Likelihood of death in ensuing crossfire? Moderately high.
…Was this how it was going to end for her? In a mexican standoff between an angry cyborg Tinker tired of gay propositions while ironically sitting on the world's largest and most sought after collection of cape man-ass pics, and an equally angry Gay-for-Pay teammate in skin-tight leather pants who just discovered that the 'pay' part wasn't going to happen because she got things horribly wro- less correct than usual?
"Wait-wait-wait! It was our boss who put everyone up for this!" Lisa yelped- waving both of her hands in front of her in the universal signal for stop.
"Oh yeah? Who is our boss anyway, Tats?" Brian scoffed and she could feel his narrowed eyes glare at her through his tinted helmet's visor. And Lisa didn't even need half a second to think about it before deciding that throwing Coil under the bus seemed to be the best course of action for herself.
"It-"
"!ENeSYXMPrJaKepJuBKxC!" Magos shrieked in some strange techno-gobbledegook language. Like the whines of a supercharged printer and the beeps of malfunctioning computers were mixed together and played in fast forward. It was a jarringly loud sound- enough to make everyone else wince as they and Lisa turned to look at him.
"I must go." The red-robed Tinker whispered as solemn as the grave- pointing a mechanical finger over his shoulder to where a floating holographic screen as large as a wide screen TV appeared. Wordlessly, he turned on his heel and marched back into his workshop- just as the floating holographic screen played a live news broadcast with a headline that made Tattletale's blood run cold in horror.
"BEHEMOTH ATTACKING CINCINNATI, OHIO"
[Cincinnati city outskirts]
Dragon's largest warsuit stood in a grassy open field right in the predicted path of the Endbringer.
In the distance, the grassy green hills of the Ohio countryside sat under an orange and purple hues of a late afternoon sky. Heroes, Villains, Rogues… Capes of all alignments dotted the countryside without discrimination as the Endbringer Truce dictates. Some huddled together on the grass, making introductions and talking team tactics. Shakers erected cover and shelters like from dirt and stone- hoping that it would be enough to shield against the Endbringer's wrath. Others flew overhead in flocks like human-shaped birds to warm up. Some PRT officers were even handing out sandwiches and water and wine. A last meal of sorts.
However, out of all those in attendance, there was one cape that was missing from the gathering. And so, in an effort to keep it that way, Dragon opened her comms and connected to the one person she wanted to speak to before the battle began.
"Magos." She spoke his name- her video feed of his workshop showing his red-robed frame with its metallic limbs. "I must advise you not to attend the Endbringer fight against Behemoth."
If she was pressed to choose, Dragon would say that she loathed Behemoth the least out of the three Endbringers. Behemoth was straight-forward. Big, direct and predictable in its strategies. Not like Simurgh whose song twisted people's minds long after she had been fended off, and not like Leviathan who had killed her father and sunk her home of Newfoundland into the Atlantic. But the great beast was still something to be scorned as much as it should be feared.
The cape community gave Behemoth the title of 'The Herokiller' for a reason after all.
1-in-3 capes die battling the 45-foot-tall cyclopean Endbringer, and that was on the most favourable of days where there was good synergy among the capes in attendance, the terrain offered great cover against his attacks and when Scion arrived earlier than expected. But on the other hand, there were certainly more than one instance where 9-in-10 capes died, and the city they fought so bitterly to protect was still reduced to a radioactive ruin. And it only served to drive in the fact that at the end of the day… Endbringers weren't something you fought to win, they were forces of nature that you fought to survive. Like an erupting volcano whose crater parahumans threw themselves into- all out of the hope that their scorched bodies could clog and slow the magma enough for Scion to arrive and postpone the eruption for another day.
And that was why she was having this conversation with Magos.
"As much as I look down on the unenlightened…" he began- looking up from whatever he was working on as the sounds of heavy machinery and prayer droned in the background, "... I still would prefer that they do not all die off because I did not intervene."
"You're too valuable of a Tinker to risk losing." she reasoned to him. "The world has a need for a Tinker capable of the mass-production of mundane technology like you are."
And one willing to do it so cheaply too. As cities burned and lives were ruined, people needed the materials and the means to rebuild. And it would be best if those could be easily acquired legitimately rather than them being forced into a life of crime: robbing and cannibalising their more fortunate neighbours just to survive. She would have done such mass-production herself if she wasn't so shackled by the rules that her father had hard-coded into her.
"I could argue that you are just as valuable of a Tinker." Magos countered.
"I'll be fine. I control my Dragonflight from afar- I won't be anywhere near the battlefield." She lied, smiling bitterly to herself. He was still ignorant to the fact of her true nature as an AI. That even if she did die on the field, she could just recover from a backup copy. She can die as many times as was necessary.
But before she could continue, three specific people floated down from the sky to land right in front of her large Dragon warsuit.
"If you would, Dragon, we'd like to speak with him as well."
"Magos?" Dragon muttered into the comms, "The Triumvirate would like to speak with you."
And with that brief warning, she opened the comms to three other people- projecting his screen so that Magos came face-to-face with the three legendary heroes. Dragon could only hope that he made a good first impression on them…
"Alexandria." The red-robed Tinker immediately greeted the first of the Triumvirate. The preeminent heroine was dressed in her iconic black costume replete with armour, face-concealing helm and billowing black cape.
"Magos." Alexandria greeted him back with a curt tone. "Your steadily-increasing influence over the economy of the north-american continent has been the subject of many… discussion. I'm glad to finally be able to talk with you."
"What can I say?" Magos shrugged. "EA Games makes pretty enjoyable games that everyone just can't stop playing."
The second of the Triumvirate stepped in. Legend, the archetypical 'flying artillery' hero and the Triumvirate's unofficial spokesperson, smiled at both Alexandria and Magos.
"We'd like to thank you for your contribution to the Endbringer early warning system." Legend's smooth baritone calmed the conversation, "You, Dragon and Armsmaster should be proud of what you have accomplished with it. Now we have entire minutes to respond to Endbringer attacks. Time to begin evacuating the city and bring the brave cape volunteers up to speed rather than doing it after the Endbringer has started its assault."
"Most of the credit lies with Dragon." the red-robed Tinker humbly deflected- nodding to her, "I simply optimised the programming."
"Regardless-"