. That means here in Brazil it was pretty much a holiday, and I didn't resist the barbeque my family made.

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Nights at the Docks were dark. One would think that would be normal, but dark was never really a common sight to see in a city, not even around industry, some of which worked nonstop every day and had to have excellent illumination. That was not the case in Brockton Bay, however, where only a small fraction of its remaining industry still worked but only just barely.

The streets were cracked and pavement would sometimes be outright non-existent in some places, and the darkness was only mildly reduced in the more residential areas of the Docks due to lights coming from inside the homes. Even then, however, there was a clear abandonment. Every block there would only be a few houses with lights on and no more to illuminate the streets since there were no lampposts to do it. The neglect was clear, it was almost as much as the Trainyard or the Boat Graveyard, left entirely forgotten by the city council and other municipal authorities and powers.

It also was an excellent place for a gang to install in.

"All personnel have fully undergone training, sir," said the minion. Though 'minion' was a term I used very loosely, and only because the person talking to me was created because of my power. "All equipment has been sourced and distributed. Everyone has armor, a main weapon, a side weapon and a melee alternative, as well as further equipment for specializations and the necessary training."

I hummed for a moment. "Good," I nodded. "How is research?" I then asked a moment later. "Last I heard, you were still trying to crack energy weapons."

"We've… encountered some amount of progress, sir," the minion informed with a grimace. "Replicating the same mechanisms to eject plasma projectiles only took some time, but the energy required to do this was much bigger than expected. We have been looking for alternatives ever since."

"I see," I nodded, ideas already going through my head. I knew I had given an energy specialization to one minion as it was one of the basic requirements for any sort of infrastructure alongside the Shaker power that literally allowed for atomic rearrangement, matter conversion and creation. Perhaps I could also push another specialization. Nuclear was an excellent power source, if very risky if not handled correctly, but I trusted my minions to not turn the city into the ground zero of a nuclear catastrophe. "I think I might have a solution," I declared a second later. "Bring me to Electro later, and also Bob, I'll have something for the two of them that might help with that."

"As you say, sir." He bowed. "First models of power armor of mass production having been fabricated, tested and approved, we are only waiting for your order to begin mass production of these models and the development of a comprehensive training regimen." I was prompted.

"That was faster than I expected," I noted with a murmur and a raised eyebrow. "Excellent job." I praised. "Tell to begin production, enough so every person has one armor as well as a spare model, and then hold on production. The personal suit Tony wanted to make…?"

"All ready, sir," I was told. "Tony only wanted to see you before revealing it."

I paused.

"Really?" There was a nod. "Let's go see him then."

The base was a sprawling thing, constructed below a warehouse and connecting to many other points. I had inspired myself on Coil to do this underground base, but that was only a temporary measure, I would one day build a grandiose place, a veritable fortress above ground, able to house thousands and sustain the might of even the Endbringers themselves.

The workshop of this base was perhaps it's largest room, far outstripping the barracks or even the training grounds simply because it had everything. Production lines, generators, fabricators. Literally, everything my Tinkers have produced could be found here, and as such, this place was absolutely massive. So big in fact that we were forced to take a car to travel to Tony's corner in a practical time.

Tony himself was just like the man I had envisioned him as. Brown hair, a goatee and an air of quiet superiority hidden behind a funny mask. He wasn't Robert Downey Jr., but rather my own interpretation of comic books Tony Stark, and I thought he fit very well.

"Tony," I called the man who swirled around his chair to meet me. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, hey Adam," the brunet greeted back. "Good to see you too. You here to see the suit?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Second said it was ready, and I admit I’m more than a little curious to see what you’ve done.”

“Heh,” Tony laughed with a lopsided smirk. “I think you just might like it. C’mon, it’s in the back.”

His workshop was a mess. It was far from the biggest one around, even though it had a decent size, but almost all of it was cluttered with tools or parts, and the racks had frames and skeletons of unfinished armors to be worked on stands. Still, despite all the chaos Tony was able to expertly move around the place, guiding us while showing a few models and offering brief explanations of what the design was meant to be, and what purpose the armor was intended for when it was built.

Until we reached a wall.

"That's it," Tony said. "Your armor is behind this wall."

"My armor?" I raised an eyebrow, which was completely missed by the brunet that kept tapped on a panel.

There was a mechanical click of the wall detaching, and then a his as it slid open. The Tinker completely disregarded my inquisitive look in favor of smirking proudly as the lights went on, illuminating a giant frame.

My eyes widened.

The armor was tall, standing at six feet and nine inches, five inches taller than I was. It was a large plated thing that looked just as heavy and thick as it looked bulky. Not too much, however, because there was a sense of slimness to the design that gave it the impression of speed.

"Wow…" I breathed.

"I know," Tony chuckled. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is." I nodded numbly.

"Made of a meta material," the inventor started, "this suit has the power to sustain the concentrated barrage fire of a tank platoon for prolonged periods with only mild damage sustained to its structure. It's light, weighing around seven hundred pounds and also very mobile. It can run at thirty five miles per hour with a top speed of fifty at a full sprint. Steel is worthless next to the power this suit can exert, and by itself it could easily give you a Brute rating of 5."

"That's very impressive," I declared, eyes wide in amazement. And I knew it didn't end.

"Of course," Tony smirked. "Only the best for you, sire. Though, this is just a Mk. I model, I still plan to make it much, much better."

"That's… I have no doubt you will, Tony."

"Thank you, sir. But now that's done, I have to ask you…" the brunet paused dramatically to generate suspense. No one fell to his tell, staring at him with blank stares that made him huff. "What about the paint job?" He asked a moment later without missing a beat, as if nothing had happened.

We blinked.

"Personally," he continued. "I would go with a gold in red accent. Some might say it’s a bit gaudy, certainly far too lavish and pompous, or even go so far as to declare it an ostentation. They would be right, of course, but that doesn’t mean you look bad, only that they’re jealous.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I… take it you have an idea of your own, already…” I muttered, getting only a single wolfish smile in response that told me it all. I grunted. “Whatever, Do what you will. You were the one to design the armor, after all.”

“Oh you just made my day.” Tony smiled, starting to rub his hands. “I’ll have it ready before any action we might take. I promise you.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” I grunted. “I’ll leave you to your own business then. Second, let’s go. We still have plans to make.”

“Of course sire,” the minion nodded, falling in step behind me.