My World, My Justice Ch. 11 (Patreon)

-Taylor Herbert-

Taylor - no, Buzzwing - was conducting a heroic patrol in the docks, properly this time. She had chosen a modest two-story building as her vantage point, reasoning that anything taller might result in an unfortunate accident while climbing the access ladder. It wasn’t exactly the towering perch she’d imagined heroes used, nothing like the building in downtown where True Might struck cool poses in his videos clips, but it would have to do for now. 

Baby steps.

Her costume was finally complete and fully equipped, the result of countless hours hunched over her sewing machine. The spider silk bodysuit was a masterwork in her honest opinion, even if she did say so herself - though getting enough spiders to make it had been a nightmare of trial and error. After extensive testing, she’d confirmed it could turn away a knife blade, though bullet resistance remained an open question. It was surprisingly difficult for a teenager in Brockton Bay to acquire a firearm for testing purposes - shocking, really, considering the state of her city. While she knew certain students at Winslow could probably point her toward one, she’d overheard enough deals being made in the bathrooms. That would mean dealing with criminals. Heroes didn’t consort with criminals, and besides, she had no desire to interact with that crowd ever again. Approaching a legitimate gun owner was equally problematic - too many questions would be raised, and she could already imagine her father’s face if he caught wind of it.

Bulletproof or not, she was back in action as Buzzwing! And of course she had been practicing her power more, which was why she had a small cluster of bees and wasps by her side, maybe a dozen in total, still requiring most of her concentration just to keep them in formation.

“Get ready to feel the stinger of justice, evildoers! Because Buzzwing is here to... uh... buzz some righteous truth right into your wicked little hearts...” She deflated at the end, her modest swarm drifting out of formation as her concentration slipped.

That was terrible. After all those practice sessions in front of the mirror and pages of notes, she could do better than that. True Might wouldn’t stumble over his words like some nervous teenager.

She tapped her head a few times, trying to recall her prepared speech. Focus Taylor.

The insects responded sluggishly as she tried to arrange them into something resembling a dramatic pattern - she’d have to practice that more. 

Wait - yes!

“Citizens, fear not! For I, Buzzwing, the Winged Guardian of Justice, am here to protect the hive of humanity! No villainy shall escape my keen compound eyes, no wrongdoing shall go un-stung! Stand back, or prepare to face the buzzing fury of righteousness!”

She jumped in celebration, fist raised high toward the cloudy Brockton Bay sky. Her swarm - small as it was - rose in what she hoped was an impressive spiral, though keeping them in formation made her head hurt. 

Perfect! True Might would be proud of that one. She could almost hear his booming laugh of approval.

Now confident in her introduction, she just needed to find some heroic work. Nothing like the gang fight - that had been pure luck she’d survived, and she still was a bit jumpy about how close she’d come to get a bullet to the face.. Something more manageable, like stopping a pickpocket or pursuing a purse snatcher. 

However, her current position offered limited visibility - just the deserted street below, illuminated by flickering streetlights. A four-story building a few blocks away caught her attention. The rooftops between here and there were all similarly low, making it seem deceptively easy to traverse them. She couldn’t sense anyone watching through her limited range - this was her chance to look cool, just like in the movies.

She stretched her legs and started running, building speed toward the edge. Her heart pounded with excitement, her small swarm trying to follow but already falling behind as she pushed the limits of her control. As her foot hit the ledge, she leaped into the air, feeling for one glorious moment like she really was the hero she’d dreamed of becoming.

Wait...

She didn’t have super strength or enhanced agility for these kinds of jumps...

Ah... fuck...

Time seemed to slow as Taylor hung in the air, her moment of heroic glory transforming into pure terror because gravity exists. Her arms windmilled uselessly as her small swarm scattered in panic, matching her own state of mind.

“Oh no-no-no-NO-!”

Her shoulder slammed into a fire escape, sending her spinning like a deranged pinball. She caught a dizzying glimpse of sky-wall-ground-wall as she bounced, and then her hip connected with a lower section of emergency ladder, the impact rattling her teeth. The ladder’s rusty hinges groaned in protest, metal shrieking against metal.

Her leg caught another ladder mid-fall, transforming her descent into an unwilling cartwheel. The world spun in a nauseating blur of shadows and streetlights, her scream growing increasingly desperate with each rotation.

Thankfully a dumpster welcomed her with the soft embrace of several garbage bags, cutting off her scream. The lid slammed shut above her with a thunderous finality, plunging her into darkness and the pungent aroma of what she desperately hoped was just old takeout.

“Ow...” Taylor groaned, feeling tomorrow’s bruises forming already. The true smell hit her next - a horrific cocktail of rotting food and who-knew-what-else that made her grateful she hadn’t eaten dinner yet. Her costume would need a thorough washing, and her hair... she didn’t even want to think about what might be in her hair right now.

Fighting back waves of nausea, she pulled herself upright, kicking open the dumpster lid and making undignified noises as something slimy slid down her back. 

“Waaaa! A monster!”

Taylor’s head snapped up to see two young kids pointing at her from the alley entrance, their eyes wide with terror. 

“Wait! I’m a hero!” she called after them, but they were already gone. She slumped against the dumpster with a sigh. “Being a hero is harder than it looks…”

A persistent buzzing around her head drew her attention to several flies that had been attracted by her state and started poking at her. Annoyed, she reached out with her power. The largest one slammed itself into the nearest wall with a tiny ‘thwack’. Another dive-bombed straight into the dumpster, effectively removing itself from her presence. As she prepared to deal with the third one, she froze.

Wait.

She had flying insects.

If she wanted a view from above, she could have just... used one of her bees to scout ahead instead of climbing buildings.

Taylor let her head thunk back against the dumpster, causing the lid to close itself.

“I’m an idiot…” she muttered to herself, picking a rotting banana peel off her shoulder. Two hours of patrol planning, and that obvious solution hadn’t even occurred to her. She had been so focused on trying to look like a proper hero, on mimicking True Might’s dramatic poses and heroic declarations, that she’d completely overlooked her power.

“Hello? Is someone hurt?” The humming stopped, replaced by concerned calls and approaching footsteps. 

Taylor tensed. She knew that voice from the Ward promotional videos - Maple, the newest Ward, famous for her incredible defensive capabilities and equally incredible friendliness. Taylor hadn’t followed her career closely, but it was hard to miss someone who showed up with a giant tower shield and still managed to be universally described as ‘adorable.’

“I heard a really big crash and- oh!”

Maple’s helmeted head appeared over the dumpster’s edge, peering down with visible worry. “Are you okay down there?”

Taylor contemplated staying in the dumpster forever. It seemed less painful than facing this conversation.

“I’m f-fine!” Taylor called back, her voice slightly cracking. “Just... testing the local waste management facilities. For justice!”

“Oh! That’s very thorough of you!” Maple’s genuine enthusiasm somehow made it worse, like wanting to bury herself. “Though usually, I find patrols work better at street level. Want a hand getting out?”

“I... yes, please,” Taylor finally admitted, her heroic persona crumbling under the weight of garbage and embarrassment.

“Great! Here, let me just-“ 

The dumpster lid swung fully open. Maple extended a gauntleted hand, then paused. “Oh! I should introduce myself properly first! I’m Maple of the Wards ENE! Though you probably knew that already because of the armor and... um, everything.” She wiggled her fingers in a friendly wave, nearly losing her grip on the dumpster’s edge.

Taylor grasped the offered hand, trying to channel her dignity despite her current state. “I am Buzzwing, the Winged Guardian of- oof!” She stumbled as Maple pulled her up with surprising strength, sending several unidentifiable pieces of trash flying.

“Buzzwing! That’s such a cute name!” Maple clapped her armored hands together. “Oh, but you’ve got some... um...” She gestured vaguely at all of Taylor. “Would you like a tissue? I keep some in my armor for emergencies. I have tons at home too! People keep giving me toilet paper as gifts ever since the charity event!” She giggled. “There’s, like, a whole mountain of it in my room now. The PRT had to help me organize it! Though this might need more than one tissue... Maybe all my tissues?”

As Taylor nodded and attempted to restore some semblance of cleanliness, Maple brightened. “Hey, since we’re both here, want to patrol together? I mean, if you’re not too busy with your waste management investigation! I could show you some of the safer routes and good observation spots! Though sometimes I get a bit turned around...” She scratched her arm sheepishly. “But that’s what makes it an adventure, right?”

Taylor blinked behind her mask. This was exactly what she’d wanted - a chance to learn proper hero work and it would be straight from an expert… well as much as Maple could be.

“I would be honored to join forces in the name of justice!” Taylor declared, then immediately regretted her volume as something squelched in her boot.

“Yay!” Maple bounced excitedly, her armor clanking. “Oh! First lesson - there’s a really nice rooftop spot just two blocks from here. You can see the whole street, and there’s a fire escape, so we don’t have to jump!” She paused. “Though last time I used it, I got stuck for twenty minutes because my armor wouldn’t fit through the gap... Maybe we should take the long way around?”

“The long way sounds perfect,” Taylor agreed quickly, not eager to relive any climbing experiences tonight. Besides, walking would hopefully help some of the garbage fall off naturally. She hoped.

“Oh, by the way,” Maple called out. “We should go to the headquarters after this patrol and register you on the official hero list!”

----------------------------------

-Collin Wallis, Armsmaster-

There was never a normal day in Brockton Bay, and Colin knew that very well. It was precisely why he maintained multiple contingency plans and continuously upgraded his equipment. Preparation was key to efficiency.

The tension in the meeting room was palpable as he stood with the Director, Assault, Battery, and Dragon, who attended via her usual video conference setup. Everyone waited for Piggot to speak, her unusual hesitation setting off warning signals in Colin’s mind. Even Assault had abandoned his usual irreverent demeanor, sitting rigidly in his chair - a concerning tell from someone who treated most situations as a joke.

“Dragon.” Piggot’s voice cut through the silence. “Full situation report. Again.”

“Confirmed. At 1521 hours, Snowflame breached containment. It is believed that he transmuted his restraints and containment foam into cocaine, which he consumed to activate his powers. Judging by the amount of cocaine on his cell. After creating an initial disruption, he freed other imprisoned Merchant capes.” Dragon’s voice remained professional as security footage appeared, showing a wall crumbling under a powered-up villain’s fist. “They prioritized retrieving Muscular’s combat suit, which contained his strength-enhancement formula. Upon securing it, Muscular breached multiple reinforced barriers to capture the facility’s garage. They’ve established a defensive position, allowing Squealer to modify the facility’s vehicles while other inmates create chaos and secure hostages. No demands have been issued, suggesting they’re still in preparation stages.”

Colin’s jaw tightened beneath his helmet. The situation represented multiple systematic failures - ones that should have been impossible with proper protocols in place.

“Understood,” he stated, already mentally drafting another plan.

“Hold on,” Battery interjected. “The formula shouldn’t have been anywhere near the prison. We confiscated his entire supply on his suit during the arrest. It’s supposed to be secured in high-level containment if it wasn’t destroyed already.”

“Eighth amendment compliance.” Piggot’s voice barely contained her anger. “They classified it as a medical necessity for withdrawal management. The paperwork showed it as standard medication in the intake logs.”

Colin processed the information with growing frustration. This breach indicated either compromised guards or systematic corruption - possibly both. They would need to investigate every staff member’s background, financial records, and recent behavioral changes. The possibility of blackmail couldn’t be ignored either. He made a mental note to have his lie detection software ready for the interrogations.

Battery leaned forward. “Wait. Since when can Snowflame transmute any object into cocaine, especially tinkertech? Nowhere in his files mentioned matter manipulation.”

“There are no previous records of containment procedures against him,” Colin stated flatly. The lack of data was irritating more than ever. “This is the first time anyone’s successfully captured and held him long enough to attempt standard containment measures for capes.”

Dragon’s image shifted on the screen as she brought up additional footage. “I’ve recovered and analyzed more security feeds. At 1519 hours, two minutes before the incident, we lost all camera coverage in that section. This suggests either outside assistance or power interference.”

“The external security feeds show no unauthorized entries,” Colin added, his mind already running through possible scenarios. “No scheduled transfers or visits were logged for that timeframe, either.”

Piggot’s eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting we’re dealing with both a high-rated Mover and a Stranger?”

“That,” Colin replied with clinical precision, “or Snowflame possesses previously unknown molecular manipulation abilities that render containment technology ineffective.” He paused, considering the implications as that also suggested another thing.. “Those are the only logical conclusions based on available data.”

Assault pushed back from the table, his usual playful demeanor completely absent. “So why are we still here instead of helping to stop this shitshow?”

“Eraserhead, Snipe, Miss Militia, and Velocity are already on site with four PRT squadrons,” Piggot responded. “They’re containing the situation and attempting de-escalation. And preventing independent interference.”

“With all due respect, Director, that won’t be enough,” Assault pressed, unusually serious. “Snowflame alone is a major threat. And since he is working with Muscular…” He left the implications hanging.

Colin remained silent. He counted with Eraserhead’s power-nullification, the situation wouldn’t be as dire as Assault suggested. But with the possibility that it might not be effective to contain the drugged up bastard, that was an unexpected variable in his plans, he lost a good portion of that confidence in the calculations. Yet they could still manage to win if the situation escalated to worse and he was sure that none of the capes wanted to start a fight but merely escape the prison grounds, otherwise they wouldn’t have barricaded themselves in the prison garage.

Piggot pinched the bridge of her nose. “We’re not deploying additional capes. You’re here to prevent opportunistic attacks from the gangs, particularly the Merchants. We can’t leave our flanks exposed.”

Assault threw his hands up in frustration just as Dragon’s voice cut through. “Incoming report: Merchant forces engaging in a frontal assault. Approximately twelve individuals, armed, firing indiscriminately at the perimeter.”

His jaw instantly clenched as he heard it. The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence.

“Your orders, Director?”

“First priority: pull back all Wards to base immediately. I won’t give the Youth Guard ammunition against us.” Piggot commanded sharply. “Assault, Battery - contain the incursion. If Skidmark or Trainwreck show up, do not engage alone. Wait for backup.”

They nodded and departed swiftly.

“Additional situations developing,” Dragon reported again. “Gang violence northwest, docks south. ABB and Empire foot soldiers. No capes involved yet, but heavy gunfire was reported.”

Piggot’s fist clenched. “Contact BBPD. Get response teams there immediately. This needs to be contained before it draws their capes’ attention.”

Dragon acknowledged the order.

“Armsmaster.” Piggot’s voice carried steel. “Position yourself near ABB territory. Stay hidden. If any of their capes move, shut them down. No attempts at negotiation. Clear?”

“Understood.” He stood up and turned around, leaving the office. He could hide in a building and keep a radar or use one of Dragon’s drones to keep an eye up in the sky to detect movements. But he would need more tinker tech cuffs, he predicted, at least two capes.

“Be careful, Colin.” Dragon added through their comms.

He grunted in acknowledgment.

----------------------------------

-Daniel, True Might-

I wake up with a long yawn, my hands slowly moving to rub my eyes. Even superheroes need their beauty sleep… I’d never say that on camera. I stretch my arms above my head until I hear that satisfying pop of joints before letting out a contented sigh. 

God, that feels good.

Rising from my bed, I arch my back for another stretch and get the same satisfying results.

One would think that being True Might would mean I’m above such mortal needs as sleep considering all my talents, perks and physiology. But nope - this wacky hero life has just turned my schedule into modern abstract art. Sometimes I’m in bed at respectable hours, other times I’m face-planting at dawn or waking up at midnight wondering how I’m ready to start the day.

The Body Tune-up keeps me at peak physical condition, stacking with my scientifically enhanced body that’s been tweaked down to the molecular level to be the perfect heroic specimen in every department. Talk about over-engineering, but well, the Iron arm warrior was designed to kill a demon king who grows exponentially stronger for every incarnation, so my version of the demon king should be Scion and the endbringers are his demon generals.

Hah… why am I even using those terminologies?

Anyway…

Theoretically speaking, I shouldn’t even feel tired. The mental defenses should prevent exhaustion too, unless that isn’t how they work and the defense in other ways.. Yet here I am, yawning again like any other mere mortal. 

I could blow credits on Time-saver to optimize all this sleeping, eating, and showering business, but it feels like a waste when I’m still paying off that loan and I haven’t earned that much.

Ugh, speaking of credits - I really need a solid plan to take down Lung and cash in on those sweet, sweet mission rewards. They’re just too juicy to ignore. The massive PR boost wouldn’t hurt either.

Maybe I could rush his base, grab him, and drag him to the outskirts where he can safely grow to his biggest recorded size before I beat him down. The news helicopters would eat that up - probably catch my best angle too. But other capes jumping in to assist in the massive fight? That’s the real headache. I would lose out on 25 credits even if a single of them provide any level of assistance.

I could challenge him openly, but Lung’s not exactly known for his sporting nature and if anyone was stupid enough to bring up his potential loss of reputation would end up a silhouette on the floor, that’s all the reputation the dragon needs.

Though... with my current golden boy reputation, maybe I should tackle that mission about the bullied girl first. What was her name again... Taylor Herbert, right. The company’s offering decent credits for handling her situation, and now it fits perfectly with my public image but I need help to achieve that because as strong as I’m, my head is pretty blank in how to handle investigations and such regarding this type of issue.

Wait a minute. Oracle’s information network would be perfect for digging up dirt on these bullies and whatever corruption’s going on at Winslow, yeah it might work.

I should pitch her the idea. Knowing Oracle, she’ll either help out of all the goodwill built up or ask for a favor. Both work for me - I’m nothing if not flexible in my pursuit of justice... God help me, I’m even doing the heroic thing in my internal thoughts now.

But yeah, exposing corruption at Winslow sounds like a solid mission. The public loves it when a hero stands up for the little guy, showing them that we know they exist and we care as well, and after all that kid-friendly approach and publicity, expanding to helping troubled teens is a natural progression. Plus, the credits will help with that loan, and hey - if some kid actually benefits from this, that’s a nice bonus. Makes a refreshing change from punching nazis and junkies. Though that always has its perks.

It’s a win-win! 

Not bad for a morning’s planning.

First things first - where did I put my phone?

I pat around my bed and then move to the side table until my hand finds the familiar shape. Flipping it over, I’m greeted by a screen full of notifications making my brow furrow. Multiple missed calls and messages, all from Oracle.

Oh. Oh. That’s not a good sign.

But I unlock my phone and check them.

Prison break. Major incident. Multiple escapees. Where r u? 

Text me ASAP. 

Never mind, it’s been handled. Mostly. 

Call me when you wake up.

“Well, shit...” The words escape my mouth as I scroll through Oracle’s messages 

The irony isn’t lost on me. Here I was, planning elaborate schemes to earn credits, and I just slept through what was probably a golden opportunity for a profitable mission. 

Perfect. Just perfect. 

Guess I better call her back and see what that was all about.

“Well, well, well! Look who finally decided to join the land of the living!” A cheerful, teasing voice chirps through the speaker. “Had a nice beauty sleep, True Might?”

“HARK, NOBLE ORACLE! I MUST HUMBLY REQUEST INFORMATION ABOUT THE NEFARIOUS DEED THAT HAS TRANSPIRED IN MY ABSENCE! MY HEART WEIGHS HEAVY WITH THE BURDEN OF DUTY UNFULFILLED!”

“Pfft- oh my god, you’re really…?” Oracle breaks into laughter. “This is amazing. Never change. Okay, okay - so about that prison break? It was wild. Snowflame went completely nuts, somehow broke out, and then went to free Squealer and Mush. And all of them then decided to help Muscular - you know, the guy who you beat like weeks ago? Yeah, he somehow got his gear back.”

Bane with his suit and formula? How did he even get his hands on that? Or was his stuff even there?

“SUCH VILLAINOUS COOPERATION SHALL NOT GO UNPUNISHED! THE MERCHANTS AND THE ABB WORKING TOGETHER TO UNDERMINE THE SANCTITY OF OUR CORRECTIONAL FACILITIES IS AN AFFRONT TO ALL THAT IS JUST AND RIGHTEOUS IN THIS FAIR CITY!”

But honestly? I am not even surprised that they escaped in less than a month. This is Brockton Bay after all and the laughably corrupt and incompetent PRT.

“Right? And get this - Squealer was like super inspired. The moment they got to the garage? Total chaos. We’re talking nitro-boosted prison vans, improvised armor plating, the works. Classic Squealer style, but faster than anyone expected. They caused a huge riot as a distraction and just... vroomed out of there. The PRT couldn’t do much but contain the situation to avoid innocent casualties, as always. Although it was surprising that there were no police or guards casualties in this whole mess.”

“By the sacred oath of my justice, I shall pursue these miscreants to the ends of the earth! Their escape is but temporary, for justice never rests and neither shall I until they are returned to their rightful place behind bars!”

Hey, brain. Can you make my responses shorter? Please?

“Uh-huh. Says the guy who slept through the whole thing,” Oracle teases, as I hear more keyboard clicking in the background. “Yep., they are all back in their territory. I tried to send a few independents to stop them but sadly nothing. They are very slippery when they want to and it didn’t help went the Protectorate was there to stop everything, claiming about escalation of conflict and that… ugh I really don’t like when they start waving all the red tape and stuff, thankfully Mirko wasn’t there or she would have punched them in the face for that.”

So everything is back to square one, great.

No wonder people give up trying in this city. Although, thinking a little more, I could use these junkies to earn some credits again.

“Indeed, noble friend! The path of justice is fraught with trials and tribulations, yet we must persevere! For though evil may slip through our grasp today, the righteous light of justice shall always triumph! These villains may hide in the shadows, but they cannot escape the ever-watchful eye of Lady Justice forever!”

“You know, somehow you manage to make even setbacks sound inspiring,” Oracle chuckles. “Anyway, if you are going on a patrol, I suggest you start with Empire territory. The Merchant will be lying low for a while after this.”

“Noted, my noble friend!”

Finally, a short response. 

“Oh, by the way,” Oracle adds casually, her keyboard clicking away, “you should really look for a good lawyer.”

Wait, what?

“What grave injustice requires legal counsel? Have the forces of evil stooped to even attempt to use the courts against the allies of justice?”

“Oh, nothing bad!” Oracle actually sounds way too amused. “Just... you might find that having one would be very handy. Soon. Very soon. Oracle out!”

And just like that, the call ends, leaving me staring at my phone with a mix of confusion. I’m pretty sure Oracle knows something I don’t. But I still need to learn more before I can sit down to talk with her and ask some important questions.

Well, no point dwelling on cryptic warnings. Time to start my day properly. 

And I really love that my apartment in the demi-plane makes everything much easier and convenient, everything within reach. One quick shower and costume change later, I’m stepping out of my apartment, and I’m already outside in a rather dark alley somewhere in downtown as I can hear the car horns and more urban noises. And they only intensify as soon as I step into the open streets.

Well, I will take Oracle’s advice and start my patrol in Empire territory, meanwhile I look for a random mission at their expense.

However, I hear a car hit the brakes and then park behind me, making me turn around out of curiosity and raise an eyebrow in mild surprise as it is a black car and the door opens, revealing Miss Militia being the driver.

“True Might,” she calls out in a professional tone and waving her hand to get closer. “Do you have a moment? There are some people interested in speaking with you.”

I tilt my head a little but quickly make my way towards her. She isn’t carrying her arsenal with her, a detail I quickly notice when I’m close enough. The back doors of the car open and two men in expensive suits get off the car.

Were they waiting for me? And since when? Or why is she playing escort to these guys?

“Ah! Greetings, noble Miss Militia! What brings you and your companions to cross paths with a humble servant of justice on this fine day?”

I catch a slight tightening around her eyes above her bandana - the kind that says she’s already regretting being part of this. “These… gentlemen were hoping to speak with you,” she says with barely concealed annoyance. “They represent some interested parties.”

Then maybe the director’s direct orders? That would be amusing, because Piggot would be pissed just for that alone.

“Good afternoon, True Might!” The taller suit steps forward, flashing the kind of smile you usually see in toothpaste commercials and extending an open hand. “I’m James Cooper from Heritage Media, and my partner here is Michael Ross from Apex Entertainment. We’ve been very impressed by your recent heroic activities and would love to discuss some merchandising opportunities and ways to further your brand...”

Oh. Oh.

That’s what Oracle meant about needing a lawyer soon.