“No ma’am, that’s all I have on the matter.”

  “Thank you, Dragon. Keep me posted.”

  “Yes, ma’am.

  The call ended and Dragon released a digital sigh. Dealing with the Chief Director of the PRT was always a challenge. The Tinker was basically asked to pass on copies of all of her findings, observations, and even speculations. All because they really, really, really, wanted to know as much as they could about Seraph.

  Not that she could blame them.

  Far too many things are happening around that boy, and he is definitely just a boy. Her cameras essentially confirmed what was previously just speculation. 18 years of age, at the oldest, too. His headgear did much to obscure his face, but Dragon’s sensors were some of the most advanced in the world.

  With that said, she did have mixed emotions over such a violation of the Unwritten Rules. Secret identities could be uncovered using so many ways, that it’s often more a matter of discretion than a lack of means that preserves a cape’s private life.

  In this case, however, it’s become a matter of national security and international interests. Had Seraph remained a big fish in a small pond, he wouldn’t be getting as much scrutiny as he is now. However, the incident over the Atlantic Ocean effectively blew whatever anonymity he still had out of the water (pun, very much intended).

  That’s why she currently had several of her suits patrolling over the skies of Brockton Bay.

  Suffice it to say, the city had become a hotbed for governmental scrutiny, both local and federal. Scrutiny that only intensified after Seraph woke Glory Girl from her coma, proving that he could heal, on top of the other abilities he’d already shown.

  From what surveillance cameras were able to capture, he did this with a new form that had a silvery white color before switching to another, which made him harder to track.

  His classification as a Trump had already drawn a lot of attention from organizations with Parahuman interests. After taking everything he has displayed together, seemingly without limitations, it seems that everyone now considers him on par with Eidolon.

  And, with all things being fair, they wouldn’t exactly be wrong.

  Taking control of a suit gliding over the western edge of the city, Dragon considered the situation while also running sub-routines to keep an eye on her surroundings. Right now, the goal was to get in touch with the winged parahuman, in hopes of establishing a dialogue.

  The PRT’s unusually restrained response to his actions is, in large part, because they hoped to gain his cooperation. A hope that’s ostensibly supported by his seeming adherence to avoidance, rather than violence, if given the choice.

  His thrashing of the local Protectorate team and New Wave certainly proved that he could have set himself up as a warlord or gang leader if he wanted to. That he hasn’t signaled a possibility of a more peaceful interaction.

  Now, if only they could actually find him.

  Bouncing from suit to suit, Dragon kept a vigilant eye on the ground and skies. From this high up, very few things could escape the Tinker’s gaze, which is how she managed to catch a brief flash out in the distance.

  Focusing on her sensors, Dragon zoomed in on an elevated road hugging the cliffside leading out of the city via the northern route, about a mile beyond the city limits. She took a few microseconds to understand what she was seeing before engaging her thrusters at maximum burn.

  There was no way she was letting him get away, this time.

  “Dragon to all channels, I have eyes on Seraph. I repeat, I have eyes on Seraph!”

  Rattling off the location of her quarry, Dragon sent instructions to her other suits to converge on her destination. While she did that, the Tinker dedicated some processing power to analyzing the scene playing out in front of her, with the details becoming clearer as she got closer.

  There were several figures scattered on the road. Projectiles were being hurled at Seraph before a miniature sun seemingly bloomed mid-air.

  Dragon had just finished looking through her records of capes fitting the powers on display when the RV exploded. What came out gave her a sense of deja vu.

  What is with this boy and monsters?! She couldn’t help but scream in her mind.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “Dragon to all channels, we have a possible A-Class Parahuman threat. I repeat, a possible A-Class Parahuman threat.”

  Several confirmations and cries of alarm flooded the comms before a cold, authoritative voice cut through the noise.

  “Dragon, Director Piggot. Report.”

  “Seraph is fighting what looks like a blob of flesh with shifting parts, possibly several tons in mass, and – oh, dear god – it just ate someone!”

  Dragon is rarely ever caught by surprise outside of Endbringer fights, but seeing one of the capes fighting Seraph get gobbled up was a horrifying sight to see. And it was about to get worse.

  “Director, you need to close down the highway.” Even to the Digital Entity, her own voice sounded faint as she watched something else pop out of the creature’s flesh. “The subject is capable of self-replication.”

  There was a sharp gasp, quickly followed by bellows of fury from the irate survivor of Elisburg.

  “All channels, get to the location, now! Do not let whatever it is spread or enter the city!”

  Dragon pushed her engines to move even faster. What started out as a quiet night has just become a race against time.

  Never a dull night in this city.

  Speeding through the streets of Brockton Bay are several dozen black SUVs, all of which were full of PRT agents and heroes, which included the Protectorate cape, Assault. The normally jovial man wore a grim expression under his helmet, with equally grim thoughts filling his head.

  Only to be expected, considering what they were burning rubber to reach.

  Another one. This time within walking distance of a populated area instead of in the middle of the ocean.

  When did this place become the monster capital of America? Didn’t they have enough to deal with?

  Humor was typically Assault’s main means of coping with stressful situations, but there has been a marked increase in those over the last month. Criminals, he could deal with. Villains, he could pummel all day long.

  But when the things that go bump in the night suddenly start crawling out of the woodwork, the reformed jailbreaker can be forgiven for asking questions. Questions like “What the fuck?”, “How the fuck?”, and “Why the fuck?”, in that order.

  There has got to be a limit to how much crazy their team is forced to deal with. There’s just gotta!

  Watching the footage of those oversized creepy crawlies out at sea made him thankful that they got there too late to do much other than help collect samples. But now one of them is here, in their own backyard.

  Was this city built on top of an Indian graveyard, or something? Their luck couldn’t possibly be this bad.

  “Assault, do you read?” Battery’s voice interrupted his descent into panic.

  “I read you. Whatcha need, puppy?”

  “We’re closing in on the AO,” she said, flooding Assault’s chest with ice. “Updated ROE puts us on perimeter duty. Apparently, only blasters can engage the main target. Otherwise, they risk getting assimilated and cloned.”

  What?

  “Where are we getting this intel?” He listened to the briefing while on the move, just like everyone else. There was no mention of this.

  “Seraph.”

  What?

  “He can talk?”

  Assault wasn’t sure why he asked that question. It must’ve been the constantly changing situation that’s making his head spin.

  “Why wouldn’t he – No, not the time. Look, he says we’re basically dealing with a rampaging Case 53. Code-named Echidna. Striker/Changer/Mover/Brute and Master. Rapid regeneration, monstrous strength, exponentially increasing mass, and can create a twisted copy of anyone who comes into physical contact with her. Apparently, you don’t even need to get swallowed, and the clone will have some twisted version of both your personality and powers.”

  “Christ!” Forget A-Class, this was a full-blown S-Class emergency!

  “Exactly,” Battery confirmed. “Dragon’s already briefing everyone else. The two of us will be hunting down escaped copies, along with Velocity, while the heroes not engaging Echidna will create a net about half a mile wide. The area inside of that will be our hunting grounds.”

  Well, that sounds simple enough. There’s got to be a catch, though.

  “What about the clones? Anything we need to watch out for?”

  “Confirming,” came the reply, before the comms clicked off. After a minute, which Assault spent trying to calm his jittery nerves, it came on again. “Seraph says their threat levels are variable. The clones could either be completely harmless or incredibly dangerous, both for others and themselves, but every single one is insane. A teleporter’s already been subsumed, along with a paraplegic with dream projection.”

  Okay, that didn’t sound so bad.

  “How many clones can she make?” Assault asked.

  “Momentary contact will only produce one copy,” Battery said, causing him to relax a bit, which was a mistake. “But, she can make as many as she wants of those inside her.”

  Dear god.

  The blue-clad hero was almost too afraid to ask, but knew that there was no avoiding it.

  “How many are there now?”

  “Nearly a hundred,” was the distressing response, “and counting.”

  “Shit.”

  There comes a point in a hero’s life when they need to make the hard choice of taking a life in order to safeguard others. This was not such a time.

  In fact, the gun-toting Star Sprangled parahuman found that this was not at all like any time she had ever experienced. The closest she could compare it to was records of Spree, a member of the Teeth, who could produce multiple versions of himself.

  Except Spree’s copies didn’t come with their own individual powers that varied to a staggering degree. The Blaster had literally lost track of how many she had already put down, and they hadn't even made it to Echidna’s location yet.

  Sounds of explosions echoed in the distance, a searing glow emanated from around the bend about 50 feet ahead, which was then followed by waves of heat that were quickly raising the ambient temperature of her surroundings. The night air was riddled with cracks from gunfire, many of which came from PRT agents who were ordered to go for lethal shots from the start.

  Travel by motorcycle was made impossible due to the corpses clogging the road, forcing her to make the rest of the way on foot. A sudden bang rang through the air, before the sound of tearing metal preceded one of Dragon’s suits spinning through the air, and crashing to the tree line below the cliff in a spectacular conflagration.

  From her elevated vantage point, Miss Militia had a full view of the surrounding landscapes. The scattered patches of groves were teeming with law enforcement personnel and clones, both sides doing their absolute best to destroy the other.

  Helicopters dot the night sky, some from various government agencies like the PRT, and others are media.

  It felt like every other minute, new capes were popping up, and it was becoming difficult to ascertain whether they were heroes or villains. The adults from New Wave came in from the south side, but were quickly diverted to hunt down a large group of clones trying to skirt the perimeter.

  And this is just the start.

  National Guard troops were already on standby due to the Tiamat incident and the presence of Seraph in the city. Mobilization began the moment Dragon reported the S-Class threat, and they would arrive in an hour.

  A barrage of lasers impacting multiple spots announced the arrival of Legend, which was then accompanied by a helical streak of light that detonated the target area. Purity has come, and the E88 is likely not far behind.

  Brockton Bay’s outskirts have well and truly become an active warzone.