Welcome to Wyrm, a parahuman radio serial. This series is a fan project paying tribute to Wildbosweb's serial Wyrm and contains graphic violence, strong language, and adult subject matter. Listen to your discretion as advised. In 1982, a man with extraordinary powers appeared over the Atlantic Ocean, ushering in a new era of heroes and abominations.
Across the world, people began to develop powers of their own, turning them upon the world in violent and destructive ways. So began the age of parahumans. This is the story of Brockton Bay, 30 years later, an American city dominated by the villains of this age. I was being poisoned by people with smiles on their faces.
Fake. Pretending to be happy. Pretending to be cheerful. I spent enough time here to know that my friends and my family would be crying the second they thought they were out of your shot.
So when my mom came to check on me, I just pretended to be asleep. Becca, you awake. You've been so brave, my little superhero. You've been trying so hard, you deserve better.
Just like that, from the tone and the word choice. I was dying. My mother didn't even bother to console me as she left. I just sat there, watching the cityscape as tears puddled on my pillow.
Do you need morphine? I'm going to increase the drip just a little, Rebecca Costa Brown. Who? You're not one of my doctors.
No, Rebecca. Not yet. Are you one of the doctors that takes care of people that are dying? Who are you, then?
Shh. Lower your voice. It would be a shame if the nurses happened to come by and eject me. So, you're not supposed to be here?
No. To answer your question, I'm a doctor, but not one that works in this hospital. I'm more of a researcher and scholar than anything else. And I came to make you an offer.
Shouldn't my mom be here for this? Normally, yes, when dealing with a minor. But this is a private deal, just for you. I don't understand.
You've heard about the superheroes on the television? Yeah. There's like a bunch. One or something.
No less than 50 now. They're appearing all over the world, with thousands upon thousands estimated to appear by the turn of the millennium. I confess I have something of a hand in that, which is why I'm here. You make superheroes appear?
I make superheroes. But it's not easy. The risks are high. Contessa, the files?
A teenage girl opened the folder and pulled out a bunch of pictures. A man with a gnarled skin like the wood of a tree. A woman with tentacles everywhere. A beetle man.
A boy with skin that seemed to melt like wax. A burned husk of a body. And a little girl with eyes. Right now, in the early stages of my project, only one in seven succeed.
Two of those seven die. Four experience unfortunate physical changes. They're monsters. Yes.
Yes, they are. But of those seven, statistically, there's one who experiences no major physical changes, who gains powers. All anyone has to do is drink one of my formulas. And I stumbled on a little side benefit, Rebecca.
I mix those potions a certain way, and it not only helps reduce the severity of any physical changes, but it also has a restorative effect. The body heals. Sometimes just a little. Sometimes a great deal.
I think we could heal you. Heal me? I'm not asking for money. Only that you take this leap of faith with me and help me build something.
I know the risks are great. I wouldn't normally ask someone to face them, but I suspect you don't have much left to lose. If it was just this, if you were offering to save my life and make me one of those monsters, I'd still accept. I think we can mark this as success.
I opened my eyes. I see something fragmented but profound, but it slipped away. So, I'm not a monster now? No.
In fact, I don't know if it could have gone any better. My skin? I'm better? I would guess so.
In truth, I'm not sure how the regeneration affected the cancer. It might have even exacerbated the symptoms. For the time being, however, you seem to be well. I feel really light.
That's promising. Everything around me appeared sharper. Even my mind seemed to be operating like a well-oiled machine. It's like my brain had been a bicycle and now it was a Ferrari.
I could tell it was processing faster, taking the details, and sorting them better. What can I do? I've yet to start categorizing the results. For the time being, I'm playing a game of battleship, creating what I can and blocking the results.
I hope to find the patterns and the factors at play given time. You're going to keep doing what you did with me? I'm going to find an alternative as soon as possible. The risks are too high at present.
You understand that what I have is valuable, and every time I approach a potential patient, I face the possibility that I'm going to be exposed. They'll stop you? They'll try. I have her to guard me, but I'd rather work without interference.
So, what do we do now? What do I do? I have ideas. Would you object to accompanying me for some time?
I could use another bodyguard. I don't even know what I do. Nor do I, but I think it would be a bad idea for you to return home. I walked across the empty building.
By the time I reached the other end, I was floating, my feet not even touching the ground. I set my hands on the wall, and crushed it in my hands. It should have ruined my skin, but it hadn't. I used to be a shadow of a person, barely there.
Now I'm something more in every single way. Alexandria. I waited as Contessa adjusted her. Kate Finn strode through the door.
The doctor was there, of course. Professor Manton, too. The boy with the math powers was there. Standing extra boy was staring off into space.
She's young. She's also one of my best yet. I've heard of her. Los Angeles.
You took down a strong arm in Mongolia. It was impressive. Thank you. She's as strong as any parahuman we've recorded.
Flies at speeds that match your own legend. Near-perfect memory retention. Accelerated processing and learning. It's more typical of heroes to wear brighter colors.
It conveys a more positive image. Black's more utilitarian. Harder to see in the dark. And it's easier to get the blood out.
Do you get a lot of blood on your costume? I hit really hard. Okay, well, it's nice to meet you, Alexandria. But I'm not sure I see the point in this, doctor.
You each committed to assisting my enterprise in exchange for the powers I could grant. Yeah. Now, I have two things I'd like you to consider. The first is, well, you could consider it a new arrangement.
All right. I can keep an open ear. What's your proposal? It's not my proposal, Alexandria.
This room, I would argue, contains the most powerful parahumens in the world. Fine, accepted. The ability to accomplish is undeniable, even if villains outnumber the heroes. Powers could come to benefit the world in the long run.
A golden age, if you will. But we know that trigger events tend to produce damage to certain unbalanced individuals. Any traumatic event will do that. And a trauma punctuated by the acquisition of superpowers is going to leave a lasting impression.
Trigger events produce more villains. We know this. And I'm producing more heroes than villains. For now, the proportion favors us.
And you've been able to keep the criminal element in line, for the most part. But even as I expand my operations, I have come to the realization that I can only produce so much. And the rate of parahuman growth is expanding. The next 20 years are projected to produce a total number of 650,000 people with powers worldwide.
I've looked at the numbers, at the growth, the trends, checked and double-checked them. Even if the rate decreases, we're going to get outpaced hard. The people with trigger events are going to outnumber the doctor's clients and we'll wind up with three to ten villains for every hero that steps forward. A recurring worry is that as much as I've been able to give to you four with exemplary abilities, we can see each other threats of comparable power.
Is there any evidence of this? We haven't explained how you create the powers, but what you've said leads me to believe that you're producing something purer than what everyone else gets. Perhaps. But the purer of something is, the more fragile it becomes.
You know, there's a possibility that the formula can become tainted, giving inhuman characteristics to the unfortunate subjects. This is despite the most sterile conditions. I'm improving the results over time with Professor Manton's help, but there are no guarantees. The point we're getting around to is that even if the doctor can get better results with time and effort, the explosion in the natural parahuman population is inevitably going to produce an individual with powers that outstrip our own.
So we lose in the long run. No, Dylan, because I'd like to propose a solution. A way to assert control. I want to band together.
Form a team. There's already teams forming. Yes, we'd be powerful, influential, but I don't see how that addresses the problems. Simple.
We know the government's been pushing for it. We regulate. We follow the stipulations and regulations. That's not a horrendously bad idea.
Well, because it's, you know, if it was just the four of us together, we could afford to push back if they pushed too hard, and they'd know that. And just by being there, we could make the project attractive enough to bring others in. And how does this benefit you, doctor? It doesn't.
Not directly. That's why this is Alexandria's proposal. But we could send some of our clients to you. Happier clients are better for business.
And you'd want to be in charge, Alexandria? No. I think your hero would be a better choice. To portray a kind of face and positive image, you'd wear the colorful costumes.
Not that alone? He's too powerful. I'm not saying either of you aren't, but we wouldn't be able to convey the impression that it's the government in control of these heroes if Ediolan was front and center. You've given this a lot of consideration.
More than a little. I have an eight-stage plan to incorporate parahumans into society. I've also researched and developed plans for marketing and monetizing caves. America's most powerful country in the world.
It's a capitalist nation, first and foremost. We'll use that to our advantage. Seems to be getting away from the idea of doing good deeds for the sake of doing good deeds. It is, but that's inevitable.
Our generation's growing up. Couple that with the explosion in parahuman numbers, and this situation threatens to get well out of control. We need structure and organization if we're going to keep things intact. There's no guarantee your plan will survive contracting contact with government.
There's one guarantee. What's that? A mastermind that will take at least five years to establish this plan nationwide. And that span will start with only a few groups in the large cities.
We'll gradually and gratefully accept involvement and oversight from the government and law enforcement. We'll create a subgroup for minors with powers, so we can strictly structure the environment and development. Those are the key points. And that gives me time to address your doubts.
Again, how? Well, I expect we'll be able to employ the remainder of the plan, the eight-step integration of parahumans with the public, because I will be in a position of power in the government. I, my civilian self, can be in charge of the government-sponsored here superhero teams within about eight years. There's too many holes in that plan.
People will wonder why Alexandria and your secret identity aren't in the same place at once. There's more than one solution for that. For one thing, I can work faster and better than my unpowered peers. For another, the doctor thinks she can buy this suitable body double with similar powers before the deadline.
I designed this costume to be elegant without being a pension guy. No color, as you pointed out. I don't seek leadership of the team. Instead, I will contend myself with working to guide legislation to where we need it.
It seems so manipulative. Everything people feared we'd be doing. Well, I have booklets of paperwork you can look over. All the math, all the protected issues for the future, and all of my proposals and plans.
You don't have to give me an answer in the way, but just please consider it. And I think it goes without saying that everything said in this room stays in this room? Good. Thank you.
There's one more thing I would like to show you. If you'll accompany me, Contessa, guide Doormaker for us. My God. He gained a very valuable set of powers, but there was an unfortunate effect on his perceptions.
He sees too much at once. He's effectively blind and deaf. He agreed to work for me in exchange for care and comfort. I will be locating my operations from this coastline.
Doormaker will shuttle you to and from my base in the future. Where is it? Another Earth. Like Earth or less?
The one haywire opened the portal too? In some respects, yes. My assistant will hand you the booklets Alexandria prepared for her project. Doormaker will then take each of you home in turn.
Thank you. You didn't tell them about our long-term goals. No. There's issues that have to be addressed first.
We've already discussed several. Is there anything I can do? You have your end of the project. I feel they'll come around.
Focus on that. I'll handle the projected issues on my side of things. Just need to find the right individual. Someone I can groom, perhaps.
Between you and I, one of us is bound to succeed. Your two years are up in three months. Will you be returning to your family? Oh, I nearly forgot.
I've been so busy. It might do you good to see them. Maybe. Good.
I do expect your return. Yeah, of course. The clawed hand speared towards the sky, followed by an arm of the size of an oak tree. I could feel the impact whippling through the air.
Forty-five feet tall, at the very least. He climbed forward from underground. His skin was crusted with black stone that might have been obsidian. Layers of what might have been cooled magma sloughing off of him.
A single red eye glowed from the gap between two horns. His entire body seemed designed to be a weapon. The rest of the protectorate was present, and the local heroes, the mythics, it somehow didn't feel like enough. A whirlwind blast of sand ripped past them.
Kava stumbled back, collapsed, blood pouring from his ears. The man ignited from the inside out, flame and smoke pouring from every orifice as he was turned into a burned-out husk in a matter of seconds. A lightning bolt flashed from the tip of a behemoth's claw, arching around me and striking one of my subordinates before leaving only the smell of ozone. I flew in close, trying to knock him off the balance.
I was slammed against the ground, the sand turning to glass around me. I flew back and out of the way until I had air, until I could breathe again. The heroes were beating a hasty retreat as the thing advanced. Slow and implacable.
Shit! Guys, back home! Say we're close to some major oil fields! Edylon's makeshift walls collapsed, and more heroes fell, bleeding from heavy internal damage.
Dumb luck had created a parahuman as dangerous as what the doctor could create by design. Fire, sound, lightning, and he hit me harder than he should have, even being as big as he is. Knetically, too. I didn't know how to combat it, but I knew we didn't have a choice.
I threw myself back into the thick of the fight. I, Alexandria, do solemnly affirm that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the Director appointed over me, according to the regulations of the PRT-CJ. You do less proud. Thank you, Mr.
President. I'll give it my all. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce the founding members of the protector of the United States of America. How did you find me?
You of all people should be aware of our resources. With our latest success, locating you wasn't difficult. I see. Some new thinker, I would assume.
But why would you still need me? What did, what you did was reckless, stupid. My heart goes out to hear me, you fake consolations, Hero. I'm well aware of how well you care about her, about me.
Then explain why I'm standing here, talking to you. This isn't an execution, Will. You made a mistake, preached our trust. But there are some of us who still view you as a valuable ally, who would be willing to forgive you if you'd just...
Somebody grabbed me from behind. Their grip's seemingly immovable. I could feel my armor being crushed by it in their hands. You'll see I'm allies of my own now.
Hello, Hero. Audrey? Powers aside, you've always been a fool, Joshua. But even you wouldn't be short-sighted enough to think the abomination with a hand around your throat is my daughter.
The poor girl is likely still in your custody. Tell me, what are you doing to the child? Or perhaps you've already tossed her aside to terrorize one of the Doctor's little toy worlds. What?
What do you want from me? What I want is to have my daughter back in my arms again. But what I want is irrelevant now, isn't it? I suppose I'll settle for the next best thing, to be left alone, to not have you or Rebecca or Dandor or any of our...
No, any of your... Hot creations enter my sight ever again. We have no more interest in working with you. No more interest in your experiments or machinations.
The company you've provided me during those years will spare you this one time. You're too valuable to her to lose without retribution. I, on the other hand, can likely be replaced by any number of our gold-like heads searching for a new world order. I just want to know why.
If you don't already understand, further parlay is worthless. Leave now and know that if anyone returns, you will be the first to perish by my hands. We've got her cornered? I think so.
We've got teams covering the drainage and plumbing below the building and the entire place is surrounded. She hasn't tried to leave. Why not? She has a victim.
Legend, you'd better be fucking kidding me or I swear. Stop, Alexandria. It was the only way to guarantee she'd stay put. If we moved too soon, she'd run and it would be a matter of time before she'd racked up a body count elsewhere.
Then let's move. The sooner the better. We're trying an experimental measure. It's meant to contain, not kill.
Driver tours the main street. We have more trucks over there. Siberian was there, kneeling on the bed, her arms slick with blood up to the elbows. The man who lay on the bed, there would be no saving him, even if Ediolan manifested healing abilities.
We'd as underestimated the opponent. My fist fell out of the Siberian and didn't bunch her a hair. I flew out of the way before Siberian could strike. I fired beam at Siberian, but the script woman didn't even flinch.
She was invincible on a level that surpassed even Alexandria. I cast out a cluster of crystal techs, floating in the formation around Siberian on impact, and chasing her. Siberian shrugged it off like it was nothing. Lunged forward, going after me.
I failed to intervene, to guard my teammate, but Siberian was faster. When she pulled her arms free, she nearly bisected Hero. No! Siberian leaped after Eidolon as he ran to grab Hero, missed only because I shot them to alter their trajectory.
The ensuing moments were frantic, filled with screamed orders in raw terror. Alexandria chased Siberian to try to scoop bystanders out of the way to catch the PRT vehicles that Siberian flung like flippable balls. I was trying to feel fear, to teleport people out of danger without entering logic provided on the table, and changing up the Israelis every few seconds to throw something new in Siberian and hope that something would affect her. She waited through films of altered time, lightning storms, worse fields, more tortered barricades of living wood and chanted-sized projectiles so hyper-dense that a gravitational field pulled towards behind it.
I moved in close, hoping to stop Siberian, to catch her and slow her down. Saw Siberian swing, pulled way back out of the way. And then I felt the blood. Saw in one remaining good eye the chunks of her own face that were falling to the ground around her, bouncing off her right breast, the spray of blood, hand-pinned so long since she'd felt pain.
He's the one behind Siberian. How? Why? I don't know what predicated it.
His daughter's in our custody, one of our failures. He gave his daughter the formula? Without the usual preparations and procedures? I suppose he thought he was qualified to oversee all that, despite my strict instructions that staff weren't to partake, or he had other motivations.
It could have been a gift from a father to try to buy his daughter's affection. Or her forgiveness. He gave his daughter one of our higher-quality formulas, and she couldn't handle it. When he realized what he shunned, realized that he couldn't hide it from us, he took one formula and fled.
What did Legend Eidolon and, um, what did they say? They don't know. I suppose we could tell Eidolon. He reacted badly when his powers informed him of our other plans and projects.
How should I stop him? The sample he took, F-1611. It tends to give protection powers. No!
I will not condone the loss of life for your ulterior motives! I will not let monsters walk free to profit from the fear they spread! You're right. I must be more shaken by Nantan's betrayal than I thought.
Forget I said anything. You realize what this means, don't you? That we're no longer doing more good than Eva? No.
I still feel we're working for the forces of good. This means we simply need to step up our plans. If we're going to forward with the Terminus Project, we're going to... We need to advance the overall efforts with Cauldron, and we need the Protectorate effort to succeed on every count.
Or we need your project to work out. Or that. We still have to find the right individual. Or make him.
Well, in a leadership position... Kiro said the same thing, and I think we'll both agree that he was wrong. Oh, okay. I'm not that I'm majorly grateful that you're giving me the pep talk, but you said you were kind of early, and I think we're done here.
Compiling's done. I have to find it further, try to give you some additional features, but coding the hardware I'm working with are so tight and structured, I think it'd do more harm than good. I think I understand what you mean. Thanks for this.
It's already uploaded. Yeah, it was my pleasure, really. I'm going to go, then. You and I should talk again sometime.
You can tell me if you've figured out your specialty, and if you're leading a team. Maybe next time you're back to the bay. Maybe. I turned and opened the window, so far out accelerating as my body transformed into a massive light.
I just ended up out over the ocean, touching down on a remote foil platform. Legend, I thought you were occupied in Brockton Bay. Jack escaped. That's really unfortunate.
Quite. Doctor, Alexandria, Eidolon, Numberman, Tessa? Jack escaped. What about the other nine?
We suspect that Bonesaw and Siberian also escaped with Hookwolf as a new member of their group. It's unusual for you to show any interest in what's going on outside of the realm of your business and research. Any reason for the curiosity? Hard to keep track of what goes on beyond these walls sometimes.
There are some things that concern me. Is this tied to why you came here today? Yes. Let me begin by saying that there's apparently a precog in Brockton Bay that's pretty damn certain the world's going to end shortly.
Precogs are notoriously unreliable. I tell many of my customers that when they express interest in seeing the future. You're right. Most precogs are vague.
They have to be because the future is vague. But all reports point to this precog being very specific. Jack Slash was mentioned as the catalyst for an event that occurs in two years. More specifically, she said that this occurs if Jack escaped Brockton Bay alive, which he did.
What do you mean when you say the world ends? 33 to 96% of the population dies in a very short span of time. I assume the aftermath of this scenario leads to more deaths in the long run. Depending on the circumstances of death, the demise of even one in three individuals would lead to further casualties.
Lack of staff for essential services in key areas, health, atmospheric, and ecological effects of decomposition on a massive scale. Destabilize societal infrastructure. The best case scenario is that Earth's population drops steeply over 20 years until it settles to a 48.6% of where it currently stands. 3,396,91,803,504.
You're right. That's the best case scenario? It's unlikely it will occur. The bare minimum of people who would have to die, there couldn't be any bodies, and there wouldn't be anything left unattended that could cause uncontrolled fires or nuclear incidents.
If I were to ballpark a number talking about events that could kill one-third of nearly all of the world's population, I'd say roughly 72% of the Earth's population are likely to die. More than half of those individuals would survive, would survive, would die over the following 20 years, and more than half of those who remain would die in 10 years following that, keeping in mind that those are estimates, of course. Of course. Precogs are unreliable.
I'm so missing this girl doesn't know exactly how this occurs. No, her employer didn't say anything on this subject. We'll take measures. Evacuate.
Also, for automatic shutdown controls on power groups and nuclear facilities, with the Endbringers out there, it would be sensible to do it anyways. We can reduce the potential damage. Unless the numbers that Precog provided are already accounting for us having a conversation and taking the extra measures. If she doesn't view the future, it's very possible she saw this meaning and everything that followed.
Inner manners. We'll do it anyways, of course. Let's remember, the numbers already pointed to an endgame situation at the 23-year mark. If the Endbringers continue doing the damage they've been doing at the current rate, things won't be sustainable.
That's without considering the possibility that they achieve something big in the interim. You're saying we already are facing the end of the world and end of the world situation? And this is just accelerating the timetable? Yes.
Any measures we take are still vital. They'll help here with this scenario, but if it never occurs, it will still help against the Endbringers. Are we assuming that the Endbringers are at the core of this end of the world scenario? Likely, but let's not rule anything out.
Provided this is really occurring. We can't afford to say it's not. You have Precogs among your staff and customers. Some.
I can ask them about this end of the world scenario. Good. Eidolon, you want to try your hand at it? Yes, my power lets me.
It only gives me what I think I need, not what I want. We need all the help we can get. Let's see if we can't figure out how this happens so we can stop or mitigate the damage. There's a lot of capes out there who, with the finger classification, get the word out, call in favors, offer favors.
Anything to get more information on this. Speaking of great minds, there was another point I wanted to address. This came up during my stay in Rock and Bay. Alexandria, I expect you've read the reports already.
You didn't seem surprised when I talked about the Precog. Enter End of the world scenario. You've probably already read it on my notes. Yeah, I read what you provided, but I'm not sure what you're referring to specifically.
Siberian. Oh. I'll explain for those of you who lack access to PRT records or the time to pursue them. Siberian is not a fruit-class cape.
Siberian is a master, and the striped woman is a projection. I caught a glimpse of the man who was grading the projection before they were treated. And? And he had Culledron's mark tattooed on the back of his left hand, the swan on his right.
What? You don't think that was William Manton? Why the mark on his right hand? I don't know.
It doesn't fit on a lot of levels. A top parahuman researcher becoming one of the nine? It happened to Alan. It's a mannequin.
There was nothing on the records. Nothing saying it was a president, and he had the places of quarantine protocol where it was going to affect. He could have stolen someone's identity. True.
We have confirmation of his, confirmation he's alive. We suspect it. We made assumptions, and we're way off base. That's what concerns me.
See, we've been going by the assumption that William Manton has been continuing his work, experimenting on human subjects, giving them powers with physical mutations as a side effect, then releasing the victims back into society with Culledron's symbol tattooed on their bodies. Or at the very least, that's what you told us. You're implying I lied? I looked at the timelines.
They're not likely that William Manton could, it's not likely that William Manton could be conducting experiments to give some poor girl tentacles in Illinois at the same time Siberians busy attacking people in Miami. We have no need for human experimentation. The number man can calculate the odds of success for a given formula. Maybe that's the case.
But just who is conducting the experiments on human subjects? Who knows enough about Culledron to tattoo or brand them with a mark while simultaneously having access to these kinds of resources? It's not us, and the dealer is in our custody now. And you don't know anything about how William Manton is connected in any of this?
I'm as mystified as you are. If it would assuage your suspicions, you can examine this complex. You and I both know this place is far too large to explore in one lifetime. True.
And if we were to surmise that you're the culprit here, there's nothing saying you couldn't have your doormaker maintain a path to an alternate reality where you have captives stashed away. We're seeing persons' cases that we can link to the case that we freeze if you're simply snatching them from another reality and depositing them into our reality when you're done. I don't know what I can say to convince you. You trust me, don't you?
I've turned myself in, um, gymnastics. I can look at a person's face and body language and know if they're lying. And I can tell you, uh, tell you the doctor's telling the truth. Right.
We're okay, dude. I'm sorry to accuse you. It's understandable. This situation doesn't make a lot of sense.
I can't add anything here. My power's not volunteering anything that can help to solve this particular mystery. Guess we have yet another answer question on our hands. More than one.
William Manton and his link to Siberian, that tattoo on his right hand, are end-of-the-world scenario, and the Rojack plays catalysts too many to count. None of this has to be addressed today. Why don't you go home? We'll consider the situation and come up with a plan and some likely explanations.
Eidolon, you want another booster shot? Probably. Mother and bring her back coming up. Best find me top form.
I stood and left without a farewell, heading back to New York. I descended on the rooftop of the NYC protectorate office's living, Kidwin, and Arms Master software. I scanned the conversation. We have no need for human experimentation.
The number man can calculate the odds of success for a given formula. Huh. Lie detected. Who knows enough about Cauldron to tattoo or brand them with a mark while simultaneously having access to these kinds of resources?
It's not us. Lie detected. And you don't know anything about William Manton or how he's connected to any of this? I'm as mystified as you are.
Lie detected. I can tell you the doctor is telling the truth. Lie detected. I can't add anything here.
My power's not volunteering anything that can help solve this particular mystery. I guess we have yet another unanswered question on our hands. Oh, bam! Lie detected.
Oh, goddammit. A hunt or two. Either submerge or behemoth, if they stick to pattern. Loosters aren't cutting it anymore.
I'm getting weaker. Powers are taking longer to reach their peak and their maximum strength is the way it used to be. If this keeps up, then I won't be able to offer anything during this into the world scenario. We'll find a solution.
You were too calm. I was worried you'd missed my warning. Very clever, burning the words into the paper in front of me. Thank you.
Was I convincing? You managed to find skepticism over this apocalypse scenario. Well, that's the most important thing. He's suspicious.
He knows our suspects. Uh, we've been lying to him. He knows our, you know, suspects. Unfortunate.
Will he expose us? No, I don't think he will. But he may distance himself from us to lower the number of opportunities we have to see his doubt for what it is. In the worst case scenario, we'll explain the circumstances, explain our plan.
He won't like it. But he'll understand. If the Terminus project is a success, the end of the world isn't a concern. And I believe we will succeed.
Provided we come up with a solution to the bigger, more basic problems we're facing, or we'll simply find ourselves in the same circumstances after we've got through all the trouble. The Protector is proving to be a failure on that front. Recent events haven't given me much hope in that regard. So that leaves only my end of things.
Well, and if he fails? Ever the pessimist. This revelation about the possible end of the world has decimated our project timeline. We don't have time to prepare or pursue anything further.
And if we assist him? If we assist him, there's no point. In short, he doesn't even know it. But everything rests on his shoulders.
We'll manage. Hey, folks. Sorry for a few technical difficulties. Anyway, yeah, I hope you all enjoyed this one.
My name is Matt. I'm the one who adapted this. And I played Noblog, Manton, and Marquis in this episode. Hi, I'm Chris.
I played Legend of Coil. I'm Baron. I played Hero, Manpower 2, Numberman, and Prazen of the Night Saints. I'm Baron, and I already closed my tablet.
I played Brandish. Thank you. Brandish, Bigot, and Siberian. Hi, I'm Mary Grace, and I played Alexandria, Panacea, Evan, and Kidwin.
Hey, I'm Flora. I play Dr. Dragon, and Lady Bow time. Thank you all for listening, and we will see you next week.
Bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-bye. Oh, wait, there's one more thing we gotta do. What? Happy- Fuck that shit.
Black, British, boo-bye-bye-bye. Bye-bye. Bye-bye. Looking forward to something.