Chương 46: Breaking Kayfabe and Bones

Thana flung Violince forward while keeping hold of the stringed instrument giving the woman her powers. I ts owner sailed into a chain link fence surrounding a small sports arena. The demigoddess had time to watch her go flying, as she used the momentum of throwing the villain to spin herself around, leveling the musical artifact to intercept a lighting quick strik e from Hurtle when the speedster rushed forward aiming for a cheap shot.

T he magical violin shriek ed in protest as the superspeed punch's colli sion with enchanted wood and string s elicited a flare of arcane backlash. Hurtle stumbled backwards covering his ears as the otherworldly noise ravaged his body. He would've been quick to recover had t he Stormdaughter not already been lashing out with her targe in a backhanded swipe. The speedster's suffering found a quick end as the shield caught the side of his head and knocked him from the realm of conscious ness.

Her immediate foe thwarted, Thana's eyes found their rest on Peck Axe. The attention prompted the avian ne'er-do-well to quickly take to the skies in an attempt to flee in cowardice. Her blood stoked by combat, the woman who had once fought alongside vikors let her instincts guide her hand to foil her prey's feeble retreat. Flipping the magical stringed instrument around by its neck, the Valkirborn readied her aim in a mere instant before commanding her divine muscles to throw it in a perfect arc.

It sailed brilliantly through the air, flipping end over end like the finest of throwing axes. The flight terminated when the improvised projectile caught the villain between his shoulder blades, stunning him before he could ascend to three stories in height. The ruffian plummeted with an undignified squawk and dropped his own weapon – one which Thana guessed to be important enough to him as to warrant a spot in his villainous moniker.

It touched the ground first as its owner's fall was intercepted by a traffic light which met with his thankfully helmeted head on the way down. The particularly loud bang of metal on metal shook the air moments before the winged man crumpled to the ground in a spasming heap.

Violince crawled forward from between a set of parked cars into Thana's path once more – apparently ricocheting off the fence when she'd met it with enough force to have missed the sidewalk in her fall and sporting a mark across her face – finding her teammates defeated. Despite this, her furious eyes showed her commitment to this engagement. The villain held aloft her hand to summon the enchanted violin back to her hand, ready to begin one last clash.

Thana opted for much the same in response, gesturing for her spear to likewise return. The spear had been the opening salvo of this fight, a carefully aimed shot to throw the speedster off course. Now it was plunged in the pavement further down the road with Violince betwixt itself and its master. At Thana's command, it returned in its true form: a sliver of the crackling lightning belonging to the storm she'd taken within her centuries ago.

The fragment of power raced to oblige her, taking the direct path and uncaring that the sound-manipulating villainess was in its way. It would've crossed the distance with equal haste regardless of its form and would've gladly made the journey as it was had she not coaxed it to change beforehand. However the Stormdaughter had no desire to see stormsteel part flesh this day. Despite her mercy, the results of its travel still failed to be enjoyable for the villain.

Violince shrieked as living lightning passed through her body on the way to Thana's fingers. The Storm had obeyed her whims in more than just the method by which its fragment rejoined her hand and was as gentle as it could be, sparing the villain a more grisly fate that lightning could still offer. However, the woman's convulsions in that moment left Violince unable to catch her own weapon when it arrived to meet her with similar haste.

The collision between the ensorcelled wood and her face finally laid low the song filled villain, relieving the Stormdaughter of the need to use the half-formed spear in her fingers. With the fight concluded, she allowed the lightning to return to roost inside her before gathering the villains so they would not block traffic any longer. The trio were known to her as members of the League and ne'er-do-wells who took particular delight in tormenting the innocent on their quest for monetary gains.

The three had put the lives of several civilians in peril in the opening stages of the fight – though the Stormdaughter had quickly removed them from the helpless they threatened with practiced ease before anyone could be harmed. They were not the first of their kind today which had emerged, though most had quickly retreated from a fight the moment she'd arrived on the scene. This was despite her glamour, something she'd debated removing but had thought better of. Their pusillanimity was just for show.

In truth, she noted that most seemed to react to unheard commands, their motions arrested as though listening to something before retreating. Meanwhile those that continued to battle took careful note to avoid outright mentions of their true allegiance. To the unfamiliar observer, they appeared to be the brigands of this land rather than outsiders, targets picked for reasons seemingly as simple as the crimes that Victory City had become accustomed to. It sickened her.

Five nights back, she'd been tucked away in the Red Rum Pub enjoying a serving of the admittedly delectable stew when she'd heard Brass Tracks talking with Chrome Drone about ways to funnel civilians away from an upcoming bank robbery. Three nights back while wearing the guise of Emma, she had the opportunity to outright question Winter Wind about his weather altering devices after he'd drunk what seemed his own weight in cheap booze.

The villain had regaled her with an impressive retelling of the skulduggery he performed to ensure his plot avoided targeting any neighborhood with faulty heating systems by posing as a city inspector. His story had almost focused more on that than on the actual fight with heroes over it. Last night as she drowned her divine mind in as much drink as Footprint Fall would serve her, more than one villain had loudly griped that the League would cause undue retribution for the violence they were intent on spreading.

More than one curse had gone up about "not respecting the boundaries" – still an odd notion for the Stormdaugther to hear leave the lips of those who broke the law for a living. The villains of this city might be their own type of blackheart, but her many journeys into their underworld along with Arrestor reports she flipped through in the dark hours of the night had shown them to be softer of heart than she'd expected.

They were oddly caring and- Thana grit her teeth and tossed Violince atop the pile the demigoddess had made of her teammates on the curb nearby, refusing to let her thoughts drift further in this direction. She knew not whether they would lead her to think of her newfound kinship with Evelyn which was inevitably coupled alongside the foreboding shadow of her true identity … or if her mind would twist down the path to her father's face once more.

Worse still was the possibility that an errant thought might lead her back down the road of questioning the motives of her quarry, as had been the horrid line of introspection she'd tried to drown in drink last night. The League offered her a simple foe to face. An evil she need not worry about. She could feel the surety of her purpose as she once again faced their metaphorical and sometimes literal blades. The easy enemy to pull herself from stymieing herself in the shades of grey which had plagued her of late.

Thana could ill afford to dance in such a world. She needed the structure and rules. She might be able to bend this code to a degree to avoid punishing the wicked when she lacked the truth of their crimes. It allowed her to down drink alongside them in their moments of peace and perhaps learn their secrets in subterfuge, but she could not let it excuse them.

As an immortal being of power, she'd sat at the table of complicated rulers and generals before, even if she herself had clung to looser morality in those days. These days though, she could not allow leniency to fool her into straying into something she wasn't. Gods were unfortunately just as prone as mortals to falling to temptation. Worse, their natures might be harder to change, but were more violent in their divergence when it occurred. She knew that lesson too well.

To divest herself of these thoughts, she checked a bangle on her wrist. Mortal technology had advanced at a frightening pace these days but magic somehow could still bridge a gap, so long as she found some point to anchor to. That point had been supplied to her by a helpful lab assistant at Amberheart who had taken the time this morning before the sun had even crested the horizon to walk her through a login procedure for the so called hero-net of the tower.

Unbeknownst to the mortal, Thana had been able to weave a web with the limited sorcery she'd come to gather over the years into their systems when he'd done so. She had needed to be more subtle than usual, as Amberheart would no doubt perform arcane sweeps on the regular, and her own spellcraft would pale in comparison to true students of sorcerery. It had taken most of the morning to secretly lay her traps.

While she was less sure of the alarms she'd woven in the land of pure knowledge than those she might impart on the physical realm – she had based her spellcraft off what little she'd understood from watching Tech Wiz in Orion – the gems inlaid on the ring of iron gave a reassuring glow that told her it probably was working. Their pairs were scattered throughout the tower in physical spaces nearby the servers.

If the spells functioned as intended, her magic scouts would report back to her on the actions of the spider trickster when she reunited the paired jewels. She had her net cast and simply needed to check on it later to see what it had snared. A voice calling out to her pulled her attention as someone approached her. The man it belongd to made no show of hesitation in his stride, not from the sight of her or the pile of villains stirring to the waking world. Careless, heedless, and… familiar.

It took her a moment to place where she'd laid eyes on his face and even then it simply narrowed his identity down rather than reveal it. He was one of many she'd knocked the bluster from in a villain bar in this town. Unlike most of those, this man didn't seem to be the type to wear a cape, narrowing her mind's recollection away from the villains she'd opted to release some frustration upon under the mask of simple roughhousing.

No, her wards did not stir in the slightest at his approach, marking him as just a civilian.

"Hey! You're new here right?" he called out, his mind unable to break through the light protections Thana had woven.

"You from out of town? I wanted to know when this whole thing is gonna clear up." He flashed her a stupid grin which she ill liked.

"I am from afar," she confirmed, knowing that if he lacked the strength of will to pierce her veil, admitting to such things would not expose her true nature.

"What do you mean 'clear up?' I-""You know, when the League and the heroes are gonna stop fighting?" he shrugged.

"I know you guys like to keep these things secret, but my buddies and I had this thing to go visit Darkwater in Avalon and see the royal palace." Thana's mind went blank and she sputtered, "I- The League will stop when… it is defeated." The man blew air through his lips and harumphed, "Come on. I know you guys like sticking to the script but I promise I won't leak it. I'm willing to offer a little tip, if you know what I mean." He withdrew a few decks and waved them her way and Thana felt her anger rise.

In that moment she remembered him fully, the dullard who had sought to harass Evelyn and Selli alongside his compatriots before she'd saved him from whatever fate the villainess in disguise would've inflicted. A part of her regretted that decision now.

"There is no script," she spat.

"No play, no act." The man chuckled, "No, no, I get it. It's dangerous but like, you guys coordinate this right? You're telling me that the League spent like a month doing nothing and then attacked everywhere at once? Come on, I'm not stupid. It's like wrestling, right?" Thana's divine blood boiled in her veins. She longed to reach out her arm and smite the fool where he stood. How dare he imply the blood shed by her comrades was some petty act!

How dare he act like the heroes' sacrifices were some sport with a script! How fucking dare he reduce her losses down to a playful story! A crowd was gathering and it took all her strength to rein in her fury. To bring herself to heel. She felt the oathbond that she'd made pulling on her, the invisible shackles of her own making to a man she couldn't trust being the one lifeline holding her back. She squeezed her eyes closed, took a breath, and opened them once more. Only for pain to explode across her body.

Everyone around her fell to their knees as blood jetted from their ears. A cackle from behind Thana revealed the perpetrator. Violince was standing once more, her hands clasping the magic instrument in her hands. She lacked a bow and was simply plucking the strings with fingertips stained crimson. Her wild grin broke when she beheld the Stormdaughter still standing, and fear blossomed in her eyes they met the demigoddess'. The villainess didn't have time to react.

Thana's arm lashed out too quickly to grab the wrist holding up the magic violin. All the woman had time to do was let out a pathetic squeak of terror before screaming as the Stormdaughter squeezed. Despite how loud she was, the bone snapping was louder. Thana let go and the woman collapsed to the ground sobbing and clutching her ruined arm. The demigoddess ignored her and retrieved the fallen instrument, hooking it in her belt like she should've done earlier.

Her gaze swept over the idiot as he curled into a ball wailing. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Was that not real enough?" she barked to him before realizing he had been temporarily deafened. Her teeth clenched as she turned away from the wretch and looked back at the other fallen villains. Both of them had come to and were wide eyed at the scene before them.

"Stay." They nodded and Thana heard the sirens of Arrestor and emergency service vehicles approaching. Armored men and women soon streamed forth to process the villains and tend to the wounded. Thana knew a few small spells to help ease their pain but it was dangerous to cast words of healing when rage was so vibrant in one's heart.

A mortal dared to approach her and began to berate her for some reason or another and she simply shoved the cursed violin in his hands and turned to leave, taking one last look at the pathetic soul who had dared to- The man's face trembled in pain and fear as he met her eyes and she froze in her steps, remembering countless other faces like that. One in particular stood out to her.

Her throat caught and her jaw trembled before she twisted away and launched herself into the air, wishing to put as much distance between herself and this scene as possible. Shouts from the Arrestor who confronted her followed in her wake, but the words failed to reach her. High in the clouds she coughed a mixture of a laugh and a sob as she realized that she was alone.

Her closest friend and confidant was apparently hundreds of millions of miles away from here, saving yet another world if the news were to be believed. Her other allies were currently fighting their damnedest against the hordes of the League across the globe. Her latest soul of kinship she was keeping at arm's length lest she be forced to reconcile with her crimes. And of course the latest soul she'd ever allowed herself to love was dead.

And rather than the small moments together, or the special trips shared, or other tender thoughts, the thing that had reminded her of him today was that Thana had seen his face on the man that she had wanted to kill mere minutes ago for daring to question her. What if she hadn't made that oath? What if she'd let loose her power? Would she have-"Hey." Thana's eyes snapped to the newcomer among the clouds.

The man in blue flapped his wings as he approached calmly, but with his arms held forward like he was approaching a dangerous animal.

"I saw what happened," Ice Hawk said.

"I think we need to have a little talk, alright?"

Nick North laughed as he watched the TV, watching Sharpshooter get slapped aside by Auroch Automaton. Despite being a villain, he didn't usually cheer when watching heroes get piled on, especially by the League, but this was his one exception. After all, he'd debuted as Sharp Shooter years before this asshole had taken the name. And yet, the hero bias meant that everyone accused Nick of plagarism rather than the other way around.

Given that the two of them lived on opposite sides of the AU, had different powersets and costumes, you wouldn't think he'd get so much grief over the name, but you'd be surprised. Nick had more than once thought about hopping on a plane to go try and settle this grudge, but he usually sobered up before he could put that plan into action. He settled for cyberstalking the plagiarist instead, which let him see moments like this.

"You rewatching Cyclone Eye beat up your boyfriend?" his flatmate asked as she lazily exited her room. He didn't even bother to scowl at Irene. Given that she was still in her pajamas this late in the day, Nick knew exactly how she was feeling and didn't take the insult personally. Like him, she'd been out of a job for the past few days while the League was throwing their weight around. Pretty much everyone they knew was in the same state.

Sure she could run out as Watch Witch and try to pull off a heist, but she'd be doing so without a partner or team and without the smokescreen of half a dozen other villains all doing the same thing at the same time. Oh, there were villains menacing the city alright, it's just that they were all the newcomers the League brought with them and they were fucking territorial. Forget the heroes, the true threat was crossing paths with a pack of them in the back alleys or "villain paths".

¹ Word on the grapevine was that they'd already put Wastrel in the hospital, broke Crowmaster's arm, and had muscled Red Robber out of his own bank heist. The fuckers were starting to get a little too comfy at the local hangouts and Nick could tell this was going to hit a boiling point soon.

"This is a new one," he told Irene.

"Different guy tossing him around." She peeked at the screen and groaned when she saw the League's top brass flinging cars around, "Don't know how you can watch this crap right now." Nick turned back to the footage and as the screen remained fixated on Automaton, he felt his own mouth fix into a frown. He killed the playback and rubbed his eyes, "Shit…"

"Sorry, didn't mean to-""No, you're right," he grumbled.

"Just… bored."

"You could help me work on my restoration," she offered. Nick couldn't find the words to tell her he'd rather die than help her rebuild one more fucking clock with all the ticking in the living room. He thought he'd grown numb to living with a gimmick villain like her who tended to bring her shtick home with her but the past couple days of being cooped up in here had led him to develop an unhealthy hatred of the décor he'd agreed to let her put up.

In his defense, if you cleared half the number of timepieces and replaced the remaining number with posters about a specific thing, like a band or sports team, you'd still have visitors walking in asking if you had an obsession.

"I think I need to just check out my old hobbies," he told her as he lifted himself off the living room couch with a heavy sigh. Nick strolled over to a laptop he left perpetually charging in the breakfast nook and flipped it open after brushing a thin layer of dust off the top. Right, it was his turn to do the cleaning. Might get to that later… The screen took forever to load before a notification alerted him to the fact that he'd been neglecting system updates.

He let out another sigh and set the machine to going through its motions while he pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe he'd needed to take some time away from his villain work to handle some of the things around the house he- His work phone went off and he shot over to it like a bolt of lightning. Irene materialized at his shoulder the moment he shouted out the caller ID.

"About fucking time, Vandal," he laughed, throwing it on speaker.

"Was wondering if you were retiring to work on your stories."

"Don't test me, Shooter," she said without a hint of edge to her voice.

"I will write you kissing your nemesis."

"No! You still need to finish up Entwined Capes!" Irene protested.

"Stop getting distracted by new stuff."

"That series is dead!" the petulant information broker snapped, and Nick could hear her face growing red from the sound of her voice alone. In his experience, Vandal was fine with you knowing about her less than professional hobbies as long as you didn't mention her "shameful past" on IntraHome. ² While Irene pouted, Vandal cleared her throat, "I've got a job for you two, assuming you're done being stupid." Nick finished chuckling and spoke up, "Yeah, alright. I could use something decent.

Shame we're scrapping the Victory Day plans."

"No, we're not." A silence settled over the apartment, or as near as one that could exist with dozens of ticking clocks surrounding it.

"Hey, V, I'm not sure if you've noticed but-""That's why I've got a job for you two," she cut in, and suddenly all traces of the playful brat were gone. This was the information broker that had been trying to undermine the Broker and seize control of Victory's underground information network.

"I need you to hit some League targets." Irene guffawed while Nick just groaned, "No, I'm not picking a fight with the fucking League, Vandal. The Victory Day plans were one thing, this is-""You're not going to be picking a fight with the League and you're not going in costume," she cut him off again.

"I'm going to pull them away from a few of their hideouts and you're going to go in there in drab mask, ³ wreck anyone who was left behind, take roughly ten percent of their stash, then drop an anonymous line to the Arrestors."

"We're cosplaying vigilantes?" Irene asked, a note of interest in her voice.

"That's the plan." Nick bit his lip, "How many of these do you want us to pull?"

"You only need to do one or two," she told him.

"I've got a few others hitting up spots around the city this week. Don't want this to seem too obvious, but rattle them a bit. Give the heroes some easy wins."

"And show up Amberheart," Nick realized, a slight grin on his face. While they claimed to represent the whole of heroes in the city, every villain in the know understood that there was a delicate dance of politics to the whole thing. Wins for heroes in general didn't translate to wins for the big tower. If a series of allegedly uncoordinated strikes by supposed vigilantes or independent hero teams were putting a bigger dent in the League than the big heroes were, then they'd need to make a grand gesture.

"Yep, we're going to force them to put Victory Day back on track," Vandal sounded pleased with herself.

"Especially since I got the final part of our team squared away."

"Your crush call you back?" Irene asked with a smirk.

"Oh hey, I just remembered I need to call Crystal Crusader Celia about something." It was Irene's turn to blush furiously, "Don't you fucking dare." Nick stifled a laugh as the two of them bickered. It was an odd friendship the lot of them had, but that was the villain lifestyle.

Vandal was like a decade younger than either of the two in this apartment and he'd only known her for three years and Irene for two more than that, but he felt closer to these two than he did towards the few people who still had his other phone's number. And those were the people he'd grown up with. Fuck, he wasn't as close to his old man as he was with Lecktor, and he wasn't on speaking terms with that cheapskate until the bastard finally paid for that drink he owed him.

So despite his trepidation on fucking with the League, he made up his mind, "Alright, I'm in. Toss me the deets."

"Same here," Irene confirmed with a huff.

"But this had better get things back on track." Nick rolled his eyes. Irene was full in on Vandal's scheme regarding Victory Day, having bought the whole spiel behind the job. It wasn't like he disagreed, but he was a villain at heart. Fighting for lofty ideals, even one couched in as much "realism" as Vandal's were, didn't sit well with him.

"Right, sending them now. First job is tonight since I've already got the distraction ready," she told them.

"Go let off some steam, but remember not to leave behind anything too incriminating." Nick hung up the phone and heard a ping from his laptop. Irene was racing over there ahead of him, bouncing with anticipation. He simply smiled and cracked his knuckles, small blades emerging from them as he did so. Time for some payback.