Zac Wilson | Zac Wilson (Dreamverse) | Aubrey Adkins (Dreamverse)
August: 5 Months Before Concurrent Posts
“And here is our training facility. It’s pretty state-of-the-art, if I say so myself!”

After the medical staff had mended Zac’s wounds and bruises, Zac’s alternate-self started giving him a tour of the premise. Before them stood a large, metallic door, similar to the one in the original Star Wars movie where the (unusually) tall Stormtrooper accidentally hit his head on top of the door. However, instead of heading through those doors, Raptor-Man led Zac up a set of stairs that was placed directly next to the massive doors. Once they reached the top, Zac discovered that at the end of the stairs was a control room, filled with different panels and computers.

“This here is where we control the conditions of our training facility. By using different combinations of advanced robotics and life-like holograms and imagery, we can almost reproduce any condition or terrain so that we can get the most out of our exercise sessions.”

“So,” Zac started to speak, “This is kind of like the Danger Room from the X-Men?”

Raptor-Man paused for a second, thinking about his answer. “Well, I guess so.”

The two men walked over to the glass windows on the far side of the room so that they might see the current training session. Zac was surprised at how realistic the inside of the training room appeared. The forest contained within the room looked as if it was somehow transplanted inside the building, rather than being a bunch of smoke and mirrors.

At the bottom of the room, Zac saw one of Raptor-Man’s fellow teammates. She too was wearing a costume made out of the same material as Raptor-Man’s, but hers was colored dark pink and blue. From her hips up, she looked pretty normal, as far as superheroes go, but everything else was a whole different ballgame. Her lower half of her body was replaced by the abdomen of a spider, along with four pairs of spider legs.

Several assailants surrounded her, lunging forward in an attempt to attack her. However, although one might think that she might be less mobile and agile than the average spider-themed hero, she gracefully leapt onto one of the ancient ruins imbedded within the forest, incapacitating her assailants with webbing shot form her wrists. And whenever a handful of them managed to dodge her web barrage, her front legs would push them back, as if they were arms.

She continued to leap between the several ruins within the training room, until she reached one that was booby-trapped. However, she was already aware of the danger before she landed, since something along the lines of a sixth sense alerted her to it. Above the ruins, a giant stone began to fall, large enough to squash a normal person. As soon as the heroine landed on the ruins, the stone was already almost on top of her.

“Is she going to be squashed like a...” Zac began to say, but Raptor-Man cut in.

“She has what is supposedly the proportional strength of a spider. And since female spiders are almost always significantly larger than their male counterparts, I would put my money on her surviving. Also, if you were going to say “squashed like a bug”, spiders are arachnids. She and her husband always complain about people messing that up.”

They glanced back towards the training room, discovering that she had indeed stabilized the giant stone and thrown it aside. She then continued defending herself from her opponents, who probably were shocked that she survived, if the opponents were living, that is.

“Let’s head downstairs. I know that Aubrey can mop up the rest of those villains. After she is done, we can give you a short lesson on Super-Heroics 101.”

“Aubrey?”

“Oh, that her name. We usually stick with our super-hero handles when outsiders are around, but since you’re me, I think it is fine.”

Zac and Raptor-Man loitered outside the training room’s entrance (and, hence, the exit), waiting for Aubrey to exit from her training session. Finally, the metal doors slid open and the sound of multiple feet clicking on the ground started to approach them. Aubrey walked out of the room, but when she saw both her own universe’s Raptor-Man and Zac, she quickly rubbed her eyes.

“Am I seeing double of you?”

“No, um, I mean Yes.” Raptor-Man began, “There are two of us, but it is not due to your senses. Also, would you mind if we gave this Zac a quick less in Super-Heroics?”

“I don’t know Zac,” Aubrey replied, “I just finished a rigorous training session, I need to hit the showers, and I have a dinner date with my husband in an hour. Anyways, wouldn’t we be breaking the whole “Space and Time Continuum” thing by teaching him anything?”

“I am pretty sure that time-traveling only creates alternate universes and never changes the events of one’s present timeline. While I am not one-hundred percent sure on this one, I do remember reading about it somewhere. Maybe it was that Super-Hero physics book that one professor from the University of Minnesota wrote?”

“Zac,” Aubrey said, placing her hand on Zac’s shoulder, “While I don’t have any ill-feeling towards you, I just don’t think...” However, before Aubrey could finish her sentence, both Aubrey and Zac blinked out of existence, leaving nothing behind.

“Um, what just happened?” Raptor-Man said, being left behind. “Better call her husband to cancel the reservation, if they had one. I just hope he doesn’t take this one out on me.”

---

Zac suddenly found himself in a dark, misty cavern. Several feet ahead, he saw two large arches, each one made out of different materials. Through one gate, the cavern continued, with fire clinging to the walls, and green smoke billowing through the cracks on the ground. Through the other gate, the floors were tiled with marble, with tables filled with all sorts of food, and there was a commotion of a party coming from the end of that path. And before these two gates, stood an old man, leaning on his a wood stick that was probably as old or even older than he was.

“Halt, stranger,” the old man said, “You must pick to cross the threshold of one of these gates. To my left is the Gate of Horn, while to my right is the Gate of Ivory. But be careful, while one gate, where true dreams depart, will set you free, the wrong decision will condemn you to live in the dream world forever, wondering the shadowy plains of Erebus for eternity. Pick carefully, stranger”.

Zac thought this out in his head. He vaguely remembered the Gates of Horn and Ivory from his Freshmen English Class in high school, but he could not recall the details of which one was truth and which one was lies. However, a different idea appeared in his head. He remembered in the third Indiana Jones movie, the false cup was the extravagant cup, while the real one was the small, wooden cup. Therefore, applying that logic, Zac crossed the threshold of the Gate of Horn. Turning around, he expected the old man to say something (in a similar way as the old knight did in the Indiana Jones movie). And he wasn’t disappointed.

“You have chosen wisely”.

Then everything went black, until he found himself in a chamber, similar to the one he found Kelly in, although it was lit better than the last one he was in. His shoulder ached; he assumed that when he somehow got teleported or whatever to this room, his momentum from the teleportation (or whatever brought him to this room) continued, smashing into the wall.

“What the [explicit] is that?” shouted someone in the room, “Fire at will! Fire at will!”

Zac quickly ducked behind a large column that was right next to him. However, he noticed that not a single bullet was flying towards him. Once the deafening gun fight had ended, Zac peaked out from behind. Several men, dressed in black, armed with military grade arms, were all covered with webbing and knocked out. Suddenly something dropped from the ceiling, suspended from a webline, causing him to let out a shout of terror.

“Hey there,” the female voice said, “Do you know where we are?”

“Um, your guess is as good as mine.”

“I’ll just call Zac and tell him to track the signal and pick us up.” But after she pulled out her cell phone from the sack that she had slug on her back, Zac felt his phone ring in his pocket. He pulled it out and showed it to Aubrey.

“Are we in your universe?”

“Well, it looks like it.”

“Well then, wait for me outside and give an anonymous tip to the police that there are a bunch of men in possession with illegal-grade firearms. I need to change so that I don’t stick out like a sore thumb.” Before Zac could turn to walk out, Aubrey tossed a small, elastic wristband. “Put this on. It’ll negate your powers so you aren’t walking around with a tail”.

Zac walked outside, recognizing the road that appeared in front of him. He and Kelly drove on this road while heading for his parents’ house. After he dialed called the police and gave the tip, he heard Aubrey walking out from the chamber.

“So, where to next?”

Heavy silence lingered in the room, broken only by the sound of four people breathing, and one pair of feet slowly pacing.
A middle-aged woman and a young man sat at the table in the centre of the room, their faces twisted in concentration. Next to the single window out of the room, looking out into a lightly snow-coated forest, stood Cedric. Finally, the pacing came from Will, walking back and forth along the eastern wall. His face was in a scowl, and he continually wringed his hands, drawing looks of concern from the man at the table.

The man stood up from his seat, palms down on the table, and started speaking. "So, um. Planning? That gonna happen, or are we just gonna spend our time looking at the forest- as pretty as it is- and watching Will pace into the core of the earth?"

"At this rate? Guess." replied the woman, before sighing. "We get it Will. You had to kill some meatpuppets, you've found an enemy who can in some cases negate your shielding, we were all blindsided by a space station nearly killing everyone and a super-powered..." She scrunched her hands up, before continuing, "Super-powered murderer killed a bank's worth of people and put the footage up for everyone to see. But with all of that, -"

"Also that 'alien' attacked the Midas press release and escaped Icon, that also happened." Added Cedric.

"Yes, also that. But, hang on I haven't heard about that."

"Oh. I just checked the news, those thunderclaps a few minutes ago, that's what that was. Find out later."

"Oooh. In any case. Will, even with all of that, you can't just give up. We can still try and combat these problems, you're honestly being kinda childish, just pacing around."

"Ahh, will all due respect Jennifer, I don't think I look like I'm about to throw my hands up and give up."

"With 'all due respect' Will, you look like you're gonna have a breakdown or bolt out the door."

"She's got a point, man. Sit back down, we need to do some prioritizing." Added Paul, the man at the table.

A few seconds later, all four occupants of the room were seated.

"So," began Cedric. "First off, we have the bulletproof hostile. For ease of conversation, I'll call him... Vincible." Cedric paused, as if expecting at least some laughter, but received none. Continuing, he said "As far as we know, he's only bulletproof, but he could have other powers. However, the way that he only used conventional weapons to fight rather than anything magical, indicates that he had nothing to fear from guns at all. So he's probably significantly more than bulletproof."

"Though, as he did publicise the attack, it is likely that he isn't showing his full hand, he might have other powers or maybe backup, he's not necessarily alone," interjected Paul.

Will nodded, and added "In this case, his power is unknown and he might need a lot of resources to contain even if he could be defeated, plus he may have support. I think we should try and leave him alone for now, till we know what we're facing, with the caveat that we will try and perform some reconnaissance on him and pass that along to the police. Compared to the demons and contacting Icon, I'd say that's the lowest priority, simply because we're so unable to act against him."

"Too many unknowns, I agree," said Jennifer, before looking towards Paul, who raised a hand, indicating that he agreed.

"Now, Icon. Contacting him as soon as possible is important, in my eyes. He's seemingly more powerful than Will and Aegis, and thus obviously far more powerful than any of us aside from him."

Paul interrupted, taking a joking tone and muttered 'cheater'.

Will laughed, before responding "Binding with a spirit is not cheating, especially when you can't learn spells."

"...Anyway. As I was saying, Icon even looks to be benevolent. No sense not trying to cooperate with him."

"I have something constructive to say this time." Spoke Paul. "I was watching some coverage of the Midas conference when the alien attacked it. Icon's astral signature was standing out when he was the only signature with such a massive and vertical velocity. He was far away and moving quickly, but because of this I was able to see which one was his. So I should be able to send him a message from us."

"Good. Ask that he send some sort of proof that he's Icon, or at least something that would be unreasonably hard to do without being Icon. Like footage of him flying somewhere." Suggested Cedric.

"Ehh. If he's anything like us, he's not gonna have the time to rush out to the wilderness and film himself doing loops in the air. We're probably just going to have to trust him, give him a number to call or a location to be at. If he doesn't reply or turns out to be a bad guy, tough luck for us. I don't think we've made too many enemies that we haven't neutralised or are already picking fights with anyway."

There was a brief silence, as the idea of simply trusting this stranger was mulled over by three minds.

"...Paul, that idea is, sadly, the best one. We'll want to ask him to meet me, I'll be the least likely to be killed if it turns out to be a trap or if he is hostile. We should put the place as somewhere public, he's got no reason to believe we aren't in the employ of someone who wants to capture him and screw around with his brain till he becomes their personal hitman. Actually, better idea, we offer him something to contact us with and let him choose the time and place, so long as he doesn't say 'midnight, a shady alleyway'."

"Alright, I'll do that."

When Will and Paul finished speaking, Jennifer wrapped a knuckle on the table, drawing the attention of the other three in the room.

"The demons are still our biggest problem. We sealed three in there originally, the weakest of which could control multiple normal humans, or manifest in a very formidable physical form. They got out and tried to lure Will in with the false 'seal is breaking' signature, and had either created meatpuppets that were enchanted against his shields or had enchanted that area to let them do so. This also indicates that they can cover signatures very easily, as we noticed absolutely nothing when they actually broke out of the painting we sealed them in. And all of the puppets Will saw had ritual runes on their heads, none of them were the original bodies they took over when they broke out- assuming none of them are walking around manifested as a physical form; we'd have heard the screaming. And these guys are probably power hungry, so I doubt they'll have less puppets 'recruited' than they can."

"Well, they definitely don't have their maximum number reached. Combined they could control more than a thousand bodies, so they must be at least attempting to lie low- that's probably part of the reason they had the bomb, to erase evidence, as well as to try and kill me. There was something in the news about 'a rash of disappearances', but I doubt they'll have more than fifty together, or else they'd draw too much attention."

"Probably true." Said Cedric, before he continued "Considering that they wouldn't have been able to break out of the painting when it was very close to one of us- that is to say before it was stolen- I think there is another group or individual who is responsible for this, having done that to release the demons. Maybe they had good intentions, but, well, no, I'm gonna say that they didn't."

"So, now we're looking for a connection between these disappearances, and for a cult or something? I don't like that I'm desensitised to things that are honestly insane, like fiction or a fantasy, just happening."

Will shrugged. "We can act well enough on our own with this- Paul, you'll send your message, and we'll all look for any signs of the demons plodding around, and perform some research into the bulletproof guy. Obviously via astrally looking around, looking for the after-images of spells, violence or rituals, as well as for magical signatures."

"So we're done then?" asked Paul.

"Yeah, if nobody has anything else?"

Will glanced around, receiving nods of affirmation that there was, in fact, nothing else. With that, and a round of goodbyes, the room's occupants rose to their feet and walked over to the western wall of the room, and in turn traced a symbol on the wall, each summoning up the gate to their respective houses, placed by Will.

Later that night, a message would be sent out to the person Paul was pretty sure was Icon. The message would lie dormant till the man next started sleeping, and would appear during REM sleep. The message would show the outline of a humanoid form, which would read the words-

'Are you the person they're calling Icon? This is a dream, yes, but we're using it to contact you. Me and my friends are in the same business as you, so to speak, and we are interested in cooperation (read: you are powerful and seemingly benevolent, we want your help, and we might be able to help you). If you look at the paper in my hand, you'll see a phone number to message. If you're interested in some kind of collaboration, then just send through a location and a time. Don't use a location that you wouldn't meet people who potentially are enemies (for all you know) or we won't send anyone (as we also know nearly nothing), and anything after 11pm and before 6pm is kinda horribly inconvenient.

Oh, and thanks for stopping the Gold Dawn. You can replay the contents of this message at will, to do so, attempt to access this memory.'

No one had ever been willing to let one of the last of the old guard of heroes, the old heroes who had fought against the forces of tyranny and fascism during the Second World War, the ones who had once defeated the most dangerous villain the world had known up until that time, be told that he was no longer competent and no longer fit to perform actual hero work. No one would tell the old, nearly blind but virtually invulnerable hulk that was Colonel Ironsides that he was no longer needed, no there was a job found for him, a great ceremony had been held in his honor and he had been given a position that sounded suitably glorious on the surface. He was hired as the head of security for the world renown Museum of Supers, a place where both great villains and heroes were remembered and their memorabilia was sold. He would protect the museum, be a grand attraction on his own for those who visited, and most importantly there would be no sense that one of the greatest heroes of a bygone age had been put out to pasture.

But in their attempts to avoid creating a public incident the powers that be had forgotten about one critical thing, that the relics of old heroes and villains often had power and that all that stood between one seeking to claim these items and the prize were a few dozen security guards and one aging hero who could barely function. The mere name of the man who had been a member of the team that had cast down the Good Doctor so long ago was a deterrent enough for most and the few who tried to interfere with the museum were mostly lowlifes who were dealt with by the other security personnel without trouble. But it was not enough to deter all who would wish to claim, or in a certain case reclaim an item that had been entrusted to the museum and one individual in particular was happy that the man guarding the museum was one of the old guard. It would be a chance for revenge after all.

On this particular night there were only three guards other than the old Colonel, the night shift being much smaller than the day shift, and it looked to be a quiet night, at least so far. Three men who sat in a room and played cards while occasionally glancing up at the array of screens that showed the input from all of the cameras throughout the museum. There was a single brief hiss of static from the entirety of the array as all the screens briefly distorted before returning to normal, the hissing sound did draw the attention of the one of the guards but after the screens returned to normal he ignored the incident, chocking it up to a glitch in the system and returning to the card game. That was the only sign that any of the merely human guards would have been given that the building was now compromised and they had entirely ignored it.

While the camera feeds still showed the halls of the museum to be empty they were now showing data that was being looped repeatedly rather than live feeds. Several tall, well dressed men in outfits that looked very nearly military and that bore 6 red diagonal lines emblazoned as a sigil upon their uniforms moved down the previously vacant hallways, one stopping briefly outside the security room and sliding a small disk roughly an inch thick under the door. A few seconds later there was a soft hiss followed rapidly by several thumping sounds as the guards inside were knocked unconscious by the compound contained within the disk. The man who had slipped the disk under the door remained in front of the door to ward against any possibility of the guards awakening and interfering in what was to happen next as the other men took up positions around the entrances to the museum.

It was only then that the one who was far more than a mere soldier entered, walking straight in, in full view of the inactive cameras. A man who wore a uniform much like the others, but a uniform that was far more ornate and symbolic of a higher rank, a furred mantle hung from his shoulders and the hem of it brushed against the ground behind his feet as he walked forward, black boots clicked against the tiled floor and the same sigil that was emblazoned upon the uniforms of the others was emblazoned upon his own. His face was hidden in deep shadows beneath a hood that had been pulled down across most of his face and should it have been visible it was a face that would easily be forgotten within minutes, a face that never would stand out in a crowd. His breathing was an audible rasping hiss and it was clear that it took an effort for the man to take in enough air with each breath. But still he walked with a perfect step and a manner that spoke volumes of his position.

The man who had entered last walked past several of his men, most of whom were young, all of whom bore what would once have been described as Aryan features, signs of an old regime's definition of perfection. As he passed they straightened to attention and snapped off a salute that almost any student of history would recognize, though there were subtle differences that distinguished it from the gesture that the Nazi's had once used, the hand was not stretched out but rather closed in a fist. The man paid them little attention though in truth his eyes did observe every detail of each of his men's salutes and had there been a flaw he would have later commented on it.

The first that the aging Colonel who liked to stand in the central room of the museum, the room that housed such exhibits as the Mask of the Good Doctor, and reminisce on his old glory days would know of the force that had taken control of it was when the sound of boots clicking on the floor came from behind him. While Ironsides was old, and nearly blind, he still had his hearing and the reflexes of one who had been present in hundreds of conflicts over his long career. The man could also distinguish between the sounds of the footsteps that he heard and those of the normal guards. Raising a massive cannon like firearm with one hand, the armored juggernaut spun round as quickly as his aging body would allow only to find that the man who's footsteps he had heard was simply standing in the center of the room. "Do not move." The Colonel's voice sounded loudly through speakers in his armor as the gun became fixed on the man.

"Colonel," The voice that spoke from beneath the hood was breathless and wheezing, "The years have not been kind. I had seen reports but I had thought they would be fabrications." The voice tickled at the old soldier's mind, he was certain he had heard it before, and somehow he felt that it was an utter imperative to place it. "But I suppose that very few age as well as I." The man's hand opened and a vial fell from it, striking the floor and shattering in an explosion of noxious gas and smoke. The Colonel's gun spat fire as a massive slug shot forth at the spot where the man had been standing, but there was no resulting cry of pain and as the stinking cloud spread throughout the room the old warrior found his vision rapidly fading even more than it already had. The smoke had an acrid taste as he breathed it in, and a pain in his chest slowly began to grow. "How does it feel?" The wheezing voice mocked, "Being old and infirm." There was a clicking sound and the old man spun towards it, firing another of the great slugs in its direction. But again there was no sign that he had hit anything.

Another vial flew through the air to strike against his helmet and shatter, this time releasing some form of acid that rapidly ate it's way into the metal that warded the old man's head. Again he spun and again the gun fired in the direction that he thought the vial had come from. Then acid made it through the metal and he felt the burn briefly before his skin repelled the chemical compound. "Still as resilient as ever?" The mocking voice sounded again, "I should hope so, I did not spend so long relishing the plans for this moment for you to fall to the first compound."

"Show yourself!" Colonel Ironsides bellowed, firing in the direction of the voice and beginning to cough as whatever the compound in the air was irritated his chest more and more. Despite his efforts the voice still sounded, and now it seemed to be echoing from every direction at once.

"This was my mistake years ago. Your body is nigh invulnerable." The voice of the man with the hood spoke softly as if the speaker was lecturing. "I tried corrosives, and they were ineffective, I tried genetic harvesters but they failed, your cells truly are remarkably impregnable. But I did find that if I saturated them with enough fuel even you could burn. I'm not even in the room, your own body provides the heat." And as the voice finished the room erupted in flames as the thick cloying gas that had filled much of it ignited and a wave of fire spread out from the Colonel.

It took only moments for the fire to fade as the fuel was consumed and the compound faded. In the wake of the fire the man in uniform walked back into the room from the alcove in which he had sheltered from the blaze. From beneath the hood his eyes watched the fallen titan to see if the man would stir again. It was merely an academic interest, though for this case there was some slight hope that the Colonel would stir again so that more pain could be inflicted upon one who had so wronged him in the past. And the Colonel did stir, despite fire that had ravaged him inside and out the man moved within his scorched metal suit. The metal clad head rose and looked up at the man in uniform. Behind what remained of the helm slate grey eyes widened as he finally realized who he faced and fire scorched lungs managed a last gasp of speech. "It's impossible. You died. It cannot--" then his voice cut out and the great warrior ceased his motion as death claimed him.

The hooded man gave his fallen enemy a series of kicks to the head, the black boots striking the metal with dull thuds as he did so repeatedly. Then apparently recovering his composure he turned away from the smoking corpse and strode with purpose over to the case that held the item he sought. It was a suitably grand exhibit though the man cared little about what his enemies thought of him. "This truly is a horrible likeness" the man wheezed softly as he examined the reconstructed uniform that vaguely resembled his own, above which a black mask, with 6 diagonal viser slits before the eyes sat. "But this," he said as his hand flipped a pistol out of the holster at his side, "Is truly mine." He pointed the gun at the box and fired, a greenish plasma emerging and melting a hole in the bulletproof glass that had warded the artifacts within.

He re-holstered the pistol and black gloved hands reached into the hole he had made and carefully, with a reverence that was clear drew forth the mask that lay within. An alarm began to shriek as he drew it close to his face and brushed back the hood before sliding the mask into place over his face. A raspy breath sounded from behind the respirator as for the first time in decades he drew a decent breath. The red slits began to glow as he activated the numerous subsystems within the mask. "I am myself again." The voice hissed out, amplified and made more audible by the mask the man now wore, and as the alarm shrilly blared forth the Good Doctor simply walked from the room and as his men joined him, from the museum, to vanish back into the world that had harbored him for so many years after his supposed demise.

Eric Dean/Alsia
Upon hearing that the battered young woman did want food and something to drink, Eric immediately went into the kitchen, where he began looking through the refrigerator He located the pizza first, BBQ Chicken and bacon, his favorite pie from Petrillo’s in town, and in his opinion, the best pizza in the city. He pulled the pizza from the fridge and grabbed a plate. As he put the pizza into the microwave he called to the girl.

“You sure you just want water? I’ve got soda, and juice. I think I’ve got some V-8 in here somewhere.”

As the man walked out of the room Alsia looked around the room quickly, scanning for anything that would indicate this place was a risk or a trap. Then satisfied that there were no apparent signs of lurking hostility she reached down and pressed a specific point on the side of her pack, locking it down unless she gave the activation command. With that done she allowed herself to relax slightly, sinking back into the couch cushions, it was comfortable.

“Water is fine.” She called back; she vaguely remembered the early tests with human food. There were many things that had reacted poorly with her when she had been fed them and Alsia knew water at least was safe.

The microwave beeped, Eric carefully removed the plate with two slices of pizza and set it down on the counter. He went back into the fridge and took out a bottle of water, then returned to the couch with the food and drink.

He looked down at the young woman, and he felt a surge of anger wash over him. Someone had done a number on this poor woman and left her in an alley.

Who could do that to someone? Eric thought to himself as he handed her the plate and placed the bottle of water on the coffee table in front of her.

“It’s not much, but there’s more if you want it.” He said as she looked at the pizza. “Listen, I know you might not want to talk about it, but do you know who it was that did this to you?” He asked, indicating the bruises on her face.

As soon as the heating device beeped and the food was removed Alsia could smell it, and the smell just served to make her hungrier. There was definitely meat in the smell though there were some less than appetizing scents as well, still she couldn’t be picky and when the human returned to the room she let her mouth shape a real human smile. “Thank you.” She spoke again as he put down the food and the bottle of water.

The Visisth had anticipated the questions and staved them off for a moment by opening the bottle of water, and taking a long drink from it, nearly half gone in that one long sip. What did humans of this era expect women to act like; Alsia was not quite certain and wished she had done a proper reconnaissance and cultural primer. “It, it happened so fast.” She stammered out in her best effort to impersonate someone who had had been assaulted.

“There was this man in a mask and he hit me and took my money and bags.” She pointed to the one at her feet. “Some luck he couldn’t get the straps off my back and he ran off after a minute. And it was the empty bag.”

Alsia lifted up the first piece of pizza and examined, it didn’t smell quite right but she was starving and in the end she took a bite. It was edible she decided, even if there wasn’t enough meat and far too much of this hard tasteless material. Why did humans of this time eat a plate under the food?

She inhaled the rest of the first piece of pizza, barely managing to keep her second set of teeth from descending to hasten the process of chewing and swallowing. That hadn’t been right she realized belatedly and looked up at the man with the same half smile her face always naturally wore. “Sorry for the manners. I’m just hungry.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve got more if you’re still hungry when you finish those.” Eric said, lightheartedly. Though, his mind soon traveled back to her assailant.

“Do you want to call the police and file a report?” He asked, though by her reaction to his earlier suggestion that he get her to a hospital, he already knew the answer.

With the confirmation that how she was eating was fine Alsia simply inhaled the second piece of pizza as well and then drained the rest of the water bottle in another long drink.

"I'd rather not." She said after a minute. "I don't think it'd help much." She sighed as if there was some deep past experience that made her biased against such forces of law and order on this planet. Then she held out the plate, "Could I have more please?" Already she was starting to feel her strength coming back, she wouldn't want to make any shifts for at least a few more hours but she was on her way.

“Of course.” Eric said, slightly surprised at how fast she devoured the pizza. He took the plate and returned to the kitchen, where he loaded another couple of slices onto the plate, and placed it into the microwave. Then, he returned to the young woman with another bottle of water.

“I’m Eric by the way, and you are?”

"Nice to meet you Eric, I'm Alsia and thank you for helping me." She spoke in response to his question and then smiled again, as she took the second bottle of water and consciously made an effort to just sip at it instead of gulping it down; she did remember that humans ate far less than she did.

“It’s good to meet you Alsia, though, I wish it were under better circumstances.” He said as the microwave went off again, indicating that the pizza was done.

After retrieving the food, Eric made his way back to Alsia and handed her the plate.

“Listen, do you have a place to stay? I mean, you could stay here for as long as you need.” He said, unsure how she would take his offer.

After she took the plate Eric asked if she had a place to stay and Alsia hesitated. She hadn't considered this possibility but there was little likelyhood of finding a better place to hole up and having a place to base herself out of in her attempts to plan a new attack on Macros would be useful.

"I don't" she said finally. "I was looking for one before I-" she broke off as if it was painful to talk about. "Thank you so much." Alsia finished with a carefully engineered sincerity.

Zac Wilson | Kelly Brown | Aubrey Adkins (Dreamverse)
August: 5 Months Before Concurrent Posts
Zac was not sure what he expected Aubrey to look like outside of her costume and in civilian clothes, but he was sure of one thing: he didn’t expect what he saw. It was almost like that moment when you assumed that Samus Aran from Metroid is a guy, but were proven wrong when it was revealed that he’s actually a she, and she’s not bad looking either. Aubrey seemed as if she had been pulled directly out of a comic book, but her few anatomical impossibilities did not trouble Zac’s mind as much as another problem, namely, how was he going to save face with Kelly. He really cared about her, but he did not know how to overcome his fears so that they might get their relationship back to where it was before all this chaos happened.

“Um, Aubrey, how did ‘alternate’ me get over our fear of wasps, since Kelly kind of looks like one?” Zac asked as the two of them started heading toward his parent’s house.

Aubrey was taken by surprise by the question, quickly reacting on her feet. “Well, I actually think he never did get over those pesky wasps.” Zac sighed, not getting the response he hoped for, some advice on how to get past his fears. Aubrey noticed his body language and quickly tried to qualify her statement. “Well, the Zac I knew did not really need to get over that fear because on the first mission with him and Kelly, Kelly fell into a vat of the serum that gave you your powers with one of the villainesses we were trying to stop. When she appeared on the surface, we discovered that they swapped powers, so Kelly didn’t look like the wasp-human hybrid anymore.”

Even Aubrey’s addition to her statement did not give Zac what wanted, just like her original statement, but at least he could say he tried to find out whether or not his alternate self was more successful than himself. “So, did you get your powers from the serum?”

“Actually, I woke up one day realizing I had powers. They started to manifest themselves during high school.”

“It must have been really awkward being a teenage girl with the lower body of a spider. Talk about something that would cause drama.”

“These actually weren’t my original abilities. Instead, I could...” Aubrey started, but she cut herself short. She knew that her old powers were quite technical in nature and therefore might go over Zac’s head. “Do you know who the Invisible Woman from the Fantastic Four and who Claire Bennett from the Heroes Television Series is?” Zac nodded, quickly interjecting that he has seen the Fantastic Four movies. “Well, if you put both their powers together, you would have gotten me! The way I got my current was when some villains attempted to do a weird body swap with the superhero team of which I was a member, no doubt to try to debauch our names. Fortunately, my healing factor didn’t cooperate with their plans, only causing a power swap. The only bad thing is that my healing factor is giving me troubles retrieving my old powers, so I am stuck like this until my friends can figure out a solution”.

“Does EVERYONE in your universe continually switch powers, because so far it looks that way?”

After hearing this response, Aubrey abruptly halted, considering what Zac had just said. “You know what, I think that it’s just Kelly and me. Besides the cases I have already mentioned, I think both of us had gone by two other aliases with different powers”.

Zac did not know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Furthermore, he did not want to hear her explanation because it was not helping him with his one problem: reconciling with Kelly. So he just dropped the subject and they just silently walked the rest of the way back to his house. Once they reached the driveway, Zac turned to Aubrey to make sure that they both knew the game plan on how they would get into the house.

“Now just follow my lead. We need to keep our stories straight if my folks are home”.

Zac rang the doorbell. Once his mother slammed up the door, steam pouring out of her ears, he knew he as in trouble.

“Zachary Bernard Wilson. Where the [explicit] have you been.”

Zac tried to speak, but the threatening presence of his mother completely paralyzed his tongue. Aubrey, however, was quick on her feet and came to Zac’s rescue.

“Don’t be so angry, Mrs. Wilson. Zac was only acting like a responsible boyfriend. While they were out in the woods yesterday, Kelly was sprayed with some hydroxyl acid. Zac remembered that Albany State College has the facilities to treat exposure to this acidic compound, so he went and found me. I just came up just to see how Kelly looked and determine whether she needed to come down to Albany for treatment.”

“Is this true, Zachary?”

Zac just nodded his head.

“How bad are the burns from this hydroxyl acid?”

“Oh, hydroxyl acid can cause 3rd degree burns in the right situations.”

“No wonder Kelly has had her room locked. The closest she allowed us to get to her was when we would place a new glass of water in front of her door. She must be so terrified!”

“Well, that’s why we came.”

Mrs. Wilson moved out of the doorway, allowing both Aubrey and Zac to enter into the house. As Zac started toward Kelly’s room, he was surprised to see his dad reclining in his favorite chair with an ice pack resting on his wound. Zac thought he had died, but obviously he had not.

“Don’t mind your mother. She is just concerned, that’s all. When your husband gets badly injured and your son goes missing, what do you expect?” Zac just nodded, trying to get to Kelly’s room as quickly as possible. “Also son, when you get back to college, you can brag that your father killed off the last of the dinosaurs! It wasn’t some crazy meteorite!” All Zac could do at that statement is laugh. He knew that his could always take something as serious as what happened to Zac’s dad and turn it into a joke.

Once Zac got past his parents, he finally reached Kelly’s door. Just as Mrs. Wilson said it would be, the door was locked.

“Come on, Kelly. Open up.”

“Go away.”

“Please let me help you, Kelly. I can’t help you if the door is locked”. After Zac pleaded with his girlfriend, Zac and Aubrey heard the door unlock. They both walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind them. On the guestroom bed, Kelly was lying down on the bed, covering her body with the sheets. Once they got close to Kelly, they noticed that her body was drenched with sweat. Red patches had also started to appear on her skin, showing the effects of the imperfect serum that ran through her veins. Beside the bed, there was a small trashcan; the bag within it was already stained with blood.

“Is this a joke Zac?” Kelly cried from under the sheets, “Not only did you leave me behind, but know you have another girl! When I woke up yesterday, I couldn’t find you anywhere. And while looking for you, your parents got home from the hospital. Your mom and dad would have seen the abomination I am if I had not got back into this room and barricaded myself in.” However, when Kelly got a better look at Zac, she was shocked to see that his tail had miraculously disappeared, as it seemed to her. Her anger filled her tongue with venomous words. “And it seems like you fixed your problem. Don’t worry. I understand. You were just acting like a good boyfriend, fixing your own problems while you left your girlfriend at home, coughing her lungs out.”

“This isn’t want it looks like” Zac claimed, trying to convince his girlfriend.

“Then what is it?”

Aubrey and Zac glanced at once another, unsure how to proceed on telling Kelly what had happened since Zac blacked out that morning. “Well, I have been out of college for more than two years,” Aubrey said, and then she showed Kelly her left hand, revealing a ring. “I also would never cheat on my husband”.

“Anyways, she sort of understands you plight.”

“How?” Kelly asked, skeptical of what her boyfriend was saying.

“Well, she usually has four pairs of spider legs and a giant spider abdomen where her lower body is.” Zac replied. “I actually haven’t seen her upper body while in her “spider” form because she was covered head to toe. You wouldn’t happen to have claws and fangs, eight eyes, and bristly hair?” Aubrey thought a moment about her response; her reply could either strength or harm Zac’s argument. Knowing that she had to tell the truth, she shook her head, signaling a “no” as her answer.

Kelly did not know whether to believe Zac or not; she wanted to trust him, but due to what had happened over the last day, a seed of doubt still filled her heart. “Whatever.”

“Kelly, we want to help you. But we can’t help you if you don’t allow us.” Zac pleaded, hoping his girlfriend would budge.

“You say that, but do you really mean it? Why don’t you come over here and say it to me while you wrap your arms around me? See! You already cringe at the thought of holding me! Why should I believe you?” Zac knew she was right; he knew that he had to do something to gain her trust. Therefore, he took a seat beside Kelly on the bed and wrapped his arms around her waist, right above her second pair of arms. Zac, with his eyes clamped shut, pressed his lips against hers. And when he opened his eyes back up, his body shaking partly out of relief that he had made a stride towards getting over his fears, partly out of shock that he actually did it, saw that Kelly’s face was glowing red.

“Zac, could you hold back my hair?” Zac was quite confused at such a weird request after kissing one’s boyfriend. However, he soon found out about what she was talking. She reached down and seized the trashcan beside her bed. While Zac thought she was about to puke, but it was actually more like coughing up blood than puking it out. After her coughing fit had stopped, she rinsed her mouth with a glass of water she had on her nightstand, following this by wiping her lips of with a paper towel.

“Why is this happening to me?” She cried, clinging to her boyfriend with both sets of arms, tears starting to roll down her cheeks.

“It’s the serum that gave you your powers.” Aubrey said, “Since it is unstable, your body is attempting to reject it. However, if we can replace it with a stable version, then your condition should stop degrading.”

“Then why don’t we do a blood transfusion?” Zac responded, “I can donate my blood because it already has the stable serum in it!”

“That would work in theory, but I do not think we have enough time to collect enough blood form you to dilute the old serum.” Aubrey paused for a second, thinking through an idea that just hit her. “However, if she receives a blood transfusion from me, my healing factor, if exposed to enough of the stable serum, should attempt to correct the bad serum. Furthermore, my healing factor in my blood should also heal all the damage that the old formula has done to Kelly.”

“But I thought that your powers came to you naturally, so you wouldn’t have the serum in your system.”

“Actually, the person who originally had these spider powers had the perfected serum in her bloodstream. When the power swap happened, the serum transferred over into me, along with her powers. Also, I think we will need somewhere more private than your parent’s house, Zac. It would be extremely awkward if they walk in on Wasp-Girl receiving a blood transfusion from Spider-Woman.”

“We can go to our apartment in Albany. It’ll take time to get down there, but it will give us all the privacy we need.”

“But how are we going to get out of here without Zac’s parents knowing my physical deformities?” Kelly pointed out.

“Just follow my lead.” Aubrey said with a grin, using Zac’s own words against him. Zac wrapped Kelly in the bed sheets and swung her over his shoulder. Aubrey grabbed the trashcan, just in case Kelly would need it for the road trip down to Albany.

“How is she?” Zac’s mother inquired.

“Kelly needs to come to Albany so that she might be treated as quickly as possible for her burns from the exposure to hydroxyl acid.”

“I am so sorry for you, Kelly,” Mrs. Wilson said, “I wish you could have had a better summer break while visiting us.”

“Maybe next summer, Mrs. Wilson.” Kelly replied, waving under the sheets to Zac’s mother. She had to concentrate extra hard so that she would not accidentally wave one of her other hands, revealing what she truly looked like beneath the sheets. After they discarded the bloody trash bag and replaced it with a fresh one, Kelly, Zac, and Aubrey piled into Zac car, ready to head south to Albany.

“Could I ask you guys one thing? Did you really just tell Zac’s parents that I got burned from being exposed to water?”

Yamamoto woke up from a dreamless sleep, but awoke to find himself smiling slightly. Though his father could be cold or selfish, he had paid him well for his work, and his recently discovered half-sister Asuka truly made the youth feel welcome. Yet after a brief moment of tired reminiscing, he shot up in bed, realizing today was the day he killed a God. He felt ready.

Leaping out of bed fully clothed, having fallen asleep in them last night, he immediately made his way to his father’s office, opening the door, he found the familiar old man on his phone at his desk, speaking in hushed whispers. When Yamamoto approached the desk and sat down before it, he found his father abruptly hang up angrily.

“Well, Atticus got us the barebones, basic Interpol Reports and standard background checks. Said he’d need more time to get more detailed information. Useless Westerner.

Still, here’s what we’ve got. You’ll have to make do. Tremor doesn’t stay still for long, so we need to catch him while we know his location. If anyone can take down this sonovabitch, it’s you, Yamamoto.” He smiled slightly with a nod, proud of his son.

Yet his son did not stare back. He stood over by the bookcase, holding his helmet. Placing it firmly on his head, he looked around comfortably, the visor adjusted specifically for his comfort and need.

“Not Yamamoto…
Beesting.”
*****************************************************************************************

Beesting lay on a small tarp on the roof of a three story building, watching just as intently down the scope of his Barrett M82 sniper rifle as he had originally, three hours ago. His suit was fully calibrated and airtight, the technology amazing the youth who had spent near his entire life in isolation. It had its own heating system, keeping him warm. The generator on his lower back was silent and discreet, requiring one with eagles eyes to spot its functionality.

The obsidian sword of his father’s sat tightly in it’s sheath across his back. He had trained for hours with the blade, and was becoming increasingly proficient with it. He figured given a few more months, it would be as close to him as his own body.

It was sunset now, and cars filled with people coming home from a hard day’s work drove obliviously drove by beneath Beestings sniping spot. The youth, growing impatient, looked away from the scope, instead pulling out a vanilla envelope out of a small carrying space built into the suit. Opening it, he skimmed through the information Atticus had provided.

‘Age: 34
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 188lbs
Info: Left the employment of Oda Takahisa presumably on grounds of disapproval of the actions of the Yakuza, though rumors are he was outed on grounds of being brash and dangerous to the syndicate well being. His absence allowed the role of enforcement open to more traditional classes in the crime world such as Assassins. There are records of him going into exile in rural parts of Thailand and China, along with a spree of international incident in the last year. Yakuza witnesses state he his striking ability is unmatched and many members of the crime family hold him entirely responsible for the 6.7 quake that hit Osaka seven years ago. Interpol dossiers list him as a Muay Boran, Muay Thai, and Kyokushin expert,and confirmed metahuman. He is known to use direct strikes to transmit energy, and the use of these strikes against his environment in ranged attacks. It is unknown as to why he is back in Japan.’

“Hmph. Kyokushin huh..? It’d be interesting to test my skills against him. I haven’t had a decent spar in ages… Ah, well. Let’s see how this goes, first.”

Turning back to his sniper rifle, mounted on the roof, he looked into the scope once more. He waited only a hair’s breath before smiling within the confines of his technologically superior helmet. Inside the scope, he found a God he had been ordered to kill, and there was only one thing left to do.

Breathing slowly and cooly, he took aim at the meditating man in the middle of the park across the street from Beestings perch. With a slight squeeze, a loud boom was heard, and a bullet whizzed toward the man known as Tremor from Beesting’s hiding space.

Zac Wilson | Kelly Brown | Aubrey Adkins (Dreamverse)
August: 5 Months Before Concurrent Posts
Although it made the two hour drive down to Albany seem to fly by, the conversation between Zac and Aubrey irked Kelly. For the whole trip down, Zac showed more interest in Aubrey through their conversation than he had showed toward Kelly ever since he had found Kelly in that abandoned chamber. Meanwhile, Kelly was regulated in the back seat because Kelly would feel better if she rested. She eavesdropped on their conversation, pretending that she had fallen asleep, awaiting for anything that would allow her to interject into this conversation. She wanted to prove that she was the center of Zac’s life, not Aubrey; she desired to put Aubrey back in her place.

“So what do you do for a living, besides punching psychotic metahumans in the face? While I would guess that you were a model, I wouldn’t...” Zac began; however, a voice from the back seat cut him off. Both Zac and Aubrey jumped in their seats since they both thought that she was sound asleep.

“A model.” Kelly said, rolling her eyes. “If she’s a model, she probably takes photo-shoots for Playboy, or something along those lines. I would bet money that most of her body has been under the knife at one point or another.”

“Um, I am definitely an Elementary School teacher.” Aubrey replied to Kelly, shocked that she would have said that she would ever partake in such a profession.

“I see. You’re corrupting the youth at an early age.” Kelly sarcastically replied.

“I’m sorry that you think that you are better than me because you are a nurse. You might make more money than I will down the road, but at least I am happy with the type of person who I am.”

“Who told you I was a nurse?”

Aubrey did not know how to answer this question without raising more questions than answers. The reason why she knew that Kelly was training to become a nurse was the Kelly she knew in her universe was also a nurse. She traded a glance with Zac, unsure how to answer the question.

“Zac, did you tell her?” Kelly yelled.

But before Zac could answer his girlfriend, Aubrey tried to answer Kelly. “He didn’t spill the beans, Kelly.” She paused for a moment, trying to collect her composure. “I know what profession that you are aiming for because I am from an alternate universe. The Kelly I knew was also a nurse.” Aubrey personally did not believe that this response would satisfy Kelly, but it was worth a try.

“Alternate universe? Do you seriously want me to believe something out of a science fiction novel or a comic book? Are you stalking us? You just popped out of nowhere and want us to believe this crap?”

Trying to pay attention to the traffic around him on the road, Zac peered back into the back seat through the rear-view mirror. “Kelly, why are you trying to be so aggressive toward Aubrey? She’s telling the truth.”

“How do you know she’s telling the truth? Anyways, you still haven’t explained where you were and how did you cure yourself?”

Zac felt trapped by his girlfriend; his own answer would have been similar to Aubrey’s response. Therefore, there was no way for him to convince his girlfriend that she was telling the truth. He only had one ace in the hole for this situation. He slipped off his wristband and passed it back into the backseat.

“Put this on.”

“What is it?”

“Could you just stop questioning our every decision?” Kelly heard the agitation in Zac voice, realizing that her attempts to push Aubrey aside were backfiring. She was annoying her boyfriend more than she was alienating Aubrey. She just slid on the wristband onto her arm and watched as, or at least what she would call them, her physical abnormalities disappeared. While she was amazed how the wristband returned her old appearance, she still could not come to terms with the alternate universe explanation. “This still doesn’t explain anything, beside how you returned to normal”.

“Kelly, just shut up. You have been trying to pick a fight with Aubrey for this whole conversation. Just keep your thoughts to yourself.”

After she heard this, Kelly knew that Aubrey had not stolen her boyfriend, but she herself had just pushed him away. She pressed her face against the pillow that they brought along so that she could lay down, moistening it with her sobs. She knew that her plan had blown up in her face. For the next several minutes, the vehicle was filled with silence. Finally, Aubrey broke the silence, asking if there was a rest stop nearby. Fortunately, there was one coming up on the highway. Kelly was relieved, for she had been locked up in her room for nearly 24 hours, or at least it seemed like that to her. However, since she had annoyed her boyfriend just a few minutes ago, she was afraid to speak.

As soon as the car pulled up to the rest stop, Aubrey stepped out of the car, starting to head toward the rest area. Immediately after Aubrey exited the car, Kelly leaped out, racing to catch up with Aubrey.

“Aubrey, could you please stay away from my boyfriend.”

“Kelly, I am not trying to...” Kelly began, but she cut herself off mid-sentence when she saw Kelly’s expression. She expected her to have a threatening and defensive expression on her face; however, this could not be farther from the truth. Instead, Kelly’s face was stricken with anxiety, her eyes appearing just like those of a child whose ice cream had just fell to the ground.

“I don’t want to lose him; he means so much to me. I don’t know how I would handle my problem without him, even though he is terrified by me. He’s really the only one who has experienced what I have.”

“Don’t worry, Kelly. I’m no husband thief” Aubrey replied. “Heck, even I might be able to help you out, beyond the blood transfusion thing”.

“While we are talking about the transfusion, could you mention to Zac that we don’t have a plan on extracting your blood and getting it into my body?”

---

The car pulled up to the Nursing School at Albany State College where the Nursing department was hosting a blood drive. After Aubrey and Kelly signed Aubrey up for a blood donation, they waited for the nurses to call Aubrey’s name.

“Good thing my driver’s license hasn’t expired,” Aubrey told Kelly, whispering what she was about to say to her, “Especially since I am from a different universe where it is a totally different year!” Kelly just rolled her eyes at this comment.

Through the front door walked a frat boy and, as soon as he saw Aubrey, he decided to attempt to flirt with her. “Hey, Sexy. Doing anything tonight?” However, Aubrey, not even looking at him, shoved her left hand in his face, revealing the marriage ring that rested on her hand. “You better keep walking, son. For all you know, there could be a baby on board”. This just vexed the frat boy, not expecting him to be shut down that quickly. Therefore, he just slid over to the next unoccupied seat in the waiting room.

Next came in a nerdy college freshman, carrying a stack of comics. He took the seat next to Aubrey. His month gapped open, as if he had never seen a woman before (or rather, as if he had never seen a woman who looked like someone from his comic books). “You wouldn’t happen to be an actress, would you?” The second youth asked. However, the preppy frat boy beside interjected before Aubrey could make a response, “I wouldn’t talk with that cougar. If you even look at her funny, her husband will hunt you down.”

“Don’t listen to him. He is probably angry because the only way he can sleep with anyone is if she was wasted at one of his frat parties. My husband, on the other hand, doesn’t need a single ounce of alcohol in my system. Anyways, no, I am not an actress?”

“If you were, I think you could have been a wonderful choice for Mary Jane Watson in the next Amazing Spider-Man movie, since they are still looking for another actress. All you need to do is dye your hair red. You would have filled out MJ’s, um,” He paused for a second, knowing the first word that came to mind would not have been appropriate for this situation, “figure better than either Dunst or Woodley could ever dream of.”

“Why thank you, I think.” Aubrey replied. Immediately afterwards, one of the nurses entered the waiting room and called her name. Both Kelly and she jumped up from their chairs and followed the nurse back to where they would draw Aubrey’s blood. Kelly slipped away from Aubrey and the nurse, using her I.D. card to open the supply room.

The World is sick and slowly dying. Sometimes I used to wonder if I was the only one who could see how the strands of corruption twine through the fabric of the World, the dark and decaying patches in the structures that support it. Now I know that I am alone and that only I can see and touch the pieces.

Images flicker across the television screen as I stare at it with interest. The streak of silver and blue shoots into the sky to catch a falling space station in his hands and I find myself wondering if he too with his power can see how sick the world really is. Then I see him save a parasite, a node of the infection that saps life from the world and my hope for a kindred soul wilts inside of me.

I flick my wrist and the television goes blank. I stretch out and then stand up from the uncomfortable hotel chair with a faint popping sound as my back cracks. I know it is time for me to act but I still wonder if there is another way. I want to heal, not to kill and death will come to many because of me even if the World can still be purged of the cancer that eats at it. For a moment my conviction wavers even as my hands reach out to turn the handle and open the door and I leave the motel room.

But I remember pain and betrayal, the steak knife raised in my mother’s hand as love turned to hate, the way poor Uncle Richard was taken away as his mind failed him. The World is so far gone that it attacks itself, pieces of the World conspire to leave others to sicken and die. I will change this, I will heal this World.

The motel doors open for me and the bright light of the sun silhouettes me in the doorway as I walk out onto the streets of Lost Haven. Little Ulster, the part of Lost Haven that the cancer has corrupted and cut off. The parasites do not care because as long as the cancer festers away from their feeding grounds they are untouched and the weakened people become easy prey for them.

I know not if this is the right course, I must act. Why else would I have this power?

I call to the World and I hear it answer as billions of tiny threads and pieces become clear to me. A deep breath fills my lungs as I take a final moment to ready myself. Then I change myself. It takes practice to change, to know which threads to pull and which pieces to alter so that a change is stable and I have practiced this change many times. My body ripples as I change the structures and finally the aesthetics change too. Wings grow from my back, my hair grows and changes, I feel my bones and flesh shift and rearrange as my new clothing forms around me too, a raiment fit for she who will heal the World.

I hear gasps as people see the changes and I say goodbye to my old appearance and body, knowing that I can never return to it. People look at me in shock, a crimson angel emerging from an ordinary girl; I even see one bow out of the corner of my eyes.

The air solidifies beneath my feet as I step into it and with a thought I am lifted up into the sky. I spread flightless wings and pose for a moment above the city as I gaze down at it. A network of streets for people to travel upon, and a network of causeways through which the parasites feed and the cancer spreads.

The causeways are always the last part to fail, the cancer needs them to spread through the nodes of the city and the parasites use them to transport their ill-gotten gains. I do not know if fixing the decay in the buildings and infrastructure will cure the infection. Does the cancer follow the parasites or do the parasites follow the cancer? I can only learn by action. Even though the World made me so that I could heal it, it did not tell me how.

My hands rise and my wings curl around me while my vision distorts as I see the threads of the World and all the tiny building blocks that make the city below me. I imagine perfection below me as I hover over Little Ulster and with perfection in my mind I thrust my arms out and unfurl my wings. A wave of change sweeps out from me as I struggle to shape the change as I had imagined it.

Damaged buildings change as the air shivers and changes to patch holes seamlessly, potholes smooth over, graffiti is erased, and damage is undone. I am careful; the changes do not touch the people below, bending around them. But some buildings are not fixed and as the city shakes as if there is an earthquake many of the worst places in Little Ulster, the nodes of cancer and the lairs of petty parasites are dragged down into the earth. In their places I raise new structures, a park stands where once a gang infested tenement sprawled, fresh new apartments replace the slums, and derelict buildings are replaced with clean new ones.

I feel a pang of sorrow because no matter how careful I was to only unmake the worst places there would still be innocents lost. The changes stop and I feel my head pound as I continue to stare down at the newly remade part of the city.

Zac Wilson | Kelly Brown | Aubrey Adkins (Dreamverse)
August: 5 Months Before Concurrent Posts
Kelly and Zac attempted to help Aubrey into their apartment unit. Since they decided to have her donate blood at the last minute so that Kelly could swipe some supplies so that they could perform a blood transfusion, Aubrey obviously was fatigued from the experience. Fortunately, it was both dark outside, and they were arriving earlier at their apartment than when other tenants would normally do so. They lead her into the bedroom, helping her recline on the bed. After Zac left the room, Kelly hopped onto the bed, spreading out the supplies for their transfusion, while Aubrey pulled off her power-nullifying wristband.

“I can’t believe I am going to say it, but it feels so good to have this wristband off.” Kelly could not respond, as she was in awe at the transformations that were happening to Aubrey. Aubrey’s legs elongated, becoming what seemed like gigantic spider appendages; they were both covered with a coat of blonde hair. However, the texture of this hair was like that of a comfortable blanket or a soft bathrobe, rather than what one would think of the hairs that would appear on a spider’s body. Three more pairs of legs appeared next to her original legs, all of which were suspended in the air, slightly curled inward. Finally, a large arachnid abdomen emerged, covered with the same hairs as the legs. After the transformations finished, Aubrey pulled off the jeans she had been wearing, since they no longer fit her spideresque frame.

“Wow, I thought you and Zac were just kidding about the spider-thing.” Aubrey just smiled, shaking her head. She wiggled her airborne legs just to make sure that Kelly knew that they were real.

“So, how does your husband handle it when you look like this?”

“Well, while Zac is terrified of wasps, my husband is the polar opposite toward spiders. While other people would like having a dog or a cat as a pet, he would want a freaking spider. As you could probably guess, he was not very apprehensive about this change. His support for me even helped me to come to terms with how I looked. And don’t worry about Zac. He’ll lighten up to your wasp appearance.”

“To be honest, I was hoping that I could just hide it with these wristbands. I mean, if I don’t need to look like that, why remain like that?”

“Well, God gave you these powers for a reason, even if a crazy mad scientist might have actually injected you with the serum in the first place. While we as humans may never understand God’s plans, God has a plan in mind for everyone. Maybe you are destined to help Zac overcome his fears of wasps?”

“Well, even if that is true, what was God’s “purpose” for you being transformed into some where kind of spider-centaur? It sounds like he loves spiders.”

“Trust me. We found more than one ‘purpose’. Like depowering a super-villainess.”

“So, have you thought of any other ‘purposes’ for your powers beyond bashing super-villains in the face?”

“Actually, yes I have.” Aubrey replied. “I actually thought about donating my blood because of my healing factor or my spider silk due to the multiple applications for which it could be used. However, in the end, I would be milked like a cow for my blood and silk rather than be treated like a normal human being. That’s way I do super-heroics with my powers. Stopping people that the police or even the United States government cannot put down. Anyways, when are we going to start this blood transfusion?”

“I already drew blood from you and injected into my circulatory system.” Aubrey looked toward Kelly. All the red spots that had covered her body had dissipated; her coughing had disappeared.

---

The three of them sat on a couch; Kelly and Zac were watching a program on their television, while Aubrey was messing with her phone, which still seemed to work, although she has received several text messages that were intended for this universe’s version of herself. Hopefully her other self was also receiving these messages too.

“Wow, my old password to Facebook still works.” Aubrey said in surprise, as she scrolled through the account so that she could see how their lives were different. However, her eyes suddenly opened up wide.

“What wrong, Aubrey?”

“Well, apparently your universe’s version of me is single, and just a few seconds ago your universe’s version of my husband (who is obviously not “my” husband in this universe) just IM’ed me. Should I try to feint that I am your “Aubrey”?

“Aubrey,” Kelly said frankly, “I personally would blow him off and log off right now. You don’t want to be screwing with anyone.”

“But according to their record of messages, they have had several conversations over the last couple years. I’ll just be extremely careful. On another subject, what are we going to have for dinner? Do you have anything here to eat?” Kelly and Zac looked at one another, and then glanced back at Aubrey, shaking their heads. “Well, I will go out and get some groceries once I am done here.” After several minutes had passed, Aubrey got up from where she was sitting and headed out the door for the local grocery store.

“Zac,” Kelly started, “I want to apologize for being such a bitch on the way down here because I was so antagonistic towards Aubrey. It was just that a mixture of the anxiety of becoming some weird humanoid wasp and of jealousy of the attention you were giving Aubrey created a perfect storm.”

“I should be the one apologizing,” Zac replied, “I am the worst boyfriend ever by how I treated you when I discovered that you shared several physical attributes with a wasp. I should have listened to you when you said that your barb was still sheaved. I just had such a realistic dream where you did sting me that caused by reaction.”

“Well, we both could work a little harder at our relationship. If we both work together, I think we can get use to our new appearances.”

“I think I can do that.”

Their television program was suddenly interrupted by a news bulletin. “Breaking news,” said the news anchorman, “a robbery at a local grocery store near the ASU campus was recently thwarted by a good Samaritan, whom we assume is a metahuman. Let us run the short clip we have while we tried to interview this person.” The screen quickly cut to a different image, where the newswoman was starting to ask the costumed heroine a question.

“Oh god, that is Aubrey!” Kelly and Zac said simultaneously. They turned back toward the television screen just in time to hear the first question asked by the news reporter.

“So everyone back at home might want this one question be answered. Are they real?” The news reporter asked.

“Well, of course my spider portion of my body is real. Otherwise this would be an extremely awkward and uncomfortable position to be in.”

“That wasn’t what I was referring at.” The news reporter started to gesture to his chest. Aubrey placed her hand over her eyes, not believing that she was being asked this question.

“Why am I always asked this question? Anyways, yes they are real. On that note, I am going to leave now.”

Kelly and Zac laughed together, knowing how embarrassing that must had been for Aubrey. Suddenly, they both realized that Aubrey’s cell phone was lying on the couch; her email address and the password already were entered since the “remember password” option had been selected. They shifted through the images attached to the profile, discovering the appearance of their world’s Aubrey.

“Sorry I’m late.” Aubrey said, as she walked into the apartment. “There was a problem by the grocery store, so I decided to get some take-out Chinese.” As she set the bags of food on the kitchen table, she saw that her phone was in their hands. “What are you doing with my phone?”

“Would you like to retract you previous statements?” Zac joked, holding up the phone that had an image of their world’s Aubrey. While her face looked exactly the same, everything below her neck looked like a normal girl. Aubrey was not sure what they were talking about, until she saw what was running on the television, where that news reporter tried to interview her.

“Okay, I did look just like that. But this,” Aubrey said, gesturing her hands from shoulder level to half way down her calf, “is what happens when you run into a perverted introvert with powers to alter reality and make it permanent. When you live in a world filled with super-powered people, weird crap happens. I never wanted to look like this, but you just have to work with the hand you are given.”

A knock came at the door. When Aubrey answered the door, she found an old man standing at their door, accompanied by a small boy.

“I think you have the wrong address.”

“No, I do not, Aubrey.” The old man said. “I have come exactly to the correct address. Now, will you please let me in?” The old man walked into the apartment, led by the young boy. “My name is Tiresias. The same people who gave you two your powers held me because they desired to use my powers to find something that would aid them in completing their method that gave normal humans powers. I pulled Aubrey into our reality so that I could set my escape in motion. But I have come to send her back.”

“Before you send me back, could I do two things?” Aubrey said. “First, Zac, take my wristband. You both need it more than I do. I can always get another one where I come from.” Aubrey tossed her wristband over toward Zac, causing her lower body to return to its arachnid appearance. “Second, let me get my share of Chinese. I still haven’t eaten dinner eat.” She laughed as she grabbed her share of the Chinese meal. However, before Tiresias had a chance to send her back, Aubrey just thought of a third thing she needed to take. “Let me take the materials that were used for the transfusion. It will be easier for me to discard them than it will be for you two. Oh, and also, I need my phone back, too.”

And as fast as she had come to this world, Aubrey vanished back to hers. “So, do you have powers to place people into alternate universes and pull them back?”

“No. I can only place people into the dreams of others. The Aubrey you met was from a dream produced from my young guide. And don’t be looking for me. For I have seen a vision that Apollo, my divine inspiration, will strike me down with his arrows when I drink from the waters of a troubled city.”

“Well, everything seems to be in order. Congratulations Mr. Hunter, you are clear for your opening.” Mr. Jeffries, the city building inspector said after a thorough walkthrough of the building that will soon be known all over the city as The Hub.

This was the last in a long list of inspections that the club had to pass in order to be allowed to open. Though the club was still more than 2 weeks away from being ready to open, they were now free to concentrate on other important matters- Finalizing vendor contracts, securing DJ’s and other entertaining, and the like.

Just as Mr. Jeffries had turned and began to make his way to the front door, his clipboard in hand, satisfied with yet another day’s work, there was a strange rumbling sound and the ground began to shake.

The tremor only lasted a few seconds, but had left the inspector shaken. The pale faced man turned back to Scott and forced a chuckle.

“Well, we don’t get many of those around here….though it isn’t unheard of.” He said, almost as if trying to convince himself more than anything.

Scott, who had spent some time on the West Coast was used to earthquakes, though never one in Maine.

“Yeah.” Was all he managed to say as the inspector turned around again and continued out the door.

Scott knew that while the earthquake, if that is what it had been seemed relatively minor in comparison to some that he had experienced in California, the buildings in Lost Haven were not built to withstand an earthquake, which meant that there was a good chance that the quake had caused some real damage, and it was quite possible that people may have been injured or otherwise needed his help.

There was a blur of motion as he raced to the front door and locked it. Then, another blur of motion as he raced up the stairs, past his apartment and out the roof access door, where he had shed his civilian clothes, taking to the skies as Icon to observe any damage that the earthquake had caused.

As Icon flew across the city, he was relieved to see that the actual damage caused by the quake was relatively minor after all. However, his relief was replaced by bewilderment as he approached Little Ulster. The section of town which had come to be called "New Detroit" by some of the city's residence in reference to the disproportionately high crime rate, as well of the state of decay of many of the buildings in the neighborhood.

However, what he saw when he reached Little Ulster was not the decaying neighborhood that he had come to know. Instead of crumbling tenements and and deteriorating storefronts, he found a nearly pristine section of city, the buildings no longer in a state of decay. On the contrary, they looked almost brand new, and in the middle of Little Ulster, where the notorious MacCarver tenement had been replaced by a new, neatly groomed park.

If he hadn't known better, Icon would have thought that he had taken a wrong turn somewhere and had found himself flying over another section of the city, however, he knew that this was not the case. Then something else caught his eye-Slowly flying over Little Ulster was what could only be described as a crimson, angel like being. He could only assume that she had something to do with the sudden rejuvenation of Little Ulster, however, before he could investigate the strange entity, something else caught his attention

Screaming, scratching and begging for help from down below. The sounds were muffled, almost as if coming from below the ground. Fearing the worst, Icon closed his eyes, and utilized his "radar sense," he found that his fears were well founded. The muffled sounds were in fact coming from below the ground. From his special sense, he was able to locate dozens of people under the ground where the infamous tenement had once stood, however, the cries for help were from but a few.

Icon immediately dove for the ground toward the cries for help, and upon touching down, immediately went to work to free whoever it was that had been trapped below. He moved fast, in moments moving a truck full of dirt and rock, then mortar and plaster. Suddenly, shock, then panic set in as he realized exactly what he was facing. The entire tenement was under the park. He began digging more furiously, until he had forced himself through the layer of brick and plaster, and made contact with an arm. He reached in and pulled the person out, and much to his relief the young woman was alive.

"It's alright, I've got you. Icon said as he pulled the young woman from what had once been her apartment, her only reply was a gasp of air.

"You'll be alright." he reassured her before returning to the task of rescuing anyone who may have been still alive.

I suppress the pangs of sorrow for the lost. It was a mercy to let them die in the healing of the World. If I had not swallowed the parasites and the nodes of cancer they would have lived and it would have grown back. I nod my head and the air beneath my feat carries me over Little Ulster. It is only the beginning, there is so much cancer and there so many of the parasites to expunge but this first act of healing leaves me pleased and I feel myself smile.

I see people fill the streets below me and watch them stare with wonder at the remade city that surrounds them. It is not perfect and some of the parasites will be among the awestruck, but maybe they will change with the cancer removed. I buried their strongholds and their lairs. People look up to the sky and see me there. I hear cheering and praise for what I have done, expressions of awe, and a few whispered prayers that call me God. But I am not God for there is no God. Is there?

The air beneath me starts to descend and I drift towards the ground, a crimson angel come to answer the prayers of a sick and dying World. Maybe they will listen when I tell them of the cancer and the parasites, the sickness, and the dying World.

The silver and blue blur streaks through the air and I catch a glimpse of it in the corner of my eye. I feel another moment of hope. Maybe he is also trying to heal the World; maybe he saved a parasite by accident not design. I slow my descent and my mouth opens to call a greeting and invite him to join me. But before I can speak he streaks to the park that I had made.

I see the beauty that I brought forth and smile before he starts to dig. My eyes widen in shock and alarm. He seeks to unearth the cancer and free it again. Suddenly I understand, he kept the space station from crashing to save the cancer and the parasites in the city. He is their servant, a weapon to save them. It is painfully obvious and my heart wilts with the realization that the infection is worse than I ever dreamed in my darkest nightmares. But I feel my resolve stiffen as he digs and I understand.

It is not enough to bury the nodes of cancer, the World is too ill to consume them and heal. Instead they will fester inside until their servants free them. I call to the World and tell it to change, my vision distorting as again I see all the threads and pieces of it. The park shudders and settles a few inches as the cancerous node of the tenement below it is altered to simple soil in an instant. I do not spare the people for if they are freed many parasites will escape and there will be no evidence of them now.

The earth rises and a solid plug of the world pushes the digging servant of the cancer up from below before I reshape it to be the grass and sod of the park.

Christopher Arthur III
The cold wind chilled Colonel Cornwall as he paced around an observation bunker situated within the Nevada desert. He quickly glanced at his watch and groaned at what he saw.

“Damn Billionaires, why can’t they have any sense of time? They should learn that the solar system is heliocentric, not egocentric.”

Suddenly, a television monitor switched on within the room, revealing an image of a well-dressed man.

“Welcome, Colonel Cornwall, to an exclusive demonstration of the Daedalos Mark Four. I hope you sit back, relax, and enjoy your buttered popcorn that can be found at the nice concession stands to the rear of the theater. Please enjoy!”

“Can this guy take anything seriously?”

Finally, a robotic exoskeleton burst from the ground, flying straight up into the air. Once it reached the apex of its launch, it looped toward the ground until it straightened itself so that it was parallel to the ground. On the ground in front of the exo-suit were several metallic targets. Immediately after the suit reached the targets, it launched several missiles, piercing each target straight through the middle. The exoskeleton performed a crash down strike on the final target, smashing it with its fist.

In quick succession, the armor launched itself back into the air, darting towards a metallic structure that was beginning to collapse. Instantaneously, several rockets flew straight towards the armor, homing in for the killing blow; however, a blue energy shield appeared around the exoskeleton deflected every last one. The suit landed near one of the falling pillars that supported the collapsing structure, attempting to support the weight of the building. A small laser popped out from the suit, welding the pillar back in its place. The suit repeated this action on all the pillars, saving the almost-doomed building.

After the performance was completed, the Colonel stepped outside of the bunker, waiting for the armor to land.

“While it is totally clear that that armor can perform several different tasks, there is still one more question. So, Mr. Arthur, how does it performed against them meties*.”

However, when the helmet of the suit retracted, the Cornwall was shocked to discover that Christopher Arthur, CEO of Knight’s Corp was NOT the man controlling the suit.

“Sorry Colonel Cornwall,” the pilot said, “Mr. Arthur left for Brazil on quite a short notice. Unless you really want to bother him with an international phone call, you would probably have to wait until he comes back.”

“What is God’s name is he doing in Brazil?”

---

Christopher Arthur III basked in the Brazilian rays, enjoying the soothing crashes of the Atlantic’s surfs. During the cold winter months that plagued the Eastern United States, Chris made it a priority for him to retreat to a warmer climate. This year, he chose to enjoy a nice, quiet beach on the Brazilian coast. Everything seemed tranquil there, or at least until his cell phone began to buzz.

“Greetings and Salutations from the Sunny Shores of Brazil!” Chris replied.

“Why the [explicit] were you not at the DM4 Test?” Colonel Cornwall barked.

“Don’t worry, Colonel. I was just fixing these dolls teeth.” Chris joked, wondering if the bitter and hardened military man would get his joke.

“What in the name of Mike does that mean?”

“Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer? Jeez, didn’t you have a childhood, or was that before you times”.

“Now you get down here right this instance or else...”

“Or else what? You’ll fire me.” After Chris’ response, he heard the connection abruptly disconnect, undoubtedly because of the Colonel’s rage. “Well, looks like I am heading back up North. Well, at least I enjoyed Summer in January while it lasted.”

---

* Meties = Metahumans (similar to Muties = Mutants).

Icon held another survivor within his grasp, gently pulling the man up through the soil and mortar. As he pulled, he felt an odd sensation, as if the ground buckled beneath him, and the man within his grasp began to wither away even as he attempted to free the man from his would be tomb. When Icon finally pulled his hands free from the dirt, there was nothing in his hands but fistfuls of soil.

Before he could react, the earth beneath him again began to move. Instead of buckling and sinking down further, which one might expect, the earth instead began to rise, forcing him out of the hole which he had dug to get access to the people trapped beneath the ground. Then, the hole closed, and where a large patch of dirt and rubble should have been visible, instead the neatly groomed grass of the park was once again visible.

Sensing that who, or whatever was responsible for this bizarre occurrence is near, Icon turns and sees the winged figure that he had observed flying about Little Ulster was now standing directly across from him. He was somewhat taken aback by the appearance of the winged figure that stood before him. She was a pretty woman with long blood red hair that went about halfway down her back, and a set of six wings, the color of the feathers matched her hair. She took a step toward him, her red and gold robes flowing as she moved, her crimson eyes locked on his.

He did not know exactly what he was looking at, but it was certain that this woman was responsible for the deaths of all of those people in that tenement, and possibly countless others that happened to be in the vicinity.

”What have you done?” Icon asked as he took several steps toward the figure.

I watch the man climb to his feet and the pain in his gaze surprises me. He truly cared for the cancer and the lives of the parasites who fed on the weakness it created? My eyes narrow as his lock on my face and I feel a surge of pride that I had stopped his attempts to free the cancer and bring it back to the surface. He starts to move towards me and I raise my hand, turning the air around him into a solid except for in front of his mouth so he can breathe.

As he questions me I look him in the eyes and take a step closer. What have I done? I have begun to heal the World, and destroyed a piece of the cancer that gnaws at it. He is a servant of the cancer and the parasites, he must know my task. So why does he ask if not to trap me. Even in disgust I acknowledge the cleverness of the infection, it shapes its weapons well. He will not trap me. Yet he is beloved by the World despite his true nature. I can set my own trap.

I lean closer as if we are intimate and whisper in his ear as I hold his body in place, “I have healed this land and exorcised the cancer you serve as you well know.”

Icon is stunned by his sudden inability to move. He strains against the invisible chains that hold him in place, to no avail. Even as the woman leaned into him, and softly whispered into his ear, he struggled. Unable to free himself even as her words were burned into his mind.

Healed this land? he thought to himself, his rage building within him, threatening o boil over. She’s insane.

”You murdered those people. Families, children. And for what?!” he demanded angrily, still struggling to free himself from the woman’s thrall.

I raise a single brow incredulously as he claims that I have committed murder. He makes a great pawn and I can see why the infection chose him. He pretends to fight for the world even as he protects the cancer that eats away at it. The people who died so parasites and the nodes of cancer could be exorcised were offered a merciful death. They lived among the cancer and would have fallen prey to it if they had lived.

“The World is sick and slowly dying. A cancer and the parasites that feed on suffering and pain have spread unchecked for too long. I have exorcised the cancer and slain the parasites here.” I still whisper and add another layer to the solid air around the servant of the infection. “I have brought the dead a mercy for they have not died in vain.”

Icon feels his rage threaten to reach a fever pitch, yet he is unable to do anything about it. Still bound by this madwoman’s power, he is unable to move. He continued to strain, to fight against his binds, but the struggle appeared to be futile.

”The world isn’t perfect. It has its problems, I think we can both agree on that. But this isn’t the way to change that. You can’t just kill wantonly like this.” he said, pleading with the woman. People are generally good. You have to give them a chance. What you’ve done is murder for the sake of murder. Nothing more.”

I frown and shake my head at his statement. He still claims that he does his work for the good of the World as he protects the infection. I see him for what he is, the weapon of the infection and a servant of the cancer and the parasites. All I have told him has been truth and he has continued to lie. “Tell me this place was not infested by parasites, a cancer of decay and a festering sore in the World. Tell me this park is not fairer.”

I notice that a crowd has gathered and I know that my trap will work now. A smile flickers onto my lips and I reshape the air that holds the servant of the infection to cover his mouth but not his nose. The invisible cage makes it look we are just talking and I whisper to him one final time. “They will turn against you. The cancer and the parasites will only value you while you serve them.”

Then I turn to the crowd and beam at them as they gaze at me with expressions of awe and thanks. “I am Mercy.” I speak at full volume as my wings flare out in a figure of crimson majesty. “I have healed this land, and given you a gift.” My hand makes a sweeping gesture and the other remnants of cancer nodes beneath Little Ulster change to soil as well.

“You know Icon.” I say to the crowd and take his hand, holding the layers of air around it. The air changes and compels his arm to rise as I lift mine with it. “He has pledged to help heal the World of all that plagues it.” I finish and I feel my spirit soar as I hear the cheers from the crowd. I know they are watching and they will have seen their weapon betray them. They will turn on him in time.

I step into the air as it solidifies under my feet and rise into the sky again. I pose the servant of the cancer properly, moving his arms with the air and then lift him too as if he is flying with me. He disgusts me for he has the power to do so much to heal the World and he serves the infection instead. After we rise out of sight I form a platform of solid air beneath him. “When they turn against you I will be there. You can help heal the World. Forsake the cancer and the parasites.” My last words hang in the air as I bend the light around myself and hide from his eyes. I leave and a few minutes later I let the prison and the platform melt back into gas.

Icon looked on helplessly as the woman began addressing the crowd, telling lies and making false promises. Again, he struggled to free himself, even as he found himself unable to speak, unable to set the record straight. The people who cheered them didn’t realize what had happened, that a madwoman had killed dozens, if not hundreds of people in cold blood, and deceived them into believing that she were helping. Worse yet, she also ensured that those very same people would be led to believe that he was complicit in her actions. Sadly, it was working. It was clear that the people here believed every word she was saying, and it could take some doing to change that perception.

However, it became clear that this was her plan. She sought to discredit him, to turn the people against him, and he knew that it was a very real possibility that she would succeed. Though the overwhelming response to his arrival in Lost Haven had been positive, there were some that spoke out against him, fearing that he may have less than noble intentions, and being seen to be working in concert with the madwoman, whether her actually were or not, would give those few voices more power.
Before he knew it; they were drifting skyward, and the woman gave voice to his concerns, confirming that indeed, her plan was for the people to turn against him. She had hoped that by turning the people of Earth against him, she would force him to join her. He tried to speak, to tell her that her plan would never work, that even if he was hated, he would always do what he could to help, but he was silent, unable to speak because of the invisible restraints.

Then she was simply gone, and he was free. He looked in the space that had just moments before held the madwoman, and he clenched his jaw in anger.

"I'll never join you." He vowed.

"And I will stop you."

Calling her a “hero” was stretch, to say the least. She could look like a hero if she wanted to, she could act like one on occasion, but when push came to shove Madeline Cooper was nothing more than a weak-willed pessimist with too much in her history for her to look towards the future. Over the course of the last week Maddie was made painfully aware of her standing on the hero-villain food chain; a bottom-feeder at best, Maddie lacked the resolve necessary to keep to her decisions.

A passive and reclusive person as of late, Madeline was beginning to struggle against those with a strong will, a quality that made her an incompetent if not inept super-hero. As if to prove her own point, on the night that her dorm room had been vandalized, her preserverance had dissolved within the hour. Having given up on the idea of supporting herself outside of the school housing and having lost her determination to discover just who it was that had uncovered her identity, she had made it back to the school before her clothes had even had the time to dry.

Wet, room-less and holding onto a great amount of cowardice, Maddie was dreading the events of later that night. Though she didn’t want to confront whoever it was that knew about her and her powers, it had to be done and Maddie had more than a sneaking suspicion about who it could be. She just had to get conformation. But first she had to report the state of her room to the main office, wait to be relocated later that night and make a few necessary preparations in order to ensure that things went according to her plan. First, though, she needed a pen and some paper...

[Later that night, 11:05 PM, Bristol College]

There before her stood a slim figure beneath the one slightly unreliable light that highlighted the cement block that was Hidden Park. A blonde bob greeted her at the late hour, provoking her to stand tall against a seemingly defenseless opponent, but she wouldn’t be fooled despite the villain’s girlish appearance. Madeline Cooper might have been a weak-willed pessimist, but Epione was a completely different matter. Epione was the body of the justice that Madeline wanted to see achieved, the “E” on her chest a symbol of her newfound (and slightly false) confidence, but it was enough.

Not an hour earlier, Maddie had planted a letter in Violet Church’s bag, a letter addressed to her personally that invited her to this exact location, though in a round-about way. Maddie had made certain to choose her wording carefully and she had been successful. Violet Church had proven herself guilty just by showing up at the right location. Violet didn’t seem to be very concerned given the circumstances, but Epione went on as planned.

”How did you find out who I was?” Epione demanded, keeping her shoulders stiff as she spoke.

”You could say that it was an accident,” Violet said slowly, eyeing Epione as if she was the dangerous one rather than the opposite way around. “It’s not all that unimaginable, is it? We live in the same room, after all, so I think it’s rather possible that it could of been just an accident.

The blunt way Violet spoke made it obvious that she was lying, at least in Epione’s opinion. Her vague answer only aggravated Epione, but she wasn't going to give in to her frustration so easily. The point of calling Violet out here wasn't to find out how Epione's identity was discovered, but to evaluate Violet as a threat and decide where to go from here. Epione decided to let her get away with avoiding her first question.

”What do you want with me?” Epione said, attempting to appear much bigger and more threatening than she actually was. Her voice gave her away.

”To be partners.” Violet replied blandly, not seeming to give her answer a second thought. Taken off guard, Epione faltered. Partners? Partners in what, crime? Was Violet a villain?

“Partners? I’m not a villain!” Epione shouted quietly, as quietly as any shout could be, and felt the heat in her cheeks rise. What gall.

”Neither am I,” Violet snapped, approaching Epione calmly. “I’m just not very good at being a hero yet. I keep making mistakes, so things don’t always turn out how I want them to. But it isn’t intentional.”

For just a moment,Epione felt that she was similar to Violet. Many times, she had thought the exact same thing and blamed herself for making things worse than they already were. But that moment was gone quickly; there was a high probability that she was lying and Epione wasn’t going to make herself easy to manipulate.

”How am I supposed to believe an excuse like that?” Epione said, finding her proof once more as she recalled what had happened last Tuesday, “You endangered people’s lives! You started a three way collision!” It got her angry just thinking about it. The heat in her cheeks from earlier was steadily progressing into an urge to set her stupid, blonde head of hair on fire. She settled for the few weeds growing in the cracks in the cement nearby Violet. Violet hardly seemed to notice as the dandelion’s caught fire.

”That was an accident, too. I’d just meant to hit you with the car, not anyone else.” Violet said shamelessly, making Epione fume. Was she trying to take the mickey out of her?!

”Why would you admit to that!” Epione shouted, though it wasn’t a question. With less restraint, Epione was finding herself easily angered by the monotonous way that Violet spoke.

”What? Is that a problem? You’re a hero, right? Getting hit by a car shouldn’t be a big deal.”

”I’m not immortal! I’d still die if I got hit by a car going that fast!”

”Oh. I’m sorry I tried to hit you then.” Violet apologized, though Epione only heard sarcasm in her words. Violet suddenly lifted her arm -- Epione reacted before she could fully think about what she was doing. A flash of orange struck across the night as Violet’s hand lit on fire. With a scream (Epione was almost relieved to hear something so human out of her), Epione realised her mistake. There was no weapon in the hand she had extended, no malicious intent and in that second and not a moment earlier

Epione suddenly realised that she was the bad guy in this situation.

Zac Wilson | Kelly Brown
Mid-January
For the last five months, life seemed to have turned around for the better. After their first incident with their newly obtained powers, nothing out of the ordinary happened; their lives seemed to have returned to normal. A semester of college came and went by, Zac excelled on the football field, becoming the leading rusher in their conference without the aid of his powers. Even over Winter Break, Kelly even got to spend more time with Zac’s family, unlike during the summer where her visit was cut short. But most important of all, they both worked on Zac’s Spheksophobia (fear of wasps) by designating one night a week for an “at home” dinner where they did not wear the power-nullifying bands.

However, once mid-January rolled around, troubled reared its ugly face onto the scene. Apparently someone had anonymously tipped the NCAA that Zac could be a metahuman, which would creating an uneven playing field for people without powers, resulting in the Albany State football program to become under NCAA investigation. While Zac was not worried about the allegations because he never used his powers while on the playing field (his raptor appearance would make it clear in itself that he was a metahuman); nevertheless, the only thing that would cause Zac concern was that his powers, if he had used them, would indeed place him at an unfair advantage against the other athletes.

Zac unlocked the front door of the apartment that he shared with Kelly, immediately rushing inside in order to escape from the bitter chill of winter. He called out to Kelly, making his entrance known. However, he did not hear a reply, although he did hear the shower running. Zac decided to see what was on T.V. while he waited for Kelly to get out of the shower. But when he turned on the television, all he saw was news bulletins about the recent metahuman activity: how the Blue Marvel called Icon saved Lost Haven from a fatal impact from an earthbound space station, Icon’s clash with a mysterious character utilizing an advanced exoskeleton suit, and the weird activity around Little Ulster.

Zac noticed that Kelly’s laptop was still running on their kitchen table, with an internet tab open to a youtube page. Once Zac realized that the video was titled: “Wasp Transformation ;)”, he knew this would be troublesome. He immediately reloaded the video and started it from the beginning.

”See that girl,” a female narrator in the video said, “She has been wearing that band on her arm for the last five months. I think it’s time for a new one.”

Meanwhile, one of the other nurses was distracting Kelly was some small talk. From behind Kelly, another nurse sneaked up from behind and clipped off the band. Almost as soon as they clipped the band, Kelly fell to the ground, grasping her waist. Her skin changed tint, transforming into a pale yellow. Her additional arms burst through her scrubs, along with the wasp abdomen.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kelly said with tears running down her cheeks. As she looked up toward the girl filming what was happening, she revealed the insect antennae and her black compound eyes.

Kelly swooped up what remained of her power-nullifying band and started to head out of the door. However, once she pulled on the door, she unintentionally pulled the door off its hinges.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen” Kelly whimpered. After putting down the door, she rushed out the door in tears.”

“That is by far the most amazing thing I have ever seen” the narrator said.

The video ended there. Zac was astonished by whoever posted the video, although he reassured himself that at least that person had enough class to not put her name in the video description. Or that was he though until he switched over to the tab that contained Kelly’s Facebook account. The same video appeared in Kelly’s news feed; however, someone actually tagged her in the video. Furthermore, more than a thousand people had already shared the video to their Facebook “friends”. Zac quickly logged out of her account and shut down the computer.

“Kelly, Is it alright if I come in?” Zac asked as he knocked on the bathroom door.

“It’s unlocked.” Kelly was sitting on the basin of the shower, still fully dressed in her blue scrubs. Tears still were running down her face.

“Don’t worry, Kelly. We’ll think of something.”

“What’s the point? My secret is out. At least your parents can now know that I broke your bedroom door.”

Zac rubbed his chin, thinking about what his next move should be. “Kelly, how about you dry off and get into some fresh clothes while I prepare some popcorn so that we can watch a movie. We can relax tonight and then deal with this tomorrow. You deserve getting this off your mind.”

“But...” Kelly started, but Zac placed his index finger against her lips, signaling her to remain silent. Therefore, she just nodded to show her agreement to the plan.

While Zac waited for the popcorn to finish, Zac got another idea. While it probably was a long shot, he decided it would not hurt. Zac found the severed wristband and repaired it by binding the around where it was cut with some duct tape. Once they were both situated on their couch in front of the television, Zac gave his girlfriend the “repaired” wristband. Although it returned her normal skin tone and her regular eyes, everything else remained the same.

“Well, it’s the thought that counts” Kelly told her boyfriend, wrapping her upper arms around his neck and plucking a kiss on his cheek, while her lower hands grasped the popcorn bowl.

However suddenly, a small canister rolled across the floor, releasing a white smoke. “What in the world is...?” Both Kelly and Zac started to say, but neither could finish their sentence because they were knocked out cold, spilling the popcorn all over the floor.

The black sword rises above me as I frantically clamber to my feat in time to block. My glowing blade vibrates in my hand as I parry the blow. I step forward and thrust with my left hand to drive the barbed blade through the man’s armor and into the flesh of his chest. He does not scream and I know that he is lost to it. I see the black smoke start to pour from the mouth of the Dark possessed corpse and I try to raise my blade with my right arm. It is pinned and I throw myself backwards in desperation as another of the Dark possessed comes up behind me.

He grabs my arms and as I struggle the cloud surrounds me. It can’t get it, the seals will hold. But for how long? I strain harder and try to pull free but the hands are like iron and I cannot break free. A faint hissing sound fills my ears and I know the seals are weakening.

They hide in the shadows and want to take me, to make me one of them. I will die first. I start to chant a spell to unleash my soul and die uncorrupted. “Aldrax vol na-” I am interrupted as a glowing blade far larger than mine slices through the cloud and it scatters. Even the Dark possessed can be surprised and I pull free of its grip and fall to the ground as the glowing sword sweeps by over me to strike down the Dark possessed.

I see him in the light of his blade as he reaches down with his hand. “Thanks” I say and I stretch out my hand to take his…

---

“Oww”

I wake up with pain in my hand. Oh no, not another dream. I thought I had gotten past them because I hadn’t had one in almost two days. I shake my head and blink my eyes as I look at my I-home with sleep fogged eyes. 7:14 AM, My alarm was due to go off in just a minute. At least I got to sleep for almost the whole night before the dream woke me.

I untangle myself from the covers and then press the off button just before my alarm can start to blare. Today is a new day and I had such a wonderful time last night. I do have a boyfriend now and that’s awesome. But the dreams are back and if the armor is real and the powers are real. No, I tell myself firmly. I need to focus on school and navigating my first relationship. Besides I don’t have time to be pensive, I have a lab in 20 minutes and I need a shower.

From his perch upon an adjacent rooftop, Lyger had watched the warehouse that the thug he had placed the tracking beacon on had gone after he had left the arcade. It was not long before he realized that he was certainly in the right place. He had observed a virtual fleet of trucks loading and offloading various crates, as well as a number of members of the 83rd Street Demons, and some men that he had never seen before. However, it wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of the international arms dealer known as The Franchise that he knew for a fact that this was in fact where the supply of weapons was flooding into the city.

Silently, he had made his way to the rooftop of the warehouse where he looked for an easy point of entry. He located a roof access door, however upon testing it he found that the door was locked. He applied a slight amount of pressure to a sensor within his right glove, extending his retractable claws. Then, he dug the diamond composite steel claws into the door just above the door handle, moving in a circular motion around it. When he completed the circle, a slight push against the door handle jarred it loose, allowing Lyger to gently push the door open and slip inside.

Once inside, Lyger silently made his way to the main storage area of the warehouse. Finding cover behind a stack of large crates, he carefully peaked around the warehouse in an attempt to get a better view of his opposition. When he was sure that he was clear, he fired a grapnel line from his wrist gauntlet, then quickly propelled himself up into the rafters where he was able to get a bird’s eye view of exactly what he was up against. He counted a dozen armed thugs, several men in suits who he did not recognize, and then there was the man himself…the source of much of his frustration over the past several months, The Franchise.

He waited silently from the rafters, watching as the armed thugs patrolled the perimeter of the warehouse. Picking his spots carefully, he quickly reduced the number of armed guards by half before returning to the rafters. Quickly but silently; he made his way through the rafters, ducking and dodging through the steel beams as he maneuvered over the warehouse floor, always keeping an eye on the armed thugs and those they were guarding below.

He waited as another pair of thugs made their way just below him. He dropped down behind them, landing silently and firing a pair of sedative darts from his wrist gauntlet, the darts sticking into back of each man’s neck, knocking them out before they could make a sound. However, he had not anticipated the third guard who was rounding the corner just as he was about to use his grapnel line to return to the rafters.

“Hey! We got trouble!” The thug shouted as he leveled his weapon in Lyger’s direction, firing a pair of shots which he was able to avoid.

“No! You idiot, hold your fire! You’ll hit the ordinance!” The Franchise ordered, indicating the crates of explosive ammunition scattered throughout the warehouse.

Lyger took advantage of the momentary distraction, bounding toward the thug he hit him with a hard right cross, rendering him unconscious.

Panicked by the sudden intrusion by the masked man, the men in suits, who were simply there to purchase the weapons and wanted to avoid any potential entanglements with the law, quickly made their way from the warehouse, jumping in their vehicles and driving away as fast as they could.

Inside the warehouse, Lyger ducked behind several crates, waiting for his next opportunity to strike. That opportunity came sooner than he had expected when one of the two remaining guards rounded the corner nearest him, allowing Lyger to sneak up behind him and put him in a choke hold, almost instantly knocking the thug out as he dragged him back toward the cover of shadows that the crates had provided before ascending back to the rafters.

He watched from above as The Franchise and the last remaining guard stood on high alert, not willing to abandon their deposit of advanced weaponry, looking for an opening to strike.

“Come on out, it’s just us!” The Franchise called, angrily holding a rifle over his head by the middle of the barrel, pointing it toward the sky.

Lyger moved through the rafter toward them. He continued until he was direct over them, then dropped to the floor. He landed between them, hitting the thug with a hard right hand and landing a spinning roundhouse kick to the chin of The Franchise with such speed that it almost appeared to be a simultaneous assault. He grabbed The Franchise by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up.

“Who do you work for?” Lyger demanded.

“Myself.” The Franchise said as he began to laugh.

“You’re working with someone, I want to know who it is.” Lyger growled, only to be hit by a hard right hand which knocked him back several steps.

The Franchise followed up the surprise assault with a front kick of his own which sent Lyger crumpling backwards. Lyger quickly recovered from the attack and regained his footing. As he prepared to pounce, the thug had also gotten to his feet and stood before him, leveling his weapon at the masked man.

“You’re done.” The thug said as he pulled the trigger.

“No!” The Franchise cried as he rushed toward the thug, grabbing the gun.

Lyger bounded away from the spot that he had previously occupied, avoiding the weapon’s deadly ordinance. Instead, the shot struck a crate filled with highly explosive ammunition, causing the crate to erupt in a fireball which soon engulfed the entire floor of the warehouse.

Lyger fired his grapnel line toward the rafters, quickly making his way to the roof access door from which he had entered the warehouse, even as a series of other explosions began to tear through the building. He bounded up the short staircase which led to the roof, and once he was outside, he sprinted toward the edge of the building. Once he reached the edge, he leapt with all his might, yet still falling short by a dozen yards or more, however, a well placed grapnel line made up the difference, and just a few seconds later he stood on the rooftop of the adjacent building, watching as the warehouse which contained the vast armament exploded.

As he walked away from the edge of the roof, he felt a pang of guilt wash over him as he realized that he didn’t see The Franchise or his men escape the inferno.

***

Within the confines of his office, RenCo CEO Maxwell Renfield looked through several documents that were scattered about his desk detailing various projects that his company was currently engaged in, when his phone rang.

“Renfield.” He said shortly into the phone, aggravated by the interruption. However, his rigid demeanor suddenly changed as he slumped forward in his chair.

“How much was lost?” He shouted rather than asked.

He listened as the man on the other end of the line explained further. He told Renfield about the warehouse explosion that had claimed nearly the entire stock of Tek-53 assault rifles. As the news sunk in, Renfield thought of the sales that he had procured, the military contracts, as well as the black market contacts who had been interested in the advanced weapon.

“A half a billion dollars…” Renfield said, almost wistfully, before continuing. “I want to know exactly what happened, I want to know why, and I want to know what is going to be done about it.” He finished, slamming down the phone.

He sat behind his desk, his head in his hand for a moment, before angrily swiping his arm across the surface of the desk, scattering the contents all about the floor.

***

“Kyle, get up.” Ronnie said as he shook Kyle’s shoulders.

“Wha…what?” Kyle asked, still half asleep.

“Dude, it’s 7:30. We’ve got Dr. Robinson’s class in a half hour.” Ronnie said.

Kyle looked at the clock, and reluctantly began to stir. He didn’t feel like going to class, in fact, still wracked with guilt over the events the prior night, he didn’t feel like doing anything. More than a dozen men were dead, and although he wasn’t responsible for the explosion, he was at least partially responsible.

He decided that after class he'd call Addy and see if maybe they couldn't get together. Even if he couldn't tell her what had happened, being with her may take his mind off of the entire ordeal.

“Alright, fine.” He said as he began to gather his small container of bathroom supplies and headed toward the shower.

Christopher Arthur III
Chris reclined in his chair, aboard his private jet that was headed back to his Virginian residence. While enjoying the refreshments from his private bar, he began to mess around with a wire mesh version of the Daedalos Mark 4. As if he were playing finger football, Chris flicked the helmet of the wire mesh model, sending the computerized image to fly across the enclosed hull of the plane. In its place, Chris took a modernized version of a hoplite helmet and plopped it onto the miniature-scaled model.

“Now that looks better.” Chris said to himself.

Suddenly, a red light that was next to the on-board monitor started to flash. Once Chris flipped on the screen, Colonel Cornwall’s image appeared, his expression revealing that he was not in a good mood (although Chris has never seen him in a “good” mood, so this was normal).

“So, you finally are getting back to work. It’s about time. How in the world do you get anything done?”

“Like the good, old proverb says, ‘All work and no play makes Jack a very dull boy’. I might as well come and see what has been going on since I left for the warmer temperatures of the tropics. So what’s up?”

The Colonel’s face gave Chris a puzzled look, as if he could not believe that he did not know about the current events. “Have you not heard about the several meta-human incidents that occurred in Lost Haven?”

“Just the near miss collision by the falling space station and how that one meta-human successfully diverted its course. What’s his name? I know it starts with an ‘I’.”

“Icon.” The Colonel grumbled.

“Oh, that’s right. Icon. So, what else has been going down in that great city in Maine?”

“Well, first off, there was an attempt on Albrecht Macros, the founder of Marcos International.” As the Colonel began to mention the incident, footage from the assassination attempt appeared on the screen. “Fortunately for Marcos, Icon swiftly came onto the scene and helped thwart the attempt.”

“Cool sword.” Chris said to himself. He started to manipulate a new wire frame model in a shape of a long sword that matched the style of the armor he was developing. While he knew that he could never in his wildest dreams replicate the assailant sword using today’s technology, Chris was still glad it inspired him to create this addition. He even threw in what he called an “Energy Pila” into the design, energy based spears inspired by both Homeric warfare and the Roman Pilum.

“Well, obviously the assailant’s weaponry and armor seems far more advanced than that we have, do you have any idea to whom tech it belongs?”

“No idea. We checked our Intel on the North Koreans, the Chinese, the Russians, even the Iranians, but nothing comes up. It obviously must be privately created and owned.”

Chris leaned back in his chair, pondering on the implications of the unknown assailant’s origin. “Interesting”.

“That’s not even the strangest event! Do you know Little Ulster in Lost Haven?”

“Not particularly. I know Lost Haven is like the New York of Maine, but I don’t really ever go that far north, especially during the winter.”

“Well, Little Ulster was basically a microcosm of Detroit that was situated in Lost Haven. However, here are before and after images of the city”. The image on the left portion of the screen displayed the “old” Little Ulster, revealing a run down and dank city. However, the image on the right was a stark contrast. Greenery and nature seemed to have expanded throughout the city, even as much as replacing one of the larger housing complexes with a giant park.

“Looks like incredible construction work to me.” Chris replied.

“What if I told you that these images were taken within hours of one another? Human hands did not change Little Ulster, Mr. Arthur. A freaking Metie did. We are not sure yet how he or she did it, but we are going to find out!”

“What’s your course of action?”

“Well, we are sending in your DM4 prototype out to investigate the area, of course. We need some Intel on this matter.”

“You’re sending in the prototype?” Chris questioned the Colonel, wondering why ST.R.I.K.E. would take such a bold move by sending in a prototype, when it had not been fully armed yet.

Lost Haven, MAINE

A sound like material tearing can be heard and a portal opens up at 45 degrees 30 feet above the Sherwin-Williams paint store on Birch. A man in black is hurled in a seated position down through the portal.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!"

The roof of the store had needed resurfacing for quite some time, it occasionally leaked in places when it had the rain, and the retail clerks would have to place buckets out. After this day that wouldn’t be required anymore, because buckets would no longer suffice. The man in black made a man in black sized sky light in the roof of the building before finally coming to a complete stop on the linoleum floor.

“What… The… Fuck?!?” The man yelled, more in astonishment and frustration than in agony.

“Huh?” he said, sitting up. Recognizing the familiarity of the situation.

“Deja fucking Vu...”

“Dude.” Came the familiar voice of a young man in his early 20s. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” The man in black said in a robotic voice, starting to get to his feet. “Did-- did you feel that at all?”

“Did I feel that? Man, how hard did you hit your head? We should call you an ambulance, brah. Holy shit, look at the size of that hole!” the clerk said, finally seeing the extent of the damage.

The Man in black started to walk to the front door.

“No insurance, huh? I still can’t let you go anywhere, dude. I mean, how am I gonna explain this to my boss?”

The man stood in silent contemplation. Then he padded himself down, before slowly and deliberately opening a pocket in his cargo pants and pulling out a wad of bills out, flipped through them as if counting them off, before he shrugged and tossed the entire wad onto the front counter.

“Til then... Put a bucket under it.” He offered, turning and walking out the front door. A bell on the front door chiming in his wake.

He had a wallet and cards, objects he didn't have last time he went through the same ordeal... and the device that brought him here the first time was gone. This was different. The clerk was the same. Where was he? What just happened? Was he back in his home world again, or was it some kind of temporal hiccup?

A newspaper page blew across the street and snagged itself on his leg. He picked it up and read it in astonishment. “Iconoclast: The Death of Cynicism” With a sub-heading “Amazing New ‘Icon’ Catches Satellite. Saves Thousands.”. A familiar blue figure was splashed all across the page. His hands shook with cold and excitement as he looked down the streets, contemplating what this could possibly mean as if somehow the answer would come waltzing down the street. He checks the corner and sees Page 1 and today’s date. The same date he came through the portal last time. So much was the same, but the sensation of nausea was gone. That was something at least. It meant he wouldn't have to go back home. A good thing too, because the missing device meant that it would have been impossible to fix this time around.

So what's the plan?

With the nausea gone, a return home was no longer a priority. At least it could fall behind how he was going to handle this newspaper business. A satellite. That was new. New isn't good. Isaac remembered how different the other world's version of himself was and began to be a bit more guarded.

Have to organize equipment again. But how much do I really know about THIS world's Icon? Still sounded like something he'd do. Something he could do. But it was something which shook him to the core.

Just how much COULD he take as known about this world?