“As you leave, you’ll receive emails on the locations of your individual headquarters.  For the time being, all I require from you, for now, is that you establish order and assume some measure of control over your territories.”

There were nods all around.

I wonder what Bitch’s territory is going to be like with her “in charge”.

“Good morning and welcome to Brockton Bay News. My name is Ronaowow Itsakidneystone Johnson. Our top story today: A large amount of wooden signposts have appeared overnight in parts of the lower Docks area. These signposts, seemingly hand-made, prominently feature minimalistic drawings of what appear to be dogs, along with poorly spelled text ordering onlookers to treat dogs well. BBN correspondent Waffle Erduno is on the scene. Waffle, what is your take on this story?”

Elephant in the room: This means the Undersiders are going to be going each their own way, to some extent, and operate more independently of each other. They’ll still be a team, but it seems like it won’t be in quite the same way as before. Though I suppose Coil might still call them together for a mission.

Is everyone okay with that?

“Cool.”

“Skitter, I have set up quarters near the south end of the Boardwalk.

That would be around where she’s been working recently anyway, wouldn’t it?

Reconstruction and repair work is still ongoing there, but if you will be patient, it may well be one of the more lucrative locations when things are up and running again.”

Sounds about right!

I nodded.  That wouldn’t be far from my old home, close to our old hideout.  Did that mean something?  Did he know who I was, or had Tattletale suggested it?  I felt uneasy about that.

To be fair, you have been active in that area, enough that it wound up in the PRT files, unless I’m misremembering.

“Regent, Grue, Imp and Skitter, I realize I have not detailed any employees to you to begin with.  I leave it to you to start this task for yourself, to decide what you need and how you intend to operate.

That sounds reasonable. Rachel has specific needs for her dogs, and Tattle has a specific role with specific things that can help her fulfill that role, but the rest of them are just kinda combat-focused, so it makes sense to let them define their MOs a bit more first.

Once you have decided this for yourselves, let me know, and I will endeavor to help you fill in the blanks in your individual operations.

Yeah.

Grue looked over the five people who would be Bitch’s henchmen, nodded.

“Tattletale, I’ve set up quarters near Lord Street, in one of the ABB’s old locations.

Just get the stench of drugs out of there and that sounds alright.

I assume your teammates will want to be in contact, and this area is both accessible, and it can reach any other area readily.

So Tattle’s place would be their common meeting place. I like it.

The area is already furnished with computers, and you’ll find staff there, people who are capable at gathering information, be it from media, computers or the streets.  You’ll also find a small force of mercenaries that I’ve assigned to you, so you can act on that information where you see fit.”

We’ve seen that Tattle’s power acts as a supercharged Sherlock Holmes lookover, so she needs some sort of information to get her started. These people could provide her with that, and then Tattle’s power can fill in more from that.

“Regent?  Your territory is near Grue’s, close to the water.”

Regent nodded.

Nice.

“Bitch is absent?”

“Interpersonal stuff,” Grue replied.  “She’ll be back.”

Ah, yeah… gonna need a little time to herself to recover, but she will.

“A shame.  Your other headquarters, where I moved your collective belongings, that will be her station.  Barker and Biter here showed up for the Endbringer fight, and I got in contact with them.  They, alongside these three young individuals,” he gestured to the two parahumans, and three college-aged kids who looked rather intimidated, “Will work under her.  Barker and Biter profess to be fearless, and should have little difficulty managing the dogs, even when Bitch’s abilities are at work.

Huh, neat. Bitch herself has more bite than bark, but it could be nice to have a bit of both under her.

Meanwhile, the three college kids are just desperate for a paying job, aren’t they? Hoo boy, they didn’t know who they’d be working under, probably.

The men and the young lady I’ve provided have some degree of training in veterinary medicine or handling dogs.  Let her know this.  She is free to accept them or refuse them as she sees fit.”

Oh, nice.

Coil turned to look at us.  “So you’re likely to encounter them.  When that happens, you run.  Cede any territory, abandon any job.  I would rather you were alive than successful in a job.”

“Got it,” Grue spoke.

“Failure is always an option.”
– Adam Savage

“In the meantime, we move on to the next phase of my plan,” Coil spoke.  “You may be wondering about this location, how it is similar to the new headquarters I provided you.  I have outfitted these areas to be your stations, points from which you will operate, work to seize and keep territory.  I have several more.

Oh, nice. I think he mentioned something like this back in 6.8, didn’t he? Though back then we of course didn’t know the Loft would be compromised.

If you’re amenable, I would have each of you take one of these stations for yourself.  Grue, this would be your station, shared with Imp, which I assume is alright?”

Ahh, I see. Right, this I’m pretty sure he did mention back then, though it slipped my mind for a while – each of the Undersiders getting control over their own areas, that kind of thing.

Grue looked around, “Big place and a lot of beds for two people.”

“More on that later.  Rest assured, I can provide staff, help.  I expect you’ll wish to find and recruit people of your own.

In the meantime, I suppose it’s helpful should the others want to stay over.

Contact me about funds – I will ensure that anyone you hire is paid well.”

Grue nodded.

Not necessarily just in money, knowing Coil.

“Please, pet, this is important.  To one decimal point.”

“Twenty two point six percent.  Thirty point nine percent chance some of them die.”

Terrible odds, those.

Undersiders?

“And the Undersiders?”

“Eleven point nine percent chance they succeed.  Fifty five point four percent chance they die if they fight those people.”

Sounds about right. I told you the Travelers had better chances. When you’re up against these kinds of people, you need the heavy hitters.

Also, Dinah didn’t say “some of them” for the Undersiders. It sounds like she means a 55.4% chance that all of them die.

Coil sighed, then straightened.  He looked at the middle-aged man, handed him the computer, “I strongly recommend you get what information you can on the group.  Any detail in the PRT records could be invaluable.  Lose sleep if you have to.”

Yeah, holy hell, this just became so much more important.

Tattletale spoke up, “He’s the catalyst for something else, then.”

Catalyst, yeah, that’s a better word.

“Is it always successful, pet?  This something that kills everyone on Earth?”

She shook her head, “Not always, not all the way.  Sometimes more people live.  Sometimes hundreds, sometimes thousands, sometimes billions.  But millions or billions always die when it happens.”

Even on a good day.

So this means it is possible to stop it from bringing total destruction. That seems like a good end goal for the story.

Endbringers move over, the threat scale of Worm has just increased drastically once again.

“If I were to send the Travellers?  How likely would they be to kill him?”

“My head hurts.”

No wonder.

“You said if he’s alive.  What if we killed him?  Now?  To one decimal point.  If I use my power.”

“Thirty one point two percent chance someone kills him before he leaves the city, if you use your power.

Huh. If that number would change without Coil’s power, it means it’s gotta be someone Coil sent, such as the Undersiders or the Travelers. (The Travelers seem better suited for this job.)

It doesn’t happen until fifteen years from now, if you do.”

…I see. So whatever Jack has to do with this, it’s only a hastening factor, and the end of the human species on Earth will just be delayed by his death.

“So it still happens?” Coil asked.

“Yes.  Always happens.”

Well, shit.

Hm. I have a feeling Jack’s not going to get killed after all. This seems like a story-climactic thing being planned out – although yes, I’m still aware that this story is written by the seat of Wildbow’s pants – and I doubt we’ll be going until fifteen years from now (in-universe).