Orb Weaver: Wrath of God, 5

I returned home later that afternoon. Armsmaster had warned me about going after the Empire myself. I agreed. “The Investigator is not suited for direct fights,” I had told him. He also mentioned that I should be very careful of who I spoke to and report any odd lapses in memory or skills to the PRT immediately.

“When facing a Master,” he told me. “Retreating is not cowardice.”

I knew that, but it was… nice that he was thinking of me.

Dad wasn’t home. That was good. I had some experiments to work with. I took my rage, remembered the way Sheila had looked and pulled it out of my swarm, stopped putting my tells into them. My skin went cold. I was sitting in my room, and then without warning, I jumped up, screamed in rage, grabbed the little table by my bed, and threw it at the wall. It was hardwood. Even with my work in building my body up it was hard to lift, and I felt my muscles strain. Then it was lying on the far side of my room, the plaster wall dented.

I wanted to scream, rage, but now I took it, bundled it back in, stoked my anger without letting any sign show.

And I felt my range… increase. My bugs responded quicker to my call.

I breathed in. Wrestled my feelings to serve me, keeping the range…

Bugs coiled and moved in the darkness. A rat died thrashing as it was torn to shreds. Centipedes moved through the shrubs, jaws working. Maggots started gorging themselves…

I breathed out.

Rage without control was nothing.

This is my tool. I am not its tool.

PHO had rumors of a man named Lebensraum, a villain, moving into the Bay on the E88s request, along with some other minor parahumans. Most of the rest were low level, barely beyond what a trained human could do, at least if the data was correct. The online information about him was vague, save that he had at least 30 murders to his name, him and his band. Police were ordered not to engage. His gang showed Brute powers, sometimes strong enough to bounce pistols and possibly rifles, with strength topping out at 3 times a human’s strength.

Enough to literally rip someone apart. And they showed little reluctance to target civilians.

Flipping through the videos, dozens of bug-controlled screens, I observed some of the video’s of him in action.

My expression didn’t change as I watched the filmed outcome of a father of 4 trying to protect his children from the Brute 6.

Worse than Hookwolf, with less control than Hookwolf, and yet, unlike Hookwolf, he associated himself with racist groups quickly enough to take advantage of their legal and political power. Which is why he is not Birdcage bound. I shook my head. There was the other option that the PRT didn’t want to tell the power-granting Brute that he was bound for the Birdcage and so there was no reason to hold back. They could always let him know on the way to the Birdcage.

I switched to my subverted security cameras in the Empire’s territory. Not all of them had been “Damaged” and thus fixed with my additions. After all, every camera breaking would be very suspicious and very poor tradecraft. Lebensraum had a scar on the left side of his face, a relic of the riot where he got his powers and he never obscured it.

Pride, I suppose. Well, I’d use his stupidity to help me.

I could only “read” data at a human speed. But I’d figured a work around for that. I could take data from hundreds of different perspectives, and make use of it, so my bugs started playing back a 30 second clip of the downloaded information, only each clip was thirty seconds ahead of the one before. So in one thirty second period in real time, I managed to observe thirty minutes of combined footage. Which was good, because there was a lot of footage. I also used the same tactic to listen to the audio from some of the cameras, as well as the USB memory I’d retrieved on my regular outings, some of which I’d delayed reading due to Leviathan’s attack.

Even so, it took me a long time. Fifteen minutes. Then I saw the image of a man getting out of a van, surrounded by others wearing E88 markings, and walking into one of the less reputable E88 Bars.

After all, I had chosen the cameras to damage with an eye towards useful locations. The men around him…

They walked in a coordinated style, that reminded me of my swarms. Did he have control over them? I ran the footage back, watching it. One man stepped out of the way of a passerby, but he wasn’t looking at them—ah, what one saw, they all saw. A subconscious urge or conscious power aspect, I wondered.

And could Lebensraum control it? The PHO and accessible law enforcement records I had focused on his ability to boost their strength and resilience, or feed it into his own body. Yet if what one saw, all saw… that was almost more useful, and explained why so many police attempts to stop him had ended before the no-engagement rule came out.

I ran the video ahead a bit, minutes flashing by. Yes. The van had a license plate and more importantly, now I could follow it using the Brockton Bay traffic cams which were spotty in coverage but were enough to localize what neighborhood they were going to.

It took me a while, but it looked to be one of the middle class E88 domains. Not so poor a car moving through would be noticed, not so rich as to risk incriminating the ‘better’ sorts who did their evils with money and politics rather than fists.

I would kill him.

It was odd how easy that thought came. But he and his gang were responsible for endless lives killed, and worse, every record agreed that he was a small, petty thug, the exact time most likely to try to slaughter those around him when things started getting difficult for the Empire. As much as I wanted to start with Victor, the out of town cape with no local ties and a taste for murder had to come first. A victory that saw the Bay choked with the bodies of the innocent was no victory.

But how… Just kill him without warning?

No. When. I would give him a “chance” to leave the Bay. He wouldn’t take it. They would set up guards, and I would kill him in a way to maximize the fear of the Empire while taking their new weapon away from him.

As to how?

Even most Brutes had to breathe. It would not be a fight. For my purposes, it could not be seen to be a fight. It had to be an execution, preferably of the kind that made people wonder if the Slaughterhouse had dropped by—No. No, not so obvious. A mysterious death, he and his gang alike, letting people draw their own conclusions, with each theory on PHO being worse than the last.

And if any little feelings of doubt arose? I just glanced at the video, taken by one of his gang, of the terrified look on a soon to die father’s face as he realized, too late, just what Brute 6 meant when murdering a non-parahuman.

No. I had no qualms whatsoever. The limit of my mercy would be offering him a chance to humbly surrender… yes. Yes. He would refuse, and that would make the impact of my later actions better.

But first I had to do something else.

****

“Detective Harding”

“Yeah?”

“You have vacation time, I take it?”

“Never had a chance to use it—“

“Do so. Now.”

“Yeah, sort of a bad time with the way the PRT is calling us in. They’re checking for anyone who might have met that Teacher’s Pet.”

Not a bad cover story…

“I cannot speak to specifics. But you, specifically, may be in danger. But tell me, have you ever known outspoken minority officers who suddenly… behaved like they had lost all restraint?”

The phone went silent. Then Harding spoke. “Maybe. Is this something I should be worried about?”

“Likely not, but I am going to destroy the Empire, and they may lash out.”

“Holy… Sorry. I can’t go then. If that happens, it’s gonna be an all hands on deck.”

“You could be in danger.”

“Swore an oath.”

“….Very well. Be careful, Detective Harding. If you suddenly feel, in any way that you are… not yourself, go to the PRT.”

“Jesus. It wasn’t the Teacher’s Pet.”

“No. But I intend to resolve that issue, permanently. The Empire has committed an unforgivable sin. And I shall destroy them, root and branch.”

I hung up, because now I had to get somewhere else. I left a note for dad.

****

I wore the Investigator’s clothing as I walked up to Kurt and Lacy’s, knocking on the door.

Moments later, Kurt opened it, staring at me.

Unsurprisingly, he knew who I was, since he’d known me since birth.

“It is… The Investigator?”

“Yes. I don’t want to unmask to Maria or her boyfriend and his family.”

Kurt paused. “This is serious.”

“Yes. The closest thing the current situation comes to is when I faced Leviathan.”

When I walked into the dining room, Lacy was in the middle of talking to David’s parents, but everyone fell silent. I looked around and nodded.

“Hello, David, Maria. I’m afraid I can’t stay long—I’m here on Orb Weaver’s request.”

Maria swallowed.

Well, Orb Weaver wasn’t comforting.

“What is it?” Lacy asked.

“Orb Weaver has decided to destroy the Empire. He will no longer be abiding by any rules, and the Empire, like a wounded beast, may lash out.” I sighed. “Maria, you and David, according to Orb Weaver, ran into Hookwolf?”

“Um, yes?”

“Then you may be known to other members, and they may lash out. Orb Weaver came to inform me that I should suggest you temporarily leave town, no more than a week or two, and all should be resolved.”

“He expects to destroy the Empire?” David’s mother asked.

“Orb Weaver has been acting with restraint. No longer,” I said. “And he is sending me to clear the decks because…” Both of David’s parents were looking resistant. Any minority still in the Bay probably had long since internalized an unwillingness to simply flee their homes. But I couldn’t tell them everything. Even an accidental revelation of the existence of a master to people I couldn’t trust to remain silent could… But I didn’t have to say he was a master. “The Empire may have other capes entering the city. I do not know. But at least one of the cape’s powers was compared to Gray Boy of the Slaughterhouse Nine. He might target Maria and David.” The best truth, a technical truth.

Maria and David didn’t react, but the older people around the table went white.

David’s father nodded. “We can stay with your grandmother up in New Jersey.”

“You ever been to New York, Maria?” Lacy asked.

“Nope?”

“Well, two weeks should be fun,” Kurt said. “We’ll get your homework later.” He turned to me. “But what about you?”

“I can’t run. I am a part of this.” I tilted my head. “But I do have some surprises…”

****

I made my farewells. I had other people to see. Mr. Lake, Patricia Blackwell, everyone that Orb Weaver had contacted and made use of.

I would destroy the Empire. I would make them a monument.

And no other people would have their minds destroyed due to my stupidity.