Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Striding forward, a rucksack on one shoulder, bandages covering my skin, the light of the sun shining down upon me, I continue my long, often lonely journey. The road travels ever on, and each step takes me closer to my journey's end. How will my journey end? Will it bring me peace? Will it leave me desiring for different answers? Or will I be traveling more, not yet reaching the end of the path I walk?

So many questions, and so few answers.

The town of Willows Bend stands before me on my travels, it will be a place I can stop, and rest, let us hope they are willing to allow such a luxury for some time. Walking into town, I received stares, even some looks of pity or disgust from those who saw me, but I did not mind. The town looked like so many others I have passed through in my travels.

Reaching a bench, I sat down resting my head back slightly. I just let the world move on, as I stayed still, resting.

"Blessed am I for fair weather, and kind souls who aided me on my journey." I made thanks and set my bag down.

It took some time, but someone approached me. I opened my resting eyes and saw who it was that stood before me.

"Hey, buddy, you need to move along." the police officer told me.

I was quiet, looking up at him. Sighing, I grabbed my bag and stood up from the bench.

"I must apologize, I have walked a long journey, and just need some time to rest." I requested, trying to remain humble in the simple question.

"Not my choice, People are worried that you may be causing problems, I'm just doing my job. The mask and the vest, along with the bag, put a lot of people on edge."

"Fear is natural. I am simply passing through, and need to rest. I will be leaving in time but do know officer that I am someone who does not seek trouble nor do I wish to bring harm to the innocent. I simply wish for some time to rest before resuming my journey as Moses's journey towards the holy land when he and God's chosen people escape enslavement." I spoke towards the officer who seemed to be taken aback a little looking over me not with the eyes of one who would scrutinize but out of curiosity.

"Gotta ask sir. Are you Christian or a crazy?" The officer asks me before I give a soft shake of my head "I am not of those who have twisted the words of our father but if you must know I am a follower of the lord but I do not believe that there should be so many different sects of us for we all believe in the same god do we not?"

That got a good-hearted laugh from the officer who nods now adorn with a soft smile "Amen. Look I'm sorry for giving you a hard time but it really is the way you look that gave some folks round here an uneasy feeling. If you're looking for a place to rest and get something to eat there is this little dinner I like to stop by that has really good coffee."

With a nod of my head, I said towards the officer "Bless you for your kindness sir. I could use some food after my long journey."

The officer nods as well before looking down towards my side before he adds with a chuckle "An armed man of god. Happy that you're open carrying but I hope you're only planning to use that in self-defense." He motions his head towards the handgun which was holstered within the dark brown leather hide holster which was attached to my hip.

I only nodded back as I answered the officer "As I said before sir. I am a man of the lord and do not wish to start trouble, but if trouble should come looking for me then I shall defend myself. After all, was it not Jesus who said to his followers 'But now let the one who has a moneybag take it, and likewise a knapsack. And let the one who has no sword sell his cloak and buy one.' Did he not?" I added a small chuckle as the officer seemed to laugh good heartily as well.

The Officer nods as he adds "Ah but my good man the good book also reminds us 'For all who take the sword will perish by the sword.' Remember that." However, his smile told me differently before he finally gave me directions towards the dinner before we both wished ourselves a blessed day.

A meal was something that sounded nice, small snacks on the long journey fueled my body, but a meal with others was fuel for the soul. As I approached the small diner, I walked inside and witnessed a few of those eating had stopped and turned to glance at me.

I walked over to an empty seat at the counter and sat down. The woman standing behind the counter paused and looked at me, worry was clear in her eyes.

"You're not a cape are you hun?" She asked.

"No, I am not a cape, what I am is just a sinner who is traveling and seeking to find redemption, both for myself and for those I come across, but I have not come to make you listen to God's word no I am just here to sit down and eat. My journey is far from complete and I plan to continue the journey well before the sun sets." I explained as I pulled out my wallet and looked at the bills that I had inside twenty seven dollars was all I had it seemed.

"I will take the-" My eyes traveled over the simple laminated menu. "The hamburger with mashed potatoes and just a glass of water will be fine." I ordered with nine dollars taken out of my wallet and handed it to the woman, who took the five and four-dollar coins I had pulled from it.

"I'll bring that out to ya." She turned and handed the note with my order to the kitchen window.

Sitting inside, the sounds of people's conversations slowly returned. A man continued to look in my direction if I had to guess either drawn to my bag or my bandaged form. As I waited, the glass of water was brought over. Using a straw I adjusted the bandages that covered my mouth and drank from the glass all while it seemed that part of my burned lips were now visible for some onlookers to see.

It was a curious child, one innocent of mind free of sin, that spoke louder than they intended, and asked their parents an innocent question, "Why is that man dressed like a mummy and a soldier?"

The parents tried to hush the child, but I couldn't help but chuckle just slightly. The faces of the parents were as worried as I did.

"It is because I use them to heal and to put others at ease." I answered as it turned the family in the booth to now look towards me.

"Why not go to the doctor?" The child asked as they tilted their head just slightly.

"What I heal from can not be fixed by a doctor of the body, nor one of the mind. What I seek is a doctor of the soul and few can truly heal the injuries I have gained for my greatest of injuries are those which have been inflicted upon my very soul and I am afraid only the lord can heal my soul of those injuries." I answered the child in a soft tone of voice. A voice that seems to hold more weight than some could understand when one adds the way I look and dress.

The child seems to tilt their head again as they ask "Why?"

I couldn't help but chuckle ever so slightly "from the mouth of babes." Shaking my head while others seemed to join in my small laughter that escaped my lips I said towards the child "I am afraid that I am not the one to answer such a question. For that is something to be discussed between you and your family as well as those for whom preach and spread the word of our lord."

The child's family sent me thankful looks as they now took the child's attention away from me to begin a hushed conversation about what I said so I decided to return my attention back to my own booth as I reached into my vest's inner pocket which seems to put some people on edge who were still paying attention to me only to relax as I materialized a rather old bible from within.

As I read in peace I felt a presence enter into my booth which caused me to look up to see I was no longer alone for sitting across from me was a man in a tan or possibly dark earth uniform wearing a black vest with a black ball cap atop his head with the bold letters 'PRT' adorn on both the vest and the ballcap.

"Mind if I join you stranger?" The PRT man asked to which I simply nodded that he may, which resulted in both of us sitting in a comfortable silence before the man seemed to look at me and asked "Which passage are you reading?"

Looking up to look at the man I answered "Ephesians 1:7 'In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace' It is one that I believe is rather relevant in today's society."

The PRT man seems to raise an eyebrow as he asks "Really? Huh, I must have not studied that one when I used to go to Sunday school. However, the reason I came to join you is because we don't really get folks like you here in our region. So I'm curious as to where ya going, stranger?"

I nod my head at his question as one who deals with the laws related towards those with extraordinary abilities would be curious about a man covered head to toe in bandages wearing a tactical vest and would wonder where one would wander towards. "Understandable friend but to answer your question I am heading east and from where I travel is that of Utah."

The PRT man looked honestly surprised as says with a small smile "A Mormon this far out? I'll be. Well welcome to Arizona friend but now you got my curiosity peaked even more as to why you're heading East since the rare Mormons we do get in a blue moon seem to want to head South or North maybe even West but very rarely East less they headin towards Texarkana."

"My destination lies further beyond there. It is one that I take traveling with those who let me to those who I will not bother making them change their own journey for the sake of mine. I am to some taking a pilgrimage for my own sake, for my own soul, to seek enlightenment or even forgiveness for my own past sins." I explained, taking a knife to the burger and cutting it in half to make it easier to eat with minimal movement of the bandages.

The PRT man seems to nod in understanding "Well I won't pry into another man's reasoning to be seeking closure or even forgiveness for their sins. Lord knows I and a few of the boys and girls of the PRT pay a visit to the confessional once and a while to help us deal with what we do from nine to five."

"The work to keep justice and order against the nature of evil man is one that pushes us all. A sinner's nature is to challenge the Saint but few hearts are so able to resist the temptations of the flesh and of the mind. Seek solace that you are helping even if not thanked for even those closest to our Lord suffered at those who they denied." I explained taking a bite of my meal.

The PRT man remained silent as I ate then seemed to chuckle as he asked "Wise words my strange friend but now I gotta ask if you happen to be a padre or a street preacher?"

"I am neither one who preaches in a building, nor one who makes others listen where I am unwanted. I only speak the Lord's word to those who seek me out or those for whom will listen for his word is meant to be for anyone who seeks to be given a chance at salvation for their mortal souls." I told him as I finished eating.

The PRT man looked at me, it was probably a different answer than what he expected. The rest of my meal was done in mostly silence. The man from the PRT left heading over to the counter, speaking with a few other people at the diner. A few people walked out, and a few more came in. Willows Bend was a simple rural town.

As I finished the meal, I set the utensils on the plate. I looked down before the door swung open, 3 people stormed their way in.

"This is a robbery! Hands up! Hey bitch! Take the money out of the register!" The lead man shouted.

The PRT man reached for his belt, only for a shot to be heard, as he fell down, clutching his shoulder as he fell to the ground. My hand moved to the holster. One of the 3 turned and raised their gun at me. The look in their eyes was a look of many conflicting emotions.

"Son. Lower the gun." I requested, undoing the strap on my holster.

"Hand over your wallet!" they demanded.

"Is this what you will gain here lasts longer than the desire for justice? Wealth and power are fleeting things. At this time you hold one to gain the other but both will be lost in time, and you will have nothing. Lower your weapons." I ordered sternly "Pain does much to shape the soul, both that you inflict upon others and upon yourself." I told him, slowly moving the safety.

"Put your hands up you mummy-looking bastard!" They shouted shouldering the gun as it was aimed in my direction.

"I must apologize for what will happen." I said, sighing truly wishing that such an action I was about to take could be avoided.

I kicked the table up and slammed it against him, the plate, cup, napkin holder, and other items being thrown at him. The gun was knocked down by the table before I moved out of the booth, ducking behind the turned-over table.

Quickly unholstering my own gun I leaned to the right of the overturned table aiming at the two others as they turned to see their comrade had fallen to the ground and were now moving to act as they raised their weapons towards my direction. Yet with the Lord's will, I was faster.

My first shot fired a roar as the 357 slug slammed into the leg of the furthest shattered their shin and caused a small eruption of blood, flesh, and bone making them fall, their gun dropping as they fell to the ground screaming in pain as they clutched their bloody shin. My next shot was aimed at the stomach of the middle individual. With one shot, they fell down crying out in pain as they doubled over. Lastly, the man who was closest attempted to raise their gun to shoot at me.

I flipped my own around now holding the barrel and slid to use the handle of my pistol to strike him in the side of the head grabbing the handguard of the gun then used that point of control to pull the gun forward ripping it from the man's grasp. Nearly making him lose control of the long rifle, I then slammed the stock of the gun back towards his temple, making him lose the will to stay within the world of the awoken as he finally released the shotgun and fell backward to the floor.

With a sigh, I holstered my pistol before putting the shotgun in my hands down, I unloaded it with purpose as I set it and the other weapons on the counter before making my way toward the downed PRT man to see what aid I could render unto him.

"I will be taking my leave. I trust that you can ensure that these sinners are given judgment?" I asked the man from the PRT as he grunted in pain all the while I helped him into a booth.

"Debbie. Get the Deputy here if he isn't already on his way. As for you. Thank you. Guess the lord be lookin' out for me today hehe ow hurts to laugh." the PRT man winced as he tried to see the positive of the situation.

"The work of the Lord is always a mystery. It may have been a simple chance of man that I was here, or it may have been God's providence that placed me here to ensure that the cruel were punished, and the good man could continue his work." I said to the wounded PRT man who simply chuckled again before cringing in pain.

"Good guy with a gun right? As the old sayin goes, stranger." Looking out of the window towards the sound of sirens headin' towards the establishment he looks back at his savior and says "Go on with ya travels. I think we fine folks can keep these three outlaws from tryin' to start trouble again."

"Then I wish you all the best. May the Lord's blessings be upon you." I picked up my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and walked out of the diner. I had a long journey ahead, one that would lead me to a place I once called home. A place that needed someone to try and save it, even if few souls were there to truly save.

Of course, once my journey began again I could not help but marvel at the beauty that I witnessed from nature's greatest creation blessed unto us from God, from the high cliffs I witnessed the most breathtaking sunsets and rises, to massive plains where I watch wild herds roam and flourish.

Truly a beautiful world made in the lord's image.
Yet no matter the town I roam into there always seem to be those who have succumbed to the sin of greed as they attempt to either take from their fellow man or break the sixth commandment as they attempt to take another life, an innocent life. Every time they try I step in and stop them which sometimes results in my own breaking such a commandment even if in the defense of the innocent and those who have not sinned themselves.

With the sun setting on this day I looked out as I wandered towards the nearby Cedar cliffs, as I looked for possible shelter from the elements that may come in the night.

I turned walking the short relative distance from the road up a trail before finding a cave that had formed into the side of the cliff which caused me to smile under my bandages "Thank you lord for this small miracle." I said in a low tired voice before finally, I found a spot where I could unroll my bedroll from my pack and even a leveled part for my portable heater which was gifted to me from a nice family-owned store whom I saved from being killed and robbed.

Resting upon a rock, I removed my vest, set it down, unbuttoned my shirt, and began to unwrap my bandages. As the air made contact with my burned skin, it burned, as if the fire that caused my condition was still there burning as hot as the flames of hell that should have taken my life that day.

Yet by the grace of the Lord, I was not taken on that day for what reason I did not know at the time but as I traveled these lands I began to understand what my purpose might be or at least assume as one simply can not truly understand the Lord and their great mysteries or ways for which they work.

Setting down the map I acquired in Dallas, I began to see what my next destination was as I attempted to keep from entering into the cities and mostly stuck to the small towns and farm counties which made up the vast majority of the United States. Tracing my finger I saw that I would need to stick to Highway 64 to 88. I could avoid the major cities until I hit Highway 90 which was a straight shot to my destination.

With a sigh of contemplation, I folded up the map before going to apply the medicine to my burns as I prepared to pray to god for safe travels as well as prayer for an honest night's sleep free of the nightmares which seem to plague me as I try to find comfort within the embrace of blissful slumber.

PRT East North-East
Conference Room #7
7-7-10

If there was one thing Piggot hated the most it was having a surprise be dropped on her lap even worse when said surprise was now on not just the PRT watchlist. No.

Said surprise was also the NSA, FBI, hell EVEN HOMELANDS Watchlist because of the fact they were suspected of making their way across the United States on foot, which made it that much harder to track them and only ever got updates on said person of interest anytime they stop at a small town which when the reports came in at first made her and most of the PRT have a collective stroke thinking it was a new member of The Nine.

A man entering town covered in burns wouldn't have been the first individual to try and audition for the wandering band of mass murderers. Most of the time, it ended with a kill order and the collection of its bounty, shortly after a few more sightings and one or two incidents that made them notorious for a short time. However, the few times the actions do, it is safe to say they are either killed if the 9 are not looking for new members or join, as they replace a member that they killed.

Yet when no reports of towns going dark anytime they went through allowed everyone to let out a breath of relief ONLY! To suck it in again AFTER the information of them being religious came in which made most everyone assume it was a member of the True Apostles, a cult villain group who believed that Scion was the physical form of Satan, trying to pass for Christ.

This was bad in a different way, the True Apostles were crazies and they harshly judged, often crucifying, burning alive, flagellation, and other methods to punish those they sentenced as Sinners.

Yet again they relaxed when information came in from the local Arkansas branch that this person of interest was in fact a follower of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter‑day Saints Aka Mormonism or as Piggot sees the person of interest. A Mormon.

A simple Mormon covered head to toe in bandages open carrying a large caliber handgun with a backpack and being the picture-perfect example of a Good Samaritan since every report they have on this person either says he saved lives, helped the locals, or both, and went on the dusty trail heading straight for them. Well, the North East, but that was too close for her own comfort to be eased.

Which frustrated the Director to high hell and back to the point she had to go through her dialysis process almost three times a day now due to the stress this person of interest placed on her. Director Piggot was not a happy woman. No, she wasn't.

Which was why she was holding a meeting with all the high-ranking members, officers, and even office staff of the ENE to catch them up to speed on this good samaritan who was heading their way.

"Armsmaster, refresh us with the Profile of the subject of this meeting." Piggot began.

"Codenamed: The Burned Man
Name: John Doe

Description of Individual: Standing 6' even in height, estimated to be 200-220lbs, always seen covered head to toe in bandages, preferred choice of clothing are jeans, with buttoned up shirts, boots, and a bulletproof vest, occasionally a duster is reported to be worn, occasionally seen with a large brimmed hat.

Weapons: A handgun was identified as "Similar to a 1911" Caliber in a possible range of .40 to .357, claims varied, and ballistics have suggested that range of caliber. Additionally, it should be made aware, that he carries a bowie knife, and has been reported to have used his belt to strangle an individual.

Addendum: the handgun they use could be a variation of the auto magnum variants or Wildey auto magnum. However, until such time as the subject's weapon has been properly identified all reports regarding the handgun used by the subject shall be simply known as a '1911 pattern handgun' until such time this designation can be changed.

Powers Rating: N/A (unknown if powered)

List of actions
Has stopped a total of seven armed robberies as well as rendered first aid to any injured during such crimes be they civilian first responder or PRT personnel.

On Top of this, the subject has also been noted to have helped with soup kitchens or any other means of what would fall under 'good samaritan' work including helping the homeless by bringing them food or clothes. The subject has even been spotted helping church functions which seem to drive some sort of either food or clothing drives.

Reports of when the subject first emerged to current whereabouts.
Utah: 09/15/09
Arizona:10/22/09
New Mexico: 11/02/09
Texas: 12/08/09
Arkansas: 1/03/10
Oklahoma: 1/23/10
Kentucky 2/13/10
Ohio: 3/15/10
Virginia: 3/27/10

The last update on the subject's location was in the Appalachian region of Virginia around mid-spring 2010, but it was lost due to the wilderness region and weather patterns.

"So we have a man making his way across the United States doing good, and he just happens to be religious? That doesn't sound like something we should be worried about." Miss Militia pointed out slightly confused about why this was concerning to them.

"MM Something ya gotta learn about us Americans or I should say the government. Is when a holy man is able to do this much good and in such a short amount of time all on foot. It's gonna raise some concerns." Assault added only to quickly say "However I have nothing against this guy considering how much good he seems to be doing when he's not saving good folks from bad people."

"What is concerning is the fact that he claims that it is his journey that leads him on. Most likely, he is on approach to one of three major metropolitan cities. New York, Boston, or Here." Piggot said as she looked at each member present. "Another factor you seem to forget Assault is that Homeland, yes HOMELAND Security gave us a heads up on the guy after he saved folks from a bank robbery in Texas against a BRUTE rated cape, rank 2, Intensity subtype." She just glared at Assault daring him to make a smart-ass remark.

"Ok, so he was able to take out 1 reasonably challenging-" Assault started only to get cut off.

"He had incapacitated 13 capes, blasters, brutes, strikers, movers, strangers, changers, thinkers, and a breaker rating were all noted in the parahumans he defeated. 3 of them were in a group together in Ohio, notably a cape under the name of "Storm Drummer", a Blaster 4, Trump 2, and a Brute 1. He was known to create his "weapon" known as his "Storm Drum" a power-summoned weapon, that was a fully-automatic barrage/damage blaster-type beam of electricity. A challenge for local Protectorate forces. Storm Drummer was captured with 4 broken ribs, both shoulders dislocated, and a concussion." Armsmaster explained.

Assault and most everyone stared at the large armored man before Piggot added "He also took down his two friends in a span of and I quote the report "Shootin' faster than ole Earp himself' end quote." Armsmaster's face was not amused by the colloquialism slipping into the official reports. "What does that tell you Assault?" Piggot asks.

The speedster was silent before he finally answered "Clearly he's on a mission from god and as such has God on his side?" He ended his answer with a clear uncertain question.

"Ok, so other than being a surprisingly competent Cape Counter and not abiding by the Unwritten rules due to him not being a Parahuman, we can only assume that something we are to be on the lookout for if this person shows up and causes the local flavor of gangs to start hunting him?" Dauntless brought up the most likely situation to occur with the known history of the man.

"Or when he starts converting them to believe in our lord and Savior Jesus Christ." Joked Clock Blocker.

"I'm not taking any handouts." Kid Win shook his head.

Carlos just sat with his arms crossed as he coughed.

"Sorry Aegis, no offense." Kid Win apologized to his friend, who was a devoted catholic.

Miss Militia decided to add from the file "Well he's a believer in Jesus, yes, but it says here he's a Mormon."

Assault already had a joke ready as he exclaims "OH GOD THAT'S WORST!"

"Do we need to get HR in here at the rate you are making these comments?" Piggot asked, her last nerve being picked at by the repeated jabs by Assault.

"I'll be good." Assault added quickly as Piggot huffed "Now, getting back on track." She then points to the map of the US with the states John Doe had been in marked "Our holy man was last seen here in the Appalachian mountains between the state borders of West Virginia and Virginia proper. From what we gathered he sticks mostly to the roads and highways which connect to small towns and farm counties. So our man could be anywhere between highways 70 to 89 which connects New York, Boston, and our lovely slice of hell we call home." She turns back to the gathered members of the ENE.

"Ok, so now we just keep an eye open and wait until someone reports him showing up?" Velocity asked.

"Looks like this is going to be fun. Maybe he's just coming to ask Panacea to heal him." Vista suggested.

"Or, and I'm being serious here, unlike Assault. He could be coming here to punish the sinner and help the innocent." Added Kid Win, which got Carlos to honestly look at him surprised before adopting a clearly thinking face as he cups his chin.

"Maybe he's just here because there's a lot of people needing an express ticket to hell." Shadow Stalker voiced her own opinion, a rare event that happened at these meetings.

"Language." Gallant chided softly towards Shadow Stalker. He then added "But she does bring up a good point, this could be motivated by his religion. Not in a crusade kind of way but maybe him trying to honestly come here to help people save their souls from sin and punish the gangs only if he is attacked first as we have seen from the evidence presented."

"Enough with the theories. We are not going to be assuming anything until we either have A. a reason to detain him and ask, B. A declaration by him of his intent, or C. Someone finally gets him to sit down and gets the answers that have not been asked in any official reports." Piggot gave the 3 conditions that would answer the question of 'Why are you doing this and why are you coming here.'

"Now, any questions?" Armsmaster examined the room with his team members and the Wards along with regular PRT officers and agents.

No one raised their hands or voiced a question.

Piggot nods as she orders "Dismissed."

Chapter Text

The road was long, there were kindnesses, and cruelties. Those who joined and eventually left. Those who claimed they had the answers and those who came to ask questions. The road led him, he let god decide where his path would end, and so it seemed that his journey was nearing an end. It was a feeling, he had traveled from Utah, to the Ocean where the sun rises.

With night coming, the man would set up camp alongside the road. Carrying his rucksack, he set it down and made a simple fire pit, stones, and branches. Resting on a log, the fire came to life slowly.

The Burned Man, that’s what he was called. He couldn’t remember what his name was…he couldn’t remember much at all. In its own way, whatever created him, was a baptism. Unlike the baptism in the River Jordan, this did not wash away sin, this burned away the identity of the man who he once was.

What he knew was he was in a hospital when he first awoke. It was the Mormons in Utah that helped him, it was seen as a miracle. His body was burned and he had no skin left. He was wrapped in bandages. There were no expectations for him to live, but he survived, the pain was immense, but he had something that refused to let him give up.

He saw a vision…or maybe it was a dream, it could be either. He was in the ruined frame of a building, every part of him hurt, and he saw only a flame, one that burned with no heat, without consuming what it burned upon.

It only spoke one word in his dream, “Live”.

In his pain, he recovered. In his suffering, he found the strength to walk. In his torment, he learned to live once more. And in the darkness, he found light, one that now guided him, and one he would live by.

The campfire glowed brighter in the darkness along the road. As he continued to gently poke the fire, the sounds of an engine filled the distance before slowly it died. From the road, a figure approached, she wore a simple jacket, dressed like she was ready to hike.

“Hello stranger. Do you need a ride into town?” She asked, her voice carried a slight accent.

“No. I am resting. I have journeyed here and now I choose to rest. Your offer is kind, but I could not repay it at this time.” He explained

The woman smiled slightly as she came closer “Well then, would you like some company at least? If you don’t mind at least?”

“Company is always welcome, be it with friends, or strangers.’’ He said with a kind tone to his voice as he motions to the log across from him as the fire burns, the woman came taking the offered seat as she introduced herself “I haven't introduced myself, names Hannah. Hannah Washington. What's yours?”

The man smiled, though it was hidden under the bandages that covered his face.

“My name has been disconnected from me in my own creation. For who I was is now gone to me. I have been renamed by others, as Burned Man or The Burned Man if one addresses it as a title.” He gently nodded, opening his rucksack and taking out a small canteen.

Hannah smiled slightly as she rested her chin within her palm letting out a small chuckle “Well I'll admit, that is a bit of a morbid title or even a name fit for a cape, but really you don't remember your name? Like at all?”

“What I remember is little more than fragments of dreams and whispers of memory that constructs little more than a life that may once have existed. But I do not know more than that. For me to try and act as I may have been would be to play a role in a play that I do not have the script for.” He spoke in a solemn tone of voice which caused the woman to look at him with slight pity.

“That's truly sad to hear, I couldn’t think of going through life not knowing who I was.” She said to the man “How do you handle it? It can’t be easy.”

“When you do not know your own path, you find that the roads may be more liberating than one expects. The past may hold one back, but it does not mean you can not move forward. The roads you travel in the past may fade, but you always have a path that can lead you on. A road with no sign still leads somewhere.” the burned man explained, as he set the stick he used to poke the fire down.

Hannah smiled as she leaned on her leg looking at the fire “the way you speak tells me that you're a very traveled man of the world.”

“I chose to experience the world as it stands. Every stop was either from need, or by chance. I neither deny those who seek to join me, and I accept those who desire to have me gone. I have spoken with many, had a great deal of time to think and find answers for both myself and to answer for others.” He explained.

Hannah nods her head ever so slightly “That is rather deep.”

“It can be to some, others can find answers quickly on their own, others can spend years on answering those questions. Some seek answers from others, others seek answers from themselves. I found my answers in faith.” The burned man explained.

He gently extracted a cloth wrapped book, delicately unwrapping it and pulling out a bible.

“I take it you have a passage in mind for our conversation?” Hannah questioned.

“Not exactly. No. I do not ask those who find me to believe what I do. I am just one who is of certain rituals. Each night. I will reflect upon the passages of the Lord, to cleanse my mind. I change some bandages, to cleanse my body, and I cleanse my weapon on days I act to defend myself, and in the defense of others, today is not one such day.” The burned man explained, running a thumb along pages of the bible, before opening to a seemingly random page, and reading.

Hannah stayed quiet, almost expecting him to read outloud to her yet she couldn’t help but find that she could listen to him talk as his voice was not too deep, not too gravelly, nor was it to high it was just the right tone of voice that one could listen to read the phone book from.

“Tell me. What do you believe it was that had you stop and had us meet? Are you one who believes in the plan of the All Mighty, or do you believe that everything is simply chance and chaos?” He asked, just slightly tilting his head up from the Bible.

Hannah sits back slightly as she thinks before finally saying “I honestly don’t know, maybe everything is preordained, maybe there is really a higher being up there looking over us, maybe there is even a God? I honestly don’t even know with all the stuff like heroes and villains, powers it really does make one wonder doesn’t it?” She honestly didn’t have an answer because really she never truly thought about it.

“It is alright to not know. After all, Thomas was one who stood the closest to the Lord and even he doubted. There are many who may not believe in anything. To many, they find an answer that is most comfortable with their life. I can no more change the stars that decorate the heavens than I can change how one finds their own path, be it to salvation or whatever they seek.” The Burned man explained.

Hannah nods as she asks “Have you ever had doubts yourself then?”

A small chuckle escaped his throat, “The only ones who never find doubt are those who would see a cliff and would never turn to avoid falling. I have doubts, in both my action and my own faith, I have doubted both, but I never let that doubt be more than a weight that I am burdened with.”

Hannah adorned a small smile “Must have seen a lot of folks doubting themselves if you had to come to that conclusion, then again I myself have never really been a very religious person even with my own past.” Her face showed her companion that she did clearly have a past she wasn’t proud of but to what he did not know nor was it his place to know.

“Perhaps there will be a time where we will cross paths again. And we will have a chance for faith to be discussed. The night grows late, and I do not wish for you to stay in the cold with a simple pilgrim, as he finds his own path.” The burned man slowly closed the bible, and with care, wrapped the book in cloth and returned it to his pack, pulling out a set of bandages as his hand withdrew.

Hannah looked towards the man as she offered “I could help you if you want? I could even keep you company so you're not camping alone.”

“It isn’t necessary. I have…seen many reactions towards my affliction. A peaceful night under God's watchful eye can be shared, but I do not want you to be in pain when dawn’s light comes from an unplanned night.” The burned man explained, his voice remorseful as he slowly ran a hand on his forearm, the bandages slowly moving just slightly as he found the end and loosened it just slightly.

Hannah gave a curt nod as she got up and walked back to her bike before returning with both a bed roll and sleeping bag, she set up her makeshift sleeping arrangements before she settled in for the night before she asked “I know this might be out of the blue, but what are your views on heroes and villains? Just curious is all.”

The bandaged man seemed to adopt a thinking posture as he nodded ever so slightly. “For my views on those who call themselves Villains as many in the civilized world would paint them, I personally see them as one would see a sinner.” He slowly undid his own bedroll as he continued “And as the good book teaches us, love the sinner hate the sin.” Before unrolling his own sleeping bag.

“And heroes?” Hannah asked.

“A hero, in this case, is a title that may not be truly earned, but is one that is strived for by many. I do not doubt many seek to do good, but pride is a sin that takes many good men and women which may lead to their fall.” He explained, he looked at the fire, staring into the dying flames.

“What is a hero, other than he who stands for what is good and just in the world, those with powers, and those without power, all people can rise up and become a hero to others.” He stated slowly poking the fire “But with pride comes greed even the greatest of the sins. So while I respect Heroes, much like any organization there is always corruption.”

Hannah slowly nods as she lays her head down before saying towards the man after he finally laid down himself with his holstered pistol near his head “You really do have a deep philosophical and religious view of the world. Has anyone ever told ya that?”

“There have been a few. But I do not let it be all that I am.” He stated, before he took a stick, spreading the sticks that were burning apart, to slowly kill the fire.

“There are many things in the world, and man has made many as well. We may create, but we are flawed. A good man may fall to evil, and the evil man may do good. It is not for us to judge their souls. We can only pray that when our time comes, we are judged fairly.” He stated, laying down, looking to the sky.

— — — — —

In the morning, Hannah woke up to see the camp site she rested at was packed up, the only signs being the ashes and the ring of stone. To her, it was a surprise, unlike other nights, she didn’t dream, she didn’t see the nightmare of her getting her powers.

She slowly got up, expecting to see her bike to be gone, but it was still there, with a note.

“Hannah. I came to this city because I was led here by God to act. I made my pilgrimage to discover who I was. You were the first to speak to me here, but I feel that while I discover the man I was, there will be those who will speak of me as a demon, rather than a saint. I act only in the safety of others, and in accordance with the word of the Lord. I do not know when, or if we will speak again, but I hope my words are enlightening to you, and can lead you to a path that ends in the salvation of your soul, even if my own does not.”

-The burned man

Hannah slowly adopted a soft smile and even chuckled “If only…if only.” She knew she wasn’t truly damned but at the sametime she couldn’t help but think that with all she's done she wouldn’t be welcomed into hell…it was truly hard to think but yet after her talk with that man last night she now truly started to think such thoughts, thoughts she hasn't thought about since that day all those years ago with the minefield she should have died in.

Putting on her helmet she turns on her helmet's built in phone feature before finally someone picks up “Miss Militia to Console, made contact with the Burned Man, returning to base with my report and assessment.” Before racing off towards the city.

Whether she or anyone truly knew it or not, was that a great change was coming to the city.

But will it be a change of peace? Or change of war?

Did she just see the start of a good man going to war?

None truly know, for that.

Is a story for another day.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay.

A city much like any other, yet when I walk the streets and look at the people I can see they are tired, they are hurting, and most of all they are scared.

Fear is a normal feeling one can have, lord knows I have felt fear yet it was being one with the lord that helped me resolve this fear that I will face upon my path.

I stood before a ruined building, up on the edge of a city. The door boarded up. Walking to the door, my fingers gripped the board and I pulled, opening the doors once more to what will become a home for a time, and a house to the Lord. Walking inside, the carpet was stained with watermarks, the benches were a mixed blessing, some intact, some still in rows, most were moved around and a few were broken entirely.

The Altar at the front of the church needed some care. I lifted the crucifix so it stood up once more. Glancing on the ground, candle holders laid there setting it upon the altar. There was much that needed to be done in here, but that was not something that bothered me. I began to do my work, cleaning up what I could, with no electricity or running water, it would have to be what I could do by hand.

Slowly the day rolled on, and an area was cleared of benches, removing screws from the floor and laying out the sleeping bag, and set my rucksack down. I stood by the doorway, looking out at the city that I had been called to. With a simple search of my bag, I grabbed what I needed, a wallet that held money I was given by good samaritans, and I carried the tools of my defense.

Upon leaving the house of God I began my search for a hardware store to buy tools to restore the church to its glory. Yet upon going into the city proper I could not help but feel pity for the people as unlike back west where many were cautious they at least were understanding once I communicated with them.

Yet here I am treated as if I am a leper who is to be avoided or they would catch the unseen leprosy. I understand this fear, I truly do for as one woman once explained to me in Kansas, I looked like a 'walking mummy', an apt description of my being to be sure, but one that sadly will make my mission here harder to complete.

Many kept their distance as I stopped and just looked around, truly absorbing the city and its people, before a familiar voice called out to me, "You know I would have given you a ride into town if ya had woken me up." Turning around, I spotted Hannah wearing a pair of blue jeans and a simple button shirt leaning on the side of a pickup truck with her arms crossed, sporting a soft smile.

"I did not wish to disturb your sleep, and while the offer was kind, I wished to walk the rest of my journey." Hannah shrugs her shoulders as if to be dismissive, but the smile she wears says she is not as she lifts herself off the side of the truck. "Fair enough, though I gotta ask what you're looking for and if you need help."

"I hope to rebuild what has been left behind and neglected. I plan to make it a shelter for those who need it, and a sanctuary for those who ask for it. However, I also plan to find somewhere to eat. Faith fuels the soul, but the body needs more than just faith to keep moving." I explained which earned an honest chuckle from Hannah.

"So let me take a guess here, you're rebuilding the old church, you need tools to rebuild the old church, and you'd like to get something to eat either before, during, or after said reconstruction." She broke down what I had said on her fingers with a smile still adorned on her face before she added "Am I missing anything oh wise and deep one?"

I gave a small grin, though it was left unseen, "Wisdom should not be confused with knowledge. It is only common sense for one to work to rebuild a place they can call home. I do not mind the work, the challenges are for me to solve when the time comes. You must have a business that calls you away. I do not wish to take up any more of your time." I apologized as I glanced down the road.

Hannah just waves her hand dismissively "Nah I got some days off of work and nothing to do, so why not help out." She waves her hand "So come on, I'll give ya a ride to a tool store I like to go to." As she walks over to the driver's side of her pickup. "And that is non-negotiable." Her voice was firm but that smile, that kind-hearted smile never left her face.

I could feel the weight on my belt, one it was covered, hidden from sight most of the time. There had been a few who had a kind face, yet evil intentions for him before.

"As kind as the gesture, I will kindly refuse. I hope to use this time to speak with the downtrodden, and those with little hope." I explained, nodding to Hannah who I had met twice in one day.

"Fair, But at least let me get ya the tools you need. Cause no offense, but I think you'll find it difficult to buy them with your...condition." Again her tone was respectful and sadly I could not refute her logic if the looks I continued to see from the people were any indication.

Looking towards her, he could see some sincerity in her eyes. I've had a lot of issues when it comes to entering most places, people saw me with fear, like I was a dangerous cape.

"I will not stop you from doing such." I explained, nodding a bit which she returned with a smile before she drove off leaving me to explore the city once more.

Unbeknownst to the Burned Man, Hannah was on her phone driving through Brockton Bays mid-day traffic "Well I can safely say that he's not here to start anything big. He's planning on rebuilding that old church down on Kosciuszko Street next to Joralemon Ave." She reported towards her phone which hung on its holder that was attached to her truck's dashboard.

"We may need to have him come in, or at least have Panacea go and meet him to see if he is a possible Case 53. Or a potential Parahuman." the phone responded to her.

"Or." A new voice spoke up "We could I don't know, let the guy rebuild a church and do as our friend here says he's doing which is helping the poor and homeless people. It wouldn't hurt to have another soup kitchen."

'Until the Merchants, Empire or ABB hear about it and destroy it again' Hannah thought to herself as she drove on.

— — — — —

Randall Clark, former US Army and nature enthusiast, was homeless in Brockton Bay. Sitting in a little shelter made in the corner of a set of buildings.

When the Behemoth attacked Salt Lake City in 2004, he lost his family. He left that area of the US to get as far away as he could. He ended up here, hoping that his time in the military could have gotten him a job with the PRT, he always heard they were in need of more people. It turned out that wasn't exactly true.

Now here he was, on the street, and looked like-

Randall's train of thought was interrupted as his focus was drawn to a very strange sight, a man covered in bandages, walking down the street. They moved like they were...he didn't have an idea, with a directionless purpose that sounded like the apt analogy.

Getting up and slowly approaching, Randall felt that something important was going to occur, a chance that he would not let pass him up.

"Excuse me." He said, walking after the bandaged man as he walked up, the man stopped and turned to face him.

"I was wondering who exactly are you?" Randall asked.

The man simply placed a hand on his shoulder and looked Randall in the eyes.

"Some call me a man, others a cape, I am called the Burned Man, but what I truly am, is a simple man, finding his way in the world. But you didn't rush to me to know who I am, but rather you saw something greater. I have been told I move with a purpose, some say I'm on a mission from God. I claim neither of these, but I can see why there is hope in seeking me out. Now, before we continue, let us find somewhere to sit." The aptly named 'Burned Man' spoke.

Sitting down on a bench, Randall told his story to the Burned Man, his decision to join the Military even after the PRT formed, how he eventually left, and how eventually, his family was gone due to the Endbringer. The ups and downs of his life. There was no judgment, no criticism, no praise or condemnation from Randall's audience, just...quiet acceptance, nodding, and attentively listening to the story.

"And now, I'm on the streets. I don't know what I should do. I really just...feel lost now." Randall sighed as he looked down to the ground as he finished telling his story.

"I can not tell you where you need to go, but I can offer you a direction in life, for a time. I hope to rebuild a sanctuary that has fallen into disrepair. If you are willing and able to put in long days of hard work with food and shelter as your payment." The Burned Man said towards Randall who looked at him for a moment before it hit him.

"You mean the old Saints Mission don't ya? Heard the place was abandoned due to the fact that no padre wanted to come to this lovely little city on the Bay." Randall explained, sounding shocked, that the old church was run down before he had come to the city.

"While I am no priest, nor am I claiming it in the name of the church, it would be a shame for such a place to be gone when it seems so many here need what it can offer. If you know of those who would be willing, I will do my best to serve them as well." The Burned Man explained

Randall looked at the Burned Man, surprised and shocked. "I will see if I can get some of the more willing and able-bodied people that I know from my fellow veterans, maybe even from the local VFWs." He spoke to the man who sat with him.

"That would be most appreciated. In rebuilding the sanctuary, their lives can be rebuilt. The good Lord will provide to those who try, even if we do not succeed, in our attempt, progress has been made to heal." The Burned man nodded.

Randall chuckles a bit while he gives a curt nod "Believe me, I know all too well my friend, all too well."

The Burned Man stood up and glanced around, then turned to look back at Randall.

"When you can come to fix the house of God up with me, I will welcome you and all who you bring with you. I hope you have a blessed day and please, take this." He held his hand giving a few bills to Randall, before leaving.

Randall looked at his hand which now held twenty-five dollars Looking up he saw the man walk away, Randall now had something he could do. He would get those like him to come to the mission, they would rebuild the old church. It would be a good first step.

— — — — —

Watching from a distance, the mission was observed. As the building remained empty. Moving inside, stepping carefully to leave no sign of their presence, the rucksack was found.

"We found the bag. Beginning search." Slowly the items were withdrawn, and a roll of dirty bandages was taken for DNA sampling. Other artifacts were withdrawn, a Bible, a coin bag, a small cross, random items, a notebook, painkillers, and medicine that can be bought over the counter. Nothing to lead to a real identity. A box of 357 auto magnum caliber shells.

"Notebook pages are photographed, we good to holy shit...look at this." A hatchet was pulled out, the sheathe taken off to show an etching, and on the other side was a verse which was Matthew 3:10 "Huh wonder what it means." The person voiced their curiosity before they placed the hatchet back into its protective sheath which looked to be Native American if the leather and beads were anything to go by.

"Hurry up and take the pics, put everything back as it was." Another the leader ordered softly before putting their fingers to their ears as they barked out "We got five miks to be Oscar Mike people! Move it!" With precision, the group who invaded the dilapidated church left as they came with none being the wiser as the sound of a truck could be heard pulling up towards the church's entrance.

Stepping out of her truck Hannah couldn't help but feel pity as she looked at the vine-covered gates of the old church, the overgrowth of the weeds and grass clearly would need to be cleaned off before they could even consider painting or even repairing the splintering boards.

Looking up at the roof she could tell that sections would need to be repaired as well or outright replaced if the dips in the frame were any indication.

"Maybe having the PRT do this as a PR event would be a good idea." Hannah nodded as she spoke to herself just taking in all the damage that time and nature had done to the church.

"Ah, you have come before me and my friends." Hannah turned towards the source of the burned man's voice and looked slightly surprised at the amount of homeless that were with him "Well yeah, I promised I'd get ya some tools didn't I?" She motions towards the back of her truck.

The lead man seemed to be getting the tools, and passing them out, with a few going inside to look at the mission, to see what needed to be replaced, fixed, and what could stay.

"Thank you Randall for bringing the others to aid me in rebuilding the mission." The burned man nodded, "And thank you, Hannah, for giving us the tools to let us rebuild the mission."

Hannah smiled a bit as she shrugged her shoulders before grabbing a pair of hedge clippers "Well as the old saying goes, God doesn't like a quitter right? So why let this place quit? When it can be rebuilt." She couldn't see it but Hannah swore she could see the man covered head to toe in bandages actually give a smile. 

Chapter Text

The Mission was rebuilt with some speed, once more people found out of course. New Wave did contribute a bit which added more good karma with the community, having Panacea come was an added bonus along with Glory Girl to heal any injured, yet the Burned Man never approached the miracle healer while he worked. Some of the PRT came to watch and even a few volunteered to help with the rebuilding effort which in return gave them good PR with the community.

As another day of the rebuilding came to a close, and those who volunteered were eating, the Burned Man sat on a broken bench that was brought outside near a dumpster. He had repaired it, making the long church bench into a much shorter one due to the fact that the wood of its original form had become rotted and needed to be cut away and reshaped.

Looking out at the smiles, laughter, and just the community coming together he would hear the voice of the first person he met upon coming east “It’s something isn’t it? How a simple thing like rebuilding a church can really bring the best out in people.” Said Hannah as she sat down near The Burned man as she held a foam bowl with a simple plastic spoon “I brought ya some stew, thought you’d might be hungry.”

The Burned man smiled behind his bandages as he gave a curt nod before taking the offered stew as he said towards Hannah in a grateful tone “Thank you, I indeed was starting to become hungry from a long day's work in this humble restoration.” Bringing the bowl to his lap he looked out at the gathering saying aloud “I fully believe that when one truly tries to build something to help the community and ask for nothing in return, then the good hearted of that community shall come together to try and make it happen.”

He motions slightly to the Veterans, both homeless and those from the local VFWs “Those who defended our nation shall not have to worry about weather or not they will have a roof to sleep under, nor the poor or hungry will worry of weather or not they too will sleep in the cold of the night or go hungry.”

Holding the bowl, the Burned Man glanced down and sighed as the sun was starting to get low in the sky now presenting a beautiful golden hue.

“Your city is no stranger to conflict and those who seek it out. I doubt there are those who accept the old laws of the church for those who seek Sanctuary.” Burned Man stated, as he glanced at the sky, before he drank some of the broth from the bowl.

“Typically…we try to respect it, I know personally I would respect it because ya know.” She motions to the building behind them “It's a church.” She lets out a soft chuckle which he returned as well.

“I’ve known that the church has changed its ways on how secrets of the confessional are. If it is a crime where lives were taken, I can have it passed on, but an admission of sin is not a story I will share. A church may be a sanctuary for those who are chased by others, but I will give unto Caesar what he has rendered unto others.” The Burned Man firmly said as he sips more broth from the styrofoam bowl.

As the two sat together on the bench just enjoying the sunset, the night’s darkness slowly taking over the golden glow of the sky, the Burned man didn’t seem bothered by the cold. Hannah debated if she should leave, she was getting a few messages, when she checked them, it was to let her know a few minor crimes were passed along to the PRT. The Empire was apparently busy tonight with 5 crimes reported in the last few hours.

“Well….I think we need to find you a name, other than the title you have been given. I’m sorry, I shifted topics quickly there. I was going to start heading home tonight, I hope I can see you again tomorrow. I can guess you will be busy trying to help people, won’t you?” Hannah spoke, chuckling to herself as she redirected herself on the topic of her conversation.

The Burned Man looked at her and nodded. “I am just keeping a simple vigil for any soul that may find their way to my humble doorstep.” The Burned Man explained, he gave her a gentle nod, “May you travel be safe on a night like tonight.” His voice caring as he stood from the bench walking towards Randell as the two began helping people set up heaters and cots to try and have a peaceful nights sleep in the slowly restored mission as Hannah couldn't help but smile as she herself went to her truck.

A feeling of honest hope welled within her body as she honestly hoped that this man covered head to toe in bandages would succeed in bringing hope to this city without it.

— — — — —

It was a few hours later as Hannah, now in her Miss Militia persona, had arrived onto the Rig. Across from her at the table was Dauntless.

“What’s the feeling you got from the guy? Think he's case 53? A cape? Or a guy with a messiah complex?” Dauntless asked, he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, already having cleared Miss Militia of any Mastering influence.

“I don’t think it’s any of them honestly. He doesn’t seem to have any power, 2 days without any sign of overt power use, it’s either a subtle one, or he’s one lucky guy who survived a possible trigger event without coming out like us.” Miss Militia shrugged, there wasn’t any sign of powers being used in her own opinion.

Assault decided to add in his two cents “So we have ourselves a Kentucky fried Mormon who is just here to spread the word of god and help the homeless and poor.” He quickly claps his hands as he raises them to the air “CASE CLOSED!” Only to get knocked up the head by his wife for his terrible joke.

“There is amnesia, and if he did have a tattoo it would be burned away. He did explain that he saw something that he didn’t deem natural. I doubt any of you could describe what you saw when you triggered…but I didn’t see a flame. I saw…space…and something I don’t have words for. He saw a fire, and it spoke to him.” Hannah explained.

“Another member of the strange vision club, your little friend group is growing.” Battery said as a light hearted tease.

Everyone was ‘aware’ of the story Hannah told, or parts of it, but no one could share that experience really, it was all hazy and messy. Until Carlos spoke up “Or it could be like what was described in Exodus three.”

Everyone looked at him as Assault asked “Exodus three?”

Carlos looked at everyone as if they were truly clueless “Exodus three? You know, when God spoke to Moses from a burning bush? Did none of you go to Sunday school?”

“Kurdish.” Miss Militia spoke up.

“Sunday church was called football at my house.” Assault jokes.

“Parents didn’t care about church, science over faith kind of family.” Battery raised her hand.

“I didn’t go to church, that was usually a chore day at our house.” Dauntless stated.

“This guy was basically dead, let’s face it.” Carlos then pointed to Hannah “Militia, you said his skin was basically cracked patches of scar tissue, right?”

Hannah nodded because if she wasn’t used to some more horrific sights, thanks to Lung, she’d have lost her stomach at the sight of the man’s arm unwrapped.

“Ok, well, if he’s still like that then he’d basically be dead when he was…burned. People see weird things when they are like that. If he was a religious man, seeing a flame that spoke to him may have been a near death vision his mind made up…or maybe god is real and just decided to check his messages this one time and sent a quick text to him.” Carlos explained in a way everyone could understand.

“Soooo your saying, and I'm not doubting ya here, that our preacher man died. Saw God. Got put on a mission from God to come to our little city to what exactly? Help the poor, the hungry, and our huddled masses?” Assault asked while also quoting the statue of liberty at the sametime.

“Who knows. Why does Longinus work for the Catholic Church? Some people find their way with God.” Carlos says as he leans back in his chair “Because no matter how much people want to try and rationalise things, Dios works in mysterious ways.”

“Sounding like one of those more religious crazy capes there, Aegis.” Dauntless pointed out.

“No, this is just a case where religion and parahumans crossover. I feel bad for Dean. Probably next week he will get an ear full from Vicky about how this guy is likely to draw Haven’s attention and we see them try and recruit him. Probably name him ‘Penance’ or something like that.” Carlos or better known as Aegis shook his head while waving a hand in a dismissive motion, Haven was a group he was familiar with, but not a fan of.

During this whole Meeting Piggot finally spoke up “Powers or no powers, this man will bring a shift into the city for good or bad. We will have to keep an extra watchful eye on him going forward. Incase either the Empire or ABB try to recruit him.” Her concern was warranted until of all people her deputy Director spoke up.

Renick leaned forward slightly as he clears his throat “With all due respect Emily but they would be fools to even consider doing such an action.”

Piggot, as well as everyone else present, looked towards the Deputy Director as Assault asked “And why is that?”

Empire 88 Meeting Room
Around the same time.

“THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS A CAPE STRIKE TEAM!?” Shouted Brad aka Hookwolf.

“I mean, the last group that so publicly struck a church as a form of sending a message, the Vatican sent the Papal Guard after the perpetrators and eliminated each member with no hesitation. They split the water when they tried to flee on a boat and then had a column block their path.” Krieg explained with a serious tone of voice and no German accent present.

“So what? They pulled a Moses and drowned them?” Hookwolf questioned.

“No, they captured them, and met with the Inquisitor, the spaniard.” Krieg continued.

“I didn’t expect that name.” Alabaster stated.

The doors burst open and 3 figures walked in.

“Now, I heard we have a new interesting individual in town, New Wave was at the old Mission. Victor. I take it you have looked into who this person is?” Kaiser questioned, arms behind his back as he strode forward, flanked on both sides by the Valkyries.

“Well, that’s the thing. He’s unknown. No name, no face, a record that only is tied to him in bandages. He hitch hiked his way here from Utah. The PRT isn’t even sure he is a cape from what our moles have discovered. He’s making a shelter out of the old Mission.” Victor explained, watching as Kaiser slowly walked to the end of the table and took his seat.

“It was becoming unsightly in its disrepaired state. I take it we plan to have our public face make some gesture of charity and aid in rebuilding what can not be done by hand tools and experience?” Kaiser stated what he wanted to happen, but phrased it like a question.

“We are, sir.” Victor nodded to the command.

“So, we're going to try and recruit him?” came from Crusader.

“I am interested to see if regeneration would work on healing him, or if this would simply just leave him a walking scar.” Othala theorized.

“Personally I am against it. Churches are neutral for a reason.” Krieg spoke firmly as he added “And with all due respect you all do well to respect the neutrality of the church because believe me, I’d rather have the feds busting down our door than the inquisition.”

“The unwritten rules are to be respected, after all, only someone crazy, or foolish would knowling break them. The PRT and similar agencies can be worked around, but if the Empire desires to cultivate our desire for the correct values of American Society we desire, attacking a church directly will do more harm than good.” Kaiser agreed with Krieg.

Kaiser and the Empire mostly respected the Unwritten rules, but that was for capes only. That didn’t stop their soldiers from harassing stores and other religious institutions that went against the values the Empire stood for.

However he didn’t dismiss Kriegs concerns as well considering how much more influential the catholic church had become thanks to the advent of powers bolstering the Swiss Guard with the Papal Guard which was similar in nature to the PRT, in nature only.

“The church can stand, but if we can sway the Burned Man to our side, we can add some legitimacy to those of the faith to our cause. Just as Haven is a stable to those of faith in the states, we can make our Burned Samaritan a beacon to those of faith in the city, away from the filthy merchants and show that we are the right people for the city with our ever so humble hands to aid those in their times of need.” Kaiser explained.

“Then who’s going to see the scab?” Hookwolf asked, arms crossed as he looked at Kaiser.

“There is no harm in having my trusted lieutenants figuring that out between each other.” Kaiser stated, so Hookwolf and Krieg glanced at each other, a conversation for after the meeting then.

The Next Morning
Pelham Household

“Look, I'm not saying I don’t find him interesting but I dont get how you girls can think I might be attracted to him.” Hannah spoke from her side of the round table as Jane, Carol and Sarah, the members of New Wave just stared at Hannah with raised eyebrows.

“There must be some air of mystery to him that makes him excited for you to volunteer to be the one who made contact with. Were you hoping to unwrap those bandages and find a nice man under them?” Sarah teased.

Hannah blushed a bit as she hisses “It's not like that! I just find him interesting and his voice soothing, and the way his eyes look so…” She trailed off as she saw the grins of her friends and co-workers looking at her.

“Oh you're down bad for him girl.” Jane chuckles a bit as she drinks some wine.

“It’s not like that you desperate housewife type-cast.” Hannah glared at Jane.

“We’re only teasing. It’s good you can find things you like about him.” Sarah smiled, as she sipped a bit of wine.

The group smiled, the book club being well and truly skipped over, “But seriously girl, a man looking like a mummy should not have that deep and smooth of a sounding voice.” Sarah said after she tops off her wine glass from the box, “It should sound like a cat being dragged through gravel, or those old smokers who had like a pack a day for 30 years.”

Carol nods “I know right. I'm almost jealous of you, Hannah, getting to work so close to him.” Carol playfully shoulder bumps Hannah.

Hannah just groaned “Come on Jane, back me up here will ya?”

Jane just sips her wine side eyes at her co-worker as she shrugs “I don't know. You're the one to meet him first, you’re the one to talk with him, even sit with him watching the sunset.” She trails off with a small cat-like smirk playing on her lips.

“Hannah, we know you get busy with the Wards stuff, and this is a mission, but you should consider treating this as a break with pay. This guy is doing something good, what’s the worst that could come from you indulging yourself? Getting a little romantic.” Sarah smiled towards Hannah who just looked unsure.

“I don’t know, I mean…if there is a spark maybe.” Hannah rubs a finger around the lip of her wine glass.

Sarah however just groans “Oh my gawd girl! You need to just unwind yourself! You’re so high strung!”

Hannah sighed, “Look, I’m the only one that isn’t married here. I still have issues with… connecting with people, because, you know.” Hannah shrugged, setting down the glass of wine and standing up.

“I think I should head out. I have to go on patrol with Dauntless.” Hannah explained, she barely took a few sips of the box wine.

Jane, Sarah and Carol watched Hannah leave, “So, she’s struggling with emotions, or she may be mastered in a way that slips by M/S tests.” Jane pointed out.

“Yeah, the Burned Man never approached Amy to be healed. I found it strange, concerning. But that could be for religious reasons.” Carol noted, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked down at the wine.

“The PRT was hoping that Panacea could answer the question of if he is a Parahuman, if something happens, it’s going to be the Police Department that deals with him.” Sarah decided to add her two cents in.

Jane nods in agreement before she leans back “But I do worry about something, a good chunk of the homeless coming to the mission are veterans…I feel sorry for the idiots who think they can try and attack that place and not get a bullet in the ass for their troubles.”

— — — — —

Approaching the room, the ABB gangster nervously approached, bowing, looking at the floor.

“Great Lung, the PRT have taken interest in a newcomer into the city. A man marked by flames now has set up in an old run down church south of our territory.” The gangster informed Lung.

The Master of the Docks who was uncontested by anyone as Lung and the ABB glanced towards the low level gangster.

“Why should I care?” He growled.

“He is gaining supporters. They may fight against us. Try and steal from you my lord.” the quivering man stated.

Lung growled as he waved his arm, “Leave. I will consider this. I will think.” He stated.

The low level gangster got up and walked away, fearfully and desiring to not be killed for showing disrespect to the Dragon of the Docks.

The door shut and Lung let out an annoyed huff of air. So many people feared him. The captains of the ABB rarely knew him, he kept himself distant from them, any weakness he showed was one that may be exploited by them to usurp his power and authority.

Lung had built much of his empire from his networks for drugs, to his prostitution rings, to his black markets, and finally the expansion of his territory, all in order to let it be known he was not a weakling, he would not back down.

He had fought the team of heroes in the city back on his own. He fought the Empire’s capes and had nearly killed them on multiple occasions for daring to threaten him. Lung would not bother with those who didn’t bother him.

Oni Lee patrolled the territory, if a threat was found, he called it in, or dealt with it himself. Perhaps Lung would have someone watch the mission.

Yet what most believe is that Lung is in fact a simple man who did not think and only used brute strength to solve all of his problems, this was true for when problems required strength. Yet when it came to this problem he would have to tread carefully so as not to anger parties who were able to bring more power than the local PRT.

Yes Lung may understand little of western religion when compared to his beliefs of the East, but Lung knows the cost of angering those religious foundations of the west and the cost of blood it will bring to his doorstep. Few who believed themselves untouchable were brought to heel by those seeking a vengeance against those who harmed their faith.

Lung doubted they would care, a small mission in a city ruled by crime lords more than those who enforced the law would be forgotten, and called an unfortunate victim. Yet…yet for some reason a small part of his mind can not help but be wary of the consequences should those of the religious institution’s ire take offence to something happening to the mission if it became well known.

Leaning back in his chair he slowly started to stroke his chin in deep contemplation of what to do with this new comer who was gathering strength.

Chapter Text

Vatican City

Papal States

Within a secure room deep within the Vatican, individuals gathered around a round table, many of them looking at photos of what many have come to call the Burned Man. 

The first to break the silence was a man’s voice who had a native Italian accent “As many of you can see the Holy Alliance has brought this person to the attention of the Corpo della Gendarmeria dello Stato della Città del Vaticano as another possible threat to his Holiness, yet when they began to investigate him via our contacts within the dell'intelligence americana many actions conducted by this person was then pushed up to the Cardinals who upon their discretion brought it to the attention of his Holiness.” This person was silent before finally adding “Who has now dictated us, his holy warriors of the papal guard, to investigate this man and decide truly who he is and if he is worthy to be inducted into our ranks as the first Americano.”  

The five other individuals looked at the photos before a woman with a Ukrainian accent spoke first “If what I am reading is correct then this person…this ‘burned man’ did all of these feats with no blessed powers from our lord. O, khlopche ” Shaking her head slightly “Either he has been blessed by nash pan or is truly a lucky lyudyna bozha.” 

“Si, I agree that what he has done in the name of our lord is indeed worthy of our gaze, but does he truly warrant the possibility of becoming a member of our holy order? Truly Amigos?” Spoke a man wearing deep red robes with his hands adorned in deep crimson gloves which were interlocked together under his well-trimmed pointed beard. 

Another woman dressed in traditional Nun attire spoke next as her French Accent was heard clear as day “Oui , I believe we should offer him a seat at our table , if not then our support for it is clear he is indeed a man of faith seeking to do as our lord did when he walked the earth.” She motioned to the photos of the man helping the many churches he visited with their charity work “be it from soup kitchens, clothing drives, even defending the faithful from the sinners. It is clear he is defending the lambs from the sinful wolves who would dare attack sacred grounds.” 

Another man leaned forward “Igen, I agree with our Nővér Superior, even if ze man is not worthy nuff for our holy order then surely he is worthy of our support, nem?” His Hungarian accent was thick as was the hint of wine upon his breath.  

“Yee been sneakin’ into the holy wine again haven't ye ya moppet!” Spoke a woman with fiery red hair as her Irish accent was clear as day as she shouted at the man next to her before turning her gaze to the rest present at the round table “Now I'm not gonna say that we should offer the lad a seat at our table, but I'm also not sayin we shouldn’t also give our support. So until such time I vote, we don’t offer a seat but I do vote we at least give the lad support aye ?” 

“Before the offer of his candidacy can be discussed , should we not test him, bear witness to his action. Each of us has abided by the law of the church, but we mustn’t become complacent in devotion truly following in our teachings, and not false prophets or idols. The Americans have far too many who speak the scriptures in false honesty.” Spoke the Italian at the head of the table. 

Many of the heads looked around at each other before finally, the French woman spoke up “I believe I am suited for this role, Father. After all, it is not my first time in the Americas.” 

The Spanish man spoke up next “Si, I agree with the Superior but I also volunteered to go with her to offer some protection and help with her investigation.” 

The Hungarian nods in agreement “I agree, the city which this person is in is a godless sinful place. I also volunteer to go as well.”

The man at the head of the table raised his hand slightly “No , while I agree that the city is indeed a den of sin it will not do good for more than two to go and conduct their investigation. Only two shall go and if there is indeed trouble then they will call for help.”  

“Upon the retrieval of this man, I will have him brought under the judgment of the holy Oratrice Mecanique D’Analyse Cardinale.” Mother Superior stated as she stood up from her seat.

The group nodded , as Mother Superior and the Spaniard left the chambers , the remaining members gave long glances , “This is going to be a most fruitful mission of faith if this man is one who is in line with our goals, and is willing to come to the Holy See.” Longinus shrugged as noted the departure of the two members.

“They are most suited for the trip to the American City.” Confessor nodded, “However, how they will find this man, will be a more difficult answer to find. The man rarely stays in one place for very long.”

— — — — —

The Burned Man knelt before the crucifix, it was a ritual to him, but not all had to when they found refuge in the mission. The prayer was silent, he hoped to find some direction to the past that he once knew, to learn of who he once was. The identity that he once had held little meaning to him now, but…it was a soul that needed to be put to rest…even if it was a purely symbolic gesture.

“Lord, you have guided me this far , I only ask that you lead me down the path to let an aimless soul be put to rest a final time and join you in your kingdom.” The Burned man quietly uttered under his breath, slowly separating his hands and raising his head.

Standing and turning to see those inside the mission, several men and women slept on benches, others on the ground with sleeping bags and bed rolls. Moving through the crowd slowly, he found the area outside of the door a peacefully calm spot. 

Rolling up his pant leg, removing the boot he wore, and gathering a set of fresh bandages, he unwound his leg. As the bandages came off, and the burned flesh was exposed to the fresh air, there was a bit of burning, as if the fire still rolled over his flesh. The pain slowly grew as more of the bandages came off, the slow motion of his hands peeled away the dirty bandages. The bandages came off and his breath shuddered as he finished the removal of the bandages on his foot.

He carefully poured water from a bottle over his leg, softly and carefully sponging the water off his leg as he patted his leg down with a towel. A daily ritual that he conducted in isolation would be more difficult now. 

The New bandages were applied, carefully circling and climbing his foot to his ankle, before it wrapped around his calf, and up to his knee. As he pulled the bandages tight with each revolution around his leg, he internally winced, before finally coming to the end and securing the bandage. 

The City of Brockton Bay was one that had a great healer, the girl known as Panacea , she could heal him physically, but that would not match the damage that came to his spirit. He didn’t desire her help, she looked as if she was being drained of faith, both in herself and in the Lord.

He did pity the poor girl for the work she does, after all, it is Corinthians 6:19-20 that teaches us to take care of our bodies for they are temples to God yet it is clear that the poor girl doesn’t see her own body as such and will continue to push herself until such a time either she joins our lord via working herself to death or has a mental break down from overworking herself.

Slowly standing up, he walked to the gate of the Mission. Stepping outside, he glanced down at the sides of the road and began to walk. Perhaps he could walk to the waters of the Bay, have a chance, and watch as the sun rises, perhaps he could ask for donations from those nearby, a small offering of good faith from the people of this city. 

He noted Randall was awake, walking on the perimeter of the Mission. He carried a club that he wrapped around an end, and used as a club. 

“Randall. Can I trust you to lead the people in finishing the rebuilding of the Mission?” The Burned man questioned.

“Yeah…Is there anything I should know? Anything specific to be built?”

“A roof over the heads, the windows are covered, and nothing falling in the night.” There were 3 simple instructions left for Randall.

Randall stiffened, bringing his heels together, and began to raise his arm, but was stopped as The Burned Man caught the arm before he could salute.

“We are safe, my friend , you are no longer bound by man , you are in God’s hand.” The Burned man slowly lowered Randall’s arm to his side, before sliding his hand up the arm, to the shoulder. “If you desire to speak with someone, when I am here, I will listen.” 

Randall just nodded…”The city is dangerou s…I just wanted everyone to be saf e…I couldn’t sleep, knowin g…s omebody could attack.” 

“I thank you, my friend. Now you may find peace, go inside, and rest.” The Burned man calmly led Randall to the door of the mission.

“And when he goes to heaven, to St Peter he will tell. Another Marine reported. Sir, I’ve spent my time in Hell.” Randall poetically mumbled as he passed through the doors and walked inside.

The Burned Man turned back and began to walk. With the passing hours, he reached the coast for the city and found that the bay was lined with a long Boardwalk that stretched from near the docks, to the busy downtown area. Out in the opening of the Bay, he noted the shimmering form of an Oil Rig that seemed to have a rainbow-like glow as the sun rose behind it.

He sat down on a bench, resting just for a minute, having his eyes shut, letting the sounds of the rolling tide and the scent of the salty air relax his senses. The people who were out this early gave him side-long glances, worried at the strange appearance in a city where strange outfits usually meant they were powered individuals, and that brought trouble. Some people however took photos of him on the bench.

Slowly approaching him, he felt a gentle tug at his leg. Opening his eyes slowly, he saw a girl, small, with messy dark brown hair.

“Are you a cape?” she so innocently asked.

“I am but a simple man, one who has found redemption in the Lord, and the strength to persevere with his love.” The burned man nodded, looking at the girl.

She simply walked away, to see a young man worriedly pulling the girl away from him, a phone in hand which already told the Burned man all he needed to know. No matter where he went there will always be those for whom fear what they do not understand.

So instead of moving, he did what he always did which was wait for those who always were called on him to explain himself and hope that they would allow him to go about his day in peace. As he waited, the arrival of one of the Wards, wearing a rust red colored suit with a shield on his chest.

“Huh, so you are real and here.” He said, landing softly at the edge of the crowd.

“I am real. I am not a cape. I refuse to be tested . And n o…I am not what is dubbed case 53. I am just a man who has amnesia.” The Burned man answered the normal questions Capes usually had for him.

“I wasn’t going to ask. The PRT just got a few calls about you , they asked for someone to check it out. Heard a few rumors of you out near the old Mission.” The red costumed cape explained.

“I have. There were a few of your people who came out to observe and some assisted for a short time.” The Burned man explained as he looked at the young hero, slowly standing up.

“Names Aegis. So why are you out here on the Boardwalk?” Aegis asked.

“I was hoping to ask for some donations for the Mission Effort. Currently, we have only gathered what we need from those Good Samaritans who have money and time to spare. I hope to find more who can spare some money, clothes, or even food for a good cause.” The Burned man explained his hopes for this long trek across the city.

“Well, I’m not going to stop you, but I think I can introduce you to someone who may be able to help, at least get some clothes for some of your people.” Aegis suggested.

— — — — —

Parian was in her little shop, having the power to sew a dress for a girl who was supposed to model for a local fashion show. She was lucky , she found this place near the Boardwalk and Lord Street so she got a nice bit of foot traffic that kept her open and supplied. 

She walked to the front of the store, seeing a few people looking at some of her custom-made shirts, coats, and other articles of clothing. She then noted, standing in the window, was a new cape. She was at least familiar with the signs of a cape, and strange outfits, some had come to her, new Wave, a few Wards, the Protectorate wanted her as a part of their design department.  She looked into some ‘horror stories’ shared by former interns of the design and image department of the PRT, she didn’t think that dealing with that was worth the pay, or the exclusivity.

As the new cape slowly walked to the door, Aegis quickly landed behind him and they stepped inside.

“Welcome to my little shop, the Doll House. I’m Parian , how may I help you?” She asked, looking more at Aegis for an idea of what this person could want.

“Would you happen to have a moment to speak-” Aegis began, before Parian raised her index finger, stopping him.

“I expect better of this from you Aegis .” Parian told him.

“I was hoping to ask if you could at all possibly spare cloth for those of the Mission that is being rebuilt .” The bandaged man explained.

Parian looked him over , she had quite a bit of scrap cloth that she couldn’t use.

“Look, I can provide the scraps, but, it will just be the scraps.” Parian stated.

“That is all we ask. We will mostly use it to patch up clothes and as rags for cleaning.” The bandaged man explained.

Parian nodded, behind her mask, she looked the man over, everything was so rough looking man. She noted a shoulder was rough, tearing in a few spots. 

“Here, let me patch up your shirt,” Parian noted as she saw the bandages wrapped around his hands, arms, face…neck…just how much of this man’s body was burned ?

She had a patch of white cloth float over with some thread and a few needles. The needles held up the cloth around the shoulder before the patch floated over and started to weave through the cloth and patch. Parian noted it was a black thread. The patch covered the ripped shirt sleeve, leaving a set of black circles on his sleeve.

“I thank you.” the man bowed his head, reaching into his pocket, and withdrew a few dollar coins, setting them on the counter.

“You’re welcome…Do you want me to get the scraps now, or can it wait till after I close up?” Parian asked, sitting down on a stool and looking at the pair.

“It is as you see fit. I ask only for your charity of your choosing, not because we asked.” The man explained.

“It’s for a good cause,” Parian smiled behind her mask.

The pair stepped outside , leaving the shop.

— — — — —

Aegis and the Burned man walked the street , the burned man walked next to the cape.

“So, they say you are quite a religious man. Do you think that Scion is the next coming of Jesus o r…w hat’s jus t…h ow do you see the world with powers?” Aegis asked.

“The way that I see the world doesn’t matter. The Lord has acted in strange ways. The Golden man may be a scion of a coming age, but he is not the Son of God. For those who have been granted gifts in the time of their greatest struggles, I can only feel sorrow for what they have experienced.” The Burned man explained, walking alongside the red-costumed hero.

“It just…back in the day, my parents heard and saw the reports of the golden hero. They said that was when the church they went to had more people than they ever saw in it. Praying, jus t…p eople thought he was go d…o r the sign of god’s return and they tried to make up for what they lacked.” Aegis shared the story he was told .

“When confronted with what can be seen as the divine, people will either flock to God with no true faith in their hearts, just fear and worry, or they will reject the claim, in the hopes that their rejection will banish it. I was lost and the only faith that guided me forward was that of God. 

Whatever created who I am now, it was the flame inside of me that burned brighter than those around me. I like to believe it was God’s love that let me survive the ordeal.” The Burned man gently rested his hand over his heart.

“That’s an interesting way to see it.” Aegis simply nodded at the idea , he had a feeling that this would be written down in a report and he would be interrogated for whatever information he could learn or imply to have learned.

“You know, Brockton Bay has a lot of people who could use your help…and not in the way the PRT can , they just need some place to feel safe. I sometimes get annoyed that we can’t do more, bu t…I guess it’s good that someone is doing what we haven’t been able to do.” Aegis explained, then stopped , the Burned man continued to walk ahead.

“Can I ask you something? What are you? And I don’t mean like, are you a parahuman or what branch of Christianity do you follow? I want to know what you see yourself as?”

The Burned man slowly turned, just enough for him to give a leisurely side-long glance at the hero.

“What I am is a man. Nothing more. Nothing less. Let that be an answer to satisfy your curiosity for now.”

Chapter Text

The  Mission  was a simple structure that once sat empty and lifeless, now bustled with those who refound community or built up their own. To the surprise of the Burned Man, and others, Brockton Bay had a problem with children who fled, it ranged from families to gangs, but there were quite a few children who found their way to the grounds of the  Mission . 

Randall found himself becoming their  ' fathe r';  he was teaching them to paint wood carvings to the older kids, and some crafts to the younger kids. 

"N ever cut towards you, always cut away. Slowly. "  He shared with a group of boys as they chipped away at the wooden pieces of wood in their hands. 

He wanted to teach them to carve the wood, right now there was no real idea behind it, some were cutting bits away, others were trying to cut patterns and designs into the wood they were whittling.

The Burned Man was noted as people watched the  mission . Those that wore Green and Red, those that wore Black and Gold, and a few that were the soldier type, as the few veterans that stood watch down the road reported in. 

It seemed that the criminal gangs of the city had now taken an interest in the  Mission  itself which did bring concern to the Burned Man even if he and a few of his people in the  mission  are armed, even with his faith in the Lord, he  didn't  expect their victory in a future fight to be without very much bloodshed. 

As the day drew on, the Burned Man sat at the bench outside of the  mission , keeping a vigilant watch for those who might threaten. Slowly, approaching him from a van, a young asian man, walking with purpose either driven by determination or pushed by fear the Burned Man could not tell.

"L ung will come and meet with you this night. He expects that you will pay tribute. "  The young asian boy spat out, a threat woven into the message that was delivered.

A foolish belief in superiority it seems was what drove this boy forward. 

Slowly rising to his feet, the Burned Man looked down at the young man. 

"D eliver this to your master. I do not bear arms against those who have yet to give me reason. But the Lord will protect those who enter these Halls. No tribute shall be offered to a man who can not meet the eyes of those he seeks to rule. "  The Burned  Man's  voice became harsher, almost a growl as he spoke his hand resting lightly on the holster which housed the weapon which had dispatched many a wicked man in his journeys to this city.

The young man slowly started to wither under the looming and intimidating presence  that was  the man covered in bandages, with  a set of  eyes that felt as cold as those  that  Lung  had .  The gang member turned and ran away, going back to the van and driving away. 

The Burned man would return to his station, watching, resting, being an ear to those who needed someone to listen to them , and when  asked, he  gave  advice to those who sought him out for his perspective.  As the sun began to set, a truck approached the  Mission  stopping just at the gates.  3  men got out ,  they had no clear signs of gang affiliation except that they glared at the  mission .

"W ell, looks like the rumors are true. There is a mummy who fixed up a church. "  One started, looking over at the  mission , opening his jacket to show off a pistol on his belt, and a knife on the other side.

"Y ou  wouldn't  mind us going inside.  We're  looking for a…friend you see, want to make sure that they are alright. "  the second one asked, smirking and gesturing towards the  mission's  door, his sleeve slid up, and the partial diamonds of the 88 could be seen on his forearm.

"T hat more depends. Do you come here with intentions of peace? Or do you hope to see if this can become a place of war for your false kingdom? "  The burned man asked, rising from the bench moving into the middle of the gate blocking the way for the 3 men. All while his right hand rested on the leather holster as he watched the three men like a hawk. 

People inside the  mission's  grounds moved towards the main door, guiding children inside. Additionally, a few people held the tools, hammers, screw drivers, drills, some held boards, knives, and a few other weapons they improvised.

"N ow, now, surely we are of similar minds. We both have a respect for God and want to see the values that make for the correct society. "  the last man suggested.

The Burned Man shook his head.

"W hat you are, and what I am are as similar to those Pharisees who allowed the changing of coin and the sale of goods on sacred ground. Our Lord Christ drove them out with words of anger, I will ask you to leave, and to never return here. "  The Burned man gave an ultimatum to the 3.

The 3 thugs sneered, looking at the Burned Man, then glancing back at the group of people who were ready to fight as well.

"T he Empire will not take well to this well. We run this town. We will tear this place down and beat race traitors we find inside. "  the thug threatened.

The burned man sighed.

"T here are many reasons that it is a bad idea. I will illuminate 3 of them. "  The burned man uncrossed his arms.

"F irst, just because this is a mission and those inside sought this place out for shelter, does not mean those inside will allow you to do so without resistance ."

"S econd. If you harm anyone who comes here for shelter, I will find you. Make no mistake. God willing, you will not leave this city alive ."

"L astly, waging war on good people is bad for the soul. This may not seem important to you now, but it is the most important thing  I've  said. "  The burned man listed off. The 3 stepped back as the Burned Man slowly stepped forward, and he drew his pistol, brandishing it. He drew it with the first, turned off the safety with the second, and chambered a round with the third.

As members of the Empire were backed up against their truck, before the Burned Man turned away walking back to the  mission  as he slowly and with fluid motion slid the pistol back into the holster.

The  Empire's  thugs got into the truck and drove away. Sitting down, the Burned man suspected that he would not be done defending the  mission  with the setting of the sun.

— — — — — 

Lung saw the  mission . It was the base of one who refused to bow to any gang, and to those who stood against him. He wore a suit, covering his distinct tattoos. He wanted to know the measure of the man who would act in such a strange way. The man he sent to meet told him that the man covered in scars had eyes of one who knew death. Now, he was not Lung, but Kenta, one of the chief enforcers of  Lung's  will.

Lung walked down the street, Few people drove at night in the city, gangs were more active at night, especially the capes. As he walked down, flanked by a few members of his ABB, he noted a few people watching from the sidewalks. One blew a birdcall. They were signalling to be ready. 

'T his has become interesting. '  Lung thought to himself as he continued his march. 

As he reached the end of the road and stopped at his destination, Lung looked at the gate to the  mission . Spotting the mysterious  ' Burned man '  as he was titled, Lung stopped at the gate that separated the entrance into the  Mission  proper.  The Burned Man was just sitting on the steps of the  Mission , reading a bible. 

"D o you come to bring peace, or have you come to declare war? "  The Burned Man asked, as he slowly closed his book, and looked up, meeting  Lung's  gaze, without standing from his place of rest.

"U nlike those of the West and what many may think of me, those I represent have enough honor to respect places of worship. However, I come to see you and whether or not you have such an honor to not turn this into a place for another gang to rival those already established. "  Lung spoke with purpose and truth towards the Burned Man. 

"W hat I built here is not an army to fight, but a community to support. To some, they call to defend is how they support. We accept what people give.  From what I have seen, the group you  stand as a representative of  demands a tax to simply be  unbothered .  Your action will create enemies, both from outside of your domain and within. "  The Burned Man explained.

Lung slowly walked on the path, and   he caught glimpses of people watching from the windows of the  mission  as he got closer to the burned man.

"D o you know how many come to try and face the great Lung? They come, they fight, they fail. So many who believe they are just. So many who believe they should rule. So many who think they are powerful. What makes you different? "  Lung asked curiously.

The Burned man set his bible down and stood up, a head shorter.  Lung's  frame would have cast a shadow onto him if not for a single lamp that illuminated behind the Burned man, his eyes glowing slightly in the dim light that was caught in them.

"I  stand here as a simple man, one who has rejected those who would use me for their gains, for I walk a path only the Lord can see. What is the path that you walk? Is it guided by an unseen hand or one of your choosing? "  The Burned Man prompted. 

Lung paused, having to think on the question. How many of his actions were made by others? During his time in  Daiichi's  gang, he was a follower. In his battle against Leviathan, he fought until his powers realized there was no point. He had been at the whims of others far more than he wished to admit. His battles were always pushed by others, so…was he being led by others more than himself? 

"I  choose my path. I do not need comforts that I can not find for myself. My enemies are crushed by my hand, and I survive because I reject failure as an option. Obstacles will be destroyed if they interfere with the ambitions of the Great Dragon. "  Lung answered.

The Burned Man looked up at Lung, for a moment studying the man.  " Then what brought you here? What does your master see as a threat? "  The Burned man questioned.

Lung did have to think about that just a bit. The  Mission  was a gathering place, yes. It had become the center of a movement. The Burned man himself was likely a parahuman, just by the fact that he was covered in scars. The Empire would likely try and recruit him, if not the Snake. The heroes would attempt to have him join them. It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed in the war for this city. He may not be an enemy yet, but that  didn't  mean he would ever be an ally.

"D o you know the worth of a man? "  Lung questioned, tired of being asked questions with no clear answer. He wanted to know if this burned foreigner could answer what he asked.

"A   man's  value comes not from the world, but their connection to the Lord.  "  The Burned man stated which surprised Lung that this man of the west quotes, if not paraphrased to match his own beliefs, as the Burned man continued by opening the bible he had before  " As the good book and the All Mighty Lord teaches us much. Let me share with you a verse, with only a small change to fit the current company,   " There is neither a human, nor cape, there is neither follower or leader, there is no man or woman, for you are all one in Jesus Chris t" . "  The burned man gave   his rendition of a bible verse.

Lung hummed as he slowly nodded his head before he turned, beginning to leave.  " Consider this advice carefully. Those who face the might of the Dragon do not escape unburned. "  He stops at the edge of the gate as he continues  " Yet I must ask, if we do come to blows then will you survive the  Dragon's  cleansing fire? The Man of Peace or The Man of War? Shinsai ."

The Burned Man stared at Lung for a moment as he answered with deep conviction  " While your fire may burn me once more, do know that the first fire which created me burned just as hot yet I did not die for the fire within burned hotter than the fire around me. "  Lung slowly turned and stared into the eyes of the Burned Man and saw eyes he had seen so rarely. 

Lung nods after both had stared each other down for the longest time as he declared  " I see. Know then that my people shall recognise you for what you are Shinsai, a holy man in western terms. A Neutral and shall treat you as such. " 

The Burned man gave a slight bow towards Lung as he parted with Lung a simple  " Then may God bless you and help you find redemption for the sinful path for which you have been led towards as well as your people. "   

— — — — — 

The Burned Man walked into the  mission , and   before he nearly collapse, leaning against the door. His heart was racing, and   his legs were unable to support him properly now. He could barely breathe. A hand grasped over his heart.

Inside his mind, the Burned man could see something he  didn't  before. A memory from before. Fires all around him, screams that filled the surroundings. He ran through a hall, desperate to find something. A way out? A person? He  didn't  know. What he did know was that outside, a clash occurred that trapped him inside. He could see the docks outside the windows as the fires flickered, rising ever higher.

Others were around him searching as some tried to stop the fires, others huddled for safety. 

Smoke started to fill the halls, blinding, until he stopped, as flames burst out, developing his body as a door was pulled open.

Then he saw it…The small flame in the ruins, the one that called him. offering him salvation.

"A re you alright? "  Someone asked, breaking him out of the vision which caused The Burned  man's  eyes to find one of the children Randall looked after, standing not but a few feet away.

"I …I am fine, just…troubled by a vision or perhaps memories of the past that were reawakened. Go…it is late, you should rest with the others "  The Burned man answered the child.

"W ill…will we have to go? Will the gangs attack? "  the child nervously asked. With shame, the Burned man understood why this child knew more of the  world's  sins than they should at their age. 

Standing up he softly escorted the child back towards the others  " No, for this is the house of God and many who have tried before have failed. " 

Once the child was reunited with the others The Burned man was about to leave before he heard a child from the group ask  " Could you tell us a story? " 

Turning around, the Burned man nods as he finds a chair and slowly sits down as he pulls out his bible as he begins to read to the children  " In the Beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth …"

Nearly an hour later the Burned Man stepped away, seeing Randall slowly carving a club, one that had a horse head design to it.

"R andall. You are making a weapon. "  The Burned man commented on the determination that Randall seemed to have in the carving of his club.

"W ell…I am just worried. If anything happened to those kids…I think all that would be left would be my sorrows. "  Randall nervously chuckled, as he cut more wood away from the club. 

The Burned man looked at the club as he began to think back to his travels  " Be wary, a weapon may be used to defend, or it can mark a declaration of war. "  He softly spoke as he gave the man a pat on the shoulder before he himself headed off towards his room to get some sleep hoping that tomorrow would bring some sort of peace. 

— — — — — 

The next day started with Hannah showing up bright and early at the  Mission  as she helped move some wood planks towards a wall that had some folks from the local VFW helping patch it up so brick and mortar could be placed.  " Hey Hannah! Give us a hand with the roof supplies will ya! Dingbat forgot the roofing tiles again.

"C an do. Make sure the rest are good, we can use the broken tiles for a future project. "  Hannah suggested, seeing one of the younger children running around, laughing. 

"H ahahaha! Silly heroes!  I'm  the mighty Lung! Fear me! "  A child laughed, as they chased after a group of kids.

She smiled, as they ran by her. At least they could pretend, they felt safe if they could laugh and play. Once she was near the truck, she glanced at her phone, seeing a message from Director Piggot which she had under  ' The  Boss'  

'C ut your part in new arrival short problems have increased activity of the Empire in downtown. '  Hannah read and sighed  ' Well there goes my vacation '  She thought sourly and before she could send a reply a Mercedes rolled alongside a pair of Med-Hall marked vans.   

She turned and walked over to see one of the VFW members, who was volunteering to manage everyone,  " I'm  sorry, I have to go, my work is having issues and is calling me back in. "  Hannah explained.

" I t's  ok Hannah,  you've  been helping us a lot. "  the volunteer-manager nodded, before they found another person who could go and pick up the roof tiles. 

Hannah watched as James Fliescher, the   last she remembers was a high-level member within Med-Halls, walked towards the  mission's  gate and was seen talking with one of the volunteers who nods and points him in the direction of the building proper, and with a smile and thank you he proceeds towards the church. 

Hannah  couldn't  help but have a gut feeling about this, but right now she  couldn't  follow that feeling as she left to head back to the ENE HQ.  

James walked towards the large wooden doors and slowly he opened them, the loud creaking of the door hinges echoed through the area of the chapel its pews either repaired or modified to be shorter were made in rows, the windows being repaired or repaired, yet the one area which seem to not need any work was the very back. 

The altar area was rather simple, a few tarps covered the stained glass windows that still had broken fragments. The altar itself was rather simple, most likely deliberate, either due to damage over time, or the preference of the man who led the  mission . The altar was an old wooden table, with a cloth draped over it. On it rested a bible, a pair of candle stands that lacked any candles at the moment. 

Against the back wall, was a larger table made of a darker wood, and it had a wooden carving of the crucifixion of Jesus. The symbol of faith was joined by only 2 other items, a basin of water, and a white cloth. Stepping from the  Pastor's  office, James smiled, spotting the Burned man, the bandages around his head seemed cleaner than the ones on his forearms.

"A h, thank goodness, I was hoping to meet with you. Word around town is that you have made quite a splash, the good Samaritan that came to Sodom and Gomorrah. "  James chuckled at the expense of the city.

The Burned man let out a dry chuckle as he walked towards the altar, laying a hand on the bible which rested on the altar table  " If this city truly was like that, then our lord would have seen it made to salt. "   

"A sk the cities that lost the bid to house the ENE HQ and you would believe it was. "  James finished, as he came to a bench and sat down as he waved his hand slightly  " But enough about the city, I am more interested in what you have started up here. " 

The Burned man nods as he seems to stay at the altar  " I merely did what the Lord guided me to do, for if none would dare help those for whom they feel abandoned then who but a man with no past and only the love of God guiding him to do good can do? "  He chuckles slightly, dryly as he finishes  " After all, we  can't  expect God to do all the work now can we? " 

"A  regular Joshua,  aren't  ye. Guiding those who need direction. Medhall is hoping to provide you with a service, a bit of charity, and goodwill in a city that has so little. If any of your people are hurt, Medhall is willing to provide care to those who come to the clinics. They just have to tell us that they are working with you. Medhall will gladly help those in need when we can. "  James took out a simple flyer and handed it to the Burned man from his coat pocket.

He took it and began reading its contents to which he nodded in thanks.  " Thank you, many who come are indeed sick but many more are those of youth for whom we may not be able to help should they fall to illness. " 

"T he youth are ever so important to the future. It saddens me to see so many on the street, and I know so many fall through the cracks in our city, so many are lost to the gangs, it hurts my heart. "  James said, shaking his head as he looked down at the ground.

"I ndeed, it is always the young who fall to the allure of sin. It is my hope that what the Lord has me doing will help save many who have been or will go astray from the path. "  Turning back around he knelt towards the altar  " It is why many of my days are spent watching this modest flock, helping with the reconstruction, or keeping vigilance. " 

James walked over, staying a bit back; he had his hands clasped together and his head bowed. A minute of silence continued in the church, broken only by the sounds of repairs, before a muttered just loud enough for James to make out  ' Lead us not to temptation and deliver us from evil .'

"In nomine Patris, et filii, et Spiretus Sancti." James whispered, finishing his silent prayer, as he made the mark of the cross on his body.

"A men. "  The Burned man finished, slowly standing from his kneeling position. 

"N ow. I thank you for the offer. When I can, I will bring the sick that come to this humble sanctuary to your doors. The Lord has allowed much of me, but the miracle of healing the sick is not one ."

"E ven with all of the Miracles that Jesus did, man has never truly replicated one of them. We can only work to match what he had done with the world God created. "  James said, holding a hand out.

The Burned man shook  James's  hand.

Chapter Text

Two weeks have come to pass since the mission restoration began and now with the help of not just the community but also the missions generous new ‘benifactors’ the once dilapidated house of God was restored once more to its glory with new sections built to help house the homeless be they old or young so they may not die on the streets or in the cold embrace of winter.

Looking at those gathered the Burned man or as James from Med-Hal has called him ‘Joshua’, a fitting name for what he has been doing for the destitutes who the city has forgotten, stood with another who he has slowly come to enjoy the company of ever since he arrived in the city. He almost called him Jedidiah, for his wisdom, but that name had fallen to picture the opposite of its original holder.

Hannah smiled as the people cheered as the ribbon was cut to the fully renovated mission “You know, it feels good seeing all our hard work done and being opened to those in need.”

“It always had the potential to help others. It never stopped being a house of God. It was only closed off to those who were lost. Now that it is open, it can once more do its duty, and bring home the lost flocks to our Shepard.” The Burned Man looked up at the restored Mission.

The Burned man walked to the door, slowly opening it. Walking in, the area inside was a bit of a mix, benches filled the front area of the chapel, but there were tables with chairs that filled the back. In a way, it was a little like the old monasteries, in a way. The burned man walked up the Alter, and he set down his bible, unwrapping it from the cloth that he kept it safe in.

“Lord. Have I done good? I came to this city, walking a path only you could show me. Now I am here. Is there more I can do? Am I to be the shepherd, or the bellwether for this flock?” He kept his head bowed, keeping his worries private.

He was The Burned man, a man baptised by flame and by faith. Lost and having found a new identity. But was it truly one he deserved? Was he a good man? Was he doing this out of faith, or was this something the person he once was wanted.

A hand rested on his shoulder. Slowly turning, his gaze was met by Clark.

“The children have something they want to present to you.” He spoke softly, smiling just a bit as they locked eyes.

“Lead the way.” The Burned Man spoke, nodding his head.

“I can only follow in your footsteps.” Randall joked, leading the way to the small garden area, showing roughly carved letters, arranged on sticks planted into the ground, to spell out ‘Our New Eden’.

The Burned Man felt as if he could cry, it was a loving gesture, even if it made him fear. There would be those who saw such a claim as a threat. He could feel the weight of his .357 Coonan on his belt. It was heavier now that he had something to protect.

But looking upon the children for whom they have taken in as well as the other homeless, Joshua could not help but feel that this.

This is why the lord sent him to Brockton Bay.

— — — — —

“Miss Militia. What is your final verdict on the possible Parahuman nature of the Burned Man?” Director Piggot questioned.

The multi week investigation into the nature of the burned man. Miss Militia had direct contact with him often enough, there were a few field agents that kept an eye on him the rest of the time, so they could have a pretty good idea of what he was like.

“From what I can tell, there is no behavioral quirks that he shares with Parahuman individuals. He isn’t attempting to cause issues, in all honesty, he’s trying to avoid conflict, says it’s bad for the soul. He’s displayed no abilities of powers that visually affect him or his surrounding. There doesn’t seem to be any manipulation of people’s thoughts or actions. Without seeing his brain scan, he’s just a guy, who was burned and having a form of amnesia.” Miss Militia gave her opinion.

“Very well. Now unless there is a development that leads us to change this stance on the psychological aspect of his Parahuman status, we will need evidence of a physical and or biological nature.” Piggot nodded.

“There have been interactions with New Wave’s Panacea, however, if she has read his biology, then she has not either noticed an active Gemma, or has declined to make such a report.” Aegis noted.

“He has had a few interactions with New Wave, cordial, mostly initiated in a peaceful manner. The only time he was outrightly hostile was in an incident where a member of ‘his congregation’ who was a member of the Empire attempting to reform and leave the gang life behind, was in a confrontation with a Merchant…pimp, and Glory Girl attacked him, due to the tattoos that could be seen. This led to a short altercation where Glory Girl was grabbed and pulled away. Brandish would have Glory Girl return to the Mission, and apologize for the event.” Dauntless explained.

“That just leaves us with two more points of discussion. The developing gang mentality of the Mission’s residents, and their recent interactions with two of the major gangs in the city.” Armsmaster brought up the next points.

“The situation at the Mission is….concerning. There are a few individuals who have been gathering weapons. While the Burned Man hasn’t told anyone to arm themselves, roughly 30 individuals have begun to openly carry makeshift weapons, including firearms. From what we can tell, there are several military veterans who are now seen regularly near and around the Mission. The Leader of this…Militia seems like a fitting term, seems to be Randall Clark, former Army Ranger, Gulf War veteran. He is also seemingly the second individual of Authority in the Mission.” Strike Team Leader Jacobs reported on, having spent a few days around the Mission, scouting it out.

“It seems that there is a peace between them and the ABB, who patrol the area between the, and their territory. They haven’t been putting pressure on nearby businesses. We believe there may be some sort of neutrality agreement between the two groups. How and why, we do not know.” Battery began the report.

“The Empire seems to be doing the same, however there seems to be a more directed effort. From what we can tell, they selected less overtly racist members to represent themselves to the Mission. Crimes related to the Empire are down in the area.” Assault finished the other part of the report.

“So we have an individual who can easily be confused as a Parahuman, leading a homeless shelter rebuilt from an old Mission, who has a Militia guarding it, but also the Gangs are treating it like its sacred ground. Doesn’t sound concerning at all. Next thing we know, the Inquisition will show up to judge his messaging from the bible and if it’s conforming to the teachings.” Velocity shook his head, in disbelief at the state of things that have occurred since the unexpected arrival of the Burned Man.

— — — — —

The plane landed, it wasn’t your standard charter flight coming into the states.

This particular jet was in fact a private jet owned by the Vatican and only used by those of high rank or in rare cases the pope themselves. The Spaniard wanted to travel more covertly, but the need to arrive with some speed, they took the Private Jet, along with 3 archbishops who would travel across the region to meet with local bishops.

Mother Superior grabbed her Crusafix, shouldering the surprisingly light tinker tech weapon, as they were meeting up with Local Representatives of the Parahuman Authority, to notify them of their arrival.

“I do not want you to speak. I will be the one who explains our holy mission, understand you faiseur de bruit écervelé (scatterbrain noise maker)”. Mother Superior looked down at the slightly shorter man in red robes who was slightly twisting his immaculate mustache.

“Do not worry mi bella dama, I only do such for an act. They see a tonto torpe (bumbling fool), they do not think much.” The Spaniard walked calmly in a slightly rushed stride next to his companion.

As they approached the private gate, they were met by a costumed individual, one wearing plate armor, and a Sallet Helm.

“Hello. You must be with the Papal Guard. Mother Superior and Confessor?” The Hero guessed.

“The Confessor sends his regards, he could not come. He was sent on a different mission. I am El Spaniard Senior.” Giving a small bow, the Spaniard apologized for the mix up.

“No, I am sorry. I am Bastion, leader of the local Protectorate teams here in Boston. We don’t really know much of the Papal Guard. Well, it was a surprise when we were informed through diplomatic channels that two of the members would be coming into the country. What brings you into our country?” the Hero explained.

“We are in need of transportation to the city of Brockton Bay. There is a figure there we are planning to speak to and evaluate.” Mother Superior shared little of the mission they were on, what she deemed the essential notes that were to be shared, if deemed needed then she would share more but as it was she would share no more with those whom while she has great respect for what they do.

Were still uncultured American swine for whom she would insult greatly like a true Frenchwoman were she not a woman of God.

“Well. I can get a helicopter to transport you in from our base to their HQ.” Bastion noted, as he stepped to the door, holding it open for them.

Mother Superior shook her head slightly “Non, no thank you monsieur Bastion. Your offer is very grateful but I am afraid that this person for whom we seek is not a member of the Protectorate but instead is a member of the Lord's flock.” She wanted to sneer at this man, was this in some hope of being chivalrous? It would take more than kind words to move him from vin d'imitation bon marché (cheap imitation wine) to le vin n'est bon qu'à être renversé (A wine only good for spilling) But, she was a woman of God and kept such thoughts to herself.

A van of the Parahuman Response Teams was offered as transport through the city. Bastion climbed in, holding a hand out, Mother Superior climbed in on her own, the Spaniard followed, sitting across from the American hero.

“So, you’re looking into a new cape? Have they offended the church in some way?” Bastion questioned.

“That has yet to be determined.” Mother Superior answered.

“Are they a villain…a rogue?” Bastion prodded.

“Eso aún no se ha determinado.” The Spaniard responded.

“You’re not very forthcoming with answers.” Bastion sighed.

“The nature of our mission is that of faith. As defenders of the faith, we feel it is necessary for us to investigate certain groups and individuals who build their identity around the faith.” The Spaniard explained.

The Spaniard and Mother Superior glanced at each other.

“While we do not expect conflict, we understand that the American customs are less forgiving on the death of criminals.” Mother Superior began.

“The Protectorate and the PRT aim for removal and containment of villains and criminals. Fights occur, injuries are expected, we attempt to avoid lethality unless it is authorized, or fully necessary.” Bastion explained.

“Bueno. I take it your people will inform the group in Brockton Bay of our arrival. We would hope to look over information of the parahuman situation in the city.” The Spaniard requested.

“We will pass along the summary we have. The locals can give more detailed notes.” Bastion nodded.

“With some hope. We will not have to bring the man to be judged by the Oratrice Mécanique D’analyse Cardinale.” Mother Superior muttered to herself.

Bastion paused, looking at the French Tinker dressed as a Nun.

“I’m sorry. The what?”

“El Analizadora de Instrucción Cardenalicia. It is the mechanism of purity and order, along with determining the purity of one who stands before it.” The Spaniard explain, without really sharing what it is.

Bastion was uncertain how to respond. He was no tinker, and he wasn’t really a religious man. These two were capes, and they had their own mission.

‘What is it with europeans and being so damn weird….I wonder if that nun would be willing to try a slit dress, go to event with me?’ Bastion internally questioned himself.
— — — — —

“Come on, It’s good shit! It’s the best you can find at these prices.” A smug man waved a small baggy full of unmarked pills.

“No. I’m not wanting your fucking pills! I’m trying to get better!” a woman pushed the dealer away, trying to run, only for the dealer to grab her wrist and pull her back.

“You fucking Bitch! You think you’re too good for us now? Think some fuckin mummy priest will change the fact you are a Merchant! You are with us for life! You either sling shit, or you put out. Since you don’t sling, you put out!” The dealer tossed the pills away and grabbed at the woman’s clothes.

Screams echoed through the streets. The woman fell to the ground and the Merchant stood over her.

“Where’s your holy man now?” The Merchant spat on the woman. “It’s people like you who drive me crazy.”

The Merchant was grabbed by their hair, pulled and thrown on the other side of the alley. Their body slammed into the wall and crumbled to the ground. Looking up, the dealer searched for the knife they had, ready to stab whoever it was that thought it was a good idea to attack the fuckin’ MERCHANTS!

“The fuck?!”

“Get the fuck out of here. This ain’t Merchant Real Estate. We’re gonna be generous and you can either leave with only that and no money, or we can feed you what few teeth you have left and then take your money.” The attacker spoke towards the downed merchant while a few others helped the woman up.

“Hey it's ok, just stay with us. You're gonna get help.” One who was helping her stand spoke softly yet firmly towards her while the other was looking her over.

“Shit.” The other cursed softly before he turned to his fellow grunt who was standing over the Merchants “This is bad man! We gotta get her some help!”

“There’s a clinic we can take her to a few blocks away. Get the truck.” One ordered, as he handed his jacket over to the woman to act as a security blanket of sorts.

The Merchant dealer ran, knowing that this was his chance to get away without leaving empty handed, or beaten more. The man who threatened the Dealer grabbed a brick and threw it, missing, but it made the threat clear enough.

The group of men helped the woman to the walk-in clinic, before one stepped out, and made a call.

“Sir, we had a run in with a dealer of the Merchants near the Mission. Should we expand the patrols to 5 blocks? Yes sir.” The man nodded as he was given his instructions.

The neutrality of the Mission would be enforced, even if those in the Mission didn’t know the territory was deemed neutral grounds.

While the Merchants were unsuccessful on the Eastside they thought to try the Northside thinking they could get lucky and score some new clients.

Only for the same to repeat again only this time the attackers made it clear who they were with their jackets sporting the colors of the ABB.

Which was why one of them kicked the Merchant to the ground alongside his muscle “SCUM! You dare sell to children!? On neutral ground no less!” The ABB member snarled as he looked towards his men who were shielding the homeless children's eyes from the scene.

Looking at the children whose faces were hidden from the scene before them the man of the ABB ordered “Take them back to the Mission, inform the Shinsai of what has happened.” With a nod three of the large six man group split off before the remaining three turned back towards the downed Merchants.

“Do you know? Do you truly know for whom you have made a great offense towards? A great insult towards?” The man of the ABB asked before he reached into his coat before brandishing a glock 26.

“Fuck you and fuck the pussy that leads you.” The Merchant kicked at the ABB, missing completely in his futile attack.

“Now you have brought disrespect to two great men. You are even more foolish than we thought. Though perhaps it’s because you have so little brains left, after all, you’ve shown to be dumber than those of the Empire." The ABB gangster stepped on the legs of the Merchant, pinning him to the ground, as the barrel of the glock pressed on the side of their head, making the Merchant’s head tilt to one side slightly.

“Oh? Did the lizard get a bodypillow?” The Merchant antagonized, a statement that made one of the ABB members quickly cover his mouth to hide a smile and laugh.

A shot rang out in the alley as the Merchant now had a new hole where his brain was, looking towards the other two Merchants the ABB gangster spoke plainly “You go back to your master. You tell him that the Mission, the church, and its people are off limits. Tell them all that is around it is off limits.” He growled out.

The remaining merchants fled. They had a feeling that Skidmark wouldn’t take kindly to this. The gangs were acting like this church was something important to the city. Bunch of people move in and fix it up, now it’s protected ground. Skidmark heard that they were taking in homeless people, turning them around, cutting into their profits. The Merchants wouldn’t- NO! Couldn’t let this stand.

Randall Clark, the unintentional second to the Burned man, and somehow, unofficial liaison to the Gangs that declared the Mission and the area around it for 2 blocks ‘neutral ground’, was approached by an Empire gang member.

Randall tightened his grip on the horse headed club he was carving. He had taken a dozen spent casings and embedded them into the club's spine. He wired them to run along the back side, adding a bit of weight to the club.

“What is it?” Randall firmly asked.

“The Empire is worried. There are more Archer Bridge Merchants trying to sell drugs around. We are just asking if you would reconsider the offer and-” The gangster explained.

The Empire offered protection services. They just wanted to use the Mission as a meet up spot, use the large chapel to hold a few meetings every once in a while. The Burned Man refused them already.

“A house of God holds no place for the hate of man. People come to have their sins forgiven. This place will not host the demons that live in your hearts even if harm shall never come to those who step inside.” Randall parroted the words of the Burned man.

“That’s understandable, however, the offer is always open. The Empire appreciates the right people in our ranks.” The Man gave a simple nod before simply walking away.

Randall shook his head. The Empire thought that flattery could win them over. The Promise of protection. It was giving up your soul for false promises. Randall ran his hand over the club, it felt a bit rough. He needed to sand it, maybe a bit of staining to deepen the color of the wood. The club he had made was beautiful. It was a bit of a work of art…but also a weapon. One that he hoped, and prayed he would not have to use on others.

Randall was brought out of his contemplation of his creation by the sudden appearance of feet in his cone of vision raising an eyebrow he slowly turned to the sight of Oni Lee, ‘the Blade of the Dragon’ of the ABB, unlike the E88, actually was polite and respectful to the mission and Joshua as he bowed towards Randell with a hand over his heart “Randall-san.” He spoke rarely but was always a straight shooter and direct whenever he talked with him or Joshua.

Randall would watch as Oni-Lee turned to ash, blowing away, he teleported away it seems after delivering the letter. Randall found the assassin weird…he was a man of few words, maybe he came to the Mission when he didn’t wear his mask, or…maybe there was something just slightly wrong with the man. Randall didn’t know, and doubted he ever truly would.

Opening the Letter, Randall found it read like how someone would think a report would be written in the military.

“Merchant encroachment failed from both ours and Empire 88 territories. Will try to push from the south east direction from the docks and train yard. If you need weapons to defend. The great Lung shall donate to help the Shinsai protect his holy ground.”

Randall couldn’t help but chuckle but then his old soldiering mind came back to the forefront as he looked at the road to the south. It was open, few scouts and worst of all should the drug pushers come looking for a fight they wouldn't be able to defend themselves long enough for help to arrive.

Standing up and heading back into the church proper, Randall knew what he needed to do.

He needed to talk to Joshua.

Chapter Text

The Burned Man finished replacing his bandages for the day. He stepped out and looked at the people who sought shelter in the Mission. There was an air of peace that was soothing in a way. Randall approached, seeming nervous.

“Joshua…I’m nervous. Something doesn’t feel right. In the last few days, there have been more issues with the merchants and gangs.” Randall voiced his concern.

The Burned Man placed a hand on Randall’s shoulder.

“We are not here causing issues. We are only protecting those who come here. The conflicts of the gangs is not our concern. If they come here, we will act, but we are not damning the souls of those who seek salvation.” The Burned Man instructed.

Randall looked conflicted, “I think they are going to attack. The Merchants aren’t really known for sticking to the rules. We’re vulnerable if they choose to attack us.”

The Burned Man hummed softly in agreement.

“I trust that you are doing this to keep those inside of our little Eden safe. Do what you think will help keep the mission safe.” The Burned Man explained.

Randall nodded.

“I just hope that it is paranoia and only shadows that I’m jumping at…I just…I used to serve, back before the US pulled back from international conflicts. I saw urban fighting…it was hell. I guess I just…came here cause it felt…like I could understand what was going on. Salt Lake City was nice…but it was too calm, it felt like any second an attack would come and I was missing the signs.” Randall voiced softly towards the end as he stared off at the city streets scanning them.

“Randall. I understand. You are a man who carries many burdens, mentally, and spiritually. Here you found those who would share the weight of those burdens. Do what you think is best. I trust you.” The Burned Man stated before he removed his hand from his friend’s shoulder.

“Ok…I hope I’m wrong.” Randall’s voice was softer.

“We never want to be right about an attack in a place like this.” The Burned Man turned to the door.

“Where are you going?” Randall asked.

“I am going to search for answers. The Lord had brought me to this city, I have questions of what my origin is…I hope to find them out there.” The Burned Man explained, as Randall hastily walked over.

“But…What if I do something wrong? What if I start something with a gang or- I need your guidance. Joshua….What if I mess up?” Randall stammered.

“As said by the Prophet Isaiah, ‘You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.’ They trust in you, so they will stand and listen. The only request I give is if the Mission falls under attack, lead the children to my office, and tell them to block the door.” The Burned Man instructed.

“Ok…Ok…I’ll…see what I can figure out.” Randall nodded.

The Burned Man left for his journey of enlightenment. He didn’t know how things would turn out.

Randall however would gather the old veterans and the volunteers. He needed to get a good handle of what they really had to work with for resources. He needed to organize them a bit more.

Far away from the Mission, the Merchants were gathering. Skidmark was pissed off that there were quite a few people who the merchants sold to, or who were merchants, that were part of the Merchants.

Now they left, thinking that they could just drop the colors, the commitment, think that they could simply run away and there wouldn’t be consequences for those who were poaching their people.

“This mummy fuck thinks he can steal from us and get away with it?! FUCK THAT! Let’s see how he likes it when we take people from him. After all, there’s a church full of clients just waiting to get a taste of the good shit!” Skidmark announced.

— — — — —

Coil took an interest in the actions of the new power player in the city, he made sure he had informants in most of his rivals, both business rivals and power rivals. He had a plan in place to contest the Mayor, take down the Empire, the ABB and the Merchants, he had plans to take over the ABB and Merchants with his own agents. Coil liked to have control.

So when his informants in the ABB, the E88, The Merchants and his own experience with the PRT all noted the Burned Man now had a small gathering and it was unknown what the plan was. They had a small bit of power because the Empire were trying to influence them through ‘good natured interactions’ while the ABB were respecting them because they were a religious group trying to help.

Coil split the timeline and made 2 calls.

— Timeline A —

Coil called his little Tattletale. He sent her out to spy and learn about the Burned Man. Tattletale would be given the location of the Burned Man, and she would follow him for a bit, see what she could dig up on him.

— Timeline B —

Coil called the commander of Strike Team Delta. He sent them out to capture the Burned Man and interrogate him, find out if he had powers, and what his intentions are in the city. The Team would pull up in a van, two of the team would get out behind him, while the other 3 remained inside of the van, ready to assist if needed.

The two approached the burned man, flanking him on both sides, Delta 4 grabbed the Burned Man’s arm, while Delta 5 made a simple Ultimatum “Come with us and you won’t be hurt.”

The Burned Man looked at the Delta team members, before he chose to reject the ultimatum. Slamming an elbow into the face of Delta 4, before striking Delta 5. The Deltas in the van got out, pistols ready, as they were going to now force him at gunpoint to come with them. The Burned man turned, a pistol drawn and in his hands was raised and tracked Delta 1.

Two shots struck Delta 1’s leg, and side. Delta 2 took two shots next, hitting him in the gut and shoulder. Delta 3 was unlucky, the first and only shot that passed through him punctured a lung. Delta 4 tried to tackle the Burned Man, to get the gun away, he was pistol whipped. Delta 5 got onto one knee, seeing his team was taken out with great ease, he planned to just shoot the Burned Man and be done with the freak.

Drawing his own pistol, he didn’t get a chance to raise it, as he was looking down the barrel of the Burned Man’s gun.

“What master do you serve who would resort to violence so easily?” The Burned Man demanded.

“He’s going to take you out. I won’t tell you shit.” Delta 5 growled.

“I am a man on a mission directed by God. He has not led me astray yet. I am a sinner finding redemption…can you say you are the same?”

Delta 5 attempted to line up his shot. He never had a chance.

Coil never heard back from the Delta team, so he collapsed the timeline. He would just need to wait until Tattletale was done with her trailing.

— — — — —

Walking the streets Joshua could not help but think of the recent reports that were shared with him, yet he knew that with what they had the Mission would not fall so easily.

Yet a small part of him still worries, truly worries of whether or not they are ready for a fight should a fight come looking for them, for much like many of the past who attempted to turn the other cheek, to be pacifist, to not get involved. They were always dragged in against their will.

“Heya Joshua.” The all too familiar woman's voice called out towards him which caused the bandaged man to look over and smile under said bandages towards the soft smiling face of Hannah. A woman who was the first to welcome him into the city and even help at the mission on her days off.

“At the rate we cross paths, I would say it is either part of the Lord’s plan, or that you are stalking me.” Joshua chuckled, making it clear that he was joking as he saw Hannah again.

“The same could be said about you. You walk into my life just as much as I do yours.” Hannah reciprocated the humor. “What brings you out this way?” Hannah asked after the two shared a small laugh.

“I am just making a trip through the city. It is a personal matter for me that I hope will resolve a few lingering doubts and clear up some mysteries that plague my mind.” Joshua explained.

“Oh? Sounds like it’s important to you. I was just on my way to a store; I needed to pick up a few things. Nothing important, my work just doesn’t give me a lot of days off, so when I typically have time to do more personal shopping, I take the chance.” Hannah explained to Joshua as she joined his side and slowly began to walk with him.

“Ever the dutiful worker.” Joshua commented which caused Hannah to flash up a peace sign from her hand to show she agreed with him.

“But seriously, if you want I can keep you company. Never liked walking alone myself when it comes to trying to figure things out. Most of the time I just ride my bike to clear my head.” Hannah told Joshua who just listened as he tilted his head every so slightly in agreement.

“In a city like this, there are dangers to a person of your complexion.” Joshua suggested.

“Most of the ones who fucked around, found out why I am not afraid of them.” Hannah gently patted her hip, the distinct muffled sound of a holster that was loaded slightly audible to the Burned Man.

“It seems we have had our trials of those who believe that they have power and demand subservience from others. Not long before my arrival to this city, I encountered a trio, they believed they could take whatever they wanted from the people. I acted to defend those threatened.”

“I think I heard about that on the news a while back. One of those small towns where nothing happens for years, then something happens and it’s talk of the town for months kind of thing.” Hannah stated.

“I like to think it was God trying to protect those people by guiding me to them in their time of need. It may have just been a coincidence. God works in ways few can truly understand.” Joshua stated.

Hannah’s smile faltered just a bit.

“God most certainly does. Both him and his angels.” Hannah agreed, but there was a weight to those words of agreement.

Joshua caught the tension that was behind those words…he didn’t know if it was his place to pry, but to comfort. That he can do as he lays a hand on her shoulder.

“In a just world, people would not need Faith to know that there is a loving God. There are those who turned from God’s love, and in its absence, spread the pain their soul feels from it missing. We can only pray that those who have been hurt will not throw away that love because of the pain it brings them.” Joshua made his statement sound like poetry.

Hannah considered those words. It was…honest in a way. She understood the idea. She wasn’t very religious, not after the war, she paid service to the parts that were important to her family, but…she had lost faith after she got her powers.

“It’s hard to have faith when it feels like it’s never rewarded.” Hannah sighed.

“Faith is not something you feel until it is gone. It is always there.” Joshua voiced softly.

Hannah stared at Joshua as she let his words sink in but before she could respond she was caught off guard as her phone rang. Hannah was mildly embarrassed as the ringtone was a rather popular tone called ‘Miss Militia’s Mamba’ letting out a quick sorry she answered. “Yes?”

Hannah seemingly paled as she listened, eyes darting to Joshua a few times, she looked nervous…no…terrified was a more fitting way to describe it.

“What’s the matter?” Joshua asked.

A PRT branded humvee squealed to a stop, a trooper rolled the window down, sticking his head and arm out.

“Hey! Burned Man! You should come with us! That Mission you rebuilt. It’s being attacked by the Merchants! Come on!” The trooper waved over to the Burned Man which caused him to go stiff before getting into the humvee followed by Hannah.

“Sorry Ma’am, can’t take civilians into combat.” The Trooper tried to stop her.

“I’m covert security, I’m licensed to act in non-parahuman related violence, this is attacking a church, they don’t have capes. That's a good enough reason. Now stop delaying and go!” Hannah ordered.

The Trooper understood the code phrase and hit the gas, speeding down the road, sirens blaring as they raced to reach the Mission.

— — — — —

Upon arriving at the Church the new arrivals were met by a sight of small fires, bodies, even some gang members from the ABB were helping where they could alongside Medhall personnel and paramedics.

A section of the exterior wall that houses the courtyard and garden was knocked down, like it was rammed by something that had driven away. The road had a few damaged cars, some flipped, a truck that was covered in bullet holes, the tires flat, the engine smoking.

But that was the first clear sign that this was the aftermath of a fire fight, shell casing littering the ground, blood splattered on the ground and walls. The windows that depicted Christ were shattered and finally, what truly was a sight was the cross which sat just at the entrance of the church was damaged to the point that the parts representing the father and holy spirit were clearly shot, leaving jagged edges on the now damaged symbol of faith.

The door to the Mission was broken open, the hinges and frame on the ground. The burned man slowly walked inside, stunned. The inside was a mess, benches, beds, tables were knocked over, some dragged broken. A few sheets covered bodies, and the Burned man noticed, in a doorway, was a man, standing...no…pinned into a doorway. He was beaten bloody, cuts covered the skin that was exposed. His legs broken in many places, not allowing him to stand.

The Burned man rushed over, seeing Randall had been pinned to the doorway by knives through his hands, a disturbing mockery of how Christ was punished.

“Randall…” Joshua softly spoke, attempting to comfort the man who was covered in wounds.

“I…tried…to stop them. They had more people…they came in trucks, and they broke the wall behind us.” Randall began only to be stopped by Hannah who was by Joshua's side.

“Hey! No Talking.” Turning her head she ordered “MEDIC! I NEED A MEDIC IN HERE NOW!”

“Th-They wanted t-to take them…I tried to stop them.” Randall’s voice began to shake, tears forming and rolling down his face, blood mixing in with the tears as a mix of voices could be heard rushing towards them as ABB, MedHal, even PRT troopers help to try and free the man.

“Easy, easy.” Instructed Joshua who help to try and save the man’s life.

Randall screamed as they attempted to remove the many nails that were driven into his palms that kept him hanging from the doorframe. The heads of the nails were buried in his hands.

“I…I stopped…them. I t-told them to not open th-th-the door un-until you were h–here.” Randall’s voice got weaker, as attempts were made to try and break the frame to free Randall.

“Randall, you’ll be ok. You’ll come through this. We’ll get you free and then Panacea can help you.” Hannah sounded panicked.

“I…I…I’m scared.” Randall mumbled, barely able to keep his eyes open.

The Burned Man held Randall, trying to ease the pain by lifting the man.

“Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” The Burned Man softly spoke, nearly whispering to Randall.

Randall’s eyes shut, and the Burned Man continued to support Randall, as he bled on the bandages, and the shirt of the Burned Man. It took long minutes, but eventually, the area that had pinned Randall into the doorway were finally broken.

The Burned Man carried Randall back a few steps, laying him down on one of the few benches that was intact, and he pulled the nails from Randall’s hands. He didn’t drop the nails, he carried them to the altar, setting them down on the table that had been ruined, before he came to the door.

“You can come out now. I am here.” The Burned Man spoke into the door.

It was a few long seconds, the door was unlocked and opened. Inside were children, the oldest likely 14, and was holding the club that Randall had carved.

“You are safe now children. Close your eyes, take each other’s hands, and I will lead you outside.” The Burned Man softly instructed, holding a hand out.

He led them out, into the garden, it was damaged, but it was away from the sight of bodies and the injured. The Burned Man came back inside, holding Randall’s club.

“The Merchants have desecrated this holy place, taken the people who sought safety, and made their peace.” Joshua clenched his fist around the grip of the club.

“Joshua…” Hannah reached out.

“It seems that I must right the wrongs that have befallen the innocent, even if my soul is damned from Heaven for what I will do.” The Burned Man rose to his feet, and walked to the door of the church.

People followed him out, watching him. He came to the damaged cross, one that had fallen to the ground. He lifted the wooden beam, pushing it to stand up against a wall, with great effort. The area seemed to have become quiet as everyone turned to watch the man covered in bandages, marked by blood of a fallen friend.

“The Merchants will be gone from this city.” The Burned Man declared, people muttered, confused, worried…this was something…unexpected.

“I promise to you all as God as my witness I shall see that this transgression against this holy place is paid back in blood. An eye for an eye as the book tells us.” Slowly turning around he spoke again “And just as Jesus said to his followers, I shall say the same to those who can still stand.” He was silent as his eyes seemed to glow from the fires glow.

“But now let the one who has a moneybag take it, and likewise a knapsack. And let the one who has no sword sell his cloak and buy one.” Joshua quotes the bible passage before he continued “For this attack has been rendered unto us the faithful by those who are of the greatest of the sins and as such we shall render unto them. So go, go forth and help tend to the wounded, and the sick. For in the coming days retribution shall be rendered onto these vermin who dare call themselves man.”

Chapter Text

Six days, six days have passed since what many within the city have come to call the ‘Mission Massacre’ which brought tensions in the city to an all time high.

The ABB, under the Great Dragon Lung, raised hell against the Merchants, slaughtering any who celebrated in the territory of the Great Dragon. It was the greatest of dishonors and an even greater insult to the mighty Lung who in the time since arriving to the city came to respect the Burned Man and his people for what they were.

A part of the Empire Eighty Eight, under the control of Krieg led a terror campaign against any Merchants who dared show their face to them, dressed in the red cross of the Knights Templar of the modern day not only did they kill the Merchants they caught but some went as far as to crucify them, the reason for this was made plain as day in a PHO video as Krieg himself no longer dressed in a dark trench coat and mask but in a white coat with the templars cross emblazoned on its back shouted to the heavens ‘GODS JUDGEMENT UPON THE FAITHLESS HEATHENS AND SINNERS!’

But what of the church? The mission? That was a somber affair.

Three days after the attack a funeral was held for the dead with many attending under the banner of a white flag for the ABB and E88 Kaiser sent his regards, calling this a tragedy that shouldn’t have happened. The PRT had members attend to them, this was a failure of their duty to keep the people safe.

On that day, the angels cried as rain poured from the heavens as the homeless veterans who died defending the church were laid to rest in the cold, cold ground. Joshua led the prayer for their final rest as their mission was done and now could rest knowing they kept the wicked away from the innocent one last time.

Many laid a flower on their caskets and watched as their lowered into the ground, Randal was the last to lower, as children who cried understood why but those too young to understand cried for him to wake up, but he never would again, for a man such as he was now within god’s arms and being welcomed into the kingdom as another soldier who did his time in hell.

To the PRT and New Wave, the six days of chaos was something they tried to keep contained but failed to as the widespread nature and ferocity was pushing them to the limits, it was chaos, and they stood for law, even if many called the chaos punishment by God.

For the Empire Eighty Eight, they claimed they were truly a righteous organization who had principles and morals, lose as they were, and never would attack a church such as the drug pushers like the Merchants.

For the ABB it showed they were honorable as even before the attack Lung had made it clear that the area around the church was neutral ground and to be respected, and any who would dare bring such dishonor upon themselves to attack such a place was not a true Honorable Asian, and likely would be cast from life by the Dragon himself.

So here they were, six days. Six days of the two of the biggest gangs going to war with the Merchants and yet there was not a peep out of Joshua, who had not been seen nor his people since the funeral, which worried Hannah greatly.

In the time she had come to know Joshua since she first met him had actually come to care for the man, whether those feelings were romantic or from respect of his principles, she didn’t know, but it made her worried that something was happening past the gates and the walls of the mission.

That was why on the sixth day she ignored the summons for a meeting and made a b-line to the mission and to her shock she found the veterans who before had clubs and maybe some simple guns now armed to the teeth with assault rifles, shotguns, even sub machine guns with snipers on the roof. It was clear they were being supplied and prepared for war.

She hoped the latter wasn’t the case as she greeted them with a nod who returned the nod before saying “He’s in the office.” Hannah would make her way through the people inside, she noted the frame of the door was still damaged, where it had been cut was still exposed, the nail holes visible…so was the blood on the walls.

Upon entering was shocked to see Joshua inspecting a stack of Colt nineteen elevens, methodically, each motion of his hands moved with purpose with his gaze inspecting each pistol personally before setting the finished one upon a stock of them.

As if sensing her presence, he spoke, still inspecting, still ejecting magazines, still racking the slides closed before putting the empty magazines back into the gun “By the rivers of Babylon we sat and yea we wept, when we remembered Zion. Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom in the day of Jerusalem who said, "Raze it, raze it, even to the foundation." O daughter of Babylon, who art to be destroyed. Happy shall he be, that rewardeth thee as thou hast served us. Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones.”

Upon hitting the slide release on the frame of the pistol the slide rode forward as the metal upon metal filled the office area as Hannah stood there in complete silence as Joshua setting the last Colt upon the stacks looked at Hannah with eyes filled with anger and fury of a righteous man asked calmly “Do you know what it means?”

— — — — —

Within his room James, better known as Krieg, knelt before a small gallic cross with two candles lit with his hands clasped and a rosary intertwined within his hands prayed.

He rarely prayed and had not done so since becoming a member of Gesellschaft yet since meeting Joshua and visiting the humble church within the mission he had found himself doing so again. He had come to respect The Burned Man and his humble flock. He hoped that this action, this shared crusade could lead to the burned man joining in the path of the Empire.

When the attack happened, he saw this as a chance to bring the cause of the Empire, to show them that they could work together, that they were his people, and he was theirs. The Merchants had given him a target, a tool he could use to draw them in, and unite under the flag of the Empire.

But…James felt…that he had gained some sort of self reflection.

Yes he was a sinful man, yes he himself was a wicked man who had done many a terrible thing, but from his youth and even now he remembered that the bible taught that his sins could be forgiven and right now he fully believed that what he was doing was indeed a righteous deed and would help lead him to salvation for his past sins.

"And shepherds we shall be, For thee, my Lord, for thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to thee, And teeming with souls shall it ever be. In Nomine Patris, et Fili, et Spiritus Sancti." James spoke softly as he made a cross upon his own body before standing up slowly as he unwound the rosary from his hand and placed it around his neck before tucking it back under his shirt.

— — — — —

Outside the Protectorate ENE HQ stood three figures who slowly walked inside, one a mother superior, one wearing the red with a wide hat, and the other in the robes of a catholic priest.

All here for one man and for the events that had happened.

They were here on a mission from god and would see it be carried out.

— — — — —

Hannah stood there in front of Joshua who stared into her very soul as she began to process his words.

“If I had to guess, it means that paradise has been lost, and now you are preparing to go to war, even if it damns you and all those who follow you. Or you just called me an outdated slur and are preparing to destroy the city because you were wronged.” Hannah listed the second option, trying to make the Burned Man, no Joshua, uncomfortable to break the tension that was in the air.

Joshua gave a simple nod as he stood from the desk before he began loading the pistols into a crate “While a simple view, you are not wrong. Wicked men came to a place of God and attempted to raze it to the very foundation. God fearing men defied them just as many did in the past and paid the ultimate price.” He stopped for only a moment as he took a breath to try and keep calm as he asked “Even if the good book teaches us to turn the other cheek I must ask if we should do so for what they have done? For the sins they have committed in this house of god should we forgive them? Should we allow them the chance to return and commit even more acts of barbarism upon those who hath not even come of age to commit sins themselves?”

Joshua's back was turned towards Hannah as he closed the lid upon the crate which housed the pistols, for if he had not his back turned towards her he would see her expression soft, concerned, and caring for his blight and reasons.

“Joshua.” She began as she searched for the right words to use “You don’t have to do this, please think of how the people will see you if you go through with this. Please let peace and love be the driving factor instead of hate and anger.” She softly pleaded towards Joshua.

“Peace rarely stands long when the wicked roam free. And love…Randall was a man who loved with his whole heart, and now he is gone. In its place, is a fire that now burns inside of me, one that will only be quelled by punishing those who ignited the blaze.” Joshua stated, “What justice is there when one who is harmed can not fight back against those who strike them? They choose to hide in the darkness that is hell, I am simply bringing God’s brilliance to them, they will either repent with pain, or be struck down, and be banished from his kingdom for their rejection of salvation.”

Hannah was silent as all she came closer towards Joshua and without knowing it she wrapped her arms around him as she whispered softly concerned and maybe even fear fueling her words “Joshua…please. I'm begging you to not do this. Please.”

Joshua was silent…”Hannah…this needs to be done. I know it troubles you, I will not ask you to damn your soul for my cause. Nor have I asked any of those outside of those doors. They chose this path…I am their shepard…and I have to hope that I will be able to guide them back to peaceful meadows by the end of all of this. We are already stained with the blood of the lamb. We may have the coats washed, but that will not undo the bloodshed upon us.” Joshua sounded…nearly defeated in that admission.

— — — — —

Sitting within a Protectorate meeting room were not just the heroes, minus Miss Militia who did not report in, but also Director Piggot and her Deputy who were staring down two people who they did not expect.

Both were members of the Papal Guard, one dressed in a very French and stylish Nun attire only reserved for those who achieved the rank of mother superior within the nunnery ranks.

The one next to her was another woman with fiery red hair and the greenest of eyes adorn in a priest garb with a large trench coat wearing round glasses and dark lipstick upon her lips staring at each member of the very much so nervous PRT, sans Armsmaster who was ramrod straight.

The room was silent as Renick decided to break the silence “It's truly an honor to have you within our fine city Mother Superior, Mother Longinus.” Clearing his throat slightly “But I’m afraid that you have chosen quite a uh…auspicious time to make such a visit.” Piggot always let Renick take the lead when it came to a more diplomatic approach.

Longinus was the one to speak with her Irish accent cutting through the room “Aye we are here for the one you yanks call the Burned man, he has caught the interest of the church for his many good deeds but the moment we entered into this city and heard about what happened well. I’m afraid our priorities changed.” She adjusted her glasses in a way the light seemed to reflect off of them.

“I believe you can understand bloody well why.” Her voice took on a dangerous edge.

Renick tugged at his collar slightly as he coughed again to clear his throat “And I can assure you that those who did this heinous criminal act shall be brought to justice, there is no need for the Catholic Church to be involved.”

Mother superior chuckled slightly as she spoke towards Longinus in her native tongue “Cette ville a vraiment de la chance d'avoir un berger comme eux” Yet the tone she had could be considered mocking if not for the fact she was French so….who knew.

Longinus chuckled slightly “Oh aye they are, yet I find myself confused.” Her gaze never left Renick who began to sweat slightly “You know who the AMADÁN is and yet you don’t have the bloomin eejits in custody. Why is that?”

“Besides the nazi’s playing crusaders, without their cape named Crusader surprisingly, and the all out witch hunt that has been launched by the gangs that have caught civilians in the crossfire, we’ve been trying to control the fire, we can’t look for the ones who started it.” Dauntless explained, sounding exhausted.

“Qui, and that's a thing. Being so busy and outnumbered, do you really expect to take on the world with no support?” Mother Superior questioned.

The red clad runner, the one sitting next to a woman in a circuit bodysuit, raised his hand, like a child asking a question, “Weren’t there 3 of you who entered? And….only 2 were reported at Boston…and…I don’t see the spanish mouse protector here.” He pointed out.

“We had a stowaway in our luggage.” Mother Superior glared at the redhead next to her.

— — Flash Back — —

“They won’t need these, it will only be a few days.” Longinus tossed a few pairs of robes from Mother Superior’s suitcase, before climbing in.

— — Back To The Present— —

“Wait....how did you close it, and how did you not get detected by X-ray?” Assault questioned, confused by the answer.

Longinus cleared her throat “Doesn’t matter.”

“But….cargo holds aren’t pressurized, and how did you-”

“Doesn’t. Bloody. Matter.”

“Why did you need to hide in a suitcase? You are a Papal Guard, you flew in on a chartered Private Vatican Jet. Everything about these choices makes no sense.” Assault tilted his head.

“I wasn’t expecting a bloody Spanish Inquisition!” Longinus shouted.

A loud slam came from the door, as if someone tried to burst through the locked door of the meeting room.

Everyone turned to look, before Mother Superior walked over, unlocked the door, and sat down, before doing the hand motion to indicate “back that up”. Longinus shook her head, sighing, “I wasn’t expecting a bloody Spanish inquisition.”

The doors burst open, showing the red clad robed figure of the Spaniard, who had a bit of blood running down from his nose, “NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition!” he announced himself, before he stumbled over to an open chair and sat down, pinching his nose, “Got any tissues Senoria?”

Mother Superior sighs slightly as she produces one which he takes with a “gracias.”

Battery just stared at the three as she thought inside her head tempting THE GREAT MURPHY ‘How could this get any weirder?’

-MEANWHILE In another city in the mid-west-

Mouse Protector was enjoying her day, when a rodentication went off on her phone. Looking at her Mous-bile phone, Shenanigans had been detected, and she was not there to participate. Looking at the location, it was the center of capes in the North Eastern United States.

Mouse Protector threw off her cozy Mouse Protector Bathrobe and jumped down into the Mouse Hole, via the Mouse Pole, and then ran to the Rodent-copter. Someone thought they could do slapstick without her knowing, (thank you Dragon) they were wrong!

For she was MOUSE PROTECTOR! *Mouse Protector Theme Plays (It’s just the 60’s batman theme)

-Back to your regular program-

The Spaniard now sitting with his other two members of the church spoke “Well since it is clear that this matter is one and the same for not only our original mission to the states but also our duty to the church. Then it isa clear that the sinners for whom defiled sacred ground shall be punished by us.” He motioned towards the gathered Heroes “Seeing as you a…how you say- containing the fire.”

“That….isn’t how this works. The Merchants are criminals, however they are deserving of Due process. They attacked a church, yes, but that doesn’t give you free reign to do as you wish.” Armsmaster stated.

“Our mission was to determine the nature of the Burned Man, now you eejits are acting like we aren’t heroes ourselves. We might as well end da fekken crusades as well since we're here.” Longinus shouted.

Armsmaster step forward slightly “You shall do no such thing. The entire matter is jurisdiction of the US Law enforcement agencies' IE PRT ENE.” He was staring down the three before a chuckle seemed to escape the Spaniard.

Mother Superior stood up, cleared her throat, and shouted “Tu es un porc infidèle qui cherche à flatter son ego avec un complexe de Napoléon ! Je te traiterais d'homme, mais ce serait te donner trop d'honneur, car tu es un enfant qui pleure auprès de sa maman quand quelqu'un ne respecte pas ses règles !”

Armsmaster just looked shocked, everyone was confused, none of them knew French, “Should we call a dragon to translate?” Assault joked.

“No. I understood what she said.” Armsmaster almost growled through gritted teeth and before he could respond to the now smirking Mother Superior, Longinus cut off whatever was going to start.

“Look whether ye like it or not. We are here. A bloody church was attacked and it is the sacred duty of the Papal guard to defend the faithful, to bring justice to those who attack the faith, and to ensure that the faith is kept pure.” She was standing now “And with all due respect. You're acting like a right bunch of daft cunts! We do not need your permission to do our duty as ordained by God.”

Everyone was shocked by the insult thrown by the Irish Catholic.

“We ask that you do not kill any criminals you come across. The US shuns capes murdering people as a form of control. If you are caught being responsible for murder, you will be arrested and tried by American law, as well as if you are caught breaking any other laws while state side. Status in the church withstanding, we can offer you temporary housing in the PRT HQ while on your mission as a sign of cooperation.” Piggot sighed and looked at the 3 religious capes. She just prayed that NOTHING ELSE Happened.

Only for the phone to ring as Piggot answers with an internal sigh “Yes?”

“Director! You gotta send everything you can to the docks, trainyards, FUCKING EVERYTHING!” Hannah, Miss Militia's voice yelled out from the speaker on the conference phone's body, in the background she could hear the sounds of tires squealing against the pavement of the road showing she was driving at high speeds.

Piggot now wishes she had the bottle she kept in her desk here, she wanted to put herself into a coma just about now. Why did she even think that?

Mother Superior looked to the clock on the wall and saw it was midnight and with a soft smile she spoke “And on the seventh day, the demons run when the good man goes to war.”

Chapter Text

On the seventh day of the first hour. 

The people of Brockton Bay were awoken to the sounds of vehicles, men and women in tactical gear with guns urging them to go quietly into the night to seek safety. 

These men and women were the military veterans who had taken up arms, dressed in rough clothes, remnants of uniforms from days of serving their country, others lacked any clear connection to the military. They however had marked themselves with a collection of purple bandanas and arm bands, to distinguish themselves from the other gangs. A mix of plate carriers, vests and clothes were also marked with large crosses on their chests and backs. Some marked themselves with face paint, some having practical camo, others marked themselves more tribal like designs, marking their ancestry. 

The Veterans drove out, having been given information on Merchant locations across the city by both gangs and scouted by themselves. Veterans who found a home, would have their revenge against those who harmed them. They would not draw as much blood as the Merchants had, they were better than them.

The attack came as military veterans who were rangers and members of Wampanoag, Nipmuck, and Pawtucket tribes moved silently towards Merchant sentries who would be grabbed and gagged, unable to cry out as they were choked and dragged away from their posts. Veterans surrounded the location, ready to strike. 

Blowing a soft whistle the rest would continue to move in the shadows, silencing any merchants who would try to warn their friends until they finally reached their positions.  

High above on the rooftops snipers along with their spotters and along with a team that had built their own anti-vehicle weapon prepared from a vantage point, ready to strike if needed.

On the seventh day, on the third hour, within the warehouses, store houses, drug houses, all manner of places the merchants thought their ill gotten gains, vices, and sins were safe came under fire as the night sky was illuminated by seeming divine light filled the starless skies, followed by a rain of vengeance, malice and anger fueled by loss and pain.

Guns fired, the creation of homemade flashbangs and other weapons disorienting the unsuspecting Merchants would make those flee getting caught, and beaten, while those who fought, were sometimes killed by those trained to put down threats as they found them. The locations were raided for information, the bodies gathered, the captured bound and authorities alerted of their capture and of the destruction.

Store houses were hit by or blown up with explosives, their weapon stores captured or smelted in righteous fire, and their bodies? Left where they died as the men and women marched forward towards their lair led by the Burned man himself who only carried a pistol in one hand and a cross in the other. 

Yet Joshua never fired a shot, never did he lift his weapon, for the weapon would only be raised against the greatest sinners of the merchants. 

For he would only raise his gun against Skidmark and only then would he use it. 

— — — — — 

Hannah raced through the streets as she pushed her little 2000 ford ranger to its limits, almost fishing tailing a few times as she switched gears “Come on, come on, come on.” She mumbled to herself as she growled, almost smashing her phone “DAMN IT! Can’t they hurry the hell up!” 

Tossing the phone to the side and all but foregoing the thought of the PRT responding to what was happening she drove until a car came within her vision which caused Hannah to hit the breaks and one patch of water sent her truck sliding right into a lamp post with her head hitting the window hard enough to crack the glass and her to become dazed from the impact. 

Through hazed vision Hannah began to regain her senses as figures started coming towards her with something raised in their hands, remembering her training and her time growing up, Hannah tried to get to a pistol she kept in the glove box only for a burst of gunfire to fill the air which caused her to dive as far down as she could putting the engine block between her and where the gun fire was. 

Soon fast foot falls filled her ears followed by voices “Hey! Are you alright in there? It’s alright we’re friendly! Keep down, we're gonna get you out!” What followed was glass breaking as Hannah finally looked up to see the veterans from the mission in full tactical gear reaching into the passenger door as they unlocked it before prying it open. 

Now out of her crashed truck Hannah looked around and was shocked to see dead Merchants with one of the veterans checking her over “Your good, minor scraps and cuts.” A veteran with a red cross on their body armor and shoulder told her as another spoke up. 

“The hell are you doing here? You should be home where it's safe and away from this.” A man holding an M14 asked towards Hannah.  

“I’m trying to get to Joshua, stop him before he does something he could regret.” She let out quickly before she looked the gathered veterans in the eyes as she pleaded with them “Please, you know well as I what will happen if he goes through with what he's planning, please.” 

They were silent for a moment before the lead man jerked his head slightly “Will take ya to him.” Hannah nodded in thanks as she reached for a glock from the glove compartment and an ar fifteen from the gunrack in her truck before she joined the small group of veterans running towards their destination.  

But from the gunfire and explosions in the distance she could only pray she wasn’t too late to stop Joshua from carrying out what he had promised to his people. For while yes Skidmark was scum, he was scum who deserved the rule of law and not a bullet through the head. 

— — — — — 

The Protectorate ENE headquarters had very rare moments of issuing a full mobilization order. 

But the moment reports came in of the Burned Man leading a force and carving a b-line straight to the heart of Merchant territory was such a moment where Piggot ordered a full mobilization order to everyone which included capes, troopers, hell even New Wave as they moved to hopefully stop the full blown war that was happening within the city, again. 

Piggot herself even was dawned in body armor with a rifle in hand as Rennick followed alongside her “Emily you're insane! Are you seriously gonna go out there?” 

Piggot after racking the bolt on the M-four turned to her deputy “Rennick right now its all hands on deck, and I’ll be damned if I don’t do my part because right now we have a man out there leading a fucking crusade to kill Skidmark and you know damn well what will happen if he follows through on what he's planning.”    

“And vhat do you zhink he is planning?” Mother Superior questioned, as she was now carrying her cross, and was in a hybrid Nun-knight outfit.

Piggot stopped at the back of an MWRAP as she turned her head to the battle nun "He's going to do what the bible says. Eye for an eye, am I right?” She might not have been a religious person but her grandfather was after he returned from Europe after world war two. 

‘’ ‘Whoever takes a human life shall surely be put to death. Whoever takes an animal's life shall make it good, life for life. If anyone injures his neighbor, as he has done it shall be done to him, fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth; whatever injury he has given a person shall be given to him. Whoever kills an animal shall make it good, and whoever kills a person shall be put to death. You shall have the same rule for the sojourner and for the native, for I am the Lord your God.’  The book of Leviticus 24: 17-22, a verse cut short and used by those who knows not of the context.” The Spaniard spoke, his voice coming from behind the back of Piggot.

Piggot huffs as she finds her seat “Either way you want to cut it, your holy man is going off to kill Skidmark and it’s my job to stop him.” She was silent before she added “Cause unlike what most think of me, I do respect the man for what he's done before the attack. He's got a reputation of being the only good soul in this damn city and I'd hate for that to be tarnished for what he's planning tonight.” She wasn’t lying either, in the time she read the reports and seen what Joshua had done for his section of the city she did come to respect him, parahuman or not, a man like him was rare and those who spill blood rarely ever go back. 

As she was joined by the Spaniard and Mother Superior a third voice chimed in “Aye, but you forget that the faith has its own history of those who have shed blood in the name of God, one of which I believe fits perfectly is a lass from Ukraine.”  

Piggot looked at Longinus as she asked right as the doors closed “Aren’t you named after the roman that supposedly stabbed Jesus?” 

“”I am. The red bastard is themed after the largest purity movement of the time. The only ones who break the naming after saints are plumber and the frog.” Longinus stated before she calmed down slightly. 

“But the person for whom I was referring to before. Is Saint Olga of Kiev.” Longinus began as she seemed to fish a flask from her coat and took a quick swig before returning it to her coat pocket as she looks at Piggot right in her eyes past her glasses. 

“What? It’s cultural.” Longinus stated, “Any who, if it was the member of my order who shares the saint’s name, she would likely have just started a firestorm that would put a halt to an army of charioteers. Out of all of us, the only one who would probably have issues with his approach is Adjutor, and they’d just flood the place to try and wash it clean.” 

Piggot looked at her skeptical before the Spaniard chimed in “She is not wrong Senoria, and while many will see what he is doing as extreme. Those of the faith see it another way.” Leaning back he looked to the roof of the MWRAP as he quoted the verse “Ezekiel 25:17, The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.” 

Looking back at Piggot he chuckled “While it might be famous because of a movie, it is something many shall relate to a man who has done all he can to try and be a righteous man, a kind man, a selfless man.” 

Piggot decided to add her view on it “So what you're saying is that we're looking at a good man who was pushed so hard that he decided to go to war because of his religious views?”  

“He is a man whose home was vandalized. There is only so much a man can turn the cheek before he is faced with his attacker once more. I would say he held great restraint with waiting a week. But this is as much of revenge for what happened, as it is about what the faith tells us. You strike at the gangs because they attack your faith in the laws made by man. It is much the same, just under different names to try and make them distinct.” Longinus explains from their view point which caused Piggot to sigh. 

Looking at the three, Piggot asks in an almost defeated voice “So now I gotta ask, you think the three of you, if any of you encounter him, can talk him down?” 

“If not. I can take him by surprise.” The Spaniard shrugged.

“I can certainly meet him, if he listens, then good, if not, I have a spear.” Longinus held the collapsed spear in her hand.

“If he shoots me, I am taking him with us, unconscious.” Mother Superior’s grip tightened on the cross.

Piggot groans “Great, I’m surrounded by religious nutjobs.” The three would have said something if not for the sudden jerk of the MWRAP which caused Piggot to look towards the cab. 

“What's going on? Why did we stop?” She asked as the driver replied back “We…might have a problem.” Standing up she opens the rear door and steps down before coming face to face with men and women armed with rifles at the low ready but not raised. 

“Shit.” Piggot softly cursed as she raised her voice “We’re just trying to find your leader! We have no issues with you!” 

A woman, native American from what Piggot could see, called out “So you can arrest him? I think not!” The clicks of safeties filled the area showing Piggot that was her warning. 

Mother Superior decided to stand up, opening the door and stepped out.

“By the Order of the Papal Guard, the protectors of the faith and the will of the Church of Saint Peter, you will take us to the man wrapped by flame.” She spoke clearly which caused more than a few to tense up as the same woman from before called back. “You gonna try and take him? He's done nothing wrong but avenging our people!” 

Longinus joined Mother Superior as she held her hands up walking towards the veterans. “Aye he is, and no we are not going to take him. If anything we wish to make sure his soul is not stained with the sin of taking another life.” Her voice is calm and soothing as she steps closer towards the armed veterans.” 

The Veterans looked back at the pair, then the MWRAP. 

“Who’s the one in the car?” A veteran demanded.

Piggot sighed, stepping out, identifying herself.

“I may as well speak with the man. I can not allow murder, even if I believe they are deserving.” Piggot announced.

The Veterans turned, looking at each other, before one of them approached, holding a walkie talkie.

“They got approval. Take the truck with them in the back.” One veteran stated,

Piggot, Mother Superior, Spaniard and Longinus were lead to a truck, they climbed in, with the truck started up, before heading towards the Mission.