“Move forward!” Armsmaster called out, “He’s going to want to escape to recover!  We can not let him!”

The longer he’s trapped under that building, the better.

Leviathan had more than halved our ranks with the wave.  I could see people face down in the water.  Others were crumped up, their bodies contorted, broken, still.

Damn. And the next wave is apparently going to be even stronger?

And the damage to the city was just as bad, in a different way.  I stared at the wreckage, the block and a half of shattered buildings, and saw a looming mess of arches and massive iron beams and girders, unable to comprehend what it was.

…I wonder how far in from the coast the Loft is/was. Or Danny’s house, for that matter.

It dawned on me.  The PHQ.  The headquarters of our local superteam, tourist attraction, torn from whatever fixtures had rooted it in place, smashed to ruins against our coastline.

…oh.

Welp. I guess that forcefield around it didn’t work out in the end.

Like with the Boardwalk, I feel like this warrants a #dang it timmy. Rest in peace, Protectorate Headquarters.

I gave the fat man one backwards glance, and bolted for Shielder. I mouthed an apology I didn’t have the breath to utter, more for my conscience than for the man I hadn’t saved.

😦

Shielder waited until the last second to erect his cerulean bubble around himself.  I caught a glimpse of one cape, a step too slow, getting trapped on the outside, a half second before the wave hit.  Crushed against the exterior of the solid-light forcefield by the onrushing waters.

Ouch.

I’d been in an earthquake before.  A three on the Richter scale, brief.  I’d been at home, and a check of the house afterward only found a few books knocked off the shelf, a mirror fallen from the wall in the front hall.  This was a hundred times more intense, the water rolling over us, against the nearby buildings, making the ground shudder.

A hundred times more intense makes it a five, theoretically.

For one brief moment, we were submerged, currents running past Shielder’s bubble.  water in front of us, to either side, behind and above.  Outside the translucent bubble, I saw a massive dark shape zip past us, saw Shielder fall to his knees, as though the force of the water against the bubble in Leviathan’s wake was nearly more than he could bear.

Oof, yeah, with the kind of momentum this water has…

Hang in there, buddy.

Heavy casualties, please wait, a chorus of identical voices announced, coming from the armbands of those ten or twelve of us in the bubble.

Damn, Leviathan basically just DDoSed the armbands with deaths.

Telling us that we’d just taken losses so heavy that the Dragon’s computer system couldn’t or wouldn’t list them all.

You just had to think “We’re winning”, Taylor…

I found the person my armband was directing me to, some teenage boy with a metallic bird design to his costume, the helmet that covered the upper half of his face looked like a bird’s head, maybe an eagle.  I knelt by him.

Hm. Probably has the power of flight, at the very least.

There was a crash as Leviathan whipped his tail toward Legend, a blade of water soaring through the air to strike the hero out of the air.  The onslaught of lasers interrupted, Leviathan shifted from a crouch on one side of the road to being the midst of the defending heroes in one fluid motion, resuming the carnage in the span of a heartbeat.

Shit.

Fierceling deceased, CD-5.  Adamant down, CD-5

I’m pretty sure this is the first time these bits haven’t ended with an ellipsis.

He was way too close to me for comfort – a single leap on his part would close the distance to me – but freaking out over it wouldn’t help anyone.  I could only hope that the front line would hold for long enough for me to help this person.

Good luck.

Sham down, CD-5.  Acoustic deceased, CD-5.  Harsh Mistress down, CD-5.  Resolute deceased, CD-5.  Woebegone down, CD-5…

I had to help, somehow.

No Tattletale yet, but I’m not quite convinced she won’t be coming up soon. Looks like we’re focusing on Taylor figuring out what she’s supposed to do first, though.

I pressed both buttons on the armband and spoke into it, “Direct me to the wounded I can help.  I do not have mobility powers.  I am not very strong.  I do have basic first aid training.”

Ooh, good idea. Taking the same approach the Undersiders were going to, eh?

There was a pause, then a female voice, synthesized, just sharp enough to be heard over the noise of lasers, guns and rain, “Acknowledged.”

The response both relieved and terrified me.  I’d halfway expected that to fail.

Nice. So will the map on the armband direct her now?

My armband beeped and flashed, and I saw a red dot on the map, along with an arrow at the edge of the square screen.

Yup.

As I moved my arm, the arrow adjusted to keep pointing the same way.  It was directing me to near where Leviathan was.

Well, that’s scary.

Man, what if it’s directing her to Tattle?