New chapter!

Special thanks to Commissar Carnifex for betaing.

Nightmare 4.4

Boogeyman reeled as flesh and scales filled her vision. She growled as the damage that they had done to Lung melted away under the onslaught of his healing. Organs that had been nothing more than bags of flesh reformed in an instant. A Nightmare bit into the man's exposed heart, but even as warm blood erupted from the wound it was already healing over. In less than a second, the Nightmare found itself missing a few of its teeth as it pulled back in shock. Boogeyman could only watch as the previously grievous wound vanished from sight, taking the Nightmare's teeth with it.

Lung's heart had healed so quickly that it had literally ripped the teeth out of her minion. All around her she could see other Nightmares going through something similar, losing pieces of themselves in tangled webs of flesh and viscera as Lung's body rebuilt itself from the ground up. Boogeyman snarled as she forged a spear of sand in her hand and rose up to sever the man's neck.

Let's see how fast he can heal when his head's rolling on the ground, she thought with vicious glee as she plowed the spear into his neck. She could feel flesh and bone break underneath her blade even as Lung howled with rage and pain. But even as she felt the blade push further and further in, she could feel it slowing down, as if she were trying to shove it through a wall of jelly. The silver scales on Lung's back collided at the point of impact like a pair of tectonic plates, snapping her spear in two.

Boogeyman growled as she formed another spear even an additional layer of armored scales wrapped over where she had struck the crime lord. The spear struck true, but instead of piercing the scales with ease, it blunted, cracking the silver armor but not breaking it. Within seconds any sign of her attack was gone.

"What?" Boogeyman blinked, surprised at the sudden turn of events. Lung hadn't demonstrated this level of healing at all during their fight. Was this something that he got as he grew larger? Boogeyman didn't have any more time to consider the implications as a massive hand pushed through the tide of darkness and sand to reach around to where she was perched. The young teen gasped with a mixture of shock and pain and the clawed hand wrapped around her form. She could feel Lung trying to squeeze her to a pulp. She was strong enough to prevent herself from being ground into a fine paste, but that still did little to alleviate her suffering. Though his flames were still being snuffed by her Nightmares, his hand was extremely hot, and probably would have given her third-degree burns if she wasn't a Brute.

Her Nightmares responded to her cries of distress, wrapping themselves around the offending wrist in an effort to saw it off from the man's body. Blood splattered across the asphalt below as the Nightmares tore into the limb like a buzz saw, but they might as well have been a child trying to move a boulder. Within moments any trace of their attack was erased by Lung's newfound healing factor as even more scales crisscrossed against his wrists.

Boogeyman paused her struggles as Lung's burning gaze met her own. There was no fear or terror in those eyes, only a mindless blinding rage that would make the sun seem like a firecracker in comparison. The feeling was… unnatural. No being should be able to feel that much anger, and only anger at that. Every other emotion was being pushed aside to make room for his all-encompassing rage. Molten spittle flew from the false dragon's mouth as he roared, his sharp fangs clearly visible to the restrained cape.

A sharp crack erupted from outside of the swirling vortex of Nightmares and blasted a hole straight through. Boogeyman flinched a bit as part of Lung's head exploded, exposing his insides and splattering fluids all over her face. Lung roared in pain, giving her enough space to slip out of her grasp by turning herself into a shadow. As she pulled back into her swarm of Nightmares she had them pull back themselves. It was obvious that something was wrong, and given every time they struck him he seemed to grow stronger they were proving to be counterproductive as well.

Her Nightmares pulled back into groups, but that did little to deter Lung's anger. Even as his head wound healed over another layer of scales was added to his face he charged after one of the groups as his flames reignited. But despite how utterly terrifying his rage was, there didn't seem to be any sense or pattern to it. He would charge after one Nightmare only to stop half way and attack another. He was still beyond deadly of course, wading through waves of Nightmares, but he wasn't trying to focus any of them down.

It was the rage of a mad dog, not a gang leader.

Boogeyman took a breath as she emerged from the ground a good distance from Lung's towering form. He didn't appear to be any larger from when she had tried to kill him, but it was still massive, looming over the battlefield like a bad omen. His personal inferno encased his form like a cocoon, burning away at the very air around him. Even with his lack of coherent thought, he was still proving to be a formidable foe.

"Boogeyman," a stern voice said, causing her to turn to the source. Miss Militia's scarf covered face was set into an angry glare, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes gleaming with wariness and distaste. A rather large gun was being pointed near her chest, but the woman didn't seem to be making any moves to shoot her.

At least not yet.

"Miss Militia, what can I do for you?" Boogeyman asked, eyeing the gun warily. This one was much bigger than that pistol she had been shot with before, and while she didn't doubt that she could survive being shot was painful.

"What did you just do?" she asked, her voice cold and uncompromising. This wasn't the PR approved Miss Militia, this was the real woman underneath the mask. Someone who wouldn't stop until every threat to what they held dear was dead or gone. She wasn't playing games anymore.

"I tried to kill Lung," Boogeyman said as she waved a hand to the still rampaging dragon. She managed to avoid wincing as Lung slammed into a building in his blind rage, shattering the structure. "As you can see, it didn't take."

"No kidding," Assault breathed out with an awe-struck tone as he pulled himself up from the ground. The red costumed parahuman hadn't cracked a single smile during the fight, instead keeping a stone-faced expression of concentration that made her understand why he had been so successful as Madcap. "What did you do to him? I've never seen him this angry, and I was there when Purity and Night pulverized his legs into mush."

"I may have brought up his Trigger event," Boogeyman said without a hint of regret. Horrific as Trigger events might be, Lung didn't deserve any special treatment. If he didn't want to be reminded about his Trigger event he should have gone in for therapy when this happened, not become a crime lord.

All around the parahumans flinched, a primal fear coiling around their hearts in automatic response. She was too distracted to pay attention to most of the fearful thoughts that flashed through their minds, but one in particular caught her attention. There was that same flash of fear in Battery, but it was tinged with regret and shame. What was most odd about it was that it wasn't the same type of knee jerk reaction that the others had. It was a fear of discovery, and thoughts of vials flashed through her mind. Boogeyman didn't want to get sidetracked while Lung was still alive, but she gave the Breaker a look from the corner of her eye.

She held back a smile as another flash of fear coiled up her spine as she stiffened in response.

Let these weak heroes know fear.

Focus, Boogeyman thought, steeling herself against some of her more basic instincts. As gratifying as it would be to make these so called "heroes" quake in their boots, they had more important things to deal with.

"But something's off with his power, he started healing a lot faster than he had been a minute ago," Boogeyman said, waving her hand towards Lung as a Nightmare ripped his ear off. Within seconds the auditory extremity reasserted itself, covered in a much thick plate of scales that her Nightmare's teeth found much harder to crack.

Miss Militia seemed to be the first to shake off her daze from the revelation of what Boogeyman had done and added her two-cents. "That's not too strange, Lung gets more powerful the larger he is…"

"Yes, I know how his power works," Boogeyman said, cutting off the woman with a dismissive snort. Did the woman really think she wouldn't have gone into battle with Lung without knowing how his power worked? Without knowing what she would be up against? "But look, he hasn't gotten any bigger and he's still healing far faster than normal. I had his entrails on the streets and now there's not a scratch on him."

"In any case, none of us have anything that can take down Lung at this point," Battery said, apparently having steeled herself from Boogeyman's knowing look. Soot and grime covered the woman's costume, blacking out the circuit-like highlights on her costume. "At least not without a lot of collateral damage," she added, glancing towards Miss Militia.

Boogeyman held back an irritated growl towards the aforementioned parahuman. She certainly had the capabilities to end Lung's career before he got too ramped up, but instead chose to play a game with the man. Only ever fighting enough to hurt him rather than kill, and whatever she said, Lung had no place in this world. The man hadn't fought at Endbringer battle since his first and only match against Leviathan, and unless one came to Brockton Bay she doubted he ever would again. He had no purpose in this world but to spread suffering and misery and the Protectorate had the gall to allow him to live because he might be useful one day. Still, she could see Battery's point. At this size, anything that the Blaster had that could actually kill Lung would produce far too much collateral damage to be safely used inside the city.

"Velocity managed to get Dauntless to the hospital and he's on his way back," Miss Militia said, apparently not deciding to voice the fact that Velocity would be useless against Lung. "Armsmaster is on his way, but Triumph is down and in medical."

"What, why?" Assault asked, nearly doing a double take at the heroine.

"Apparently a new cape calling herself Deimos dropped a PRT agent at the front gates and told them he was a Coil spy. He's in medical right now, babbling nonsense. The PRT agents that witnessed the altercation claimed she said she was an associate of Boogeyman," Miss Militia said, giving the young cape a hard look. Boogeyman bit back a growl. She didn't care about the man in the slightest, but she didn't need this tenuous alliance falling apart right now.

I said to be subtle, Vicky, Boogeyman thought with no small amount of frustration. Granted, it's probably what she would have done if she had gone in Vicky's stead, but it was still the principle of the matter. "I fail to see how this changes things."

"You assaulted a PRT officer and you think it's nothing?" Battery asked with a snarl, her skin emitting a soft glow. She looked about ready to pounce before Assault put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a shake. Boogeyman could feel the anger rolling off the woman dissipate a little bit as she schooled her features and held her ground. She wasn't going to attack her, but she really wanted to. Boogeyman caught snippets of her memories, a young girl asking her father what was wrong as they buried an empty casket into the ground, tears running down his face.

The young parahuman just shrugged. "I didn't assault him, and in any case, he was selling you all out to Coil for a few extra bucks. And given all the villains he's helped break out of conveys, I'd say that he's hurt way more PRT agents than I have."

Of course, she didn't know that for sure, that was why she had wanted Victoria to pay him a visit, but it wasn't that unreasonable jump in logic given his position in the organization. That was probably the least of what he did in any event. She wasn't going to feel sympathy for someone who betrayed the people that trusted them. A bit petty perhaps, given her history, but she didn't care.

"But is this really the conversation that you want to be having right now?" Boogeyman asked, eyes flickering back over to Lung as he chased another stray Nightmare. The heroes exchanged looks, but they might as well have been open books to her. They didn't want her to get off scot free from this, but they couldn't afford to alienate her while Lung was still active.

"No, it's not," Miss Militia said, preempting the slowly forming words of her comrades. Her weapon shifted into another gun that she didn't recognize, but whatever it was it was large enough that she wouldn't have wanted to get shot by it. "But we will deal with this later Boogeyman. Don't think that this is going to absolve you of your crimes.

Boogeyman just gave the Blaster a sharp smile that chilled the air around them. "Oh, Miss Militia, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Though he was a baseline human there was no doubt in Armsmaster's mind that he was one of the most dangerous members of the local Protectorate. It wasn't because he had some sort of innate raw power like Assault or Dauntless that could blow away most people like bowling pins. He couldn't level buildings like Purity or demolish entire streets like the late and unlamented Kaiser. At the end of the day, he was just another squishy little mortal that could die if he fell down the stairs wrong. And yet, he could stand up to each one of them and in most cases, overpower them.

No, what made him so dangerous was that he was prepared for everything. Unlike other capes, his powers allowed him to grow and adapt to opponents, creating technological marvels that surpassed anything a mundane man could create. Over the years his armor had transformed from a simple power armor into a mass of contingencies. He had weapons and tech for dealing with almost every cape in the city and then some.

But Lung…

Armsmaster bit back a frustrated growl as his motorcycle roared through the streets, the flashing lights on the front clearing away what little late-night traffic still remained. The comforting thrum of his bike did little to ease his irritation at the gang leader. It wasn't even so much his actions that angered him so, though he did find them despicable, but rather the power that Lung possessed.

The ability to continue growing in strength as a battle progressed was a horrendously broken ability. It made defeating him conventionally difficult, if not impossible. To little force and Lung would shake it off and grow stronger. Too much force and it was likely that Lung would be killed, and though Armsmaster wouldn't shed any tears over the gang leader, he wasn't an executioner. Until they slapped a kill order on the man the Protectorate had to play by the rules. Which meant figuring out a way to defeat Lung without killing him.

Easier said than done, Armsmaster thought as he swerved to avoid a clearly intoxicated driver. His helmet and bike mounted cameras flashed pictures of the car's license plates and forwarded them to the BBPD's alert system.

He had tried to develop counters to the draconian parahuman before, but they had all ended up failures. Attempts to cauterize wounds to slow down his healing were inefficient and ultimately counterproductive. Attrition didn't work against someone who only grew in power. A preemptive strike had some limited success, but ultimately it had the same issue even if Lung was ramped all the way up. To little force and it would only enrage him, too much and it would kill him.

His latest attempt held promise though. A powerful sedative that would be capable of slowing down if not outright stopping Lung's regeneration. Chemicals weren't his specialty, but he had enough research from various Tinkers, both villain and hero, to jumpstart the project. Even with that help, it had been a trying creation. It wasn't like mechanics where everything was ordered and structured. Creating a drug was chaotic and often prone to chance. It was more than a little frustrating for a perfectionist like himself to be thwarted at every turn because a pair of atoms wouldn't bond together. But months of research and errors had finally paid off. The drug had gone through numerous iterations, but he finally had a concoction that he believed would work.

Though successful or not, he had yet to submit it to the oversight committee to ensure the Tinker tech was safe to use in the field. It was all a farce really, and one that never failed to grate on his nerves.

Tinker tech couldn't be understood by conventional science, and yet those "experts" had the audacity to claim that he didn't understand the implications of his own tech? When had been the last time they had been in the field and needed a wrist mounted plasma cutter to slice through Hookwolf's armor? What use was PR when lives were on the line?

He followed the rules, of course, and he knew that they weren't just there to make his life miserable. History had shown them what happened when a new Tinker extended a little too far and it blew up in their faces. Het got it. But he was hardly a new Tinker who needed to be restrained. He was one of the best Tinkers in the world, he knew exactly what he was doing. But right now, they didn't have time to deal with rules and regulations, not when they had such an unprecedented chance to cripple the gangs.

The vials that he had managed to smuggle out from the Rig were stored safely away in his halberd. They weren't the version that he had given to the committee for review, but instead the previous iteration which had been ironically too powerful. But he couldn't risk the chance of Lung consolidating his power with the Empire on the back foot. It was a risk that he was going to have to take. And since there was no way for him to retrieve the final drug without raising suspicion, he had no recourse but this.

He knew that Piggot wouldn't call him out on it as long as he got the job done, but these last few weeks had demonstrated the folly of that way of thinking. Armsmaster grit his teeth beneath is helmet at the reminder of his failure, and it was his failure, not matter what anyone said. He was the leader of the Protectorate and should have kept a better eye on the Wards, regardless of Piggot's choice to put them under her authority.

What Sophia had done was antithetical to the very core ideals of the Protectorate. And thanks to her, half the city thought that they were either incompetent or uncaring to civilians. All because of his failure to keep the girl in line. That was on his head, as were all the lives she had ruined since her Wardship began.

After everything that had come out, the fact that they had been able to solve several unsolved murders that could be attributed to Sophia was less than surprising. If it wasn't for her mental break she would be rotting in juvenile detention, assuming she wasn't tried as an adult. And as for her part in creating Boogeyman, well he was far too frustrated with that situation to articulate his feelings coherently.

"I'm two minutes to rendezvous," Armsmaster said as the telltale glow in the distance drew closer and closer. Thick plumes of smoke rose up from the battlefield like a dark omen. Colin put a little more speed on as he tried to cut down the distance. The longer Lung fought, the more likely his fire would spread out of control. That was the real damage that was wrought from his battles more than anything, the burning infernos that were left in his path.

"Understood, Boogeyman is on the scene and assisting us for the time being," Miss Militia's voice said over the radio, tired and weary but alive. His lips twisted in distaste at the mention of the rouge parahuman, but he didn't fault her reasoning. Despite the arrest warrant out on Boogeyman's head Lung was the bigger threat, and any attempt to bring her in would unleash an inordinate amount of backlash from the public.

"Very well," Armsmaster replied, his voice toneless. Getting frustrated wouldn't get him anything at this point. He needed to focus on what was happening with Lung. Armsmaster brought his motorcycle to a stop at the PRT cordon. He gave a slight nod of acknowledgment to the men and women keeping any curious civilians away from the battle as he strode towards the carnage.

Crater lined the street as evidence of Lung's now immense size as torrents of flames jumped across the abandoned buildings. The silver scaled gang leader stood in the middle of what he could only describe to be a dance of destruction.

Militia was using a gun so powerful that in any other circumstances she would have been likely to face a hearing. As it was, bullets that give Hookwolf pause were washing off Lung like pellets of rain. Assault and Battery were working as the effective tag team that they were, but their ability to hurt Lung without being exposed to his flames was limited at best. His grip on his weapon tightened a bit as he spotted Boogeyman.

The young parahuman had a vicious look on her face, full of fangs and death. A dark glint in her eyes sent shivers down his spine as she swung a scythe that taller that he was. Dark masses of her minions harried Lung, drawing his attention away from her, nipping at his heels before scattering like rats. A cape that he didn't recognize was also on the frontline, dressed head to toe in a dark outfit with a skull mask to conceal their face. Armsmaster didn't recognize them, but judging by the way Lung's head would snap back and forth with each one of her equine assisted blows she was a powerful Brute. All in all, it was an effective strategy, which only proved how dangerous Lung was given that they didn't seem to be doing anything to him.

His scales remained relatively unblemished by the barrage of firepower upon him, but Armsmaster could tell that something was wrong. As big as he was, he should have been bigger. Using his onboard computer to compare previous conflicts with the gang leader revealed that at this point in the righting Lung should have been another five feet taller and have developed the ability to fly.

His wings were certainly there, but they were covered in silver scales, another oddity, and seemed to be using them as shields instead of locomotion for flight. More than that, the man's fighting style was strange. Even in his largest form Lung seemed to retain some form of his mind, a glint of viciousness in his eyes that never went out. He was brutal but effective in his attacks, using them to feed his own power before crushing all of his enemies.

There was none of that here.

Only an irrational madness that only seemed to make sense to Lung. He didn't seem to be focusing on the largest threat, but rather that he was chasing whatever had his attention at the time. There was no logic or efficiency to his actions, only a mindless rage.

On one hand that was good news, as irrational opponents were far easier to trick and maneuver. On the other hand, that meant that he had no idea what Lung might do in his current state. There was no telling what an irrational Lung might accomplish with his current size and power. It made his glad that he had smuggled out his drug and alleviated some of the guilt that he felt for breaking the rules like so.

Armsmaster activated his suit's sealant measures as he charged into the fight. His computer was already warning him of the intense heat, but he waved it off as he turned on the cooling countermeasures. They weren't perfect, but they would protect him long enough to get in close.

"I didn't think you wanted to fight Lung," he heard Boogeyman say once he got close enough. He twisted around to give Assault a glare from behind his mask as a chunk of debris moving at high speed passed far too close to him for comfort. Assault didn't give him a sheepish grin like he might in a less stressful situation, but instead just gave a hard nod. For all his faults Armsmaster would admit that once he got serious Assault was a terrifying opponent.

"You looked like you needed help," the second cape said. Armsmaster frowned behind his mask. There was something about that voice that he found oddly familiar, even with the slight distortion the mask was causing. But he didn't have time to concern himself with such things, even if such thoughts weren't breaking the unwritten rules.

Armsmaster rushed in-between the gap that Boogeyman and the unknown cape had made and slammed his halberd into Lung's scaled form. The halberd in question had been a previous attempt and failure at making an anti-Endbringer weapon, but it still had its uses. The blade would project a short lived hard-light structure around its edge, creating a sharpness that no ordinary blade could match. With his servo assisted arms, he was able to smash through Lung's scaled hide.

But his face twisted in shock behind his helmet as a new set of scales erupted from the man's skin in response with a speed that he had never demonstrated before. It moved so quickly that his blade almost got caught in-between the forming scales. As he wrenched it out, taking a few scales along with it, his suit's sensors screamed in warning as Lung's massive head bent down to tear him in two.

Armsmaster felt a pair of strong arms wrap underneath his armpits before he was pulled from the ground. Lung's face smashed into the spot he had been standing, shattering the asphalt. Armsmaster looked behind him to see the skeletal mask of the new cape as he was pulled to safety. The landed on the ground roughly, spider web cracks emerging from the cape's feet as they landed on the ground. Not a flier then, but a powerful enough Brute to make long jumps.

"Thank you," Armsmaster said somewhat awkwardly. In any other situation, he would most likely be trying to arrest the cape, assuming that she was allied with Boogeyman. But Lung was an A-Class threat and as such the rules of dealing with criminals could be bent in such situations.

"No problem," the masked cape said with a level of cavalier that made him pause. That type of calmness in the heat of battle wasn't something that could be faked or trained. That spoke of an experienced cape, not a fresh Trigger that had fallen into Boogeyman's hands. A rebranding then?

Lung's angry roar snapped him out of his musings. Rings of black sand surrounded his wrists, spinning like chainsaws in a clear effort to remove his hands. But if Lung was being harmed in any meaningful way by the attack he didn't show it, instead focusing his attention on a back of minions that cape a bit too close. Armsmaster winced at the high-pitch squeal of the horse-like minions as jets of flames spewed out from Lung's mouth.

Once he was a safe distance from the gang leader the masked cape set him down and charged back into the battle. Oddly enough her clothing wasn't singed at all in the attack, some kind of touch based invulnerability? In any case, Armsmaster realized that if he wanted to try and get through those thick scales he was going to have to immobilize the man first.

Using his eyes to manipulate his computer he reloaded his wrist launchers with the containment foam that he had onboard. As the launchers loaded with a sharp click Armsmaster moved in with a speed that some would find surprising coming from a man in a suit of armor. Powerful servos assisted the man as he pushed roughly half a ton of metal and circuitry towards the flaming giant. Once he had gotten back in range he fired.

The stream of white liquid almost immediately twisted to expand as it struck the air, but not before it fell onto Lung like a rolling tide. Lung roared in defiance as the white substance covered him with varying degrees of success, but he was far too large at this point to get all of him with what little supply Armsmaster had in his suit.

But it was more than enough to prove irritating to the man. One of his hands was caught in the blast in a reflexive effort to shield himself. More of it moved to uselessly cover his side while some ran down his leg, encasing his knee to that he couldn't bend it. Part of it even managed to splash over the upper part of Lung's face, covering one of his eyes in a layer of thick foam.

Lung howled in rage at his impediment, ripping and tearing at the afflicted areas. Boogeyman's minions descended on the man like a pack of starving dogs, slashing at the scales with all that they could muster. They did little in the end, but they were distracting enough to set up his shot.

There was a small puff of pressurized air at the tip of his halberd as the dart shot up into Lung's open mouth. Lung's blazing eye turned towards him, but Armsmaster wasn't too worried. Once the serum worked its way into his system thanks to his heightened adrenaline he would be down in a minute or two. Lung howled as a black spear followed his example and punctured the inside of his mouth, red blood flowing out his fanged lips. But even as Boogeyman pulled back Lung ripped the offending weapon out of his mouth and turned his attention to the containment foam.

At first, Armsmaster wasn't too worried. While containment foam wasn't indestructible, it did take a tremendous amount of force to break the bonds between the chemical agents. Lung's personal inferno might eventually weaken it, but it was going to take time the gang leader didn't have.

Then Lung ripped his face off and Armsmaster had to reassess the situation.

It wasn't too unusual for Lung to remove body parts that were damaged or restrained once he had become powerful enough, but it was usually with a bit more finesse. More to the fact, the way that his malformed face started to repair itself once he had torn the parts that had been covered in foam off healed far too quickly. Even if it hadn't brought him down yet the formula should have been enough to slow down his regeneration. Instead, it remained unchanged as ever, quickly repairing the self-inflicted damage.

Perhaps it didn't deploy? Armsmaster mused as he dodged Lung's sweeping tail before delivering a retaliatory strike of his own. His blade only bounced off of Lung's armored wing as it unfolded to shield the gang leader. It was possible that the extreme heat had managed to melt the dart's triggering mechanism, but that wasn't too big of a problem, he had two more at the ready.

Even as his suit's warning systems came online as the internal temperature started to heat up he focused on making his next shot. His opportunity came as Lung ripped his imprisoned hand off, exposing his flesh to the world. Even as his bones and scales started to regrow Armsmaster fired. This time he was able to watch as the dark sunk into the man's muscles, pumping the serum through his bloodstream.

But even as Armsmaster jumped back to let his suit's internal cooling system calm down he couldn't help but frown behind his helmet. There was still no visible reaction from Lung, and his healing seemed to remain as implacable as ever. More than that, but he hadn't appeared to have grown a single inch since he had entered combat.

Something was wrong.

A Trump? Armsmaster mused as an unfortunate car was flung directly into Lung's chest thanks to Assault's kinetic manipulation. The gang lord went flying back even as Boogeyman followed, scythe in hand and undaunted by the billowing flames.

"I need someone to contact the Think Tank and get some confirmation if Lung's powers have changed in any way," Armsmaster said over his radio. If Lung had someone managed to change his powers then they could be dealing with an even more serious problem. "Tell them I'm calling in my favor."

"Understood," Velocity replied, no doubt already on his way to pass the message along. But even with his friend's promise, he couldn't help but grimace at the entire situation.

The truth was that even if Lung's powers weren't changed in some way he doubted they would have been able to defeat the man without his drugs. They just didn't have a Brute powerful enough to engage Lung head on. He knew Piggot had been requesting for a transfer for years, but nothing had come of it. The only heroic Brutes in the city that could compete with Lung for a time were all in New Wave, who hadn't been taking many of their calls since the Shadow Stalker mess.

He doubted they would allow something like that to get in the way of helping beat Lung, but that didn't mean they simply didn't know about it because they weren't answering their phones. Which meant the only Brutes powerful enough to take Lung head on were Boogeyman and her new cape.

This is not an optimal situation, he groused as he shifted his wrist blaster to the anti-flame gas that had managed to acquire from another Tinker since Lung's last rampage. He didn't have much of it, but it wasn't as if he was going to find a better situation to use it in. As Lung regained his footing, Armsmaster charged forward, ready to take part in a battle he knew he couldn't win.

Jennifer grinned as she watched the assembly of ABB members that had followed her writhe on the ground in agony, courtesy of her pain bomb. It worked by setting off all of the pain receptors in a person's body through electrical currents and judging by the soundless screams they were unable to formulate it was quite successful. Jennifer pulled her gaze away from the display to focus on the battle below. She had more important things to do than care about the group that had kept her captive. Besides, they would live.

Probably.

Jennifer could feel rage blossom in her heart as the towering mass of muscle that was Lung ripped apart the street in a mindless violence befitting the gang leader. All that power at his fingertips and this is what he did with it?

Pathetic, Jennifer thought with a snarl. Once she had killed the fool and wrested control of the ABB from the remainder of the lieutenant she was going to do far more than play crime lord to this little backwater city. But she could plan her ascension to power later, right now she had to deal with Lung first. Once he was dead nothing would be able to stop her.

Jennifer pulled the bomb that she had been working on in secret. It looked no different than any of her other bombs, with a haphazard casing that revealed the lackluster quality of the materials she had been forced to work with. But despite its appearance, if everything worked out the way she had designed it to then it would be Lung's death. It was an actually rather simple variant of one of her glass bombs, but with some subtle differences with how it worked.

Most of her bomb were instantaneous but only affected a certain area. If something was one inch outside the radius of one of her standard glass bombs it would remain unaffected by the detonation. This glass bomb worked differently. Instead of simply transmuting the entire area, it would "feed" off of any organic material it was exposed to, turning it into glass.

Detonate it in a field of grass? It wouldn't stop until it ran out of plants to turn.

Certainly a risk given the possibility of it getting out of control, but it would ensure that even if Lung managed to avoid the initial blast it would still be more than deadly to him. It wouldn't matter how large he got in response to this, all it would do was add more fuel to feed the process. She would turn the very thing that gave him strength into his downfall.

I better get on with that, Jennifer thought, tearing her thoughts away from amusing daydreams of Lung begging for mercy. It would so much better to see in in real life. The bomb Tinker loaded the explosive into her modified grenade launcher and prepared to fire. She was hardly an expert shot by any stretch of the imagination, but with Lung as big as he was, missing was unlikely. Besides, she only needed to get the tiniest part of him inside the detonation radius for the process to begin.

The man's silver torso took up the entirety of her scope, aside from the occasional waves of black from Boogeyman and her minions. She was sorely tempted to try and get the little shadow brat too, but if there was one thing that she had learned from the ABB it was the virtue of patience. She would get her revenge on Boogeyman soon enough, but she wanted to savior it, to revel in the girl's defeat at the hands of her better.

Jennifer felt joy swell in her heart as she squeezed the trigger and the bomb shot through the air. The seemingly small and otherwise harmless devices arced up before racing back down towards the ground. For a brief moment, Lung's head twisted towards her position and Jennifer felt a sting of terror at the sight of a pair of blazing stars of hate. Molten salvia dripped from a maw that could devour her whole with room to spare. But her fear quickly turned to excitement as the bomb struck the man's chest and detonated in a flash of blindly bright light.

Lung's screams were music to her ears.

Jennifer watched with undisguised glee as scales and flesh turned into lifeless glass in the blink of an eye, racing across his form in a wave of death. The process wasn't instantaneous, she had made sure of that. She wanted Lung to suffer, to know in his dying moments that he was bested by her, the one that he had dismissed as a tool, a slave. He would feel his own body turn to glass as every inch of his flesh was agonizingly transmuted.

But her satisfied smile quickly turned to a surprised frown as sections of Lung's glass body shattered, as if he was flexing ice off his limbs. Fresh scales popped out underneath, like flowers erupting from a melting snowbank.

That…isn't possible, Jennifer thought with a chill of fear. Lung had never demonstrated the ability to heal like that before, and he defiantly shouldn't have been able to outpace the effects of her bomb. She did manage to calm herself a little bit, reminding herself that his healing factor would only feed the bomb's effects even more. It didn't matter how much he healed, he wouldn't be able to stop it.

But Jennifer's rationalizations of her success quickly fell to the wayside as it happened again, and again. Glass would encase parts of Lung's body, even going as deep as his organs, but each time the glass shattered, revealing newly formed flesh underneath. All the while he was still fighting the other combatants, and as far as she could tell, he was winning.

He should be dead, the bomb Tinker screamed in the silence of her mind. He shouldn't be able to move, much less fight.

Though perhaps fighting might have been a bit of an exaggeration. It was true that Lung was still being assailed by the heroes and Boogeyman, but he didn't appear to be doing much to them purposefully. He made swipes at them, but he seemed to be distracted by the smallest of things, a far cry from the focused gang leader that she had grown to despise.

His brain might be getting damaged, the still rational part of her mind whispered as she watched the battle with growing dread. If Lung's mine was constantly being transmuted back and forth like the rest of his body was, then it was likely he wasn't capable of rational thought if he was capable of any thought really.

With a shaky hand, Jennifer reached down into her back of tricks. She hadn't been able to collect too many of her creations before she had all but been shoved out the door at gun point, and what she did grab was hardly the cream of the crop. Only a few of them had any truly exotic effects, and those that did wouldn't be able to kill Lung if he could survive that.

Jennifer's breath left her body as Lung's burning gaze swept back towards her. She barely had a second to move before a stream of fire so hot that it could felt through steel like butter. Jennifer didn't even have time to think as she threw herself to the side, narrowly dodging the blast of flames as it ate away at the spot she had just been standing like a hungry beast. The Tinker heaved in mild shock even as she felt blisters break out across her skin.

I—I need to get out of here, Jennifer wailed in her mind as she pulled herself up from the ground. She paid the still writhing gang members no mind as she raced to the way they came, eager to get as far away from Lung as she possibly could. She didn't know if Lung would remember what transpired here tonight, or if he was even going to survive, but she wasn't too eager to find out.

If he died in combat then she still had to prepare to take over the gang. If he did survive, well Jennifer had a feeling that she was going to have a lot more to worry about than simply trying to take over a gang.

The part of her that wasn't trembling in sheer terror at the display of power that her enslaver had just demonstrated was practically boiling with rage. She had been bested by that brainless slab of muscle once again, and this time it didn't even appear to be intentional on his part.

This isn't how it was supposed to go!

Jennifer had never liked failure. The idea that she could be "not good enough" at something always grated on her nerves. Her failure at being recognized for her genius at Cornell haunted her like a cold specter, a black mark at her otherwise extraordinary track record. And now here she was again, unable to prove her superiority because of Lung. Because that idiot couldn't just stay down and die!

She needed something bigger, better. Something that the mere threat of using would make Lung cower and make nations notice her potential, her genius. Ideas started to flow through her head as she raced back towards the ABB warehouse. No more waiting, no more miss nice bomber. She would teach those idiots to fear her. She would show them the heights that her genius could go and they would gasp in awe and tremble in terror.

Boogeyman wasn't sure how long she had been fighting. Minutes? Hours? It was hard to tell when she didn't have any real measure of exhaustion to judging the passing of time by. She supposed, in the end, it didn't matter because however long it had been, it hadn't been long enough to put Lung down.

It should have been.

There should have been no way that anything could survive what Lung had been through. He had been injected with a serum that was supposed to slow down his healing if what she got from Armsmaster's fears of not working were true. He was hit with an explosive that appeared to be turning him into glass. He was facing her and a good chunk of the local Protectorate alongside her and Vicky.

Vicky had long since pulled back from engaging Lung directly and had taken up throwing chunks of debris at the towering man in an effort to distract him. Chunks of concrete that could have crushed cars bounced off him like beach balls. Miss Militia's bullets shed against his scales like water. They probably would have all been dead if it wasn't for Lung's scales turning into glass. Attacking the spaces of his body that were being transmuted so far had been the only reliable method of harming Lung.

Blood and guts were strewn across the ground as she shoved another spear into the man's glass gut, ripping up the dragon's insides. It healed over just as it had a thousand times before, but it was getting slower. It was hardly a snail's pace, but it was certainly a marked difference from what it had been after the man's change. Perhaps Armsmaster's drug hadn't been as useless as it had first appeared.

"Why. Won't. You. Stay. Down." Boogeyman growled out between her gnashing teeth as she tried to carve Lung's throat out with her scythe. There was no amusement or even fear in the man's aura, only a burning endless rage. She had backed the rat into a corner and now it was lashing out.

At this point, she was the only one who could withstand being so close to Lung's inferno for an extended period of time and even so it was hardly a pleasant experience. Fire so bright it turned night to day had engulfed several buildings, revealing the draconian gang lord's form in all its horrible glory. Battery could only engage for a second or two at best, and already had some pretty nasty burns to show what happened when she mistimed it. Armsmaster was the only other one who could withstand Lung's flames and live thanks to his suit. He still had to back down every now and then to let his suit cool down, but Boogeyman would have been lying that she wasn't grateful for the assistance.

Speaking of which…

Boogeyman pulled to the side to give room for the aforementioned Tinker. His iconic beard was sealed away behind a full-face plate, but that did little to hide how he felt from her. She could feel the coils of fear wrapped around him, the concern of losing and letting Lung go free eating away at him like a cancer. But despite that, the man didn't allow is fear to paralyze his actions, and instead focused all of his effort on bringing Lung down.

The tip of Armsmaster's halberd slammed into a section of Lung's sternum that had transformed into glass, shattering the whole thing. White fumes erupted from the shaft of the weapon, coating Lung's exposed skin in ice. Boogeyman could see that the healing flesh was already pushing against the frozen portions, but it was much slower than what she expected it to be. It appeared that even Lung's newfound healing had its limits.

But defeating Lung in this fashion would take time, and the man didn't appear to be tiring. She wasn't tiring either, but the same couldn't be said for any of the other combatants. Boogeyman was about to make a comment to Armsmaster about it when the man's head tilted to the side as if he was listening to something. Boogeyman could feel threads of curiosity and slight alarm pass through the man.

"Fall back, support is on the way," Armsmaster said, his voice echoing through a pair of speakers on his throat. Boogeyman was skeptical of what backup could possibly take this beast down, but she was willing to listen to the man for a time. She impaled a spear into one of Lung's burning eyes one last time before pulling back along with Armsmaster. Her Nightmares were still keeping Lung busy, and by the looks of it, the man hadn't even noticed that they had left, so lost in his rage and pain for any coherent thought.

"So, what backup do you have that could possibly stop that?" Boogeyman said as she came to a stop where the other heroes had gathered. Deimos stood behind her, a small tinge of nervousness eating its way into her psyche. She supposed standing on the opposite side of the heroes would certainly be a jarring experience for the girl.

Miss Militia looked like she was about to say something when a bolt of energy lanced out from the billowing clouds of smoke. The blueish pillar struck Lung's torso with the force of a wrathful god, taking a good chunk of his chest along with it. Boogeyman looked up to see Legend burst forth from the clouds, hands lit up with residual energy.

"Never mind," Boogeyman said, somewhat cowed by the almost casual display of power. She had been able to do worse to Lung earlier, but it had taken her all. If Legend was capable of something like that in the few seconds that he was present, what else could he do?

Perhaps even more awe-inspiring than Legend's display of power was that Lung was still getting up. There was a hole in his chest that she could fit through with relative ease and his spine had all but been vaporized and he was still fighting. Lung's serpentine neck twisted around as he fired a stream of flames as the Triumvirate Blaster. Instead of dodging, Legend fired another beam and struck the inferno head on.

Billowing clouds of steam erupted from their point of impact as superheated air met Legend's freezing laser. Lung howled in defiance as another beam struck him, this time in the neck. Scales and flesh gave way under the mind-numbing barrage as Legend let lose enough firepower to level a building. Boogeyman could only watch as Lung's neck severed in two, depositing his head on the ground.

Lung wasn't dead, Boogeyman could see that what little of his neck was still twitching and the bottomless pit of rage that had overtaken his mind had yet to dissipate. She could see flesh and bone emerging from the stump of his neck, but even with his healing speed, it would be a long time before he was a threat again. How he was even alive after all that was still a mystery to her, but powers were weird like that.

Boogeyman couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease as Legend floated down to their position. This was one of the strongest heroes in the nation, if not the world. While she didn't doubt her fighting abilities, she knew that she would akin to a fly splattering against a windshield. His expression was carved from stone, but to her, he was a swirling eddy of emotion. She could feel his concern over the entire situation bubbling to the surface, but there were deeper fears down there. Most of them were rather mundane for the most part, fear of losing his family and the like, but there were some more interesting ones down there.

He was afraid that he wasn't living up to the image he presented, doubts and concerns over what his friends were doing eating away at his soul, a noxious poison that made him look the rest of the Triumvirate with a wary eye. Boogeyman steeled her expression at the brief glimpse of a silvery vial that flashed in the very back of his mind, far away from the front of her thoughts. Battery had long since been pulled out, but she could still remember that same type of vial flashing through the woman's mind.

The brighter the light, the darker the shadow.

"Secure the villain," Legend said, his voice as commanding as the media liked to portray it as. Some might even call it friendly, but Boogeyman could see some of the darker emotions waging their way to the surface of the man's mind. Boogeyman could feel a tendril of terror wrap around Victoria's heart as Legend turned to face them.

"I understand that this was all your doing," Legend said, arms crossed and expression stern. There were hints of disapproval and anger in the man's aura, but none of the fear that she had become accustomed to. But despite the fact that one of the most powerful Blasters on the planet was staring her down after demonstrating why he had earned that title, Boogeyman couldn't help but rather irritated with the blame being thrust on her shoulders. It reminded her too much of Winslow, practically begging for the teachers to do something only for her to get a reprimand for making a fuss about such trivial matters.

Boogeyman didn't quite bare her fangs, but her expression did twist into a more aggressive look. Legend's arms unfolded, faint traces of energy dancing along his fingertips as the rest of the Protectorate followed his lead. If it wasn't for Victoria putting her hand on her shoulder to pull her back she might have done something…. stupid. Which was fortunate, because she had lost a decent number of her Nightmares thanks to Lung.

"If you mean taking steps to make sure that Lung can't hurt any more innocent civilians again, then yes, this was all my doing," Boogeyman said, lips twisting into a frown. Legend only sighed in response. She could feel a number of emotions rolling under the man's skin, too quick and mixed for her to identify which one was taking dominance over him.

"Technically I should be trying to arrest you," Legend said, making Boogeyman tense up. She wasn't eager to get into a fight with Legend, but if she had to defend herself she would. "However, you did assist in taking down Lung, even if you were the one to start the engagement. And there's been enough fighting for tonight," he said, looking over to the bruised and battered members of the local Protectorate.

Boogeyman gave the man a searching gaze, looking for any sign of duplicity. But to her surprise, the man was being honest, or at the very least his emotions were being honest. Boogeyman gave the older man a slight nod, "Very well. Deimos, we're going."

"Boogeyman. Taylor," Legend said as a pair of Nightmares ghosted back over to them. She couldn't help but flinch a little at her name, but she turned around to look Legend in the eyes. "I understand wanting to do more, really I do. But this isn't the way to go about things. Please, if we can talk this out I'm sure we can figure something out. I understand if you never want to work with the Protectorate, but there's a better way than this," he said as he waved his hands out to the wrecked street.

There was a pleading edge to Legend's voice, a slight desperation that he openly showed. She could feel his fear of failing her, of allowing her to turn into a monster like so many others had before her. Whatever secrets that he was hiding behind his mask, he was being sincere about this. He honestly didn't want her to become a monster.

Too late.

"Oh, Legend," Boogeyman said with a sad smile as she gave Phobia a pat on the snout. "It's far too late for that."

"Do you have a shot?"

The normally calm and collected voice of his boss had a rather ragged edge to it. It was something that he was going to want to keep an eye on, panicking bosses tended to get their employees killed.

"Yeah, I got her lined up," the codenamed Falcon said over his earpiece as he stared down the scope of his rifle. The teenage cape's head wasn't directly in his crosshairs, but a little below it to adjust for the distance between him. Even with the Tinker tech lasers, he was using there was a slight drag thanks to gravity.

A lesser man might balk at killing a kid, but Falcon had no such qualms. It was a harsh world out there, and one needed to grow past all that morality trash they tried to push onto you. He didn't know what the kid had done to piss the boss off so much, but he didn't care either way. All that mattered was that nice little bonus he would be getting at the end of the day once she was down and out.

"Do it."

Falcon could feel the trigger shift as he squeezed down, ready to blow the head off the troublesome cape. A bolt of pure sunlight erupted from the barrel of his rifle, the blasting noise masked by the Tinker tech silencer and the music player that he had cranked up all the way to drown out the noise to the neighbors. He would have thanked the occupants for their donation of the player, but they were all too dead to care.

Of course, it was at that moment that the girl's position in space shifted as one of her minions rose up beneath her.

Boogeyman wasn't sure what had happened.

One moment she was mounting Phobia, the next there was a tearing, screeching noise and pain.

She lurched forwards as something punched its way through her stomach. Balance lost, she slid off her steed's back and fell to the ground with a thud. She could distantly hear someone calling out her name, but all she could focus on was the smoking hole in her chest. Darkness dissipated of her form like smoke from a fire as she struggled to move.

A pair of hands wrapped around her and pulled her from the ground as another beam of pure light lanced towards her. She hissed as it struck her side, punching another hole straight through her form. She tried to make out what was going on, but everything was a blur. She could feel herself being loaded onto something before the agony finally became too much and she passed out from exhaustion.

"Is the target dead?"

Falcon swallowed somewhat nervously at the dangerous tone his boss had. It was clear that he expected results, and in all honesty, he should have. He had the perfect shot, ruined because the little brat couldn't stay still for one second longer.

"No," he ground out even as he packed up his weapon. He doubted they would figure out where he had made the shot from, but it was best not to press his luck. He had already made one mistake too many tonight.

"I see," his boss said in a tone that sent chills up his spine. That wasn't the voice of a very happy boss. That was the tone of someone who wanted to beat your head into the ground for doing something stupid voice. "Meet me back at the base, we'll go over your failure."

The line shut with a click, much to Falcon's relief, though he doubted the conversation he was going to have with the boss would be too pleasant. Still, the man was more rational than some of the villains he had worked for in the past, so at the very least he wouldn't have to worry about being skinned alive. He was probably going to get a pay cut, but that was preferable to being dead.

No, it wasn't the best situation but he would be okay. All he would have to do was keep his cool and have a nice chat with the boss, then everything would be alright.

Soon…

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