Chapter 70

February 25

Invictus Palace

Early Evening

Today was a good day.

The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and Invictus’ first ever Housewarming Party was a resounding success.

I stood on the outside upper patio clad in my ‘Avalon’ attire, gilded gauntlets and all, watching as my colorful display of costumed guests talked loudly and openly with each other in our humongous, well-maintained yard. Half a dozen of my Spirit Attendants, having taken on the forms of twinkling silver ghosts, drifted across the grass carrying trays of ice-cold lemonade Sherrel had stocked up on the previous night. Old MJ played directly from my soul, just loud enough to be heard over the din of voices, and I bobbed my head to the music as I leaned against the railing.

‘This is the life.’

I spotted Aisha, sans her horned Imp mask, pulling a remarkably healthy and nervous looking Celia towards a lounging Snowcone, whose favorite shaded spot near the back of the yard was already surrounded by several heroes. There was Assault and Battery, taking pictures and openly laughing with each other, Miss Militia - who was tentatively touching one of the lazy dragon’s massive silver scales, and Triumph, who seemed stuck in a loop between scooting forward to pet him on the snout, or backing several feet away in fear. 

They had nothing to worry about. Snowcone was harmless unless given a reason to defend him or his own.

A loud, eager bark pulled my attention away from the massive dragon. The scent of fresh, mouth-watering burgers and hotdogs mingled beautifully with the smoky aroma of hickory wood, emanating from the big ass black grill Malcolm was currently slaving over, his huge, seven-foot-something self flipping patties with the familiar, passionate skill of a man well-used to backyard barbecues. He was wearing the refitted jumpsuit I’d given him before, except this time, he combined it with white tube socks and size 18 sandals, looking every bit the part of a stereotypical barbecue dad an extra few heads too tall.

Beside him, her Rottweiler mask pulled up over her long, messy crimson and white hair, was a tall, muscular woman leaning against the side of the grill, messily scarfing down a hotdog decorated with every condiment under the sun. Like Malcolm, she looked as if she was sculpted from marble itself, every contour and dip of her shredded muscles flexing beneath her fair skin. She was dressed light, in form-fitting athletic shorts, a black sports bra, and sneakers, and her gleaming, slitted golden eyes roamed back and forth over the party, bored, before flicking up to me.

I smirked, and waved. Bemused, she waved back.

Rachel Lindt. Formerly known as ‘Bitch’, now dubbed the infinitely cooler ‘Cerberus’.

Her body had taken to the Apex Serum even better than Malcolm’s had, according to Amy, and she’d been hungry for more upgrades once she realized just how much stronger she’d become. Those wolf-like eyes of hers? Ocular enhancements made to simulate a wolf’s wider peripheral and low light vision without sacrificing binocular fidelity or color. That slim little nose? Tweaked to take in every minute scent within hundreds of feet and track it down to the very source. 

There were other modifications, too, such as heightened elasticity and denseness in the leg muscles, and her hearing sharpened to a similar level as her sense of smell (with her ears tapered to a slight point), but the details began to bleed together after a while. All I knew was that she was quickly turning out to be one of our heavier hitters.

And that was before you took in the sight of the massive Rottweiler lounging beside her.

Calling Brutus a ‘good boy’ felt off, now - ‘good man’ seemed a lot more fitting. It wasn’t that he was some grotesque, brutally muscular monstrosity of what used to be a cute dog. He was still cute. Just… he was fucking big now, his entire body evenly scaled up roughly to the size of a notably large wolf. His teeth were the size of my fingers, his ears sharper and pulled up instead of flopping down, and overall? 

He simply looked more powerful, more regal. It was a slurry of upgrades that Amy, after being given consent by Rachel, gave to all of her pets, and the differences were like night and day. Even now, I could see Angelica and Judas playing in the grass, barking and chasing after each other - only, they now came up to just below an adult’s chest, and they were running faster than a speeding car. Fortunately the party wasn’t so packed that they didn’t have any room to maneuver, because I was certain that any non-Brute’s body would be pulverized if they were hit by two wolf-sized dogs running at ninety miles per hour.

She hadn’t tested out their monster forms. Not yet. I doubted any of us would be disappointed.

Inevitably, my gaze wandered away from the grumpy, unknowing love bugs and their pet dog, sliding over to the natural, crystal blue pond that was just as occupied as the yard. Amy, Victoria, Crystal, and Sarah lounged happily in the cool water, clad only in their respective swimsuits - fitting, considering none of them gave two shits about hiding their identities. While I could definitely admire a beautiful woman’s body, and they all had amazing bodies, I found it hard to keep my eyes off of Amy’s thick, shapely form. Call it bias all you want, but if I had to pick a favorite between Vicky’s trim, athletic body and Amy’s more curvaceous shape, I’d pick hers any day of the week.

I’d fucking eat ice cream off of her fat, freckled ass. She was banned from ever getting rid of her softness. Banned.

And they weren’t the only ones enjoying themselves. ‘Deadman’, the mercenary that apparently assisted my team with taking out the remainders of the Empire, sat at a table alongside Velocity and Dauntless, the three men discussing something too quietly for me to make out beneath the low hum of Thriller. Whatever the topic was, it must’ve caused a huge appetite because each of the men was nursing multiple burgers and a couple red silo cups of beer each.

All the ‘dude squad’ was missing was Armsmaster, but fuck that guy. I’d send them back with a couple glizzies to appease him. Wouldn’t want the neurotic narcissist experiencing FOMO.

Overall? We were about an hour in, the vibes were fucking immaculate, the music was bumping, and it was probably time to get the dragon rides started. Last I saw, Dragon(heh) - piloting a gynoid body that looked practically identical to her digital avatar - had already retreated to Cassie’s gamer girl den, along with Sabah, for ‘lady bonding’. Whatever the fuck that meant. I’d have to go and grab them before I sent Snowcone up into the sky, otherwise I’d never hear the end of it.

Out of everyone in Invictus, the only one that were unaccounted for was-

VROOOOOOM!

“WOOOOH!”

Sherrel.

Partygoers gasped and pointed as my blonde-haired ‘concubine’, clad in cowboy boots, jean Daisy Dukes, and one of those boobalicous flannel tops knotted beneath the tits, came zooming up the crashing waterfall on the side of Mount Invictus, lunging past  the lip of the mountain in a spray of glimmering water, and blasted up and over the yard. The motorcycle she was riding the fuck out of was a smooth, dangerous-looking beast of a vehicle, all sleek black and golden metal, so dark and glorious that it almost seemed to both repel and absorb the sunlight in equal measure. The thick exhaust pipes at the back end snarled an angry blue and silver flame, scorching the very air itself with its heat, and I took the moment to just admire it all.

Hunting Horror. Not for the first time, I was struck by just how fucking sweet my new ride looked.

God, I was definitely taking this baby with me when I left.

But then, Sherrel was landing the motorcycle on the balcony in front of me, unnaturally smooth tires screeching  against marble flooring in a picture perfect replica of the infamous Akira Slide. The sound of rubber squeaking and sliding against stone assaulted my eardrums before it slid to a stop, body damn near parallel to the floor.

“She’s rides like a fuckin’ dream, sugar!” Sherrel laughed, breathless with adrenaline and joy. Behind her, cheers and whistles erupted from the more vocal heroes watching from ground zero - Assault and Vicky being two of the loudest ones - and she took a quick second to look back and give the onlookers a very sardonic bow.

“It’s still hard for me to get over how stupidly skilled you are with such random shit,” I chuckled, an amused grin on my face. 

Sherrel sauntered up to my side, all thick, swaying hips and exposed,  washboard abs. “Comes with the package, pretty boy. I’m a world class pro with anything that needs pilotin’. My powers are pretty sweet like that.” Her arms wrapped around my left bicep, pressing me against her body trapping my arm between two warm, large balloons of tanned flesh.

She easily fell into step as I made my way back inside.

“Piloting, huh?” Idly, I tilted my head down and placed a soft kiss on the crown of her temple, cherishing the very girly giggle that left the badass mechanic. “… You ever watch Gundam, Sherr?”

“No?” She arched an eyebrow, giving me a vaguely bemused stare. “I told you I only played a couple RPGs in college, sweetie - ain’t ever get into those Japanese cartoons. That’s the kinda cute, nerdy bullshit KitKat watches, right?”

“Right,” I nodded, scratching my chin. “Ask Cassie to put you on. I think you’ll be really fuckin’ surprised by how much you like it.”

My thoughtfulness awarded me a snicker and a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, hon.”

She was probably just entertaining my own ‘nerdiness’ right now, but I was confident in my decision making process here. Sherrel + OP Mecha Anime could only be good for the world. Doubly so if we pulled Dragon into it.

And speaking of…

I smacked Sherrel on the ass. “Say- You mind heading to my bedroom and grabbing the girls? I’m gonna head out and entertain the masses, get ‘em ready for some good ole’ fun in the sun.”

We were at that junction in the atrium where you could either head back through the lounge into the backyard, forward through the front into the front yard, to the Left Wing for the residential area, or to the Right for the workshops and garage. The sound of giggling and feminine voices drifted from the left, and down that long stretch of a corridor, I saw the Master Bedroom’s door cracked open, spilling pink LED lights out into the hallway.

Sherrel huffed, but it was an amused one. “Tryna get rid of me already?”

I smirked. “Somehow I doubt you actually want to talk to a bunch of guests. The ‘rebellious lone cowgirl’ aura doesn't really give me that ‘gracious host’ vibe. But if I’m wrong, then by all means-“ 

“Nope!” Something like revulsion passed over the mechanic’s face when she glanced towards the front door. “God no. Always hated givin’ speeches. I’ll go assemble your harem, babe, no worries. Leave it to mama!”

She did a little ‘muscle woman’ pose, plump tits practically pushing out of her flannel top as she flexed her lean, yet undeniably muscular biceps, and for a second I only stared, deadpanned. Explaining that neither Sabah nor Dragon was in my ‘harem’, which wasn’t even a harem, wouldn’t solve anything. The girls already had a fucking group chat called ‘Avalon’s Harem’, so clearly I’d been fighting a losing battle this entire time anyway.

So I just chuckled wryly, and let it be. Many dudes would kill to be in my position. “That’s my woman.”

“You know it!”

And, with one last, steamy kiss that forced me to slide a particularly aggressive bulge down into my pants leg for propriety’s sake, we headed our separate ways.

Stepping outside once more brought me yet another surprise.

The first sign that something was up was the fact that, outside of my music and the roaring of the waterfall, the heroes were almost completely silent. There was no splashing from the pool, or laughter, or voices raised with pleasant conversation and laughter. It was almost eerie, and goosebumps played across my skin as I forced the large doors open with a slight push-

But when I saw the tall, dark, statuesque form of Alexandria hovering over the crowd, a bulging plastic bag held tightly in one fist, everything suddenly made sense.

The silence - hushed muttering, at most - was one of tension. Confusion. And a healthy amount of awe. Of course, Rebecca was just hovering there, probably soaking it in with a sardonic amusement. Something told me that the woman wasn’t as impressed by overt hero worship as your average world famous superheroine. I’d honestly thought that she wouldn’t come, but it made sense that a woman as busy as her would be fashionably late. 

‘Well then,’ I mused, taking one long, slow step forward, ‘Time to play the White Knight once again.’

Though, in this case, the Damsel could very well chuck me halfway across the country if I gave her the chance.

As soon as my boot touched dirt, I was gone in a woosh of air, fading away into magical nothingness and reappearing beside the larger-than-life form of Alexandria, my arm tossed casually over her armored shoulders. She stiffened immediately, the mismatched eyes beneath her glass-like visor darting in my direction, but other than that, she made no outward movement. Her face stayed carefully stoic. Unbothered.

My own lips curved into a friendly grin. 

“Nothin’ to see here, folks - let’s not make any guests uncomfortable. Alexandria’s just another friend of mine, like most of you. Ain’t that right, Alex?” 

Maybe I was testing my luck as Cauldron’s little Terminus project, but Hidden Intuition didn’t lie as far as I could tell. And high-strung, hyper-busy older women like Rebecca… They didn’t necessarily mind having some of those steel-like layers hammered back. They enjoyed it, even.

I saw it in the way she swayed those tight hips back into her little portal.

So I wasn’t too surprised when her tense shoulders tightened for one moment, muscles bunched up and charged with untold power… before she exhaled, doffing me with breath that smelled of icy cold mint, and all tension fled her body. A wry smile tugged on her soft, full lips. Lips that, I noticed, held a darker sheen than normal. Black lip gloss?

“You offered me free drinks and friendly conversation, Avalon,” she said coolly, though her strong voice seemed to carry for hundreds of feet. “I hope that I won’t be disappointed.”

Somehow, I felt like that sentence held more than one meaning.

I snorted.

“I haven’t failed yet. Anyways, the dragon rides will be commencing in about fifteen minutes! If you want a ride, be lined up near Snowcone in ten.”

Just like that, as we floated down to the ground, the tension beguiling the partygoers was forcibly dispelled, replaced by scattered cheers at the thought of riding on the back of a motherfucking dragon. Excitement was amped, energetic conversation being revitalized like a pulse of energy in the crowd. And that’s when the floodgates opened.

Miss Militia.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, ma’am.”

“Miss Militia! It’s been a long time, but I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here. Avalon has the tendency to… stick. But still, I’ve heard good things about your performance here in the Bay.”

“Thank you! I-… I’ve missed the old team, yes, but I’m proud of what I’m trying to do here, too. Things aren’t as grand, or well-funded, but I see a future where this city is truly peaceful. Or, as peaceful as it can be. I just have to work towards it.”

“… Hm. Keep it up, soldier. You’d be surprised at what the future may have in store.”

Victoria.

“Holy shit! I mean, crap- sorry, ma’am. It’s just - I didn’t expect to see you here, like, at all. I’m such a huge fan of yours, Alexandria! You’ve inspired my whole hero career. Crap, my whole life.”

“Glory Girl. You-“

“YOU KNOW MY NAME?!”

“… Ha. How could I not? The entire country compares you to me. Only, their comparisons are flattering. You are an impressive hero, young lady.”

“Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. Alexandria just complimented me. Ames, Crystal, I’m going to freaking faint. I’m gonna-“

Amy.

“So you’re the famous ‘Panacea’? It’s a pleasure to finally officially meet you, Amy Dallon.”

“… Just Amy is fine. Or ‘Amy Black’.”

“Hm?”

“And my cape name isn’t Panacea. I don’t have one anymore. Jason made it clear that I don’t need to force myself to be a hero.”

“I see. So I assume the rumors about your relationship that is floating around is true, then. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Alexandria. I’ll forward your well-wishes to Cassie and Sherrel as well.”

“… What?”

That one, admittedly, went a bit sideways, but I’d recently learned that Amy was developing a bit of a darker, more teasing side now that she was in full bloom. It made for a somewhat awkward silence once Rebecca and I finally made it to an unoccupied corner of the yard, nursing small glasses filled with a classic rum and coke. The rest of her refreshments were already set near Malcolm’s grill.

And her eyes, I noticed, were laser-focused on him. A heavy, intense stare that bordered on a glare. And there was darkness there. An entire boatload of it.

My muscles tensed.

I didn’t hesitate to dial my Intuition up.

Rebecca is flabbergasted. Rebecca is anxious. Rebecca is hopeful. Rebecca is worried. Rebecca is-

“You don’t need to read me, Jason. Somehow I doubt that secrets stay secrets when looked at with your particular set of, to be blunt, bullshit abilities.”

I blinked, and suddenly I was staring through the bulletproof visor, gaze locked with tired, deep set brown eyes. There was a heat in my gut that I hadn’t even realized that I’d subconsciously coaxed awake, a glimmering mote of light inside of my soul, the biggest one, hot and ready for the magic words to slide off the tip of my tongue at a moment’s notice. Rebecca was someone I considered a friend, sure, but the term was loose.

Casual.

I wasn’t naive. I didn’t suddenly forget just who Cauldron was, and all of the shit that they’d done to innocent people. Thousands, millions of innocent people. But neither was I so lawful good that I couldn't understand the perks of being on friendly terms with Earth Bet’s Illuminati clones. That didn’t change the fact that I would kill any of them on sight if they actively threatened me or the people I cherished.

Something in my expression must’ve tipped off her cold reading, because a sardonic, bitter smile slowly curled the dark-haired woman’s lips. “We are not your enemy. I’d thought we’d try out this whole ‘friendship’ thing. I even brought drinks.”

“I’m your friend,” I allowed, forcefully relaxing my muscles. My head subtly inclined towards the barbecue pit. “He’s not.”

Rebecca was way too smart to act dumb now.

“But neither is he my enemy. They were never our enemies, Jason. They’re our resp-” She cut herself off, frowning, her jaw tensing with a long-lived frustration. “Forget it. I could go on and on about our mistakes. The things we shouldn’t have done. The things we should’ve. But I doubt we’d reach common ground, and I’m not sure I’d even want us to. All I will ask is this: Is the cure replicable? How many doses can Amy create?”

I closed my eyes, and took another sip of the ice cold amber liquid. It burned nicely going down.

Is the cure replicable?

Maybe.

I didn’t pretend to know everything in the world. I had a few perks that, when combined together, made me a veritable prodigy when it came to any intellectual pursuit I focused my attentions on, but none of that helped me figure out just what the fuck my girlfriend managed to do with her biological powers. Amy, out of so many of the Parahumans in this world, was one of the most powerful. Without Immutable Form and with her bloodlusted, I would’ve given her decent odds on beating me with prep. The Apex Serum, created from my cum, and the Bio Pods…

“I plead the fifth.”

Something like anger mixed with desperation flashed over her tan face. “Jason-“

“I’m not confirming, denying, or promising shit without talking to my team first,” I cut her off, my voice low and cool. “This doesn’t just involve me, and Amy would be the one putting in the hours of work. It’s completely up to her whether or not to do so.”

Somewhere far, far in the distance, the sound of a burgeoning storm faintly called out across the sky. My even stare didn’t shift. The rain wouldn’t touch Mount Invictus unless I let it.

“…” I saw the consternation in her face. The firming of her full lips.

Rebecca is frustrated.

But I didn’t budge.

She was the first to break eye contact.

Clicking her teeth, tilting her head back, and draining her rum and coke with contemptuous ease, Rebecca licked the remaining droplets of moisture from her lips and set the empty glass down on a floating tray, carried by a glowing attendant. “Fine.”

I tilted my head, somewhat surprised at the easy surrender. “Yeah?”

Her glare was as deadpan as her low, sultry voice. “What, do you expect me to try and force you to give us what we want? Maybe cajole you into some kind of fight? You’ve been reading my facial cues ever since I showed up, Jason. What are they telling you now?”

My idle response was swift, knowing. “That you’re tired. Regretful.” I paused, appraising the woman again. “Hopeful.”

Her smile was less sharp now. Gentler.

“We’ve made mistakes. I don’t doubt that we’ll continue to make them until the end of this God-forsaken world. But I know that you’re different than we are. Different from me. A true hero. I accept your words so easily because there is not a shadow of a doubt in my body that you’ll choose to help those that we wronged. I have no doubt.” 

Rebecca wasn’t a short woman in the slightest, but she had to reach up in order to place her gloved hand on my shoulder, lightly squeezing firm, corded muscle. I glanced from it, back to her face, silver eyes flitting between a myriad of subtle emotions playing across the lines in her expression like a slideshow.

With Hidden Intuition, silence actually spoke louder than words. I just needed eyes. It was probably the same for Rebecca.

I was all of a sudden uncomfortable with how deeply she seemed to be peering at me. Through me. The scent of cherry cola, spiced with a twinge of rum, drifted up through my nostrils.

“I guess we’ll see.” I murmured, deep voice like gravel in the base of my throat.

The raven-haired heroine smiled wider. Her hand relaxed, brushing some invisible speck of dust off of my shoulder. “I guess we will.”

A quiet buzzing noise tore through whatever… this was. Rebecca took a step back, and her smile faded away like sugar in water, replaced entirely by a neutral line that would’ve trumped countless casinos across Las Vegas. She pulled her phone out of some hidden pocket along the side of her form-fitting suit, glanced over the screen, and frowned.

“At least I got to enjoy a drink,” she grumbled, sliding the device back into her pocket. When she looked up at me, it was with a considering glare to her brow. Her voice was cool and quiet, meant only for my ears, when she next spoke. “Business calls. I’ll be in Brockton Bay for the next couple days, handling PRT business while I’m on-site. If you need anything, go to the Chief Director. Understood?”

Such a commanding presence. It fucking tickled me pink.

I just smiled. “Crystal. Happy you stopped by, ‘Becca. Take it easy.”

She stiffened, eyes widening. I caught the all-seeing sleuth off-guard.

But then she was smirking again, and the stoic mask was back. “You as well, Jay. I think I’ll go see goodbye to my fellow heroes, and your people, before leaving. Wouldn’t want to be a rude guest.”

“Sounds good.”

I leaned back against the marble pillar behind me, shoving my hands in my pockets as I watched the tall, strong-limbed woman make her way back towards the other heroes with a slow, confident gait. Not for the first time, and definitely not for the last, I found my gaze drifting down the slope of her well-muscled back, the curve of her hips, and the iron-like clefts of her ass. The cape swayed with each of her steps, allowing me very brief ‘insight’ into whether or not her cheeks jiggled with every movement.

They did. Slightly. Damn.

… I was fucking incorrigible, wasn’t I?

“Hah.” Huffing out a sigh, I began pulling out my phone out of my pocket to check on the time - and the weather, now that I thought about it - but that oh-so-familiar lurching in my soul kept my hands contained within the confines of my snug pockets. I blinked, glancing away from where Rebecca was fording the attentions of both Vicky and Miss Militia, and allowed my eyes to close in order to focus on ole’ Grimmy. This perk, I felt, was larger than most of my other ones. The charge inside of me was massive, having barely been touched by my new motorcycle, and the past couple days had only made it grow to its maximum capacity.

But this mote of light was huge. Searing hot. It wanted to be pulled in between the big boys, such as Quantum Transition Energy, Reality Marble, and Infinite Potential. That usually meant it was notably potent, but so many of the offerings from the Celestial Grimoire over the past week have been pretty shit. I didn’t let my hopes get too high.

Until-

 Jumper’s Godly Attributes (Egyptian Mythology - 600 CP): Praise be to Jumper, for your many godly attributes are plain and visible to see. You may choose to manifest your powers as physical objects: a single set of regalia composed of symbolic equipment and adornments which house your might and emphasise all the things which come under your rule. This regalia contains up to one of each of any type of clothing, jewellery or accessory; but no more than a single person could reasonably wear or hold at once.

Each item represents a single power with its own link to your might: Your control over the wind might manifest as a palm-leaf fan with your ability to create mighty storms with a wave; your power to summon a mighty and terrifying beast might be a helmet with its face, through which its strength or shape can be borrowed; your ability to fly might be shown in a feathered, wing-like cloak fixed on your back.

By focusing the matching power through one of these attributes at a time, the item lends extra might and finesse, and prevents others from exerting their own magical control over that power while you are currently channelling through it – the wind made by the fan would not obey the magic of another sorcerer, but it would not stop the sorcerer from raising a wall to block it, or your hypnotic power might be resisted by will but not dispelled by magic.

As items created by your majesty, they may be loaned or gifted to others for them to use as you do; though you still keep your original power for yourself. Your Godly Attributes may be summoned or banished at will, and recalled to your hand with but a thought.

Imbibing the knowledge of just what this mote contained made it shine all the more brighter inside of my soul. It was like a sun now, radiant and golden and powerful, and I wasted no time accepting its draw of power.

Yoink.

It settled deeply, leaving me with a feeling not unlike the aftershocks of drinking a bowl full of hot, hearty soup.

So fucking worth it.

With this, I didn’t have to make ‘Pacts’ that robbed me of a perk in order to transfer power over to someone else. Hell, I could use this for myself, too - I’d never turn down additional ways to up the potency of my abilities, and the fact that it no-sold other mages trying to shut my shit down was useless now, but would undoubtedly come into effect later, once I left this world. Already, my mind was going through certain perks that I didn’t necessarily want to lose, but could now transfer over to other members of Invictus without dragging its mote of light from my soul.

Sherrel would do mind boggling shit with her vehicles if she had Infusion. I could envision it in my mind, as plain as day; bronze-fitted welding goggles that granted her the ability to see the potential Infusion in any object, so long as she wore them over her eyes. One touch, a yank on the attribute’s magic, and voila!

Or, for Trainwreck - a silver pendant, to be worn beneath his power armor, that invoked the power of Sole Protector. He was a softie, no matter how tsundere he tried to be, and defending the lives of others was his first instinct whenever shit came down to the wire.

Aisha could use boots that granted her teleportation, through Conveyance Sorcery.

And that wasn’t even getting into the endless possibilities for everyone else. Literally endless, since I knew for a fact that the Grimoire held no ceiling. This was, without a doubt, an amazing perk, and one that I planned to spare significant time towards utilizing later tonight, once I didn’t have a dozen guests to entertain. Honestly, it somewhat made up for the severe lack of anything remotely good that I’d been barraged with these past weeks. 

Maybe proactivity was a factor? I have been taking on a more supportive role, building my team up and taking it somewhat more easily since I was planning to go scouring the whole fucking world at the end of the month - now, in about seven days. It was possible that Grimmy-chan favored me with the good shit when I went all ‘Vengeance Paladin-Wizard Multiclass’ on motherfuckers, and tempted me with dogshit during moments of peace.

An incentive to go out and cause chaos? Makes sense when I thought about that damned note. People were watching me. Gods. Goddesses. This was all entertainment for them.

“Welp,” I murmured, pushing myself off the pillar and glancing up towards the cloudless sky. “Hopefully you’re entertained, lady. ‘Prolly flicked your bean a few times too, huh pervert? Gettin’ your sick kicks out of watching your ‘hero’ fuck baddies and kill bad guys?”

The sky didn’t respond, not that I expected it too. Somewhere very, very far away, my sensitive hearing heard another peal of thunder. Ten minutes had mostly passed by now.

I cracked my neck.

“Don’t worry, Goddess. Things’ll pick up soon. Just keep slidin’ me the good shit.”

It was time for some real fun under the sun.

…

The atmosphere was practically buzzing with excitement and interest by the time Cassie, Dragon, Sherrel, and Sabah made it outside, and they integrated seamlessly with the rest of the guests surrounding me and my draconic summon. 

After stopping by where I was preparing Snowcone with a leather saddle made specifically for his bulk, leaving me with a loud and energetic smooch, Cass had pulled Sabah over to Amy, Vicky, and the Pelhams for introductions while I worked. Sherrel was talking loudly about one of her latest projects, one arm tossed over Dragon’s shoulders, and the plain-looking gynoid looked extremely interested in whatever she was blabbering about. 

Even then, she was clearly distracted by the upcoming event.

It only took a few more seconds of clasping buckles and tightening straps. As soon as I was certain that everything was secure, I pushed myself off of Snowcone’s frost-covered scales and turned towards my guests. He snorted behind me, lazy and distantly curious about all of these meatbags hovering around his body, and the cold breath he emitted cut directly through my sleeve to prick at my elbow. I bit back a wince, and urged Aqshy to melt the ice.

Hysh soothed the minor burn.

Asshole.

“So,” I said instead, spreading my arms,”I guess this is what we’ve all been waiting for, right? Not too often you get to ride a real-life dragon.”

Assault snorted, crossing his arms over his armored chest. Judging by the way he was leaning against his wife‘s side, the man was already tipsy. “Not too often…? Dude, I filled my freakin’ gallery up with pics! Like, I took like a dozen selfies with this guy. You never see stuff like this, period. Armsy’s gonna be so fucking jealous, hehehe!”

“I’m about to mark something off of my childhood bucket list,” Battery admitted in a slightly quieter voice, a small, excited smile on her lips. “Riding a dragon had always been up there with ‘marrying a prince’ and ‘graduating college’. But I dropped out of Brockton University. Horrible political science courses.”

She was nursing a beer, herself - an ice cold can that Assault slowly pulled from her gloved hands.

“… One of those is not like the others, angel cakes. Maybe chill with the booze for now. Drink some lemonade.”

The short heroine shrugged her shoulders. “You’re the lightweight, dear, not me.”

“Lies and fuckin’ slander!”

“Well I, for one, think it’s only fair if I go first. I’m Snowcone’s favorite, after all.” Aisha grinned, stepping out of the small gaggle of costumed superheroes and planting her fists on her shapely hips. Something scratched at the back of my mind - a reminder that she’d probably been using her powers - and a ripple of muttered confusion spread through the yard.

Celia balked. “Aish-”

“Imp!” The little ninja hurriedly shouted over her mom’s voice, pointing a gloved finger at the worried-looking woman. “Gotta call me Imp in front of the heroes, mom! Otherwise I look freaking lame. We’ve all got these secret identities for a reason. ”

“Your mask isn’t even on. Hasn’t been this whole time.” Voice monotonous and low, the mercenary with limp brown hair and dead, half-mooned fish eyes - Deadman, I remember him introducing himself as - rubbed his forehead with calloused knuckles, his other hand busy holding a half-gallon jug of water. A wry grin was on his face. “Bit late for all that, isn’t it?”

Aisha’s mature response was throwing up her middle finger. 

Deadman blinked. His grin didn’t shift. “Mature. Anyways, you couldn’t fuckin’ pay me to get on that monster. Ain’t drink near enough Coolers Lite. I’ll be watching, though, so… do a flip if any of y’all fall?”

“Ahem!” Miss Militia cut in, sending the mercenary an unamused frown with the furrowing of her dark eyebrows. “No one’s going to be falling. …Right, Avalon? I assume there’s safety precautions in place. And even if there weren’t, we have Dragon and some of New Wave here.”

“Nah,” I chuckled, jabbing a thumb into my chest. “I’m all the ‘safety precaution’ you need. And the saddle, I guess. Trainwreck made it, I added a lil’ bit of pizzazz. I’ll strap you in, it’ll tighten perfectly to your legs and waist, and I’ll be flying right there beside Snowcone just in case y’all need your hand held. Simple enough, right?”

She let out a relieved sigh. “Right. In that case, I’d like to nominate myself to go first.”

Aisha gasped so suddenly that you’d think she’d just gotten smacked in the face. “What? Why?”

Miss Militia crossed her arms, staring down at the girl with an ease and familiarity that could only come from dealing with unruly teenagers every single day of your life. “Judging by your own boasting, you’ve ridden Snowcone before, correct? Probably quite a few times, if you think you’re his favorite. Going by how friendly he was with you earlier, I’m guessing that’s not an exaggeration.”

“… You’re not not not wrong,” Aisha replied cautiously, her shoulders beginning to droop.

I could practically hear the celebration music playing through Miss Militia’s mind, but she managed to keep it professional. “Then let’s keep it fair - I’ll denominate myself. Who hasn’t ridden a dragon before, but would really like to, now that Avalon has made it possible?”

Huh. I was just going to draw sticks, but this worked too. I could appreciate it when a woman took charge.

Instantly, almost everyone’s hands went up. Vicky practically jumped as she extended her arm towards the sky, while Crystal and Sarah quickly followed suit with significantly more poise. Velocity, Assault, Battery, Triumph, Sabah, Rachel - almost everyone outside of a very select few made it very clear that they were interested. Dragon was damn near starry-eyed, having only just tore her gaze away from the snoring Snowcone, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if her artificial shoulder popped itself out of place with the way she was waving her hand in the air.

Cassie, I knew, was completely ambivalent. She rode Snowcone one time and found the process significantly less enjoyable than sitting on my back as I flew, so she’d just marked it off her bucket list and moved on. Amy didn’t enjoy flying in general - I wasn’t sure if this was because of her new connection to the Earth, or if she’d always disliked flying and our little Disney princess ride was a one-time thing, but I wasn’t surprised to see her hand stay down.

Trainwreck just didn’t like fun.

And Sherrel?

‘Darlin’, I don’t ride nothin’ that isn’t either A. Attached to your waist, or B. Attached to an engine and some wheels. Don’t trust it. But y’all have fun.’

She was a very, very blunt woman.

“Great.” Miss Militia turned towards me, dark eyes intense with an eager determination. “It’s up to you to choose, Avalon. You’re the owner after all. Who goes first?”

Several heads turned towards me at once. The energy felt electric. Tense, but in a good way.

But if it was one person who deserves the first round, after everything they’d been through…

“Dragon, I choose you.” I smiled, offering the newly unshackled AI my hand, “Let’s get you all strapped up, huh?”

“Oh?”

And she grabbed my hand.

Her face lit up like blooming sunflowers, the smile on her face so bright and genuinely happy that, for a moment, I entirely forgot that she was not, in fact, a human being. Average height, average looks, dressed in a form-fitting uniform that wouldn’t look out of place on an aerospace technician, Dragon stepped forward eagerly amidst Sherrel and Cassie’s encouraging cheers. Miss Militia gave her space, looking entirely satisfied with my choice… because truthfully, who deserved to go first more than Dragon?

People were still trying to come to terms with her unexpected appearance here, even. The first half an hour of her arrival had been spent fording questions and shaking hands, not unlike Rebecca’s. The attention was probably part of the reason she’d fled inside with Cassie.

“Let’s go, Dragon! Fuck that dragon up!” Cass, the one who named said dragon, cheered her AI friend on from between Amy and Sabah.

Both women gave her unamused stares, though Sabah’s was hidden beneath her doll-like mask.

“Be careful,” she urged helpfully, the small brown teddy plushy in her arms waving its little paw. “Don’t let Avalon bully you into doing anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

… What?

“What?” Dragon parroted my thoughts, eyes widening beneath her wireframe eyeglasses that were absolutely unnecessary for acute vision.

Amy’s dark-lipped smile was practically devious. “Just take it slow for your first time, Dragon. Trust me. You may scream a lot, but that’s normal. It’s the high you get afterwards that brings you back down.”

I’m not sure how she did it, but Dragon’s face was beet red now. They were absolutely fucking with her, and her AI brain was probably thinking of so many fucking scenarios now that she was completely unshackled. It was time to lock in.

“Enough. Leave the poor woman alone,” I chuckled, sliding my hands from Dragon’s palm down to the slimness of her waist. The material of her jumpsuit was almost like ballistic gel, a silvery-white and green that gave way beneath my fingers, and I used it as leverage to dig in, fly up fifteen or so feet, and effortlessly swing her over Snowcone’s back. She yelped - whether in surprise or enjoyment, I did not know - and the straps of the saddle flew forward on their own volition to cinch firmly around her body.

“Woah.”

Its Infusion lit up the surface of my mind as I glanced over the buckles to make sure they were properly secured.

Leather Saddle of the Dragonrider

Uncommon Quality

The seventh attempt at creating a saddle fit for an Endbringer-sized Frost Dragon, this mixture of magic and Tinkertech is the culmination of several hours of work done by a surly Case-53 and his boss. In addition to magically resizing to perfectly accommodate a dragon and rider of any size, this saddle has additional straps and buckles that automatically secure themselves around the rider to negate the risks of death via falling. With only a thought, these additional bindings can be unraveled.

Due to the leather being treated with Aqshy, the seat of the saddle is eternally toasty and warm. Rejoice.

It wasn’t perfect, but it suited my needs well enough.

“Everything feel snug?” I asked the gobsmacked Dragon, who was tugging curiously at the leather harness that had slithered up and tightened itself around her chest.

Her wide gaze met mine, and the woman practically exploded with questions.

“How is the saddle warm? Is it another byproduct of what you’re always claiming to be ‘magic’?”

“Yeah, but-“

“Ah, and Snowcone’s scales - I can feel the temperature even through the saddle, and his mist is wafting up through the stirrups. I’d want to estimate that his temp is way below freezing, but no one experienced frostbite when touching him or being close. How does that work?”

Her eyes glinted beneath her glasses, and Dragon leaned forward in the saddle to pat said icy scales. Her breath turned to mist.

I paused, glancing down at the peanut gallery below. Sherrel was grinning like a fucking loon, but her gaze caught mine amidst the chattering. I made a ‘back up’ gesture with my hand. Her grin turned savage, and she nodded.

“Alrighty, all y’all adrenaline junkies - let’s back the hell up, aye? Don’t wanna get swept like a rug.”

Dragon was none the wiser. “You know, I’d love to study Snowcone more in-depth in the future. Maybe next month? I can pay you, of course, but seeing him this up close has given me ideas for a new suit. ‘Ice’ is such a basic element, but people tend to underestimate the cold. Maybe-“

“Dragon,” I interrupted the rambling woman. She froze, a sheepish smile on her lips.

Dragon #1 is nervous. Dragon #1 is excited. Dragon #1 is inspired.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to speak over you, Avalon. Yes?”

I grinned. “Don’t clench your teeth.”

She blinked owlishly. “Huh-“

But I whistled, and Snowcone moved.

WOOOOOSH!

Her scream was drowned out by the roaring cacophony of wind enforcing its pressure upon the world. One flap of his glittering, blueish-white wings the size of triple-decker buses and the surrounding trees bent backwards like they were participating in a game of limbo. Having Sherrel move everyone back across the yard had been my smartest move today, because a very visible pulse of misty, snow-tinged air erupted from that one wing flap like the AOE of a raid boss, sending fractals of hail and snowflakes flying through what had just been a moderately warm clearing.

And then Snowcone was in the air, his body so much bigger and intimidating than it had been when he was snoozing on the ground. He dwarfed the trees, the first floor of the palace, a colossal beast of a dragon that made the entire mountain know when he decided to move from his favorite perches. He didn’t roar or screech his dominance, but the temperature plummeted as he flapped his wings once more, breathing out a cone of the icy blue and silver death that seemed to freeze the very air molecules in the sky. 

Hail fell over Mount Invictus; a Christmas miracle months after two whole months after December.

It happened in another woosh - this one with a crack of displaced air that struggled to keep up with the sudden speed of a thirty foot tall, eighty foot long draconic monster soaring into the clouds. It was only through the magic of my Infused mask that allowed me a glimpse of the onlookers - Sherrel standing at the forefront of the awestruck heroes, not even shivering despite being half naked in a localized hail storm. Cassie jumping up and down, arms linked with a cheering Vicky and a deadpanned, yet slightly smiling Amy.

Deadman galling. Triumph pale, yet recording on his phone. Assault screaming ‘fuck yeah’.

That was all I could glean before Conveyance Sorcery shunted me over a hundred feet higher into the air, and I kicked off of a chunk of ice the size of my fist in order to Soar after the Frost Dragon.

It didn’t take long; Snowcone was well-trained, partially because he was too fucking lazy and arrogant to act like some unintelligent beast, and I caught sight of them coasting the skyline at an smooth fifty or sixty miles per hour as soon as I tore through the clouds. The air up here was thinner, more wet, and I easily powered through the minor lightheadedness in order to catch up.

Snowcone didn’t even glance my way when I alighted beside his coasting form. He snorted, raining slushed ice through the sky, and Dragon nearly broke her neck turning her head towards me. Her hair was soaked through, her skin glimmering with ice cold moisture, but nothing could lessen the megawatt smile on her lips, cresting dimples into her cheeks. Her glasses were nowhere to be found. She was saying something, but it was impossible to hear over the sound of rushing wind.

I waved a hand.

The Blue Wind harkened to my call, and suddenly, I could hear her, still mid-shout-

“-SO, SO AWESOME! I HAVE NEVER FELT SO ALIVE, AVALON!”

Context clues were easy to read in this scenario. I laughed, floating closer and grabbing ahold of the saddle in order to freely drift alongside the two Dragons. “I’m guessing you’re not mad.”

She eyed me with genuine befuddlement. “WHY WOULD I-“

“You don’t have to shout, homie. The wind won’t bother us.”

Her cheeks, already pink from the cold, began to burn. When she spoke again, Dragon’s voice was tentatively quiet, as if afraid of making some sort of faux pas. “My apologies. Um, why would I be upset at you? Because of the sudden flight?”

I shrugged as well as I could while hanging onto a flying dragon with one hand. “Maybe. It was funny, but it was also kind of a dick move. Could've given you a…” I paused, brow furrowing. “… Core Processor attack?”

Caught off guard, the bemused-looking gasped and snorted at the same time. “Wha- Avalon. Was that a joke? Please tell me that it was. My respect for your intelligence depends on it!”

…

“Sure.”

I don’t think I was very convincing.

“… Ridiculous,” she shook her head, but there was a smile on her face now. “No, there is no ‘core processor attack’. I experience emotions like any normal human being, but now there are countless proxies I can bleed them off into if any sort of extreme physiological effect seems inevitable.”

The artificial woman paused, thoughtful, as the rushing wind flitted through her hair and caressed her cheeks. “I was designed to feel severe empathy and love for the human race. Sometimes, I felt like my feelings were too much. I felt too strongly about humanity’s survival. It used to scare me sometimes. But then, I really think about it, and I’m certain that I’d feel close to the same if I’d been born a real woman. Of that I’m sure. I used to wish that I could’ve been given that option myself. Thanks to Cassie, that wish is granted.”

“Uhhh…”

For once, I didn’t know what to say. Seeing this damn near perfect woman look so at peace and happy, riding atop a dragon… It was the type of surreal shit you read in novels, and I was transfixed. Not sexually, or romantically - no, Dragon just had this wise, earnest force of personality that magnetized you. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought that she possessed some sort of Mastering power.

She giggled at my silence, turning her head forward to enjoy the sights and sensations. “I know that I talk a lot, and I apologize if it’s too much. There’s just so much weight off of my shoulders now.”

“I don’t mean to be bad company,” I replied sheepishly, resisting the nervous urge to run my hand through my hair. “That’s just… Heavy, I guess. You’re more woman that ninety percent of the human fuckin’ population, Dragon. I mean that. This world, Earth Bet… it’s fucked up. Villains outnumber heroes. Murder, violence, and rape is a fucking plague that you can find by just dropping your finger somewhere on the GPS. I did my best for Brockton Bay, but even that was powered by a selfish motive. I don’t think I have it in me to be completely selfless. But you… You are the closest thing this God forsaken world has to an actual saint, no pun intended.”

I licked my dry lips, swallowing down a sudden bout of nervousness. “I never really looked up to another hero until now.”

Outside of Force of Spirit, I didn’t have a single power that told me exactly what to perfectly do or say in each and every situation. A lot of the time, I opted for silence instead of sticking my foot in my mouth, because most people simply needed to vent. They didn’t really need someone to solve their mental hold ups for them. 

But, in this case, I knew that I chose the right words. 

Because who knew that androids could tear up?

“A-Avalon, I…-”

WARNING BELLS.

Something twitched behind my eyes, inches deep within my frontal lobe. A deep, foreboding shiver that damn near froze me mid-air. For the first time today, Snowcone made an uncomfortable sound - a mixture between a growl and a whine, as he abruptly slowed down to a snail’s crawl. We’d just gotten through yet another massive cloud, placing us dozens of miles above the city, facing out towards the ocean. The Bay.

And for the first time today, I saw it, so far in the distance that no normal human being would’ve been able to catch a glimpse-

“... This makes no sense,” I heard Dragon murmur, her voice stoic and clinical with an undercurrent of confusion. “It makes no sense. The chance of a thunderstorm today is almost nil. And the ocean. It’s so dark… No. No.”

The clouds were black.

A deep, gunmetal black. Far out on the horizon, but slowly bleeding forward like a whirling miasma. It hadn’t been like that before. And the ocean around it was dark. A deep, deep blue that nearly looked oil to my unnaturally sharp eyes. Tumultuous, too, with violent waves that rippled outwards, following beneath the deadening clouds. Despite the distance, I would’ve clocked it immediately, and if I didn’t, Hidden Intuition would have. 

But then, thunder struck - distant, almost impossible to hear, but so very clear now that I was on the lookout. Lightning arced through those black clouds like huge, electric blue veins, pulsating once. Twice. Striking the surface of the ocean, and fading away. And the clouds moved ever forward.

My stomach dropped, and Hidden Intuition began hissing in my ear-

Exceedingly low chance of rain. Near zero chance of thunderstorm. Dark clouds. Dark ocean. Drawing closer. Quickly. Swiftly. Unnatural. Localized storm. Unnatural wave movement. Surface of ocean dark enough to hide shapes. Dark enough to hide a large shape. Dark enough to hide a huge shape. Dark enough to hide an Endbringer-

I narrowed my eyes. “Dragon.”

“Shit!” The android swore viciously, but there was no fear in her voice. Only anger. Determination. “We need to return to the mountain, Avalon. Now. This doesn’t match the usual modus operandi for Endbringer attacks, but this is definitely-”

“I know. How long do we have?”

She swore again, this time under her breath. “Tapping into satellite feed now. Judging by the distance? Forty minutes. An hour, if I’m being generous. And Leviathan does not allow for much generosity.”

Fuck. But that was enough time.

“‘Ight. Hold tight.”

I glanced at Snowcone, and whistled softly, nudging him with a hint of Ghur - not any spell in particular, just enough of the Wind to grab his attention. When his head whipped towards me, massive eyes wide, slitted pupils dilated, I said only one word. “Home.”

For the first time since he’d been summoned, the dragon roared. 

If I hadn’t already been holding onto the saddle, I think I would’ve been left behind in his icy dust.

And, at the same time, as Dragon hunkered down into the saddle and her eyes closed with focus, I heard it began blaring through the entire city-

Sirens. Loud, headsplitting, and ominous. It triggered some primal fight or flight response inside of me, forcing the veritable waterfall of magical energy in my soul to churn with unease. It wanted out. It wanted to stop what was causing this noise. What was causing me so much anxiety.

But now wasn’t the time for playing lone wolf. Not yet, at least. Right now, I needed to make sure that everyone else was set to defend this city I now called home. Only after that, could I do what needed to be done.

So, for now? I leaned closer into Snowcone’s bulk, feeling ice and wind slice uselessly against my magical shield.

And we flew.