Ramsey who had just got back to the couch, sat silently as he watched a blank T.V. screen, which Styx had thoughtfully broke. “Great, you know I gotta find a way to demon proof things. They make child proof locks, how hard can it be?”

He continued to sit in silence, taking bite after bite of his sandwich sipping away at a cold beer. The couch was uncomfortable to say the least, it was cheep and his body sank into the cushions, as the T.V. Just sat there, continuing to bother Ramsey. At this rate he’ll go mad sitting around lazily, staring at the walls; counting the dots on the ceiling, perhaps even making out shapes. As the last bite entered his mouth, he sat up. And walked over slowly to the countertop near the entrance, where his keys lie in a bowl. With a jangle he pocketed them as he made for the door. He had to do something, and sitting around watching the paint move wasn’t one of them.

Unbeknownst to him something really was trying to enter the house from the closed off room, something quite sinister indeed. Perhaps he left at the right time to be unaffected. As it yet had been able to enter the room, it could be that his boredom had inadvertently saved him from an unknown fate. Either way his car started up, as he gave it a few revs and drove off. It was the day after the initial attack. And whatever demons still roamed the city did so under the cover of darkness hiding from the Supers who fought them off the night before, forms lept from shadow to shadow in the city. And for now the city was calm once more.

Ramsey drove through the city as the carnage from the night before was evident, buildings lay in ruins, homes; cars and businesses smashed. Not only did Demons insight panic but rioting and looting, just what Ramsey wanted. Fire Engines sounded off in the distance battling flames from the riots and destruction caused by demons. Whole city streets lie abandoned the citizens hiding in their homes, the streets lay bare in places office workers stayed home and children didn’t go to school. The men that walked the streets did so out of crime, and Ramsey noticed some men carrying a large T.V. He pulled up to the side as his car door swung open.

Walking up to them he ripped out a light post as he came ever closer.”Now That’s a fine looking T.V. How about off loading it in my car, and I won’t beat you within an inch of your life? Come on now, just give me a good reaon to kill you, any reason will do nicely. And don’t you dare drop that or I’ll impale the first one who does.”

The men looked at each other and back to Ramsey, they had little choice but to comply as they placed the T.V, in his back seat, Ramsey swung the ploe into one of the closer men near him, as he yelled.”RUN!!” And watched as they took off leaving him laughing. As he drove off once more police cars were trying to quell the violence a block over and Ramsey was gone, slightly wondering what Styx was up too, but not caring enough to find out.

Aubrey Adkins
“I know who you are and you could be charged for assault on a federal employee. But I understand that your emotions are running high right now. The cage will keep all demons at bay and restrain you for two hours. At which time you will be free to go Audrey.”

And kidnapping isn’t? Am I the only one who sees this double standard here? Honestly, I didn’t even expect being able to cause any damage when I threw that punch. It was more, well, instinct, if that’s the correct way to describe it.

And when the judge will ask what I did, the prosecution will say, “She punched a guy in a high-tech suit of armor, causing the man to fall to his knees”. I hope the court room would break out into laughter at how ridiculous that sounds.

Whatever. It’s obvious that this woman was taking brown-nosing to the next level. She considers that man to be “good man serving an honorable cause”? If that’s the case, then that crazy mad-scientist, who gave me and those other metahumans their powers, must also be an honorable man. Crazy, right?

I then tried to break free of the snare that Ms. “I support this man, in spite of that fact that he blatantly violated this girl’s (i.e. me) rights as a citizen of the U.S. through forced kidnapping” placed upon me. What a joke.

When I attempted to free myself of that woman’s net, I discovered that the restraints seemed more durable than I expected. I could not even make them budge one inch. And when I looked down, I saw that the owl emblem was gone. What timing. When I really need it, it just disappears. Just my luck.

Then suddenly, a great mist started to form around me, so dense that I could not even see outside of it the burning inferno that Lost Haven currently was. A Grecian sandal appeared before my eyes. I knew that this only meant one thing (or rather one person). Athena.

“Are you now going to taunt me for getting captured for, what is this, the third time?” I asked sarcastically.

“No.” Athena replied with an unwavering voice, “I’m here to release you from this primitive technology.”

Athena thrusted the butt of her long spear against the ground next to the plasma cage. As soon as the immortal’s spear struck the ground, the restrains that previously held me down instantly dissolved into thin air. When the cage was gone, my healing factor counteracted whatever stunning effects that remained from that ensnarement.

I looked up to Athena as I still was sitting on the ground.

“Can I go home now? I already had enough punishment for one day.”

I had a feeling that she was going to say no, considering how she has been treating me for the past, what, 48 hours. But when I heard her agree with me, I was so relieved that this was over. Or at least until she placed her hand on my shoulder. This only could mean one thing. Her teleportation trick that I still haven’t gotten used to.

Before I knew it, I was back in my room, away from the demon invasion that had infested Lost Haven.

And the first thing I’m going to do (besides get into normal clothes) is getting myself something to drink, and I’m not talking about water here. I mean, if you look at my laundry list of s*** that has happened to me, I think anyone would agree that I needed something.

Lets’ see here. I have been kidnapped, injected with some chemical that gave me power, dropped from an immense height, which would have killed me if it was not for my healing factor, “stealing” the powers from that weird spider-lady, getting knocked out and being kidnapped again, being told that a “me” from an alternate universe step me up on a Skype date, being knocked out for a second time, that fight with that shady creep who was going total my roommates. Finding out that the people who gave me my powers knew where I lived, waking up covered in blood, being chased by a demon snake, being trapped in a high-tech net (I don’t care what Athena says). I think that covers everything.

After I got back into normal clothes and told Athena that I was heading out, I started out to one of the local bars. Yes, I do go to a Catholic college, but there are definitely places off campus to get something to drink. It is quite a walk, but some college students do crazy things.

As I continued walked in the night, I began to feel light-headed and off-balanced. Maybe I should have stayed back at our apartment and just went to bed. I immediately stopped and considered what I should do next. Continue on or go back? Well, since I wasn’t feeling well all of the sudden, going to a bar was probably the best plan of action.

Therefore, I turned around and headed back to our apartment. However, with each step, I felt more and more light-headed, until everything went black.

This definitely was not good.

Lyger dodged as the demons attacked, striking several of them with his enchanted claws, which reduced the beasts to ash and cinder. However, he knew that he would not be able to fend off the beasts for much longer, as he would soon be a victim of the sheer number of the hellions.

It seemed as if the harder he fought, the more would come, regardless of how many of the beasts his enchanted weapons would turn to ash, they just kept coming.

“I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up, Harry.” Lyger said into the built in comm. Device in his mask.

However, before his mentor could answer, he felt a set of claws rip into his shoulder. As the razor sharp claws tore into his flesh, he felt an intense burning sensation where the demon had attacked. It felt to him like his wounds were on fire, and despite the pain, he fought back. However, the demon had overpowered him.

The demon lifted him into the air and tossed him into the side of a parked minivan, the impact caving in the side of the vehicle where he hit. Stunned by the sudden assault, he looked up and saw several the remaining demons, about eight in all moving in for the kill.

Well, it’s been a good run. he thought to himself as he waited for the beasts to finish him off.

However, the fatal attack never came.

”Looks like you could use a hand.”

Lyger slowly, painfully, lifted his head to see who had stayed his execution. He was surprised to see the familiar silver and blue uniform of the man that the press had dubbed Lost Haven’s greatest hero.

“Icon.” He said, pausing as he forced himself to get to his feet. “I think we should get to that portal and shut it down.”

Then

The box lowered.

A small crowd gathered around a wooden box, slowly lowering into the ground on a suitably gloomy, Lost Haven day. A woman dressed all in black, trying to hide her fame behind a veil. Her celebrity not wanted on this tragic day, a single handkerchief disappears behind the veil to dab tears periodically. A nondescript elderly gentleman walks to her side, gives a hug of consolation and a kiss on the cheek – more for his own benefit than hers – before returning to his own grief. She offered him a few words, but at this point there’s no reaching him in his devastated fugue. Another old friend rests a heavy arm on his shoulder in consolation.

The man in the box should be him.

And Again

Another small crowd, one more lowering coffin and another grey skied Lost Haven day – it’s as if the sky knows. The woman is there once again, a different cut black dress, but her famous face still hidden behind a veil. The same handkerchief suffers punishment from a tearful face and running mascara. But the elderly gentleman’s disposition is barely comparable. He can’t even move. Rain falls on him, he has no umbrella and he doesn’t care. The woman approaches him at the end of the service and embraces him, her celebrity might lead to unwanted attention – it doesn’t – but all parties are beyond caring. As she holds him, he’s unable to even raise his arms to return the embrace. He’s a broken man beyond tears on this day. The woman offers him words of condolence and kisses him on the cheek. The old friend gives a hug and words he won’t remember. He won’t even be sure he heard them at the time. A middle aged man and woman stand off to the side with a man in his early 20s. They don’t approach, and it will be a while before the middle aged couple will speak to him again. The younger man wants to approach the old man but he doesn’t.

Later, when the crowd has dissipated and the press long gone as the opportunities for celebrity snapshots dried up, the elderly man drops to his knees in the mud and howls. Tears finally breaking clear. Apparently he hadn’t cried them all out in the past few days.

The boy in the box is his grandson. And once again it should be him.

A Week Ago

Dennis Connolly and Alan Coughlin stand towards the back of a small crowd gathered around a well varnished coffin. The weather is irrelevant. The woman is dressed in a third cut black dress with veil, Dennis squints and recognizes her face. He’s not terribly surprised to discover who it is. Lady Liberty, known nationally – hell internationally – for her own services years ago, and Alan walks up to her and hugs her. Dennis knows the drill, he stay in his place with his head down and hands folded across his front. His grandfather offers a few quick words to her, before returning back to Dennis’ side.

The coffin lowers, delivering Colonel Ironsides back to the earth. Goodbye old friend.

Now

Dennis lies sprawled upon his bed in boxer shorts, half covered by a swirl of sheets and blankets , deep in sleep. Dreams of danger, giant villains of his family tossing a bug-sized Dennis around like he was nothing. He bounces across the concrete, before looking up at an enormous monstrous vision of his grandfather.

“So... that’s your best effort?”

“You’re a loser, Dennis! So why don’t you kill him?”

“What? No, grampa!”

“Soy un perdedor...”

“Wait... what?”

Dennis clung to sleep. The terrifying beings of the dream fell away and were replaced by visions of beautiful women, wanting to spend time with him. Dennis was charming the pants off them, at least that’s what they assured him... before the world started to shake.

“Huh?!?” Dennis woke with a start.

Alan Coughlin was hunched outside his open bedroom window, tapping on the glass.

“You didn’t answer your phone.”

Dennis rolled over and grabbed his phone, looking at it he did indeed have a missed call.

“What is it?”

“Go look out the door. I’ll wait til you get back.”

Dennis got to his feet and crossed the floor of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes with his palms. He threw the door open and took the vista in. The city was going to hell, handbasket not included. Demons were pouring out of a portal from one corner, more grotesque devils were getting sucked up towards some flying figure in another distant place. Wide strewn devastation could be seen across the whole city, from his precariously placed home. Burning building, flipped cars, people in the street were getting devoured. People were getting devoured! Literally feasted upon by nefarious beasts of mythology. The sky was a terrible shade. If this were the End of Days he’d never received a memo.

Dennis quickly went back to his bedroom without a word.

“Is that really happening?”

“I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t. Get dressed.”

Dennis quickly pulled clothes from his drawers and started suiting up, throwing questions at his grandfather all the while.

“What caused this? How is this even happening” he asked, pulling on his top.

“A portal opened downtown. No suspects at this point. I wouldn’t worry about that either. Portal was so big. The level of energy generation for such a mystical gateway—“

“Consumed whoever made it?” Dennis pulled on a boot.

The old man nodded. “Most likely.”

Dennis stood up and checked himself.

“Look alright?”

The older man was able to muster up a stray smile, something Dennis rarely saw himself. “You look fine.” Alan passed the Golden Rod through the window. “You’ll need this.”

Alan took it. “Even with this... I’m not ready, am I?”

Alan didn’t make eye contact.

“Grampa?”

The old man looked up and returned his grandson’s gaze. “I don’t know. I don’t know if anyone is,” he said shaking his head “I don’t even know if anyone CAN be.”

“But you looked out there. You saw what’s happening. At this point, does it even matter?”

Dennis felt bad just for asking now.

“You ask me if you’re ready... I don’t know. You better be.”

Dennis realized that was as good a pep talk as he was going to get, ran out of his bedroom. Took one final look at the bedlam that the city had become and the fourth Aquilifer took flight.

The man-child soared.

It was a room filled with screens, the modern conference room. Certainly there was still the long table with padded leather seats that stretched for nearly the length of the long room, and it was likely that at times the chairs were used and the room was full of people. But at this moment only a single man occupied the room, though the likeness of several others were shown upon the screens.

"Everything here is proceeding according to plan." The voice that sounded was raspy and at least partially artificial in nature as if it was filtered through a machine, but it still held a tone that make it clear there should be no questioning or debate in response to the statement. "And the compounds near completion. The first stage should begin within two months." And yet there was a response.

A young blonde haired man in American military attire, whose rank seemed to be a general of some kind spoke back. "What of this invasion? Have all the facilities in Lost Haven escaped damage? Respectfully sir I would recommend relocation even if it requires delays. Lost Haven has become explosive." The man addressed the first speaker as a superior and appeared to have reservations about his words as they were slow and carefully spoken.

An ominously loud breath came from the man who had first spoken, a hissing and crackling breath that sounded much like the breathing of Darth Vader and other villains that had incorporated this element of a real world monster. But when the man spoke his voice was calm and collected. "Ernst, the Institute was well away from the point of emergence and there is no reason to expect the outbreak to last. If they should come, haven't you told me many times that your soldiers could defeat any threat?"

"These are not men sir."

"And neither are our soldiers." The voice still seemed perfectly calm and even as it continued to speak, changing focus from the military man, a clear sign that the concerns had been dismissed. The next man to be addressed was dressed in a suit, with blonde hair slicked over, and faded blue eyes. Though his body was young something about him made him seem much older. "Albrecht" The voice began and the man nodded. "Your silence means the task is done?"

"The arrangements have been taken care of. The board's formation will be supported. Money talks quite well after all." The man in the suit seemed equally at ease with the situation and even cracked a smile and laughed at his own comment.

"And Project Goliath?"

"In the final stages of development." Macros replied. "The first vehicle mounted variants will be ready within a month."

Again the focus shifted, this time to a third screen that showed a rather obese man with what seemed to be the standard of blonde hair and blue eyes, though his were covered by thick corrective lenses. "Dennis, I need you to direct more of your resources to Project Angel's Fall."

The obese man simply nodded without comment as the voice began again. "We."

However this time there was an interruption as the door to the conference room opened to admit a man who did not seem quite right. His musculature seemed overly exaggerated and slightly alien, as if there was something subtly wrong there. His movement was smooth, oddly so given his size and build and he wore a uniform that was primarily black in color, save for the set of six diagonal red lines emblazoned upon it. "My apologies but you wished to be told when the specimens arrived."

"Yes." the voice replied, "That is acceptable." Then to the screens and the conference, "We will resume this meeting tomorrow." And as he spoke the man with the strange voice raised his right arm with a clenched fist at the end of it. The other men, save Albrecht who instead bowed mimicked the gesture before the screens went blank.

"The specimens are waiting for you in the adjacent room Sir. I believed you would want to start immediately." The man who had entered the room spoke in response to an unasked question and received a nod in response as the Good Doctor turned to face him. Perhaps there was a smile behind the mask, but there was no way to tell and such expressions were truly rare.

"Thank you Einhardt." The voice as always sounded tortured and rasping as the man who had once been the most feared villain on earth walked from the conference room and into another chamber. Within the other chamber were a number of inhuman forms chained to metal tables. Red skin, horns, fangs, even wings, there were many features that gave away what these creatures were, demons from the swarms that had invaded the city, and they were in chains. The Good Doctor moved slowly and deliberately over to another table in the room and picked up a knife.

"This will be fun."

Christopher Arthur III
After a few seconds, Chris finally recovered from Aubrey’s punch. He did not expect it to have come as fast as it did, nor did he expect it to be as powerful as it was. Back in West Virginia, Chris easily subdued Aubrey and that other metahuman with knock-out gas. Where did all that power come from? But that was a question for another day, as Lost Haven was still under siege by extradimensional beings.

But when he saw Aubrey subdued by the plasma net that Archangel had placed upon her, Chris saw how helpless the young woman was. Were they in the right to do this? He and S.T.R.I.K.E. did round up those three metahumans in West Virginia when Chris was rescuing his sister. Was he doing all this for his sister, or was it just for himself, just as Veronica called him out prior to his departure to Lost Haven.

“You are a good man serving an honorable cause.” Chris heard Archangel. Was he serving an honorable cause? Of course he was trying to stop this demon invasion and take down that Nightmare lunatic. But did that make up for the fact that he and S.T.R.I.K.E. violated the rights of three young adults by kidnapping them, especially after the traumatic events that they had just witnessed? Chris tried not to think about it, as if he did, it might have consumed him.

“Don’t worry about identities.” Chris stated as he heard Archangel ramble on about knowing Aubrey’s identity. “S.T.R.I.K.E. already has that information when we last, um, picked her up.”

Just hinting at it made Chris uneasy. This girl was so vexed by this event that she punched a man in a full suit of armor (and a high-tech suit at that). It must have bugged her even more than it was bugging Chris, and he wasn’t the victim in that situation.

Chris needed to change the subject.

“So, we have less than 2 hours to find either Icon or that War Pulse, get to the epicenter, and close the portal, lest the whole of Lost Haven will be overrun with demonic creatures? Sounds like a plan.”

“Stay close and keep them off my back. Or you won’t get a shot even if you do solve my problem.”

From what Chris could assume from Archangel’s statement, she had obviously found one of those two metahumans. She must have some type of tracking system or something that she was using so that as a result she could find that metahuman (whoever he was) this quickly.

“Goodness, you don’t have to be so morbid about dying!”

After Archangel had flown into the sky after the metahuman she had located, Chris launched into the air, making sure to cover her approach from the fiendish monsters that had recently infested this Mainer metropolis.

“Icon. I think we should get to that portal and shut it down.” The black clad feline hero said as he struggled to his feet. One look was all it took to tell Icon that whoever this was, was out of his depth. But he also knew that the masked man wouldn’t stop fighting until this was all over.

"Are you alright?” Icon asked, genuinely concerned for his well being.

“Yeah. A little worse for wear, but I’ll live.” The other hero said.

Who are you? Icon asked.

“The name’s Lyger, but we don’t have time for formal introductions. Thousands of those things are pouring out of that portal every minute, if we don’t shut that thing down, we’ll be completely overrun.” The masked hero said, and Icon knew that he was right. Without saying another word, he took to the skies again.

As he made his way toward the epicenter of the demon invasion, he suddenly was aware that he was not alone in the sky. Aside from the numerous demons that swarmed the being who he recognized as Mercy, he was also aware of something else…something bigger.

The sound of a massive pair of wings displacing the air around them filled his ears. He risked a glance back to see another demon, this one at least three times the size of the others, closing in on him. He knew that he would have to deal with this monster before he could attempt to close the portal, so pealed off of his course and turned to face the beast. However, the demon had been closer than Icon had expected, and before he knew it, the beast was upon him.

Icon was surprised by the demon’s strength, physically, the beast was nearly as strong as he was. It was relentless, swiping its claws and gnashing its teeth as it desperately tried to strike at him. Icon grabbed a hold of the demon’s wrists and struggled to keep its claws at bay, however, the demon did something unexpected. It accelerated its speed, and drove them both toward the ground.

The ground shook from the impact of the demon driving Icon and itself into the ground. The demon, caring little for its own well being had simply hoped to vanquish the hero with its suicide dive. Though Icon lay stunned in the crater that was created from the impact, the demon had fallen short of its goal.

After a moment, Icon climbed to one knee, and looked up at the demon, who looked to be staggered as well. Then with determination, the hero rose to his feet.

”You’ll have to do better than that.” Icon said as the angered demon charged him. Icon met the attack with a roundhouse right that knocked the demon back, off its feet. The demon cried out with an angry bellowing roar as it again charged Icon. This time, Icon unleashed a massive optic blast, which incinerated the creature before it could reach the hero.

“I thought you didn’t kill.” said an unfamiliar female voice from behind.

Icon turned to face the new arrival, and to his surprise saw a rather pretty young woman wearing a trench coat, and what appeared to be a tie wrapped around her face serving as a mask. He was taken aback momentarily by the makeshift appearance of the young woman’s “costume,” however, with everything that he had seen in the last few hours, chalked it up to being just another day in Lost Haven.

"I don’t. Icon said bluntly. ”These things, whatever they are…they’re not alive.”

“What do you mean?” The young woman asked.

”They have no vitals. They might look like living creatures, but they are not alive. I don’t know what they are.” He paused for a moment. ”Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see what I can do about that portal.” He said as he again took to the sky, leaving the young woman standing alone in the street.

The media van’s wheels span before it lurched to life, and his ears seemed to burst as obnoxiously loud music filled the van, making it vibrate with bass.



Isaac winced and looked across the van, he was sharing the back with a mousey brunette who was hugging her knees and praying to herself quietly.



“Hey!” Isaac yelled into the cabin. “Turn it down!”

The driver looked at Isaac in the rear view mirror and used the lyrics to respond.



Isaac scowled and thought to himself just how bad he wanted something to hit.

The world obliged. A demon bounced off the roof of the van. The two men in the front swore. The brunette in the back screamed. The man in black smiled.



A demon clawed at the driver’s window. Scratching the glass and providing enough pressure to crack the glass as it flew, attempting to keep pace with the van. The men in the front screamed at a higher pitch than the girl in the back had. The brunette looked at the open rear door, flapping and exposing her to the night.



Loud clambering could be heard on top of the van. The men watched as the winged beast that terrorized them disappeared suddenly from view. Then they saw the mass in front of them. The driver hit the brakes. Hard.

The Vigilante tumbled across the roof of the van, flew in front of the windshield and rolled several times along the road in front of them. He got to his feet with several grunts of frustration. He scowled back at the driver before looking ahead at the swarm of demonspawn.



They charged. Isaac turned back and shot a wink through his balaklava to the van, with a wide grin. He stepped forward and met the first with a heavy uppercut.



The sound of paper tearing, as Isaac’s fist carved a deep hole across the first demon’s face. A claw reached across his torso, talons broke off just from the pressure of trying to slash the black clad hero. Two others attempted the same thing with similar results. The sounds of demons screeching in agony echoed throughout the city streets.



Isaac unleashed flurries and combinations, slicing through the pack of devils. A scowl of focus and frustration crossing his face. There was no satisfaction in fighting these ghouls. They were like fighting paper tigers. No pushback. With no resistance, no punch really felt GOOD. Still, he made short work of those he came into contact with, but the sheer numbers...



So many damn demons. And somewhere else more would be pouring through from their dark dimension with every passing second.

“ENOUGH!” He shouted.

“I don’t have time for this!”

The surrounding demons paused, trying to figure out what to make of the outburst.



“Bring me your biggest ‘tank’!” the Vigilante bellowed, thick Terrarian accent masked by his voice modulator.

Demons parted. They didn’t need to, the one who moved forward was 9 feet tall and clearly visible even with others standing in front of it.

It walked towards his diminutive opponent in the clearing, looking down at him with a fanged leer. Its huge form eclipsing the moonlight.

The two squared off for interminable seconds.



The demon moved faster than Isaac could even see, suddenly it had him by both wrists. A dark sneer across its face. Under different circumstances Isaac never would have had a chance.

But these weren’t those circumstances.

Isaac matched its wicked grin with one smacking of sadistic glee.

He quickly pulled his arms away, and the demons arms broke off from the strength of its own grip. It reared its head back and shrieked so loud it shattered the surrounding windows.

Isaac reared back and gave an open hand chop to the beast’s neck.

The demon’s head rolled along the asphalt, and the silence was deafening before the Vigilante broke it, the atmosphere palpable.

“THIS was your biggest ‘tank’...” He addressed the mob.

Isaac booted the beheaded beast emphatically between the legs to another sharp-sounding tear. As demonspawn, the beast had no genitalia, but he felt his point was illustrated adequately.

“Not enough gun.” He spat with a sneer.



“Get out. Now. All of you.”

The final ultimatum was dropped. This was their last chance. Leave and keep what passes as a demon’s life. Back to hell, or cease to exist. The threat was unmistakable.

It was a fair exchange, but there was one thing he hadn’t considered.

Hell REALLY isn’t a very pleasant place. For anybody.

With a roar, they charged.



The pack descended upon him. Isaac threw quick combos, knowing he didn’t need much power behind any punch. Demons fell limp and motionless to either side, but the Vigilante was struggling to get himself space. The sheer numbers. The weight of evil. So constricting, and with every second there was more.



Isaac fired a grapple line up and out and pulled himself out.

He swung in front of the van. A better position, for a second assault.

The demons and Isaac faced each other off for another second before the demons made their final move.



They scattered.

Apparently they’d just realized they had a third option. This mortal was only one, and cursed with the regular mortal problems of mobility and flightlessness.

Faced with a choice between destruction and deportation, they chose the third. Escape and hide.

Isaac looked down the road, to the point where the portal changed the colour of the sky. He looked down at himself, apart from some tears to his clothing and grazes from being thrown off of the van he was largely unharmed. He shot the men in the van a look.



“Can you guys get me to Ground Zero?”

The driver fired back. “Can you get US to Ground Zero?”

A smirk crossed Isaac’s face. "I think I’ll ride up top. You got any spare cables?"

The guy in the passenger seat spoke up. “This is a press van. What do you think?”

Isaac scowled at the sarcasm.

“Yes, we have cables.”

“Good. I’m gonna quickly rig it to strap myself up top. Don’t hit the brakes so damn hard next time.” He shot the driver a look, which shrank the man into his seat.

He opened the back doors and the girl in back handed him a reel of cable, smiling and brushing hair from her face.

Isaac took the cable with a smile, before firing to the men up front “And turn down the damn music!”

He didn’t need to ask a third time.

---

*Lyrics from “Turn Down For What”
Writer: Jonathan Smith and William Grigahcine
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

As time passed, War-Pulse's eyes slowly began to leave Mercy obliterating slews of demons in a mid-air fight after the third of forth wave, the endless conflict simply becoming more repetitive than interesting. However, this observation had opened his eyes to something he had not previously seen before, the direction of the incoming demon reinforcements. It was always the same direction, the majority of the demon invasion coming from the southeast. As his eyes continued to follow the demonic trail, he could sense that there was some massive fluctuation of energy in the distance, beyond his gaze like a massive fiery beacon of sorts. It was now clear to War-Pulse that what he was sensing was not some simple power surge, but instead a discharge for some kind of gateway or portal, it was the only logical conclusion with the evidence presented.

"Alright, screw this." He mumbled to himself, popping up to the ledge of the skyscraper he stood on, "As much as I like stompin' on demon faces, this has got to end."

An energy burst from his feet rocket him off into the sky, careening towards where he felt the energy surge coming from. However as soon as he began to head towards the energy fluctuations, his mind began to wander and certain thoughts began to eke into his mind. What exactly was he going to when he go to this gate? Ask the demons to politely go home? Even with all the superhumans clearly rocking these demon's faces into the pavement, they could not keep this up forever, not with the presumably trillions of souls popping out of hell. Even the freaking angel taking on the swarm would eventually be overwhelmed. He needed to come up with some kind of plan, and fast.

Of course, all this thinking means that War-Pulse was not very aware of his surroundings and failed to notice the detachment of demon warriors heading his way. With pure brute force, a demon of rather impressive size and stature flew down from the sky, slamming into War-Pulse's back talons first, causing a surprised scream from War-Pulse as he was driven into the pavement below. The momentum caused his crash landing to skid for a good hundred feet before stopping, the rift in the concrete visibly creating a mote as the demon's talons clutched into War-Pulse's head. However the creature could not stay on War-Pulse for long as it was immediately struck by a shockwave erupted from the mercenary, flipping it through the air and bouncing it off of a nearby telephone pole. It recovered quickly by digging its monstrous claws into the ground to halt its momentum.

War-Pulse rose from his crater, whirling around with ire in his eyes, an aggravated shout punctuating the sucker punch. "Alright, who's the lucky contender now!?"

However, as he turned he found himself squaring off with a demon type he had not seen yet. It was leaner, more upright then the other demons, though still roughly the size of a minivan when tucking in its wings. Clearly in hell it must have been a demon of higher regard, judging by the smoldering black armor it was adorned with. The face even looked more human, the goat eyes and sharp teeth being the only thing to keep it within its monstrous quality. The rest of the platoon came down aside this leader, also wearing the same armor with the same markings, surrounding War-Pulse in formation.

"Oh good...so I get to deal with the actual soldiers of this demon army, is that it?" War-Pulse called out, shifting around to face every demon surrounding him. "Well...bring it you oversized bats!"

The demon leader merely laughed in a reverberating, husky laugh as it pointed at War-Pulse, the rest of the demons charging him all at once, assaulting him with claw, teeth, wing and tail, attempting to simply overwhelm him with strikes. It worked at first, the mercenary only being able to hold his arms up in defense as the strikes came in,the attacks bouncing off his kinetic sheath, a blue glow highlighting every hit with sparks. However, this did not last long, the defensive position War-Pulse was holding only lasted until he could get a good shot in. And when a fist lashed out, it connected with enough impact to tear through the demon's armor like it was tissue paper. Every punch he imbued with a kinetic burst from the elbow, increasing the momentum to punch through sternums and skulls, ashing the lesser scouts on impact.

They gathered together and continued the assault, now a few of them drawing blades or debris to crush him with, they swarmed again, collapsing onto War-Pulse to smother him.

Again it proved futile, as their bodies surrounded War-Pulse's frame, a familiar blue glow came from within. In one motion, War-Pulse unleashed another powerful shockwave, reducing the demons to dust and creating another crater where he stood, his scream of fury echoing throughout the abandoned streets before drowned out by the explosion.

As the smoke began to clear, War-Pulse's body remained tense, and his gaze darted around him. The leader of this platoon was most likely not dead from that strike, and judging by his confidence, had some sort of ambush lined up for War-Pulse when the smoke cleared.

Of course, he was not predicting the ambush was simply being clubbed into the pavement by a car the demon had acquired during the confusion. Before even raising his hands War-Pulse felt the metal press into his face and push him into the ground. The demon had a firm grip on the vehicle, enough to continue the attack with repeated strikes. The car came down again and again, pushing War-Pulse further into the ground. The attack was only stopped when a blast of energy tore the car to pieces, sending the metal shrapnel scattering into the sky.

As War-Pulse tried to rise to his feet, the demon was quick to act, his mouth opening to unleash a stream of hellfire at the downed mercenary. War-Pulse's hands rose in defense, erecting a barrier between the two in a last-ditch effort to not be cooked by this supernatural foe. The two pushed and struggled, the resulting powers causing a small rush of air around them before War-Pulse managed to push his barrier hard enough to bash the demon away, who again recovered quickly and attempted to rush back to continue the assault. This time he was not quick enough, his face connecting with War-Pulse's fist in a vicious uppercut. War-Pulse did not let the demon's body fly away, however, managing to grab its tail as it was launched up to slam it back into the ground, pounding the creature's body against the pavement before hurling it into a nearby store window. He charged the beast, unleashing a flurry of strikes and blows on its chest and face before the creature was able him by the back of the neck and hurl him out of the store.

Again placed on the street, War-Pulse swiftly got to his feet to see the demon, his detestable sneer morphed into a frantic scowl, bursting back out of the store. Its body now wreathed in flame, both fists ready for another assault. To add to the tension, War-Pulse sneered right back from beneath his face mask, his hands opening up to crackle and glow with energy as he beckoned the creature to charge him. The demon responded in kind, a vicious battle cry erupting from the monster before its leathery wings flew it forward, its fist glowing with hellfire as it attempted to make a haymaker shot at War-Pulse's face.

Just the move War-Pulse was counting on. In a swift motion, War-Pulse ducked the blow, his hand coming right up to the demon's open mouth and catching its face, the whole body stopping from the powerful grip of War-Pulse. As it struggled to free itself from War-Pulse's grasp, the familiar blue charge of War-Pulse's power began to light up in the beast's mouth, the demon now looking at War-Pulse with a frantic plea of mercy.

War-Pulse's response was punctuated by a powerful explosion of energy popping out the back of the demon's skull, the body turning to cinders in War-Pulse's hands. After all, who in their right mind would offer mercy to those who are already condemned?

A brief silence followed the conflict, the dust and smoke from the battle now wafting into the already smoky air as War-Pulse walked by the now ruined grocery store. He leaned into the broken glass and crushed debris, looking into the little shop to see just what kind of things it sold. He was welcome to find it was a grocery store, fruit and meats, cereal and soda. He hopped inside and helped himself to a soda in the cooler, nobody was really around to stop him, and he needed a good beverage after fighting a massive demon like that. In his mind, a little stealing would not hurt this owner, if anything the broken glass window would be the bigger concern instead of one soda, and possibly a few missing snacks.

As soon as he ate his fill of quick energy, he hopped back out of the shop, adjusting his jacket and re-applying his face mask. "Alright, now where was I?" War-Pulse began, but as he turned, something caught his eye overhead. Originally he thought it was another demon, and he brought his hand back to hurl another stream of energy to bring it down. But this was no demon, not by the silver and teal it wore, and not by the way he flew. War-Pulse dropped his arm and sort of watched in slack-jawed awe at the man flying overhead.

Icon had finally made an appearance in all this, and he was headed straight for the portal.

Without a moment to lose, War-Pulse bounded into a clumsy take off after the hero. If anyone was going to stop this crisis, it was going to be Icon. Plus, it would be helpful to know just what kind of power he would be dealing with in the future. If he were to guess, he would assume that at some point, he and Icon would come into conflict at some point in the future, maybe teaming with him now would give the mercenary some insight into just what kind of fighter this local celebrity was.

My heart pounds in my chest as I sprint down the street toward the source of the portal. As I blast one of the monsters with a bolt of electricity, I find myself thinking about how strange life can sometimes be. I mean, you never know just what is going to happen, do you?

Just a few months ago, I was living a life that most people would kill for. I was the daughter of a multibillionaire businessman, partying whenever I wanted, doing what I wanted, when and where I wanted. I was unstoppable. I was quite the socialite in LA, living a vapid lifestyle, and it was all good. Granted, I wasn’t exactly keeping up with the Kardashians or anything like that, but I did alright for myself.

Then a freak storm hits, I get struck by this weird red lightning, and now I’m in the middle of Lost Haven fighting demons and I just met Icon. The Icon. If I weren’t so terrified, I’d be on Cloud 9 right now. Unfortunately, I’m not able to enjoy the moment on account that I am fighting for my life against the hordes of Hell at this very instant.

As I round a corner about three blocks south of Sherman Square, I see a couple of the demons tormenting a group of tourists who, by the looks of things had tried to find shelter in one of the shops that had been suddenly abandoned when the demons started making meals out of the patrons. Which begged the question: “Why the fuck would anyone vacation in Lost Haven?

Seriously.

This city is constantly under threat from some sort of nefarious menace. No sane person would ever want to live here. Let alone visit.

“Hey fangs!” I call out, having recently run out of witty one liners in the face of the apocalypse. “Over here!”

The demon turns to face me and gives a twisted smile as it begins running towards me. As if by instinct, I reach back and throw a small, baseball sized “lightning ball” at the demon, striking it in the chest. The attack staggers the thing, but does not stop it. The demon keeps coming at me, and his “friend,” no doubt distracted by my interference joins him.

At first, I’m afraid. I can’t deny that. Those creatures have been terrorizing the city for hours. They’ve killed countless people since that portal opened, and I’m afraid for my life. But that fear quickly passes as I launch another bolt of electricity right into the chest of the first demon, which then jumped from the first creature to the second, linking them in a chain of electricity which fried the creatures, leaving them smoldering husks, much like the demons that had attacked me in my office.

I ran over to the tourists who were still hiding in the shop, and was surprised by the looks of disappointment on their faces. At first I couldn’t figure out what the problem was, but then it dawned on me:

They had absolutely no idea who I was.

And I got it. In a city full of super heroes like Icon and Iron Knight, they got rescued by me. To say that I’m a D lister in my makeshift costume is a bit of a stretch. But I don’t let their lack of enthusiasm deter me.

“Stay out of sight until this is over.” I say in the most commanding voice I can muster, and then leave them standing there to ponder what had just happened as I make my way toward Sherman Square.

Once I get to my destination, which has been referred to as Lost Haven’s Times Square, I can’t believe my eyes. The Square is littered with hundreds of corpses, the sickly sweet stench of blood is heavy in the air. I have never in all my life, seen anything quite like it. And to be honest, it’s something that I never want to see again. The image of the mass carnage is instantly burnt into my mind, and I know that I will never be able to unsee what I have just seen, and that these images will haunt me forever in my dreams.

“What can I possibly do to stop this?” I ask myself, just as I see the calvary starting to arrive, in the form of what looks to be that Iron Knight guy, and some woman with him, and with their arrival my faith that we can somehow shut this thing down is starting to be restored.

Lyger raced from rooftop to rooftop as he made his way toward Sherman Square. He suspected that Icon should be well on his way to the portal, and from what Harry had told him over the com, there were others in play as well.

Good, he thought to himself. I’m not much of a match for these things on my own. Hell, I don’t think any of us are.

A sudden, otherworldly shriek filled the air stopping Lyger in his tracks. He looked behind him toward the source of the screech, just in time to see one of the winged beasts coming right at him. However, the beast wasn’t alone. Within it’s clutches was a young blonde woman, terror etched on her face.

“Not tonight.” Lyger said as the demon passed by him. He reached up and fired a grapnel line from his wrist gauntlet which found home in the demon’s wing. The demon let out a pained cry, however it didn’t alter its path. Lyger attempted to bring the demon down, however, it continued its flight undeterred, bringing him with it.

The demon tightened its grip on the young woman and arched skyward. Dangling from the grapnel line below, Lyger struggled to get in position to make the ascent up the line to the beast itself. Finally, after several long moments, he was able to press the button on his gauntlet that controlled the automatic recoil in his wrist grapnel. Once the switch was activated, Lyger slowly started climbing toward the still ascending demon.
After what seemed like an eternity, Lyger was able to reach out and grab a hold of the demon. Surprised by the sudden intrusion, the beast squealed as it began to buck and kick, trying to shake the interloper loose. However, Lyger continued to inch his way up the beast until he had managed to crawl up onto the demon’s back.

The monster roared and began to buck violently, desperately trying to get rid of its unwelcome guest. When the demon realized that Lyger would not give up, it looked at him and smiled as it released its grip on the young woman.

As the young woman suddenly began to fall, she made eye contact with Lyger. The expression on her face pleaded with him to save her, however, at the same time she seemed resigned to her fate.

“You son of a…” Lyger said as he extended his claws and buries them into the demon’s back. Then, using some momentum, pulled the demon, flipping its position so that it was now on top of him. Then he pushed off with his feet, and dived after the woman, just as the demon turned to ash behind him.

The wind was deafening as he raced toward the young woman, the extra push off he had gotten from the demon’s body giving him just enough speed to hopefully catch up to the young blonde. As they rocketed toward the Earth, the woman remained just out of reach, his fingers barely missing hers.

300 feet

Lyger extended his arms as far as he could, he felt his fingers brush against hers, but was still unable to get a grip on her.

200 feet

Finally, Lyger was able to grab a hold of her wrist. Once he had her in a firm grip, he struggled to pull her toward him.

100 feet

Lyger pulled her with all his might, bringing her up to his chest. He holds her close with one arm as he rolls over onto his back.

50 feet

40 feet

25 feet

10 feet

He fired a grapnel line from his writs gauntlet, the anchor imbedded itself into the side of a nearby building. Lyger continued to hold the girl close to him as he swung out, guiding himself and the girl just feet from the pavement, before releasing his grip from the grapnel line, landing on both feet, and bending at the knees to absorb the shock from the landing.

Lyger stood on the ground for several beats holding the girl close to his chest. Even through his uniform, he could feel her heart racing. She held him tight, almost as if she were afraid that if she let go, she would begin her descent again. Finally, Lyger pulled away from the young woman, and she looked up to meet his gaze.

“Th…thank you.” She whimpered.

“Get out of here. Get home.” He said softly as he turned and fired another grapnel line, disappearing from the girl’s view. Once he returned to the rooftops, he continued his trek toward Sherman Square, determined to put an end to this nightmare once and for all.

“Come on Addie, don’t be such a scaredy-cat.” I hear Emily’s voice from across the room as she sits on her bed and swings her legs idly. It is something she would normally say but the tone is different and less snarky than normal. But even snark free I can’t just let that go.

“I’m not a scaredy-cat. I just.” I rock back and forth on my bed, my arms wrapped around an old pillow from home, my hair a tangled blonde mess, and my face streaked from crying before. My phone sits next to me, on the freshly made covers and sheets that we had just put back on the bed earlier this afternoon. “I just can’t do it.” I know I’m being a coward in truth. But I don’t think I can take it if he picks up and turns me away now. Not after what happened to… No! I shove the images away before they can form. “What if he doesn’t want to listen? I can’t take that.”

“Addie, you left for a week after your Mom was murdered.” Emily’s voice is supportive and I can hear the concern. It helps at least a little bit. But there no good cure for pain in the heart. “He’ll understand.”

“But what if he…”

“Trust me” She cuts my worried question off before I can finish. “You’re the one in the relationship so I’m the one who gets to see without the glasses. He’s crazy about you Addie. Now pick up that phone or I’ll do it for you and pretend you’re sending drunk messages.” I see her stick out her tongue and fall back into an old tease and for a moment I laugh like I used to.

“Alright.” I finally find myself saying and I take a deep breath to compose myself before I pick up the phone. I scroll down my contacts list and with another deep breath I press the green button that says call. As the phone rings my nervousness grows but there is no answer and it goes to voicemail.

Well here it goes, I think to myself and then speak. "Hi Kyle. It's me." I pause and my nerves eat at me a bit. I had not planned to vanish like I did and I know people don't take it well. Hell I wouldn't... Focus Adeline, you need to finish the message. "I'm sorry I vanished like this. It's" My voice breaks down as a flood of emotions sweep through me. "It's my mom. She died and it wasn't normal."

My mind is filled with images of the room I had been shown. It was almost like a scene from my dreams, blood and gore streaked all over. I push it down because there is time enough for it later but my eyes have already started to leak again. "I've moved back in with Emily so if you want to come by that would be wonderful. I understand if you don't though. Hope to see you." I try to sound cheerful as I finish the message but it is hard when there is a hole inside and you are already haunted.

I look across at Emily again and she gives me a pair of thumbs up and a smile. But I don’t feel any better as I lay down and try to sleep. Maybe tonight I can have the gift of oblivion I am denied so often. But sleep does not want to come and my mind races with fevered visions and images. I feel more than see the presence by my bed as arms wrap around me in a hug.

“It’ll be okay Addie.” I hear her voice say and I finally start to relax into sleep.

Icon raced toward the portal in the heart of Sherman Square. As he looked down on the carnage that had been wrought upon the city by these creatures, he felt sick to his stomach. So much death and destruction, and for what?

The senseless loss of life filled him with a rage that he had never known before, and a new determination to end the needless suffering of the city of Lost Haven, and her people. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, or if it was even possible, but he was going to find a way to stop it.

Or die trying.

Icon noticed a flash of movement out of his periphery, and when he looked back, he saw that there was man in silver and black following behind him. Icon recognized the man from a series of news reports as the mercenary known as War-Pulse. He wouldn’t expect that someone like the mercenary would be all that interested in getting involved in something like this, after all, there isn’t any money to be made. Though, Icon figured that perhaps stopping the legions of Hell from taking over the Earth might be more of a priority than a big payday, even for someone as notorious as War-Pulse.

Maybe I don’t have to do this on my own after all. Icon thought to himself as he lowered his head and increased his speed, threatening to break the sound barrier as he raced toward the epicenter of the convergence.

As he neared the portal, Icon saw someone standing before it in Sherman Square. At first, he assumed that it was whoever was responsible for the attack on the city. However, after he got a better look, he realized that it was the same young woman that he had encountered a short time before.

He landed softly beside the woman in the makeshift costume. He looked up at the portal, then to the woman, then, he noticed that they were not alone. In the distance he could make out the armored hero Iron Knight and a woman that he didn’t recognize. He looked back to the young woman standing beside him.

”Any ideas on how to close this thing?” He asked as the others closed in on them.

It was almost surreal seeing the guy in person, let alone following him. Icon had been on the news, his legend growing over a very short period of time. His reputation for heroics and extravagant feats of superhuman strength were already fairly widespread. Hell, because of this man was War-Pulse here at all, a focal point for the supernatural incidents to follow, and so far he did not disappoint.

Of course, it was only a matter of time until Icon had turned to notice he was being followed by the mercenary, and as a sign of non-hostility, he offered the hero a brief wave. This was indeed bigger than paychecks and contracts, hell itself was spilling onto Earth, and frankly they would need every person with a hint of superhuman in them to force these things back into their flaming pits.

And all at once, the portal came into view, massive and gaping, the very fires of hell leaking out with each sulfuric burst releasing another horde of demons onto the Earth. The feeling was almost overwhelming, the mere sensation of how much energy being used caused War-Pulse's senses to nearly overload. He had never felt so much power being generated, this gateway to another dimension was outright staggering in scale purely on a consumption level. However, War-Pulse would not be felled by his senses, shutting his eyes tightly and shaking his head to resist the overwhelming sense of power drifting through the air.

It was not long until Icon descended from the sky, going to assist a woman who looked like she just threw on the most extravagant and colorful clothes she had and ran outside, War-Pulse could only assume this was another superhuman. Before War-Pulse pursued, however, he could feel another discharge from the portal, something was trying to get through. He could not put his finger on it, but he could certainly feel either another rush of demonic hordes, or something much larger.

He slammed down a good distance from Icon and the woman, taking a brisk walk to get over to them, his eyes fixed on the portal the whole time. However, his stride was stopped by a slightly moving body at his feet. He glanced down to see a wounded demon, most likely from the claw marks and ripped wing, it must have been wounded during the initial infighting. It grabbed a hold of his leg, leering up at him from the ground with a mixture of fear, hatred, and pain mixed on its grotesque features. War-Pulse could almost conclude the thing was crying out for help as much as it was trying to kill him at this point. And for a brief moment, War-Pulse understood, not all these demons were pure malevolence, after all, hell was torturing them as much as anyone else, they probably wanted out for the same reason anyone wants out of hell, hell just sucks.

The problem was, they were still unwelcome here on Earth, and War-Pulse was not about to let one go free because it was too weak to fight back. With a nonchalant sneer and an outstretched palm, an energy blast erupted into the wounded creature, reducing it to cinders it instantly.

He made his way over to the other two as if nothing had happened, taking another glance at the portal before overhearing Icon's question. Not one to let a good opportunity pass, War-Pulse laughed and said. "You tried asking them nicely to go back to hell?"

Christopher Arthur III

Whatever technology Archangel was using to track Icon’s location, it was working perfectly. While it could have been dumb luck that she guessed that the metahuman populace of Lost Haven would eventually have converged on the source of the demonic invasion, Chris believed that it was not chance. Whatever tech she was using, it goes beyond what he had. Sure, he could track people who had already been tagged with a tracking device, but locating individuals without any prior contact was a totally different beast.

Luckily it was in the hands of Archangel. If that technology would fall into the wrong hands, no one, human or metahuman, would be safe. However, Chris pushed that thought to the back of his mind, since this was obviously not the time nor place for those thoughts. There was a demon invasion going on. One problem at a time.

Once Chris and Archangel had located Icon, they both began their decent to the ground. While he was approaching the ground, Chris saw that there were a few others with Icon. There was War-Pulse, a metahuman mercenary, in whose activities S.T.R.I.K.E. had some insight. There was also a girl, who was obviously wearing a make-shift costume.

"Any ideas on how to close this thing?” Chris heard Icon ask as Chris was almost on the ground. Fortunately for all of them, Archangel had already figured out a solution. And the “bad” news that she had given to Chris was no longer “bad” news because all four of the metahumans, whom she mentioned, were now there. Considering that they only needed three of them, what could go wrong with the four of them?

“The gateway, like all energy constructs, is a delicate balance. If we can pump enough energy into it, the construct will be disrupted and fail.” Archangel responded to Icon’s question.

“What she said.” Chris tacked onto the end of Archangel’s explanation, hoping not to be outdone by his female “counterpart”.

Honestly if you were to ask me what I’m feeling right now the answer would be that I’m positively giddy. I know right? That’s hard to believe. We Shylren are emotionally stunted and live vicariously through experience after all at least until we reach adulthood. Or at least that’s what everyone likes to think. I know I’ve been looking forward to this since I knew what it was. The coddling got old so fast and it was so boring. I know it’s traditional but still it was seriously boring.

But things are going to change now. I’m finally old enough; I finally get to leave court and the world I’m to face harrowing on looks like a truly awesome one. Father even said he thinks it is one of the best worlds for harrowing to have been found in hundreds of years and he definitely doesn’t say that lightly. I remember how he towered over me then and how he burned with such power that I could feel it just standing there. But the power was never malevolent and the warmth always made me feel safe. But in that moment his fondness for me did not show on his face. Instead I think that I saw regret, though I don’t know why he would feel regret. Shouldn’t he just be thrilled for me?

“Pssh” I banish the thoughts and focus back on the present. My ship’s already been set to autopilot so I know it’ll be fine landing itself. I’ve been cooped up for far too long and it’s time to live a little. I gaze out through the view port at the luminous sphere below as the ship draws closer. It’s almost time but I have another minute or two before I can get started.

I take a minute to review. The world is called earth, dominant species are called humans, they look similar to us but I still need a guise if I want to blend in, they are not overly religious and I am unlikely to succeed in the goddess landing style, they worship at the altar of technology, there are many anomalies that can be fun to fight as part of the my harrowing. It’s not much like the worlds most of my siblings that I remember were sent too. I do kind of wish I got to be a God Empress but a world of chaos and powers should be pretty swell too.

My luminous white gold hair flares brightly at the thought of the fun that is coming, the ends swirling out around my upper body and I make my way towards the airlock as my ship starts to enter the atmosphere. I smile and then I activate it. The doors open and I jump out. I distantly notice as the doors seal shut again, and then I am falling.

I feel an intense burning as radiation buffets me and my smile grows wider. Finally something worth feeling! My speed increases and now the burning is getting stronger, I feel my skin abrading as I plummet through the atmosphere at a speed fast enough that friction from air can burn. I would laugh and cry out but the air is too thin still, and I’m not really breathing yet.

A greater heat blooms along my body and I see flashes of flame licking over me. Already my body begins to heal. It’s rare to have gotten regeneration from the first trial. Father told me this more times than I can count and my tutors were all surprised. Normally making this sort of entrance to a world is impossible, and they still advised against it. But! They aren’t the boss of me anymore so hah!

My mental cheer came with a gesture of mocking that the humans also seem to use. I stick out my tongue and immediately another flash of sensation fills me. My skin burns, my hair is mostly gone, there is barely enough air to breathe as I fall, my regeneration is starting lose the race, and it’s going to be one hell of a landing. This is truly living.

Another breath brings fire with it into me and now I scream, consumed by the experience as conscious thought leaves me. With battered eyes I see a city beginning to appear below me and my charred lips curl into another grin as my laboring body forces out a laugh. It’s going to be one hell of a landing.

Things change so rapidly as the descent draws to an end. Buildings rise up to become towers instead of flat squares, and I see humans rapidly swell from ants to well people. There are other things too that I don’t recognize though I don’t get much of a look as my breakneck fall from the sky finally reaches an end.

In the last instant before impact I remember to switch my form. It doesn’t make much difference right now but it will if I don’t wake bef--

I feel myself beginning to awaken. My consciousness rising up from the depths of sensation-less oblivion. I have survived and that sure was quite the high. Definitely the richest sensations that I have ever felt, not that I really have gotten to feel much cooped up in the palaces and at court. Most of my body is simply warm and minor pinpricks of sensation from sharp rocks and debris in the small crater that my body left in the asphalt, Who builds with asphalt anymore, it's downright primitive! but there is a more intense feeling in my left leg and I stir. I lift my head and this damp dark brown mat of hair falls in front of my face. I try to figure out where it came from before remembering that I had set my form to human as a precaution. It's so hideous compared to my normal gold and I frown internally at the human form my body decided on even as I finally turn my head to look back at my legs.

Quite a curious creature is perched on my left leg and digging claws and teeth into it. The damage is minor and quickly healing as I watch, curious about it and enjoying the sensation as I continue to gather my thoughts. It is very odd, my bestiaries of earth life did not include this creature. It is small and only about a foot tall and shaped like a human only with red skin. The hands have claws and the mouth is full of sharp teeth. As much as I don't mind the sensations I have to admit there is something sickening about another creature consuming me and I kick with my leg.

I'm not strong really, my first trial didn't give me any extra strength and neither did the fall and I haven't done anything else on my harrowing. But my kick still sent the creature flying with a squack of surprise. I see it go splat against a building and feel some satisfaction. "Eat that fugly red thing." I declare and smirk as I extricate myself from the crater. Then I notice the chattering and squacking sounds coming from around me and I glance around slowly and a smile grows wider on my face.

Perched on walls, lamp posts, signs, streetlights, parked cars, and even some corpses are hundreds of the little creatures. And as I look at them they all turn towards me and silence falls. First I let my body revert. I definitely don't need to wear a human disguise for this, and I really don't like it all that much. Then I strike a pose and gesture to the creatures. "Come and get it." I call out and laugh as the things charge towards me. Some are flying, others are hopping or scrabbling along, but they are all coming.

I kick at the first couple to reach me and send them flying, but then the tide sweeps over me and they climb up my body in a biting and clawing horde. But as they bite and claw I just tear them off one by one and revel in the feelings. Still there are a few more than I think I can handle before my regeneration will be outpaced. Even as they keep sending ripples and flashes of sensations through my body I examine myself, looking for what feels different and then smiling. I grab one of the red midgets and use its own clawed hand to slash across my throat.

I feel a hot flash and creature screams and tries to pull away from me. It is so strange that other creatures recoil from sensation instead of embracing it. But I do not let it pull away and force the claws deeper, cutting across vessels and severing key components in my throat. It's a marvelously unique sensation as you choke on your own blood but that's not the goal and as the damage reaches a threshold my body erupts with great heat and radiation emerges in a pulse.

I spit the blood from my mouth as my throat knits back together and I release the scorched remnants of the creature. Around me there is only dust and scorched bodies from the creatures. I feel triumphant, but at the same time I know that there was no trigger in that. I have not gained anything in this conflict and since I'm in harrowing it is essential that I gain things.

A loud roar of rage catches my attention and the ground beneath my feet shudders as something else draws near. It definitely seems more like it should be able to trigger a change than these crimson pygmies and rather than fleeing from the shaking I walk towards it. I know my eyes widen as I see the source of the shaking. I curse the foolish person who made the bestiaries for earth. I could understand that he'd miss something small but missing a monster like this? Clearly a case of neglect.

The thing towers over me, at least up the fourth level of windows on these strange boxy buildings that the humans seem to prefer. It has scales and a long pointed head. It almost looks like a creature from the human myths I had briefly browsed. What was that creature called again? A dra, dar, drag, drag something. Its huge eyes sweep past me to focus on the charred pygmies and then back to me as if making a connection. I simply smile and laugh as the thing opens its mouth and vomits forth fire.

I make sure to take a deep breath as the flames pour over me and draw the flame inside. I learned how invigorating that burning heat felt during the fall and I'm not about to miss it. As my skin crackles and burns and my golden hair goes up in flames I feel myself changing. The fire begins to dance around me instead of burning, and while I lament the loss of sensation I embrace the fact that I have become stronger. I thrust my arms out and the fire begins to race off of me and push against the other flames still rushing out of the creature's mouth. But while it can breath flames, I can control them and in seconds all the fire is flowing back into the thing as I seemingly can generate more myself.

The creature's eyes begin to roll with panic as it starts to bloat, but it does not flee and simply redoubles its efforts. I do not relent and continue to force fire into it until finally the great beast simply pops. An explosion of fire and charred bloody chunks of flesh erupts outwards and washes over me. And upon my face is etched a smile of triumph.

“The gateway, like all energy constructs, is a delicate balance. If we can pump enough energy into it, the construct will be disrupted and fail.” Archangel responded to Icon’s question.

“What she said.” Chris tacked onto the end of Archangel’s explanation, hoping not to be outdone by his female “counterpart”.

The new arrivals chimed in, answering Icon’s question. It sounded like a solid plan, and was more of an answer to this crisis than anything he had come up with on his own. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but it was certainly worth a shot.

”Alright.” Icon said as he turned toward the massive vortex. ”Give it everything you’ve got.” He finished, his eyes glowing red as he unleashes a powerful optic blast into the heart of the vortex, and the others joined in as well, putting every bit of power that they had into the gaping hole in reality, hoping to bring the carnage that it hat wrought to an end.

However, it seemed that the vortex had other plans. It absorbed the energy that the heroes poured into it, and it continued to spew demonic beings from its bowels.

This isn’t working. Icon thought to himself.

”Everyone, focus! We’ve got to put everything into this. We may not get another shot!” Icon said as he redoubled his efforts, even as he heard the sound of a speeding vehicle screeching to a halt.



Tires screeched as a newsvan pulled up near the nexus point, the swirling portal distorting the color of the sky. A black figure jumped clear of the roof ran onwards, turning to bark orders over his shoulder to the occupants of the van.

“Find cover!”

The man in black rushed onwards to a small congregation of people. More than people.

Overhead dark, figures still poured out from the vortex. A massive snake-like beast spewed forth, while more demons flew out with it. Beasts like nothing on earth flowed through, the problem would be bigger with every second that passed.

In the center of the unfolding scene, he saw a group of meta humans seemingly pouring everything they had into the nexus, in an attempt to finally close it. Of all the members of the group, the only one that he recognized was the familiar form of an old friend. However, this Icon was not the one that he had known and fought beside. And these were not the heroes that he had been familiar with in his world.

Something new. He hated “new”. Relying on “new” was undesirable to take the least.

“I can take the portal.” The mechanical voice was steady, unwavering. “Whatever you’ve got in mind could only take longer. Just clear a path.”

Icon, ever the voice of reason, found a better way.

“Do what you can to close it. We’ll do what we can to keep them off of you.” He said as he took off in a blue and silver to deal with the giant snake-like beast.

The rest dispersed, setting up a parameter around the vortex, looking to dispatch demons where they could, in order to protect Archangel and the man in black. as they attempted to finally close the portal. A giant silhouette screamed between the pair and the portal.

“Go set your plan up. I’ll take care of that stray demon and have it shut before you could even empty your pockets...” Isaac confidently proclaimed, running towards the figure.

He lined up his grapple gun with a bolt as he approached, the demon couldn’t see him coming and he hoped to draw its attention and get it to turn, just in time to mash its face with a cross.

Pok!

The bolt pinged off its head. The beast turned its head, roaring. Isaac lined up a heavy cross and...

Kkt.

Succeeded in doing nothing but knocking a pair of spectacles of its head.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. What kind of demon wears glasses? Apparently the kind that was considerably shorter than the other demons he’d dealt with.

The beast smiled. With a human mouth. It glared at him with human eyes. But an untold evil behind them. An evil growing within as every second passed. But maybe not fast enough.

The beast feigned a punch, and Isaac raised his left hand to block. It grabbed his left hand. Isaac tried to squirm clear. It was strong. Not as strong as the other demons he’d dealt with, but strong enough considering Isaac couldn’t dispatch it so easily. He got most of his hand clear and tried to distract the beast with a hook to the ribs.

Still no tearing. And the beast had only been toying with him. It still had him by the tip of his finger. A dark grin across his face.

“Never again will I suffer at the likes of your kind. The sun has set on your era. All bullies will meet their end at the hands of Cain the Fallen!”

Isaac didn’t have long. Even though this one seemed to have less power and less speed than the others he’d dealt with, it had more than enough of an edge on him. Time for drastic measures.

The beast started to apply pressure on the finger. Isaac reached above the beast’s head. Smaller horns were beginning to form. Isaac grabbed at one and tore it from the beast’s head. It took a lot more effort than the other demons had.

It all happened in slow motion.

Isaac tore the horn from its head with the familiar sound. The beast pulled back on his finger harder in agony. It tore from the Vigilante’s hand, but unperturbed Isaac used the horn to jam the horn into the creature’s own eye. The creature gasped and staggered back...

But not before backhanding Isaac several metres across the Square.

Isaac flew in a seated position through a stained glass window. Shattering St Francis Cathedral’s priceless artefact.

Isaac grabbed at his hand on the ground, trying to apply pressure to stem the flow of blood. His overconfidence left no-one to assist him in handling whatever this is.

“Demon... Not a demon... Still demonic, but not complete... What the hell is that thing? How?”

To his right, cowering behind a pew he received his answer.

“Wasn’t a demon. That was young Frankie Kane,” came the soft words of Father Mulcahy, “he reached out wanting help, but didn’t care for turning the other cheek as advice, I’m afraid. It turns out he’d been stealing things from here... found something else with advice he liked better.”

Mulcahy’s talent for the understatement notwithstanding, Isaac started to grasp the situation.

“He did this to himself?” Isaac gasped.

The Father nodded “He let evil into his heart. Yes.”

“Turncoat with a demon heart... right. I think I’ve got this now.” Isaac said, formulating a plan not a moment too soon.

The demon formerly known as young Frankie Kane had seen the pair, and was ominously approaching, beckoning Isaac with his own finger.

Almost as soon as War-Pulse made his comment, the group was joined by two new metahumans, or at least humans in superhuman armors. It did not take them long to survey the situation and even less time to come up with a plan. War-Pulse raised a brow at the suggestion, however, just shoot the portal with energy until it overloads? It could not be that easy, could it?

However, this momentary inkling of doubt was overridden by the much more awesome suggestion that he was about to shoot a portal to hell with energy. This whole situation just got more and more interesting for the mercenary, a real flexing of how powerful he could really be in times of crisis. Up until now it had just been no-name thugs and soldiers, scumbags and criminals that he dealt with. He could kill most people of that caliber with his pinky finger. This had been different, this was a significant challenge to his powers, for the first time in his life he felt like he was actually using his powers more intently than ever before, and right now it was just giving him an opportunity to go absolutely full-throttle.

And he would certainly give that limit a run for its money.

"Well, alright then! Let's light 'em up!" War-Pulse exclaimed, planting his feet down near Icon and extending his arms. His hands began to glow and surge with power, before long they were alight with energy before in a deafening burst came a surge of energy, rocketing into the portal with thunderous impact. Of course, like Icon, the portal just seemed to be absorbing it, barely affected by the combined efforts of the metahumans.

Undaunted, War-Pulse just angrily poured more energy into the portal, the beams from his hands expanding and increasing in mass and size, his feet actually having trouble staying planted as he fired away.

"If this doesn't work, what's plan B?" War-Pulse shouted to Icon. "Because it's starting to look like we're going to need a plan B!"

“I have never seen anything quite like the scene that has gripped the residents of Lost Haven over the last few hours. Then again, nobody has. This night, the world has been changed forever. Strange creatures, described by some as the demons from Biblical lore, have entered our city through what appears to be a rift in the very fabric of reality. There is no official body count, however, the number of civilian casualties is estimated to be in the hundreds. There won’t be an official tally for days, assuming that any of us survive this ordeal. However, there are those who are fighting for our lives, for our very souls. Not only has the National Guard been deployed to deal with the crisis, but a number of the city’s super powered populace has joined in the fight.”

“The Iron Knight, the strange, angelic figure known to some as Mercy, and Lost Haven’s own Icon, have been sighted in the area trying to stem the demonic tide. And they are not alone, having been joined by a rag tag group of unknown meta humans, who have all joined the fight. However, despite their best efforts, they have as of yet, been unable to end the onslaught. One can only hope, that together, these guardians of the city can restore order, and end the slaughter in the streets.” Micaela Pearl paused before signaling to her camera man Johnny Weiss kill the audio.

“How was that?” She asked, a smile forming on her lips. Though she was utterly distraught over the carnage that had been wrought on the city, she knew that her coverage of this terrible event would finally give her the break that she needed, and from here on out, she would be able to write her own ticket.

“It was perfect Micky.” The cameraman assured her. “This stuff is gold.” He said.

He didn’t mean to sound jaded or cold, it was just that after twenty plus years of reporting from the scene of some of the most horrific events that one could think of, Johnny Weiss had become just that. He had been desensitized to the very carnage and suffering that he had been covering. Even so, he had never seen anything quite like what he was witnessing this night.

Then something else caught his eye. At first it was simply a flicker of movement, and he dismissed it as another of the demons moving away from the portal. Then, he got a good look at the long, slithering, snake-like body of the creature that was flying directly at them, and his heart nearly stopped as a cold shiver ran down his spine.

“Oh shit.” He said. “Brody, pull up! PULL UP!” He cried to the pilot as the large basilisk headed straight for the chopper.

***

NeutralNexus said
"If this doesn't work, what's plan B? Because it's starting to look like we're going to need a plan B!"

Before Icon could respond to the mercenary, he saw a giant snake-like creature emerge from the portal. He knew that no matter what this creature was, it had to be stopped. So without saying a word, he left War-Pulse and the others to fend for themselves while he dealt with the oversized flying snake.

What next? He thought to himself as he raced after the creature, which to his surprise was deceptively fast, and it had a bit of a head start.

Icon pushed harder in an attempt to catch up to the serpent. Within moments, he had done just that. He advanced to the creature’s midsection, and tried to alter its course, to no avail. The beast was moving too fast and it was too strong as it resisted his efforts to slow it down.

It was almost as if the massive snake was honed in on something, and after a moment, he saw exactly what had gotten the creature’s attention.

”No… Icon said to himself as he spotted the news chopper in the distance. ”Don’t even think about it.” He said as he launched himself into the creature’s side in another attempt to alter its course, with little effect.

He knew that he didn’t have much time to waste. In just moments, the basilisk would be upon the chopper, and the passengers inside would be nothing more than another set of casualties of this horrific night.

Not going to happen. Icon thought to himself as he maneuvered himself onto the back of the creature’s neck. He reached down to the underside of the basilisk’s massive set of jaws and pulled up as hard as he could. The effort was enough to alter the beast’s course, causing it to just miss the chopper by mere feet.

Yes! Icon thought to himself as he accelerated in order to get ahead of the beast, then positioned himself in front of the creature. The basilisk struck out at him, its sharp, curved teeth coming just inches from his face. Icon grabbed the creature’s jaws, forcing them open. The serpent creature let out a shill cry as it struggled against Icon’s grip. However, Icon fired a sustained optic blast into the creature’s open gullet. As he intensified the attack, the creature began to slow its forward progress. After several moments, it ceased its struggle against the hero, and disintegrated into little more than ash right before the hero.

With the threat of the basilisk gone, Icon looked back toward the portal and saw that the others were in danger of being overrun by the demons. Wasting little time, he rocket away, heading back to the portal where he and the others would finally end this ordeal once and for all.