The idea of Mortari and Jeanne Wynn succeeding like Erwin had described… doubly terrifying.

The notion of banding together with another Earth was tempting, if it meant a steady supply of food in the winter. More people that could fight off attacks like the horrendous one earlier.

“I can see the beginning. I could perhaps see the end,” Gary said. “What would fill the gap?”

“For that, you need ammunition in the chamber,” Erwin said. The man smiled. “I have a list.”

He picked up his phone. He found a page and showed it to Gary.

“A list of people with stories to tell. Horror stories about parahumans. Stories that stoke anger. You would pick the right stories at the right time to hand over to the press, see if they bite. You use these narratives to build something.”

Stories about people in positions on teams. Stories about the monsters. Stories about those who had re-engineered their identities.

“You’ve been keeping this up to date,” Gary observed.

The most recent was from four days prior. A family, it looked like. Julien and Irene Martin.

Beacon 8.1

A gloomy morning was punctuated by the worst blackout the Megalopolis had suffered yet, making plans more difficult.

The city was dark, and we were well into autumn, with temperatures dipping low enough that frost dusted farms, fields, and grass. The sunlight that managed to reach through the clouds and touch the ground melted the frost, which then remained melted, but it was a slow, inconsistent process that would take until ten or eleven o’clock to finish its work of changing things from a dull white-frosted green to a damp, vibrant green.

The world kept spinning, like a stubborn top, the seasons changed, and I was left to consider the logistics of costumes and updating them for the coming winter. Ninety percent of the group’s activities had taken place in the span between Norwalk to the west and Bridgeport to the east, and I could already tell that this area was a far cry from the more moderate, terrain-sheltered weather of the city I’d grown up in.

The wind didn’t help matters.

It was light out, but we apparently needed power, because the blackout meant that I got a text with a change of location for the meeting.

I had the ability to do a bit of a reconnaissance sweep before dropping in, because I knew that the others would be driving, and it would take time for everyone to adapt, especially with the condition of traffic across the Gimel Megalopolis.

No major crime, even with the blackout. Some people were scouting abandoned buildings, looking over their shoulders to see that nobody was watching them. My landing near them was enough to send them running.

Mischief, likely with some intention of breaking in, but not anything I could definitively act on.

I could see the crowd of costumed individuals well before I landed.