chapter 344

Chapter 344:

– Layla –

My swirling purple portal snapped shut behind me. I kicked off my heels as I stepped onto warm sand. Shoes on the beach were just wrong after all.

I took in the aftermath of Carol’s fight.

Lung was sprawled out like a discarded piece of trash, unconscious and half-buried in the sand. Carol stood beside him, relaxed and untouched, arms crossed over her chest like the entire battle had been a minor inconvenience. For her it had been.

Beachgoers—half of them still clutching towels or ice cream cones—were gathered in clusters around the scene, taking photos, cheering, chanting her name like she was some kind of gladiator.

"Captain Marvel! Captain Marvel! Captain Marvel!"

Yeah. My girl knew how to make a goddamn entrance—and an even better finish.

Armsmaster stood beside me, his armor plates shifting with tiny hisses as he scanned the scene. I saw the way his gaze stuck on Lung, then flicked to Carol, back to Lung, then just sort of... stalled. He looked flabbergasted. Well his body language did at the very least. This is why heroes wearing helmets was annoying because you could never see their faces.

Well... I mean I could. I definitely had X-ray vision, I just never used it because random people were gross....

[True that… That guy over there has a brown spot on his swimsuit.]

I placed my hands on my hips, stretching slightly. Today was an interesting day to be sure. And I was already mentally composing an apology to the public for the panic and property damage to this beach, but I’d deal with that later.

I smiled at Carol.

She met my eyes. Her cheeks flushed slightly.

Oh yeah. She caught that look. I bit my bottom lip, slowly and deliberately. Just a little hint of a promise. Her blush deepened. I could already tell she was thinking the same thing I was—we were going to celebrate with lots of sex tonight, and nothing was going to interrupt it.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as the wind picked up, brushing a few locks across my cheek. That was when I noticed movement from the edge of the sand.

Two girls were approaching. The taller one had bright blonde hair and a peppy grin. Her red bikini was loud and confident—she clearly wasn’t afraid to draw attention. The girl walking beside her was shorter, with red hair, a spray of freckles across her nose, and a far more modest swimsuit that looked like it was chosen by someone very aware of their own discomfort.

What really caught my eye, though, was the redhead’s face. She was blushing. Not sunburn-blushing. Not embarrassed-by-the-crowd blushing. No—this was "oh my god she’s looking at me" blushing.

Adorable! I had my own fangirl! I mean, I had a bunch of those back home, but I wasn't sure how that applied to this world yet!

She kept sneaking glances at me like she wanted to look and couldn’t stop herself but also didn’t want to be caught. Her hands kept fidgeting with the hem of her suit.

I offered a warm smile. "Hi there, you two. How’s it going? Sorry about the craziness. I didn’t mean for us to interrupt your beach day. I imagine Lung falling from the sky was probably pretty freaky..."

The blonde lit up after my rapid fire sentences. "That’s, like, totally okay, Miss CEO Layla! We weren’t expecting a dragon to fall out of the sky either, but hey, Brockton Bay, right? Weirder things have happened! Especially for us in the hero game!"

[Hero game? They do seem familiar, Host.]

She stuck out a hand. "I’m Vicky Dallon. This is my sister, Amy."

Amy and Vicky Dallon. Those names sparked something in my head. I glanced at Armsmaster. He gave a subtle nod.

"You two are Glory Girl and Panacea, right?" I asked.

"Yep!" Vicky beamed.

Amy looked like she wanted to vanish into the sand. "You’ve heard of me?" Amy asked, her voice small. Her fingers were twisted tightly in the fabric at her waist.

"You bet I have," I said, my voice softening. I looked right at her. "You’re the best healer in the entire world. You have no idea how impressed I am by everything you’ve done."

Amy blinked rapidly. Her lips parted like she was going to say something, but no words came out.

Vicky giggled. "Don’t mind Amy. She’s just shy around a celebrity."

I winked at Amy. Her blush deepened.

Father, that was cute...

We didn’t want to cause any more of a commotion, so Carol gave a small bow to the crowd—modest, but graceful. Her voice was firm but warm as she said, “Thank you, but I don’t deserve all this. I was just doing my duty.”

The crowd roared louder, people clapping, shouting her name, some even throwing up hearts with their hands. She gave them a polite nod before turning back to us and walking forward, Lung’s unconscious form slung over her shoulder like a ragdoll. She strutted right up to me, boots kicking up sand, her expression all confidence and control. Damn, she looked good like that—powerful, focused, dominant. I could eat her alive.

But later...

I snapped my fingers, and a swirling purple portal shimmered open beside me. A few more gasps and then cheers rose from the crowd.

Oh, right. Most people here didn’t know I had powers too. Not just my pretty face on the news. Well, they knew now. The livestreams alone were probably already viral.

Didn’t matter. Not like having powers was illegal in this world. Unless you were a Master. Which—okay, technically I was. But I wasn’t a fan of mind control, unless we were talking about very specific, dire situations… or consensual bedroom stuff.

Maybe…

Anyways! I stepped through first, the portal spitting me out into my office at the top of Fallcorp HQ. Carol followed behind me, still carrying Lung like he was oversized luggage. Armsmaster stepped in next, quiet and still processing whatever was running through that overly rigid mind of his.

Although he obviously wasn't as rigid as I thought, because he HAD come to try and SAVE us from Lung. That counted for something. A lot actually.

…I noticed that not a single other government hero in this town had done the same. That was some real petty shit right there, and I'm sure my sister Penemue was already scheming up a way to turn that against the PRT in the eyes of the public.

Then, just before I closed the portal, a blur of movement hopped through. Vicky and Amy. The Dallon sisters had hopped in too.

I let the portal hang open for a second longer than necessary, then sighed and waved it shut with a flick of my fingers.

Turning toward them, I gave both girls an arched brow and a slightly exasperated look. “Any reason you two decided to follow us?”

Vicky didn’t miss a beat. She was practically glowing. “This looked like way too much fun to miss! I’ve dreamed of the day someone finally stomped Lung into the dirt. I had to see where you were taking him!” She glanced over at Carol and then to me. “So, uh, what are you going to do with him?”

I smirked. “We’ve got a specially designed containment cell under HQ. There’s no chance of him escaping.” The whole thing was designed with black chakra metal. There was no getting out of a cell like that...unless you were someone like me of course.

Armsmaster tensed beside me. I heard the slight shift in his stance, the mechanical hum of his visor adjusting. “Are you absolutely sure about that?” he asked. “Because I’ve run the projections on Lung’s theoretical upper limits. If he truly maxes out, I’m not confident even the best standard rig could hold him.”

Carol let out a low snort and reached over to pat him on the shoulder like he was a mildly worried intern. “Trust us,” she said with a grin. “An Endbringer wouldn’t be able to break out of a prison designed by Layla here.”

There was a beat of silence.

Armsmaster’s helmet tilted slightly. Vicky blinked. Amy let out a quiet, surprised little breath.

I spun another portal into existence beside us, leading directly into one of our specialized holding cells.

Carol hefted Lung off her shoulder without an ounce of gentleness and casually tossed him through. His body landed heavily with an unconscious grunt, sprawling out on the reinforced floor.

Honestly, I didn’t give a shit about how rough we were. The guy had a healing factor, and besides, he was a murdering, rapist, sex-trafficking asshole—so fuck him, he deserved every bruise and broken bone he got.

I sank into the nearby plush, dark leather couch, sighing contentedly as the tension eased from my shoulders. Carol lingered a moment, hesitating as if unsure whether to sit or stand. Smirking, I patted the seat beside me, my eyes sparkling mischievously.

Her cheeks colored slightly, but she accepted my invitation without further hesitation, settling gracefully onto the cushion. Her thigh pressed warmly against mine, sending a delightful shiver through me.

“Whoa—hold on a second,” Vicky blurted out, flopping down onto the couch opposite us, her sister Amy gingerly sitting beside her. “Are you two, like, actually together-together? For real? The lonely horndogs on PHO will throw a fit if that's true!”

My grin widened, and I curled my arm confidently around Carol’s shoulders, drawing her firmly against me. “That's right, we sure as hell are. Carol’s my gorgeous, badass girlfriend, and I love her...”

Amy let out a quiet, frustrated sigh, barely concealed under her breath. "So not fair... She likes girls, too? Why couldn’t I have been a few years older?" She thought she was whispering, but she absolutely wasn't.

Vicky shot her sister a startled look, then burst out laughing, clearly amused but not wanting to embarrass her further. "Oh, Amy, honey. You really need to work on that whisper of yours."

Amy’s blush practically radiated heat as she buried her face into her hands, groaning softly. "Shut up, Vicky..."

Armsmaster quietly took a lone seat across from us, his armor letting out small mechanical noises as he eased himself down.

Despite being in a somewhat compromising position—my arm snugly wrapped around Carol’s waist, fingers gently tracing slow circles against her lower back—she managed to straighten up respectfully. Carol inclined her head slightly, offering Armsmaster a genuine nod of appreciation. “I have to say, Armsmaster, I wasn't expecting to see you step out of that portal on the beach with Layla. Thank you for keeping the woman I love safe—even if she didn’t need it,” she whispered that last part for me.

Armsmaster hesitated briefly, then reached up, unlatching his helmet and carefully lifting it from his head. He placed it on the polished floor with a soft metallic thud. My eyes widened slightly. Seeing his actual face was unexpected, his rugged features stern yet thoughtful, shadowed slightly by the exhaustion from today's craziness.

Heroes didn't usually remove their masks casually in front of people they didn’t know. He released a slow breath, leaning back into his chair as though easing some unseen burden. "Honestly, I'd have felt like absolute shit if I just sat around as Protectorate leader and did nothing while Lung went on a rampage. Even if I don't fully trust you two yet," he said pointedly, narrowing his eyes slightly at Carol and me, "you’re clearly trying to make the world better. That counts for something.”

I shrugged lightly, my fingers still softly tracing Carol’s spine. Making her shiver.

"Trust takes time, Armsmaster. All we can do is let our actions speak louder than words," I spoke.

Colin—yes, I obviously knew his name—nodded slowly, clearly processing my words. "Your actions today spoke loudly enough. If what you said about Lung’s containment is accurate, it could revolutionize how heroes deal with villains. The biggest headache we have is villains constantly escaping prison."

Vicky snorted from across the room, dramatically folding her arms under her chest. "God, freaking tell me about it! Do you know how many damn times I've kicked Uber and Leet's asses and handed them to the cops, only to see them walking free the next day? It's insane—these larping assholes seriously need to learn to stay the fuck in jail!”

“Language, young lady,” Carol instinctively chided after Vicky.

Amy snorted from beside her, while Vicky pouted, flopping back onto the couch and shuffling awkwardly. “Oh my god, you sound just like my mom,” she muttered.

“I hear that Brandish is a respectable hero, so that's not the worst comparison,” Carol replied primly.

I chuckled, tightening my arm around her waist. I glanced over at Colin, raising a brow. “You gonna get in trouble for rushing over here to help us? With the PRT I mean.”

Vicky piped up, curious. “Wait, you’re getting in trouble for trying to stop Lung? How does that make sense? That’s bull—” she glanced at Carol who just raised an eyebrow. “—Bullcrap…”

Hehe, who knew Carol had so much mommy energy ready to go?

Colin grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I'll probably have my TinkerTech budget slashed again. ...It's already barely enough to keep pace with repairing my current tech,” he mumbled in dejection.

Carol and I exchanged a knowing look.

“Well,” I said with a sly smile, “if you’re not feeling like a true hero working under the PRT—if they’re not even giving a Tinker like you the resources to stretch your legs—why don’t you quit and work with us at Fallcorp instead?” I went into full sales pitch mode. “You’d get to follow your own principles as a hero. Total creative freedom. And as for your budget…” I paused, letting the drama simmer as Colin eyed me skeptically.

“And how much would a corporation like yours really offer me?” he asked, unimpressed.

“Everything,” I said simply. And grinned.

He blinked. “Everything?”

“Everything you ask for. Your budget would be unlimited. Fallcorp has, quite literally, all the money!”

Amy sputtered. “That’s bullshit. Companies can’t promise unlimited budgets. Most of their funds are tied up in stocks or—whatever, investments. You can’t just promise a Tinker infinite resources!”

I wagged a finger at her, teasing. “Au contraire.”

Carol pinched my thigh, and mumbled to get on with it.

I giggled and leaned into her more as I explained. “I can open portals anywhere. And Carol, she can fly into space just fine! If I want an asteroid full of rare metals, I just take one. We’ve done it before. Fallcorp has a supply chain that literally spans the solar system. So yes, Amy. We have access to more resources than every other corporation and all of the world's governments combined. If we are the desert, they're just a few grains of sand...”

Colin sucked in a breath. “No wonder your company rose so fast...” he muttered. “Unlimited resources... Your powers combined…? That's not fair! She can mine all the rare earth materials and then you can teleport it back so no satellites pick her up re-entering the atmosphere!”

[Technically they're not "rare Earth metals" since they're from space, but he's starting to get it. You're evil, Host. Appealing to his greed like a devil...]

'Well, three of my harem members are devils so they might have rubbed off on me a bit.'

Armsmaster was almost shaking. And just like that, I saw it—the greed spark in his eye. The Tinker in him was fantasizing, calculating, scheming.

I smiled wider. Maybe he needed more incentive. He had tried to force Carol to show him our tech earlier...

“Wanna see what we’ve already built here?” I asked sweetly. “Take a little tour of Fallcorp’s secret vaults? Check out some of our… finest toys?”

Carol had gone off to our private quarters to hop in the shower, scrubbing every inch of dirt, blood, and sand off her skin after beating the absolute shit out of those ABB bastards. I knew exactly how she'd look, steam curling around her, suds sliding across muscle and curves, skin flushed from the heat... Yeah, I definitely had to focus or I was going to walk into a wall.

Meanwhile, Oni Lee had the bad luck—or maybe good luck, from his perspective—of being picked up by regular cops instead of any of Fallcorp’s own agents. That meant he’d be tossed into a standard-issue PRT cell. And given how shitty PRT security tended to be, I gave it three, maybe four days tops before he broke out. Not that it mattered. He’d come crawling right back here to try and bust out his dragon-daddy, and we’d catch him again—this time dropping his teleporting ass straight into a chakra-metal box he wouldn’t be blinking out of.

That would be the nail in the ABB’s coffin. Burn it, bury it, forget it ever stank up this city.

We were in the lower levels of Fallcorp HQ, the air crisp with sterile, conditioned coolness as I led Colin down a hallway lit by sleek blue wall-strips. I was showing him what our scientists had been working on lately—though “showing” might’ve been generous.

He was practically vibrating with restrained nerd-lust already.

Trailing behind us were Vicky and Amy who were still inviting themselves. Well, more like Vicky was dragging Amy by the hand, and Amy looked like she’d rather be literally anywhere else. I had at least conjured up proper outfits for them—couldn’t have the young Dallon sisters wandering our top-secret corridors in their swimsuits.

That was just a lawsuit waiting to happen.

Also tagging along was Taylor Hebert—who had shown up after the fighting was over.

Taylor was clearly not used to being around this many capes at once and I was pretty sure she also barely knew how to talk to girls her own age after all the bullying, but she was actually trying. Asking them about being a hero since she wanted to join Fallcorp. She was hovering near the sisters, asking questions that were blatant enough to out herself as a cape.

Not that either Vicky or Amy pried. I guess they had the tact not to because trigger events were incredibly personal in this world.

“So... is it scary?” she asked as we passed a lab housing a prototype hover car. “Like, going up against people who could kill you in seconds? Fighting with powers.”

Vicky grinned at Taylor. “Honestly? Yeah. But it’s fun scary. Like skydiving, but the parachute is made of punching.”

That weird comment only made sense to people with superpowers. I got what the blonde teen was going for...

Amy rolled her eyes. “Her answer to everything is punching.”

Just then, we reached a blank steel panel with no markings. I pressed my palm against the smooth surface. It hissed open, revealing what looked like a small janitor’s closet lit by a faint blue glow.

I gestured inside to Colin. “And this… is our generator room.”

Colin peered in, deadpan. “This is a closet.”

"Yep!" I grinned. “But it's also our generator room!”

Colin narrowed his eyes and stepped inside, scanning the space like he expected something to leap out at him. “What do you mean, generator room? This is just a damn closet with some weird glowing blue lightbulb in the middle.” He pointed toward the softly humming circle perched atop a sleek, silver pedestal, the thing casting gentle ripples of blue across the metallic walls.

I folded my arms and leaned against the doorframe, smug as hell. “Nope. That right there? That’s an arc reactor. Not a lightbulb, not a gimmick. That one tiny device could power this whole building… and then some. Hell, it could power the entire fucking city of Brockton Bay and still have enough juice left over to make popcorn.”

His eyes widened. “You’re fucking with me.”

I smirked. “Am I?”

Colin immediately tapped the touchscreen on his gauntlet. A sleek scanner unfolded like a mechanical flower, humming as it began to sweep over the reactor. Numbers and graphs danced in the holographic display. He sucked in a sharp breath. “No way... This is pumping out more raw energy than a top-tier nuclear facility. Even a full-scale plant can’t hit these joules per second. What the actual F-...?”

Before he could drool on it, I casually leaned forward and slammed the closet door shut.

He jumped back like I’d just drop-kicked his puppy. “Hey! What the hell, Layla?”

“Easy, Tinker cowboy. You can look all you want—but only if you work for us.”

His mouth opened, then closed. Then it opened again. “You can’t just keep that hidden away—That thing could rewrite the global energy grid—”

“And yet,” I said, brushing imaginary dust off my shoulder, “it lives in a closet…”

“...Not that the glowing lightbulb isn’t cool and all, Layla,” Vicky said, tilting her head and flashing a teasing smile, “but can you show us something more exciting?”

Amy let out a suffering sigh beside her sister. “Seriously, Vicky?”

Taylor looked from one sister to the other, then back at me. “I mean… I do kinda want to see something else, too,” she admitted, her voice quiet but eager.

Meh, she had a rough day. I could show them something cooler I supposed.

Colin muttered under his breath, still staring longingly at the sealed closet door. “It’s not a freakin’ glowing lightbulb…” He sounded like someone mourning a lost love. “It’s an arc reactor… and it was beautiful!"

Everyone kinda ignored that comment.

I placed both hands on my hips and smiled knowingly at the girls, letting the silence stretch a beat longer than needed. “All right,” I said with exaggerated drama. “You want to see something really cool?”

Vicky perked up immediately. “God, yes.”

I spun on my heel. “Follow me.”

We piled into the sterile elevator again, descending deeper—past the high-tech labs, past the reinforced armories, even below the prison that currently held our freshly captured dragon-boy. The hum of the mag-lift deepened as we dropped into levels few people even knew existed.

The elevator chimed open with a soft ding, and we stepped out into a cavernous, dimly lit hangar bay.

“Holy shit,” Taylor breathed, her voice laced with awe.

I couldn’t help but grin. I lived for that reaction sometimes.

“That’s not what I think it is… is it?” Colin said, stepping forward, his boots clanking awkwardly on the steel floor.

“Oh, it’s exactly what you think it is,” I said, patting his armored shoulder. “It's FTL capable. Can cross the galaxy in days. And yes, Colin—it’s very real.”

He stood frozen practically trembling at my words.

Yeah, now we had him...

Vicky’s jaw dropped. “No fucking way. You have a spaceship under your building?!”

"One of several actually..." I corrected her.

“““"EEeeeeeeh!?"”””

– Armsmaster –

A couple of hours after returning to the Rig, Colin was summoned straight into Director Piggot’s office. He already knew the drill. The moment he stepped through the door and saw the thundercloud brewing on her face—and the glowing screen with Chief Director Costa-Brown’s face glowering back—he knew he wasn’t just getting yelled at. This was going to be a full-blown beatdown.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Piggot snarled before he even had time to salute. “Going against protocol, assisting that foolish corporation—what the hell were you thinking, Colin?”

Colin kept his tone measured. “Technically, I didn’t even get the chance to help. Lung was already neutralized by Captain Marvel before I showed up.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Rebecca Costa-Brown barked from the monitor. Her eyes were hard, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “You were seen standing with them. Social media exploded. People are already saying the PRT is backing Fallcorp. That’s the opposite of the message we’ve been trying to put out!”

Piggot leaned forward over her desk, voice low and venomous. “We are both very disappointed, Colin. This kind of behavior has consequences. Your TinkerTech budget is being slashed—heavily. And we’re evaluating whether you’ll retain your command at all.”

Colin stood silent for a beat. He absorbed the words, the accusations, the venom. And then, with no change in expression, he shrugged. “I suppose it is what it is,” he said quietly. “I’d like to tender my resignation.”

Piggot blinked. Costa-Brown froze on screen.

“I’ve accepted a position at Fallcorp,” Colin continued, his voice calm, resolute. “They’ve already onboarded me as a hero, and as a Tinker. Full creative control. Unlimited budget. And, frankly, a support structure that actually respects innovation.”

“WHAT!?” Costa-Brown’s voice rose to a shriek. The image glitched, and for a moment, it looked like she’d punched the screen. The video feed sputtered and then cut out entirely.

Piggot just stared at him, lips slightly parted, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.

“I’ll have my resignation paperwork submitted by the end of day,” Colin added, turning to leave. He didn’t look back.

– Vicky –

Vicky and Amy were sitting at the kitchen table back at home. Vicky was practically bouncing in her chair, her energy bubbling over like a soda bottle shaken one too many times.

"Fallcorp was amazing!" she gushed for the sixth time. "Captain Marvel was amazing. Layla was amazing. Today was—ugh—just AMAZING!"

Amy, who was usually the queen of reserved sarcasm, was surprisingly animated too. She wasn’t squealing like Vicky, but there was a flush to her cheeks and an occasional sparkle in her eyes that made Vicky grin.

“I swear to god, Vicky,” Amy said, shaking her head. “If you say the word ‘amazing’ one more time, I’m going to shove a fork in my own eye. Actually, I’ll shove it in your eye and then heal it afterwards.”

“Oh come on, Amy,” Vicky teased, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “You know today was awesome. You were totally fangirling in the elevator. Don’t deny it!”

Amy narrowed her eyes. “I was not fangirling. I was... appreciating engineering marvels in respectful silence.”

“Uh-huh. You were appreciating something alright. And it was CEO Layla's ass!”

Amy sputtered at that.

Vicky continued. "Not that it wasn't a nice ass, she's just too old for you, Amy. Now that I know your type, don't worry—I'll find you a proper girlfriend at Arcadia. I'm pretty sure Katey is gay too. You like cheerleaders?" Vicky asked her sister.

"Why are you like this!?" Amy groaned and threw her hands up.

It’s just how Vicky was wired…

Just then, the front door opened with a soft click, and their mom’s voice called out, “I’m home, girls.”

"Oh thank god..." Amy murmured.

Carol stepped into the kitchen and paused mid-step, her sharp blue eyes narrowing as they swept over her daughters. There was something about her stance—the way she set her purse down on the counter and folded her arms—that told Vicky she’d seen the news. Sure enough, Carol’s gaze sharpened. “You two were way too close to Lung today. That was incredibly reckless—and dangerous. You could’ve been killed.”

Vicky winced slightly. “Okay, yeah, but—”

But she didn’t get the rest out. Carol was gearing up for a proper scolding, and Vicky wasn’t having it today.

“Mom!” she cut in, practically vibrating with anticipation. “Amy and I have amazing news!”

Carol blinked. Her tone shifted slightly as she asked, “Oh? What’s that?”

Amy looked mildly panicked, but Vicky steamrolled forward, standing up dramatically and planting her hands on the table. “We’re officially quitting New Wave and joining Fallcorp as junior heroes!”

Carol’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened—and then her knees buckled.

“Mom!” Vicky yelped, leaping forward just in time to catch her mother as she fainted clean off her feet.

“Holy shit!” Amy scrambled around the table.

“I didn’t think she’d actually faint!” Vicky cried, holding Carol up under the arms. “She’s literally fainting right now! Amy, do something!”

“What the hell do you want me to do? Smack her awake?”

“You’re the healer!”

“I heal wounds, Vicky! Not over dramatic fainting spells caused by my sister’s impulsive mouth!”

As they carefully lowered Carol onto the couch, Vicky looked down at her mom’s face.

“She’s gonna freak when she wakes up, huh?”

Amy sighed, brushing hair off Carol’s forehead. “Oh yeah. Screaming, lectures, probably that scary disappointed glare.”

Vicky smiled sheepishly. “Still worth it.”

XXX