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Cade is curious, and Makara is in the thick of things.

m the Shocker on down could buy a plethora of robots that understood "RIP HIS HEAD OFF AND SCOURGE THE BONES!"

The man himself was tactical, showing up midway through the fight, just as they were mopping up, with a second wave of robots and, of course, more murder. For a crazy few seconds, everyone was dodging pumpkin bombs-after that, the convention center definitely wouldn't be giving back the deposit.

Like they actually had a plan, Zoe and Sasha returned fire while Kaine and Hummingbird covered them, beating back the robots so they could get a clear shot as Goblin came around for a second pass. Sasha aimed for the man, her arrow snatching that stupid cap off his head, while Zoe's machine-gun fire splashed off his glider. Something vital got dinted, as the turbine vomited black smoke and Goblin's flight path wobbled erratically.

Kaine broke from the pack then, using one of the robots as a stepping stone to launch himself at Goblin. Norman tried to juke to the side, but his glider responded only sluggishly, and Kaine was able to snag him as he passed. The two flew through the air, Norman able to get a shot in, and then they crashed to the ground. With his reflexes, Kaine was up fast. No witty banter was coming to mind. He wondered if Parker thought of it ahead of time.

They traded blows. Now Zoe and Sasha were covering them, blowing away all the robots that were trying to protect their master, with Hummingbird helping him-scoring blows on Goblin whenever she could, while Kaine kept him desperately occupied.

Goblin wasn't like anyone else he'd ever fought. The man was crazy, concentrated crazy, crazy layered over evil layered over more evil. On a fundamental level, the man did not want to be good, not decent, not even left alone or safe or content. He wanted to hurt people. He wanted suffering. Kaine had fought evil before, but your typical bad guy wanted something. Goblin was in service of nothing but more pain, more violence, and it showed in everything he did and everything he was.

Man was hard to put down.

He didn't have all that many robots, though. He wasn't Ultron, after all.

Zoe shot him, Sasha arrowed him, Hummingbird darted in to give him a kick that buckled his knees, and when he backhanded her, Kaine came in and walloped him. His armor could take a bullet, take an arrow, but it didn't have the proportional strength of an animal that couldn't get its ass kicked by a spider.

Osborn went down. Kaine unmasked him-same ol' haircut-ripped away his bag and his belt, all the tricks up his sleeve.

"Zoe, Sasha, you're on a damsel duty," Kaine told them, and they spread out to search the place for Annabelle. "Hummingbird, if he moves, kick first, ask questions later."

He webbed Norman into place. Probably redundant at this point-probably something psychological in hosing a defeated foe down with white fluid-but fuck, that's what you were supposed to do, right?

"So, how's the other shoe drop?" Kaine asked. "Go ahead, finish spitting your teeth on the floor, I'll wait."

Norman smiled. Blood, teeth, yadda yadda. "You must feel like quite the hero now. You've really redeemed yourself! Saving the girl, beating the bad guy-it's all so damn inspiring."

"Yeah-huh." Kaine spun his fingers in the air. "Move it along. Did someone hire you to be Secretary of the Interior? Do you have a bomb planted up Lady Liberty's ass? What's the catch, Norman-always a catch with you people, you're always so smart."

"Oh, nothing much. I really wanted to save the good stuff for a proper arch-nemesis. But your little girlfriend is rigged to explode."

Kaine looked to Aracely. She nodded fitfully.

"And I let you go, you disarm the bomb, or not, or yes, or I don't care. God, how does your mind think of all this bullshit without just quitting to watch cartoons? You know, normal people have a hard time just painting a landscape..."

"No. Oh no. No disarming the bomb. See, it's wired to my heart. If my heart stops beating... then the bomb deactivates."

Again, Kaine looked at Aracely. Couldn't kid a psychic.

Again, she nodded.


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