“I still don’t understand sir, the Ironworks was one of our most prominent safe houses. Why are we cutting our losses and not rebuilding it?”

Specter adjusted his weight his small, quaint little chair in the indoor seating of La Rose Solitaire, a Cafe on the edge of town and one of The Cowl’s favorite places to contemplate his next move. The Cowl had purchased it personally through a number of third parties several years ago. It was not a safe house, nor was it a trafficking or smuggling checkpoint, in fact The Cowl had gone through great lengths to make sure that not even the Shroud Syndicate was aware that he even had interest in the establishment. He had purchased this place for one reason and one reason alone; the coffee. He had fallen in love with the smooth, sensual grounds, the care that went into every cup of coffee was unparalleled since the Shroud’s expansion into Europe.

He never told anyone he went here, never hinting that he even knew this place was on the radar, keeping even the closest of the Syndicate affiliates in the dark on his secret hideaway. But whenever he disappeared, La Rose was where he would be. The only other people to even know of La Rose’s existence was Specter and the cafe owner, Louis. He always made room for the Cowl when the kingpin made a reservation, taking great care to let his employees take some time off and close the cafe down for the morning. The place was all but abandoned, the ‘closed’ sign swinging on the cafe’s entrance as the pair of criminals discussed their future in a darkened corner of the small establishment, away from the prying eyes in the windows.

“Specter, it’s been months, we aren’t in a business where we can wallow in despair over every chance we take that does not pan over,” The Cowl said, his face was obscured by a wide-brimmed hat shadowing his face, only allowing to see the warm smile on his face as he brought the elaborately decorated cup to his lips. “We took a risk, and we failed, we did not hide well enough and were were caught woefully unprepared for the assault we fell victim to. In the kind of world we live in, busts of that kind of nature are going to happen, and the best we can do in these situations. The best we can do in these situations is to look at the mistakes that were made and remedy them for the next occurence, and that starts with not making our safe houses and activities so obvious.”

“Sir, you have to know that was not just a simple bust.” Specter said, adjusting the polo shirt he wore as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Neither he nor the Cowl were in their trademark attires. No masks, no suits, no extravagant attires to separate them from the other cafe patrons, only casual attire in the cafe. They were seated in the corner, away from the windows, even with nobody knowing they were here, it was never safe enough for The Cowl to completely let his guard down “The Ironworks was one of our primary hubs for trade here in the city, and metahumans tore straight through it. The underworld is beginning to stir, and it’s other factions are starting beginning attempts to gain traction. Word has it that someone by the name of ‘The Baron’ has begun stepping into our territory, and many Syndicate cells are turning up dead or missing, assumedly by his hand. However, there is another player on the field as well, we’ve got eyes on the streets that some of our own boys have lost faith in our organization, and have been stealing our resources and sending it to an unknown third party.”

“Yes, it only makes sense now that there is metaphorical blood in the water, the sharks are appearing in the water looking for their opportunity to strike.” The Cowl responded, his wide-brimmed hat shadowing the face enough to obscure everything but a charming smile and a strong, tan jawline. “I’ve heard of the Baron before, and this is not the first time he’s taken a swing at Syndicate resources. He rules the West Coast of America through numerous gangs and third party affiliates, placing his group under his name alone rather than unifying under a banner. He's been around as long as I have...maybe longer, and simply managed to keep his name under wraps. Like me, he came out of nowhere, a rising star in the west, only expanding nationally he simply grew his assets exponentially until he had a local goldmine.”

“So we’re dealing with a very powerful man.” Specter said.

The Cowl chuckled, leaning forward and pressing his elbows onto the table. “I should say so. Back when I was expanding our trade in Nevada, I got a first-hand look at his dealings when The Syndicate were hollowing out a bit of recently abandoned territory in Las Vegas. We had recently been come across some abandoned territory, taking advantage of Vegas' lack of business during the great recession by buying up a series of cheaper casinos as safehouses. Sure, we had enemies there, and we tried to deal with them accordingly...but with the Baron? We could never gain the edge.” The Cowl sighed, his eyes glossing over as memory overtook him. "He must have been an incredible dealer. He knew how to outmaneuver my men, anyone I sent to his territory usually ended up dead or on his side. He knew who to bribe, who to smile at, who to intimidate...a criminal most admirable in the ways he undercut out business. We had hard times getting into the gun and trafficking trades, and he had a downright stranglehold on the cocaine business...if I didn't know any better, I'd say I was playing a game of chess against myself in that town.

The Specter’s brow furrowed, he could see the concern in The Cowl’s face, very rarely did he have issue with the dirtier elements of his position, yet he was struggling to explain what happened. It was rare to see the current Kingpin of Lost Haven act anything other than collected. “So what should we do with him?”

“Give him a warm welcome, send an olive branch and see if he’s willing to do business.” The Cowl said, gesturing freely with his empty hand as he placed the coffee cup back down on the table. “However, I’ve only assumed he has no interest in such a truce if he’s come this far, so we should expect the worse. I’d suggest we poke at his resources, see what kind of operations he is running, possibly delve into what kind of powers we are really dealing with.”

“And what of the mystery third party? The figure who is stealing Syndicate money? Do you think they’re connected?”

“Not in the slightest.” The Cowl said with a scoff, waving Specter’s accusation off with a flick of his wrist. “The Baron's sending a message right now to get my attention, he does not need to steal from me yet. It’s someone else...and I’ve got a fairly good hunch who it is.”

“You do?”

“Yes, but with our current situation, we don’t need to go on a witch hunt. We have eyes on the streets, in the city council, the mayor’s office, and in the police department. If anyone in the Syndicate roots out this mysterious interloper who’s converting our men on the street, we’ll get word one way or another.”

“Of course, sir.” Specter said, scratching at his greying goatee as he sulked back in his chair. Without the mask Specter was really beginning to show his age, the beginnings of wrinkles in his skin revealed as he furrowed his brow as he reached for his own cup.

“Not to mention the problem that we have other, more dire matters at hand.” The Cowl remarked, letting a huff of disappointment escape his lips. “Mainly the fact there has been no progress on the relocation of Racheli. GeneCo has been increasing the pressure on their trade agreements and Jacqueline is on the verge of her patience on the matter.”

“Right, men all over the city heard your call looking for the one you said was named ‘Gabriel’.” The Specter said, his fingers wrapping around a coffee cup of his own to take a brief sip. “However, without a last name or more information, there is little we can really do to follow up. There has been numerous sightings of the metal-clad man, but nothing of substance other than saving the day. The same goes for the one called ‘Evergreen’, though he is far more active in the city, but other than monitoring his abilities from a safe distance, there is little more we can do than observe possible weaknesses.”

“And Racheli? What about her?”

“Much more difficult, she does not wear superhuman attire and does not go out of the way to get herself spotted like the others. Our boys don’t have a lot to go on in this case, so finding her is near-impossible in a city like Lost Haven.”

The Cowl sat in silence for a moment, his eyes locked in the swirling fluid in his coffee cup, occasionally darting to the half-eaten scones in the center of the table.

“In that case, it sounds like traditional methods have failed.” The Cowl eventually respond. “I suppose that is to be expected, the Syndicate has not fully adapted to meta human trafficking yet. No matter, I already have a backup plan in motion.”

“Oh? And what plan would that be?”

“Let’s leave that to me for the time being. It’s still very much in infancy stage and I’d rather not divulge into it if it doesn’t go off the ground. I’ll forward my plan to Jacqueline tomorrow and see if she is on board with it.”

Specter only gave a frown and a glance from over the steam of his coffee, holding the glare for a second before glancing to the window in the front of the establishment. He disliked when The Cowl kept things on a need to know basis, especially when the only other person who is going to be informed was GeneCo’s CEO. He knew that GeneCo had a lot of product the Syndicate could peddle, but they were company that was hard to trust, especially knowing what they know. There was never any guarantee that GeneCo would grab onto a better opportunity and leave the Shroud in the dust.

“Hm...I believe it’s time to leave for now. We have plenty of work to do if everything will continue to run smoothly.” The Cowl started again, motioning to the cafe proprietor. “Louis! I would appreciate the check, please!”

The man the Cowl beckoned, a man somewhere in his 40s judging by the slight hunch in his form. He was short man, well dressed in a clean polo and slacks as he nodded to the criminal kingpin, his French accent coming through as he responded in a nervous tone. “Of course, monsieur Cowl.”

He fiddled with the receipt, scuttling over to the Cowl in a hurried but careful manner, making sure to approach the Cowl in a respectful manner, sliding the check to him. “Your total today is--”

The Cowl raised a hand to Jaque to cut him off, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out a firm stack of bills. “I pay for this place to keep standing, Louis, and I always will. You have the best coffee in all of Lost Haven, combined with the best scones I’ve ever had.”

“T...thank you sir.” The baffled cafe owner stammered out, placing his hand on the money and taking it delicately.

“Oh, and how is your family by the way?”

“O-Oh...well my daughter just got accepted to college on a scholarship for her grades…”

“Ah, so she’s going to school for biology like she wanted?”

“Y...yes sir.”

“You must be so proud.” The Cowl said, giving the man a genuine, borderline kindly smile, as if the simplicity of Louis’ life soothed in some manner. “Please, take a portion of that money and put it to her college. After all, in this day and age, we’re going to need all the scientists we can get.”

Nothing pissed Rach off more than having her stupidity get the better of her. Silently, she already berated herself and cursed over her earlier risk by the time she escaped the light. Now those actions that likely would make her pay in the future because her desire for answers drove her to acting before thinking. There wasn’t anything she could do save for wait for the incoming damage to reach its peak. She would deal with it when it came, and not before.

A liquid silver moved across her face. It drowned her features, hiding them underneath, then formed a monstrous shape. In a few moments, it solidified into something Rach hoped would encourage intimidation over Cowl’s thugs and assist her in finding what she was looking for. A small part of her doubted it would’ve been super effective through but she still kept it.

Drawing near the end of the alleyway, Rach peered out to see exactly where she was. ChinaTown. Most the vendors were tucked into the alley sides and packed tightly together, conserving space, and closed for the night. The activity she might’ve seen in the daylight avoided the scene surprisingly as she edged farther out into the walkway. A red, chinese symbol marked a nearby wall space causing her to pause long enough to memorize it easily. Her gut stirred uneasily, assuming it was some gang marker for territory, but dwelling on the fact she knew nothing would not help her. However, she knew one thing: she was lost. Inwardly groaning at her decision to shut off all ‘enhanced’ abilities, she quickly resume moving through the streets.

Last thing she needed was to be caught out in the open. She had hoped to wound up in Sherman Square after she arrive, her experience sneaking out of the forge being a difficult one to muscle through, and not wanting Gabriel to try to talk ‘sense’ into her about her decision. It would’ve ended with her fist finding a target in his face then still plow through his defenses. Rach hoped she would’ve discovered any information over Cowl before anyone found her. Especially Odette or her companion. Her fist tightened when she recalled the man’s attempt to rip her confidence into pieces, using what he knew of her against her and drained her confidence in herself.

She hated manipulation above everything else because while she could resist it, wounds were still made. They just failed to be on the outside. Inhaling and letting her breath out, leaving no misty breath at all, she pushed her fisted hands into her jean pockets. Her hips held that little defiant swagger she adopted since she became a teenager. With her face hidden, she gradually let her worry drift away.

Interesting enough, Racheli always enjoyed the peaceful quiet of the night scene. Too bad it was immediately ruined by her least favorite voice breaking her peace.

‘You realize your task is pointless, right?’ Michael materialized too far into her comfort zone, his feet matching her pace easily. He wore her father’s camouflage coat, jeans, and heavy boots which meant he was clearly mocking her current mission in a subtle way. His hands slipped into his pockets and kept up easily, his eyes narrowed on her with an expectation she would answer him back. Instead she merely remained silence in her walk. He sighed, feigning annoyance, then pushed ahead of her.

His figure whipped into her path causing Rach to stop dead in her tracks on instinct. She glared at him through the mask, the darkness in them slithered to create two way gaps and reveal her hardened eyes. There was heat in her irises focusing on him causing the virus to smile innocently. He spoke gently to soothe her irritation, riling up higher instead. ‘What are you hoping to do? You won’t find what you’re looking for and worst yet, you revealed the fact you were in town. Gabriel will certainly enjoy that fact after all the trouble he went through to hid you in the first place.’

“Shut up and leave me the fuck alone.”

’You know that’s impossible?’

“Just go back to your damn little corner of my mind and stay there. I’m fine without you.” Rach huffed, her figure started to move around the hallucination and continue on.

Michael wasn’t done however and shifted with her, still blocking her escape. ‘Ah, I’m not finished. If that was an example of your methods, we’ll be found before you learn anything…’

Racheli didn’t say anything.

What could she say that would make this situation any better? The question rumbled through her thoughts, drawing her anger and hatred to the surface. Red clouded over her vision as it swirled in front of her like a red flag, baiting her to react. Her fist tighten at her side, vaguely aware it had managed to slip from her pocket, as she narrowed her eyes upon him. As much as she hated the virus, she couldn’t deny she had fucked up royally. The reality seemed to build up causing her chest to subtly heave and briefly her arm twitched in reaction. It stopped just a moment before actually tossing the punch, her foot stepping back then pushing past.

Michael watched, eyed her carefully, but said nothing farther. However, a smirk crossed his face at her display. ”You’re going to make me to try harder, aren’t you Racheli?”

Casually, the mental illusion wavered then vanished completely from sight.

China TOwn. Lost Haven.
Feat Rachel vs Jade Spider Triads

"You lost lady?" A voice rang out from the alleyway. A man stepped out off the shadows. He was wearing a charcoal black suit and rocked facial hair that would make a hong kong movie from the 80's embarassed. His hands were tucked into the opposite sleeves. There was some grunting laughter from around Rachel as others stepped out from the shadows. These were more casually dressed, some in regular street clothes. Others in what could be buisness casual, only none wore the suit jacket and most had their sleeves up to show off the intricate spiderweb tattoes.

"This here is Jade Spider territory. And there is a tax to move on these streets night time." The man in the suit said, not showing his hands but stepping a bit closer. "You get me?"

'Shit!' Rach spat inwardly.

She was still heated from her conversation with the virus, a fact she contributed to her riled up emotions despite the fact it happened so fast and distrubingly easily. The woman might've been a hot tempered bitch at times but she had some restraint when being baited into a fight. Her eyes focused on the men emerging from around the scene and seemed to encircle her, her figure now penned in shortly afterward.

Her mask has defaulted back to its original state and for a moment, she was glad she couldn't be recogonized. It might not be the case for long though as not many individuals bled black blood. Inhaling, she slowly folded up her arms to cross over her chest with her hips cocked in waiting. Naturally she spoke, her voice unmodified since she still hadn't figured how Gabe had done it, to the 'King of Siam' who had spoken to her earlier. "Yeah, but sadly you're a bit out of luck. Used the last of my change on some cheap ramen noodles and got nothing on me. Though, I'll be blunt. Can't say I'm familiar with your name nor do I want to. Now, could you move or do I need to do it for you?"

"Sassy. Shame. But we got many places for a girl with a mouth on her. If Madam don't break you, I know people who can. " The man said as he circled her to the left. "Move us?" He spoke silently, and some venom crept into his voice. He spread his hands, a chain seemed to materialize out of thin air. "With a attitude like that, you are either a meta or plain dumb."

'Great... he had to be a meta, didn't he? The bastard upstairs just couldn't give me a break, could he? Of course not. Where is robo boy when I actually need him now?'

"My biggest strength was never being smart, I'll admit." Rach didn't like the way he spoke, a clear indication she wasn't going to like their plans, and sorely started to wish she hadn't shut off her extra sensory abilities at this very time. The mention of breaking her riled her pride and will, her head turned to face the speaker with a glare.

Pain as they were, namely with focus, they had saved her a few times in limiting the damage when she could manage to multitask. Inwardly monitoring and manually controlling your own senses wasn't nearly as easy as it sounded, all the while still trying to interact with the world, and she often kept it off for her own sanity. This fight was going to be hellish she realized while trying to debate on what to do. Unlike Gabe, she wasn't sure how much damage they could take before they went down and last thing she wanted was to kill them.

She could feel her virus rolling his eyes over her mental statement. Ignoring Michael's reaction, she debated on what to do to get out of this situation.

"Meta then." The man said, suprisingly levelheaded for a thug. Something nasty flashed in the back of the man eyes. A terrible intent. They didn't attack like in the movies, didn't move in one and one. These were streetfighting thugs. They came at her as a mob. They didn't care about gender. They realized she was tougher then she looked and with the tension lately they didn't wish to take so many chances. The chain shot out, wrapping around one of Racheli's ankles, tugging her legs out from under her. One man smashed a lead pipe towards her other leg. Another smashed her over the mouth with a set of knuckle dusters. This was in the very start of the fight.

Rach was a scrapper by nature, but even she preferred it to be a one on one match. A mob... hellish dangerous and she was forced right in the thick of one, thanks to her shitty luck. She went down easily, her foot tugged backwards and her balance shifted forward causing her to hit the asphalt hard. She didn't even fight the force of gravitiy as she activated her metal manipulation in a few moments.

Too bad it didn't stop all the damage, her head turned just when she spotted a knuckle duster sandwich into her teeth and took it in the cheek bone. Not brillant but she would mend quicker than the average human and the pain was more tolerable. Her legs felt the impact of the lead pipe across them causing her ball up in reaction, the next strike meeting metal contact when her skin was suddenly harder than it should've been.

She didn't have much training in physical fighting, Justine too busy and Gabe focused primarily on her ability to actually control her 'gift'. Without thinking too hard, her hand ripped off one of her glove then started to become grey. Her foot kicked out against the nearest guy's knee cap in an attempt to bring down to her level as her fingers started to flatten and sharpen, looking like five blades for slicing. She struck out blindly.

The feel of metal on metal is not a pleasant one. Especially if you are the one holding a blunt object without preperation for it. The man almost dropped his pipe from the shock. The vibrations had clearly been felt. He stepped back.

"This bitch turns in to metal." He said only for sickening crunch to interupt them as the one to punch Racheli screamed and clutched his knee. Metal kicks turned out to be much worse. That knee had popped like a grape in the oven.

Rach flinched, instinctive, at the sound popping from the impact. She realized too late she might've went a little too hard with her kick and not accounted for the fact her metal leg was much stronger in power when it landed. It still felt satisfying though.

"Then we choke her." The man in the suit simply said as he created another as one of the goons danced away from the slicing fingers. It only tore his jeans a little. The ankle chain untangled and whipped back only to smash down on the top of her head with major force.

The woman barely had any warning when the metal came down on her skull. Her arm raised and head lowered to the ground, shielding her from the blow. The metal managed to move into place just before the impact but didn't harden quite fast enough. Pain errupted along her arm, the bone felt like it cracked a bit, causing her bite down on her scream.

The pipe wielder retreated as another came into try and smash her back with a wooden bat. Shattering on her frame. That's when a voice rang out from across the street.

"You lot are must feel real big right now." The voice said. It was old, but held a fire that would make the pits of hell blush. "How many, eight? Against one girl who is clearly lost." The woman moved with easy steps and looked as limber as a panther despite her clearly advanced age. Two of the triads turned to stare at the approaching thai woman. One of them began to walk towards her with a smile that was sheer predatory. He held a long blade in his hand. The second he was in arms length, that smile vanished. As he was about to stop her, her fist smashed into his arm right by the shoulder, and her elbow went right into the solar plexus. The man coughed once before her knee made coughing into weezing, smashing his nose with a knee.

"I will give you lot ten seconds to clear." She said with a scoff. The second man hesitated. The rest, including the suit watched with interest.

Rach looked up when the beating ceased. She was sore, though the damage would've been worse if she was human, and her figure slowly started to climb back to her feet. Her balance was off and it took several moments for her to get firmly upright. She couldn't help mumbling. "She's a bit wrong about the girl part."

The second man to a proper fighting stance. Gone was the thug fighter, like a proper Jade Spider he was trained in forms of kung fu. His kicks were hard and fast, but he was too stiff, to osuprised by his friends sudden knockout. The woman checked a kick with the barest of winces and stomped his foot so hard you heard the bone crack. The man yelped but took a knee to the gut and a elbow to the temple before going down. The old lady shook her leg lightly. "I am growing too old for this." She mumbled. "Can you fight girl?" She asked Racheli as three more thugs disengaged from the mobbing of the Meta to focus on the lady.

"The damn truth? I can, but I honestly don't want to kill them." Stated bluntly, revealing the fact she hadn't been going full out and wondered if any of them actually caught that little tidbit. She was getting pissed at the situation over all. First her ass was handed to her by a bunch of street thugs and now she was getting rescued by a little old lady that had better ku fung than she did. The day was just...fucking perfect.

Mr Charcoal suit stepped back and created more chains. Eyes never leaving Racheli. "Kill us huh. Oh well. Thank you for the consideration. Sadly I was never much of a gentleman." Suddenly a chain wrapped around Rachelis throat. "I will have you take a nap now."

The woman stopped then said in a calm tone. "Focus your metal in your left wrist and wrap your hand around the chain and pull. Punch with the human fist. Aim for his nose."

"Little bit of an issue.. I might end up punching his nose through his skull." Rach snapped, annoyed by the fact the woman didn't obviously understand her issues. Her throat tightened while the chain wrapped about it causing her airway to constrict, depriving her of air. She managed, surprisingly with ease, to keep them from tightening further. She stood her ground with her eyes glaring at him as she spoke. "As for you, you piece of shit. It's actually not because I care and you'll have to do a lot better than that."

"Imagine you are punching a ugly kitten then." The lady shrugged a she dodged a thugs baseball bat, and smacked her fist in the mans throat. "Control in a fight is useless without force." She said as she kicked another mans leg to the side and kneed him in the face. She moved with purpose. "Use metal for defence, normal for offence. Can you do that? Open palm strikes if you are to afraid to use your fists." She barely dodged the lead pipe guys attacked and had to step back again. She remained calm still but it was clear number still counted for something.

"Don't you think I would've done that already?...Damn it, I've already busted one guy's knee cap because I underestimated my strength and not fond of brains being scattered across the street."

Mr Suit however, had about enough. Suddenly a storm of chains whipped about Rach, hitting her all over at speeds to fast to properly dodge or absorb. "You're stronger then you look. But I noticed your metal doesn't cover all of you. I will shred you bitch. Then grandma there is gonna die nice and slow."

Rach felt the chains slam into her body. They hit her from different angles and without warning, her eyes widened as she tried to repluse them magnetically. She immediately regretted her statment afterwards if she was going to be mauled by this shit.

"His footing. If you don't wanna hit him. Then hit the ground!" Bak May shouted as she was being cornered by the remaining thugs. She took a stance unlike she had before. "I am sorry boys. But I rather I live than you." She had steel in her eyes.

Rach's hands had long ago let go of the chain on her neck. Her metal trying to cover her ass but missing several strikes, her skin brusing and busy trying to repair herself. It was only so fast however. She didn't need the air to breath, but damn it she enjoyed it and it made her feel human. Besides it seemed her brain didn't agree with the fact Gabe had told her and already, she g.

Knowing she was going to hurt like hell later, she focused her mental about her hand. Her fist solidified into a metal, flexible glove. Then she dropped to her right knee. Her fist slammed into the asphalt at an angle, causing it to shatter and break apart. Spiderwebs of cracks webbed out and toward the man attacking her. She didn't even hold back in her attack when she hit.

The street they were on shook, and cars began beeping with light and noise as car alarms were set off. The chains stopped coming as everyone was knocked to their feet. All but the old lady. Bak May as she was called had jumped just as the fist impacted. Somehow, the cunning old lady had realized it would be one hell of a impact. The now struggling to get up thugs were soon kicked across their jaws and faces and stomped to the ground with impunity. When only Mr Suit and Chains were left, she strolled up. "Nine." She said, as if she was resuming her counting from when she just arrived. The look she had on her face was one of holy, rightous wrath.

Rach just crouched there. Her figured brusied and torn, a trail of black liquid seeped from under her mask. It dripped down as she rose upright, "Shit... fuck, I'm surprised that worked."

Her mask peeled back the lower half long enough for her to wipe her busted lip.

"I didn't know you were THAT strong, girl. Now." She looked to the man who was begining to reatreat. "TELL YOUR MASTERS LITTLE THAILAND IS OFF LIMITS." She shouted at the retreating form.

"That's why I didn't want to punch him in the face. The kick I gave earlier was more of a jerk reflex than applying force."

"You have a good heart then, girl. And a clear enough mind. What is your name?"

"It's not because of him or that I value everyone's life that I chose not to kill. I have... personal reasons for it. And well, getting myself beaten up when I was human tends to help." Rach stated, then paused when her name was requested. She considered using her normal name but Gabe had made it very clear an alias was better. Especially with everyone and their brother wanting to get into good favor with the Cowl. She didn't even know how far that desire extended here in ChinaTown and honestly, didn't want to know. "My friends call me... Nemesis."

The name sounded worse when spoken outloud to her.

"...Your friend call you their mortal, eternal enemy? I hate to know what your enemies call you then." The woman said, suprisingly calm at such an absurd nickname. "Still. I guess it beats The Cabbie." She took the woman's hand and looked her in the eyes.

"You find your punches hard to pull, yes? I trained enough teenage boys to know what that is like. Do you have a place to stay?"

"How in the hell... Never mind, I don't want to fuckng know. She must be a taxi driver from New York." Rach mumbled. "I'm still learning. As for the place, no but I'll figure something out. It's not like I need food, water or sleep anymore so I'll be fine."

Rach started to pull away, her defenses rising upright and fixing in place. It was a habit, something she couldn't help and truthfully it protected others from discovering what a monster she was.

"Nonsense. I don't care if you are buddha himself come to tell me my religion is wrong. Or if you are the Holy Mother. Everyone ENJOY eating. And sleeping. And having a place to stay. You are now my guest. You wouldn't break a old lady's heart, would you?"

Rach inwardly groaned. The woman was starting to remind her of her Aunt causing a slight guilt in rise in her over the desire to push away. "It's honestly safer. They aren't the only people I've pissed off and there's really nothing in for you, so it's rather pointless to me to want to offer a place to a complete stranger."

"Do you wish to hurt others?" She said, putting her hands on her hips. A stern look in her eyes. "You don't. But you are strong. Powerful like a small god. I know a girl like that. She is stubborn. She doesn't want to bother others. Her guilt eats her up inside." She said. "She came to be stronger. You don't need that. You are strong enough. But you lack control, you lack foundation. You lack ground to stand on." She said, seeing trough Rach with suprising ease.

"More like damn practice." Rach muttered under her breath.

"I offer you not because I don't think it will be a bother. But because it is what I should do. You were delivered to me, and besides. You put some shame into these boys. They won't forget it any time soon." At the words practice she gave a toothy grin.

"I can't say I have as much faith in the man upstairs as you for me being here." Rach said grudgingly. She still blamed the asshole for her current status.

"You are talking to a multiple world champion in Thai Boxing, girl. You can leave at any time. And I promise if you endanger to much, I will tell you politely to leave so your guilt ridden ass can get going without problem." She scoffed.

"I won't be here long and likely only during the day because I do have things I have to do. However.. fuck, I can't believe I'm doing this, but I do need time to figure that out. At least call a few friends for some places I can stay during the day." Rach's instincts were screaming at her to change her mind, a familiar anxiety buidling in her chest. This was a bad idea... her senses seemed to scream but she ignored it. She didn't have any other choice if she wanted to stay underground during the day.

"Exellent. I wonder. Do you like thai food." She said as she led Rach away from prying eyes and confused newly awakened citizens.

"Had it only once." Rach answered, then followed.

Scott Hunter sat on the plush white sofa that sat in the center of Alexa’s living room. On the coffee table before him was the day’s issue of the Lost Haven Daily Globe. He was focused on an article covering the recent murder of the Esper Family, a family of superheroes who had come to prominence in the 1980’s. As a child, Scott had enjoyed the tales of Mr. and Miss Esper as told on their Saturday Morning Cartoon show. He even had their lunchbox and collected their action figures. In fact, when he was a small child, he even had a pair of the Mr. Esper footie Pajamas, and he’d pretend that he was a superhero defending the Earth from the sinister Doctor Fritz.

“….are you listening to me?” Alexa’s voice broke through the haze that had engulfed Scott’s mind as he read the gory details surrounding the death of an entire super family.

“Huh? Yeah…” Scott said noncommittally as he continued scanning the article.

“Scott, this is serious.” Alexa protested. Scott didn’t have to look to see her pout, he could feel it.

“Yeah, I know. You want to doll me up and parade me around when your parents get here. No problem.” Scott said half jokingly as he put the paper down.

“Precisely.” Alexa joked as she sat down next to Scott, placing her cup of coffee on the table next to his.

“Not that it really matters, your dad hates me.”

“Oh he does not…he’s just not sure that you can take care of me.” Alexa said, doing her best to reassure him. The truth was that her father, Jonathan Winstone, the CEO of Winstone International, and by extension, her boss, did not approve of her relationship with Scott. He believed that Scott, a small business owner, although successful in his own right, was beneath his daughter. He had told both his wife, and even Alexa that Scott was just after the family fortune and that she could do better.

“No, he hates me.” Scott said flatly.

“Yeah, he kinda hates you.” Alexa said with a laugh as she moved in for a quick kiss. “So, what’s so interesting that you were completely ignoring me?” Alexa said motioning toward the newspaper.

“Oh, just this article about the Espers.” Scott told her.

“Who?” Alexa asked.

“The Espers. They were like the first family of superheroes. I was a big fan when I was little.”

“Oh, so what happened to them?”
“Someone murdered them. Mr. and Miss Esper, and their kids.” Scott explained.

“Oh, that’s terrible. Do they--?” Alexa’s question was interrupted by the sound fire engines racing through Sherman Square with their sirens blaring. “Huh, I wonder what’s going on.”

“No Clue.” Scott said as he turned on the television and flipped it to the morning news program. The young newswoman stared deadpan into the camera as she reported on the biggest news story of the morning. A multi alarm fire had broken out in an apartment building in Little Ulster, and fire crews were struggling to battle the blaze, and had not been able to get everyone out.

“I should go.” Scott said as he made his way to the bedroom to get his uniform.

“Do you need me to go?” Alexa asked as she followed him.

“No, I think I can handle it.” He told her as he changed into his uniform in a blink of an eye. “I’ll be back in a flash.” He said as he kissed her on the cheek before bolting out of the window.

Moments later…

The scene of the fire at the Down East Gardens apartment building was a chaotic one. Fire fighters raced around frantically as they scrambled to extinguish the blaze. The police had formed a parameter around the building in an attempt to keep the ever growing crowd of bystanders from interfering with the fire fighting efforts. Icon touched down among the rows of fire trucks on the north side of the building, just behind a group of firemen who were going over the game plan for tackling the growing inferno. Captain Peter Williams stood with one of his men as he was getting reports from all fronts of the blaze. The middle aged fire captain wore an expression of despair as he shouted instructions.

“What can I do to help, Captain?” Icon asked as he approached the man from behind.

“Huh?!” The fireman said, looking as if he was about to rip the head off of one of his subordinates who hadn’t been paying attention.

“Oh, it’s you…thank God.” Captain Williams said as he turned to face Icon. “We’ve got it mostly contained here, so hopefully we don’t have to worry about it spreading from this building. But there’s a family trapped on the sixth floor. We’ve been trying to get to them, but it’s too hot. The foundation isn’t stable and I can’t get my men in there.”

“I understand, I’ll do what I can. Icon assured the man.

“Listen Icon, they’ve been in there awhile, I don’t think you’ll just be running a recovery mission.” Captain Williams said honestly, the man’s experience in the field had taught him to hold his emotions in until after the job was done.

“I’ll do what I can.” Icon told the captain as he took off and made his way to a fifth floor window.

Icon made his way down the hallway of the engulfed apartment building. The sheer heat and flame made it difficult for him to see. He continued down the hallway, calling out for anyone who might still be alive. Unfortunately, he no one answered. Icon moved down the burning hallway as debris fell around him and he began to fear that the captain had been right.

[i]There’s nobody here. I’m too late.[/]

Then, just ahead he heard something. A voice called back from one of the apartments just down the hall.

“Stay where you are, I’m coming.” Icon instructed them as he hastened his pace toward the apartment.

When he reached the door, it was already open. Icon stepped in and immediately found the bodies of a young couple on the floor. Their bodies were burned badly, and he could only hope that they had died from smoke inhalation rather than from being burned alive.

“Hello?” Icon called out. After taking another couple of steps, he saw who had called him, and a wave of relief washed over the hero of Lost Haven. A young child, no more than five years old was huddled up in the corner of the living room. Icon approached the terrified child and forced a smile for the newly orphaned boy.

“It’s okay; I’m here to get you out of here.” Icon said, softening his voice as to not frighten the child any more.

The boy looked up to Icon as he approached and smiled at the hero, glad that someone had come to take him out of this.

“I knew someone would come. I’m glad it was you.” The boy said.

Icon reached down to take the boy’s hand, but to his surprise the boy resisted. He looked down at the boy and was about to reassure him, but before he could say anything, the boy’s features began to shift and change. The “boy” quickly began to grow to the size of a full sized man, and the features of his face changed as well. They were no longer the features of an innocent five year old boy, but the twisted features of something far more sinister. The man before him had long black hair with blood red highlights. His face was slightly elongated, and his pallor was an off grey in color. The clothes the man wore were all black, except for the red lining of the trench coat that he wore.

“Oh, I am so glad to meet you.” The strange man said as he hit Icon with a hard right hand which sent him through the wall of the burning apartment building, where he plummeted the five stories into the parked fire trucks below.

Kayla just sat there, eyes staring towards the ground. The paramedics arrived at the scene a few minutes ago. She had remained holding the make-shift bandage around Mark’s wound to keep pressure against the lodged shrapnel that remained there. While he was still in critical condition, the paramedics were surprised that he held out this long because of her quick thinking. But that wasn’t the thing that had been plaguing her mind. He remained motionless, unresponsive to the rest of the world as a medic placed a blanket over her shoulders and began speaking to her. Her eyes were fixed on her blood-stained hands and the small black box that was in her left hand. She knew that Mark wouldn’t be the sort of person who would go back for something that could be easily replaced like a phone. An engagement ring? That’s something you would definitely chase a bus to get. She had the suspicion that this was going to happen when he said he lost his phone. That would be a good way to start a holiday, she thought, still staring at the charred box.

Then without warning, the flood of memories of the night she had with Jason. The events back then and tonight were mingling and racing through her mind. Tears welled up in her mind. This is too much to bear, her mind screamed. She was on her way to a nervous breakdown, no medications that were nearby that would help stop the spiraling descent. Her hand almost dropped the box, her wanting to hold her head to help soothe and stop the images rushing through her head. Before the last of her sanity snapped with the rushing images, a voice rang clear through her mind:

”That Pasadena bitch has been located.”

The images stopped on one key scene: the image of the man that had said that prior to the explosion. The same guy who had gestured her seemingly determined future with his finger acting in a knife-like motion across his throat. His face burned into her memory, seemingly remaining in there. He either knew me, she began thinking, something within her core starting to build up. … Or he knew someone who knew me from 7 years ago… A few pieces of the puzzle from the events back then and today started to fall into place. … Now someone is back and wanting to finish the job that started those years ago… Numerous threads in her mind began to strain and snap, as if something was emerging. … And because of that, my friend is probably going to lose the love of her life… The threads started to snap at an exponential rate. Suddenly, the final thread in her mind snapped.

… I’m not going to stand by any more and let these bastards ruin anymore lives. Not on my watch.

“Ma’am, are you alright?”

She looked up at the female paramedic sitting next to her. During the numbing moments between them arriving and now, the medic had patched up the cut on her head, placing the bandage on it as it wasn’t long or appeared to be deep for stitches. ”I’ll be ok. I just need to go home.” While Mark and Mia had already left the area to head to the emergency room, she didn’t feel the need to head there as well. She needed to keep her mind off of things and she had a near-perfect idea on what to do. While the medic objected initially, they finally relented to Kayla’s demands. The nearby police officer offered to take her back. She told him the address of where she lived. ”But first, could you possibly head to Taylor’s Garage in the French District. I remember that I lost my keys to my apartment and I have spares there. That plus I need to get a couple of things from there.”

---

In the streets of Little Sicily, the small-time criminals began to stir. They have heard about the news about the famous superhero family, The Esper Family, getting wiped out and the fear the criminals in LA had were gone. Those that resided in Lost Haven followed suit and became bolder in their ‘business’. The bombing of a bus five days ago was the boldest some of the criminals have gotten. Though there had been rumours that the bombing was targeting one person by another group along the West Coast, but few people had survived the attack and there apparently weren’t any criminals in the area that would either claim or have knowledge on who did it. But someone had been there and they knew the reasons behind the crime. And he is in the wind.

In an alley close to a busy kitchen, two criminals remained outside. The first one, closest to the door of the kitchen, was Argentinian. His slicked-back, medium length brown hair, the split ends assigned unevenly across the jacket that he was wearing. His broken nose seemed to detract from the thick scar that ran down the left side of his face. His brown eyes gazed upon the short, Caucasian man, his right hand stroking the greying stubble on his face. The Caucasian man was completely bald, donning a biker jacket and torn jeans – a stark contrast to the sharp-dressed man. “So, you have my shipment of Dogo Argentino?” The Argentine spoke, his thick accent matching the stern look in his eyes. While there wasn’t any breed-specific legislation in Maine, any eavesdroppers wouldn’t be able to pick up that the dog shipment masked another transaction of weapons. The other man simply nodded, which gave the Argentine good news. His business appeared to be booming with more weapon shipments to arrive from California. “Get the men to move the shipments to the usual locations, then distribute one an inventory check is in place.” He turned towards the closed door, key in hand.

A large thud and metallic crack abruptly sounded in the alleyway. The Argentine only watched in shock as the lock to his restaurant had been broken by what seemed to be an arrow. The only thing that stood out about the arrow was the orange-coloured end of it: orange flights, orange arrow wraps and a flashing orange nock. His business partner already started running, afraid of what might happen next. However, he would never reach the end of the alley as he sunk to the floor screaming in agony, another arrow piercing through his right leg, the vicious broadhead bloodied from the clean hit. The Argentine, worried about the unknown presence in the alley, began running in the opposite direction, unaware that there was someone stealthily following him from the rooftops. Much like his business partner, he never reached the end of the alleyway as the figure jumped from the rooftop and came down on him, his head bouncing off the wall with conscious-ripping force.
----
The next thing the Argentine knew, he woke up bound to a chair in chains. From the looks of the streetlamps being invisible from his view and the rooftop being damp around the air-conditioning units, he was on a rooftop. He could see the man he was dealing with lying unconscious on the roof, his right leg bloodied and… bandaged? ”I see that you are awake.” He looked around to see the source of the stern, near-callous voice. His eyes fixed on the woman that stands in front of him. Her hair was a dark charcoal black except for her fringe, where it splits off into two bright orange patches that run down the masked, sports glasses face that obscured much of her facial features. Her top was a mixture of black and two shades of orange, her shoulders covered by what seemed to be an extended set of gloves, splitting off to expose her midriff. The top was joined by the unusual accompaniment of black tactical trousers, her right leg strapped by a small box where dozens of arrows protruding, the orange fletchings reaching up to her waist level. In her left hand was an expensive compound bow, one of the arrows already attached to the string. Another set of arrows appeared behind her right shoulder, suggesting another quiver of arrows. She remained poised where he was. ”Now that you are awake, we are going to play a game. The rule is very simple: I ask a question, you’re going to answer. Do you understand that?”

The Argentine spat on the ground. “Just who the hell you think you are, bi…”

Before he finished the sentence, she raised and drew her bow. Concentrate, she thought reaching through the let-off of the bow. Keep arm straight. Eye focused on the target you want to hit. Slowly expand your shoulder muscles. To a keen observer, her right elbow slowly started to go back, pulling on the string further. They would also notice her elbow slowly going down in height as well, her hand slowly shifting position on the mechanism on her hand. Keep expanding until… The mechanism clicked, the jaws holding onto the D-Loop snapped open, the full power of the 60lbs compound bow surging the arrow forward. … the shot is made, she finished thinking, taking less than a second for the arrow to leave the bow and hit the guy in his left shoulder, the broadhead stopping the arrow once on the other side of the body, the arrow grinding to a stop as it pierced and fractured the shoulder blade. The man let out a roar in pain as bone fragments hit a few nerves. ”Failure to follow said rule, I put an arrow through you. Of course, you’ll remain alive at the end of it, but how much of a pin cushion you would be would depend on your co-operation.” She attaches another arrow, drawn from the quiver on her leg, to the bow. ”First question: What do you know of a man with a half-skull tattoo on his face?”

The man looked at her, hate filling his eyes, before spitting in her direction. A second later, another arrow hit him, this time in the left leg. “Alright!” he roared, teeth gritting through the pain. “Some say that he works as one of the middle-ranking members of the Penose that is setting up shop in Lost Haven. They are already making a name for themselves in the drug world here with all that fine Mary Jane from the Netherlands.”

”See, now that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He’s easier to break into than I thought, she mentally noted. ”Next question: What connections do the Penose have that grants them explosives?”

“Look around you, lady. We’re in Lost Haven. A lot of the groups here deal with that. The Nigerians, the Haitians, the Italians, you name it. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Triads or the Yakuza are doing that too here.”

Ok, tracking this guy down through the explosives will be more challenging than I have anticipated. Will probably have to find another route to make tracking easier. ”Very good. Now final question, and this is important: Where can I find this man?”

The man had a look of surprise on his face. “I… I… I don’t know.”

Something didn’t sit right with the woman. She undid the sling that was in her bow hand and placed the bow on the wall that was next to her. She rushes up to him, kicking him square in the chest to knock him onto his back. The protruding arrow from his right shoulder shifted back into the wound where it came from. She knelt on top of him, her right hand grabbing the arrow and twisting the shaft. The Argentine screamed out in pain. ”Give me a location!”

“I swear I don’t know! On my dying mother’s life, I do not know! I never dealt with the Penose, especially to trade them the guns.”

She yanked the arrow out, the broadhead lining up with the wound that was already there. She then pulled the arrow out of the man’s leg. ”Well if you don’t know, you are of no more use to me. And as I have said, you’ll be alive at the end of it.” She knelt down beside him and drove a right hook to the side of his face, knocking him unconscious.

Ten minutes later, she reached to a black motorcycle. The sports bike whirred to life as the key was turned in the ignition. ”With that lead being a near dead-end, I need to find these groups and start looking for a lead to get to the Penose.” She placed the helmet on her head and kicked the bike off, speeding off into the night as the faint sounds of sirens could be heard.
-------------
The news report for the next day…

… In other news, police have apprehended two men in suspicion of arms smuggling. An anonymous tip is said to have been made to the police at 3am this morning, where the suspects were beaten. A recording had been located on them with the details of the smuggling, detaining the goods earlier this morning. Police are asking for any witnesses to reach out for the person responsible for the assault on the men. Next, we go to Joanne for the weather…

Rook
Location: Lost Haven, Chinatown

One set of prying eyes was not so easily dissuaded by the sleepy retreat of an old woman. The boy was barely into his teens, was little Rook. They picked em’ up early in the Syndicate, because sometimes it was the young-uns that were called for. They were quick, they were innocent and they had the energy to run for days. All good qualities in a marking man, someone who tailed people wanted by the gang. Rook was a marking boy really, but he was a damned good one, and when he got the call from one of his many cousins that Racheli had been spotted on the streets by a couple druggies he’d been up in a flash and out there. Didn’t matter that he was out after bedtime, not that he had any parents capable of enforcing it, his nervous excitement was more than enough to keep his peepers open.

It wasn’t hard for someone like him to blend into the background, even in the dead of night with no one innocent abound. He was a slumped figure in the gutter, an early morning sweeper, a nobody wandering the streets with a bottle in his hand. He’d actually been half-way up a scaffold when things kicked off in Triad territory, watching the girl get the shit kicked out of her by a gang. Well, that’s what it had looked like, she was doing an awful lot of flailing as far as he could tell. Right up until she casually punched a man’s leg out and pummelled the ground, flashing in the light of a street lamp with a steely glint. Rook swallowed. Meta-humans scared him, and he was following one. Ironic perhaps that he was one himself, unknowingly, his abilities were the weak and subtle kind. For some reason, people just tended not to notice him. He had no idea that Silence had recognised that trait in him and that was why he was out here earning a thousand dollars for a night’s work. If he had, he might have charged a little more.

He watched the duo wander off and took stock of the battered group fleeing the other direction. It looked like things had quieted down for a while. He heard the old’un shouting about little Thailand being off limits, seemed like she was some sort of ‘figure’ of sorts in the sub-district. It was unlikely someone like that wouldn’t be well known, he didn’t really have to take any further risk and follow them to their destination. He could just find out where the woman lived tomorrow. Of course, it was hard to say for sure if Rach and the oldie would be sticking together for any length of time. So, against his better judgement, he hopped off the scaffolding and dropped to the ground, creeping after the two of them, muttering under his breath, his phone out and his thumb pressing the buttons casually.

“He better pay sharpish yeah…”

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

Silence carefully placed the phone back down and stepped away from it, his legs catching on the end of his bed. He let his weight carry him down, his back supported by the mattress while his feet remained firmly planted on the carpet. It was against his instincts, but he couldn’t stand right next to the phone and wait for more news. Nor could he sleep, for that matter. So he chose some hybrid middle ground between the two and attempted to meditate while his ears remained open for the tell-tale buzz of a received message. Meditation was not something he found easy, his Father was a great believer in it, always saying it helped him master the debilitating aura. That was what they called it, his family, ‘The Aura.’ Strange that they had no definitive ideas surrounding its origin, only a rough scientific understanding of its effect and an unofficial book recounting the experiences of generations of Antols. They knew it came from the mind, or the brain if you were. They knew that it moved through the air like a wave, continuous waves if you like, pulses of debilitation that in the early days were found to profoundly weaken other humans. As technology advanced, it too fell before the aura, leading some intrepid Antol to discover the true nature of the ability. It destabilised electric currents, or the passage of electrons. Electrical synapses, electrical circuits, machinery and man, both were vulnerable to the aura.

But despite all that, few Antols had discovered any way to better it, master it if you will. For many, it became as much a curse as a blessing. Loved ones suffered and friends were few among those most gifted, as their presence became almost toxic. His Father had lamented at ever finding a bride, he had confessed, until Lekh’s mother had come into the picture. She too had ‘abilities’ and it were these that protected her from the aura. The consequence of the mingling of those two's genes was only felt many years after. Lekh still fretted over it now. Biology, meta-human DNA, it could all be incredibly cruel. While he was gifted with great power, not the greatest his family had known but not far off either, others had been born with nothing, or worse.

Like his abilities, he reined in his thoughts viciously. It was so very like him to allow his mind to wander down dark roads even as he was supposed to be clearing it of negativity in order to try to relax. Still, he supposed it was this trait of his that made his effective at what he did. Allowed him to carve out a small outfit of his own inside that of a larger whole, not unlike a parasite feasting off the life-blood of the Syndicate. He wondered how long it would be before the host took steps to remove that parasite. A challenge for another day, he supposed. For now, he needed pieces. Chess pieces, he likened it too. Material. The more he gathered, the more material he could afford to lose. At the moment, he was down too many pieces, likely to lose the game if he traded down to his last piece. But for now, he had funding from the Syndicate for jobs he completed with ease. He had the blood of a meta-human which showed great promise in achieving his goals. He had a cursed mark on his hand that hopefully at least did what the Ambassador said it did, although likely among other less favourable things. He had some of her magic salve, though it was of little use to him in the end. And he had the girl, or at least, he had her location. He could sell it cheaply, or he could sell it dearly, or he could choose not to sell it at all. Decisions, decisions.

California Los Angeles, Zeta Safehouse.

Four men and women sat looking gloomely at a giant tvscreen. It was currently showing the Channel Seven News. Nobody said a word as they watched.

"This is Channel Seven News, reporting to you live from the site of the shocking Familicide that is believe to have taken part only hours ago. " A woman in a yellow jacket stood staring into the a large camera. Her blonde hair whipped around by the mild winds of a otherwise sweltering LA night. Her eyes green but with a dull luster. That of someone in pain. Her lower lip trembled as she spoke. "The Site where Mr and Miss Esper and there three children were all found dead..."

Yellow and black police tape closed off the Esper Familys estate behind her. There were flowers all along the gate into the grounds. The Odd memorabilia and photos were strewn among the flowers. People were openly crying and many a upset child, spouse or elderly lent the shoulder of their fellow man or woman. The sense of a true tragedy germinated the air around the reporter. Little messages were scribbled on the walls. For the people of LA, this had left a terrible void for many.

"Police are on the sight as you can see. We have yet to find out what or who did this. The Espers were reffered to the The First ever superhero family. The Telepaths were well known and loved across the state and had hundreds of thousand fans at their peek. Tomas and Clarice, that is Mr and Miss Esper found their way into the hearts of millions when they took on such nefarius creatures as Alligator King and Dr Deviant. The two helped save our nation, indeed the world, on numerous occasions." She seemed on the verge on crying. Her eyes reddened as she kept speaking into the camera. "Mr Esper and his wife dedicated their lives post retirment to help kids like their own to understand their gifts. For someone to kill them, it is the act of a monster plain and simple."

Her eyes seemed to well up with tears that she had to wipe off. "The Meta and Super population of Los Angeles are remaining quiet as to who may have done this. But there is one thing for certein folks, there are many angry faces I've talked to today." The woman removed her glasses and wiping the tears that were flowing down her cheeks in a steady stream now. Staring into the screen, her voice was crystal clear despite her despair. "We will find you whoever you are. And we will end you. YOu hear me! WE WILL END YOU" As she jelled, a hand landed on her shoulder as older woman pulled her into ha hug. She wore a capel ,and silver bracers, and a crow. More and more capes arrived.

Last you could see a man landing among the people mourning. Causing quite a stir. The man was known as Lightlord. A retired cape who had the power to project hard light. He stood like a solemn giant, ever vigil over the flowers dedicated his dead friends. "I am sorry old friend. We failed you."

The screen flickered off and the room became silent.

"Well shit Chief. Seems we gotta find it before the Supes do" A black man with a impressive beard spoke. He was the one to have turned of the tv. He seemed a little nervous. Tension played across his muscles, causing tiny flexes. He wore a set of hightech looking armor. A Z was emblazoned on his left shoulder. Underneath it red Bowen. The man cradled a shotgun of make and design no one outside thier little unit had likely seen.

"I say we let them 'ave him I do." A scrappy looking ginger spoke up. His eyes blue and wild. His teeth all but missing, He wore the same getup as Bowen. His name red as Bush. His

"Can't do that Bush. You know that." A equally ginger girl spoke. She was almost mausey next to Bowen. Her tag read as Ace.

"What do you think Chief?"

"I think our target got to greedy. We know it only just struck. We know it underestimated them a bit, seeing how much collateral damage they caused before going down. That means the traces will be much fresher, and much easier to track." The woman called Chief said calmly. She was a powerfully built asian woman, Japanese to be exact. Her body was clad in the same hightech gear as her crew and the rifle in her hands were not from this world. The sleekness seemed almost organic, and the twisting design of the barell was nothing you would ever see on the human rifle. She seemed the least angry or upset. She seemed down right mirthful.

"But how do we take it down Chief? It ate the fucking Espers. Retired or not, they are... were the real deal."

"These guns we got are especially meant to cut trough telekinetic barriers. These collars are able to completely scramble psychic signals, so they will keep him from fucking with our minds. Remember, when we engage, no eyecontact, lenses on. We do not wait, we do not care for colleteral." She said as the four locked and loaded.

"Let's hunt this son of a bitch down. Zeta Retrieval Unit, move out."

---

Shooting down the drive on a dark, starry night was our black innocuous Jeep Cherokee, carrying a driver and three passengers. Hakeem and Carmen sat in the front of the SUV while Angelo and Ben sat in the back, Carmen driving the durable machine through drives and roads and all of the sorts in the darkest of Upstate New York. After they had left the medical wing of the Agency’s New York division, Carmen and Hakeem picked up their contract, and picked up the necessary gear and munitions for their new job (and business, for analysis later). They even got their confiscated stuff back too, including their phones and weapons. In the back of the jeep was all kinds of silver ammunition, and a few new weapons, all in cases and draped over with a dark green tarp, all of it placed and concealed before Ben and Angelo got onboard the truck. Right now their destination was clear, they were all heading towards Ben’s estate.

Ben huffed as he and his escorts left the medical hospital, the instruction he received was to remain calm. They took the jeep as the boy stared out of the window. His eyes were lost in the thoughtfulness of his own mind and considered if his stepmother would note his absence. His father never did so he doubted the man could honestly care. Ben's hand folded underneath his chin and bounced with the car’s rhythm. It was a most therapeutic in a sense because the ride tended to be more interesting than the destination.

He had plenty of time to think about his future, his well thoughtful plans shattered, and the challenges that were head. He was a fool if he told himself it was going to be easy. Angelo made it clear if he fucked up, he would be gunned like a rabid in some back woodshed and that was putting it nicely. It seemed to Ben the laws concerning supernaturals associated to those of a wild nature were a bit twisted compared to Fey and others.

Hakeem, on the other hand, was sitting up at the front, looking at his smartphone, catching up on the latest news on Facebook. “Hey, Phoenix, didya hear about what’s going on in Colombia?”

Carmen turned her head briefly to Hakeem before keeping her eyes back on the road. “Yeah. Hear about that shit all of the time. Same thing. President Obama condemns his actions and yet they do nothing but give him more and more weapons. Indirectly through Israel that is.” Carmen sighed. “While I’m all for a transparent government, some of the shit they do is way too obvious. They clearly have some shit going on down there, but for now it’s none of our business.”

“Yeah, but… we can do what we did in Syria… fight alongside good guys… take down forces of true evil.” Hakeem sighed. “Just a suggestion.”

Carmen thought for a moment. “Trust me, as much as I’d love to go down there and fight with the Loyalists and the International Freedom Brigades, we kind of have our hands full with new business opportunities and shit like that. Once we get that all sorted out, and after our contract with Cracker Jack’s over, we can go down to Colombia, topple a regime, and take all of their shit. Sound cool?”

Hakeem nodded. “Aye aye, Captain.”

The newly turned werewolf merely sat there thinking for the rest of the trip.

Remaining in the backseat with Ben was Angelo, his relaxed demeanor shining through as he sat with crossed arms, leaning back against the seat. He didn’t much care or find any interest concerning the world’s less supernatural issues, like the ordeals taking place in Colombia. In truth, mutants could very well be involved but even so, Angelo’s responsibilities laid with Ben more so than anyone else. A glorified babysitter? That might be the case, but without this position, people could die. “Turn left here, loves.” Angelo instructed, giving the two directions as they drove.

Turning his attention to Ben, Angelo understood fully why the kid was being grumpy. His life had been turned upside down and it was nothing one could blame him for. Leaving it for now, Angelo wasn’t going to pressure the boy. He needed some space and time to let this all settle.

Soon enough, Carmen turned left onto a private drive, leading to Ben’s estate. A short drive through the woods that didn’t feel creepy at all, before arriving at the large mansion surrounded by fields, that was surrounded by forests. There was a large driveway/parking area in front of the estate, and there were no vehicles there as of now. Driving up to the area, Carmen turned the SUV into the driveway, and parked the jeep in front of the estate.

Shifting the Cherokee into park and taking the keys out from the ignition, Carmen looked to the two via rearview mirror. “We’re here, amigos!” She said with a soft smile. “Welcome home, Cracker Jack.” She looked to the mansion. “Nice place, by the way.” She said.

Ben rolled his eyes then replied. “Will you stop calling me that. It’s Benjamin or Reeves if you can’t pronounce it!”

Carmen rolled her eyes, forgetting that Ben was still in his generic white emo state as she took off her seat belt.

The boy’s hand undid the door then pushed it out, exiting the jeep. His shoes crunched on the gravel while he slammed it behind him and adjusted the bag holding his ruined suit in his other hand. He paused on the way toward the house, his ears catching something directed at him.

Hakeem turned to Ben and Angelo. “Any house rules before we head in?” Hakeem asked. “Just asking out of respect, of course.”

“Take your shoes off.” Angelo spoke with a wink as he stepped out of the car, sliding his fingers through his hair to move the bangs from place.

“Yeah, I don’t want Emma having to clean up more than she already does. Also, the space in the second floor is where we’ll be staying. There’s a second bedroom on the right with a bathroom for Angelo and a loft where you two can crash. I barely have anything in there as I tend to donate or get rid of anything I don’t use. “ Ben explained.

“That’s really sweet of you.” Angelo returned, turning to look at Ben for a moment with a sly wink. “Most kids your age tend to be glued to their stuff. You’re full of surprises.” He continued, starting towards the house before promptly halting and waited for the rest to catch up. He might have sounded condescending in the way he spoke, but in truth, Angelo was in fact surprised to know that Ben had a softer side to him. His files and his personality had not pointed in such a direction, so to see a fraction of kindness within that heart was a breath of fresh air. Considering what he had gone through, it all made sense though. Rich or not, he was about as loved as a tool brought out of the closet to shine his father’s shoes from time to time. It was no life for a kid, especially not one like Ben. Right now, he’d need all the understanding and closeness he could get, no matter how much he denied it. After all, things could never be easy, could they?

“Most people my age are idiots. Personally, I find it pointless to keep it if I'm not going to use it.” Ben shrugged off Angelo’s wink the followed, his figure reaching the door shortly before Hakeem and the mouthy woman.

Soon enough, Hakeem and Carmen climbed out from the jeep as well, Carmen taking the keys and locking the doors once she got out. Carmen walked around to meet Hakeem and follow the others, before Hakeem signalled to Angelo.

“Hey, you guys go on ahead. We’ll catch up.” Hakeem said, gesturing for the others to keep going.

“Don’t go sightseeing for too long.” Angelo returned, placing his hand on the doorknob.

Hakeem turned to Carmen and saw her confused look. “We gotta arm up, remember? Besides, I have a present for you.”

“Ah… right.” Carmen nodded with a soft smirk on her face, walking up to the back of the Cherokee and opening up the back. Once she did, she pulled the tarp out from the vehicle, revealing a whole cache of gun cases and ammo boxes. “Damn, you loaded this thing up! No wonder why it felt so heavy!” She chuckled.

“Had to… uh… borrow a few things from the Agency’s armory. Nothing that.. Uh… what’s his face… Angelo can’t replicate.” Hakeem said. “But that’s not the best part… look what I got for you…” He said with an anticipated smile, pulling out a gun case from the back of the truck, bringing it up to the tailgate and unlocking the case. “Go ahead, open it up, hevale.” He winked.

“Hevale? That’s Kurdish, not Arabic.” Carmen chuckled before opening the gun case, revealing a Mosin Nagant Carbine, complete with ammo pouches and a cleaning kit. It also came with a strap as well. “Wow… is this the same Nagant that I used in Syria?”

“I promised that I’ll give that back to you.” Hakeem said with a knowing smile.

Carmen looked to Hakeem and sighed. “Dude, you promised to return me the 1911, not the Nagant.”

Hakeem thought about that before stepping back. “Ahh, fuck! That’s right… dammit! So much for that!”

Carmen chuckled. “It’s all cool, hermano. I still appreciate the gift nonetheless. Damn good rifle.” She smiled, picking up the rifle, and checking it.

“The rifle’s chambered in both silver and normal rounds, first one normal and the next silver.” Hakeem explained before taking out the ammo pouches. “Right silver, left normal. They come in stripper clips.” He handed the ammo pouches to Carmen before pointing to the large ammo boxes at the back of the truck. “They are filled with the Com-Block ammunition that the gun fires, the green one normal and the grey one silver. The rest of the ammunition are .45 ACP and 5.56 NATO for our handguns, Kriss Vectors and the automatic rifles I picked up.” Hakeem explained.

Before Hakeem could speak anymore, Carmen gave Hakeem a hug. “Thanks Hermano, I really mean that.” She said with a soft smile, blushing a little. Hakeem blushed just a little himself, but he accepted it. After the hug, she let go of him. “Never thought I’d see this thing again, really.” She chuckled.

“Yeah, me neither.” Hakeem chuckled a little, just slightly sheepish. “Okay, let’s hurry up before they arm the house.” He said, putting on his tactical vest, taking his slung Kriss Vector and slinging it on his back. “Remember, that thing is loud, so don’t go off shooting that thing too much!”

---

Ben and Angelo were upstairs when Hakeem and Carmen joined them, the younger boy pointed to the wood finished door leading to the loft. “There’s your room. There’s a few things in there but you can move them to the gym or media room if you need to. We’ll move the futon in there afterwards.”

Carmen and Hakeem nodded to Ben, having arrived, fully outfitted. At that point, they had duffle bags of stuff they could use for the stay, including electronics, ammo and some other important gear. Once they arrived at the loft, they settled in, putting their stuff underneath some chairs and by some couches. “Nice place.” Hakeem noted before heading with Carmen to explore and make note of useful places.

Ben patted his seat, indicating the futon he was plopped down on, then pulled out his suit to examine. His heart jumped into his throat to see the damage done. It ripped down to skin easily and if he didn't know better, he might've assumed he was sliced with one of Freddy Krueger's bladed hands.

Moving towards the window, Angelo allowed his eyes to trail the backyard, his hands casually resting against his hips. An occupational hazard would have been a decent description but currently, it was reasonable enough to always keep his eyes out, even in the safety of Ben’s mansion. There was after all a werewolf out there with a taste for teenager. “All things considered…” Angelo began, his focus remaining on the exterior. “How are you holding up?” The Agent spoke, eventually turning to look at Ben who was examining the shredded suit he had been wearing before the attack.

“Really? Obviously not great. It's about as bad as having cancer, which I rather have at this point, and being helpless to solve it. Ben jerked down his hands, shoving the suit down onto the floor. His hands curled into his hair as he felt like ripping it out. This emotional shit wasn't something he was used to because he tried to make himself numb to everything and now… He couldn't.

“Hey…” Angelo spoke up again, approaching Ben before he leaned against the side of the futon. “The attitude aside, you’re a good kid. We’re here for you, alright? Don’t keep stuff inside if something happens. You’ve gone through some shit, and not to sound too corny, but fuckups will probably happen and that’s alright. Just tell me when it does.” Angelo finished, looking to the door before he started towards the hall. You probably want some alone time. Hit me up if you need anything.”“ He finished.

“With Ms. Inquisitor in the loft? You're joking, right?” Benjamin stated as he propped up, bending down a moment to seize his stuff. “The odds of that happening are zilch. Though what type of pie do you want? I'm ordering pizza so Emma doesn't have to cook.”

“I’m the one in charge here, Ben, not them. They won’t go doing anything rash, they’re professional enough to follow orders. Give them the benefit of a doubt.” Angelo returned, his voice casual rather than stern. “Oh? Heh, alright. I’ll have Hawaiian, normal crust.” The Agent finished, opening the door before turning to look at Ben again. “Anything else before I go and crash?”

"Pepperoni for me, and a supreme for Magnum!" Carmen called out from downstairs, having heard the conversation with her enhanced senses. "And Angelo's right, just holler if you need us, kay, Cracker Jack? Hehe!" She chuckled before walking further down the halls.

Ben jumped when Carmen shouted from practically behind him. His head jerked to glare at the Hispanic woman and watched the pair heading down stairs, their figures vanished from sight. His attention returned to Angelo when he heard the footsteps fade.

“Nah, I figure while I wait for the order, I can figure out how to explain my recent absence since the party. Daniel won't notice I'm gone, he never does or really cares. Lorrie, however, is another story and will likely keep a tight leash on my activities in the future.” Ben stated with a sour tone, his expression displaying his hatred of the situation. “Through… don't get use to this you Hawiian freeloader.”

“Promise not to.” Angelo winked, stepping out of the room. “But I don’t know, I’ve always liked mansions. They’re cozy.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Seriously though, anytime you need anything, I’m just down the hall.” Back to the old, easy going person Angelo had displayed the first time they met, he offered Ben a playful wave before starting down the hall and opened the door into his own room. It was simple, and it worked well. One could clearly tell that it was a room based within a mansion, given its more elegant style, but it was obvious that people didn’t use this room often. A guest room? Yes, such was probably the case.

Checking his gun and equipment as if a reflexive action, Angelo finally lowered his guard and dropped down on the bed with a deep yawn. “Here we go again. Hope this will slide by without complications.” He spoke to himself, rubbing his eyes.

--

"Otto." Rune said as the two magicians headed down a alley in downtown Hells Kitchen. His eyes flickered between the mouth of the alley and his friend who carried the comatose Necromancer. Their little invisibility spell would not work forever. Saying the words, Rune made the door to the Red Devil appear. The two stared at it apprehensively.

"Yes my old friend." Otto said, not looking away from the door.

"How screwed are we." Rune spoke, fidgeting with his collar.

"You seen that movie with the zombies" Otto inquired. Not taking his eyes of the door. Neither liked Puck much. The creature known as Puck was a born trickster. A deal maker. Neither of them thought they'd get out of this without paying a price.

"Which one, they make like a hundred a month now." Rune said, finally looking to his friend.

"You know. the one with the book of dead." Otto said as he took the first step towards the door.,

"Evil dead? Yeah." Rune said as he followed.
"Well I think you are gonna have to cut your hand off and replace it with a chainsaw for us to have a fighting chance." Otto said deadpannd. Rune walked past him and lifted his foot high.

"Right. Fuck that." Rune said and kicked the door open.

The two entered the Red Devil and the entire place went quiet. A sylph hid behind a chair, a nymph sunk back in her chair. Two men of middle eastern persuasion immediately cleared their cards from their table and reached into their robes. Rune stared at everyone gathered. He had a rep alright. Rune. Johan Winterchild. Lover of Elven Kings, champion of the Northern realm. A mean, angry vikin of a man with stick. It all depended on your perspective.

"Awfully busy as of late, aren't you. Puck"

Puck turned from his station afront the tavern's patrons. His gaze fluttered quickly from the large crystal mirror to the The Red Devil's newest additions.

"Ah, welcome friends!" Puck greeted them with a mixture of enthusiasm and sarcasm that made it difficult to divine his true intentions. "Yes, quite busy. The benefit of being in the business of magical contracts is that someone always wants something from you, and I see that even you, one of my more esteemed guests, is no different. So tell me, what brings you to The Red Devil?"

Of course Puck was familiar with Rune and his work. This world and the next were filled with news and gossip of the human who carried out the orders of the Elven King of the North. Puck had few dealings with the elves, preferring the company of Fey, witches, and humans, but he knew enough about the King and his servant to understand that the circumstances that would draw him here must be dire.

"Who the fuck tore up New York?" Rune began but Otto, still carrying Hildebrand nudged him. "Oh. And we need to stash a commatose Necromancer."

"Whatever do you mean?" Puck tried to play it off. He knew exactly what they were talking about, but, as with any other exchange, he loved to stretch things out and see what else he could gain.

"You know exactly what I mean you you goatfaced, slimey sucker. You better tell me, or I swear to gods, devils and the occasional snake that I will make sure not a single witch, nymph or fae will ever be able to look you in the face." People were staring, some with their mouth agape now. More then one was thinking there was serius problem brewing.

Puck didn't allow himself to be intimidated, though he knew that if he didn't comply, there would be trouble.

"Alright, alright, you've convinced me." he waved the two of them over to the bar, took a seat, and ordered a round of drinks. "I may have met with a certain embodiment of all of man's greed some months back, and he may have asked for my aid in some particularly ancient dark magic, which is, I suspect, what you're referencing?" he took a sip.

Rune made sure they gave him the good stuff. That ancient fae meed that knocked lesser alcoholics cold. He drank as he listened and only barely kept from doing a spit take. His eyes flared open like to ice blue angry beacons.

"Please tell me you didn't just tell me Broker of all things has it..." Otto said before Rune could toss Puck across the bar in rage. His wolven hand pushed a straining Rune down into the chair. "Puck." He leaned in close. Not wanting the others to overhear. "He created a soulstone the equivalent of nothing we ever seen before."

"So it would seem . . ." Puck replied, taking a moment to think. "But, despite my vague involvement with the whole thing, this really has nothing to do with me. I provided Broker with information, nothing more. I then gave a certain employee of mine a choice. What happened next was an unfortunate externality beyond my control and, quite frankly, I don't care either way. I'm a neutral third party, as you should well know. I don't bend to one side or the other, I just sit in the middle and watch."

"Yeah. You are a regular swizz bank. Complete with a stash of Nazi gold." Rune muttered as he simmered down. "So. Mr Neutral." Rune leaned in. "You could do me a favor now. I need to find people not completely mental with a eye for magic. Unless you wanna see Greed Eternal turn the world into his plaything?"

Otto chimed in. "We are gonna need all the allies we can get. Greed Eternal, Broker, whatever you wanna call him. He is a Judean Incarnation. One of THE demons. We don't have the firepower alone."

Puck smiled, "Well . . . you could always find the witch responsible for creating the Soul Stone, though I don't quite know where she's gone off to at the moment. Alternatively, there are others floating about the continent. Ancient ones like Broker with powers that rival his own, ones that deal in contracts with witches . . . ones that rule over witches."

"Rune" Otto said, carefully leaning away from Puck.

"Yeah... I think this is getting worse and worse. I don't need to make deals with ancient ones. I can't, I am beholden to my King."Rune spat the last word like it was venom. "Although if you can help us find whoever helped Broker, that'd be worth my time here make no mistake. But... If you are talking about Hecate..." He said the name very, very carefully. "I think I will pass even if I could make deals." He said, shivering slightly. Suddenly his face lit up. "Hey Puck. Do you still have that magic Winchester I pawned to you?"

Puck shuddered at the mention of that damnable rifle. He was hesitant to take it in the first place, fearing that it might cause difficulties for him and his patrons were he to keep it in the tavern. Instead, he had disposed of it almost as soon as it came to him, kept it somewhere safe where he'd hoped it would never be retrieved.

[color=CD5C5C]"Unfortunately, I am no longer in possession of said rifle, but I do know where it is hidden."[/color}

"Oh.. I see." Johan leaned back, running a hand troug his hair. "And I suppose you want something in return for telling me where it is?"

"Indeed. In exchange for this information, I ask only that you grant immunity to the one who is truly responsible for the Soul Stone's creation. Ensure that no harm comes to her through either of your hands or through your aid, and the rifle's location is yours.

"...You know. When I said you were Switzerland. I didn't consider the fact that you would actually go to swing for the Nazis. But fine. I won't cut down your pretty associate. But if she lifts a finger to keep me from the Soul Stone or try to hurt me and the deal is invalidated." Rune shot back.

"Fair enough!" Puck snapped his fingers and a thick piece of parchment appeared on the bar top, accompanied by an empty inkwell and a sharp quill. The parchment unrolled, reavealing the terms of their deal. Puck's name was already etched at the bottom of the page. "Prick your finger with the quill, sign your name, and the deal is struck. You shall have the rifle's location."

Rune sighed and grabbed the quill. He wrote down his name, staring Puck in the eyes. "Where is it?"

"Shortly after coming into contact with the rifle, I passed it on to a witch in whom I held great trust. He tasked his familiar with its desposal. As I understand it, the familiar carried the weapon across the sea to a place in the Old Country that sits between this world and the next, a rip in the Veil. The denizens of this place are strange indeed and still refer to their home as Albion. The rifle itself is buried somewhere in the remnants of old Albion in a charmed silver box. Your magic should be enough to open it, but be careful of what creatures reside between the Veil, and be sure that you have a way of tearing a hole back into this world . . ."

"Albion.. Gods above and below. Where do I find someone to help me with that..."

Ji hummed as she sat in her room. She had just finished getting ready for work and was just sitting at her desk writing down a list and had a stick of papers not far from her. She was adorned in a red and white shirt that was buttoned up and tucked into her black jeans. On the pocket above her right breast had the logo for “Pizza Kingdom” on it in a very old English style of writing.

”Ok we need laundry soap so I can do laundry tonight. What else did I not list...” She trailed off as she thought about things.She seemed to remember something and quickly wrote it down in neat hand writing. She read over the list and nodded her head as she began to read them out loud.

”Ok I need Yeong to pick up my second uniform from the cleaners, I got the ticket on top of the coupons. For groceries we need cereal, eggs, milk, vinegar, bread, rice, ginger, garlic,onions regular and green,” she said as she took a breath writing down some more things, “We also need chili, parsley and canned fruits and frozen vegetables we get from the convenience store down the street. I have coupons and my card right here so she could use it and add the savings to my card for later uses.” She said pulling out said card and putting it on the stack

“For the butchers, we need ten pounds of beef, 3 pounds of steak, 4 pounds of chicken and a dozen burger patties. I have my membership card here so she can use it. Less money we are spending. For bills, I need her to pay our rent for the apartment. I also need her to make sure the exterminator can get up here and do the apartment for this year.” She said out loud to allow pulling out another membership card and putting it on the stack. She placed her pen down in the oven holder that held her other pens.

Once she had her list done, she took the coupons she had cut out over the week before her paycheck and put them in an envelope before clipping it to the paper with the list. She soon left her room and went to the bathroom to finish getting ready. She had to leave very soon. In the bathroom she put on some light makeup which consisted of some eyeliner, light pink eye shadow and some lip gloss. She always wondered why her boss wanted her to wear makeup, in Ji’s mind she always thought girls looked prettier without it, but she never tried to defy her boss’s orders as it was the only job she could get since coming out here to New York last year. Her eyes went downcast.

It had been a full year since her sister and hers pack was destroyed and almost a full year since they had escaped to New York. She sighed as she left the bedroom and looked beside her. Sitting there on a small end table was a picture of an asian woman who had dark hair and large brown eyes, she looked like an older version of her sister. She was in the arms of a Korean man who had lighter brown hair and narrower black looking eyes. In front of them was a small child who looked like a boy. The picture was of that of their parents. Before they had escaped, she had used her other form to sneak into their old home and took a single picture. It seemed that their parents had moved on as much as they could from their deaths since that fateful weekend within the national park, and they now had a little brother that they would never meet.

Ji sighed and kissed the picture before going across the small apartment. She glanced briefly at the other pictures that littered their walls. There were pictures of their old pack both in human and wolf form, some Steven, her and her sister in wolf form. She reached her sister’s room and knocked on her sister’s door to wake her up.

”Yeong time to wake up. I have that list of errands I need you to get done before I come home tonight” She yelled before going away and headed into the kitchen where she got a water bottle and placed the list on the table for her sister to see when she did exit her room. She noticed a small pile of dishes and Ji huffed. She could feel her mild OCD ticking at her to get it cleaned, but she needed to get going.

”And do the dish and keep the apartment cleaned! I have to get going. I should be home around 4,” She said before leaving the apartment, locking the door with a key. They lived in a decent building, recently remodeled compared to their old one, and had moved in there a month ago after her paintings got a good amount of cash. She went into the park garage and started up her car. She was trying to save up to get a new car since this one had so many problems, but luckily it hadn’t kicked the bucket. She got in and drove to work.

An hour into her job, she was standing at the register putting money into the drawer when she saw a lady walk in. She groaned realizing who she was and she had a feeling she was going to get annoyed and, oh boy, was she right.

The second the woman came up to the counter she began to run her mouth. She was complaining nonstop about the slow service she had received the night before, THE NIGHT BEFORE for christ sakes! She couldn’t have gone over here last night and made a damn complain, but nooooo she had to wait until the next day to come here and complain! This had been going on for about 30 or so minutes- she lost count of how many times this lady had repeated her lines- while she just kept nodding her head in a relaxed fashion to indicate she was listening. Completely calm on the outside but in reality she wanted to rip this woman’s head off. When the woman had stopped talking finally for a moment, she was quick to jump in at the opportunity before her temper blew off the top.

”Ma’am I am sorry for the slow service. Allow me to go and get my boss then we can get this straighten out as quickly as we can.” She said in a very thick accent that was a mix of chinese and korean. She turned away and walked into the back office before the woman had a chance to speak. She knocked on her boss’s door and opened the door, leaning in.

”Ma’am, there is a lady here with a complaint and I need you to handle her.” She said in the most calmest voice she could muster. Her boss must have seen the rising frustration in her eyes, because she nodded and stood up.

“Ok allow me to handle her and you can take your break an hour early.” She said. Ji-Yeong nodded eagerly and went out the back doors of the pizza place into the alley way. She keep a far distance away so she wouldn’t smell the dumpster and began to pound her fist against the stone walls that decorated the outside of the shop, muttering to herself.

”God, that woman wouldn’t shut her fucking trap. I get it, you had slow fucking service because you expect us to be there in an hour when you live clearly all the fucking way on the other side of town which is an extra thirty minutes from where we are.” She said, letting those rare cuss words out of her throat. She gathered the stray hair and place it in a lower braid and then sat down on the ground taking deep breaths to calm herself.

She lost track of how long she was out there until she saw her boss appear in front of her and looking a bit concerned. She saw the silent question and answered promptly.

”I am calmer, yes.” She said and stood dusting herself off.

“Well she left, so you can return to your work. I need someone to take orders and it would be a little less stressful for you.” She said going back inside. Ji sighed and remained a few moments before finally going back inside.

Starting point: Apartment and ending point: walking to dry cleaners

Yeong had been up for about half an hour now and yet she had made any attempt to move out of bed. The girl wasn't trying to make it seem like she was ignoring her older sister. Then again the girl as still upset about having to up and leave without actually giving their family a proper burial due to a certain fey playing kill the wolves just over a year ago. It still hurt to remember or even willing think about. The two sisters never really talked about that night, at least not until it was necessary to Ji’s research, which made the subject that much harder to speak of. A feeling of pain and suffering which had now turned to a cloud of hatred ever since the event seemed to cloud around the oldest sister, as if revenge was the only point in escaping, rather than living to honor the pack’s memory.

She blinked a couple of times in order to clear away the horrible thought in her head. Sure Ji wasn't the only one that wanted the woman dead but she didn't need to blame herself for not being able to help keep them alive. Who would have known that they had the same element? That none of the pick members really had the only one element that would have help immensely? The young woman's phone on her side table caught her attention. She picked it up, noting that there was a new text message from Eric, then unlocked her phone using her mother's name as the password. This caused the girl to bit her lip out of habit. It's been years since they had seen their mother and father and when her sister had snuck inside the house just for a small picture didn't made things easier. Yeong had moved on mostly. Yes, from time to time the three would slowly come to her mind while bring what if questions but the pack were their main family. The only family that would understand what they were going through and would help them out.

Another chime had brought the woman back to reality. She was only like this when she hadn't done a morning workout or run. After that then the girl would be back to her normal self. She yawned and looked at both texts. The first one that was looked at was from her boss.” Hey there Yeong! Since things have been picking up for a while now and I've hired more people for seasonal help you're able to have a day off. I'm sure there will be plenty of small jobs when you come back. Please enjoy this as a personal gift from me to you. Thank you for the very hard work you put into your job and hopefully with business starting to pick back up you'll be able to get a small increase in payment. Congrats from your boss.” it said. The girl groaned while going to chuck the device against the wall.

The only thing that stop the girl from doing that was her sister. The last time Yeong had done this action Ji had scolded her for what seem like hours. First explaining that they couldn't waste money on getting a new phone every time the younger sibling had thrown it out of anger. The second would have been how she would have to find a way to cool down other than throwing things across the room and the third would have been have in the world would the younger twin repay for the incident. In the end it would most likely start an argument, more screaming, and maybe one or both transforming. As if they needed more attention of more bad fey or worst hunters. The young woman lowered her arm, while taking deep breaths to cool down, and looked at the final message. ” Hey kiddo. Looks like we finally have that day off. What are you doing today because I was hoping we could catch tonight's boxing match :)

This caused a small smile to form on her lips. The guy was okay to hang around until he began to complain about safety for fighters. This had caused trouble for their boss making the man add to their workloads to keep an agreement from breaking out. Granted that they had always made up in the end.” Actually I do have some things to do. Now if you want to help me then you're more than welcomed to come over and help. I would love you to see you come over with breakfast and coffee.” the girl texted back. After a few minutes there was another response.” I'm on my way kid.”

The girl kept the smile and shook her head. She gathered some clothes before walking out of the room. Ji had long since left for work but the twin could still seem to feel her presence, as if the other sister was inside the room. She walked towards the bathroom only for something to catch her eye. The young woman slowly walked towards the small table and sighed. She may have looked more like their mother but her sister looked more like their father and the mysterious little brother.” You really need to let go of our human lives. The longer you hold on to what we’ve lost the more it will hurt.” she mumbled as she walked away from the photograph. Yeong quickly showered and dressed just before the doorbell sounded. She walked into the front room and opened it.

“ You're lucky I had a whole package of hamburger that needs to be eaten. Rare as usual though I'm not sure how you can eat it like that. This paper bag is for you and the other one is mine. Any questions?” The man said while walking inside. The young woman thought for a minute before answering.” Actually yeah. Plates are in the right cabinet and paper towels are on the counter towards the back. Please remember where everything goes or else my sister will go nuts.” the girl said closing the door. He seemed to chuckle at that as he grabbed some paper towels from his pocket.” One step ahead of you. I remembered you mentioning that your sister had a mild case of OCD so I came prepared. Now let's eat and then get cleaning.”

” We also have some groceries as well. At times I feel like she's treating me like a child. First she writes out a list for me to do, then leaves it on the counter with an envelope connected to the paper, and finally Ji seems to always look around to see if I've actually done it. I love her to death but at times I wonder on why I've stayed with her.” the girl said while the guy started to eat.” Really? I'm complaining here and you're just eating. Thanks for your nonexistent advise.” Eric chuckled as he pulled out one of her hamburgers and tossed it at the girl.” So you're thinking that Ji is still treating you like a child. Have you discussed this with her? Because if not then you really should instead of asking a person who only knows one twin.” She shook her head and bit into the meat. After lunch the two cleaned the house and then looked over the list.

“Alright. I'll pitch in some extra money for something else to drink. We could possibly get some soda to drink while watching the match.” Yeong seemed to groan making Eric turn his attention towards her. She gave a small smile while settling into her chair in a more comfortable position.” I can see why you would think that you're being treated like a child. Now let's go get this all done before your sister comes home. Or else you may get in trouble.” The girl nodded and went to grab her house key. They talked a little bit about fighters and such while walking towards the front door then down the stairs. They walked out of the building’s front door, walking towards the cleaners when the subject of family popped up suddenly catching her off guard completely.” We don't really have family anymore. After we came to New York we’ve lost touch. I don't know where they are or what I would say if we would ever meet again.” it wasn't a lie. At least not a total lie.

_{banner credit to Hellis}
---

Time: The Next Day - Afternoon
Location: Central Park, New York City

The rain from the morning had refreshed the greenest place in the city. Puddles formed along the paved pathways and walkways. While the reservoir swelled unnoticably. The sun shone bringing the temperature to something rather mild and a light breeze. Making this day as lovely as it could be.

On a bench situated along it’s edges on the far west side Odette Favre sat reading on her tablet, perusing the New York Times. She was dressed in a pale pink 3/4 sleeve dress patterned with black flowers, her toned legs crossed her with her 3 inch nude heel bouncing unconsciously. Her makeup had been officially switched to summer time products. Less bronzer, spf speciality foundations and moisturizers, shimmery eyeshadow to catch the light with a nude lip. Black designer butterfly sunglasses were perched on her nose. She was half listening to Bach talk about Soul Stones. Given enough time he could talk for hours just about anything. Earth Fey were so often the serious and stoic faction but it was the first lesson Odette learned on her own. Show enough interest or genuine curiosity Earth Fey were chatterboxes with amazing memories, only waiting for the opportunity to share.

Unfortunately for Odette, lingering chills from the Leylines being disturbed so violently the night before left her fidgety. She couldn’t put her finger on it but Central Park still resonated strongly with disturbance.

Some articles had her reading through them, one involving a large beautiful photo showcasing a lavish fundraiser event from just a few nights ago. In the foreground was the city’s District Attorney Daniel Reeves with his son and girlfriend. His son was eerily a spitting image of his father. They wore perfect smiles. The caption noted what Mr. Reeves was wearing and contributions to the fundraiser… she blinked with disinterest swiping left to a new article.

“When we return to Paris we will be busier than ever. Between the summer rehearsals, work with the Syndicate-” Bach began listing off on his fingers, he squinted noticing something breaking through the water in a little ways off shore. “We’ll need all the help we can get…”

“Merci, you reminded me I need to text my newest associate.” Odette said stowing her tablet into her purse and switching to her smartphone. Her fingers rapidly typed a new message to Lekh, Silence. Odette needed information on Racheli, while the files she originally had from the kidnapping file were at home they weren’t enough to really cover Racheli’s history. The Ambassador wanted to know everything. Silence could help her with that.

Bach pulled a face at that. He watched the surface of the water. As curious as Lekh’s powers were, Bach did not care for the career criminal.

Are you free to have coffee with me soon?
I have some great news

She finished the text with a few emojis then remembered Lekh’s cell phone was from the stoneage. She quickly deleted the emojis then replaced them with:

~*~<3~*~

Smiling to herself she sent the text message.



Bach rolled his eyes at the approaching water nymph her head breaking up through the water. She spoke in a warbling heavily accented dialect, her fish-eye globes staring black at the pair. Rare to see a water nymph in the middle of the day, but the school of nymph’s inhabiting the reservoir were heavily isolated. Probably starved for interesting visitors.

“What is she saying, Bach? Probably some limerick.” Odette said flatly. Water associated Fey were often difficult to communicate with, they liked their word games and rhymes.



Bach sighed pushed off the bench stepping up to the shore and crouching down to meet her. He spoke rather well in the lyrical dialect, whispering vowels while clicking on hard consonants. Bach knew numerous languages most of the main dialects of the elementals.




The water nymph gurgled quietly. Nervously stealing looks at Odette. Bach dug through his pocket, acorns and sunflower seeds spilling out. He found a penny, rubbing his thumb over it. He flicked it and the water nymph caught it with a splash happily humming returning beneath the water.

“She said something strange was in the reservoir last night and after the soul stone creation it moved and is still here in the park.” Bach said standing before Odette shoving his hands into his pockets. “Might be worth checking out.”

Odette swiped again idly, “I suppose. I’ve been feeling rather off ever since we entered the park. I assumed it was lingering energy disturbance from last night.”

Bach smiled pleasantly, offering his arm to her, “Then let us investigate, My Lady.”

They walked leisurely along the path, Odette let her senses guide her toward the increasing pressure. The concentration of magic was more noticeable now that she was focusing on it. In a subdued area along the shore beneath the shade of trees was a motionless humanoid, silvery and just... lying there in a pile of dirt. Odette checked over her shoulder while people around her moved on without so much as a curious look. How was such a strange thing escaping notice?

Odette casted an illusion charm on herself, to humans she would appear as an animal. She approached cautiously giving the golem a wide berth pushing her sunglasses onto her head. Bach was on the other side of the golem staring curiously, never seen anything like it either. Strange wouldn’t begin to describe this golem it was easily 8 feet in length, segmented to be vaguely humanoid in shape but otherwise definitely not. Odette had seen some made of stone, brick and even packed mud. Never had she seen something made of mercury. A deep crimson eye tracked Odette’s movement.

She tried English first, “Good afternoon... Silvery-One. I hope I am not disturbing your rest.”

Eva sat cross legged, running a clean rag over Excalibur coated in oil enough to lightly coat the blade. Excalibur is a legendary sword, rust nor scratches could ever mar it’s blade at least by any normal or superhuman means. But there was a calm that Eva carried by oiling Excalibur, as her bulky studio headphones pounded beats into her ears and Dickens rested by her side she forgot all her problems, engrossed in solely cleaning. She tried to forget what she had learned at the Red Devil, mostly because she was soo unsure of what it would mean for herself, it was easy to believe that Arthur was just a crazed Ghost with a Magical Sword, but it well and truly being Excalibur meant that she inherited his Legend. Between her pondering her future, Netflix and maintaining the sheen Excalibur radiated hours had passed Dinner cooked downstairs, the smell filling the house; lasagna. The fatty, cheesy home cooked meal, and while her Aunt was no Italian Chef she made a bloody good dish. But the quiet silence was broken, for something violently shook Eva from her tranquility, she could feel it, the pain, the agony as every lost soul in New York was ripped and torn from their hauntings. She heard their pain, their cries everything. As she rushed to her window a funnel of spirits circling above before they vanished underground.

And Eva wasn’t the only one who took notice, even Sampson felt something wrong. And while he didn’t feel the event as strongly he knew someone just tugged at strings that shouldn’t be pulled. For a moment he thought of getting involved, but that passed. His work was just as important and the Heroes, Champions who protected the Supernatural Realm would deal with this.

Meanwhile. Eva wasn’t sure what just happened, thankfully Merlin the Boar’s Sin of Greed did, and upon feeling the impact the Soul Stone’s creation left in it’s wake appeared before Eva. ”That, my dear was trouble. The creation of a Soul Stone, a Magical Nuke if you will, a device so powerful it can redefine the Magical Realm with those with the knowledge to do so.”

”I felt them, all those souls. What will happen to them?” There was great concern within her voice, doing nothing would haunt her.

Merlin raised a brow, at the unexpected question. ”So you heard that, intriguing. You hold more promise than i thought. No matter. Those Spirits are gone, fused into a single power source. What’s important now, is finding and stopping whomever created it. There’s no telling what damage they could do.”

Eva grabbed her hoodie, and threw it over her White T-Shirt with the Red Cross and turned. "I’ll see if I can dig up a few leads, I know a place or two.” She said as she ran downstairs, towards her soon to be peeved Aunt.

”Right then, problem. Someone may have created a Magical Nuclear weapon.” Eva said her breath waning from her rush to the Kitchen. Briley looked at her, through her stern gaze and mild anger that would cause Eva to break her curfew she had concern for her Niece. Briley’s hand ran across her forehead sweeping through her hair. “And this is all up to you to stop. Eva dear. You may have the Legendary Excalibur however this is too much for you to bear alone, I’m not going to even try to comprehend what a Magic Nuke would be like but it’s too much.”

”I have a few leads on where I can get help, so I’m not alone. I have to go though, things are only going to get worse the longer I stay explaining things.” Briley rolled her neck while attempting to understand everything. “The Lasagna leftovers will be in the fridge. Just come back alive and in one piece.”

As Eva smiled "I will. Yeah.” She turned and took off as her Aunt stood in the doorway watching. Soon Eva found a place where she could open a portal to the Red Devil stepping through once again.

Rune was leaning against the bartop, his brain fried on Fae mead. He barely registered Evas entrence, engrossed in own misery. He was leaning on his elbow, talking to a offended looking druid. He had been trying to either score or get the man to take him to Avalon. IT was hard to tell with Rune. "All I am saying, is a I need a little help." He slurred. "Albion is practically home for you Druids... You gotta help me."

There was a pause, another drunk Eva thought as she moved to the barkeep. "So. Who do I talk to about a Soul Stone, and why nearly every spirit in New York was pulled through a blender?"

Rune looked up. IT was a slow movement, but the sluggishness seemed to receede at unatural speed. HIs eyes were clear and intense. "You know what it is huh?" Rune said, letting the druid of the hook as he focused on Eva. "Mr Puck over there gave the means to create one, to the worst of the worst."

Eva turned to the man, her arm leaving the counter to return to her side. "Kinda hard not to notice, thousands of souls screaming in pain, but yeah. I kinda figured whoever had it was bad news, what do you know about it?" As Eva spoke Dickens stood by her leg staring at the floor which seemed different than anything it had seen before. Of course the entire place was magic and it would not be able to understand that still it became curious.

"That a creature known as The Broker has it. A major player demon. The kind the bible was written to warn about" Rune mused as he swept the last of the mead, the runes in his coat flared as he purged himself of the last of the alcohols effects. He was truly a alcoholic by choice. "I am going after it. But Broker will be a bitch to take down. I was trying to get a druid to take me to Albion, to collect a old artifact of mine. You know, Albion, where Authurian legends were born?"

There was some confusion in Eva's face, but she responded. "Yeah, that Albion, funny story that. Right, but you have a plan. I may be able to help. I kinda inherited a certain legacy. Anyways, I'm game for whatever you got in mind."

"...Just like that? So. Uh. What can you do" He asked, eyeing her from top to toe. Taking stock as it were of his new ally.

"Well." Eva said somewhat unprepared as she picked up Dickens from the floor. "This here is Dickens, he's some alien creature of sorts. Built like a tank, and can grow as big as he wants, I think. I'm. Well Pendragon. That's kinda where the legacy part comes in to play. So. If you hadn't guessed it I wield that certain legendary blade." Eva said stammering occasionally until she got to the end.

"...Ahahahaha" Rune threw his back in mad laugh. "You? YOu are the bloody Pendragon?!" He grabbed her shoulders, shaking. "Maybe there is some good in my fortune. You, and I, are going to Albion. Miss Excalibur."

“Aida.” Kaya stared the thirty something pakistani woman in the eyes. Short, stocky and matronly, she was also deceptively strong and an ace pilot. Aida for her part, stared back with the intensity of a sun. Despite her young age, her hair was graying in places. Her hands were shaking, clutched into fists. Kaya could see a lot of very conflicting emotions. She just hopes the positive ones would win out.

“Kaya” Aida spoke, her face suddenly breaking into a smile that could rival the Sahara desert for warmth. The two women embraced, tears staining both faces.

“I am so sorry Aida.” Kaya sighed, biting back more tears. “I should have done this a lot sooner.”

“Shh Kaya. Omar always spoke the world of you. But we both knew you were never very good with people. Or emotions. “She said staring Kaya in the eyes again. Hands seizing the other womans shoulder like a gentle vice.

“You… You aren’t mad?”

“I am livid. I haven't seen you since Omars funeral. Not a blessed word from you. I only got to hear about your near death from your old nanny.” She chided her, kaya almost flinched back, despite being Aidas senior by one year. Guilt crept up on her like ivy on a old stonewall. Gripping to her. But then Aida slapped her so hard she saw double. Kaya stared back at her wide eyed. She didn’t cradle her face but it stung like a straight right to the jaw. Those were some powerful slaps. Her ear was ringing.

“You feel better now larhki?” Aida asked, hands on her hips. Eyes like steel. “Or do you want me slap that guilt out of you some more?”

“No.. No I am good Aida.” She said rubbing the cheek. “I’m good. It’s like I was hit with a frying pan.. ”

“Good. Let’s get you to Colombia.” Aida said, face softening and matronly, apologetic smile that once snared Omar appearing on her face. She turned around and began walking towards the hangar door.

“About that. Do you still have it?”

“Have it? Oh Larhki, I traded it in for a newer model.” Aida smirked as they stared at the hangar. Aida was a test pilot for some really fancy defence contractors, and worked unofficially for a branch of the American Military up until Omars death.

“Wuh? How?” Kaya asked, a bit bewildered at the information that Aida apparently had enough sway to still get new pieces of highly advanced military specs.

“Omar and I knew many defence contractors.” Aida said as she pushed open the hangar doors. What greeted Kaya was a sleek, very cutting edge looking jet of some sort. She gave out a low whistle at the site. She had expected the old bird Aida had flown for a decade. “Some of the retired ones and I came together to start a network of sharing tech.”

“The Breakwing Z30. ” Kaya mumbled. “How are they letting you keep this again?”

“Because I am on the payroll for life.” Aida grinned. “And becouse this prototype is the baby of my little initiative”

“Right. And they won’t be upset about you taking it into colombian airspace.” Kaya raised a questioning eyebrow as a ramp unfolded let them step up inside it. Aida gave a mirthful chuckle.

“Oh no. Not at all. It is a prototype and they have all but asked me to give it a official test run. Ever since the Meta Bomb thing, they are pushing this as the next rapid response measure” She winked at Kaya. Kaya rolled her eyes softly. Always the wild spirit, Aida had not changed a bit. The two stared at the machine.

“Alright then. Let’s go pull Hernandez ass out of the fire.”

---

Ben had a list of orders on his mind, namely pizza toppings, when he finally moved into his bedroom. He was home alone which wasn’t usual. Thankfully when they arrived, his parents had left for some show in the Lincoln center where a famous Odette Favre, a ballerina dancer believed to bring the art into its fullest form, was performing for a limited time. Personally, he never got into the classical styles of performances. These included anything from opera to theater.

They were Daniel’s likes in the end and another fact that proved he wasn’t anything like him. Inhaling, Ben kicked aside a few crumbled boxes into a corner. Most were Chinese take out boxes, their contents long gone, while he tossed his torn suit to hide them from sight. Everything still felt so surreal to him. His shoulder being rolled and tested, his hand examined it for something Adrian might’ve missed to prove everything was actually real.

Benjamin found it odd that it bothered him so much, but truthfully he likely still didn’t believe. Thankfully he had a day to prepare himself for the full moon so there was little point to fret over it. His eyes brushed by his alarm clock spying enough time for a shower before the pizza guy arrived with the pies after ordering it. Right now he would kill for one of Emma’s Sopaipillas, a pillow fried bread with honey drizzle, her Mexican dishes to die for in his opinion.

His hand reached for his phone, then typed in a local pie joint. Pressing the phone up to his ear, Ben waited for someone to pick up the other end as he leaned against the wall.

---

Ji sighed as she was working on counting the money in the drawer when the phone began to ring. She placed the money back in and walked over to the phone. Clearing her throat, she picked it up and said with a jolly voice.

”Hello this is Pizza Kingdom, how many I help you?” her chinese/korean accented voice would be very obvious to the person on the other end. She sat down with a pad of paper and a pen ready to write down the person’s order.

There a brief pause then Ben spoke. “Yeah. I would like to order about five pizzas, please.”

”Ok then, Do you want a 12”, 16” or an 18”” She asked writing it down on her notepad. looking at the cookers who were watching her and knowing she was taking an order.

“Eighteen inch for all of them because it’s a full house. First one I need to have Hawaiian style with pineapple and ham on a normal crust. The second one is plain pepperoni, and third is a Supreme with normal crusts for both. The fourth and fifth are both meat lovers and thin crusts.”

She nodded as she wrote this down at a rapid pace. Once she was done, she walked up and gave the order to the chefs who began to work immediately on the order. They saw it was a very large, pun not intended, one and it would take them a while to cook.

”Each pizza will take about couple minutes each, so give us around an hour and a half. Will this be a delivery or a pick up?” She asked

“Delivery and last name’s Reeves,” Ben stated then gave the address. “Someone will be standing on the front yard expecting the pie, what’s the total?”

”Got it sir. That would be $65.99 when the order reaches you. See you in an hour and a half.” She said hanging up on the phone. She placed the phone down at the receiver and pulled out her cellphone. She usually checked up on her sister to make sure she was getting everything they needed for the next two weeks, without going over budget.

’How is the errands going?You aren’t going over budget? And make sure to use the coupons I left you.’ She put her phone on vibrate and placed it back in the pocket of her black jeans. She heard her boss calling her to the back and went to see what she wanted.

---

Ji sighed as she placed the pizzas carefully into her warmed up car. She often used her own car when they were short on delivery cars like today. One of the others had crashed it last week and it was completely totaled, so that left her using her own to make deliveries. She didn’t mind since her shitty car had great gas milage and she had just filled it this morning. She closed the passenger door and went into her seat, putting on her seat belt. From there she was on her way to make the delivery.

She arrived around twenty minutes later, taking it off and stepped out of the car. She went around and grabbed her card swiper incase they payed with credit card for the pizzas. Ji walked up to him. Instantly she smelt that he was a werewolf. It took all the self control she could muster not to have her eyes widen and for her to gasp, showing her shock.

Ben was standing there. His hair was still dampened from his shower as he placed his hands on his hips, seeming to get impatient. When she stopped, his feet moved to meet her halfway and scented the savory smells of dripping cheese, hot meats, and more within the cardboard boxes. It made him practically drool thinking about sinking his teeth into the food, ignoring the stranger scent coming off Ji. A low growl erupted from his midriff, which he ignored, as he reached for his back pocket then pulled his wallet out. He shifted through the inside to pull out the correct amount, plus tip, before passing it toward the driver.

She was sort of pretty, his mind barely noting the details, he noted briefly. Already his focus returned to his instincts gnawing away for food and the need to feed when he took the boxes.

She took the money and handed over the pizzas, moving her head to the side a lttle bit from time to time. Setting them carefully into his hand, she put the money in her pocket. Her instincts were screaming at her and clawing at her to look for other werewolves. She fought them hard and eventually won, pushing them in the back of her mind.

“You look nervous as hell. Something I should be worried about?” Ben’s voice asked, his head perked to the side and seemed to be listening closely to her next words.

”Have a good day sir” She said as she turned and began to walk back down towards her car in a quick fashion trying desperately not to look back at Ben. She gave in finally and shot one last look at him before getting into her car.

Ben stood there, his expression confused. He didn’t even understand what happened or understand, finding her behavior strange and odd. Shrugging it off, he sighed then turned about to head inside. His arms juggled the pizza, the hot bottoms heating his lower arms, as he bellowed at his unwanted house guests.

“GUYS! PIE’S HERE!”

Have you ever felt that utterly cosmic boredom of sitting on a bus? No? Oh jeez, it’s so hard to explain. You can bring whatever book, music player, laptop, or gaming device you like. No matter what you bring, however, you’ll still wind up with a complete lack of things to do. Humans aren’t meant to sit down for long periods of time, and it drives you insane when you can’t distract yourself from the static position.

Arthur, however, doesn’t play games or use mobile phones for much beyond phone calls. He’s a man in his late fifties so he’s not much moved on with the times, of course he’s not much for games.

Why is this important?

He forgot to bring a book in his carry on, and let me tell you something about having absolutely nothing to do. It’s killer on your psyche. We join Arthur about halfway through his journey, we’ll see just how much frustration this boredom can bring.

The ticker-thump of the tires on the bumpy road was the only noise accompanying the detective in his time of need, it was midday and honestly kind of hot on the bus. Though he was sitting beneath a vent, he was just sweating uncontrollably. Without any body hair, this was further discomforting for reasons that should be quite obvious. If he still had any semblance of a religious belief, he would have begun praying as he sat there, trying to get as much of that relieving cool air on his face as possible. [color=f7941d]“Sweet release, save me from this uncomfortable heat.”[color] He mumbled grumpily, staring at the three slits that provided the slightest relief. It was like the face of some cartoon robot that just had the most mocking and infuriating face, it would have made him angrier and angrier if it weren’t providing comfort.

Hours upon hours of this crushing and depressing boredom and two stopovers where a child came aboard and ruined the silence by screaming and hollering before them and their parentage were kicked from the bus for disrupting the other customers. To which a collective sigh of relief was breathed by the patronage of the Greyhound bus, Arthur’s own sigh was particularly loud.

The next few days were much the same as the above, and he damn near broke down in tears when he finally arrived at his destination of Lost Haven. Unloading his own bags and booking it in borderline full sprint to the nearest hotel. Bags tucked under his arms, breathing heavy and sweat pouring down his perfect face he reached the counter and threw a handful of bills to the woman behind it. ”I’ll pay for three weeks up front, what rooms are open?”

You would be surprised at how little people actually care about others, without looking up from her fingernails she tossed him a key with the room number of 212. “Third Floor.” She said noncommittally, blowing some of that fingernail dust off the back of her hand. Nodding and taking his key, Might traveled up the stairs for about five or six minutes. What’s a few minutes after a week or so of absolutely deadass boredom?

The moment the door was locked behind him, Arthur flopped face first onto the mattress and passed the hell out.

It was another several hours before he came to and tossed himself naked into the shower, the refreshing heat of the water running down his body was relaxing, washing the stale sweat from the ride over off him. Felt almost as though he were washing away the experience, as the bath went on and his muscles relaxed from the stress tension.

Today he would gather himself, relax, and prepare. Tomorrow, he would begin work.

Tomorrow, Will was going to fly out of Pacific Point, which would end his short stay here while I was settling into this west coast city. Therefore, today we had made reservations for dinner as a sort of ‘good bye’ date. Since the forecast for the evening was supposed to be a clear, nice evening, we decided to walk there because of the weather, even though we would be dressed in some nice clothes. We even left a little bit earlier than we needed to so that we could window shop if there were any good shops on the way. And I of course had to pick up something cute (or tacky, mattering on who was judging) for my new apartment.

That night seemed to just fly by, just as it does whenever you’re having fun. The hostess seated us at our table. The waiter took our orders and delivered them to us. After we had finished our meals, we even dawdled just long enough before the staff could give us a subtle (or not so subtle) hint that we need to get going. However, when we exited out of the front doors, we were surprised by the downpour of rain that met us outside. Even if we had not checked the weather forecast, rain like this was untypical for Southern California during the summer. This definitely threw a wrench in our plans.

Will attempted to hail a cab for us, while at the same time dodging splashes that any oncoming traffic would produce when they would drive by. During that time, I stood close to the building, allowing the overhanging roof to shield me from the torrents of rain. Once he had finally gotten a cab to stop after a couple minutes of trying, Will opened the rear door to limit how wet I would get walking from where I was standing to the cab. However, once inside the cab, I slid to the far side so that Will did not have to walk all the way around to enter the cab. He had already been out in the rain long enough.

“Quite bizarre weather we’re having, aren’t we?” The cabbie greeted us, “I normally would offer you some bottled water, but I assume you two have had your fill of it.”

“Meteorologists sometimes get the forecast wrong, but never this wrong.” Will commented.

“It feels more like Ohio than Southern California.”

“So, you’re tourists?” The cabbie continued to pry.

“No.” I replied, not wanting to divulge any more information, like how I just moved here. “We just need to go down a few blocks and make a right.”

The cabbie just nodded after hearing what I said. As the cab drove down the street, I kept counting the number of blocks that we had passed. However, as the ride continued, I began to smell bubble gum, or at least a scent that mimicked that odor. I didn’t know whether it was a coincidence or I was just worn out by our date, but I started to feel drowsy at that same moment. I almost lost count of how many blocks that we had already passed. Only one block left. However, when we got to our turn, I was concerned when the cabbie continued straight instead.

“Hey, you missed our turn.” I expressed my concern to the cabbie. However, he ignored my plea, remaining silent.

I was horrified when I saw that the locking mechanic on the door was missing, preventing any backseat passenger from unlocking the door. I bet the child’s lock had also been activated. Panic had already set in and it only became worse when I realized that Will had somehow fallen asleep, or rather he was knocked out. I knew that bubblegum scent was out of place.

Not again. I was not going to allow myself get kidnapped for a third time. During the first time, that Doctor Diplodoc weirdo gave me my powers. Then, when that crazy bitch, who wanted to sell me into human trafficking, abducted me, I was left with a body that you would more likely see in a comic book instead of the real world. Since I was determined not to see these be repeated, I reached down and deactivated my power nullifier.

My costume crawled up my body as it replaced the dress that I had been wearing that evening. My lower body morphed back into what seemed like a giant widow spider. Once this transformation was complete, my entire body almost occupied the entire back seat. I even heard the cabbie utter a mumbled curse under his breath when he saw my appearance in his rearview mirror.

“Pull this car over right now or we’re going to have some problems.” I demanded. However, the cabbie instead began to fumble around in his glove compartment. When I felt a buzz in my head, I knew that whatever he was reaching for was bad news. I pressed all of my strength against the backseat door that was on Will’s side. Under the stress of my strength, the door popped off its hinges. With my extra spider legs taking hold of my unconscious boyfriend and my purse, I pulled us out of the backseat and onto the top of the cab.

Once we were on the roof, I placed Will behind my back. I wrapped some webs around our waists and around his wrists after I had draped his arms over my shoulders so that he would be safely secured to me. While I was trying to figure out what I should do not, I heard a gunshot go off from within the cab. The bullet barely missed one of my eight spider legs.

I could have easily just jumped off and ran back to my apartment with my boyfriend on my back, but that would leave this weirdo still on the streets. However, I could not just abruptly stop the cab because there were other cars behind it and I would have caused a pile up. I had to be creative to minimize any collateral damage.

After I had attached several weblines to the roof of the cab, I leapt off and onto the sidewalk on the right. While I was still in the air, I yanked on the webs, pulling the cab sideways and causing it to roll over off the street. Since I knew that this would draw a crowd, I hurried over to the cab and pulled the man out. Then, I wrapped him up in a thick coating of webbing, just like a spider would do to its prey, and left him for the police. Once he was immobilized, I began my trip back to my apartment in the rain. However, as I traversed over the rooftops back to my apartment, one thing haunted me. The man who tried to kidnap us said that he would remember my face.

Hunter had been on the surface of the planet of Earth for just a month and had visited half the major cities in the U.S. Impressive, for a man on foot. Less impressive for an alien in advanced power armour. He was drifting, sending out feelers wherever he went. His encounters had been minimal and mostly inconclusive for those involved were of little interest to him or his mission. After all, his role was not one of an ambassador. He was a living scalpel, cutting out the dead tissue from a larger whole to ensure its survival. But the scalpel could also be used in exploratory surgery, and that was what he was initially tasked with. Whatever was causing the unchecked evolution in the primitives on Earth was likely to lead to extinction if it continued. The so called ‘meta-humans’ as they were referred to manifested abilities unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was not that the ability to breathe fire or turn one’s skin to metal was unheard of across the galaxy, but for so many individuals of the same species to suddenly be capable of such varied feats? That was a problem.

More problematic however was that these changes, accelerated growth, powers, chaos and devastation, had attracted others. Others from beyond the stars. It was these forces acting upon Earth that Hunter was duty bound to combat above all other threats. One of the most formidable currently active called for his presence in the city of Los Angeles. The creature was a powerful psionic of unknown origin that had not avoided notice in the Republic. In fact, it had an entry in the most wanted books. It was named Parasite, and it was ranked third. The third most wanted monstrosity in the Republic had found its way to Terra and had begun to sow destruction, it was all it knew. Perhaps some would see it as foolish to punish one for their nature, but for Hunter, that was his true purpose. The Hunter does not blame the Bear for killing his kind out of fear, or hunger, but he slays it none-the-less.

The Hunter had followed the Parasite across the country, tracing its kills, but it was a difficult process. That process had brought him to L.A, the city with a bridge. Also fine weather and unpredictable ground, it could be said. But mostly a bridge, and a damn fine one at that. Shame Hunter had no time for architecture, and would have no doubt found it paled in comparison to some more functional but far less creative structure he’d seen on some other planet even if he did. Practicality could be useful in keeping one alive when their job is incredibly dangerous, but it could be as much a curse in making that life almost empty, without meaning would be too strong, but certainly lacking in colour. Hunter had adopted a profession as his name though, so evidently he was not overly concerned with creativity, nor in bettering his soul. He in fact seemed determined to take the opposite route, burying whatever spark remained until he was the most efficient weapon he could be. The GRP’s specialist psychiatrists would be proud of the work they’d done. The thing they had created. That thing stood cloaked in darkness, a transparent haze marked only by a small patch of unpainted fence behind him that betrayed his faint outline. Though it did not betray him to anyone with the skill to read the signs that he offered. Few on Earth would have had that capacity, and he saw none of them here on this deserted street.

So much for America’s heroes

The house was deserted, hard indeed to tell it had been a crime scene half a week earlier but Hunter was not one to follow traditional signs. Almost as soon as the message had come through that sweep teams had picked up large intense bursts of psionic energy he’d requisitioned two new pieces of equipment. The first was an interface for his armour, attached to the back of his helmet. It allowed him to track and perceive psionic energy, or residue as it was sometimes referred as. This substance marked the use of powerful psionics within a specific timeframe equivalent to a half-life. Some referred to it as psionic residue. Hunter preferred to think of it as more of a memory of power torn like a scar in the real world, but he would think that for he hated psionic powers with a passion seldom seen in such as him. It was this device that lit the Esper’s home up light a beacon in the night sky, though to him it seemed a humble abode like those around it. As for his second piece of equipment, that was a far more combat orientated device known as Sarastor, roughly translating to ‘Singer’ in English. It resembled little more than a small mega-phone in the style of a handgun, and it was a useful tool in dealing with psionics. For now, it was all he had access to. But the fabricator was working hard somewhere up there in the sky to materialise what he really wanted, if it came to it.

The Hunter moved across the street, passing over the road with no incident. There was no one around to see him seemingly materialise out of thin air, and even if they had they might have mistook his blurred form for some trick of the night or their weary eyes. He relied on that, and he had confidence that they could rely only on their eyes to watch him even then, devices would be of no use. His footfalls were surprisingly quiet as he stepped onto the sidewalk on the other side of the road and briefly across the grassy lawn, a few strides more than enough to see him to the exterior of the building. There was little cause for a more indirect route into the building, seeing as how the windows had been quite literally blown away and were guarded by little more than police tape. He ducked underneath it like a crime scene investigator on TV and stepped inside.

The house was a mess. Flicking through vision filters offered up new insight into the damage that had been done to the interior of the building, night vision revealed the deep gouges in the walls and the blown out glass. His psi-vision gave him an impression of exactly what had caused the damage, residue was everywhere. The place was coated with it, almost as if it had been saturated in mental energy. That made sense. So far, all the victims had been lesser psionics, and he knew full well what the killer was. Evidently the humans who had been living here were psionics as well, but of far greater potential than any before them. That meant the creature had grown ambitious, or greedy. It also meant its power was increasing exponentially. If the GRP could see it now, could see exactly what it was capable of… it’d easily make the top spot on the most wanted list. This… Parasite, had to die. If the same proclaimed heroes he had become slowly aware of were incapable of such, and he believed to his very core they were very much incapable savages despite their evolution, then he would deal with Parasite himself.

“Keia salaisa.” He spoke within his helmet to his supervisor up above, pardoning the religious metaphor. “Concentrate sweep teams on this region, the Parasite grows in power, he will be visible.”

“Confirmed, Hunter. Satellite, drone and database monitors will concentrate their efforts using your current location as a focal point.” Keia almost seemed shaken, she was seeing what Hunter was seeing as she watched through his perspective directly, something she did only rarely. “Be careful. We need more intelligence before you confront this entity, you are not currently outfitted for the hunt.”

“Confirmed. That will be rectified soon. I will remain here and continue my investigation.”

For a moment, cloud covered the moon above and the darkness grew all encompassing. The Hunter stood in the ruins of the Esper household, a stranger from beyond the stars, yet seemingly the only one who cared about the deaths of the people whose home had become their grave. His face set with a terrible focus beneath his helm.

“Shea ossa sinrinsa.”

The hunt begins.

The Present Day

Isaac felt the familiar clatter on the concrete as much as heard it. Stepping delicately through the artificially lit tunnel in order to keep his footing, the sound dulled as he hit the laid out carpet and was replaced with the murmur of 27,000 people and the bright summer's sun as he punched out from the tunnel and onto Talen Energy Stadium. He ran onto the grass and raised his head to the sun, looking around the stands.

He sighed. "What. In the hell. Are you doing here?" He asked himself for perhaps the hundredth time.


3 Months Ago

"Good morning, Isaac." The man spoke from behind the desk, standing and offering his hand. Isaac turned and looked back at him blank-faced whilst Brandon closed the door behind them.

"Okay then..." he said, sitting back down and rubbing his hands together, as if to attempt to awkwardly wipe away the fact that Isaac hadn't shaken his hand. The Dean had about 20 years on Isaac, who in turn had about 10 years on Brandon--

"So, I trust Brendan here told you what this was all about?"

Ok. Brendan. Isaac had ten years on "Brendan". The guy's name was Brendan. Moving on...

"Umm, actually sir, I hadn't done that yet. I thought we could do that now."

"Oh..." Said the Dean, giving Brendan a disappointed look and now understanding Isaac's standoffish nature in his office.

"I apologize if we've worried you at all, with the unknown nature of this meeting. As it is, this is about--"

"Rugby!" Beamed Brendan, excitedly interrupting, stepping forward and standing next to the Dean on the other side of the desk.

"'Kay. What about it?" Isaac replied, eyebrow cocked.

Checking to make sure Brendan wouldn't interrupt again, the Dean continued. "As you may be aware, earlier this month there was an incident led by a horiffic monster called Nightmare. He, and three other monsters, both literal and figurative, attacked an internal practice game amongst the football team. This tragedy... well, for want of a better term, essentially decimated the football program. The majority of players, present members of the cheerleading squad and coaching staff were slaughtered, less importantly thousands of dollars worth of damage was done. All in all the human and financial costs to the football program... were devastating. Beyond which, we suspect that had these monsters remained at large student enrollment and drop-out rates would likely have shut down the college."

"Okay. Kids and parents terrified of school. LHU no longer a desirable location. The school goes under, I get it. But what does that have to do with rugby?"

"Well. A football program is a very expensive thing to operate. Pads, equipment, new goalposts, transportation... the booster club obviously does what they can to lend a hand, but there are limitations there. After the financial hit to the football budget, and by extension the school's current financial status... it would likely be about 2 seasons away. Football also generates cheap publicity, gives the school representation in the public eye."

"Yeah.  American football does.  It’s the most popular sport in this country.  Again, what does that have to do with rugby?"

"Well, Brendan has some insight here on this.  See, he’s been studying ECON and seems to thinks he’s found some interesting trends and an interesting angle for investment out of current events.  Brendan?"

"Well, whilst recent troubling metahuman events seem to have a negative impact on locals with…"

"A large chunk of school property getting destroyed and students slaughtered en mass?" Isaac interrupted.  Taking offence with how things had been minimalized down to ‘recent troubling metahuman events’and ‘a negative impact’.

"Well… yes.  But even though metahuman sightings appear to have a negative connotation here, there is another factor to consider."

Isaac looked baffled.

“Tourism.  With metahuman events seem to centralize around – although not exclusive to – our city for some reason, an interesting trend appears.  We see a strong rise in the tourism industry in connection to times of greater metahuman activity, year-to-year, decade-to-decade.  It’s actually quite remarkable.”

Isaac still looked on, non-committed to where this was going.

“These tourists seem to have interesting traits as well…  British, Japanese, people from other English speaking nations like Australia and New Zealand.”  He pointed at Isaac.  “Terraria…”

Isaac’s face grew dour.  He could see where this was going and didn’t buy it for a second.

“What they all have in common, are tendencies to take out Student Visas when visiting—“

“…and they’re rugby playing nations.” Finished Isaac.

“Exactly!” Grinned Brendan.

“But aren’t Chinese and Saudi Arabians more likely to take out student Visas in the US than anyone from the nation’s you just mentioned?”

“N—No!” Brendan stammered.  He wasn’t expecting Isaac to actually question anything he’d brought up to convince the Dean, let alone contradict it.  “Well… yes.  In the U.S. as a whole.  But the figures.”

“You’re telling me wild roaming packs of New Zealanders are descending on American schools...”

Brendan got firmer, defending his findings.  “What I’m saying, is that the numbers of people who come to Lost Haven.  IN MAINE.  Around times of metahuman activity.” He emphasized.  “Spike on these nationalities.  I mean, it’s not much point in marketing to Chinese and Saudi students… when the state isn’t competitive with attracting people from those nations.  Chinese students tend to lean more to the New York region, whilst Saudis tend to distribute through the other larger cities which aren’t New York.”

“If we lose local students… and possibly the temporary positive marketing boost that a football team brings, the school will certainly need to bring new students in to remain competitive.  Making ourselves attractive to international students just makes sense.”

Isaac opened his mouth to counter the statement and found himself incapable of responding.

"Now rugby is a growing collegiate sport here, we'd be riding a growing interest due to a World Cup and it's inclusion in the Olympics this year..."

"Sevens." Was the only thing Isaac could spit out. Not an argument. Just a correction.

"Yes, Rugby Sevens in the Olympics. There's also a major collegiate sevens tournament in just three months. It gets broadcoast coast-to-coast with NBC Sports..."

"But what we're going to need is a coach." Stated the Dean in a matter-of-fact tone. "And preferably one at no increased cost to the school, given the circumstances. Brendan here suggested you'd be qualified and interested in the role, given your age..."

This made Isaac wince. He already felt eyes on him on campus due to being a 28 year old freshman. There were teachers at LHU younger than him. Not many, but there were.

"...and your own experience with the sport back in Terraria."

This was borderline offensive, although again Isaac found himself powerless to refute it. Yes, he'd played some rugby back in high school and was alright at it, but he was hardly a schoolboy star or potential professional in the making. This was akin to telling a Canadian he'd coach ice hockey purely because he grew up in Canada.

So why couldn't he say as much?

Minutes later Isaac walked from the office red-faced... but the new coach of LHU rugby. And not the least bit happy about any of it.