Justine sighed as his corpse slumped over. “So be it,” she intoned. He had gone out cursing her to his last breath. How was she supposed to know? And by the look in his eyes, he knew he’d signed his own death warrant. She couldn’t let a rampaging psycho loose on the city, only to attempt to hurt and kill more innocent people. “Your fate was sealed the moment you put that thing on,,” she murmured as she stood, then picked up the mask, using her sword. A moment later she appeared in her room and grabbed her camera, taking pictures of it, only to flash back and take another picture of Bozo in his downed condition.

A moment later she put the mask into the concealed compartment for her blade, and hid it away, only to appear in the kitchen, near Racheli or where she had last seen her new roommate. Her eyes scanned the room looking for her as she sheathed the weapon.

Racheli felt as though her insides turned to liquid, or at least she thought they were, though it was impossible to tell through the icy grip her body was in. Her temperature continued to drop at an alarming rate as it burned her. Her teeth gritted to keep down a scream through more black blood seemed to seep from her pressed lips and stain her shirt front. The image on her shirt, whatever it was, became indistinguishable during her vomiting. The ooze now plastered her shirt to her skin while it chilled her to bone. Her hand still weakly gripped the knife and pinned it during her fall underneath her. Thankfully the weapon was flat on its side or else it would’ve sliced into her side and more blood would’ve spilt over the floor. She knew she had to get out of here. Somewhere, anywhere was a better place than watching those two idiots clash right near the kitchen. Already they had blown a hole into the floor, half blinding her, before they were sucked quickly out of sight.

Good fucking riddance, assholes. Racheli’s teeth gritted, nearly biting off her tongue in the process, against her cells seeming to rip themselves apart. Her body twisted weakly over to her belly as she began to army crawl toward the door. Behind her with every inch, Racheli left a smearing trail where she had been laying. Her shirt was plastered to her front and the blood marred the image, chilling her surface more. It only helped a little in getting her to stop sweating through her messy hair was drenched, increasing her desire to just lay down and die.

”I’m not...going to fucking die here,” Rach snarled and gave another push, her torso finally reaching the fallen door’s edge.

On managing to edge on top of the door’s remains, thanks to Bozo’s uncalled for force in his entrance, the sick woman flipped over onto her side then flat upon her back. She was grateful her vomiting had ceased for the moment. Her breathing was heavy as her chest heaved up and down, her head tilted back to clear her airways for more oxygen. Her eyes were leaking the same black and skirted down her face, turning the outside to greyish color. She knew, without being psychic, that she looked likely as shitty as she felt.

Movement stirred in the corner of Racheli’s eyes causing her head to whip about, regretting it the moment she had with hiss of pain. A man stepped into the scene, his features included dark hair, average build and the very same eyes shared by the woman laying at his feet. His image was ghostly at first, and gradually decided to take a solid shape and sharpened to be recognized officially by the two females in the room. Rach’s face paled to pure white on seeing her father standing before her. He was dressed as she recalled him last, in a flannel hunting shirt with a white wife-beater underneath. His pants were still stained with red blood from his latest victim as he lowered his face down to hover above her. His lips curled into a smile when he spoke in a sickening, fatherly voice. “What’s the matter Rach? You don’t look so hot, hun. Something making you sick, sweet heart?”

He reached to touch her head only have Racheli flinch and jerk away. “Git the fuck away from me, you damn bastard!’

A dark clad figure flickered into the room, the six-foot amazon goddess from only a minute earlier, this time a couple of feet from the edge of the hole. She coughed a little in the dust, glancing around, looking for Racheli. She spotted trail of black ichor and followed it to the door where she saw the other woman there, and then the man as Rach shouted. Justine rushed across the space, and reached out to grab him to create some space. Instead her hands sank into the shoulders and out the back of the male image. She withdrew them immediately, glaring, before kneeling down to Rach, ignoring the ghostly figure, to begin checking her over. What is happening to you,” she said. “Where are you going?”

The man chuckled quietly when Justine asked her questions, his head shifted about the room and sought a seat. It took him a moment or two before realizing all possible choices were too far to be within comfortable conversation range. Biting his lip a moment, Racheli’s father, Michael Garth, finally decided to remain standing at hearing his daughter speak. His eyes dipped down to study her crumbling figure that still continued to bleed out from her face and show clear signs of something terrible happening. His posture didn’t seem to be the least bit surprised at what was happening as the dark brunette ignored him, moving to check Racheli’s vitals.

As Justine gingerly too Racheli’s wrist, clean of blood, she replied as she flinched at the touch. Her breath was rattling in her chest with each word, trying to breath at the same time. “Don’t touch me. I don’t fucking know what’s going on, I wish I did… It feels like every part of me is burning. God damn it. It hurts. I’m trying to get outside… cool off.”

The mess that was once a proud, aggressive woman, curled up into a ball then hissed in pain.

Having stepped back, Michael ended up speaking while his ‘daughter’ was busy dealing with her agony. ”It’s too hot in here, it’s killing her. You need to take her outside else she’ll die, or to be more correct, we’ll die.”

Gabriel cursed his rotten luck after finally digging himself out from under the massive pile of garbage that he'd unwittingly buried himself under. He wasn't injured in the slightest, thankfully, having shifted to ARMOR function while he was falling, but the stuff he'd been buried under was heavy- heavy enough to give even his default form trouble, but light enough that he couldn't justify upping his ARTEFACT mode.

Not to mention I'd bring the whole building down just going up to Mode 3. He looked around at his and Bozo's handiwork. In particular, Bozo himself.

"Jesus H. Christ..." he muttered. Bozo was very clearly, most sincerely dead, blood flowing from every orifice. It seemed like a perfectly horrible way to die. The only question was, how the hell it had happened. He noted the raw flesh on his face where his mask had been.

"Fuck. What the hell happened to him?"

"difficult to say, sir," chimed Daedalus. "perhaps the physical damage is a result if that steroid i detected from the leak in his mask. hard to say without the mask in question. perhaps another meta stole the mask and inflicted this on him?"

"I'm never going to be able to tell without that mask. Let's head back up, see what we can find out." He floated up toward the hole in the ceiling, another realization hitting him.

"Shit. That girl. Can you still detect her?"

"yes, but... sir, her signal is very faint. without proper attention, she may not survive. and this location is far from ideal for the kind of treatment i'd need to give her."

"Shit. That probably means the Forge. She's not gonna be pleased with that, much less anyone else."

"the price we must pay to be heroes, i fear.

"No kidding," he commented, rolling his eyes. ”All this hero stuff seemed a lot easier when it was just a concept.” He propelled himself up the hole he'd made, wincing at just how many floors he'd ruined. He even thought there might be a gas leak on one of the floors, which was just asking for trouble. Soon, given his luck.

Remind me to wire some money to this establishment for repairs. Or replacement. he emerged onto the top floor to be greeted by the sight of the girl- Rach, he thought- severely deteriorating. Next to her was some… woman, though that was a poor description. She was practically some kind of supermodel, decked out in black and indigo, with a fierce-looking sword strapped to her back. And, considering the phase signature rolling across his sensors, the blade wasn’t just a conversation piece.

Must be the meta I sensed earlier. Before Bozo died. I’d ask her about that- particularly about the mask- but I’ve got more pressing issues to take care of, he thought, glancing at the girl on the floor.

"So, uh… I take it I have you to thank for Bozo down there getting a face job?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” the woman responded, turning to the armored figure now hovering nearby, a hard expression coming acrossed her masked features. On the floor next to her was the mask. She glanced at the man standing over Rach who said something to the effect of her.. .or rather ‘we’ as in plural that they were dying. And she needed to cool off, quickly. There was a sense of urgency to those words. Something that filled her with real dread.

Gabriel sighed. Obviously he hadn't made any friends tonight with his... activities.

”Okay. I know neither of you have any particular reason to trust me, but I need you to listen. That girl there, she's undergoing a traumatic genesis effect- she's making such a violent transformation into a metahuman that it is literally killing her. I have a facility where I could stabilize her, but I need to take her there now. As in, right now. I've been studying meta effects for over a year now, I know what I'm talking about. You can come with me if you like, to make sure I’m not just putting her in some dungeon somewhere. So... please, I need to be quick. She won't last much longer in her condition."

It was a gamble, to be sure, letting not just the transforming girl, but the as-yet-unknown meta come to the Forge, but he didn’t have a choice- either he got these women to trust him on this, or the girl died.

Her mind, that of an investigator and writer, knowing the importance of even a single word made all the difference in the world in meaning. The ‘we’ didn’t seem to be a coincidence. She didn’t have anything to back it up, other than the ghostly image, but … she was willing to operate a little on faith. I mean… she could do things most people couldn’t.

“The mask was killing the guy,” she answered as she looked at Rach, brushing black-ichor coated hair away from the other woman’s face. “I will take her outside. It’s colder, it should help slow or ease this process,” she said. One hand gently laid the mask on Rach’s Chest, and then immensely, supernaturally, inhumanly strong arms lifted Rach like she was a paper doll. “Change of plans. How far is this facility of yours? If it’s close enough I can get us there…” Justine snapped her fingers, meaning instantaneously.

Gabriel sighed in relief at the other meta's response. Maybe he could salvage something out of this situation yet.

"I suppose, 'not far' is a relative distance, given our respective... talents, but it's a mile or so off the coast. Deep down, like... Really deep. Keeps unsavory types from stumbling onto it, you understand. If you need specific coordinates and spatial references I can have Daedalus tell you what you need. Otherwise, we're just gonna have to fly. My programs can get us in quickly enough after that."

He paused for a moment, then remembered something else.

"Er... Also perhaps relevant, there's a gas leak somewhere on the third floor... and I think perhaps I should wait to apologize about that until we're on our way..."

Racheli hadn’t flinched when she was picked up or when her hair was touched, her body limp. Her weight was a few notable ounces lighter which was expected from losing the contents in her stomach and tossing it up across her front. Her arms hung downward with little to no sense of life to them. Her skin was already paling from its usual complexion, giving her a sickly look. Her head weakly leaned against the stranger’s hold as her eyes sagged. Darkness was swirling around Racheli’s eyesight edges while her body shivered uncontrollably, unable to hear the pair’s words properly.

Beneath the surface was still a boiling anger, but it was like water under ice: contained, but flowing. Part of her wanted to beat this man’s armor to pieces, or rather take her sword and dismantle it, and the meatbag underneath. She wasn’t going to do that though. He’d been trying to help, even though… Now both girls needed to find a new place to live. And well… her alternate identity might have been compromised.

The armored figure… his words seemed true. They felt right or had the ring of truth, and there simply seemed to be no time to waste on the matter. And, what he said lined up with the image of the man that Rach had been talking to. Two independent sources with the same information? It also seemed that the pilot of this suit had some knowledge… it wasn’t just a military prototype piloted by some jarhead, not by the speech patterns. No, probably a scientist, inventor, or engineer of some kind. Intelligent, for sure. Maybe he really could help. She was still acting on faith… and she didn’t exactly have the time to compel the truth out of him. Either, he would do what he said, or he would not. There wouldn’t be any room for gray or waffling on the matter. It was simplistic, maybe. But right now, simple was what it would have to be. No decision made in real-time in the field was ever perfect anyway. Better to adapt as things happened. Hell, she hadn’t known her apartment was going to get blown apart when she had been drinking her morning cappuccino.

“You might want to hurry.” Michael stated, his eyes studying Racheli. His figure had stepped closer until he was lingering just outside Justine’s personal space as his head darted, mildly amusement on his face, from one talking individual to the next. Neither one knew exactly was going on and he was only required to state the minimal. At least until the right questions were asked. His mind was not surprised neither human bothered to address him, likely because of his semi-ghost appearance. However, he needed to be careful how much information he gave else they would’ve allowed the host to die. Save thousands by sacrificing the one in theory and harmed his ability to live out his revenge, his lips frowning a bit then vanished a second later at the thought.

”She isn’t going to last much longer and if she passes out. Her survival rate drops considerably,” He pointed out while stepping back, his body edged toward the door. His head looked at the armor a moment and seemed to absorb a fact before casting it away for later. ”As for the genesis effect, yes you are correct. It’s thanks to a virus she ended up contracted over several hours ago from a dead blood relative. She’s been hosting it since her flight which showed symptoms of a ‘common’ flu until recently. Through it’s not contagious...yet. However, I’m afraid to say I’ve not managed to find any suitable hosts to inhabit yet.”

He paused just outside the frame door as if trying to suggest where to go. ”At this rate, she’s going to be another notch in my recent history. Through if she attacks you, then it would be best to know she’s not in her right mind when she does. Merely trying to get me another body before hers burns out.”

Gabriel flinched at a male voice reverberating through the room, finally realizing there was another individual in their midst. Or... was there? Gabriel's brow knit in confusion- now that he'd noticed the man, he could see him just fine, but... that was the extent of his awareness. No biometrics, no vital signs, no thermal signature... the man was a living hole in his awareness, an empty void. All he could read off of him was a faint phase signature.

Okay... That's disconcerting. Even more so because, now that he could actually hear the man speaking, what he was saying was... troubling, to say the least.

Suitable hosts? Virus? None of what he was saying was particularly comforting, made all the more distressing by his complete ghosting of his sensors. And how does he know all of this, anyway? He doesn't seem the scholarly type, he thought, giving him a once-over. Well... if he does know how to keep her from deteriorating any further, may as well take advantage of it. He doesn't seem any more keen on her dying than the rest of us.

"All right then, sir, what do you suggest we do? Assuming, of course, you really are acting in the interest of keeping her alive."

’Of course I am, if she dies so do I. I’m not a virus that can survive being airborne for long,” Michael admitted, through he was partly lying in his words. He couldn’t survive at all in the air but rather through touch. However he knew if he had stated that outright then his current saviors might consider letting the girl die. The mental projection shuffled slowly backwards until his back was pressed against the wall right beside the now empty door frame. He crossed his arms and became comfortable out of habit, his actions based on the information about the individual’s behavior he was currently projecting. It was easy to gain through her memories as he could access her brain stem and the memory cells within it,”so first off, you need to cool her down. Quickly as possible as the virus, aka me, is currently altering her insides to become a place I can survive. However I’m more adjusted to deep space environments which are very cold. This room is a furnace compared to what I need. So, her body is trying to cool itself off by using our blood which is the black stuff spewing out. Right now.. she’s getting close to losing about a pint of blood at this rate. I assure you, she will survive and her flesh will sustain any below freezing temperatures without frostbite.”

Just when he paused, Racheli’s body twitched and her mouth started to trickle another stream of black. It was a clear sign another wave was coming and it would catch the brunette if she wasn’t aware. Michael gave the model a look that questioned how much longer she was going to let this go on.

Justine looked at ‘Michael’ then over to the green-armored figure. “Meet me outside, on the north side in the snow drifts,” she said. A split second later she simply blinked out with a pop as air rushed to fill in the space the two girls had been occupying. On Gabriel's displays there was a registering of an interesting phase signature to it, a distortion in the quantum foam, and something akin to a wormhole. Space around her had distorted for the briefest of instants.

Was it space-fold? Was it quantum tunneling? An actual wormhole?

In the same instant they disappeared they reappeared outside on the north side of the building, and both of them plunged into the snow, the masked woman up to her upper shapely thighs, almost to her waist. She laid Racheli to the side, then plunged her arms into the snow and quickly dug out a trough, only to put the weakened woman into it. The air outside was chill enough for their breath to fog, and even the black ichor that coated Rach to steam in the frigid air. She’d begun to rapidly cool, even without being buried. Just as fast though, Justine was covering the woman up, now in the trough, burying her in snow, packing it around even her face, leaving her mouth and nose exposed enough to breathe but not much else.

Reaching back she withdrew the sword, Edgewynd from it’s scabbard over her shoulder. The silvery metal, something other than steel, rung cleanly in the brisk air. She transferred the weapon to her off-hand, then reached through the mental connection she had with the weapon, calling silently on it’s power. Give me the power to heal her, to handle the damage and the blood loss, she almost prayed silently. A moment later the blade glimmered then shone with bright golden radiance a couple shades darker than sunlight, a pure and vital energy. That same light flowed into Justine as she placed one hand on Racheli laying encased in the snowy, icy makeshift sarcophagus of sorts.

Energy, vitality, life, pure radiant healing energy surged through Justine and into Rach, increasing in radiant intensity. The snow around her glowed from within as the light suffused into the diseased and dying woman she lay in a bed of healing sunlight. The air around Justine shimmered as small flecks or orbs of light floated up around them both slowly, swirling faintly…

When the cold air surrounded her body, Racheli’s shivering had gradually died out and came to a stop. Her figure was still limp in Justine’s hands while the woman began to bury her into the snow. Rach’s mind had expected it to be freezing but instead, it was more inviting than anything. The blood collected at the back of her throat was quickly swallowed back down. She made a soft cough as it rubbed her raw insides, her eyes still closed to the scenery around her. Her breathing and pulse were steadier than before, yet still very weak to the touch. It was pretty easy to tell the virus had ripped her up from the inside and her immune system was trying to win a losing battle. She was a fighter after all, and the fact she would possibly die as one wasn’t a surprise to her.

It hadn’t taken long for the snow to hide her while her ears faintly caught the wailing sirens and shouts in the background, sounds of the chaos unfolding on Sherman Square. For the moment, Racheli didn’t give a shit. Even if she did, it was pretty clear she couldn’t move and to try wasn’t in her give a damn list for the time being. Anymore dwelling on the fact were pushed away when another sensation filled her as Justine placed a hand over the makeshift frozen coffin. A glow started in Racheli’s core, not warm as one expected, but cool and refreshing. It was like a pure river was flowing through her blood veins giving her worn out body strength again. It glided from her heart and spread, reaching to the farest corner of her limbs where it circled about at the tips then flowed back in.

While Justine healed Racheli, the projection the virus had chosen stood by and watched idly. His focus primarily on the two’s interaction rather than the hellish scene outside, his image patiently waiting for the scene to end. Seeing it happen from the outside, even he couldn’t deny the beauty through he knew the effort was only a temporarily one. In a few hours, his virus would be once more reconstructing the woman’s insides again and it would restart the whole process over. The only difference was, instead of nine hours, it would only take a few minutes to reach the stage where he had been forced to leave off.

Taking the brief peace until Rach woke up, he approached the healer. ”You realize you only delayed the process and likely made the restart much worse. There’s no way you can get me out of her, or at least without killing her. The only thing we can do is begin the merging process which if she can’t sync with my brain patterns, then she will die anyway. Knowing that… I have a question.”

Michael paused to ‘inhale’, then finished with his question. ”Is she really worth the effort to save at all?”


Gabriel blinked as the swordswoman jumped outside through some... unusual means. He tilted his head, then shook himself roughly- now was not the time for science! There was a girl dying outside! Gathering himself up, Gabriel went to the window he'd entered the apartment from before launching himself outside.

North side. Snow drifts. From his higher vantage point, it was easy to see where the swordswoman had warped to. And the girl, buried in the snow. And Mr. Ghostly-Ass too. He still had some questions for that guy- if, indeed, he was a guy.

"sir."

Gabriel jumped slightly (as much as he could, floating in midair) at the mechanical voice in his head.

What? I'm kinda busy here.

"i am aware. sir, there's something that's come up. something... unusual. distressing.

This whole evening has been distressing, Daedalus. You're gonna have to be more specific.

"it's the girl. her phase signature seemed off, so i cross-referenced it with a number of other signatures in my database and, well... something came up. a match. almost identical, in fact."

Gabriel perked up at that. Phase signatures were largely unique to the meta that possessed them, like fingerprints. Even two metas with the same powers would have vastly different phases. There was some precedent for similar tags, but it was rare. Gabriel himself had never seen such an event personally.

Huh. That could be something. Who was the match?

well... you.

...

...Pardon?

"it's true, sir. whatever is causing that poor girl's meta effect, it's somehow linked almost directly... to you."

The energy and light flickered out as Rach regained a modicum of consciousness. She knew the healing power of the weapon wasn’t fully expended, but she wouldn’t be able to pull her that far back from the brink again. Not for a full day anyway. Justine looked at Michael, or the image of the thing wearing him. “I know,” she said quietly.

“It might be possible to filter you out of her bloodstream in dialysis but I doubt that, since you’re bonding to her genetic code. Or at least I would assume so, by the physical changes being made,” she said. Her gaze turned back to Rach, looking at her for a moment. “You’re right, I barely know her from Adam. I made a promise that I would help her… look after her. That doesn’t end just because it gets difficult.” Her eyes turned back toward Michael. “I know she wouldn’t understand. Probably call me naive or something. It is Giri.. an obligation. Sure she has one to me to help with things around what.. was .. my apartment, but I have one to look out for her.”

She shrugged a little “Maybe she’ll appreciate the effort, maybe she won’t. Maybe she’ll live. Maybe she’ll die. But what matters is that I try,” she said quietly. Like she’d tried with Bozo? That thought was like a slap in the face, though she kept it from showing.

”The laboratories I was imprisoned in attempted to see if such a thing was possible. All the test subjects I was exposed to died rather...horribly. Since I was so interwoven into the prisoner’s DNA, it meant peeling me away was rather a hassle. Through it was likely because they weren’t concerned with discovering a way or a cure to remove me. Their experiments likely didn’t help, either. My original methods were much more gradual which would’ve allowed my host, in theory, a higher survival rate. It would’ve also allowed me to create more than one, infecting a whole populace on a planetary scale.” Michael stated simply the facts he could recall, his body leaning down and examining Rach’s calm state. “You humans have such a streak for aggression and taste for violence. If you knew her past, I’m almost sure your views might change. Not many hosts I’ve encountered has had the taste for blood at such a young age.”

A pleasant smirk graced his line lips, betraying his enjoyment over an hidden punch line. ”This might make my job a little bit easier…”

Justine stood, looking at ‘Michael’ tilting her head a bit. “Maybe. Maybe not. Just because one desires something, or thinks about it.. feels strongly about something, doesn’t mean they will do it,” she said calmly. “So tell me this… why shouldn’t the both of you be incinerated?” It was a hard-edged question, and would have likely been the safest answer, with what this ‘Michael’ was telling her. If he was a mental projection of the virus that was killing Rach. It would have been better to put both of them in a blast furnace, or even a plasma furnace and have them reduced to the constituent molecules, or.. even just carbonized.

Rach wasn’t someone she knew well, but she didn’t really want the girl to suffer.. and this thing was dangerous as hell. The last thing she needed was for it to get loose. She didn’t have the means to reliably destroy this … thing.. herself. Not at the moment. Perhaps the guy in the armor could do something about it? Thermite would do the job most likely.

It was perhaps, despicable in some ways.. but it was also efficient. Kill one, save a lot, right?.

War-Pulse could barely hear Angel quipping back to him outside of the ringing of rifle fire and the screaming of soldiers as more men piled into the now cramped hallway. Another energy blast rang out from Pulse’s hands as he tried to quell another wave of men and robot trying to get past his barrier, warping the hallways with the forceful impacts.

“Yeah yeah, kid! Tell me all the things that are impossible later,” The mercenary shouted back before delivering another powerful haymaker into a robot’s chest, collapsing its structure immediately. “just get that tin can started now or we’ll-”

The sound of the Mech coming to life cut the mercenary off, who had to jump out of the way of the advancing Equilibrium as it came hurtling out of the doorway. In fact the silver-clad fighter had to leap out of the way to avoid being trampled by the mech as it barreled past his energy barrier and straight into the oncoming masses, cutting a swath of destruction through the mechanical monstrosities that made up the front line. The sudden push Equilibrium made even caught War-Pulse off-guard, momentarily rendering him speechless. In the brief moment that he had been leading this youth down to his robot, he completely forgot the kind of power this mech suit had, a reminder that came at a impressive cannon shot through the swarm.

There was no time to gawk, however, there was still a limited window they would have before the cost of S.T.R.I.K.E soldiers outweighed the effort to get Equilibrium out of the base. They had to move.

“Hey! Wait up, Iron Giant!” War-Pulse charged on behind the mech, blasting any person who managed to avoid the mech’s assault. “I’m the only one who knows where the exit hole is!”

With that quip, he slipped out in front of Equilibrium, now deciding that flight was the best way to keep in front of Equilibrium’s jump jets, he darted towards where he had originally broke through the base’s floors, knowing he hit with such impact there was enough room for the mech to fly out with.

“This way!” He called out. “Let’s get a move on before they cut off our exit strategy!”

As he booted another robot straight in the head, he clicked on his comms link. Although he knew they could now be tracked by the radio signal, they could definitely be out by the time S.T.R.I.K.E would be able to amount a reasonable task force.

"Warden? Sherlock? I'm on my way out with the kid!" War-Pulse shouted into his comms link, grabbing a soldier near him and delivering a firm punch to his face before tossing the fellow into a crowd of men. "Equilibrium and I are almost at the exit, once he and I hit the air, you two down the whole building, make sure none of their AA guns can take us out of the sky. Equilibrium and myself cannot afford to touch ground until we are out of sight. As soon as you get a visual, you hit the switch, is that clear?"

It took Umbraxis a millisecond too late to realize what was about to impact it to effectively defend, and the result was devestating. As the collision turned the nearby area to a crater of ash, Umbraxis’ body was ripped apart by the explosion. The dark matter of its form, strong as it was, was unable to maintain its form under such a powerful impact of pure unmitigated power that had run straight into it. Almost instantly the humanoid form dissipated into disconnected ropes of dark matter, swirling in a disjointed agony as the resulting explosion tore it apart, separating the pieces into smaller and smaller fractions before dissipating into the air.

When the explosion subsided, and the smoke cleared, only one man stood where the being had. Thunderbolt had a handful of what remained, ashes of what was once an insurmountable obstacle.

The temporary silence after the blast spoke more volumes then anything, Thunderbolt found himself in cratered emptiness where part of the city once stood. Had Thunderbolt done it? Had Umbraxis truely been defeated?

The unpleasant answer came when the ashes in Thunderbolt’s hand wrapped around and held his hand in place, forcing the palm up to reveal two white eyes glaring at the boy, the sound of amused laughter now only audible to Thunderbolt, as the others were transported far from earshot.

“Poor mortal, all that power and all it’s done is set me back slightly.” The being whispered from Thunderbolt’s hand. “Nevertheless, you have impressed me...your kind is far more potent than I originally gave you credit for...though not without a fair bit of help from...others.”

As Umbraxis spoke, what remained of the shadow on Thunderbolt’s hand began to dissipate, trickling down to the floor with another weakened chuckle.

“You can have this fight, I no longer desire to continue in the state I am currently in.” Umbraxis said in a weakened sigh, a brief hint that it had experienced some semblance of pain from the raw destructive strike. “But mark my words; you have accomplished nothing here other than gaining my attention, and that price cost you dearly. Do you think it bothers me that you do not fear me? Fear is simply a feeling, an emotion, and in the face of oblivion what does it matter if you fear me or not? Inevitability does not change on one mortal’s fear, it happens regardless.”

As the final bits of darkness left Thunderbolt’s hand, the final, chilling words were uttered before the entity disappeared into the cracks in the tar.

“I will make a return, dear speedster. There is no outrunning fate. Until then...I suppose I am content with watching for the time being...you enjoy your Earth and your victory...for however long I can be amused by it.”

Another laugh echoed from the ground, followed by an uneasy, painful silence marred by a large, empty mass where buildings once stood.

Over the past few hours, or what would seem like a few hours on Earth, Aphrodite noticed her half-sister, Athena, was rushing here and there, busying herself with the affairs of the mortals. Even though all the gods have had at one point or another their favorites, Athena has always been the one most concerned with the mortal heroes of the planet, which the mortals call Earth. It had been so long since the Olympians could interact with the realm of the mortals. Ever since the Scrolls of Fate revealed that an ancient threat would rise again, the Olympians have once again began to select ‘favorites’.

Another result of this rekindled patronage of heroes was one of Aphrodite’s favorite pastimes of old: screwing with the ‘favorites’ of the other gods, particularly of her half-sisters. What allowed the Goddess of Love to get away with this activity was the fact that the gods could not interfere with the will of the others, lest they wish to run the risk of suffering the wrath of Zeus, the Father of Gods and Men. Of course, if one of the gods or goddesses had screwed with another’s mortal, it was only expected that the first god’s favorite would soon feel the wraith of the second god.

Aphrodite called over her son, Eros, or as we better know him as Cupid, to her side. Just as Athena sought aid from Helios, Aphrodite did the same from her son. Although the mortals of this modern age usually depicts the son of Aphrodite as a bow-wielding infant cherub, the Eros standing before the daughter of Zeus and Dione was a winged adolescent boy, still at the peak of his youth.

“Whom do you desire for me to strike down with my arrows, mother?” Eros asked the Goddess of Love while he took an arrow from his quiver, notched it, and aimed his bow into the air as if he were targeting an unsuspecting victim.

“I do have someone in mind, but you won’t be striking her down with your weapons.” Aphrodite turned to a locked wardrobe in her lovely abode. Within this safe, Aphrodite stored her own missiles, all of which having different arrow heads. When her son saw this stockpile of darts, Eros’ mouth started to foam in excitement, knowing the potency of Aphrodite’s arsenal.

“Use this, my son.” Aphrodite handed Eros one of the countless arrows that were stored within the wardrobe. This arrow had a barbed and serrated point. “While at first its effects appear weak and at a slow rate, after a while, the wound will become grievous and cause a sickness of love that even the strongest of will cannot endure.”

“And whom is the target?”

Aphrodite handed him a small scrap of parchment, containing some writing. “All what you need is here. I don’t quite think she’s doing it right, so I feel like giving her a little helping hand. Plus, I will greatly enjoy seeing my pompous sister squirm at the sight of her avatar inflicted by my disease. Don’t fail me, my son.”

“Consider it done!”



If you have lived in Ohio, you would know that you need a significant snowfall to cancel school. Although back in January, we got out of classes because the temperature was so low that it was dangerous for college students to be outside, now that it is the end of February, any hope for a weather-related school cancelation has left as spring rolls in. But once some lunatic threatens to turn the whole human race into metahumans, we get the whole week off. Too bad that one of my crazy professor still wants us to email him a paper. Ruined a perfect little improtu break, especially since I won’t be affected by this mad scientist’s plan.

While I served myself breakfast, I started to think about starting my paper. Normally, I would just set up my laptop on either the kitchen table or the desk in my room, but when I glanced down at wrist, I noticed I was still wearing the power nullifier. I must had forgotten to remove it before I went to bed last night. I know what that means: I’m going to have to spend a couple hours in my ‘drider’ form. Wonderful. Looks like I’m going to be writing this paper on my bed because I am NOT standing while I write this paper.

Once I had finished my breakfast, I went back to my bedroom. After I picked up my computer and placed it on my bed, I pulled off the power-nullifying band from my wrist and tossed it onto my nightstand. Crawling onto my bed, I flipped my body over so that my back was pressed up against my bed’s headboard and my spider legs were curled up towards the ceiling. Before I placed my computer on my cephalothorax (basically where my lap normally would be), I threw a blanket over the middle of the spider portion of my body. While I know that I am mostly spider in my lower body, it still feels unnatural to not wear pants in this form. I really need to get Athena to make something for me.

While the clicks of the keys began to sound as I typed on my computer, I felt my phone buzz. It was not touching me, either. I just could sense it. Probably that silly spider-sense thing. When I reached over to grab my phone, I suddenly felt an immense, but short, pain in my chest, specifically my heart. In fact, I thought I heard the thump of a bow string. However, when I glanced over towards my room’s windows, I saw that they were all closed and there were not any holes in the glass. Strange.

It was Will, sending an IM to me via the Facebook messenger. I probably should try to get this paper done now so that I can enjoy the rest of my ‘break’, but this feeling, this flame, urged me on to not only focus on the paper. Fortunately, I have more than two dexterous limbs in this form. My second pair of spider legs held my phone right above the screen of my laptop, while my first pair of spider legs controlled the screen.

“So, what type of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time? ;)” Will had typed to me.

“Don’t remind me, whether it’s some wannabe god or Marvel comics.” This was surreal. While my spider legs were texting that message to Will, I was still continuing with my paper. Talk about incredible double-tasking skills.

“Any idea about what you’ll be wearing when you’re superheroing?” However, before my legs could respond, Will also sent an image of a scarlet and gray costume.

“Although the eyelashes on the lens does make it look girly, that’s not bad.”

“So, since it’s obvious that you can easily go from Columbus to Lost Haven and back, would you be willing to meet up sometime soon? Maybe go to mass and then a Sunday lunch?”

Again, I felt this urge in my heart. Probably a month or two ago, I probably would have tried to give some excuse about being busy or something. But now, the feeling in my gut told me to act otherwise. I don’t know what has gotten into me.

“Well, I would have to check with my ‘ride’, but if I get a positive answer, let’s make it a date.”

Josie opened the door to the backseat of the limousine and stepped inside, leaving the bar behind. Inside was a plush interior, with leather on the seats and guns under them. Sitting on the seat facing forward, she pushed a button that was upon the cupholders, and signaled for the driver to head back to their place. Sighing and taking off her hat, placing it on the seat beside her, she stared dully at the streetlamps as they blurred past in the night, catching glimpses of some bums surrounding a trash can, lit on fire, a lady pushing an over-encumbered stroller, a mugger shooting a man in an alleyway. You know, normal things for the city.

Her boredom was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. She didn't exactly know what model it was, but Jack gave it to her, so she supposed that it was secure. Lazily pulling it out from her jacket pocket, she said, "Hello?" and leaned back in the seat, continuing to watch the streets flash past.

"Hey, if it isn't Josie, my favorite lieutenant! I need to tell you something important." It was Bleeder Jack, with his greasy Cockney accent. Grinning like a shark in anticipation, Josie said, "Go on, Jack. What do you need to tell me?"

"Well, since you're busy, I doubt that you had looked at the news. So I took the liberty of watching it, and as it turns out, some tosser is planning on giving everyone else abilities like yours. Well, not your particular 'knife typhoon' powers, but Meta abilities in general."

Josie raised her eyebrow, and said with a bored drawl, "Really? And this guy thinks that giving everyone a power is a good idea? Jesus Christ, people over here are more dumb than I gave them credit for." Summoning a blade, no larger than a pocketknife's edge, and sending it around her left finger in loops, she smirked. "Still, it should be fun. More Metahumans means more killing, more danger. I just love the thought of that."

Jack laughed, and coughed, probably from a cigarette or something. "So, I didn't just call you up to chat. There's an obstacle in the way of your acquisition of the streets of Little Ulster. A gang called the Brown Bat Riders recently attacked a convoy of ours, an arms deal. We can't let them have our guns, or think that we're afraid of them. Kill them. Kill them all."

Josie snapped her left index finger and said, "Aces. Just what I wanted to hear. I'll check in as soon as I've handled them." Ending the call, she pressed the call button for the driver, and said, "Little Ulster. Robin View. Drop me off as soon as we turn onto that road."

The driver said nothing, nor gave any indication that he had heard, rather, he just turned onto a different street. Josie leaned back, lounging in her seat, waiting. Hoping that they would resist.

Waiting for the impending bloodbath.

Sherman Square, Lost Haven

Several days after the Umbraxis Incident

Some time had passed since the riots plagued Lost Haven's streets, but the city was still feeling the effects of the attack. Laura pulled her dark polyester blend military coat tighter around her body to protect herself from the biting, chilly winds. The coat had belonged to her great grandfather during the First World War; she hadn't been born yet to ever meet the man herself, but her dad and grandpa had spoken very fondly of him. She was ecstatic to receive the coat as a gift for her eighteenth birthday. It would have been given to her brother, but Harvey was a couple of inches too tall to wear it comfortably. Now that he had grown to 6'2, it certainly wouldn't fit. Neither would any of the rest of the guy's clothes. Which was where Laura and Harvey had been that afternoon...Shopping. Laura glanced to her left at her brother, who was decked out in his new jeans and a rather fashionable grey overcoat. He was still wearing that stupid grin on his face, too, that he had on since they left for the mall earlier. "Would you stop smiling? You look like an idiot." She hissed. Shopping was one of the woman's least favorite activities. She hated wasting money on new clothing; after all, what did she need a dozen different pairs of shoes for? In Laura's mind, all she needed were her sneakers, some all-purpose hiking boots and a pair of slippers for nights out. That was it. Harvey wasn't a shopoholic by any stretch. He was indifferent to the entire affair. What he really liked, however, was spending time with his younger sister.

Harvey continued to smile, despite his sister's complaining. "Ah, come on. Lighten up! We beat Umbraxis; he won't be back for a long time." Harvey paused, a mischievious look crossing his face. "Are you just jealous that I'm faster than you?" Laura scowled and immediately put up her defenses. "Pfft! Like I care about your speed. I just think we should be trying to track down the origins of this Umbraxis creature and find out where it came from and why its so interested in earth. Not wasting our time buying you new clothes because you're suddenly six foot two." The Smith kids turned the corner and stopped in front of their apartment building. Harvey pushed the double glass doors (now covered in metal reinforcement) open and waltzed into the lobby and toward the stairs. "How do you propose we follow Umbraxis' path to his origin point, oh master detective, hmm? You get access to the hubble telescope recently? Or did your boyfriend build you a spaceship?" Laura followed after her brother, picking up the pace and climbing the stairs alongside him.

"How many times do I have to tell you that nothing is going on between Terry and I? We're just partners. Guy's a dork anyway. He's not my type."

"Who said anything about Terry?" Harvey grinned. Laura gave him the dirtiest look she could muster. "Hey, you brought him up." Laura pushed past her older brother and pulled out her house key, stabbing it into the lock and turning the bolt. The old door creaked open, allowing the two to enter their apartment. Harvey headed towards his bed room to put his new clothes away. At the same time, Laura crossed into the living room and took a seat on the couch. A small scrap of paper sat in the center of the coffee table, next to a pile of files and a half empty mug of old coffee. Laura raised an eyebrow and picked up the paper, glancing it over in a microsecond. She didn't recognize the hand writing. What was written upon it, however, scared her.

Greetings, hero and heroine,

My employer, Christopher Arthur III, wishes to officially invite you to a meeting with other metahumans in order to discuss recent events. Please meet us at Settler's Clearing over in Royal Park. We look forward to meeting you all and we hope you all will come.

Sincerely,

Minerva

"Harvey!" She called frantically. The speedster appeared in a blur of blue and silver light, standing behind the couch and looking over his sister's shoulder. "What's up?" He said calmingly. Thunderbolt could tell his sister was distressed. Her voice had a way of going up a pitch whenever she was scared. "Read this." She said, and shoved the paper into his face. Harvey read the note at the speed of an SR-71 Blackbird. "What the hell?" He muttered. "Someone knows. They know who we are."

"It's a trap. Has to be. We should call May. Or Icon."

"They might already be going. It mentions other metahumans. Heroes, presumably."

"Who's Christopher Arthur III?"

Thunderbolt suddenly disappeared before Boom's eyes. He reappeared a moment later, jumping over the couch. He placed his laptop on the coffee table. Harvey's fingers raced rapidly over the surface of the keyboard like lightning. Their 200 down internet connection was having trouble keeping up as Harvey Smith combed the internet for information on the name. Less than five seconds after he began, he pressed the computer towards Laura and told her what he'd read. "Playboy billionaire. Spends a whole lot of money on archaeology. Has a thing for ancient Greece. Inherited the Knight's Corps from his parents. Apparently, his dad cheated on his mom, who later killed him out revenge and then herself."

"A bit dark. Sounds like a super villain in the making."

"Or a super hero. Look at his company's financial history. He's been sinking a major portion of his profits into some secret project for years now. But the spending has tripled in recent times. The same month Chris was rumored to have been visited by officials from STRIKE."

"You said he was into the ancient Greeks, right? Look at this. STRIKE's Daedalos project cropped up on various conspiracy theorists just a year after Arthur allegedly met with STRIKE. He received his Masters degree in Robotics at the age of eighteen. Giant flying robot inspired by Greek culture working for STRIKE, that just so happens to have appeared soon after Chris here was seen with STRIKE? Can't be a coincidence. Chris must have secret contracts with STRIKE that he isn't telling anyone about. This guy's developing world-level weapons for a clandestine intelligence agency and nobody knows about it!"

"Let's not jump to any conclusions. We filled in a whole lot of holes with complete conjecture. We'd need more than two minutes of web searching to find anything more than these cursory similarities."

Laura closed the laptop. "You don't think I know that? Who's the journalist here?" She stood and raced to the back of the apartment, rummaging through her closet. "I'm a cop, Laura. I know a case when I see one; but there must be a reason that no one's made the connection before now. The path either fizzles out or it leads somewhere too dangerous to go. We shouldn't go messing with STRIKE, or some billionaire." Laura emerged from her room, dressed as Boom. "We're going to talk to the guy ourselves, then. He gave us an invitation. Let's take him up on it."

Boom sped out of the apartment building, making a beeline for Settler's Clearing. Harvey groaned and tossed on his own costume, running after her.

There’s nothing quite like the feeling that you get when you’re flying over the city at night. The smell of the ocean, the wind in your hair, and the spectacular view of Lost Haven’s skyline sprawling out before you. As a little girl I always dreamed of soaring through the clouds like a bird, but I never imagined that it would be this much fun.

Or this liberating.

Between the riots this Umbraxis character, and this new guy threatening to turn everyone into metas, Lost Haven has been through a lot over the last few nights. The city is still in shock over the so called “Destroyer’s” attack at the police precinct, which Icon and a small band of heroes barely put an end to, and I wish that I had been there to help.

But then again, what could I have done?
Besides, I’ve been busy looking into the Renaissance Project, and to be honest, I haven’t found much. But I figure that if I keep pressing the issue, they will come to me.

I take one last pass over the city, which is unusually quiet before I decide to head back home. I make sure that the coast is clear as I land in an alley across the street from my apartment building and make my way inside. I smile and greet Saul, the front desk attendant who as always meets me with a smile and “’ello” as I pass him and go into the elevator. I press the button 53 for my floor and as I do, a small piece of paper falls out of the emergency call box.

I don’t think anything of it and pick it up to see who it belongs to, and my heart nearly stops dead in my chest. It is clearly for me.

Greetings, heroine,

My employer, Christopher Arthur III, wishes to officially invite you to a meeting with other metahumans in order to discuss recent events. Please meet us at Settler's Clearing over in Royal Park. We look forward to meeting you all and we hope you all will come.

Sincerely,

Minerva

A thousand thoughts go racing through my mind. I’ve known of Arthur for a number of years, and he has garnered quite the reputation, if somehow he’s figured out who I am….I’m not even prepared to think of the consequences. I know that I have no choice, I have to go to Settler’s Crossing and find out what this is all about.

And yet, through all the dread, a part of me can’t help but feel like I just found Wonka’s Golden Ticket.

Several days had passed since Icon and the others had “defeated” Umbraxis. In the days that followed, Icon had searched high and low for any signs of the so called “destroyer,” however, there were no such signs to be found. He knew that they hadn’t seen the last of Umbraxis, and he prayed that when the monster did return, he and the other heroes of Earth were ready for him.

The last few days had been quiet in Lost Haven, and the nights even quieter, and on some level it made Icon uneasy. After everything that the city had been through over the last few months, it was almost like waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had seen the threats on TV, some madman was planning to detonate some device that would either wipe out the entire world, or make the entire population meta human. He knew that if every single person in the world were to become a meta, it would spell certain doom for the planet. Icon has faced several beings that were a global threat, and that is with the small percentage of metas in the world, the though of giving everyone on Earth that much power was terrifying. It would be like giving a group of kindergarteners an uzi and telling them to go play. In addition to Umbraxis, Icon had also been looking for any information he could find on this mysterious figure who planned to bring Earth into it’s next stage of evolution, the so called Pax Metahumana, yet was unsuccessful again in his efforts.

His failures weighed heavily on Scott as he walked onto The Hub’s empty dance floor. He liked spending time alone in the club before it opened from time to time, it gave him a chance to be alone and just think. Admittedly, as of late he would spend a lot of his alone time thinking about Amber and how she had so abruptly left the city for a better and presumably safer life on the West Coast. But now his thoughts drifted to Umbraxis and Pax Metahumana, and what he could do to prevent a global catastrophe.

As Scott turned to go to the stairway that led to his apartment above the club, he noticed something on the floor. As he bent down to pick it up, he could see that it was a folded piece of paper. However, he was not prepared for what he saw when he opened it. As he began to read, it was as if all the air were forced from his lungs.
Greetings, hero,,

My employer, Christopher Arthur III, wishes to officially invite you to a meeting with other metahumans in order to discuss recent events. Please meet us at Settler's Clearing over in Royal Park. We look forward to meeting you all and we hope you all will come.

Sincerely,

Minerva

He stood there for a moment in silence. Someone must have figured out his secret identity, that much was obvious. Scott had heard of Arthur, but really didn’t know anything about him other than he was some billionaire whose company dealt in weapons and technology. Perhaps he was just as concerned about recent events and was looking to solidify a plan to stop whatever was coming…or perhaps he was looking to use him as his personal enforcer. Whatever the case may be, Icon would be ready.

Angel grinned at War-Pulse's quips. He didn't like being around the guy, because he had fought him before, but he had to admit that he was quite clever. Letting the mercenary lead him down the corridors, he bashed a robot in the face, and split one from top to bottom with the DMS, leaving the remains standing for a second, until they fell down separately. However, he was already moving on, running, matching War-Pulse's pace by a combination of boosts with the jump jets and the normal agility of the ATD. When they reached the exit hole, Angel stayed silent, letting War-Pulse take charge. He was the one rescuing him, after all. However, he did feel he needed to add one thing to the conversation.

Hacking into their earpieces, Angel shut off his loudspeakers. "Warden, War-Pulse, I have to tell you something. Sherlock already knows this, so don't worry about telling him. While I can normally hop short distances with my jump jets, they don't have the capability for sustained flight. I'm not Christopher Arthur or Archangel, after all, with access to almost unlimited resources. I work with what I can get my hands on. However, I have come up with a solution. I will re-route all my systems' power to the Pegasus, except life support and heat exhaust. It could get hot in this thing without them, after all. After that, I'll be able to fly for about half an hour. Should be enough to reach my garage. The downside is that I won't be able to use any of my weaponry for defending myself." It didn't matter what War-Pulse or Trent said, Angel did it anyways. His jump jets, when they were pushed, could break Mach 3. Shutting off all weapons and defense systems, as well as motor control and sensors, Angel moved the machinery with his mind, his technopathy taking only a little bit of his concentration with the familiar feel of the ATD.

Blasting off into the sky after War-Pulse, after the two were airborne, he would draw in his mech's arms and legs, almost in an Iron Man pose, sans the repulsors. Following War-Pulse's trajectory, keeping track of the man with his synced sight through the cameras, he would push the thrusters to full, and a mach cone would begin to form around his mech almost immediately, and increase in power, a silver sheen trailing behind the ATD. Grinning inside the mech, Angel was glad to get away from that place. God, he hated those pricks.



Sherlock waded through protocols and data that was all-too familiar. S.T.R.I.K.E. Holding Facility U7-EOX, a place that was much more than a simple prison for dangerous persons. However, he didn't have even a microsecond to think about that, as he was under attack by hundreds of defense protocols surrounding the generator's control system. They had to get to the power systems of the base before they switched them to manual control, so with every attack by the defense protocols, Sherlock responded with a staggering amount of force, deleting lesser programs with a single line of code. This was the power of an AI, and one not even meant for assault and destruction, at that. Melting through their defenses, Sherlock and Warden quickly took over the generators, and shut them down. So as Trent and Angel flew through the air, the guns that would normally be filling the sky with lead and fire remained silent, their crews confused, wondering why their armaments would not fire.

Cracking his digital knuckles, Sherlock said to Warden, "Alright. Now we need to cover our tracks. They will most certainly know I was involved, but your involvement is relatively unknown. Trent, S.T.R.I.K.E. will know was here, but from what I've seen, they don't really care about him. I'm gonna mask your data trail, so nothing can follow. You pull out, I'll follow."

If Warden pulled out of the system, Sherlock would begin scrubbing their presence from the system, taking in the bits and pieces of code that would lead S.T.R.I.K.E. to figure out who was there. Deleting the evidence by storing it in his deepest archives, and then dispersing the code, Sherlock pulled out of the S.T.R.I.K.E. servers, heading back to the deep net, where his connection to Warden's server was.

"Keep monitoring them, and tell me if they need my help with anything. I'll be concentrating on concealing your server and my connection to it for a while, so I can't watch."

Lyger had been out all night searching for anything that would lead him to the device that would transform the entirety of the population of Lost Haven, and eventually the world into a meta human with little luck. One would think that a man with such an abnormally elongated neck would stand out, but nobody seemed to know anything about this mad scientist. Not even Harry’s old contacts at the agency knew anything about him. It was more than frustrating, not only was Lyger unable to find the man or his device, he wasn’t even close to learning where to look…or even the man’s name for that matter.

Lyger had just tracked down another lead that turned out to be nothing, an ex con named James Ridley, who had at one point specialized in genetics research and had attempted to uncover the secrets of the meta human gene. Unfortunately, Mr. Ridley knew nothing about the man behind the video message that played on every television in Lost Haven.

“Harry, Ridley was just another dead end. We’ve got…” Lyger said into his comlink, his voice trailing off as he approached his car, Kaiju and saw something tucked neatly beneath the windshield wiper.

“Lyger, what is it?” Harry’s voice came back over the com.

As Lyger unfolded the paper he could see that it was a note, and what the note said gave him pause.

Greetings, hero,,

My employer, Christopher Arthur III, wishes to officially invite you to a meeting with other metahumans in order to discuss recent events. Please meet us at Settler's Clearing over in Royal Park. We look forward to meeting you all and we hope you all will come.

Sincerely,

Minerva

“Harry, I think it might just be our first real lead.” Lyger said as he got into Kaiju, moments later, the car’s powerful engine roared to life as Lyger sped off towards Settler’s Clearing.

Minerva stood alone at Settler’s Clearing. A holographic projector had been set up beside her in anticipation for Christopher Arthur’s little ‘superhero’ meeting. At that moment, she was peering down at her watch, while at the same time taping her foot against the ground. Was Chris really going to be late for his own meeting that he himself wanted to be set up? Normally, these meetings that he would usually miss or come late to were what he would have considered ‘boring’ or ‘tedious’. Would he treat this in a similar fashion?

One by one, the heroes arrived. Thunderbolt and Boom zoomed there in the flash of lightning. Icon soared down from the sky. Even those who did not have the colossus powers of these previously named heroes found a way to arrive. Lyger even pulled up in his own vehicle. Once Radiance had arrived, the only hero who was missing was their host himself, Chris. Minerva could not believe that her boss was skipping out on the meeting that he requested to be arranged. It was a monumental task for her to find where she needed to put the invitations. Or at least it would seem monumental if a mortal had accomplished it, since Minerva was in fact Athena in disguise, who enlisted the aid of Helios to discover these heroes’ whereabouts.

After a few minutes, a limousine finally pulled up to where the heroes and Minerva had gathered together. Once the vehicle slowed down to a standstill, the chauffeur walked around the car and opened the backseat door that was facing the assembled heroes. When the door was opened, Chris stepped out of the limousine and removed his sunglasses from his face, placing the pair of glasses into his dress shirt’s pocket.

“I apologize for the delay. My appointment with the Miss March from the Viera Magazine ran over a little longer than I expected.” When Chris realized that the others were giving him a blank stare as their response to his comment, he tried to qualify his statement. “Hey, when someone, who usually dates superstars and models, discovers that their date actually understands half of the scientific mumbo-jumbo, he might want to extend the night out a little bit.”

“Okay, so before we begin, I would like to match up names with faces. While we all know who Icon is,” Chris gestured towards the blue and silver superman, “Unless you want me to refer to you all as the Quicksilver twins, the Black Panther, and Electra, we might want to do a short little ice breaker.”

“I’ll start. I’m Christopher Arthur III. Playboy millionaire and philanthropist. However, you might better know me as Iron Knight, who helped most of you, whom, if my memory serves me correctly, were all involved with stopping that whole Demon Invasion fiasco.”




After the heroes became reacquainted with one another, Chris pulled out a small remote and clicked one of the many buttons that were on that device. Immediately, the holographic project started to hum, signaling that it was warming up.

”Well, if the invitation was not clear enough, we’re here to discuss this situation.” A recording of the broadcasted message of the man, who had threatened to give everyone in the world superhuman powers, was played by the holographic projector. “A little over 24 hours ago, this aired on national and international television, as I am sure you all have seen. I have called this meeting so that we could decide the proper course of action. While S.T.R.I.K.E. is scrambling around Lost Haven to find this device, I would like to be able to have a ‘Plan B’ in my pocket, just in case everything goes to hell.”

“About a few weeks ago, I had encountered a small facility in West Virginia that was producing a chemical that seemed to develop metahuman powers in regular people. At first, I was not quite sure whether the man in that broadcast was associated with the people who I encountered in West Virginia. However, after corroborating the broadcast’s story about his followers stopping a ‘terrorist’ from tainting one of Lost Haven’s water supplies with this crude video that was taped by an eye witness, I am convinced that they are one and the same.” The video changed to the home video of the event where the group of metahumans were confronting War-Pulse. However, the quality of the video made it difficult to discern the identities of the metahumans captured in the tape. “In this video, you will see this large, shark-like man. I fought that same man in West Virginia. So I feel it is safe to assume that these two events are not mere coincidences.”

“Therefore, before we decide anything, I would recommend that we recruit a few others who might provide us with some useful intel about this group.” The holographic projector changed the image that it was displaying again, this time showing images of Raptor, Wasp, and Arachne. “I found these three artificial metahumans at that West Virginian facility. I don’t know whether you all have seen them before, but hopefully they can give us some more insight into what we’re getting ourselves into.”

Then, an image of War-Pulse appeared over the holographic projector. While S.T.R.I.K.E. did not have much on this figure, by using his own memory and the video feed from his armor, Chris was able to develop an approximate recreation of what War-Pulse might look like. “For those who helped us during the Demon Invasion, this guy might look familiar. I cannot for the life of me remember if he mentioned his name then, but for our purposes here, let’s call him ‘Winter Soldier’, in order to keep with the ‘Marvel’ theme. From the video footage that I had just shown you a few minutes ago, it appears that this metahuman had quite a scuffle with the people who are threatening to change everyone into metahumans. Just as with the other metahumans, hopefully this ‘Winter Soldier’ will know what we’re up against.”

“So, any questions before we continue?”

The house grew quiet as the sink dripped droplets of water onto a few dirty dishes in the sink, although it had became dark Eva felt restless. Like she had to do something but for her there wasn’t anything she could do not at the moment. Which frustrated her all the more. But while she laid in bed tossing the Press Conference the Mayor had called was well underway.

As Sampson straightened his tie and strutted onto the podium with utmost confidence he began to speak. “Citizens of New York City, time and time again has our city been besieged by uncontrollable superhuman beings.. I say no longer. Now we’ve seen what superhumans left unchecked can do to a city, my heartfelt sorrow for all those who lost their lives fighting this Umbraxis, the countless Lost Haven Police Officers slaughtered by this menace.”

In split second thousands of blinding flashes came from reporters. “Any threat from a Superhuman should be taken seriously the first time every time, if Lost Haven PD had the full backing of the US Military Umbraxis would have been dealt with. So in light of recent events I have accelerated a pet project of mine. Ladies and Gentlemen of the press -” He said as he raised his hand behind him as the curtain pulled back to reveal a handful of men and women dressed in New York PD uniforms. “- I present the men and women of Stars and Stripes! Led under the command of Detective Dynamo; these superpowered men and women serve you the people. They uphold the duty to protect and serve the fair citizens of New York from any and all criminals. Including this Umbraxis and Pax Metahumana Villain. I will not allow New York to fall victim to another devastating attack like what Lost Haven suffered! Any questions?”

The Press Conference Mayor Sampson called last night created quite the buzz in the morning, a specialized police unit composed entirely of super heroes all under the command of the New York Police Department and Mayor Sampson, it was something of a first for the public sector. The morning news had highlights with all the heroes, Detective Dynamo and Captain Badass among them as the two highest ranking members. While Eva shuffled around the house in the late hours of the morning her Aunt Briley had woken up sometime earlier but had only just started making something for breakfast. As she stood over the stove flipping eggs with a thin metal spatula Eva slumped up towards the kitchen dining table dragging her feet as she pulled back the chair and sat down. While Eva reached for a slice of toast the skillet popped as Briley flipped the eggs over.

“You alright Eva, you seem tired - you didn’t stay out late did you? You know you are not allowed out past curfew.”

Eva raised her head from buttering her toast.”Couldn’t sleep well is all. There’s a lot going on. That superhero bomb plot and murdering meta out there. It’s all over the news.”

Briley’s head sunk at the mention of these recent events. She’d worked to save civilian lives including those of her own family. “I suppose these things would be hot topics among the news outlets. I’ll be heading into work in a few hours, we’re having a presentation tonight.”

Saying not a word Eva went back to her plate picking through a bowl of assorted fruit while Briley scrapped the eggs off onto a plate and began setting the table.

On the other side of the pond Arthur quickly zipped towards Stonehenge passing through crowds and buildings as a man spotted him speeding along unbeknownst to Arthur. He was a man with a strong jaw and a large forehead who was clean shaven, he stopped for but a moment as the ghost passed him with a twinkle in his eye he smiled until a young woman called out to him. “Hey Nick. Thanks for helping out we’ve been busy all year passing out food to the homeless. I don’t know how we would have helped all these people had you not come along.”

“Oh don’t count yourself out Marian, you all have wonderful hearts you inspired me to give a helping hand. It’s what you do here. Inspire people to be their best.” Nick said as the woman smiled as went back to handing out food bags.

Settler's Clearing, Lost Haven

It wasn't long, perhaps a handful of seconds, before Thunderbolt came speeding into Settler's Clearing. He kicked up a mound of dirt as he tried to slow to a stop. The massive gust of wind created by his arrival knocked the few pre-Spring leaves out of the nearby trees, tossing the greenery into the air. Boom showed up a moment later, slightly out of breath. "How are you so...damn fast?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips. Harvey just shrugged and waltzed closer to Minerva. "Where's your boss?" He asked. The edge in the speedster's voice was obvious. Finding a note in his private residence meant for his other identity was unnerving to say the least. "He'll be arriving soon." She said simply. It was apparent from the inflection in her speech that the secretary wouldn't be answering any of their questions. Those were meant for Arthur. For now, the speedsters hung off to the side, waiting for the man's appearance. Boom tapped her foot rapidly against the dry ground, pounding a hole into the dirt and grass. Harvey placed a tender hand on her shoulder and the tapping ceased. "I'm just-" She began. "-On edge. I know. Me too." Harvey finished. He was trying to keep a level head for the both of them. But he was just as worried as his sister. Something was off about this whole thing. The last time this many heroes were in the same place, two people died.

Icon was the next to enter. His presence eased many of Harvey's fears; if this was indeed a trap, he knew the Hero of Lost Haven would have his back. Thunderbolt glanced to his right and noticed Boom's reddened cheeks. "You okay?" He asked obliviously. "Mmm. Oh yeah." She purred. "You could carve an arrowhead with that chin." Harvey gagged, causing Laura to jam her elbow into his side. "Please, never, ever write romance." He snickered. A single look from the enigmatic super hero caused the two speedsters to turn away. Neither speedster recognized the next two to show up. Although Harvey had read reports about the vehicle Lyger rolled up in; it was quite unique in its appearance. Harvey couldn't help but appreciate the mysterious heroine's choice of attire. Boom put a quick stop to his ogling. "Oh come on! You can stare at pretty boy but I'm not allowed to glance?" Harvey whined quietly. "Perv." Laura muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"You're one to talk. I've seen your computer-" Thunderbolt started, but Laura shoved a finger into his face and interrupted him.

"You want to go there?! At least I haven't been to a strip club!"

"I was tracking a suspect!"

"Really enjoyed that assignment, didn't you?"

"The least you could do is use incognito mode."

"Why you little prick-"

"-Who are you calling little?!"

The two's argument grew progressively louder until it was finally stopped;someone cleared their throat rather excessively, the wordless gesture got their point across well enough: 'shut up, please'. They looked away from each other, turning a shade a red never seen before by man. "Sorry." Thunderbolt apologized timidly. The arrival of a limousine dissipated some the scathing awkwardness of the meeting. Christopher stepped out of the vehicle, dressed as sharply as ever. He addressed the costumed protectors, wordlessly demanding the attention of the speedsters with a story about his latest 'appointment.' He quickly followed it up by trying to 'break the ice' and allow the rest of the heroes to introduce themselves to each other. He started, immediately revealing himself to be Iron knight. "Ha. I knew it." Boom boasted. Thunderbolt stepped forward once Chris was finished. "I guess I'll go next. Uhm, my name is Thunderbolt and this is my sister, Boom." He said with a wave of his hand. "Again, I'd like to apologize on our behalf for our earlier...antics. That was unprofessional of us and I hope we can forget it ever happened and move forward with this working relationship." Harvey tried to said as diplomatic and eloquent as possible; but he feared his words came out jumbled and nervous. He dashed back next to Boom and allowed whoever wanted to continue the introductions.

The next part, the main purpose of the meeting, began in turn. Chris debriefed the heroes on the Pax Metahumana situation. STRIKE already had a full-blown search out for the device, but Iron Knight wanted a back up plan in case everything went to hell and the bomb went off. The last thing the world needed was every Tom, Dick and Harry running around with super powers; not to mention the countless terrorist organizations this would empower. Apparently, Arthur had encountered members of Pax Metahumana before. In an effort to combat them, he wished to recruit a number of individuals who had prior dealings with Metahumana's facilities and garner what intel they could from these people. "Yeah, I've got a question." Boom said once Chris finished. "This 'Winter Soldier', as we're calling him...If he really tried to poison Lost Haven's water supply, how can we be sure he'll be willing to help? Terrorists aren't exactly known for playing nice with others. Even if we manage to take him prisoner, none of us are telepaths (as far as I'm aware) so procuring that information by force will be difficult at best."

---

---

It had been just over a month now since Isaac had worn the black kit. They named the whole affair Demon-Day, and it hadn't been fear or trauma that led to the decision.

He had to get organised.

This was a whole new world. One he had a more tenuous grasp on. The old world he'd laid the groundwork. He had an alibi - a justification for being in Lost Haven. He knew all about the world and global events. In fact, he made it his business to be better informed of rumour, of shifting in the criminal underbelly than anyone else, hero or villain.

In this universe there were historical facts that were just different from anything he knew. One of his closest friend's surnames was different... there was just too much he didn't know that he would rely on as given facts. And in all honesty, he'd been getting by on a lot of dumb luck. He had a heavily banged up hand to prove it.

So he got to work. Not as the Vigilante, but as Isaac Fontaine. He'd given himself an alibi - he was now studying law at Lost Haven University. He also was taking an extra history class per semester to take care of that uncertainty between universes. The best news was that most of his classes could all be taken virtually entirely online. Lectures were recorded, literature was provided and each course had it's own message board and discussion forum. If he didn't want to he'd never need to set foot on campus again... at least until he took the job.

But we'll get to that later.

The point is, he was more organized and stable than he had been in years.

...and that's how he came to be repeatedly watching a recording of the original feed in the news van that gave him a lift on D-Day.

"When they hijacked your frequency, were you able to tell where the feed was coming from."

"Not exactly. Not with our equipment. But we can vaguely triangulate it back, with the signal getting beamed from the tower on top of the Chambers Building and the tower at Central Station... to about 5 blocks around here."

A Google Maps image printed out with the tech guy drawing a circle on the page. "You find 'em, we get the story, right?"

The Vigilante grunted in reply, deep in thought.

Poseidon Energy; Research and Development

“Mrs. Patton. We’re ready to begin any moment.”

“Wonderful, we have some big potential investors in this project, all the major Military branches and even STRIKE. This better work, a whole lot of money is at stake here profits skyrocketing into the millions. We can save lives protect civilians and military personnel.”

Well, shall we flip the switch, and impress these Careers?”

With a quick flip of a switch located at the end of a console the machine fired a grid of interlocking light. “Ladies and Gentlemen I present the Bulwark Of Aegis.Named after the Greek Mythological shield carried by Zeus and Athena this grid of energy will absorb any kinetic, thermal or even nuclear energy, any and all forms of damage, whether you have a launching missile or a Super Villain who emits lasers from his pupils as long as there is an energy source powerful enough to sustain the blast any and all damage is negligible.”

A man stood up among the crowd.”So what you're saying Miss Patton, is that we need a constant source of power equaling that of an atomic detonation to - withstand an atomic detonation. Am I understanding that, or did I miss something?”

Turning to the man Briley smiled and said. “You’re not wrong of course, however allow me to explain, the way the Bulwark works is that the electricity is converted into solid matter and is then looped back into the machine and reconfigured back into energy, meaning although it does require a massive power source it only needs a faction of that energy to sustain the field. While power loss is inevitable of course and we are working on the exceptional power requirements, any more questions?”

--- Meanwhile at Stonehenge ---

Arthur Pendragon had already reached the great Stonehenge and had begun to activate the ancient device, pressing the rocks and glyphs as they are revealed in order. “For the.. God dammit!! Why is this so complicated - activate the.. Confounded device! Who thought this was a good idea!!” As Arthur cursed at the glyphs he continued pressing them until they pinged all at once emitting a tone that resounded all throughout the country side.

“And there we go, now that should get Merlin's attention.”

Lo and behold it did as Merlin sat around “Nixonland” As the plebeian tended to call it, he did have far more knowledge about this new world. Although he was borish by her standards, but of course by now she knew enough about this world to be on her own; which was probably a bad thing considering all the damage she’d cause. As she mulled about no doubt to Nixon’s distain a pulse of magical energy rushed through the world gaining her attention. “Stonehenge no doubt a bit crude but effective. So perhaps I will pop by and see who's knocking.”

As the moment of triumph Arthur felt as he finally activated Stonehenge passed, he began to question if this would even work having never needed to use Stonehenge for anything before; his exhilaration turned to mild confusion and then boredom as minutes passed until a blinding flash of light ripped through the center of the monument. And a woman barely dressed stepped forward.

Arthur readied himself for what could be an enemy.”WHO ARE YOU!! One of Morgana’s disciples no doubt.”

The woman gave a wretched smile as she began to speak.”Morgana. You still haven’t killed her yet, my you are a disappointment, when I decided to sate my curiosity as to whom activated this relic I found none other than King Arthur himself, shame you’re merely a ghost you’d be useful in the things to come.”

“ENOUGH of this, name yourself or become thine enemy!”

With a chuckle of amusement she obliged him.”I am Merlin of Medieval Earth, Superheroes aren’t the only ones who dimension hop. Of course my Arthur was a bit more handsome, you should really do something about that ghastly beard, trim it or anything really.”

As Arthur processed the possibility of a new Merlin he became offensive yet again.”If you are an alternate Merlin, where is the one from this Earth, if you’ve done any harm to him I swear..”

“Oh please, knowing my alternate half he’s in the middle of world ending events. There’s not a lot of documented history about you two, all shrouded in myth and legends. Terrible really, it seems like you two got into some messy situations. Now then you did call for a reason, and not just to what is the term. Chat up a buddie?”

This Merlin before him was an unknown and surely dangerous by the way she carried herself, pompous didn’t begin to describe her. But this was a Merlin, and at this time he needed someone with exceptional control of magics.”I needed Merlin’s help. I have a disciple; one of my descendants has taken up Excalibur.”

Upon hearing of the sword Excalibur Arthur had Merlin's complete attention knowing that someone wielded that powerful artifact. Arthur continued. “There is a place called Lost Haven where she will begin her trial by fire. I need a way to take her there.”

Merlin smirked. “That’s all dearie? A minor teleportation spell. And here I thought it was going to be far more complicated. There is one slight hitch of course, the reason I am here instead of my own world. You see your interests and mine coincide, you wish to further the training of your disciple and I want to find strong Heroes to save the world. I’m sure you heard of that Umbraxis Villain yes? He’ll destroy this world just as he did mine. And while I’m not too fond of heroics I rather prefer living. It’s a being more powerful than any god I’ve ever met.”

“Coming from a Merlin, we are in dire straits.”

“More then you will ever know, But first tell me about this disciple.”

-- Much Later - Aunt Briley’s House --

(OOC This will take place after the meeting some time later say early evening.)

As Eva stepped out of the shower and began to sort through her clothes throwing on a T-shirt and Jeans. Arthur was quite literally zapped into the room just as she slipped on her belt. “Arthur? How did, you went to Stonehenge already then?”

Behind her a woman’s voice could be heard. “Your wardrobe lacks sophistication, gaudy more like it, all these tasteless outfits.”

Turning to face her she gawks in confusion.”And who - is this? goddy what is that? You aren’t talking about my clothes are you, I like them thank you very much.”

“Illiterate. Of course she is. Well, I’m Merlin from another world. This is where things usually get complicated so instead of explaining..” Merlin said as Eva was transported away from her room and into the middle of a dark alleyway in Lost Haven.

“Where.. Wha..” Eva said in a daze as she spun around wildly.

“Was teleporting her like that really necessary.” Arthur spoke from a rooftop.

To which Merlin simply smiled and spoke.”This is a trial by fire after all. Why not, and I’d rather not bother repeating myself.”

Eva stood in the middle of the alleyway as she raised her arms in frustration yelling out.”CAN I AT LEAST GET SHOES AND A HOODIE!!” As a low growl began rumbling behind her a beast resembling a T-Rex mixed with that of a squid reared it’s tentacled head.

“Oh. Shit.. That’s.. New.” It raised it’s head and began to roar tentacles flapping wildly as spit splattered over the concrete. And before her shoes which she just became aware of. “WELL AT LEAST I WON’T FREEZE! THANK YOU FOR THE GODDAMN HOODIE!!”

Icon soared above the vast wooded area outside of Lost Haven which contained Settler’s Clearing, which would serve as the site of this meeting of metas. He still didn’t know exactly what this was all about, but with recent events he was pretty sure that it had something to do with this Pax Metahumana, or perhaps the entity known as Umbraxis. Icon also feared that it could be some sort of trap, however he was confident that he could deal with whatever situation arose. Within moments, Icon could see the motley crew of assembled heroes in the clearing below. From his vantage point he could make out the two speedsters that he had met during the battle with Umbraxis, who he remembered were called Thunderbolt and Boom. There was also a young woman who he remembered from D-Day, though they never formally met, he also saw the black clad cat-like hero he knew was the one called Lyger pull up in a muscle car.

Icon made his descent and landed among the other heroes, minus the host of this get together who was conspicuous by his absence. That soon changed as a limo pulled up to the group of gathered heroes. Soon, the host of the “event” emerged from the car and approached the gathering of heroes.

“I apologize for the delay. My appointment with the Miss March from the Viera Magazine ran over a little longer than I expected.” When Chris realized that the others were giving him a blank stare as their response to his comment, he tried to qualify his statement. “Hey, when someone, who usually dates superstars and models, discovers that their date actually understands half of the scientific mumbo-jumbo, he might want to extend the night out a little bit.”

“Okay, so before we begin, I would like to match up names with faces. While we all know who Icon is,” Chris gestured towards the blue and silver superman, “Unless you want me to refer to you all as the Quicksilver twins, the Black Panther, and Electra, we might want to do a short little ice breaker.”

“I’ll start. I’m Christopher Arthur III. Playboy millionaire and philanthropist. However, you might better know me as Iron Knight, who helped most of you, whom, if my memory serves me correctly, were all involved with stopping that whole Demon Invasion fiasco.”

”Well, if the invitation was not clear enough, we’re here to discuss this situation.” A recording of the broadcasted message of the man, who had threatened to give everyone in the world superhuman powers, was played by the holographic projector. “A little over 24 hours ago, this aired on national and international television, as I am sure you all have seen. I have called this meeting so that we could decide the proper course of action. While S.T.R.I.K.E. is scrambling around Lost Haven to find this device, I would like to be able to have a ‘Plan B’ in my pocket, just in case everything goes to hell.”

“About a few weeks ago, I had encountered a small facility in West Virginia that was producing a chemical that seemed to develop metahuman powers in regular people. At first, I was not quite sure whether the man in that broadcast was associated with the people who I encountered in West Virginia. However, after corroborating the broadcast’s story about his followers stopping a ‘terrorist’ from tainting one of Lost Haven’s water supplies with this crude video that was taped by an eye witness, I am convinced that they are one and the same.” The video changed to the home video of the event where the group of metahumans were confronting War-Pulse. However, the quality of the video made it difficult to discern the identities of the metahumans captured in the tape. “In this video, you will see this large, shark-like man. I fought that same man in West Virginia. So I feel it is safe to assume that these two events are not mere coincidences.”

“Therefore, before we decide anything, I would recommend that we recruit a few others who might provide us with some useful intel about this group.” The holographic projector changed the image that it was displaying again, this time showing images of Raptor, Wasp, and Arachne. “I found these three artificial metahumans at that West Virginian facility. I don’t know whether you all have seen them before, but hopefully they can give us some more insight into what we’re getting ourselves into.”

Then, an image of War-Pulse appeared over the holographic projector. While S.T.R.I.K.E. did not have much on this figure, by using his own memory and the video feed from his armor, Chris was able to develop an approximate recreation of what War-Pulse might look like. “For those who helped us during the Demon Invasion, this guy might look familiar. I cannot for the life of me remember if he mentioned his name then, but for our purposes here, let’s call him ‘Winter Soldier’, in order to keep with the ‘Marvel’ theme. From the video footage that I had just shown you a few minutes ago, it appears that this metahuman had quite a scuffle with the people who are threatening to change everyone into metahumans. Just as with the other metahumans, hopefully this ‘Winter Soldier’ will know what we’re up against.”

“So, any questions before we continue?”

“I know these three.” Icon said as he pointed to the images of Raptor, Wasp, and Arachne.
“The spider girl and I fought together against Ares and Polemos. And as for the other two, I helped them get rid of some kidnappers and took them…to a place I know. They mentioned they live in Albany.”



Lyger waited impatiently as the other heroes arrived. This was the very spot that he and Addy had revealed their dual identities to one another, and the memories of that night made him feel uneasy, especially with the abrupt end of their relationship. Icon was the last hero to arrive before a stretched limo pulled up in front of the assembled group, and Chris Arthur himself got out of the vehicle and casually made his way over to the group.

Lyger listened as Arthur prattled on, giving each of the heroes a cute nickname expect for Icon, and he figured that Icon was left off that list because Arthur knew that Icon could probably punt him into the sun. As Arthur went on about ice breakers and then, unsurprisingly talked more about himself, Lyger found himself growing more and more impatient as the seconds ticked by.

“I’m Lyger.” He growled when Arthur looked in his direction. “And we’re wasting time. We aren’t doing any good out here playing in the woods. What’s your plan, or are you just going to keep us here singing ‘Kumbaya’all night?”

Then Arthur pulled up holographic images of several other meta humans. Lyger didn’t know any of them first hand. But then, he saw an image that he did recognize. A man that he had hoped he would never cross paths with again, War-Pulse, who he had encountered when a local gang had attacked the Lost Haven University Fall Carnival. War-Pulse was ruthless as he gunned down the gang members, and was more than indignant when Lyger had confronted him about it.

“This…Winter Soldier. He’s a mercenary that goes by the name of War-Pulse. He’s almost as powerful as Icon over there, but he’s nothing more than a murderer for hire. He won’t help us, unless you write him a very big check.”

A consummate professional, Warden was more than capable of keeping up with Sherlock. While he was nowhere close to the AI’s intricacies of datawork and coding, he was extremely potent in it from just being a human being with no powers. While it took a few more pieces of code, Warden was able to simply attach certain lines of code to Sherlock’s packet, allowing him to be used as a remote access point in assisting the AI in shutting down the base’s defenses.

However, this was also a very opportune moment for the merc, now being able to see exactly what STRIKE was capable of. While the AI was right in its assumption they would not trace his involvement with such a target such as Sherlock, it was far too hard to pass up collecting some of the disabled data and schematics that STRIKE possessed. The AI would most likely notice, but there was no denying it’s usefulness later on, and on top of that, the AI had Angel as a more important concern. Whenever Sherlock would break a program or disable a protocol, Warden made a point to collect even a piece of it, hopefully to reconstruct it later on his own time. Nevertheless, when Sherlock gave the advice to split, Warden was succinct and quick to adhere.

“I’ll make sure the two of them don’t come to blows. You make sure you get out of here intact...it seems like your friend really counts on you in more ways the one. We will speak again soon.”

And with that, Warden’s signature disappeared from the grid. His IP reconfigured on the spot as soon as the left, leaving no trace of his interaction with either the AI or STRIKE’s database. It would only take him a few minutes to re-configure to War-Pulse’s comm frequency, but the two on the ground wouldn’t get into anything too heated, right?



Upon hearing Equilibrium’s comment War-Pulse was only able to blurt out “Wait, what--” before the sound of the jump jets drowned him out, the robotic frame of the ATD jettisoning out of the base and tearing through the hole into open air.

“Well, guess I’m covering you then! Real glad we’re establishing such good communications for this dangerous jailbreak!” He sarcastically snapped back into his comm link. The mercenary was quick to follow, with a rippling burst of energy catapulting him after the mech in a streak of blue light, tearing off in front of the ATD . Of course, at this point Sherlock and Warden had done a fairly good job temporarily shutting down the STRIKE base, the Anti Air cannons lining the base's exterior remained silent during their exit. However, as crafty as the plan had been, there was still one oversight in the escape.

The hanger bay.

Even with the base temporarily on lockdown, the airships were separate systems, possibly with analog interfaces instead of digital, and War-Pulse had no guarantee that Equilibrium's powers or Sherlock's hacking skill would be able to disable the fighter jets while they were busy with other activities. It was much safer to prevent them from taking off rather than risk being chased down by a hail of heat seeking missiles.

Breaking off from Equilibrium's flight path, the mercenary came back around to the base's single runway. As this base was built into a mountainside, there was barely enough even terrain to have more that one, which had been a calculated risk for STRIKE in exchange for being very well hidden and given superior cover by the rocky outcropping.

One that would not pay off well in this case.

Coming around the base, the mercenary was able to take note that while he was back in range, the soldiers were taking potshots with their firearms. The pinging noise of bullets ricocheting off of his kinetic barrier ring out as he rocketed towards the base's single runway. Small arms had little effect on his trajectory, but it was enough of a nuisance that a few kinetic blasts were loosed back into the squads below.

With enough aerial maneuvers, War-Pulse made his way over the runway. In his hand began to appear a small blue ball, a sphere of focus kinetic energy packed into a throwable package. Like a baseball pitcher, the mercenary wound back, the energy ball crackling and distorting, turning him into a small beacon of light in the air.

“Hey! STRIKE Assholes!” War-Pulse called out, his voice booming down to the hangar bay to the pilots desperately trying to get their planes into the air. “When your boss comes by and sees what happened, tell him War-Pulse says hello!”

With his words, the mercenary sent his kinetic package straight down, hurtling into the ground with impressive speed, the air rippling as the ball rocketed through it. As it connected, the ground seemed to implode only for a brief second before a mighty explosion rocked the paved runway, pulverizing the concrete and reducing it into a rocky crater, the length of the runway becoming entirely unusable. Before the ground even finished shaking, War-Pulse was off again, chasing after the ATD with a smirk on his face, knowing that STRIKE now had no way to pursue for a while.

The flight indeed took half an hour, as Equilibrium had so dutifully explained before. The flight was rather silent at the beginning, the adrenaline of the hard-fought escape beginning to wear off, making way for the unsettling tension that came with being enemies only a few days ago. Of course, War-Pulse was always the first to break the ice in this situation, and this would be no exception.

“Soooo...you probably don’t want to hear things from me, given the last time we talked I threw a truck at your head…but can we talk?” War-Pulse asked. “You don’t really have to say anything, to be honest. And it isn't like you can stop me from saying my piece, either. You said yourself that you don’t have any defensive abilities while we’re going to your homebase. So you might as well sit back and listen to what I got on my mind.”

The mercenary manuered his way to the ATD’s front, flying with his back to the ground and staring into the metallic frame’s front. He knew the kid could hear him, Equilibrium hacked into his comm link, there was no way the guy wasn’t listening to him right now.

“Now look, I’m going to be upfront with you...I know what you did with the helicopter back on the night of the riots. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that helicopters don’t just fall out of the sky onto your head, and on top of that, you aren’t the only one with an analytical program on your side, Mine’s just organic.”

The merc sighed, crossing his arms as he spoke. “Look, here me out, between you and me, that’s one hell of a move. It was ballsy and cutthroat, one hell of a shot in the dark in an attempt to put me down. Sure, it didn’t work, but you wouldn’t have known unless you tried, right? So while others are judging you for it, I’m just impressed you had the gumption to try such a move. That’s the kind of ‘never say die’ potential I rarely see.

However, here’s the flipside of this conversation, and subsequently the point I want to make. If it’s not clear to you by this point; I’m kind of a piece of shit, and due to my past track record, I don’t think you’ll find many who don’t agree with that statement. My morals are screwy as hell, I take whoever gives me money to do literally whatever...Hell, before I was hired to rescue you I tried to poison the city with something that I now entirely regret doing, and you know what? I don’t hold it against anyone that they’re going to probably blame me for it.”

War-Pulse let out a shaky chuckle, rubbing his eyes with a hand as he flew. “But that’s something I’m going to deal with later, and I’ll own up to it when the time comes. That’s not the point…the point is if someone like me is agreeing with an action like the one you took, then what does it say about what you did?”

He glanced upward at the destination, by this point they were getting closer, the bustling coming back into view in the distance. His brow furrowed, a stony grimace coloring his face as he looked over the rapidly closer city.

“Bah...Chances are you aren’t even listening to me, it’s not like I can tell behind that bucket of bolts…” His body turned back over, letting his chest point towards the ground once more as he began to decelerate, falling behind the ATD so it could lead him to the garage. “Whatever, thought I'd just say my piece, damned if you care or not. Still...take it from someone who threw his ethical judgement away far too long ago. Stand by your actions, but let your actions stand for who you are and what you believe...or else you end up without a moral to stand on when the finger is pointed your way.”

With that, he disappeared from the ATD’s view, now lagging behind with a more somber look on his face. His brow furrowed now, lips pursed and contorted. Where the hell did that come from?

Of course, like one of the geeks in high school that suddenly got invited to the biggest party of the year, I was one of the first ones to get to Settler’s Clearing. Not the first, the speedy twins were there before me, and the cat guy got there right around the same time as me in his fancy black car. But still, I was there waiting like an idiot for what felt like an eternity. In typical Arthur fashion, he was late.

The he showed up. Not Arthur, the guy who put this whole thing together, but HIM. Icon. The way he swept in from the sky was just like something out of the movies, but this was no movie, it was happening right in front of me. When he touched down on the ground I was immediately drawn to him. The way that his mere presence commanded attention was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It was exciting.

Plus, he was cuter in person.

We all stand around waiting, until finally a limo pulls up to the gathering, and Arthur gets out and makes some lame excuse about his date running long. I’ve never met him before, but Christopher Arthur III has a certain…reputation. And from what I can tell, he’s earned it. After joking about being on a date with someone who isn’t a complete moron, he starts to insult all of us except for Icon by giving us stupid nicknames, and then suggests a small icebreaker so we can introduce ourselves.

While we stand around making small talk, I find myself inching closer and closer to Icon. Before I know it, Arthur is looking right at me and I realize that it’s my turn to talk.

“I’m Radiance.” I say with an air of confidence that I hope no one else can tell is completely put on. “What do you say we get on with this?”

“Let me quickly get these names down.” Chris pulled out his cell phone and punched in the names of the gathered superhumans for future reference. “As you can tell from the nicknames, I’m not the best at remembering names with faces. It took me a couple weeks to get my assistant’s name down. Isn’t that right, um…”

“Minerva.” His assistant replied, a little annoyed that he still could not recall her name. If he had known her true identity as the Goddess Athena, Chris would otherwise have no problems learning her name.

“That’s right!” Chris snapped his fingers, trying to make it look like he suddenly remembered the name. “Now you see why I need to get some names down!”

“So, first we have Icon. I don’t think I need to record that name down. Ever since he made his presence known in Lost Haven, the paparazzi has been running around like chicken with their heads cut off as they tried to get some sort of snap shot of him.”

“Then the Quicksilver twins are Thunderbolt and Boom.” Chris was amused by the choice by this brother-sister duo to give themselves a codename that alluded to how the boom of thunder always follows the flash of lightning. While, technically speaking, thunder and lightning are the same phenomena, since one is the sound and the other the light, due to the laws of nature, the light of the weather effect reaches the human eyes before the thunder’s crash could reach the human ear.

“And Black Panther is Lyger. Interesting choice.” What Chris meant by this was that ligers, particularly male ones, are seen in popular culture as being naturally sterile. While relatively recent research has shown this is not always the case, especially with female ligers, it still amused Chris that this hot-headed youth would take the inspiration for his superhero handle from a feline that is usually seen as sterile. Maybe he was trying to invoke the fact that ligers were generally larger than their tiger relatives. “Do you spell that with an ‘i’?”

Last, but not least, was Radiance. While Chris was not bothered by it, his assistant, Minerva, noticed that Radiance had been standing close by Icon. Minerva was at least relieved that she would not have to rearrange the group assignments for the first missions because of any ‘hanky-panky’, although she would have to keep an eye out for Boom, who had also made a comment about Icon’s attractiveness. However, Minerva was not surprised. Would you expect otherwise from a group of fit mortals dressed in skin-tight clothing?

“I know you are all restless about starting already, so let’s get going. But first, I would like to address Thunderbolt and Lyger’s concern over this so-called ‘War-Pulse’, as Lyger called him. While he might be a mercenary, he did help out on D-Day. Anyways, he got embarrassed by these guys who are behind this metahuman-inducing dome, so he should have a few incentives to join us. And if he doesn’t come willingly, we will try to give him a few more incentives to join the cause.”

“The first mission will be recruiting the two kids in Albany. While I would like to send Icon to fetch them, he’s more needed in our little hunt for War-Pulse. Therefore, Lyger and Radiance will go to Albany and by whatsoever means bring them back here. Preferably as willing participants.”

“You might not want to mention Mr. Arthur’s name to these two kids and especially not to the ‘Spider-Girl’ because of that West Virginia incident.” Minerva handed two manila folders over to the two superhumans, which contained information about Zac and Kelly’s whereabouts and personal information that S.T.R.I.K.E. had gathered so far. “If you need transportation to Albany, we can provide you with it.”

“Come on! It was S.T.R.I.K.E. standard protocol! If they had not suddenly disappear on us, might have a better understanding of whatever agent these ‘terrorists’ are planning to use in their superhuman-inducing dome. And it hurts just thinking about that ‘Spider-Girl’.”

“She decked him during D-Day, if you didn’t already know.” Minerva mentioned as she gathered the remaining folders that contained the little information about War-Pulse.

“I’ll be talking Icon, Thunderbolt, and Boom to ‘persuade’ War-Pulse into joining our little cause.” Chris continued on with the assignments as he ignored what his assistant had just said.

“From the intelligence that I have just received, War-Pulse was recently near a S.T.R.I.K.E. base. If we hurry, we can intercept the mercenary before he can slip into hiding.” Minerva had just received the information on her cell phone. While it might have seemed to the others like she had gotten the information from intelligence gathered by S.T.R.I.K.E., Helios had actually alerted Minerva of War-Pulse’s location. That little bit of information was on a ‘need to know’ basis.

“I assume you three don’t need any means of transportation. I’ll meet you all there.” Chris then turned to the two superhumans who were not going after War-Pulse. “When you have finished your task, return back here in Lost Haven. I have recently purchased a luxury hotel in Sherman Square. I got it for dirt cheap because of basically everything bad that happens in Lost Haven happens in Sherman Square. While the renovations are not complete, it should work as a temporary base for now. We’re see you all there.”

Allura made her way down the long corridor towards the former Presidential Suite in what had once been the Charonian Presidential Palace. Since the organization known as The Crimson Talon took control of the nation, and wiped out the rebellion that had followed, the former Presidential Palace had undergone a number of drastic changes, the most glaring of which was the conversion of the Presidential Suite into a throne room. The throne room itself was less like the royal throne rooms of years gone by, and more like a command center where Forsaken and his inner circle kept themselves informed of current events and made decisions on policy, both domestic and foreign.

Allura nodded to the Elite Guards who stood watch just outside the entrance of the throne room, and smirked slightly as she passed them. She always found it amusing that Forsaken had chosen to have guards posted just outside his door when he was more than capable of eliminating any threat posed to him, himself. As she entered the throne room she found that the room was uncharacteristically empty. There were none of the inner circle or advisers. The room was completely empty, save for her father, Omnus, and Forsaken himself.

“You summoned me, Beloved.” Allura stated as she entered the room. Allura had been Forsaken’s lover since shortly after she and her father had joined forces with Forasken in The Crimson Talon. At first she resented being offered to the man as if she were some sort of livestock to be sold or traded at the whims of her father, however soon she became grateful for her position. Forsaken had proven to be a powerful man more than worthy of her affection, and soon she realized that this man was indeed her soulmate. And a formidable duo they had become.

“I have.” Forsaken said simply. “Have seen the reports coming from America?”

“Which reports? There are many to consider, you must be more specific.” She said, half joking. While it was true that there were many disturbing events currently going on in America in the recent weeks, there would only be one which would illicit such a response from Forsaken.

“This situation in Lost Haven is most disturbing.” Forsaken said.
“Ah yes, this so called Pax Metahuman.” Allura said knowingly.

“Yes.” Forsaken said bluntly. “If this terrorist can do what he says and artificially create a condition which would make everyone human being on Earth a meta human…” he paused for a moment before continuing. “We cannot allow that to happen.”

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t see the problem.” Allura partly teased. She was very well aware of the problems that could arise if everyone were suddenly like them. However, she learned a long time ago that although she is just as capable of running their regime as any of the men in The Crimson Talon, if not more so, it suited her interests to allow them

“If this terrorist were successful, it would throw the entire globe into chaos, and that is not something that I can allow.” Forsaken told her.

“Of course, Beloved.” Allura agreed.

“This is why you are to accompany your father and Helos to Lost Haven. I want you to investigate this matter further. Do not interfere with the so called heroes of that city, as I assume many of them will also be looking into the matter. Report to me as soon as you find anything and I will join you there to deal with these terrorists myself.” Forsaken told her.

“Of course. However, what should we do if any of these…heroes interfere in our work?” Allura asked.

“Destroy them all.”