(ORIGIN BOXES) CHAPTER TWO

Despite his new limbs, patrolling on his motorcycle was as smooth as ever. They caused no hindrance, almost as though they weren’t there at all. One adjusted his rearview mirror while another scratched his exposed chin, and he had to admit that being able to relieve an itch without taking his hands off the handlebars was rather convenient.

Still, his thoughts kept returning to the limbs, particularly what he might learn by studying them. Dragon would be an ideal collaborator, given her Tinker specialty, and her expertise could also prove invaluable when investigating the Origin Boxes themselves. There were still plenty of unknowns to work through, but the possibilities were exciting enough that he found himself looking forward to the research. So for now, at least, he saw no reason to complain.

Except, of course, for the fact that sleeping on his back might prove difficult from now on.

Armsmaster stopped at a red light, his attention returning to the way his new limbs moved. They responded to his thoughts almost as soon as he formed them, and at times they seemed to react even faster than he could consciously direct them. He would need to examine that more closely with Dragon, perhaps even work out a blueprint that would help him understand their construction.

As he waited, however, his thoughts drifted towards Vista. He’d been fortunate with his new abilities, but the same couldn’t be said for the young Ward. She hadn’t done anything to deserve what had happened to her, and while he wasn’t particularly close to her, he couldn’t help feeling sorry for her situation. Her new powers were difficult enough to manage, but the exposure of her identity had made things considerably worse.

Despite the efforts of the PRT’s network support team, people were still spreading information about Missy Biron online. Her name, address, and details of her school life were being pieced together from various posts, some of them made by people who knew her, even if only indirectly. The PRT was pursuing those responsible, and the Protectorate had issued warnings, but Armsmaster wasn’t optimistic that arrests alone would stop the spread.

At least measures were being taken to protect her family and keep her out of the public eye. She’d also been barred from accessing online networks while the staff, including several PHO moderators, worked to contain the situation.

The light turned green, and Armsmaster resumed his patrol. He was still considering what he and Dragon might learn from his new limbs when a notification appeared inside his helmet, alerting him to a crime nearby. The other heroes on patrol were too far away to respond in time, so he immediately headed towards the location.

The call placed the incident three miles away, and he arrived in under five minutes. Unfortunately, the scene was less interesting than he’d secretly hoped. A group of men in cheap masks and plain clothes were loading electronic equipment and expensive appliances into a battered truck, and judging by how much cargo they’d already collected, he had arrived just as they were preparing to leave. 

There were no costumes or custom-made equipment to suggest anything more unusual than an ordinary robbery.

“…Surrender now, and things will be quick.”

Piggot had warned him against returning to patrol so soon after his transformation, but Armsmaster had considered the risk manageable. These were ordinary criminals, after all, and the chances of encountering anything capable of seriously damaging his new limbs were relatively low. It was a reasonable opportunity to see how they performed outside a controlled environment.

“Fuck off!”

Armsmaster sighed. So much for an easy arrest. Still, he had dealt with plenty of criminals like these before, and they rarely posed much of a challenge.

His combat prediction software was already running, analysing their stances and movements for signs that they were reaching for a weapon. Years of refinement had made it effective at identifying the telltale motions associated with drawing a gun, pulling a knife, or even preparing to throw an explosive. It could also compare visible weapons against a database he’d built over the years, although he doubted he’d need any of that today.

One of the men reached for a gun, while the other two tensed. Neither appeared to be armed, suggesting this had really been intended as a quick robbery rather than a confrontation.

“I warned you.”

The gunman fired.

At that range, even Armsmaster’s sensors and experience couldn’t make him fast enough to dodge a bullet, but his armour was more than capable of withstanding the shots. Even so, before he could decide how to respond, one of his new limbs had already moved between him and the gunman, deflecting the bullets with a series of sharp metallic impacts.

The man’s expression was almost comical.

“Wha—”

Armsmaster sent the other limbs forward.

What might ordinarily have taken him a couple of minutes was over in seconds. His appendages moved with startling speed, wrapping around the three men and lifting them off the ground before they could react. A fourth reached out and plucked the gun from the lead criminal’s hand, leaving them all restrained and helpless.

Smooth, fast, and without the slightest hesitation. He hadn’t needed to move his hands or even issue a conscious command for every movement. His limbs had simply responded to what he wanted them to do.

For a moment, Armsmaster felt a surge of pride. If he could incorporate them into his fighting style and develop suitable strategies, they might give him an advantage against threats that had previously given him trouble. With the right preparation, perhaps he could finally start turning some of his failures into victories.

Then he heard a click.

Turning towards the sound, he found a small crowd gathered nearby, several people recording him on their phones.

He might have expected some thanks or appreciation for stopping the robbery, but the first comment he heard was, “Those limbs were pretty cool.”

Then:

“Felt like he did nothing. The limbs did all the work.”

“Man, going after easy targets. You’d think he’d go after actual threats in the city.”

“I wonder if he made them?”

“Nah. Probably got them from those Origin Box thingies. Or maybe Dragon gave them to him.”

“They look really cool.”

Armsmaster said nothing as he retrieved his restraints. The comments weren’t particularly hostile, but neither did they show much appreciation for what he’d done. Worse, he couldn’t even bring himself to feel offended, because he’d heard similar remarks often enough to understand where they came from.

Everyone in the Protectorate stationed in Brockton Bay knew the accusation: that they did nothing to help the city.

He could present statistics, explain how many arrests they’d made, and point to the evidence showing their work had made a difference. Yet he also knew why people remained dissatisfied. For every ordinary criminal they put behind bars, there were capes who escaped and continued operating with little apparent consequence.

The problem was bigger than any single arrest, and he couldn’t solve it by standing around arguing with bystanders.

As he finished cuffing the thugs, Armsmaster took a breath and pushed the frustration aside. The pride he’d felt earlier had faded, but his resolve remained. He would keep working, and perhaps his new equipment would give him the means to make a genuine difference in a city where the status quo seemed so difficult to break.

At the same time, the Origin Boxes complicated matters further. As the meeting earlier had made clear, there could be many more of them scattered throughout Brockton Bay, and anyone could find one. It was fortunate that two people aligned with the heroes had already acquired them, but there was no reason to assume that future recipients would be as fortunate. Leet’s victory over Dauntless was proof enough that the boxes could upset the balance between capes.

Still, Armsmaster couldn’t help wondering whether Dauntless had lost because he’d relied too heavily on his powers instead of training to use them effectively. The thought brought a brief flicker of envy, followed by a trace of amusement he’d been careful to conceal during the meeting.

Whatever the reason for Dauntless’s defeat though. Leet couldn’t be dismissed any longer. Armsmaster would have to prepare accordingly, and that meant studying both his own new abilities and the threat they might eventually face.

Once the criminals were secured and ready for pickup by the police, he returned to his motorcycle and resumed his patrol. He could already think of several improvements to his combat prediction software, and if he could make proper use of his new limbs, perhaps the next confrontation would go differently.

He would prove that preparation and hard work could overcome even an opponent with an unexpected advantage.

As he started the engine, Armsmaster nodded to himself, a small smile forming beneath his helmet. He ignored the people still asking about his new limbs and rode on, unaware of the green-tinged man with an enlarged forehead watching him from an alley.