[Cauldron Base]
"This damn toaster-weirdo." Alexandria muttered to herself as she removed her helmet and massaged her temples.
She had worked so hard- focused her bottomless font of physical and mental energies for decades on end to preserve humanity… only for her to arrive at this point: The world hanging in the balance. And the one person who seemed to be in the best position to tip the scales was… a Tinker with a profound fixation on toasters, robots, AIs and researching for a way to make it possible for all of the above to achieve sexual climax.
"Magos goddammit." She groaned again as she switched from massaging her temples to palming her face.
In the headache-inducing pure white room with its pure white round table, the latest meeting with all of Cauldron's notable members in attendance. The entire Triumvirate, the Number Man, Contessa, and Doctor Mother herself. It was fairly uncommon for them to be all together in one place at a time- what with Cauldron's goals and interests spanning literal dimensions apart. Now they were all gathered, deciding the fate of all of humanity as they bickered over the same subject as PHO keyboard warriors did: An infuriating robot-fetishist named Magos who also happened to Tinker up a giant mecha capable of beating away Behemoth in a straight fight less a few days ago.
"No, this changes everything." Legend- or 'Keith' as he was known without his blue and white mask- spoke as he tapped a finger at the after-action report
"Does it really?" Doctor Mother calmly challenged his statement- a dark eyebrow raising on her dark skin. "This has always been the plan, has it not? Setting up an environment where powerful and high utility parahumans can rise? The Slaughterhouse 9, Teacher, Glastig Ulaine, The Number Man..."
Eyes swivelled over to Kurt who just shrugged at the mention of his moniker before going back to his laptop.
"... a markedly powerful Tinker is only par for course." She finished. "Cauldron can make use of him, yes. But this is hardly the game-changer you make it out to be. Magos gathered immense funds from his viral videogames, and simply did what any Tinker would when given enough resources: He let loose."
"That he did." Keith conceded to her, "But you're forgetting one aspect of Magos' Tinkering: Scale. We have never had someone achieve something on this scale, and definitely not as fast. Dragon, with all the resources afforded to her, took years to climb to where she is now. Magos had to gather his own resources, and yet his growth and influence seems to increase exponentially. If we had given the same amount of resources to other highly-rated Tinkers, do you think that they could have tinkered something to beat back Behemoth like Magos did in three weeks?"
Rebecca knew that they wouldn't.
"We're also nearing the critical mass of parahumans faster than previously theorised." Kurt supplied- his voice as dispassionate as the numbers he was so attuned to, "All the data… all the numbers project that the inherent nature of parahumans and their unavoidable effects on society will cause a steep decline in population within the next few years. In one year, 49.47% chance of it happening. Two years, 91.62%. Three, 99.9999%. We're just counting down the days before the first domino falls and triggers the collapse."
"And you only inform us of this now?" Rebecca hissed. She had been meticulous with the details- almost obsessively so- when she first presented the idea for the PRT just so that they could avoid this exact scenario. An eight step program to integrate the once few parahumans, who were unstable products of trauma and stress, into society. She had pinned down the key sociological fulcrums on which they could leverage society at large, the projected issues and their solutions, and crunched the numbers with the then-young Number Man.
"Well…" The now middle-aged Number Man drew out the word, "this is the first full Cauldron meeting I've attended since confidently arriving at this conclusion."
Rebecca's eyes momentarily caught the reflection of her face in her helmet as it rested on the table in front of her. Graceful, age-defying features holding earthy brown eyes and framed by her long flowing black hair. So much time had passed since she had first put on that helmet; and yet, the reflection was still of the same young hispanic woman who was barely out of her teens even after three long decades of endless struggles… Struggles that were hovering perilously close to being all for nothing.
"If a societal collapse is inevitable, then we introduce a stabilising force in society." Doctor Mother spoke in a contemplative tone- thinking about the issue deeply, "Not too strong as to remove the dominoes altogether like how an unleashed Dragon would completely pacify Earth-Bet, but just enough to keep things stable as we keep laying dominoes in the hope that we'll have the right ones needed to kill Scion in the end. Needs must… Magos is our best option."
And there it was. Their 'only hope.' Rebecca felt it in her bones- this conversation was headed for the same direction as any conversation that had that red-robed lunatic as the main subject: Straight off a cliff and into a pit of depraved absurdity.
"Is there a Path to recruiting Magos into Cauldron?" Their leader asked Contessa who immediately responded.
"Path to Recruiting Magos into Cauldron: 420 Steps."
Relatively and suspiciously short.
"Does it involve playing to the toaster-weirdo's gynoid/AI fetish?" Rebecca asked, despite already knowing the answer. She didn't even need Path to Victory to know what it was. After all, one only needed to know even the most cursory amount about Magos to know that the answer was…
"Yes, most of the steps in that path revolve around it." Contessa confirmed, and Rebecca sighed in dismay.
"Earth- every earth- is about to be destroyed within two decades, and it still boils down to him being able to stick his dick into some robot's sockets."
"That is the quickest path to him." the Thinker reassured her and the others, "For contrast, Path to Recruiting Magos into Cauldron without playing to his gynoid/AI fetish: 5180 Steps."
Rebecca sighed again. She wasn't even surprised anymore. Disappointed, yes; but hardly surprised. In addition to the unrestrained transhumanism and devout worship of technology that were core beliefs in the Tinker's identity, it was also almost impossible to discuss Magos without broaching the topic of how he shamelessly flaunts his fetish for everything synthetic intelligence.
And any attempt to exploit his so-called weakness was thwarted by the simple fact that no one knew how to do so. He was a whirlpool of insanity that sucked everyone down to his level before handily beating them with his extensive experience in robo-degeneracy.
Even Dragon was still unsure how to deal with his exotic fetish, and it said something about Magos when even the AI who he lusts after was unable to fully comprehend him.
"I am still ambivalent about how I feel about AIs." Doctor Mother shared, "But this is negligible price to pay- especially if those AIs end up subservient to him- they can help with saving humanity. What about his identity? Is there anything new to learn that we can leverage from that?"
"Nothing." Contessa responded- navy blue eyes glancing at them for just a second before returning to her game and leaving a whisper for them to think about, "Not even he remembers anymore."
The room fell silent at the implication.
"I think I know who he was." Eidolon- David- spoke up for the first time in the meeting and garnered the attention of everyone in the room apart from Contessa.
"Magi Tinker: Involves problems of self… Controller Tinker: Involves isolation, detachment or depression." He enumerated the two specific subclassifications of Tinkers that Magos fell under, "Chronic illnesses had left him bedridden since childhood. Abandoned by everyone he knew, he triggered from the isolation, and made it his goal to somehow tinker himself the affection that he had craved."
Rebecca stiffened in her seat and turned towards him- a deep bitter frown on her face.
"He's not Hero." She whispered- tone of voice ice cold. Just the comparison that he had drawn between Magos and their fallen comrade's humble origins that were so similar to her own… The memory of a blond man in golden power armour was still fresh in her mind as well as the time he belonged in.