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89.34% My Stash of completed fics / Chapter 2481: 64

章 2481: 64

Chapter 64: Promise 7-3

Promise 7.3

With a heavy, final clunk, I set my creation down on Piggot's desk.

"I take it you didn't ask for this meeting first thing in the morning to offer me jewelry," Piggot said dryly. My lips pursed, but I held back any unfriendly retorts. She reached over and picked it up, examining it.

I had no idea what she was expecting, but she obviously didn't find it. If she thought it was going to be some kind of Tinkertech device, filled with complex mechanisms and futuristic technologies, then the unassuming piece of steel must have been incredibly underwhelming.

I'd wound up with another pendant. For no particular reason, really, except that it was easy enough to put on and take off and wouldn't need resizing for larger arms or fingers, the way a bracelet or ring might. It was something anyone could wear with little to no adjustment, and the effort involved in shaping the metal was miniscule.

Quite literally, minimum effort, maximum reward.

"And what am I looking at, exactly?" she asked when she was done.

"My plan for dealing with Leviathan," I told her firmly.

She looked back down at the pendant, then back up to me, and one eyebrow rose. "Explain."

I fidgeted a little. Maybe it was some bleedthrough from the casters I'd been using to iron out the details of this plan, but I wanted to start gesticulating with my hands and arms.

"I considered my options, and I decided the best strategy was to keep Leviathan from ever reaching the city, rather than trying to repel him once he already made landfall," I said. "That way, we never have to fight him and no one should be at any risk. A completely bloodless Endbringer battle."

Armsmaster scowled, an ugly expression that twisted his mouth and carved deep lines into his cheeks. He disapproved.

Khepri's knowledge told me immediately why: he was confident his nano-thorns could carry the day, that they would manage to kill Leviathan. Not only would one of the Endbringers be eliminated, but he would come out of it covered in glory as a nice side effect. It would be a gigantic win for the heroes and a nice boost to his career.

That insight into his character was a little jarring. Mostly because I couldn't see it. The man I'd met and the Armsmaster I knew — as little as I actually did — could be a little gruff and blunt, but he seemed like a fundamentally decent person.

Maybe the person Khepri knew had been the way he was because the way things had gone between them had drawn out all his worst parts. I wasn't really excited to find out how true that was.

Either way, I kind of agreed with him. Whatever might have happened, however things had shaken out in Khepri's future, if the alternative was to let a bunch of people be killed, then killing Leviathan would be a preferred outcome, even if the nano-thorns had failed in her version of things.

I would never accept the idea of "acceptable losses."

If Leviathan did come, however? Then it would confirm that there were a lot scarier and more devastating things to worry about.

Piggot looked at me skeptically, lifting the pendant. "And this is supposed to do that?"

"Not exactly," I answered. "That's just a…a kind of lodestone, a…a support item? For the…well, the spell I was going to use."

Piggot looked like she was trying very hard not to roll her eyes. Even Armsmaster was grimacing, like he wanted to say something but knew better than to actually say it.

"And what exactly is this…spell?" she asked.

Yes, I know, it sounds ridiculous, and I feel silly enough just saying it out loud.

I didn't know why. I'd long since grown used to my power's eccentricities. If my heroes said it was magic, then it was magic, and I wasn't going to try and prove them wrong. It seemed like a waste of focus and energy.

"It's an imitation of the most powerful defensive Noble Phantasm I know about," I said, "projected up and around the city from my castle's walls."

Piggot looked at me sharply. "Castle?"

Oh fuck. I hadn't told them, had I?

Fuck, I hadn't thought about that. The PRT and Protectorate hadn't known about the castle that was, even now, sitting out in the bay, hidden beneath a couple hundred feet of ocean water. And there were probably a couple dozen laws that I'd broken in the process of building it that I hadn't thought about then, either.

That…might be a little bit of a problem.

Understatement of the fucking century, there, Taylor.

"Can…we just pretend you didn't hear that?" I mumbled.

Her eyes narrowed as her brow drew down.

That was a no.

"I…built a castle under the bay, a few miles out from the shore. It's sitting on the ocean floor, about two hundred feet under the surface."

"You built an entire castle under the bay, in secret, in only a few months?" she demanded.

I held up a trio of three fingers.

"It was…more like three weeks," I admitted.

In the afternoons and on the weekends, mostly.

"How?"

There…was no good answer to that.

"…Magic?"

Piggot looked very much like she wanted to reach over her desk and strangle me.

"With what?" she asked through gritted teeth.

I looked away, cheeks burning. It didn't help; the only other thing to look at was the muscle jumping in Armsmaster's jaw and the twitch in his lips that spoke volumes about how frayed his self-control was becoming.

"…Magic?"

Splotches of red grew on Piggot's cheeks, and she let out a long, seething breath as she shut her eyes, as though not having to look at my face would help her regain some of her calm.

"I meant," she began, "with what materials?"

"I…don't know?" I told her sheepishly. "Sand and…water, I guess? Um, nothing from the Boat Graveyard or anything like that, if that's what you're asking."

I hadn't really bothered to consider it, at the time, where I was getting the materials for the bricks and mortar and pennants. I'd known I was shaping something, but I'd been a bit preoccupied with things like, 'Holy shit, I'm building a castle!' I hadn't been thinking about where everything was coming from.

"That's impossible," Armsmaster burst out, unable to keep quiet anymore. "The composition and consistency of sand and silt is structurally unstable for something as mechanically stressed as a wall that has to bear a load of such a significant mass and weight! Even under ideal conditions, it would collapse under the pressure of the subsurface ocean currents, let alone the motion of the tides!"

All of which I had no answer to. Not a satisfying one, anyway. I'd certainly been the one to build the castle, there was no disputing that. But I'd used Nimue's power, and more importantly, Nimue's knowledge, in order to do it. I could remember doing it, I could remember weaving the spells together, building that castle one step at a time. I could remember what I'd done, but the details and the theory behind it, the finer points of why I had to do this in that order, I had none of that, only vague impressions of knowledge.

"Look, I really don't understand how it works, only that it does," I admitted. "And anyway, is it even important? This was about fighting Leviathan."

Piggot's lips thinned, but she let it drop. "We'll discuss the issue of your flagrant disregard for government land and New Hampshire zoning laws later," she promised.

Armsmaster shifted, head whipping around. "Director…"

"Later." She turned back to me. "Now. You were saying? Something about projecting a spell up from your…castle walls?"

"It's…an imitation of the strongest defensive Noble Phantasm I know of," I picked up. "A barrier invoking the impenetrable walls of Camelot, an anti-siege type armament."

"Wait, hold on a moment," Piggot interrupted. "You've used that term several times, now. 'Noble Phantasm.' What is that, exactly?"

I pursed my lips and considered how to describe it.

"It's the…I don't have a good word for it," I said. "Maybe…distillation. A legend or a deed or even just an attribute belonging to a hero, distilled into the form of…well, anything, really. Some of them are like blessings or curses, but most of them… Armaments, like swords or shields, or mounts, like chariots or reins."

"For example?"

"Excalibur," I answered immediately. "Or Herakles slaying the Hydra. The Twelve Labors. Cúchulainn's spear. Aífe's legend as a teacher, condensed into an ability that lets her teach others skills, even ones she has no right knowing. Hassan of the Hundred Faces having the ability to split off his splintered personalities into separate bodies. There's… I can't really think of a limit to what a Noble Phantasm can be."

It boggled the mind when I considered it. The sheer breadth of possibility, even amongst the relatively small number of heroes I'd used and experimented with.

"And this spell you want to use," she said, "it's an imitation of one of these…Noble Phantasms?"

"Lord Camelot," I affirmed. "A shield that can deploy a barrier, embodying the impenetrable walls of Camelot. It won't be…quite the same. It's an imitation, so it would be less…potent. Less real. If, um, you think of the original as a solid structure, then the imitation would be hollow."

Hence why Lung, who had been borrowing the concept, the idea of a dragon by taking its shape, had been enough of a dragon to be weakened by Balmung, but not so much of one that he'd been as powerful as the real deal.

"Hollow?" asked Piggot.

How to explain it? Papier mâché wasn't really a good metaphor, since it implied fragility, and even as an imitation, Lord Camelot would be anything but fragile. Casting a metal frame wasn't that great a comparison, either, but maybe…

"Think of the spell like a steel mold," I said, "and the walls of my castle like ceramic blocks put inside it. Yes, the imitation is weaker, but with the castle walls to act as support to fill in the holes —"

"It can take impacts that would otherwise break it," said Armsmaster, realizing where I was going. "The underlying structure allows attacks to dissipate in ways they wouldn't if it were completely hollow."

I nodded.

"Exactly. Any deficiencies inherent in the imitation being an imitation are made up for by Castle Avalon bolstering it. It's still probably weaker than the original, but not as much so."

"I see," said Piggot. "And is there a reason why you can't just use the original…Noble Phantasm instead?"

I grimaced. "The…barrier manifests directly in front of the shield. If I wanted to get all of the city, I'd have to be…basically standing in the middle of the bay."

Not…impossible. I could give myself a waterwalking skill or something, but that would just go away when I Installed Galahad. I could Include instead, maybe? That solved the problem of walking on water, yeah. But I wasn't sure a Noble Phantasm that drew strength from the wielder's heart would work as well for me as for Galahad himself, who had been noble and steadfast to the end.

"Is there a reason you couldn't just stand on the Rig and deploy it there?" Piggot asked. There was something in her voice that said she thought I was being unnecessarily obtuse, or maybe implying I should have thought of that in the first place.

Maybe I should have.

Except, thinking about it now —

"She'd have to be standing essentially on the edge, or as close to it as physically possible," Armsmaster answered for me. "Otherwise, any part of the Rig that wasn't covered could be used by Leviathan to undermine her position. Like that, even the tiniest of slips could send her into the bay, leaving her at Leviathan's 'mercy.'"

That, basically. As far as I knew, Lord Camelot was a Noble Phantasm whose defense was just shy of absolute. It couldn't be pushed back, as long as the wielder's heart remained stalwart and unmoved. But it also did not magically allow the wielder to ignore the physics of the ground beneath your feet disappearing, and if I allowed even a moment of doubt to make my determination waver, that might be enough for Leviathan to knock me off balance.

I was not Galahad. Even when I was borrowing as much of his courage and wisdom as I could, I still wasn't him. I was just Taylor, pretending to be him. Even if his heart remained strong, mine could still falter.

There was also another problem.

"And even if that didn't happen, if Lord Camelot didn't work — for whatever reason — I'd be stranded out there," I added. "I could make it back on my own, sure, but Leviathan would make landfall long before I did."

Armsmaster nodded. "Which would mean we would be down a potent combatant. Any plan that relied upon her presence would risk immediate failure, should Leviathan force any other key personnel out of position."

"That's why I planned around the imitation, rather than the original," I said. "The original might be a surer bet, but the imitation would allow me to be in position to fight immediately if something goes wrong and it doesn't work."

"And what does happen if this plan of yours fails?" asked Piggot. "If this…imitation noble phantasm of yours doesn't work or Leviathan breaks through it?"

I'd considered that possibility, too. It was why Lord Camelot — imitation or otherwise — was only Plan A.

"Then we do our best to herd him somewhere remote and trap him in place," I answered grimly, "and I'll use the strongest offensive Noble Phantasm I know of to try and kill him. Preferably, before anyone gets hurt or killed."

The details of that would be…difficult. In terms of raw strength, I didn't know how the likes of Herakles, Gawain, or Siegfried compared to Alexandria, who did have the sheer physical ability to move Leviathan at least a little and lift him off his feet.

But if raw strength failed, there were definitely a few conceptual options that could work. Anyone with a high enough aptitude for commanding beasts or a Noble Phantasm that performed the same function should do. Gawain and Medusa came to mind.

Armsmaster scowled. "And you can't use that Noble Phantasm instead of the barrier, to kill him before he even reaches the city?"

"It's basically a gigantic, city-killing laser beam," I said, trying my best to keep sarcasm out of my voice. "It's costly, it's got a massive area of effect, and it's very, very noticeable. If the first hit isn't the last, then I won't get a second chance."

Either because I would've pushed myself too far or because Leviathan would simply refuse to give me an opening to use it a second time. There were a number of ways he could do that, from just avoiding my line of sight to putting as many obstacles between us as possible.

Even for a chance at killing Leviathan, I wouldn't kill whoever he used as human shields in the process.

"City-killing?" he asked.

"It's used for wiping entire castles, fortifications and all, off the map in one go. Whatever's left definitely wouldn't be big enough to call a city, anymore."

"Hence why you will absolutely not be using it inside the city," Piggot told me. There was something stern in her tone, like a reprimand. "Or anything like it, for that matter."

"I hadn't planned on it," I said. "The idea was to only use it when the only things in my way were Leviathan and a whole lot of open sea."

"The ecological effects of flash-evaporating that much sea water," Armsmaster began.

"Can be worried about if and when they become a problem," Piggot cut across him, "after Leviathan is either repelled or — and I can't believe I'm actually entertaining this — eliminated."

"I asked my power for heroes who could kill an Endbringer," I told her a little defensively.

"And your power is no more infallible than you are," Piggot rebutted. "Trusting any answer you get from it to be perfect is, quite frankly, a trap far too many capes fall into."

I held my tongue, because she was right; just because my passenger answered me with a small selection of heroes didn't mean those heroes were absolutely capable of doing what I'd asked for, no matter what.

Conditionally, certainly. But I hadn't specified conditions when I'd asked.

"So," Piggot went on, steering the subject back around, "the primary plan is a defensive barrier that should, hopefully, block Leviathan from even getting close to the city. You still haven't explained why that needs this."

She jangled the pendant demonstratively.

I grimaced.

"The…the Noble Phantasm — and therefore the spell imitating it — draws strength from the wielder's heart. Um, metaphorical heart, that is. The stronger and steadier his…resolve is the best word I have, the stronger the barrier. "

Both of Piggot's eyebrows rose. "Are you shitting me?" was written all over her face.

"I suppose I've heard more ridiculous conditions for powers to work on," she allowed. "Very well. And?"

"I'm…not Galahad," I admitted. "I don't have his…sureness and clarity of mind. Even with an Install — um, when I'm using all of his power, I mean — I'm not confident enough that I…"

That I wouldn't falter. That I wouldn't have a moment of doubt that would cause the whole thing to collapse. Any other time… Maybe. But I was still trying to draw the line between me and Khepri, and I didn't know that I could have the sheer confidence necessary when my head still wasn't on totally straight.

"So I made that," I went on, gesturing to the pendant, "and I was going to make a few others, so that the barrier wouldn't have to rely on one person's heart, but could draw strength from several."

"Splitting the burden in order to increase the efficiency and efficacy," Armsmaster noted with something like approval.

"It was the best solution I could come up with," I said.

"And how many of these did you intended to make?" Piggot asked.

"At least five," I told her. "But no more than seven."

Her eyes narrowed. I could almost see the cogs turning in her head, the suspicions that were percolating in her brain.

"The Wards," she accused.

"I thought about it," I confessed, "but no."

Because even before the conversation I'd heard last night, I'd come to realize some of the problems with the idea. The biggest issue was that they were teenagers, and teenagers were…kind of infamous for being insecure. Even if they were more mature than the average teenager, the Wards were still teenagers, and I'd eventually thought better of trusting them to have the confidence, surety, and mental fortitude necessary to hold the shape of something which took form based upon the strength of the heart.

After that conversation last night? Kid Win and Browbeat wouldn't be able to do it, because they wouldn't trust me enough for it to work. That had only made me more certain that the Wards shouldn't be the ones I gave these pendants to, the ones to whom I entrusted the task of powering Lord Camelot.

But the problem that had absolutely killed it? I'd realized that neither Piggot nor anyone else in a position to have a say about it would actually let me have the Wards do this.

"For several reasons," I went on, "but I knew you'd never let it happen. So."

Piggot huffed.

"You thought correctly," she said. "Was there anyone else you had in mind?"

I glanced at Armsmaster, who straightened, as he seemed to realize what I was thinking.

"Armsmaster. Legend. Alexandria." I had to keep myself from adding any emphasis to her name; much as I hated to admit it, Alexandria had a will of fucking steel. "Dauntless. Chevalier. Miss Militia, maybe."

If she didn't hate me, now. I hadn't been blind to how difficult she'd found it to even be in the same room as me; even if she didn't refuse outright, any uncertainty she had could undermine the whole thing.

"I don't have a huge list," I said. "I don't know enough Protectorate heroes well enough to come up with a comprehensive list of who has the strength of will to fill the role."

Piggot arched an eyebrow again.

"Not Eidolon?"

"I…don't know how his powers might interact with it," I lied. "Him being the only other Trump on anything like the same level as me. Figured it was safer not to take any chances."

Armsmaster shifted, but I slanted him a quick look, and he subsided, frowning. I didn't know if he still trusted me enough not to say anything, or if he'd report the lie the minute I left the room. I'd have to trust that he trusted that I had my reasons.

Eidolon was the one person I'd left out of the group of possible bearers immediately, without even really thinking about it. I hadn't even considered him an option, not once.

Because I could still remember him dying. Giving up, essentially. Being broken by what Scion had said.

He hadn't been the only one to give up, at the end, but he'd been one of our heaviest hitters, with more power than almost all the rest of us combined and the most reason to feel confident, and all it had taken to undo him was a few words. Just a sentence or two, and he'd entirely lost the will to fight.

I couldn't trust him to hold Lord Camelot. Not if whatever demons he had were that persuasive.

"While I'm not sure your logic holds, I don't see the issue in following your choices," Piggot reasoned. "It will, however, absolutely be on a volunteer basis. I will also be informing each candidate of the specifics of the situation, so that they can make an informed decision."

"That's fine," I said.

It might make me sound a bit kooky if she went into the whole "magic" thing, but as long as I had the people I needed, I wasn't super picky about whether or not people thought of me as strange. I mean, obviously, I would prefer they didn't, but as long as I was effective, the only people who might laugh were trolls on PHO.

"I'm perfectly willing to accept," Armsmaster said immediately.

Piggot did not look surprised. "Then you already have your first volunteer. I don't foresee most of the others refusing, either. Miss Militia, on the other hand…"

I closed my eyes briefly and let out a short sigh through my nostrils. "I understand."

She frowned. "I'll still ask," she promised, "but given the Echidna Incident, she may not accept."

Which was nothing I hadn't expected.

"With that in mind, let's discuss your Plan B," she said. She leaned forward, folding her hands on her desk. "Walk me through it."

"Herakles, Siegfried, or Gawain," I said. "One of those three, to push Leviathan into place."

"Any particular reason you chose those three?"

"They're three of the physically strongest heroes I have. Gawain especially, but there are caveats and conditions, and he'd tire me out the fastest."

Piggot's lips puckered thoughtfully. "Conditions?"

"Time of day and degree of sunlight," I answered. "He has a Noble Phantasm that invalidates those, but using it would likely speed up how quickly I tired by a factor of ten. Without either of those, he's about equal to the other two."

"And with it?"

"His performance triples across the board. Strength, speed, reaction time, durability — everything."

"But you're thinking you won't use him."

I frowned. "Probably not. The strain of using his Noble Phantasm as well as Excalibur, especially back to back, would probably put me back in my bed for another week."

Gawain was, without a doubt, one of my costliest heroes. The Armor of Sunlight he'd received during the Rigomer adventure was without a doubt a trump card, since it allowed him to use Numeral of the Saint at any time in any condition, but the combination was as deadly to me as to anything I faced with it.

Just ten minutes using it would probably be like spending an entire day fighting Lung with Siegfried.

"Excalibur?"

"Part three of Plan B," I answered. "The gigantic, city-killing laser."

Piggot's eyebrows shot towards her hairline. "Excalibur is the noble phantasm that shoots a giant laser beam?"

"I don't remember that being part of the myth," Armsmaster mumbled.

"And Galatine fires a wave of solar plasma thirteen kilometers long," I said a little impatiently.

Yes, I was aware, not all of these things seemed to have any basis in the myths and legends we had. Yes, I was aware, some of these things were also incredibly ridiculous and didn't make loads of sense. Yes, I was aware, because I'd gone through a lot of the same disbelief way back when I'd first started experimenting with Installs and querying my power about these heroes.

Powers were bullshit. Sometimes, my powers were extra special bullshit. Could we just get past that and move on?

"Galatine?"

"The sword of Gawain," Armsmaster answered.

Probably had a search engine connected to his helmet. I certainly hadn't heard about Galatine (or Arondight, for that matter) until I really started looking.

"Anyway," I said, "Excalibur is part three of Plan B. If it doesn't do the job and finish him off, then it'll at least do enough damage that Leviathan will likely retreat."

"Part three," Piggot repeated. "Yes. And part one is to move Leviathan into place with Herakles, Siegfried, or Gawain. Part two?"

"Holding him down, basically, so that I don't miss." I grimaced. "I…could use Gleipnir again, maybe? I don't know how well they'd hold him."

"Gleipnir?"

"The chains used to bind the monster wolf, Fenrir, from Norse mythology," said Armsmaster. "Made from six impossible things, so that they were impossible to break. The sound of a cat's footfall, a woman's beard, the roots of a mountain —"

"Yes, I get the point." Piggot turned back to me. "You said 'again,' meaning you've used it before?"

I swallowed the explanation on my tongue — that it wasn't the real Gleipnir, only a spell that embodied to concept — because it wasn't helpful and instead said, "On Noelle. Um, Echidna. It was before the Protectorate arrived; the only reason she got free was because Trickster teleported her out of it."

"But you aren't sure it could hold Leviathan."

"No. Not long enough, at least. I'd need about twenty or thirty seconds after he's trapped to get into position, switch to King Arthur, and charge up Excalibur. That doesn't work if Gleipnir breaks within ten. And Leviathan is a lot stronger than N…than Echidna was."

"So you would need something that could hold Leviathan in place for at least thirty seconds."

Armsmaster shifted, straightening. "Clockblocker. That's what you have in mind."

I hesitated, then nodded. "It was the only thing I could come up with," I admitted. "Anything I could make that could accomplish the same thing… It would take too much prepwork and too much effort to activate. I don't think I could have it ready for Sunday."

Even if I abandoned everything else and focused solely on just such a thing, three days wasn't enough time. Even if I worked as hard as possible, probably still not, and it would render the whole thing moot if I pushed myself so hard that I wouldn't have the energy to actually fight Leviathan, let alone use Excalibur.

It wasn't a matter of whether or not I could make something to hold Leviathan in place. It wasn't even that Medea didn't have the kind of magic that could do it, either. It was that there was either not enough time or that it would start to unravel too quickly.

But Clockblocker could do it with just a tap, and whatever he froze was basically inviolable. I could remember, distinctly, how Khepri had used his powers in tandem with a line of silk to cut Echidna in half. If I bound all his limbs, then even if Leviathan tore himself free, he'd have to rip off his arms and legs to do it.

Piggot frowned. "Even if I could guarantee that he would be willing to participate," she began, "as a Ward, I cannot condone risking his life by having him get so close to an Endbringer."

"He wouldn't have to freeze Leviathan himself," I said. "He wouldn't even have to get close. He'd just have to tap whatever actually gets used. He could stand somewhere safe and Vista could reduce the distance to nothing for the split second needed."

Piggot's frown deepened. "What I said for Clockblocker, for Vista, it applies even more so."

"She won't stay behind," I pointed out. "She was there in Khepri's version of things, too."

The frown became a scowl. "We've been over the subject of Khepri and her reliability."

My lips pursed. "Then I guess we'll find out exactly how reliable she is in a few days."

Her eyebrows pulled together. "I suppose we will, won't we," she said. She leaned back. "I'll see what I can do. If Vista and Clockblocker are both allowed to attend, then I will agree to your plan of them working in tandem to freeze Leviathan's bindings. As a contingency," she added, "in case Eidolon is unable to do so, for whatever reason."

Not ideal. Maybe Khepri's memories were prejudicing me a little too much, but I didn't want to rely on Eidolon for anything, if I didn't have to.

"That's fine," I said instead.

"How do you intend to hold it?" Armsmaster interrupted.

Piggot and I both turned to him.

"Your plan is well-considered. Simple, yet effective," he allowed. "However, you still haven't given a definitive answer as to the method by which Leviathan would be bound."

"A good point," Piggot agreed, turning back to me. "If you don't intend to use your…Gleipnir, did you have any specific method in mind for holding Leviathan in place?"

I grimaced.

I…hadn't given it much thought, no. I'd been more preoccupied with the other details and forgotten to hammer out exactly how I was going to hold Leviathan in place for Clockblocker to freeze. What was going to be binding it. I had…kind of just assumed there would be something.

Facing the question now, though… I could just use Gleipnir, again. Maybe. Would it count as a single item for Clockblocker to freeze, or would each ribbon of the spell count as a separate item? I wasn't sure about that.

Medea… But the Atlas spell was air pressure. It was the weight of the atmosphere in its entirety pressing in from all sides. Ignoring that it would be awkward and probably impossible for Clockblocker (or Eidolon, however he might do it) to freeze all that air, it would also defeat the point: if the spell locked Leviathan's entire body in place, then it would form a protective, time-locked shell and block Excalibur, or at least a portion of it.

Then perhaps instead of the more symbolic chains of Gleipnir, some literal chains should be used? Gawain had a Noble Phantasm that had once been used to bind a dragon and —

Chains.

"The Boat Graveyard," I realized.

Piggot's brow furrowed. "What?"

"The chains from the anchors of the ships in the Boat Graveyard," I clarified. "Actually, for that matter, I only need one. It would give us a place to put him, too — a place where no one and nothing of value is in the way, as long as I position everything right. I could set up a trap beforehand just off shore and move Leviathan into place…"

But Piggot was frowning.

"…What?"

"The ships of the Boat Graveyard are legally complicated," she said. "The ownership for some of them is contested. For others, the exact owner is difficult to determine, due to corporate mergers and businesses failing. Some of them were scheduled to be cleaned up years ago, but never were as a result of the logistical and technical hurdles involved. Legally, as Director of the PRT, East-Northeast Division, I cannot approve of any measure to remove or dispose of them."

I blinked. "What?"

"For that matter," added Armsmaster, "most of those ships have been exposed and left to rot for twenty years or more. Exposure to saltwater has likely corroded their anchor chains into uselessness."

"Fixing that is the work of an afternoon," I waved it off irritatedly. Any alchemist in my repertoire could do it easily. "Are you seriously telling me that this plan won't work because a bunch of guys in suits three-hundred miles away are going to complain about the ships they abandoned being atomized in the process?"

Piggot's lips pursed. "I don't appreciate that tone."

I scowled and very pointedly didn't apologize. Her eyes narrowed at me, but she didn't pursue the point, for now.

"I'm saying," she said, "that while I can approve the plan as a whole, this particular provision of it is something I am legally unable to sign off on."

"Then…"

"And if one of my Wards was to account for that and add such a provision secretly," she went on, "set it up in her free time rather than when she was on the clock and under my supervision, and implement it without my permission, then I would most certainly have to reprimand her after the fact, but I would be unable to stop her beforehand."

My brow furrowed.

Message received, Director.

I chanced a glance at Armsmaster, and he was frowning, but he hadn't protested the subterfuge and didn't look like he had any argument against it.

"I understand."

"Good." Piggot nodded grimly. "Now, did you have any further contingencies?"

I worked my jaw. "Not…really. If Excalibur doesn't work, there are a couple of other things I might be able to try, but the odds of their success aren't much higher. Most likely, I'd stick with King Arthur and keep fighting until we managed to drive Leviathan off."

"In other words, the standard plan for every other Endbringer fight on record," Piggot commented dryly. She picked up a pen and started jotting something down on a notepad. "Very well. I'll approve your plan provisionally and run it by the other Directors. In the meantime, I'd suggest you start preparing; we only have three days, after all."

She tossed me the pendant I'd set on her desk, and I had to scramble to catch it.

"Um, Director, there's one last thing," I began.

"Yes?" she asked.

I took a breath and steeled my nerves. "I'd like to start training the Wards."

Armsmaster frowned. "Mock missions will be suspended pending the resolution of the Leviathan attack, but joint training sessions will continue until —"

"Not with the Wards," I corrected. "Training them. Teaching them. Using Aífe's Noble Phantasm."

It was a gamble. Not only on how much I could or couldn't trust the Wards themselves, but because of just how this might be taken.

There were two prominent examples of capes who either granted powers or taught others using their powers. One was Teacher, whose powers were well-documented for their addictive properties and how they twisted the "student" into his willing slave. The other was Crane the Harmonious, who had kidnapped kids, taught them martial arts, and brainwashed them into something like a cult.

Both were in the Birdcage.

Piggot's brow furrowed.

"What did you have in mind?"

"The martial arts of the ancient Celts," I answered. "I want them each to have a Brute and Mover rating before Sunday."

And with only those two as examples, Piggot might think Aífe's power did the same. Whether or not she thought I knew it did depended on just how charitably she viewed me.

She paused a moment, seemed to mull it over, then leaned forward, frowning. "I'm not going to agree to anything until I see a demonstration."

But if she was willing to go that far, instead of shutting the idea down immediately? That was as good as permission.

"If you have a big enough room and some spare sheet metal," I told her, "then I'd be happy to give you one."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

6000 words of planning.

Which means now that the plan has been described, it has to go horribly, horribly wrong, right?

I wasn't sure whether Lord Camelot's barrier could be shaped, and I never got an answer from my Nasuverse lorekeeper, so I erred on the side of "no."

Also, Taylor, you should start your own line of jewelry.

If you want to support me as a writer so I can pay my bills, I'm on P A treon (p a treon . com (slash) James_D_Fawkes), and if P a treon is too long term, you could buy me a ko-fi (ko-fi . com (slash) jamesdfawkes).


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