Episode I: The Road to El Dorado

Part 4: Overlooking - 19.02.2018

It has been four days since the 'Iceberg'. That's how the military and PRT personnel referred to the day I fought Leviathan and froze him in a giant block of ice. Brockton Bay was also still suffering from temperatures under zero. Snow kept pouring over the night, with temperatures dropping as far as five to zero degrees Fahrenheit. Fortunately, the temperature rose to almost thirty degrees when the sun was out, which made living slightly more bearable.

Needless to say, the PRT base, as well as most of the Bay's infrastructure, wasn't ready to face these climate conditions. Although you could survive the night with a few heaters and enough sheets (or one good edredon), leaving the bed was much harder. There were still few winter clothes available to supply everyone, and civilians had been given priority over common staff, even if they are in the army or PRT. Soldiers, however, were fully geared. At least, we had a few tinkers such as Armsmaster and Kid Win doing what they could to help with better heating systems, as well as someone called Dragon.

However, there was one good way to heat yourself up I had uncovered recently. It had been one of the few positive outcomes of being obligated to spend every day since I woke up in the PRT training arena. I have been sweating myself hours on end in the hopes of either getting a response from my powers, or at least to prepare me a bit before venturing into Nilbog's self-proclaimed Kingdom.

Funny thing is that I hadn't liked the idea much in the beginning. I wasn't exactly athletic, and I was still feeling terrible from just the general state of my life. My nights would be spent in nostalgia of simpler and happier times, which was pretty much the last ten years of my life until the Iceberg. However, I had found comfort in tiring the crap out of myself, which also helped in getting my sleep was increasingly deeper. My nightmares of last night were already much better than the first.

And here I was, in the training arena in a designated corner where no one else could interfere, unless specifically allowed. At first, I there had been a bit of a crowd the first time I had set foot in here, but now it was empty. After three days, everyone here must know already that my powers aren't… activated on command, per say. That's right. Three days of 'training', and nothing. Korra moved buildings, froze entire water deposits under the city, and had an unparallel control over metal structures. Well, at least I had been thought basic first-aid in the meantime.

Power-related, however, I couldn't do anything. I tried to place my footing as had in some of my memories, and emulated her posture as well as I could, but there was something missing. Actually, that is an understatement. There was a lot missing. Looking back at the few interactions I had with her, it was clear that the both of us had very different sets, not just of belief, but of knowledge. I knew nothing I should know from her point of view, and that was very worrying.

Knowledge, or a fact to be more specific, if true, must be so in any frame of reference. I wondered during my past night, for a brief second when I allowed myself to dwell in my fears, that perhaps the rules between our universes were sufficiently different that I wouldn't be able to control the elements as she did. Of course, there were some holes there. According to her, I did fit her reality of myself being her future life, and I did speak with a person who claimed to be me before I was born, but what if that's where the similarities stopped? What if I was dependent on her to use my abilities? What if, by myself, I was useless?

I had seen a glimpse of her world, and spirituality was widely understood as not just a philosophical concept, but as a concrete part of life. Here, on my Earth, it was but treated as part of a backwater group of dead protosciences, at best. At worst, it was just stuff monks who lived in mountains in poverty held on to give meaning to their lives. A cruel depiction, something I would never say out loud, but nevertheless real for most people in the West, as well as to a lot in Asia.

What if spirituality in my planet wasn't able to be expressed as Korra's is able? Her person was definitely capable, but if souls are truly a thing, than mine could very well be bottlenecking my powers. An analogy for my worries would be that no matter good a wine can be, serve it in a trash can and drink from it, and you will probably vomit. I was the trash can, and Korra (or Raava) was the wine. Follow my point?

I shook my head. These sorts of thoughts were unproductive during my physical sessions, and I forced them out by focusing on my memories. I visualized Korra's stance as she sank herself and Taylor down into the dirt in order to feel the water deposits. The way she had bent her knees and lowered the center of gravity of my body. How her arms, or mine, had been both rigid and flexible as she controlled every inch of rock and dirt that she needed. I closed my eyes.

"I see you are still valiantly trying." I heard his voice from behind, recognizing it to be Armsmaster's modulated tone. Still, I didn't face him, focused as I had managed to become.

I searched within me for any specter of an answer, for any source of inspiration that could be the driving force that would allow me to uncover Korra's technique.

"We have to talk." Armsmaster continued.

Oh boy, I knew what this was about, and knowing it made me loose whatever cool I had gathered. Losing my form, I simply turned to him. He was armored just as always, completely covered by armor.

I made my best to anticipate him. "I did try to look for you afterwards, but you were never in base."

"I know." A simple, and therefore surprising answer. "It doesn't change the fact we need to put things in order."

I nodded, but still, there were better places to talk. "Isn't there a better time?"

"From now on, not with due privacy."

I understood what he meant. Living under the management of the army and government was certainly suffocating, and whatever Armsmaster wanted to tell me was probably something he didn't want others to hear. We were still pretty much two unknowns to each other, and I doubted he trusted me, but since we were together on an improbable mission, we were bound to need to talk privately about some things.

"Do you understand that exchanging Alexandria for Skitter isn't exactly the soundest of the arrangements?" he asked me, and I believe he didn't expected an immediate answer from me.

Well, I had been wanting to talk to him before about this, so it's not like I was unprepared.

"I perfectly do." I told him firmly, my eyes on his visor.

I think he sighed, since his head was entirely covered by his helmet. "You didn't even look for other parahumans. I know the Triumvirate is unavailable, but the PRT has a good collection of capable heroes that you simply skipped. What's the idea, James?"

Before I answered, I saw a few of cadets on the other side of the arena staring at us. The feeling was uncomfortable, and I tried to resume my form from before Armsmaster had arrived as I answered him. I think Armsmaster realized what had happened, since the volume of his voice came substantially lower afterwards.

"We are not going to fight Nilbog, and after being refused Alexandria, I realized that wasn't a bad thing." I explained as I bent my arms just as Korra did, "By not bringing the big cannons, there's less of a chance of antagonizing him. He also gains nothing by capturing a girl with no family, and probably no friends. Furthermore, due to her recent status of a villain, she is literally worthless to him as a hostage. No one in the PRT would give a damn if she would become a casualty."

Armsmaster took his time, and I felt like my answer hadn't been what he expected. "Is that really what you think?"

His toneless question made it hard for me to understand his thoughts. Was he disappointed at how cold I had just been? Was he relieved that I was actually thinking about the mission and its success? The more I dwelled on those questions, the more seconds passed before I answered his inquire, the more my brain thought about what I, James thought.

No. I didn't think she was just a pawn. In fact, I strongly opposed that view.

"What I just said is a worst-case scenario. I do think of her as capable. She was the only person who stood with me against Leviathan, after many had given up, and her powers are fucking bug control. And yet, she stood her ground and used her abilities as best as she could. At the very least, she is resourceful—"

"Which is exactly why she was named 'Skitter'." Armsmaster interjected, and if not for the modulated voice, I know he would sound a lot less calm. "I was actually slightly relieved at how pragmatic your answer had been before, even if by many considered cold and harsh. But you trust her, and that is dangerous, James. You can't make that mistake. There's no proof whatsoever of the kind of person she really is outside of the Undersiders. Even if she started as a spy, by the end of her supposed mission, you can't know if she is the same as the girl she had been before."

I shook my head. "That's not on what I'm banking."

"Excuse me?"

"She was ready to give her life to destroy Leviathan, just like many have been before. No matter her status or predisposition, whether she is a hero or a villain, she was ready to sacrifice herself to kill that monster. Nilbog isn't a new situation with different variables. We can still predict her. This is still about killing Leviathan, and therefore, if she was ready to sacrifice herself before, I see no reason for her to change her behavior now."

"Really? No reason?" He asked me, and I blinked. "She fought Leviathan believing she was protecting her father. Now he is dead. Tell me, James, why do you think she has accepted?" I didn't answer him. "The girl wants revenge, and I'm afraid that she might do something absolutely stupid that could jeopardize the mission. She had done it before, after all."

I felt silly. That was a sizable hole in my reasoning. Nevertheless, now that I thought about it, it did beg one question. "If you are worried about her, then how come you aren't worried about me going for the same reason?"

Armsmaster didn't even hesitate. "Because you are craven, James, which is to be expected from most people who go through what you've gone. You may have fooled yourself, but I and everyone else here knows you are forcing yourself because everyone expects you to at least try. If you can really kill Leviathan, it would be inexcusable to run away. But if you had your way, if Nilbog had never told us about your so-called potential, you wouldn't be here if you could. During the first day, you were high on your emotions, and meeting Nilbog's envoy was also a stressful experience. However, since then, you've grown quieter and increasingly uncomfortable. I'm sure you are angry with life, but your current way of showing it is through resignation.

"You've done little." Armsmaster shook his head, "You follow the workouts not for the mission, but to escape from reality. It's obvious that you can't use your powers, and yet, here you are wasting time instead of practicing on something useful. I know you refused to take lessons on firearms, James. Your so-called attempts at finding me are equally lacking in any purpose. You've looked for me exactly during my patrol shifts.

"Do you understand the sort of outlook you are giving to everyone else around you? You are desperate to have someone wake you from reality, and tell you it was just a bad dream. You have been begging me to come here, tell you that I found Skitter unacceptable, that I was out, and eventually, you probably hoped they would simply cancel the mission since no one wants to risk their heads for a kid that, for all effects, is probably powerless."

I looked away. Maybe, just maybe, I hoped for someone to just call an end to this bullshit just like Armsmaster had spelled out. I mean, I couldn't really be the one to give up, right? Because if I had a key to destroy Leviathan, than I had to try. I disagreed with Armsmaster, that I was doing this merely for something like pressure from others. I did want some sort of revenge on Leviathan, but as the nights passed, my nightmares reminded me of the terror I felt during the battle. I knew I had a responsibility to face the Endbringer again, since my life was but a spec of dust in the world. Billions of lives were more important than just mine by pure quantity. I just didn't get a hold of myself to voice that because my head was ringing with a truth I did agree with.

I was a coward. I wasn't a hero and I had told Korra that much. It was a fault I was painfully aware. During the whole fight with Leviathan, if Korra had given me even the slightest control over myself, I would've run away.

"You are not the first kid I work with, and definitely not the first civilian." Armsmaster said, just adding salt to the wound. And I couldn't really refute him. I didn't have the strength. "No one expects much from you right now, kid."

"Why did you offer yourself, then?" I mumbled.

"If Nilbog really is telling the truth, even for a slim chance, then I can't help but do my best to see this through the end. On the way, of course, this does helps me get back at some wrongs I committed. The point is, you don't have to worry. Our interests align. I will bring you in and out of this nightmare in one piece, and for that I'm actually counting on you not getting in my way, so just stay still and behave. I will just ask you to not, in anyway, further sabotage this operation. Do you understand?"

I nodded once, words cluttered on my throat, but nothing came out. Armsmaster toneless voice only made me feel worse. What else was I supposed to do? I wanted to refute him, but his points were weighting over my shoulders. From his point of view, what had I done the past few days other than recruit a former villain with somewhat useless power?

"And just to be clear. I hope you are happy with Skitter on the team, because if anything happens to her… well, you were right about something. I and no one in the PRT couldn't give a damn. You, solely, are the mission. Bringing someone as inexperienced as her along is your doing. Congratulations."

The change of focus from me to someone else eased my chest, and finally I was able to get some words out of my chest. "At the end of the day, she chose to come. I didn't make her do it."

Armsmaster crossed his arms. I felt his exasperation, "Cut that line of thought, James. This is how this conversation began. She's in it for herself, and her inexperience is exactly what I'm warning you about. Don't trust her."

We made to depart at dawn of the sixth day after the Iceberg, and like every other day, it was cold as fuck. The first thing I did after waking up was take a shower, and I made sure to enjoy every second of what could be my last hot bath. I stood quiet under the falling water, which dripped from my head over to my shoulders. I watched the transparent liquid run over my skin, using its dance over the few curves a man's body has as a way to forget my stressful night. I had barely slept, and yet, I felt incredible awake.

It was even nostalgic. I had felt somewhat like this before one of my finals in Junior High School, which had been just last year. Funny how now I had a completely different reason, one that would be unbelievable to me back then.

I had mulled over during the last couple of days Armsmaster's words. They had hit a good number of points that I couldn't deny, but the more I went through them, the less I was particularly worried about his worries. I recognized that being a hero was a job, and just because you are putting your life on the line regularly, it doesn't make it acceptable to run risks that could be avoided. Furthermore, Armsmaster is, no matter what I might try to say, someone who's willing to come with me in this mess when no one else believes to be worth it. And then, from his point of view, after offering his hand to help me he sees me choosing Skitter, an action he believes to be monumentally stupid, and I understood him. I found myself agreeing that she couldn't be trusted like other heroes, even if she had been very noble during the fight against Leviathan. However, I couldn't stop wondering if Nilbog somehow knew that I would be tempted to trust someone to come with me. Was he betting on it? Was he aware of my willingness to trust a former villain?

Nilbog was a madman, but even madmen follow a certain reasoning. I had to trust that, or else this mission made absolutely no sense. He wanted to talk to me, teach me a way to kill one of the most powerful creatures of our time, and bringing heroes that could threaten him was a move too bold to risk. Something else that I had gone through was making sense of his offer to allow escorts. Reports believe that, inside his own Kingdom, Nilbog is probably untouchable. To allow me to bring any one, no matter how threatening, indicates a tremendous level of assurance and certainty about oneself.

But he never said anything about bringing someone powerful. Just someone that made me feel safe. Was this a test? I recognized that this trail of thought was dangerous, but I couldn't help it. He had told me to bring those I would feel safe with. Well, not specifically, but maybe he did mean it. Issue was, I understood Armsmaster. I could be making a mistake, and I would be on my guard around Taylor Hebert. She may have had my back before, but I didn't know her, and it was better to be safe than sorry.

And Nilbog, that man, if he could still be called as such, begged a series of questions. One that bothered many was how could Nilbog know of a way to destroy the Endbringers? How could he have hidden such an ability after so long? Why wait until now? And even though many would've preferred to dismiss the words of a lunatic, the fact that this lunatic is an S-Class threat made it impossible.

After the shower, I was taken to be dressed by the latest armor they had come up for me. The size wasn't exactly mine, but it was close enough. They had told me a good number of mumbo jumbo words about the capabilities of this suit, but all I knew was that it would protect me of blunt attacks of up to 16g times my body mass, and it would resist cuts from weapons almost as precise as Armsmaster's Halberd. I also had a helmet that would protect me of most poisonous gasses, thought it did seem much more like a motorbike helmet than proper tinker equipment. I couldn't come up with any of this shit though, so it's not like I could complain. I will take what I can, thank you very much.

The first of my escorts that I saw was Taylor. She wore her suit, the one she had used against Leviathan, though it seemed reinforced in the vital areas by the same materials on my armor. She hadn't put her mask yet, though.

I tried to smile, but that didn't work out due to my helmet. As I noticed her lack of response, I instead nodded, and she nodded back. Afterwards, both of us were directed to the garage, where two armored cars were waiting, along with a truck.

The trip was too quick, though that may have been my anxiety, which compressed time as my nervousness rose by leaps and bounds. I didn't share a word with the girl that had risked her life to help me, but neither did she. It was clear that both of us were in the edge. When I had finally managed to muster some will to open my mouth, to ask her why, in the end, she had accepted, we arrived.

We were at an airstrip in the outskirts of Brockton Bay, and although the sky already had a shade of light blue over the horizon, the sun still wasn't out. The landscape was covered in snow, thought the runway and taxiways were clean to allow traffic. The truck came to a full stop inside a hangar, and right in front of us on the outside, two helicopters already had their engines ready.

I set my feet on the ground, now out of the armored car, and made to one of the helicopters together with Taylor and some PRT/Army staff. There, I found the familiar face of General Hammock, Director Costa-Brown, as well as a couple of others, but only one I could recognize.

The woman on a suit. The same one from back in the day Armsmaster brought me from the Hospital. She had sat on the same car as us, but didn't say a word on our entire trip. Not like that meant anything, since no one spoke much back then. The fourth face, however, I had no idea who that was.

General Hammock placed a hand over my shoulder. "How you feeling boy?"

There was only one answer for that question. "Ready, sir."

The General nodded, looked over at Skitter, and finally, looked over our shoulders. I heard the heavy steps of an armored walk and I turned, finding Armsmaster equipped and ready, a halberd in his hands. I didn't really know what it was capable of, but I knew he had spent a good portion of his time optimizing it before our wonderful winter trip. His suit didn't seem like it had changed.

"Armsmaster. Good to see you." The General spoke.

"Likewise." The tinker answered.

"Rebecca, if you please." Hammock turned and faced the Director, who approached us immediately. She seemed slightly agitated.

"Lady and gentlemen," the director told the three of us, "Follow me into the Heli. You will be briefed during the trip."

As soon as the doors of the Helicopter closed, we were up in no time. The aircraft was divided into two compartments. The pilots were in the first, while Costa-Brown was sitting at one side on the second compartment and Armsmaster, Taylor and me were facing her on the other side.

"You will be dropped directly south from Nilbog's HQ, at the minimum distance he requested. Follow the road north and there's no mistake." The director started. "It is currently advisable to reach your target destination before 1500, since there's a snow storm incoming. If you fail to reach the 30 mile mark before 1200, it is advisable to stop at an abandoned complex around the 37 mile, which can serve as shelter for the night. You are to resume your trip the next day."

The fact that were going to walk 50 miles during a snowstorm wasn't a nice thought.

"How cold?" I asked.

Costa-Brown seemed unhappy with her answer herself. "Expect a max of 8 degrees today. The night will be around -5, however. Yours and Skitter's armor should protect you from hypothermia, but it will still be a cold night. The second helicopter is bringing a few supplies for you to make the night, if needed, more bearable. If you arrive at Nilbog still today, then follow his instructions at your discretion. It not exactly easy to plan in advance against that man." She said while she took out her phone and pressed a few clicks on her screen. "Armsmaster, you should've received a package."

The tinker didn't move for a second, probably analyzing whatever the Director had just delivered. "These are contingency plans. Wouldn't it have been better to give me this earlier? So I could've properly studied them?" His voice was clearly unmodulated, since his anger was obvious.

Director merely shrugged. "There's a spy among us, Armsmaster. Some plans here, for them to have even the slightest chance of making a difference, require complete ignorance from Nilbog related to a few holes in his defense."

There a short silence afterwards. A spying working for Nilbog had dire implications, and I think all three of us were caught off guard. Wait, was it okay for us to know that? And if so, why?

The next to speak was Skitter. She already had her mask, or better, a helmet, much like mine. "How do we know those are actual holes?"

The Director frowned. "We don't."

By the digital clock on my visor, it had taken us 50 minutes to reach our drop off point. By the time we arrived, the sun was already out but the sky was completely covered by thick and dark clouds.

The helicopters landed right before a checkpoint on a wide, only half used highway. One side, the abandoned, was white, while the other was wet thanks to the salt melting the snow. Made sense, since a large area around Ellisburg had been completely quarantined, and it wasn't in the interest of the soldiers to salt a place no one used. Sacks of sand and blocks of concrete helped in marking the divide between the 'in' and 'out', with two steel towers overlooking the area which was probably, from my ignorant guess, used by snipers. A couple of military cars, as well as a truck, were stationed there too. Further behind the barrier, two buildings had also been setup right over the concrete.

If I had to guess, the checkpoint had at least 20 soldiers around the visible infrastructure. I wondered for a second whether they had tunnels, before I was handed a large backpack. Costa-Brown informed us of our supplies. We had medical equipment, a few construction tools like wrenches, screws, aluminum rods, lighters, a couple of knifes, a spoon, and canned food. Taylor also got a large glass container with insects, specifically chosen for this mission by a few specialists. I didn't recognize most of the names, and the ones I did, I knew to be dangerous. The girl, however, seemed to know about every single species. As long as bug girl understood, we would be fine. Armsmaster had also received some electric equipment. I'm not sure what the tinker would get to do during the mission that he couldn't before, but better to be safe than sorry, right?

"James." I heard the director's voice, my eyes turning to her. She held a pistol in front of me by the gun barrel, handle turned towards me. "I know you didn't practice, but three days of training could hardly prepare you. Just don't point it to your escorts, or yourself, and you are good to go." She then turned the gun slightly, gesturing to certain parts of the pistol. "here you unlock or lock, up/down, keep your finger out of the trigger if you aren't ready to shoot, and only be ready to shoot when have your aim on you enemy. To reload, just do it like this. You have other two loaded magazines in your backpack."

Costa-Brown directed her gaze not just to me, but to Skitter as well. "Both of you are to obey Armsmaster's orders without questioning. Do you understand?"

Both of us nodded.

"We've had this conversation already Taylor, and I will ask you again: do you have any questions or concerns?"

I looked at Taylor, or Skitter, since she wore her costume fully. I saw the younger girl nod. "Nothing director."

"James," the director said next, "your gun is to be used expressively in self-defense. We believe you can follow those directions, reason why we are handing it to you. Can you confirm that?"

"Yes." I answered resolutely. I was sure of my answer, because the weight of that gun in my hands was too much. They knew I had an aversion to it and expected me to only pull it out if I really needed.

"Then I expect you two to fully understand ours and Armsmaster's instructions."

Finally, she exchanged one last look with Armsmaster. Words, though unspoken, were exchanged.

Now it was her turn to nod. "Very well. Good luck you three."

The gates were open, and we crossed the checkpoint. The snow felt thick under my boots, but walking wasn't a problem, at least not yet.

I looked over my shoulder after a good few steps and saw the towers getting progressively smaller. Eventually, we set into a formation, with Skitter a few steps ahead of us to my right. She had set some insects around us in a perimeter, and she was responsible for scouting ahead just in case, as well as keeping an eye on the forests around the highway. Armsmaster was on my left, closer to me than Skitter, but still also a couple of steps behind. They had a certain level of synchrony that made me suspect they had either been instructed and/or discussed amongst themselves on tactics. It had to be, for neither had said a word to each other for the whole day.

The tinker seemed to be walking alright, but Skitter seemed more visibly annoyed at the ice under her feet. I suppose neither of us were used to these conditions.

Looking at them besides me reminded me of the last time I had parahumans in the same position, and since such involves Leviathan, those weren't nice memories.

Hoping to forget that trail of thought, I looked down. Some parts of the asphalt weren't covered by snow, and you could see what was underneath all the white. The highway was clearly lacking in maintenance. There were already plants from within its cracks, and the paint had been erased by the weather.

Believe it or not, that much of our walk for the first couple of hours. An empty highway surrounded by untended forests, three individuals walking carefully but with purpose, and a carpet of ice as far as the eye could see.

AN: Follows discussion about the story. Has spoilers! (not many, but still…)

First, I guarantee you that Nilbog shows up next chapter. I wanted to get him in this one, but I reached 5k words before I got close enough. Don't want chapter getting to big. Scares away some readers. Since this story is already about an OC, I don't need to sabotage myself more than that.

Second, the conversation with Armsmaster may come to change. The big point I'm trying to make is the necessity James has of understanding his surroundings, how his actions impact those around, but I understand that it may feel out of place. James hasn't from his point of view behaved in a cowardly fashion. He has gone through a lot, and is still relatively standing despite all. Of course, we know him as a protagonist, so we have some high expectations for him that characters in the story don't, as well as a privileged point of view over his thoughts.

That, however, also hinders our perception of what is happening around us. James is biased towards himself, like everyone is to a certain point. He misses clues that, if we were watching a movie, some of us would pick up. Since I'm also not a good writer, including certain details without calling attention to them is a bit out of my reach. I do try, though.

Problem for James is, everyone in this story is stressed, borderline exploding. Something that I haven't been able to cover yet is how much friction there is going on between the PRT and the Army/Intelligence Agencies.

I've tried to hint at it with Costa-Brown having more screen time here than in any other worm fanfic (at least the average). This shouldn't be normal. Something I feel like is important to say too, which isn't spoilery, is that before talking with James, Armsmaster had a heated discussion with numerous officials, both from the government and from the PRT. He is one of the characters currently squeezed the most between the big factions due to his fuck up against Leviathan (announcing the death of parahumans before it actually happened).

Third, for those unsure: yes, Skitter and Armsmaster had their shouting match, albeit not the same as cannon. That is pretty much the last event in this story where I'm not making up something original.

I hope this gives you all some insight I couldn't find a way to yet insert in the story more drastically.