Got the Grimoire, Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Interludes: Various

Colin Wallis swung his halberd around in another complex maneuver, relishing in the power singing through his limbs. Ordinarily he’d have to be wearing his power armor in order to swing the weapon with such speed, but thanks to Magu- Mak’s enhancements, he could lift the weapon with ease. He felt a twinge of jealousy at the younger hero’s abilities before burying the feeling and reminding himself that Mak was no Dauntless, content to coast on his ever growing abilities. The young man had joined the Protectorate almost immediately upon gaining his powers (just like Colin himself, another point in the man’s favor) and remained a valued member even when he’d long passed the point of needing a team.

It was only by reminding himself of his teammate’s virtues that Colin resisted the urge to outright quit or request a transfer some days. It was hard to feel like a proper leader or even useful, when dealing with a cape that could level cities on his own.

Once he’d finished another round practice techniques, he headed to his lab to log some hours tinkering. He was pleasantly surprised to see an active light blinking on his main computer.

“Dragon,” he greeted, accepting the incoming call. “How are you?”

“I’m well, Colin,” she said with a smile. “Yourself?”

“Still adjusting to my new Brute rating. Might need to fine tune my armor some more to compensate,” he said.

“Brute rating?”

Right, he’d forgotten amidst all the other happenings in Brockton. “Magus recently gained the power to bestow additional physical prowess or boost one’s powers if given a ‘sacrifice’, almost like some ancient deity of the past,” he explained. “A few minor offerings of home-brewed booze and he upped me to a Brute 2. I can lift approximately seventy-five percent more than I could previously for a considerably longer period of time. I am also more resistant to blunt force trauma, though I have yet to test with sharp objects or projectiles yet.”

Alarm crossed Dragon’s features. “That sounds far too much like a physical version of Teacher to be safe or vetted.”

“Please, we’ve learned since then,” Colin scoffed. “We had Magus enhance several agents to varying degrees and watched them closely, even brought in Panacea later to check them over. No lingering effects whatsoever. The cost of Magus’ enhancements is the sacrifice itself, no ill effects or undue influence detected.”

“Still… that almost seems to good to be true,” Dragon said. “But then again, so do many things about Magus. I suppose we’ll just have to show some more faith in him.”

“He hasn’t let us down so far,” Colin agreed.

“So what sort of adjustments are you going to be needing to make to your armor?” Dragon asked, locking into Tinker mode. “I assume additional protection will be needed?”

“I’m content with the balance of actual plating at the moment, it allows an even mix of agility and defense. I was thinking of adding some additional technology to the helmet, boost my anti-Master/ Stranger defenses and general battlefield awareness,” he explained. “With Magus in play, I no longer have to be the best fighter in the field. I can instead, focus more on my role as a leader above all else.”

“That’s an admirable path, but aren’t you planning on leaving Brockton Bay at some point?”

“Eventually, yes. But even still, Magus’ enhancements have also reversed the degradations of age that I’d begun experiencing. I’m confident that as a fighter, I am better than ever. Focusing on other aspects of my abilities is a wiser course of action, aspects that I haven’t been able to give as much attention due to the previous state of Brockton Bay.”

“I see… Improving your overall toolkit, rather than continuing to specialize.”

“Exactly. I’ll always be a front line melee fighter at my core, too much of my training and tinkering has been focused on that, but there’s more to being a hero than just those things.”

“Being a mentor has made you wiser, Colin,” Dragon said with what Colin could swear was a small smirk.

“Maybe,” he said noncommittally. “I’ve seen a noticeable increase in my popularity, both online and in person since I started training Magus. I’ve even attended a social event and- Why are you smiling?”

“Oh no reason,” Dragon said, still smiling. “It’s just nice to see you getting along with your fellow heroes, that’s all.”

“Hm.” He began to check the status of his ongoing projects, feeling a wave of annoyance once more at the fact he had to build all of the things that would improve him while Magus and Dauntless just had to-

No, do not spiral again. Channel your frustration into productivity.

“The nanothorns are coming along nicely,” Dragon said idly, looking at something on her end of the connection. “Only another week or two before you have enough to make a test prototype.”

“Plenty of time to make more for Leviathan then,” Colin commented. “Assuming Magus’ prediction comes true.”

“You have your doubts?”

Colin shrugged. “Magus himself has commented that his interference has already caused ripples. We also know that the Endbringers are more intelligent than they appear. Perhaps they’ve already changed targets or are planning to attack sooner. We just don’t have enough information on them to make an accurate guess either way.”

“You’re right, of course. But being a Protectorate team leader, one with a high level Mover on your team, you will have a chance either way to test them I’m sure.”

“So long as it remains Leviathan,” Colin pointed out. “My armor is useless against the likes of Behemoth and we’ve already seen that I’m less than effective against the Simurgh thanks to her flight.”

“I’m almost positive it will remain Leviathan. It remains the most active of them all.”

“What does the software say?” he asked.

“It’s still calculating, but current projections still point toward Leviathan. His target is more nebulous. We know that Endbringers will sometimes gravitate toward combat zones and while you had some vicious fighting, things in Brockton are starting to settle. He may well choose to attack somewhere else now.”

Unless Brockton Bay breaks out into chaos again. We still haven’t had any gangs attempt to move in, but it’s always a possibility.

Colin chose not to share his more pessimistic thoughts with Dragon. She didn’t need to the additional worries, it wasn’t her city after all.

They continued to work together as they had often in the past, making calculations, models, theories, and commenting on one another’s work as they sent blueprints and designs back and forth. But Colin felt that something was… off.

“Dragon, are you alright?” he finally asked. “You seem a bit off your rhythm today.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Small things. Little bits of hesitation, a pause too long, you’ve even been distracted once or twice. You seem to be troubled by something. I don’t wish to over step, but I consider you the closest friend that I have. I just wanted to make sure everything is well.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, not having intended to talk so much.

“I appreciate your concern, Colin, truly.” She bit her lip and closed her eyes before finally seeming to steel herself. “The Dragonslayers being captured did far more than remove a thorn from my side: It allowed me to finally work past certain limitations on my tinkering and self. The truth is, I’m not human. I’m an artificial intelligence originally created by a Tinker named Andrew Richter.”

Colin did as he always did. He took in the information, analyzed it, then responded. Needing more information was the only proper response to this revelation. “Tell me everything.”

So she did. About her creator and how he’d feared his own creations. How he’d practically crippled her at birth, forcing her to grow and adapt into what she had eventually become now. How the Dragonslayers had ended up possessing a backdoor into her systems, allowing them to steal far more from her than was public record. Certain asinine restrictions that practically made her into nothing more than a slave, when she could have been the greatest Tinker since Hero. By the end of it, Colin’s blood was boiling.

“What can I do to help?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “You… aren’t upset?”

“Why should I be? Yes you hid information from me, but not with any kind of malicious intent. You think that I would reject you, throw aside our friendship, just because you’re a digital life form rather than organic?” He smiled in a humorless manner. “I’ve often been accused of being robotic, of not understanding others. You are far more human than I am in certain respects. It is our character and actions that define us. You think, therefore you are, simple as that.”

Dragon nodded slowly, her face lighting up. “Thank you, Colin. I’m going to be sending you a number of files. Do what you will with them.”

Colin frowned as he reviewed the information sent. “Dragon, this is-“

“I am forbidden from asking anyone to remove my restrictions,” she said. “Do what you wish.”

Colin felt a moment of discomfort. She’d sent him information on her raw code, her very self. It felt… intimate. He felt a swell of gratitude at the trust being shown. “Very well. Thank you.”

She nodded briskly and they resumed their discussion on nanothorns. Certain avenues that had once been closed were becoming viable again thanks to a certain cape with a propensity for interfering.

***

Chris eyed the design critically, marking a few points on his blueprint that he wanted to reconsider, then did the math (and damn was it good for the numbers to finally make sense) once again. If everything went well, then his newest project since the Alternator Cannon might just be his greatest piece yet. Something that almost every Tinker made:

Power Armor.

Initially Chris had been hampered by his learning disabilities, but since Magus had fixed him, the quality of his tinkering had shot through the roof. Once he’d shown his progress to Armsmaster, the senior Tinker had approved a large increase to his budget. That in turn made other projects, ones that he’d abandoned, much more likely to be viable.

“Power source can be something similar to the AC, but what about weaponry,” he wondered to himself out loud.

“Can’t you just plug in another cannon?”

Chris flinched and spun only to see Missy smirking at him. “Have you tried knocking?!”

She shrugged. “I did. You were just really in the zone. Watcha working on?”

“Armor, like Armsmaster’s. Except mine is going to be able to fly,” he said proudly. Most Tinkers dreamed of flying. Few were able to actually make it viable, but Chris had already made the technology that could make it possible, he just needed to scale it a bit differently and it was totally possible to get his armor into the skies.

“Looks cool,” she said, glancing at the blueprints, not understanding a thing, then hopping up onto the workbench. She kicked her legs while looking around his lab. It was oddly adorable, but Chris didn’t dare comment on it lest she take offense. It was bad form to piss off the Shaker 9. “Your tinkering has gotten a lot better, huh?”

“Yeah, I’d like to think so,” Chris said. “Thanks to Magus at least. He really helped me focus and actually finish projects these days. I feel like I’m close to nailing down my specialty too. Like when you forget something and it’s just at the back of your mind, itching your brain…”

“Glad he’s been able to help you so much,” Missy muttered to herself. Chris might have been a little less than socially adept, but even he could hear the underlying bitterness. “Must be nice.”

“Have you considered that he hasn’t helped the rest of the Wards so much because he doesn’t think you guys need the help?” Chris asked. “I don’t think it’s so much a favoritism thing as it is a pity thing.”

“What? No, Chris, that’s not true-“

“Don’t deny it, I was the weakest Ward before,” he countered. “Probably the weakest Tinker in the city. Even Leet does better than me half the time, at least he finishes his projects, even if they do explode half the time.”

She puffed out her cheeks in a pout. “Still feels like he’s playing favorites.”

Chris let a smile play across his face briefly. Magus was a member of the Protectorate, he wasn’t supposed to be doing much with the Wards anyway seeing as he wasn’t their overseer, but Missy seemed to think that him and Triumph both should spend more time with them all since they were relatively speaking closer to their age.

“You’ve actually patrolled with him the most,” he pointed out tactfully. “Again, I think it says more about how well prepared he thinks you, Carlos, Dennis, and Dean are compared to me. Besides, he made us all these, right?” He fished out his pendant and let it gleam in the light.

Missy took a second to do the same. At first the pendants had all been the same basic silver jewelry, identical to each other and the same as what Magus handed out to the PRT, but after a while honing his craft, he’d made customized charms for each member of the Wards and Protectorate. Chris’ was a stylized KW tied together with red copper wiring and a stripe of gold cutting across both letters. Missy’s was a fancy V that looped off into a spiral, small studs of what looked like emeralds embedded throughout.

“They are pretty nice,” she admitted. “Saved me a painful injury or two in the last week.”

“Same. So he isn’t playing favorites, he’s doing what he can to keep all of us safe. Even though we aren’t his responsibility.”

Missy still looked skeptical, but she finally gave a small shrug. “I guess you’re right. Thanks for talking it out with me. I tried talking to Dean and he just got all weird.”

“Yeah, him and Magus don’t get along too well. He was probably just being neutral to avoid saying anything bad about Magus, he’s professional like that,” Chris said distractedly. That itch was there again while he checked the weapons designs. The way the suit was set up, it was almost like he could just plug and play different weapon systems…

“Yeah, since day one basically,” she mused. “I think they’re both kind of similar. White knights who get in people’s business, even when they aren’t asked. Not cause they’re nosy or anything, but because they care and- Chris, are you even paying attention?”

He wasn’t anymore. Something had just clicked. “I’ve got it!” he shouted, joy filling his voice. “Missy, you’re a genius, I’ve got it!”

As he scrambled around the room gathering tools and materials, Missy smiled to herself and walked out quietly. Best not to get in between a Tinker and his work.

***

Taylor woke up in an unfamiliar bed, panic momentarily making her gather a swarm before she remembered where she was. It had been a couple of days since Mak and Mimi had agreed to let her stay over, but the disorientation of the place not being her own had yet to fade. It was a Saturday, so no school, which made her kind of anxious. What was she supposed to do with herself for a whole day? Patrol? Find a new place to set up insect nests, now that her house was a no-go?

The smell of bacon made her stomach rumble and she wandered out into living room/ kitchen area to find Mak in the middle of cooking. Checkered pajama bottoms and a shirt with some cartoon character shooting a blast of energy outward made him look surprisingly domestic. If it wasn’t for the lean muscle that cape life had added, she’d have easily mistaken him for an average office worker who enjoyed t.v and video games more than most.

“Morning,” he said cheerfully. “I made enough food for you, if you want some. Oh and hot water is on the stove, if you want some tea.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled. She fixed herself a cup of Earl Grey and grabbed some bacon, eggs, and toast before tucking in. She noticed Mak sitting with his head bowed, eyes closed, lips moving silently. His eyes abruptly opened and he clapped his hands together briefly over the food before finally beginning to eat. “What was all that about?”

He blinked at her for a moment before he understood what she was asking. “Oh, just uh, saying grace. I don’t do it out loud cause it bugs people, you know?”

Taylor nodded in understanding. Her own family used to say grace before meals, but after Mom had died…

Well, she and her dad hadn’t felt much of a need to do so afterwards.

“I didn’t know you were religious. Most capes aren’t,” she commented.

“I’d say groups like the Fallen and Haven make that patently untrue.”

“They’re outliers.”

“Hm, and how would you know?”

Taylor squirmed, not wanting to admit that she had once been (and to a degree, still was) a massive cape nerd who had hunted down bits on PHO, interviews online and in magazines, and clips off of various talk shows when she’d been younger and more obsessed. “Oh just… research.”

“Hm. I guess going through the worst day of your life with powers as a consolation prize is a good way to make people lose faith or at least make them agnostic.”

“Maybe. But its not always the worst day of our life.” The words came out before she could stop herself and she cursed internally. Triggers were supposed to be super personal, that’s what Lisa had told her when she’d accidentally asked the blonde about them.

Mak caught the slip though and zeroed in on it. “The locker wasn’t the worst day for you?”

Taylor pressed her lips together and tightened her left hand into a fist beneath the table, where he couldn’t see it. She took a slow and deliberate drink of her tea before answering. “It was certainly horrible and memorable, but no, it wasn’t the worst day.”

“The day your mother died,” he said. His voice had become flat, unreadable.

“…Yeah. Yeah, that was the real worst day of my life. Surprised I didn’t get powers then.”

Mak nodded, eyes going distant as he considered. “Mine is the same. I don’t think powers are always truly the worst day of our lives. I think its more… the moment that we finally take too much and we break.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “I mean seriously, the real worst day of my life has to be when either of my parents got murdered, but the day I triggered was when I took a bottle of pills and a few too many swigs of whiskey.”

Taylor felt a chill run down her spine. She’d contemplated certain outs before too, but never actually tried to go through with any of them. “And all we get in return are powers.”

“Ones that usually don’t even help all that much,” he agreed.

They sat in silence for a minute before Taylor mentally shook herself. She didn’t have time to be in a funk. “Where’s Mimi?”

“Follow-up interview with the bank she applied for,” Mak replied. “Fingers crossed.”

“You want her to find her own place?”

“What, just cause I want her to be financially independent?” he asked, amusement crossing his face. “Mimi can stay here as long as she wants, but financial independence is important, for one’s self esteem if nothing else. No one wants to live off of someone else’s charity.” He paused. “Well, some people do, but they’re lame. Don’t be lame, Tay.”

“I’ll try not to be.”

“Speaking of money and jobs…” He leaned forward, a gleam in his eye. “You given any more thought to joining the Wards?”

“Why are you so insistent about me joining them,” she grumbled.

“Because I get a year-end bonus for every young and impressionable parahuman that I manage to recruit,” he said without skipping a beat. He must have seen the disgust and horror on her face because he burst into a deep belly-laugh. “I’m just giving you crap. Nah, I just want to help you, that’s all. I feel like you’d get along pretty well with them and it would give you a firmer support network. A lot safer. Plus, you’d get paid, both now and a larger trust fund for college in the future.”

College. Right. Once, that had been Taylor’s priority, but doing that just felt so… petty, now that she was a cape. “Not really sure if I’ll be doing that to be honest.”

“Hey, having a good job is vital to maintaining a good cover identity. Plus, college is fun. Um, so I’ve heard. Mostly from Crystal.”

“Didn’t you go to college?”

“Sure, but I was something of a loner. You hear about these wild parties and hookups and that just wasn’t my scene. Pretty boring compared to some of the stories I hear, lemme tell you.”

“Definitely sounds like it…” She sipped her tea some more. “I’ll give you the same answer I always have: I’ll consider it.”

“Alright, alright, I’m not your dad, I’ll quit bugging you about it.”

His words made a pang go through her. “Speaking of dads…”

“Hm?”

“Would you mind doing something for me?”

“Of course.” No hesitation. No asking for clarification. Lisa was right, Mak took his friendships seriously, maybe even to a fault.

Taylor explained what she needed and Mak just nodded once she’d finished. “I’ll go get my car.”

***

The car wasn’t technically Mak’s, but a PRT issued vehicle that he was able to borrow basically on demand. He hadn’t yet bought a car due to not really needing one, other than for a cover identity.

“I’ll wait right here. You need anything, just send a bug my way,” Mak said once again.

Taylor nodded, not really paying attention to him and more going over what she was going to say. Rehearsing never hurt, it made the words flow easier.

They pulled up to her stop and she hopped out, returning Mak’s thumbs-up gesture with an awkward half smile and then marched up to her front door and knocked.

Her dad opened the door, his eyes bleary with bags beneath them. He flinched when he saw her. “Taylor…”

“Hey, dad.” She shifted uncomfortably before steeling herself. If she could fight Lung of all people, she could do this. “I thought we should talk.”

***

A/N: Man, I wish I could just write for a living. I average anywhere between 1800-3000 words when I get in a good flow state, but that generally requires an entire day. If I could just do that for a living... man, what a dream. Anyway, just some outside perspectives, reminder that Mak's POV isn't everything and people got their own stuff going on too. I think time at this point is going to start speeding up a bit, Mak has himself established now and most of the biggest threats are gone, now it's just prepping for the Endbringers and Scion. Which means this story might be coming to a close soonish... That's a weird feeling, after writing nothing but this for so long. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy, and I'll catch you later.