Mischa shot, firing through that same hole in the platform, a singular, powerful laser blast.

He rose back up, and Legend was there to shoot at him, far more lasers radiating out from the lone hero than the Isaiah could handle. More damage, mostly to tertiary systems. The ‘bait’, vulnerable looking panels, windows, head, arms. The Isaiah didn’t need any of those things. Only flight systems, cockpit, the power cell and the halo itself.

A quick tabulation showed him the damage. The blast from below had caught a few people who had been near Legend, knocked out the pyramid, and knocked out the cape that had been making it. Teacher’s soldiers had attacked, adding to the casualties.

Nine down. Forty-two more capes were gathered on the platform, using their powers to defend themselves and one another. Brutes at the front, others with cover fire. Crates that were lashed to the jutting platform were cover for the soldiers against the attack force, which now fought desperately.

Teacher’s face appeared on one screen.

“Saint,” Teacher’s voice came through more clearly than Saint’s communications had. The message wasn’t aimed at Mischa.

“What is it?” Saint asked.

“I see you joined the fight against Legend.”

“We were finding a spot outside your projected danger zone to stop for repairs, and we came across the fight. Is it a problem?”

“I need you to leave. You’re going to win if you keep this up.”

“And?”

“And I’d rather have Legend in a stalemate.”

“Why?”

“It’s not like you to ask why, Saint.”

Mischa adjusted the laser’s defenses, focusing on letting the lasers through in places the Isaiah could afford to take damage. It let him block damage to other areas.

Saint spoke, voice crackling out of sync with the onslaught of lasers and the powers being used by the Yàngbǎn-supported squad and Legend’s remaining forty capes. “You gave me free will, all necessary knowledge to fly these things and use the A.I.’s tech without the drawbacks, so I could ask these questions. Why?”

“Because I want him. Legend, when frustrated, bides his time and seeks dialogue. I would like a chance to have that dialogue and bring him onto my team.”

Mischa judged he was safe to look away from the laser defense screen, hit the button, and leaned in to speak into the microphone, “I think that is a very small chance. He is not the man he was.”

“Very small, agreed,” Teacher said, unruffled. “But according to our precognitives, the Legend who thinks his side has lost on all fronts is going to lay siege to the facility, tearing it down with his power.”

“We could defeat him,” Mischa said. “Shoot him down before he can.”

“You could not. He is much harder to take out of action than many think.”

“We’ll go,” Saint said. “I believe you. What do we do when we’ve repaired?”