A heavy rumble deadened down to persistent noise. Quiet tension being smothered by it, enforcing almost. Metal rattling stared at intently, glared at as a break in the common courtesy. The common sense not to make this harder than it already was. Patrol runs during lunch always brought out the worst in people. So it was just better not to exacerbate it, ya know?

The sparse metal container they called a Sparrow didn't help the grumble. Defeated duel jet wash and turbulence hits just keeping things civil. Jumper seats little more than cloth sewn over tubes bouncing with every stray gust and "easy" bank. Strapped in packs and equipment jostling with less butts to keep them still. Not that they had brought much along with them.

Michele only ever had his helmet, though it had to be mandated or else he'd go without it again. Hardtack CommNet connections took precedent over feeling the wind in your hair.

Jess and Tess didn't need anything, let alone the ride along, but that was set in stone as well. Can't have a team if two members just fly off on their own. And the jealous looks from Michele weren't helping. He chose to be front line, and that means you need some armor.

Rehka didn't have anything either, but just sitting next to her brought out even worse things in people. Even though all she ever did was sit back, smile, and sway to the wind.

And Callah… Well she gets away with rattling up a storm since all she does is stand in the middle of the bay. And try too hard to keep still out of spite.

Leaving just poor Josh to receive all the ire for killing the quiet, as his own armor chafing and clanging together with each sudden rise and fall. Causing him to retreat further and further into it till the too warm aura from Rehka was just a distant lack of personal space.

Their third patrol together. Third since graduating, since becoming actual official heroes. And already they were straining. Already Michele's refusal to wear a shirt and stop flexing every minute was putting them off. Already Jess and Tess's want of nothing from them was making relations cold. Colder than if it was just Tess. Rehka got on everyone's nerves, but that was just her power's fault. Still didn't help that if she wasn't trying to start a fight she was doing a whole lot of nothing. And Callah, the supposed leader here, just tried to keep stoic about all of it. Even though she couldn't keep that up for more than an hour. Meaning Josh was the only one that seemed to have any sense of courtesy, of comradery. The only team player and so the one caught in the middle of it all. Having to catch every stray shot fired…

As if things weren't bad enough for him already.

And of course Rehka had to ask… Yet again.

"Soooo… any luck?"

"Hugghhh!"

Her whisper wasn't low in the slightest, so all that tension swiftly coiled around him like her already pressing arm. As she jostled him for answers he didn't have.

"No. My sister isn't open for sparring, especially with you. So stop asking."

"Aw come on. We both got to see what she did to that old simulation. So what's a little fight between girls going to do?"

"Blow a hole in the training gym's roof… Again."

"Yeah, but how else is she going to-"

"Reh! Enough!"

For once, Callah's stoicism was a godsend. Though neither could see the other through their armored helmets, they both knew better than to bring stuff like this back up. The hollow of his full plate hide away feeling more like a shallow gulf than a blocked out view. C.A.S.P.E.R. nodes emphatically dim and opaque so he could look up in appreciation. Even if neither could 'see' the other. This was how she broke more often than not, to defend him from the worst. Could still stand to intervene a little soon but-

*bepbep*

Those nodes lit back up to full holo luminance as if listening in on his brooding, heads up displays demanding actual attention despite the former accommodation. A scrawl of terms rising from the lower right a precursor to full calculations as to what was ahead of them.

Shots fire //

Disturbance //

Intersection of 40th and South Raffle nearest node //

SymOvert diminished in vicinity //

Calculating… //

Inconclusive involvement //

KMPD Patrol routed for clarity //

Recommendation: Please stand by

"AS IF!!!"

Josh's spine shot up straight, hands immediately locking to the frame of his seat like everyone else's. Even Callah surged forward to grab the hand rails just before the cockpit. All eyes that didn't have a helmet or visor on were immediately covered and pressing hard into brace positions. This was their third patrol as a team.

And they already knew their pilot was a fucking lunatic!

A breath in the dark. A sigh from within. Another to ease and ebb. To allow for calm. For a deep concession for the passage of time. And a small regret to form in place of the former fire. A regret for laying all the blame presented onto a bunch of idiots compensating just a little too hard. Because they couldn't have done all of this.

Guns and girls and fancy clothes were just trying to fill in for being on the bottom floor. Stuck in the shadow of a city seemingly built overtop of them and feeling the indignity of it all. Or just carving out a niche from other people's destitute lives. Whatever their motives or modus operandi, they had squirreled away power they most definitely didn't deserve. And yet still saw it as something more substantial, usable. Every piece thrumming in Seth's hand as he gingerly placed them into a 'borrowed' backpack. Its old contents just some bundled cash and false ids. A bug out bag repurposed as urn for the fallen. The broken. The... tattered...

'Aaahhh, shit. I forgot to weave this suit.'

Little more than a few scraps of hanging cling and distastefully holed pants, the cryo suit wasn't going to offer much coverage and comfort anymore. Let along shame. But at least he was in the right place to replace. Though the style wasn't really his idea of fashion. Thin undershirts, heavy jackets of vinyl and… kevlar? Silk underwear.

'Because of course.'

A lot of tight pants but a size up from his. Some running shoes he could accept, though their disuse was apparent. A settled for set to at least look unaligned with this faction. Though no one would be caught dead wearing a Hawaiian shirt in just the day to day, it was the only normal thing this boss had to offer up as conciliation. Dark pants and a thankfully opaque silk shirt closing things out. Not quite a new disguise, but it was time to go back out into the world. And see how things have gotten on in his absence. While not falling from several thousand feet.

Seth thumbed the cash stacks he'd replaced as he made his way to the stairs, an odd texture to them but still legal tender he'd dealt with. Though it was a little funny to see General Advance on the $50 note. A nice bit of spending cash stuffed back into a side pocket of his accepted and burdened reparation. Pack slung over his neck just to keep it at hand. A hand already reaching back to it as he started clacking over stained and bullet ridden tiles. A small comfort hoped to still be there, undisturbed and unweathered.

That visage, freed of its full helmet, top plate and jagged teeth just there enough to get him into the monster masquerade. The resonance in it a discord of other's songs, not quite blending with his own still deep within. The death that imparted it so overtly clear and yet so unequally blurred in the mess. Those different tones highlighted in carved in energy, faced with all gusto as he placed the piece over his face. As he looked to that scrawled goodbye Speaker left for him so long ago now.

The words resounding off like a recording made of thread, like a true robust memory tied up in all that coopted electron cordage. "We believe in you" so loud it was like they never left him in the first place. Tinging this moment better with more reminiscence he'd sorely needed. The clacks disappearing in the replay of that smiling crowd come to greet him into his own head. The pride pouring off that golden pillar Speaker called a form. The joy wrapping around his head as Threat hugged him like a long lost brother. The outpouring of so much compassion and relief that they had someone to save them from their fate. That they had someone to share their burden with. But that discord rounding back, those differences sowing disharmony in the face of what he wanted.

A new guilt and regret. He'd allowed too much to happen without him. Someone else had coveted his power and used it. Undid who knows how much of what he'd literally died for. Their fractured existence still spread thin across his own. Like a new Resent with even less ability to handle what they went through. Their tone intermittent, still holding memories in flashes. More stark rooms like before, just with less oppression over and more focus under. An old life maybe, but the blood didn't make it better. A doctor? Too hard to tell, thoughts attuned so mangled they were more like noise. Someone wanting what he'd given out. Wanting more. And wanting for it all to-

"HALT!!!"

The clacking stopped as a megaphone echoed through the broken open promenade. The light of the outside world risen to a cool drab shine. A squinting adjustment clearing up what Seth had ignored. The layers of concrete and metal built up into more recent facades for their old style brickwork, more mundane signage and residential placement stacking just short of the megalophobic horizon, the growing patter of society coming out of pause everywhere but here. And the pair police cars come to investigate the senseless barrage of gunfire he'd... kinda provoked.

The same paint scheme and heraldry, a slimmed down crest plastered to their doors, but a new M added on. Kadia Metroplex Police Department. The car in question definitely heftier in beef than he remembered. More armor all over, what looked like the tires off a UTAH, and yet plenty of armor to spare for their contents as well. Three uniforms flakked and stacked up behind their vehicles. New shiny plastics replacing the kevlar and metal, molded for style over militarism. Just shy of a half plate knight with more color differential and more harness straps. Red and blue stripes on their pauldrons respective, with a darker blue base over white detail. Easily seen and looked to, but definitely in over their helmeted heads.

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The same material but visored instead of slatted. Failing the knightly motif, and failing hard to hide one's mounting regret at responding. Guns of more singular make pointing at Seth with varying degrees of duress and hard glare. Small rails and smaller buzzing electrics locked in their trained positions, lethal and non in one. And not seeming to fare well against what they were against.

The light of this freed day spilling over this mask, showing them a vision of terror only two thirds seemed ready to take on. The last a little too similar to what had just been broken up. Something of a theme emerging, driving that one down off their hesitancy, yet the others to an even harder gruff.

"DO NOT MOVE!!!"

Inbuilt microphone blaring a harsh voice through their car's sirens. Drawing back an ill wanted ire, and Seth's half full attention so that third could radio for-

"Backup!! We need backup! Ugh… 9000 block of 40th! Send immediate League CST! I repeat, we need super support!! We have a Rage Cultist on-"

*CkrrrAASSHHHhhhhh*

"You have a what… now…?"

That moment, that almost acceptance of vested authority, of just letting the call go out because all he'd done was break up some thugs.

All of that faltered hard.

Perception cutting in at just an utterance, overriding and overdriving. Causing a step to pulverize tile and hurtle him across the standoff. And put a new running shoe straight through the hood of this unfortunate guy's car. Though half an inch of metal and ceramic right through to the block beneath. Sparking as centralized batteries were rent and drained dry by sheer proximity to this seethe. And bent a little further off kilter as that visage of terror resurgent leaned down to meet that visor proper. And allow them a better taste of what they just caused.

Blood drained as masked eyes met, composure collapsing back hard in an unwitting reflected glow. A scramble across the asphalt already dictated before Seth could even come out the sudden onset overdrive. Pressing too hard and causing the flighty to fight back. Redraw that hand railgun in desperate need to stay alive.

'Hggrrr… There I go overdoing it again.'

That buried foot ripped free in screeching refuting, whipped out as sights were just shy. Emptying this cops hand before his fear got the better of him, these clothes were expensive after all. The smooth motion twirling Seth back to the crowded asphalt, letting the disarmed officer think things through. In the burst of chunked road clattering over his helmet, as the source of his fear suddenly tore toward the rest of this ill-fated patrol.

The other running shoes scrapping alongside the officer thinking barked orders meant anything. Finding himself stopped mid swivel with that dreaded mask far too close, and a hand around his arm dragging him along. All his momentum co-opted, mask flexing back as the world span around, and his still standing partner coming into Seth's sights. With a face full of plastic and refuted authority oncoming. Along with the better outcome to this short interaction.

"Sorry!"

Seth straightened up off his inertia as the clank and clack of armor on asphalt bounced away. Still connected siren grunting and buzzing out as they rolled and conked out.

"But you guys really need to calm down a little!"

The clear lack of an audience ahead turning him back around to the puddle of a narc left stuck in his emptied stance. Eyes still shaded but hard locked up to the sky.

"You're gonna die of a heart attack without me even lifting a finger!"

A hand gesticulating as an aligning step back brought him next to the other car's wheel well. And hammered down through that self-contained propulsion. Thread hardened and focused in, metal unprepared to get smashed into discharging scrap. And disregarded as just necessary sabotage enacted, because that more pressing question still needing a straight answer.

"And I still need to know just what the hell is-"

Seth's quib was cut short as a shadow blotted out the clearer horizon ahead. A sudden menacing shape over the light. Rounding a far corner and burning down from the skyline against the half risen sun. A new frame of bulk and purpose, stubby wings pivoting fat body about, but still clearly a VTOL to navigate this future in seriously aggressive fashion. Whatever a CST was seemed to be here. A little way too quickly. The call still fresh off the receiver and yet they were b-lining straight toward him. Whatever this 'cult' was, it demanded immediate 'suppression'. And… and he'd just gotten identified as the target for this 'team'.

'Well that's one answer…'

And he said League didn't he? So discretion quickly became the better part of standing around like he wanted this fight. Like being dead for however long he'd managed wasn't just the rather nice reset he wanted.

Those reawakening muscles begrudgingly found their better means of stretching off residual atrophy. Power pooling and sights rounding and tracking exactly what Seth needed. The thorough rumble growing closer, but some things needed to be done right. As all the power he had on hand filtered down to just what was acceptable. And that wet asphalt became one more necessary back blast. All to meet that metal coping once again, and leave whoever got lucky on the deploy in the dust.

This city, even in its new grander state, still had need of its heroes. And they still needed to beat the traffic. A hand slammed home onto the side of the red and yellow slab looming over, latching on to the long contiguous rail marking its lower tenth. A thankful lack of weight not bending it out of shape, but still friction and velocity required a harder hand than he had at the moment. Those already beaten in running shoes getting way more than they expected as Seth charged across this existentially confining wall. The curtains of downpouring clouds beyond blocking away the world, but what mattered was distance not destination. As the wind against his face decried his opening throttle.

A cross street and a sudden unlatching, concrete cracking as the rapid change in direction shot Seth away. Short roofs, like mushroom colonies gathered below their central massive stalks, caught him as a new avenue was run down. Sparks from impacted coping petering out to a smooth sprint and bound. Old bricks and new facades mixed with absorbent roofing and aging hardtack insolation. And the echo of that still closing drone.

A quick glance and mountainous regret, as that new bulked up frame banking hard off his sudden corner. Jets scorching across the central stalk avoiding all but a g load in the double digits! Clear crystal canopy allowing a maniacal smile out to rival his own act. As bodies were tossed around the cabin behind it. This pilot was enjoying this way too much, and looking like they were the first to take a crack at him. Side ports on the chin pulled back and tracked, a faint laser painting as they leveled out. Even without the sensors in his head, Seth could feel it crawl up to his wind eddied back. And could see the ordinance come out to play.

A hanged step and a slam down to jump hard, just as a net raked in static audacity fired out and closed around nothing but coping. Magnets latching and arcing their payloads down the rail. The flipping drag rolling Seth over to face this unknowing insult, meeting challenge across their helmet visor more specialized. Catching ire on faces darkened and tumble dried within, before rounding fully and marking this pursuit up a new notch. In buckled rail and shattered façade.

A buffeting acceleration, floral orange drag chute and hundred pounds of scrap on his back nothing more than training weights already overtaken. Furious step after step denting protections and sending concrete fluff scattering to the street below. A thankfully still empty street, given the hazard lights rising just as fast as Seth could move. Without ending up walking it barefoot anywa-

'Gaahh Again?!'

He growled at himself for forgetting to weave these new clothes as well. Too much in the interim and now too much distraction. The least he could do was keep these shoes from tearing apart. One heavy bound and rebound rent from the coping, lateral fling to make another turn sharp as can be. Another flip and roll with legs tucked in hard, and focus spared to spread in through cloth and plastic like his old burned away disguise.

A focus unseen, unable to be seen. Yet caught all the same. As a burn of acceleration matched his in the one moment it had waited for. Baffled droning suddenly screamed to prominence and that wild aeronautical smile careened with all intent to splatter Seth across their windshield! And all the perception in eternity couldn't redirect ballistic trajectory, just prepare to catch and hang on for dear life!

Blunt nose and hard molded glass slammed square as could be, ribs taking the brunt and buckling in overtaken velocity. Imparting and continuing to accelerate in impact, kicking the wind out and yet forcing it back over. A ragdoll figure head caught horizontal to the prow, and clawing his way upright to glare at his new nemesis.

Aerodynamic smoothness didn't lend any grip, but magnetic attraction still did what it could. Quite the sight probably from the other side, masked menace to society caught trying to go on vacation. But throwing the whole truth out there would only invalidate everything, so discretion still held sway behind his scowl. But that didn't mean he had to take being roadkill lying down. Some amount of footing was scraped up to, shoes tracking concrete all over their nice clean-

*vvvuwuwuw*

Unmagnetic surface. Running shoes have plenty of traction but they don't stick to glass. Especially at excessive air speeds.

This blunted nose could only last for so long before Seth was left to flail to the ground all over again, but his horizon wasn't as extreme this time. In fact it was pretty damn close and prepared for him. A stomp through the airframe heralding a vicious helmet rising over. Etched with fangs closing over an impenetrable black screen. Dark green fabric whipping like a cape over a substantial armored shell following in defiant advance. A motif cobbled but almost too recognizable. Yet a hell of a lot more technical, bordering on hypocritical as servos wheeled their added strength into the more fitting knightly armor. Like Erdwut had been waiting for this day to get his pride's vengeance at any cost. Just without his Eschenwald… Or his stature. Yet definitely with all the menace this reunion warranted.

A board in one hand bearing a dark green trim, more nuanced shape befitting a crested shield. But no sword in the other, but quickly remedied as their hand moved to their hip. Movements slowed by drag and methodic intent, but suddenly whipped smart as their weapon came ready. A simple handle, no guard or pommel, but that telltale flare of igniting fury. A moderate shaft exploding in a ball of spikes and fire, obsidian extrusion and magmatic action. If this wasn't a ghost then parentage was looking pretty clear. Yet they wielded wicked intent far too befitting this sudden meeting. Already stomping against the wind to cave Seth's head in. Or at least this mask's new messenger's.

No grip solid till it was too late to break off, a smoking backhand of magma morning star already swinging for the fences. And yet only etching across the top of the mask, just shy of taking it all off. A sudden pull down dodging low as can get, and pressing what little traction he had away to the slipstream. Shoes kicking for anything as the wind whirled him sideways, grip finding any edge it could, stopping him from snapping his back on the wing. But not escaping that ball of solid fire coming back down off its follow through.

A sudden lurch with all that framing edge could give just as that shaft dented in the same spot his head was at. The whole craft lurching in kind, rolling off the force and tumbling Seth back onto its windscreen. The whole nose hugged for all it had, as that whole mouth helmet glared over top, and a modulated voice broke through the rush.

"Quit moving!!"

Even with the alteration, the tone oozed fluster. Enough to say that the hammer down rising back up was way over doing it. And if they were going to flex more power in, then he would to. Just enough to get clear and have his opening. Because they weren't going to just let him make a mockery of their strength. And this craft clearly wasn't rated for sudden super heavy impacts.

A scrunch as melted rock trailed into the wind, a slip free of grip as there was no turning back, and an all fours kick off to refuse to be flattened like a damn bug! As well as all the hope in the world that this was just going to decelerate this bird, as the flash of realization hit too late to stop. That ball of molten steel and stone scathing across that broken maws bridge, and caving in the edge between canopy and airframe.

Ejecta splatter and flash fried coating sparked into the wake, harbored circuitry and control boards discharging and blaring warnings through shattering glass, and all that strength bucking the craft down into a burning over correction. Seth getting the last laugh as that pilot came back in demanded pull up. Indicators and sparks flashing over their recoiling scowl as he twisted back over. As velocity became all his own again and the ground his only true victim.

Bunching, crunching, and hitting the ground bounding. Seth tumbling direct and slamming low off his fall. Force ensconced, made sudden back blast yet again. A low flung missile of escaping narrow slither. The raucous burn and turbulent warble of the VTOL behind being rendered too slow to catch, as he rocketed down the empty street he'd conquered. Each step crunching asphalt still, but victory just too great a feeling. No long drawn out fight to risk, no discovery to be anxious about. Just open road to disappear into and walls of orange to-

"HUhh!!"

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