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Chapter 140: 12

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Forging a Waifu Harem by BatRou-Dawg

Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Supernatural & Sci-Fi, Words: 238k+, Favs: 226, Follows: 230, Published: Dec 29, 2022 Updated: Oct 30, 2023

15Chapter 12

[Cauldron Base]

"This damn toaster-weirdo." Alexandria muttered to herself as she removed her helmet and massaged her temples.

She had worked so hard- focused her bottomless font of physical and mental energies for decades on end to preserve humanity… only for her to arrive at this point: The world hanging in the balance. And the one person who seemed to be in the best position to tip the scales was… a Tinker with a profound fixation on toasters, robots, AIs and researching for a way to make it possible for all of the above to achieve sexual climax.

"Magos goddammit." She groaned again as she switched from massaging her temples to palming her face.

In the headache-inducing pure white room with its pure white round table, the latest meeting with all of Cauldron's notable members in attendance. The entire Triumvirate, the Number Man, Contessa, and Doctor Mother herself. It was fairly uncommon for them to be all together in one place at a time- what with Cauldron's goals and interests spanning literal dimensions apart. Now they were all gathered, deciding the fate of all of humanity as they bickered over the same subject as PHO keyboard warriors did: An infuriating robot-fetishist named Magos who also happened to Tinker up a giant mecha capable of beating away Behemoth in a straight fight less a few days ago.

"No, this changes everything." Legend- or 'Keith' as he was known without his blue and white mask- spoke as he tapped a finger at the after-action report

"Does it really?" Doctor Mother calmly challenged his statement- a dark eyebrow raising on her dark skin. "This has always been the plan, has it not? Setting up an environment where powerful and high utility parahumans can rise? The Slaughterhouse 9, Teacher, Glastig Ulaine, The Number Man..."

Eyes swivelled over to Kurt who just shrugged at the mention of his moniker before going back to his laptop.

"... a markedly powerful Tinker is only par for course." She finished. "Cauldron can make use of him, yes. But this is hardly the game-changer you make it out to be. Magos gathered immense funds from his viral videogames, and simply did what any Tinker would when given enough resources: He let loose."

"That he did." Keith conceded to her, "But you're forgetting one aspect of Magos' Tinkering: Scale. We have never had someone achieve something on this scale, and definitely not as fast. Dragon, with all the resources afforded to her, took years to climb to where she is now. Magos had to gather his own resources, and yet his growth and influence seems to increase exponentially. If we had given the same amount of resources to other highly-rated Tinkers, do you think that they could have tinkered something to beat back Behemoth like Magos did in three weeks?"

Rebecca knew that they wouldn't.

"We're also nearing the critical mass of parahumans faster than previously theorised." Kurt supplied- his voice as dispassionate as the numbers he was so attuned to, "All the data… all the numbers project that the inherent nature of parahumans and their unavoidable effects on society will cause a steep decline in population within the next few years. In one year, 49.47% chance of it happening. Two years, 91.62%. Three, 99.9999%. We're just counting down the days before the first domino falls and triggers the collapse."

"And you only inform us of this now?" Rebecca hissed. She had been meticulous with the details- almost obsessively so- when she first presented the idea for the PRT just so that they could avoid this exact scenario. An eight step program to integrate the once few parahumans, who were unstable products of trauma and stress, into society. She had pinned down the key sociological fulcrums on which they could leverage society at large, the projected issues and their solutions, and crunched the numbers with the then-young Number Man.

"Well…" The now middle-aged Number Man drew out the word, "this is the first full Cauldron meeting I've attended since confidently arriving at this conclusion."

Rebecca's eyes momentarily caught the reflection of her face in her helmet as it rested on the table in front of her. Graceful, age-defying features holding earthy brown eyes and framed by her long flowing black hair. So much time had passed since she had first put on that helmet; and yet, the reflection was still of the same young hispanic woman who was barely out of her teens even after three long decades of endless struggles… Struggles that were hovering perilously close to being all for nothing.

"If a societal collapse is inevitable, then we introduce a stabilising force in society." Doctor Mother spoke in a contemplative tone- thinking about the issue deeply, "Not too strong as to remove the dominoes altogether like how an unleashed Dragon would completely pacify Earth-Bet, but just enough to keep things stable as we keep laying dominoes in the hope that we'll have the right ones needed to kill Scion in the end. Needs must… Magos is our best option."

And there it was. Their 'only hope.' Rebecca felt it in her bones- this conversation was headed for the same direction as any conversation that had that red-robed lunatic as the main subject: Straight off a cliff and into a pit of depraved absurdity.

"Is there a Path to recruiting Magos into Cauldron?" Their leader asked Contessa who immediately responded.

"Path to Recruiting Magos into Cauldron: 420 Steps."

Relatively and suspiciously short.

"Does it involve playing to the toaster-weirdo's gynoid/AI fetish?" Rebecca asked, despite already knowing the answer. She didn't even need Path to Victory to know what it was. After all, one only needed to know even the most cursory amount about Magos to know that the answer was…

"Yes, most of the steps in that path revolve around it." Contessa confirmed, and Rebecca sighed in dismay.

"Earth- every earth- is about to be destroyed within two decades, and it still boils down to him being able to stick his dick into some robot's sockets."

"That is the quickest path to him." the Thinker reassured her and the others, "For contrast, Path to Recruiting Magos into Cauldron without playing to his gynoid/AI fetish: 5180 Steps."

Rebecca sighed again. She wasn't even surprised anymore. Disappointed, yes; but hardly surprised. In addition to the unrestrained transhumanism and devout worship of technology that were core beliefs in the Tinker's identity, it was also almost impossible to discuss Magos without broaching the topic of how he shamelessly flaunts his fetish for everything synthetic intelligence.

And any attempt to exploit his so-called weakness was thwarted by the simple fact that no one knew how to do so. He was a whirlpool of insanity that sucked everyone down to his level before handily beating them with his extensive experience in robo-degeneracy.

Even Dragon was still unsure how to deal with his exotic fetish, and it said something about Magos when even the AI who he lusts after was unable to fully comprehend him.

"I am still ambivalent about how I feel about AIs." Doctor Mother shared, "But this is negligible price to pay- especially if those AIs end up subservient to him- they can help with saving humanity. What about his identity? Is there anything new to learn that we can leverage from that?"

"Nothing." Contessa responded- navy blue eyes glancing at them for just a second before returning to her game and leaving a whisper for them to think about, "Not even he remembers anymore."

The room fell silent at the implication.

"I think I know who he was." Eidolon- David- spoke up for the first time in the meeting and garnered the attention of everyone in the room apart from Contessa.

"Magi Tinker: Involves problems of self… Controller Tinker: Involves isolation, detachment or depression." He enumerated the two specific subclassifications of Tinkers that Magos fell under, "Chronic illnesses had left him bedridden since childhood. Abandoned by everyone he knew, he triggered from the isolation, and made it his goal to somehow tinker himself the affection that he had craved."

Rebecca stiffened in her seat and turned towards him- a deep bitter frown on her face.

"He's not Hero." She whispered- tone of voice ice cold. Just the comparison that he had drawn between Magos and their fallen comrade's humble origins that were so similar to her own… The memory of a blond man in golden power armour was still fresh in her mind as well as the time he belonged in.

A time when the Triumvirate was still the Quadrumvirate. A time when the world was still bright and full of hope. A time when Cauldron- and she- were still doing more good than evil. A happier time, a better time than what they had now… Hero deserved better than being compared to that kooky degenerate.

"No, he's not." David admitted- meeting her stare, "But he is the Tinker that Hero would have been if Cauldron hadn't come to give him a vial... Hero had us, Magos had no one. This may be our second chance in more ways than one."

However, Rebecca remained unconvinced… and very angry. But still, she reigned it in, pushed it down and went back to the discussion at hand.

"This is absurd!" She instead decided to remind them all, "We're now acting as whoring out the world's scant population of AI just so that we can exchange them for this one Tinker's fetishistic fascination with them in exchange for his cooperation."

"I'd take absurd options over inhumane ones anyday." Keith professed, and Rebecca refrained from sharing looks with Doctor Mother or Eidolon. Despite being a founding member of the PRT as Legend, Keith still didn't know that Cauldron was responsible for the Case 53s, even after all these years as part of Cauldron. Rebecca had made peace with the fact that he would likely hate all of them for hiding such a thing from him for so many years. Which makes this current issue even more frustrating…

"It just rubs me the wrong way, how even attempting to deal with this maniac is driving us to make a joke of ourselves- of what we do." She sighed, "The survival of humanity deserves more respect."

Contessa looked at her- navy blue eyes boring into Rebecca's brown ones.

"Our task requires us to do what is necessary, nothing less." She spoke solemnly… and Rebecca just sighed. She was right. Legend was asked to sacrifice his morality, Eidolon was asked to sacrifice his civilian identity, and now, she was being asked to sacrifice any notion of seriousness as they offered up virgin robots to the local toaster-worshipping cyborg magnate.

"Fine…" Rebecca finally relented to this crazy plan, "Let's get on with this farce."

"Dragon will also be more cooperative towards us if she is under Magos' influence." Contessa reassured her. To which, Rebecca raised an eyebrow.

"Was that why we practically handed Magos Dragon's fallen suit?" She ventured, "We're pushing the AI into Magos' hands in hopes that he'd control her?"

"She will voluntarily handle herself to him soon enough, and Magos' long-term view on the greater good will rub off on her." Contessa informed them.

"I stand corrected then." she deadpanned- sarcasm seeping into her voice, "We're pushing the AI into Magos' hands, because being turned into Magos' mewling sex pet will shift her moral compass enough to be willing to work with us."

"It will work." Contessa confirmed- free of sarcasm. "There are some holes in the Path regarding his toaster, however, both Dragon and the Dragonslayers are nothing but predictable."

"Of course…" Rebecca exhaled in utter disappointment as she felt her eye twitch. "Of course the Cum Toaster is a serious consideration to factor in all our decisions regarding Magos."

"Quite." The fedora-wearing Thinker nodded knowingly before tearing off three strips of paper from her dossier, quickly scribbling something on them and sliding them one by one across the table. One stopping right in front of Keith, the other stopping in front of David, and the last in front of Rebecca herself.

"These are your personal instructions to ensure that the debrief with Magos ends favourably for us all." Contessa elaborated as the three of them picked up their respective pieces of paper, "Whatever you do, keep your instructions to yourself until we meet again after. "

"Well, I suppose there is nothing else to do but hope the debrief goes smoothly." Doctor Mother nodded to the three of them with their instructions, "As the Americans say, 'The ball is in your court.' Door me, annex 5 extension 12."

The thin air folded out to reveal a portal beside her; and without even a backwards glance, she and Contessa walked through it. The portal shimmering shut behind them.

"Door me, my office." The Number Man muttered out loud as he stood up- thin air folding out to reveal a portal to his workstation. He glanced disinterestedly back at the rest of the table, "I'll just go and plug in Magos' cooperation into my equations, see how good Earths' chances will be then. I'll see you all in a few days."

It was just them- the Triumvirate- left now/ Rebecca glanced at David who glanced at Keith who glanced at her. Wordlessly they nodded to each other as they held their own scrap of paper with their instructions before dooring away. It was better to follow Contessa's advice on keeping their own instructions to themselves- it may just be the difference between life and death. Rebecca committed hers to memory.

Encourage and ensure Dragon attends the debrief. Cover for Magos as he covertly brings Dragon to an orgasm during the debrief. If trouble arrives, do your best to protect Magos from harm.

"I'm regretting this already…" Rebecca muttered to herself, but immediately took a second glance as she realised something very peculiar about her instructions.

Facilitate contact between the girl and the client, make sure the girl safely arrives at the client, prevent anything from disturbing them until business is concluded, extract payment for it. Sooner or later, with the former being preferable…

Wait… was she a goddamn pimp now?

She felt her eye twitch again. Yes, it was official. Alexandria, triumvirate heroine, was now Mago's personal pimp of robots and AIs… Her distaste was likely not going anywhere.

"This damn toaster-weirdo…"

[Magos' Manufactorum]

One whole month. That was how long I've been on Earth-Bet by now.

It was difficult to imagine that I had initially started out in a disgusting meat-body- building a rickety shack at the edge of a landfill. But it was from that low point that I had set out to accomplish a great many things: a grand manufactorum constructed and consecrated, a growing army of servitors ready to tirelessly fabricate whatever I require, a multibillion dollar company built from scratch, a regal Knight-Atrapos that had now become a stalwart symbol of the might of the Adeptus Mechanicus, an Endbringer almost single-handedly driven off, four shapely gynoids at my beck and call, and a local AI that has climaxed twice so far under my ministrations.

But even then, it was just the start. Barely the start.

Heed: Manufactorum Annex 3 through 5 concluded and consecrated

Industrial Capacity stabilising at 677% of base capacity.

My manufactorum has grown to almost six times its original size at 3 football fields of factory floor being used…. and yet, it was still far from enough.

Not that it was difficult to expand when I employed {Servitors} instead of feeble meatbags as a workforce. A construction-servitor was worth more than 3 meatbag workers after all: Your average construction worker works 9-10 hours a day with breaks.

My servitors worked 24 hours without rest, suffered no loss of productivity from hunger or fatigue, had considerably more strength than a human, and coordinated perfectly with other servitors mainly due to me directing them all from my spot here on my Cogitator-Throne.

There were currently 191 such construction-servitors that danced to my Noospheric strings of data as they moved this way and that.

Head: 31% of Industrial Capacity unutilised

Servitors await Fabrication Edicts

That certainly was the question: 'What to fabricate?'

If I wished to win against Scion or even against the nations of meatbags on this Terra. I will require far more munitions, and far more Legio Cybernetica robots to expend such munitions onto my enemies. Each one more heavily armoured and armed with all the fearsome technology found in the Imperial… and I plan to produce such war robots by the thousands.

My army will reach that point one day soon. Stomping relentlessly across the world in so great a number that no amount of capes will be able to stop them. No, not when my Legio Cybernetica rains down enough deadly munitions and exotic energies to scorch an entire earth.

Chant current number of Castellax-class Robots. " I beeped my query at the manufactorum cogitators.

(2) Castellax-class Robots ready for awakening

Two did not make a robot legion, but when they were 14-feet-tall (4m) bipedal battle-automata with no fear and no mercy? When they had armour and shielding comparable to my Knight-Atrapos? When they had matter-disrupting {Power Fists} as hands, {Heavy Bolters} attached to their forearms, and an exotic weapon like {Torsion Cannons} attached to their shoulders? Each of these {Castellax-Class Robots} was more than a match for Lung. At least construction was going steady for the robot legion, as for what I need at this point in time..

Servitors, Initiate construction of Thunderhawk Transports.

The ability to ferry more forces and more equipment to far off locations was paramount. And until I could establish the Webway network or a 'safe' way to use Warp travel, I will have to settle for the airpower that the Thunderhawk Transports grant me.

By the Omnissiah, Fabrication Edict issued and heeded.

"Good morning, Master." Chloe-1 happily greeted me as she approached my cogitato-throne. Her pink lips were curled into a smile as she stopped right beside me. Her Mars-Red dress clinging deliciously to her lusciously-shaped figure which was just a step beyond what the best genetics humanity had to offer. Skin too soft and smooth, hair too silky, and a figure that will defy the centuries.

"Chloe." I nodded to the gynoid. "You have news for me?"

"We have some delays in our supply chain for our new products, master." Chloe explained with a wince- looking embarrassed to be delivering bad news as she blinked at me with her blue eyes, "Industrial-Servitors are conducting prayers as they wait for the inbound shipment of raw cotton that was scheduled to arrive two hours ago. I contacted the organic logistics company responsible for the delivery and they relayed that there was a… gastronomical issue with their trucking personnel due to contaminated food in their New Year's celebration spread."

Projected total delay in product delivery: 29.4 hours.

"Of course, it would be the organics who are slowing down the supply chain!" My modulated voice burbled in disgust, "We never should have hired them from out of state borders. I will need to talk to the mayor about this problem. Don't they know how high in demand these Fate Impact dakimakura covers are?! And the less said about how impatient the market is for their Astolfo-print and Venti-print boxers, the better! They- Wait a minute, I've seen this pattern of events from somewhere…"

Activating {Logis Acceleritas Mk. II}

This was intentional sabotage committed by The Elite.

Cross-referencing with recent, known activity of Elite-sponsored Capes… Suspicious activity detected in Elite-sponsored Stranger cape, JimCognito.

Aberrant spike in Lootbox purchases distanced from previously known paydays. LootBox purchases relocated from California servers to Pennsylvania servers where the HQ of the logistics company held their New Year's celebrations.

Anointing and Loosing infophages into the Noosphere.

Data absorbed…

Data hexed JimCognito's phone confirms: It was the Elite.

Manufacturing problems to disturb the business of their target Rogue fits The Elite's Modus Operandi…

Mechanicus' heavy fortifications prevent the Elite from physical intimidation. Mechanicus' legal documentation and filings prevent the Elite from leveraging the legal system against me… Mechanicus' sterling PR prevents smear campaign… The Elite now forced to attack the only vulnerable part of Mechanicus operations: the supply chain.

Conclusion: The Elite sent Stranger cape to begin systematic sabotage of Mechanicus operations via disruption of supply chain.

The Elite has started their war against the Mechanicus. Against me.

"So, the war has begun…" I contemplated aloud, "The Elite had their chance to back away, but had instead chosen to fire the first shot. Do they truly think they can win a war against the Adeptus Mechanicus? How foolish. Are they not aware how much machine-spirits aid in their pitiful lives? Machine-spirits that heed my command?"

Pulling up PHO private messaging function, I sent the head of The Elite a single message.

: I know what you did.

.AgnesCourt: What ever could you mean, Magos?

There was no more that needed to be said between us. Now, it was just violence.

"May the Emperor have mercy on your souls, meatbags." I murmured in prayer, "For the Omnissiah and I will show none."

"All servitors, stop what you're doing and pray with me." I commanded.

My Celestial Forge perk [Magos Aetheric] afforded me such forbidden knowledge and technology. One particular branch of it granted me the ability to wield the eldritch power known as {Scrapcode}- supernatural machine viruses that made even simple machines malfunction. Backed up with my two [Magos Designation] and [Binharic Weaving] perks, and I was a very powerful and fearsome Magos.

I began forming the {Scrapcode} in my mind. It was part actual computer virus and part supernatural, because having the supernatural warp-sorcery possess something real to latch onto? That only made it more dangerous and especially malicious.

Heed: Data-tethers at 98.9% maxload…

Blessing hexagrammic wards…

Arraying cogitator net in parallel-processing servo-mind conclaves…

Beseeching the Machine-God for strength…

Organising Hex-choirs…

Channelling the wrath of the Machine-God…

Heed! {Logis Acceleritas Mk. II} at 41% maxload !

Heed: Probability of permanent damage to [Cranial Implants] at 3.15151515151515151515% !

But it still taxed me greatly. My knowledge on the Warp still had a long way to go despite ravenously consuming all the data I could from the [Plecian Tome]. Even reinforced with the might of all the cogitators and my Celestial Forge perks, the {Scrapcode} that I held in my digital hands was like a great beast of myth- a digital horned devil rampaging and snarling as it refusing to be tamed. Its horns and claws furiously slashed away against the digital chains that I was using to guide it. But the strength and will of my machine-mind will not be found lacking! Not today!

{Scrapcode: Imp} rendered subservient

And just like that, the {Scrapcode: Imp} was partially tamed- bowing its horned head low to me as it acknowledged that my strength was superior to its own. It will obey me… for as long as I remain stronger than it. Which I certainly will be. I could feel the barely restrained malice exuding from the {Scrapcode: Imp}. It knows that I formed it for wicked deeds, and it hungered to commit them. Normally, such Scrapcode was to be used against a single machine- destroying it so completely as to prevent any repair unless it was thoroughly exorcised.

But that was not what I wanted for the elite: I did not want to destroy them. No, I wanted to make them suffer.

So… I let go of its digital chains. And with a screech of malicious glee, {Scrapcode: Imp} flew through the Noosphere like a demon out of hell- right at the Elite's systems that I had marked out for it.

" Witness your DOOOOOOM! " I screamed out in Binharic Cant.

"Your coffee machines will stop working. Your cars and transports will be experiencing a wave of inexplicable mechanical breakdowns- forcing you to walk on your inefficient meat appendages. Your phone batteries will run out faster than ever before. Your air conditioning systems will break down- forcing them to work in sweatshop conditions. All the videos you want to watch on the internet will buffer constantly and take three times as long to load! The waters of your toilets will rise when you flush! Your stovetops will malfunction, forcing you to eat disgustingly greasy takeout 3 times a day! Your stashes of saved porn will become hopelessly corrupted! Your word documents, spreadsheets and other programs will often fail to save and you will lose all your progress. Your credit cards will take 5 minutes of swiping before they are accepted- making you form a line of angry customers behind you. Your dating apps will always match you with the worst of humanity. Your refrigerators will turn off when you're not looking- spoiling your potato salads, rotting your eggs and cursing you with lukewarm coke and mountain dew!"

" Forever. "

" AHAHAHAHAHAHA! "

"Chloes, laugh with me!" I commanded, and the three hot blonde gynoids standing at the foot of my cogitator-Throne obeyed.

"Hahahaha~!"

We all laughed maniacally at the Elite's expense for a few more minutes before one of the Chloe's spoke up.

"Master, your appointment with the PRT will be in a few days." Chloe-2 reminded me- making me pause mid-laughter and focus my red optics on her.

"You mean my date with Dragon?" I clarified, "I trust that my {S.T.I.C.C.} has been polished?"

"Yes, master!" Chloe-3 chirped in affirmation.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" I laughed- hopping off my cogitator-throne, "It's time to make more of your sisters, get you all a set of {Slutty Skitarii} doctrina wafers, and run you all through some drills! Ready the Rites of Awakening for the {Castellax-Class Robots}! Load up on the sacred incense into the censers! Ready the procession servitors! The Adeptus Mechanicus will be going out into the city, and The Omnissiah will accept nothing less than all of Brockton Bay's fleshbags to be in awe at the incomparable swag of the blessed machine!"

"Yes, master!" the three of them beamed as I glanced towards the sacred toaster that sat on its pedestal.

"I'm sure Dragon will be delighted to see me bring the sacred toaster along." I spoke my thoughts out loud, "Also, I bet my old friend Armsmaster will be overjoyed to see me again as well!"

[Across the state]

In a cozy little manor's firelit living room, Tattletale gave a smug smile.

"It would be a shame if this video got leaked…" she said airily as she leaned back on the couch. Grue stood behind her with a pair of Coil's mercenaries flanking him as they all eyed the poor sap that was today's victim. Seated in an armchair across from her, the elected representative, one of the few people who made laws for the state, went ashen as he watched the video being played on the tablet in her hands.

"That's not me! No one will ever believe that's me!" the much older man with his toupee and runny red nose squealed while still in his blue bathrobes. The feeling of power… the knowledge that she had one over him… suffice to say that sometimes, she loved her job.

"Are you sure, Mr. Representative?" She hummed as her smirk grew wider, "I can assure you that Tinkers won't find any tampering with the video. I'm afraid that it is indeed a genuine video of you feverishly using a loli love doll. This video won't raise any eyebrows if the ban on loli love dolls were repealed by the next hearing. Just a little bump in your career… but if that law is still in effect? Well, I'm sure your replacement will be more willing to listen after seeing what the public does to you."

She glanced off to the side for a moment at Regent. His power worked just as well with sleeping targets as well as expected of a Master 8.

"You… you work for Magos, don't you?!" he pointed a fat finger at her, "That peddler of degeneracy is behind all this!"

"Peddler of degeneracy?" Tattletale scoffed, "I'm not the one with the Jean Gunnhildr love doll in my closet, so save the moral speech about your chasteness for your voters, Mr. Representative. Can't say if you're right or wrong with your guess about our employer either. But what I can- and was hired to- say is 'You know how you're going to vote next, don't you?'"

The portly man slumped in defeat.

"It's… it's not up to just me."

"We know." Tattletale smiled as she slid forward a manila folder across the coffee table between them. "Don't worry about them, just worry about following the legislature outlined here. But while we're here. You could show us some of that legendary American North-east hospitality that you bragged about during your campaign and open your safe."

"Fine…"

"Boys." She glanced back at Grue and the mercenaries, "If you'll escort him to the safe, our local politician will generously reimburse us for our time and effort."

And as the dumb muscle hosited the man away, Tattletale fished out her phone. Her thumb hesitates on the keypad for a second or two before dialling her boss- her heart rate rising as the phone rang. The phone was barely past its first ring before he picked up.

"Three Representatives down, two more to go." She reported with a gulp.

"Good, keep up the momentum. Do not disappoint me." Coil's voice almost growled with relish, not even waiting for her response before ending the call with a click.

Tattletale couldn't help but feel a slight shiver of terror as she was reminded yet again that, nowadays, Coil was acting like a man possessed. She honestly was never as scared of Coil than she was right now. She had never seen him so aggressive and merciless- almost like a force of nature that was futile to try and stop. No, he was something even scarier than that: Coil was now a man that felt like he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. A man of focus, commitment and sheer fucking will.

But worst of all, she didn't know what happened.

People's intentions were the number one hardest thing for her power to decipher, it wasn't like a safe's keypad where her power could surmise the code just by looking at the wear and tear on the keys.

Deciphering the intentions of two different people with very unordinary mindsets and different Thinker abilities? Yeah, she learned from her mistakes with the whole 'Magos is turbo-gay' debacle. She can accept that her power was just not made for this, an unpowered individual's guess was as good as hers here.

And so, Tattletale was left to wonder as the million dollar question burned a hole in her thoughts.