Published at 27th of January 2026 7:18 am

Chapter 3 Quinstin Needs A Hero

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Aress power armor is a rusty metallic red machine with bronze embellishments of bald eagles, Celtic crosses, and a spear crossed over a round shield. Instead of saying it is Greek-inspired, Id say the inspirations are a mishmash of several different things. Like abandoned lots, closed factories, and other things boring men in their twenties love, like the Roman Legions, birds of prey, and claiming to be Irish. The overall armor is humanoid in the sense that it has limbs that could be called legs and arms, but thats where the similarities to a person end. Interestingly enough, Ares face is exposed; the suit covers him from the neck down, creating a glaring size difference between the mechanical body and his tiny human head. Hes got a sharp nose, prominent cheekbones, short curly black hair, and an olive complexion that points toward him being of Mediterranean descent.

Just like the rest of the Mount Olympus crew, hes not bothering to wear a mask to hide his identity. The members of the crew dont believe in disguises. You dont need a secret identity when your Cowl persona is the real you. I could never do something like that, even if I do find truth in their Neuvohuman superiority ideals. Its an objective fact that Neuvohumans are superior. We have powers that boggle the mind and allow us to accomplish things that regular people could never hope to. Even then, I dont necessarily agree that we should rule over humans just by virtue of having abilities. Thats why being able to redistribute Neuvohuman powers to those who actually deserve them is so important.

The main body of the machine is egg-shaped, made of overlapping metal sheets riveted together in a haphazardly manner. The legs are as long as a sedan and wider than hula hoops with giant springs wrapped around the legs like electric coils. The legs are connected to bronze domes with forks of rebar coming off them in all four cardinal directions. His armor has asymmetrical arms; one is a triple-jointed, six-clawed hand, and the other looks like he yanked the excavator drill off one of a Cat construction vehicle and attached it as an arm. Theres a curved shoulder pauldron adorned with hundreds of sharp screws over the clawed limb. The other side has a shoulder-mounted minigun.

Mount Olympus is widely considered the strongest Cowl group in Quinstin. Thats primarily due to just how overwhelmingly powerful Apollo is. Not to say that the rest arent up to snuff, but they are not in the same realm as him. Apollos one of the fastest Travellers, Hades' summons are endless, and Athena is an all-around dangerous combatant. Comparatively, Aress current mech suit leaves a lot to be desired. The weapons arent of the usual caliber he creates. The paint is chipped, the finish old and faded. It lacks the aesthetic appeal that Kais drones or Aubreys helmets have. It looks thrown together, like he built it at a junkyard. Why would he choose for it to look like this? Is there any practical reason to make his Tinkertech look worse than it actually is? The only answer I can think of is that the power armor was made to be disposable. Ares doesnt have any other powers, so if his mech is destroyed, he would be left defenseless. Theres something more to this. I dont see any of the other members of his group, but Hermes could be across the city and arrive here in seconds. What benefit would he get by abandoning his suit here?

My focus is broken by the arrival of a Cape on the scene. An absurdly large wolf made of metal tackles Ares, knocking the mechaman back and carving a trail through the pavement: Ferrol, the Shifter who can create metallic weapons out of seemingly nothing. A quick glance at Isaiah shows how eager he is to get involved. Hes become more like Vivienne since he gained Ciggs power. I dont know what its like to crave violence. Isaiahs eyes are predatory, and his grin is anticipatory. We have places to be. But gathering more information on the other players is never a bad thing. Ares meets the incoming follow-up charge from Ferrol with his excavator arm, the drill creating a high-pitched whining grinding sound that manages to block out the screams of civilians running for safety. What the hell, we can get closer.

Lets check out the battle ahead, I said, breaking Isaiah from the trance the scene has on him.

You sure? He asked, concern for my safety present in his tone.

Yes, Im sure, I said, the modulated voice changer giving my words a sharp edge.

Alright. I wont let anything happen to you, Nobody. I swear it, he pledged.

I know you wont, I said, stepping out of the car.

Isaiah gets out, holding his hand against the hood of the Mustang. The purple metallic finish begins to darken bit by bit as it dissolves into billowing black smoke. He exhales from his nostrils, the same black smog coming out of it and forming into an oval cloud in front of his face. The cloud solidifies, becoming the gold hockey mask hes been wearing as of late. The smoke from the car swirls around us, becoming a hazy orb that obscures us from anyone who might see us. He controls it, having it follow along as we approach the two titanium titans tussling. We pass abandoned vehicles still running with the keys in them, their drivers having run for their lives as soon as Ares appeared. One of the Neuvohuman Accords most popular benefits is that insurance companies were forced to get rid of the act of god clauses. They cannot increase your premium or deny your claim if your property is destroyed as a result of a Neuvohuman attack. Because of that, people arent willing to get injured defending their property.

Isaiah summons his two modified hand cannons, smoke trailing off of them like they're some sort of demonic armament forged by the devil himself. From what I know about the custom weapons, the kickback is so strong it would snap my wrist clean off if I tried to fire it. Each gun is over fifteen pounds, and without Dynaxs power, there is no way Isaiah would be able to handle them. But he does have Dynax's power, so he's wielding his pistols like they're weightless. He steps in front of me, taking the lead as we get closer. If I were normal, Id find his level of concern and loyalty touching. He wants to be able to intercept anything coming at us.

Ferrol leaps forward only to be intercepted by Ares' clawed arm crashing into his face, sending him down into the pavement. Cracks spread across the cement, creating spiderweb fractures. Ferrol deftly rolls to the side to avoid the follow-up attack and ends up crushing a truck beneath his massive weight. He jumps back, creating space between the two of them, and growls at Ares. Can he not talk while transformed? What an odd limitation for his power to have. Three chrome swirling circles appear above Ferrol, pointed straight at Ares. The Olympian holds his clawed arm out, and a panel on it pops open at the wrist, revealing a cluster of rockets. Broadhead arrow-tipped javelins the size of telephone poles shoot out of Ferrols portals like a jet taking off. They chew up the distance so fast that they whistle as they fly forward through the air. Ares rotates out of the way of two of the projectiles, using one of his legs clamped to the pavement. One of the javelins pierces through the back of a bus all the way to the front, hitting the engine, causing it to explode in a shower of shrapnel. A piece of the bumper comes flying at us so fast that I don't have time to dodge out of the way. Isaiah's hand snaps out to grab it like a snake springing toward a mouse, halting all momentum of it and saving my life.

Thank you, I said.

Ive let you down twice. Once with ORourke, and once with Glow Guardian. There wont be a third.

Because of the near-death experience, I didn't see where the other javelin hit. It isn't too hard to find, though; it's buried halfway into the granite wll of the Eastern Bank across the street. We resume walking slowly after the two of them, following their fight as it continues down the street. Uprooting trees, crushing cars, and carving swathes out of buildings, they battle with no regard for the destruction their fight is causing. As we get closer, I notice that the third javelin found purchase in the right shoulder of the power suit. The excavator drill arm is hanging loosely; Ferrols attack destroyed the machinery and wires.

To the untrained eye, it looks like the Cape is pressing Ares, but certain details say otherwise. Ares hasn't fired the rockets, which means he doesn't think they're necessary. Additionally, the existence of the hidden weapon would suggest the possibility of more of them; we haven't seen the full extent of what it can do. Then there's the matter of him coming alone and using hastily assembled Tinkertech; is it an explosive? Is that his plan, lure as many Capes as he can to the location and then take them out along with a chunk of the city?

Ferrol pounces at Ares, trying to bite through one of the legs of his power armor. Ares catches the metallic wolf by the neck and tosses him back into the fifth floor of a nearby building. The twenty-ton canine crushes metal, glass, and concrete like a hot knife through butter. Ferrol sinks through the floors like theyre comprised of wet paper. Ares minigun roars to life, tracking the wolf through the building and peppering him with bullets. His firing shreds through the falling debris, collapsing floors, and unfortunate occupants caught in the crossfire. Whatever caliber round his gun uses is punching through everything like a boot hitting rotting fruit. This is getting out of hand. While this kind of destruction and loss of life does help the narrative I want, wanton slaughter isn't good for business. Having Isaiah intervene will make an enemy out of the wanna be Olympians earlier than intended. But if I'm right, and Ares has a bomb built into his current suit, there's no way of telling how much damage he could do to the city. Isaiah begins to move again until I hold up my hand to make him stop. The solution is simple, so simple I can't believe I didn't immediately think of it. My helmet rings as I call the perfect man for the job.

Hey, boss, what's up? Miles greeted me.

Hello, Miles. How are you doing?

Im great, Nobody. Whats up?

Are you in the middle of something?

No, not at all. What can I do for you? He asked eagerly.

Ares is battling Ferrol on Central Ave, and I believe this is an excellent opportunity for you to show everyone what a real Cape looks like. The two of them have already wrecked a block and show no signs of stopping. Theres also a very high chance that Ares has a bomb he plans to detonate. Quinstin needs a Hero, Miles; Quinstin needs you, I said.

I'm on my way, Miles responded before I heard the click of the call ending.

I know you wanted to get involved, but Miles is on his way here. It's time for us to leave, Isaiah, I said apologetically.

Its okay. I dont mind letting the guy share in the spotlight. Im quite the team player, he said.

His guns dissipate as he turns left to get off the street. I follow after him, avoiding the flaming overturned vehicles and jumping over the giant potholes. He summons back his Mustang once we're a bit farther from the scene. Sirens scream in the distance, emergency services on their way to put out fires and save lives. Ferrol's team has definitely mobilized and will be there soon. I deactivate my helmet, letting it fall off my face into my palm. I don't spare a glance behind at the destruction. It's all up to you now, Miles. Don't let me down.

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