Arc 13 Battle of Bronson City

  Chapter 16

  Interlude: Escalations

  Bronson City bustled and bristled on the northern section of the Warehouse Industrial District. The battle between heroes and villains ebbing and flowing as the majority of both forces were concentrated here. The burnt out hollow shells of shipping warehouses were spaced out leaving large open swathes of jagged concrete and twisted steel where destroyed buildings once stood. Large earth warping impact points scarred the advance of the heroes, the Citadel providing a ceaseless and incremental barrage of devastating lasers.

  The Kraken forces were slowly losing ground as their emplacements were destroyed or abandoned to seek more fortified positions. The sudden and vicious assault had caught most of the rank and file by surprise. Despite the initial confusion the Kraken soldiers were hardened veterans and cool headed. They quickly rebuffed the initial attack, save the supporting fire from the ever looming Citadel. There wasn’t much that they could do about the fortress of doom that slowly encroached upon them, save going even deeper into cover.

  In the midst of all this back and forth chaos something reminiscent of a duel was taking place, Boris the Soviet Love Hammer clad only in a bright red speedo, with a golden hammer and sickle emblazoned on it, his suit long since burned off and discarded. He stood his ground. The imposing man of muscle gazed down upon the scattered bodies of those that had challenged him. Lucky for the heroes, he had not killed any of them, they had simply been incapacitated. Boris was a man of honor even if he was a villain. Which was, very uncharacteristic of Kraken members.

  He flexed, the dying light of the setting sun gleaming off of his pecs as he struck a confident pose. “Da, who next? I can go all night.”

  A wide excited smile filling his face as the next challenger approached. The newcomer a tall and imposing man himself. His face covered in a scooping grill that incited the image of a train plow. Steam billowing from the vents attached to the back of his shoulders. White and green armor plates formed his suit, the hands fitted with knuckle guards that formed spiked grills. He was a bull or rather more accurately, a freight train of a man. His fists slammed together grinding like gears as sparks billowed from them illuminating the bright green A and T logo on his chest.

  “Atomic Train. Finally a worthy foe. Da, bring the heat.” Boris pointed at the hero declaring his intentions.

  His deep booming voice answered. “You again Boris? You should stop being Molotov’s lap dog. A man of your talents is wasted with the Villains. Speaking of, where is that little gremlin?”

  Boris shifted his head a little to the left, towards a different section of the city where a resounding impact toppled over a skyscraper, several streaking figures chased one another through the falling structure. On one side a very minuscule form appeared to be swinging something or rather someone around like a club. The weapon in question was a lithe and lanky black silhouette highlighted by yellow between the explosions that reverberated from every swing. Simply from the details it was clear who that villainous duo was, Molotov and Nitro.

  Though it was hard to see who they were attacking due to the sheer speed in which their opponent was moving, but there in lay a clue. A blue streak swept along the falling building darting along it as it zoomed in and out of focus. Molotov and Nitro floundering to keep up as the blindingly quick figure was literally running circles around them. It was the Fast, the human blurr. The Fast had recently joined the fray after putting down several Kraken uprisings on his way over. They had been little more than speed bumps for him due to not having any high ranking villains. The blue streak of a man was keeping both of the highest ranked villains tied up and distracted, if he wasn’t here then those two monsters would be free to wreck havoc.

  From the looks of things it was a stalemate. They couldn’t hit him but he couldn’t deal meaningful damage due to Nitro absorbing ever blow that was aimed for the smaller, much more dangerous Molotov. The Fast was biding his time waiting for Molotov to slip up.

  Realizing that he was wasting time, this operation was finite in its time frame and they needed to do as much damage as possible to the villains to keep them distracted from the teems that went to scout the various lairs that had been uncovered. Atomic Train started to warm up so to speak as his suit’s gears ground for a moment. The protective grill on Atomic Train’s helmet shifted down, a radioactive glow spilling from the gaps as his entire suit fired up. Step after step he gained momentum, a low chugging noise rose as the vents on his back flared guttering out a thick green acrid smoke. Mid step he slid, his feet locking into position as he surged forward ramping up speed as he plowed forward.

  Boris’s stance shifted as the ground around his feet cratered, his fist pulling back as it wound up a powerful punch to meet the run away train wreck coming right at him. His body shifted as his fist slammed forward, wind gusting away in a shock wave. Fist met metal as the grilled face of Atomic Train received the blow head on, the opposing forces clashed in a devastating blast that leveled the city block around them.

  Pain. Both of them reeling from the impact.

  Through the smoke and debris Boris was flung into the air as Atomic Train kept going bulldozing through three buildings before he could come to a screech halt. He skid, grinding his heavy tracked boots as he turned gearing up for another headlong charge. Though he had won the clash his helmet was dented in from impact, impairing his vision as half of his face was smashed in.

  Chuga. Chuga. Chuga.

  The rhythmic sound of his heavy steps grew faster as he started to gain speed once more. The green steam billowed out as he locked in once more his feet seizing in place yet he kept ramping up speed it was almost as though he was on an invisible set of rails that accelerated him.

  Boris stunned for a brief moment, twisted in the air, repositioning as he observed the rapidly encroaching man of steel and steam. Knowing that a head on against a train wouldn’t work, last time had proved that, he punched down creating an updraft that altered where and when he would land. He shifted lining up with his opponent his elbow out going for the downtown slam. Out maneuvering the one tracked man, Boris slammed down, narrowly missing as Atomic Train suddenly picked up even more speed dodging the blow.

  The pavement exploded from the impact of Boris and several more buildings toppled over as Atomic train shifted gears, this time not stopping, he turned in a wide never ceasing charge that kept all of his momentum. This wasn’t good, Boris needed a firm and decisive strike to put the brakes on his foe. But the movement and sturdiness was hard to deal with. The green smoke guzzling out of his living engine ramped up even harder. Behind him a thick toxic cloud blanketed the ruined streets. Heroes and Villains alike fleeing from the acidic mist. Those that didn’t vanished, their shape melting with horrific screams.

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

  Some of the mist scaled and seared his biceps as Boris rolled away, he quickly got to his feet ready to face down the charge, yet it didn’t come. Atomic train was making a wide circle around him. Perplexed Boris watched. The thick cloud obscuring behind in his wake was forming a wall. It took a brief moment before it clicked what the Hero was up to. Boris leapt back towards the villain’s lines as he and Atomic Train were racing to head one another off. He rushed forward, kicking hard to gain extra distance. The train was closing in and the encirclement would be complete if he beat Boris there.

  Boris’s eyes never left the oncoming Atomic Train as his green glowing armor grew brighter and hotter, the air scalding as the colors changed. Green on the armor shifted into a deep crimson. A loud shrieking whistle, the type of sound that a kettle makes when boiling over was mixed with the rapid chugging. Steam and smoke billowing out of every crevice rather than just the vents on his back.

  The distance shrunk rapidly Boris a mere running leap from breaking free but Atomic Train was already here, already nearly completing the encirclement. The green wall of caustic smoke closing in, mere seconds from arriving. He jumped twisting back as he threw a massive punch propelling himself farther. He rolled hitting the ground having narrowly escaped. The wall of death snapping shut as Boris jump back away from it avoiding the billowing mist that cascaded down wafting over the surrounding pavement. A sizzling noise rising as the concrete corroded and melted from being exposed to the vapors. The red glow and chugging of Atomic Train faded into the mist.

  ***

  Atop a tilted tower, a picnic of sorts of was set up. Blue and white striped beach chairs and umbrellas were arrayed around an inflatable table that wobbled with every impact from the surrounding city. The evil of all evil lounged, observing the fighting below. Only half paying attention to the desperate life and death struggles of the worms below. The lace gloved hands feeding a carrot to the duo of bunnies in its lap. One rabbit pitch black with glowing red eyes, the other pure white with blue eyes. Unlike normal rabbits these had a single wing matching their color, the black rabbit with the left wing and the white rabbit with the right.

  The critters seemed rather content, being pet passively as they were fed. Though behind those eyes an intelligence could clearly be seen, these were not mindless animals. Above nestled on the shoulder of the Sanguine Puppeteer sat the perpetually scowling sphynx cat, Miss Wiggles.

  The deranged vaguely heart shaped mask shifted as the Puppeteer took a large, loud slurp of a sickly sweet drink overly saturated in honey to the point that it did not dissolve leaving large globs. The straw clogging briefly on one such orb, draining the glass dry. Lazily the sound of a bell jingled causing several masked maids and butlers to step forward, they whimsically moved. All of their action exhilarated and drawn out as they served, bringing out fancy horderves, in this case little snacks from cheese and crackers to decadent chocolate covered cherries, one even carrying a bowl of grapes to feed their Master. A maid refilled the glass, unperturbed by the explosions nearby and the distant screams below.

  “Ahh,” sighed the Puppeteer, gazing down amused over the current affairs. “The puppets are so lively today.”

  As though to punctuate this statement the building directly across from them toppled as a blur of blue swirled around it, Molotov in hot pursuit, swinging Nitro around as a child does with its favorite toy. The Fast dodged left then right, easily outmaneuvering the much slower villain. He even paused briefly through the disorientating vibration of air around him, he and Puppeteer made eye contact. The unnerving smile perpetually spread across the mask jeering back as the Puppeteer wiggled its fingers at him as one does to a feisty cat to tease it.

  He visibly slowed, panic, terror, as he shifted ducking under a diagonal swing from Molotov. For him it was all moving in slow motion, ease to step and weave and dodge. But the puppeteer was moving in real time for him. The fingers moving in an almost hypnotic motion, fluid, ever changing. Something about it was almost mesmerizing. The aura of power surrounding it making every cell in his body jolt away, trying to flee that monstrosity.

  “Visual confirmation on the Sanguine Puppeteer. It is as we feared, it is awake. Molotov and Nitro are on my position, Citadel, concentrate all fire on my location.” The Fast spoke so quickly that without a translator that slowed it from a tenth of a second and extended it to recognizable language it would impossible to understand.

  It took a few moments to be relayed as distantly the Citadel shifted. With the villains occupied they didn’t even notice the rows of laser cannons locking on. The energy levels spiking as the glisten and glow of the fully charged weapons twinkled moments before release. As the cannons reached full charge firing, a sudden disturbance, disrupted the aim, as though planned down to the second. A violent explosion. The shock wave reverberating out. The Citadel shook from the vibrations and debris colliding with its shield, its aim altering from the impact.

  The scalding lasers missed, cutting swathes through the city, tearing through the uptown section of the city as the pristine skyscrapers toppled and the mountains beyond melted forming a circular scar through them. The sky peeking through in the dying light of the evening as night descended fully.

  All eyes in the city shifted to the explosion. The cloud billowing up as the streets were consumed with chocking ash and debris. It swept along like a wave of dark waters drowning all that was in its wake. The Heroes and Villains both in disarray over these events, retreated.

  Molotov scowled waving Nitro menacingly as the Fast zipped away in the confusion, vanishing into the darkness of the city. Across from them, the Puppeteer applauded completely unscathed and unfazed by the brush with vaporization, clapping its hands with glee over the sheer wanton destruction. Molotov on the other hand, wiping a cold sweat from her face as the realization of how close that blast was. That attack certainly was strong enough to kill her even if Nitro had been used as a human shield. It was debatable if Nitro would have been able come out of that in piece. They looked back and forth between the devastated north west section of the city and down to the crater that was the Down Town section of the city. In one foul swoop, the city which had been clinging to civility was laid low.

  The twisted mask of the Puppeteer gazed out over its play ground. Oh what grand and intoxicating tales shall it weave? What harrowing and exciting drama yet to unfold? Oh the possibilities. But what theme, what genre shall the play be? Tragedy, adversity, romance! Villainy, or heroism. The underdog clawing its way up from the wretched masses to strike at god and make it bleed… or would god simply crush the ants and worms as the pathetic creatures they are. It was hard to choose, should it choose? Would the show be better undirected or did it need a guiding hand? The Puppeteer wrestled with these thoughts, its wants and needs foreign, inhuman. A madness forgotten for centuries beginning to resurface. The Mad God, stirring from its slumber.

  Distantly, down below the opposing forces reeled away from one another. The clash leaving both bloodied and beaten like the worthless dogs that they are. Heroes and Villains fleeing to their respective bases. The glee and excitement fading as the Puppeteer’s mask stopped smiling. The puppets were cowering, hiding, this fun ended prematurely, the excitement and sensation rotting, decaying into a cold disinterest as the Puppeteer gazed down upon them like ants. Their strings needed to be… pulled. The stakes needed to be raised.

  A depraved smile spread across the mask, somehow it was even more unhinged than usual. Perhaps it was time to be more…. Hands on.

  The Puppeteer shifted a single finger, pulling a string, the effects unknown, somewhere someone’s reality had just been altered, unseen but certainly something catastrophic had just shifted. Something horrible had just occurred yet none were the wiser, at least, not yet, not till it was far too late to stop. This stone cast into the lake was about to make tidal waves.