Chapter Text
There was a final testament. Separate from myth and stories, separate from hopes and dreams. It was a testament of the end, an apocalypse already in motion.
The Mathers’, the McVeays’, the Crowleys’. At that meeting, that summit, there was the usual disagreement. But even then, they understood. Something needed to be done. There was no more room for hesitancy.
A plan, set in motion. Only a few from each branch were chosen to enact it. Failure couldn’t be tolerated. Failure meant nobody was coming to save them.
And yet, despite everything, they did not fail.
There was a final testament, and the world had to see it.
——————————————
Instead of rain and water, he woke up to warm summer air.
Air, grass, and singing birds. He had to admit, it had been a while since he had been out in the woods. He had traveled a bit before working with Coil, sure, but…
Rain and water.
Brian Laborn heaved, ripping off his helmet as He vomited. There was water, of course, but he fought back the panic when he saw blood. He coughed and sputtered, squinting against the sunlight.
He blinked once. Then twice. Belatedly, he thought to look around.
It was hard to tell what time it was; The trees seemed to bend inward with interlocking branches, hiding him and the clearing he was in away from the sun. Was it the afternoon? Closer to dusk, probably, with the sound of Katydids and Crickets.
Other than that, there wasn’t much else to see. He forced calm into his veins as his gaze swept over the clearing. Dead leaves, rotten wood, sticks, insects…
Vista. Vista without a mask, with a broken leg, glaring daggers at him.
He froze. He glanced at his helmet, discarded next to him, and sighed. What could he say? Why was she even here?
Why was he even here?
Why couldn’t he-
To his left, he saw movement.
He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the flaring pain in his right leg as Shadow Stalker advanced on him, a knife raised. He barely dodged a wild swipe, using her stumble to get into her space and grab her arm. With his other hand, he grasped at her neck and brought her to the ground in a tackle.
Dizziness struck him. She fell, and he fell with her. They toppled upon each other in a heap of loose limbs. With all of his strength, Grue pushed himself off of her, feeling a wave of nausea come to him again.
“Stop,” he wheezed, the sky spinning. “Stop, just-”
“Shadow Stalker!” Vista yelled. “Wait!”
Against all of his expectations, she waited.
He hadn’t registered it before, but she was maskless too. There was a wild anger in her eyes, which did nothing to surprise him, but the fear…
He’d never admit to it, but the fear only elevated his own.
“What the fuck,” she hissed. “Did you do?”
Brian glanced at Vista. She looked back at him expectantly, as if he knew how to answer. Vaguely, he took note of both his and their costumes; waterlogged, still dripping. From what?
He crossed his arms, shivering despite the warmth outside, and shook his head. “This wasn’t me.”
“Bullshit,” Shadow Stalker interrupted through bloody teeth. “No. Bullshit. I saw the…the shadows. Like…”
She faltered, rubbing at her eyes. “Like a goddamn door. Pulling me in, deep. How did you manage that? New powers?”
“I’d tell you, if it had anything to do with me. I woke up here, just like you and Vista did. I have no clue where we are. Again, this wasn’t me.”
“You’re a bad fucking liar, Grue.”
“And you’re an idiot, because I’m telling you that I’m just as lost as you are. Why would I bring us out here without my team? Put myself at a disadvantage? You and her against me?”
“This was your plan,” she continued, ignoring him. He threw up his arms as she raised her knife. “Isolate us, pick us off.”
Vista interrupted, groaning. “Even if it was his plan-“
“Wasn’t my plan,” Brian stressed.
“Even if it was, shouldn’t we be focusing on where we are? Or…”
It had gone unspoken, the quiet fear in their hearts. At her trepidation, Brian cut through the uncertainty.
“Or why we can’t remember how we got here.”
There was silence, all encompassing, blackened as it spread through the clearing.
Then Shadow Stalker shook her head, knife still raised, looking at the trees. “What the fuck do we do?”
“Truce,” Brian said almost instantly, drawing their eyes to him. He held up his hands, nodding towards the woods. “We don’t like each other, let’s get that out of the way. No reason to pretend otherwise, but until we find out what happened, fighting is only gonna get us killed.”
Vista frowned, shaking her head. “Killed? Are you-“
“I’m not suggesting I’m going to try and kill you,” Brian said, exasperated. “Can you just listen? If we fight out here, we can’t just go back home and lick our wounds. Unless you two think you can take me out and walk all the way back to Brockton Bay.”
“Maybe we could,” Shadow Stalker said viciously. “I bet you’re afraid of that, huh?”
He could feel a yell bubble up in his throat. Fury, desperation, and exhaustion coursed through him like fire. He was losing control.
“No need to be afraid at all, children.”
A voice interrupted him, before he could say anything.
Brian’s eyes snapped towards the emerging figure, stepping back as a woman emerged. She was dressed in simple sea green flannel, with a pair of jeans and boots caked in mud. Much shorter than him, but lean with hidden muscle all the same. He kept an eye on the rifle slung in her back.
If it hadn’t been for the coral on her head, sitting atop a face twisted into a fleshy spiral, he would have taken her for a hunter or ranger.
Belatedly, he recognized the unconscious body slung over her left shoulder. Laserdream, groaning and bound with rope.
“Just call me Salt,” the Cape called mildly, voice monotone.
“Fuck,” Shadow Stalker hissed.
The cape walked toward them, a hand scratching at her cheek. Brian summoned his darkness, raising his fists…
Except, he couldn’t. No matter what he tried, it refused to come.
“My powers,” Vista whispered to him. Urgent, as if he had a solution. “They’re not working.”
“None of that now,” Salt murmured. “Nothing else matters anymore.”
She paused, humming a soft tune.
“The gospel has found you.”
——————————————
Sixteen children.
An unprecedented number. The Fallen could no longer pretend to be backwoods upstarts. This would get attention, so they’d have to work fast.
Of course, most of the children would not join their ranks. Some would die trying to escape. Others would die trying to adjust. Some would even succeed with escaping, a possibility that always had to be prepared for.
But the ones that stayed? That joined the family?
They would make it all worth it.
——————————————
“You’re afraid.”
Carlos glanced at the new cape, a hulking man in black robes. He wore a mask of melted, cloudy glass, shaped like a face with no features save for a singular red piercing eye. To his right, Eric - Shielder - and Dean were being led by a group of people donning simpler masks, balaclavas and the like.
To his left, a beaten and bloody Hellhound was being dragged through the mud by her shoulders. She had screamed for her dogs upon waking up and had fought against their captors when they told her they were dead.
The anguish on her face and in her voice sent pity through his heart. He was aware enough, distantly, that she wouldn’t appreciate his condolences.
It wasn’t like he’d have the chance to talk to her, anyway.
“Should I not be?” He tried, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. He couldn’t feel his powers; the ever-present quiet burn beneath his skin. He only felt cold now.
“It’s understandable,” the cape responded. He had referred to himself as ‘Abaddon,’ at some point. “There’s no shame in it. We were built to be afraid of the world, of the dangers in the dark. We’ve forgotten. That’s not your fault, but the blame goes somewhere.”
“Where are you taking us?”
“Home,” Abaddon said simply. “We’re going home.”
“I’m assuming you don’t mean back to Brockton Bay,” Eric called from his right. “Do you think we’re stupid?”
“I never said Brockton Bay.”
“What did we even do? What the fuck do you want? My sister was with me; I saw her fall into the…into the…”
Eric paused, glanced at Rachel, then looked down. “Why can’t we remember anything? Where’s my sister?”
Abaddon didn’t answer. Carlos could only watch as he trudged through the branches and grass, silent as a corpse.
Eric spoke again, his voice rising in panic. “Hey. Hey. You can’t just-“
“Nothing you and I say to each other will change what’s about to happen,” Abaddon interrupted, suddenly angry. “The same story, every time. You beg, you plead, but eventually…”
He cleared his throat, shrugging. The most human gesture Carlos had seen from him.
“Eventually, reality sets in.”
“What do you mean, ‘what’s about to happen’?” Dean spoke up. Carlos tried to catch his eye, frowning when he saw that Dean only stared at the ground. He had been quiet, ever since they woke up.
“What’s happened time and time again,” Abaddon answered. “An awakening.”
In the distance, Carlos could see a clearing.
Even as they approached it, his mind raced. Was there a way to escape? Maybe for him, if he twisted against the person holding him in the right way, but then what? Run? Leave the rest behind? Hellhound, Dean, and Eric. They’d have to take the fall, even if he did manage to escape.
Then he’d be alone in the woods. No water or food, no help, no plan.
‘An awakening,’ Abaddon had said.
The evening sun warmed his skin as they stepped out of the trees, and Carlos winced as his eyes adjusted to the light. There, upon rolling hills, dozens and dozens of cabins and other buildings sat. Picturesque, as if they were happening upon a quiet and peaceful village.
But even as far as he was, he could see it. Paintings on the walls. Depictions of rolling waves and jagged earth.
A mural of feathers, white as snow, trailing across the sky.
It must have been a dream. It should have been a dream. Yet there it was.
The Fallen had found them.
——————————————
Some of them showed exceptional promise.
There were monsters among the new children, those ready and willing to spill blood if it meant survival. In time, that fury would be tempered, turned away from the Fallen and towards the non-believers. The children would learn the chants as time went on, and some would even come to believe it.
Earth, Sea, and Sky. Symbols of the world, and of the end to come.
Many of the Fallen were nervous. Valefor, incensed at the idea of someone new that could vie for his position. Moloch, unwilling to calm down in the face of vengeful wrath from the Protectorate. Little Light, still adjusting to her home away from the cities of Haven, thinking things were already falling apart.
The last testament would not wait for them. The gospel would break through the dark.
They could not stop now.
——————————————
Victoria’s mind raced.
As night drew near, the apparent quiet of the village did nothing to calm her nerves. She, alongside Tattletale, Browbeat, and Clockblocker, had woken up together in the same field. It had only taken seconds for them to realize their powers weren’t working, and only seconds more to realize that their memories were broken. Waterlogged clothes, some injuries, and no plan besides walking and hoping.
That plan had been shot, when a woman in white found them. She had a mask covered in eyes, and so did the people following her.
Options came to her as they were forced to walk and dismissing them only made her angrier. Cranial? She couldn’t imagine Toybox kidnapping four teenagers. Even if they did it with subtlety, that was still attention she was sure black-market tinkers wouldn’t want. Social Cue? A small-time villain from New Mexico. His powers weren’t strong enough to even come close to something like this.
She wasn’t blind. Eventually, the murals gave her enough clues. Rolling waves, Rocky Mountains, clear blue skies. She had hoped it to be anyone else.
Hopes quickly dashed on stones, with the way things were looking.
She glanced over her companions, all maskless, all with varying flavors of gloomy expressions. Clockblocker looked almost bored even with his head wound, although she could see the wariness and fear in his eyes and posture. Browbeat, a boy with stark brown skin and a shaved head, glanced left and right frantically, silent save for once when he had woken up.
Then there was Tattletale…
“Four teenagers,” Tattletale mused, stumbling a bit as one of the masked men pulled her along. She held a slight smile, even with the wild panic in her eyes. “Kids. Really great stuff. I’m guessing this is how you all get your rocks off.”
The woman who had found them, Douma, didn’t answer. She only continued to walk, leading them through the streets.
Victoria was struggling to remember if she knew her powers. She had heard of Douma, once, in one of her classes. Something about…silence? Stillness?
Why did everything hurt?
“Gotta be something big,” Tattletale continued. Victoria tried her best to stomp out the petty hatred she felt for her in that moment. “Or else you wouldn’t go through all the trouble. Then again, you backwoods freaks maybe should have thought of that before you whisked us away. So? What’s the plan? Or was there even a plan to begin with?”
Douma stopped. Victoria blinked.
In front of them sat a large spire of wood, several blackened windows along its side hiding the interior from prying eyes. Douma wasted no time in forcing them to their knees in front of the building, next to a number of chains attached to concrete in the ground. In just a matter of moments, the four of them were left alone, gazing at the building in front of them.
Silence reigned for a minute. Then, inside, Victoria could hear a scream.
She made an instinctive attempt to stand, only to hiss as the chains dug into her wrist. Without her powers, there wasn’t even the slightest of hopes that she could break free.
She wanted to scream, too.
“...This sucks,” Clockblocker muttered unhelpfully. “Anyone got any ideas? Browbeat?”
Browbeat glanced at Clockblocker, then shook his head. “Lucas. They’ve already seen my face. Yours too.”
“Sure, but-”
“Unless you two are figuring out a way out of here, would you do me a solid and let me think? Thanks. Hugs and kisses,” Tattletale interrupted.
Browbeat frowned. “I-I don’t even know you. Shouldn’t we be working together?”
Tattletale laughed, hoarse and desperate. “‘Work together?’ What the fuck could you even offer me? Tell you what? I’ll let you know if I need someone to mumble them to death.”
Victoria couldn’t take it.
“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed, speaking past a cut lip. “Just shut the fuck up, Tattletale. You’re so goddamn-”
“Don’t get me started on you,” Tattletale talked over her, turning to face her and leaning forward. She was hyperventilating, Victoria noted distantly. “You, I can see them going for. You’re just blonde and pretend pretty enough that these hicks would make you their princess. You’d fit right in, after they got done passing you…ar…”
The only thing that saved Tattletale from a headbutt were her widened eyes and worry, clear on her face. Victoria turned to look at what she was looking at, and her own eyes widened in response.
In the distance, maybe three or four ‘blocks’ away, she could see four teens. Kid Win, Regent, Skitter.
Her sister.
“Hey!” She screamed, her voice echoing across the air. “Hey! Amy!”
Amy glanced her way, briefly, before being led behind a building. Fear in her eyes, even from so far away.
Dennis chuckled, with nothing close to humor in his tone. “Yeah. This sucks.”
——————————————
It could be considered a blessing.
Not that the true believers of the Fallen believed in many things like that. ‘Blessings’ were words used by the blind, believing that good deeds fell upon them like snow, or sunlight. Random and without thought.
There was only the march. There was only the calendar and the clock and the seconds ticking by. The world could not be blessed, for the unveiling showed all.
The world could not be blessed, for it was never a world. Only a stage. Only a transition, from the light to the dark. The beginning to the end.
Enoch McVeay mused as he scratched at his beard, glancing at the dead woman beneath his feet. The blood on his boots still dripped.
He moved on. She was unfit for the family. Good thing there were sixteen new souls to replace her.
——————————————
Taylor glanced at the stage as she checked her bindings.
No mask, since she woke up. She had seen Alec without his mask of course, several times now, but Kid Win? It was disquieting to have to conjoin the image of an acne-riddled kid with a ward, someone who had come close to capturing her.
Not to mention Panacea. She hadn’t stopped glaring at her since they had woken up, as if this was all her fault. They had all been led through the woods and town. They had all been brought into a dark room, bound to chairs, and sat in front of a stage. She was in just as much danger as Panacea was.
But, it didn’t matter. Of course it didn’t. The blackened eye and split lip didn’t unnerve her as much as the absence of feeling from the insects around her, or the broken memories.
Crouched next to the television on stage, ‘Valefor’ fiddled with the wires behind it, humming a tune to himself. He had wasted no time in ‘welcoming’ them, and had hit Kid Win for trying… something. There hadn’t been any opportunities to escape after that. Not with the way his power worked.
Eye contact, then commands. Taylor hadn’t missed it. His range, what was his range? Could it affect several people at the same time? Briefly, she glanced at the knife attached to his thigh. If she could get a hold of it somehow, she’d be able to…
What? Gouge his eyes out? Could she do that?
She-
“You got the wires crossed,” Alec said from behind her, sniffing from a bloody nose. “Seriously, man. If you need help-”
“Quiet,” Valefor said. At the same time, Panacea hissed, “Shut the fuck up.”
A beat passed, the Kid Win spoke up. “Not helpful,” he murmured, with a swollen tongue.
Alex glanced at Kid Win, giving him a sneer. “Oh yeah, sorry dork. Next time, I’ll be sure to take your busted ass face’s feelings into account.”
Taylor held back a sigh, staring at Valefor in case he tried something. He elected to ignore them instead, standing up as he finished with the television. “We’ve got to keep you separate from the others for now,” he said calmly, walking to the door. “It’s always best to ease you into it.”
The others? She had seen Glory Girl yelling from a distance, with…maybe Lisa? Clockblocker and Browbeat too, maybe.
“Into what?” Taylor found herself asking. If she could get him to stay, just a little longer, then maybe…
His pause was only that; a pause. He smiled at her, and she felt herself shiver. “You’ll see,” he replied in a murmur.
He clicked a small remote.
The television blared to life. It took Taylor a moment to understand what she was looking at. At first, it looked only like floating shapes in the water, black and gray and white.
Then, she looked at the others. Panacea was staring at the television, eyes and mouth wide. Kid Win was gasping for air, almost crying, shaking his head and repeating ‘no.’ Even Alec looked surprised, only for his expression to melt into something grim.
“That’s…” Kid Win started, tears running down his face.
Taylor looked back to the screen. It only clicked once she saw pieces of the boardwalk, floating on turbulent water.
The door opened.
All four of them turned to see an emaciated woman, thin with white hair and a pleasant smile. She wore a simple white dress, and a strange symbol on a necklace. Her voice was impossibly soft, too loud and too quiet, and she was everywhere.
“Welcome to the family,” she spoke, with all the warmth of the freezing sky.
——————————————
Some things change, and some things stay the same.
It had started as a spark. Despite the promises of the end, the Fallen had begrudgingly respected the Endbringer truce. There had always been bad blood about that. True belief, true worship, did not respect the laws of the material world. The danger didn’t matter, the attention didn’t matter. All that mattered was the gospel. All that mattered was how much you believed.
Earth, Sea, and Sky.
That chant had lit a fire in the leaders of the Fallen, one day. Fine. True faith had to be practiced. No more running. No more hiding. No more poking and prodding and teasing.
Sixteen children. Without those sixteen children, without their powers, Leviathan's path of destruction through the city would be all the larger. He would call the tide and bring low the arrogance of man.
The Fallen could only celebrate, once they realized just how far reaching his waves were.
On May fifteenth, 2011, Brockton Bay sank into the sea.