Industrial Strength Magic

Chapter 53: From Bad to Worse

Twelve forty-two stood in front of a glass pane. On the other side was a man, stranger than any other man he’d seen. He didn’t have the clean look of one of the people from his books, instead his face was wrinkled and weathered, his clothes dirty, and he shook violently.

What is wrong with him?

“Twelve forty-two,” Father said as he entered the room, causing Twelve forty-two to come to attention, facing him.

“I’ve seen from your test results that you are exceptionally gifted.”

“Sir.”

“I’ve been brainstorming uses for your power, and now we are going to practice one of them.”

“Am I going to help him?” Twelve forty-two asked.

Father’s electric halo stilled. “Why do you ask that?” he asked.

“He seems to be in some kind of physical distress. I understand that capes are meant to…help people?” Twelve forty-two hazarded, his voice trailing off as Father continued to stare.

“Ah, a childish misconception.” Father said. “Capes are meant to appear to help people. Sometimes that means actually providing aid to civilians for publicity, but in this case, you will be using the Test Dummy to practice your powers.”

“But...he doesn’t look so good.”

“Do NOT contradict me!” Father said, arcs of electricity emerging from the floor and dragging Twelve forty-two screaming to the ground.

“You will do as I say, and you will do it without question, understood?” Father said.

Twelve forty-two tried to reply, but the pain radiating through his body was forcing his jaw shut.

“Is that understood!?”

Twelve forty-two put everything he had into opening his mouth.

“…Sir!”

“…good.” the electricity disappeared like it had never been, and Twelve forty-two climbed back to his feet, his entire body shaky.

“Now, I want you to reach out with your power and gently nuge the salt in that man’s body. Allow it to pass through his cell walls and into his bloodstream.”

“Will that…help him?”

“If you do it right, it was render him unconscious without lingering side effects.” Father said.

“Okay.”

Twelve forty-two reached out with his power and nudged the old man. The old man’s eyes widened as a fine dust of salt fell out of his body. He slumped over and lay still.

“Oh, Twelve forty-two, the reason I admire your power is the same reason you must practice harder: It’s far easier to kill with it than it is to disable.”

“…What?” Is he dead? Just like that? Twelve forty-two’s hair stood on end.

“Let’s bring in the next Dummy.”

The door opened and another dirty man was forced into the room by robotic arms. He knelt down and began shaking the first, his eyes wide with terror.

He began shouting something, but Twelve forty-two couldn’t hear anything through the glass.

“I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I, Twelve forty-two. Neither do I,” Father said. “It’s a terrific waste of my valuable time.”

“Now, tip the next dummy’s salt balance. And be sure to limit your powers to inside their body. The last one you allowed all the salt in his body to fall out, causing cardiac arrest.”

***Chemestro****

Twelve forty-two – no, Chemestro, woke up, made sure he was still in his house, mentally checked his status to make sure he wasn’t under control of a minder, then flexed his fingers and toes to confirm he wasn’t drugged or restrained.

Everything looks good. He drew aside the musty quilted blanket that had come with the house, folded it and straightened the sheets before placing the folded quilt on top.

He worked out, ate his bland breakfast mechanically, studying today’s mission as he did so.

Today’s mission was to act as a ringer for Locust’s property dispute with Monolith.

He would appear under guise of being a cape there to break up the fight, arresting a disproportionate amount of the opposing supers, handing the green skinned mutant woman a win by default.

He reviewed Monolith’s people. None of them posed a problem in particular, although he was known to hire Mass Driver now and then as extra muscle.

That could be problematic.

Mass Driver was sweeper-level, and Chemestro was uncertain his powers would work on the man. It was theorized that Mass driver had total control over the inertia of everything he touched. Including himself.

Which meant Chemestro might not be able to tip his salt balance and render him unconscious if Mass Driver decided he wanted everything to stay where it belonged.

Scooping out another spoonful of avocado, Chemestro flipped open his notebook of simple toxins he could fabricate out of thin air, refreshing himself. If he couldn’t brute force Mass Driver, he’d have to slowly poison him.

Later that day, Chemestro watched from a distance as the two sides marshalled their troops.

Monolith was a tall, obsidian skinned bruiser who seemed to be carved from shiny black stone, he also had Energy-type powers, albeit minor in both power and range.

Locust was a green-skinned older woman with a disciplined look. Jacket and jeans, thin, athletic body.

Her troops…

Chemestro scowled. Her troops were wearing Paradox’s armor. No less than eighty suits of power armor, making her unpowered subordinates many times more effective than they might’ve otherwise been.

I’m surprised his suits are working without him, especially during High Tide.

As irritating as it was to see eighty Paradox’s on the field of battle, Chemestro had to respect the old woman’s overkill.

Or maybe it isn’t overkill, He thought as he spotted Mass Driver descend from the sky and join the battle lines.

Mass Driver’s bounty was five million dollars.

Chemestro chewed his lip as the fighting began, with both sides charging towards each other, unleashing their powers in a battle that devolved into a chaotic melee.

The wording of his task for Locust meant he could snatch up a few of the minor players and still have technically done his job, but it wouldn’t be honoring the spirit of the bargain.

It would be better to be known as someone who can deliver than the alternative.

Before he could start the process of surreptitiously poisoning Mass Driver, Paradox’s…’friends’ arrived, and Mass Driver began acting strange.

***Natalie AKA Hardcase****

“Why does he keep going for Jetset!?” Hardcase demanded, watching the wounded Jetset struggle to keep himself out of the cowl’s grip.

“I don’t know! Jetset, pull him through the alley!” Titan said, bursting through a house and tackling the pursuing Mass Driver as he darted through the alley.

Titan tumbled away as Mass Driver ignored the tackle, brushing him off with contemptuous ease.

“Stop running, kid,” Mass Driver said.

“Um, no thanks, I’d rather not get turned inside out!” Jetset yelled over his shoulder as he flew away.

Hardcase’s eyes widened as Mass driver simply tripled his speed without any visible effort, catching Jetset by the throat and punching him in the stomach.

Jetset’s eyes bulged.

“Get away from him you psycho!” Warcry shouted unleashing a series of purple energy arrows on Mass Driver.

They bounced off.

The veteran cowl glanced down dispassionately at Warcry.

“No.”

Mass Driver extended a finger, ignoring Jetset scratching at his arm like a caged animal.

“AGH!” Jetset’s upper arm snapped as Mass Driver poked it.

Mass Driver let go of Jetset, kicking him away. Jetset barely caught himself before he hit the ground.

Hardcase started running, as she saw Mass driver aiming to smash Jetset into the ground.

She tried tackling Mass Driver out of the way, but instead her mechsuit came to an unnatural halt, denting the cockpit and shaking up Hardcase inside it, nearly giving her whiplash.

Jetset rolled out of the way as Mass Driver’s foot speared through the asphalt where he’d been laying.

“Is that it?” Mass driver asked, idly shoving Hardcase aside.

Hardcase desperately engaged her rear thrusters moments before she slammed into the nearby wall of the scrapyard.

This time I’m pretty sure I did get whiplash. She thought, groaning.

Around her, the battle raged on, their team having next to no effect on it, given that Mass Driver was handling all of them simultaneously.

There was a flash of light in the distance, and Hardcase felt herself floating up against the belts strapping her into her seat.

Paradox? She thought, looking at the source of the light.

Two sleek power armors were posing at the epicenter of the light.

“Halt villains! The Dynamic Duo will, oh crap, I looked at it! I looked at it, Tom!” One of the posing suits began clawing at the air as he began floating upward, his teammate grabbing his hand to keep him attached to the ground.

“You told me Nexus wouldn’t interfere!” Monolith said, blocking lasers aimed for his eyes with his wrists

“Do they look like Nexus to you?” Mass Driver asked, his voice unnaturally clear above the mayhem.

I think I know who found Paradox’s suit. Hardcase thought, tugging herself out of the metal surface.

“Stop playing around with those kids and help!” Monolith shouted.

“I’ve got higher obligations,” Mass Driver said before darting after Jetset again.

“Dude, what is your problem!? Warcry demanded, standing in front of Jetset and unleashing a massive sheet of purple energy at the approaching cowl.

Mass driver sheared through it like a speedboat through a lake, punching Warcry in the sternum.

Warcry’s eyes went wide, and she keeled over.

Titan leapt on Mass Driver’s back, dwarfing the cowl as he wrapped his massive arm around the man’s throat.

Titan’s arm blasted away from Mass Driver’s throat, eliciting a cry of pain from the massive bruiser.

“Get lost.”

Titan was catapulted up into the sky, turning into a faint dot that Hardcase rapidly lost track of.

I think we need to change tactics.

“Jetset!” Hardcase said, getting the green-clothed super’s attention. “You need to leave!”

“I gotcha, man!” Manic said, picking up Jetset and disappearing in a blur of motion.

Mass Driver watched the spot where Jetset had vanished for a moment. Then he shrugged, ignoring Warcry and Hardcase only a few feet away from him, to rejoin the brawl.

“What the HELL was that!?” Warcry demanded, her voice hoarse.

“I don’t know! Maybe Jetset is dating his daughter!?” Hardcase said.

“Haha, ow,” Warcry groaned, clutching her chest.

They watched Mass Driver dive into the battle and disable Paradox’s suits on the other side in rapid succession.

About thirty seconds into Mass-Driver’s rampage, the cowl wobbled in place and collapsed onto the ground.

Above him, Chemestro faded into visibility, stooping to throw the impossibly powerful cowl over his shoulder with casual ease.

“He can turn invisible!? Warcry demanded. “HAX!”

Chemestro glanced at them, his eyes narrowed for a moment before he spoke. “This battle is over! I’m taking you all into custody! Do not resist or I will be forced to subdue you.”

“If you think you can stop me, you got another thing co-“ Monolith’s eyes rolled back in his head as he passed out.

Locust’s side seemed to subtly withdraw, and Chemestro didn’t seem to care.

Odd… Hardcase thought.

“Yo bro, don’t horn in on our action!” one of the Dynamic Duo said – Natalie couldn’t be bothered to memorize which was which – pulling a bazooka off of his back and leveling it at Chemestro. “We got here first! Plus I didn’t even get to test out this doohickey!”

Chemestro waved dismissively and the rocket fell out of the bottom of the rocket laucher.

Except it wasn’t a rocket.

It was a cannister.

The cannister split open explosively, revealing five spikes connected by a chain. On top of each of the spikes was a magnesium flare. They buried themselves in the ground, their tops sending up smoke. In the center was a plastic egg.

Whaaaat is thaaat!? Hardcase thought as her skin broke out in goosepimples.

The air split open above the strange hexagon. The air became membranous as a massive red and yellow arm with razor sharp talons split its way through, accompanied by the scent of rot and decay.

“I want everyone here to know, that I did not pull the trigger,” the one with the rocket launcher said.

The creature pulled its head through the membrane, a strangely emaciated skull riddled with splotches of unhealthy looking, mottled skin. Its glowing yellow eyes rolled in its skull as it surveyed the scrapyard.

“OOOOOOAAAAAH!”

It let out a roar that drove Hardcase backwards, rusting the metal of the scrapyard in a blooming circle around it.

“What is that? what is THAT!?” Warcry demanded.

“Where is my Contractor?” The words stung to listen to, coating Hardcase’s cockpit with a layer of rust. “Where is Paradox!?”

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