Footsteps. Killgrave melded into the wall at his back, the first signs of sweat glistening on his forehead and smooth-shaven face. Melvin Potter stood at the other side of an intersection in the facility, a T-junction connecting the outer corridors and a passage into the receiving bay for deliveries. Coincidence had been married to opportunity when the Shadow Conquerors were formulating this plan - Potter was stationed as a security guard for the side entrance on the west side of the facility, and beyond those doors was the position of the new guard - the late Sokovian that Potter had viciously murdered - and the hallways he was assigned to monitor. Killgrave was garbed in an identical copy of an official government uniform. It had been one of the foremost issues, as the man chosen for the new guard position was much smaller than Zebediah, and they had no other opportunity to acquire another official outfit. However, Potter had stepped up then, stating with an unperturbed hubris that he was 'pretty skilled at costume designing'.
The approaching footsteps belonged to, as far as Killgrave could guess, the supervisor of the new guard - and as it was among his first nights of duty there would be some routine inspections to undertake. Potter had mused upon this in one of the preparation lectures, and so each of the operatives were outfitted with silencers for their pistols. Killgrave now gripped the weapon firmly in his hands as the footsteps neared the turning point. He glanced over at Potter, whom indicated with some curt hand gestures that he would distract the oncoming guard. Killgrave nodded in response, just as the body of the government man moved into sight.

"Hey." Melvin rasped quietly and harshly, causing the guard to jump in shock and fumble for the sub machine gun strapped into a holster about his waist. Killgrave rapidly moved in behind him while the guard was focused on Potter, and he thrust his hand over the man's mouth to stop him from crying out for help. Zebediah precisely jolted the man in the underside of his knee, bringing him down to the rough, white-washed ground beneath them. Potter wasted no time, butting the end of the pistol in the middle of the guard's forehead. The man lay dazed, Killgrave's hand still preventing him from shouting. Melvin Potter shot Zebediah a quick, fairly disturbing look of enjoyment, and then sent a bullet tunnelling through the guard's skull. The two men watched as the corpse's eyes slowly rolled up into the back of his head.
Killgrave stood up and moved on without a word. He pondered to himself, however, why Melvin could not have simply explained himself being in the hallway to the guard and diverted him back towards the warehouse. I suppose it's one less hostile to deal with, and it was the most efficient way. Government scum deserve to die anyway. The doubts faded as fast as they had come to him - though he obviously took less pleasure in the act than Potter did. The 'Gladiator' relished killing itself, whereas Killgrave relished only the killings of the ones who had pissed him off: the heads of the Government. Those that had subjected someone directly related to Zebediah to prostitution, the once acquaintances of Killgrave - when he was growing up - to endless labour and meagre reward.

At the end of the long hallway loomed a battered grey door. Melvin was to go no further than it, leaving Killgrave to pass into the expansive receiving bay alone. The experienced Shadow preferred it that way, as stealth only became harder when more bodies inhibited him. The shipment of weapons and the experimental gas were positioned fifty paces away from their entrance door, by a large blue collection of crates, according to Potter's recent intel. The two men stopped by the grey door, turning to each other.

"I won't have to degrade myself by doing this lackey work anymore, Gladiator." Killgrave stated, partially as a farewell, but also as a patronising insult.

"Good luck." Potter only chuckled in reply, fondling his silenced pistol as he began to stride back down the hallway, "You'll need it."
Zebediah narrowed his eyes at that, but he knew he didn't have a great deal of time in which to operate, so he dismissed it and deftly pushed open the door.


Three men and a woman stood conversing, twenty paces to Killgrave's right as he knelt beside a six-foot high stack of boxes. They were the only ones who would be able to see Zebediah in his journey from the cover that the boxes provided him to the small complex of crates and containers that was the weapons shipment. He scanned the warehouse for a few moments to try and ascertain if there were any other viable routes. He could move to the left thirty paces and progress along a shipping canister, but Killgrave had no idea who or what stood on the other side of the container or how much longer it would take him. Ivan Jankovic had instructed him profoundly that it was to be a fast job, in and out, with as little conflict as possible. The resulting explosions would be enough to kill the entire personnel of the facility, anyway, so neither Killgrave or Potter had too many gripes. He decided, with this in mind, to take a risk and to walk calmly and furtively towards the shipment and as far away from any staff as possible. He had an infallible disguise in the uniform, and the guard's face was surely not known by many of the workers yet. Also, not many in the warehouse would be armed guards, and there was only so much common workers could do to oppose a well-trained operative.
Taking a deep breath, Killgrave rose and strode out from behind the cover.
The new guard's hair was blonde and mine is a deep black.
He began to retrieve the compact timed explosives from his left outside pocket.
Nobody but the supervisors are permitted near the shipment.
He subtly increased his pace as he approached the outskirts of the containers.
They will undoubtedly notice me sooner or later.
Zebediah reached the cover of a large crate and he instantly crouched down to the floor. He had three timed detonators to plant - silent, devastating variants of a common explosive that the Shadow Conquerors had developed. The expanse of the shipment was only ten metres wide, so Killgrave carefully lay down an explosive at an interval of two paces. His breath ran ragged like a devoted smoker's wheeze - this was one of the hardest jobs Zebediah had been assigned. Most were in larger groups with simpler tasks, however this was what he needed to receive the prominence he deserved. Reinforced suction devices attached themselves to the ground, and Zebediah's controlled fingers designated the countdown of two minutes to begin.

"Hey!" A woman's shout from close by in the warehouse rang out. The woman from the quartet near the door. Shit. The Shadow clung to the floor, slowing his breathing and rapidly forming a plan in his head. He reached for his pistol. Before any confrontation could be made, alas, the muffled whizzing of a bullet cut short the woman's audible approach. Zebediah spun around to see the grey door wide open, Melvin Potter putting bullets into the staff's brains, Ivan Jankovic - Killgrave's superior - standing smugly by the opening, and several heavily armed Shadows filling the corridor behind him. The staff were dead or dying, and the men's attention turned to Killgrave. The young Sokovian knelt, frozen, completely bemused by the events unfolding before him.
He quickly puzzled it out as Potter raised the silenced pistol to him, a twisted smirk on his face.

"Guess I'll be the one getting the promotion, Killgrave." He snarled, his smirk growing into a grin. A bullet ripped towards Zebediah, and he barely had time to react. It was aimed directly at his heart, though he managed to twist and dive against the targeted point. The pelt tore through his leg, the middle of his left thigh, giving Killgrave the necessary pain to prompt a shriek of agony. Anger at Potter and the men behind him consumed Zebediah as he riled about by the containers. Melvin grunted, dissatisfied with his missed shot, and he took another step forward to aim again.

"No, Gladiator." It was Jankovic's voice that permeated the thin air. "Leave him to die." Zebediah's eyes darted to match the grizzled commander's. The same look of concern and fear that Killgrave had observed in the past few meetings dilated his pupils, revealing the truth to the master of stealth. More concerned about me than I thought. He needed to dispose of me. Pain still racked his body, the blood oozing out of his thigh with surprising amounts.

"I'll... k-kill..." Zebediah hissed, though another shot from Potter's gun stopped him short. His right arm snapped back with the impact, bone and cartilage dying with the bullet now lodged in his elbow. His scream again filled the room. The sounds of oncoming guards echoed.

"Gladiator! We're leaving!" Jankovic moved with curious speed for his age and bulk, dragging Potter back with him towards the door. The Shadows behind them aimed machine guns towards the south-east side of the warehouse, where a frantic susurration emanated. Potter turned a final time, however, a mad look filled with death in his eye. He broke from Jankovic's grip for a second and fired a shot blindly at the shipment. Killgrave did not know what he had done to earn such hate from the Gladiator, or perhaps it was just the thug's apparent obsession with murder. The careening bullet thankfully missed him, and Jankovic threw the large operative back down the hallway before he could cause any more destruction.
Zebediah groaned in agony and tried to drag himself along the ground, but he slipped in the puddle of his own blood.
Then a large canister fell from above and landed heavily onto his chest. A bullet-hole breached the outside of the container. There were so many warning and hazard signs on the outside that Killgrave could barely concentrate on one of them. A strange, preternatural - purple - gas was gushing out of the hole, and the substance was even dissolving the container's material now that it was on the outside. More and more of the gas emerged from the canister, like the tendrils of a demon coming out of it's lair. It did not raise into the air as it should have done. It seemed to locate and focus on Killgrave, with the throngs of purple gas suddenly converging and moving to cover Zebediah's entire body.
The pain of the gunshot wounds was nothing compared to the torment that now afflicted him.
It was if his skin was being ripped away, and replaced by new, foreign material.
It covered his face, his nose, his mouth. His eyes were blinded as the substance went inside his body, into his bloodstream, into his brain.
He thrashed about wildly, tears and blood streaming down his face as his life pooled out from his wounds around him. He noticed his left arm through the corner of his vision. A deep, encompassing hue spreading across the muscled skin. Horrifying. Alien.

Purple.

By morning, America Chavez was still contemplating her situation. It had been a long night, with the super powered teen tossing ideas back and forth in her head. In the end, America found that she would have to do it. If not, she may never find whoever it was behind the Mutant Growth Hormone distribution. Sure she could always try and find Reed Richards, Tony Stark, or even Hank Pym, but that would waste time that she simply didn’t have. The easiest and quickest solution would be to find a telepath, and if the guy she was considering was anything like his counterparts from across the multiverse, then this day was probably going to end in a similar manner to how it had the day before. Badly.

After showering she dried her now frizzy hair, before pulling on the same t-shirt and shorts that she had worn the day before. She didn’t like having to keep wearing the same clothes every day, but until she could get back to her apartment or go shopping, she was stuck with what she had. Putting the thought out of her head, she approached and window and gazed out over the city. New York was a big place. In fact this entire world was a big place. How the hell would she even find this telepath? He could be anywhere!

Remember the number which S.H.I.E.L.D had given her for emergencies, America flopped back onto the bed. Surely they wouldn’t mind searching their databases for her? Besides, it would help them keep an eye on her location. Save them having to send a bunch of agents parading after her. After taking a second to think this over one last time, America put on her war face and dialled the number.



Luckily America didn’t have far to travel. According to S.H.I.E.L.D, the guy lived over on Staten Island with his parents. She received some good news in the fact that the kid hadn’t come up on their radar before, other than the fact that he was a mutant. Maybe he was different than his counterparts out there in the multiverse. America decided to hold all judgements however until she met him. As for she knew, he could still be a massive dick.

Originally she had planned to take a taxi, or even a bus, although after stepping out of the hotel and witnessing the traffic, America decided to take to the skies instead. Flying was more fun anyway.

Before long, the hero was descending down upon the streets of Straten Island, her eyes darting from the piece of paper in her hand with the address, to the various street signs below her. Navigating to the place wasn’t too difficult and after a few minutes she found herself stopping next to the white picket fence at the bottom of the house’s lawn. Taking a deep breath, she made her way towards the front door, taking note of all the generic lawn ornaments on her way. People actually owned lawn flamingos?
Rapping her knuckles on the door, she soon found herself face to face with a stern looking middle-aged woman, who instantly gave America the impression of being a typical suburban soccer mom. The teen stood for a few seconds, forcing herself to contain her laughter.

“Well?” The soccer mom, who America now decided was probably called Helen, asked demandingly.

“Is your son home, ma’am?“ America asked politely.

At once, the woman turned and bellowed through the house.

“Quentin, there’s a girl here for you!” At once, the woman disappeared was the doorway, only to be replaced seconds later by her son.

To say the least, he wasn’t anything like America expected. She had expected to find some kind of rebellious punk sporting a Mohawk and a leather jacket from Grease, not this. America probably wouldn’t have recognised him on the street if it wasn’t for the signature surly look that was painted across his face. That face changed at once however when he spotted America to a look of pure bewilderment, with his eyes narrowing.

“Who the hell are you and why can’t I read your mind?” He asked, his snarky voice almost as demanding as his mother’s.

America smiled. Looks like her psychic defences were working perfectly. Fantástico.

“Quentin Quire?” She spoke confidently. “My name is America Chavez, and you’re going to help me find some drugs.”

Three men armed with semi-automatic weapons crouched beside a wall that shielded them from the line-of-sight of anyone who happened to be coming down this alleyway. While more men hid around that location, these three men would be the welcoming committee for Silvermane’s shipment truck that would be coming any minute now. They lurked behind their position patiently, waiting for the signal from the scout, who was located ahead of them, that the truck was coming. While the Rose’s men knew about Silvermane’s shipment and the possibility of that maggia leader to have reinforced that shipment with his own armed men, they never expected any third-party interference.

THWIP! THWIP

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sticky, white substance covered the firearms that they were holding. In the matter of seconds, whoever was on the other side of this sticky rope yanked those guns out of their hands, disarming them in the process. When the three men looked up, they discovered that a young man dressed in a blue and red costume with large white lenses was responsible for taking away their weapons.

“I don’t know about you, but I was always taught that guns were tools, not toys! If you guys cannot play nice, I’m going to have to confiscate these dangerous items from you!”

“It’s Spider-Man!” One of the Rose’s men yelled. The man’s composure was rattled, partially due to the fact that they were ambushed by this superhuman vigilante. At that very moment, the advance scout’s signal went off, alerting all of the Rose’s men that Silvermane’s shipment was approaching. Knowing that the element of surprise was a necessity in their plan, the leader of this division of the Rose’s maggia ordered a hold fire. The plan would be all but moot if they showed their hand by opening fire on Spider-Man.

Spider-Man webbed up the three firearms that he had apprehended from the men below him and adhered them to the wall, high enough that no one would be able to retrieve them until after the synthetic silk had dissolved. He then turned his attention back to the men, who had by then already darted away and ducked for cover since they knew that without their weapons, they would be sitting ducks to Spider-Man and any men that Silvermane might have sent. However, before he could go after the three men, a robust deliver truck pulled up to the loading dock that was located only a few yards away.

A barrage of gunfire erupted, pelting the vehicle with hundreds of projectiles. However, nothing seemed to pierce the vehicle. Even the glass, although chipped and cracked, was still intact. After the first wave of gunfire ceased, a second wave of bullets were fired. However, this time the barrage was not aimed at the vehicle, but rather at Rose’s men. Somehow, Silvermane’s men were privy to the trap, already springing a counterattack against the men who thought they would have an easy prey to ambush. It was now time for Spidey and his Amazing Friends to spring into action. While these men were probably all scum, that does not mean that Spider-Man and company did not have to allow them to mow each other down. Life is precious, even the life of a scumbag.

Following his courageous leader, Iceman dove straight into the action, steering the ice he was sliding upon towards the space between the two rival gangs. As he did so, his eyes snapped shut briefly as he concentrated, lowering his temperature even further, as well as that of the surrounding area. In an instance frost seemed to coat the ground around the hero as he moved, with him moving up his arms in an attempt to create an icy barrier. The ice responded to his commands, with a small wall of ice forming gradually between the two groups of gunmen.

Luckily Bobby had managed to evade the gunfire so far, with him steering his ice slide away from the enemy fire. Deciding to give the temporary battlefield another swoop, he veered around, with the ice covered man heading back towards the fray.

The icy wall, now riddled with holes and cracks seemed to reform as Bobby approached to the young mutants delight, who was now using his spare hand to fire short blasts of frost at both Silvermane’s and the Rose’s men. While most of the blasts seemed to miss due to the a combination of the great distance and the fact that he wasn’t bothering to aim, a few hit their mark, knocking back the occasional mobster and covering them in a thick layer of frost and ice. However he was getting cocky. Silvermane’s men quickly adapted to the situation, with them aiming most of their fire on the mutant who was now circling above them.

“Iceman, watch out!” Firestar cried loudly, as she moved towards him through the air.

It was too late though. While Bobby himself wasn’t hit, the spray from one of the men’s automatic submachine guns hit the ice in front of him as it began to form. The ice shattered instantly, causing Iceman to lose both balance and concentration. He stumbled. In seconds the mutant was hurtling towards the ground, the remains of his icy slide falling down behind him.

Out of almost nowhere, Spider-Man swung towards his fallen friend, racing against time to grab Iceman before his impending collision with the ground. It was almost as if that infamous night began to repeat over and over again inside Peter’s mind, reminding him of the terrible fate that Gwen had suffered on that night. Timing his jump, Peter leapt into the air and caught Iceman and then he immediately shot out a webline to steer them away from the men who had put his teammate in such a position.

“You should be honored, Frosty! Flash Thompson would have fainted by now due to how much a fanboy he is of mine, despite the great irony in that!” While Peter was taking Bobby out of harm's way, Firestar flew past them and send a radiation blast in the direction of the men who had knocked Bobby off of his ice slide. While Angelica did not hit any of the men with her energy attack, the impact it had with the ground around them caused debris to fly up and knock them down onto the ground.

Once these men were incapacitated, Firestar began to fly back towards Peter and Bobby so that they could regroup. However, before she could reach them, a black bola wrapped around her legs. Although technically this weapon did not hinder Angelica’s flying abilities, she nevertheless turned to see her attacker. However, she was only greeted with a second flying bola that wrapped around her torso, restricting her arms.

“Um, guys, my powers aren’t burning through these.” When Peter turned his head to see Angelica panicking in her distressing situation, he decided to set Bobby down on the ground and head back towards Firestar. However, once Peter and Bobby became earthbound, several maggia grunts, confused on whom they should be targeting, launched another round of gunfire against the two superhuman teens. Realizing that he could not just leave Bobby there out in the open, Peter grabbed Iceman again and tried to move him out of the way of the bullets that were whirling past them.

“Iceman, we need a barrier between us, pronto!”

“Sure thing, Spidey!”

At once, Bobby flung up his right arm in the direction of their attackers, with a barrage of ice erupting from the ground between them as he did so. The sound of gunfire remained, although the teens found that there weren’t any more bullets flying past their heads for now, with them instead hitting the icy barrier, sending small chunks of ice everywhere. Outstretching his hand, Bobby send out another beam of ice, using it to reinforce the newly formed barrier.

With that done he turned his attention back to the more important situation at hand. Angelica. He had watched as she had been hit by the multiple bolas, with him noting that she was evidently in trouble. Now that he wasn’t distracted he managed to take in the whole situation. Bobby and Peter watched in horror as a shadowy figure moved over the now motionless body of Angelica. Evident by the smoke as was hovering around them, the guy had tossed what appeared to be a knockout gas grenade.

Enraged at the thought of him hurting his best friend, the Bobby darted forward. The ice covered mutant sprinted across the battlefield, raising his arms out in front of him. As he moved, he fired short bursts of ice at the ground before him, which he slid along with ease, building in speed. He had to help her. He had to stop him.

By now however, the mysterious assailant had noticed the incoming mutant. As he lifted Angelica up and over his shoulder, he seemed to reach for something from his belt. Bobby wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but it was clearly some kind of grenade. Panicking, the young mutant tried to stop as quickly as he could, but it was too late, as the projectile flew towards both him, and the now following Spider-man.

A flash of blinding light and sound erupted from the device. The sheer shock of it caused Bobby to tumble and fall, with the young mutant rolling across the floor, his arms shooting straight to his eyes and ears in order to block out the pain. The same could be said for Spider-man. Oh Bobby certainly did not want to know what that felt like with Peter’s spider sense!

A short amount of time passed before Bobby regained his vision again. Fortunately the flashbag had effected a bunch of nearby Maggia Grunts too so the two teenage heroes hadn’t fell prey to gunfire during that “fun filled” surprise. However that was the least of his worries right now. The ice covered mutant raised his head, his eyes darting around the docks.

This was bad. Both Angelica and her kidnapper were gone.

“Angelica…” Bobby managed to utter the words, his eyes now fixated on where he had last spotted hi friend. His heartbeat was increasing past, his hands shaking wildly, causing several pieces of his icy armour to drop to the floor.

“Peter, what do we do?” The young mutant asked, his voice full of panic and pain. “What the fuck do we do?!”

Peter dragged himself back on his feet, trying to push through the massive headache that had been caused by the hyperstimulation of his senses. “Don’t worry, Frosty.” Peter rubbed his head, as if that would do anything for his major headache, “I know just the person who would know about any shady-looking costumed vigilante. Just follow my lead.”

Peter then leapt into the air, swinging up to the roof of the nearest building. However, once he leaded, instead of shooting out another strand of artificial silk, Peter bent over and grasped his head. “Maybe we could rest a few minutes before we head out.”

The fight was over in what appeared to be more or less a victory; Loki still hadn't let down his guard through. His old...tool?.. The 'Enchantress' was still alive after all these years and it was quite clear that she was still rather sore about the fact that he hadn't delivered on the whole Thor thing. As much has he had insulted her for being unoriginal and a leech when it came to her abilities and her plans, Loki knew for a fact that Amora was no fool and was a rather talented sorceress in her own right; She was just highly undisciplined and focused more on the control of others then building up her own strength. His insults had simply been a rather simple ploy to get under her skin and keep her focused on Him rather then letting her focus her attention and magic on people less suited to counter it.

He was going to have to hunt her down at some point...

The sudden lack of snakes helped cool the burning in his eyes, but Loki had already been planning to find a bathroom somewhere so that he could scrub the hell out of them with water until the pain stopped when the strange woman... Victoria the Valkyrie helped him. Rubbing his eyes a little to wipe away the water that had already been pooling there, Loki took a good, hard and long look at Victoria. If Amora's taunts were to be believed, Victoria and Sigyn where connected in some way if not the same person. This would need to be looked into further later.

"Thank you Ms Valkyrie. I do apologize for Amora. The old hag was never one to let someone else hold the spotlight. Be thankful she didn't try to sing; Even magic can only do so much to cover up a complete lack of talent after all. Loki joked good naturally. After everything that had happened, a small joke to try and lighten the mood a bit would hopefully not be misplaced.

Turning to Dr.Doom, Loki's smile seemed to fade a little into a more neutral expression. Due to the mask, it would have been impossible to judge if the Ruler of Latveria was surprised when Loki started to speak flawlessly in his natural tongue but in the end it didn't really matter if he was or not as long as he understood the message. "'I have watched your rulership of Latveria for a while now with great interest Doctor Victor Von Doom. While the world may judge you a petty tyrant on a power trip, I recall those whom came before you and know for a fact that you are a ruler who deserves a great deal of respect for what you are attempting to do for your people. I suspect that we will meet again and that you have only just began to create a great legacy. I wish you well Dr Doom.'"

Allowing the two of them to head off, Loki offered Mr Stark a polite nod of the head when he saw the boy glance his way before going over to join the Doom Bots in helping people. Even without the use of magic, his natural strength would aid in the removal of rubble from those trapped underneath while his magics were reserved for more... troublesome cases were pure strength wasn't the answer to remove someone safely or if they had injuries that they needed healed immediately. He always made sure that he was smiling, talking to those that he rescued as if this was just something that happened often and even cracked a few small, tasteful jokes here and there. He had promised to try and make this as good an evening as possible after all.

The air smelled of salt and fish as Wolverine jumped from the roof of a warehouse onto a nearby pile of shipping containers. Night had fallen over the docks, and most of the people who worked legitimate jobs were home at this hour. All that was left were the scum of the earth, easy pickings for James Howlett. Wolverine hid within the shadows, careful to not reveal himself when a pair of men in suits carrying assault rifles passed by his perch. Professional killers. Just like the guys who had been protecting Henry Jenkins, the scumbag in charge of this sick circuit. Wolverine had made sure Jenkins got what he deserved before heading over to the docks to save the kiddies locked up in the basement. Logan waited until the patrol had passed out of earshot before sliding down the shipping containers and dashing across the street behind a pile of loose steel beams. He took a whiff of the air, separating the various smells that entered his nose. Logan identified ten more individuals surrounding the warehouse, with the last two mobile around the dock. Aside from the smell of fish, oil and rust, Wolverine could smell the kids. All one hundred and twenty three of 'em. Logan was a little surprised to hear that only twelve men were needed to watch over so many mutants. After all, Wolverine could take an army all on his lonesome. Maybe, he theorized, Jenkins' bosses only wanted the more docile or harmless mutants for Trask. Wouldn't make sense to protect a shipment of a small horde of bulletproof kids with laser vision using only twelve guys.

But back to the mission at hand. Wolverine reached into one of various pouches on his belt and pulled out a watch. Three in the morning. He'd have at least two or three hours before anyone showed up for work at the warehouses. Good. In that amount of time, Logan should be able to get all these kids out and to Romulus' people. The boss said he was goin' ta find out where the kids' parents were and send 'em home, so long as that's what they wanted. Of course he was going to try and recruit whoever he could, but there wasn't enough room in Team X's safehouse for a hundred and twenty three super powered brats. Anybody willin' to take in that many mutant kids would have to be crazy.

He slipped the watch back inside the pouch. Wolverine pulled his mask down tighter around his face, before sliding out from behind the cover of the steel beams and making his way towards the warehouse. Shimming along the side of the building, Logan spotted a sturdy pipe leading from below ground to the roof. Weapon X tested his weight against the pipe; once he was sure the metal construct was secure enough to hold all three hundred pounds of weight Logan was carrying around, the assassin ascended to the roof. A mouse would have been jealous of Logan's stealth. The roof of the warehouse was completely flat. A blessing and a curse for Wolverine. On one hand, he wouldn't need to worry about accidentally falling off. On the other hand, the two patrolling guards wouldn't have any trouble spotting Logan when they looped back around for another pass. With this fact in mind Logan moved swiftly. He slid open one of half a dozen skylights that dotted the old structure, slipping inside and landing on a raised walkway.

Now that Wolverine was inside, he had a clear view of the interior of the warehouse. The top floor had seven guards inside with three more guards in the basement. Two of the seven were positioned on the upper walkways, where Logan was now perched. They would have to go first. Wolverine disappeared into the shadows as one of the armed guards rounded the corner and stepped into his line of sight. The unsuspecting trooper received three claws through the face. Logan dragged the body into the darkness and dashed across the walkway. The second guard leaned against a stack of crates, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The distracted combatant made easy prey for Wolverine. With the walkways clear of spying eyes, Logan had a chance to locate the remaining criminals. Five more scumbags dotted the warehouse. Two of said scumbags ran into each other and decided to spark up a conversation.

"Hey Joe," One of the thugs asked, clutching his assault rifle to his chest. "Did ya hear anythin'...Weird..Earlier?"

"Nah, man. You?" Joe replied casually. This seemed to offset the other guard. "Yeah. Sounded like somebody was gurglin' water. Freaked me out, so's I went to check it out. Didn't see nothin'." Joe just shrugged. "You're hearing things." The guard shook his head furiously. "No way, dude. Heard it clear as day. You think it was one of our boys kicking the bucket?" The guard looked up, worried about the two men assigned to the walkways. The guard tried to scream; but alas, he was too slow. Wolverine fell down from the rafters and decapitated the two guards simultaneously. Blood sprayed all over Logan, who didn't so much as grunt at the sickening display. "Holy shit!" Wolverine's head turned at a hundred miles per hour at the sudden exclamation. Half an instant later bullets started to fly. One of the guards had discovered Logan's presence, and watched him kill two of the guards!

"Hmph."

Wolverine slammed forward like a freight train. Bullets sunk into the charging mutant, but that didn't stop Logan's rampage. He sliced the gun in half with his Adamantium claws before doing the same to the man holding the gun. The final two guards appeared, opening fire as well. They tried to drop the mutant with everything they had. But Wolverine wasn't goin' down that easy, cutting out both guards' throats and letting them drown in their own blood. Now to find the basement entrance. Logan scanned the warehouse floor and noticed a nearby staircase leading downwards. He moved like a shade down the stairs. His speed was incredible. When Wolverine reached the bottom of the stairs, he kicked the metal emergency door off its hinges and caused the thing to fly across the room. The basement was pretty standard. A furnace, a conveyor belt, some crates, and a couple of holding cells with superpowered kids inside.

The remaining three guards turned their attention towards the stairs. Yet when the first one turned around, Wolverine was gone. What?! Where'd he go?! A blood curdling scream caused the guard's skin to crawl as he turned around once more. His fellow mercenaries were both on the floor, eviscerated and mutilated. Logan chopped off both the man's arms, roaring like an animal. The man cried out in pain and fell to his knees. Wolverine shot his knee forward. The sheer force of the attack caused the target's nose to be pushed so far back into his skull that his nose pierced his brain, killing him.

Terrified screams and the sound of crying brought Logan's mind back into the present. Reminded him of the job he was here to do. Wolverine turned towards the caged children, slicing off the locks on their cages. Utterly and completely afraid of their savior the mutants immediately ran for the exit with no regard for the others. Wolverine stood in silence until the room was emptied out.

Another job well done, he'd guess.

Agents of Romulus were waiting outside dressed as police officers and paramedics. They would help the kids. Get them back to their parents, if they desired. The more powerful of them would be tagged and observed, while the weaker ones would be treated of their injuries and released back into the world. So long as they were kept out of Bolivar Trask's filthy little hands, Romulus didn't care what they did. But really, who did?

"V is for Vanity."

“Amora. I've heard that name somewhere before.” Victoria muttered underneath her breath as she pondered the whole situation at hand. Her SHIELD agent investigative instincts kicking in. 'Why is he staring at me like that?' She wondered and tried not to make eye contact with Loki. Something about him made her want to hug him desperately as if she had missed him all of her life, yet punch him at the same time, or possibly tear his limbs off. Deep inside of her, dark thoughts and emotions quickly rose to the surface. Reminiscent of a time of extreme hardship and grief, someone she didn't want to be. A conflict of emotions she didn't understand. Amora called her Sigyn – could this be connected to Loki? SHIELD might hold more answers. But this enchantress...she needed to track her down and get answers from her as well. She tried to kill her parents and this was not to be tolerated by the Valkyrie's own sense of justice.

For now, her priority was to protect Lord Doom at all cost. She acknowledged her ward with a nod of the head, her unmoved winged silver circlet firmly held in place around her dark curly locks. “Of course, Lord Doom. We shall make haste to your Embassy at once.” Sheathing her sword into her belted guard, she then looked around for any more possible threats. She had to be cautious on leaving the grounds.

As she escorted Doom from the mansion gate border, she couldn't help but turn around and look at the God of Mischief once more. Her eyes narrow upon his sight. Watching him remove rubble like it was nothing. He had strength. Similar to that of hers. And that feeling of familiarity around him? She would need to get to the bottom of it. He could be a potential enemy to these Earthlings, of which she was considering that she was not one of those anymore. But then WHAT was she? Asgardian? Magic? Amora called her a Goddess. Victoria Parrington, daughter to mortals? A Goddess? Hardly likely.

However the reality, she knew that deep down she could not trust this Loki character...but something in her wanted to believe she could. He didn't seem threatening or malicious. Perhaps there was only one out there who could convince her that Loki was bad news and reveal the truth.

Putting it to the back of her mind for now, she proceeds to escort Doom to a private black car with black tinted windows so that nobody could see who it was inside. “If you would stay inside the car at all times please My Lord, I'll escort you from the air.” Her wings spread and with one flap she propels herself skyward and remains at a hover until the car started to move. There she could monitor traffic and any incoming threat she could immediately deal with, armed and dangerous. Natalia taught her instincts well. And FalCap America taught her to fly with supreme confidence. It was the only thing that truly brought her any joy anymore after all that had changed.

---

A few months ago:

A nervous Victoria stood on top of the SHIELD HQ building, one foot leaning slightly over the edge. She holds one leg over the side and reaches out slowly towards Sam, her wings were extended. She suddenly retracts and jumps back onto the building's flat surface. “No I cant do this! I'm going to fall!”

But Captain America, her mentor and leader, told her that he would never let her fall. She trusted him. He held out a gloved hand toward her with a smile that she knew was genuine. He wouldn't lie to her. And she trusted her instinct, she took his hand and he gently lead her to the edge, he steps off and she follows suit. She expected to drop and she was scared, her eyes closed tightly shut.

Upon opening them, she found herself hovering in the air. Her magical wings were flapping away, keeping her in the air. All of her fears suddenly dissipated into nothing and she let out the most joyous laugh. She hugged Sam in the air. She couldn't believe it. The power of flight was indeed a freeing occasion.

And the two would have many flight sessions to help her gain control of her wings and agility. She would be forever thankful to the man who brought her the enjoyment of flight. Although, she could do it unaided, she'd still prefer to have that flying companion by her side. Someone who could share that same sense of joy that nobody else could feel. Nowadays, she would find herself flying alone. She just hoped that Cap was alright out there in the Savage Lands. She didn't want to lose a good friend.

A blinding, ruby concussive beam blasted out of Cyclops’ visor as he aimed for a wall turret within the Danger Room. Once the turret had exploded from the energy beam, Scott dove to one side, dodging the rounds of ammunition that one of the other turrets shot at him. Rolling into a knelling stance, Cyclops pressed a button on his visor, releasing yet another beam at the turret that was just targeting him.

Then, several robotic training dummies appeared from trap doors in the Danger Room’s floor. They rushed at Scott while he shot lower-powered concussive blast that knocked each individual robot onto the ground, disabling them in the process. However, since there were more opponents than Scott could down before they all reached him, Scott was overrun by them. While he tried to put a fight up against them, swinging his fists at them, the training robots swarmed him. Now, they had pulled Cyclop’s arms behind his back while one of the robots was preparing for the finishing blow and the rest gathered around in a circle.

“You think I need to touch my visor to use my powers?” Cyclops taunted them with a cocky attitude, “If that what you think, you’re in for a rude awakening.” Scott compressed both of his thumbs on triggers located on his gloves. He swept his head from one side to the other, blasting all of the robots that were standing in front of him. He was about ready to break out of the grasp of the two robots that held his hands behind his back, but the robots suddenly powered down and the Danger Room training program powered down.

A red strobe light flashed inside the Danger Room, alerting Cyclops that something important needed his attention. This fact was confirmed when he heard the Professor telepathically communicate with him. “Cyclops, meet the others in the War Room.”

Scott rushed out of the Danger Room and headed towards the War Room, where the Professor would prep his X-Men before sending them out on any kind of mission. When Scott arrived there, he saw that the Professor was already seated in his wheelchair in front of the holographic projector that was positioned in the center of the room. Next to him stood Storm, who was already suited up for the X-Men’s next mission.

“Well, we can get started while we wait for Colossus and Nightcrawler to arrive.” Professor X placed on his hand on the side of his hand, sending out a telepathic message to the two absent X-Men so that they could ‘hear’ what he has been saying. Meanwhile, the holographic projector pulled up a satellite image of the Eastern Seaboard, with a focus on New England. “As we all know, Senator Kelly has made his position on Mutants perfectly clear at this point. However, that doesn’t mean we should ignore any threat on his life because of his hateful views towards people like us.”

“Today, Senator Kelly was scheduled to hold a rally in Boston to bolster his chances as becoming the Republican presidential nominee. However, Cerebro has just picked up a mutant disturbance in the general vicinity of the Senator’s location. From the information taken from local news outlets by Cerebro, it seems that our friends in the Brotherhood has decided to crash the party. Cyclops, I would like you to…”

However, Colossus suddenly burst into the War Room, a worried expression painted across his face. “Professor, Kurt is missing! I checked his room before I came down here, but he wasn’t there. I searched everywhere for him, but our blue imp is nowhere to be found!”

Professor X placed both of his hands on the side of his head, focusing to see if he could find his missing student without the aid of Cerebro. However, the Professor could not find Nightcrawler within the range of his telepathic abilities. “Let’s see if the mansion’s security footage can shed some light on where Kurt might have gone.” After he had uploaded the security footage on the holographic projector, the video feed appeared before the four X-Men. While there were not cameras inside his student’s individual room, for privacy reasons, there was a camera placed in the dormitory hallway that lead to the bedrooms.

After the Professor fast-forwarded through several hours of video, he finally allowed the video to run at normal speed when he saw a red and blue figure appear on the screen. One moment, he was walking into Nightcrawler’s room. The next, he had Kurt in a headlock as they exited the bedroom. Before the figure forced Nightcrawler to teleport outside of the X-Mansion, the figure looked up directly at the camera, revealing the large white lenses that were framed by a black trim on the figures mask.

“Why would Spider-Man come all the way to Westchester to kidnap Nightcrawler?” Cyclops asked the Professor.

However, the Professor sat in silence for a few moments, collecting his thoughts before he spoke. “I don’t know, Scott. But I do know that we will have to change our tactics now, since our ranks will be spread then. Cyclops, you take Colossus and head down to Manhattan. I’ll assist you two in locating Spider-Man through my telepathic abilities. Hopefully we can resolve this issue without any violence.” Then the Professor turned to Storm. “Storm, take the Blackbird and pick up Jean and Hank McCoy. I’ll telepathically alert them to the situation before your arrive.”

As soon as the three X-Men knew their missions, they all rushed to either the Black Bird or the X-Mansion’s vehicle garage. While Cyclops, Colossus, and Storm were leaving, Professor X used his telepathic abilities to contact Jean Grey.

“Jean, I’m sorry to interrupt the fundraiser, but I’m afraid we need you elsewhere. Please excuse yourself from the party and politely ask Hank to come along with you. Unfortunately, we are having a small problem with man-power at the moment and we need every man we can get. Storm will rendezvous with you in the Blackbird”.

Then, Charles Xavier tried to determine Spider-Man’s location. However, every time he tried to use his telepathic powers, Professor X kept tripping something that was like an alarm. While this “alarm” did not prevent him from finding his location, it somehow allowed Spider-Man to know that someone was trying to get inside his head. Knowing that he could not continue to pry Spider-Man’s mind for his whereabouts, he decided to use his powers to see where Bobby and Angelica were. He knew that the two had teamed up several times in the past. In fact, today they went down to Manhattan so that they could “hang out” for a while.

Therefore, using his mutant powers, Professor X discovered that Bobby was with Spider-Man at that moment. However, so that he would not alert Spider-Man to their little ‘investigation, Charles Xavier decided not to alert Iceman to the situation. However, it was peculiar that Angelica was not with them. Something seemed very odd about this situation.

Just as Jean got to the Shaw's mansion gates, her head resounded like it usually did when her telepathic senses went off. She held her head to concentrate for a moment and she could hear the Professor's voice enter her thoughts.

“Jean, I’m sorry to interrupt the fundraiser, but I’m afraid we need you elsewhere. Please excuse yourself from the party and politely ask Hank to come along with you. Unfortunately, we are having a small problem with man-power at the moment and we need every man we can get. Storm will rendezvous with you in the Blackbird”.

"Understood Professor..." She contacted him telepathically in return. Knowing she had to turn back toward the mansion and enter inside it. She sighs upon turning around. Luckily, Sinister had slumped back into the shadows where he belonged. She had a feeling she wouldn't see the last of him though. Nor Sebastian Shaw. Two people entwined within Jean Grey's fate.

She made her way back into the party and spots Hank trying to argue with the Harvard Professors on behalf of Jean's case. She didn't want to think about them right now. The X-men were in trouble and they needed their help. "Doctor McCoy." She walks upto his side and grabs his arm. "I need you to come with me please. There's been a small incident at home." She couldn't tell him anymore than that, she herself didn't know the details. She pries him away from the other scholars as he gently bowed upon leaving the fundraisers.

"Jean, whatever has happened I'm sure we can resolve it." Hank implores as he takes off his reading glasses and pops them in his top pocket. Jean leads him out of the mansion. "Storm is coming to pick us up in the Blackbird. Something must have happened, the Professor wouldn't normally contact us at this late hour." She ponders with worry. She could sense an urgency in Charles's voice.

Hank nods. "Hmm. Let's find somewhere more discreet for the rendezvous. We dont wish to alert the neighbours. I believe there's a park nearby."

Jean agreed. If average people saw what these group of mutants had at their disposal, there would be upheaval and unrest toward the integrity of these so called human loving mutants. As they got the park, the Blackbird was silently landing in stealth mode. The ramp comes down and Jean and Hank quickly run up it and into the plane's main body.

There they were greeted by Storm at the helm. "Good evening Ororo. Do you wish me to take over?" Hank asks the white haired goddess of the skies. Storm replies with a kindly decline. "I got it Hank."

Jean goes to a locker and begins to suit up behind a small screen. "What's the situation Storm?" Her voice calls out behind it. All Hank needed to do was shed his tuxedo jacket to reveal his muscled gorilla like blue fuzzy chest.

"Kurt has gone missing. And Senator Kelly has been attacked, by who we think is the Brotherhood. We're going to investigate."

"Oh great. That is the last thing we need. More reasons to hate mutants." Jean shakes her head as she comes out in her X uniform.


"The Brotherhood certainly aren't helping matters either." Hank sat in the co-pilot seat as Jean came to stand between Storm and Beast to watch where they were flying. She herself had learned to use the Blackbird's controls recently. She did need more flight time though. Storm, Beast and Cyclops were its most frequent pilots.

"Then it's time we taught them a lesson in manners." Storm remarks as she flew the Blackbird down toward Manhattan.

"I'm worried about Kurt. I hope he's alright.." Jean's emerald eyes twinkle as they look to the side as she holds her long red locks behind her ear.

The next day Derek was hunting the hero called Atlas. There was no way the 3D Man could take on a giant man on his own, so waiting to catch him off guard would be the most advantagious course of action. He watched the hero for awhile, when not engrossed in battle with villains the heroes seemed a bit boring. That's when Derek noticed something a bit odd. Several civilians making a crowd were actually Skrulls in disguise outside of Williams Innovations. That's when it got even more strange to the Three Dimensional Man. A supervillain, or rather another Skrull in disguise, made himself known and a battle ensued between the 'hero' Atlas and the 'villain' Dragon Man.

"Why the ruse?" Derek asked himself before seeing it.

During all of the chaos and confusion at least two of the Skrulls disguised as civilians got into the Williams building. Its owner and CEO Simon Williams watched from his upper level office seeing Atlas grow to about twenty feet tall to fight the roughly thirteen feet tall Dragon Man who's wings expanded at least twenty five feet. It was like an average sized man swatting away at a winged child. That's when a window crashed and the 3D Man stood before Williams himself.

"Sir, I don't know how to put this but you and you're company are in danger..." Derek began to say.

"I think that guy outside is taking care of the problem." Williams said in response.

"That guy outside is part of the problem, sir. That hero, the villain, and even some of the civilians down in the street are shapeshifters. They're most likely looking into your alternate power sources research and development." 3D Man continued with Tri-force energy emitting from his eyes.

"That's impossible, I pay for top of the line security and outside of idiots in t-shirts who think they're superheroes.." Williams began saying getting a little aggravated when security alarms began to go off.

"What was that you were saying?" Derek asked with an 'I told you so' expression.

~KL~

Doom got in the vehicle. A "limosuine" Of all the vehicles he could chose from. He would never have chosen one, having gone for a more useful vehicle however apparently those with status when they did not want to drive themselves sat in the back of one such vehicle. So he'd conform to the stereotype. Once they arrived at the Embassy he waved the car away, the gate opened for him straight away and he smiled at the sight of the embassy. Typical latvarian architechture, building materials and foliage. The garden itself cost a small fortune, which he paid for completely by himself. He signalled for Valkyrie to land and walk beside him, the four doom bots upon catching up moved themselves into the building to go and recharge. "What do you think of the estate Lady Parrington? I paid the fees myself. Modelled it after a painting I once saw of a house that was sadly demolished before my rule."

He waved his hand as he approached the door, the large wooden doors giving way to a wide atrium. "All of the costs funded by my own company of course, most other Countries require lavish embassys so I felt I should pay the expense when the country could not. However all of that is changing."

They entered a main reception area, where Doom then paused. "Do you require anything? Or would you just like to know where your room will be. Also if you wish I do have room for your parents."

The darkness was oblivion to Nebulo. It restrained him like nothing else could. He could writhe with fury, with all his strength. It mattered not. The darkness held him, for it chained his shadow to darkness. If he was not visible, then he could not move. In pitch blackness, he could never move. Nebulo screamed silently in one of the rooms of the abandoned tenement. He had stayed too long in the constantly dimming room. Now it was too late. He should have stayed close to one of the others, for they needed light, fire, all counters to darkness. He should have stayed outside where the ubiquitous galaxy's light cast Nebulo far down the paths, making him huge and powerful. Yet, he had made a mistake, and now escape was impossible. Oblivion chained him until the light came.


Leonus stalked the decaying, glum back streets of New York City. He hungered more than he usually did, maybe because of the insurmountable influx of new potential prey in the area. He also wanted to escape from the others for a while. Their presence was at best irritating to him. That was one of the main differences between Leonus and his pantherine counterparts - they hunted in packs, Leonus hunted alone. Before Terrigenesis, Leonus had always been a loner - a bookworm, in fact, a boy that nobody wanted anything to do with. No fun. The Inhuman process had changed him, however, had shown him his true form. Whatever he had been before was irrelevant, a testing of the waters before the headlong plunge in. He was a lone wolf... or rather, a lion. Yet he hunted with all the combined might of a horde of beasts.


She rested her eyes along with the rest of them. There was a certain camaraderie to sleeping among the flora in which Timberia now shared so many traits. The solemn moonlight cast a pleasant glow among her and her family. It calmed her most effectively, clearing her mind of all interfering thoughts. Shamefully, the bulky Leonus often occupied her mind - filling her with thoughts of lust and desire. She did not even know how a relationship between the two would work, yet that did not stop her from acting erratically when the feline man was around her. She had neglected a friendship with Falcona because of Leonus' bristling hate for her. It was those two who had each vied for control within the group - Falcona with her noble and more diplomatic aims and Leonus with his disdainful aggressiveness against humanity. Timberia had sided with the latter in an attempt to make him appreciate her, but unfortunately his emotions rarely strayed towards friendliness. Despite the obvious impossibility of him returning her lust, she feared she would stay stalking the feral man until it was no longer possible for her to do so.


Stallior had taken matters into his own hands. He had left Attilan with a mission, bestowed upon him by Master Triton. The aquatic Inhuman had always lectured the young denizens of the Great Refuge about peace - with humanity, and with themselves. He spoke against Gorgon and Karnak's fondness of conflict. He had told the children of noble and intelligent humans, those that could theoretically understand the civilisation of the Inhumans. Stallior's favoured message from him had always been 'We can look alien to them on the outside, but Terrigenesis is a process that can not breach the souls we share with the humans.' It had of course been said in Triton's guttural and broken speech, but a translator had been on hand to assist. As much as it pained to admit it, however, many Inhumans were anathema to his Master's message. If sould held the personalities and the core of a person, then why does Terrigenesis alter not only appearance, but even personality in some cases? Stallior had known Leonus before the ritualistic tradition. He had known a timid but well-meaning boy, accompanied always by a book or scripture. Now... Terrigenesis had irrevocably breached his soul. Master Triton certainly was wise and the perfect example of a pacifist, but some of his teachings were illusions to soften the knowledge of the hate that humanity would undoubtedly harbour for the Inhumans.

Wilson landed near the edge off the clearing the facility stood in. Luckily he had lost the Velociraptors long ago, and now it was just a case of getting into the facility. Kicking ass, taking names and taking out the anti-air. Then they could bring in the troops and wrap up. Fury was probably already close with the troops, so there was no real time too lose. He lowered his right hand to his thigh, a pistol extending automatically into his grip he then lifted his shield off his back and held it in his right hand, he wasn't as much off a fan of the shield as other renditions of Captain America had been however it had been part of the uniform since the original Steve Rogers.

Though it did have it's uses.

Leaning forward slightly, he fired the jets from his pack casting him up into the air. However instead of extending his wings he let himself drift, slowing rapidly. Curling himself into a small shape shield facing the ground, when he slowed so that the air wasn't whistling into his ears he could hear the shouting, gun shots began ringing and he could feel them hitting the shield. He just had to time this right, able to see slightly beyond the shield he turned himself down into a roll, pistol extended past the shield the moment he stopped loosing two shots into the closest guard, then worked his way clockwise hitting the guard to his two o'clock while the shield covered his left flank. Finishing the guard in a double tap he rolled and took out the two on the other side.

Alarms were going off already, no doubt people scrambling too get to the roof. He put his pistol down and took a piece of plastic explosive. Running over to the AA turret he placed the explosive on it's base before picking his pistol up again. Wouldn't do to set it off yet, no the longer he kept them distracted the better. Though there was something that seemed... off about these A.I.M guards. Taking what little time he had before they reached the roof he lifted the hood off the nearest goon. He was alive, heavy breathing. Though his eyes seemed distant, hollow. Slightly greyed as if he were in some kind of a trance.

He heard the nearby door open, turning his shield to face the new threat he was met by a hail of bullets. Something wasn't quite right, beyond the obvious. There was more at work than met the eye, first the sloppiness then the apparent trance and the fact if they were A.I.M normally they would have tried to bug out by now, trying to keep their name intact and free off being tarnished.

“I don’t believe you.”

America Chavez rolled her eyes at the young mutant’s comment. Why did Quentin Quire have to be such an asshole? She was currently sat in the kid’s room, having just explained who she was and what was going on. Well, she didn’t tell him everything. Certainly not everything about her past, but she kept the key points, as well as enough to keep the story somewhat realistic. Yet the little punk still didn’t believe her. To be fair, that was partly her fault. Months ago, after an incident with another telepath, America had taken up some psychic defence classes, thus meaning that Quire can’t read her mind.

Not wanting to waste any more time, America rose from her seat and glared at the mutant.

“I’m not loco, Quire.” She said, rubbing her temple in frustration.

Quentin simply laughed in response. “That’s what all the crazies say you bitc..”

Before he could finish, America had darted forward, her hand outstretched. Pushing hard, she shoved the mutant into the wall with such force that the drawers and shelves around the room shook for a brief second, dust floating off the tacky furniture as it did so.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Chico.” America growled threateningly.

After recovering quickly from the force and pain, Quentin took a second to catch his breath, before glaring into the girl’s eyes. Instead of the look of sheer panic that America had been expecting, a grin flashed across his face.

“Oh will you now? I highly doubt that.” He sneered. “You see Ms. America, unlike most of my pitiful generation, I happen to watch the news. I’m fully aware of what you’re capable of due to that little stunt you pulled yesterday downtown. How many people was it that you nearly killed during that fight, again?”

America tightened her grip angrily at the comment, her brow furrowing.

“I’m pretty sure I saw S.H.I.E.L.D. take you in after that. Yes, I know who S.H.I.E.L.D. are. I’m a genius after all. Now, I’m pretty sure that they won’t be too keen to hear that you’ve put yet another life in danger, right?”

America paused for a few seconds, before loosening her grip slightly. The kid was right. S.H.I.E.L.D. was still watching her. For all she knew, they could be camped out right outside in a van across the street, watching. She didn’t want to get on their bad side again. She knew full well what they were capable of if motivated. However she needed Quire. He was her last hope.

“Please Quire…” She managed, still trying to maintain her anger. “I need you.”

“Well too fucking bad.”

He was enjoying this. The annoying prick was really enjoying all of this. America could see the sheer joy in his eyes. Now that was the Quentin Quire she knew. He literally gets off of attention and manipulation. He was completely in control here, and he certainly knew it. There was no way she was going to get him to help; he was having too much fun.

That was when America had an idea. She let go of the teenager, causing him to drop back onto his feet. He appeared confused at the action, with the confusion increasing when America began to step away.

“That’s too bad then, I guess.” She began, shrugging her shoulders in acceptance. “I guess I’m not surprised. I mean, all the other you’s I met wouldn’t have done a thing either! I guess you’re just as predictable Quentin.”

With that, she turned on her heel and headed towards the door.

“Wait!” Quentin called, panic in his voice. “What.. what do you mean? Where are you going now then?”

America smirked slightly, before turning back to the mutant. “I don’t know! Maybe the X-men?”

Then she was gone. America moved back through the house quickly, giving the mutant’s parents a quick wave as she passed through the hall. In seconds she began to cross the lawn. Once she was halfway across however, she began to count.

“3…2…1”

Instantly, the front door burst open behind her. Out stumbled Quentin, with the young mutant rushing to catch up to the hero, pulling on a coat as he did so.

“Wait!” He called, as he raced up behind her. “I’ll do it!”

So predictable.

"Girls have white wings. The wings with which to protect their loved ones. I'm going to embrace you with those wings.” - Angel Sanctuary

It was hard to impress the Valkyrie these days. But she was impressed tonight. Impressed by the Latverian legacy, Doom's legacy.

"I have to say. I admire the work you doe for your country and people. To always want to better them. You do so much good that the world shies away from. I do not understand why the world views you as a tyrant and villain who does nought for anyone but himself." Valkyrie protests with her hands out in front of her, palms raised along with shrugging and shaking her head.

She walks by Doom's side, on high alert, especially after the charity ball incident. She was on edge still. She did take the time, however, to admire the architecture and could appreciate its beauty. Somehow, it reminded her of home. Not her home in New York with the Parringtons. Another home, another time and place.

"I see someone who has struggled so." She could not help but speak like a noble, it was in her blood, she never worded anything in today's modern language. The first of many signs that she wasn't a normal girl.

"I think the Parringtons, I mean, my parents...will be undoubtedly staying with their long time friends, the Potts. They may feel more at home there. Whereas, I feel more at home, here." She stops in the grand atrium, something had took her eye and she could not resist staring at it. A suit of glimmering armour. She managed a small smile. "Quite impressive."

"I do not require anything, Lord Doom, thank you. The location of my quarters please?" She needed to know the proximity of her room to the rest of the embassy so she could set up watch over the building as added security on top of the Doom Bots and alarm systems. She doubted she would get much sleep tonight anyway with all that was on her mind.

The attack on knowhere was un-expected, and unprecendented. It had always been a hub of criminals but they had been left as they were all in one place. What was the problem? Nobody could have expected an attack on that scale. While perhaps a cleanse could have been understandable, the wrong person in the wrong place. The Collector was a well known figure throughout space, collecting all sorts of items from all over the Galaxy. Though most of them useless artifacts, such as an old shuttle from a place called Russia. What could they have been looking for? What could have been so important that they almost wiped out the population of knowhere and took most of the Collectors possessions?

Though that was only the first attack. Since then planets throughout Xandarian space began to go dark, silent. No sign of a fight could ever be found just complete and utter destruction.

They thought Xandar itself was safe.

They were wrong. A lone transmission eminated from the planet.

"This is Nova Centurion Mexxa Rien to any surviving members of the Nova Corps. Xandar is lost, I am all that remains. If you get this message please respond-" Silence. "-Is anybody out there?-" Still nothing. "-If anyone reads me, I will bring whoever did this to justice. The destruction of Xandar will not go unpunished."



Dinosaurs? Since when did A.I.M control dinosaurs. Yes they were in the Savage Land but these dinosaurs were showing intelligence, working together and with the A.I.M agents. Though they were harder to put down. He kicked the closest Raptor in the chest, and pulled himself around the corner while dropping a grenade. How long did Fury say they had been here? Because A.I.M had pretty good control over them already. Something still wasn't right, and he wasn't going to call in the troops until he figured out what it was.

Though there was always Milton if things went south. Continuing down the corridor as the grenade exploded behind him, he went through the next door into what was a large storage area, multiple tanks held dinosaurs. He could see their eyes follow him in the room. Though something else was drawing his attention. There was a tank in the centre of the back wall to the room, there seemed to be... something else in there. As he got closer it became more discernible, it seemed to be some kind of pterodactyl with a more humanoid body. It was strange, had A.I.M been trying to make Hybrids? That never worked.

Then it's eyes opened, and he froze rooted to the spot. He could hear them coming, though something seemed to compel him where he was.

It took all his control to raise his hand to his comm. "S-end in- Milton"

It was a clear, cool summer night that would have set the perfect atmosphere for Senator Kelly’s presidential rally. However, since Kelly had made the mutant ‘problem’ a primary focus of his campaign, it was just a matter of time before a radical group of mutants would show up and shut him up. It just so happened that the group that happened to crash the party was none other than the Brotherhood of Mutant Supremacy.

“Don’t anyone try anything funny, mates?” Pyro shouted out to the crowd, “One wrong move and then BOOM, your toast!” Pyro then raised his arms up into the air and shot out two streams of flames into the air, showing what he meant by that they would be ‘toast’.

“Don’t sweat over it, Pyro. I already handled it.” Lorelei said as she walked past Pyro and towards the Parkman Bandstand, where their target, Senator Kelly, was standing. When Pyro peered again at the crowd, he noticed that all the men in the audience, who had come out to see Kelly speak, were now restraining everyone else in the park. Lorelei had a special gift that could allow her to persuade almost any man to follow her bidding. Even the officers and the security guards succumbed to her powers. It is quite useful power when half the human population, give or take a percentage or two, is male. However, Pyro wondered whether she has used her powers on him and the other guys in the Brotherhood just for laughs. “Well, at least she’s own our side.” Pyro thought.

“Shouldn’t we be watching the windows of the buildings across the street? If those crime shows have taught me anything, it is that they’re going to be placing marksmen up there to snipe us!” Toad complained while scanning the upper-levels of the buildings that he had just mentioned.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Avalanche pointed both of his hands in a fist towards the upper stories of those buildings, sending out vibrations that shattered the glass windows, which caused shards of glass to rain down onto the street below. “Problem fixed.”

“Has anyone seen Blob?” Pyro said as he scanned the crowd for his ‘super-sized’ ally. "I haven't seen him in a while. Where the heck could he have gone?" However, when he felt a slight quake, he knew that the Blob was close by.

“Tastes like chicken. Yum.” Pyro heard the Blob state aloud as he chewed on something.

“Blob, please don’t tell me you ate someone. That’s gross, even for you.” Pyro exclaimed in disgust.

“What? No! I was talking about these tiny nuggets that fast food chains pass off as chicken.”

“You didn’t ransack the Mickey D’s that’s a block or so away, did you?” Toad asked.

“Being evil always makes me hungry! I just cannot help myself!”

Meanwhile, Lorelei was returning where the ‘boys’ were, followed closely behind by two hypnotized guards who were dragging Senator Kelly along with them.

“I’m a United States Senator and a potential candidate for the President of the United States. Killing me would only prove my point that you all are a danger to society and a threat to national security!”

“Who said anything about killing you?” Lorelei taunted Senator Kelly. “Why in the world would we try to transform you into a martyr against our cause?”

“Then what do you want?”

“I’m sorry.” Lorelei said as she patted him on the head, “Why would I tell you a thing like that?”

“I also do believe revealing your master plan to your enemies is against the rules stated in that Evil Overlord’s List that's on the internet!” Toad pipped in after Lorelei had finished speaking. Lorelei ruled her eyes when she heard Toad's additional comment, not believing that she is stuck with these imbeciles.

“I suggest that you let the senator go and surrender now before anyone else gets hurt.” A voice that none of the Brotherhood recognized said from behind them. When they turned around to see who it was, the Brotherhood saw a blonde woman floating in midair, wearing a red and black costume with a golden, eight-point star centered on her chest.

“Hey, who invited the chick with the huge tits and the fat ass?” Blob blurred out, not really thinking about the repercussions of his actions.

“Blob, I don’t think you should be using the adjectives huge and fat, especially together in one sentence, when talking about other people” Lorelei chided her over-sized ally. It took Blob a few seconds to understand what she had just said.

“Hey! Are you inferring something, Lorelei?” The Blob shouted in protest.

“Oh, no. You inferred it. I only insinuated it.”

“This is your last chance.” Ms. Marvel ordered the five mutants who were standing below her. The agitation in her voiced revealed that the Blob’s recent comment on her physique did not settle with her well. “Surrender now and no one will be going to the hospital tonight.”

“You and whose army are going to stop us?” Pyro shouted back at Ms. Marvel.

“Yeah! There’s eight of us and one of you!” The Blob rashly blurred out again.

“Five, Blob, five! There are five of us. Can’t you count?” Lorelei berated him. In response, the Blob just shrugged his shoulders and mouthed ‘my bad’ to the sole woman of these five mutant terrorists. Meanwhile, Pyro blasted two streams of fire at Ms. Marvel, which caused her to be engulfed by flames.

“That’s why you don’t mess with the Brotherhood, mate!” However, it seemed as if Pyro had celebrated too soon since, when the flames that had engulfed Ms. Marvel had finally dissipated, the red and black clad heroine was still floating there, unscathed. In addition, a yellow aura began to glow around her entire body, while a yellow light radiated out of her eyes.

“Does it look like I need an army?” Ms. Marvel yelled at the five mutants after their first attempt at taking her out had turned out to be a complete failure. While she clinched her fists, a glow that matched the yellow aura and the light shining form her eyes appeared around her hands. “So which one of you wants to be the first to be vanquished?”

"Dr. Jean Grey: Mutants are not the ones mankind should fear."

“You and whose army are going to stop us?” Pyro shouted back at Ms. Marvel.

And that was their queue. The X jet was in hover mode and stealth right above them. Suddenly the hatch opens and Jean Grey levitates the three of them down into the park right beneath Ms. Marvel.

"You may not need an army, but you've got one anyway." The Beast states poignantly at the blonde super woman above him.

Storm clenches her fist and a crackle of lightning sparks from it. "Let the Senator go now! We wont ask again.."

Jean Grey folds her arms and tuts at the five. "I really wouldn't test us. So run along now before reinforcements arrive." She could sense Quicksilver was hastily approaching at his super sonic pace.

The Beast gets on all fours and roars, which could be heard across the park.

Pietro sighed irritated as he glanced back over at the clock, 10 pm. Once again all he could do was regret making it to the bar so quickly as the rest of his friends were apparently taking their sweet time. Sure Pietro could of just borrowed one of Xavier's cars and just drove to the sleazy bar like a normal person. But that wasn't Pietro's style at all. Plus just sitting in New York City traffic would've been worst. Gritting his teeth Pietro ran fingers though his chocolate brown hair as he glanced around. It was hard to explain it to someone who didn't understand. But while they were all suppose to meet up around 10, even just the few minutes of waiting was killing the Eastern European.

Finally though they all arrived, Pietro had to bite his tongue as he said his greetings to them while holding back the string of expletives he wanted to spew out for them making him wait around and drink down a screwdriver while the band was doing its last tune ups. For all he knew though Pietro's friends didn't know about his superhuman running. They have said they were completely cool with mutants in discussions in the past. However as Pietro would say to other mutants, “My powers are no body's fucking business...”

“Alright so what the Hell band is this?” Pietro asked, his voice still dripping with the Eastern European accent his always had, as the performers were on stage about to start. “They're called The Dazzlers, some group out of LA.” One of his friends called back as the feedback from the speakers hissed off of a plugged in guitar. The lead singer, a woman who looked pretty frail but dangerous enough to not want to say it to her face, stepped up to the microphone with a snarl.

“IF YOU DON'T LIKE THE SHOW YOU CAN KISS MY F---ING A--!!!”

“Ah she's a woman after my heart...” Pietro half-joked as the band started into their first song.

As the show went on, Pietro staying in the back of the club and away from the mosh pit forming. The last time he got involved in one it just ended poorly for everyone... well except him of course. He was enjoying himself until that tingle in the back of his brain kicked in.

'Pietro, I need you to go to Boston, Senator Kelly is being held hostage by the Brotherhood. Jean, Storm, and Beast are already on their way.'

Frowning a bit, Pietro finished his beer and had to fake a text message on his phone telling him that something had come up. As he left he glanced around the street before slipping into an alleyway and with a mere step started running. Most wouldn't be able to tell, as it only looked like a millisecond of a blur. That went through the city and back to the mansion Pietro now called home. When he got back it was very quickly down to the war room where he threw on his gear. It looked fairly different from the others, the blue sports shirt which went all the way down to his hands, the black athletic pants, and fresh Addias running shoes that were going to be worn out rapidly like so many before. As Pietro though was changing into his things though he watched as Xavier wheeled himself into the room.

“I know what you're going to say...” Pietro calmly stated pulling his shirt down and adjusting the loops that went around his hands. “But this is a battle I want. The Brotherhood is a stain and I want to be the one who cleans it up.”

“I never had any doubts about it Pietro.” Xavier noted as Pietro got to putting on his shoes. “But my concerns are how you maybe don't understand stopping them and destroying them aren't the same thing. Confused as they are the Brotherhood are still mutants like us. We can't consider them in such a way otherwise we're no better than Kelly.” Xavier rolled up to Pietro closer, getting in front of him as Pietro took a seat on a chair to finish getting his shoes on. “Wiping people out is what your father thinks is the right thing to do.”

Pietro eyes narrowed as he looked back up at Xavier. “Adopted father you mean.” Pietro didn't mean to sound irritated at what Xavier had said, but it still came out from the sheer frustration Pietro felt about it. How Erik was the only family he genuinely had until he came to Xavier's mansion, and it wasn't a family he wanted saved for his sister, where ever she is now. “By the way, how come I have to play catch up with them and run out there by myself?” Pietro asked trying to ease his angry tone. “You're not worried about me facing off against them are you?”

“Honestly not at all, I knew you were out tonight at that... rather lovely looking concert.” Xavier joked before getting back to business. “I didn't want to bother you on a night off had we had the proper amount of support. However Nightcrawler I can only presume has been kidnapped by Spider-Man, who Iceman and Firestar are with I can only assume.”

Pietro glanced over at Xavier with a raised curious eyebrow. “Spider-Man? The dork who the Daily Bugle hate? I thought he was on our side, why would he kidnap Nightcrawler?” Pietro asked genuinely curious himself.

“I'm not sure, but one threat at a time here Pietro. You're needed in Boston, good luck.” Xavier gave Pietro's knee a pat as he gave him an assured smile. Which did make Pietro feel comfortable about things. No matter how the others felt about him, Xavier could always make him feel like he belonged. He understood Pietro and that wasn't something the Eastern European took lightly.

“Oh and Pietro? Lorelei is there with the rest of the brotherhood, make sure yourself and Beast are equiped accordingly.” Xavier noted to Pietro who gave a nod and was gone in a blurry instant. Pietro had the shopping list in mind as he was on his way to Boston.

The mighty roar that only Beast could possibly let bellow out told Pietro he was close as the Boston Commons was not far off. Carrying supplies with him Pietro made a leap that cleared a large expense of land as he came in hard near the Brotherhood.

“Hey guys whats th...” Blob's momentary distraction led to him taking to the side of the face a baseball bat Pietro swung in hard. Pietro wasn't exactly concerned about the fatass' mental capacity since it wasn't like Blob had many brain cells to kill. The bat cracked and warped around the large cranium as Quicksilver dashed away from the rest of the Brotherhood and back around to his teammates.

“Sorry I'm late, traffic on the I-84 was a real pain.” Pietro joked dropping the broken baseball bat and pulling out ear plugs for himself and tossing another pair to Beast who instinctively caught them while eyeing the dropped baseball bat both worringly and curious.

“Where exactly did you get that Pietro?” Beast asked.

“Oh I stopped by Fenway park on my way here.” Pietro responded only to see and feel all eyes on him. “What? I only borrowed it and will promptly give it back. Though I think David Ortiz is going to be pissed I used it to cave a fat guy's skull in.”



The next day

Stark Tower – 8:21 am

It was amazing how even with a good night's sleep Tony Stark was still exhausted as he pulled the white Audi R8 spyder into his personal parking space. Groaning slightly Tony stretched his arms out a bit as he got out of the car turning on its alarm and strolling to the personal elevator out of the underground parking and into work.

Granted he wasn't really that surprised why he was so tired. It is something you can expect with the night he had last night. Normally the yearly Charity Ball was either a crazy bore or something he made interesting through sheer willpower and an uncivilized method or two. This year though it certainly was made interesting through snakes and magic and whatever Hell else was going on. Perfect timing considering the armor and the fact that it got to make a great first impression if the morning news was anything to go by.

As the doors opened Rhodes was right there waiting for him as usual, clad in a nice suit which clashed with Tony's jeans and his t-shirt...



Tony's fashion sense always got a look of shame from James, and how the young billionaire handled it was usually of the usual snarky nature. In this case asking to make sure “There's no space invaders coming today right? Then I don't look like a space-ist. Lets move onto business.”

“Well lets not even get into that. I hope you're alright after everything that happened last night.” James asked as the two strolled through the building checking out some areas of note for the day.

“How could I not be? The party last night was out of contrrrooooolllll.” Tony threw up duel devil horns as he said it. “Seriously I got to rip a giant serpent's head off. I can't say I ever imagined doing that.” Tony felt guilty about making light of what happened last night considering the Parringtons' had part of their home completely wrecked. “Well I mean I made sure people are there to help start cleaning everything up. Hopefully it won't take too long.”

“Yeah about that actually...” Rhodes asked, paused causing Tony to stop walking as well. “What exactly happened anyways?”

Tony tried to make sense of it all in his own head. “Well... some lady showed up and was bugging Victoria and I guess made the snakes appear. Some other guy had a magical sword looking thing and really its tough to say. I mean honestly it was all so sudden I never had time to even try processing it.” Tony scratched his head as his mind jogged around the events of the night before. If there was something he hated it was not knowing something. So with all this supposed 'magic' he was stumped and a bit peeved about it.

Still Tony had business to get back into sinking his teeth over, and remembered a particular piece of business. As he got to his office on the top floor he dialed the receptionist at the main floor. Plopping onto his large leather chair as he did so putting it on speaker. “Mindy its Tony. How are you doing this fine morning? Anyways if you see Stane coming in today let me know immediately have him come see me in my office. Cool? Cool. Thank you.” Hanging up Tony was suddenly reminded his own Secretary was going to be here today. It was exciting to know he not only had someone to watch his back, but it was Pepper no less. Someone he knew could watch his back with the best of them.

As James and Tony went over some of the matter the company faced that morning 9 am rolled around and Pepper Potts arrived on time and well dressed to again clash with Tony's slacker clothes. Tony and Pepper exchanged hugs and James gave her a hearty handshake. Tony getting out of his desk chair and standing while Pepper took her own seat. “Well its going to be a salary position, about 55 grand a year. Plus medical and dental insurance, stock options, 401k plan, a sweet office chair like mine. Nothing too out of the ordinary I suppose but really I guess I can't give you anything crazy given the position.” Tony thought aloud. “Anyways spot's yours if you want it. I'd have you do a job interview and stuff but lets be honest I know you too well and even James liked your resume and possibilities at the job. Which is amazing considering he doesn't like anything.” Tony joked as James gave him a stare. “Oh lighten up James I was kidding... anyways I was hoping you could start today and if you can I did have some things I was hoping you could nip in the butt for me.”

New York: 9:37am.

Morning came, and not a moment too soon. Thor flung mjolnir and soared across New York, landing on her feet with a sturdy "thud" right outside Stark Towers. With any luck, this would be dealt with quickly and she could kick Loki's ass before lunch. If her mind wasn't otherwise occupied with the multiple ways she'd smash Loki's skull, Thor would probably be contemplating lunch, and possibly Dwight as well, he'd likely be mad that she'd vanished after she sort of told him she'd be fine. After all this was over she'd find a way to make it up to him, no one else had been so eager to help her, no one else had been such good company for her since she'd left Asgard.

"Is Stark here?" she asked the doorman who was already trying not to shit himself after what he'd seen Thor do yesterday, the beating she could give him if he didn't give her an answer she wanted to hear.
"Top floor." the doorman replied, stepping aside to let Thor in. He immediately started slamming on the silent alarm. He knew he was no match for Thor, but Stark took security seriously, surely there'd be some internal system that would blast the strange blonde woman to pieces.
"Thank you." she replied, surprisingly polite since she usually smashed first and then asked questions later.
The doorman had caught her on a good day, at least it was a good day so far, depending on how cooperative Stark decided to be, the day could continue to be pleasant, or take a turn for the worst.

If she knew how expensive, and how high-tech Stark towers was, she'd likely have been impressed, however she had no idea nor did she had the time to appreciate the impressive design around her as she made a beeline to the elevator. She pulled the folded piece of paper out of her sleeve and stared at the slightly blurred image as the elevator continued its upward journey.

Loki. This one picture, a grainy, but not totally useless, candid snap from the Hulk-fight that had taken place only a couple of days earlier. The photo was taken miliseconds before she'd collided with the Trickster and this was the image she would give to Stark to help run the face trace to find him once and for all. If only she knew Loki had met Stark face to face only a few hours ago at the charity ball last night.

The elevator doors slid apart, silently, aside from the "ding" that informed everyone that the elevator had finished its trip. It was much better than the elevator at Thor's apartment complex, that thing creaked and squeaked with every floor and the doors screeched when they slid apart.

She recognised Stark, remembering his face from the news broadcast the previous morning, though she didn't know his two companions, a man, older than Stark, and a woman.
"Tony Stark. I would have words with you." Thor said, taking a confident step outside of the elevator.
All he had to do was run the search, this didn't need to get ugly.

New York, 9:37 am.

There were a couple of major benefits to staying in expensive hotels and one of the first ones that Loki often took advantage of was access to the hotel's facilities. Today he was making use of the gym, in particular the treadmill. He had never admitted it to anyone but sometimes he found physical activity to be rather calming. Running on a treadmill didn't require much in the way of active thought (beyond making sure he didn't break the thing) and after an hour or so of non stop motion he could finally enter what he privately called the 'Thor state of mind'- calm, quiet and devoid of anything even remotely resembling a thought.

After a minute or two of being free of the burden of an intelligent mind, Loki grudgingly started to think about the problems and mysteries that had arisen recently in order of what he deemed the most important.

The Enchantress...

Her continued existence was a worrying one as was the mystery of how she was still alive. There were at least six major different possibilities he was considering at the moment:

1. She survived Ragnarok and had been hiding out somewhere until recently.
2. She had been imprisoned in the Netherworld and had recently escaped from it much like he had himself.
3. She had been imprisoned in the Netherworld and had bartered some kind of pact with powers and beings far beyond the comprehension of a sane mortal human in order to secure her release.
4. She had died at Ragnarok but had made some kind of deal with his daughter Hel to escape from death in a similar manner that he had once (Though she would be hard pressed to offer her something better then Balder).
5. She had died but was brought back to life by person's currently unknown for reasons currently unknown.
6. The Enchantress was dead and whatever was running around wearing her face was merely pretending to be her for its own reasons.

The idea of what to do about her came to his mind and fairly quickly came to a conclusion; She needed to die. You couldn't imprison someone like the Enchantress for long and if she hadn't come to the conclusion that she needed to reform her ways after bringing about Ragnarok itself then it quite simply wasn't going to happen; At least not in a way that he was willing to trust as anything more then a ploy to betray those around her for her own ends. The only person she might have been willing to admit changing her ways for was Thor and until proven otherwise Loki was damn certain that he was dead.

Speaking of Thor...

Before Loki could delve into the mystery of the female 'Thor', his attention was brought to one of the TV's that was on so that those using the equipment in the gym had something to watch while they worked out. It was a news report of the female 'Thor' in question and the rampage that she had gone on the night before. Her choice of targets were rather interesting, but the last location she was seen at caused Loki to stop jogging.

If she had appeared at Stark Towers but left without breaking in (A change of pace considering her activities earlier that night) then it meant that what she was looking for wasn't there... Which most likely meant that she was looking for Stark himself. Sighing to himself, he stepped off the treadmill and started walking out of the gym, already planning to swing by Stark Tower's and keeping an eye on the place for when this female Thor was bound to show. Might as well deal with one of his problems while the opportunity presented itself.