A/N:

Welcome, one and all, to the newest chapter of DESTINATION: INSERT! A bit of forewarning, this chapter happens two days after the previous one. Canon has, so far, continued on in the background, so the bank robbery has happened (although Panacea wasn't there for reasons that will be explained in this chapter) and Bakuda is working on being the evil psychotic bitch we all know and love to hate.

With that bit of clarification out of the way, however, let's get right into this!

DISCLAIMER: Wow, look at all this money I don't have! It's almost like I'm not a good enough writer to have made Worm and Ward!

{EARTH BET}

{APRIL 14, 2011}

{BROCKTON BAY GENERAL HOSPITAL, BROCKTON BAY}

I raised my tentacles above my head as I slowly awoke-

My throat let out a low growl as my tail whipped to the side-

All eleven of my eyes opened at the same time as I-

My reintroduction to consciousness was a strange one. Instead of the groggy awakening I had when I was tranquilized, this time it almost felt like I was a different person, or even a different species. Shaking the strange thoughts away, I reached for my wrist computer to contact someone.

It took a moment to realize it had been removed, so I changed my plan and pressed the nurse call button instead. While I waited for someone to show up, I was having a heated debate with Queenie in my head.

What's with all the weird memories?

[CYCLE] [HARVEST] [REPEAT]

They're… things that were harvested, like humans are going to be? The fuck do you mean we're all going to be 'harvested'?

[CYCLE] [IMPERATIVE] [DIRECTIVE]

It's your primary directive to give people powers and make said people use them, until this… Zion recalls all of you? Which would, of course, cause everyone to die quite horribly, before Zion and his partner wipe out the planet and every alternate of it?

[CONFIRMATION]

And they do this to… what? Get power, so that they can live forever? So that they can discover a way to stop the heat death of the universe? That's ridiculous. Hell, the amount of energy required to completely destroy several alternates of each planet would barely allow them to gain anything from it, it'd be like burning eight dollars just cause someone bet you ten that you wouldn't. There's got to be something more to it than just energy.

[ANGER] [CYCLE] [IMPERATIVE] [DIRECTIVE]

Yes, I get that you've been programmed to do this one thing, but what I'm saying is that it's stupid! Hell, there's no way any of this is profitable in the long run anyway, all you'd accomplish is killing off hundreds of sentient species before you finally die, either when the universe does or when you run out of species to seed with powers. What happens then, when you run out of planets that support life?

[… CONFUSION] [ANGER] [CYCLE] [IMPER-]

"Yes, I get it, the Cycle is important, whatever," I grumbled, deciding not to continue arguing with the deluded piece of crystalline computer code. Seriously, the only reason it had anything approaching the ability to think was because it was programmed to do so in order to regulate its 'host'.

And that's another thing. This whole 'Cycle' thing? Absolutely no way this wouldn't end badly for us. The most powerful and popular hero in the world being a genocidal space whale? I can just imagine the look on Armsmaster's face when I tell him that…

Actually, seeing that would almost make the whole 'pending eradication of the human species' thing worth it.

Speaking of the tin man, however, he just walked in the door, along with a nurse. "War Machine. It is… good, to see you awake. Is there anything you can tell us about why you fell unconscious?"

The nurse looked a bit annoyed, probably because he cut straight to the point before she could check on me, but we both ignored her. "Sir, I have bad news and worse news. I found out where powers come from, and–"

"I'm sure this is fascinating and all, but I need to check on the patient," the nurse cut in snappily. I waved her off before she could start, however.

"Look, lady, right now we have more important things to deal with than a bit of possible nerve damage. My power tells me I'm not going to die in the next few hours, which means I have enough time to talk before you check on me, alright? Armsmaster, sir, this is an extremely important matter that should really be left between the two of us right now."

Now, normally I would be a bit more standoffish, but gaining in-depth knowledge of just how everything was going to die soon really takes the fun out of it. I needed everyone's help, I couldn't be picky.

Armsmaster gestured for the nurse to leave, and she did, glaring all the while. When she was gone, he shut the door and turned back to me. "What do you have to report?"

"As I was saying before I was interrupted, I fell unconscious while talking to my power. I was curious, and asked where powers came from. The answer… was far more in-depth than I had expected, and my brain wasn't able to process the influx of information. During… however long I was passed out, I've been getting… visions, I guess would be the best term for it, from my brain converting the concepts to images that were easier to understand."

"While this is interesting, what does this have to do with the 'bad and worse news' you mentioned?" he gets right to the point. Normally it'd be rude but right now it was helpful, made it easier to focus my thoughts.

"Alright, well, this is going to blow a lot of minds and make a lot more very, very worried. You'll probably want to record this actually," I waited for him to set up a camera before continuing.

"So… powers are made and distributed by Scion, actually named Zion, and sent out to anyone who has a chance of achieving mental instability in their life. When and if they achieve this instability, the power alters their Corona Pollentia and Gemma in order to allow an… interface, for the power to work through. While the power is altering the "power centers" of the brain, it also makes tweaks to brain chemistry in order to make the recipient of the power more likely to both use it and fight against others, so that the power can gain information and data about alternate uses and such.

"These tweaks are, most of the time, not very noticeable. For instance, if someone has the ability to create creatures like Nilbog does, then the tweaks will mess with empathy and disgust, making it easier for the person to rationalize turning people into monsters. Of course, as shards search for people who would be willing to use them in the first place, sometimes tweaks aren't needed whatsoever.

"The worst part about all of this, is that these powers are literally part of Scion. As in, the things that make powers work are literally pieces of Scion's body that were detached and reprogrammed to go through the motions and produce an effect whenever their host's mind tells them to. The Manton Effect? Complete bullshit, any and all limits placed on powers are artificial. Queenie is… broken, in a way, she doesn't seem to have been programmed like the others were.

"Anyway, once certain criteria are met, all of these shards are recalled back to Scion and his partner. This process is… very lethal to any current parahumans, and afterwards the two of them destroy any and all parallel versions of the planet. After that, everything starts getting fuzzy, but there's something about reproducing from the energy of the explosion or something.

"I don't think I need to tell you why this is capital-B Bad, but there is a silver lining: Scion's partner is either missing or dead. He doesn't know where she is, and luckily for us she was the brains of the operation. Oh, sure, he isn't an idiot, but his partner was the one to decide what powers to distribute and when to kill everyone. That means we have a chance to defeat him, and prevent literally every human in existence from being wiped out completely.

"So… what do we do now, sir?" I asked.

I had absolutely no idea how to deal with this. Oh, sure, I had all the information, or at least the important bits, but I was in no way the type of tactical genius we'd need to defeat a being with literally all the powers, especially one that literally specialized enough in fighting that its title was "The Warrior". So, all I could do was tell everyone what I knew, and pray that capital-G God was on our side, because the lowercase-g one wasn't.

Armsmaster simply stood there for a moment, before raising an eyebrow under his visor. "Well? I'm waiting."

… What?

"Uh, sir… I just explained…" suddenly something clicked. If shards are parts of Scion, and can affect the mind of their host, then that means… "Sir, we have a bigger issue than I thought. We need to see the Director, right now. Bring the recording as well, please."

The hero let out an annoyed scoff, but pulled out a wheelchair for me since I still couldn't quite walk properly. Once I was settled, we made our way outside, where a PRT van was waiting for us.

{EARTH BET}

{APRIL 14, 2011}

{PRT ENE HEADQUARTERS, BROCKTON BAY}

"War Machine, I have had an extremely trying day. If it isn't about the end of the damn world, I don't want to hear it right now," Piggot growled.

I dismissed my curiosity about just what had made the day trying for her, and got straight to the point. "Armsmaster, please show her the recording. Director, we have a much bigger problem than whatever you're currently dealing with."

She scowled, but I watched her expression slowly change as she watched the recording. On the way here, I had Armsmaster watch it again to confirm my hypothesis. True to my expectations, he forgot all the information the moment he heard about where shards come from, likely a failsafe to prevent the seeded species from making plans against the entities.

The moment that the recording finished, Piggot turned to glare at me. "Is this true?"

"To the best of my knowledge, yes. I think my shard wasn't actually meant to be released as early as it was, because I don't have the limitations that most Tinkers or parahumans do. Not to mention I can actually talk to my power. Judging by Armsmaster, I don't think anyone who got their powers from Scion will be able to remember anything we tell them about this issue. Look, Director, I know we don't see eye to eye, but right now this is bigger than the both of us.

"As soon as you dismiss me, I'm going to go to the Scrapyard, and I'm going to pull out all the stops. I'm going to let my nanobots go wild, and I'm going to create weapons of mass destruction that would get me thrown in the Birdcage or saddled with a Kill Order in a heartbeat, because even those will barely be able to help us. We need to get the Chief Director in on this, and tear out all the regulations, because if we don't we're all going to die."

"Absolutely not!" Piggot shouted, scowling, "You are going to stay in this room while I contact the Chief Director, and you are going to tell her everything you know about this 'Cycle'. Armsmaster, you're dismissed, report to Master/Stranger confinement until we can be sure that whatever is erasing your memories hasn't turned you into a timebomb."

My fellow Tinker clenched his teeth in annoyance but nodded and made his way out of the room. The moment he was gone, the Director gestured for me to sit down and pressed a button on her desk. A holographic display lit up, and the Chief Director's face appeared on the screen.

"Director Piggot. What do you need?"

"I have information on both the source of parahuman abilities, and on the end of the world." Well, she certainly got straight to the heart of the matter.

The Chief Director looked surprised, before turning to annoyance, "Director, this had better not be a joke, or I'll strip you of your position and have you brought up on charges so fast you won't have time to grab your dialysis machine."

Dialysis? Huh, I always thought she was just overweight, didn't realize she had a medical reason. Maybe I could… I shook my head to clear my thoughts and turned back to the conversation.

"As I told you earlier this week, the newest Ward of the East-Northeast division has the ability to supposedly speak to his power. Two days ago, he fell into a deep coma. He woke up today, and has informed me that, apparently, he asked his power where it came from, and the information overload knocked him unconscious. Upon awakening, he informed Armsmaster of the information he received, however Armsmaster has no memory of any information despite recording the event and watching said recording. I've already forwarded the video to you, along with a video of Armsmaster during War Machine's presentation of this information," Piggot said, gesturing towards me.

We both watched as the Chief Director looked over the information sent to her. Her expression slowly grew even stonier than before, and she turned to us once she finished. "War Machine. Do you understand the implications of this information you have revealed?"

A jolt of annoyance shot through me, but I pushed it down. "I have the memories of the dozens of users of Queen Warfare before me, and I've witnessed dozens of worlds ending around me. Trust me, Director, I know the implications far more than you do."

Chief Director Costa-Brown's eyebrow rose. "You have the memories of the previous users of your power? Is there anything there we can use against Scion?"

"Unfortunately not," I frowned, "because his companion always made sure to keep their actions hidden until the final push, so to speak. Most of the memories begin with a normal day and end with the sudden deaths of anyone with powers, and shortly after the world itself exploding. Hell, I only know about the world exploding because a few of the aliens were barely able to survive their shards being harvested and lived just long enough to see it."

"Has your power provided you with information on any abilities that could harm them?"

Queenie?

[REFUSAL]

… What?

"I… think I just got told to fuck off. She's never ignored a question before…"

The two women exchanged a glance, before Piggot snorted. "That's not worrying at all…"

"Either way," Costa-Brown took control again, "your power is a crucial well of information. I had planned to send an expert on powers to speak with you, but instead I'll be sending Alexandria to speak with you in person. Perhaps her Thinker power will be able to discover more."

That… didn't quite make sense. Sure, Alexandria was a Thinker, but surely there were better ones to draw from? Piggot seemed to share my sentiments, "What about the Think Tank, Chief Director?"

"The Think Tank is unable to get a read on War Machine, likely due to his power interfering with their own," she explained.

Wait, I'm immune to Thinkers? Why?

[POSSESSION] [SMUGNESS]

"… According to Queenie, I'm apparently 'hers'. She won't allow any other powers to gather information on me through her it seems, which basically results in a low-level Stranger power where most Thinkers just see me as a normal human."

Honestly, there was something wrong about my power. Even with it being as broken and unrestricted as it was, it should still be limited to its purpose: Warfare. So why was it able to do so much else? Just because it could think for itself?

Costa-Brown's voice drew me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see the worried look on her face. "That is… problematic. Especially as it invalidates any precog abilities used in your general area, due to them being unable to account for your actions. Perhaps if you were relocated…"

Piggot immediately protested, but I cut them both off, glaring. "No way in hell. I'm not going to leave my little brother and move to some facility in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, it's not happening."

The Chief Director frowned, "I don't think you realize your position. You signed a contract to join the Wards, which includes following any orders you are given. Whether you like them or not."

"I'm also your only source of information on Scion and powers in general, or at least the most accessible. Pretty sure stopping the end of the world takes precedence over anything else, right?"

Piggot seemed torn between anger and amusement at my rebuke, while Costa-Brown just scowled. "Be that as it may, if your presence is actively working against our efforts then your usefulness may run out sooner rather than later. Do you understand that?"

[ANGER] [POSSESSION] [SELFISHNESS]

[CONFLICT]

"Oh, absolutely your highness. But let me tell you something: I have the memories of alien races that even George Lucas couldn't dream of. Do you really think none of them would have experience dealing with manipulation or coercion such as blackmail? The only, and I mean the only leverage you have on me is my little brother. That Birdcage threat you gave me? No way in hell you'd throw me in there. I'd be dead within the hour, and then who would give you the info you need? Any physical threats? Go ahead, I have vivid memories of multiple equivalents of brains melting and bodies exploding from the inside. Mind control? Even if you had access to a Master that powerful, Queenie would rather kill me than let someone else play with her toy.

"So, the only thing left is my brother. You kill him and I'm going to create the most powerful death ray I can and shoot the PRT headquarters with it, and if you hurt him I'll do the same. Keep him safe, and close to me, and I'll do what you want. That's the only real choice you have here and we both know it. Now, maybe we can stop the dick measuring and get to the topic of saving the fucking world."

Piggot's face had grown stormier and stormier as I ranted, and the Chief Director had gone still. "… Very well. Your PRT-approved foster home will be ready in two days, and your brother will be there. In exchange, however, you will tell us whenever you receive any additional information, and you will build anything we tell you to, when we tell you to. If you do not comply fully with this agreement, your brother will be put in foster care far away from you and you will be placed in a maximum-security PRT prison for the rest of your life. Do you understand?"

Her voice wasn't quite 'I'm gonna kill you', but it was certainly threatening enough that I bit down my instinctive retort. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she growled, and the hologram shut off as she ended the call.

Piggot and I exchanged a glance, before she glared and gestured for me to leave the room with a "We will have words later."

I just nodded, walking out of the office and making a beeline to the Scrapyard.

{EARTH BET}

{APRIL 14, 2011}

{PRT ENE HEADQUARTERS, BROCKTON BAY}

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the Scrapyard was that most of the materials had been moved. The second thing I noticed was the same lab coat-wearing power tester that I saw during my first trip here, back before everything got weird.

Actually, being a parahuman was still pretty weird even back then, so maybe just before everything went to shit.

"Hey there kiddo! Looking to do some Tinkering?"

… I swear to all that's holy, I will kill this asshole if he doesn't stop talking. "Yes, actually. Now where the hell is my stuff?"

He had the audacity to chuckle, "You know, it's not actually your 'stuff', Kyle. The PRT supplies the materials in this room for power testing, and since your testing has been moved back for a while, there's no reason to keep it stocked. I'm sure you could ask Armsmaster about using his workshop though, he might not even hit you with his halberd."

[CONFLICT]

… Alright, he asked for it.

My response came in the form of a hard right cross, followed by a left jab and an uppercut. Surprisingly, the man had some combat training, but my own mind had the memories of several humanoid species, some of those similar enough to human that their martial arts were translatable to human ones. So, I practically flowed around his counterattacks and blocks using memories from the Liqua, I punched with the aggressive techniques of the Kithar, and grappled with the forms of the Serpi.

Against most opponents, I wouldn't have stood much of a chance, but against an out-of-shape beanpole of a scientist my skill was more than enough. Barely a dozen moves later and I had him on the ground, one arm twisted painfully behind his back and the other held out to the side by my other hand. Before he could do anything to escape, my knee hit the back of his head hard enough to rattle his brain and knock him unconscious.

I stepped away from the man, raising my fist as I-

What the fuck am I doing?!

[ANNOYANCE] [CONFLICT]

… Oh god. "You can fucking Master me?!"

[SMUGNESS] [CONFIRMATION]

[CONFLICT] [CONFLICT] [CONFLICT] [CONF-]

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I roared, placing both hands over my ears as I slumped to the floor.

Fuck, how the hell am I supposed to stop the end of the world, when I can't even trust my own thoughts and instincts? Not only do I have the memories of several aliens in my head, but Queenie can apparently fuck with whatever she wants too.

Shit, I should've realized this already. I just watched Armsmaster's memories get fucked with, and he's got the same damn thing in his head that I do. Hell, even the fact that I have all these new memories but I still see myself as human should've clued me in!

Calm down, Kyle, calm down. Existential crisis later, doomsday preparations now. They've moved most of the stuff in the Scrapyard, but my nanobots are still in range of my transmitter. So, if I just do this, and tweak that a bit, maybe change that… done.

Ten of my twenty nanobots began to gather materials to create more of themselves, while the other ten drilled through walls and made their way out into the city outside. They would follow their pre-programmed instructions until they either returned to my range or were destroyed, so I wasn't too worried about them doing anything dangerous.

Right now, however, they were headed out to look for the work of any Tinkers. If they found it, they would mark down the coordinates and head straight back to the PRT building, where they would wait for further instructions. It wasn't a perfect system, but they were relatively cheap and expendable, and were barely the size of a common housefly, so they would be difficult to detect with the naked eye.

While my nanobots set off to do their thing, I propped the scientist up against the wall and made my way into the Scrapyard. Ignoring my nanobots gathering material, I started to pull apart anything I could get my hands on, working on the blueprint that Queenie had provided. Most would have fallen into the trap of trying to outgun Scion, trying to find a weapon that could harm him. While possible, the amount of resources and energy it would take would be far more than any one country could provide, and there was no way the entire world would be able to agree on something without trying to sabotage it or use it for themselves afterwards.

So, instead of offense, I started working on defense.

A large dome shield, projected from a relatively small generator and able to protect from most heavy artillery and some mid-level powers. Made of thousands of tiny overlapping hexagonal plates, the shield would be able to disperse impacts across multiple plates in order to diminish the amount of power the attack had. It wasn't perfect, and was made more for heavy vehicles than infantry use, but luckily my power offered a way around that.

See, my power was a strange one for Tinkers. Most of them started out with barely functional prototypes, and slowly made their way up to what everyone thinks of as Tinkertech nowadays. Mine didn't work that way; instead, Queenie just gave me blueprints for what I wanted. I couldn't change them without sacrificing important parts, but all of them were… not quite modular, but easily modified and specialized. For instance, all of my weapons came with tactical rails, which could hold attachments ranging from simple laser sights and telescopic scopes all the way to underbarrel plasma grenade launchers and vibrating chainsaw blades. All of my vehicles had attachment points that could fit any weapon of a certain size, with different attachment points for different sized weapons, and the internals could be changed as needed. Want more power instead of storage? Remove a cargo compartment and slot in an auxiliary generator. More defense instead of offense? Take off a few weapons and slot in shield projectors in their place.

In fact, those shield projectors were what I was modifying right now. They were meant to be mounted on a vehicle and draw from that vehicle's generators, but luckily for me they each had their own battery and could be charged with any power source that generated electricity. It wouldn't be able to take as much punishment as a vehicle-mounted one, but along with the high-powered solar panel it should be able to protect a group of people long enough for them to regroup and recover.

Any military officer would sell their own mother to get access to this, but that wasn't the reason I was making it. It would be useful against Scion, though not to a large extent, but the main benefit was that it could be mass produced by my nanobots, and easily used by anyone with even a passing familiarity with it.

Someone like a BBPD police officer, or a PRT trooper, perhaps.

And so, with a dark chuckle at the thought of the looks on the faces of villains once they saw this tech, I got to work.

{EARTH BET}

{APRIL 15, 2011}

{PRT ENE HEADQUARTERS, BROCKTON BAY}

I raised my head off the table in front of me, blearily rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I didn't remember falling asleep, but seeing as how it's the middle of the next day I probably passed out sometime in the early morning.

Thankfully, it seems I was able to finish the shield projector before I fell asleep, so it shouldn't be much trouble to tweak it a bit and send it for approval. Of course, I'd be keeping a copy for myself no matter what the PRT said about it, but it would be nice to get the go-ahead before I started cranking these out for the good guys. Hell, maybe I'd even make an IFF system so it would only work for approved personnel.

I caught sight of my nanobots out of the corner of my eye, and to my surprise the ten I had sent outside last night were back. Curious, I checked the coordinate data they had brought back with them. A warehouse near the docks, another warehouse in E88 territory, yet another warehouse in what could charitably be called Merchant 'territory', a few random homes and two hospitals.

Wait, what were those last two-

A series of explosions dragging me kicking and screaming from my thoughts, and I had just enough time to look up and catch sight of a strange cylinder before my vision went white. Ears ringing and effectively blind, I stumbled back as fast as I could, grabbing what I thought was my shield generator with one hand and a heavy tool with my other.

My back hit the wall, and alien memories kicked in, analyzing the situation. I could use my echolocation to- no, no, human! Alright, alright, so there's only one entrance into this room, and I'm completely blind and disoriented. I haven't been killed yet, so either my assailant is playing with me or he doesn't want me dead. Best I can tell, that was a standard-issue military flashbang, nothing too advanced or Tinkertech, so it could be literally anyone attacking me at this point.

Fuck.

[ANGER] [POSSESSION] [INFORMATION]

{DUPLICATIVE TELEPORTATION}

… Who?

A/N:

Hi, I'm back! Sorry, these last couple of weeks have been… trying for me. On the bright side, welcome to the fun part of the plot! I'm sure you've figured out that this is Lung's breakout by Oni Lee, and the start of Bakuda's bombing spree. All that Tinkertech the bots found? It's Bakuda's planted explosives.

Next chapter will deal with the panicked combat of Oni Lee's attack, and after that we'll check up on Taylor for a bit. 20k words and we haven't even heard from the Queen of Escalation herself, eh? Also, those alien memories of Kyle's will be a bigthing, it's not just a one-off mention. They also screw with his own thoughts, leaking in and turning the intended human action into something that the human body can't actually do.

Just imagine the migraines Tattletale will get trying to figure him out though!

Anyway, not a lot else to say right now, other than please review. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, especially since this story is mostly a stream-of-thought thing. I have a few plotpoints I'm going to hit, but a lot of it is made up as I go along just to keep myself writing and putting stuff out there. So, any help is appreciated, even if I don't have a lot of time to proofread or edit chapters right now.

With all that said, this is AWDTB, signing off.