(SHATTERPOINT) THE NINE COMES CALLING

They heard about it in pieces before it became interesting enough for Jack to care.

Bonesaw had a radio on in the background of the room while she worked, something local, with callers from different cities stepping over each other to talk about a hero down, a villain dead, and something about a man who wasn’t a cape doing things capes weren’t supposed to let happen. She turned the volume up with an elbow, listening while her hands kept moving inside someone who wasn’t going to survive the night anyway.

“Hey,” she said, bright, like she’d just remembered something fun. “This sounds like your kind of thing.”

Jack didn’t answer right away. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a knife balanced across his fingers, rolling it back and forth slowly. He listened, head inclined to the side slightly, smile wide and thoughtful.

Later, Cherish brought it up without looking at him, which meant it mattered.

“There’s something going on,” she said, leaning against the wall with her eyes half-lidded, attention turned inward rather than outward. “I don’t have…” She trailed off before shaking her head. “People’s reactions to it are interesting.”

Jack glanced at her.

“How so?”

She made a vague gesture, frustrated in a way she rarely bothered to hide. “Too much anger for what should just be fear. And it’s not panic, but… resentment. Like something’s been proven to them.”

“Proven?” he echoed, amused.

“That they don’t have to be as afraid,” she said. “Or that they were wrong to be, I don’t know. It’s messy.”

Jack smiled at that, filing it away.

Messy was good.

By the time Mannequin returned from a scouting run with a handful of rumors that all said the same thing in slightly different words, the gaps had been filled in.

An unpowered man’s actions have led to civilians talking and acting differently.

That was enough.

Jack pushed himself to his feet, the knife disappearing into his sleeve as easily as the thought had settled into place, and stretched like he’d just woken up from a nap. 

“We’re going on a trip,” he said.

Bonesaw perked up immediately. “Road trip?”

“Something like that.”

“Where?”

He rolled the name around once in his head before saying it out loud.

“Brockton Bay.”

It wasn’t even a particularly interesting city, not compared to some of the places they had driven through before, but that wasn’t the point. Cities didn’t matter. People did. Moments did.

And this felt like a moment.

“Are we killing multiple people?” she asked, hopeful. “Or just this one?”

“Eventually,” Jack said, easy and reassuring. “Let’s not rush into things.”

Cherish watched him for a moment, then sighed softly. “This is about that, isn’t it.”

“It’s about a change,” Jack said, tone light, almost conversational. “Something small, maybe. The kind people overlook because it doesn’t seem important yet.”

He started toward the van, certain they would follow.

“Our target is Anakin Skywalker,” he went on, tasting the name. “And he’s done something very rude.”

“Rude?” Bonesaw echoed.

“He’s changed the rules without asking,” Jack said, glancing back over his shoulder with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “People are supposed to be predictable. It makes things easier.”

Cherish made a face. “You mean boring.”

“Predictable,” Jack corrected, though there was no real disagreement there. “It makes the game easier to play.”

“And this guy?” she asked.

“This guy,” Jack said softly, “has people thinking they don’t have to play by those rules anymore.”

He stepped out into the open air, the rest of the Nine spilling out behind him in their usual, terrifying way, and paused. Then, he took a slow breath like he could already smell the city waiting for them.

“Never been one for gambling,” he said, almost to himself, “but I can bet anything that there's more to this than meets the eye.”

He smiled then, wide and bright and entirely pleased.

Bonesaw clapped her hands together. “So what are we doing with him?”

Jack looked ahead, eyes distant for a moment as if he could already see the future play out.

“We’re going to meet him,” he said. “Have a conversation, and see what sort of person he is.”

“And if you don’t like what you see?” Cherish asked.

Jack’s smile didn’t change, but something in it sharpened.

“Then we help him along,” he said. “Nudge things in the right direction.”

He continued walking, and this time there was a clear destination in mind, even if only he could see it.

“After all,” he added lightly, “it would be a shame not to take advantage of such an opportunity.”