Executive Branch; Flores Island the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean, undetermined time.

(OOC This is that colab between Byrd Man and I; had a lot of fun with this.)

Flores Island the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean, undetermined time. A calm morning wind blew through the idyllic little island of hills and mountains. The sky was clear as glass and nay a peep from any local wildlife. But as the sun beamed down on this small island a thunderous clap bombed at the island center sending a shockwave that sent waves rising up from the ocean and outward towards the sea. Those who could see what caused such a massive disturbance saw a brilliant flash of lights as a Woman garbed in what would appear as lingerie fell to the ground her left arm crashing into the dirt first as her body followed. Through the pain she quickly turned to see a tear a door into space time trying to force it’s way open. She had trouble entering this world someone capable had safeguards already in place and regrettably she needed to break through.

She laid her eyes upon the growing portal a vivid pulsing violet ripple and saw it was trying to force itself open. With each second it sent vicious shockwaves from its epicenter while bolts of magical energy lashed out against all rending earth and rock apart. She only had minute before it would become far too big for her to handle and acting quickly she whipped out a long staff imbued with glowing azure veins with a diamond tip and a blade attached to its end she held it towards the tear mustering her remaining strength to keep it at bay long as she could. She hoped that whoever set these wards up would come to her aid, or at the least someone powerful enough to help her seal this rift.

Executive Branch Headquarters
Mt. Rushmore, SD
Subbasement 4
"Nixonland"

"Kissinger!"

The short and plump frame of Henry Kissinger shuffled down the dark corridors of Nixon's study. Ancient leather bound books sat on rows of shelves Kissinger passed. Along with books were jars of organs and small creatures pickled in formaldehyde. A dismembered hand floating in the liquid tapped the glass as Kissinger walked by. The former Secretary of State ignored the hand's taunts and kept walking. The hand twisted itself to show its middle finger.

Kissinger came out of the corridor of shelves into the study's rotunda where all the shelves ended. More books and specimens cluttered a half dozen large wooden tables. A spider the size of a German Shepard scuttled across one table and disappeared beneath it. Racing after it was a spider of equal size, but it appeared to be made out of rope vines. Kissinger looked at the odd and unusual sights with bored contempt before casting his eyes up.

"Yes, sir?" he mumbled in a monotone voice that had a thick German accent.

In the middle of the study, floating cross-legged above the rotunda was Richard Nixon. The 37th US President's usual suit and tie had been swapped out for a set of dark robes and a hood. He started drifting back down to the ground, finally unfolding his legs just before they were inches from the floor.

"Yes," Nixon finally said. "Did you collect the samples I need?"

"Yes, sir." Kissinger reached into his jacket pocket and handed Nixon three vials. "One vial of pig blood, a lock of hair from a virgin, and the wart from Bob Woodward's backside."

"Good man... especially on that last one."

Kissinger shuddered while Nixon pocketed the samples into his robes. While his lackey shuffled off, Nixon hurried down one of the rows of books to find what he needed. He pulled a book bound in human skin from the shelf and began to thumb through it.

"I... have a dream..."

Nixon looked up from his reading and sighed. He put the book back on the shelf and walked through the study towards a large pane of two-way glass. One the opposite side of the glass was Martin Luther King Jr., laid out on a metal slab and mumbling and jerking in his sleep. Sweat trickled down his brow as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I have a dream... By the pricking of my thumbs something wicked this way comes. Yes... I have a dream that the son of the Republic will be found wanting by the void... From the mountains of Russia to the deserts of Africa, from Mississippi to Mongolia, we will see... Death at last, death at last, God save us all from death at last. I have a dream... "

Nixon stepped away the glass, wiping sweat from his forehead that he didn't know was there. He shook his head and stepped away from the now sleeping King. The communication device on his wrist chirped with an incoming message.

"Attention, Mr. Nixon," the young technician said over the line. "It seems we have a potential inter-dimensional event occurring in the North Atlantic. Coordinates are on your wrist link."

The line went dead. He checked the information on his wrist. Some island he had never heard of before in his life. So much for doing some light reading. Nixon ran his fingers through his hair with his left while rigging up an transportation spell with his right. When the spell finished, he disappeared from the study in a puff of gray smoke.

As the woman strained herself to keep the portal from expanding further unbeknownst to her a robbed man had teleported onto the nearby fields in the midst of this chaos as a bolt struck the ground mere feet away split the earth while the portal crackled. Bolts had struck her time and time again and she heaved and sweat mixed with her own blood dripped down her body pooling at her feet while she mustered all her strength and attempted to endure.

Nixon's eyes went wide when he saw the scene in front of him. Before he could react, some sort of energy surged from the portal and cracked open the ground. He hurried towards the portal and the woman trying like hell to contain it. He made a few counter-spell incantations with his hands and shot energy towards the bulging portal. Another wave of energy swept out through the gate, the shockwave knocking the hood from Nixon's head.

The portal continued to spew out constant magical energies as someone blasted the portal trying to stop it’s expand. The woman glanced over just as he began to yell, she was physically at her limits her body warn down not only from the portal but from what came before it.

"What in the hell is going on?" he asked the woman once he was close enough. He tried to yell over the din as she and him tried to contain the ever growing rip in the fabric of the universe. "This is a major transdimensional gate, goddammit. How did it appear here so suddenly?"

“I created this!” She yelled through the agonizing pain and a strained facial expression. “If you have time to chat help me stop this, you better be ancient or a higher class of mage; I hate disappointing men. God help us all if you’re not.”

Baring his teeth, he spewed out counter-spells with both his hands and mouth. He had only been a mage for just over twenty years, but in those two decades he had soaked up every bit of arcane knowledge he could possibly learn. His rejuvenated body kickstarted that old ambition that had taken him from a decrepit lemon farm in California all the way to the Oval Office. There was nothing he couldn't do when he put his mind to it, magic included. Now there were few on this plain as well-versed as he in the magical arts.

"I can feel it buckling," he shouted. "Keep going!"

The woman sneered at the man’s less than stellar attempts at casting arcane spells, no Grimore and certainly no imbued artifacts. She viewed him as a novice playing with forces he did not understand yet at present he was proving capable and that vexed her to no end. And furthermore in her state she couldn’t sustain herself any longer a choice must be made one she balked at but one all too necessary. Reaching for a small pouch just under her sheer robe she reached for a book and begrudgingly tossed it to the unknown man.

“I expect it back child!! It’s pages are too much to bear for any normal man. The Arcanium Magisterium is a powerful grimore had I still my vigor I’d never trust you with such an artifact but I no longer have any energy to go on.” The woman casting a quick spell without uttering a word flips the pages until they land on a single entry.

“I expect a child such as yourself capable enough to cast the chant. Read that page and only that page least your mind be torn asunder.” She said as the staff she carried finally dimmed and a bolt threw her back scarring her chest with a gaping wound. The book itself beamed with powers few who read these pages lived and fewer still retained their sanity or at least that was the feeling the book gave off.

He cut his eyes at the woman. If this were another time and scenario, she would learn all about his power. For now, he glanced down at the powerful book and read the words on the page, written in an ancient language, and spoken in an ancient tongue. He continued reading even as the tempest increased all around them, even as his new compatriot was struck by a bolt of magic. He had to keep pressing forward, for once the chant was started it would be devastating to end it. The spells from this unholy book had a way of taking on a life of their own. The portal was already a major problem, the last thing they needed was more.

As the unknown man chanted the spell from a bygone era the portal whilst expanding appeared to fluctuate collapsing in on itself and bulging as it tried to rebound from the old magic poured out in force; a power so overwhelming that even the caster must be feeling the aftereffects. As the words left his lips and echoed through the air lights like thousands of fireflies drifted from the pages the light had a soft warmth to it as the dots of lights floated upwards smashing against the tear in space as if there was a wall being repaired each time a dot of light impacted the portal. It was a sight to behold as the portal shrank and undulated until it ceased to simply exist as a bricklayer would seal off the final layer of a mighty wall so too did the tear be sealed as the last word spoken echoed off into the distance.

The woman laid on the ground far from the portal as her hand lay over her wound. “The book. Return it at once! So help me if you don’t I have ways of forcing you.” As she cursed through her teeth a splurt of blood splattered the ground before her. “The book, don’t be tempted by it’s power, save should you unleash worse upon this world.”

"Take the goddamn thing," he said as he dropped the book on the ground.

He wiped a thick layer of sweat from his face and slung it to the ground. That book. It was real power. That was what he craved the most, all his life he had wanted more and more and more. And now in his afterlife, he wanted it even worse. But that book was something else. It was the type of object that could bend you to its will if you weren't careful. It was a thing with a soul, and that soul was a wicked one.

The woman quickly snatched the book carelessly tossed to the ground and pocketed it into her small pouch. She looked up at him as he spoke.

"And you need to be healed," he said as he observed the wounded woman.

“A night is all I need, once I regain my magic I can heal myself.” Taking a moment to finally look around, she saw the destruction the event had caused and the calm skies of this new world. “Where am I. This world which Earth is this?”

"Last I remember, this Earth's designation in the multiverse branch is C09-A16H."

Nixon slipped his hood back on his head and slipped his hands into the drooping sleeves of his robes.

The woman took a moment to think, she knew other multiverses and had been to a few herself time to time. But this one had an odd feeling to it, like she had been here already. Yet in all her thoughts she could not place it anywhere among them.

"As to your wounds, I can provide refuge for the night in friendly confines."

The offer of refuge was tempting although she knew nothing of the man before her, he had at least proven himself a possible ally if only for her to use later. “Refuge from a man I do not know, I may be many things but I never sleep with a stranger who doesn’t seem to be overly concerned where or why I came here. Although I didn’t intend to come here per se as I had no time to enter a specific destination before my universe ceased to exist; unfortunately that led to the unstable collapse of the portal since there was no longer another universe on the other side, a black hole essentially. But for the moment Child a place to rest might be good. Consider yourself honored to know my name, I am the great Merlin, the Boar’s Sin of Greed.”

Inside the confines of Nixonland, the 37th president of the United States conjured up a pair of plush chairs for himself and his guest. Somewhere behind him Henry Kissinger scuttled off to fix tea for his master and his master's guest. Nixon motioned to one of the chairs in front of them.

Merlin looked about, an amateur's study at best but these things these walls they were different from the construction that she knew. The teleportation was quick disappearing in a puff of smoke, a child's trick easily mastered but handy nonetheless. The furniture he conjured was unlike anything she had ever seen, as she swiped her hand across it's lush fabric. "I might like this world." She said with a devious smile.

"Welcome to my sanctuary. Sit, please. I have some questions."

(OOC Merlin probably won't be making another appearance for a while. Not until I need her, this was more or less an elaborate introduction. I talked to the GMs, and came to the conclusion that I will most likely need my own Merlin at times.)

“What are you?” Icon asked as Umbraxis prepared to strike back.

"Tsk, this question again," Umbraxis sighed, its body reforming from the solid hits from Icon. "It seems that everyone on this planet is more worried about what I am rather than what I can do.” Its white orbs locked with Icon’s as it responded to his strikes in kind, reaching out with a shadowy hand to grab hold of Icon’s neck, it’s strength far more terrifying than its wispy form led on to believe, crushing at the hero’s windpipe before a twist of its form sent the hero hurtling through the air through a nearby car, bouncing out of the other side and coming to a standing halt.

“However, to answer your question, I can only tell you that I am Umbraxis.” It replied, stepping through the truck nonchalantly as Icon got back to his feet. “If you want something more specific, then I’m afraid you are going to be left wanting. I can’t tell you what I am because you would have no frame of reference for it, nor would you have comprehension to imagine it. There is no comparison to anything you’ve come across, because there is nothing in this universe or any other that is anything like me.”

With a quick gesture from Umbraxis, a portal of dark matter opened up below Icon’s standing position, a shadowy pillar rising up to slam Icon in the chin, hurtling him into the air. The entity followed up, another tendril snapping out of a nearby building to meet Icon’s trajectory, a shockwave erupting off of his back and slamming him back into the ground, cratering into the center of the street.

“Though I can see that you are no ordinary human either…” Umbraxis continued, advancing on the crater, an outstretched hand commanding a large mass of shadow to wrap around and lift a nearby eighteen wheeler, the metal screeching as it was warped by the nebulous grasp of Dark Matter. As it lifted the truck high into the air, it commented. “Let’s see where your limits truly lie, Icon.”

With that comment, the mass of Dark Matter hurled the truck down on Icon’s crater, intending to crush him under the steel.

.

Icon was hit square on the chin by a powerful blow that seemingly came out of nowhere, knocking him into the air. Before he could right himself, he was struck by another tendril, hitting him with such a force that the shockwave of the hit sent him crashing hard into the pavement in front of the ruins of the police station.

So, that’s what it feels like to be a pinball. Icon thought to himself as he gathered himself and got to his feet, only to find that the impact of Umbraxis’ attack had left him standing in a crater in the middle of the street.

“Though I can see that you are no ordinary human either…” Umbraxis continued, advancing on the crater, an outstretched hand commanding a large mass of shadow to wrap around and lift a nearby eighteen wheeler, the metal screeching as it was warped by the nebulous grasp of Dark Matter. As it lifted the truck high into the air, it commented. “Let’s see where your limits truly lie, Icon.”

Icon hardly had time to react before the truck came crashing down on him. He had barely gotten his arms up to brace for impact when the eighteen wheeler landed on top of him, burying him in a heap of crumpled metal and shattered glass. Then for several moments there was only silence. Suddenly, the wreck began to groan in protest as the front of the truck began to rise up as Icon lifted the massive vehicle off of his body. Icon dropped the truck back into the crater beside him and locked eyes with the shadowy figure.

“You talk too much.” He said as he made his way back toward Umbraxis.

War-Pulse was quick to raise a barrier around Angel as soon as the robot up, making sure the debris falling from the exploding ceiling were met with a wave of force instead of a fleshy twenty-something. Of course, what met the barrier was a wave of fire from when the robot was commanded by the young technopath to explode, causing the merc to grunt from the small wave of the explosion before the two men traveled up through the hole made for them.

“Well...I can judge by the gesture that you didn’t get caught here without a fight.” War-Pulse said, a cheeky grin made out behind his facemask as he caught sight of the ATD, middle fingers extended. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same...hell I’d probably want a bit of payback in your shoes…”

Pulse’s words were only met by the sound of feet pounding along the ceramic floors, the metallic clacking of firearms being loaded becoming clear from the other side of the armory doors. “Unfortunatly we don’t have a lot of time before they start bringing out the big guns, so I'd put that idea on hold until you turn on the Iron Giant” He turned his attention to Angel, who was more than likely already heading towards his prized mechanoid. “You get that thing operational, I’m going to buy you some time. The second you are ready, you follow me out of here, understand?”

With those words, the mercenary burst off towards the armory door, he could hear the voices on the other side barking to get the thick metal door of the armory open so they could get at the two men inside.

Big mistake.

Bringing a shoulder forward, War-Pulse bashed against the security door, slamming it off of its mechanical structure and jolting outward into the awaiting squad behind it, slamming them into the wall behind it. There were more, however, a sea of men and bodies armed with heavy machine guns, along with more robots. They were coming more prepared now, these men were even equipped with heavier suits of body armor.

Just the kind of scenario a man like Trent thrived in.

The kinetic monster was quick to act, blasting the nearest man down the hallway with a right cross as he barreled down the wide hallway to the bulk of the reinforcements. By this point they were returning fire, high caliber bullets ricocheting off of the merc’s form as his fists and feet collided with the nearest bodies available, shattering kevlar and ceramics like it was stuffing and goosefeathers. He barely made it into the majority before began to be pushed back, the combined force of hundreds of bullets coming into contact with him began to force his body back towards the ripped through door. The mercenary laughed, his arms wrapping across his body as he crackled and hummed with power, blue light emanating from him as his feet slid across the ground.

“Come on you bastards! I thought STRIKE was supposed to be tough!” He yelled out, punctuating his remark with a kinetic wave, the energy bolt crackling through the air before colliding with the entire front line, sending a wave of troops head over heels through the air. The mercenary followed up quickly, locking down the now-open hallway with a kinetic barrier, bullets bouncing off of a transparent wall of force between him and the oncoming reinforcements.

This was still small fry. In Pulse’s head he knew this as he forced the kinetic barrier forward, as much as he talked trash, he knew STRIKE was still reeling from the initial result, but there was not much more time before Anderson would call in someone who could actually fight back.

“Hey kid! The sooner you can reboot your Jaeger wannabe the better!” War-Pulse shouted, twisting his body to deliver an explosive energy ball into a robot who was getting too close to eh barrier, its head exploding on contact. “I swear, if you put that thing on Windows Vista I am gunna be pissed!”

“Hello? Anyone there?” Jeffery Zimmerman shouted out into the darkness. As far as his eyes could see, there was a pitch blackness that shrouded the surrounding area, wherever that area was. In fact, he could not even see his own hand, even if it were inches away from his hands. There was a biting, chilling breeze flowing through the air. Not enough to make the young man uncomfortable, but just enough to make it feel nippy. Jeffery was terrified to move a single inch because he did not know where he was going. What if he were to fall off a cliff or sink into a deep lake? There was no way for him to know if something was coming in his path.

In fact, Jeffery was not sure how he got into this abysmal place. Last thing he remembered was the mummy arising from its sarcophagus and stumbling slowly over towards his fellow archaeologists. Then a purple light engulfed him for a moment. Once the purple light was gone, Jeffery could only see darkness and could only hear an almost deafening silence. However, the young archaeologist was not quite sure he was pleased to hear that silence broken.

“Jeffery Zimmerman.” An eerie voice cried out in the distance. When Jeffery turned to see what was the source of that voice, all that he could see were two purple, glowing eyes piercing through the darkness.

Jeffery could feel a chill run down his spine. He did not know whether he should acknowledge the voice because whatever had just called out to him knew his full name. Was it something hostile?

“Jeffery Zimmerman,” The voice called out again, “I know you are there. For I can sense the aura of your living soul.”

Now Jeffery was freaking out. Sensing one’s soul? Where the hell was he? The better question was what was speaking to him? As the seconds melted away while Jeffery waited in the blinding darkness, the two purple eyes slowly crept forward. Once these beacons of purple light had gotten closer, Jeffery could discern a face on which those eyes were attached. However, the terrified archaeologist realized that this person did not have a normal flesh tone, since it was green.

With every step this being took, the more clear his appearance became. His chin was covered with what would have been known as an Egyptian fake beard that is usually seen in depictions of the Pharaohs. On his head rested a white hedjet that was flanked with two ostrich feathers. Even with the darkness, the white of the being’s headgear and his garments began to shine despite the lack of light. The man, or at least he was anthropomorphic, easily towered over Jeffery, or any human for the matter.

“You and your colleagues have unwittingly unleashed an evil upon this world. Even though the rivalry between my son, Horus, and my brother, Set, has been long settled, this sorcerer devoted to Set is ignorant to this conclusion. Due to your crime, you shall be put to the task of stopping this danger. Fortunately, you are an apt participant for this task. Just like my son, you have lost your father to the power of Set.”

“What? My father is dead?” Jeffery exclaimed, since he was ignorant to this fact until now because he had been teleported to this location before Sethotep attacked his other colleagues. However, the giant, green man ignored Jeffery’s cries, but instead he continued his train of thought.

“Therefore, I shall bestow my powers upon you.” Another column of purple light ascended from the ground and engulfed Jeffery. However, this time it was not for teleportation. The light pierced into Jeffery’s body, changing him inside and out. Once the pillar of light had ceased, it was quite clear that Jeffery, as he was a few seconds ago, no longer stood there. A falcon’s head now sat upon Jeffery’s shoulders. Golden armor now clung to his torso, while a white tunic was draped down to his ankles.

“Do you know what to do?” The mysterious, green-skinned being asked the recently transformed Jeffery. All what he received from Jeffery was a nod. “Then go, my Son of Osiris.” Then in a blink of an eye, Jeffery, now the Son of Osiris, used his empowered staff to teleport himself out of the realm of Osiris, the underworld and back to the Valley of the Kings.

“I talk too much? You’re the one who flew down here saying you wanted to chat.” Umbraxis responded, standing patiently at the edge of the crater, watching the hero chuck the truck like it was a ball of tin foil. “If anything, you’re the one who isn’t holding up their end of the conversation.”

Umbraxis waited and watched, observing as the hero made his way back to the Endless Void, the two white orbs bearing down upon the silver-clad idol as he made his way back. It responded in kind, pacing the . “However, if we’re actually fighting instead of talking, I suppose I can oblige.”

At its words, it brought its hands together, a ball of Dark Energy appearing between them. It was about the size of a soccer ball, a swirling obsidian ball crackling with blackened lightning, the sheer mass that was created caused nearby pebbles on the ground to tremble slightly. It brought its hands above his head, the ball of Dark Energy suspended above its palms before a forward toss brought the ball hurtling down towards Icon. The air around the ball almost imploded as it traveled, sucking in the atmosphere around it as it rocketed towards the hero. As it impacted, it delivered its horrendous payload in a sizable explosion, roughly the size to incinerate a two-story house erupted in the middle of the street, the force rocking the block. Icon would once more be thrown back, bouncing down the street and slamming headlong into another car.

It did not pursue Icon to continue an assault, however. Instead it waited in the streets, pacing slightly as it glanced to Icon’s impact point for any signs of retaliation.

“Of course, with that said I’m still very interested in talking to you.” It called out to the smoke. “Either way, there is much about you I want to know. Whether I learn it from your words or your corpse makes little difference.”

Icon was down on all fours, his ears ringing as a result of the orb of energy that had exploded against his body. Amidst the destruction that had resulted from the impact, Icon struggled to get to his feet. The smell of burning concrete filled his nostrils, and as he looked around, he grimaced at the destruction. The sight of overturned vehicles and burnt out storefronts made Icon even more determined to stop this terror in his tracks, he just didn’t know how he would do it.

As Icon got to his feet he locked eyes with Umbraxis, who once again prepared for another attack. However, he did not get the chance. The two speedsters had reengaged the so-called Destroyer of Worlds, running circles around the dark mass, delivering punches as they moved, a series of devastating attacks that would have rendered most foes unconscious. However, the attack barely seemed to phase Umbraxis., who readied to swat the speedsters away like gnats. Suddenly, the female powerhouse moved in and delivered a roundhouse right that should have caved in Umbraxis’ head. However, the dark figure simply shook it off.

A blue aura began to form around Icon’s fists as energy began to engulf his hands. He took off, launching himself at Umbraxis, firing a sustained optic blast on the creature as he rocketed toward it. Blue sparks seemed to fly off of Umbraxis as Icon hit the dark figure with a right hand that had the power of a speeding freight train behind it. Icon followed up with another hard punch, and then another. Icon pulled back his arm, and swung with a wild haymaker that took Umbraxis off his feet, if only for an instant.

“Let’s take him.” Icon said to the surviving team members. “Together.” Icon finished as Umbraxis advanced on them.

Harvey was no stranger to violence. He was one of Lost Haven's finest, after all. But he had never seen a scene as grotesque or as gruesome in all of his days as the one unfolding before him. The massive, headless corpse of Demolition had collapsed into the police station, smashing a third of the structure underneath his massive cadaver. Blood poured out from his throat where the head had been severed from the poor fool's shoulders and threatened to flood what little remained of Lost Haven Central. A few surviving police officers were digging out an intern trapped underneath a pile of rubble nearby. Supercell was attempting to remove the dark matter spikes from Skull-Thrasher's now limp body. Aban Ali Sahar assured Boom that Skull would be fine; he only needed to regenerate the missing chunks of brain tissue to be revived. Skyquake pulled herself out of the totaled police cruiser Umbraxis had thrown her into. She didn't stop to mourn her fallen friends, instead she chose to assist the police in saving what few innocent bystanders that they could. She seemed strong; but the hot tears streaming down her cheeks made it clear that she was grieving.

Thunderbolt looked at the chaos all around him. His ears were ringing, and blood dripped from his torn costume onto the dirty marble floor. Harvey's eyes followed the blood streaming to his feet. He'd seen so much blood today, he'd grown numb to the sight of it. After a moment, he noticed the pool of blood had obscured something written on the floor. The superhero bent down and wiped away the blood, dust and debris. It was the symbol of the Lost Haven Police Department. An eagle perched on a tree limb, inside of a star. Three words sat at the bottom of the image: Protect, Serve, Sacrifice. Thunderbolt's heart dropped. The heroes of Lost Haven had been attacked. Their home had been desecrated by an invader, who's intentions were so foul and sinister that no mind on earth could comprehend them. The worst part, however, was that it was Harvey's fault. He and his sister had brought this upon these heroes. They, in all of their bravado, had chosen a fight that they could not win. All that was left was to hope beyond hope that Icon could defeat this enemy before it consumed everything in its path.

But what if he couldn't?

Who would stop Umbraxis the Destroyer?

An explosion rocked the building, tossing Harvey from his thoughts like a violent tempest. He moved outside, catching a glimpse of Icon as Umbraxis laid into him. The sliver and blue clad hero was on his knees and struggling to stand. He looked from Icon to Umbraxis, the galactic threat preparing another dark matter attack. Harvey had seen what the last one did to Icon; it was likely he wouldn't stand up if that hit him one more time. "Boom!" Thunderbolt yelled at the top of his lungs. His sister ran to his side, eyes locked on the fight. "What do we do?" She asked. "We need to get tall, dark and ugly's attention before he hits Icon again. Perferably without taking a bullet in the process. You game?" Boom responded with a smile. "Let's do this." Thunderbolt took in a deep breath of air. Anxiety mixed with adrenaline, simultaneously clearing Harvey's thoughts and clouding them with doubt. The two speedsters shot forward, two trails of glowing lightning behind them. They unleashed a thousand punches a second on the villainous powerhouse, barely staggering him. They managed to distract him long enough for Skyquake to make her own appearance, delivering a devastating haymaker to his head. That one did a bit better than the speedsters' attempts, but only by a short margin. "Icon! Hit him!" May bellowed. Her suggestion seemed redundant, because Icon had already charged in and hit Umbraxis like a train crash. That one seemed to knock Umbraxis down for a couple of seconds.

Yay us.

“Let’s take him.” Icon interjected. "Together."

Boom made the first move. She charged forward, her fist covered in streaks of lightning, bashing Umbraxis in the face. Skyquake and Icon (presumably) followed behind her, launching an assault on Space Death. Harvey, however, stood his ground. He couldn't move. His heart was beating a million times a minute. He tried to dart forward; to join his sister and the other heroes, hitting Umbraxis with everything he had. But something inside of Harvey told him that he could do more. There must be some way to really put the hurt on this son of a bitch.

That's when Harvey had an idea.

Thunderbolt sprinted back into the police department, grabbing the newly freed Skull-Thrasher and Supercell and dragging them outside. "I need you to create an airburst powerful enough to contain an explosion the size of Hiroshima." Aban looked at Thunderbolt like a madman. "Are you insane?" He hissed, battle raging behind the three of them. "A bomb of that size could level Sherman Square and the Financial district simultaneously!" Thunderbolt nodded. "I'm aware. But if you can create wind forces of adequate power, we can trap all of that force within this one block. Theoretically, that would double the strength of the explosion within such a small area." Supercell shook his head furiously. "It ain't a bad plan." Skull-Thrasher added. "This block's already rubble. Just need your friend over there to clear any remaining civies and it might just work." Supercell looked between the two of them for a few moments, before finally sighing. "I think I can do it. Skull-Thrasher, inform the others of our plan."

Supercell slowly floated into the air, the wind obeying Aban's every command. The sky flashed bright and dark clouds formed over the battlefield. Rain drenched Lost Haven, a record-breaking storm system appearing out of nowhere over the city simply because Supercell told it to. "I am a force of nature." Supercell boomed. Lightning sliced through the sky, causing the sheets of rain to glow a brilliant blue for but a brief second before the light disappeared again. The wind started to pick up. It wouldn't be long before the wind reached speeds close to 600 miles per hour, double that of the fastest recorded natural winds. Yet the damage caused by these winds is minimal: for Supercell controlled every atom within that storm. Nothing happened without his say so. Buildings were torn to shreads, rubble thrown about in every direction. Boom and Thunderbolt raced across the effected area, evacuating every living thing in a dozen seconds without any injures. "We're taking off the training wheels, so to speak." Skull-Thrasher screamed over the roar of the storm. "All this has been child's play. Anybody can throw an eighteen wheeler around. But this? This is Vanguard baby! Oorah!" He yelled after explaining the plan to Icon and Skyquake (when they weren't busy being thrown around by Umbraxis, that is.)

Thunderbolt and Boom stood on top of a building overlooking the tornado. Harvey had just finished explaining the plan to Laura, who had responded only with silence. "We don't know if you can survive something like that." She finally said. "What..What if you- you die?" Her concerns were legitimate. Harvey had never pushed himself like this before. For all Thunderbolt new, the run itself would tear his skin off. "I have to try." He said. "I told you when we started that a day like this would come. A day when I needed to give my all, perhaps even my life, to protect the people I love." A tear rolled down Harvey's cheek, his sister quickly embracing him. The two held onto the hug for around half a minute. Harvey broke it off, taking a step away from Laura. "I've gotta go. It'll take me around...4 minutes to run around the globe and hit the bastard at full speed." With that, Thunderbolt was off. Boom stepped to the edge of the building and simply waited.

This would be one hell of a show.

I clicked our apartment’s front door shut behind me as I returned from what I would call an, um, interesting experience (to put it nicely). You always hear the saying that revenge is always best served cold. Well, I just received some frigid just desserts this afternoon. Of course there are worse things that could have happened. At least Danielle had enough class not to try to trick me into signing up for an adult film or something like that. But what I got wasn’t much better.

“Where have you been?” I heard Felecia ask me as I entered the apartment.

“Probably banging Icon with her…” Ashley began. However, Felecia cut her off before she could finish her comment.

“Could you stop? Let’s be real here. It was kind of funny the first time when you blurred it out, but after a while it just places a disturbing image in our minds that we really don’t want to imagine ever again.”

“Um…” I began, still a little unnerved by what Ashley was going to say, “Didn’t Kristin tell you?”

Right on cue, Kristin burst into the apartment. I actually didn’t notice that she wasn’t present when I first came home. “Sorry that I’m late. I got held up by this midterm I was just taking.” It took her a few seconds to realize that I was standing there. “Oh, Aubrey, how was your little ‘adventure’ with my roommate go?”

Then there was an awkward silence for a few seconds. Why did Kristin had to word it in that way? It made what I was doing ambiguous and, since we of course thought that Danielle was an ‘adult actress’, they could draw some very wrong conclusions from what Kristin had said. I was just lucky that their response did not come to that conclusion.

“Why were you with Kristin’s roommate?” Felecia asked me.

“Um…I kind of let the cat out of the bag about us thinking that she’s a porn star. Then she conned me into going with her to her work, which so happens to be contrary to what we thought it was.

“Wait, she knows that we thought that about her?”

Then I paused for a moment to think back to the conversation between me and Danielle. “Well, while she could infer that we all think it, I never said we thought it. So you all should be in the clear.”

Felecia and Ashley gave a sigh of relief. Who knows what Danielle would have compelled them into do if I had let slip that we all thought that she was in a shady occupation. Once that fear was dissipated, now they could turn to what I did that afternoon.

“How did it go? When will the photographic evidence be available?” They all three asked me, each of them having a toothy grin now that they knew that they were safe from any revenge from Kristin’s roommate.

“I didn’t have a photo shoot. That’s scheduled for later in the week. I only signed some paperwork and was fitted for the swimsuit. On that was a nightmare. I swear, by the time they found a top that would fit me, they were making up combinations of letters and numbers.” Things could have gone worse. Danielle could have signed me up for something like lingerie. But I still think she’s trying to get back at me, especially when she said, I quote, that I would be ‘utilizing me assets’. Why did I have to open my big mouth.

“Looks like we have our very own Kate Upton here! I’m sure Arby’s will be calling soon.” Ashley half joked.

“Thanks.” I said with the best sarcastic tone that I could muster.

“You love going to the beach, Aubrey. Just think of it like a vacation to a beach, except you have a professional photographer taking the pictures for you instead of one of us!” Felecia tried to chime in.

“I don’t think that those two situations are quite the same.”

The Shroud Syndicate and Mayor Sampson

(OOC Finally got around to getting that post out Nexus. Time to stop being lazy.)

Sampson had just left the set of the Dr. Wayne show rushing to his dressing room. It had already been too long since he set out feelers for Excalibur and he needed more men and bigger muscle to locate whomever wields Excalibur by force. He quickly entered his dressing room and with his thumb and pointer finger bolted the door with a swift turn of his wrist. Sampson took a second to stop and briefly examine the room before he whipped out a sleek black phone dialing an unknown number.

"Pick up, Pick up.." Sampson said as he impatiently tapped the toes of his leather wingtip brogues, something that he probably should not do with such expensive shoes.

In a few moments, a man Sampson knew as Davis answered.

"Finally. I need more men, good ones this time. I absolutely have to have Excalibur and whomever has the damn thing, it's essential that both are brought in intact."

"First off, it would be nice if you started these conversations with a 'hello' or 'how are you, Davis?', it really makes the conversation more of a conversation and not you shouting at me for the eleventh-billion time." Came a voice on the phone. "Secondly, with what freedoms we have, we're doing the best we can. The boss here keeps telling me that our territory keeps shrinking with all these new capes in town, it's starting to become more and more dangerous for us to ask around."

The man known as 'Davis' spoke in a relaxed tone, as if he was an agent speaking to his actor. "Secondly, if you need more men, what are you willing to offer us? Your last generous donation was fruitful and the mass arrest of our enemies allowed us to take hold of some key places, but right now we still need more if we're going to send more men to gather your scrying materials."

Sampson scowled as he let a smirk rip across his face. "OH! OH! I'm terribly sorry let me start over. Hey Davis this is Sampson, and I don't give a flying fuck about pleasantries. Our deal is simple, I scratch your back; you scratch mine. And right now I have a major itch, so what kinds of itches do you have? Because I have a table full of back scratchers ripe for the picking, that's how badly I want this done. Got it!?"

"Well, if we're talking favors, I think you and I both know what the Shroud wants, and that's taking care of this sudden metahuman craze." Davis began, talking in an insincere but polite tone, smooth in his delivery. "It is increasingly getting hard for our boys out in the field to...say...search for a legendary magical sword other unsavory activities when our gatherings and place of businesses are interrupted by some freak in a spandex and a justice complex. Under the law, you know they're as lawless as anyone else on the street, taking matters into their own hands and whatnot."

There was a pause in the call, a moment of thought for Davis before he spoke again. "Now, we're not asking you to hunt them down and rip them apart, we both know that's going to get you in trouble without any support. However, a bit of pressure, maybe if someone changes the public opinion of how people are viewing these..."Capes"...and maybe they'll think twice about donning brightly-colored outfits and shooting fireballs at us honest working folk. Maybe if we get these guys off our back, we can make a bit more headway on what you want. Do we have an understanding?"

Sampson smirked. That was all he thought as he spoke rather condescendingly. "I'd love nothing more I swear. These Capes are vigilantes, they can't be controlled, they can't be bought. You should watch Television more; just got off a show as I tried to swing a new law that'll force supers to sign up, quit or become public criminals. But it'll never get passed so long as Capes like Icon stop Demon invasions or saves the world every other week."

Sampson paused as set workers shuffled past with haste. "So we need to hit home with these supers. Remind the people who really keeps them safe. I've been working on a project called Stars and Stripes. Place former Military men and women in special task forces, and run silent smear campaigns regarding supers. Inform them about the number of serial killers, robbers and whatnot that get a slap on the wrist due to their interference. All the collateral damage and disregard for human life. That brouhaha with the News Copter would do nicely. Anything like that. The dirtier and scandalous the better."

“Well, that’s all well and good, Mayor Sampson, but there is a large difference between talking a big came and acting on it. We will continue to do what you asked of us, but until we see results on this front, there are few substantial actions we can take. Any ground you can give us will give us time to find your sword, but other than that you have to give us something to work with. We took a lot of time and effort to help you to where you are today, don’t make us regret it.”

"Davis, we've known each other a while now right? Don't question my ability. And I won't come beating down your door. Metaphorically of course. Soon Stars and Stripes will produce Heroes renown the world over, fighting for truth, liberty and our well being. Especially our well being. Have a good day, Davis." The call ended and Sampson tucked his phone back into his breast pocket.

"Smug bastards. No matter, tomorrow will be fun. And one day I'll no longer need them."

Staffers for the Dr. Wayne show were already moving set pieces in place for the next show slotted. Taking note of the time Sampson shuffled out of his dressing room and down the hall eyeing his assistant Julia Hewitt, a woman of average height with red hair and freckles dotting her face and neck, or so that he could tell.

“Babe. When’s this gonna air, I wanna know what the response to the show.”

She inwardly sighed due to her employers annoying tendency to call her sexist names. But it was a well paying job one she put up with. “Mayor Sampson. It should air later in the day, at the two O’Clock time slot.”

“Good. Record it. I like listening to myself talk. Also let’s get something to eat, by we I mean me. You can sit next to me and look pretty..” - Sampson stood for a moment as Julia silently stared back at him. “What Babe!? That was a joke relax. Let’s get breakfast.”

Chris has seen some crazy things in the past few months. A superman who can catch snatch falling space stations out of the sky, a demon invasion, and even a being that could alter the foundational atoms of all things. He was not quite sure where this would fit in that list: some ancient (although young looking) sorcerer fighting a bird-headed man. What’s with all the animal people? First there were the wasp girl and the raptor man, then his own sister became a snake girl (it’s quite sad that they already argue about whether she’s a naga or a lamia), and then that shark man! What could be next?

For a few minutes the two magic users brawled, mixing blasts of sand and wind with bolts of lightning. However, even though a clear victor had not yet emerged from the two combatants, Sethotep spoke first. “My [error – closest approximation, mana pool, magical energy] is not yet restored to its former height. I look forward to our future meeting, [error – closest approximation, Son of Osiris].”

Then, Sethotep’s body dissolved into the wind, taking on the appearance of sand as it rolled over the dunes of the Egyptian desert. Once their common foe had disappeared from site, the so-called ‘Son of Osiris’ turned his attention to Chris, who had just stood by as a spectator while the two duked it out.

“Although he does not seem like he was at full power, once he is, Sethotep will be back.” The Son of Osiris said. However, Chris did not see the man’s lips (or rather his beak) moving, but he could still hear him!

“Wait! Are you in my mind?” Chris asked, a little freaked out by hearing a voice other than his own in his head. Chris had thought he had seen it all, but nnow there is someone who can talk telepathically. In response to Chris’ question, the Son of Osiris gave him a condescending expression on his face.

“I have the head of an animal that does not have human vocal cords. How do you think I am communicating with you?”

“What’s a better question is who are you? And where did you come from?”

“I must gather together allies in order to make sure that Sethotep cannot cause any mischief.” Immediately after the Son of Osiris ‘spoke’, he disappeared into a column of purple light.

“That didn’t even answer any of my questions!” Chris spoke aloud, knowing that there was no one there to listen to him. After a few seconds, the metal-clad hero realized something else. “Wait. By disappearing without asking for my helped, does that mean he is not intending to ask for my help? What a jerk.”

---

“You would have thought that the Shroud Syndicate would have cooked up some metahumans who were at least somewhat competent in combat.” Odysseus taunted Zac and Kelly as he cracked his knuckles. The snow continued to fall from the sky as Zac and Kelly tried to defend themselves from this mysterious assailant. Even with their superhuman traits, they could not seem to find any advantage over this man. Maybe he was right about one thing. They were definitely not trained for this.

With his strong arms, Odysseus pulled back on his bowstring, aiming the arrow at the exhausted Kelly, who had been dragging Sammy around for however long they had been pursued by this man who dubbed himself after the ancient king of Ithaka. Due to her exhaustion, Kelly closed her eyes and hoped that her end would be quick. However, after the arrow was launched from Odysseus’ bow, Kelly didn’t feel the arrow strike her. Instead, she felt her boyfriend tackle her to the ground out of the path of the projectile.

A sudden fear struck Kelly now. Did he just toke the full brunt of the arrow for her? However, when she looked back up at Zac, she did not see the arrow. Instead, Kelly realized that the arrow had dug into the tree that was standing behind where she had been a few seconds ago. In fact, the arrow somehow hit the tree significantly higher than where Kelly use to be. What could have caused it?

A man with a falcon’s head stood between them and Odysseus, his staff planted in the ground. His other hand was placed on Odysseus’ forehead. From their assailant’s face, it seems like the falcon-headed man was doing something to his mind. What that was, Kelly did not have any idea. After a few seconds of this, the falcon-headed man removed his hand from Odysseus’ face, which released him from whatever trance that the falcon-headed man had placed him in.

“By Herakles! The Syndicate seems to be craftier than I initially have realized. Trying to use my as their own pawn.” Then he turned his attention back to the two young metahumans. “No hard feelings, right?”

Kelly just gave him an almost blank expression, showing her shock that he wanted everything to move on as if nothing had happened. He basically just assaulted her boyfriend, her best friend, and herself! In what world would that make any sense?

“Wait. What do you mean by us?” Odysseus asked the falcon-headed man, even though Kelly did not even hear him ask any question in the first place. The bird-faced man placed his hand that was not wielding his staff onto Odysseus’ shoulder. Then, in a column of purple light, the two men disappeared from where they had been standing.

“Wait. Are they just going to leave us here after he just beat us up?” Zac muttered as he tried to get up to his feet, although he stumbled back to the ground after his first attempt.

“And we still have to deal with getting Sammy back to the car. That Egyptian guy could have at least healed us, if he had the ability to do so.” However, as soon as these words left Kelly’s mouth, the falcon-headed man reappeared in another column of purple light and raised up his staff to the sky. Then the sun pierced through the otherwise cloudy day, bring down rays of light. The rays of light eventually shinned upon both Zac and Kelly, healing their bodies of any wounds that they had sustained during their fight with Odysseus. Once the two young metahumans were healed, the falcon-headed man disappeared for the second time.

“Okay, I hope I am not the only one creeped out that that bird-headed dude heard you.”

“Bird? Where?” Sammy suddenly said as she came out of her unconsciousness.

“Well, at least we know what will wake her up for future reference.” Kelly said to her boyfriend as she rolled her eyes that such a simple thing woke up her best friend.

It was a weekday night in the United States and countless people were settling in for an episode or two of their favorite weekly television series. However, the hundreds of thousands of Americans did not expect that their nightly entertainment would have been interrupted for what at first seemed like a practical joke. But when everyone realized that the live stream interruption was for real, people started to flip through the channels, which caused them to realize that this broadcast was being shown on every, despite what the channel owners tried to reverse it.

“Hello, world.” A man said who was shrouded by darkness. One could only see his silhouette from a red light that was shining behind him. “Pardon the interruption of your nightly shows. Don’t worry, once this broadcast has ended, you will be returned to your regular programing.”

“Our world has been struck by calamity after calamity ever since these metahumans have made their appearance known to the world. There was that mass murderer who was taunting a secret organization called S.T.R.I.K.E. There was the ‘demon’ invasion of Lost Haven. Now there is this entity called Umbraxis that has already started to pile up a death count! How is the normal person supposed to live in a world full of metahumans who can obliterate an entire city block? What can we do about this?”

“Well, there is one thing that we, as a human race, can do about this problem. There is a common saying in American colloquialism that goes like this: ‘If you can’t beat them, join them.’ Therefore, I offer you all a gift. A chance to equal the playing field. Our environment is changing and we as a species must adapt with it. Why should these powers be limited to only a select, lucky few?”

“Therefore, in 48 hours, a device in Lost Haven will emit an energy dome that will eventually grant superhuman powers upon all those who are within its borders. First Lost Haven will receive this gift, then the Eastern Seaboard, then North America, and finally the entire world! By the end of this week, the entire world shall know what it feels like to be special.”

“I already anticipate that there will be those who will object to the transformation process. However, I would like to show you all something.” The shrouded man extended forth his hand in front of him, which was holding a small vial. “Not long ago, my own team of self-created metahumans prevented a terrorist from depositing this substance into a particular water supply near Lost Haven. After further study, this substance would turn normal people into mindless, muscular brutes. In contrast, my gift will not take away your normal intelligence. In fact, in some cases it might raise it!”

“My transformation process will affect people differently. Some will immediately receive their powers once they are within the dome, while others will see the affects emerging after a few days. Everyone’s body reacts differently to the effects of my metahuman-inducing serum. And to ease the worries of everyone, the dome has been tuned so that it will only affect regular humans. There is no need to worry about mutant rodents or cockroaches terrorizing our homes. Furthermore, anyone who would otherwise be labeled a ‘metahuman’ shall not be affect by the dome, since why should I give more power to the group with which I am trying to level the playing field.”

“Others might ask whether everyone deserve these powers. It is quite obvious that there are those who probably should not receive powers for the public good. Since I have already anticipated this complaint, specific devices have been set up in certain institutions of interest, such as prisons and mental hospitals that will dampen the dome and prevent those, who would present themselves as a danger to themselves and our society as a whole, from receiving powers. Will this prevent all evil people from receiving powers? Of course not. However, I reassure you all that the number of ‘good’ will outnumber the ‘evil’.”

“Now, I know there will be those who will try to stop my plans. These are your so-called heroes. Your champions of freedom and liberty. Yet, they are also the defenders of the status quo, upholders of the current chaos caused by the regular person’s lack of means to defend themselves from the average metahuman, let alone some global threat. They claim to want to protect the world, yet they don’t want it to change. Without change, more innocent people will die. These heroes are hypocrites. They will sacrifice your change at godhood for maintaining their own uniqueness within this world. They would rather have you all be dependent on them whenever some catastrophe happens.”

After the man finished his speech, he reached over and pressed a button on something that was on his wrist. Immediately afterwards, the shrouded man began to grow, both in respect to his height and his muscle mass. Once the transformation had completed, even though the viewers could only see his silhouette, it could be clearly seen that he had a similar body build as the Kingpin from the 90’s Spider-Man animated series. The only difference was that his neck was so elongated, just like a giraffe or a sauropod dinosaur, that his entire head was off screen. He then twisted his neck so that his head would be up close to the camera. His head was still entirely human, despite his neck’s length. His entire head was shaven bald, while he was wearing a pair of tinted laboratory goggles.

“Welcome to the Pax Metahumana.”

“Hey kid! The sooner you can reboot your Jaeger wannabe the better!” War-Pulse shouted, twisting his body to deliver an explosive energy ball into a robot who was getting too close to eh barrier, its head exploding on contact. “I swear, if you put that thing on Windows Vista I am gunna be pissed!”

Angel smirked as the mercenary snarked at him while fighting. As he replied, his voice came through the speaker system on the mech simultaneously. "Jaeger wannabe? Man, there is no way those things would ever be able to work, let alone move, in the real world. You know how hard it was to make this thing move? Physics sucks, as a mistress to Giant Mech Suits."

The front of the mech unfolded, with the arms forming a ladder to the chest, and the armor plates slid aside to reveal the cockpit. "And Windows Vista might be an option. If this were an E-Droid from Robocop." Sitting in the ergonomic cavity, Angel held out his arms and legs, and like a mechanical glove, the ATD closed back around him, encasing him in metal.

As the light of the cockpit began to glow, Angel began to see with the ATD's 'eyes', and moved into a stance, not unlike that of a runner, in a 400-meter dash, or the like.

Equilibrium was back.

---

With whirring of machinery, and a roar of twin gouts of flame from Equilibrium's jump jets, the mech barreled through the hallway, jumping over the barrier that Trent had erected. While the amount of violence was impressive, Equilibrium didn't care at the moment. He was almost free again, and he wasn't going to let these S.T.R.I.K.E. goons get between him and the entry hole War-Pulse had made. His 'Merlin' shield wasn't up, but for right now, he didn't need to worry about energy weapons. Those bits of the S.T.R.I.K.E. arsenal wouldn't come out unless the base was under attack by a serious threat... Equilibrium's train of thought halted as a plasma bolt lanced past his 'head'. Huh. It appeared that the duo were viewed as a threat. No matter.

As he rocketed down the hallway, he unslung his 'Lancelot' shield from his back, and held it before him, taking the incoming fire on the shield. Crashing into the battalion of agents, Equilibrium paid the foot soldiers no mind, as they were all scattered like bowling pins, as he crashed through. Rather, the twelve robots coming at him with plasma weapons did. Taking a bolt from the lead robot on the shield, he revved up the DMS, which quickly accelerated up to the 56,000 RPM. Slashing it downward, he shredded the robot, with a shriek of sparks and metal, he turned to the next robot. There was no time to control these machines, and besides, it would take up too much of his concentration. Anyways, Equilibrium was let off like a cannon shot, and he had roughly the same effect on the S.T.R.I.K.E. battalion.

Kyle walked through the front doors of Brewed Awakenings and immediately knew that something was wrong. His co-worker Sarah barely acknowledged him as he entered the coffee shop. He went into the employee area behind the counter to put his jacket away and punch in for his shift, and when he returned to the main counter he was stunned by how quiet it was. Granted, the mid evenings were generally slow, but this was different.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Kyle asked Sarah. “Where’s Grace?”

“She’s in her office, she had some…visitors earlier. She seems kind of shaken up.” Sarah told him, her voice devoid of the humor that he had grown accustomed to.

“Who were they?”

“I don’t know, there were three guys in suits. I think it has something to do with the riots.” Sarah told him.

“The riots? But we weren’t…” his words trailed off as he made his way back to Grace’s office. Brewed Awakenings hadn’t been harmed in the riots. In fact, the riots only extended about three blocks south of the coffee shop. So why anybody would be coming to talk to Grace about the riots was beyond him. Something didn’t seem right, and he needed to know what was going on.

He knocked on Grace’s office door and pushed open the door without waiting for a response. When he entered the office, he saw Grace sitting behind her desk holding her head in her hands. Her eyes were puffy and her makeup was smudged, it was clear that she’d been crying.

“Grace, what’s up?” Kyle asked as he sat down across from her.

“I, I don’t know.” Grace admitted. “I had no choice, I had to sign over the deed to the building.”

“You what? Why? To who?” Kyle asked, unable to process what he was hearing.

“Don’t worry about it.” Grace told him.

“Grace, I can help you. I know people that can help with this, but I have to know what happened.” Kyle implored her. He knew that she’d never just sign over the deed without a good reason, and she wasn’t the type of woman to scare easily. Something had clearly happened, and he needed to know what that was, and who was responsible.

“These men came by, they said they were from the Renaissance Project. They offered to pay for general expenses and protection, and would just take 10 percent of the profits of the shop. When I told them ‘no,’ they threatened my mother. I had no choice.”

“Grace, I’m going to help you get out of this. I…I’m going to go and talk to some people and see if we can’t figure something out.” Kyle said as he got up and left her office. He went back to the employee coat room and grabbed his things before heading back out into the cold March air. He didn’t know anything about this so called Renaissance Project, but he was willing to bet that it was connected in some way to The Shroud Syndicate.

As Kyle walked down the street away from Brewed Awakenings, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. As he did so, he nearly jumped as the phone began going off in his hand. He looked at the caller ID, and saw that it was Harry that was calling.

“Harry, I was just about to call you. I have a lead, I need you to look-” he was cut off.

“No time, there are more pressing matters. Come to The Garage now, it’s urgent.” Harry said.

“What is it?” Kyle asked.

“Someone is threatening to unleash some sort of weapon in the city that will grant everyone metahuman powers. Get over here and I’ll fill you in. Hurry Kyle, we don’t have much time.” Harry said. He was uncharacteristically shaken by whatever this threat was.

“Great, some terrorist threatening the city with some sort of weapon…must be Thursday.” Kyle said under his breath has he headed off toward The Garage.

While he was returning back to the U.S. on his private jet, Chris pondered at the recently broadcasted television feed. While on paper it might sound like a great idea, the justification of giving every person on earth superhuman powers would require having an unnatural faith in human goodness and kindness. What would stop people from doing whatsoever they please? Would it really solve more problems than it would create? However, while contemplating over this issue, Chris received a video call from his secretary, Minerva.

“So, what’s the status on S.T.R.I.K.E.’s search for this device?” Chris asked her.

“Considering that we have no idea what the device even looks like, the search is going pretty slowly. The only thing we can do is wait until we can find it.”

“Not necessarily.” Chris said in response to Minerva’s suggestion of idleness. “I have been looking over some footage from both the recent event concerning Umbraxis and the Demon Invasion. Several heroes were able to unite together in the Demon Invasion crisis, so I see no reason why that cannot be the case for this, too.”

Chris then sent a short montage of the footage that he had been reviewing. “So, the first one here is quite obvious. Everyone knows who Icon is, so we can move on. However, even though I worked with many of these metahumans, I actually don’t know their handles, let along their secret identities. After Icon, we first have this cat-themed hero. I call him ‘Black Panther’, even though he definitely did not sound ‘Black’ when he talked during the Demon Invasion.”

“Next, we have this woman who has electric powers. I am dubbing her ‘Electra’. Not after the assassin, but a ‘feminine’ form of the Spider-Man villain. Then we have the two ‘Quicksilver Twins’. Even though they weren’t involved in the Demon Invasion, they probably could be a boon to our little team-up.”

“So, you’re telling me this, why?” Minerva asked her boss.

“Well, you’re wonderful at arranging meetings, even if I miss a good number of them!”

“There’s a different between setting up meetings with leaders of industry and with superheroes who don’t want their identities revealed.”

“I have faith in you, Minvera.” Chris supported this statement with a coy smile and a thumbs up.

“So, why isn’t that one mercenary on the list? He helped out at the Demon Invasion, didn’t he?”

“Well, since he has been in the public eye recently, and not always in a positive light, I would rather recruit him personally, along with some back up, assuming these other heroes decide to join me.”

“What about those three metahumans, whom you picked up when you went to rescue your little sister?”

“Well, considering our past history, they might not be as receptive to a team-up if we asked them, especially if we would mention my name. Particularly that ‘Spider-Girl’. What’s her real name? Audrey?”

“Aubrey.”

“Yes, that’s it. She probably would deck me again if I tried to personally recruit her. We'll probably have to ask one of the others to recruit them.”

“Understandable. You did kind of kidnap them and then allowed them to get away.”

“So, can I count on you?” Chris said, ignoring Minerva's last dig at him.

“I’ll try my best.”

“I knew I could count on you! I’ll see you once I’m stateside.” Once Chris had ended the video call, he then turned his attention to the liquor menu that his private jet’s bar served. After ordering his drink and receiving it, Chris enjoyed his flight back home.



After her boss had ended their video call, Minerva then headed towards the building’s main elevator. Once she was inside the elevator, she pressed the button that would give her roof access. While at that moment, it would not make any sense why she would want to go up to the roof, if someone were to see what was on the roof, they would discover the answer.

On the roof of one of Chris’ corporate offices, there was a chariot that had two horses yoked to it. As soon as she knew that no one else was present, Minerva reverted back to her true form: the Greek Goddess of Athena. Now garbed in her divine wardrobe, Athena mounted the chariot and took hold of the reins. With one pull of the reins, Athena’s chariot was skybound. Since she’s a divine being, the mortals below could not perceive a flying chariot in the sky.

Higher and higher she flew into the sky, until she broke the atmosphere of the earth. Then Athena turned her course homeward towards Olympus, in order to take counsel with a certain sun god. Through the Milky Way, Athena fly, passing countless planets, both uninhabited and populated. Only after a short time, Athena’s chariot finally made landfall on Olympus. Finally at home, Athena searched out for Helios.

“Helios, I have need of your assistance.” Athena called out. The sun god appeared on the scene, his head crowned with rays of light.

“And what can I do for you, Daughter of Zeus?”

“I need the assistance of your all-seeing powers for locating these metahumans.” Athena said as she pulled out a scroll that had the list of names that Chris had compiled for the meeting that he wanted ‘Minerva’ to organize.

Doctor Eric Saxer's Lab in Little Sicily, Lost Haven

Polemos' boot stomped down into a large puddle that covered the sidewalk, drenching his jeans in water. Luckily Chike's worn leather boots were adequately watertight and kept his socks relatively dry. The villain turned antihero spun around the corner, sprinting down an alleyway within his reach. He deftly hopped over a dumpster that dominated the center of the alley. He took a moment to knock the two ton trash bin over, spilling its contents in the way of any potential pursuers. Chike continued on his way, turning onto the next street and moving swiftly down the side of the street, vigilant of any patrolling police cruisers. The weight of the unconscious super soldier hefted over Chike's shoulders was barely worth calling an encumbrance. Chike bounced off the wall of an adjacent shop to avoid an unaware couple of teenagers exiting said shopping establishment. Polemos soared over the kids' heads, landing effortlessly and without losing momentum on the other side. The two pulled out their cellphones and started to record Chike immediately. His speed and agility was obviously superhuman, something Youtube couldn't get enough of.

Bystanders looked on as the strange meta ran at the speed of a cheetah, dodging around old ladies and single moms struggling to carry groceries, all the while hoisting an unconscious man in United States military fatigues over his shoulders. A number of individuals retrieved their cellphones; only one of them seemed at all concerned about calling the authorities. The man, perhaps in his mid twenties, spoke loudly into his phone, describing Chike in detail. "Damn." He cursed silently. His enhanced hearing allowed him to pick up both sides of the conversation perfectly. From what the dispatcher was saying, Polemos figured the police would arrive two and a half minutes before he reached his destination. What's worse, the serum he'd taken would be wearing off any minute now. If the police caught him out here in the open, without his powers, Chike was doomed. There had to be another way. Something Polemos could do to escape the attention of the cops. But what?!

Then the answer hit Chike like a train.

Or, more accurately, a giant hammer.

Chike felt his feet leave the ground. His vision blurred; but the distinct taste of blood and the spray of red that covered his face told him all he needed to know. Something really had hit him. Hard. He forced himself to sit up, leaning his head back. Once the pain subsided his vision soon returned. He was inside what appeared to be a pet store; only, there was a massive hole where the front wall had once been. "Urrrgh." Chike gurgled, spitting up blood. His ribs hurt like Tartarus. He wiped the blood from his face with the edge of his sleeve. What in the name of Zeus was that? Had Chike been hit by a car? Polemos stood, stumbling towards the front door, clutching his chest.

"You, mortal! You bare the mark of Olympus!"

W-Who? What?

"Dark-skinned man! In the stables! I address you!"

Chike pushed the door to the pet store open, the tiny bell attached to the frame ringing as he stepped outside. "Who are you supposed to be?" Stood in front of Chike was a man unlike any he'd ever met. The stranger stood at a towering nine feet tall. His thighs were twice as large as Chike's head and his arms were thicker than tree trunks. His most striking feature, however, was his hair. It was long; reaching down to his waist. And it was spikier than a porcupine. Honestly, Chike would have mistaken him for a Super Saiyan if it weren't for his hair being jet black. His appearance was made stranger still by his choice of attire. Golden armor and crimson robes, along with a golden two-handed warhammer strapped to his back.



"I am called Thune Xavior, of Aegis. I must have words with thy High Council of Magic." Chike gripped his broken ribs tighter, a bewildered look on his face. He had absolutely no idea what was going on. "High Council of Magic- Wait a second, why'd you hit me?!" Polemos yelled, shaking a fist at the giant. "Indeed. Your highest authority on all things arcane. I have information that is vital to their protection of this realm. Oh, and my sincerest apologies for striking you. Your energy is...similar...to that of an enemy of mine. T'was my mistake." Chike sighed. "Look. I don't know anything about magic or realms or whatever. But if you can take me home before the cops show, I'll help you out. I know a lady. Or goddess. Whatever." Thune's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Ah! You mean to take me to this universe's version of Olympus. Perfect! Surely the gods will know how to proceed. We are off to your abode, then, peasant." Without warning, Thune wrapped a massive arm around Chike and the unconscious super soldier, flying into the air.

"Whence are we heading, mortal?!" He screamed. "Take a left on Pine!" Chike yelled over the sound of rushing wind. "What is this 'pine' you speak of? I see no forest!"

"Just turn left!"

---

"Your ceilings are quite small on this world." Thune complained, ducking under the door frame as he and Chike entered the home of Eric Saxer. "Doc! Where you at?" Chike asked loudly. The motley pair of miscreants made their way up the two-story house's stairs, entering the crowded laboratory that made up the entire second floor. Chike expertly weaved his way between the various tables covered in expensive equipment and fragile glass vials. Thune, on the other hand, managed to knock down more than half the machines between himself and the doctor. Eric placed a palm against his face at the sight of it. "Who's this imbecile?" He whined. "Just..Don't." Chike answered sharply. But it was too late. "I am called Thune Xavior! I hail from the land of Aegis. Which god art you, might I inquire?" The big lug introduced himself twice as many decibels louder than what was necessary. "I'm the god of kiss my ass. Now, can we get to work? I haven't slept since yesterday and, frankly, I want to get you two out of my life as soon as possible." Eric and Chike worked together to strap the unconscious super soldier to the operating table in the center of the room. "Greetings, god of kiss my ass! It is my pleasure to meet you!"

Eric went to work poking various needles and devices into the test subject. He applied a breather to the man's face, pumping his lungs with a gaseous anesthetic to keep him unconscious. "Since when did you have a house? I thought you were homeless." Chike crossed to the other side of the table, handing Eric a syringe. The doctor began extracting a sample of blood. "Since I was twenty-three years old. I bugged out with the essentials when SuperIOR started hunting my colleagues. But, with it being so long, I figured SuperIOR wouldn't look for me here. The place is under a different name and I'm supposed to be dead." Eric took the blood sample and set it to the side, winding up a nearby machine. "What are you doing?" Chike asked. "Attempting to extract the serum from his blood. I'll need a deep marrow sample and some spinal fluid if I want a complete picture of what we're working with. But I don't have the equipment for that. So, I'll need to do some shopping on the black market for the required materials to build my own. Until then.." Eric wiped his hands clean with a sigh. "We wait."

"Who's the big guy?" Ceri appeared from the top of the stairs, sauntering over to Eric and Chike. "He calls himself Thune Xavior. He seems to think he's from a parallel universe. He keeps going on about dimensional rifts and magic high councils; probably just crazy. What do you think?" Ceri looked at him for a moment before turning back around. "He's kinda cute." Chike gave Ceri the dirtiest look he could muster. "On his story." He growled. "Well, it's certainly within the realm of possibility. But inter-dimensional travel isn't exactly my area of expertise. I'm more of a charms and hexes kind of girl. I'll see if I can pick up any tomes on the subject next time I'm out and about."

Ceri stopped speaking. She looked over at Eric, who's eyes were glued to a small television in the corner of the room. "Turn it up." He ordered. Chike grabbed the remote and did so.

“Well, there is one thing that we, as a human race, can do about this problem. There is a common saying in American colloquialism that goes like this: ‘If you can’t beat them, join them.’ Therefore, I offer you all a gift. A chance to equal the playing field. Our environment is changing and we as a species must adapt with it. Why should these powers be limited to only a select, lucky few?”

“Therefore, in 48 hours, a device in Lost Haven will emit an energy dome that will eventually grant superhuman powers upon all those who are within its borders. First Lost Haven will receive this gift, then the Eastern Seaboard, then North America, and finally the entire world! By the end of this week, the entire world shall know what it feels like to be special.”
...

“Welcome to the Pax Metahumana.”

The room was quiet. Eric and Ceri glanced at each other worryingly. "The giraffe man. He is a villain, yes?" Thune asked, breaking the silence. "Yes, Thune. Yes he is. And I'm going to stop him." Chike answered. "Perhaps we should discuss this. No need to do anything-" Chike grabbed his AK-47 from one of the shelves in the laboratory, placing it down on the counter. "-hasty. Such as that."

Eva stood up began turning off the lights, and shuffled over towards the couch to power off the television but just then the show; the Silver Specter (OOC Silver Shroud changed it so it wouldn't cause confusion with Nexus and his characters. Pie for anyone who gets the reference.) changed to a dark silhouetted figure as he spoke in a calm and rather disturbing manner. Arthur watched alongside Eva as this shadowy figure revealed his plans to empower the nation. “This will cause utter chaos.” Arthur said as the figure continued in the background speaking of how it would only affect humans and that jailed or instituted individuals have local dampeners of some sort to prevent them from attaining super powers. All around the country supers were undoubtedly watching this broadcast, from the unassuming suburban home of the Blue Beagle, to the small apartment of Man O’Tuar and his husband. All were watching and all were trying to figure out a plan.

Some like Mayor Sampson had already called the Police Officers under his control. The phone rang moments turned into minutes until a man answered the phone. “Detective Dynamo speaking..”

“You watching the news!? Of course you are, why wouldn’t you be?” Sampson widely assumed. “Actually no, I just sat down for dinner, we don’t watch TV when we eat. Hold on though I’ll turn it on.”

Dynamo clicked the remote’s power button as he caught the tail end of the mysterious broadcast. “What the hell is this?”

“Another Villain out to create havoc and mayhem. Seems like he plans to give anyone and everyone super powers. That won’t do, we can’t have more suppers running about. Get your team ready, I’m making an emergency press announcement in an hour. Stars and Stripes is a go.”

While Sampson plotted. Eva and Arthur had a lengthy chat. “Great, now the animal crackers are planning to unleash untold destruction upon the world.”

“This is good, I couldn’t have picked a better stage for you to reveal yourself as a new Hero. Swordswoman!”

Eva cringed. “You’re not calling me that are you?” Arthur looked taken back. “What’s wrong with that? Fine, how about Swordmaiden, or Warmaiden. You are a Pendragon, you must have atitle befitting of your status.”

“Wait that last one, Pendragon I can work with that.” Arthur stared back confused. “Well if you’re sure. Regardless training will have to wait, I need to contact Merlin right away. I should be back sometime tomorrow night but we should have help at least.”

As Arthur departed quickly, the Television seemed louder now that it returned to it’s original programing. Silver Specter; we have the location of Malone’s hideout. Let’s go! Of course Mistress of Mystery. Will the Silver Specter foil Malone’s evil plot? Or will he Ice our two heroes, tune in next week.

Icon’s mighty fist had indeed sent the Endless Void to the ground, the blow sending a shockwave rippling through the air as the shadowy form was sent flying backwards before sinking into the pavement. However, it was up on its feet again almost as soon as it hit the tar, its body reforming almost instantaneously. However, before it made an attempt to retaliate, the rest of the group was upon it. With Earth-shaking force the team resumed their assault on the entity, a flurry of fists, bats and optic blasts slamming into it in an attempt to prevent it from retaliation.

For a moment, these efforts were successful, the being was forced onto the defensive as it was staggered back from another haymaker from Icon's mighty fists, followed quickly by a right cross from Skybreaker and a flurry of blows from Boom, pieces of matter slashing off of Umbraxis like inky stygian blood. It was forced to erect walls of Dark Matter to keep distance, and seemed to be slower in its attempts to reform from each blow that did land. However, the success was short-lived, the entity responding in kind with its arm morphing to a thick and vicious black whip-like appendage, lashing out to knock Skyquake and Skull Thrasher back, the two of them bouncing off of pavement and sliding to a painful halt. Boom was harder for the creature to hit, its tendril slamming impacting the ground and nearby cars as Boom managed to duck and dodge out of the way. However, as it morphed the appendage back to a normal hand, it was clear Umbraxis had a plan to beat Boom’s speed. Its attacks had distracted her long enough to a small pool of Dark Matter to be erected in her running path, her lack of concentration meant she did not see the shadowy blotch in her way. Upon contact Boom was ensnared by a large shadowy blob, enveloping her and lifting her off the ground. With no time to consume her like it did with Demolition, Umbraxis simply commanded the formless snare to throw Boom with a gesture. With the force of a baseball pitcher, the mass expelled Boom, her body singing through the air until she came to an abrupt halt bouncing off the side of a dumpster and slamming into the wall of an alleyway before landing in a pile of refuse.

Of course, this left only the most threatening of the party, Icon, who was still coming strong. Super Cell was a little too far away to assault just yet, but he would fall all the same in due time. As Icon let loose his punches, Umbraxis met each one with pockets of dark matter spontaneously conjured before him, the hero's fist colliding with plate sized obstructions, which seemed to disappear when Icon withdrew for another punch.

Umbraxis had crossed its arms, watching intently as Icon attacked. While having no face to speak of, there was certainly an air of curious glee coming from the entity. Its posture was mocking, head cocked to the side while Earth's mightiest hero moved ever closer with each punch.

"I'll admit, you have far exceeded my expectations." It called to Icon, its white orbs drifting to notice the other heroes getting back to their feet and advancing on it. "Each one of you is something far more than your species should be able to produce...though some of you are 'human' in a very loose sense of the term."

As Umbraxis spoke, Icon threw another right hand, aiming for its cheek, now past the floating plates of dark matter, the punch found nothing but air, however, as the shadowy entity sidestepped the blow. Now within Icon’s personal bubble, Umbraxis leaned close to Iron’s face, his words becoming ever more sinister.

“However, my curiosity is beginning to devolve to boredom.” It continued before hastily retreating from Icon’s strike zone, narrowly escaping a right hook from the hero. At the point, the others had gathered back to Icon’s location and the group was once more upon the cosmic power. “While this has been fun, all good things must come to an end.”

With a gesture, a wave of darkness extended from its feet, enveloping the floor around the advancing party. With a raised hand, another sea of tendrils erupted from the ground. Ensnaring, grasping tendrils of inky blackness snaring the resistance group. While heroes of mighty strength were able to resist the pull for some time, eventually they were forced to their knees by the surrounding tendrils, grounded by the pull of so many.

Icon was the last to drop, the pull becoming stronger as Umbraxis magnified the density of his tendrils. It was slow to advance on the party, clearly taking pleasure in placing the group on their knees. It took a victory lap around Icon, swirling around him like a predator moving in for the kill.

“The game is over.” Umbraxis whispered to Icon’s ear. “You should have run, like your friend. Now you and your friends will join me in oblivion.”

With those words, another mass of Dark Energy crackled into being in Umbraxis’ hand, now standing before Icon with the energy now pointed point-blank at Icon’s face.

“Once you are one with the dark, there is nothing to stop me.”

Various

Harvey's muscles burned like magma. His bones ached as if they were aging a thousand years a second. Sweat fell from his pores, akin to a waterfall. Thunderbolt quickly calculated the amount of time it would take him to cross the world and arrive back in Lost Haven at full speed without slowing down. At a dead sprint, Thunderbolt could cross North America in 22 seconds. The earth's width was roughly 4 North Americas long; so, some simple math later, Harvey estimated his run time to be about one minute and twenty seconds, rounding the size of North America an subsequently the earth down. That was a minute and twenty seconds his sister spent with that monstrosity. A minute and twenty seconds of Umbraxis the Destroyer still drawing breath.

A minute twenty seconds too long.

Lightning spiraled around the speedster as he ran across the Atlantic ocean, spraying salt water a hundred feet into the air behind him. He was moving fast enough that he couldn't see his own sonic boom carpet trailing a thousand miles behind him, the height of a small mountain. The amount of air he was displacing had reached dangerous levels; he was more than likely creating tsunamis and hurricanes everywhere he ran. But he had to press on, and hope beyond hope that there were no stray ships between himself and his destination. He visualized a map of the globe within his mind. Thunderbolt guessed his current position and changed his trajectory to avoid running right through the middle of the heavily urbanized continent of Europe. Instead, Harvey hoped to cross through the desolate oceans of sand and dunes that made up large chunks of Africa. The jungles would've been an issue if not for the fact that his sheer speed would cut through any obstacle that stood in his way. So Thunderbolt continued to run.

He thought of all the people that animal had slaughtered. The poor, innocent and defenseless citizens whom he had so callously absorbed into his own sick, black flesh. He vividly remembered Demolition's gargantuan, headless corpse drop against the remains of the police station, flooding the survivors left inside in his own blood. Harvey considered how effortlessly Umbraxis had snapped the Herald's neck; a hero who could arguably hold his own against Thunderbolt. The forces which Thunderbolt and Boom battled so passionately, with such fervent vengeance and righteous furry, were more powerful than either speedster could really comprehend. But Umbraxis did not know who he was messing with. He didn't understand the complex nature of the creatures he dared to challenge.

I am no stranger to fear. No stranger to terror or horror. I have experienced the worst humanity has to offer; perhaps even the worst the universe could dish out, now that I've met the Destroyer. Sometimes fear can cripple me. Can bring me to my knees. Fear runs through my blood; and the blood of every human being on the planet, I'd guess. Some days I want to give up the mask and the costume and pretend that I'm normal...

But when you come against my country...
When you come against my family...
You try to destroy my people...

The fear is overcome by rage.

Pure, livid and utterly consuming. There is no power in hell or scheme of man that can overcome a man burdened by fury. Anger has no equal. It can drive even the most timid of people to stand in the path of giants. Rage transforms the kindest humanitarian into a violent and terrible killer. It is what makes me...me. What makes me frustrated. What pisses me off. It is uniquely my own. My identity. Not my fear, but my anger. So I will stand. I will fight. And I will win.

Tears streamed down Harvey's face, pooling together with the blood leaking from his eyes and ears before flinging behind him at mach 300. His mind was of one task now; there was nothing that could distract him. So when a pair of voices began to speak within his mind, Thunderbolt didn't even notice a word they were saying.

---

"How so very interesting." One voice said. It was deep and gravelly, containing power and authority few others could speak with.

"An engaging little story, isn't it?" Another voice, more feminine, responded. "He has managed to surpass all of our expectations. Through raw emotions, this...Harvey Smith...Has nearly broken the Lightning Effect Barrier. He might even enter relativistic speeds, if we helped him along."

"Hmmm." The original voice hummed. It seemed to be in deep thought. "His efforts will not be enough. Not on his own."

"Yes. He needs our assistance."

"We will give him access to his second form."

"Oh!" The feminine voice gasped in surprise. "So soon? Is he ready? Can he even survive the transformation?"

The voice took a moment to respond. But when it did, it seemed certain. "He will survive. He is stronger than the last avatar. Although his sister seems more capable, Harvey is more worthy."

"We shall unlock his second form, so that he may defeat this great evil and continue to grow and mature in his understanding of the Lightning Effect."

---
Thunderbolt's costume tore and ripped. Pieces of friction-proof fabric were shredded to pieces by the impossible speeds Harvey had reached. Yet he was going ever faster. The intensity of the lightning streaking behind him could be seen from orbit. Harvey could feel himself..growing. An extra three inches in height caused his costume to strain further, sending larger chunks soaring behind him. Fifty pounds of muscle appeared from thin air, filling out Harvey's usually slender build with a much bulkier look. A streak of bright blue hair faded into existence, temporarily staining Thunderbolt's head. Harvey's shirt was basically gone by the time he reached mach 600, twice as fast as his previous max speed.

The eastern seaboard rushed into view.

Thunderbolt's feet slammed into the water underneath him even harder, propelling him forward further and further.

The moment his foot touched solid earth, Thunderbolt felt a massive rush of energy absorb into his body. He could see Lost Haven now. He raced through the financial district in less than half a second. There. Umbraxis had the rest of the heroes tied down, except for Supercell. He was shoving some sort of energy attack into Icon's face. Gotta move. Faster, Harvey, FASTER!

All of the energy Thunderbolt had built up during his little jog around the world, and the extra power provided by the mysterious figures from before, added on top of the energy he had absorbed when he set foot on solid earth, flowed into the small surface area contained in Harvey's fist. That energy transferred from said fist into the center of Umbraxis' mass, immediately causing a chain reaction of events that would go down in history for millennium. Atoms were split. A mushroom cloud unlike anything seen since World War Two's end lit up the sky but was quickly subdued by the impossible weather conditions created by Supercell. The shockwaves created by the attack leveled everything. Entire buildings were atomized by the force of the attack. Heat and radiation attempted to escape throughout Lost Haven and render the city lifeless for a century. Yet, Supercell's perfect storm shielded the city from the threat and tossed the negative side-effects of the explosion into space.

A microsecond before her brother slammed into Umbraxis, Boom used the brief lapse in Umbraxis' attention to vibrate her molecules fast enough to slip out of the tendrils rather easiler. She immediately did the same for Skull-Thrasher, dragging him out of the explosion's radiance. She doubted his regeneration powers would allow him to survive such a devastating blast.

When the smoke cleared, the only thing standing was Thunderbolt. His body was surrounded by lightning, blood flowing down his now-exposed chest. In his closed he held a pile of ash he hoped was Umbraxis' corpse. (Although it definitely wasn't)

"I am not afraid of you. Or anyone else who threatens my world. If you have any breathe left in you, I want you to fly off to the next big bad eyeing earth and tell it this:

"We will endure."