RWD: Omake: Hollowpoint VS Alexandria

This scene might not(Maybe, not certain yet) make the final draft. I decided to polish it and share it with you just in case. Warning, will contain minor spoilers

The coffee had gone cold twenty minutes ago, but Sarah Martinez couldn't bring herself to look away from the television screen. Her apartment felt smaller with the weight of what she was witnessing—a live debate that had started as a carefully orchestrated PR damage control exercise and devolved into something that felt more like watching a building collapse in slow motion.

The studio lighting was harsh, clinical in the way that suggested someone had spent considerable time calculating optimal camera angles and shadow placement. On the left side of the split screen sat Director Rebecca Costa-Brown, her straight black hair perfectly styled, wearing the navy blue suit that had become synonymous with federal authority. Every line of her posture spoke of absolute confidence, a woman who had navigated Washington politics for decades and emerged victorious from every encounter.

On the right sat a figure that Sarah's brain still struggled to process as real. The recently notorious cape, Hollowpoint, had appeared via secured video link, his face obscured by a simple black mask that revealed only dark eyes and a jawline that suggested someone younger than his voice indicated. He wore what appeared to be a charcoal business suit, impeccably tailored, sitting in what looked like a corporate boardroom. The contrast was deliberate, Sarah realised—not the tactical gear he seemed to favour or an intimidating costume one might expect from a villain of his calibre, but the uniform of someone who considered himself a legitimate authority figure.

"The question before us tonight," the moderator was saying, though her voice seemed to fade into background noise, "is whether recent events in Brockton Bay represent necessary evolution in law enforcement methodology, or dangerous vigilantism that threatens the foundations of civil society."

Sarah had been following the story since the attack on the PRT headquarters three days ago. The footage was everywhere—social media, news networks, conspiracy forums. A federal officer beaten in his office, in broad daylight, by a figure in PRT uniform. The government's claims of impersonation. Counter-claims of a conspiracy or an insurrection in light of the PRT’s recent actions. The internet had divided into camps, and Sarah found herself disturbed by how many people seemed to be seriously considering the perspective of villains who had snuck into a federal facility to beat up a man because they did not like his policies.

Costa-Brown spoke first, her voice carrying a measured authority. "Let me establish the fundamental issue at stake. This villainous organisation, which has ironically chosen to dub itself “The Peacekeepers”, has committed multiple homicides, impersonated federal officers on multiple occasions, executed a prisoner who was in lawful custody, engaged in multiple acts of kidnapping and grand larceny, and assaulted a federal employee due to disagreements with federal policy. These are not the actions of reputable members of society. These are the actions of terrorists."

Hollowpoint's response came without hesitation, his voice carrying an odd formality that reminded Sarah of nature documentaries—clinical, precise, describing predator behaviour without emotional investment. "The Director's characterisation is both inaccurate and revealing. Director Tagg’s actions were unconstitutional and unnecessarily endangered the public, hence requiring an immediate and unconventional intervention due to the federal government’s lethargic response. Also, the individuals eliminated by my organisation were not civilians. They were active combatants in criminal organisations that had demonstrably failed to respond to conventional law enforcement methods. Thomas Calvert was a traitor who had compromised federal security for years while operating under your oversight. The only error in his execution was the fact that it took so long.”

"You're describing murder," Costa-Brown said, her voice carrying the weight of moral authority. "Due process exists for a reason. The Constitution guarantees—"

"The Constitution," Hollowpoint interrupted, "was written by men who lived in a world without parahumans. A world where the most dangerous individual might kill a dozen people with significant effort and planning. It was not designed to address individuals who can level city blocks with a thought or turn entire populations into puppets. Your adherence to eighteenth-century legal frameworks in the face of twenty-first-century existential threats is not principled—it is suicidal. You frame my actions as an assault on the law, but fail to address whether the law, as currently constituted, serves its intended purpose. Thomas Calvert operated a criminal conspiracy for years under PRT oversight, kidnapped a minor, and compromised federal security. The 'rule of law' you reference failed catastrophically to prevent these crimes or protect their victims."

Costa-Brown's expression didn't shift, but Sarah caught a slight tightening around her eyes. "The system worked. Calvert was identified, arrested, tried, and convicted. Justice was being served through proper channels."

"All due to MY intervention," Hollowpoint replied. "Also, Coil would have escaped had I not intervened a second time. Already, his conspiracy inflicted measurable harm on hundreds of individuals over multiple years. Are you really suggesting I should have risked letting him walk free? A rational system would have eliminated the threat the moment sufficient evidence was obtained, not provided the perpetrator with multiple opportunities to evade justice."

"And who determines 'sufficient evidence'?" Costa-Brown's voice remained steady, but there was steel beneath it now. "You? What oversight exists on your judgment? What prevents you from eliminating inconvenient rivals under the guise of law enforcement?"

"The same mechanisms that theoretically prevent your organisation from doing so—competence, accountability to results, and rational self-interest in maintaining public support. The difference is that my methods produce measurable outcomes rather than procedural compliance."

Costa-Brown's expression hardened.  "Your 'measurable outcomes' include the murder of civilians. The Herren Clan massacre—"

"Involved the elimination of individuals who had committed multiple homicides and were actively planning additional crimes. Every person eliminated had a demonstrable criminal history that your organisation had failed to address effectively. These were not civilians—they were combatants in criminal organisations."

"They were American citizens entitled to due process under the Constitution. The rule of law exists precisely because, without it, we become no better than the criminals we fight. What you're advocating is might-makes-right authoritarianism. History provides countless examples of well-intentioned authorities who abandoned legal constraints and became the very threats they claimed to fight."

"History also provides examples of societies that failed to adapt to changing circumstances and ceased to exist," Hollowpoint said, and Sarah could hear something like amusement in his voice. "The Roman Republic's inability to evolve beyond city-state governance led to imperial collapse. Constitutional flexibility is not constitutional abandonment—it's constitutional survival. My methods stopped the E88 permanently—your methods let them metastasise for years. Your 'rule of law' has produced Brockton Bay—a city where gang warfare was an accepted reality for decades, where children were recruited as soldiers by criminal organisations, where a federal conspiracy operated for years undetected. Tell me, Director, how many people died while you followed proper procedures?"

The question hung in the air like smoke. Sarah realised she'd been holding her breath.

"What you're advocating isn't flexibility—it's the complete abandonment of checks and balances in favour of might-makes-right authoritarianism,” Costa-Brown finally said. “Constitutional principles exist precisely because power without limits inevitably becomes tyranny. What you're describing is execution without trial. Summary justice. That's not law enforcement, that's—"

"Effective," Hollowpoint cut her off. "Thomas Calvert is dead. His criminal organisation is dismantled. The child he held captive has been freed. The grip he had on the government has been excised. These results were achieved in days, not years. In comparison, your organisation has operated in Brockton Bay for decades. In that time, organised crime flourished, gang warfare became normalised, and federal agents were suborned by criminal conspiracies. These outcomes represent systematic failure, not unfortunate anomalies. Tell me, Director, which approach better serves the public interest?"

Sarah found herself nodding before she realised it. The logic was horrifying, but it was logic. When her cousin had been killed in a robbery two years ago, the investigation had taken months. The parahuman perpetrator had been arrested, released on bail, and promptly disappeared. Meanwhile, this masked figure had apparently cleaned up the city's criminal element in four weeks.

Costa-Brown's response came without pause, her voice carrying decades of bureaucratic authority. "The PRT has prevented countless tragedies, contained multiple S-class threats, and maintained stability in a world where individuals possess the power of military units. Success in our field is measured not by problems eliminated, but by catastrophes prevented."

"Prevention implies the ability to project future outcomes and take proactive measures. Your organisation consistently reacts to threats after they manifest rather than eliminating them before they develop. This is management, not prevention."

"Because we operate under legal constraints that prevent us from acting on speculation or insufficient evidence. The moment law enforcement begins eliminating people based on projected future crimes, we've crossed the line into pre-crime punishment."

"Director Costa-Brown raises the spectre of pre-crime punishment, but fails to address the reality of post-crime inadequacy," Hollowpoint said. "Tell me, Director, in the past year, how many high-value criminal targets have escaped PRT custody before they could be transferred to the Birdcage?"

The silence stretched uncomfortably long.

"I don't have those statistics readily available," Costa-Brown said finally.

"Seventeen," Hollowpoint said. "Seventeen confirmed escapes from PRT custody in the past twelve months, including one Class-S threat and three individuals with kill orders. Your 'lawful' methods have a seventy-three per cent recidivism rate for parahuman criminals. Meanwhile, the individuals eliminated by my organisation have a zero per cent recidivism rate. Of those currently in the Birdcage, how many were repeat offenders who had previously been released or escaped from lesser facilities?"

Sarah's phone buzzed again. Social media was exploding. The hashtag #HollowpointDebate was trending nationally. Comment threads filled with people demanding to know where he'd gotten those statistics, others calling for his immediate arrest, still others asking why the PRT had never released those numbers publicly.

Costa-Brown was frowning now. "You're cherry-picking statistics to justify murder. Yes, the system isn't perfect, but—"

"The system is fundamentally broken," Hollowpoint interrupted. "You operate under the assumption that criminal organisations can be managed rather than eliminated, that dangerous parahumans can be reformed rather than removed, that public safety is secondary to procedural compliance. These assumptions are not merely incorrect—they are actively harmful to the people you claim to protect.” 

The villain sighed as he seemed to recollect his thoughts. “I will not pretend like you aren’t trying your best to manage the problems at hand using the cards you’ve been dealt,” he said. “Indeed, the Birdcage has never been breached, making it a suitable containment for truly problematic capes. It is also true that it represents the ultimate sanction for those who cannot be reformed or safely contained elsewhere. But we all seem to be forgetting that ultimate sanction implies finality. Yet the Birdcage consumes enormous resources to maintain prisoners who will never be released and cannot contribute to society. Execution would achieve the same protective effect at a fraction of the cost. More proof pointing to the fact that the state is addressing the parahuman problem suboptimally: The Birdcage is an admission of failure—you can't reform or contain these threats, so you hide them away and hope they don't escape. I solve problems permanently instead of postponing them for future generations."

"What are you suggesting?" Costa-Brown's voice carried a note of annoyance now. "Martial law? Summary executions? A police state?"

"A rational state. One that prioritises effective problem-solving over bureaucratic process. One that recognises that some threats cannot be negotiated with, reformed, or contained—only eliminated. One that acknowledges that the safety of the general population outweighs the civil liberties of those who have demonstrated their willingness to harm it."

Sarah realised she was gripping the armrest of her couch hard enough to leave marks. The argument was seductive in its clarity, terrifying in its implications. She thought about her morning commute through downtown, past the memorial where Gallant had died, through neighbourhoods that still bore scars from gang warfare. She thought about the fear that had become background noise in her life, the constant awareness that violent death could arrive without warning because someone with superpowers had decided normal people were acceptable casualties.

"What you're describing," Costa-Brown said, "is fascism."

"What I'm describing," Hollowpoint replied, "is competence. Democracy only works when threats can be voted away. When a cape can kill a thousand people before your oversight committee approves a response, your precious procedures become complicity in mass murder. The PRT has managed conflicts, not resolved them. You've created a system where criminal organisations are treated as legitimate political entities to be negotiated with rather than eliminated. Where mass murderers are given comfortable prison sentences instead of summary execution. Where 'de-escalation' takes precedence over public safety. You've turned law enforcement into social work and then wondered why crime flourishes.” 

“It is annoying the guardrails you let restrain your actions. Your 'Unwritten Rules' let idiots like Kaiser recruit for a decade while you played patty-cake with Nazis. You treat gang warfare like a sporting event instead of the terrorism it actually represents. You spend millions on public relations while Merchants flood the streets with drugs. You hold committee meetings while children disappear. I spend money on results—safer streets, eliminated threats, and actual protection for civilians. These 'gentlemen's agreements' between heroes and villains are a joke that civilians pay for in blood. When Lung burns down a building, you don't arrest him at his civilian job the next day because it might 'escalate.' Tell that to the families of his victims. And before you raise that matter, I will tell you I have heard that argument enough times to begin to find its idiocy grating; True, the Endbringers are a concern, but there are always more effective ways to deal with them that do not require the acceptance of criminality as a way of life in our society." 

“The PRT has had decades to address the threats facing this nation. Instead, you've institutionalised failure, created a bureaucratic structure that prioritises its own survival over public safety, and convinced the population that chaos is preferable to order because order might be imperfect. The result is a society where children develop supernatural abilities and immediately turn to crime because they understand, correctly, that there are no meaningful consequences for their actions."

The moderator tried to interject, but Costa-Brown was already responding. "Don’t pretend like your organisation acts as a result of some superior moral clarity—you are still criminals. Breaking and entering, kidnapping, torture, murder. You've become the very threat you claim to eliminate. The very threat that would be the first to go in such a ‘Rational State’."

Hollowpoint’s response came like a whip. "I've become effective only where legitimate authority failed. The moral distinction between legal and illegal action becomes meaningless when legal action consistently fails to protect the innocent."

"That's the justification used by every terrorist organisation in history. 'Legitimate authority failed, so we'll replace it with our own.' How are you different from the gangs you've eliminated?"

"Results. Gang activity and violent crime in Brockton Bay are at historic lows. These outcomes speak to effectiveness rather than ideology."

Costa-Brown's eyes never left the camera, but Sarah could see her mind working, processing angles and responses. "Short-term stability achieved through terror isn't sustainable. Fear-based compliance creates underground resistance that eventually explodes into worse violence."

"Fear-based compliance assumes the governed oppose the governing authority. Public polling indicates seventy-three per cent approval for recent law enforcement actions in Brockton Bay. The population appears to prefer effective governance over procedural governance."

"Public opinion isn't a reliable metric for justice. Popular support for authoritarian solutions often increases during periods of instability—that doesn't make authoritarianism correct."

"Neither does unpopular support for ineffective solutions make them correct. The question isn't whether my methods are popular, but whether they produce better outcomes for the general population than existing alternatives."

Costa-Brown shifted tactics, her voice taking on a more personal tone. "Let's discuss accountability. When the PRT makes mistakes, we face congressional oversight, media scrutiny, and public accountability. When you make mistakes, who reviews your decisions? Who can overrule you? Who can remove you from power?"

I'm accountable to every family that sleeps safely because the Merchants aren't pushing drugs to their children. You're accountable to politicians who've never seen a cape fight. Who's really serving the public interest?"

"That's not accountability. And the politicians you claim we are accountable to are, in turn, accountable to the people who vote them into power. When Congress decides the PRT needs to be restructured, or the President decides directors need to be replaced. Power transitions occur through established mechanisms, and even they operate under constitutional constraints that limit their power and provide mechanisms for peaceful transition. You're asking for the same trust without any of the safeguards."

"I'm asking for judgment based on results rather than procedures. Your constitutional constraints have produced Brockton Bay's decades of managed decline. My methods have produced measurable improvement in weeks. Results are the ultimate accountability."

The moderator tried to interject, but Costa-Brown was already responding. "Temporary improvement. What's your long-term plan? Permanent martial law? Execution for increasingly minor crimes? Where does it end?"

"Where it needs to end—when criminal organisations no longer pose existential threats to civilian populations. The methodology adapts to the threat environment rather than remaining static regardless of circumstances."

"Which is exactly what every authoritarian regime has claimed. 'Temporary measures' that become permanent features. 'Emergency powers' that never get returned. You're describing the standard playbook of democratic collapse."

"I'm describing adaptive governance in response to evolving threats. Your alternative—rigid adherence to failing systems—represents democratic suicide, not democratic preservation. And before you start with the moral grandstanding, let us address the PRT’s conflict of interest.”

Costa-Brown didn't hesitate. "There is no such thing."

“Really,” Hollowpoint sneered. “So, it is just a coincidence that every criminal organisation that continues to operate validates your budget requests. Every ongoing threat justifies your expanded authority. Every failure demonstrates the need for more resources, more personnel, and more time. You have created a system that profits from perpetual crisis; surely, that would explain why crises seem to perpetuate with no end in sight.

Sarah realised her mouth was open. What?

The Director was angry now. "That is a baseless, outrageous accusation—"

"It is an accurate assessment. I have said this before, and I will say it again: Your organisation's primary function is not public safety but institutional self-preservation. You do not solve problems because solved problems eliminate the justification for your existence. Instead, you manage problems, contain them, negotiate with them, study them—anything except eliminate them permanently."

"That's a baseless lie, and you know it!" Costa-Brown snapped, visibly incensed. She appeared deeply offended by the allegation. "The PRT has done everything within its power to protect this country’s citizens."

"If that's true," Hollowpoint replied coldly, "then your failure can only be explained in two ways: staggering incompetence—or deliberate restraint."

"Ladies and gentlemen," the moderator said, finally finding her voice in the silence that ensued, "we're going to take a short commercial break, but when we return—"

Sarah hit the mute button, but couldn't bring herself to change the channel. The apartment felt too quiet, the weight of what she'd just witnessed settling around her like dust after an explosion.

Her phone buzzed with a call from her mother. Sarah stared at it, knowing what the conversation would be about, knowing that everything had just changed in ways she couldn't fully comprehend yet.

Outside her window, the city continued its normal rhythm, unaware that the foundations of everything they'd accepted as permanent had just been challenged on live television by a masked man in a business suit who spoke about murder with the casual precision of a quarterly earnings report.

Sarah picked up the phone.

"Mom," she said. "Yeah, I'm watching it too."