DC: Symbol's Rising

Ao3 Summary:

Good luck can happen to everyone, even in the direst of times.

—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—

The Manticore stood at the top of the stairs leading into the basement, where two sets of doors barred entry. At the top of the steps, one of them laid flat and flush with the floor, while the other stood upright at the bottom.

 The horizontal doors were unlocked, and so he had no issue opening them. He hoped that the doors at the bottom were unlocked as well, but he had no such luck. He could see through the narrow viewports cut into the doors that the basement contained walled cages of some sort, but only the bottom parts of the closest ones were visible.

 With Full Cowling active alongside Ki circulation, Lucian delivered a half-hearted punch to where the steel doors met. They caved in a localized area with a satisfying clang.

 That much, he expected. What he didn't think he would hear upon enacting violence on the doors was the sound of voices. All women, by the sounds of it — crying, begging, pleading for help.

 'Oh, hell...'

 Before he started breaking the doors open, he expected to find animals of some sort down there. After all, this criminal group had stashed a small amount of exotic beasts at ground level. It would have made sense to believe that those were just the excess, and that the main bulk of the animals were in the basement.

 Imagine his... distress upon learning that it was people being held down there.

 He felt that familiar heat enveloping his back again, creeping up the nape of his neck and crawling all over his face. Then came the prickling — heavy and discomforting.

 He wouldn't lose his temper, no... but he was still prone to other 'distractions.'

 Tunnel vision. Hyperfixation. Impulsiveness.

 That was why he felt infinitely grateful to feel a pair of hands wrapping over his own. They bypassed his gauntlets and the gloves beneath them, touching his skin directly. A humanoid shape even draped itself over his back, quelling the heat that threatened to overtake him.

 'Thank you...'

 The unseen hands squeezed softly, and the nonexistence hugging him disappeared.

 With renewed resolve, he pushed his fingers into the gap that he'd made by punching the doors. He tore them open and stepped in.

 He never planned to be a hero. Never thought to call himself one, and never would.

 But what kind of man would he be if he didn't help when he was able?

◎ ◉ ◎

 Carrie's heart pumped a mile a minute. No, she wasn't afraid. She was tense. She couldn't tell if that tension was excitement or something similar, but she could taste the freedom coming. For her. For everyone.

 Despite the thought that her voice might be drowned out by everyone else's, she tried to call out anyway. She pressed her face up to the bars of her cell, hands gripping the cold, coarse iron as hard as she could.

 "Help!" She yelled. "Please, you have to get us out of here!" Her words were addressed directly to the figure now approaching her cell.

 To her relief, this figure — now seeming familiar, she thought — approached her first. The ominous fire and lightning that emanated from it died down as it walked. Once it reached her cell, it spoke in a deep, warped voice. She believed it to be some sort of voice filter to conceal its identity.

 "Tell me what's going on," said the masked... person(?). She was sure it was a person.

 "Please, we were kidnapped! All of us. Some of us are hurt, and we've got someone who's terribly sick. You need to get us out of here before those people come back, and then we need to call the police—"

 Carrie's cascade of words was interrupted when the figure raised its clawed hand to stop her. "It's alright," it said. The inflection was so gentle. "We've already rounded up those... those people that took you here. We have time."

 Carrie was speechless. She didn't have much time to dwell on the revelation, though — her savior had just grabbed the padlock keeping her cell sealed and yanked it off with a satisfying crack.

 "There," said the figure. "I'll get everyone else out now. You and anyone who's able, help those who were hurt or otherwise can't stand on their own. I'll take care of the sick one myself."

 Carrie complied. One by one, she watched this figure — the Manticore, she finally recalled from recent memory — break down each and every lock to the cells that held her fellow captives.

 With every cell door that her savior opened, she helped someone off their feet and out into the cold hallways. Melissa started helping out at some point, too, once she had recovered from her own shock.

 All twenty-two of them were now free, and they all had the Manticore to thank for it.

◎ ◉ ◎

 Lucian felt... disturbed. These women that he found, they had been held in captivity for who knew how long. Everyone was in various states of dishevelment. It wasn't easy to tell apart their injuries, but he knew that some were in a state worse than the others. What was easy to tell were their ages.

 A majority of the captives were in their twenties or thirties — none seemed to be older than middle age. Grimly, Lucian observed that a handful of them seemed to be in their mid-to-late teens. He was starting to regret pulling his punches with the people in charge of the factory.

 Once he had broken everyone out of the basement cells, he asked the first woman he talked to — Carrie — about what had been going on. She seemed the freshest of all of them, clearest of mind, completely uninjured.

 She spoke for everyone he had just rescued while they gathered themselves. They were obviously being trafficked. From what he and Carrie knew from the news, there were over forty that had been to that basement. Their current numbers were only half that at twenty-two. There were twenty-seven that morning — those now missing had just been sold off.

 He asked about their youngest — he had to. Oddly, Carrie observed that they seemed to be in reserve. She'd heard talks between their keepers, apparently, that they were all supposed to go to a place within the city. He put that information in a virtual note for later.

 Lucian wanted to curse the terrible timing since he could have saved more people, but chose not to dwell on it. It might not be too late. With the bats' resources, he was sure that everyone could still be tracked.

 If the ones who were sold or given away were still alive, he'd try his best to rescue them. If they weren't... he wasn't afraid to do what was necessary to avenge everyone.

 He was broken out of his musings when the woman he carried in his arms coughed, sounding like a seal. That wasn't good. She was even pale, skinny, and sweating all over.

 "Alright. Everyone who needs help walking, grab on," he declared, extending Blackwhip behind himself.

 He then hurried out of the basement with Carrie and the rest following him. He'd get Nightwing to call an ambulance, but in the meantime, he had an idea to test.

 He pressed a button on his earpiece and spoke. "Nightwing," he said.

 "What happened?"

 "I've got civilians down here, twenty-two of 'em. Bringing them up now. Thirteen are injured, one is gravely ill. Call for an ambulance just in case, but I'm gonna try something."

 He heard Nightwing affirming his request, and that was enough. He kept extending Blackwhip behind him so nobody would lose their support — he needed to lay this woman down somewhere safe and comfortable. The resting quarters should do.

 "Rushing to the quarters!" he said over comms.

 He hurried over and laid her down on one of the bunkbeds. Carrie and Melissa followed him alongside a handful of others, while the rest seemed content to wait and rest outside of the chamber.

 "Hey. Can you hear me?" he asked the sick lady.

 He was given a tiny nod.

 "Alright, good. Your problem's in your lungs, right?"

 Another nod.

 "Bear with this, okay? I'm gonna turn you over and put my hands on your back. Let's hope this works."

 He wasn't expecting an answer, but the last nod this woman gave him — bigger and more resolute than the last two — provided all the courage he needed.

 He gently turned her on her side so she faced away from him. His hands then rested on her back, one over each lung. Calling on his lifeforce, he drew it out of his body and attempted to channel it outward.

 The woman shifted a little beneath his hands, coughing wetly. He felt something shifting within her as well — something wet in her lungs.

 He continued channeling. As he did, he felt a sort of connection forming between his hands and her body. Like they were being entwined by the very essence of life itself.

 Slowly, he guided his lifeforce to circulate in great concentrations throughout her lungs. Another wet cough, and he heard something splat on the pillow beneath her head.

 "How are you doing?" he asked.

 "B-cough! better..." she managed to rasp out.

 With that encouragement, Lucian began channeling One for All as well. He always felt it amplifying his lifeforce, and vice versa. If his theory was right...

 The woman started hacking violently as purple arcs of electricity danced from the Manticore's gauntlets to her skin, fading to a blue-white hue halfway. Surprisingly, she was suddenly able to move around on her own unassisted. She got on her knees and elbows and coughed down into the pillow beneath her, spewing out yellow phlegm that was speckled with blood.

 Lucian heard noises ringing out behind him, a cocktail of surprise, horror, disgust, and other things.

 He kept on working until the sickly woman stopped hacking up bloody phlegm. Only once she sat up to lean against the wall did he stop channeling lifeforce into her.

 "Water..." the woman asked. Her voice was much clearer now, though it was weak. Her complexion seemed to have improved as well.

 "I'll get right on that," said Lucian, and he dashed away to another section of the factory.

◎ ◉ ◎

 Nightwing had just finished taking pictures of the machinery in the factory — the structure of them, what parts they were made of, the manufacturers, serial numbers, stamps, logos, etc. Right when he did, his earpiece beeped. It must have been the Manticore.

 He pressed a button to answer.

 The situation was explained to him, and he acted right away. On his left vambrace was a miniaturized computer with a touch-interface much like Batman's own. He used this to send an anonymous emergency ping to both the police force and the nearest hospital, alongside a generous donation to the latter. It shouldn't have been necessary, but in a city like Gotham, it served to make responders act with more urgency. The lack of donation to the police was intentional — a delay would be more convenient for the rookie with him. He also sent a ping to Commissioner Gordon just to keep any responding officers in line.

 After making the call for aid, Nightwing left the assembly chamber and went to the resting quarters where the Manticore said he'd be. It was mentioned that there was someone incredibly sick, so he assumed that the Manticore wanted to tend to them.

 When Nightwing arrived, he was greeted to a sight that threatened to dishearten him. There were around twenty women there around the factory's resting quarters. Some of them huddled together for comfort, while others deigned to isolate themselves. They were in varying degrees of neglect and carried different injuries as well. Those more able had gone off and found medical supplies to help the others. A handful of them had bunched up around the entrance to a particular room, where he assumed the Manticore must be.

 As Nightwing drew closer, the women he passed by either kept their gazes away or actively pulled back. It made his heart ache a little. As he drew close to the congested doorway, he made himself known.

 "Excuse me," he said.

 Four of the six women there looked at him, back into the room, and shuffled away. Of the two that remained, one of them spoke.

 "Nightwing?" she asked, and he nodded. "You're the Manticore's friend, right? I heard him call you earlier. He's in there. I think he's healing her..."

 Marginally, Nightwing's eyes widened. 'Could he really...?'

 Gesturing to be let through, the pair of women made way. Once he had gotten into the room, he was treated to a clear view of the chamber.

 The Manticore had taken to his knees next to a bed, his glowing hands hovering beside a woman's back. This one was particularly pale, and skinny as all hell. Her body glistened with sweat, and she never shivered terribly.

 As time went on though, her body stopped shaking. When it did, the electricity that usually surrounded the Manticore while exercising his power seemed to snake its way to her form. The sheen of sweat on her skin faded as it evaporated quickly, and she started coughing viciously. Nightwing's human instincts screamed at him to intervene, but he took a gamble and trusted in the Manticore. It just felt right in the moment, and he couldn't rationalize why.

 Not too long later, the sickly woman had gotten up on all fours, coughing like hell into the pillow beneath her head. Yellow phlegm that was flecked with red... pneumonia. As that happened, her complexion started improving. Once the Manticore removed his hands from her back, she settled and moved to the foot of the bed, sitting up with her back against the concrete wall.

 "Water," he heard her say, and the Manticore was out of the room before Nightwing could blink, passing right by him.

 "Here!" said one of the women still outside, who was tending to their wounded. The Manticore stopped by her, accepting the two bottles of drinking water that she had held out to him. "I heard her just now. Go! She needs it. Take one for yourself, too."

 And as soon as she said so, he rushed back into the room, lightning and fire trailing behind him. He took off the cap in an instant, and handed the bottle over, which the once-sickly woman started drinking little by little.

 "He's... kinda something, isn't he?" asked one of the women who stayed at the doorway.

 Nightwing turned to look at her for a moment, then back at the scene before them. "Yeah... he reminds me of someone."

 The absence of words fell over the factory. The only noise for a few moments came from those tending to wounds, or comforting one another by whatever means.

 Sobbing could be heard faintly, still, their voices varying. Nightwing even registered a couple voices younger than the rest — much too young to have been put in this sort of situation.

 Not that any age would have been appropriate at all.

◎ ◉ ◎

 By the time that Lucian had ensured everything with his first ever patient went well, he left the room. There at the entrance, he found Nightwing, whom he had passed by twice.

 "Did you call them?" he asked.

 "I did," Nightwing replied. "Ambulances are on the way, cops will be a little later."

 Luce passed his gaze over everyone that he rescued. More than half of them were bruised pretty bad, and had a few cuts. Some were worse than others, and were even showing signs of infection.

 "I'll go help them now," he said.

 Nightwing clapped his shoulder. "You do that. I'll head back up to the sixth floor, try to pick out anyone useful. When I call, we'll switch places if it's just the ambulances. If the cops are close, you come up and we'll get outta here."

 Lucian just nodded and approached the nearest injured while Nightwing ascended the stairs.

 The process of healing was exhausting. It was easier if Lucian only had to heal himself — he barely felt his energy drop when regenerating from his gunshot wound.

 When healing others, however...

 As he healed the sick woman earlier, he felt his lifeforce draining pretty fast. It wasn't alarming or taxing, but he actually felt his reserves dipping that time. And now, as he healed everyone's battered bodies, he felt his reserves dip even further. Beyond their visible injuries, they must have had more to fix internally.

 The degree of his exhaustion was comparable to having gone on a short run for a normal person.

 By the time Lucian was done helping the women heal, his enhanced hearing picked up on the ambulance sirens approaching.

 "Everyone, listen up!" he said loudly, but not so much that it would startle them. "The ambulances are almost here. I did help everyone heal their injuries, but I still might've missed something. Take the rides, just in case."

 He noticed some nervous glances shared and passed around among everyone in front of him, but they all accepted with varying degrees of enthusiasm — or lack thereof.

 When Lucian began considering what to do next, someone approached him unafraid. It was Carrie.

 "Um- h-hey," she greeted. She was nervous and hesitant, but there was no trace of fear or apprehension. "I speak for everyone when I say this... thank you."

 Lucian crossed his arms and nodded. "Just did what I had to."

 She just stared at him then — at his mask, searching — as if she could somehow will herself to gain x-ray vision. "So... are you like, working for the government...?"

 The Manticore shook his head. "No. We don't answer to any higher powers. We work on our own, and with each other. I found this place thanks to Batman's help."

 "The Batman? Is he like you? Some... creature of the night?"

 Two tiny dots of white light, shimmering from the Manticore's irises, flashed brighter for a second. "That's one way to call us."

 "So he's real... I thought the stories were just exaggerations. Could you find the rest of us? Could he help?" Carrie asked, hopeful.

 "He will," Lucian assured. "We're actively working together. He's the reason we're here right now."

 "You and Nightwing?"

 "And others, in other places, helping as many as they can." said Lucian. "There's more of us out there."

 A ghost of a smile crossed Carrie's face, brows furrowing in thought. "Like a dark Justice League..."

 "Something of that sort."

 By then, the rumbling of several engines, accompanied by wailing sirens, started getting dangerously close to the factory.

 "That's your ride," said Lucian. Nightwing had just informed him that the cops were closing in as well — a station was apparently closer than the nearest hospital. Even with relatively slow mobilization, they easily caught up.

 "I gotta go now. Cops'll be here any minute, and they don't exactly take to kindly to vigilantes."

 As he took to the stairs, firing up his Quirk and Ki, Carrie said one last piece. "Good luck!" she shouted. "To all of you."

 Lucian turned, gave one last nod, and dramatically rushed up the stairwell.

...

 "Just in time," said Nightwing as Lucian arrived. Somehow, he had broken down the welding job that had been done to the double doors earlier. There were a few new dents in the sheets of metal, as well as tiny heat distortions coming off the outer edges.

 "So we're taking these five?" Lucian asked. Separated from the gathering of criminals in the corner were the previous owner of his sword, two of the operators, and two commanding officers.

 "All five, yeah. Can you carry 'em all?"

 "It's no trouble," said Lucian.

 Before the cops could make it there, Nightwing and the Manticore had already left the scene, evacuating to the closest abandoned building where the latter was informed they would meet up with Batman.

 "Yo, Bats," Lucian greeted, setting down his five captives on the dusty concrete floor.

 "Manticore," Batman nodded. "And Nightwing. Good job tonight." He seemed to have been waiting in that spot for for quite a bit, with an all-black van-looking vehicle parked not far behind.

 'He must've stayed nearby in case anything went wrong,' thought Lucian.

 Nightwing apprised Batman of what went down, from the start of the operation all the way to the end. It was a shortened version of events, but it did its job.

 "I see you've picked up your first real toy earlier," said Batman. He was eyeing the new sword strapped to Lucian's belt.

 "Oh yeah. This thing." Luce drew the weapon and held it out, letting its blue light illuminate the building's dark interior. "It's fun to have. I used it to weld some doors shut earlier."

 Batman nodded. "It looks like you'll make good use of it. Just be careful — something like that can't become your crutch."

 "That's easy," said Lucian, sheathing the blade. "I'm not about to become some one-trick pony... or a kitty?" he said, unsure. "Manticores are just weird big cats, so yeah."

 He could swear that Batman chuckled at the bit — must have been his imagination, though.

 Having done everything else they needed, Lucian helped Batman and Nightwing load up the 'cargo,' before the latter two boarded the black van.

 "Sorry," said Nightwing, "but we can't let you come along."

 "Secret base?" asked Lucian.

 "Yeah... but we'll get you up to speed on what we learn soon. For now, just hang tight... and you should probably recover. Your stance has gotten loose."

 For the first time in a while, Lucian was genuinely surprised by something. He was sure that he'd been keeping up the same gait the entire time, but Nightwing had apparently noticed his exhaustion.

 Beyond that, aside from not really being one for interrogations and other tedious processes like that, Lucian just really wanted to crash and fall asleep. Just this one night took a lot more out of him than most of his outings combined.

 "I'll see y'all again at some point, then," he said, shrugging. "And I assume you'll contact me through this earpiece?"

 "That's correct," Batman answered. "It's also a tracker, so it'd be wise to have on you at all times, just to be safe."

 'Prudent,' thought Lucian. 'Crafty, too. Oh well. Being tracked by Batman's more of a boon anyway, as long as you don't go evil or out of control.'

 He shared one last goodbye with two of his comic book idols back in his first life, and they finally parted ways.

...

 Back in the half-ruined apartment, Lucian stumbled in. He had switched back to his civilian loadout after making it to a safe enough area, and ended up bringing home some food along the way. Some Chinese takeout, two extra cheesy meatlovers pizzas, soda, as well as some salty snacks and sweets in case he felt restless through the night.

 He'd had insomnia before, in his first life and at the Academy where he spent two years adjusting to his new reality. He wouldn't be surprised if it came back with a vengeance when he tried to sleep tonight.

 He gently placed his massive dinner down on the dingy round table, and left his snacks by his Duffel Bag o' Money™️. Returning to sit on an old cushion by the table, he popped open his box of Chinese takeout for a fun little treat.

 'Fortune cookie! Never had one of these before.'

 He cracked the cookie open to see the message kept within...

 "Your good fortune swells," it said, and Lucian heard a ping in his head.

 [ Your Luck attribute has increased by 1 (0 ››› 1) ]

 "Well, shit... nice."

 Lucian enjoyed his nice, warm meal then. Once he was full, Penny urged him to sleep, explaining that he actually needed it this time due to having expended quite a lot of his lifeforce. And for the first time in a while, he fell into a deep, restful slumber...

—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—

Compilation of accumulated EXP:

Combat EXP:

Takedowns: 74.

Individual EXP worth 80

2,000 combat EXP cap reached with 25 individual takedowns.

Bonus EXP: 49 × 8 = 392.

Total combat EXP: 2,392.

Rescue EXP:

Rescues: 22.

Individual EXP worth 80.

Combined individual EXP: 1,760.

Healed 13 people; 7 of minor injuries (7 × 8), 5 of moderate injuries (5 x 12), and 1 of severe illness (16).

Bonus EXP: 56 + 60 + 16 = 132.

Total rescue EXP: 1,892.

Overall Total EXP: 4,284

Lucian Albrecht's level has risen from 16 to 17.

One for All bonus: +1 to Power, Vitality, and Agility.

Performance bonus: +1 to Intellect, Mentality, and Spirit.5 free attribute points have been distributed by the host.

 Power +1

 Vitality +1

 Agility +2

 Mentality +1

– ৹ – ৹৹◎৹৹ – ৹ –

Host: Lucian Albrecht

Matrix: Quirk User: One for All

Level: 17

Classes: [Brawler - Level 5] ; [Acrobat - Level 5] ; [Criminal - Level 5] ; [Monk - Level 1] ; [Magician - Level 1]

-[ Attributes ]-

Power: 45 ››› 47 [98]

Vitality: 45 ››› 47 [98]

Agility: 45 ››› 48 [100]

Intellect: 28 ››› 30

Mentality: 29 ››› 30

Spirit: 29 ››› 30

Luck: 0 ››› 1

Free Attribute Points: 0

New class abilities unlocked!

Mage:

 [1] Spellcasting: You now have the basic knowledge and experience needed to cast magical spells. You're no expert by any means, but it's good enough. No, you do not get free spells. Go make your own. Note that practice and study will enhance this ability without the need to invest more levels in the Magician class.

 [2] Spell Creation: You now have the basic knowledge and experience needed to create your own spells. Again, not an expert, but any work you make will be serviceable. No, you still do not get any free spells. Note that practice and study will enhance this ability without the need to invest more levels in the Magician class.

– ৹ – ৹৹◎৹৹ – ৹ –

—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—

[A/N]: Hey, y'all. I managed to write this chappyter pretty fast.

What to say, what to say...

I guess I'll give a bit of an explanation on the EXP/levelup bit at the end. As has been established before, Penny can hold onto Lucian's EXP for as long as desired/necessary. In this case, she held back the EXP until the op was over.

Also, I might not have kept the best and most consistent EXP acquisition in the earlier chapters, but I have a solid process for it now! I'll be 100% consistent from now on, I promise.

Now, some might be wondering why I didn't turn the factory op into a quest. You can just skip this blurb if you don't actually want/need the explanation.

Anyway, the quests are more meant to guide Lucian towards a certain outcome, rather than act an expression of his situation. He doesn't need to follow them, but if he does, he'll end up in a more favorable place than otherwise, and the rewards are a great incentive, too.

"Be Silly! Do Crimes!" from chapter 2 gave him a concrete plan of action while he was starting out, as well as a much-needed power boost/head start.

"Birth of a Vigilante" in chapter 6 was more of a carrot that the Headmaster decided to give him through Penny. He loves a good presentation, and costumes are one part that can contribute to that.

"Love is in the Air" from chapter 9, yet unfinished, is just the Headmaster's way of teasing his pupil :p

"Test Drive" from chapter 14 encouraged Lucian to get a feel for how he really compared to people in the universe and get some direct experience in confrontation.

Him winning against Batman was extremely unlikely, but that juicy chunk of EXP acted as a great motivator to try his best later in chapter 15 when he actually fought Batman.

"Hold L-Shift to Run" from chapter 20 was, well, just a confirmation that he should, in fact, run. He could've gone full super-vigilante on Rico then, but what of his ability to hold back?

I've also been working on some art for Maxine, and I'm nearly done.

Anyway, yeah. That's everything for now. 'Til next time, y'all.