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Kindness To Every Living Thing


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Cerulean cursed as the aquatic attack hit one of her decoys -- yes, that was what they were for, and she was quite glad that she hadn't been the one hit -- because that looked like it would have been nasty, and not because of the mere impact of the water.  Another decoy formed out of pure light a moment later, bringing her defenses back up to full capacity -- and she just might need it.

Leaving a blue streak in her wake, she shot up perhaps another four hundred feet in altitude, putting some more distance between them to make subsequent water blasts much more difficult to reach her.  Not so with light based attacks, however, and her eyes flared a brilliant blue an instant before a pair of incandescent beams speared out of them to converge on the clone hundreds of feet below.

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The blast hit hard, knocking al-Darsah into the water with a splash so loud Cerulean could hear its faint echoes from nearly a mile away. Had she really hit her that hard, or was the water controller simply playing possum, trying to lure her into her element? Either way it didn't matter - she wasn't going to fall for that! And the scream of aerojets behind her told her that the locals weren't falling for it either. A flight of a half-dozen triangular craft wooshed past her on either side, close enough for her to catch the razor-quick image of a black-headed eagle against a yellow background emblazoned on their hulls, and then the hi-tech planes were bombarding the icy waters of the bay where al-Darsah had fallen. They were using lasers too, fast, rapid-fire attacks like machine guns, and they spent minutes strafing the bay like so many angry bees. The local authorities had arrived a little late; but it was clear they were on the right side. 

After several minutes, the flight maneuvered again, faster and more nimble than any planes Cerulean had ever seen on Earth-Prime - they rotated around their central axes so fast and easy they looked almost like bad special effects. This time they were flying around her, taking up position on either side and beneath; not hostile, but clearly trying to direct her towards part of the domed Icelandic city below, where a gap was beginning to open in the transparent covering that enclosed the city. 

Edited by Avenger Assembled
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Well. She hadn't planned on pursuing her attack, not in what would clearly be a suicidal bid to follow the hydrokinetic into her own domain, but with the appearance of air force backup, she found herself hard-pressed not to give theme some assistance, since they were clearly risking their lives here. 

Descending to perhaps thirty feet above the waves, ignoring the stray shots that were absorbed harmlessly into her own aura, she took a deep breath, concentrated, and then cut loose. 

From her outstretched hands, a column of brilliant blue light a full twenty five feet across lanced out, spearing down into the chill waters at an angle that actually manged to somehow bore a hole in the ocean itself.  The waters came crashing back in as the massive beam faded, a collapsing trench some five hundred feet long.  She rotated fifteen degrees to her left, and did it again.  And again. 

Once everyone had broken off their assault on the tides, she fell into their formation as she was clearly intended to, and headed for the opening in the city shield. 

This was awesome!

 

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Inside the domed city, Cerulean was guided to what looked like a helipad - albeit one with vehicles on it that looked more like flying cars than helicopters. Looking down at the roads far below roof-level, in which a criss-crossing maze of hovering vehicles moved amid the sounds of electronic whining in the air, this looked perhaps a trifle less advanced than the Freedom City she'd seen - the buildings smaller and less polished, the vehicles less numerous and with fewer moving signs on the walls. This was maybe a Second World city - for all that it still looked far in advance of anything from her own timeline. There were several Europeans waiting for her on the roof, men and women in polished reflective armor with a faint mesh sheen, along with a familiar face! "Well, quite a mess we've brought these nice people, eh?" Dr. Siddig looked to have recovered fully from the effects of the flight and all that had come after. 

"Cerulean, I'd like you to meet Edward Martel; the Governor of the Island." Short, with platinum-blonde hair so pale it looked white, the governor shook Cerulean's hand, a serious look on his face. 

"Dr. Siddig tells me he can send you home from our city. Are you sure we can't persuade you to stay, hmm?" he asked. "The Empire could use people with your power, now that the war has come to our doorstep." 

"Firanji neutrality is...over," said the doctor, shooting a glance at the distant, closing window in the dome, obviously thinking about the battle that had taken place out there. "But luckily, one of my colleagues at the university here is working on a small-scale version of the Gateway, and with your photokinesis, we have just the trick." 

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Cerulean hesitated, torn, as she returned the Governor's handshake, her feet hovering a few inches from the ground and putting her on an advantageous footing with him.  One the one hand, it was pretty hard to argue that her arrival and participation hadn't triggered this whole conflict that had just dragged the Firanjii into their war, and to then just up and abandon these people to their troubles, after they jumped to help her?

On the other hand...well, this wasn't her world, and she did have one of those to go back to.  She was of a minority peoples here, didn't understand the languages, and she had friends and family that would wonder what had happened to her.  Plus, y'know -- a war.  It was one thing being a superhero, dealing with villains and disasters and saving the day.  But getting into a war, where people were genuinely trying to kill each other on a regular and wholesale basis, and she might be expected to do the same?

"My...photokinesis is just what you need to power your gateway?" she replied, addressing what grabbed at her attention.  "Isn't that a bit...coincidental?" she asked, her tone just a touch wry.

"I don't think I can justify staying for the long term; I have people that depend on me back in my reality," she went on, and if by 'people' she meant 'my mom', and by 'depend on' she meant 'would kill me', well, they didn't have to know that part.

"That doesn't mean that I didn't appreciate your willingness to sacrifice your neutrality to assist me," she went on, favouring them all with a quick smile.  "Is there anything that I in particular might be able to do for you and your people before I return home?" she offered.  And hoped she wouldn't have something nasty come and bite her in the ass because of this offer....

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  • 2 weeks later...

A DNA sample was all the locals asked for to study her powers - and after a painless blood drawing that seemed to work by air pressure rather than a needle, they soon were loaded into an underground tram for the trip to the university. "It's not that your powers can power the machine," Dr. Siddig told Cerulean almost apologetically, "but rather, well..." 

-

"It's only a few photons wide, I admit!" declared Dr. Snorrison, a bearded, boisterous fellow with a barrel chest and carefully tended blonde locks hanging down his back. He was in his laboratory at Reykjavik University, a notably less elaborate place than the super-science facilities Cerulean had glimpsed back closer to her version of Freedom City. The dimensional gateway he had on his desk did indeed look like the gateway Siddig had described as being part of al-Darsah's territory now - it was, however, the size of a laptop computer rather than the size of a wall. "But if you can do so much with light," he offered to Cerulean, who had been accompanied by Siddig into the room, "surely you can transport yourself along it?"

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Cerulean regarded the cute little pocket gate with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  Her 'easy ride home' had just become a lot less simple, and she might just be stuck here for a while after all.

"Uh," she replied intelligently, her mind still scrambling to catch up with the implications.  "I...guess the theory is there," she replied dubiously.  "I mean, I've never done it or anything -- look, I do stuff with light, I'm not made of it!" she protested.  "Not to mention that a few photons wide is tiny," she observed.  "Even if I could turn myself into light--" which was something that she'd never considered before, but was definitely an interesting idea "--I'd somehow have to funnel myself through a pinhole without losing any of me.  It's..."  She trailed off, not sure of how to frame her protests.

"...can we maybe steal one of theirs?" she countered hopefully.

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Siddig shook his head. "Not without an invasion of the continent we just left - and even with Firanjistan in the war, it will be years before anyone has the resources for that." He looked depressed. "It seems your courtesy towards me has stranded you in another place and time. A thousand pardons, young lady, it seems in saving my life, you may have sacrificed many years of yours. 

"Are you absolutely certain you can't use the portal yourself?" When it became clear Cerulean was, she found herself in the middle of a vigorous debate between two scientists using technical terms that didn't quite have an equivalent in the 21st century English of her own world, light of truth or not. Snorrison seemed convinced that a larger portal would "blow up the island, create a hot spot in the Atlantic Rim, and blow us all to White Christ!" while Siddig was a little more confident about his colleague's abilities. 

"Wait a moment!" Siddig suddenly snapped his fingers, pointing to Snorrison, then at Cerulean. "A message! Cerulean, can you use your power to send a laser-encoded message through a gateway that small? We should be able to at least _see_ the other side and aim it at something useful." 

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