Kirunax
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Dysfunctional (Chapter 5)
🕑 Added 2025-03-06 17:48:03 +0000 UTC“You really should read this, brother.”
As we flew to our destination, I was reading through Ward’s handbook.
Engagement protocols, chain of command, procedures. These are all important things to know for our new occupation.
Ideally, I would have preferred to avoid joining the Wards altogether, but now that we were drafted, it was important to put our best foot forward.
Perhaps it was naïve of me to think I could avoid being put in this situation forever, as though Being X would place me in a world where this was at all possible. In my previous life, the signs of impending draft were all there, but here I wasn’t identified as a military asset through mandatory testing at an early age. Thus, I concluded that as long as I kept my magic secret, I would be fine.
What I didn’t take into account is that Shirou would turn out to be a parahuman himself. Statistically, it was unlikely. Even though parahuman powers sometimes run in the family, there was no indication that our mother or grandmother were parahumans. I myself wasn’t. But Shirou’s father apparently was a high-ranking member of the Protectorate.
That fact turned this whole situation into something of an opportunity. Being drafted as the lowest rank? Someone valuable but ultimately expendable? Dangerous.
Joining as family members of a member of high command? Why, this was an entirely different story.
I would never approve of nepotism, but I was also a realist. And if it was working in my favor this time, I’ll give it a pass.
In response to my sensible advice, Shirou chose to grunt like a caveman. He didn’t even open his eyes.
I sighed. He really wasn’t happy about being drafted.
But that was the thing, we were being drafted. Legend made that abundantly clear when he openly disclosed the identity of the Protectorate ENE leader to our faces.
There was no way they would let us go after that, no matter the reason. The laws protecting the secret identities of parahumans were draconian. To an unreasonable degree, actually. To the point, that being arrested as a criminal was no grounds to have your identity revealed even to the government. Unless the crimes were so egregious that the criminal in question was sent to the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center. At which point having a secret identity was pointless anyway.
What Shirou didn’t understand is that now that we were in this situation, we have to prove ourselves valuable. Valuable assets aren’t used as a cannon fodder against kaiju. His father’s position should shield us but only to a degree.
I would almost be annoyed with him but…
“But the paperwork was fine,” Shirou said. “Receipts, bank declarations, income tax…”
I still felt ashamed. I should had made sure that nothing of this nature was happening. I should had asked him to let me double check everything.
Of course, a 13-years old would be so easily duped by a corrupt bureaucrat! He was a child! After all the hard work he put into providing for the household, the least I could’ve done was to help in matters I had expertise!
I closed my eyes.
I’d become lax away from the frontlines, enjoying uninterrupted sleep at reasonable hours, good food, and relaxing days of studying at school. All my needs being taken care of. No pressure, no fighting, no unreasonable authorities.
Not anymore. No more allowing him to do everything by himself. No more leeching from a child. No more of this incompetence!
From this point onward, I will act like the responsible adult I am.
Which means I will have to make sure he does not give PRT reasons to think they can throw him into disaster zone.
But for now, I will give him some time to unwind. He held himself admirably through his first combat, followed by a period of incarceration and interrogations, but I could see he was still on edge, with tense posture, furrowed brows, clenched teeth.
There will be time to bring him up to speed. Better he gets some rest while I study and tutor him later. On PRT regulations and US Tax Law, as well as financial literacy in general. No more dumbing down financial reports and budget plans for him.
Instead, I addressed our pilot “Thank you again for going through the trouble of providing a transport for us, Dragon.”
Their vehicle speaker systems came to life with the woman’s voice “It’s quite alright, Tanya,” there was a smile in her voice “You are welcome.”
Initially we were supposed to wait until Brockton Bay office send and escort for us, but Dragon was already in the area. She volunteered to ship us to our destination, and so now we were having out first flight in futuristic tinkertech flight craft.
“Colin is a close friend and this is the least I could do to help his family.”
Would you look at that. Ties to a high-ranking member of the organization are already providing perks!
“Could you tell us about Mr Wallis? I can only imagine that this is all very sudden for him.”
“…Yes. You could definitely say that. I don’t think he ever expected to have children, considering that all his time goes into his work.”
So, a hard-working careerist. Not surprising given his rank. A good role model for Shirou, who himself expressed interest in positions of leadership.
“Had he expressed any particular concerns?” It would be better to address those as quickly as possible.
Dragon hesitated for a moment “I haven’t spoken with him since the start of Adepts investigation. I am sure that there is a lot on his mind, but if he decided to take you in, then he’s prepared to address any problem. Colin rarely acts without a plan or extensive preparations.”
“Should we know anything in particular? I wouldn’t want to create any additional troubles for him.”
“He… is a very direct person. Just plainly state what you want from him and don’t take it personally if isn’t one for small talk. He takes his duties seriously, but I think he will need time to properly adjust to fatherhood.”
Hm. I could work with that.
“Sounds like someone who isn’t well suited to be a father.” My brother decided to share his opinion.
“SHIROU!” What was he doing?! “I’m sorry, Dragon. He is still recovering from…”
“It’s alright, Tanya,” her kind voice interrupted from the speakers. “You both have been through a lot.”
“Shirou, I understand you are angry with Colin,” Dragon addressed my brother. “You had to take care of yourself and your sister for so long. You did a great job, and you should be proud. But now you’ve found out there was someone out there who should have been a father for you all this time. What you feel is natural. But please give Colin a chance. I promise, he won’t disappoint you.”
My brother’s expression told me he wasn’t convinced so when Shirou opened his mouth to reply I kicked him in the shin, my face promising murder.
He huffed and kept quiet. I hoped this was enough.
It was at moments like this I was reminded that he was still a child. A responsible, intelligent and hard-working child. Yet child nonetheless. Emotional maturity and ability to keep control of his temper was something he was still growing into. Something for me to help him with, perhaps.
The rest of the flight was spent in silence.
When our ride touched down on a helipad, we were met by a woman wearing some form of stylized military fatigues and a bandana in the colors of US flag.
“Shirou, Tanya, welcome to Protectorate HQ,” the woman smiled at us with her eyes. “I am Miss Militia. If you would follow me, I will accompany you to power testing facility, and then we will travel to PRT HQ for introduction to Wards.”
“Armsmaster isn’t here?” Dragon’s voice came from the flightcraft.
“He’s busy receiving a shipment of new lab materials,” Miss Militia stated neutrally, “Director ordered me to guide the children though orientation.”
“I see…” Dragon sounded upset.
“Thank you for giving them a ride, Dragon,” Miss Militia nodded to her fellow hero and turned to us, “Please, put these on and come along,” she handed us white domino masks.
Something of a fig leaf and woefully insufficient in my opinion, but oh well.
As we followed her through the HQ I took my chance to look around. Repurposed oil rig was surrounded by a transparent forcefield, shining with iridescent lights in the sun. In the distance I could see the same kind of forcefield forming a bridge between the rig and the city. I wandered about power requirements for this kind of set up. Assuming this forcefield wasn’t just for show and actually served a defense function they must be burning through a lot of money every single day to power it. Well, that or tinkertech was doing something weird to conserve the energy. It was after all notorious for baffling conventional scientific community with strange and impossible feats.
I could also spot missile turrets in various placements. Which in itself could only be a good thing in my opinion – a well defended command center was paramount for military operations of any kind – but who exactly they were supposed to be used against?
The HQ was in the middle of the bay with only a forcefield bridge as an access point. Any kind of tactical assault would have to be conducted on ships, boats or from the air. From that perspective the defensive array in front of me should be sufficient to repent a very impressive invading force.
Which begged the question who could mount an assault that required such impressive defenses. Surely not the gangs? I would assume it’s supposed to be used against Endbringers but from what I learned from my research, Behemoth could tank nukes and Simurgh was able to co-opt tinkertech and turn it against the defenders. As for Leviathan… the HQ was right in the middle of the bay. Unless it was supposed to be used as bait, I wouldn’t even call this place a good breakwater.
I was really hoping it there was an explanation other than “yes, local criminal elements are THAT powerful”.
The insides of the HQ were… futuristic but I got the sense that it was more in terms of general aesthetics rather than space age technology level it tried to portray itself as. The Protectorate HQ as a whole was beautiful, but in my opinion the outsides were much more impressive than insides.
Although the lifts were indeed impressive.
As we arrived at the power testing facility, we were met by a gaggle of people in lab coats. Scientists. I carefully observed them, but none seemed particularly deranged at a first glance.
“This is Dr Millers. He will be in charge of you testing,” Miss Militia introduced to us one the men. A dark-skinned male in his forties, whose appearance thankfully did not evoke any unpleasant associations with a certain other scientist I was regretfully acquainted with.
“Hello, kids,” middle aged man smiled at us, “Glad to have you. Let’s start with a simple conversation. What can you tell us about your powers? I have the report from New York office, but I want to hear it from you.”
I was prepared for this conversation.
“I have the ability of manifesting an extremely sharp blade and protective shell. I can also enhance by physical abilities via increasing my reaction time and strength,” I started with confidence.
This alone should establish me as an effective combatant in their eyes.
“Furthermore, I can create a variety of effects such as heat beams, explosive blasts with a yield of up to 150 kilograms of gunpowder, as well as large scale napalm bombardments.”
Everyone was looking at me in silence.
Hm, I am not done yet.
“Besides that, I also have the ability to fly at supersonic speeds with an altitude of 6000 feet. It isn’t a hard limit, mind you, but I still need to breeze. Although, I can also generate oxygen if need arises.”
Still silence. I suppose it isn’t as impressive as what Legend was capable of but no reaction at all?
“I am also fairly competent as a field medic. Although my ability to heal does not exceed simple wounds.”
Why are you still silent?! Is it not enough?!
“I can also deploy optical decoys.” I added, less sure of myself now. “The offensive effects I stated earlier can also be used in conjunction with firearms, giving them longer reach. In fact, it is preferable to use them that way.”
“And… can you demonstrate all that here?” Dr Millers had finally asked.
Damn it, here goes the bad part of my resume.
“I am absolutely confident that I can,” my voice was carefully measured. ”However, anything more complicated than reflex enhancements would require additional hardware.”
“What kind of hardware?” Miss Militia asked. She looked rather concerned.
“The use of my powers requires me to do a large amount of calculations. Some, I can do on the fly. More complicated effects necessitate the use of a computation device.”
“What kind of computation device?” Dr Millers inquired with rapt interest.
“A pocket calculator would suffice,” I answered.
“You have to use a calculator to be able to use your power in combat?” he seemed surprised. “This is the first time I hear about this kind of power limitations.”
“I don’t have to actually take it out of my pocket and manually type in necessary equations,” I clarified. “It is more like I channel my power through the device to make use of its microprocessor. It should be noted, that this is very damaging to the circuitry. The calculator I had on me melted only after a few uses. If possible, I would like to request a supply of calculators or, better yet, a tinkertech device that can handle the strain.”
“This is something you will have to discuss with Director,” said Dr Millers while diligently writing notes on his clipboard. “What about you Thinker power?”
“Thinker power?” I asked feeling confused.
“During your… engagement with Teeth you demonstrated unnaturally high combat skills for a 9-years old.”
Ah, that is something I didn’t think about. Of course, a child without training wouldn’t be able to fight this well. Come to think about it, Shirou was indeed much too skillful with his blades. And I didn’t mean just his swordsmanship, he was tactical in his approach. Always supporting me at exactly the right moments to close any openings and disrupt enemies’ attacks, all while not getting in a way of my own strikes. A perfect complement to my own offensive!
So this is a Thinker power, huh? Impressive. Even a child without training can become a dangerous combatant. I will have to be on the lookout for that during any engagement.
“Ah, I just did what came naturally,” I decided to let them come their own conclusions. It was better not to lie directly since I had no idea what readings they use to evaluate powers, and if any lies will come out later on.
“…Right.” Dr Millers jutted something on his clipboard. “What about you, young man?”
I turned to Shirou, who was looking at me with blank stare.
He didn’t look like he had any intention to answer Dr Miller. I send him a glare, promising hell if he didn’t drop his attitude.
He didn’t react.
I kicked him the shin.
That made him open his mouth “You really need to decide if that means ‘shut up’ or ‘start talking’, little sister.”
“It means ‘stop being obstinate and do as you are told unless you want to suffer the consequences’, brother.” I hissed at the stubborn idiot.
What was he doing? Did he not understand that he was ruining his prospects with his attitude? What image he presented for his superiors?
“How eloquent.” And he just continued giving lip!
“SHIROU!” I finally snapped.
“Fine,” he sighed. Turning to Dr Millers he finally decided to explain his powers “I make swords”.
I patiently waited for him to continue. When he pointedly did not, I decided to prod him further.
“You also created a forcefield and had glowing lines on your body.”
“Yes, that’s about it,” my brother obliged.
I took a deep breath.
He is a child. He does not understand.
“Shirou, on a battlefield it is crucial to understand your enemies’ abilities,” I started with as much patience as I had, “And it is equally important to understand the abilities of your allies. How can we be an effective fighting force if I do not know what you are capable of? I could see you doing something effective from your point of view but suicidal from mine, rush to your rescue and get us both killed!”
Francois mage covers a wounded comrade with his own body in the air. Doesn’t matter, my bullet penetrates his shell anyway. Both fall to the ground in chunks.
“Equally possible that you are overestimating your own capabilities, and I can’t tell otherwise, issuing an order you have no ability to execute!”
“It’s the Devil! Hold the line, men! Attack Formation C, engage!”
“Worst of all, your if your command considers you expendable and orders you to throw your life away to buy time for other, more useful men!”
“Unfortunately, we can’t permit that. Delay the enemy until the response team arrives.”
I was breathing hard. The room was silent once again. Brother was looking at me impassively.
“I can create bladed objects,” Shirou slowly stated. “Both of mundane and exotic variety. They do not necessarily have to be swords, but the further you go from the concept of a ‘sword’ the harder they are to create and the more fragile and hollow they become. These can depend on a variety of factors.”
Finally! An explanation!
“I can reinforce objects and my own body, increasing my strength, speed and durability. My senses too, improving my eyesight, hearing and sense of smell. I can alter the shape of objects, though it is much easier to do with my own creations.”
Good. Keep going.
“I can divine the internal structure and history of objects. This too, works best with blades. Subsequently, it allows me to copy and recreate them.”
He fell quiet. I kept waiting.
“That is all,” he finished his explanation.
“What about your combat ability?” Miss Militia carefully asked, drawing attention to herself.
Shirou turned to her, closing his eyes as he replied.
“I just do what comes naturally.”
