Alfred POV

  I planned for this encounter from the moment I knew it was coming. I had the right power set. I had the information. And most importantly, I had the advantage of surprise.

  Lung didn’t know what hit him…

  …at first. It was pretty hard to miss the sword sticking out of his flaming chest after I threw it at near-supersonic speeds. Ditto for the neat special effects that connected the both of us. A river of red, purple, and black mist flowed from where he was stabbed and swirled around me like an underwater current.

  Since I was floating above him and right behind Taylor with the moon as a backdrop, I was about as conspicuous as I could possibly be.

  As to what’s happening right now, it’s simple.

  I was currently using one of the Dark Dragoon Spirit’s signature magic spells. It’s one out of eight artifacts from the Legend of Dragoon video game that didn’t get the recognition it deserved. I must have spent thousands of hours replaying it, which is why I chose this specific boon for being sent here.

  I knew what these powers could do.

  Now, for the rare few who know about the game, they might be wondering why I’m using this particular Dragoon Spirit. After all, since Lung used fire, shouldn’t I use its opposite element of water or ice?

  Good question!

  While the Blue-Sea Dragoon Spirit would certainly work well against the Dragon of Kyushu, it would only treat the symptoms. What really makes Lung dangerous is his near-endless regeneration and ability to escalate.

  So, I thought that it was better to simply nip this in the bud, as it were.

  Astral Drain, the ability that I’m attacking him with, does just that. It siphons the lifeforce of a single enemy, which I can then use to heal myself and my allies. The game version severely limited its use for balance reasons.

  Here and now? I could use it for as long as I pleased.

  Which is why Lung is now on his knees while trying and failing to pull the sword out. I was basically sucking him dry faster than he can recover and storing that vitality…somewhere. Not really clear on where it goes, but I’m going to assume mystical mumbo-jumbo.

  Naturally, some of you might think this was unfair or OP. Nope!

  See, as far as I’m concerned, Lung is the tutorial boss. Oh, sure, he’s plenty scary. Boogeyman of Brockton Bay and all that.

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  At the end of the day, however, he’s pretty predictable. This goes double for this fight, where I stacked the deck as much as I could.

  Not to mention all of the things that went wrong for him in canon. Taylor has already inflicted major venom damage. With Astral Drain putting even more stress on his body, the fight is pretty much a layup.

  Of course, I could still be accused of being a cheating cheater who cheats, but let me ask you this. Are you insane?!

  You understand what’s going on in this setting, right? You know who and what I’ll be going up against, right? And you want me to, what, give myself some arbitrary weakness just to make things interesting?

  Fuck that!

  I’m giving myself the best chance of success to make this blighted world even just a little brighter. These powers do that. Along with knowing about future events and my willingness to take every advantage I can get.

  Which brings us back to what’s happening right now.

  Touching down on the rooftop beside Taylor, I kept my eyes on the visibly shrinking villain. It wouldn’t do to fall for the trope of allowing an enemy to escape or retaliate after only briefly losing sight of them, after all.

  I’m not going to commit cliché mistakes. No sirree.

  After drawing level with this setting’s heroine, I took a chance on conversing with her without turning away from my target.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Taylor didn’t respond for a few seconds, which I expected. After all, this was her first night out. Her social awkwardness should also prevent her from answering immediately.

  What I didn’t anticipate was the choked, almost gurgling sound that came out of her general direction. That finally prompted me to give the girl my full attention, only to find her almost pressed against a wall and practically convulsing.

  Ah, crap.

  Taylor POV

  She thought she knew fear. Seeing Lung haul himself over the side of the building - trapping her with him with no escape - had Taylor on the verge of a panic attack. This new cape, however, induced such indescribable terror that it was nearly impossible to even think.

  Her throat had clamped up, her stomach was spasming, and her thoughts weren’t reaching her limbs. She felt oppressive, oily tendrils coiling around her body and mind. All she could do was stare in wide-eyed horror as the new arrival brought the city’s strongest parahuman to his knees.

  Who was this? Taylor had never even heard of any cape matching this person’s description. Elaborate armor of dark blue, red, and black that looked almost organic. Wings that seemed to combine those of insects, bats, and a folding fan, of all things.

  Most notably of all: he wasn’t wearing a mask.

  Was he part of New Wave? Before she could continue chasing that thought further, the cape spoke, asking if she was hurt.

  This effectively halted all further ruminations. He actually sounded worried.

  Why? She was on the verge of pissing herself in fear thanks to whatever power he was using. Why express concern now?

  Taylor didn’t know how to respond. Her airway felt so constricted that it was difficult to breathe. When she finally summoned the strength to speak, she only managed a weak croaking sound. That’s when he finally turned to face her, a frown forming on his face. He stared at her for a few moments before raising his hand, palm pointed at Taylor.

  I’m going to die…

  With that resigned conclusion, the girl promptly thought of her father. What’s going to happen to him when he learns that she died in a cape fight? She should have told him the truth when she had the chance.

  Closing her eyes, regrets and recriminations flashed through her mind. She should have fought back against her bullies. She should have joined the Wards. She should have tried to make up with her dad.

  Taylor only wanted to matter. To be a hero.

  Now, it was too late. She would die a nobody…

  …or was she?

  In an instant that felt like both an eternity and a heartbeat, Taylor suddenly felt more alive than she could remember. Energy flooded her body, the fog of fear was cleared away, and her mind gained crystal-clear awareness of her surroundings.

  The change was so sudden that it left her breathless.

  “Better?”

  Taylor was jolted out of her brief fugue. She looked up at the cause of her current predicament. At first, she felt numb. Then came the crystallization of her scattered impressions of the individual standing over her.

  What followed was boundless, incandescent rage.