Darkscythe Drake
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Great Sage, Equal to Heaven and Above Brockton Ch3 Preview
🕑 Added 2024-09-22 19:53:47 +0000 UTCA visual flashed in the visor, and he wasted no time responding.
“This is Armsmaster.”
“Armsmaster, this is PRT Captain Dunlow. We’d like to report something.”
“What is it?” he replied, even as he kept tinkering with his halberd.
“We got a call from Brockton P.D. about a few Empire thugs lying on the streets. They were beaten up bad and are at Brockton General right now.”
He withheld a sigh as he glanced at lines of code on a nearby screen. Unless it was a parahuman matter, gang matters were either under police or PRT jurisdiction. If the likelihood of the gangs’ respective capes appearing was high enough, then the PRT and a couple of the Wards, the resident young superhero team, would be notified. If not, it was either Brockton P.D. or whatever PRT squad was nearby.
If the captain was directing the matter to him and not submitting it in a report…then the reason was obvious. “Parahuman?”
Despite the moment of quiet, he could hear the captain’s frown. “If the state they were left in says anything? Yes.”
If he was any less focused, Armsmaster would’ve paused. “Continue.”
“They had broken bones, and I mean all five of them. From what the doc told us, two had their ribs almost caved in. One was found across the street and with a concussion, maybe a skull fracture. We got no eyewitness reports of another gang showing up, and while a couple of the guys think this is infighting, we both know what’s likely going on here.”
The armored hero placed the halberd down and moved to the gauntlet on his left. He pulled a tiny wire clipper from a nearby drawer and reached into the open armor piece. His tone changed from clipped to calculating. “No reports? We haven’t heard of any movements from the Merchants or Oni Lee. What’s the location?”
“Downtown, southeast. We asked them how they got beat around like ragdolls, and the only one conscious enough to answer said, and I quote:” A deep inhale sounded from the comms. “Some monkey-faced chink cape pulled out a stick from nowhere and whooped their asses.”
Armsmaster pursed his lips as a low hum, akin to a growl, escaped his throat. That description was very familiar. “A monkey-faced cape?”
“That’s what he said. When we asked how he knew he was Asian, the gangbanger said, and again I quote: ‘He wore pansy-ass robes he’d seen chinks wear in those old cartoons.’”
For the first time in hours, Armsmaster paused his repairs. Rubbing his bearded chin, he contemplated everything the officer told him. “Did they say anything else? Where did the cape go or where did he come from?”
“Nope. They were too busy rolling in pain or sleeping with concussions to notice. They didn’t seem cooperative about why they were even there in the first place, but it was no stroll down the road, that’s for sure. We collected some knives, a pistol, and a few improv weapons at the site, so I’d bet my salary that it wasn’t anything good.”
He drew in a breath. Great. “I see…keep an eye out for any sighting of that cape and send any reports to the PRT. If this really is a new cape, we need to nip this in the bud, or worst case, get an idea of who we’re dealing with.” He paused, then cleared his throat. “And…thank you for the information.”
The officer went silent for a moment, then grunted. “You’re welcome.” With that, he hung up and began typing on his computer.
“So soon, and it’s barely been a day. Though it’s less dramatic than most debuts we’ve seen.”
Armsmaster nodded at the female voice’s remark, his bearded jaw chewing on air. “Maybe this one values discretion, it makes no difference. What’s important now is finding out everything we can about this new cape and who he’s aligned with.” He pulled up a map of Brockton onscreen. “First the store at the Docks, now Downtown, against two different gangs. Beats them up fast and disappears from the scene. If the Empire and ABB thugs' accounts are to be believed, then he’s male, Asian, possibly Chinese.” The second screen flashed with lists and images of reports.
“There was a recent incident - two days ago - with Lung over a brothel, Miss Militia was on the scene along with Assault, who called up Aegis and Stalker. The whole building burnt down and while the fires were stopped from spreading further, there were civilian casualties. There were no reports of any unidentified parahuman activity though.”
Armsmaster frowned. God knows why Lung decided to destroy one of his brothels; suspicion of traitors maybe? An insult? He was never one to take one lightly. Regardless, as sad as it was to say, it wouldn’t be unlikely for incidents like these to produce a trigger event. He clicked on one of the reports and enlarged it.
“There’s one thing that almost confirms that this new cape is the same one from the grocery store,” The female voice made him shake his head and refocus. “The gangsters’ descriptions of this Parahuman.”
“Yes…‘monkey-faced’.” It was one thing for racist gangsters to call someone that. When two racist gangsters on opposite sides call them the same thing?
“Case-53 scenario?”
“Likely. Compared to some capes on the database, a monkey isn’t an unlikely transformation.”
More reports popped up on the screen. “There have been some rumors that Lung is looking to bolster his ranks with Parahumans. According to what little intel we have, some ABB members were seen in San Francisco and Boston, around their respective Asian districts.”
He sat down and tapped the desk, his mental gears whirring. “And you are absolutely sure he’s not one of said new recruits? Their…initiations…” The disgust was obvious, even through the call. Not that he blamed her; he’d been to many aftermaths of those ‘initiations’. “Don’t rule out hazing by fighting other members.”
“It wouldn’t be so open and they wouldn’t call the police - or let anyone else try to.”
He nodded and typed in a command. “I’m opening a file for this new Parahuman. Everything we mentioned just now and any similar reports go there. No name yet, but I’ll assign him ratings of Brute and Mover 3. He’ll be treated as a Rogue until we figure out his affiliation or recruit him for the Protectorate. Any equipment, Dragon?”
“The Empire thug stated he pulled out a staff…from his ear,” Dragon stated.
“Noted. Adding Tinker-no, Striker 1 to the rating.”
“Are you going to inform Director Piggot?”
Armsmaster gazed hard at the screen, his expression obscured behind his helmet’s visor. “Only the absolute basics. We’ve encountered a cape of unknown alignment.”
The screen flashed and a woman wearing green armor and long brown hair appeared, appearing concerned. “Colin, if a new Parahuman is on the scene then the last thing you should do is keep this from the director. I know there have been issues-”
“This isn’t about that,” he interjected, a tad forcefully. “This is a professional matter. We don’t have enough intelligence on this cape, not even a picture. Gathering data and determining his modus operandi is the priority here. The last thing we need is to deliver vague or false information.”
