Tone didn’t use his given name much anymore. Kenny Flynn was a name on his social security card & bank accounts. It was annoying to hear this artificial interaction with the economy every time he bought a coffee. But it would have been even more irksome if every Financial transaction became familiar. He needed to be aware when those kinds of things became too comfortable. He’d gotten used to being invincible before.

He was formerly known as the Metal Tone (a rockstar superhero). Every 4 yr old boy’s daydream goal. He had a cool super suit from the Silver Falcon & the ultimate Instrument. He could drop whole gangs or super terrorist cells at once with that baby. Iron Mask would get so pissed when his soldier minions dropped like that. Now, he had to register to buy a guitar and the government freaked to find out if he walked outside with a harmonica in his pocket.
He’d gotten comfortable and the corporations almost took his music. Let them label his power (which amounted to little more than a super sense of rhythm on its own) a threat to the public.

What he had now, he kept by paying attention. It was how he knew something was wrong with the guy who walked into the coffee shop after him. To everyone else, the guy was perfectly normal. Another regular that came in for his bagel & coffee, and to have a quiet moment sitting near the window till he went to his next meeting.
The guy did get some attention, as most Idealeon clients did after their treatments. Though this guy had been made for a more down-to-earth put people at case sort of look. But Idealeon couldn’t help putting on that extra polish. His clothes were a little too clean, his haircut was a little too styled, and his teeth were too white to go unnoticed. But he didn’t make anyone uncomfortable.

Only Tone picked up that he wasn’t normal. Then when Tone really paid attention, it was obvious that he was artificial. The guy’s breathing, movement, field of attention; all too smooth & regulated, even for a cyborg. This guy was hacked, & playing out a pre-programmed routine. Which meant something was about to happen.

First things first. Tone needed to get out of the Cyborg’s perception. So, he grabbed a straw on his way out, and with a quick fold turned it into a whistle with the right pitch. so he disappeared from the Cyborg’s perception as he closed the door. Now love was as good as invisible to the guy’s sensors. A scrambled blank in the memory banks, as long as he didn’t draw attention to himself. Soon the guy came out of the shop to full of the rest of his program. The cyborg was heading towards Commercial Street. Banks & lots of everyday civilians. Perfect setting for some kind of showy dust up. Cars would be tossed, store fronts busted up. Too many people who could be caught up in that. That was the company’s MO. Some corporate sabotage and good PR all in one very dangerous stunt that couldn’t be traced back to them. Only over the hill burnouts like Tone, or crazy conspiracy theorist ever had anything bad to say about Idealeon. And the company made sure that they were all discredited afterward.

Tone kept up short bursts of his whistle to scramble the cyborg’s memory. Keeping the intervals regular enough to seem to an like a naturally occurring interference…. Eventually, the cyborg made its way to a closed parking garage, just a little ways from the main street.

“A blip in reception won’t cover me if I’m out in the oven with no crowd around me. And there’s no time to call any of the old crew.”

Tone ducked behind a truck parked on the opposite side of the road. He moved to the entrance as soon as his target passed through, straining his ears for the faint sound of robotic footsteps moving deeper in. He could just hear movement in the garage, but without some means of producing clearer more controlled sounds he wouldn’t be able to gain any hints on what would be in there waiting for him. Luckily, he heard a the high pitched sound of a recorder being played around the corner, by a homeless street busker.

“Hey what’s your name?” Tone asked.

“Joe.”

“Quick, how much for that old recorder?”

“Are you kidding? This is all I’ve got. I don’t play I don’t eat.”

“OK. I’ve got all the cash. Let me buy it now. I’ll buy you a new one later & teach you how to play better.”

“Yeah, right?!”

Tone than proceeded to whistle a series of scales; then a short but perfect tune.

“Fine. Deal. But I’ll remember you if you screw me. Money first.”

Tone held out the money as Joe the Busker surrendered the recorder. Tone tested the instrument with a few soulful tunes (which further impressed Joe) then headed into the parking garage.

Sure enough, a couple of goons with concealed weapons were guarding the way to the lower level. Tone ducked behind a car & waited for a second, checking their movements, breathing, shuffling, banter… It was all organic. No robots. Tone began to play, angling the sound waves to bounce off the walls making the goons think the sound came behind them. Then as their backs were turned he ran up behind to play a soft series of notes that would put them to sleep. Tone almost flubbed the finish as one of the smarter goons heard his steps from behind and turned his gun on him: But Tone side stepped before the goon could get a bead on him. A moment later all three of the guards dropped to the ground asleep.

“Got to check what I’m dealing with.”

Tone blow a shrill, echoing note. As it bounced off the interior, Tone used all of his enhanced senses to perceive where the sound reverberated, creating a brief imperfect form of echolocation. The sound revealed that the cyborg was a floor down, about to activate a military grade level IV armor mech.

Oh Sh#! he thought.

Almost instinctively, he blew a shrill note that got the cyborg’s attention, then raised the pitch till it reached the frequency that began to interfere with its internal processor. Unfortunately, the cyborg’s technology was too advanced to definitively short out. All TONE’s lung power could only give the recorder enough volume to slow the cyborg’s motions. Just enough for Tone to catch up and tackle him before he could enter the exo suit.

But the cyborg was still much stronger. So, Tone had to keep playing the recorder to dodge the crushing strength of it’s hands. But a moment later, his breath ran out & the cyborg figured out what was slowing it down. It grabbed a stone & made a throw precisely aimed at the recorder. Tone had to take the hit in the shoulder to save the instrument, but his arm went numb at the impact & the note faltered. The cyborg used the time to enter the mech & close the hatch.

“Crap”

Tone ran for cover as the suit powered up.

“What I wouldn’t give for the old sound system.”

He needed an answer fast. He began playing a low rumbling sequence of notes as he ran to the center support of the Parking structure. When the mech got up it would have to be careful of damaging that or risk the garage collapsing on it. It would be able to eventually dig itself out but the delayed would be enough for other unplanned heroes to show up and steal Idealeon’s spotlight.

The Mech stocked over. It was large enough to give Rivet Rose’s custom demolisher exo suit some serious damage. And it was loaded with ordnance. Tone listened carefully to the echoes. Nothing helpful came back. There was no weaknesses in the building to exploit either. No note that he could reach at his volume would be enough to damage the mech or the building. One option then.

He ran to another column. Barely avoiding the more deadly shots from the mech’s gun. But not enough not to take one in the leg before he got to cover. He heard the mech’s shoulder-mounted payload activate, & prayed the missiles weren’t super sonic. He blow into the recorder as hard as he could. The missile fired towards & then veered toward the main support pillar where he’d just been. His leg felt like a hot spike was being jabbed into it, but be ran as fast as he could for the garage exit as the floor above started to collapse onto them. Instead of where he was. Tome managed
to dodge the worst of the falling concrete, but still took a few punishing knocks on his arms & hands while covering his head on the way out.

It only took the mech two minutes to dig itself out, but Silver Falcon and a few other heroes arrived in a minute forty. live. Which meant Tone had enough time to crush the recorder into none incriminating ponder & sneak away, before he had to answer too many questions from the authorities.

“Oh, I better have a friend send Joe a new recorder.”