"Is he awake yet?" I asked the moment I teleported back into our living room, Cheshire riding on my back.

"I can wake him." Panacea answered.

"Not yet," Cheshire told her as she slid off my back. "We have to listen to this first." She held up the recording device we had found in the safety deposit box just twenty minutes ago.

As much as I want to get back out there and fight whoever made those weird bubble things and the giant blade forest the Kaiser was making around Shantytown as gang members and Protectorate attacked him, we had something to take care of that was arguably just as important. But as soon as we were done here, I would fly straight to The Docks and make sure my father was okay.

"What is it?" Panacea asked.

"I don't know just yet, but whatever it is Max seems to think it's important enough to bargain his life for, among other things." Cheshire took us over to the table and sat down. Panacea sat next to her. I, now being a little too big to comfortably sit in the chairs, chose to stand.

"We ready?" Cheshire asked, reaching for the play button. We nodded once and she hit the button.

"Hello," Max Clay's voice said out of the device's speaker. "This is Will Holden operating under the alias of Max Clay for now and the foreseeable future. It's October 21st, 2004. My recording device is a wire I'm wearing that is transmitting back to a separate device. In the event I am to die, this recording will get sent to several people. If you are listening, that means you're one of those people. That said, here is evidence file number three.

"I got the only lead on the boss I probably ever get. It's risky, and on short notice, but if I pass it up I might never learn. The boss who paid my bail and has been forcing me to learn to, well, to fight parahumans. Just like the ones that exposed me, they had said. But I know honeyed words when I hear them. After all, that was my job before all this crap happened to me." The was the sound of a car door slamming and then the sounds of a busy street and car flying by.

"I'm approaching the hotel right now, they're hosting some event so it should be easier to slip in and get where I need to go. I just need to trick the front desk into giving me a room key. I'm going to hush up on the details now and assume you get the picture. Can't be attracting attention by talking to myself now can I?"

The sound changed as he entered a building, the distinctive sound of a electronic doorbell playing as the door opened. We listened intently as he got the lady behind the desk to give him a new key card for the room he wanted. He did this by paying someone fifty bucks to distract the lady when he answered his phone, which he did as soon as she asked him for some important information. I presume he took the moment to check her computer for the right answer.

There was more walking and the sound of elevator music before Cheshire hit fast forward. If anyone would know where to stop it would be her. She released the button and the sound of shuffling came from the recorder.

"Come on, come on," Max, or Will now I guess, mumbled under his breath. "If I have to search the whole freakin Presidential Suite just to find some dirty on this guy I'm not going to happy. Can't even find his real name. ' ', fakest name ever."

There was a few minutes of more shuffling around, more covert searches and the ruffling of papers when Will suddenly swore under his breath and started running somewhere. The sound of a door closing was heard just as Will stopped moving.

"Here we are Mr. Archer," A distinctly high-class British accent said. "Now that we're in the comfort of your room, would you like to discuss that small problem I've been trying to talk to you about all night?"

"Not yet Carson," A curt man's voice answered, Mr. Archer I guessed. "Tell me the passphrase first."

"As you say, sir, 'Adkins S. Montgomery is Ragnarok'."

"Good, you may continue." There was the sound of a clinking glass and the sound of a liquid being poured into something.

"Well sir, I simply was questioning your spending in regards to The Sentient."

"What about it?"

"Sir, as much hope as we have for The Sentient, the kind of spending is going to bankrupt the company."

"Not overnight it won't," Mr. Archer responded.

"Ah, true sir, but in a matter of years, it will. The Sentient are an enormous strain on your checkbook, and I advise you reconsider this recent purchase. After all, all the money you put into that Kinder gas of yours wasn't cheap."

"Your advice is appreciated Carson, but unwanted. Proceed with the purchase as ordered."

"But sir, you are going to kill the company."

"Quite honestly Carson? Fuck the company."

"I do beg your pardon!"

"Carson, I don't give a damn about this company anymore. It exists solely to fund The Sentient, once they have completed their purpose I'll have no need for it anymore."

"Mr. Archer," Carson stressed. "I worked with your father to help build this company, and when he passed it on to you I promised I would help you maintain it and grow. Have you already forgotten that? I was there for you when you triggered, and covered for you when you were out in costume, and there for you again when you met Adkins for the first time. But ever since-"

"It doesn't matter!" Mr. Archer yelled, the sound of a glass shattering a moment later. "I don't give a damn about my father, or this company, or fucking Adkins! All that matters is The Sentient."

"I see sir," Carson said in a defeated tone. "Then, might I suggest you reconsider your goal for The Sentient?"

"For what reason?"

"Well sir, while your goal of taking over one of those cities is certainly possible with the plan you've laid out, holding on to it is another matter entirely. If it were a cape, they might condemn the area, but these are normal humans. As soon as you have a grip on a city, the military is going to come in and take it from you."

There was a soft laugh from Archer. "Normal humans fixing what parahumans can't. I can almost live with that ending."

"Sir? Do you actually want The Sentient to succeed?"

Archer paused a long time before answering. "Of course I do, but I don't think it matters in the end now does it? Either it all works out or it goes down in flames. But no matter which way, I've made my mark on the world. My perfectly human mark."

"Archer, do you expect me to stand by and let you throw your life away for a cause you don't even care if succeeds?"

"Frankly Carson, I don't expect you to do anything. I want this to work, and at the same time, I don't care if it doesn't. Because even if our plans are somehow stopped, I will have given hope to all the humans in the world. And if me, my father's company, and The Sentient themselves have to burn to get there, so be it."

"Well Mr. Archer, I am bound by duty to stop you. Your father wouldn't let me do otherwise."

There was a pause from Archer, then he said, "No, I suppose he wouldn't." Suddenly, a gunshot rang out loudly from the recorder followed by a heavy thump.

"I'm sorry Carson," Archer stated. "You were a good family friend, but I don't have room for friends anymore."

Cheshire reached out and hit the stop button. She glanced up at me and said,

"There isn't anything else."

"So… That's him?" I asked. "That's the person responsible for all of this?"

"I… don't know," Cheshire said with a frown. "My power wasn't working during that entire exchange."

"What?" I asked, shocked.

"I don't know it was just… off." She said weakly.

"Like when they use the passphrase?"

"No," she answered with a shake of her head. "When they use the passphrase it's like my power comes to a complete stop, screeching to a halt. Those people just didn't exist as far as my power was concerned. Every attempt I made to try and understand them only lead to my power getting redirected elsewhere." Cheshire paused and considered something for a moment.

"Wait, you can hear the passphrase can't you?" Cheshire said shooting me an odd look.

"Uh, yes?" I said, unsure of how to answer.

"That name, Adkins, it has something to do with it doesn't it?"

"Yeah, its part of a whole name, along with a statement of who that person is." I figure that would probably be the easiest way to communicate it. Besides, every time I hear it I feel magic surge inside of me and that could quickly get annoying, if useful. I would ask Cheshire about it, if I thought she would be able to parse through all the magic details.

"Hmm," Cheshire said thoughtfully. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she poured more brain power into it. "Adkins. Adkins. What's the rest of the name?"

"Adkins S. Montgomery," I answered. Cheshire quirked her lips.

"There is something there, barely enough to notice. I can hear the name, and if I wasn't paying attention I might not even notice that it was resisting my power. What is the second half?"

"Is Ragnarok," I told her as I felt more curious as she worked through it.

"There it is again," Cheshire said, a little bit of annoyance creeping into her voice. It's small, something that would only be noticed if someone was paying attention to it. It must be…"

"Uh, Cheshire," Panacea suddenly said, almost surprised me as she had been quite the whole time. "What is it?"

Cheshire let out a frustrated sigh. "Alright, straight guesswork, no power involved, it's some sort of Stranger/ Trump cape. Someone who's name is Adkins Montgomery, and someone who is also R- Ah fuck!" Cheshire suddenly grabbed her head. Instinctively Panacea reached out to touch her, but Cheshire waved her off.

"No, I'm fine," She said bitterly. "Alright, that proves it. It is some sort of Stranger/Trump power linked to those two terms. There can be a lot of different ways to think of Ragnarok. And there can be more than one Adkins Montgomery in the world. But there can only be one person who is both, and that is how the power takes effect." Cheshire let out another sigh. "But again, that is just me using normal deductive abilities, so don't think of it the same way as my normal deductions."

"No, it makes sense," I said with a nod. "But it really only raises more questions."

"Fucking tell me about it," Cheshire complained. "Can we just forget this for a moment, I risk giving myself a Thinker headache just by having each part of the phrase in the same stream of conscious thought."

"Alright," I said, feeling a little disappointed that we couldn't continue this. It was all very interesting, and the idea it might put us right at the very centre of this whole Sentient nonsense made me a little hopeful. Max's, er, Will's paranoia paid off. Speaking of which…

"I think it's time we had a talk with 'Will'." I stated.

***

Max's, or Will's, or whatever his name was, cell was some sort of bio-creation Panacea whipped up. It sat in the corner of my basement, reaching to the ceiling. It white, wood-like substance of some sort. Maybe ivory? Could she make ivory out of plants? Well, it would hold him anyway.

Panacea reached through the cell bars and touched Will on the cheek for a brief second before pulling back, his eyes flying open a moment later. He paused and looked around as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. He rubbed his eyes a bit before letting out a stretch.

"I take you've probably heard that recording by now." Will stated when he finally came to terms with where he was.

"We have," I said evenly. I wasn't sure why, but Cheshire was letting me lead this one. Maybe she was still suffering from whatever that was a little bit ago. I wasn't complaining though, it liked being able to confront him on this. "What else do you know?"

"Oh, what don't I know?" Will said, taking a sitting position. "But before we get into that, let's discuss my deal."

"You're deal?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "You lead a terrorist organization, ordered the death of one of my friends, and you think you get a deal? After already playing your trump card?"

"You know," Will said thoughtfully. "I always wondered about that expression, because even if I've played my trump card, that doesn't change the fact that I might still have a four of a kind in hand."

"What are you getting at?" I asked seriously.

"What I'm saying Nova, is that I've been a lot of things in life and the labels you put on me are not the first or the last." He leaned forward and gave me an intense look. "I've been a college dropout, a failed father, a used car salesman, a thief, a con man, and prison gang leader. And when the man you now know as Mr. Archer pulled me out of prison and put my talents to use, I became a motivational speaker for the cause of humanity. Not long later I was in charge of Boston's recruitment campaign. After that, I became head of The Sentient's Brockton Bay conspiracy. And if you really want to pin the death on me, I was also the man who ordered the death of Rune. However, with every single one of those roles I've played, I've always done it to survive. But there is one thing I've had the potential to be for years." He held out a hand symbolically. "A man about to help someone else kill dozens of parahumans to impose some strange hybrid of the French Reign of Terror and Stalinism."

For the first time since I've encountered him, and actual frown overtook the perpetual smug expression on his face. His gaze fell slightly, only for his smug look to return a moment later. However, it didn't seem quite as natural as it was a moment ago.

"You see, it's all great sitting at the top of your own citywide gang and conspiracy. It was even great to tell people about our cause, the cause of making humanity great again. To make humanity important in spite of capes, just like the Thinkers that put me away." Will let out a small laugh. "You know, that is actually the line they used when trying to recruit me?

"But I'm getting off topic. I've been in the game too long to expect my position, regardless of how I felt about it, to actually stay to me. To actually think the people in charge cared enough about me to not have me killed. One day I might make a mistake, I might say the wrong thing to the wrong person, they might want to rotate my ever ageing body and get a fresh face, or I might get captured by the PRT and Archer won't think I'm worth the trouble of saving and we'll just have me killed. Either way, I was doomed to fail the moment I was sprung from my prison cell. But I wasn't about to take it sitting down.

"I start pushing for information, which is how the recording you heard came to be. I sought to know the very things Archer didn't want people to know for the express reason I wanted to know them for. And I learned so, so many things. That recording? You might have noted it was evidence file number three. There are thirteen in total with all sorts of juicy details. And all I ask is permission to remain in your specific custody for the foreseeable future."

"That… was really long," I said dryly.

"Sorry," Will said with a shrug. "Monologues have sort of been my job for the last couple of years. It's a force of habit."

"Anyway," I said, moving past that, "What can you have that could be valuable enough to justify us keeping you around. Not only did you kill my friend and part take in a massive conspiracy that is still ravaging the city, but you're also kind of annoying. It is really not worth my time."

"Not worth your time, huh?" Will asked curiously. "Then I suppose you don't want to know about our capes?"

"Doesn't that go against the human supremacy thing," I countered. He gave me another shrug.

"True, but we have to train our men to be prepared for everything. And I mean that in the most literal sense, as we are training normal men to fight capes. So let's just say that the training is all not all that kind to those unlucky enough to be a foot soldier. I've learned of over thirty people triggering during training, and those are just the ones I know about. On top of that, because the 'morals' we 'taught' them, almost all of them went to join the Protectorate. In fact, no small portion of the PRT's Think Tank comes from Thinkers we made. I know we've cut ties with most of them, but there are always those few…" He trailed off.

"And you expect us to take care of you in the meantime, and we're supposed to think you're not going to try to get free at any point after that?"

"Free?" Will laughed. "Nova, I haven't tasted freedom since I accidentally got my high school sweetheart pregnant around twenty years ago. And frankly, I'm not sure I really care about it anymore."

I didn't have a response to that, so I just turned and looked a Cheshire. Her expression was hard to read, some mix of incredible interest and frustration.

"I think it's worth it," she said. "If you want, I'll stay here and learn what I can while you go out and see what you can do about the city."

I nodded and looked at Panacea. "Okay, but I could use some backup."

"Me?" She asked, a little surprised.

"Yes," I said with a nod, giving her a little smile. "There are still plenty of other gang members to hit, and I'm ready for this day to be over."

***

A/N: It is equal parts annoying and fun to write a character who enjoys making and giving monologues. Aside from that Max, or Will, is a smug asshole. It is his resting expression for almost everything he is feeling. He has used it so much in the role for The Sentient that he has learned to use it no matter what emotion he is feeling. Sometimes he uses it as a mask, sometimes he uses it as a coping mechanism, sometimes he uses it honestly. There aren't a lot of things that make him drop that demeanor.

That said, there was a line I wanted to include but didn't see a place to put it without ruining the flow of the dialogue, so I'm just going to put it at the end here as a really short omake or snippet:

"Wow," I said. "Do you have any other personality trait than smug asshole one hundred percent of the time?"

"Trust me," Cheshire said, interrupting him before he could speak. "It is his natural state of being."

Finally, there might not be a chapter tomorrow as I go in for surgery in a couple hours and I'll probably be too out of it to get a new one written in time.