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Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warnings:
Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death
Category:
Gen
Fandoms:
Parahumans Series - Wildbow崩坏3rd | Honkai Impact 3rd (Video Game)
Additional Tags:
CrossoverOC insertReincarnationCanon-Typical ViolenceEmotional BaggageBrockton BayHerrschers (Honkai Impact 3rd)No beta we die like Dr. MEICharacter ExpieslongficNot a power fantasyNot A Fix-ItAlternate Universe - Crossover DivergenceSI/OC
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Veronika of Bet Next Work →
Stats:
Published:2023-01-01Updated:2025-08-07Words:260,031Chapters:63/?Comments:523Kudos:1,366Bookmarks:436Hits:110,882
Selene
Synopsynthesis
Chapter 3: Heir 1.2
Notes:
Apparently, I can't be patient enough to have the rest of the arc written down to see the reactions to the chapter.
Chapter Text
Heir 1.2
{0}
Jogging had become a habit I'd developed since the indoor insomnia tactics from my previous life stopped entertaining me enough on my restless days. I'd been putting it off ever since I got to Brockton ever since I heard about the cape activity here, but I didn't particularly care at the moment. I was reasonably sure that I could just run away from anything the city would throw at me. Between the portals and the ability to slow time to a crawl, there was nothing short of another teleporter or a specially prepared ambush that could hold me down.
I made it down the apartment and breathed in the cold air as I tied my hair into a ponytail. Checking across the street for bystanders and finding none that were looking too closely, I closed my eyes and let my power reach my skin.
My senses exploded. Suddenly, I was aware of the space around me like I knew where my arm was in relation to my body, only it was so much more. I could feel where and how fast everything was moving and the ways I could twist space to make a hole I could use to make a shortcut in reality. I could feel the places I'd been to like they were a particularly long hand I'd left on the railing.
I knew without looking that my eyes had turned a vibrant shade of gold. The same could be said about the red insignia that looked vaguely like a diadem made of stars at the back of my hand. I knew what it was. Months of playing the game with a "support" character as my main source of damage made sure that the symbol of Sirin: Ascendant (T) was unmistakable.
All indications so far had been consistent with that of an antagonist called the Herrscher of the Void, which was a boss that you would come against in the earlier chapters and decidedly changed the course of the storyline for all the chapters following hers. A Herrscher was a sentient Endbringer-level being that usually had a grudge against humanity and had a fair amount of dominion over some concept of reality or even abstract ideas.
And Void's domain was spacetime.
Of course, I could be wrong and this random tattoo thing that spontaneously appeared in my hand was actually a Command Seal. I would actually bet that over being a memento from getting shit-faced with some friends given that I tended not to have any and that I avoided alcohol like the plague. Either way, I had space-time powers and didn't really know what I want to do with them.
Using my power was both freeing and terrifying. I could only imagine how bad it was for actual capes. I vaguely remembered that it was part of Worm lore that the celestial engines behind parahumans place compulsions in their hosts to push them to use said powers.
With that in mind, I took the senses that my power gave me and put them in the back of my mind. I started the jog, or at least, what felt like a jog. A light exercise for me might as well have been running a full sprint to bystanders. Superhuman strength had been the first among the laundry list of powers that came to the Herrscher of the Void. I was lucky that I'd first realized it was there while I was playing hide-and-seek with another foster kid when I was eight. Sure, accidentally lifting the king-sized bed when I was eight lost me the game, but it let me hide it well enough for six and a half more years until a misfortune encounter with a random criminal Brute.
I took in the sight of the Brockton nightlife, sticking to the same street and moving North, following the landmarks on the way to Winslow. With the season of Christmas over, there were a lot fewer people in the streets. I saw several police patrols passing by and even a few PRT vans. Word from the news channel was that gang and criminal activity was rising again, what with people wanting to steal some Christmas presents. I saw a few small groups prowling in the streets, usually covered up with hoods, beanies, scarves, and face masks. There would be an odd one in balaclava here and there, but those tended to disappear quickly, either because they were running or power-walking to their destinations.
At one point, I came across Miss Militia, or rather, she passed me by. We saw each other by an intersection and she gave me a nod of recognition and went on her merry way.
The night had been shaping up to be a good run when I came across violence on the streets.
I was half an hour in, about to turn for my way back when I heard the sounds of gunshots in one of the older, brick-made neighborhoods. My senses flared and space-proprioception told me that the place where several objects were moving erratically was within a warehouse by the street I had just passed.
Now, an ordinary cape would have decided to put down their hood, check off "barely equipped with nothing but my teeth and bare fists" off their list, and proceed to walk into an active shootout with the subtlety of a peacock. Me?
I ducked into an alley and called 911. They answered within the first ring.
"This is the Brockton Bay Police how— what's the situation?"
"Gunfight in a warehouse at—" I glanced at a signpost "—Thompson Drive. I'm not close enough to take a look—" there were around a dozen participants "—because I'm not an idiot, so I can't tell you anything more."
"Got it, Miss. Find some cover and stay in position. We'll be there in eight. Stay on the call so we can know if anything happens."
I relaxed against the dumpster I was using as cover. My decision to stick to the route to school was vindicated. I'd been near one other shootout a few years ago and the response time had been fifteen minutes because I'd decided that the back-alley Chinese food restaurant I was recommended was worth braving the backstreets. Stupid thirteen-year-old brain cells. They somehow messed up even with the memories of a twenty-year-old.
At least I was able to hide at said Chinese shop then. I was reasonably sure that every building in the neighborhood was closed. Hopefully, the fight wouldn't be moving out of the warehouse because I was hunkering in my corner behind the dumpster.
Movement pinged off my space sense. A section of the gate facing the street blew open, raining metal shards and pain. Screams filled the air and I could distinctly remember a voice yelling "motherfucker!" as bodies scattered around to search for cover.
Unfortunately for me, three of them were headed my way.
"Ma'am?"
"Fight moved to the street," I hissed, scrambling to my feet. "Some going my way. Heading in the alley."
I stuffed the phone down my pocket, and thank God I put on refitted menswear because the sexists in the textile industry made women's pockets a myth. I dashed into the corner before the three heading my way arrived. And stopped.
"Fuck."
It was a dead end, just a straight-up concrete wall into another shop. I looked up and around to see if there was a fire escape I could climb to. Nada.
I turned around again just in time to see three men in ratty jackets and coats turn the corner, one armed with a rifle while the rest had pistols in their hands. We froze, staring at each other. The moment was broken quickly when the next round of gunfire returned to the street. The three of them argued quietly with each other and I tried to pretend I was part of the brick wall.
They seemed to come to a decision and one of them headed over to me, one of the two that had pistols. I stood there in shock as he stuffed something in my hand. I looked down and realized it was a crowbar.
"Aim for the eyes or between the legs," the man said and I could hear the tremor in his voice. "Try not to die."
He went back to his group, all three of them set up to the various trash bins with their guns pointed to ambush whoever showed up.
It didn't take long. I didn't even get to see who came around before my ears were blasted with deafening gunfire and I threw myself onto the floor. I lost track of how long the shooting lasted. The next thing I knew, the guy who had given me his crowbar was slumped on the ground beside me, a hole seared through his shoulder while his other friends are hiding. Laser guns, I noted idly. There was a lull. His eyes moved towards me and he forced himself into a smile.
There was a clink. All four of us in the alley looked down in horror as a lemon-sized metal ball bounced into the middle of our group.
"Oh shi—"
…
…
I opened my eyes. I was still in the alley, with no wounds, no shrapnel in my shoulder, no missing limbs or debilitating agony. I looked up and froze.
At first, I didn't know what I was looking at. I thought at first that a miniature sun or some cape's fireball appeared in the alley and sat on the ground. It took me to realize that it wasn't just some fireball but an explosion frozen in time. I could see the fragments floating in mid-air, tinged yellow by the energy holding them in place. Said energy also coated the explosion proper and painted a picture of a frozen star.
I could feel a faint strain in the back of my head, like an extra limb, one that felt quite similar to my space sense. Through it, I could tell acutely how much time had passed. I could also tell that the time in the fragments in mid-air wasn't moving at all and that it felt like I was holding it with the abstract limb. I almost let those feelings go in shock as I realized what it was.
Time manipulation. I was using the Herrscher of the Void's stasis field.
It took me a moment to notice that I was being stared at. All three of the men and the duo of lasergun-toting military men that turned the corner were looking at me in shock.
I noticed that my arm was extended toward the explosion. I noticed the vague pull of the power I was pushing to keep our imminent deaths in suspended animation.
I gulped, then took a deep, slow breath. It wouldn't do to panic and accidentally let go of the time lock. Slowly, I wrapped my head around the best way to warp space so that the shock and shrapnel get sent somewhere else instead of human flesh. There! With an exertion of will, reality crumpled and tore as a miniature omnidirectional portal formed in the center of the chaos, and the entire ensemble was shunted into what I instinctively knew was a personal dimension. Imaginary Space.
Silence greeted the alley. I took a few moments to catch my breath before I looked at my audience. A smile tugged at my lips as an idea inspired what I was about to do.
"The next person who starts shooting is next," I said, flexing more of my will to modulate my voice in the same way that the Herrscher I remembered did to intimidate the protagonists.
They all glanced at each other, unwilling to make a move. I stared hard at the men with Tinkertech rifles, and eventually, they got the message. With silent hand gestures, they backed off the hallway. I idly noted with my space sense that there were a few more men out in the street. The two that had walked in came out of the alley carrying a third (was he the first one that was shot?) to meet with the group outside and they quickly headed into a vehicle. A rumbling van woke up and promptly sped into the street, its engine fading into the background as it was slowly replaced by the faint sound of police sirens.
I dropped my arm and stared at the other men. They stared back at me.
"What are you waiting for?!" I hissed, gesturing at the dying man. That jolted them into action and the two hurried over to their incapacitated member and lifted him by the shoulders. The injured man, to his credit, did not cry out even as his face scrunched in pain. They started carrying him out of the alley, but then stopped at the corner. One man, the one who used a rifle, looked like he had come to a decision and turned back to me.
"The Merchants will repay their favors," he said. Then he turned to his companions and they shuffled out of the alley.
You could imagine that I just sat there, dumbfounded, staring in shock at the trio of goons of the gang that was all about smoking crack and getting shit-faced that I just saved. I felt their vehicle leave, and it was definitely a Squealer vehicle because it woke up and left without a sound. A few minutes later and they were gone from my range.
If I had been standing, I would have fallen to my knees, but since I was already on the ground, I just let myself flop against the wall of the alley. There was a ringing in my ears and my limbs felt numb from all the tension. I could hear someone laughing in the distance, then realized belatedly that it was me.
---
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