Joan Lyonson had seen a lot during her long career in the criminal world. She had encountered the supernatural long before it became commonplace, and after the Decimation and the fall of New York, she had seen so much that she seemed to have lost her ability to be surprised. And yet, some details of the video report she was watching now didn't fit into her head. But she was much more frightened by the prospect of explaining these details to her boss. Vella Fisk was an angry person in general, and when her plans were thwarted, she took it out on those around her. But most of all, she hated waiting, so Joan couldn't put off the unpleasant moment.
The underground part of the Queenpin office included several laboratories working on the most promising areas of research, a transport hub connecting the main building to the rest, and the boss's bunker, also known as the throne room. Despite the bunker's protective purpose, it was very impressively decorated. Ten-metre-high double steel doors, large enough to accommodate the largest walker designed by Stark Industries, were guarded by two smaller vehicles. Their machine guns and autocannons were capable of reducing any enemy to dust in a fraction of a second, which always impressed Joan, but today she looked at them with disapproval: what would these guns do if they encountered an enemy who was dust from the start?
Despite Fisk's unbridled passion for pomp and pretension, there was a small gate in the giant doors through which people with reports entered the bunker. Joan couldn't remember the doors ever being opened for anything other than scheduled maintenance.
"Legate of the First Legion, Joan Lyonson," announced the mechanical herald as soon as the head of the vigilantes entered the throne room.
The throne room, yes... Vella Fisk preferred the aesthetics of the Roman Empire, but technically she did not notice the stoicism and prohibition of luxury popular among the ancient Romans, so she sat on a golden throne. And her own body had long since lost its original appearance; now she represented the maximum that modern science could offer a person with unlimited funds. Combat implants, genetic enhancements, cosmetic modifications. She displayed it all for all to see. Her toga barely covered her nipples, and the skirt-like hem revealed everything. Vella Fisk greeted all visitors with her legs spread wide, enjoying their embarrassment. Few were allowed to get close enough to see the details of her exposed crotch, and Joan was one of them. She had seen her boss naked on more than one occasion, in the closest possible contact.
To put it bluntly, the woman sitting on the golden throne had a penis.
"Go ahead," the boss said ambiguously.
Joan placed her hand on the monitor in front of the throne, and a video recording appeared showing an attack on a convoy carrying raw materials for automatic factories that produced weapons. The truck, with thick armour plating covering the engine and converging into a steam engine-like bulge under the chassis, as well as several machine guns on the trailer, was calmly driving down the road. Suddenly, several figures rose from the ground and ran towards the truck. The truck accelerated but did not engage in combat, and machine guns from off-road vehicles travelling behind began firing at the figures. Joan paused the video.
"And no, the scouts didn't miss them. These aren't zombies, they're something like golems made of mud.
"Something new. Did they bring the golem remains for study?" Fisk asked.
"That's the thing, there's nothing left of the attackers on the battlefield.
"You're just doing a bad job," her boss grumbled.
"What?" Joan whispered, offended.
"Nothing. You're so cute when you're angry.
"Too bad I can't say the same about you," the legate teased his mistress.
"That's right, you mustn't get angry. So come on, show me more.
The camera angle changed, and now the recording was coming from a drone launched by the reconnaissance vehicle leading the convoy. The truck accelerated to a hundred kilometres an hour when a motorcyclist jumped out from behind a rock on the side of the road. The turret on the trailer immediately aimed at him, but the motorcycle was approaching too fast. He was going to ram it.
"Fucking superheroes. Never mind, physics will teach him that strength comes from mass multiplied by speed." Fisk commented. Joan boiled over and was about to tell Welle everything she thought about her personally, about their relationship, and about the corporation in general, but she held back. Instead, she waited for the right moment and explained what was happening in the video.
"He jumped on the trampoline at the last moment. And yes, a second ago there was no trampoline. But then...
A second of playback and another freeze frame. Joan was silent.
"What's that?" Fisk expressed her emotions about what she had seen.
"My analysts suggest that it was specially structured sand.
"And where did the motorcycle go?
"The same place as the cargo.
"So this flat-bottomed boat on a motorcycle rammed a fifty-tonne vehicle, bounced off it, dismounted in mid-air, and disarmed our truck with two handfuls of sand?
"No.
"Of course it did, I saw it myself! I even got a little excited by how cool it was.
"It's a man.
"WHAT?
"A man was riding the motorcycle.
"Impossible. I don't believe you.
"I don't believe myself. But because of another incident.
"Really? Okay, go on.
The trailer door opened slightly, and two women in the latest model of armour, similar to the early Iron Lady suits, only more massive and without the fancy paintwork, flew out into the gap. They didn't dare shoot at the enemy sitting above the driver's cab, as it was armoured, but their thermal guns would fry anyone inside alive, even if the shots hit their target. Landing five metres away from the man, the warriors ran forward, but Scorpia blocked their path.
"She won't give up! Why is she always around when something bad happens? Where did she come from?
"She was hiding under the trailer, apparently. But not for long, she didn't show up there before the attack started.
"Let's keep going.
Scorpia didn't attack, she just wouldn't let the guards through, which was completely out of character for her. This lunatic thirsted for the blood of everyone fighting on Queenpin.ink's side and never missed an opportunity to take a bite out of someone, even in the most desperate situation.
"It's a shame they didn't let me finish her off.
"I'm sorry for you. But formally, the council has more power than I do. And the return of several million people is still a reason for extraordinary measures, so I partly agree with their decision. Although I would have withdrawn only those troops that were far from completing their tasks, not just everyone, as they did.
"Look, the man is saying something to Scorpia before...
The tractor jerked forward and the trailer began to slow down. Unprepared for this, the guards rushed at Scorpia, who met one of them with her tail and pierced its thick armour. The second managed to avoid being caught by the claws, pushed off the monster and flew away. Gaining height, the warrior prepared to fire, but the attackers had already hidden under the trailer, which had stopped in its tracks. The off-roaders caught up with the cargo they were supposed to be guarding all this time, and the Scorpion lunged at them to attack and kill everyone, but suddenly stopped and hid back.
"And now the same thing from the camera on the vigilante's armour.
She could clearly see the man screaming and waving his arms, and the enraged Scorpia obeying him.
"Oh, what is happening to this world... The goddess must be dead if the most beaten stalker in the wasteland is being commanded by a man!
Vella punched the armrest of the throne, and it dented. Meanwhile, on the screen, the trailer lifted up, left the road and began to sink into the ground. The battle was over.
"I don't even know what I want more, to find the cargo or kill this piece of shit... Wait, no, that's not right! I want both, and I even know who can help me! Hey, you self-propelled dildo, why isn't EDIT mine yet???
The screen flickered, and a young-looking blonde man appeared, thin with sharp features and the look of a small puppy.
"Because I didn't let you," he replied with a sly smile.
"You couldn't give it to Tony Stark in the bedroom, you defective vibrator! Pots, do you think the whole world revolves around your dick? Neither you nor Stark Industries are the centre of the universe! Let me explain it to you stupid little boys: the deal with you is starting to lose its profitability.
"Or maybe you're just PMSing.
"How dare you...
"And speaking of profitability, I am quite capable of imposing a continental blockade on your island. How many people do you have there, three million? What will you do when they start eating each other?
"Blow up your industrial robots.
"Vella, enough. We're business people, no matter what prejudices fill your head. I supply you with metal, you make suits and weapons, we split the profits, and that means the losses too. The only difference is the scale of our self-importance. Logically, my pride can't suffer as much as your excessive pride.
"And you know how to work with your tongue, maybe Tonya kept you around for a reason. Although I still don't understand how she put a man in charge of the corporation.
Pepper Pots leaned closer to the camera so that only his lips were visible and whispered:
"With a snap of her fingers.
"What a load of crap..." Fisk replied.
"Exactly, my dear. The universe itself is watching over the execution of Tony's will, so you'll have to get EDIT on your own.
Fisk folded her hands in front of her and fidgeted with her fingers in deep thought. She was clearly not winning the verbal battle with this upstart.
"What have you done to get the cargo back?
"I've entrusted the matter to the best executor.
"Be more specific! "Russian Blue, if that name means anything to you.
"Oh yes..." Fisk smiled and shot her interlocutor in the forehead.
***
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