Chương 103: Agitator

What they never tell you about riding in helicopters is that it's not steady. Planes want to fly, helicopters want to fall to the ground as quickly as possible. If anyone tells you they have a gliding helicopter, they're telling you they have a deathtrap. This resulted in all sorts of physical phenomena, namely swaying and vibrating constantly. It wore on May's focus like crazy. She was stuck on her own, physically.

She had her comms support with Daniel, one of the new people they had operating the communications, in her ear but even that wasn't much. Especially since he was very awkward.

"You, uh, got everything you need?" Daniel asked for the fifth time. She touched a finger to her ear.

"I do, Dan," she answered for the fifth time. It was like this for the whole trek. Looking out the open door of the helicopter, she could see smoke piling up in another direction. Wasn't sure if that was where Jairo was supposed to be landing or Agent Richmond. It'd be surprising if Jairo would do anything with fire, though, that's not really his style.

"Right, you'll be reaching your location in a couple of minutes," Daniel stated on the line.

"You'll need to call in for an evac from us. We'll find a landing zone and tell you where it is in proximity to you-" BAM Fire, noise, rattling. Something blasted the side of the helicopter, causing it to destabilize. May shot up from the surprise, looking towards the pilot who was immediately fidgeting with multiple systems on the dash.

"Hey, what was that!?" The pilot spoke. Calm, thick drawl.

"Explosion. Just off east side. Fragmented." BAM Another explosion, prompting May to reactively throw up a hard light barrier from the source of the noise, hoping nothing would ricochet and hit her.

"You're way too calm for this!"

"Did some shady stuff on the Côte d'Ivoire during the Civil War. This is nothing. But-" BAM May was no longer shrieking in response to these, but she was starting to feel disoriented from the shaking.

"They're getting more accurate. They hit the Jesus Nut, we're dead. We need to land elsewhere-""No-" May called out.

"I can get out now. I've done building hops from this height before."

"Are you sure?" He asked, turning his head to look at her.

"Don't do anything you're not ready for-" BAM"I have to!" May pushed herself to her feet, and it was Spectroma who lunged out of the helicopter. She had a good hundred feet towards the ground, which would be a death sentence if it weren't for the nearby roof. Using some spare moonlight to produce a blast that flung herself off to the side, and a second one slowed her velocity to let her land with a roll.

She took off sprinting from there, pouncing off the ledge, using more blasts to effectively ping pong herself down from fire escapes and awnings before she finally landed, facing towards the presumed direction the explosions came from. It was a roundabout that a tree had grown out of the center of, and was growing even further. Sitting at the base of the roundabout was a man, dark in complexion, fully draped in a robe of foliage, though when Spectroma made herself known, he began standing to his full height.

He was gargantuan, easily seven feet on the short end. Behind him were multiple people tangled in vines, almost wrapped in bundles by them. Alongside him was another man, who bore his own leafy cloak, but much shorter. Almost more of a serape. A wide-brimmed hat topped his head. The light of the moon and the nearby streetlamps cast upon him made one thing clear: His legs were entirely made of Wyrdwood, with knotted forms growing out at his hips.

He tipped a thumb against the brim of his hat, exposing a pair of bright blue eyes.

"Evenin', miss. You mind if I introduce myself?"

"What the Hell is wrong with you?" May immediately asked for all the obvious reasons.

"I'll tell ya' if you let me introduce myself. It's impolite to not greet guests."

"Absolutely not!" She immediately whipped an arm forward, only for a thin set of vines to lash through the air, slamming her arm back down against her body. Behind the hatted man, the tall man was pointing two fingers. There was death in his eyes.

"You are being incredibly rude, miss. But now that you're at more rapt attention…" he began.

"Name's Father Assacu. My friend here is Father Benghal. But I'm certain my face is a lot more recognizable, no?" He slipped his hat off, making his face much clearer in the night-time light.

"You're-" It was, in fact, one she recognized. Her father was a fan of multiple sports, including baseball. Before everything went awry with his health, she remembered watching news stories about a controversial player, named-"Ray McMichael."

"The very same pitcher for the Astros. With the world record fastball of 110." She let him rant. It gave her time to focus some light via the sweat on her palms towards the vines, cutting her entanglement up from the back so they wouldn't notice.

"The same one those sons of bitches banned, sayin' the quick draw pitch was a got-damn balk. Said it was too deviated from the typical pitching form. Couldn't handle the best pitch in the league bein' an underhand throw. Well, the ADU fellas really saw my potential and offered me a spot in their new world." He grinned, teeth pearlescent and almost glowing in the night.

"And I couldn't help but oblige." His hand snapped forward, his leafy poncho billowing from the movement. Immediately, in her face, was one of those knotted forms at his hips. Looked almost like a miniature pumpkin made of Wyrdwood. But she only saw it for a second before- BAM Like a small grenade, it burst in her face, bits of wood digging into her cheeks and chin like shrapnel. The force was enough to make her shriek, though she was able to withstand the visual burst in her face.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"We're a bit busy here, miss, so treat that show of force as a warnin', and an offer," Assacu continued. A new plant-bomb grew at his hip as he slipped his hat back on.

"You interfere with us growin' our little church here, I'll blast your head off. You decide to get lost, I won't kill you dead. Alternatively, you could join us. We could do with more supers in the Union." Pushing herself back to her feet, she spoke through a hissing pain.

"You're a maniac. I'm not letting you just take over this place because of some nonsense threats." Another one of those pods in her face. This time, however she was able to project out a blast of light to send it off course, causing it to only burst off to the side, resulting in a terrible ringing of the ears but otherwise no great harm. Still overwhelmed her senses, to the point she didn't see yet another set of vines launching out to constrict her until they already caught her.

Looking up at Benghal, she noticed that while he was pointing with his fingers, nothing indicated that was where they came from. Part of her wondered if that could have been an intentional mislead, but she's not Leo. She couldn't afford to spend her time thinking those things over, she thought like a normal person, and going through just that little process took up enough time that there was yet another one of those pods in her face. VWOM This time she managed to blast it far enough away to not harm her.

A 110 MPH fastball was fast, but nothing beats the speed of light. But she wasn't operating at the speed of light. Her blasts were, but she herself was operating at the speed of her thoughts, and those were slowed down by having to dedicate focus on burning through the vines on her yet again. By the time she broke free, she already had to lunge out of the way of yet another pod. At this point there was just a perpetual storm of them coming from Assacu like they were nothing. There seemed to be no relent in them.

All she could do was keep up approximations to gymnastic routines she hadn't done in over a decade. Unfortunately she wasn't a physical superhuman like Leo or Jairo. This wasn't something she could do all day, just a bit of it was taking everything out of her, while all the two Fathers had to do was just keep hurling projectiles at her without any strain on her body. She couldn't keep at a distance. She needed to figure out fast where there would be a spot to make an ambush position on Father Benghal.

If the one who was trying to tangle her up was dealt with, everything would be easier, so her focus was on him while she moved. The roundabout itself was mostly available. She could take a high ground position for now. But she had to make sure none of the hostages were where she could land. One wrong shot could hurt them. She didn't want to- Her blood ran cold. Her eyes bulged. He was there. Her brother. Tyson. Every memory she had of him coursed through her mind like a river.

Childhood play, tutoring her, helping bring their father to her gymnastics recitals as he had a harder and harder time with stairs. Sprinting onto the mat to lift her up when she broke her ankle. He was there before anyone else, sprinting like an Olympian. He was the one who carried her everywhere until the EMTs arrived. He was the one who suggested she focus on studies until her ankle recovered, but he never entertained the idea that it wouldn't return to 100%.

He sincerely believed in her even when she didn't believe in herself. His self-sacrifice to take care of both her and their father while her mom was struggling to help make ends meet. Giving up his own schooling for it. But then came the college scholarship for William & Mary, the news someone wanted to pay for her to study and get her credentials and a J. D. at the oldest law school in the country. Being told she would be recognized again, that she could be a premier in her field at something yet again.

A way to fulfill the same desire of being known that little girl had on the mat. Her father was proud. Her brother was proud. But her father was mad at Tyson. Because he gave up on school, was told he was a good-for-nothing who was leeching off of their father's money and pretended that chores made a difference. That he quit school because he was too dumb for it. He left. Her mother left, too. Her dad got worse. But he got better for a little while. A couple years into college.

Then she was told it was back, and this time it was terminal. The reaction there was when her powers kicked in. At her lowest point, knowing her father was going to die and her brother was gone and she would be completely on her own. She started glowing, before it turned into a flashbang. The counselor who told her ended up with permanent cataracts, burnt several layers into the cornea. Too deep for surgical removal. Her mom came back not long after, so that her father wouldn't die alone. Tyson didn't come back.

She didn't even know where he went. Until now. There he was, bundled up with the other hostages. Why did that idiot have to be here? She wanted to just give up to punish him for abandoning her. But she knew she couldn't. Unfortunately, what she didn't realize was she was thinking too much like Leo. Too caught in her own head. While that was just a couple seconds in reality, that was all Father Assacu needed to cross the gap.

"Got bored o' the ballgames!" he remarked as he wound up a punch. WHAM His fist struck her jaw, sending her stumbling back. He was a grown, athletic man. She was barely a 20 year old girl, and not a large one. The fact she didn't get knocked out was a testament to her own training, but she was seeing stars. Assacu rushed in further, yanking seedpods off of either hip and tossing them up in front of her as he leapt back.

As he landed and rolled away, they set off in her face, the barrier she attempted to establish in the mean-time failing to withstand the full blow as she was knocked back again. Father Benghal didn't move. He just kept aiming his fingers at her. That's when she saw where they came from. His lips parted for a split second. He was spitting them at her. By the time she noticed, another set coiled around her face, tugging at her neck. It was going to strangle her if she didn't focus on it.

But then there was Assacu, hurling more and more bombs. At this point, she gave up on trying to repel. She knew the bombs blasted hot and bright. Thermal radiation was on the electromagnetic spectrum. She knew her powers interacted with that, it's how she could help with Jairo's sight at times. How she was able to turn off the lights in that little library when Holden was accosting them. She just had to keep it moving around her. Bounce it from drop of sweat to drop of sweat while it accumulated.

It was getting more difficult due to her struggling for air, and she ended up taking a knee. Assacu approached, tossing another pod up and down in his hand.

"Well, honey. I did warn ya'. But, I guess this is the end for you." She looked up at him, a smile starting to form on her face. The moron was right where she wanted him. All she had to do was put all of that heat and light out at once. Right in his face. VWOOMM Like a human flashbang, it sent him stumbling back, his body singed. The vines trying to choke her reduced to ash.

Unfortunately, it set the pod off in her face as well, scorching parts of it and landing a piece of shrapnel in her cheek, inflammation already setting in and half-blinding her. Meanwhile, he just looked inconvenienced. She could breathe, but she was exhausted. She was wounded. She was just recovering from being half-strangled. There was no winning here. There was no killing time. If she wanted to save Tyson, she needed to recover. And she hated herself down to the core for it.

VWAM Launching herself back, she used multiple consecutive blasts to send her hurtling back up to the rooftops, bounding several away before limply putting a hand on her earpiece, trying to find a distant enough spot to call.

"Dan, I need the copter. I need-" She panted.

"I need to retreat."

"G-got it. He'll be closing in on your location in a minute. Sit tight, Spectroma." Her hand fell from the earpiece, and as she landed on another roof, she immediately fell to her knees. All she could sob out was an "I'm so sorry, Tyson."