IDRG Pyramid

Director Dyer peered over the city, wondering where the frogs were hiding. It had been too long since the subjects had escaped, and their patrols had yet to find even a sight of them. Not to say they haven’t seen signs, of course. IDRG more or less owned this city. It was an unsaid truth that what they said went in San Maria. They “liased” with the local law enforcement to ensure the citizenry were protected by cameras lining the streets, giving them a view of the entire city.

At least they had a view of the entire city. In the weeks since the escape, cameras had been going down across Santa Maria. These cameras also happened to be going out at the site of crimes being stopped by an unknown force, with the criminals claiming they were apprehended by some sort of alien creatures. Dyer knew better, of course. He knew it was the Frogs, and they were taunting him. They were showing that they were here, and they were fighting.

“You haven’t answered my question, Director,” Jeremy Jackson, the police commissioner of San Maria sat at the other end of Dyer’s desk. His hat was on his one knee, revealing the grey hair spreading from his temples, otherwise his follicles matched his jet black skin. Cracks from weary nights had begun to spread across the commissioner’s face, betraying the man’s recent struggles in holding the crime epidemic that consumed Pinebluff from doing the same to San Maria. “Did you have a containment breach of...something recently? We’ve been getting...reports.”

The fact that the authorities were starting to ask questions rubbed Dyer the wrong way. He had enough problems to deal with without the bureaucrats getting involved as well.

“Commissioner,” Dyer smiled at the man, “have I ever hidden something from you before?”

Jackson shook his head, “No. No you haven’t. But if what we’re hearing is correct, the Bay Cities have their first set of metahumans. We may need to work closely on this.”

“If that is true, expanded cooperation will be necessary to ensure our city remains peaceful, I agree,” Dyer extended his hand to the officer, who shook it. “San Maria is too stable to risk letting this kind of chaos engulf us as well.”

With a nod, the commissioner left, and Dyer went back to peering out the window.



“Guys,” Angel said through the special ear pieces Clara had designed for the team, “sounds like something’s going down in the Angel Grove section of the city. Local chatter, no police presence at this time.”

From her apartment, Angel had become their eyes and ears in the city. With a small police scanner and a...covert plug into the city’s goings on, she could feed them any disturbance that happened to come up. She was also invaluable during the day, as Art had decreed they needed to stay hidden. When she wasn’t at school or doing homework, Angel was watching the IDRG pyramid.

“Guys,” Mozart said to his siblings, “they’re playin’ our song.”

“Thanks, Angel,” Clara thanked their friend. “That’s where the Bandits have been trying to expand into the city.”

The Bayside Bandits basically ruled the neighboring city of Pinebluff. They were a gang with a penchant for creating chaos and corruption wherever they went. Their leader, known only as El Bandito, more or less ruled Pinebluff as a king, and the authorities there were fighting a fruitless campaign against his men. But he wasn’t the kind of guy who was content with having one city under his sway, and now San Maria was on his wish list.

The Frogs had clashed with his men a few times in the time since they escaped from the scientists, and each time it ended with the Bandits behind bars. The last few weeks had seen increased movement from the gang, however, leading Art to believe something big was on its way.

“More Bandits?” Ludwig sighed. “They just don’t learn, do they?”

“I mean, we have constantly been giving them concussions,” Bach added in. “They can’t help being forgetful.”

“CTE is nothing to joke about, B,” Clara reprimanded her youngest brother.

“Whatever, they’re dirtbags,” the young frog shrugged. “Let’s go crack some skulls.”

“I like where your head’s at, bro,” Ludwig cracked his knuckles. “We doin’ this or not?”

“Yea, we’re doing this,” Mozart nodded. “Let’s move out.”

In unison the frogs took off towards their destination. In the time since their escape the city had become their domain. They learned its nooks and crannies, allowing them to traverse the city in surprising speed, even on their own. It was now their habitat, and everyone else was just living in them. It had boosted all their spirits near immediately knowing they finally had a home.

Mozart, Clara, and Bach could move easier over the rooftops. Ludwig, being by far the biggest of the four, was a bit more plodding, and made a bit more noise, but still did pretty well. He lagged behind, but sometimes that worked out to their advantage. The three smaller frogs would soften up the enemy forces before their tank of a brother showed up to clear out the rest.

Before long the frogs were outside the warehouse where the Bandits were setting up. Two tractor trailers were sitting outside, and the gang members were loading cargo from inside into them. Crate upon crate was loaded onto the truck, and each had a strange emblem of an eye painted in red on the top of them.

“Well, this is new,” Clara said from over Mozart’s shoulder. “They’re moving someone else’s product. Usually they’re using their own dealers.”

“Who cares who they’re using?” Ludwig asked as he joined the others. “Let’s get in there.”

“Fine, but make sure someone gets some of the product,” Mozart commanded. “We need to find out what the hell they’re moving.”

The four nodded to one another, and Art took the lead, leaping off the roof and landing silently on the roof of one of the trucks. Bach landed next to him, and Clara on the other truck. He motioned for Ludwig to do his thing.

The large, hulking bullfrog kicked himself downward, and landed with a crash in the middle of the assembled gang members. Some of them yelled, some dropped the crates they were carrying and reached for their weapons, but none of them made it very far. Those within Ludwig’s grasp were quickly flying through the air, while the others were surprised by the other three frogs dropping down on top of them.

“You know,” Bach said as he elbowed a gang member in the gut, “you’d think they’d realize this is our MO at this point.”

“You’d think,” Mozart shrugged as he sprung off his hands and drove his feet into the chest of one of the Bandits who emerged from the warehouse. The two of them tumbled back into the building, where Mozart had his breath stolen from him. The same boxes that the gangsters had been unloading outside were piled almost to the ceiling inside. “Holy shit.”

Art crouched and began making his way silently through the makeshift city of crates. The creaking of wood echoed through the cavernous space as the frog weaved in and out of the towering monoliths. As he made his way closer and closer to the center of the building, the sound of his siblings fighting outside was gradually replaced by the rhythmic chants of a lone voice at the maze’s end.

Mozart turned the final corner of boxes and found himself staring at a scene he didn’t totally understand. Red, jagged runes were painted in a swirling design, terminating in another one of the red eye symbols at its center. On top of the eye, an olive-skinned, dark haired woman stood with her hands raised, the chanting emanating from her mouth. As Art entered the circle, she spun, and glared at him with dead, black eyes. The chanting stopped and she stared into the frog’s eyes. For a brief moment, her visage appeared to change. Like a flash, the smooth, tan skin of her face shrunk in and greyed, her face becoming more of a skull than that of a human. The white robes that hung on her form transformed into soiled, ragged bandages, and her limbs atrophied to skeletal remains. But, as if it was a dream, it was gone.

“What are you?” the woman snarled at Mozart.

“Lady, I could be asking you the same thing,” Art shrugged,pulled the bowstaff off his back, and gave it a twirl. “All I know is you’ve got this stuff the Bandits were running, so that means you’ve gotta go down.”

“Creature,” the woman smiled deceptively at Mozart, “you have no idea what kind of powers I possess.”

Art didn’t really care, if he was being honest. He sprung off his powerful legs and raised the staff over his head. As he came down from the high jump, something odd happened. The air around the woman began to bend, almost if Art had been suddenly plunged underwater. When he landed, the woman was gone.

“As I told you,” her voice came from behind him, “you have no idea.”

He spun around and saw the witch floating fifteen feet above the ground, her hair and robes billowing from an unseen wind, “I don’t know what you are, but you cannot stop us. Our time has finally come, and those that dwell in the darkness between the universes will consume all.”

With that, the chanting started again, but this time it was unnatural. The woman’s voice morphed into a mess of gargles, screams, growls, and hisses. Words, unlike anything Mozart had ever heard, came forth, and the crates filling the warehouse began to shake violently.

Art jumped again, landing on the rafters above just as the crates exploded. From them flowed a torrent of foul-smelling black liquid. It took all of Mozart’s focus not to pass out from the rancid, decayed stench. The oil-like substance sloshed along the floor of the building. It bubbled and gurgled as it circled below the woman, and Art swore he saw viscera swirl through it. It began to reach up, surrounding the chanting witch in a grotesque bubble. It then broke apart, splashing to the ground and draining through the warehouse’s drainage system.

When it did, the witch was gone.

Mozart lept down, and was promptly joined by his siblings. He searched high and low for any sign of the rancid liquid or the woman, but found none.

“Art, we gotta get out of here,” Ludwig implored.

“Did you guys see that?” he responded, still obsessed with finding some sign of what he had witnessed. “That...ooze?”

“We did,” Clara nodded. “But we can talk about it later. Come on. The cops are coming.”

The frogs made their way back to their lair, all the while Mozart tried to make sense of his night.

I finished wrapping a rope of spider silk around the three combatants that the three of us had just subdued. And even then, I had to gag the spellcaster and tied up the snout of the lizardman because the guy in the weird, yellow hate would have kept hurling spells at us, and the lizard guy would have kept spewing out fire. Meanwhile, those metallic cubes ominously hovered above the sky, as if they were waiting for something to happen. I don’t need a spider sense to know that something bad was going to happen.

The people, who had taken shelter inside the shops and buildings nearby, had just started to file out in order to escape the chaos that had fallen upon Pacific Point, when some television screens in one of the shop windows spontaneously turned on. A man, presumably the Game Genie, who wore a black, hooded cape, appeared on the television monitors.

“Citizens of Pacific Point. I have patiently waited for the Blue Blur to arrive at city hall, but he still ignores my challenge. Therefore, I felt like I needed to up the ante in order to convince him to come out from hiding. Unfortunately, that means you all have to suffer some more. And for that, I apologize, but it must be done.”

Suddenly, the metallic cubes began raining down red beams. However, instead of burning holes in people or something like that, the red lasers made anyone who was struck by it slowly fade away into nothing. After one of the cubes had hit a person, it would immediately turn around and float back towards city hall, as if it were carrying something back to the Game Genie’s headquarters. When people began disappearing, the crowd panicked as they tried to escape.

The three of us were paralyzed by not knowing what to do in this situation. We could have tried to protect the civilians by destroying the cubes before they could disintegrate them, or at least make them disappear. However, if the devices were actually capturing people with their red beams, we could possibly erase any captured victims from existence. Therefore, we would be damned if we don’t act and damned if we do. A real catch twenty-two.

The Son of Osiris was the first to act. Since he could not attack the cubes without risking the lives of the people who might have been captured by the cubes, the Son of Osiris formed an magical bubble shield around himself and some nearby bystanders so that he could block the red beams and allow these civilians to escape.

Meanwhile, the stroller that a woman had been pushing her young daughter in had been capsized when the crowd stampeded away from the swarm of metallic cubes. While the mother struggled to take her own daughter into her hands, one of the cubes took aim at the woman and the young girl. However, before the cube fired its red beam, Kyra dashed over to the woman and tried to help. And when the cube did emit its laser, Kyra sacrificed herself in order to give the woman and child time to get away. It took all of my willpower not to scream out her real name while I watched her disappear before my eyes.

When the cube began to turn to return to city hall, I was determined not to allow it to escape. With a pinpoint accuracy that I would only have dreamed of before I got my powers, I struck the metallic box with a webline. The cube struggled to move forward as I held it back with my spider strength. Even as my sixth sense buzzed in my head, I continued to pull back against the cube. If the Son of Osiris had not jumped forward and shielded me from another cube’s beam, I might have suffered from Kyra’s fate, too. When the magical shield came up, it severed my web strand, which released the cube, allowing it to finally fly back towards city hall.

“We can’t just leave her!” I told the Son of Osiris.

“I agree.” He communicated telepathically, “But we need to find a way to do that without getting hit by one of these cubes.”

I just really hope that we are correct that these cubes are only capturing people and not disintegrating them.

The Witch before him posed a veiled query of reasonable suspicion, he gave a smile. ”Well, mostly to make an appointment, then this blood piqued my curiosity.” The Witch continued to watch him and responded to his statement of transforming the Wolfboy back into his Human state, but before he was able to answer the Female before him began to panic in some weird anxiety attack. As she lifted a stone wall to the ceiling he paused, mentally confused as he spoke to the now risen wall. ”Did I say too much, was it my breath? To ostentatious; probably my breath.” Barron said as he popped a mint. He turned around, seeing all the pieces of blood and flesh left behind by the new wolf, picking up a good droplet of blood. ”Do I really need to chase them? I got all the blood I need from the Wolf Boy. But. I also don’t like being ignored, nor ran from like a rabid beast. Not unless I’ve killed someone. I suppose I’ll just make a point.” Just as Barron finished monologuing blood rushed his forearm drilling with ease into the wall like a high pressured water cutter cutting a hole about the size of a basketball while blood continued rushing past his arm as his body transmogrified into a limber blood form changing density as it grabbed and sprinted across the wall. Blood spread out passing the group quickly as the blood formed into a multi sided box closing in on the group as sharp crystallized blood floated from the surfaces they hovered in place until they grew spikes which began impaling each other growing in mass until Barron reformed before them holding a bag while cracking a wide grin. ”I was told once, An Immortals’ revival must either have a beautiful or terrifying regeneration sequence. So what do you think, too much? Needs more flair would you say?”

”Still I apologize for the confinement, I did mean I could help your current wolf problem, although walling me off and running away seems detrimental to my kind efforts. If I wanted any of you dead, clearly it wouldn't take much. I can allow more room if you won’t run off in a panic.”

Riley, now known as Voyager, stepped out into the open air for the first time in what was probably weeks of hiding away inside the lab. She didn’t really have time to enjoy the sensation before she bumped into the back of Shovel Knight’s head.

“Yeouch!” Voyager squawked, rubbing her chest where the Knight’s horns poked her.

“Another knight stands before us,” Shovel Knight announced, not seeming to notice what his horns were up to. “Whether of good or ill intent, I know not.”

Voyager looked at the girl in the hoodie who forced them to stop with a confused expression. Whether she was actually a knight or not she couldn’t tell, but judging by the gleaming sword gripped in her hand, she wasn’t here on accident.

”Stop!” the girl proclaimed. “Are you the ones who caused that destruction behind you?!” Voyager and Shovel Knight both looked over their shoulders at the lab building, looking thoroughly ravaged by the video game army’s invasion, the worst damage being the hole that the pair of them just happened to emerge from.

“Wait, this isn’t what it looks like!” Voyager tried to explain. “I got attacked by-” But what Voyager got attacked by, the girl with the sword never found out.

“YOU STAND ON U.S SOIL MUTIE! BY THE ORDER OF PRESIDENT RICHARDSON YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!! FOR YOU HAVE CROSSED. FRANK HORRIGAN!”

”I’ll get back to you two later, first I got a bloody nasty Boss, over there that’s endangering Civvies. One who won’t back down until killed.” Eva said as she drew her sword and pulled a strange bird sized creature from her hoodie pocket, drawing more curious looks from the shovel-wielding knight and his strange-looking companion. Who looked around confused while yawning. His pale white skin looking slimy as Eva held him close and spoke. ”Time to get big, kinda need the muscle here.”

Dickens leaped out of her hands, his legs growing in girth as he grew taller, thicker and more violent looking, until. He paused to lick Eva. She tried to force him to stop, as his his stupid happy mug was pushed back, although he more reacted to her pushing him than her own strength having any effect. ”HIM! He’s the Bloody danger! Not my face.” Eva yelled out to a dim witted Dickens who rose up his massively beaked head and began stopping towards Frank Horrigan. Shovel Knight was shocked by this turn of events, and Voyager was utterly ecstatic. The former an offhand, awed comment about sorcery before he was drowned out entirely by the latter.

“THAT! WAS! AMAZING!” Voyager shrieked, her eyes practically (and literally) glowing as she jumped up and down on the spot. “HOW MANY OF THOSE DO YOU HAVE?”
Eva looked back towards the odd girl frantically beside herself at seeing Dickens do his thing.
”I. You’re an excitable one yeah, just the one. Just the one, still not really the time for this, gonna get busy here.”

“The Sword Maiden is correct, let us save pleasantries for when the Order is vanquished, Lady Voyager,” Shovel Knight interjected. “To arms!”

Dickens charged in first as he grabbed Frank by the arm, the Monster himself, easily threw him aside crashing into another building as another creature was watching the God of Decay himself, Chaos. His furred form leaped into battle as stone protrusions crashed into Dickens from the Apes’ arms. Frank turned to see the two beast fighting. “ABOMINATIONS, THE LOT OF THEM. THEY WILL BE DESTRO---” As Eva’s sword slashed at his back interrupting him and forcing him to acknowledge her presence.

“ANOTHER MUTIE, FINE YOU SHALL BE THE FIRST!” As laser claws popped from his wrist device and clanged against her sword.

Frank slashed not one but thrice as he stopped and spoke. “INTERESTING. YOU SHOULD BE DEAD BY NOW, THAT SWORD WILL NOT SAVE YOU FOR LONG.” The power-armored behemoth drew back his laser claw for a deadly blow, but recoiled slightly as bursts of purple energy pelted him like explosive snowballs. He turned to look at Voyager, furiously charging and firing Psiblasts at his hulking form.

His breathing was heavy, his voice echoed as he laughed. “A PUNY PSYKER THINKS IT CAN TAKE FRANK HORRIGAN. MUTIE! AMUSING AS YOU ARE, I HAVE FELLED YOUR KIND BEFORE.” His mini gun roared as he blasted the ground by Voyager with bolts of plasma melting the pavement into a goo scalding hot. Voyager’s eyes widened under her helmet as the searing wall of death arced toward her, leaping into the air with a well-timed Psicharge seconds before it hit her, trailing energy and firing a charged Psiblast right at the armored hulk’s face right before landing roughly on her rear a few meters away.

“Betcha haven’t faced anything like me though,” Voyager retorted, rubbing her backside tenderly as she scrambled to her feet.

Another fight raged on, Dickens had tumbled into various buildings as Chaos continued to pummel away at his torso, trying to pierce his hide with rebar, Dickens reached up and grabbed his arm with his maws, chomping through the flesh as it digitized away Chaos bit into Dickens thick neck as he thrashed about, knocking the giant Ape off his back and tail whipping him into the street. Eva saw Dickens mildly struggling but he didn’t seem to have that much trouble. As Frank sneered at the beasts fighting in the background. The Civilians took their time to leave but had all scattered, Eva stood her ground fighting toe to toe with The Enclave Bodyguard, drawing his attention long enough for the knight with the shovel to make an attack. Swinging his odd weapon around, he leapt into the air with surprising grace and swung the shovel into Horrigan’s helmet, producing a mighty clang not unlike a church bell being rung that made everyone’s ears ring.

“You adorn yourself in armor you don’t have the honor of wearing, you cur!” Shovel Knight degraded as he swung around for another shovel-backhand.

“CUR! MY ARMOR IS MADE FOR DEFENDING MY COUNTRY FROM MUTANTS LIKE YOURSELF! ALL WHO ARE NOT OF, THE ENCLAVE! ARE IMPURE AND MUST BE EXTERMINATED FOR THE SAKE OF HUMANITY! YOU ARE NO DIFFERENT.” Frank stumbled back due to the force of the Shovel as then an Ape then flew into him, knocking him over. Chaos forced himself to stand as Frank angrily tossed the Ape aside while a T-Rex jumped into the weird fray attacking Chaos and pushing the two back towards Dickens the Rex’s Rocketpack jetted off further as Dickens sank it’s maw into the Rex’s tail and yanked it to the ground, cracking the earth and sending shockwaves radiating outwards

”OI. What the Bloody hell is all this, Rex’s and Apes, and Frank Horrigan, god, what the hell. I can’t even enjoy all the other characters running around and you had to show your mug, you massive douche. Richardson is already dead, you should be too.”

“AS LONG AS I STILL STAND AMERICA PREVAILS!” Horrigan yelled as his minigun raged through the trio causing them to scatter, and taking the chance to lunge in, Frank brought his claws down upon Eva who had not yet had the chance to block, but Voyager leapt in front of her just in time, conjuring the Psionic energy around her arms and blocking the strike. With a blow that would have otherwise cleaved through Voyager’s outstretched arms, Horrigan smashed his claws against the barrier, knocking a winded Voyager to the ground and producing a sharp cracking noise from her helmet. Eva quickly lashes out against the vicious attack slicing at his neck, causing the behemoth to recoil back.

”Much thanks, you alright?” Eva asked as Frank began to strike against the pair, with Shovel Knight leaping in to parry the massive claw alongside Eva as Riley stumbled with her helmet.

“I’m f-fine, just...need a moment,” Riley said breathlessly, attempting to get to her feet.

“Stand firm!” Shovel Knight cried out in encouragement, only for Horrigan to knock the shovel out of his way and move in for another killing blow. With a slight scoffing noise from the knight, the shovel vanished with a pop as Shovel Knight took out a pair of oversized, sand-colored gauntlets from hammerspace, punching aside the claw and pummeling Horrigan in the chest until he backed off. “You’re not the only one with a few tricks up his armored sleeve!” Shovel Knight retorted, clanking the gauntlets together before stowing them and pulling his trusty Shovel out again, seemingly out of nowhere. Frank Horrigan’s armored plating took each blow but received heavy damage he shrugged of the damage, striking at Shovel Knight’s weapon repeatedly in his attempt to overpower the armored defender, Eva held her hand out towards Voyager to help the girl to her feet who she couldn’t help but notice the odd shape of her legs, but considering she had an Alien pet and knew Ghosts it wasn’t something that shocked her all that much. ”Need a hand?”

“Yeah, th-thanks,” Riley stuttered as she was helped into a standing position again, readjusting the helmet so she could see again. “Ghay'cha, this guy’s tough….”

”We’ll need to end this soon though got any more blasts in you, I’ll go low and try to cripple his legs.”

“Oh I have plenty of Psi left to go around,” Voyager said, her eyes glowing ominously. “Let’s beat this chump!”

”Frank Horrigan was never a chump, I remember him from Fallout 2, he has nearly a thousand hit points. It’s no wonder he’s shrugging off our hits, he can probably do this all day, but I’d rather not spend that long. Ready yourself, I’m going in.” Eva charged, sliding into position on Frank’s left side as she took a swing at his legs, trying to distract him long enough for that other girl to blast him.

“Wait, where do I shoot?!?” Voyager shouted, charging Psienergy in her hands as she readied her attack.

”Just shoot! There’s no weakness in his armor!” Eva yelled as her blade slashed at his legs. Horrigan stumbled and nearly fell over as Voyager unleashed a beam of crackling PsiEnergy, kicking up the dust on the ground and searing the exposed armor plating covering his chest.

“YOU MUTANT SCUM, JUST LIKE YOU TO TRY A TRICK LIKE THAT.” He said as he swiftly grabbed Eva by her hoodie holding her by his gun arm as he readied his laser blade, Eva kicked and struggled as Frank continued to prattle on. “NOTHING CAN HELP YOU NOW, NOTHING WILL.” As he pulled back his arm for a thrust Dickens, who until now had been fighting off both Giant Monsters, charged in head first plowing into both Frank Horrigan and Eva sending Frank into a nearby building and running off with a T-Rex hanging on his neck as Chaos clung to his back.

“Uh...is that how you’re supposed to beat him?” Riley asked, staring as the unstoppable juggernaut of a man got carried off by a gang of kaiju.

As Eva stood clutching her sore ribs. ”Not really, but it’ll do. Although we better hit him while he’s down, otherwise he’ll just keep coming.” Eva walked over towards the unconscious Frank Horrigan, plunging Excalibur deep into Frank’s skull. And with a final gasp of air he called out.

“Duty.. Honor. Semper Fiiiii........” As his pixelated body began to fade out of existence, Eva looked towards Dickens who was still fighting off the Monsters.

”We should probably give Dickens a hand, before he brings down the entire block. So. I’m gonna guess you aren’t the bad guys, name’s Pendragon, you’ve met Dickens, and this. Is Excalibur.”

“A sword truly worthy of its wielder,” the horned knight in blue announced. “I am Shovel Knight, and this is my compatriot, the lady known as Voyager.”

“Uh, hi,” Voyager responded, sheepishly waving one hand and grinning slightly. “And yeah, the sword’s kinda neat, but...what’s a Dickens?”

At the flip of a switch what was once a dark room illuminated only by digital interfaces became slightly less hostile in the ambient illumination of Christmas lights. ℝoot wasn't the holiday cheer type but the ice-lights packed into fiber-optic diffusion tubes created a general ambient light with no source orbs to burn the eyes or casting glare on her electronics. The bus ride home had been an exhausting one, but also a cathartic one, as her long project had finally come to a close.

She too her thick black-framed glasses off and set them on the desk while dropping into an expensive office chair with lumbar support. With a flick of her mouse several monitors lit up to reveal what they always did: many many programs running in the background, and one in the foreground. ℝoot checked her VPN status, and augmented her bypasses, as well as checking in with a laundry list of hacks she had been running while out. It had become something of a ritual for her and she took this moment to check in with her friends.

10:46 ℝoot: I win.
10:47 Riemann: How the fuck did you do that?
10:47 ℝoot: You may as well ask the sun how it rises every morning, Rie-Rie, I'm just that good.
10:49 Riemann: No, I mean, I paired his phone and cloned is laptop. I monitored him on security cams and hacked his CCTV with a worm. You had literally no access point.
10:50 ℝoot: ...
10:51 ℝoot: How many calls did he answer?
10:52 Riemann: 136.
10:52 ℝoot: Not how many calls he picked up. How many calls did he answer?
11:00 Riemann: Just... the first one.

ℝoot leaned back in her chair and wondered if she had cheated her friend on their wager. There had been a rather large pool of people in her online community whom all had taken the challenge. While no one in her anon collective considered themselves heroes, they had all each agreed to take down a truly despicable target. The wager was on figuring out just how each person did theirs. Who ever succeeded in taking down their target without being caught by the other members of the community, or having their methods unraveled, was declared the winner. With only personal pride on the line, in a world of anonymity, there was little incentive but also no reason not to try.

11:28 Riemann: I concede.
11:28 Riemann tips his hat to the superior player.
11:30 Riemann: So... did you ever get your glasses fixed?

It was an uncomfortable subject. The glasses ℝoot had been wearing all day were placeholders. She still hadn't worked up the courage to mend her electro-electroencephalographic augmented reality display. Not after it tore her a new brain. She let the cursor blink on her screen as she tried to find some excuse.

11:37 ℝoot: I... I can't.
11:37 Riemann: You?
11:37 ℝoot: I'm scared okay?
11:38 Riemann:

11:40 ℝoot: I just haven't been myself since the last time I used them.
11:38 Riemann: I feel ya, sister, but you're not one to be beaten by this. We both know going to put them back on eventually. Might as well be sooner rather than later.

She was frustrated, and borderline angry and lashed out at the source of her pain. Grabbing the cheap plastic glasses off her desk she crumpled them in her hands and threw them at the wall. The scratch resistant lenses cut her hand as she did so and a few droplets of blood went with the frames as they smashed into the wall. She screamed in existential agony as the pain in her hand was a mere fraction of the pain in her heart.

"Shut the fuck up!" A mans voice yelled through the thin apartment walls while banging his fist on it.

She pinched the wound in her hand to stem the flow of blood, but let it bleed rather than bandage it. The body was designed, for the most part, to clean itself. Once the blood stopped she rinsed the wound and applied some antibiotic and a bandage. It took her a minute or two to get back to the computer because she really didn't want to admit the truth of the situation.

11:50 ℝoot: God dammit you're right. You're always right.
11:51 Riemann: I know. You wouldn't put up with me if I wasn't.
11:55 ℝoot: I think I'm ready, but... I'll need a bigger fish this time.
11:56 Riemann: At-a-girl.

With an alt tab, and couple lines of code, several news sites began streaming video in the apartment. The volume on her computer was low, as she didn't wish to disturb her irritable neighbor, and the stories were playing in the background as she got to work redesigning her digital glasses. She hadn't before paid much attention to super-freaks before she became one, but story after story featured on the news made her realize something.

12:17 ℝoot is attempting to share a file.
12:17 Riemann accepted the file.
12:17 Download complete.
12:18 Riemann: You have got to be kidding me.
12:19 ℝoot: I know it's no run-of-the-mill child sex-trafficking ring, but I think I'm up to the challenge.
12:20 Riemann: Are you sure that EEGARD didn't fry your brain? You're about to meddle in the affairs of supers.
12:20 ℝoot: Yes. I am.
12:21 Riemann: Awesome. How can I help?

The two went to work initiating a hack on ever news channel broadcast, on ever channel, and sent to every city. It was a blatant thing. But rather than hijack the feeds to play a video, which would be child's play, they did something a little more sophisticated: they hacked the subscripts. While news played without interruption the scrolling feed at the bottom of every screen read the same thing:

What do we do!?
You can sit tight and wait here.
The Shadow is going to pay a visit.

"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?" ℝoot quoted at the screen while observing her handywork. "The Shadow knows!"

---

Marie let out a quick gasp as Barron began his bloody onslaught, blood rising from the grotesque pool of flesh left behind by Ben’s transformation and boring into the wall raised by the stranger. Holt placed himself between Marie and the fight that was sure to unfold, but the vampire’s efforts were aimed only at the wolves. Within seconds, all three strangers were encased in a cage of blood, drawing them in closer.

”Enough . . .” Marie mumbled, head facing the concrete floor. Rage coursed through her veins. This whole ordeal was taking its toll on her, setting her back from her goal. First a werewolf, then another, and now a confrontational vampire. Gwyneth’s memories were spiraling in the opposite direction while Marie and company stood at a stalemate in New York. It was all too much.

”Enough!” Marie screamed, head raised, malice filling every corner of the store-room. A cold chill began to spread over them all as Holt, responding to Marie’s mental cues, allowed his essence to fill the air, frost creeping across the floor, ceiling, and resting displays. Large tables and busts began to rise into the air, influenced by Marie’s anger. They circled Baron’s wall of blood, hovering menacingly.

”You,” she pointed at Baron, ”You just had to come along and make matters worse. Everything was falling into place, he was calming down, we were closer to a solution, closer to getting the hell out of here before you decided to rear your ugly head, but no! Nothing’s ever that easy! You waltz in, offering to help, and then you go all aggro on everyone just for the hell of it, I am so sick of these set backs.”

Marie drew closer. Despite the chill of the room, she carried with her a supernatural wave of heat, which passed through the wall of blood, bathing the strangers in it. An ethereal wind began to swirl around the room, the clashing elements and temperatures producing a low rumble.

”I haven’t been feeling like myself lately, and Elder-Breed Vampire or not, I won’t hesitate if you lift a hand to any of them. So you can either get over yourself and help us, or get the hell away from us. But I swear, make the wrong decision and you will regret it.”

Marie heard her words, she felt all of her movements, and yet there was a distance between her and her actions. Such a thing happened once before, the first time she felt Gwyneth’s true power, or a fraction of it, in the fight against the Silver Sorceress in Diplodoc’s base. She wondered if that was happening now, if she was tapping into that part of herself which she had forgotten. This confidence was new, rather, new to her. In truth, Marie’s confidence was over five centuries old, and it had made her far more brazen and transformed her into a greater threat.

---

---

The Las Vegas underworld is far more literal than what its denizens may realize. Just beneath the sinners’ feet lies a haven for even greater sins. What rebellions take place on Earth are nothing compared to those that occur at its center, and the greatest rebellion of all, Witchcraft, finds a just as humble a home beneath the Earth’s surface as in her dense forests. It is here where the most noble reside and mingle, the leaders of the Five Families of Las Vegas, powerful witches and sorcerers whose influence spreads far and deep. They are the ones who support this city, who keep it aloft. And it is here, for now, where their queen resides.

Hekate, in her truest form, floats about a blackened room, walls covered in occult markings and lined with shelves upon shelves of arcane knowledge. This is her temple, her throne room, the center of her operations in the country. The circular room is host to other fantastical and ethereal features such as vines creeping along marble rafters, starlight reflecting from ornate mirrors forged in the Otherworld, a garden of poisons and herbs to fuel the witches pharmaka, their spells. But at its center lay something from a faery tale, a large well filled with light from a distant land.

”You are a smart one, Broker,” she whispers to the pool, perhaps calling to Greed’s mind, sending him a message of congratulations, or perhaps admiring his work. The well revealed pieces of his thinly veiled plan, a newly crafted Soul Stone hovering in the water’s reflection. ”To use lost souls in such a way is both commendable and deplorable, but either way, you have crafted a truly dangerous artifact. One has to wonder, what poor soul did you manipulate to create such an unholy stone?”

Hekate posed the question to the well, waving a hand over its surface. The water shimmered, a thick fog obscuring her vision. Curious . . . she thought. Reaching for a vial of dark liquid, a few poisonous herbs, and a small wand, she began to conjure a spell to peer through the wall of obscurity.

”Graeae, agents of Fate, hear me,” she began, tossing the herbs into the well, allowing a few drops of the black, viscous liquid to break its surface, and stirring the waters with the tip of the wand. ”Lend me your aid. I call upon your omniscience. Grant me your sight, grant me your Eye.”

As she spoke the invocation, the cloud began to peel away, a woman’s figure floating in the water’s surface. Her shape was clear, but her face was still unseen, masked by magic. Hekate was annoyed, but she watched the figure for a while, seeing what it was that made her so special. The woman walked into an ornate building, a museum, surrounded by elements of the craft. Hekate recognized this place as the Museum of Natural History in New York.

”She is but a simple girl, Broker, a lowly witch. How could she have performed and survived such an ordeal?” Hekate continued watching the scene unfold until something caught her interest. There was a spark, a surge of energy that even Hekate felt. She moved in closer, watching the woman take something from a display. When the two touched, Hekate noticed an invisible glow around the girl, a flash of something powerful. Interesting . . . she thought. I’ll have to keep an eye on this girl, but first I need to know who she is. And for that, I may need some assistance.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind that her chamber door opened, allowing a veiled woman to enter. Hekate almost raised her voice to the intrusion, but then she felt the woman’s presence, felt her longing heart. Hekate was touched, brought to the brink of tears.

”My dear, is it truly you? Have you come to stir my heart and ease my mind?” Hekate moved in close, feet touching the cold stone floor.

“Yes my lady,” the woman responded “It is I, and how I have missed your embrace.” She moved in close, engaging in a long hug with the goddess. Pulling back, the woman removed her veil, long, dark locks falling effortlessly onto her pale shoulders, flawless, rosy skin and supple lips kissing the goddess’s cheeks.

There stood the legendary sorceress, daughter of Aeetes, granddaughter of Helios, niece of Circe, and loyal follower of Hekate. There stood the witch, Medea.

Hekate smiled, pulling her in closer once again, happy to see one of the few true friends she had ever made. ”My dear, we have much to discuss.”

A vampire!? A Witch!? Oh, and two werewolves!? This was starting to get way out of hand, as if that wasn't apparent with the highly unwelcome addition of The Barron. Blood, ice, anger, fangs, claws, sweat, trembling, the list went on. Skyler could barely contain himself, a sense of dread filling him to the brink. He was shaking, visibly so, as if shivers running down his spine. With strength leaving his legs at a rapid pace, the boy fell to his knees, his teeth clenched with fingers nearly digging into his arms as his they embraced the frail body he called his own. "No..." Though unable to feel the icy chill, unable to feel the magical shroud of heat emanating from the Witch, Skyler could clearly fill in the gaps. A battle was about to take place between en Elder Vampire and a Witch. Adding an Efreet to the mix wasn't going to help the situation, neither was adding two werewolves and poor Mushroom found himself in the middle of it.

Closing his eyes, Skyler attempted his focus solely at containing the raging inferno which at this point was trying to force its way out of him. Fire, it was an emotional power, an emotional source of devastation. Without a heart at ease, the boy's flames taken from the deepest pits of hell itself would free themselves and engulf the crystalline cage the group had found themselves in. "Y-you're all..." The boy finally spoke, swallowing his fears for the brief second of a moment. "You're all insane..." He stammered, struggling back to his converse clad feet before stumbling towards the wall with Mushroom moving closer to him out of desperation. An unwise decision, given the rippling air which had started to surround him, as if a scorching desert wind. "Get the hell away from me, all of you..." Turning a shade darker, and growing as he spoke, the boy's horns were responding to his emotional distress. His skin was growing slightly paler, and his eyes were starting to invert colors. The now clearly visible tail was rippling with traces of hell fire, his body trembling from fear, confusion and anxiety.

This was too much. It was going too far. Trapping an unstable demon in a box with other supernaturally powered beings wasn't the wisest of decisions and this vampire appeared old but wisdom had surely not arrived with age. Tensing his frame, Skyler found his breath leaving him, not out of exhaustion but in an attempt not to lose control. Once more falling to a knee, the boy attempted to maintain his inferno, his embrace tightening around his frame. It would however appear to be a losing battle, his powers far too unstable, and far too powerful for him to contain.

Slapping his hand against the wall, Skyler could no longer deny the feeling of absolute ecstasy accompanying the release of his dormant powers. He couldn't contain them, but neither could he unleash them like he so desperately wanted. Shifting his focus to the wall behind him, a roaring wave of flames licked its shape and tore into it like a ravaging beast locked behind bars. Causing the wall to boil, Skyler's hand was engulfed in the fire though untouched by its infernal rage. Anyone without the fires of hell coursing through their veins would surely feel the immense heat compacted into the crystalline cage. "I've had enough..." Skyler spoke through clenched teeth, his eyes moving up to the vampire before him, as if his demonic self had completely taken over with courage and rage. "I'm done being caged...no one...no one will keep me under their thumb anymore..."

Letting go of the wall, Skyler's flames continued to freely burn the shape without his contact, his demonic eyes now fixed on the vampire. "I don't know what I am...I don't know what fucking horror story spit me out...but I'm done being pushed around." Shifting in color, the boy's flames were starting to take on an unnatural color of the darkest night, turning a jet black which started to eat into the wall and surrounded him as if a spiraling shield. "Honestly...I don't even fucking care anymore! If you're truly a vampire, you don't like the sun much, right? I am the fucking sun...!" Finally breaking through the crystalline wall, Skyler's jet black flames continued to spread along the remaining walls.

Broken, shattered and mentally fragile, Skyler finally reached his breaking point. One could only poke the bear so much before it decided to bite back. With black claws now covering his fingers, the boy's skin turned a chalk white, his horns fully grown to reveal his clear, demonic nature and his shirt started to peel away from the heat emanating from his skin. "Touch Ben you asshole, and there won't even be ashes left of you..." Echoing through the air, Skyler's voice had taken on a clear demonic tone. It was evident that he had been through enough.

Ben’s eyes never left Barron. His fur stood on end and his blue irises heated at the vampire’s very presence. On impulse, his black lips curled back to expose his canines farther. Every muscle became tensed and taunt against his fur until he felt ready to burst. Some invisible instinct drove him on to rid himself of this creature and a threat to his pack. Rage flowed through his very veins and warmed his very core, his intelligence dulled down to a signal focus point: Getting rid of Barron and protecting the others.

Without much thought, his figure stepped in front of Skyler and blocked the young boy from view. Unnoticed by Benjamin, or likely any others, Skyler had crumbled to his knees and started to tremble in panic from the emotional trauma. The situation was quickly getting out hand and the inner beast knew it. His growl increased at the thought, the sound rumbled through his core. He crouched down into a ready lunge again as his snapped his teeth in response, chattering in anger.

He jerked to leap at Barron when suddenly there was a rumbled and a wall sprung up. Shocked at the expected object, Ben’s paws gripped into the ground the moment his paws touched the ground. His figure barely screeched to a halt as his head whipped at Ji’s scream for Skyler to run. Confusion spread across the wolf’s muzzle and his eyes flipped back to the wall. Mentally, he was debated on his choice of flight or fight reflex before another grinding sound caught his attention. His eyes narrowed upon the wall’s surface when blood erupted from it.

Ben jerked back in surprise and snarled in reaction. The limber arms spread and move about him as it rushed ahead, the wolf quickly realizing what was happened only seconds too late. Ben’s mind shouted at Ji to warn her, ‘No! Stop!’

Too late. Before he could stop himself, his paws were already on the move and rushing to her side to help. Blood crystallize and within moments solidified, separating the wolves (the efreet too) from Marie’s eyesight. They were trapped within a strange box like cage as Barron slowly emerged a few feet in front of Ben. A growl rippled through the pup’s chest at seeing the vampire’s cocky smirk followed by his insistence that he just wanted to help. Puffing himself up, Benjamin snorted in disbelief over the words uttered by the creature and resumed his growling.

‘Leave… NOW!’ Ben’s telepathy yelled within Barron’s mind, a sensation of childish and beastial temper.

A small supernatural heat wafted through liquid and passed through the captives, but it was nothing compared to what came next. It was then Skyler’s situation become known to everyone. The boy’s inner struggle had been ignored in Ben’s single thought process as extreme heat, surpassing the temperature of the earlier wave, poured over one of the blood walls. The flame greedily licked up the form and began to devour it. Gradually it twisted into an unnatural color, black. Like a living thing, the fire roared across causing Ben to jerk away just to avoid getting burn. Meanwhile, a small whimper escaped Ben’s muzzle when he watched Skyler’s transformation. The boy’s small stubs extended into two fully grown horns, his skin paled, and voice changed from the usual timid tone he held. His one hand still held the flame in dark claws as he shouted his threat to Barron in guttural voice.

Ben’s cautious telepathy poured into Skyler’s mind, his eyes stared deeply at the demon within their presence. Fear and confusion mingled with each other, but most of all the strongest emotion was worry. Images of Skyler passed from Ben’s mind to the now transformed boy, Ben’s mind having trouble drawing a connection to the name and figure that stood before him now, ‘Sky...S-Skyl...er? Hurt?’

Stopping dead in his tracks, the boy felt as if paralyzed, his feet unable to move with eyes wide from the sudden voice echoing through his mind. "Ben..." The boy's thoughts returned, his teeth clenched before his body released the tension which had been building up inside. For a moment, the chaos seemed to pass him by unnoticed, as if he had been dragged out of the abyss by the voice of a loved one. Yes, a loved one, indeed. "Ben, I'm sorry...I..." Shifting his demonic eyes from The Barron and towards Benjamin, Skyler found himself as if enchanted by the wolf's ocean blue gaze. For the first time, the two locked eyes, gazing into each other's souls as the beasts they were. School days had come and gone, but their connection never came to be. Skyler's ceaseless hunger for the wolf's attention, his affection, his love, it was only now being met with a response, now in the deepest pits of depravity.

Once more trembling from fear and anxiety, Skyler's ravaging advance as the demon he was reached an abrupt halt. "H-hurt...yes..." The Efreet's thoughts continued, boiling tears forcing their way out of his eyes before dripping onto the ice covered floor, causing the frozen water to evaporate in steam. "Ben...it...it hurts so much..." Unable to shield himself from the influx of images pouring into his mind, Skyler's momentary calmness came to an explosive end. Abuse, neglect, hatred, sorrow, misery, devastation...death. The images came flooding and it all ended with Skyler's sister set ablaze beneath the same flames now tearing through the walls.

Taking a step back, the boy shook his head in disbelief, his eyes never leaving Benjamin's heavenly visage. "I'm sorry, Ben. I'm sorry..." Finally regaining enough control to spin around and dash out of the room. Though the flames ravaged on, they were starting to die out due to Skyler's unstable state of mind.

It didn't take long until he fell down to his knees on the grass outside, his claws holding onto his head as the boy screamed out in a demonic cry. A scream of anguish and pain washed over him, the hellish flames which had been encircling him sporadically spinning around the boy. He was unable to prevent the tears from making their way down his cheeks, the wave of emotions too much to bare. Joining the screaming with anguished cries, Skyler was feeling the loss of control seeping into his infernal rage, though wasn't able to retract their advance. His powers were simply too powerful for him to manage effectively and started to grow in size around him.

Like a bonfire, the Efreet was engulfed in his black fire, the flames creating an infernal orb which encased him inside. At this point, it was quite clear that this orb was imploding, getting smaller before it would eventually explode and more than likely consume the entirety of the museum along with the blast. Sixteen years of pent up flames were forcing their way out of their owner all at the same time, and the devastated creature within their embrace was all but helpless to halt their approach.

Isaac was perched over the dockyards overlooking the Delaware and New Jersey beyond.

He’d had a mixed day. Battered and bruised from the rugby 7s tournament, with sprigg-marks up his legs and back. He, of course, felt none of them and they did make a quality alibi for bruises and other markings he might get from his other… extracurricular activities. Such as what he was doing here.

Overall the team had done better than expected on the day as well. 2-1. So they got a win. Against some school called Bowling Green. After dropping the first two games, Isaac thought they were playing at an alternate venue for a split second when he saw the opposing school’s name.

Blame it on concussion…

But apparently it was a pretty good win to have. Bowling Green had a pretty solid history with their own rugby team, but were in a “rebuilding phase” needing to replace several recently graduating star players.

He went out to a nearby venue along the riverfront to celebrate the win with the team, making sure they understood they’d still be representing the school the next day since the tournament was a multi-day festival environment. On the tv, perched over a beer, Isaac caught it on the news.

A news story on a recent trend of unexplained violent crimes and widespread incidents of trespass along the riverfront and docks.

The stadium was on the riverfront, the pub he was sitting in was on the riverfront, the accommodation LHU sprung for was also on the riverfront. It was too much for him to resist.

---

Which is why the man in black sits perched over the dockyards, watching as 5 similarly garbed men - also in black, wearing balaclavas - cut a hole through a chain link fence to break into the huge storage shed complex some 30 feet below.

He watched as the quintet kept to the shadows, running briskly to the massive doors of the complex. The sliding doors seemed to be locked by a simple padlock, from Isaac’s vantage point, but they ignored it - choosing to instead search the panelling on the right side. After a few seconds a small panel came away, exposing an electronic security pad for biometric testing. Tools were removed as they looked to crack the security.

These people had done recon. They may not have the means to easily gain access, or even known the exact location of the pad… but they knew enough to look for it.

Isaac’s curiosity grew with each passing second. They weren’t meant to be here and whatever secrets this place held, they were likely important. He’d wait until they breached and would then swoop in and take them out from the inside. If they had a getaway car and support, he didn’t want any reinforcements blindsiding him as he tried to take these 5 out whilst in the open.

Extended minutes passed, and suddenly the light on the pad flashed green. With the security bypassed the huge doors slid open, barely exposing some massive grey mass located within to the moonlight. The 5 ran inside. None kept watch by the egress point. That error would cost them dearly.

The grapple line clanked awkwardly when it hit the metal roof, but it wouldn’t be enough to help them. Nothing could help them. Not now.

Isaac’s pitch black form swung across the night. His boots echoed loudly as they clanked heavily with his landing on some kind of metal platform. He wanted them to know he was here. To fear what was coming. Most of his gear was still miles away in Lost Haven, but he wouldn’t need it. Not for 5 lowlife thieves in Philadelphia. Safe Philadelphia. The “freaks” didn’t protect Philadelphia.

Gun muzzles flashed. Already they were firing blindly. The Vigilante could feel the heightened anxiety in the air. It exhilarated him. If any were looking they could have seen the bright whites of his eyes, and the moonlight reflecting off of his grin as he dropped behind one and pulled him into the shadows in a sleeper hold.

Four.

“Shit! He’s got--” One exclaimed

“Names! No names!” warned another.

“Who the hell was that?”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s one of him, four of us. Regroup now. Back to back. He’s trying to pick us off, whoever it is!”

“Smart…” thought Isaac. He no longer had a target he could take without seeing him coming. The four men slowly crabwalked their way through the huge complex, guns aimed out and waiting for a target. Isaac was still no closer to why they were here though. Peering back towards the open doors he could make out the letters “R I D G” in white paint on grey from the moonlight.

No help. Any answers would likely have to come from the 4 men below

“What do you think happened to him? Who-- who is this guy?” one of the four stammered, turning back to the leader with sweat glimmering off his brow.

Weak point.

“No idea. Focus on the mission. Gun’s out and eyes open.” the man who appeared to be the Field Leader responded, putting him back to task.

“Did--did any of you hear him use a gun?” he turned back for a half second again. It was all he needed. A dark figure swept in, and clipped something to the panicked man. As the others turned with guns drawn, all they had time to see was their compatriot flying off quickly with the sound of a high speed winch. Seconds later gasps and grunts as a figure in the darkness knocked the hell out of him. Then heavy silence.

Three.

“Fuck!”

The leader once again assessed the situation. “He’s unarmed or unwilling to shoot. Guns out, eyes open. He’s still trying to pick us off. It’s definitely just one target. Don’t give him anything to pick at. We’re nearly there.”

The three traversed the floor slower now. Nerves clearly strained.

Metal clattered hard off the concrete, the three turned and took aim.

“Hold! He’s trying to dra--!” the Leader exclaimed, cut off as the Vigilante swept in and dropped him with a heavy lead hook. The others turned to take aim but couldn’t fire… he used the unconscious body of the leader as cover, before dropping him awkwardly and disappearing behind a corner.

Two. And no head.

“Fuck! FUUUUCK! What do we do!?”

“Calm down. Back to back like he said…”

“What’s the damn point? He’s picking us off anyway! And without--”

“Names!”

"Without… Jerry,” the man said, clearly making up a name “We can’t complete the mission anyway. He’s the only one who can get access to the full documentation.”

“Documentation, yes. But we can still achieve Secondary. We take the device, they can disseminate how it works.”

“We should just get the hell out of here!”

“Well there’s the damn door if you think whoever the Hell is doing this will just let you walk on out!”

Seconds passed while the first hot head clearly weighed his options. Isaac furrowed his brow, he was hoping for a couple of headless chickens after he removed the obvious leader. But this other, who he could now tell from her voice was a woman, had settled the ship.

Wouldn’t matter. Mildly disappointing, but wouldn’t make a difference.

The hothead raised his sidearm and the two very slowly changed direction; their mission now changed.

Isaac weighed his own options. Which would be the easier to take down, who would be easier to get to spill with information of their mission, would one be an easier final takedown? All signs pointed to leaving the hothead for last. All things different he clearly would have rathered be somewhere else right now. Isaac couldn’t blame him. Especially once he saw what was coming now.

“This isn’t right… we’ve been up and down these docks for months. We finally found this place. We waited until we scouted security measures… Where did this guy come from? We never had any sign of--”

“Shut. Up.”

Isaac could see the signs of wear. She was cracking, and not because of his actions. She was professional towards that. She just couldn’t take anymore of her cohort.

“That’s alright. You won’t have to put up with him much longer.” Isaac thought to himself, as he unspooled the line.

The pair were halfway across the floor when he moved. He pulled the line taught and sprinted, sweeping the pair off their feet. A gun clattered loose to the concrete. The sound of the high speed winch as the line retracted and Isaac swept in, grabbed the girl and fired a line into the darkness of the rafters. Muffled sounds and then the heavy silence once more.

“SHIT! FUUUUUCK!” The man fired up into the rafters blindly.

Isaac felt confident he’d made the right move. Easy pickings.

But then it all turned south.

“Now what exactly do we have here my fine friend?” a completely unexpected jovial voice penetrated the darkness.

Isaac gasped. The complex wasn’t empty. Bystanders. He’d been treating the scenario as if it were 3 - 12 men, and himself in an abandoned factory. No chances of collateral damage. Just as he was about to resolve the situation an innocent bystander would come strolling through… and he had just left the least stable target for last.

The man sensed the shift in power and what was required of him. He called out into the darkness.

“HEY! You! Come out with your hands up!”

“Who-sir? Me? Absolutely I can do that for you!” the same jovial voice came from the darkness. As he stepped into the moonlight Isaac could see a big grin across the man’s face. Isaac pinched the mask off the bridge of his nose and tried to think of a safe way to change the rapidly deteriorating situation.

“And you!” The man called out to Isaac in the darkness. “Whoever you are! You’re going to come down into the light as well, wherever you are or I’m going to put one into this guy’s head!”

Isaac slumped down. Whatever he was going to do he’d have to do pretty quick, and he’d have to be a big bold target he’d see coming. He couldn’t have that gun pointed anywhere but at him.

“You! You’re going to get me into the safe!”

“No!” the man said, still smiling richly and not losing any of his cheerfulness. “No, I won’t be doing that.”

“Can’t… or won’t?” the man growled. Cocking the gun for effect.

“Oh! Absolutely ‘Won’t’!” said the man, not losing even the smallest trace of his cheerful disposition. “Even if I didn’t have the combination, there’s not a safe in the US Armed Forces holdings that I couldn’t crack. And I DO have the combination. After all, it's MY safe!” he exclaimed, wiggling his fingers to imply their remarkable dexterity.

Isaac came down the ladder from the rafters slowly, his mind still racing to find a way to ensure the man’s safety.

“Then what you’re telling me is that you’re no use to me…”

Isaac stepped off the ladder and saw the man’s smile widen even further. There was something he was missing here...

“Well, the First Principle is that you mustn’t fool yourself, and you are the easiest person to fool!” and laughed. And then he saw someone step from the shadows.

“NO!” Isaac called. The hothead fired.

But the jovial man who had been standing there just dissipated. As if he had never been standing there at all.

From the shadows stood two more of the same cheerful man who had just been there before. Then 5. Then 12. Then Isaac couldn’t rightly say how many.

One of the smiling men grabbed the hothead’s gun and smiled warmly. “I’d hate to die twice. It’s so boring!” They descended on the hothead with a steady flow of punches and kicks.

“Now what do we have over here?” the mass of smiling men called out, at once turning and addressing the Vigilante.

Wow. Creepy.

Isaac turned, unnerved by the sight and bumped into yet another smiling man.

He felt a force to the side of his head; a punch, then a kick from another direction. Never more than one at a time, but keeping a steady rhythm. They beat Isaac like a bongo drum. Isaac called out that he wasn’t with the others, he’d tried to stop them. But it was relentless and from all angles.

As he fell to the ground he caught one last glimpe back at the huge grey mass and the full name that he had caught some of the letters from before.



“Veeeeeery Int-er-es-ting!” Isaac heard from the jovial man as darkness seized him.

Indeed...

Fletch speeds away from the LHPD, the notes from the man she ‘questioned’ still fresh in her mind. Normally, with her kind of mind, she is able to remember everything someone would say, but the situation in which she had been in whilst getting the information would push that sort of information to one side and then everything done would have been for nothing. While things could have been called for the rest of this day, she needed to check something. So here she was, on her way to Chinatown to verify the man’s words. But first, she needed to remove the nitrile gloves that she wore. Thinking that she is at a safe distance from the precinct that the police wouldn’t think twice about a pair of nitrile gloves in a public trashcan. Pulling her motorbike up to the side of the road, she took off the nitrile gloves and dumped them into the trash can.

It was then she heard it: the sound of a building being demolished. It was faint, but the dust cloud that rose from the Chinatown direction was more than enough to attract her attention. What on earth is going on in Chinatown? she thought to herself, her eyes adjusting to the darkened sky. The more she looked, the larger the dust cloud seemed. It was then it hit her, seeing that there were two clouds forming in the Chinatown direction. What the… While the thought of checking the man’s story is a priority for her, this is definitely something that cannot be ignored. What if the Penose was the group that was behind it? Revving up the engine, the bike lurched forward and accelerated in the direction of the dust clouds.

As she drew closer to the disturbance that was occurring in Chinatown, she slowed the bike down. She had seen another dust cloud appear in the distance. What is going on here? she thought. While she knew there were people with special abilities, ‘metahumans’, in the city but them fighting in the city boundaries? For some strange reason, Kayla was compelled to go to where the danger was. She knew she that whatever was there, she had to be there in the case there were civilians in the area to protect. It was the least she could do for assaulting the police officer in the precinct. But as she drew closer, she decided to park her bike up a few blocks away from where the dust clouds were. The last thing she wants is causing the ruckus at the PD and then getting caught in gear on a bus journey all the way back after her bike is destroyed. Besides, this will give the grappling arrows the necessary trial run. Parking her bike up, she drew one of the arrows from her quiver and began traversing the rooftops to get to the area, hopefully undetected. What can possibly go wrong with this idea?

_{banner credit to Hellis}

---

Time: Present Day
Location: Ville D’Ys, Faerie Realms

Ville D’Ys, as a city expanded the walls and crevices of the vast underwater canyon deep beneath the waves in the Faerie Realms. Princess Lassantra’s illustrious family ruled over the city and territory for generations, having come close to losing the city less than a decade ago. Now, with renewed relations with other water fey territories and backed by the Earth Fey’s support, brokered by The Ambassador, the family’s rule rose to prominence once again. Crushing opposing nobility in their wake.

The city itself was bursting with life, all manner of water breathing Fey lived from the top of the cliffside down to the widened roads and stone buildings. The older dilapidated stonework was abandoned and in some areas reused then worked into newer architecture.

The water fey themselves resembled fish to some degree. They sported large bulbous eyes, scales, fins and webbing. Some moved to catch the colourful light emitted by the lichen moss, the water fey controlled the moss growth directing light where it was needed. The colours were muted in the environment but the locals made up for it well in their colourful scales, hair and skin.

Among Mandate’s limited talents, being a weight was perhaps her greatest, in her humble opinion. She was, after all, extremely talented in the art of being heavy. With a twist of that internal sense of weight, she could out-mass any living being that she could recall quite easily.

And so, it was with great joy that she embraced the role of anchor; with a step and a twist, she was 300 pounds heavier, rooting herself and her companions firmly in the world beneath the water, revealed by the wondrous glowing moss.

And what a world it was! Mandate had not expected the water to be empty, of course; she had the distinct impression that there was quite a lot of life hidden within the murky blue, not-quite-memories of glimmering scales and fluidic shoals. Rather, she had not expected it to be such a combination of vibrant and… Mandate tilted her head, and considered her choice of words. Dreary. It was not dead in colors, nor in liveliness, but it felt… Dark.

But that was silly, there was plenty of light from the moss! An interesting diversity of luminescence, glinting upon scales and flesh, and upon her own mercurial form. Maybe it was the darkness above, pressing down upon the light and stone, as if it would snuff out the long-lasting works at the first opportunity. Mandate was not afraid of the dark, nor of losing the breath she did not have, but it was an uneasy presence that marred a breathtaking -again, if she had breath to take- experience. Of all of the eerie features of this watery realm, from the statues to the looming cliffs and smothering darkness, it was the fey she minded the least.

”They’re wonderful, Miss Ambassador.” Mandate murmured into the water, though even she could not hear it properly; the sound was smothered. Regardless, it felt like a good choice of words. They inspired wonder, with their lurking dance in the gloom. Some were but shapes, beyond the range of the luminescence, but others were thrown into vivid detail by how their scales caught the light, and Mandate idly considered some of the strange things she saw.

She wondered, without malice, in what shapes the pretty things would break. The patterns of their destruction. Cracking, crumbling, fragmentation? Mandate diverted her stare before it could become impolite, and held onto her thoughts for later examination. She would ask Miss Ambassador!

More wonders awaited them further along, though they were only new to Mandate herself. The magic at work when they breached the water was but one of them, and Mandate spent a moment to peer curiously at the Ambassador as the water left her form as if it had never been there, whilst her own weight receded to its default. The marvelous architecture around them sent her imagination dancing in search of meaning, and her head flicked to and fro in a constant scan. More questions!

Perhaps the most mixed wonder at work was the one whom Miss Ambassador clearly seemed to know personally. It was mildly interesting, to see such casual shifting of shape in front of her very eyes, but Mandate approved of her clothing choices -or lack thereof. What did a stronger being need it for, anyway? A fellow demonstrator was always welcome.

And with the following demonstration of intimacy, Mandate’s approval was somewhat shaken, mostly by a twinge of confusion. Her head tilted as she observed the greeting, and reconsidered Princess Lassantara. More precisely, where she stood in Miss Ambassador’s wise eyes.

She must have been close indeed, to be greeted so warmly. Mandate’s sharply-tipped fingers twitched as she recalled the warmth of lips upon her own metallic face, gentle and almost unnoticeable in pressure. An offering of camaraderie and shelter, protection and understanding. It was a special feeling.

Observing the soft greeting and graced by sounds she could not interpret, Mandate was left to contemplate a somewhat familiar -and yet new- feeling. It escaped easy explanation. It was a desire for… Proximity? Yes. Mandate nodded to herself, hoping that she was not expressing approval to something that had been said. She wished to be close.

She hoped that she was close. Princess Lassantra was greeted in a similar manner to how she had been welcomed into Miss Ambassador’s care, and the manner in which they stood and behaved spoke of clear intimacy, so perhaps this was a good sign, as much as it muddled her emotions.

That reassured her, somewhat.

Soon enough, however, the moment had passed, and they were on the move again. As much as the golem wished to lag behind and observe every facet of this underwater world, the urging of Bach kept her moving at a fairly steady pace. Soon enough, Mandate was left to wait with even less for company; simply herself, her thoughts, and Bach. With how little she had interacted with Miss Ambassador’s other companion, it may as well have simply been herself and the ever-so-interesting walls. I should talk more with him. I’m sure he has interesting things to say as well!

Nonetheless, the mercurial golem remained quiet in her vigilance.

Bach leaned against the wall, his pipe tucked into the crook of his arm while he rooted for his herbs. He found them, various seeds spilling out of his pocket while he held a small dark green knot. He stuffed it into the pipe the best he could then pulled out a little booklet of matches from his jacket. Lighting it, he took long drags expelling a sweet smelling purple smoke around himself and in the hallway.

“Might be a while before we see them out of there. Oracles are notoriously vague. You’re probably bursting with questions, huh Mandate?” Bach began, the golem towered above him. His yellow green eyes tipped up to observe the singular red eye. “I can answer them the best I can.”

He puffed away on the pipe, always an educator at heart.

Mandate turned to observe Bach almost as soon as he had begun to root around, her eye unblinking as it all but burned into him with its gaze. It was not something that Mandate could particularly help; her gaze was intense by nature, and without a lid, it could not be reduced.

The offer of conversation was unexpected, but not unwelcome. She perked up, the neutral line of her mouth becoming its usual V of a smile. She tilted her head to and fro, considering her questions. What was first and most important? Humming softly, Mandate intertwined her fingers in front of her chest. ”If I crush one of our underwater friends with my hand, will they bleed and die?” she murmured curiously. It was important to know these things, she reasoned.

Bach paused mid way through a puff, processing the question. He slowly exhaled then replied, “We haven’t the chance to test your strength yet but…”

“They would most certainly bleed quite a bit then die a slow and painful death if you were to crush them, Mandate. The flesh of their bodies would slip away given enough time and as all Fey return to their original forms. Fey are born of magic, spirit and sometimes a little dust depending on who you ask. Water Fey would possibly dissolve back to the water where they spent the majority of their lives.” Clinically breaking down his thoughts, his tone chillingly casual as he spoke of death. He tapped the bottom of his pipe resettling the ashes of what he had already smoked.

“Haven’t personally observed a water fey die. Their autopsy reports are fascinating.” He noted. “Next question.”

Fascinating was a good word. Mandate’s fingers twitched as she visualized the process described, her niggling curiosity refusing to fade. Seemingly-normal flesh just dissolving away... I want to see it. Miss Ambassador would probably be upset with her if she indulged her curiosity, and the thought stilled the golem’s twitching fingers. Maybe she’ll let me, soon I hope! In the meantime, she rolled other questions around in her mind.

After a time, the golem nodded to herself and continued. ”What was Miss Ambassador saying, earlier? I didn’t say anything, but I could not understand.” She hoped her voice conveyed how much this disappointed her; she enjoyed Miss Ambassador’s speaking by itself, but she enjoyed understanding it even more. It let her roll the words around endlessly in her head, to be analyzed and admired, and the words often made her feel warmed.

“They were talking about what My Lady wanted from speaking with the oracle. They were speaking in Common Fey.” He said, then clarified, “The language most commonly known and used by Fey. You have heard us speak in Common Fey before, Mandate.”

Light shone beneath the door of the Oracle’s room and caught his attention briefly. There better be answers with that ridiculous light show.

His attention turned back to Mandate. “Fey speak many different dialects and languages. I have learned a fair few of them.”

He paused thinking of the exact amount and losing count almost immediately when he dipped into just the Earth Fey dialects and dead languages. He shook his head, leaves falling around his shoulders. “Too many to count.”

Mandate tilted her head, wondering upon his words. Her response came fairly quickly, joking and light in tone. ”I think I’m good with math, Mister Bach. I can help you, if you want.” In truth, his words were off-putting. If there was truly such a great diversity in fey language, then what was she to do? She desperately wanted to learn, but it sounded like more than she could handle in a reasonable amount of time. How would she know what her dear friend was saying, when it came up? Mandate immediately followed her small quip with a true question. ”Would you be okay with translating for me, Mister Bach?”

He drew on his pipe again and exhaled, chuckling a little. A little honesty would do well for Mandate, build some necessary boundaries. A notion he was sure Odette would not object to. “You and I have a lot of time on our hands. We may not know the logistics behind your creation Mandate, but you are built to last. Perhaps one day when we have time I can teach you Common Fey. Translation, however, is strictly up to My Lady. She has her reasons for not translating everything she says, often to save time and not to repeat herself.”

He looked to the golem again and noted her intense curiosity. He wondered idly what the other half of what the golem was thinking or feeling. Her genuine expressions ranging from the whole spectrum of emotions sometimes the change was subtle, but he (much like Odette) paid a great deal of attention to Mandate in her significant pauses. Bach could read a human’s expression easily enough, their past traumas or memories easier to read than a book. Mandate’s trauma resided in those moments of silence. Well out of earshot Bach and Odette would brainstorm numerous scenarios of how Mandate came to be.

Until the golem spoke openly of what happened, they only had their guesses and clues.

He had paused while he collected his thoughts, “Trust My Lady will tell you everything you need to know.”

He smiled, it was a well practiced one. No warmth could be seen behind them.

Immediately, Mandate nodded. ”Of course I trust Miss Ambassador!” Although it was impossible for the golem to smile any wider or brighter, her tone had noticeably shifted. It was bright and just as earnest as ever, her hands fiddling together as she focused upon Bach. It was easier than it had been at first, brushing over the mention of the methods behind her ‘birth’, but it still pulled at her thoughts. She would tell her dear and only friend when the young human needed to know, but…

But she didn’t. Mandate nodded decisively to her own firm thought, and diverted her attention momentarily to contemplate speaking in such strange and beautiful ways, ways that she could not understand. She could roughly interpret some of what she had heard in Miss Ambassador’s beautiful city, but every aspect of fey language was lost to her unearned past experience. It would be a new joy, without lingering familiarity.

Speaking of the fey… ”Mister Bach, when did Miss Ambassador meet her friend?”

Bach nodded, an easy smile. “I’m not sure My Lady would appreciate my sharing of full details but… I can tell you she has known her friend, Princess Lassantra for a long time. Very good friends-” The doors creaked open again swinging open outwardly.

Odette emerged out from the curtains of green, while Lassantra trailed behind her. Bach bowed a little, then spoke in English. “My Lady, Your Highness. I take the meeting was successful?”

Lassantra responded in English as well, a heavy accent. “Yes. We learned many new things. The three of you are staying for the evening.”

Bach lifted his brows a fraction then looked to Odette, she stared back. “Thank you for your hospitality, Your Highness. We are honour-”

Lassantra cut him off by walking past him while gently guiding Odette. “Yes, you may be honoured. Time for dinner.” She flashed her serrated teeth at Bach, a playful expression. Bach knew Lassantra disliked him, all he really could do about it was to tolerate her.

“Come, Mandate. You don’t eat… do you?” He asked, having never seen her eat a single thing.

Mandate’s gaze followed the princess as she moved past the golem’s spot along the wall, curiously examining her once more. If she was a very good friend of the Ambassador, then that meant that she had to be tolerated and understood, she concluded. She seemed almost nice.

Turning her head towards Mister Bach, then back towards the princess, Mandate spoke. ”I don’t, but I can pretend I do if you want double servings, Mister Bach!” she cheerfully failed to whisper as she followed dutifully after the Ambassador. She was always ready to help in the little ways, after all.

Besides, if Mister Bach didn’t want her servings, then she would simply have more to tear apart and look at in the meantime. The thought of examining fey foods put a metaphorical spring in her 500 pound step.

They followed behind the two women, Lassantra was happily chattering away to Odette in Common Fey. The Ambassador smiled pleasantly enough, the glances she shot at Bach were telling. She wanted nothing more than to slip away and discuss the details she learned with the Oracle. Odette glanced up at Mandate, smiling softly at the golem hoping to reassure her good behaviour.

They arrived to the massive dining hall, the long exquisite stone table adorned with glittering silverware, centerpieces overflowing with organic plant life and bursting with colour. Ambient light glowed from within the centerpieces, casting the colours further outward.

The Princess sat at the head of the table, The Ambassador sat to her immediate right while Bach was on the other side across from Odette. Odette gestured to Mandate to sit beside her. The plates were currently empty but a clap of Lassantra’s hands and busy wait staff appeared pouring water in polished stone goblets while preparing sweet wine in another glass for them all.

“Mandate, won’t you please sit with me?” She asked, sweetly.

”Of course, Miss Ambassador!” Mandate chirped with a tilt of her head, all too happy to comply. She was somewhat wary of her size getting in the Ambassador’s way, but managed to seat herself without too much trouble. Her eye seemed to have trouble finding a place to settle; one moment she would be focused intently upon her dear friend, and the next she would be all but boring a hole into the plant life from the centerpieces. Finally, she seemed to settle upon the silverware.

”Your home is lovely, Princess Lassantra.” she announced, distracted by the silverware she now delicately clutched in her hand to bring closer to her face. She had decided against breaking anything irreplaceable during the walk, and so did not attempt to bend them as she wished. Instead, she gently tapped them against the surface of her eye, then resumed her examination once she was apparently satisfied with the sound.

For the moment, the staff were ignored, and her questions were filed away. Perhaps she could fire one at the princess, if she kept being nice enough. The golem found it difficult to determine such a thing, when most of what she had initially heard from the fey had been in words she could not understand. It was a cause of consternation, but not insurmountable.

Lassantra settled her chin in her hands leaning on her elbows, mouth curled into a devilish smile at Mandate. The Ambassador remained neutral, casting her eyes over to Mandate as well.

The Princess acknowledged Mandate, “Thank you, golem. My home is lovelier still, nothing compared to our dear Ambassador.”

Odette supplied, “Her name is Mandate, Your Highness.”

Lassantra paused then asked, “Mandate of what?”

Mandate very carefully avoided crumbling the silverware in her fist. Instead, she set it back down upon the table, roughly attempting to return it to its original configuration before simply leaving the tools be. For lack of anything sufficiently sturdy, her hand beneath the table instead squeezed at the air.

Mandate of nothing. She did not voice the thought; it was an unintelligible thing, confusing without context that she was unwilling to provide. Nothing and no one.

Princess Lassantra did not deserve to know the entirety of her name.

Miss Ambassador did, and since she did not object, she presumably wanted it shared.

Leave the remnants. Embrace this self. What a strange thought. But enjoyable. Mandate’s mouth, which had firmly reversed its configuration into a frown, slowly melded back into its usual v of an expression.

It was more difficult to speak than it was to shatter bones and peel apart a girder. ”Oh, that’s just a part of a silly name, Princess Lassantra!” She spoke to the fey, but her gaze was focused upon Miss Ambassador. ”It’s very long, and I don’t like it, so Mandate is my name.”

Hesitation upon the threshold is weakness. An echo. ”Would you like to hear the silly name?”

“I most certainly would.” Odette said, intrigued for more clues. Her thoughts of the Oracle going on pause, momentarily. Noting again the subtle shift in Mandate’s demeanor. “If you wish to share it.”

Bach noted the shift as well. Lassantra however was oblivious.

Mandate straightened up in her seat, and clasped her hands together. Wear it with pride. Not an echo, that time, but a reminder to herself. It was no longer her name, she had chosen that for herself. There was no reason to shy away from something that no longer mattered. ”I couldn’t say the silly name myself, but it translates as,” she began, pausing to make a noise as if clearing her nonexistent throat, ”Indomitable Enforcer of the Divine Mandate!” she finished proudly.

Slowly, her hands released their pressure on one another. There was no pride in the ‘silly name’ itself, but in what it stood for; the fact that it no longer existed except in her mind, carved into her awareness. Like a reminder stapled to her very souls, which she had adamantly scribbled over with her own little name. Something smaller, simpler, truer to herself, but without forgetting herself. Something that was right.

“Strange. Very strange.” Lassantra replied, her little attention pulled away again.

Odette and Bach stared at Mandate then shared a glance together. “Thank you for sharing that, Mandate.”

Lassantra carried on, the food beginning to be served she leaned back in her seat resting her chin on the palm of her hand. “My Lady Ambassador picks up the strangest morsels. Tell me, are there are any tasty morsels in your life right now? Men, women, others…?” She glanced at Bach and the earth fey pulled his lip at her in response.

“I suppose not?”

Odette levelled a glare at Lassantra, the food served before her. Steaming, strange looking fish. Bach received a pile of berries, leaves and an assortment of salad. He began idly picking at the food watching the exchange.

Calmly she cut into the meat, “I feel like you hardly need the reminder, Princess. The reason why you and I don’t talk about my personal relationships.”

Lassantra grinned devilishly again, “Please remind me, remind us. I know how you love to share your private life.”

Odette all but bristled at that.

“If I may, I’d be more than happy to remind you.” She replied, the grip shifting on her knife. Her teeth chewing at the inside of her cheek.

Lassantra’s smiled wavered at that.

Mandate, who up until that moment had been mostly engrossed in her continued fiddling with the silverware, perked up as the Ambassador’s words registered. Things had gone somewhat silent, the princess no longer seemed very amused, but the golem was more intrigued by the idea of learning more about her dear friend.

“The last time we talked about boys was when you were in Paris.” She paused chewing through some fish. Sipping the water before continuing. “Thomas, I believe was his name. Another tasty morsel as you put it. We had a fight, I cried on your shoulder then mysteriously Thomas wound up at the bottom of the Seine. Drowned. Autopsy reports later reported his heart was ripped clean from his chest cavity. I was investigated, forced my hand to cover up the murder and promptly dealt with months of fall out.” She said glaring at Lassantra then her expression relaxed slipping back into neutral within a blink of an eye. “My apologies for being so frank, Princess. Please forgive me.”

Lassantra held her smile but snapped her fingers. The serving staff froze in their tracks. Odette straightened staring down Lassantra, the tension noticeably increasing. Bach in turn stared at Odette.

The playful veneer Lassantra exuded disappeared.

Lassantra’s hand shot out gripping Odette’s wrist like a vice, long dirty nails wrapped around. A low guttural hiss in her native tongue. Bach stood up with a clatter of the silverware. Odette remained still, not breaking eye contact with the Princess.

There was no hesitation on Mandate’s part. Even as distracted as she was by processing the Ambassador’s interesting little story, she had been more than capable of reading the rising tension in the room.

Lassantra’s hand latched onto the Ambassador, and anger sparked. Mandate did not fully register the act of standing, only that she had stood with enough force to rock her chair back, and her hands had somehow found themselves imbedded in the table from the force with which they had been slammed down. Her silverware and plate were both scattered with an echoing SLAM, the utensil which had been in her grip now a crumpled ruin.

The silver plates upon her head, her ‘mane’, bristled, sliding against one another with a low ring. Her singular eye did not leave the princess, a deep and unwavering orb of crimson.

She waited.

Lassantra’s pitch eyes scaled up at the looming golem, her hissing ceased immediately at the noise. The only sound now was Mandate’s bristling mane, tinkling on. Only then did Odette smile.

“Princess, my wrist please.”

Lassantra let go of the human, staring up at Mandate. She knew so little about golems, her instincts were going haywire with fear. The emotions flitted across her face.

“I believe dinner is over. Princess I do thank you for your help today, but may I give you another reminder?” The Ambassador asked, her tone icy.

Lassantra finally tore her eyes away then stared at Odette, nodding.

“Please remember who it is you owe your throne and city to.” She said cupping the Lassantra’s chin, running her thumb across the slick skin. Leaning close she whispered, “I expect your oracle to continue searching for more answers. I want you to give me detailed reports uncensored and complete. Do you understand?”

Lassantra snuck another glance at Mandate shivering, “Yes, My Lady.”

The tension stretched on, Bach occasionally looked between the three watching for more signs of trouble.

When she was satisfied Odette released Lassantra and then stood from her chair. Finally looking up at Mandate, “You can relax now Mandate, I am safe.”

It took a few moments for Mandate to comply. She was… Angry in a way she had not felt in awhile. It was not the monstrous mixture of sensations that was her birth moment, but it prickled at her. It tightened her fists involuntarily- or perhaps made the action entirely voluntary in her short-sighted wrath- and built a scream, ready to be unleashed in righteous anger.

But comply she did. Miss Ambassador is safe. Slowly, she extracted her fists from the table, uncurling them to allow the shattered silverware to fall to into the hole. The clattering was almost deafening in the silence, and Mandate took a moment to appreciate the fact that her fists were as unmarred as ever. Should I apologize for breaking her things? The spark returned. No.

”Yes, Miss Ambassador. Are you okay?” The golem peered down at her self-appointed charge, concern lacing her tone as her eye finally left the shaken princess, dismissing her as a threat. She would be broken if the Ambassador was hurt, but she was not a present threat.

Odette lifted her wrist, red marks where Lassantra’s fingers were. She tsked, “Marked, but unharmed. Mandate, do you understand what happened here?”

She gestured to the Princess to emphasize her meaning, “Between the Princess and I?”

Mandate’s mane had just begun to bristle again when the question caught her, the building fire guttering out as she tilted her head. What happened? She did not reply immediately, determined to wrap her mind around the question and answer appropriately. An internal debate raged, and so many of the answers sounded correct. The progression of events was laid out cleanly. A request, an answer, an altercation. A near-altercation she corrected herself, then paused. Yes, it had stopped. The princess had been scared from doing something stupid.

A dusty corner of her Self answered the rest of herself, an intermixing of several trains of thought. Control? Mandate straightened up after a firmer moment of thought, and answered.

”Lassantra was angry. She was going to do something, but she didn’t. She stopped.” Mandate’s head tilted to the other side for a moment, before she nodded. It felt right. ”She was scared. Because you’re in control, Miss Ambassador?” Her contemplative tone had shifted at the end, becoming something eager. She desperately hoped that she was correct, and had earned approval.

All the while, the thought roiled in her mind. Is Miss Ambassador a queen? She scares princesses in their castles. She must be; she owns a city.

“Excellent, Mandate. Well done, there is a little more to it. The game the Princess tried to play since our arrival.” She smiled up at Mandate, then she turned back to the Princess. “Entering my personal space without my permission. Dismissing you with little acknowledgment-”

Lassantra began to protest then Odette cupped her chin again squeezing her cheeks, “My companion, therein an extension of insulting her Guest.” Odette continued without pause. “Provoking me, pushing my patience with more probing questions. Princess Lassantra attempted to keep this dinner off balance by asserting herself, asserting a control she knew she never had. Even among allies, one can never be comfortable.”

Colour touched in the water fey’s cheeks, humiliation washing over her.

“I was prepared to simply weather the previous slights and continue the game. Lassantra made the first move by losing her temper. She lost.”

Letting go she turned her attention back to Mandate, “As you put it simply, Princess Lassantra is scared because I am in control. Her attempt wasn’t terribly subtle but an attempt nonetheless to regain some control. Does that make sense, Mandate?”

She laughed a little into her hand, hiding her smile, “Politics, it is all so silly.”

The Ambassador’s laughter provoked a giggle from Mandate, her hands brushing together to remove the last clinging bits of the table from them. Her earlier rage -bordering on a murderous wrath- had boiled away as if it was never there, replaced by the soothing voice of her human friend. Her stare flicked from her hands to Lassantra, then back to the Ambassador.

”It’s very silly, Miss Ambassador. She should always be scared; you’re a queen, right? You own a city too, after all!” Mandate’s voice bordered on a chirp, as pleased as she was by the opportunity to share her thought process. It struck her as perfectly logical, and she did not care to speak to Lassantra at the moment.

Odette giggled again at Mandate’s comment.

Lassantra’s blush deepened.

“No, Mandate. I am an Ambassador. Queens and princesses, much like everyone, bend to someone. Bach, Mandate it is time to go home. We have another ‘Queen’ to tackle together.”

I’m good at tackling. Mandate did not say. She was fairly certain Miss Ambassador did not mean that form of tackling. Although if she did, the golem was certain that she would be the best at it; she had several advantages over most things when it came to matters of tackling.

Shaking her head to remove the idle urge to tackle Lassantra, the golem turned her attention back to her friend. ”Of course, Miss Ambassador! Will we walk again?” she queried, tilting her head. It had been fun, to see the depths, but Lassantra seemed upset at the moment. Maybe it would be best to take another path? Her thoughts roiled for a moment, echoing with impressions of ambushes and terror, before they ended decisively. The Princess knows better. It was Miss Ambassador’s decision anyway.

“A portal. It was courtesy that we approached the way we did, portaling into someone’s dining room is inappropriate. Especially of someone with such high esteem as the Princess.” Another look at Lassantra, the Princess shifted her eyes to the ground. “Until your next report, Princess.”

Much like many other malls across America, Olympia’s Downeast Mall had seen better days. In the age of online commerce, Downeast Mall had seen a significant drop off in visitors; however, the mall was planning on changing all of that over the weekend. They had been promoting a huge “Spring Into Summer” sale throughout the mall in an attempt to lure the masses back to the stores. For the most part, the sales extravaganza had been a major success; the mall had more visitors on this day than they had seen in the previous month.

However, record crowds were not the only thing drawn to the mall. Several hundred feet in the air, an ominous figure hovered above the Downeast Mall. The Hybrid looked down at the people scurrying in and out of the mall with disdain. He found it funny that all it took was the promise of savings on worthless garbage to bring out the hordes en masse. To the Hybrid, it was all pointless, and he looked forward to showing the entire world just how pointless it all was.

But now, he waited. However, he did not have to wait for long. In the distance, he could make out the silhouette of a lone, caped figure flying toward him in the distance. The Hybrid grinned as the familiar blue and silver clad figure of the hero known the world over as Icon raced toward him.

“Took you long enough.” The Hybrid said gleefully as the hero drew nearer.

As Icon approached The Hybrid, he was determined to stop him before he could cause anymore damage. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the deranged madman was simply toying with him. As he got closer to The Hybrid, he increased his speed and braced for impact with the killer. However, much to Icon’s surprise, Hybrid’s right arm began to change. It stretched and lengthened, and it looked more like the tentacle of an octopus rather than an arm. Before Icon could react, the tentacle had wrapped itself around his neck. The Hybrid had grabbed a hold of Icon, and with one swift and decisive movement, slammed the hero down to the rooftop of the Downeast Mall.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” The madman asked. “You just can’t win.”

“You’re wrong, Hybrid. I’m going to stop you, right now.”

“You’re going to stop me? Why is that? Because of them?” The Hybrid said as he pointed down, indicating that he meant the people in the mall.

“I won’t let you hurt anyone else.”
“And that’s your problem, Icon. You dedicate yourself to protecting these monsters, you’d give your life for them.”

“If I had to.”

“And that is why you can’t win, because you’re fighting for the wrong team. You see, the belief that people are inherently good is nothing more than a fallacy…a nice little fairy tale that people tell themselves to make them feel better about all the horrendous shit that they do on a daily basis. Oh, I assure you, people are evil.” Hybrid paused as he waved his hand over his face.

“Society is just a façade, and when you peel away the veneer, you find that it is just hiding the fact that people are nothing more than greedy, selfish, destructive animals.” The Hybrid told him.

“You’re wrong, Hybrid. You-” Icon was cut off.

“You’re very existence is proof of that. If what I say isn’t true, there wouldn’t be an Icon. The sad fact of life is this: You can kill me. You can send me away forever…lock me up and throw away the key! But rest assured, there will be others just like me. Someone else will step in to take my place.” The Hybrid took several steps toward Icon.

“So what you’re doing is nothing more than an exercise in futility. And I’m going to ask you something that you’re eventually going to ask yourself anyway…” Hybrid said with a smile.

“Is it really worth it?”

“Why don’t I just show you.” Icon said, a statement more than a question as he lifted several inches off of the ground and rocketed toward The Hybrid.

Icon lowered his head and rammed his shoulder into The Hybrid’s midsection and drove him upward and away from the mall. The madman struggled, elbowing Icon in the back of the neck and head, however, the hero did not loosen his grip as he went skyward with the maniac. Icon took the madman up several thousand feet into the air and suddenly stopped and hurled him even higher. Then, he rocketed himself upward and hit The Hybrid with a hard right cross. As Icon moved in for another attack, The Hybrid reached out with his elongated, tentacle like arm and wrapped it around Icon’s neck.

“This is why you can’t win.” He said as he spit blood out of his mouth. “You fight scared. You aren’t willing to take that extra step…you refuse to do what you have to do. And that’s why ultimately, you lose.” He finished.

With Icon still firmly in his grasp, The Hybrid began to take on a reddish glow. Icon struggled to get free of the madman’s grip, however, before he was able to get away the maniac unleashed a blast of pure energy that reverberated through Icon’s body. The blast was so intense that the stunned hero blacked out momentarily as The Hybrid pulled the hero upward before launching him downward. By the time Icon regained his composure, it was too late. He hit the ground with such an impact that he shattered the concrete where he landed, creating a man sized impact crater in the middle of the roadway.

While Icon lay in the shattered road trying to regain his bearings, The Hybrid hovered in the sky over the mall. His body again began to take on a reddish glow. At first it was faint and barely noticeable, but as each second passed, the glow grew brighter, until he glowed so bright that he looked almost like a small red sun hanging low in the sky.

Then he began to fall.

Icon looked on in horror as The Hybrid plummeted toward the packed Downeast Mall. He struggled to get to his feet; however, the madman’s violent attack had left him unable to move. All he could do was watch as The Hybrid crashed down through the roof of the packed mall, and for an instant, there was nothing. Icon felt a wave of relief wash over him.

Then, suddenly the momentary silence was shattered by what sounded like a thousand bombs exploding all at once. Flames exploded from the numerous windows that encased the mall, which were designed to give the patrons a panoramic view of the city no matter where they were inside the common areas of the mall. Then the entire area shook as a violent explosion leveled the entire mall. The Downeast mall was gone, and in its place was a smoldering crater.

“No.” Icon said weakly as he forced himself to his feet. He staggered as he stepped forward, a new rage building inside of him.

All those people… Icon thought to himself as he awkwardly stepped toward the burning ruins of the mall.

Then he heard something coming from within the inferno. Something that left the hero unsettled…a maniacal laughter. He focused in on the sound, and saw a lone figure walking through the flames toward him.

The Hybrid.

The rage that Icon had felt festering within him began to boil over at the sight of the murderer. Icon blamed himself for the blood that had been shed here today, because it turned out that The Hybrid had been right. Icon had been holding back, not wanting to go all in when confronting the maniac out of fear that if he didn’t hold back he would kill the monster.

His hesitation had just cost over three thousand people their lives. He would not make that mistake again, not with this murdering psychopath.

Icon let out a primal scream as he launched himself at The Hybrid, pounding the maniac with a barrage of fists and elbows. For the first time in his life, he was not holding back. He gave The Hybrid everything he had. He landed a hard right hand to The Hybrid’s jaw, the impacted folded the villain’s knees, and he began to crumple to the ground. Icon grabbed him by the neck and pulled him back up, hitting him again with several hard punches before tossing him aside, sending The Hybrid crashing through the side of a parked bus, and out of the other side. Icon did not relent, he was on the maniac again before he had rolled to a stop, scooping him up and throwing another wild haymaker which sent The Hybrid crashing into the wall of a nearby building, the impact causing cracks to form in the wall.

Icon continued to pound on the maniac until he stopped resisting. Finally, Icon took a step back, and The Hybrid fell lifelessly to the ground.

“Thanks for the assist Icon, but we’ll take it from here.” A voice said from behind him.

Icon had been so consumed by rage that he had been completely unaware of a convoy of black SUV’s rolling into the area around the mall. Among the vehicles, Icon recognized a STRIKE containment vehicle. He turned toward the source of the voice, and saw Agent Marcus Ryder, a STRIKE agent that Icon had always had a contentious relationship with. Icon did not like the man, and he did not trust the organization that he worked for. However, in this instance, he was almost glad to see the man.

“Late to the party, Ryder. As usual.” Icon said to the man as a number of agents rushed toward The Hybrid and fitted him with super high tensile restraints. “One of yours?” Icon asked as he left the agent and his men to secure the murderous madman, while he went into the inferno in a desperate attempt to find any survivors of the blast, a task that he knew was most likely a futile one.

Struggling to his feet, Skyler stumbled forward in a breathless and desperate attempt to escape the scene. Clawing at the grass, the boy pulled himself up and took one step after another, black flames swirling around him as he attempted the grand escape. Clenching his teeth, Skyler managed to develop his stride into a full sprint, bolting away from the museum and catching more than one glance as he did, though cared little for whom gazed back at him.

Nearly falling over several times along the path, the boy kept running with an infernally induced adrenaline. He could not compare this feeling of helplessness to anything he has felt before, not at all. Nothing even came close. In fact, this was all a mixture of fight and flight. Part of him wanted to spin around and blanket that scene in hellfire, a sense of anger filling him to the brink. Luckily however, the boy managed to cling to his humanity for long enough to escape.

Eventually falling to his knees upon a concrete floor, far away from the museum's bounds, the pain echoing through his kneecaps all but faded in the breathless anxiety which had come to overtake every inch of Skyler's consciousness. Finding himself below a stone bridge, further away than he would have expected, the boy noticed how his flames were starting to die out. Leaving that scene, leaving the danger and the chaos behind had doused his fires as if that was what fueled them. With a heavy, exhausted breath, Skyler leaned against the moss covered stone wall and slid down to the floor. This was remote, it was good. How long had he been running? The rapidly beating heart in his chest was nothing to go by as it had been pounding against his ribs like a jackhammer ever since the museum. A reasonable estimate was however north of five minutes. He had been running for five minutes straight. Yes, that explained how he almost felt ready to barf the small amount of food he had managed to digest.

"Seeing you like this is...disheartening." A voice came, stealing Skyler's attention like an ember in the dark. Soothing, much like that of a mother's caress, the voice reached him with a soft tune as a woman made her presence known. Her voice would however fade in the shadow of her appearance. She looked like Skyler himself, her gray skin and tail easily visible beneath the shadows of the bridge. Her clothes appeared to be that of nobility, no, royalty. Black with gold embroidered linings, her attire belonged within the confines of a heavily guarded castle, not in front of a broken boy who had found himself below a bridge.

Without another word, the woman lowered herself to a knee in front of him and placed her hand along the boy's shoulder. In reaction to her touch, his flames died out entirely, and instantly. With wide eyes Skyler gazed upon her, unable to utter even a word as he met her warming smile. "We've been looking for you for a very long time. Come, it is time to go home."

As if enchanted by her visage, Skyler's broken spirit could not hope to resist her, but even so, she continued to speak. "Everything will become clear, you have my word. We Efreet stick together, and you have been by yourself for long enough." Before the woman could continue, a familiar bark greeted the two as Mushroom had made his way to Skyler who could only manage a soft, tired smile in response, his hand making its way towards the dog's gentle fur. "Who am I to separate a boy from his companion?" The woman continued with a chuckle. "Now then, let us be off." Conjuring a swirl of white, rather than black flames, the woman engulfed the three in its embrace and left nothing behind as the female Efreet shifted then from their location, taking them far away.

The sun started to rise on the planes of Arkansas. The yellow glow of the sun revealed the dying grasses of what was once the lowlands of the Natural State. From the planes, Pine Bluff looks like a ruined city, each of the buildings weathered from the destruction of an event a long time ago. The roads throughout the city were cracked with gigantic fissures, the troughs of the ground gathering the dust and dry dirt from the planes as the constant, strong northwesterly winds. Very few creatures could be seen on the streets, even though the light started to brighten up the buildings around. Somewhere in the center of the city, there was some activity within the ruined structures. Inside was one of the few settlements in the country, hidden away in the nuclear bunkers that were built at some point before the Cataclysm occurred. The settlement, known only as Pine Bluff Settlement 149, was the largest in the city and had been fortified to prevent the nightmares that roamed the ruined world.

Inside Settlement 149, people were rushing across the bunker as the beginning of the day occurred. The dwellers of the settlement each had a job to do. Some went into the heart of the bunker to work on drawing the groundwater in order for everyone to have their own rations for the day as water was scarce. Some wander out through the thick, steel doors to tend to the hardy sorghum crops that would grow in this world. Some other were either with the farmers or at the main entranceway with improvised, bladed weapons that were forged from the bunker. Then, there were a few men at the heart of the bunker, keeping the power levels at sustainable levels to make sure everything works like clockwork. The latter job was especially important as if the power were to go out and the creatures on the outside world attacked, the dwellers would be wiped due to the creature’s superiority in the dark. But the dwellers had one weapon that the creatures didn’t have full knowledge over. And that weapon was inside the power room.

At the heart of the power room, two men were talking. One of the men were scrawny, disheveled glasses crossing his face as he was typing onto the console with dirtied, torn brown fingerless gloves. The heat of the room meant that his sweat was saturating the engineer clothes he had on: a white t-shirt in denim overalls and a brown engineer’s coat over it. The other man, apart from the sweat following the creases of the burnt half of his face, looked on sternly at the computer screen. The brown jacket hid the grey armour underneath, but the jeans shown to be dirty from the numerous journeys in the outside world. “… in summary, we are still short on power to run the machine,” the engineer summarized, turning away from the screen to look at the other man for the response.

”That’ll just mean that I’ll need to head out again and get a bigger power supply,” the man responded, shrugging at the problem. His eyes, one dark blue and one milky white, turned to look at the man he was discussing the project with. ”It’s not like that I have done the journey before. Already been to the nearby town’s hardware stores to…”

“You’re not getting the point!” The engineer retorted, prompt with the response. “In order to get the power needed to even get the machine on, let alone to achieve a stable space-time wormhole, we need a nuclear power supply. And the only place close enough to get some sort of nuclear supplies is Nuclear One. That’s a day’s journey getting there alone, nevermind looking for the necessary materials and getting back. We don’t have enough fuel to getting you there and back. It’s going to be too much to organize logistically, even with the Officer’s approval. I’m sorry.”

The man sighs. ”Well, I’ll work things, out one way or another. The Officer doesn’t rule over my comings and goings. As for the fuel, I will improvise something when it comes to it.”

“Even if the Officer does not rule over what you do, he does have control over the fuel and the vehicles that Settlement 149 owns. I think he wouldn’t allow one of the vehicles to go do something that might end up being a dead end when the vehicle could be used for something immediate. I’m sorry, but it looks like we will have to stop this dream plan here permanently.”

The other man frowned. The news certainly didn’t sit with him at all. Without saying a word, he turned and walked towards the exit of the power station. As he headed out, his left hand curled into a fist and punched metal tank, denting the inch-thick plating. The engineer looked on as the man left, concern over his face. “Don’t do anything rash, my son.”
---------
A few hours later, outside the staging area where the vehicles were housed for security. The building, an old warehouse with large sliding metal doors, had plenty of dwellers in the area armed to the teeth with the bladed weapons and the few ranged weapons, the majority of the firearms broken by the creatures and mutants that roam the planes to make sure they were the dominant species in the world. The vehicles consisted of mainly restored vehicles from the streets with parts recovered from the various auto shops in the city, but there were a few military vehicles obtained from the arsenal base that was located near the city. With the military vehicles, there were a couple of canisters of white phosphorous obtained, though there were plans to obtain more in the case that the chemicals worked on the mutants. There were also numerous motorbikes that were used for scouting vehicles for future missions. For the man with the burns on his face, this was the type of vehicle that he would need.

He climbed through the windows of the warehouse, landing on the metal shelves that were inside that held the various auto parts. Checking the see of the coast was clear, he dropped to the ground and began his search for keys and fuel. With the various journeys he had taken for Settlement 149, the keys were easy to obtain, though breaking the lock of the storage box would be easily discovered. But hopefully by then, he would be long gone. As for the fuel, he waited behind more shelves as there were two workers at the station. They were taking an age to leave the fueling station and the man needed to leave in order to arrive at the nuclear power station with daylight. ”Sorry guys,” he muttered, turning around the corner. And then he vanished into thin air, only to reappear next to the two men. ”I’m on a tight schedule.” Grabbing both of the men, he rammed both of them together with his abnormal strength, both men collapsing into a heap shortly after their heads collided. Grabbing a fuel can, he reached his chosen motorbike, a Harley Davidson Low Rider, and began fueling it. By now, alarms would have been raised as there is usually short shifts between everyone in the warehouse to keep fresh eyes on each of the vehicle components. He jumped on the bike and started the engine, but a cutting voice reached his ears.

“Stop what you are doing there, Mutant.”

The man known as Mutant looked up to see a line of armed men, guns pointing in his direction. In the middle of the group was a sharply dressed man. The man had greasy hair, all slicked back. His glasses look neatly in line with his ears, the brown irises looking coldly at the man on the bike. The military blue uniform, taken from the military base where the military vehicles and the chemicals came from, were neatly pressed and the black shoes shining in the light in the warehouse. “You can get off the bike and come with me to my office. You have a lot of explaining to do. The assault on your fellow dwellers, the unauthorized use of my vehicles, the reasons behind it all. All will be…”

”Oh cut your shit out, you dumb fuck,” the Mutant snapped back. ”Everyone here knows that there is no friendliness between ‘The Officer’ and ‘The Wanderer’. They also know that you sure as hell do not have control over me. The Commander made sure of that before he passed away.” The other men on the line started to have a hesitant body posture at the mention of The Commander, who founded the settlement and made it the way it was before he passed away a few weeks ago. While the man on the bike remained poised, The Officer’s hands visibly clenched in anger. ”So no, I am not going into your office and explain my actions. And everyone knows not to try to attack me. While I do not want any ill to occur to Settlement 149, everyone knows that I am capable of. The results will lead the mutants to this settlement and no one would be able to stop them. So let me ask you this once: get out of my way and let me do what needs to be done.”

“How… DARE you… Talk to me like that, Mutant!” The Officer spat, venom laced in his voice. “While the Commander did give you immunity for any persecution under his regime, you do not have that immunity under mine. The only thing that The Commander guaranteed is that I would never be able to exile you from the settlement, but I sure as hell can punish you as I see fit. Especially if you do not come to my office quietly and give me a damn good reason for everything that has occurred today. So let me ask you again: Turn off that bike and come with us quietly. There is no…”

”I do not have time for this,” The Wanderer said, the flames flickering in his eyes. He raised his right hand towards the line of men. Slowly, purple flames started emanating at first from his hands, then covering his entire forearms. However, the flames did not burn the fabric at all but was a show of the psionic powers that the man was capable of. ”I can assure you, my threat is real. The mutants in the city will be alerted to my oncoming attack and you will be long dead before Settlement 149 gets destroyed and everyone here are able to fire a single shot from those firearms. You are truly testing my patience and are ruining the schedule I have in mind. So I will repeat this one more time: Get the fuck out of my way or I will destroy this entire building.”

The Officer gritted his teeth with anger, almost ready to give the command to fire on The Wanderer. However, the purple flames’ light on the Mutant’s arms growing in intensity was halting the possible idea. After a couple of intense minutes, the person in charge of Settlement 149 groaned. “Stand down and open the bloody doors!” As the line disappeared and obeyed the commands, The Officer glowered as The Wanderer moved the motorbike towards the door. As soon as the doors were opened, the man sped off, disappearing from street view. Lashing out by kicking at the metal steps, The Officer turned to the men still in the warehouse. “Gear up and follow that bastard! I don’t want him returning to this place at all! Leave no trace of his existence and return my bike!”

The Witch was in terror, as Barron grinned on; enjoying his little display. ”Setbacks, what kind? Everything is the Tops for me, found Young Benjamin earlier than planned and even got some blood from him. Suffice to say you’re not getting rid of me for a while Kiddos. Even if I take my leave for now. I have business with the boy, indirectly of course as I have beef with the Wolf who turned him; he’ll be back to claim the boy as that wolf girl can attest to, speaking of. Have you had that conversation yet? What becomes of a Pup after the Alpha returns.”

As Barron gloated a bit, knowing that those before him were underpowered compared to his own abilities, he took a pause. And for once began to thoroughly examine the situation. He in his arrogance had indeed let this situation flow out of control, as the young fire demon of sorts whatever he may truly be had begun displaying a level of desperation and bravado akin to youths in times of stress, although Barron did scoff at his potential to burn him via an artificial sun, but before he could remark the boy was engulfed with black fire while he rushed outside. ”Well that happened. Guess whatever he was, had more pent up stress than even Golden Boy over here. Still. If you wanna follow after him Wolf Boy, we’re gonna need to subdue the beast. Course I also don’t really need to either, your Wolfing out isn’t wholly my concern nor is any attention you’d draw. All on you though I leave and he’s still a wolf, or I alongside the Witch’s power help rein in the beast using my blood manipulation magics and we can suppress his transformation. That’s up to you Kiddos to decide either way not any of my business.”

Rune had a problem. It was called alcohol. From being bounced off the gates of northern fairyland, to having a magic killing, evil artifact in his flat, to his sister now refusing to answer his calls until he “Didn’t reek of booze.” he was so deep in the glass the bottom had a eviction order. Somewhere, a Demon older than mankind itself was sitting on the magic equivalent to a nuclear bomb. But he had an inkling something else was going on. Otto sat next to him at the bar, staring at his own glass. He wasn’t drunk however, just contemplative.

“You know.” Otto spoke up, He was in his human form. Even so he was a hulking beast of a man.

“Yeah?” Rune sweeped the last of the beer and made a grimace. Americans were terrible at macro beer.

“We need more allies.” Otto said matter of fact.

“No shit fluffy.” Rune snapped, ordering another beer. It may be shitty, but it was cheap.

“...What did you call me?” Otto pivoted to stare at his compatriot, none to please.

“Fluffy. You turn into a giant glorified dog.” Rune said dismissively.

“Wolf” All but bristled as he corrected Rune. Rune was unphased.

“Angry feral German Shepherd crossed with a one of those asian, fluffy dogs.”

“That cuts deep my friend” Otto muttered.

“Yeah well. I am drunk.”

“So you are. By choice, it does not exempt your other, terrible choices.”

“So what is this about allies. We got you, me, a girl barely out of her teens with a magic sword and some sort of alien t-rex… Who else?”

“That’s about it, really.” Otto said as both men stared at their glasses, a look of defeat on both men.

“Yeah, we need allies alright. Any idea where we can conscript anyone?” Rune pushed his glass away.

“Actually..We could ask the Agency. Even if you aren’t registered.” Otto began but Rune all but spat when he broke that line of thinking down in the most eloquent of ways.

“Forget the Agency. Bunch of pampered pencil peckered paper pushing ponsies.” He said the last part with such vigor and spite you could practically taste his disgust.

“And armed agents with guns and shit.” Otto argued.

“Unless they all pack witch killers, we leave them out of this.” Rune shot back, he did not want to involve the goverment. America was run by idiots he had decided long ago. And all his encounters with the agency only cemented that belief.

“Fine. You burned bridges with half the local community ages ago Rune, and the other half are all registered. Our best shot is finding someone to new and doe eyed enough not to realize what a rotten creature you are.” Otto looked up, something dawning on him, Rune could tell. He began to ponder some idea, and by the look of it he needed a little prodding

“...Got a name for me or are you just sweet talking me?” Rune inquired.

“Benjamin. A newfangled Werewolf. I heard there was some unusual spikes on the night of The Soulstones creation. A lot of hurried transformations, awakenings and similar things.” Otto said with a grimace.

“Yeah, well, that is why I don’t fuck with Leylines. So this werewolf, is he the European breed, you know, the weak to silver, capable of shredding a car kind?” Rune raised a eyebrow. He had not dealt with a European Werewolf in ages.

“Better, he is the American breed.”[/color] Otto said as he swept the last of his drink. Runes eyes opened a little wider, a smile on his lips. This was good news.

“...Aren’t they capable of sniffing out magic?” He asked, now feeling the first spark of excitement.

“Mhm.” Otto grinned.

“Well shit.” Rune closed his eyes and and concentrated. Suddenly a flare of magic burned all the alcohol out of his body and his eyes and mind cleared as the rush of pure power out muscled any old beer he might be fond of swiveling. “Let’s go talk to this Ben fellow”

“I can’t believe that we wasted all that time trying to beat that stupid plumber and all we had to do was poke him twice!” Gajana complained while Odysseus, Talus, and he were finally entering into city hall.

“Well, considering all its takes is a Goomba running into him in the video games, I guess we shouldn’t be too surprised.” Talus answered his teammate.

The first room that they approached was the ground floor lobby. The entire premise seemed deserted because of the mischief that the Game Genie was cause across the city. A few feet away from the entrance doors was a reception desk. While no one was manning the desk at the moment, the computer was still running. Although the computer was password protected, this little obstacle would not hinder Talus. After pulling out a USB cable from his metallic arm and connecting himself to the computer, Talus easily broke through the password that locked the computer.

“So, whatcha doing?” Gajana asked as he leaned over the service desk.

“Shhh!” Talus raised his finger up to his mechanical lips. “One wrong calculation and this entire building will go!”

Talus only received blank stares from Odysseus and Gajana. “Oh, I’m just pulling your legs.” He finally admitted to them. “I’m just checking what this Game Genie is up to. Looks like he’s digitally storing people inside a database of some sort. We better find a way to free them because one blackout might erase thousands of people from existence.”

His allies still gave Talus blank stares even after he tried to clear things up. “Come on, guys! I didn’t even use any complex terminology this time!”

Then suddenly, a pillar of light appeared several yards away from where the three heroes were standing. And in this light, what looked like a young boy with wings descended to the floor. He held a bow in his hands.

“I got this.” Odysseus said as he approached the newcomer. “You keep doing, well, whatever you’re doing.”

“Lady Palutena! Who is that?” The boy cried aloud, when he saw Odysseus approach towards him.

“That is Odysseus, Pit.” A heavenly voice said from above that boomed through the building. “He is supposedly the legendary Ithacan king reincarnated.”

“Well, I better be on my game!” Pit called out to the disembodied voice. He took his bow and pulled back on its bowstring. At that moment, an arrow made out of pure light formed on his bow. He then launched it at Odysseus. Although Odysseus dodged out of the way, the arrow uncannily swerved off its course. As a result, it slammed into the man’s stomach, sending him flying backwards, although Gajana was there to catch him.

“Oh, Pit, I forgot to mention that it is rumored that he still has the armor of the hero Achilles.”

“That would have been good to have known a few moments ago!”

---

Alright. I know that I might have already mentioned this, but things are really getting crazy around here. I saw a a green robot blowing up television screens down the street. Pacman was chasing some ghosts a few blocks away. And there was even a small, purple dragon on the loose. But what takes the cake is this talking racoon (thank goodness he isn’t the trigger happy variety) kept on pestering me about buying some small house. I mean, where does this even happen?

“Now miss, just for one small payment of 19,800 bells, you can have a nice, cozy home of your own!” The bipedal racoon told me again. I have already lost track of how many times he had asked that same question.

“I’ve already told you. I’m not looking for any stupid house!”

“If you don’t have all the money right now, you can always pay for the house in smaller payments. Plus, I could find some odd jobs for you to do to make up for the lack of funds.” The racoon offered. He obviously was not taking no as an answer.

“No! That’s not it. I just…ugh! Why am I even having an argument with a stupid racoon!”

“I’m a very successful businessman, if I do say so myself.”

While this well-dress racoon kept harassing me about the house, one of those cubes snuck up on me. Even with my enhanced reflexes, I couldn’t dodge the red laser that the cube fired at me. One moment, I was standing next to that racoon. The next, I found myself surrounded in pitch black with green zeroes and ones swirling around me.

“Well, this is great.”

As Skyler talked, Ben’s ears perked and confusion swept across his expression. On the most basic and vague sense, he understood the emotions that the young Efreet was trying to get through to him. Sadly the cause eluded the wolf within. Ben’s ears pressed harder against his head and his paws took a step to Skyler, the heat of the hellfire brushed against his fur causing it to ruffle. The crackling sounds filled his ears as he drew close enough for the flames to start to singe him, the blonde fur darkened then blacken to leave patches of cooked flesh. Immense pain washed over his attention and immediately he yelped, the wolf retreated a bit from the intensity.

Suffering and turmoil wafted off the boy engulf in black flames spreading across his body, the clothes greying then drifting off like fallen ashes. His form was nearly naked from the intense heat that drifted along his arm and spread wildly over the blood wall’s surface. The liquid promptly started to evaporate thanks to the extreme heat causing the wall to gradually vanish, leaving a wide enough hole for the prisoners to slip through.

In moments the unnatural fire consume any blood used, leaving scorch marks in its place. Despite this, Ben’s vision never left the young Efreet and instead drew closer.

Suddenly the boy bolted toward the nearest door, an exit locked and set with an alarm. The moment his hands made contact, the chains melted in a white flash of heat causing nearly everyone to turn away in surprise. In moments Skyler was gone leaving the group to fend for themselves with the Elder Vampire.

A strong desire to follow Skyler warred with the need to defend the pack, the wolf within Ben struggling over which to choose. Meanwhile the alarm from the door blared into the building hurting his sensitive ears. He flinched with a soft whimper as his hearing adjusted to the volume.

Upon catching Barron’s voice, Ben growled at the Elder Vampire’s gloating and bared his fangs. His back bristle and his head whipped about to face the threat. While the wolf wasn't much danger to the Vampire, it was clear Ben didn't care as he advanced on Barron’s figure, ready