It had been long enough. Capacitor had set things into motion, and now it was time to move along with them. For a moment, she closed her eyes - it wasn’t going to be easy. But, given what she’d asked of Williams, she could hardly stand to ask less of herself. She was still hoping he’d manage to do something about the nuclear situation. She had to trust that that one was safe in his hands. She had other things that needed to be attended to.
She stopped poking the shield with projectiles, turning briefly back to the man who’d come to talk, or at least to try to get her to talk. It was all somewhat up in the air. No doubt he had one of Alpha’s phones, which Teja figured was acting as a listening device. Alpha likely had other devices as well - it would be sensible, after all. Always assume the enemy was sensible, and let them surprise you with their mistakes. Better that than the other way around.
”This has gotten out of hand,” she said, to him, but also to Alpha through him. ”There’s an orb of impenetrable darkness. Across the city, there was a nuclear explosion. Alpha might be invested in playing games, but I wasn’t designed to be a gamer. I was designed to be a hero - an agent of the government. For each minute I wait on hostages, people will die because of radiation, because of collateral damage. I’m going to take care of the real problems - and if that means that someone kills me while I’m trying, at least I’m going out like I ought to. You tell her that.”
She thought about ending it there, but it wouldn’t have been right. It wouldn’t have been right, because she knew it very well might be the end. There was a finality to it, and so after a few second’s pause, she added, more softly. ”And… tell Williams I’m sorry. Just that. Let him decide what it ought to be for, this time.”
Capacitor rocked back against the edge of the building for a moment, summoning the magnetic aura she’d started using. Assume, of course, that everything was being recorded - but it wasn’t the first time she’d used her flight trick. It wasn’t well known, but it was out there. No surprises. She launched herself, and pulled the flow to stop herself, landing in a controlled tumble at the edge of a building, just beside the sphere of darkness.
Whatever it was, it was in the city, it devoured everything, and it was the kind of threat she was supposed to be dealing with. Not men with guns or masks, or kids. She raised her hand, not touching the sphere, but coming close, and channeled electric current into the wire wrapped around her hand. Lightning sparked, around her wrist and fingers.
If she was being watched, after all, it might as well be a good show. She glanced up, taking stock of the clouds above. Gray, but it wasn’t raining. It was enough. It would be enough. No, the real question wasn’t whether it was enough, the real question was whether it would be too much.
Capacitor half-smiled, but only for herself. She knew the answer to that one, as well. She started separating charges, running current through the wire wrapped around her hand and over the sphere - not into it, but around it. When she’d shot it with a charged projectile, it had devoured the charge. She wasn’t going to let it have more of her energy than that, though.
But as she knew, maybe better than anyone else, all things had limits - and so while she let her charges flicker over the surface of the giant sphere in a less-than-cautious display of power, she quietly pushed their opposing charges upwards - away, into the clouds above. Lightning energy crackled over the visible portion of the sphere, and above, the thunder rumbled through the clouds. Dry thunder, with the occasional flash of the beginnings of a lightning storm.
Capacitor, of course, could hardly cause a lightning storm. Officially. But she wasn’t officially causing one - the clouds had already been there, after all. She was only… calling it. She collected her charges over the sphere, but concentrated them mostly beneath it, and let the storm build above. It was only a matter of time, after all - opposite charges attracted. She held them at bay, though - she didn’t want them to jump too early.
Not until she’d made sure there were enough. Sometimes, “enough” was something that could be measured. Documented, data collected, carefully engineered to the right amount. In this case, though, she didn’t have the benefit of engineering or technology - she had only herself, and “enough”... well, “enough,” she had decided, was going to mean “all.” She felt it draining away, everything she’d pulled into herself, and still she held the forces apart.
The clouds above darkened, or maybe it was just her vision. She looked up, at the clouds, watching them with the silent, grim confidence of someone who knew what was about to happen. She did know, after all. It was… inevitable. But perhaps necessary. Something had to be done… and this was what she had been designed for.
She just had to hope it was enough. Her capacity bottomed out, and the separation failed. The sky flashed, and the charges sought each other - above and below, through the shortest path - the shield. It had to have a limit to how much it could take. Everything else did.
The backlash caught her and she fell, as unconscious, from the building to the ground, the lightning releasing again at the point of impact, cracking through the foundations of the building, destroying a section of the wall leading into the underground parking garage, leaving a blackened hole of trembling concrete and the blue-white electronic blindness surging to destroy or disrupt any electronic devices in the area, the secondary objective of knocking out Alpha’s control of the game, just like Capacitor had destroyed her own phone in the first moments of the game.
The shock aura was certainly enough to encompass the nearby buildings, maybe the entire block. Far more than in London, where she’d barely been overcharged when the discharge had hit - this time, she’d briefly held an entire storm. Maybe it would be enough to stop the game. Maybe not.
It would certainly be enough to vaporize a body.