Katemare

///Disconnected/// stated the HUD in bold red text across the viewport. Through the haze, it took Robomech U788 some mental effort to minimize the notification. Processing was difficult. Though there was little to process: ze was surrounded by darkness and nondescript hum. The only salient stimuli came from the infrared sensors in necessarily low resolution. According to the visuals and the motorics, ze laid on the floor in a featureless narrow corridor, walls on three sides of zir. All surfaces were so smooth and devoid of interfaces, or even gaps and bumps from manufacturing, that the dead end might as well have been a sealed airlock: with this level of tech, how would ze know? Robomech U788 (short self-designation U7) composed a checklist: ☐ Here=where? ☐ Mission? ☐ Safe? Then ze minimized that too. There were priorities to consider: ☐ Diagnostics ☐ !!Connection ☐ !Safe?? self_test crashed without an error message, which was in itself a critical issue. Another problem was

Ancient Warrior opened the interview with the classic: "Tell me about your criminal experience." He stifled a smile, seeing the candidate opposite him shuffle in an obvious sign of unease. Then again, the young man might have been too hot indoors in his fur-trimmed jacket. According to his CV, his villain name was Red Wolf, and the fur was red. Chasing the look was the plight of young villains these days. "I’m The Menace of Midtown!” the man offered with a confident grin. It looked very practiced on his long face. He wasn't impressing anyone. Frankly, Ancient Warrior didn't have to hold this interview personally–he had a department for that. But for the old times' sake, he couldn't resist. In this era, he donned a business suit like he had donned a suit of armor. Words were his sword. “Menace, huh? That's the least moniker newspapers call a villain," the old supervillain chuckled. "According to your resume, you have 3 years of experience. What has held you back?” “Um, no, The

Almost nothing went down in the West End borough without Rope Trick knowing about it. This wasn’t his superpower, though; going without sleep was. Everything else he had to scramble for: investigating, going undercover, connections . . . all in the after hours of his day job. The ropes? They were from the day job too. It took a little crime to stop big crimes. Well, as big as the street-level could sustain. This was an easy night. He just had to tie a few ropes. One–across a sidewalk where The Heist Gang was going to escape on foot from yet another heist. The rope would trip and bind them, giving the pursuing police the minute they needed to catch up. Another rope–on the corner of 29th and E, with a special knot that, when pulled by a passing car, would tell Rope Trick when on this night someone would drive there. You can get a lot out of the tidbit about when a car drove where it shouldn’t. The rest of the night should’ve been patrolling, good for the soul, 82% chance of no crime

The fact that the assembly looked more like a support group than an official meeting hinted at its humble origins. Just a few decades ago, in a room much like this one, those present were only starting out their careers of evil and crime. Except nowadays they were not quite “present”, but “tele-present”. No one could afford anymore to appear in the same place as other high-ranking supervillains. The opportunity would be too great for the numerous rivals and nemeses to squash the whole bunch: exterminate multiple threats in a single precise strike. No, those in the room were teleconferencing via screens and crystal balls, astral projecting, phasing in from a side reality, running a local mind copy, using robot bodies and magical constructs or just plain phoning in. The only members present fully and bodily were the interpreter for Queen Zambia; a newcomer--the invulnerable hulk called Brick; and him . . . “Welcome to the 34th annual gathering of Supervillains for the Better