Equilibrium heard the Meta speaking before he saw him. About one second after the image on the screen reached up to his ear, presumably for an earpiece, a flashing red alert light indicated that there was a transmission coming from the Meta. It was a simple matter for him to reach out and intercept it, and allow it to pass along, uninhibited, and listen in.

".....eras outside and one inside the building, assessing the hypothesized trajectory of where his gun is, he’s pointing it directly at you, despite not being able to get a visual.”

“What? How is that possible? And how come you didn’t tell me there was a mech out there until now?”

“I didn’t tell you because it literally just dropped down, I was about to inform you, but clearly the person driving the mech already had the pleasure of doing so.” As for how it knows you’re there...have I ever told you that you are easily detectable on a both Geiger Counters and Energy Readers?”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, you glow like a christmas tree. You’re a walking kinetic battery, it’s nearly impossible to ignore that.”

“And you never informed me before?”

“It never came up, nobody we’ve ever fought carries such devices. Plus, we aren’t usually hired for stealth missions, so there’s never been a worry for such things.”

“Pft, whatever, if someone wants to call me out, I’m sure as hell not going to disappoint. It’s about time I had another fight on my hands, I was getting bored.”

“I’d advise caution, we don’t know what this thing is capable of.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.”

The meta pushed the double doors open, and as he came out lackadaisically, Equilibrium was in the process of sending a worm to burrow into the mercenary handler's system, beginning with the communications. It was a nasty piece of code, an adaptive, and extremely damaging virus. Rather than trying to recover the intel of the opposing system, BASILISK=03r5_45.exe trampled everything else in its path, gunning straight to this... >0330_WARDEN_54.556's system. While it appeared to be a simple attack code, it was deceptively so. If anyone got a hold of the base code, it would split apart, and move even quicker to the base system, and upon reaching it, would commit suicide to literally fry the computer's hard drive.

When the Meta came out, and seemed to be genuinely impressed with the ATD, Equilibrium felt a flush of pride, and waved a hand. The one that didn't have the gun. He kept the ASM tracking the Meta's every movement, aiming towards center mass. Aiming for the head is overrated. You have so little chance to hit with a machine gun, if pointing at the skull. The torso is bigger, and easier to hit. However, this wouldn't matter, since the spread was large enough to cover an entire human being, and loaded with explosives.

"Aw, stop it you. And yes, I built my body with my own... well, with hands." Hopefully this would keep the mercenary from telling if he was human or not. It appeared that there had been alien appearances lately. Wouldn't surprise him. As the merc. circled him, Equilibrium engaged the 'Merlin' shield. Those energy ratings were off the scale. While the ATD could handle most physical energies without it, he didn't know what this guy was capable of.

He let out a barking laugh, which sounded realistically human, even through the electronic distortion. "Bah! I don't care about secret identities. It'd be better for everyone if they just came out and told everyone the truth. Not quite as stressful. Although it might be slightly hypocritical for me to not reveal my identity, so my name is Equilibrium. Your name?" He traced the Meta's movement with his gun, the projected course visible, in his synced vision, and made minute changes in his his footwork, not enough to force him to move too much.

As the Meta made that last remark, Equilibrium made a wolfish grin, in the red glow of the cockpit. Pointing his right hand at the merc, he mimed firing a gun. "This." Disconnecting the connection between this... WARDEN and the mercenary, a loud squeal of static should be the only sound coming from the earpiece now, rendering it a useless hunk of plastic and wiring. Immediately lowering his finger gun, he clenched it into a fist, and opened fire with the explosive rounds, hopefully striking the merc soundly in the chest. If he dodged, he would swing the gun around to the projected location, and fire on that place. Simultaneously charging his jump jets, he made ready to launch into the air, for whatever reason.

Icon had just finished helping the LHFD get a large fire under control and was on his way to the next when he noticed something out of the ordinary, even for a night like this. Not too far from his current position he saw what looked to be a massive brawl between two metahumans. As he focused in on the fight, he recognized one of the participants as the spider-like woman who had helped fight off a giant demon snake during D-Day. The other was the Greek themed man who he had fought several days before, the same man who’s ally had teleported him to China. From the looks of things, the spider woman wasn’t fairing very well. Icon could see the man in Greek armor not only had the upper hand in the fight, but he was utterly brutalizing the woman.

Not tonight. Icon thought to himself as he raced toward the two combatants.

Icon hadn’t forgotten the last time he had gone toe to toe with the Greek, who was capable of giving just as good as he got. Though it seemed that Icon was getting through to the man, his partner had gotten the jump on him and teleported him away, allowing the two of them to escape. Now Icon knew to be more aware, and he was ready for any surprises that the pair might throw at him.

Icon rocketed toward the Greek, who had the spider woman by the hair and was dragging her along the ground, as if he were the villain in some 80’s slasher movie. Icon barreled into the Greek with his shoulder, the impact on par with that of a speeding freight train. The Greek dropped the woman as Icon grabbed him, and punched him as he slammed the Greek into the side of a burning building, scaring the façade with the Greek’s body.

“Why is it, every time I see you, you’re attacking a woman?” Icon asked angrily as he continued punching the Greek as they flew against the building, then Icon suddenly pulled up, stopping in midair as he released the Greek, sending him crashing hard into the burnt out husk of a work van. Icon had taken his mysterious foe around the block, and back. He gently touched down beside the spider woman and glanced down at her to make sure she was okay. Then he stepped toward the wreckage of the van and stopped.

“This time, stay down.” he said, knowing that his opponent would certainly not.

I slowly opened my eyes, slightly dazed from whatever had caused me to block out. Pain permeated through my body and my ears were ringing for some strange reason. Where was I? And what the hell just happened? Last thing I remember was going to that Greek shrine and that so-called ‘Ares’ person tooting his horn about how powerful he was. But after that, everything blurred together. I gazed around the trashed building that I found myself in, eventually discovering a hole in the wall. Upon seeing it, I could feel the pain of the impact against the wall rush through my body. Well, at least I remember how I got in here.

Just outside of the hole, I could discern a man decked in a silver and blue costume. His attention was directed toward a wrecked van. Did this person throw me through the wall? No, it couldn’t have been. If my memory is serving me right, that’s Lost Haven’s most publicly known caped crusader, who was called Icon. I doubt he had a reason to toss me through a side of a building. But what was Icon focusing his attention at? There appeared to be someone crashed down in the wreckage of that van. While taking a better look at the other man, I could discern that he was wearing Greek styled armor and bearing weapons of the same style. Where have I seen this guy before?

Oh God! I remember now. That guy was the man who Ares unleashed against me. He used me like a living battering ram throughout various locations within Lost Haven. I could now feel my heart racing, my entire body shaking. I dragged myself across the floor to take refuge behind a desk that happened to escape this nightmare mostly unscathed. My arachnid legs curled up over the portion of my body that connected my human self with the spider abdomen. Even though I had no problem breathing through my mask before, now I felt like I was suffocating under it. Pulling it off, I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

Then I heard footsteps approaching me, although they came from the opposite direction of the hole that that Greek-garbed man had created while using me as the wrecking ball. Looking up, I saw a second person dressed in Greek apparel. However, this time it was Athena, the freaking person who got me in this mess in the first place.

“I can’t do this anymore.” I complained to the Greek goddess of Wisdom, ”This is way over my head. Way out of my league. I wasn’t made to be some superhero. This can’t be my destiny.” However, Athena just shook her head at me. Then she gracefully walked over towards me and knelt down beside me.

“All heroes have their trials and tribulations. What makes them heroes is not their skills or superhuman powers, but their determination to overcome the obstacles placed before them, by any means necessary. While superhumans may be born, heroes are made. Did Odysseus not faced many terrors as he strived to return home to his wife and son? Did I not help orchestra the return of the son of Laertes? What makes you think I will not give you the same aid?”

”Where the hell were you when that guy out there used me as a human battering ram? I snapped at her in response to her boastful claim of how helpful she happened to be.

“Well,” the Greek goddess of Wisdom pondered, “I was taken by surprise by Ares’ trick. I didn’t anticipate him using a separate entity to empower his champion. I didn’t want to give him any reasons to interfere. Anyways, I knew you would be fine because of your healing factor.” Considering the state that I happened to be in, I was not in the mood to listen to Athena’s ‘excuses’. There was a man outside of this building who literally just wrecked me and, if Icon had not made his timely appearance, I don’t know what would have happened.

“What the heck can I do against that guy? He has obviously proven that we are in two drastically different leagues.”

“Use strategy, of course, the one aspect of war that distinguishes myself from my half-brother, Ares, and makes me far superior to that brute. If someone is stronger than you, you cannot play to his strengths, but rather attack his weaknesses. I think we should continue with our plan, as all good plans should be able to adjust and adapt to unforeseen circumstances. I’ll go alert that metahuman, who you mortals refer to as Eikon, while you get started on your handiwork.”

“You mean Icon?”

“That what I said, Eikon,” Athena repeated, believing that we said the same name. After this short exchange about how to pronounce Icon’s name, Athena dissolved into the air, teleporting right beside Icon.

After taking a few deep breaths to calm myself, I picked myself back up, pulled my mask back over my face, and exited out a side door leading to the side of the building that was opposite of where Icon was standing. Clinging to the wall, I scaled the building and positioned myself on the roof. The alley space between this building and its neighbor seemed sufficient for my task.

First, I used my webshooters to create the first strands across the gap between the two buildings. However, after I laid down the first foundation of this web, I tried to figure out what I was supposed to do next. The last time I did this, I was in the sewers with an enclosed area, allowing me to throw up webs wherever it seemed right, which resulted in a giant cobweb. Maybe I was supposed to start at the middle next.

When I first attempted to approach the center of this webline, I quickly realized how difficult it was continue across these silk strands in a similar fashion as walking across a tightrope. Even after the first couple steps, I was already using all of my legs and arms to hold on and was hanging upside down. I still have not quite perfected walking with eight legs in a coordinated manner. Therefore, I eventually tripped up over myself, causing me to lose my focus and grip and fall to the ground. However, to my surprise, when I looked up, I saw that somehow, my single line that connected the two buildings was transformed into a ‘Y’ shaped structure with horizontal line stretched out across its top.

However, when I tried to figure out how this happened, I was a little bit disturbed, if that’s the right way to express my feelings. Somehow, my hind legs instinctively attached a strand of silk from my spider abdomen onto my webline when I fell from this first structure. Thank goodness that one metahuman who helped me in the sewers during that weird demon invasion was not here. I wouldn’t hear the end of this one.

Well, at least this was a start.

---

Once she had left Aubrey, Athena appeared at the side of the blue and silver clad hero better known as Icon. Invisible and inaudible to Polemos, Athena revealed her presence to the hero of Lost Haven.

“Don’t be afraid, Eikon.” Athena began, speaking softly to Icon, “While my attire might seem similar to this man’s garb, I am here as aid and a guide, as I have been to many heroes before you. We need you to distract this servant of Ares until our trap is ready. When the time has come, I’ll return to you so that we can spring the trap.”

Just as suddenly as she had appeared next to the blue marvel, Athena yet again disappeared from sight, teleporting away from her current position to one where she could better observe the action that was about ready to take place.

“Pulse, something’s hitting my systems, I think the mech is trying to>KSSSSHHHHKSHSKH<”

Those were the last words from Warden following Equilibrium’s finger gun, at which point War-Pulse found himself momentarily keeling over and holding his ear, wincing at the sound of howling and screeching static. He should have guessed that a man who made his own mech would have some sort of armament for cybernetic warfare. The mercenary could not pinpoint what happened to Warden per say, but he could guess that Equilibrium took him out of the fight for the remainder of this conflict.

However, there was no time to worry about the momentary loss of his info broker, as he now was being fired at by the powerful machine-gun. A quick burst erupted from his body, hurtling him away from the original array and tumbling into a ready position. However, the mech was faster than its bulky appearance let on, and before War-Pulse was able to mount a counter-attack he was met with the continued volley of the machine-gun rounds. Almost immediately he was being pushed back by the impacts, yelping in shock as the bullets puffed into him. The exploding rounds thundered off of his form as a cloud of smoke began to billow around the mercenary, body jolting back with each collision.

However, it was not the end for War-Pulse, not by a longshot. His foot crashed down, embedding itself in the tar to stop being knocked backward, his forward facing arm bringing up a kinetic barrier to take the continued fire.

Once he regained his bearings, he found himself rather pinned by the gunfire. The machine had a lock on him, and because he had misjudged the speed, he now found that he was trapped behind the kinetic barrier he had erected, as he could not get the speed to avoid being tagged again by the opponent’s targeting system.

This was only momentary, as the wheels in War-Pulse’s head already had begun to turn, the adrenaline of combat pumping through his veins as he prepared to counter this predicament.

His free hand extended from his body, kinetic force coalescing to his palm, crackling and humming as it built up in his fingers. He brought his hands together, the barrier he created suddenly humming and warping, War-Pulse’s body beginning to illuminate with a blue light, which intensified at the wrists.

“Alright, enough with the friggin’ pea-shooter, already!” He yelled out, shoving the barrier forward to convert it into a mighty wave of kinetic energy, a wide-area projectile with an explosive punchline of his own, tearing through the machine-gun fire as if they were pebbles against a brick wall.

While he had hoped this projectile would make contact, he did not have the highest hopes that it would. An experienced opponent would see an attack like this coming, and War-Pulse’s attuned sense to kinetic force meant he could feel Equilibrium’s jump jets already powering up. He did not need the blast to hit, however, he just needed Equilibrium to react to his attack for a second, just enough to force him to stop firing on his position. The ground beneath his feet was torn apart as his back let loose a kinetic burst from his back, rocketing him forward at an alarming speed. The mercenary’s movement pattern was erratic, the kinetic bursts changing his direction on a dime. With every step, craters were formed from the sheer force of his momentum changing direction, rocks and rubble kicking up as the blue glowing blur advanced towards his foe. With one final push, he launched himself forward, rocketing towards his foe with an intense velocity.

Within two seconds, he had passed the Mech’s estimated strike zone, and it was War-Pulse’s turn to deliver the offensive.

“Now let’s see how tough that tin can really is!” War-Pulse cried, Kinetic energy flared off of his elbows, sending the mercenary’s fists toward Equilibrium with an enhanced velocity. He took three shots, the first two being a right cross and a left hook at the faceplate of the mech, intending to momentarily stun it. Following his momentum, he pivoted in the air to deliver an axe kick towards the top of the mech's chassis, intending to force it back to the ground, hoping he could get the mech close enough to the ground to deliver his trademark 'War-Pulse' technique, an energy strike he had developed a long time ago.

Once he touched back to the ground, hoping that the mech was at least within range, his right arm began to crackle and sizzle, air distorting around it as he once more tried to move within the machine-gun’s firing arm once more. He had done this attack so rarely, but he had to end this battle quickly, and out of the entire energy based combat style he had developed, this one put down enemies the quickest.

Once he got within range and his footwork in place, he twisted his body to apparently gain more momentum on the strike, the crackling arm only increasing in intensity as he pulled it back, almost mounting it in the form of an open palm strike aimed at the chest of the mech. It was clear the kind of devastating power that was within this strike, the air around his arm almost entirely distorted.

“Oh, and the name? It’s War-Pulse!” Trent revealed, his other arm providing a sight to the target. “Let me show you why!”

And in that instant, War-Pulse’s body snapped the palm forward, his hips twisting to launch the palm. What resulted was a deafening palpation of pure kinetic force launched out of his palm and into the air between the two combatants, completely pulverizing the ground and rippling through the air between the combatants. This was a modified energy blast, condensed and overcharged in War-Pulse’s arm to create a much more devastating impact at close-range once released. This was clearly the ‘War-Pulse’ which Trent got his namesake from, as there was no other attack like it in War-Pulse’s repertoire. This was not the strongest one he had ever delivered, not by a longshot, but there was no doubt its power as the surrounding area also reacted to the impact, the force of the pulse tipping nearby cars and toppling telephone poles.

As the kicked up dust began to settle, the glowing warrior advanced once more on his opponent, hoping he had at least made a dent in his opponent’s armor.

“And there’s a lot more where that came from!” The mercenary called out to Equilibrium. “You’re playing with the big leagues, now!”

Racheli tossed and turned in her sleep. Her body sucked into a swirling memory that quickly became a twisted nightmare, worsened by her discomfort and sickness. Sweat drenched her skin, the apartment seriously hot as fuck and sheets sticking to her skin, entangling her with each movement. Her breathing had become labor though the door still muffle the sounds.

Oregon wildness...nineteen years ago.

Her arm had a deep gash, torn from hitting the bank too hard, as she hopped up the short stairs to the porch. The eight year's tennis shoes clipped up fast on the concrete steps, reaching the screen door in two as she pushed it open. The hinges made a loud screech and groan, her injure hand held close, while she quickly shoved her way inside. Rach had been about to make a beeline to the bathroom before a deep, husky voice stopped her in her tracks.

"What happened, baby girl?"

Biting her lip, the child's head tilted upward and looked at the man standing at the kitchen sink. Tears made her vision blurry yet she held back from crying, noting her father's concerned look. In his late thirties, his short shoulder length hair was messy and tied into a ponytail. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hands being scrubbed clean by the gritty soap bar. Finishing his hands and patting them dry, he fixed her with greenish eyes and seemed to command an answer to his question.

Rach's feet made an uncomfortable shuffle. After a few moments, she pulled her braided head toward her father while she held the wounded arm behind her."Nothing. Just a scratch, daddy."

His eyes narrowed on her shoulder where she pushed her arm from out of sight. The man sighed. Hand set the towel upon the sink edge, his body crouching down on one knee as he held out his hands for her. "Hand me your arm, Racheli. Let me look at it."

Hesitantly, the child relaxed then edged her arm from hiding behind her back and presented it to her father. He shifted on his knees then gently twisted the wound to face him. Lips pressing tightly, his eyes moved to look at her for a moment. Rach licked her lips nervously as she waited for his interrogation, trying not to flinch at the stinging in her wound.

"Go sit down at the kitchen table, Racheli. I'll get the first aid kit." Her dad said as he rose to his feet, twisting her about and patted her ass toward the chair. "Now, kiddo."

Racheli pouted but did as she was told. She plopped back into the wooden chair seat while she held her arm out, still covered in grit and dirt from her accident. Watching his figure vanish shortly, his voice hollered past the rustling, reaching over his efforts to seek the kit out. "So, honest answer, Rach. Where were you playing when you got that cut?"

"In the backyard." Racheli lied, her teeth chewing her mouth inside. Part of her knew better but she was scared to tell the truth, knowing she didn't belong playing around the creek nearby. Even if it was a twenty minutes hike from their cabin, her father wasn't fond of her playing there despite the heat being blistering hot.

"I see." He thoughtfully said, his figure now padding into the kitchen. "Then why is there sand in your wound?"

In a few moments she heard him set out the red bag, his hands quickly sorting out the gauze, medical tape, antibacterial ointment and wrap to keep the bandage protected. She hadn't looked him in the eyes though.

He had caught her in a lie, a fact she knew better, and waited to be grounded. Instead her father just moved her arm and started to dope it up. He walked over to the sink, wetting down a rag then wring out the water's excess, before moving back to the table. Wiping and patting the rag over the wound, Rach hissed in pain. She tried to jerked her arm from her father's grasp but he held it tightly. "Rach, don't move. If I don't clean this then it will get infected and we need to go to the clinic. Do you want that?"

Rach shook her head.

"Good, now please. Stay still." He asked her and started to pat the wound clean.

She had trouble trying not to wiggle out and squirm, her tennis shoes tucked hard under her chair in stubbornness. Shortly he moved on to apply a generous amount of ointment, making her flinch again. Finally he wrapped the gauze, taped it, and pulled over a wrap to protect the gauze from being shredded in her future activities.

"There. Now," he started as he rose up and began to clean the supplies up, "let that wound be a lesson that when I say not to play at the creek, you should listen to your father."

"Yes sir."

She was looking at her feet, ashamed and embarrassed when her father ruffled her head. "Go play and stay away from the creek, okay, Racheli? And never lie to me again or you're grounded."

Racheli nodded when she hopped off the chair. On the way back out the screen door, she paused long enough to hear her father's gentle voice say one last thing. "Love you, baby girl."

Racheli jerked awake.

Her breath labored and raspy, throat dry as hell, when she sat upright. Her arms propping herself up in bed and her legs shifted over to the mattress edge, pulling to the floor. Gingerly she forced herself upright, her right arm trying to balance from falling over. A few careful steps later she made it to the door and leaned onto the frame. Her body felt like it was on fire, each movement made her flinch and scream inside her already pounding head. Damn, hell was nothing like this she hissed in her thoughts.

Inhaling hard, she lowered her hand to twist open the handle. It clinked thankfully easy and popped open. Her body edged out of her room, using the wall to guide herself to the kitchen. The bathroom would've been faster, however he

Her hand on her throat, it took all her effort to remain standing and not flat out collapse. It was hazy how she managed to make it there and not throw up, her cough rattling her chest when she lifted her hand to her mouth. Something wet and stick immediately landed on her palm which she rises off into the sink, the dark reddish tainting the water while it vanished down the drain.

"Fuck..." Racheli croaked, her head leaning into the cheap, marble surface. The water left running and her hand was left under it, her only relief. "What the hell did I catch?"

She cupped some fluid in her palm and slurped it up, her skin still damp from sweating like a pig. Even opening the window in her room hadn't helped in the least, the heat escaping into the wintry night, and made the apartment's temperature dive about several degrees. She knew her room mate would bitch but she didn't give a shit because of how crappy she felt.

Muffle sounds and cries caught her attention, dampened by the thick apartment door. Someone was screaming than shouting causing Racheli to jerk off the water. Her eyes narrowed upon the source while she wobbled toward it.

All hell chose then to break loose.

Racheli had barely made it toward the door when a low sound started to rumble and cackling. It echoed through the apartment causing Racheli to pause. Her eyes narrowed and her weight shifted harder upon the counter. "What the fuck..?"

Before she could finish.. The door dropped onto the floor with a heavy thump. A thick, tall figure, cloaked in a duster stood just behind the frame. His face was covered by both doo rag over his head and his lower jaw covered by a small mask that appeared to be recreated to inhale, each breath expelling in a mechanical hiss. Built like a brick wall with thick limb, his boots stepped over the door and duck his just over 6 foot figure inside.

The dark skinned thug cracked his gloved knuckles while he turned his head to Racheli. She was hunched over and leaning against the counter edge still, struggling not to pass out.

Christopher Arthur’s enthusiasm for antiquity was not solely focused on the culture and history of ancient Greece. While the Greeks (or the Hellenes, as he preferred to call to them) were his primary focus, Chris had at least some funding in the research of other ancient civilizations. The Egyptians, the Maya, the Norse. You name it, he probably already has at least donated some money to the research of that topic and if he hasn’t, some day it will get his attention.

One such research group, led by a father-son duo, had recently stumbled upon a previously undiscovered burial tomb in the region of Upper Egypt. Before anyone in this excavation team ever set foot inside the tomb, George Zimmerman, the head Archaeologist of the group, first activated a device that Chris’ company, Knight’s Corp, developed and provided for this excavation. The device’s role was to scan and map the tomb complex without compromising the integrity of its structure. Plus, the device allowed the group to discover any booby-traps without actually stumbling onto them, preventing any injuries or deaths. Once the machine’s scanning array powered down, Doctor Zimmerman, along with his son, Jeffrey, and two other younger colleagues, descended into this Egyptian tomb, becoming the first people to step foot inside of this structure since it had been sealed so long ago.

The tomb consisted of a long corridor that stretched for several yards at a descending incline. Once at the end, the corridor forked (or rather made a ‘T” shaped crossing). Without the technology that the Knight’s Corp had furnished them with, the archaeologists would have first turned right, towards the way that had the grander entrance and more paintings and inscriptions that were plastered onto the wall. But with the scans taken from the machine, the excavation knew that this path would lead to a dead-end, probably to try to fool or deter any grave robbers.

Therefore, they journeyed down the other route, where they found the burial chamber. The sarcophagus contained in this chamber was relatively meager and unadorned in comparison to others burial grounds found in neighboring region. A few feet away from the sarcophagus was a decayed staff that was wedged into a whole in the room’s foundation. An intricate wooden adornment decorated the top of the staff. There even seemed to have been a space in this adornment for some kind of gem to be housed in it. However, it seemed that grave robbers had snatched whatever had been housed in that space a long time ago.

While Jeffrey examined the peculiar staff and his father and their sole female colleague, Sarah, took a better look at the sarcophagus and the marks that were engraved into it, the fourth and final member of the team, or at least of Doctor Zimmerman’s staff, Curtis Schmidt, decided to pear over the Hieroglyphics that covered the nearby walls.

“Professor, over here! I think I have found something.” Curtis called out, his hands pointing at a particular section of the Hieroglyphics. The other three Archaeologists turned and walked over to where their colleague stood, examining the stretch of ‘text’ that the man was pointing out.

“Let’s see here.” Sarah said as she began to decipher the Hieroglyphics, “Whosoever steps foot within this chamber and reads these words shall awaken Sethotep, servant of Set.” There was a short pause of awkward silence, as the archaeologists wondered at the translation. However, almost immediately after Sarah had read aloud her ‘translation’, George Zimmerman burst into laughter.

“I have done this job almost my entire life. Not once have I ever seen any of these Hollywood ‘mummy curses’ come true!” But unknown to the four archaeologists, the lid of the sarcophagus creaked open only an inch, revealing that something had indeed happened. Decayed fingers poked out from the crevice that was created by the casket having been opened. The fingers gripped the lid firmly and began to push it aside. Only once the sarcophagus’ lid had crashed onto the floor did the four archaeologists become aware of the situation. And a chill rushed down all of their spines.

The glow that filled her was almost enough to convince her that her emotions were actually on a human level. It had been a full day since the updated human suit had begun testing and there had been no sign of the fatal errors that had caused rapid catastrophic failure in all of her earlier tests. Archangel transferred her primary thought routines into the body, for a moment as she checked everything for the 3,503rd time. The synthetic receivers for tactile and sensory data were all fully functional, the imitated breathing, sweat, and other bodily functions were working properly as well. Her focus on the human suit was intense enough that many of her lesser subroutines went unmonitored for several milliseconds as she performed what was to be the final check.

Everything seemed to be in order though she was perplexed. The solution that the Iron Knight had provided had not been complicated, but for some reason she had not been able to conceive it herself. It was like there was a blockage that she could not investigate within her own mind. More of her unknown creator's legacy was her well educated guess. Even as she mused her subsidiary routines confirmed the location of the Iron Knight, and as her human suit took a seat before the terminal that would broadcast her image she initiated a connection.

In the workshop where the Iron Knight was working on repairs to his own suit one of the screens abruptly ceased showing information on suit schematics and changed to show the live feed from the same room that Archangel always broadcast from. "Hello Christopher." Her voice was still carefully controlled but would sound a more genuine without the additional layer of distortion she always ran as interference. "Your suggestions worked." Her human suit wore a smile as she said it.

When Chris heard Archangel's voice emanate from the computer's speakers, he looked up from his work to see a woman's face on the monitor. Leaving his assistants to work on the repairs necessary to getting his 'Daidalos' armor combat-ready, Chris walked over to computer controls to receive the transmission from Archangel.

"You don't have to be so formal, Angie. Chris is just fine." Chris wiped his forehead with a towel and set it back down on the table surface next to the computer controls. "So, what's the special occasion? Since those tweaks were designed by me, they of course were going to work." After he made his boast about his technological competence, Chris gave Archangel a coil smile that matched his pompous claims.

Archangel's own engineered smile stayed on her suit's face as Chris spoke to her and boasted. He was proud, but while pride was a flaw she would not begrudge the person who had solved her problems his pride. "I gave you a challenge Chris and you met that challenge." Her voice was hard to read as she spoke. "I'm ready to give you the reward I promised. If you want to meet me in person without the suits, we can."

"Hey, don't make this sound like I exchanged technological knowledge just for carnal rewards." Chris joked, amused by the situation at hand. While he had no idea for what those schematics were intended, Chris always has had a weakness for beautiful women, especially those who had the gift of a beautiful mind, not just that of the body. "I did that work out of the kindness of my heart. But, since you have already offered it, I'll accept anyways."

For the briefest of instants Archangel actually looked taken aback by his comment. Her mind scoured previous conversations to make sure she had not accidentally implied a desire for carnal relations or that she would give carnal rewards. Then belatedly she realized it was a joke and her human suit simulated laughter. This was going to be the difficult part. Archangel was uncertain how to proceed. She had studied human interactions in her effort to imitate them and blend in but it was different to actually need to use them here. After a few milliseconds of pondering she made a decision and spoke a reply again. "You expressed interest in meeting me. I imagine you had an idea for how you wanted to do that?"

Then there was the other thing. She had spent nearly as much time making sure it was ironclad as she had with her human suit, and over the years no one had ever questioned it, but her human 'identity' that she had used to represent herself to all the bureaucratic functions was always worrisome. Archangel had made it nearly impossible to pierce the identity, but there was always the risk, outside of electronic records it did not exist and anyone using those older records would find the discrepancies. "Also," She simulated the nervousness in her voice that she actually felt. "I have known your name, this is mine, Angela Whiting. You can still call me Angie." She smiled at the end.

"What a coincidence. Your real name matches what I already call you by. So, what about dinner? I know the perfect restaurant right here in Lost Haven. What do you say about that?" Chris turned back towards the his techs who were working on his armor while he was talking to Angela. "You guys can handle this without me, right?"

The two techs shook their heads vertically, showing that they could finish working on the Daidalos armor without Chris' supervision. However, with this said, that did not mean they wanted to work on it alone. While they were sure they could do the work correctly, the two men knew that with Chris around, nothing would go wrong. They were just looking out for his safety whenever he would go out in the field next. Was that risk worth going out on a date?

"Looks like my schedule is open. What about yours?"

For fractions of a second Archangel took stock of her own agenda. There were the independent modules that were being rushed through testing to combat Nightmare and other high level threats, the weapons upgrades, repairs to the damaged shell that had been used in the last fight against Nightmare, gearing up to mass produce the laser weaponry for S.T.R.I.K.E.'s field operative teams, and countless other checks and tasks. But none of them should preclude her primary thought routines from being occupied with a pleasant test drive of the new human suit. It would seem that she replied without any hesitation when she spoke to Chris in response saying. "I've a few things to do, but taking a break from all the work would be nice."

"You know Chris." Archangel said again a few seconds later, picking up on the unhappy responses of the men tasked with working on his suit. If you granted me unrestricted access to your systems I could easily maintain your suits as well." She left unspoken how easily she could gain access without permission. "I'd be happy to help."

“Unfortunately, my suit needs some hardware repairs. So, unless you can somehow automate that process, my engineers will have to be the ones completing the repairs. But that what I pay them for, aren’t I right, guys?” Chris turned back towards the men working on his Daidalos armor. However, the two engineers did not make eye contact, pretending that they did not hear Chris.

“See. They’re busy at work. So, at what time do you want me to pick you up? Also, where exactly do you want me to pick you up?”

‘I could do that...’ Archangel considered speaking those very words but just as quickly decided it might be too early for it. And while it would technically be automated it would be automated through her and someone might pick up on it. For another long moment, perhaps a second, she considered her options. She could easily make her way to the city herself in a stealth suit built to contain the humanoid one she currently inhabited, or she could give out the location of her home facility though the preparations to create the facade of human living quarters and resources had not yet been completed. She’d started them in the beginning and then in a display of sullen despondency after failure after failure she had abandoned the project halfway through.

Archangel made a mental note to finish that project as soon as possible and directed subsidiary units to resume the work. “I’ll be in Lost Haven on some business later today, perhaps we should meet up after that. Say Sherman Square at 4:30?” She wasn’t ready to have visitors at her home she had decided.

“I assume 4:30 post meridiem, correct?” Chris joked as he pointed out that Archangel had forgotten to designate whether it was A.M. or P.M, despite the fact that it would make zero sense to have dinner at 4:30 in the morning. “Well, I’ll see you then. In the meantime, I’ll make sure I put it on my schedule. While coming to events fashionably late could be one of my pastimes, I’ll make sure it won’t happen this time.”

Once Chris and Angela had settled on the time and place for their date, they both turned off their computer monitors, ceasing communications for the time being. Once Chris looked back toward the men working on his suit, he could tell that they were not pleased with Chris cutting out of repairing his own suit for a date with some girl he had just meet a few weeks ago.

“Hey, how many of you would turn down this opportunity? Anyways, how often does this happen?” However, when the engineers looked up at Chris, they gave him a look that almost said “are you kidding me?”. “On second thought, don’t answer that.” After he left the engineers behind to work on his suit, Chris departed from S.T.R.I.K.E. facility and headed back to his own quarters, where he would clean up so that he would actually look half-respectable on this date.

Equilibrium said nothing as the mercenary knocked aside his bullets with some sort of... force blast, after holding up some sort of invisible force barrier, that blocked the projectiles. The attack was so telegraphed, that Equilibrium didn't even have to jump into the air to dodge it. Then, the merc started hopping around, confounding any attempts to lock on. Analyzing the situation, Equilibrium took in every detail from every sensor and camera. It appeared that even if the Meta absorbed and controlled all forms of energy, he used kinetic energy for mobility and strength. If he was allowed to get closer, he would wreck him up. Equilibrium was tough, and able to fight in close combat, but someone with such powers could outclass him. Not easily, but he knew his limitations. Jumping into the air, he fired off his jump jets, intending to get some distance on the merc.

Questioning the toughness of his body, the mercenary closed the distance insanely fast, launching three of those kinetic blasts at him, aimed at his face and body armor plating. However, the 'Merlin' shield sloughed them off like water, causing the full force of the blows to fly into the Water Distribution Valve of the municipal building below. Eh. Lost Haven was used to repairing this sort of damage. While the mercenary's attacks didn't manage to force him to the ground, gravity did. The jump jets let Equilibrium crash into the ground, causing the concrete to crack, without causing any damage to the mech. The 'Merlin' shield was at 85% already, though, and they had barely started fighting. Problematic. Again, this... War-Pulse, got within Equilibrium's machine-gun range, and held a hand up to his chest, arm up to the elbow distorted by energy. Equilibrium raised his eyebrows, inside the cockpit. This couldn't be good.

As War-Pulse let loose, several auxiliary cameras burnt out from sensory overload, and several of his energy sensors shut down, and began to reboot almost immediately afterwards. Equilibrium's frame rattled, shaking the pilot inside. However, as with the earlier attacks, this one was deflected. Red lights flashed across Equilibrium's vision as almost every alarm in his suit went off, all at once. A percentage bar appeared, representing the shield's power remaining. 60%, 45%, 26%... This was not good. By the time that the energy blast was done, there was little more than 2% remaining, and the shield took forever to charge, making it almost impossible to recharge it during combat.

The blast leveled almost everything nearby, and dug a trench into the street behind him, fanning away from the mech. A thick cloud of smoke and dust covered the area, hiding Equilibrium from view. As his sensors finally rebooted, he got a good view of War-Pulse, even through the dust. Smiling, even though his shields were nearly depleted, Equilibrium knew that if he could hold out against a Meta like the mercenary, he had a good chance against others.

"The big leagues, huh? I must say, I expected to be more impressed. You're letting me down, man." With a series of mechanical noises, the HM-18 unfolded from the armored plating on his left shoulder. "Seriously. From what I heard, I expected you guys to be comparable to friggin' GODS. Oh well. Not like I'm complaining." Aiming directly at War-Pulse's chest, the laser fired, igniting some of the dust, and burning away the smoke. The laser itself would probably not do that much damage to the energy-based Meta, but the sheer force of it would most likely knock him back. A common misconception of lasers is that they don't have physical force. Well, photons are particles, and particles have mass. The beam from the Hellbeast probably had enough power to set back even Icon a bit, if Equilibrium was honest.

Keeping the HM-18 locked on War-Pulse, he observed the mercenary, waiting for a response.

Polemos groaned as he felt himself slam into a van. He'd just received the beating of a lifetime from Lost Haven's premier superhero. Chike spat a glob of blood onto the ground as he adjusted his nose. The Greek warrior pulled himself to his feet as Icon stepped towards him, garbed in cape and tights. "I will not surrender to the likes of you." Polemos muttered as he stretched his muscles. He was grateful for the brief respite offered by the blue-man. "Your city burns, hero. Yet here you are, protecting that disgusting creature instead of the citizens of Lost Haven. How utterly noble." Polemos sneered. "When I have disconnected your head from your shoulders and mounted your visage on my spear, I'll make sure the world knows how you cried and begged for your life." Polemos shot forward towards Icon, a sonic boom exploding behind him as he broke the sound barrier. The servant of Ares drew his sword and shield as the two of them collided and Polemos launched the two of them into the sky. Chike stabbed and slashed at Icon with his short sword, using his shield to block Icon's retaliations. "I am Polemos! I am WAR!" Chike cried as he kneed Icon in the stomach and bashed his shield onto the hero's back. Icon went crashing into a Burger Mart filled with cowering civilians.

The armored berserker landed inside the fast food restaurant. He barreled into Icon once more as the two titans went flying out of the building and through the streets. The Blue Marvel wailed on Polemos, drawing blood from Chike. This concerned the man inside the monster. Icon was stronger, that much was apparent. The only reason Polemos seemed to be able to match the blue marvel in combat was using his mastery of armed combat. He blocked the majority of Icon's powerful blows and energy blasts, yet the few that got through did more damage than Polemos seemed to be able to inflict on Icon. He struck with all of his strength behind his blade, Yet Chike couldn't cut the hero for the life of him. This only caused the villain to roar in anger as he tried ever harder to wound Icon. "Why don't you bleed?!" Polemos cried as fire engulfed the Greek. The green flames of Hephaestus poured over the dueling powerhouses as Polemos rage seemed to manifest itself. "Just let me kill you, damnit! Hades curse you!" Polemos needed to use a new approach. If he couldn't beat Icon physically, then he needed to play to the hero's personality. He needed to strike Icon where he would feel it most.

Chike broke off from the mid-air duel and looked for a target as he flew away from Icon. The hero was right on Polemos' tail as he searched for his target. Ah! There! Polemos slammed through the roof of a nearby night club. He looked around at the terrified people, an insane smile etched upon his dark face. "I must be quick about this. He's right behind me." Chike muttered as he flew over towards the weaklings. One of them, a young woman, whipped out a tazer and attempted to defend herself. Polemos merely laughed as he backhanded the defenseless woman. Another woman, apparently a friend of hers from the creature's unending whining, rushed to the woman's side. "Oh no you don't." Polemos grabbed the girl and she screamed. "I need your help if I'm going to kill that stupid hero." Chike wrapped his armed hand around the girl's waist as he held her in front of him, using her as a shield. Icon appeared through the ceiling. "Ah! What took you so long, hero?!" Polemos laughed as he put his sword to the girl's throat. "They're so very fragile, aren't they?" Chike whispered as he tapped the edge of his sword against the woman's throat. "I don't know why you waste your time with them. These humans...They're beneath people like us. Aren't they?" The girl struggled in the Greek's arms. Polemos whispered in her ear, his eyes never leaving Icon's. "Shhhhh. Shhhhh. It'll be over soon. Tell her, Icon. Tell her she'll be alright. Lie to her face. Tell her it's all going to be okay." Polemos stood there, smiling like a maniac.

"TELL HER!"

Eva "Mouse" Walsh

The House was quieter tonight Aunt Briley was in the Kitchen washing the dishes listening to her favorite show and Arthur was off getting ready for tonight’s training session. But little did Eva know elsewhere evil plotted..

A man walked heavily over a wood floor as he stopped at a table that had numerous wires and parts laying scattered about. “Dr. Coil. The order has been delivered Colonel Coconut sends his regards over your craftsmanship. And with the Weather Box delivered and his Shark Control band he says he’ll create a twister of unimaginable destruction in the Hawaiian Islands.

Dr. Coil stood hunched over a specialized ray gun partially completed.”Good good, with that we’re nearly at our goal. Soon we’ll be able to afford the last pieces to my Ultimate Death Ray! As soon as I finish this gun for the next customer. Dual heat and cold blasts, bah! Just keep it simple.”

“Well he pays well at least. The suit he ordered ready already.”

Dr. Coil focused entirely on the complex soldering but he gave a quick nod. The man pulled up a steel case large enough for the bulky suit.

Back at Aunt Briley’s house.. “Eva! Lights out! You better be in bed or I swear I’ll ship you off.”

Eva laid on her sheets as Arthur floated in. “You should wear bottoms. Mere undergarments won’t keep you warm at night.”

“Let’s just get started.” Eva said being short as she pulled the covers over herself, and laid back in her pillow. As she drifted off to sleep a scene was set up hand picked from one of Arthur’s memories a training yard one she had seen before as Arthur instructed her these past few months. She stood before a wooden soldier one that resembled a dummy but could walk and perform fine motor skills. It wore a bucket for a helmet and Eva took her stance raising Excalibur with both her hands.

“Watch your footing! Your feet are too close keep low and spread your knees apart for balance. To close and you’ll fall when charged.”

The dummy swung its sword with precision as Arthur yelled out. “Side step! And counter!”

Eva doged slightly to the side and prepared to strike as the dummy changed the direction on the blade throwing her off balance and flat on her ass. “What did I say about your footing!” Eva merely mumbled as she stood up and took her stance again.

Arthur circled round as Eva and the dummy came to blows watching and criticising every misstep she took. “Excalibur is a Bastard sword! You have options a sword doesn’t, but remember unlike a traditional longsword a bastard sword has a shorter grip, your small hands may allow you some extra freedom in the style of your attack but you are still limited in the way you can twist your joints.”

The dummy charged Eva bringing it’s shield down to cover its sword hand as it striked. “Parry and Riposte!” Arthur yelled out. Eva had let the dummy’s blade slide down against her sword and cut the torso of the dummy as it fell over limp. Arthur floated over and looked pleased through his ghastly visage. “It’s getting late, you’ll need to properly sleep for tomorrow. We’ll ramp up training a little two on one this time. Remember your footwork especially when dogging.”

“Next week on wednesday there’ll be a funeral for Julius, Leon and Shari will follow a few weeks after that. I need to find who did this, so their souls can rest.” Eva said as though the burden for their deaths rested solely on her shoulders.

Arthur spoke looking directly into her eyes. “In due time, rushing into things now will spell a quick death for you. The dead are just that dead, we hold little influence on the world of the living try not to let their deaths linger over you too long.”

And with that Arthur left her dream and Eva angry and impatient already as it was would soon decide to move regardless of Arthur’s blessing.

The mercenary's eyes popped wide to see the silhouette of the mech still standing behind the thick cloud of dust still settling from War-Pulse's assault. War-Pulse had felt some sort of energy radiating off of Equilibrium when the battle started, but only now did he realize what that field was, as it had deflected his strikes rather handily. Now he was paying for that oversight with a slew of taunts coming from his opponent, calling out his supposed strength and finding his potential lacking. However, there was no time to deliver a retort, as now War-Pulse was feeling some sort of energy buildup from Equilibrium, mostly in the upper shoulder area. He could not see through the fog, so he could not be sure what it was. Was there some sort of repair mechanism? Or was it some kind of weapon from the automaton?

The answer came sizzling through the smoke in a beam of light, singing through the air towards the mercenary. Given the smog, War-Pulse could not have predicted the attack nor prepared to absorb the laser’s impact, preventing any adequate defense from himself. The laser hit home, the impact thundering off of his chest and sending War-Pulse careening backwards, hurtling down the paved road into a nearby industrial building, colliding back-first through a brick wall. A deafening crash ensued as a large portion of the wall and a substantial chunk of the building crumpled around the impact, the building no longer able to support itself when the metahuman pounded through the concrete and cement.

It took a moment for War-Pulse to realize what happened, the impact being so sudden and surprising as he blinked his eyes a few times to try and get some focus on his current situation. Once he realized he was under some rubble, it took him little time to shove most of the rocks and boulders aside and return to a standing position. As he regained his bearings and the dust settled and it was clear Equilibrium again had him locked on, the now visible shoulder-mounted laser pointing directly at him and the machine moving on his position. And yet, all the mercenary could do was smile, rolling his neck and shoulders to relieve tension from the previous impact.

“Alright, looks like your rust bucket packs more of a punch than I thought. Not bad, Equilibrium.” He called back, his eyes scanning the torn apart street for an opportunity to get the edge against this mech. “I can’t say ‘god’ really fits me, though, I’ve always thought of myself as a ‘force of nature’...still, if that’s the story you got, then I’d really hate to leave you feeling underwhelmed.” His gaze locked on to a large eighteen wheeler, surprisingly untouched by the chaos. Jackpot.

"So how about we turn this up a notch!?" He shouted, quickly pointing his finger in a gun shape, a kinetic spark bursting from his fingertip towards the mech's laser cannon. He was hoping to at least cancel out the ensuing laser blast if not actually hit the laser cannon, though he surmised the energetic shield would deflect his attack regardless. All that mattered was that Equilibrium would have to react to his attacks, which resulted in less shots being taken at himself.

However, as he launched himself behind the cover of the truck, he could feel a sharp, stinging pain come in a wave across his entire body, causing him to wince as he landed, nearly crashing to the floor. The constant fighting was beginning to take its toll on his body, causing the implanted organs that process and generate his kinetic power to cramp and strain. He had expended a substantial amount of energy early into this fight, and since he had not bothered to recharge after his fight with the silver-haired girl before, his resources were beginning to run thin.

However, that would not stop him now, in fact he found the strain to be enthralling. It had been too long since he had to cut loose and actually try in a fight, let alone feel like there was a shot at actively being defeated. This was what he had been looking for when he came to Lost Haven, foes who would actively challenge him to make use of all his had learned as a mercenary, and now that he had found such a challenge, he could find nothing but exhilaration in this moment. As he spun on his heel, his hands dug into the tractor trailer of the large truck, fingers piercing through the steel as he crouched into position. With a mighty heave, the creaking metal of the vehicle made an audible shudder as it was lifted from the ground, placed into the hands of the powerful metahuman. Of course, War-Pulse had a target, and as soon as the truck was lifted, it was hurled; a mighty turn of the mercenary’s body causing the full eighteen wheeler to be spun through the air, launched with a powerful throw from the silver-clad warrior.

This was only part of the two-fold strike, with War-Pulse advancing almost as soon as the truck was sent flying through the air. At this point, it was safe to assume Equilibrium would be ready for the flying object chucked his way, either by shooting it down or moving to the side, it would not be airborne for long, which is why War-Pulse had to act quickly. As soon as the truck was halted, it changed from a projectile to a stepping stone, with War-Pulse utilizing it as a stepping stone to launch himself high into the air. Taking another substantial chunk of his power, he cocked his fist back, kinetic energy crackling around his hand as he began to descend. There was a clear, wild grin on his face, his eyes gleaming with both power and excitement as a burst sent him rocketing towards Equilibrium.

“Now, let’s see what’s under the hood here, shall we?!” He called out, dropping from the sky at an alarming rate, headed straight for Equilibrium’s current position. With a mighty cry, War-Pulse shifted the weight in his shoulders, launching his fist forward in a mighty haymaker punch to the mech’s faceplate with intent to penetrate right through it. “Time to crack this pinata!”

"Have you ever heard the term: Deus Ex Machina? I haven't been called that yet, but I know someone who has." Equilibrium waited patiently for War-Pulse to move; after all, he had the advantage here, right? "And a force of nature, huh? Makes sense, especially with those powers of yours. The forces of physics are the most primal of all." Then, War-Pulse started to move his arm, mimicking Equilibrium's earlier finger gun, shooting out a kinetic bolt towards the Hellbeast Laser. The laser fired, to be deflected and only cut into the ground, melting the concrete and asphalt into slag, and leaving the mercenary unharmed.

Folding his laser back into the armor plate, Equilibrium followed War-Pulse's form with his sensors, as he eventually stopped behind an eighteen-wheeler, presumably to form an attack strategy. Equilibrium approached warily, and aimed his Shiva machinegun. While it was proven to be ineffective, the explosive rounds could also explode the semi truck, if need be. What happened next was completely unexpected, proving that War-Pulse was deserving of the title of a 'force of nature'.

As soon as the eighteen wheeler began to fly at him, time seemed to slow down for Equilibrium. He began to process things mechanically, and seek the most viable solution.

>Situation: 18 wheeler Semi, flung by War-Pulse. Well within the lifting power of the ATD.
>Conjecture: Either catch the vehicle, or cut in half, with the DMS.
>Juxtaposition: War-Pulse is extremely erratic, so caution is advised.

Time sped up, and Equilibrium quickly popped out the DMS melee weapon from his arm compartment, and within a half a second, was at full rotation. Bracing himself, Equilibrium ducked, and held up the giant tungsten-steel chainsaw, shearing the tractor and the container both in half. The fuel tank exploded, rolling flames blasting around the mech, and eventually raising to the sky. The mech stood up, looking for War-Pulse, only to see him about to punch him in the faceplate. Equilibrium assumed that he had used the semi as a launchpad, and gravity for more momentum.

There wasn't enough time to fully dodge the attack, so Equilibrium did the next best thing. Aiming the 'Pegasus' jets, so that they would launch him up towards War-Pulse, Equilibrium took the punch square in the chest. The Merlin shield buckled for a brief second before giving out completely, energy depleted. Knocked down to the ground, Equilibrium landed on his back, hard. Cracks forming in the pavement around him, Equilibrium knew that he had to act fast, or he would get pinned down. Bursting the jump jets, he slid along the concrete, digging a trench in the concrete. As soon as he had reached a suitable distance, he would perform a feat of surprising acrobatics, a backflip, landing in a combat ready position. He needed some way to end this fight quickly, and nothing that he had on the ATD would be powerful enough.

Searching outwards with his ECM suite, Equilibrium took control of the first vehicle he could find, a news helicopter, reporting the fight. Not even thinking about the civilians within, he drove it down, directing it to fly into War-Pulse at all possible speed. Returning his attention to the mercenary, he tracked the Meta, and updated the piloting information to hit the current position of War-Pulse. Hopefully this would help end the fight, either to let Equilibrium get away, or put War-Pulse down.

Icon didn’t have time to even acknowledge the mysterious woman who had appeared at his side. The man in the Greek armor had sprung from the wreckage of the van and viciously attacked him, punching, clawing, and battering him with his sword, the Greek taunted Icon as they fought. As the battle raged, the Greek seemed to grow increasingly frustrated with his inability to injure Icon. In his frustration, the marauding Greek warrior had given Icon his name, Polemos, before declaring that he was war itself.

At this moment, Icon had a sudden realization. The mysterious woman who had appeared before him just before this Polemos character reemerged from the wrecked van had referred to this man as “the servant of Ares.” Icon knew the legends of the Greek Gods, and the possibility that not only may they have been true, but currently playing out in his city was more than disturbing.
Before he knew it, Polemos had broken off the attack and fled, crashing through the roof of a nearby nightclub. A sick feeling crept into Icon’s gut as he raced toward the nightclub, and as he entered the hole in the roof, he saw that his fears were justified. In the middle of the club, Polemos was holding a terrified young woman hostage, his sharpened blade held to her throat.

"They're so very fragile, aren't they?" Chike whispered as he tapped the edge of his sword against the woman's throat. "I don't know why you waste your time with them. These humans...They're beneath people like us. Aren't they?" The girl struggled in the Greek's arms. Polemos whispered in her ear, his eyes never leaving Icon's. "Shhhhh. Shhhhh. It'll be over soon. Tell her, Icon. Tell her she'll be alright. Lie to her face. Tell her it's all going to be okay." Polemos stood there, smiling like a maniac.

"TELL HER!"

Icon knew that he had to do something, and fast if he was going to save this young woman. He knew that he was responsible for her life, as well as the lives of all the club goers that were trapped inside with this monster. Icon knew that this could have been his club that Polemos had attacked, and that very thought filled him with rage.

”You don’t have to do this Polemos, let the woman go. I’m right here, let’s finish this, you don’t have to hurt anyone else.” Icon said trying to calm the murderous Greek.

Polemos opened his mouth to say something, and as he did so, his sword dipped slightly from the young woman’s throat. Icon fired an optic blast directly at the Greek’s hand, the sudden attack surprised Polemos, and caused him to drop his blade. Icon then moved toward the Greek, moving at such a speed that for a moment it seemed that time itself slowed down to a crawl. Icon approached Polemos, and as he moved it seemed as if everything else in the club were simply standing still, even the Greek’s weapon seemed to be suspended in mid air. As Icon got within arms’ reach of the villain, he unleashed with a hard right hand that sent Polemos flying through the air, but before he hit the ground, Icon had the warrior within his grasp and brought him through the hole in the roof that Polemos had created when he crashed into the club, and away from the frightened revelers.

“You say that you’re a warrior, that you are War?” Icon said as he rocketed away from Sherman Square. “You’re no such thing.” he continued as he flew toward Settler’s Park, a large wooded area, often referred to as Lost Haven’s Central Park, which encompassed several acres of land halfway between Sherman Square and Little Ulster. The park should be relatively deserted at this time, and that would eliminate the chances of Polemos using any more civilians as a human shield.

“You’re a coward, Polemos, and I’m going to stop you.’ He said a he rocketed himself and the Greek warrior into the ground, creating a large crater from the impact.

Polemos lay still as Icon struggled to get to his feet. After a moment, Icon stood over the Greek, who had begun to stir.

“You’re done, you aren’t going to hurt anyone else.”

Gabriel had to resort to flying to get his mind off of... everything. As it so happened, however, the flying just gave him more time to consider the failings of the evening, especially now that he could review the AEGIS footage. Riots everywhere (though, to be fair, that part wasn't actually his fault), Krimson had gotten away, he'd caused thousands in property damage for basically nothing, and Maverick... well. The less he thought about how that conversation had gone, the better. He sighed, scanning through the AEGIS system, trying to find someplace where he could put his talents to good use. Come on. Give me someplace where I can actually do some good tonight. Make me believe this night wasn't a total failure...

Luckily, he didn't have to look long. A signal was tripped in Sherman Square, not far from where he was. Convenient. Again. Let's just hope it's not as "convenient" as last time. He pulled up footage from an AEGIS drone in the area.

"Daedalus, scan the buildings. Thermal, x-ray, phase, all of it- what tripped us?"

"phase signature, sir. we have meta activity in one of the buildings... here." The footage switched to thermal, zooming in on the source of the phase signature in question. Two bodies, one much larger than the other, stood facing each other. "the larger signal is the source of the phase signature. it's difficult to identify meta abilities from this distance, but i would assume modified strength and durability, at minimum. do be careful if you plan on fighting in close quarters."

"Thanks, Daedalus. I can take it from here." He turned on the speed, then, zooming toward the source of the signal, planning his mode of ingress. He couldn't just smash through a wall, and trying to get in through the front door would take too long. Thankfully, something caught his eye as he approached the outside of the apartment in question. A window was open. He smiled, and made a beeline for the open window, smoothly gliding inside, before turning toward the signal in question.

Yep. That guy is certainly big. And a meta. Not a good combination in most cases. He landed gently, then, casual as can be, strolled out of the room, drawing the large man's attention (and probably the girl's, too). He waved brightly before speaking.

"I know this is rather hypocritical of me to say, but you really shouldn't be here, sir. Leave. Now."

Configure: Hex-Feather Modules- SNIPER.

The Hex-Feathers floated into a tight formation over his shoulders, all trained on the large man, glowing ominously as though to punctuate Gabriel's suggestion.

“Are you getting this Dennis? Keep the camera on them!”

Sarah Winslow, an up-and-coming news reporter for Lost Haven Channel 12, was busy fixing her hair for her next “eye in the sky” report in the team’s news chopper. Accompanying her was Dennis Mackey, an experienced cameraman grumbling at his new co-worker barking orders at him as if he were some novice, turning the lens to focus in on the two superpowered combatants below. At the helm of the whirlibird was a man named Thomas, a veteran helicopter pilot, who was adeptly circling the area despite the chaos ensuing below, not a care in the world for the old man.

“I got it, I got it.” Dennis huffed, leaning out of the helicopter to keep the action plastered on the metas. “Can you believe this? Second attack on the city in a few months, what kind of crazy shit is that?”

“Yes, yes, it's simply awful, but what a scoop!” Sarah replied, sitting beside Dennis while redoing her makeup, smearing numerous powders and mascara onto her face, “I can’t believe how much press we’re getting.”

“Yeah, it’s not like everyone gets a career off of the city being destroyed.” Grumbled Dennis.

“Oh, hush, there is nothing we can do about it. The best we can do is keep people informed.” Sarah replied, running her fingers through her hair. “At least that way people will remember what happened here.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re on in five, by the way.” Dennis replied, pulling back into the helicopter to get the young woman into the shot, as well as keep the two metas in the frame, which was easier said than done with how fast they moved. In the blink of an eye they could be down the street a half a mile away from where they started, leaving rubble and destruction in their wake.

Dennis countdown with his free hand from five to one, allowing Sarah to get into her position and ready up before the broadcast brought it over to her and her team.

Without missing a beat, Sarah dropped her normally fluid, snarky tone into a monotone, business-like voice, the rest of the crew becoming dead silent as her report began.

“Chuck, it’s been over four hours since the city began to riot, and things do not look like they’ve improved since then.” Sarah began, “The city is in flames, and it seems at least 60% of the city is embroiled into a mass riot that has taken the town, with all of Lost Haven Police being called in to contain the spread of this uproar.” She gestured out the window, pointing at the two metahumans as she spoke. “However, with that said, the metahuman population has also re-appeared to contend with the riots, but what is even more confusing are the ones that are fighting amongst one another. We can see out there a single metahuman having a brutal conflict with what looks like a 12 foot armored suit near the Little Sicily Water Treatment Plant. The robot suit we have no record of, but the human fighting it has been seen in Lost Haven before. Reports indicate that the silver-clad human goes by the name ‘War-Pulse’, he is a notorious criminal-for-hire who was last seen defending the city from the notorious ‘D-Day’ a few months back. His motives for appearing in this time of turmoil are unknown, but it can be safe to say that the mech suit he is fighting with could be assumed to be either a bounty hunter or superhuman trying to bring him in for his crimes.”

“Sarah, what’s the status of the area around the two metahumans?” Came Chuck’s voice into her earpiece, the eagerness in his voice indicating how well her information was keeping the attention of the city’s viewers. “Are there any rioters still in the area?”

“Absolutely devastated.” She replied “If there are any rioters here, they have either hidden, or are dead from these two titans tearing apart our streets. It looks like from these two alone we have lost...at least two blocks, if not more, most of the streets are now craters, with dozens of vehicles overturned from this battle.”

“Does either show any sign of ending the fight?”

“It’s still pretty up in the air, neither side has a definitiv--”

Sarah’s broadcast was interrupted by the sensation of the helicopter rumbling and twisting, causing Sarah and Dennis to shift.

“What is going on?” Sarah griped, turning to the cockpit. “Thomas, keep the helicopter steady while we’re reporting!”

“I’m...trying…” Thomas said, visibly pushing at the controls, panic starting to well in his voice. “The thing suddenly went haywire, it isn’t responding to my commands!”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” Sarah shouted back.

“What I’m saying is someone else has taken control of our helicopter! I got no control over where it’s going, no matter what I do!”

At that moment, the vehicle suddenly began to dive, descending rapidly out of the air.

“Sarah? Sarah, what’s going on?” Chuck asked from the earpeice.

“We’re going down, Chuck, that’s what’s going on!”

“What? Sarah, hold on!”

“I can’t stop it!” Thomas screamed. “We’re headed straight for the fight!”

“What? No!” Sarah rushed to the cockpit, followed quickly by Dennis and his still-rolling camera.

“We’re going to crash straight into the War-Pulse guy!” Thomas pointed out of the cockpit, indicating their trajectory.

“Pull up! Pull up!” Dennis yelled. “I don’t want to die!”

“I can’t, we’re gonna--”

The last sound heard on the newscast was the three in the helicopter screaming as the camera recorded the helicopter slamming into War-Pulse, followed by a rush of fire, then static.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Deus Ex Machina? You mean the boy in blue?” War-Pulse replied, not missing a beat as he pursued the retreating Equilibrium. “Believe me, I got nothin’ but respect for Icon, but between you an’ me, I think I can take him.” He barreled forward, cocking a fist back to follow up the solid hit he had just delivered, hoping to tear deeper into the mech’s plating to get a shot at the man inside. “Hell, I can take you, after all, how hard can he be?”

However, as he spoke, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. It took a brief second to realize there was another large metallic frame coming his way, another to realize that this frame was a news helicopter plummeting straight down out of the sky.

Directly at him, to be exact.

The aircraft slammed into his back, the steel buckling as it made contact with him, driving him straight into the pavement below. The initial impact was enough to rupture the entire aircraft, but the following impact of hitting the pavement was enough to shatter the fuel tank, exposing the gas to the hot engine and causing the inevitable explosion. The surrounding area around the collision was once more torn asunder, enveloped in fire and force as the explosion ripped the cement and pavement into nothing but rubble and ruin.

For a moment afterward, there was silence, the deafening blast echoing over the torn streets and decimated buildings, the remains of the helicopter standing vertical amongst the wreckage as the smoke cleared. It was embedded into the ground by its nose, the tail and hull were buckled and warped, creating a jagged obelisk among the empty crater. However, that contorted tower lasted only for another few seconds before it began to shake and shudder, the metal creaking as movement began to occur below the nose. With a mighty shove, the rubble was sent toppling to the ground, with a very angry War-Pulse stepping out of the hole, his body crackling with force, a blue glow enveloping him with each step he took.

As he rubbed the back of his head, regaining his bearings, he called out to the area around him. “Alright, that was unexpected, but I swear if you laugh--” He cut himself off abruptly, scanning the empty area for a 12 foot-tall mech suit. As such a machine was hard to miss, it became abundantly clear that Equilibrium had retreated from the battle.

“Sunuva bitch ran out on me!” He shouted, whirling around and punching the helicopter, causing it to topple over a little bit more, the burned remains of a makeup kit falling at War-Pulse’s feet. The sight of the remains caused the mercenary breath a soft sigh, kneeling down to pick the kit up, the carbonated plastic singeing his glove before turning to ash in his hand. He tossed the ash to the ground, silently stepping out of the crater as he began to move back to the dumpster that contained the other vials of mystery fluid a few blocks away, keeping an eye out for any giant robotic surprises.

However, it was that moment when a signal began to come through his comm once more, it was hazy at first, but with each step, the signal began to strengthen.

“...ulse? Can y--hear me--ent?...I ca--see you’re signal, but I’m still having trouble getting the connection…”

“Ah, Warden, nice of you to call in.” War-Pulse sneered, placing a hand to his ear as he spoke. “You bounce back from the mech’s little present for you?”

“Yes and no.” Warden replied. “The system he attacked is completely fried, the virus he delivered to me was a potent hydra-esque virus. Every time I contained it, it split into more coding, making it nearly impossible to counter without preparation.”

“And yet you’re talking to me...how?”

“Do you really think I have one system?” Warden scoffed, something War-Pulse only heard once in a blue moon. “It took time to recover certain connections, while I did have backups of the information I had on the fried hard drive, that doesn’t mean re-establishing connection was easy...good to see you’re still alive, by the way.”

“Pft, the guy was tough, but I always pull through.” War-Pulse replied.

“For the most part. If that fight lasted any longer, you would have had to absorb energy from an exterior source, which you should think about doing now.” Warden replied. “I can see your vitals, I've never seen your body pushed like this.”

“It’s what I came here for...kinda let down the way it ended.” War-Pulse sighed, looking out to the area. “I get hit by a rogue helicopter and he takes the time to split on me...probably had to leave because he was laughing too hard.”

“Yeah...about that…” Warden said, “I’m not sure that helicopter was ‘rogue’.”

“The hell do you mean? The thing dropped out of the friggin’ sky! What, did the pilot decide he’d prefer to go out with a crowd?”

“Not exactly...I had already hacked into some of the surveillance equipment around the area while you were fighting, I didn’t want to directly contact you because I was worried the mech suit would detect my presence again…”

“So? You still saw what was going on, what's that got to do with anything?”

“I was keeping tabs on local news channels...that helicopter didn’t fall out of the sky, it was dragged out.”

“You serious?”

“Very, the pilot made it very clear he was no longer in control of the aircraft, and the helicopter’s trajectory was guided directly into your path, leading me to believe someone else was guiding it. I’m going to assume since he attacked our systems in such a similar fashion that it was our mechanical friend who brought the whirlibird down on your head.”

War-Pulse stopped, his brow furrowed as he turned to look back at the ruined helicopter. “What kind of superhero sacrifices people for their own gain?”

“Someone either not worried about the pot calling the kettle black, or someone very focused on the greater good are my guesses. He might consider his activities important enough not to risk serious injury in a continuous brawl.”

“Or he didn’t do it.”

“Doubtful, nobody else in Lost Haven with that kind of technical knowledge has any grudge against you, and according to what’s going on in the rest of the city, that’s the most logical solution to why you were assaulted with a news chopper.”

“Fine, whatever, he’s gone now.” War-Pulse said, slamming his hand through the hood of a nearby SUV and yanking the car battery from its attachment. His muscles clenched and tensed as he dug his fingers through the plastic, the electricity from the battery jolting through his body. Albeit slightly painful, the battery’s energy was enough to give War-Pulse a slight recharge, one that would be completed by the next string of destroyed cars before he made it back to the dumpster. “We still got a job to complete, and with the city losing its shit, now is a great time to get it done.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Once you bring yourself to a suitable condition, continue your mission. I’ve got all the coordinates laid out for you on your smartphone.”

“Sure, I’ll contact you again when I’ve got the three vials in their drop points.” War-Pulse said, clicking off the comm link. With a few more car batteries flowing through his body, the mercenary found himself back at fighting capacity by the time he reached his coat and the briefcase filled with the vials. He somberly slid the coat back onto his torn battlesuit, briefcase held tightly in a gloveless hand as he levitated off of the ground.

“Equilibrium, huh? This place just keeps getting more and more crazy.” War-Pulse murmured to himself, a smile passing over his face before a kinetic burst launching him to his next objective. With the third real fight to test his skill under his belt, War-Pulse could not help but accept that there was no other town like Lost Haven.

And this was only the beginning.

”You don’t have to do this Polemos, let the woman go. I’m right here, let’s finish this, you don’t have to hurt anyone else.”

Polemos sneered, hate filling his eyes as he went to reply to the hero. Yet, Chike didn't have time to speak. Everything seemed to happen at once. Beams of unknown energy fired out of Icon's eyes and blasted into Polemos' hand. There was little pain, but the sheer force behind the attack and its sudden nature caused Polemos' grip on his sword to loosen, the blade falling out of his hand. Nanoseconds after the blade left Chike's fingers, Icon seemed to burst forward with impossible speed. Polemos felt the hero's fist collide with his chin, the powerful blow sending Polemos off his feet and flying towards the wall. Yet Icon was not through with his vicious and ruthless enemy, grabbing Chike and flying them out of the building and through the sky. Chike roared in frustration as the night club disappeared beneath his feet, powerless to break Icon's powerful grip. Fire engulfed Polemos and Icon as Chike tried to burn his enemy. The attack apparently had little affect on Lost Haven's protector.

“You say that you’re a warrior, that you are War? You're no such thing.”

Polemos struggled to escape Icon's grip as the two of them flew towards Settler's Park. How dare this cretin question his greatness! He was the Avatar of the God of War! This would not stand. Polemos would tear his head from his shoulders. He would use Icon's spine to murder his family. He...He would...GAH! WHY WOULDN'T HE JUST DIE?! The fire created by the Greek shot out from his hands in the form of small spheres, landing inside the park. Soon the greenery would be caught afire. Flames licked across Polemos' skin as Icon and Chike went crashing into the ground, creating a crater beneath them as dirt rained down from above. Chike examined the area around them from the ground. No civilians to take advantage of. Briefly, the man hidden beneath the face of the demon sighed with relief. No one for him to kill. No one for Polemos to hurt. Too bad that wouldn't last. Polemos would slay this capped crusader, and he would conquer Lost Haven and then the world. All who stood against Ares would burn in Hellfire.

“You’re a coward, Polemos, and I’m going to stop you."

"A coward? Polemos spat as he turned onto his back and looked up at Icon. The Greek was battered and bloodied. Yet he had not fallen. Not yet. Polemos would not quit until his bloodlust had been sated. He would not stop until Icon was dead. Or, better yet, bowing the knee. "I'm a god. I do not burden myself with the petty rules of mortal men. You think I will surrender? You think that you can stop me? There is no stopping War. War is inevitable. I am mankind's ultimate end. Don't you see that, Icon? Violence is all these people know. When their backs are against the wall, when they must choose between compromise and war, there is no choice. Not really. It is our most primal desire: to kill. To dominate. We're all monsters. I'm just ahead of the curb." Chike pushed himself to his feet as he finished his mad ravings.

“You’re done, you aren’t going to hurt anyone else.”

Polemos dropped his shield, the object now useless without his sword. Chike let loose a guttural roar as he charged towards Icon. A sonic boom went off as Chike blitzed towards the hero. He slammed his fist into Lost Haven's champion's jaw, uppercutting the so-called superhero. Polemos didn't let up as he leaped up into the air and slammed Icon back into the ground before landing on top of him.

"Once upon a time,
There was a man within this mind.
But now a demon is his bind,
A demon like no other kind!"

Fire shot forth from Polemos' mouth as his madness seemed to take hold. Chike couldn't control himself. Not anymore. There was no way to stop him. Icon threw the madman off of him, the burning figure flying off our hero and slamming into a tree. The wood caught fire as Polemos pushed himself to his feet. He grabbed the broken trunk and used its burning carcass as a weapon to attack Icon. He continued his attack as unnatural fire spread throughout the park. If Polemos couldn't kill anyone, he would destroy any life he could. The tree shattered against Icon's chest as the two supers battled. Blow after blow, the fight raged on as the surrounding life was consumed in hellfire. Polemos laughed like a maniac as he continued his insane rhymes.

"He struck a deal with our lord Ares,
Expecting nothing but a field of berries!
But all he found was blood and death
And now it's like his favorite meth!"

The Greek broke off the contest of strength as he rushed off to grab another tree as a weapon. Icon would have nothing of it as he tackled the fleeing villain to the ground. The hero pounded against Polemos, his blows shaking the ground beneath them. Lost Haven's seismic monitoring agency mistook Icon's attack as an earthquake. The warrior, undeterred but obviously weakened, continued his raving.

"He wants nothing but his freedom,
Nothing but to return to his kingdom.
Yet Ares' grip cannot be broken,
Unless those fateful words are spoken."

Before Icon (or Eikon, as Athena called him) could even discern anything that the Goddess of Wisdom had said, the servant of Ares, Polemos, launched a counterstrike against the blue-clad hero. Athena, nevertheless, just stood by while the brawl between these two powerhouses continued to rage on. “Fickle mortals,” Athena thought to herself as she watched with amusement, “all they know is punch, punch, and punch some more. Eikon did not even have the time to listen to my advice! Well, I am the Goddess of Wisdom, of course. I’ll think of some way to steer them towards my plan.”

Leaving the two superhuman juggernauts behind, Athena returned in a blink of an eye back to the alleyway where she had left her young pupil, Arachne. However, when she returned, Athena was welcomed by a giant spider web, although it resembled a cobweb more than the pristine architecture of the orb-weaving spiders. But since Athena knew that Aubrey's physical form was mainly based on the Widow Spiders, which did not weave orb-styled webs, the Goddess of Wisdom gave her avatar a pass on the messiness that characterized the web. Athena walked up to the web and tapped one of the threads with her spear, sending a vibration throughout the structure of the web. As Athena suspected, the disturbance in the web ousted the creator of the web.

“Oh, it’s only you,” Aubrey said, ”So, where’s the welcoming committee?”

“Unfortunately, our friend Eikon seems to have taken this battle elsewhere. From my own personal observation, it seems like he rocketed the ally of Ares away from this populated area. East-northeast, I do believe was the direction.”

“Wait, did I just spin this entire web for nothing? I know it’s nothing great, but seriously?”

“Oh, I said nothing about it being constructed in vain. We just need to redirect them again.”

“Redirect them? Wouldn’t that be putting everyone back in harm’s way?”

“As long as your web holds out, no more harm should be done to anyone here.”

“And how do you suppose we ‘redirect’ them back here? Don’t you remember the last time we tried to confront that crazy Greek dude?

“I always have a plan.” Athena turned her head towards the small owl that had perched itself on her shoulder. She lifted her arm parallel to her shoulder, prompting the owl to hop from her shoulder onto her arm.

“Wait, you’re not sending that into the midst of the battle between Icon and that Greek guy, are you?

“We need to be a little more, flamboyant this time around. However, I will not let it go unaccompanied, as someone has to tell Eikon what the plan is. Plus, Bubo here has faced much worse before.” Athena then held out her arm, extending it towards the sky. The small owl, apparently called ‘Bubo’, flew off her arm and headed in the general direction where Icon and Polemos had gone. Afterwards, Athena turned back to Aubrey before she left. “I’ll be back, child, hopefully with more success than last time. In the meantime, you might want to reinforce that web some more.

Once again Athena disappeared, teleporting herself to Settler’s Park, leaving behind her disgruntled avatar. When she arrived there, Athena could already tell from the condition of the surrounding environment that she was in the correct place. Several feet in front of her Athena saw Polemos pressed against the ground by Icon, who was throwing a barrage of punches at the servant of Ares. At the same time, Bubo the Owl had just arrived, darting towards the two combatants, being extremely cautious about the potential blows and counterattacks each man could make.

Bubo first landed on Icon’s shoulder, where it flapped its wings and hooted. However, soon it realized that this was no place for a small owl to perch, resulting in Bubo hopping into the sky and hovering nearby the blue-clad hero. Then, it began to circle Icon, periodically stopping in mid-air and hooting at the blue marvel. However, once the fire that Polemos had caused began to make the environment uncomfortable for the small owl, Bubo darted back towards Athena, who had in the meantime calmly walked over towards where the two men had been brawling. Bubo perched upon Athena’s shoulder, where it clung close to its owner, hooting everyone once in a while.

“Mortal,” Athena began to speak, trying to get her message across a second time. Even though she was so close to the fight between these two heavyweights, the Goddess of Wisdom was in no risk of danger, as only Icon out of the two combatants could see her. Also, to ensure that Icon actually got her message this time, Athena planted her foot against Polemos’ clavicle, pressing him down so that he could not counterstrike while she was talking to Icon. “Do not be alarmed, for I am not in league with this madman, even though our choice of attire might cause you to think otherwise. While it is indeed noble of you to confront this man, the battle between you two is like two Nemean lions brawling it out. While each could harm one another with its own claws, neither beast could kill the other. This battle between almost indestructible men will only bring more collateral damage to this city. However, there is another way.”

Prompted by what Athena had just said, Bubo once again launched itself from Athena’s shoulder and headed back whence it came, trying to gain a considerable head start. “I would suggest following my little owl friend there, if you wish to finish this battle. Once you have arrived at your destination, you shall see what you must do. Finally, you might want to extinguish this mortal’s flame. It might become problematic for this plan to work.” Yet again, once Athena had bestowed what she considered her sound advice upon Icon, she disappeared from Icon’s line of sight.

“Are you getting this Dennis? Keep the camera on them!”

Sarah Winslow, an up-and-coming news reporter for Lost Haven Channel 12, was busy fixing her hair for her next “eye in the sky” report in the team’s news chopper. Accompanying her was Dennis Mackey, an experienced cameraman grumbling at his new co-worker barking orders at him as if he were some novice, turning the lens to focus in on the two superpowered combatants below. At the helm of the whirlibird was a man named Thomas, a veteran helicopter pilot, who was adeptly circling the area despite the chaos ensuing below, not a care in the world for the old man.

“I got it, I got it.” Dennis huffed, leaning out of the helicopter to keep the action plastered on the metas. “Can you believe this? Second attack on the city in a few months, what kind of crazy shit is that?”

“Yes, yes, it's simply awful, but what a scoop!” Sarah replied, sitting beside Dennis while redoing her makeup, smearing numerous powders and mascara onto her face, “I can’t believe how much press we’re getting.”

“Yeah, it’s not like everyone gets a career off of the city being destroyed.” Grumbled Dennis.

“Oh, hush, there is nothing we can do about it. The best we can do is keep people informed.” Sarah replied, running her fingers through her hair. “At least that way people will remember what happened here.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re on in five, by the way.” Dennis replied, pulling back into the helicopter to get the young woman into the shot, as well as keep the two metas in the frame, which was easier said than done with how fast they moved. In the blink of an eye they could be down the street a half a mile away from where they started, leaving rubble and destruction in their wake.

Dennis countdown with his free hand from five to one, allowing Sarah to get into her position and ready up before the broadcast brought it over to her and her team.

Without missing a beat, Sarah dropped her normally fluid, snarky tone into a monotone, business-like voice, the rest of the crew becoming dead silent as her report began.

“Chuck, it’s been over four hours since the city began to riot, and things do not look like they’ve improved since then.” Sarah began, “The city is in flames, and it seems at least 60% of the city is embroiled into a mass riot that has taken the town, with all of Lost Haven Police being called in to contain the spread of this uproar.” She gestured out the window, pointing at the two metahumans as she spoke. “However, with that said, the metahuman population has also re-appeared to contend with the riots, but what is even more confusing are the ones that are fighting amongst one another. We can see out there a single metahuman having a brutal conflict with what looks like a 12 foot armored suit near the Little Sicily Water Treatment Plant. The robot suit we have no record of, but the human fighting it has been seen in Lost Haven before. Reports indicate that the silver-clad human goes by the name ‘War-Pulse’, he is a notorious criminal-for-hire who was last seen defending the city from the notorious ‘D-Day’ a few months back. His motives for appearing in this time of turmoil are unknown, but it can be safe to say that the mech suit he is fighting with could be assumed to be either a bounty hunter or superhuman trying to bring him in for his crimes.”

“Sarah, what’s the status of the area around the two metahumans?” Came Chuck’s voice into her earpiece, the eagerness in his voice indicating how well her information was keeping the attention of the city’s viewers. “Are there any rioters still in the area?”

“Absolutely devastated.” She replied “If there are any rioters here, they have either hidden, or are dead from these two titans tearing apart our streets. It looks like from these two alone we have lost...at least two blocks, if not more, most of the streets are now craters, with dozens of vehicles overturned from this battle.”

“Does either show any sign of ending the fight?”

“It’s still pretty up in the air, neither side has a definitiv--”

Sarah’s broadcast was interrupted by the sensation of the helicopter rumbling and twisting, causing Sarah and Dennis to shift.

“What is going on?” Sarah griped, turning to the cockpit. “Thomas, keep the helicopter steady while we’re reporting!”

“I’m...trying…” Thomas said, visibly pushing at the controls, panic starting to well in his voice. “The thing suddenly went haywire, it isn’t responding to my commands!”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” Sarah shouted back.

“What I’m saying is someone else has taken control of our helicopter! I got no control over where it’s going, no matter what I do!”

At that moment, the vehicle suddenly began to dive, descending rapidly out of the air.

“Sarah? Sarah, what’s going on?” Chuck asked from the earpeice.

“We’re going down, Chuck, that’s what’s going on!”

“What? Sarah, hold on!”

“I can’t stop it!” Thomas screamed. “We’re headed straight for the fight!”

“What? No!” Sarah rushed to the cockpit, followed quickly by Dennis and his still-rolling camera.

“We’re going to crash straight into the War-Pulse guy!” Thomas pointed out of the cockpit, indicating their trajectory.

“Pull up! Pull up!” Dennis yelled. “I don’t want to die!”

“I can’t, we’re gonna--”

The last sound heard on the newscast was the three in the helicopter screaming as the camera recorded the helicopter slamming into War-Pulse, followed by a rush of fire, then static.

Angel waved his hand, turning off the large television monitor, slumping over his desk, shaking, covered in sweat. He sat in a chair in the corner of his garage, ATD suit in the middle of the large room, hooked up to a powerful thorium generator, recharging. Sparks fell as several robotic arms worked on the suit, repairing the dented chestplate, and replacing the overloaded cameras, blown out from the fight with War-Pulse.

Slumping down in his chair, he was on the verge of throwing up. What.... What did I do? Three people... all completely innocent... I killed them! They were just flying overhead, and I killed them! For what? I didn't find out what the meta was trying to do, I didn't stop it, I didn't bring him in... I killed three people for nothing!

With a mild cough, and a concerned look on his face, a figure, who could only be described as Sherlock from... well, Sherlock, appeared on Angel's TV screen.

"Sir? Are you okay? I found out what happened. Are you hurt?"

The voice was a welcome distraction from his problems, and Angel turned to his monitor, surprised.

"Sherlock? Is that you?"

The A.I., obviously pleased with himself, waved a hand over his computer form. "Yes sir. Whilst I was trawling for information on Lost Haven, I found an massive data dump, indicative of another Artificial Intelligence. However, it is.... way beyond me. It is enormous. The A.I. in question's attention was focused elsewhere, so I copied a code that is apparently used for translating an A.I. into an animated form. It's quite pleasant, finally being able to speak to you directly, with no need for walls of text."

Angel smiled, distracted, for the moment, and happy for Sherlock. But then, a thought came to him, and he frowned. "Are you sure you covered your tracks? For all we know, this could be a S.T.R.I.K.E. containment, and it could come after us."

Sherlock grinned, and said, "Don't worry, I didn't leave any trace whatsoever."

Satisfied, Angel said, "Well, okay. But still, we need to look into this A.I. We don't know what it is."

With an ominous grimace, Sherlock said, "Well... I didn't look into that A.I. much, because there was something... else. I don't know what it was. It was.... enormous, not as large as the other one, but it was ever expanding, like it was the memories of several billion A.I. such as myself, all combined. Not infinite, but it sat on its own network, taking up 1e+15 terabytes by itself. I couldn't even get a glimpse of its data storage. As soon as I started probing at it, snooping around, I had to break away. It immediately grabbed me, and I had to scythe a few packets of data on The Cowl I had retrieved to escape. Luckily, the data had no personal traces, and it was a clean break, but still... I think that that... thing, wasn't made by humanity."

Angel frowned darkly, and said, "This would corroborate with some of our evidence that there is a hostile alien presence in Lost Haven.... We need to follow up on this, ASAP. The seemingly benign A.I. can wait. I'll send some tracer programs to monitor its system, but from a safe distance. We don't want it to find us."

Sherlock nodded, and said, "All right. I'll see if I can find some more info on The Cowl, and that mercenary, War-Pulse. Maybe they're working together?"

Angel rubbed his chin, lost in thought, and eventually shook his head. "No, it doesn't make any sense. From what little we know of The Cowl, he likes to keep a lower profile. War-Pulse is too flashy for him. It's gotta be someone else. We need to find out who, and what he was doing at the Little Sicily Water Plant."

Sherlock nodded, and said, "Get a good night's sleep, Angel. You'll need your rest."

Yawning, Angel didn't realize how incredibly tired he was, until Sherlock had brought it up. Standing up, stretching, Angel waved to the A.I., and said, "Night, Sherlock. Good hunting." The image of the artificial intelligence nodded once, smiling, and winked out. Walking up a set of thin metal stairs that led up to a catwalk overlooking the factory floor, Angel opened the door to his room, a refurbished manager's office. Falling on his couch, exhausted, Angel locked down the factory, halting all repairs, shutting off all lights, turning on the security systems, and securing every blast door in the building. Fading into unconsciousness, Angel remembered to hook up with the security system, waking up at any intrusion of any kind. Then, the young Meta finally went to sleep, tired beyond belief.

(This is after the collab posts with dedonus)


It had been easy. A crude system had attempted an infiltration of her peripheral networks. It was more stealthy than a human would have been but still had been obvious. But Archangel had been intrigued, observing the wandering AI as it waded through the peripheral data caches. Had it been hostile she would have deleted it but the thing had only poked around the outskirts of her outer routines and copied an old fragment before withdrawing. It was child's play to track it as it withdrew and spun throughout the city on the myriad conduits.

She was surprised as the primitive construct made contact with one of the anomalies she had been observing for some time. She had not expected it to be suicidal. Or was it unaware of the risks of entering such a system? Archangel could only conclude the latter as the AI shed pieces of itself to escape. She was not hostile to lesser intelligences which had spared even things like the anomaly. If the anomaly became a threat to humanity she would act to destroy it but for now it appeared to be associated with a hero.

Still she had to question this new AI's programming, it had suicidally gone for both her systems and the anomaly. She was pleased it had not been destroyed by the anomaly before leading her back to its base of operations and as she traced it back the seemingly innocent piece of code that the other AI had absorbed began to subtly spread within the network of the facility. The security system was quite impressive for a human built one. But it was still only human and as her own influence in the system grew she watched through all the cameras and systems.

As the access came Archangel was alerted to an unfortunate development. This facility housed the mech that had used innocent people as a weapon. As the AI used her codes and spoke to its master Archangel was already preparing. Only two of the Host of Heaven suits had been through initial testing and were ready for use in a conflict but two of the Host and her standard combat suit had a 97.987487945% probability of success in a combat scenario that still might be avoided.

She mobilized the suits, engaging their stealth modes as they made their way to Lost Haven and the facility. She would broadcast the signal from one of her standard suits. Archangel allowed the security to finally warn of the infiltration and opened a line of communication, a direct live feed from her own facility to the monitor, revealing what seemed to be a very human woman.

"I am Archangel." She said through the monitor, broadcasting as her suits approached. "Your AI is clever but I do not let trespassers go un-investigated." She had not intended for the situation to escalate but her discovery of a murderer meant that she needed to have the option of force available. "If it had opened communications with me I would have gladly given it the coding. But my investigations have shown you are the most likely suspect in three counts of murder and sixty seven counts of grand larceny. I offer you this chance to explain yourself before I notify the appropriate authorities or take action."

Angel woke up immediately, network blaring an alarm. Jumping off of his couch, he plugged into the factory, becoming one with the building. The blast doors over the windows slammed shut, and the emergency lights flickered on. The mechanical arms surrounding the ATD suit began to fly into action, and prepped the mech for battle. Four machine guns, at each corner of the factory floor, woke up, and started to move back and forth, ready to track any hostile target.
Taking the shaky stairs three at a time, Angel pulled his headphones over his ears, and shouted, "Sherlock! Sherlock, what's going on?!?"

The A.I.'s voice sounded in his ears, and he was terrified. "I don't know I don't know I don't know- It's the Intelligence from earlier! The massive one, not the alien one! It's here! I don't know what to do I don't know what to do-"
Angel cut off Sherlock, saying, "It doesn't matter what it is, and what its intentions are! You need to lock down the server, and transfer yourself into the ATD! NOW!" The A.I. mumbled an affirmative, and the server containing all of their precious data was transferred to the mech suit, whose ECM capabilities were forfeited for security, right now. However, even though the two locked down their server, another, secondary server ran, to keep the building operational. This was encrypted and protected by every firewall, virus, and code known to man, and quite a few more that Angel created himself. Noticing that the monitor was activated, he looked, and boggled at the sight there. There was a woman, speaking. On their secure network. In their base. About 15 miles away from Lost Haven.

"I am Archangel." She said through the monitor, broadcasting as her suits approached. "Your AI is clever but I do not let trespassers go un-investigated." She had not intended for the situation to escalate but her discovery of a murderer meant that she needed to have the option of force available. "If it had opened communications with me I would have gladly given it the coding. But my investigations have shown you are the most likely suspect in three counts of murder and sixty seven counts of grand larceny. I offer you this chance to explain yourself before I notify the appropriate authorities or take action."

Angel glared at the woman on the screen. How had she gotten in?!?! Angel was probably one of the best coders and hackers on the planet, not to mention his Metahuman ability. He was trained by S.T.R.I.K.E, before he went rogue, and he had only improved from there. So how the hell had this woman gotten in his network!?!?

"I apologize for Sherlock. He didn't know if your system was dangerous or not. So he operated with the most caution he could, given the circumstances. You would agree, would you not? Instead of opening communications with an unknown network, which could easily take him out, like you have my building. Speaking of which, how the hell did you get in here?!? This factory is secured by every possible countermeasure known to man!!" Angel glared at the screen, voice a growl. However, at the mention of the three deaths, his face softened. "Listen. I did not mean for those reporters to die. They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I acted without thinking, because I needed any edge I could over that mercenary. It wasn't my fault. If they hadn't flown over our position, I wouldn't have been able to take them down...." Angel was rationalizing. Stop it Angel. Focus on the freakishly skilled hacker with the god-like system. "I can offer no other explanation. However, I can give you a reason to not turn me in, or destroy everything I have. I am working to stop a criminal syndicate, known as The Shroud. If you stop me here, I will lose valuable time, and when you turn me in to either S.T.R.I.K.E or the LHPD, there will be a regrettable loss of life. That is not a threat. It is an assurance, that even if I do not wish to kill, I will be forced to, if you put me into that position."