Helios _________________

Aetius Cypher, president and CEO of Helios, was in his office on this fine day in Arcadia. He looked over the city, his fine city, and sighed. As he rubbed his smoothly shaven chin, he wondered what was happening down there. Wondering at the people and how their lives worked. How they could feel safe out there with the robot police force and the Freedom Fighters- the terrorists, he corrected -running loose in his country. In this world. For a brief moment, his young face showed signs of wear and age on it as he pondered. Aetius moved away from the window, shaking his head as he moved to his desk and turned on the small earpiece he was wearing, kicking his boots up on the table and relaxing with a smile. "Hey guys, is this thing on?" He would ask into the transmitter, knowing full well that he would shortly hear a response. He was of course speaking with his top agents, wondering what they were doing at this time. At present, he had sent them out to do their own work, although he knew too well that they were up to some good work. "Report in, y'know, like whenever. I'm just here. Waiting."

Tyler was leaning on his his work bench with wires and charges in hand,the room was dimly lit and it had been hours since Tyler had even thought about taking a break, he was burning hot having just smoked a bit of rock not four hours ago, the funny part was it made him fast but also extremely focused on the project at hand, right now he was wiring up a homemade thermite bomb. In the corner of the room sat three glass bottles filled with napalm and three tennis balls stuffed full of strike anywhere matches to make firebombs, and next to his dresser was a bottle of Hydrogen. That's when his com went off and he absent mindedly flipped it open to hear his bosses voice asking for everyone to report in, Tyler sighed and hooked up the last two wires to the det pack and disposable phone before radioing in, "So that purple rock you sent me...crazy stuff right there big guy...I made napalm, firebombs, Hydrogen, and just wired up a thermite bomb big enough to level a building," Tyler spoke so fast it was almost ridiculous, "But other than all that...what's up with you today man?"

Aetius would sigh yet again. Of course the addict would reply first, and informally. "Well, I was just hoping we were all being productive. At least you haven't shorted yourself on production, not sure why you don't like the military grade fireworks, but would it kill you to throw a 'sir' in there once in a while?" He would ask sarcastically.

Tyler shrugged even though he couldn't be seen, "Guess my days of proper speech are behind me...sir." Tyler sighed through the com, "The military stuff always lacks finesse, come on man even during my service days I preferred the explosives me and my buddies made over the stuff the military handed us, if my fingers put it together I know it works."

Aetius would be nodding to himself. "With that kind of logic you could, oh I don't know, be good at something and really apply yourself. Oh, wait, that's exactly why you work for me." He would reply with some amusement. "Maybe if you try a little harder to get me results instead of getting high and making explosives you'd move up a little?" His voice would be a bit muffled as he started to snack on some walnuts and sunflower seeds.

Tyler smiled, "Yeah about that I got some feedback, mind you it ain't much, but I got some whispers of a possible FF base along the coast...see sir not completely useless."

Aetius would smile to himself. "Not completely useless. Keep me posted. Anyone else ready to report?" He would ask casually, knowing that they would get to him when possible. Standing up and stretching, a knock would be heard at the door. As it would open, Aetius would smile, watching his beautiful secretary walk into the room holding some files. "Jack," she would begin, calling him by his nickname that only a few knew, "I have some reports on the new Hunter models for you to go over." He would nod to her. "Come set them on my desk and I'll happily look at them." She would do so, setting down a coffee for him as well before smiling and walking out. Jack would look into the files as he waited, pleased with the progress they reported. "Maybe we'll finally catch those bastards." He would say to himself...

The artificial human listened, as Tyler and Aetius spoke over the open communications channel. Well, not really open. But to those who had earned the right to be in Aetius circles would have full access, and be able to hear anything said. It was extended to those who had proven themselves exceptionally skilled in their particular field, or exceptionally useful in other manners. While 57 had some objections about Tyler's informality, he had to admit that Tyler was quite capable, in his own way. But 57.... he worked a bit differently. Normally, the moment Tyler had asked for reports, he would have reported instantly, but his current situation prohibited him from speaking so openly. Moving over the rooftops, he silently strode from place to place, ducking and rolling. He was capable of moving far faster than he did, but he wasn't trying to outpace his prey. While performing a routine inspection of the weapon's facilities, he had discovered that one of the workers had an unusually elevated heartbeat and breath rate, as well as having smelled perspiration. A certain amount of fear was usual, due to his reputation as a merciless killer. However, this particular quantity of fear had been sufficient for 57 to take notice, and to trail the person now. he was moving quickly, and hesitated at a turn. he was looking around, wide-eyed. He was trying to find his way, which meant he was not going home - 57 had memorized the worker roster, and this man, Bill Whites, had worked here for 4 years, and hadn't moved. This meant that he was moving to a different location, which he was nervous about, and which seemed to be tied to 57's arrival. More and more 57 decided he was suspicious of this man. Normally, he would have arrested him, and had him questioned on suspicion of terrorism with the highly advanced and highly feared interrogation devices Helios had designed. However, this man had a purpose, and 57 would trail him to this location, and hopefully discover his associates. This could allow him to out an entire terrorist cell. Of course, fighting might be required. 57's hand lightly brushed the hilt at the back of his left boot, where his spare knife was always kept. He'd be able to take down a number of enemies using simply this, even without his specialized armor. However, if they were using heavy-duty Combat Suits, or high-level metas, he would need better equipment to take care of them.

"NO! Please! I'll pay whatever you want! No! NO!" Said a man, scurrying backwards across the ground. A man pursued him, calmly walking in front of him a few feet away. He held two fingers in front of him close to his chest, he began speaking, a red glow forming around him "Globus..." the man said in a deep voice, at that a glowing circle with runic symbols in it appeared in front of him, the symbols circling the inside of the circle. "Ignis...". At that the symbols grew faster and faster yet, he struck the fingers towards the man on the ground, a ball of fire emitting from the center of the circle. The man in front of him screamed, and in a instant he was reduced to nothing but ash. "Rest in piece, my friend..." The man said. He trudged back off towards the small forest, where a man was waiting for him. "The deed is done, I presume, Magi?" The man told him. "Yes..It is..." Magi said in a grim voice. "My..pay?" "Yes, yes. Here you are. Always money with people like you...take it and go." The man told him fishing out a stack of cash bound together by a string from his coat. He held it out, Magi grabbed it without a word, placing it in a pocket on the inside of his robe. "I hope to do business with you again soon, shall I ever need someone....shall we say...gotten rid of?" The man said with a chuckle, walking off back into town. "Unlikely.." Magi muttered under his breath. Turning the opposite way walking up the road, the tip of his robe dragging along with a slight skidding sound. Of course, it was highly unlikely any of his...clients...would ever find him again. There have been a few rare instances, but to most he is simply a rumor, a myth.

Arcanus would be in his workshop, concocting a rather deadly arsenal for Helios, having made his 173rd Dreadnaught, the Panzer line of robots were designed for total control and dominance. Once he heard the conversation between Tyler and Aetius cease, he chimed in. "Sir, I have made another 23 Dreadnaughts, 134 assault bots, 214 scout bots, and 200 infantry bots. All ground units. Though, I have some ideas about the new air units that RnD and I talked about. I'm sure you'll love these new additions to your robot army." he says, his voice always modulated by his suit, and let's face it, he rarely ever left that suit, only leaving it to perform... necessary... body functions. It was heavily armed and armored, should he ever be sent out in the field, but for the most part, he relished working on adding new bots to the ranks of the robot army. Of course, he wanted to go out in the field. He wanted to test out his suit in combat for the first time, but right now, he was content to add to his ever growing collection of "pets."

Arcadia. The one place she tries not to go but has to in her line of work. She carefully melds in with the crowds on the bustling streets, her thoughts tuning into everything around her. She hears the heartbeat of a runner, tastes the taste of salt, copper, and asphalt in the air, smells the smell of car exhaust, and feels the tightness of her clothing to where she can almost feel every stitch of thread on her body. But she ignores these and stares at the place she is going. Helios Headquarters. A job waits for her there and she must take it as a favor to an old friend.

Aetius would nod to himself as he heard Arcanus speaking through his ear. "Good work as usual, doc, keep it up! Fill me in on the new ideas on the flying bots, either now or in paper, I'm good with both." After switching channels temporarily to only one agent, he would begin speaking again. "Since you seem to be busy 57 go ahead and fill me in when you can. I'll leave you to your work." He would flip back into the open channel and wait for more. As he continued to eat, he walked over to his desk and activated one of his own body double robots that he created himself. It was identical in every way, and he planned on finishing it while he waited so that he could do some fieldwork himself, maybe even with the good doc. He thought back a bit on his nickname. Jack. No one knew how funny it was to him when they called him Jack. Sitting back in his chair, he relaxed and projected his consciousness into the robot's, taking control and feeling out his other body. "Oh, man that feels good," both would say as the doppelgänger stretched its synthetic limbs. "Okay, Jack," Aetius would say, " let's give you a good feel out."

Psycho Wolf was laying down, semi-conscious, in the medical bay of the Freedom Fighter's Emerald Coast headquarters. He knows this, as he had seen the sunshine and green hills as he was carried in for treatment. Fading in and out, he was placed into the intensive care as people scurried around, his hearing nothing but a loud buzzing sound, likely due to an explosion. Wolf wasn't really sure what was going on. He remembered the Hunter units, the trees. Suddenly, sunlight, and then... Nothing. His hand was glowing, floating and caressing the air next to his bed, where he saw his best friend. She leaned heavily against his hand, her warm fur ruffled with worry.to the rest of the world, he seemed to be stroking the air with that glowing hand, and mumbling to himself incoherently. Hence, Psycho Wolf.

The clean, sterile environment of the medical bay was still unfamiliar to Vivian. Men and women groaning in stretchers, screaming and crying, covered in gauze and limbs suspended in casts and slings. It was almost too much for her to bear. As she slipped from bed to bed, stopping occasionally to check on a patient, she could only feel sorrow and pity. She pointed a finger at an unconscious patient's eye, holding his head steady with the other hand. A beam of white light emitted from her fingertip and after a quick pass over the subject's eyes to check for dilation, she moved on to the next patient. A very well-built man, this patient. Burns, disorientation and general auditory unresponsiveness were what she discerned as she called out, "Sir? Sir, are you a new patient?" She refrained from touching him directly, not one to disturb a patient who was in what looked like a pain med-induced stupor. She twisted her mouth into a grimace as she watched him stroke the air, as if there were something there. A coping mechanism? Memories of an old pet? It made her heart wrench to see someone in such a state. She set about doing as best a physical examination as she could, taking extra care around injuries and shining her light where she could. She debated transferring his wounds to alleviate some of the pain, but in her current tired state, it would only make things worse with how short-staffed they were.

Wolf noticed the woman fleetingly as she cared for him. Some of his wounds went deep, but not threatening. His body tried to heal, but he was too weak to sustain his own wounds at the time. As he continued to stroke the air, he spoke softly in a foreign language, some kind of Viking speak is what most people call it. "Ekki hafa áhyggjur, Ulfa, ég lifa. Ég geri alltaf." He sighed as he lay back more comfortably, seeing the lights pass over him and feeling the care being given. "Whatever god is truly out there, they seem to send me an angel." He would say a bit slurred. His burns prevented most movement, and he doesn't quite see who he's speaking to. But he sees the feminine shape and gentle touch. His head would sink slowly to the pillow again, his hand still stroking Ulfa and her warm fur.

The man spoke but all that Vivian could hear was an esoteric dead language. She was schooled, but not in linguistics, most times she could barely speak English passably enough to communicate. Regardless she concluded her examination and stood over his prone form, light fading from her finger as she tucked her short hair behind her ears on both sides. She breathed lightly, so as to not disturb him in his weakened state, for he really did need the rest. Then again, so did she. How many hours had she been on her feet now? Sure she could drink in some sunlight and keep on trucking for a while, but she still felt as if she'd benefit from sleep so much more. She jumped a bit as he spoke to her, bringing a warm smile and a flush of blood to her face. "Uh -- I'm sorry, sir. I'm no angel. J-just a gal." She picked at her nails out of nervous habit, before walking over to the supplies and administering a shot of painkillers and something to help fight off infection, bolster his immune system. She sat beside the bed, unaware of the other presence in the room and smiled again. She had some time to sit for a spell. "So, sir. How did you get banged up so bad? Can you speak? We get some bad injuries in here, but you seem to be a different case."

Wolf would nod a couple times before replying. "You do not know who I am. That surprises me." He felt relief flowing through him as the medication began to take effect. "I was out in the trees, I think. Some small distance from here. Hiding from sight as I knew Helios was near. Their Hunter units found me, the damned bots." His memory slowly pieced together as he spoke. "I.. Destroyed them. With an explosion. Pipe bomb. Too close. I shot out of the woods... Was taken here..." He said with some difficulty. The pain of speaking was getting too much, and so he lay back again and stared up. "I awake to see Ulfa next to my bed. And an angel tending my wounds." Wolf would sigh deeply, clutching a rib. "I am called Psycho Wolf. It is odd to meet someone who isn't as familiar with me. Surely you've heard the name?" He would say quietly. Psycho Wolf was well known for his escape from Helios, as well as his name topping the list of the most wanted. A friend to the FF, and an inconsistent member. "It's usually the silver hair and gold eyes that give me away." His deep silver hair would be covered with soot and blood, but his eyes were shining slightly with that golden light. He was hard to miss.

She clicked her tongue in her mouth a few times, looking into the distance as she tilted her head. She came back with nothing but a shake of her head and a disappointed twist of her scarred lips. "Not ringing any bells, chief. Just another patient to me, in here. So don't worry, you'll get treated right just the same as everyone else." She glanced over his form with discerningly. Pale blue, almost snow white eyes travelled over his body once more before she stood to her feet and checked his vitals, attempting to assess if his bandages would need changing. "Well I can tell you this, you're a lucky one... Wolf," The name tasted strange in her mouth, as if she were addressing an animal rather than a man, but she continued regardless, "Whenever you hear about mishaps with explosives around here, there usually isn't much of the perp to cart back home." She sighed solemnly and moved to the bed next to him, still staying within earshot. "And again, not an angel. Just a gal with sore spot for broken folks. And a big pet peeve for violence." Vivian's mouth was permeated by the scent of copper and charcoal as she moved on to a patient with some particularly bad burns covering his body, moaning in exhausted agony. She shushed him and tightened his bandages before dosing him with some morphine for the pain. With a slow spin on her heel, she spun back around to Wolf and snapped a finger. A small flash of light, like a fire cracker going off, came from her outstretched hand as she stated her name. "You can call me Martyr. Don't ask, it makes itself apparent enough as time goes along. Nice to meetcha."

Wolf would nod again. "Martyr. A fitting name for the angel that tends to wounds. Ulfa thanks you, as do I." He would sit up a bit, grunting in pain and falling back as he did so, still not quite used to being so beat up. His breathing would be heightened, and he would clutch at his stomach as the burns pained him. An almost animalistic snarl comes out of him as he speaks. "Water. I need water. And the bandages are sticking." He would growl out quickly. "Sársaukinn er of mikið!" He would revert to the easier of his languages. His body would diffuse a bright teal glow that would enshroud him, brightening the room and almost seeming to comfort him. His eyes would be illuminated, like gold disks in the dark, and his slightly sharpened canines would be visible. In essence, he would look very animalistic, a low growl emitting from him as he holds stiff.