A Fantastic Child (FF/Worm)

Agent Miller had seen her share of bad days in the PRT. Gang wars, parahuman skirmishes, and protests that turned bloody. But nothing, absolutely nothing, matched the storm that swallowed Brockton Bay that morning.

An Endbringer's attack was never something you got used to. It was the worst-case scenario, a moment that nobody would wish on their enemies, a moment whereby the whole world waited with bated breath, waiting for the unfortunate city to be hit, praying it wouldn't be theirs, and hoping that whichever city was attacked survived enough to not tank the world economy.

Miller had prayed those prayers multiple times, on her knees in front of the statue of the Holy Mary, Mother of God. She had joined hundreds of her fellow Catholics to pray for her city. It seemed like God was not inclined to answer her prayers today.

The rain hadn't stopped since morning, since the first siren tore through the city announcing an Endbringer's attack, and the second one roared shortly after, confirming the location of the attack as Brockton Bay. It came down in walls, blinding, relentless, hammering the city into submission. By the time the evacuation orders hit, most of the city was already half-underwater.

Inside a PRT van, Agent Miller tried to keep her hands steady on the wheel, maneuvering past scrambling civilians and first responders who tried their damnedest to guide the civilians away from the main roads and into shelters. A roadblock ahead caused her to turn the steering wheel as she branched into a side alleyway.

She lost a side mirror, and the armored van was going to have a few scratches on its flank after the maneuver, but it was worth it. She had to get back to the safest part of the city. Most of the underground bunkers and shelters around here were going to be filled, but there were PRT-allocated slots for troopers with families that they could send in. Miller didn't have anyone, so she supposed the child could take her spot. She pressed down harshly on the pedal and continued her journey through the rain.

Miller had seen storms before. As a proper Brocktonite, she was not a stranger to heavy downpours coming into the bay, but nothing like this. Already, the main streets were turning into rivers, forcing civilians to climb over cars, and older buildings were already beginning to sag like rotting paper. The van's huge tires kept her afloat, and its wipers barely kept pace with the downpour, each sweep only smearing the floodlights' glow.

In the back, buckled into a seat far too big for him, sat the child. Maybe three years old. Pale blonde hair plastered against his forehead, wide blue eyes staring out the window as if the incoming apocalypse outside was just another cartoon show.

Orders had been simple: sweep evac zones for stragglers, bring in anyone left behind. She hadn’t expected to find a baby.

They'd found him hours earlier, alone, standing barefoot in a flooded intersection, as if he'd simply appeared. No ID, no family, only a blue and white jumpsuit with a giant number four plastered on the chest area. They had frisked the boy a bit and found a name tag sewn into the inner collar.

Franklin Benjamin Richards.

Somehow, in the middle of Leviathan's approach, Miller had been the one ordered to bring him in, to take him to a safe location while her squad continued helping the rest of the first responders to evacuate the rest of the civilians.

Her comms came to life in her ears, blaring and shocking her. "All units, Leviathan has made landfall. Capes engaged. I repeat, contact with Endbringer has begun."

"You hanging in there, kid?" Miller asked, forcing calm into her voice. He looked at her, blinked once, then gave the tiniest smile, one anyone who had ever been close to a baby would recognize. The sight reminded her of her own dead— Miller felt something tighten in her chest.

Then she blinked confused eyes as the smile eased the tightening of her chest as she continued to look at it through the rearview mirror. There was something about him... it was like the world bent around his silence, and she was lighter for it.

The van jolted as the comm in her ear shrieked to life once more. She was tempted to turn off the damn thing, but it was giving her critical information, and if Leviathan had truly made landfall, then she was on a tighter time limit. She needed to get to the shelter soon.

"Leviathan has escaped containment, I repeat, Leviathan has escaped containment. Capes in pursuit, but he's evading them and moving south—"

It took Miller a few seconds to process the words. South of the docks? Then another split second to calculate her position. By the time her eyes widened, it was to the sight of the road splitting ahead of her as water surged like a dam had burst, swallowing cars, tearing chunks of asphalt free. If this was the water that escaped Eidolon's containment, she struggled to imagine the sea he was holding back.

Miller cursed, slammed the brakes, and tried to dodge into another alleyway, but the flood hit first, and in the flood, she caught a glimpse of four glowing green dots, then all was lost as the force of the deluge hit like a battering ram. They were thrown off course as the van was lifted and spun sideways before finally slamming into a half-collapsed wall. Metal screamed and groaned as glass shattered.

She woke seconds—or minutes—later, ears ringing. Pain roared through her arm; broken, definitely broken. The van was also hanging at an awkward angle, half embedded into the broken wall as it was. She coughed up water as she released the seat belt that kept her strapped to her seat. The door was missing, so she fell to the ground, a mess of broken bones. She dragged herself onto her knees as the rain continued to fall. Luckily, whatever spot they landed in was not half as flooded as the rest of the city, as the water only got to her thighs while kneeling.

The comm still crackled, shouting names, Pelter, Quack, Pentinent, Resolute-

But she ignored it, ignored the pain. Fear and desperation drove her as she twisted, eyes scanning the wreckage. Where was the boy?

The answer came, though not the one she wanted. She turned and froze. Her body locked up, every muscle seizing under a primal, instinctive terror.

It wasn’t the boy she found. It was something else. Something monstrous.

Leviathan.

The monster rose from the street like the sea had grown legs. Thirty feet tall, green armor of living scales, water pouring from every crevice. His tail whipped through the wreckage, sending cars tumbling like toys. His eyes burned with an alien emotion she could not put into words, four asymmetrical glowing orbs, and they fixed on her.

No. She trailed the Endbringer's eyes, and it was not looking at her; it was looking over her shoulder. Over at the baby boy.

Her pistol was gone. Her legs barely worked. Her heart beat in her chest like a drum, and a migraine was tearing its way into her head.

She knew what was coming. Yet she would not allow another child to die in front of her. Never again. Like a spell had been released, her limbs unfroze, and she forced herself to her shaky feet before immediately unsheathing her combat knife and holding it in a reverse grip.

There was no God here to save her, and she had too little time to pray, still religion was a comfort for her, so she mentally recited a Hail Mary as she waited with bated breath.

The Endbringer tilted its head in curiosity, like it was amused at her defiance, then it charged, exploding into motion so fast it disappeared.

Miller shut her eyes as she held her knife up, ready to sell her life even if it was for an extra second, an extra second so the actual heroes could come and save the child. Yet a second passed, two, and she still breathed. Her existence was still a pain-fueled thing that told her the truth.

She was still alive.

That realization forced her to open her eyes, and she looked again, blinking surprised eyes as the claw that was meant to bisect her hung in the air, a foot from her chest. Frozen, trembling, as if the universe itself had hit pause. Leviathan let out a screeching roar and tried to force it forward, but space refused to budge.

Miller's breath caught as she stared at the completely stupid and unexplainable scene in front of her. Then once again, she trailed Leviathan's eyes and caught onto what he was looking at. Those unfathomable eyes now radiated anger, not at her. She turned her head, and then she saw him.

The boy.

Half the van had been ripped open, revealing his form. Unmarked, unscarred, and seemingly unfazed by the accident and the wreckage he was in. He still sat strapped into the half-broken seat, hair dripping and plastered to his head, tiny hand stretched lazily toward the Endbringer. His face was calm, curious, like he didn't understand what he was looking at.

She felt the Endbringer jerk in place, like it was struggling to move, to rip her apart and continue on its straight path for the boy. The boy didn't seem to like it.

"No," he whispered, as if scolding a pet.

Leviathan convulsed on the spot and his arm bent back, twisting at impossible angles, the elbow, then the wrist. It was like the hand had been put into a twisting blender that rendered it useless. The Endbringer's tail immediately whipped out in reply, aiming to crack her skull, only to recoil like it had struck an invisible wall.

For the first time since the siren blew, the storm itself seemed to hesitate, rain slanting oddly around them, no, not them, around the child.

And the child... Franklin Richards giggled.

He clapped once, delighted, and Leviathan was immediately folded in half as if the laws of physics had been rewritten. The Endbringer's shriek rattled buildings, but to Franklin it was only noise, a squeaky toy pressed too hard.

Then the sky split open.

A solid beam of pure light cut through the storm, searing Leviathan's flank, and it was followed by a figure. Legend descended like an avenging angel, his lasers hammering the Endbringer into the street.

A loud shot rang out in the distance, Miss Militia, no doubt, Miller guessed, frozen once more in shock and surprise as she was. Alexandria blasted through a building a second later and buried her fist so hard into Leviathan's face, his neck snapped back with a sonic boom that should've deafened her, yet she stood untouched and safe.

Franklin's eyes lit up at the sight in front of him. "Pretty! Pretty lights, pretty lights," he squealed in childlike joy, the Endbringer forgotten in the background as tiny hands went from pointing at the Endbringer to pointing at the streaks of light Legend carved across the sky.

Miller's stomach turned cold. The boy's grip slipped.

Leviathan hit the ground, free again. His tail lashed in a semi-circle, sending the new heroes that had finally caught up flying away and smashing through buildings, sending shockwaves through the flood. Miller hunched, but a split second later, Alexandria appeared in front of her and took the brunt of the damage.

Leviathan didn't hesitate; he turned and did the most unexpected. He ran. Not from the heroes, like some might've thought. Only Miller knew the truth. The Endbringer was running from the child.

"No!" Franklin shouted, suddenly furious, like a child who had lost his toy. The street warped, asphalt bending like paper to pull the Endbringer back to him, but Leviathan was already plunging into the deluge. A great wave of water swallowed him, and within seconds, he was gone, streaking toward the bay with a tidal wave in his wake.

"Leviathan is retreating, I repeat, Leviathan is retreating." Her still surviving earpiece cackled.

Miller lost all strength in her limbs as she suddenly fell to her knees, the adrenaline fueling her diminishing to nothing. The heroes around her remained frozen in surprise as the rain suddenly stopped.

Then slowly, the capes began to regroup.

She glimpsed more than one villain she recognized, battered but alive, as everyone slowly scattered around, scanning the street and searching for survivors. Alexandria remained standing in front of Miller as she looked at the child, a child who had somehow made his way out of his seat and had crawled towards Miller's bleeding and broken form. He looked up at her, his beautiful angel-like features twisted as he sulked.

Miller let out a half-mad laugh at the sight before someone spoke up.

Miss Militia approached, rifle lowered but still tense and wary. "Agent... what happened here?"

Miller swallowed, throat raw. She looked at the child, then at the trail Leviathan had left. Words failed. She wanted to lie, to admit to knowing nothing, yet she need not have bothered. Where she was lost for words, Alexandria wasn't.

"He stopped it," the masked woman noted, surprise in her tone as she peered down on the two of them through her visor. "He stopped Leviathan."

Legend landed nearby, light still crackling around him. He studied the boy, his expression of surprise more visible than Alexandria's. Franklin looked up at him with wide eyes, awestruck, like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time.

"Pretty lights," Franklin said softly. Unconcerned with how much he had just upended the worldview of everyone present.

A/N: Blame this on my cousin who forced me to watch Fantastic Four alongside her last night. She also betaed this, so if any mistakes slip through, you can blame that on her as well. Anyway, if this gets enough traction to make me continue it, it is going to be more slice of life like AOMR was.