~~Hero’s Legacy: Initiation~~
Malus’ Flagship was extravagant. A huge behemoth of metal, floating through the endless abyss of space. Its twisting corridors were in pristine condition, androids roaming from room to room to clean, fix and move around cargo. It was one of the most advanced warships that Ferrum had seen even from his brief stint aboard it. Even the corridoors were briming with advanced equipment, that much he could tell from simply walking towards the bridge of the ship to meet with his employer. Many rumours had been spread about Malus since his ascension to Emperor and later his war against Vulca, all of which had been on Ferrum's mind; as intriguing as they were Ferrum preferred to meet him in person before making assumptions. He new that Malus was be wealthy, both by his position at the head of a planet and by the amount of credits he was willing to pay for this job. It was higher than any previous contract he had taken and there wasn't a force in the universe that could drag Ferrum away from it. He hoped his partner was just as eager to complete the mission as he was. Ferrum wasn't about to let some honour-bound fool get in the way because of some pointless code.

The door to the bridge opened as Ferrum approached it and he slipped inside.

As he'd expected the bridge was just as pristine as the rest of the ship. Ferrum looked around, watching as androids and scientists rushed around running tests and managing the ship's systems. A throne sat on the other side of the room, looking out large glass windows and out to the stars. Atop it was Malus, clad in blood red armor. The chair turned on its point to face Ferrum, Emperor Malus standing to approach the mercenary. Malus was an imposing figure to say the least, standing near seven feet tall and nearly as wide. Malus moved, walking over to the Cyborg Bounty hunter with a confident stride befitting a lord of his calibre.
“I was told that a bounty hunter duo would arrive and discuss the job with me, not a single man… or was I mistaken?” His voice was deep and posessed none of the Norisian twang that Ferrum had been told of.
“Yes, my partner will arrive shortly. Approximately two to seven minutes, Lord Malus,” replied Ferrum.
“Well, we will wait for his arrival then.” Malus turned around again, looking out to the stars.
"One minute, actually," added a voice, calling from the door into the bridge.

A figure stood there, tall but not quite to Malus' height. He was distinctly alien though with a flat face, great golden eyes and pale grey skin. Another addition to the already bizarre cast that flitted around the room, eager to complete their business. The figure walked towards his employer and his new companion with a long stride, his eyes locked firmly upon them. While Malus stood in his scarlet armour and Ferrum was layered in weaponry this new figure stood unarmed and unarmoured, garbed in simple but respectable grey robe which dragged at his heels. Sandals clapped against the metal floor of the ship's chamber.

He bowed his head to Malus. "I apologise for my lateness, Shi. It took longer to make myself presentable to an employer than I had anticipated. I hope this does not impede our relationship beyond repair."
"Ferrum," he continued, acknowledging the presence of his new acomplice
Ferrum looked upon his partner. "Echelon" he replied, his voice showing no more delight than his companion did.

Malus turned back around to face the contract killers, surprised to see the alien bounty hunter clothed in what he would consider to be finely made robes.

"Not at all, Echelon, you arrived just in time." Malus walked closer to both Echelon and Ferrum.
"He thinks of himself as the honorable warrior. One of the few to follow an all-important code passed down from generation to generation." Ferrum retorted, his tone purposefully mocking.
Malus stopped his pace, looking upon Echelon. "This won't get in the way of the job, will it?" His voice took a slightly more aggressive turn although it seemed more curious than anything else.
"Assuming the terms and conditions of our agreement do not change? No, it has never gotten in the way of a job before, Shi. That I can assure you," Echelon replied.

"That is why you hired me, Lord Malus" ferrum interjected. "Unlike my friend here, I don't let morality cloud the job at hand."

"And unlike some I keep to my promises," spat back Echelon.
Ferrum held back the urge to drive a spike through Echelon's rib-cage, tearing his fancy rags to shreds and hopefully slicing open a couple of vital organs. He stopped him, if only because Malus kept a firm eye on both of them. Instead he shot the warrior a deathly look, rows of sharp teeth grinding against each other.

Malus nodded to the both of them. "Good, then lets get to business" He lead them towards his own main computer, a massive device composed of several screens and panels that dwarfed any other piece of technology on the bridge.

As the Emperor got within a certain distance the screen flickered to life, responding to his presence. Various files opened and the screens were filled with pictures, videos and written reports of those Malus wanted dead. Both Echelon and Ferrum scanned them quickly, soaking up what information had been presented to them. 'Humans,' they both groaned, uttering the words under their breath. Both mercenaries had had personal experience with the species, a particularly persistent species that never seemed to know when to quit. Echelon had once dedicated seven human months to chasing one down across the Vekor cluster. They hadn't even developed out-of-system space travel yet and they were already a thorn in the side of mercenaries everywhere.

Their eyes widened as they began to realise who these videos and images focused on. Seven individuals, five human, one morphian and a single vulcan, all of which were far more than they appeared. Both mercenaries had heard of the human involvement in the War of the Molten Heart several years ago; humans with abilities that far surpassed their kin. To them, the missing pieces of Malus' request were slowly falling into place. After all, these seven had been responsible for the failure of the Emperor's invasion attempt of Vulca. Ferrum and Echelon were to be instruments of his revenge.

An assassin in red, weilding the power of lightning.
A genius, armed with technology more advanced than even the two mercenaries possessed.
An agent of the human government, enhanced with mechanics and her own frost-based abilities.
The experiment of a psychotic criminal, morphian turned to a killing machine.
An enigma of a man, living for three hundred years and cursed to be undying.

The vessel of a powerful Demon Lord, spirits of untold power.
"Even Lord Zakarr," said Echelon as the final image flashed upon the screen, the figure of a vulcan warrior

adorned in decorative armour and wielding a ceremonial staff.
"These are your targets, as is anyone associated with them - you have my permission to kill anyone or anything that tries to stop you in your task. They've halted my plans, ruined my reputation and murdered my friends and associates. I would like to see nothing more than their heads removed from their bodies. Their deaths come with a large reward, wouldn't you agree? I can imagine few who would turn down two billion credits."

The two mercenaries nodded. Ferrum was almost drooling over the idea of two billion credits, even if it had to be split in half with Echelon.

"Each," added Malus. "Do you accept this task?"
Ferrum was struggling to contain his excitement. "Yes!" he yelled, making no effort to temper his outburst.

"Excellent. I will forward all information I have to you along with a quarter of the final payment to cement the deal. I am willing to provide any and all resources and equipment you might need to complete your task. Just get it done."
"Yes, Shi. It will be done," replied Echelon, bowing to the Emperor. As the two turned and began to leave, Malus spoke once more.
"Remember. Take Him with you. You may need his support."

Ferrum nodded eagerly, looking over at his partner once more with a great grin across his face. "I told you this would be a great deal!" he cheered, a fire in his eyes not often seen. "I've never had the chance to kill a vulcan...he will bleed like everything else."

Ferrum checked his wristguards, keeping the positron blade claws from protruding out. He cackled, still smiling. "Let's get this show on the road!”

~~Mountain HQ, Outskirts of Metro Bay~~

“Are you sure they will show up? I mean, some of them are just kids, Zakarr” Blackjack asked the tall alien warrior as they waited for the initiates. Blackjack was a fairly young man in thirties, wearing a black leather jacket, with fur along the edges of the hood and a pair of tactical goggles upon his face. Zakarr looked to Blackjack.” They would be fools not to accept this invitation to change this world…do I have to remind you about Xaal’s attempted invasion?” Zakarr said with a serious tone and expression. Both of the heroes remembered what happened three years ago, a friend a fellow was killed by the hands of a very powerful and very dangerous alien lord named Xaal the Destructor, threat that even the heroes struggled to defeat.

“Zakarr…I was just giving an observation” He sighed, looking upon his young suited brother of a alien warrior.

“Are you ready, Deekus?” Blackjack asked as Deekus’ attention was drawn to him. “errrm…I suppose so, I haven’t really tried out the functions of this suit yet, but it should be interesting to see what I can do” he replied. Blackjack nodded with a smirk. “It will be interesting to see just how this team works together…could be a total disaster or a total success. Always trust Skull-Man and Hercules to come up with ridiculous ideas” he laughed to himself as Zakarr followed.

“Wh-what’s so funny?” Deekus asked in confusion.

Siren

---

Siren pressed down on the pedal, driving faster. The wind blew through her chestnut brown hair, bound by a headband and two braids that came down and formed into one. Her sunglasses complimented her boots and her boots her handbag. She was girly through and through, hardly someone that would be mistaken for a heroine of any sort and yet here she was. She tugged at her peacoat, adjusting it to a more comfortable position. Her black leggings were beginning to ride up at the calf. She grumbled knowing that would involve taking her eyes off the road and reaching into her thigh high brown boots. They resembled biker boots, various straps here and there and built thick enough to take some abuse. Around her wrists were brown leather wristbacks, one with a watch face inserted into it. It was best to make a good first impression, she would only get one after all.

She had taken to calling her "alternate identity" Siren, named after creatures who lured sailors to their deaths with the subtle art of seduction. Hers perhaps was not so delicate, at least in her mind. Most days it was more like stealing wi-fi from ones neighbor, except taking the signal from their thoughts and using it. She was nervous about the situation, more than it showed perhaps. Was it in her head or would it be evident to the others. At most she had used her powers for minor gains, but mainly to stop a few less than savory characters in their tracks. She was far from a Sith or even the dark side of anything, but enjoyed played on two of the baser instincts, fear and lust.

The mountain air was comfortable that day. She enjoyed the cooler weather admittedly. Something about the chance to bundle up in a cute coat and wear her driving gloves to keep her warm excited her. She twisted the left knob on her radio and turned up the music that was streaming from her MP5 player via a jack that connected to the cigarette lighter slot. Keeping her eyes on the road, she watched for anyone that might be friendly or foe.

The thought of bad guys played in her mind over and over, heh. Before this invitation the biggest problem in her mind was what she was going to wear to entice people. She had been out of school at fifteen years of age, being rather gifted mentally for her age, a trait that her looks often prevented others from seeing. That was a good thing perhaps, because her powers were that much easier to use on a willing target. It wasn't that she couldn't force an emotional state on someone, but brute forcing someone like that often resulted in too many possible variations. Variations were not good, at least when trying to get predictable results in order to understand your powers.

She was almost there according to the directions and butterflies were still in her stomach. She took a drink of a monster to calm her nerves. It wasn't that she couldn't be calm without it, but her focus was more on point with the stuff in her bloodstream. She glanced at her GPS. The coordinates seemed to be correct. She drove up to her destination and stopped, looking around with care. If this was a trap she had her powers set to the equivalent of an emotional breakdown, that is if they didn't have guns in their hands. Guns were bad news when someone wasn't in control and as far as she knew she was not immune to bullets.

Today was a good day the boy with the starkwhite skin said to himself as he took aim. He mouthed the words as he squeezed the trigger.“Pow.” The beam of highly intense and focused energy cut trough the targets center, like a hot knife trough butter. He smiled and aimed at the next target “Pow.” Dead center, full score, the crowd goes wild. If there was a crowd that is, there wasn't. Unlike many other heroes he did not have fanclubs, inherited riches or a big following. He didn't have a fancy earthling career or billions of dollars. He was a 'humble' Liason of the Galactic Rangers. With a rifle, that he could shoot the head of a bird with from god knows how far away. Zel hit a button and four more target plopped up “Pow!” Dead center again. “Pow!” A smoking hole in the middle “Pow!” Right between the eyes “pew!” The last shot hits off center by three inches as his com suddenly comes alive. He swears loudly in his rustic, very stoic language and look at the com.

“Shit” He stares at the sign. It reads: 'Meeting in 10 minutes' with giant red letters. He is of to a running start seconds later. He is fast, way faster then the average human, human athletes would struggle to keep up with his inhuman physiology. And currently those legs were doing work¨. It was putting the galactic daredevil on every track teams radar no doubt but he didn't have time to worry about details. He bounded over a bicycle with ease, no doub scaring the owner of said bicycle half to death before bolting over to his trusty motorcycle. He was indeed, a intergalactic cowboy on a bike. He speed off to the meeting.

His journey was somewhat event less, he parked his bike just as he saw Siren pull in and gave her a wave. The carbine was as per usual strapped onto his back.

Wind blustered through the open window of the white Ford E450 van, bringing with it the sweet scent of rain washed nature and the blossoming flowers of the spring. The vehicle was somewhat large and ungainly, an older model van mated to the large square box of what was once an electrician's mobile workshop, featuring five opening compartments per side to allow access to regularly stowed equipment. The sides of the E450 were coated in a gradient of grey, while the rear, side-swinging doors wore a fairly uniform slathering of grit and grime from the long trek it had made to be here. Behind the van, on a lightweight aluminum trailer sat a same year Grand Vitara, an older mid-size SUV, now fitted with a mild lift, more aggressive tires, a sturdy welded steel front bumper, and a roofrack that extended over the windshield slightly. The added gear was mostly in black, contrasting pleasantly with the two-tone Green and Silver paint of the off-road vehicle.

Inside the cab of the cab of the van, sat behind the wheel was Aulay Sokol, a rather stocky young man of five foot-seven, yet weighing over a hundred and ninety pounds. His thin auburn hair on the top of his head seemed to be more than compensated by the formidable beard he wore, a thick and unruly thing that was several shades of red lighter than the rest of his hair. Thick musculature braced his neck, leading to his broad shoulders and barrel chest. He wore a simple grey t-shirt that exposed his thick forearms buried under their own coat of thick hair, a pair of jeans and some well build, and long used, handmade leather boots, made of un-dyed cowhide, still soft and supple, but creased, and mottled with stains both obvious and subtle. With his left arm resting on the window ledge of the door, he steered the truck with his right, listening a mixture of folk music and rock coming from the aftermarket player.

Part of him found it odd, that just over two years ago, he had been at home in Alaska, never really used a computer, driven a vehicle, or even used many electric "things." His exposure to electricity and the modern world were through brief visits to Kenai, and when the Ranger's needed his help locating plane crashes, or lost hikers. It was to the point he was more comfortable around helicopters than he was around cars and trucks when he left home on the FBI's dime. The next two years had been a brutal crash course in "modernizing" the Alaskan Primative; from computers to cars and trucks, to cell phones and microwaves. Except the real purpose had been to train him as a marksman. Using his ability to see energy sources via the radiation they emitted, enabled him to make the shot that no other marksman could: Through blind walls where the criminal thought themselves safe. He was also trained in the means of relaying information to others, so they could be informed of a threat they couldn't see.

Then came the last mission, the fifth after his "Graduation" from the FBI school, when he was approached by two men whom he recognized as Heroes from the news reports, and the information offered by the FBI. The option was simple, join them and help a team stop more than what the FBI could, pooling his ability and training with other empowered people, or stay and make less of an impact.

It took him a week to decide, before he packed what he needed from his apartment back in Virginia, and headed for Metro City.

Lucem Lux & Manus Maleficus

Guided by the flickering candles that lined the walls of the mysterious complex, a young boy wove around corners and down stairs, leather boots clapping against the cobblestone floor with an almost skip-like beat. A seemingly endless maze of corridors, empty rooms, and mystical tricks and traps it was; a place that would stunt and potentially kill the common fool if they were not careful. Every day the path changed, walls caving in and turning into hallways or doors sealing and turning to solid stone. The boy had plenty of skill manoeuvring through it, relying on the magical threads that bound this place to guide him rather than his own eyes. Because of this, despite its current layout, the boy felt as if he knew the building like the back of his own hand. The physical state of the complex changed but the magical threads that guided him never did. It was his home after all, an entire castle almost to himself. He had to know every nook and cranny.

He himself followed the single mystical thread which led from his room, through the endless maze, and to his master’s study, a room he had never entered and had been forbidden from ever entering. It was a dangerous place, if his master’s words held true, and that he would cause more chaos by simply stepping foot inside then he ever could out of it. It was for that reason alone that the boy was almost constantly trying to find a way inside.

The boy almost slipped as a whole stairway appeared beneath him, spiralling downwards for what looked like an eternity. His stomach churned, balance briefly lost as he scrambled for something to cling on to. Throwing his arms out they latched onto the stone balustrade which sprung up before him, saving the boy a few nasty scrapes and bruises. He pushed himself up and brushed himself down, blowing a strand of loose hair from his face with a breath. With hands running along the stone supports the boy ran, bounding down a dozen steps in a single stride. Blond locks flew about as he moved, only kept out of his bright green eyes by the brass goggles which he wore.

Descending what must’ve been a dozen floors, Lucem Lux landed on firm ground with his arms outstretched, mimicking the landing of a skilled gymnast. He smiled, bowing and pulling up the goggles so that they rested on his forehead. He was met with a large wooden door, the only door on this floor it seemed. It was easily twice his height and several times as wide, lined with silver metals and decorated with fine runes and symbols. Lux rapped his knuckles against the door’s knocker, th golden face of a grostesque creature, playing a familiar tune which he whistled in unison. When he got no response, Lux knocked again. And again. And again.

Lux may or may not have done this for the next two and a half minutes, leaving only a short break between his series of rhythmic beats. He briefly contemplated the idea that the one he was looking for, his master, was in fact not behind the door. Discarding the idea quickly, Lux returned to banging his clenched fist against the door and hoping for a response.

“Yes?”

His ears pricked up to the sound. Lux turned on the spot, tugging at his jacket and fixing the fastening on his cloak before performing a quick, exaggerated salute to the man before him. He stood to attention, legs straight and chin held high with a great big grin across his face. “Apprentice Lucem Nathanus Lux, reporting for duty, sir!”

The man before him sighed, a deep breath that accompanied a tapping foot. He looked over Lux with a discerning eye as if he were not sure whether to take the boy seriously or not. Lux often claimed it was the only way Master Manus could ever look at him, a mix of confusion, disappointment, and amusement. Manus himself was no less unusual than his apprentice, however, standing at six and a half feet tall and almost completely bald beyond the tiny ponytail trailing from the back of his hair. His skin showed his true peculiarities though, snow white flesh decorated with deep black patterns, all entirely natural. A thick black cloak covered most of these features though, leaving only a pair of gleaming scarlet eyes to peer out from underneath his hood. To those trained to see magical energy, like Lux, Master Manus oozed it.

“I am ready and waiting for the trip to Primus, Master! Eager to get goin’ right away, A.S.A.P.” cheered Lux, still beaming.

There was no reaction from Manus, his quizzical look refusing to budge. After a few moments had passed, Lux’s body began to tire and he returned to a more comfortable stance, his arms falling back to his side and his eyes wandering to the painting on the wall beside him that he didn’t recognise, portraying a great mythical land of huge concrete towers and tiny motorised carriages. Manus responded by gripping his staff firmly in his hand, placing the pointed tip under Lux’s chin and using it to tilt his head up again. Lux rolled his eyes.

“And where are your things?” Manus asked.

“Why they’re right he-”

Lux never finished his sentence. He looked down to his side, arms outstretched and pointing to the side. He expected a small pool of leather bags filled with his things from clothes to sentimental items to alchemical equipment to be beside him, ready to be transported. Instead Lucem was granted by an empty space where he had thought them to be. “I left them upstairs, didn’t I?”

Manus nodded.

“You couldn’t teleport them down here for me, could y-”

“No.”

Lux groaned, muttering under his breath about how Manus was a terrible mother and that the other kids let him play outside after six o’clock. Slowly he dragged himself back up the stairs, hanging his head low and mumbling a little more with every step. A few steps up he turned his head over his shoulder, looking at Master Manus with the closest he could get to mimicking the charm of puppy-dog eyes. It failed miserably.

“Remember that this trip is hinging entirely on your good behaviour. The longer you pout the more likely I am to mysteriously forget the proper incantations to generate a portal of this magnitude. Keep it up for much longer and your room may or may not be accidentally rented out to a large family of Arlesian feral trolls. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

A pout turned to a worried, almost fearful look and the slow trod up the stone steps of the stairway turned into light taps and a rush of wind as a blond blur wove up the spiral stairs in an instant. Manus began counting in seconds, slowly working up from one. By the time he had hit six Lux was before his master, standing just as attentively as he had before. A gust of wind kicked at Manus’ own cloak from the sheer speed of Lux’s magically enhanced movements. Lux looked to his master again, this time with various satchels and cases held in his hands or slung over his shoulder in black and brown leather, some decorated with brighter colours. He was silent but his eyes stayed firmly locked upon Manus’ own, once again adopting a more innocent and vulnerable expression usually reserved for toddlers.

Manus raised his hand, a crooked finger sliding out from the long sleeves of his cloak and pointed towards the solid stone wall to his left. The demon’s lips began to move, whispering quiet words and phrases under his breath. As easily as flicking a switch, Manus snapped his fingers and the room burst into flames. Golden cinders and streams of opal fire engulfed the wall, twisting and swirling and biting the air as ferociously as any dragon. Lux watched on in amazement as shapes took form in the fires, slowly twisting into a large circular shape about twelve feet in height and width cast across the wall.

Lux knew he would never grow tired of that.

The two of them slowly made their way to the newly formed portal, carrying their things with them. Manus took the first step through, his form warping and vanishing through it in a blur of more magical energy. Lux looked over his shoulder, taking in one last glance at his old home before stepping forwards himself. He felt the fire lick at his body, a searing pain that dragged him forwards deeper into the mystical gateway. Brightly coloured lights enveloped his vision and a sharp screeching filled his ears, enough to disorient even the keenest of minds. Lux was dragged through the portal, falling from his perch on the firm stone floor and thrown into the arcane abyss.

Centurion was testing out the functions of his suit, able to create powerful force field constructs with a blue-ish hue to them. Trees stretched out as far as the eye could see, a strange mix of dark and light brown from the trunks as the leaves created an array of green shades on top. the ground underneath Centurion's feet wasn't quite muddy, but soft from a rain shower a couple of days ago, but today was as bright as it could get in the Metro Bay area, the sun high up shining its rays down through the clouds that occasionally passed by. Despite the sunny start to the day, the wind was fairly cold, enough to warrant a warm jacket or coat to be worn, but Centurion couldn't feel it. He couldn't remember much of that day on Vulka, when he discovered the suit. Being a Norisian, Deekus was Zakarr's adopted brother. He was searching around the planet, learning to hunt with Zakarr. Before he knew it he was near the crater, the suit in the middle of it. Deekus wondered near it, and before he could react, he awoke. The suit he had found was part of him, talking to him. At first it seemed strange, rather uncomfortable and scary too. Eventually he it became less so, and Deekus decided to use this suit. He was given a chance to test out his own ability and skill with the suit, especially after finding out there was a team in works back on Earth. Deekus was the first choice that came to Zakarr’s mind, and as such Deekus jumped to the chance. Ever since then he’s been eagerly excited yet slightly nervous about the whole deal. He was an alien, on a very strange world.

A portal opened nearby, both Blackjack and Zakarr glanced over, knowing who it was. “Why does he do this? For someone who takes his job seriously, he does have a taste for the dramatic.” Zakarr commented with a huff under his breath. Blackjack just sniggered watching both Manus and his young apprentice, Lux step out. Manus quickly closed the portal with a snap of his fingers. “See, Lux? Opening a portal such as this is no hard task. I expect you to study as normal. Your progress as a mage is vital. “Blackjack waved to them. “Took your time, didn’t you? You said you’d be here earlier” Manus shrugged. “I’m here aren’t I? That is all that matters.” Manus replied as he quickly glanced over the mountain area. The familiar sound of vehicles could be heard pulling up.

It wasn’t long before the other initiates had arrived. Manus took a glance at the new arrivals, his stern expression almost like a statue. He marched over to them, getting a closer look, “These are the recruits that both Hercules and Skull-Man recruited? My faith in this team has dropped lower than it was” Manus sighed. “I hope you all do your best, I truly do…best of luck to you.” Manus opened the same portal, returning to his mansion. Blackjack knew this wasn’t going to be easy, Manus’ rather upfront nature aside, Blackjack did not know much about the recruits, only their abilities from what he learned from the other heroes. “Welcome, I know that you all have been asked to join this team. This is more of an initiation than anything. You are all skilled in certain areas that will hopefully complement each other in dire situations. Well then, let’s show you the HQ you will be spending most of your time.”

Hanger Bay doors opened slowly from the side of the mountain, the roar of metal forcing itself open as if it was old. The doors showed signs of rust due to the rather varied weather of the mountain area itself. Inside the lights flicked on quickly, revealing a large industrial like base. in the center of it stood a large aircraft of an alien design, advanced and very sci-fi like to the human eye. The room was large, assortment of equipment ranging from weapons to basic utilities lined the walls above a workbench. The Headquarters for the Team was ready. The large alien warrior named Zakarr stood. “Let’s get you introduced to our operations and your new home”