Marie was of the first to leave, collecting herself and all that she had brought, ensuring that Gwyneth’s eye was still on her person. As she stepped through the door, Holt stopped her.

”Perhaps you should give the boy some method of contact. Remember that ‘twas he that lead you to the eye. He could be a valuable asset.”

Marie thought on this for a moment. She had put him through so much already, but Holt was right. If Ben identified the first of Gwyneth’s many artifacts, who’s to say he couldn’t do the same with all of them? She rifled through her long coat, pulling out charms of all descriptions. She stopped once she found a simple copper ring.

Marie took the ring and showed it to Holt, who knew her intent. He place his wispy claw on the ring, engraving a strange symbol therein. Marie then spoke softly to the ring:



She turned back to Ben, presenting him with the ring.

”Should you ever wish to contact me to talk about what happened here, just twist this ring around your finger three times and think of something you’d like to say me. My familiar, Holt, will appear to you and you can communicate through him. I wish I could give you something a little simpler, but I can’t risk anyone knowing who I am. Take care.”

With that, Marie and Holt left the storage room, passed through the witchcraft exhibit, filed down the stairs on the outside of the building, and disappeared into the crowded streets of New York, off to find a door to The Red Devil.

When Marie dropped the ring into his hand, Ben gave her a look. One that screamed he found it hard to believe this little ring would contact her. The woman seemed unconcerned about his thoughts as she began to move away, informing him about how to invoke its purpose. Shortly her and the bizarre scent that wafted in her wake vanished into the museum, leaving him alone with the twins.

Curiously he held the simple copper ring between his forefinger and thumb then examined it a moment. Finding nothing really abnormal about it, he took a breathe and placed it upon his left middle finger for safe keeping. Still wrapped within the itchy tarp, he became gradually aware that he was still naked in front of two older woman and tried to ignore it before it could gain momentum into anxiety. He carefully lowered it to primarily cover his lower extremities from sight then addressed the twins.

“You two should get out of here. I’m not sure how the agency will react to two additional wolves, and I don’t really feel like explaining you on top of what I’m doing naked here to Corpse. He’s also going to want to know what happened to the Skyler I’m suppose to have met before everything went to shit into a handbag,” Benjamin noted a headache coming on from just the thought as he rubbed his temple with his free hand. The other one bunched it near his waist and had it fixed in place, his torso from navel to head exposed to the twins.

Yeong and Ji, much to his relief, understood then nodded. The brown haired one paused then reminded him that her number was in his room when he got home and if he needed her, he was welcomed to call her any time.

“Sure but might be a bit hard because I don’t have a phone anymore,”he pretty much bit back a groan over the sight of the broken thing, his figure bent over and hand scooped it up from the ground. It obvious would get no future use until it was repaired, “However, I’ll keep it in mind. Right now, you’re wasting time. My ride should be here soon.”

It took two hours before someone from the agency came to pick him up. Zachery walked in, with the clothes from the Raptor Pack in hand, as he presented the items for him to put on. Ben immediately narrowed his eyes in suspicion. His arm reached to retrieved the clothing and then inquired about Corpse’s absence, clearly expecting the emaciated guardian to have shown up instead. Zachery inhaled drawing red flags in his instincts as his foot took a step back.

Stay calm… stay calm...Ben told himself, his arm set the clothes on a half empty shelf holding display props.

“I’m Zachery Memphis and will be your new guardian. Your prior caretaker won’t be coming back. Angelo’s recommendations weren’t enough and after failing this trial assignment due to negligence in your care, he’s chosen to be reassigned to another department. So try not to give me a hard time, kay kid?” Zachery’s hand reached out to touch Ben’s shoulder.

Sensing the gesture, the teenager’s hand flipped back to smack his kindness away. The sharp sound echoed through the room causing the individuals to stand motionless. Zachery’s arm retracted back to his side while he turned on heel, his last words called back on exiting, “I’ll give you some time to adjust to the change and get clean up. We’ll leave here shortly, which I’ll explain how things will be going from this point out.”

When the boy heard the door close, Ben felt all the tension go slack from his figure. ‘Why did I think he was any different? How could I have not realized when things got hard, he would take off?’

He hated how the information Zachery delivered had managed to sucker punch him hard and unexpectedly where it hurt the most: his trust. For once, Ben had tried to do as Corpse had asked and for all his trouble… the man just walked away. He didn’t fight or seemed to give a shit about him, a fact shown through his actions. Now, he began to realise who was the fool all along. With a hollowness filling him, a familiar and defeated sensation of acceptance, Benjamin began to get dressed once more before he headed out of the room.

On the way out he caught a glimpse of an imp that had arrived earlier. He paused long enough to watch it scratch at a stubborn stain then jerk its head up and flashed him a toothy grin. Then it popped out of sight, leaving Ben to shake his head and continue out. During the drive home, he settled into the passenger seat silently as he stared across the drifting landscape. He had nothing to say and personally, he had no desire to dwell on what he should’ve saw coming.

“We’ve got a replica of your original phone, complete with a tracking system for when you get into trouble,” the agent explained, his eyes on the road while he pulled into the driveway. Ben assumed his parents had departed for another event and the loneliness seeped into his veins deeper causing his stomach to curl, “If it breaks, I’ll be there quickly enough. Tonight I will be setting up a perimeter with several agents patrolling from your home to Hudson Valley, namely to make sure you stay in boundaries. This will prevent any local authorities from being hurt. We got lucky you merely took off but no idea if that's what you’ll do when you officially change.”

While the man continued, Ben partly tuned him out and withdrew. He didn’t care to think about what came tonight or how he wouldn’t recall it until much later. After they pulled up, his figure quickly got out then snapped the door shut in Zachery’s face. Through the tinted windows, the agent frowned deep and back back into the driver’s seat.

Casually Ben walked his way back to his hell called his life.

Once Racheli had fully dressed and adjusted everything, with both individuals showing enough decently to leaver her alone finally, she begrudgingly walked to the door. Her arm reached out and grasped the metal handle with her gloved hand. For a moment, brief, she tightened her grasp in thought. She considered melting it away then use it to kill those she knew might be on the other side. It would’ve been quick and relieving stress. However, several things came to her attention to conflict with her plans. First, the bomb within her head that should Midas’ heart stop beating could possibly kill her. Despite what Gabe had said, she held very little faith in the theories the being had once uttered about her potential and didn’t want to risk putting them to the test. Second was the matter of assuming they were on the other side and not in some waiting room, expecting her to arrive. Third and final, she was her father. The thought stabbed into her heart and made her stop cold in her tracks, frozen to the stop to shake the strange sensation.

Inhaling, her fingers fastened onto the metal then gave the handle a quick turn. The door popped open easily with barely a grind from the hinges. From there, things were typically boring as she was escorted to a car then drove to her new residence. Idly she pressed her elbow into the arm rest and watched out the window, wondering how long this new ‘home’ would last. Considering most of her others ended up becoming rumble or she didn’t stick around in for longer than a few months, her odds weren’t in favor of it lasting that long.

Ms Sparks sat in the car next to Racheli as the vehicle took them from Midas Industries to the apartment safe house that Rach would be calling home for the immediate future. As the sun started to rise and the early morning commuter traffic began congesting the streets, the ride from Midas Industries to the highrise apartment building began moving at a slow crawl. It wouldn’t have been too bad if her companion had been more sociable, however, due to the circumstances of their cohabitation of the vehicle, she was not surprised by Racheli’s lack of social graces. Finally, after what had seemed to be an eternity of awkward silence, their car had emerged from the morning gridlock and pulled up to the curb in front of one of Sherman Square’s most prestigious apartment buildings, Halcyon Towers, which of course was owned by one of Midas’ subsidiary companies. Once the car came to a stop, Ms Sparks got out of the car and motioned for Racheli to follow her. Once both women were out of the vehicle, Ms Sparks turned to Racheli and offered her a smile.

“Ready to go home?” She asked as she led the way to the front door of the building. As they passed the doorman and entered the building, Ms Sparks was taken aback by the detail that went into seemingly every inch of the baroque structure. Everywhere she looked there were detailed etchings on not only the marble floor, but in all of the woodworking as well. Carvings that depicted great leaders from history, presidents and emperors. Everyone from Alexander the Great to George Washington. Also, the phrase “Not all that Glitters is Gold” was etched above the first floor elevator door. “I think you’ll like it here. It suits you.” Sparks told Racheli as the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside, where Ms Sparks pressed the button for the 46th floor.

“I give it a week before it’s turned into rubble and that’s generous. My last apartment last only a day,”  Racheli shot off while her eyes glanced at the doorman, noting his buff physical state and narrowed her vision. She noted an unnatural bulge at his hip and zoomed in on it. From the outline, she suspected it was a gun. Her hands pressed deeper into her jeans, her hood hide her face from sight, as her feet followed Ms. Sparks into the elevator. Her figure leaned against the side railing with her shoulder and crossed over her arms, looking impatient to get this tour over.   “I sort of doubt that. A bit too fancy for me and the fact we got an armed guard downstairs, makes this a rather elegant prison.”  

“I think you’ll find that this place is a bit more...sturdy than your last apartment.” Ms Sparks said meeting Racheli’s gaze.  “Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but we are here to help you.” The statement was in essence true. Although Midas had his own reasons for wanting to have Racheli under his control, he did want to help her learn to control her powers. If nothing else, a woman who leveled entire city blocks every time she got angry was, to say the very least, less than ideal. Ms Sparks knew that they were in the right in this matter, regardless of how they came to be in possession of the girl, they were in the right. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, and I’ve been where you are. But we’ve got your best interest in mind.”

Racheli’s eyes darted toward Midas’ lackey, her gaze displayed subtle hints of fire burning underneath, while she let her mind tick away. Being a prisoner was never a natural state in the human condition and often rejected by anything from morals to modern expectations, but she kept finding herself in the situation of being under someone else’s thumb. First the CDC, then Cowl and now Midas. Her head fell backwards to thump against the elevator’s wall as she tried to hold back her strength, managing only a small indentation in the flawless steel.

Resting her head there, her voice kept a tense and razor edge to the tone, “I seem to be doing that with everyone I’ve met since I became infected. It’s getting hard to tell the good guys from the bad, my unwanted ‘guest’ attracting more attention than I need. Getting off on the wrong foot after kidnapping is the last phrase I would consider using.”

“Is that what you think? Racheli, I know Midas has an...interesting way of getting people’s attention, but despite everything, we didn’t kidnap you. We rescued you from that self aggrandizing mercenary and prevented you from blowing up any more of the city.” Ms Sparks said as the elevator came to a stop and the large double doors opened.

She then exited the elevator and motioned for Racheli to follow her.  Ms Sparks led her down the hall until the reached the last door on the left next to the large picture window at the very end of the hall which allowed for an incredible view of the city. Once they reached the door, Ms Sparks pulled a key out of her purse and unlocked the door and led Racheli into the large penthouse apartment.
[color=redindian] “Pardon me if I’m not grateful for something that came as a surprise, especially when it came with an explosive strapped to my skull,”[/color] Rach snipped back as she grudgingly followed Midas’ babysitter through the hallway, her eyes darted to the view due to her smoldering fury within her core. Her hands dug deeper into her pant pockets while she kept pace with the clicking woman in heels. When Ms. Sparks stepped back and gestured for her to walk through, Racheli brushed past into the room.

The first room that greeted her was a short hall that lead into a much bigger kitchen, dining and living room combination. A kitchen lined the wall to her right complete with fridge to microwave, each one along a black marble counter that ended where living room began. A table able to seat about six or more comfortably stood within the center, decorated by yellow, freshly cut flowers and a welcome basket. Racheli frowned at the sight and assumed Midas thought it would make her feel right at home. Her figure edged deeper into the elegant ‘prison’ as she spotted the state of the art smartphone, her leash, next to the welcome basket. She reached for the device and held it out for her eyes to examine along every inch of it. While it appeared she had never actually seen one and tried to satisfy her idle curiosity, she actually had been looking for any miniscule flaw within the phone’s seam. Any little hint of customized additions she preferred not to find later.  

After Rach took several moments to look at it, her hand set it down surprisingly gently. It made a soft tap upon the hard surface. She twisted about to face Ms. Sparks, who she expected would be likely leering at her again, before she spoke again, “Alright, now what? Do you plan on sticking around or does Midas have something for you to go do before hightailing it back?”          

“Well, that depends on you. Can you be a good girl, or do you need a babysitter?” Ms Sparks snapped slightly harsher than she had intended. While she understood Racheli’s anger at the situation, the young woman’s attitude was beginning to grate on Ms Sparks’ nerves. “Look, we don’t have to be enemies. I know what you’re going through, and it sucks. Hell, I understand better than most exactly what it’s like. But it doesn’t have to be a bad situation. We can make something good come of this.”

“Let the hell you do! You don’t know half of it and don’t try to pretend you do,” Rach growled, her fist tighten and her hunches raised at the retort. Any metal within the room rattle slightly at her emotional outburst while they twisted and contorted before her peripheral vision noted it. A sound of frustration died in her throat, her figure twisted about to walk away toward the living room connected to the kitchen. Her figure leaned against the window frame overlooking the street below, her palms not caring if the metal started to bite into her flesh. It would heal.  

“You’re wrong. I know exactly what you’re going through. I went through it too.” Ms Sparks said as she pulled back her hair at the back of her head, indicating a small, almost unnoticeable scar just behind her ear. “It sucks, there’s no way around it. You feel like you have no choice, like you’re caged in. But I do promise you, it gets better Racheli. It gets easier, and eventually...well, I guess that’s up to you.”

“No, it fucking doesn’t,” Rach’s eyes turned to spy the scar. She wasn’t comforted by the fact it seemed Ms. Sparks shared the same experience, from both her words and her show, as she didn’t have the past that rotated around violence and blood. Her fingers only tightened on the railing until it gave an abrupt squeech causing her head to jerk down and see the damage.

Puck’s prophecy surfaced to her mind and part of her wanted to merely just… run. Run far and fast from the doubt and pain of what could be a possible truth, that she was a monster. It had been rather rattling to hear a ‘demon’ himself point blank call her one. Ever since she felt the day slip from her grasp until where she had finally hit rock and landing her here. Still unable to leave the window, her arms crossed over the distorted bar and lowered her head to hide from the defeat she felt.    

“That’s...quite a grip you’ve got.” Ms Sparks said as she looked at the damaged railing. “Racheli, I’ve been where you are, and I know the fear and anger that you’re feeling, and I promise you…” She said locking eyes with Rach, trying to show her that she is sincere, “You will get through this, just like I did. Hell, when it’s all said and done, maybe you’ll stick around like I did. Maybe you won’t, that’s up to you. But let whatever may come out of this, let us help you learn to control your powers. You don’t want what happened yesterday happen every time you lose your cool, do you?”

“Try saying that in the same tone when even a demon subtly hints that you’re a monster,” Rach snarled softly, her eyes refused to look at the damage her grip had caused, “The bad part… I’m not even sure I reached my max power during that fight. I just got this gut feeling I held back and… fuck.”

“A demon told you that?” Ms Sparks asked unable to hide the shock in her voice. During her time in Lost Haven, she had seen a lot. She was there for D-Day and saw the destruction that the demons had caused throughout the city. When she spoke, she slightly recoiled at the sound of her own voice. She never liked showing anyone, no matter who any sort of weakness. That was a trait that she had gained in her years of service to Midas. “And you believed him? Racheli, a demon’s entire purpose is to plant seeds in your mind, to make you doubt yourself. Nobody is destined to be a monster. You choose to be one, or you choose not to be. It’s up to you, and no one else. Never, ever let anybody get that kind of control over you.”

“Right or wrong, I don’t deny… I’m obviously not normal. Even before the virus,” Racheli huffed, only half agreeing with her, while letting her hand ruffle through her short hair and let it fall back into place. Her figure rose from the railing and continued to stare outside, “He might be designed to get under my skin and in the end I can’t help but wonder.”

The words brought a venomous tone into her voice as her father’s image surfaced, a memory from years ago. Usually she refused to reflected on the past but now she found herself trapped and unable to run away from it. No matter how much she wanted to. Anger foamed at her center and bubbled up as her fist raised before cracking the side into the glass, letting the desire pass. It spiderwebbed on contact but didn’t break.

“Hurting yourself won’t make the truth go away…” Both women heard a masculine voice come from behind them, the virus’ usual form stood not far from their location.

Ms Sparks jumped at the sound of the male voice coming from behind him and instinctively grabbed the sidearm she had hidden inside of the lightweight leather jacket that she wore. She stood there in shock staring at a man who should not be there. This was a secure building that nobody should have been able to breach, yet he was standing there right in front of her. There was something familiar about the dark haired man. The way he leered at her with a predatory look in his eyes, the way he maliciously smiled at her. He actually reminded her of...Racheli.

“Good luck hitting him. No one’s been able to yet,” Rach flipped over to lean her back against the rail, facing him, “As for you, fuck the hell off.”

“Friend of yours?” Ms Sparks asked, suspecting that she already knew the answer.

“More like an unwanted guest running through my veins,” she replied, “He seems a bit too fond of that man’s image…”

“Waitaminute...That, that’s not…” Ms Sparks said in disbelief. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. And yes, it’s my virus. I was sort of out of it while he was rampaging my system so I missed his explanation when he first appeared,” Rach sighed then moved toward the fridge, needing something strong to kill the figurative headache budding in her skull.

The virus, however, merely chuckled, “I feel bad for popping your bubble, but you’re not going to get drunk. The nanites will break it down too fast and use it for something else.”

Rach just flipped him off as she opened the fridge, the sounds of bottle and other items clashing gently in her search.  

“Listen to me Racheli.” Sparks said in as calm of a voice as she could muster. This thing inside of her, that was somehow standing directly in front of them has up until this point nothing short of a force of nature. There was no way that they could fight the virus here, their only hope was for somehow to banish it. “Rach, you need to get control of it. Remember, it is a part of you, whether you like it or not. You can control it, you just have to believe in yourself. You’re stronger than you know, you can do this. Racheli, you’ve got to do this.”

“First off, calm down. Let me show you something,” Rach causally walked up to the virus’ projection then showed one hand, her other held her wine cooler, then shoved it right through the ‘man’. She did this three time, her eyes watched Ms. Sparks’ expression each round. When it was done, her hand plopped the bottle down before she explained, “From what I do know, the virus is intelligent. This isn’t really him but a ghost or what the fuck did you call it?”
The virus rolled his eyes then corrected Rach, ‘Mental projection.’

“That,” she stated, her thumb pointed in the projection’s direction, “Do you still think we are the same?”  

“It doesn’t matter what I think. You can control him. You can be in control of yourself. He is nothing but a parasite, but you...you’re something special. You just have to realize it.” Ms Sparks told her as she focused on the projection of the virus. “Take control Racheli, put him back in his box. You can do it.”

“Right now, he’s fucking harmless. He can’t attack you or even do shit to anything, at least according to what he told Icarus and me. Considering I’ve been carrying this damn thing around for nearly half a year, I’ve tried nearly fucking everything worth trying,” Rach’s voice was thick with sarcasm and irritation at the woman’s insistence at her to ‘turn’ him off. If she knew how, than it would’ve happened a long time ago as she turned to press her ass against the counter edge and pause from her search for a bottle opener, “If you know how to turn off a mental project that isn’t yours… I would love to hear it. Other than that, do what I do. Shut up and ignore the bastard.”

Her figure returned to seek out the opener only to find the drawers filled with anything but what she fucking needed. Leaning against the edge, her arms braced herself and took a breath before she lifted upright. Rach whipped out her arm to snatch the bottle’s neck before she held her hand an inch over the lid. It jiggled and vibrated until it crunched inward rather than outward. Glass crackled as it was removed, leaving a jagged stub to drink out of. Racheli had seriously started to miss the Forge since she barely broke anything mundane there.

Ms Sparks just stood there for a moment staring at Racheli. This is Midas’ big plan? Her? She thought to herself as she continued staring at the young woman who was quickly becoming more than an enigma to her. She understood that Racheli was powerful, however Ms Sparks was beginning to question her mental state, and whether she was up to the task at hand.

“Right…” Ms Sparks replied to Racheli’s sudden outburst, and watched as the young woman broke the neck of a glass bottle. She then went over to the kitchen counter and opened the third drawer over from the fridge, and pulled out the bottle opener that Racheli had missed and left it sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Impatient much?” She said as she turned her back to Racheli and walked through the mental projection of her virus, and continued on into the living room.

“Yeah, especially in this situation. My usual method for chilling would likely break the guy in half,” Rach grumbled more to herself while she dumped the broken bottle and its contents down the sink. Leaving the broken glass there for the time being, her hand gripped the opener then moved toward the fridge to grab herself another drink, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”   

“Yes. As a matter of fact I do. Do you think you can behave yourself long enough to allow me to get on with my day?” Ms Sparks asked, growing ever more tired of Racheli’s antics with each passing second.

“Then go. It’s not like I can really go anywhere without your boss knowing it and I’m sure if I go off the grid, you’ll be nipping at my heels,” Rach replied, her hand with the bottle gestured for the door.

One of the perks that comes with the apartments that Viera provides for their models is that there’s an on-site exercise facility located inside the complex. And it’s not crammed into a hole in a wall, either. While there isn’t enough room for an indoor track, this private gym does have a variety of machines and equipment. Emily and I always try to make it over there at least a couple of times each week. Sure, having superhuman strength and enhanced metabolism kind of makes exercising pointless, but I still have to keep up the appearance that it does. Plus, I’ve found that exercising can give you some other benefits other than losing a couple of pounds.

After I took a sip from a bottle of water that I normally bring along with me while exercising, I headed towards the leg extension machine and inserted the pin on the appropriate weight. While I worked out my legs, Emily stood beside the machine and chatted. She had a habit of doing more talking than actually using the equipment when we come here. Not that it distracts me or anything, so it doesn’t really bother me that much. Plus, I suppose she's exercising her jaw muscles, so there is that.

“Have you picked out a dress for the party this weekend?” Emily asked. She was referring to this event that we’re expected to attend. Since Pacific Point is only about a little more than an hour’s drive from Los Angeles and Hollywood, apparently, there’s supposed to be a much of famous people attending. I guess meeting, or at least seeing, some celebrities could be interesting.

“I’ll probably just pull something out of my closet. I’m sure there’s something in there that’s appropriate for the event.”

“Have you seen who’s rumored to be attending?”

“No.” I responded without turning to look at Emily.

“Apparently, Christopher Arthur is supposed to be in attendance.” Emily announced to me. When I heard that name, I immediately stopped what I was doing and gave her a concerned look. “He’s supposed to be really brilliant.”

“I’ll pass.” I told her as I got up from the chair that was attached to the exercise machine. I grabbed a disinfecting tissue and swept over the pairs of the machine that I touched.

“I guess you’re not a fan of his.” Of course I’m not a fan of his! He kidnapped me after I had been kidnapped by that Doctor Dip-whatever his name was and given my powers. And that bitch, Archangel. I hated her, too. Probably even more than Arthur. I’m so glad I’ve haven’t heard a single thing about her since the whole dome crisis last February.

I then retrieved a medicine ball and headed over to the next exercise station. At this station, there was a raised bench that was elevated a little on one side. Resting my stomach against the elevated side, I began what were essentially upside-down sit-ups with the medicine ball in my arms, since I would bend down my upper body towards the ground and then straighten myself out again.

“Well, hopefully you’ll meet at least someone you don’t hate.” Emily encouraged me, probably to make sure I’m not a total Debby Downer during the party.

While I continued this exercise, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of two other models heading towards the exit of the gym. Although it seemed like they were not trying to make their conversation heard by the two of us, the volume of their voices still carried all the way back to where Emily and I were.

“I can hardly believe that Double A needs an additional medicine ball when she already has two attached to her.” Whitney told Nicole as they walked towards the exit. However, before I could hear what the other girl had to say, although I can’t say that I really wanted to know, they had already gone through the door and out of earshot.

“Well, I guess that’s at least three people who are going to be at that event who I totally cannot stand.”

“Hey, at least I’ll be there. That means something, doesn’t it?” Emily tried to show the bright side of the situation. “Also, we don’t have to meet them for lunch if you don’t want to. No need to spending more time with them than you need to.”

“No, it’s fine. I guess a promise is a promise.” A few days ago, Whitney and Nicole asked us if we wanted to join them for lunch sometime this week. Although I would have loved to turn them down, since we all are going to be living in close proximity of one another for the next five or so months, I might at least learn to endure them.

Oh, I did mention my enhanced metabolism, didn’t I?

---

“Here are three salads.” The waitress said as she slid the three bowls filled with colorful vegetables in front of Emily, Whitney, and Nicole. She then placed my dish in front of. “And a cheeseburger with everything on it, with a side of fries and a strawberry milkshake. Do you girls need anything else?”

“No thank you.” I told her with a smile. When I turned back to the other three girls, I saw them all peer down at their own tiny bowl of vegetables and then glanced up at the plate that sat in front of me. Emily was the first to speak, scooting her chair closer to mine and placing her hand beside her mouth as if she was trying to prevent Whitney and Nicole from hearing what she was about to say.

“Aubrey, you’re not anorexic, are you? I know that people in our profession don’t always follow the healthiest practices, but that’s not healthy for you.” Emily told me out of concern, as a friend.

“Of course not.” I tried to talk her out of that idea that I’m somehow anorexic. Unfortunately, I cannot just say that I have an enhanced metabolism and it allows me to eat this food without weighing 400 lbs. “I wouldn’t stoop to those extremes just to stay inhumanly thin.

“Then where does all those calories go?” Whitney asked, a confused expression stuck on her face. “What, do you have a hollow leg?”

“No.” I told Whitney, looking her in the eyes. “It obviously goes into my medicine balls.”

And that is my middle finger to you, Whitney. That's why you should be careful about what you say aloud. You never know who might hear you.

---

On the outskirts of Pacific Point, at a private pier, several men gathered around a metallic box. These men belonged to a minor crime organization located in Pacific Point. Their operations were not as large as those of the Shroud Syndicate and most people did not even know that they even existed, let along know their name. Or at least they were not yet as large. This anonymity was actually quite a boon, since it allowed them to small, yet decent profit without the feds or caps sniffing around.

“What’s in the box, boss?” One of the henchmen asked.

“It is what will even the odds between us and those capes.” The Ringleader told his men. He then bent down and flipped up the latches that secured the lid of the metallic container and threw open the lid. The first henchman who had asked about the contents of the container peered in. However, he was quite confused about what lurked inside.

“Fish pills?” He said. “How is that going to help us? Prevent us from getting heart disease?”

“These are not just any ordinary omega-3 supplement pills.” The Ringleader explained to his men, “These capsules contain the oils of fish that were exposed to the device that would have created a dome around Lost Haven if one of the heroes had not dropped it into the Atlantic Ocean.”

“So, does that mean if we take these that…” Another of the Ringleader’s men started to say.

“Yes.” The Ringleader confirmed his man’s speculation. “While we don’t want to stoop to those monsters’ level, there’s nothing wrong with using them to cause some chaos in the public sphere and turn the public’s loyalties against those caps! They’re nothing more than abominations wearing a sheep’s wool.”

But suddenly, the men gathered at the pier heard the engine of a motorcycle nearby. The Ringmaster signaled to his men to go deal with the intruder, whoever he or she was. He sent all of his men except for one, who he ordered to help him carry the metallic container to a boat at the end of the wooden pier. As the Ringleader and one of his henchmen hurried away from the action, they began to heard the crack of gunfire and the barely audible clang of a bowstring being released. When they were only a few feet away their getaway boat, the two men found out that someone was standing in their way. Since it was nighttime, the two men could not really see much of the man besides his silhouette. However, when electricity began to spark from his hands, they began to get a better glance at whoever it was. The man was wearing a dark blue bodysuit that covered his entire body, insolating it from the temperature of the ocean’s water.

“Out of the way, creep!” The Ringmaster yelled at the man. He drew a pistol from his jacket in order to show that he wasn’t messing around. However, the Ringmaster soon found out that he brought a gun to a superpower fight. The man in the dark blue costume took the electricity that was building up around his hands and sent out a shockwave towards the Ringleader, blasting him off the wooden pier and into the water.

The henchman, who was already freaked out by what happened to his boss, dropped the case and ran back towards where everyone else was fighting the first intruder. That intruder could not be any worse than the electric-based metahuman who stood before him, right? However, as he dashed back towards the mainland, several giant, octopus-like appendages burst out of the water and wrapped round the wooden pier. These appendages then pulled down on the wood planks, dragging them down to the ocean floor.

“Leaving so soon? The party has just started.” A sultry voice called out to the panic-stricken man. From beneath the surface of the water, a woman arose. The octopus-like tentacles obviously belonged to this woman and they were attached to her where her feet would normally be. And around her waist were the heads of feral dogs, snapping their jaws at the man. That man had already gone ghostly pale and was not sure what to do now. He finally decided to make a jump for it, over the broken pier that the woman had destroyed. However, when he tried to make it across, the woman’s tentacle snatched him out of the air and flung him into the water.

“Let’s get out of here, Hydro Shock.” The woman barked at the man wearing the dark-blue colored costume.

“Working on it, Scylla.” Hydro Shock called back as he checked the metallic container. In the distance, a shark’s fin broke through the surface of the ocean. It came closer and closer to the pier until it was right next to the wood columns that held it up. A muscular arm reached out of the water and pulled the shark-man out of the water, along with a water-proof container. Hydro Shock and Jaws quickly poured the items contained in the metallic box into the storage unit that they had brought with them.

Once they closed shut the lid to the water-proof container, the three of the aquatic villains were preparing to depart back into the ocean, when suddenly an arrow plunged itself into the shoulder of the giant shark-man. He roared more so in rage than in pain, since his tough skin prevented the arrow tip from penetrating deep into his body. With his massive hand, Jaw yanked out the arrow and tossed it into the ocean. On the opposite side of the pier stood Odysseus, with his bow in hand.

“Let’s get out of here.” Hydro Shock yelled, “We’ve secured what we wanted.”

Therefore, Jaws and Hydro Shock dived into the ocean’s waves, while Scylla sunk down beneath the water’s surface. The darkness of the night and of the ocean concealed their whereabouts and prevented Odysseus from pursuing them any further.

“This town is getting weirder and weirder every day.” Odysseus said aloud. He then heard someone trying to pull himself out of the water. The henchman who Scylla had tossed into the ocean, was catching his breath as he tried to get himself back on the pier’s deck.

“Were those freaks your friends?” He asked Odysseus.

“Sorry. I only work with land animals.” Odysseus told the man before he planted his boot into the man’s face, sending him back into the water.

Voyager

Voyager was beat. Still aching from the brutal beat-down she had with the metal monster and emotionally drained from the whole experience, heading home to rest and spending the remainder of the night watching her favorite TV show sounded pretty good to her right now. Yet at the same time, she was more excited then she'd ever been in her life. Granted she hadn't been around for a long time to begin with, at least as far as she could remember, but just thinking about all the friends she made and the villains she fought...it just felt wonderful knowing she had been a part of that. That she had been a hero.

Slowing down slightly, Voyager took a look around the street for the first time since she was dragged into it by that giant anchor. Things were in pretty bad shape; great chunks of the street and nearby buildings were battered and broken by the day's events, cars were smashed along the side of the road, and grime and rubble seemed to litter the ground everywhere. Voyager flinched as something splashed on her, reminding her of that great metal monster again, only to realize it was just a spurt of water spraying from under a crack in the road, probably from a broken pipe. The only cars on the road had flashing lights and sirens now, as people in different colored uniforms ran back and forth trying to control the damage that the Game Genie had inflicted on the city. Voyager had already done a lot to save the city from the strange pixelated attack, but if she was going to be a hero, Voyager figured she had to do more then just punch out a bad guy and go home. It didn't feel right leaving everyone else to pick up the pieces.

Ignoring her weariness, Voyager did just that, wandering around and helping wherever she could. Most people seemed surprised to see her helping, but were nonetheless pleased when she started helping them to heave debris into large trucks, using a little bit of Psiforce to push around the heavier objects. When she couldn't find rubble to clean up she gravitated towards the men and women in blue who were tending to the wounded, mostly moving them around and assisting with some first aid.

"Is she going to be okay?" Voyager asked one of the older uniformed men, concerned over the amount of blood on the shirt of the woman she was helping into a vehicle.

"She'll be fine, it looks worse than it is," he responded, having gotten use to the absurdity of an alien for a good Samaritan. "Just glad you and the other heroes got here in time to stop this whole mess, Miss...?"

"Voyager," the half-alien recited again, nowhere near tired of reminding people.

"Well Voyager, I think with kids like you around Pacific Point's gonna be in good shape," the man said with a smile, tipping his hat as he climbed into the back of the vehicle as it sped off. Feeling herself glowing again, she turned around to try and find something else to do when something flew up and slammed into her legs, followed by a flash of light from a nearby camera.

"Wh-wha?" Voyager said stupidly as she tried to reorient herself.

"Sweety, ask before you do that," a woman's voice doted as she stepped forward to pry what Voyager realized was a small child off of her legs. "Sorry, she can be a little excitable."

"That's okay, she wasn't hurting anything. Just glad to help!" Voyager said a little sheepishly, waving at the small child who waved back with a big smile on her face. Finding her way over to some more rubble to pick up, she couldn't help but grin a little when she heard a young voice yell out how she wanted to be like her when she grew up.

"Funny, I'm pretty sure she's older then you," came a familiar voice opposite her.

"Mister Martel!" Voyager said in surprise. In his bomber jacket and missing his glasses, she almost didn't recognize Dr. Alexander Martel standing across from her, already helping to move some rubble from a particularly nasty street brawl.

"No need to let the world know," he remarked sharply, leading her to a large and heavy bit of concrete that would take them off to the side for a while. "You have an interesting idea of what it means to stay in the lab. Can I see those inhibitors?"

"It was not my fault!" she said indignantly, holding out her arms to give the doctor a cursory glance at the devices. "Those strange robot men broke into the room and-"

"Don't worry Riley, I'm just glad you're okay, as I'm sure Fletcher would be too," he said with a light chuckle, turning over her hands to get a better look at the cracks in the glass devices. "I see you've been quite active today, 'Voyager'..."

"Do you think Miss Jordan will be upset?" Riley asked innocently.

"About you getting loose or the fact that you've named yourself after a television program?" Martel remarked with a wry smile. "Let's finish up here and meet back at the Poseidon building. Should be a spare lab room that hasn't been ransacked at this point."

Sometime Around Midnight

With the help of a discarded hooded jacket, Riley managed to sneak back inside the Poseidon complex at the point she left, where Dr. Martel quickly ferried her into another door down the hallway where he had already moved some of the furniture and devices from the old room, whereupon Riley quickly ferried herself to the old sofa and collapsed onto it, breathing a content sigh of relief.

"I am surprised no one was around the giant hole in the wall," she commented tiredly.

"There were other rooms broken into that demanded more attention then an 'unused' lab. Inhibitors?" Martel peered curiously at the damage as she detached and handed them over to him. "Just had to volunteer to watch this area and it was a safe spot to get in."

"Is that where Jordan is, watching the other labs?" Riley asked tentatively.

"No, she got called down to the company warehouse, apparently some street gangs broke into Darrow's storage and the company wants some extra muscle just in case. She just called," Martel explained, moving the inhibitors to his workbench to start repairs. The conversation faltered, leaving only the buzzing of his tools to fill the silence. With the days excitement over and done with, the guilt over going off to cause trouble came crashing down on Riley like that anchor did. Jordan and Mr. Martel had done so much to help protect her, and she responded by wandering off and causing chaos in public, almost getting killed in the process. Was what she did wrong? Maybe...but a little part of her felt like if the day repeated itself, she still would have put on Voyager's helmet when the time came.

"She's not mad, you know," Martel said abruptly, setting aside his tools to admire his handiwork. "A little annoyed maybe, but not mad."

"How did you...?"

"You haven't been this quiet since she got upset over the DVD you accidentally scratched," Martel commented, walking back to her with the repaired devices. "I put two and two together."

"Two and two of what?"

"I...well, it's a saying, means I guessed what was going on," Martel said, faltering slightly as he set the inhibitors in front of her. "Point is, you seemed upset, just trying to help."

"I am okay, really," Riley said, slipping down the cushions to lie on her back. "Just...thinking about Voyager. Not the Trek show, the other one," she amended quickly.

"Ah," Martel said coolly, crossing his arms behind his back. "I was expecting this."

"You were?"

"Of course. Fletcher wanted to set this up for your protection of course, but even she knew you couldn't stay in a lab room forever," Martel explained, taking a seat on the end of the couch Riley wasn't occupying. "I certainly didn't plan for an Atari invasion to be your first big experience on the outside, but it served that purpose, it seems."

"A very strange purpose," Riley commented, thinking back to when she, Shovel Knight, and Penny teamed up to take down that big angry guy. "I even met another alien, a really big one! And a weird guy who threw axes and an even bigger guy who I shot with my eyes!"

"...shot with your eyes?"

"Yeah, it was like, bwooooom!" Riley said, accenting the sound effect by flailing her arms in a crude imitation of lasers coming from her eyes. "Then he fell down and I passed out or something, it was fun."

"Fascinating," Martel said, making a mental note of this new ability. "And you even stayed to help with the cleanup?"

"It felt like the right thing to do," Riley explained simply. "Do you think I should go back tomorrow and help more?"

"You might want to clean up first," Martel said, giving the grime-covered half-alien in the battered suit an uncomfortable look before checking his watch. "Damn it's late, better inform the night guard of where I am. Excuse me a moment..."

"Mister Martel," Voyager asked as the doctor got up to leave. "Do...do you think Voyager can come back tomorrow? To help out and stuff?" Martel paused at the door to mull over his words, thinking of the best thing to say.

"Do you want her to come back?" The answer came almost naturally to Riley.

"I...I want to help people."

Martel smiled slightly. "Then I think I should find a new uniform for you. Should be a couple spares in the back room."

"Ooh, can you make it purple?"

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jenny’s voice had shot from the kitchen.

Scott had barely set foot into the apartment that he shared with his kid sister after returning from assisting in the San Francisco warehouse party fire and Jenny was all over him. He had bailed on Alexa and her parents in order to help the fire fighting efforts, and he knew that he was going to pay for that. Not from Alexa, but from her parents. Alexa’s father, Jonathan Winstone hated the fact that Scott was with his daughter. Mr. Winstone was a bit of a snob, and felt that only a man with about 10 figures in his bank account was worthy of his daughter’s time. The elder Winstone did not bother to hide his disapproval of the relationship, more concerned with appearances than his own daughter’s happiness.

“Scott, you smell like smoke. You need to get cleaned up and get to the restaurant, fast!” Jenny told her older brother. When Scott had first started dating Alexa, Jenny had been skeptical. All she knew about Alexa was what the tabloids had published about her. She was a spoiled rich party girl who had been given control of the East Coast branch of Winstone International because she was “Daddy’s Little Princess.” What she did not expect, was the real Alexa Winstone. In the months that Scott and Alexa had been together, Jenny and Alexa had become very close. Jenny saw Alexa as the older sister that she never had. So when she saw that Scott was dragging his feet to get to the “family dinner” that he had so been dreading, it pissed her off.

“Thirty-six people.” Scott said as he made his way past the kitchen on his way to the bathroom.

“What?” Jenny asked.

“I saved thirty-six people tonight. Thirty-six people that the firefighters couldn’t get to, thirty-six people that had been left for dead.” Scott told her. “Thirty-six people that are alive because I was able to get to them. I think I made the right choice.” Scott finished as he went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Moments later her reemerged from the bathroom, fully showered and changed. He looked dashing in the black and grey suit that Alexa had bought him special for this occasion. Even though he told her not to get him the suit, she had insisted. Though he would have looked just as good in one of the suits that he already owned, she wanted desperately for Scott to impress her father; a feat that Scott knew was something impossible. He could come right out and tell him that he was Icon, and he still wouldn’t be good enough. Despite his reluctance to accept the suit, he had to admit something…He looked damn good.

“Wow.” Jenny said as Scott emerged from the bathroom. “You look great. Go knock ‘em dead.” Jenny finished as Scott flashed her smile as he walked out the door.

Scott could have flown from his apartment over The Hub to AnGio which was located just outside of the Financial District, and been there in moments. However, he decided that he would get there the old fashioned way, he’d take the subway. So he made his way to the station just several blocks away from The Hub and boarded the Blue Line toward Central Station. From there he traversed the six blocks to AnGio, which he found to be a bit trendy for his taste. However, the white collar workers, as well as the Lost Haven elites absolutely loved the place, which had a three month waiting list for reservations. Scott entered the restaurant and had to admit, he was impressed. The décor was outstanding, combining the elegance that you might expect at a five star restaurant with a true homey atmosphere. As he approached the host, for the first time he understood why there was a three month long wait list.

“Can I help you, Sir?” the host asked as Scott approached him.

“Um, yes. I’m with the Winstone party, they’re expecting me.” Scott replied.

“Ah yes, you must be Mr. Hunter. We were beginning to wonder if you were going to be able to join us.” The host said in a manner that was equal parts welcoming and scolding as pointed Scott in the right direction.

Yeah, this is going to be a great night… Scott said to himself as he laid eyes on Mr. and Mrs. Winstone. As he approached the table, his eyes shifted to Alexa, and in that instant he remembered exactly why he put himself through the tortures that her father was sure to inflict throughout the evening.

As Scott approached the table, Jonathan Winstone and his wife, Janice both stood to greet him. While Janice could be cold and distant, she was much more tolerant of his relationship with Alexa than her husband, who was outright opposed to them being together. As Scott reached the table Janice stepped toward him from the table with her arms open.

“Scott, it’s so good to see you.” She said as she leaned in and gave him a brief hug.

“Indeed.” Jonathan said wistfully while avoiding eye contact.

“It’s good to see you, Janice.” Scott said as he pulled away and turned to her husband. “Jonathan.” Scott said as he extended his hand, which the older man did not take, instead taking his seat at the table.

Prick. Scott thought to himself as he turned his attention to Alexa, who had remained seated at the table. He leaned down and wrapped his muscular arms around her shoulders while he buried his face in her dark brown hair, kissing her on the top of the head as he slipped into the seat beside her.

“You’re late.” Jonathan said coldly without making eye contact.

“Yeah, my apologies, my partner wasn’t able to make it to work today and there was an issue with a delivery, which is usually his department.” Scott lied as he reached for a glass of water, and braced himself for a very long, very contentious night.

---

“Disappointing…,” Avatar spoke to the corpse over his shoulder. Softly his joints shuddered their protest under both his walking movements and the weight he carried, his feet halted every few steps in order to check his baggage. He then adjusted it whenever it threatened to slip from his grasp. Already it had managed to elude him twice as it splattered to the ground with a sicken thump. Over the course of the trip the face of Aaron Turner had become disfigured with numerous postmortem bruising along the jaw, cheekbone, and even the chin. If it wasn’t for the fact the man had been killed then cooked to death, he would’ve appeared to been a victim of an unexpected bar fight and his ‘buddy’ was hauling him home.

Masts from tied up boats creaked in the wind batting along the coastal shore, the tide shifting in then back out into the sea. The weather and currents were ideal for getting rid of the body. In the distance, traffic blared on without a clue about the heinous crime about to occur. The notion made Avatar chuckle how self centered the human race it was.

Avatar’s feet tested the tension in each movement and adjusted his footing for better traction against the slick surface. Upon arriving at Pier 13, he listened a moment to the tide when it rose then receded below him. His head turned to spot the moonlight glistening off the dark, moving surface. It gave an eerie appearance even with the dimly lit lamp posts nearby, illuminating his activities. A few ships were easily tied to the pier for the fisherman to go to work at dawn. His figure lowered then shoved the body off his arm and let it drop like a sack of potatoes on the sea washed boards. Upon straightening up, he reached his hands to the rope and he casually unwound it, jerking the end from its anchor. With the cluster of boats he knew it wouldn’t float too far without damaging the others.

His face viewer turned to notice the viewing meters for the tourists’ just a foot from him, recalling he would need to ensure the body remained submerged in the water. Tossing down the rope, he reached for the metal pole and began to sway it back then forth. It gave a loud, metallic screech with each movement. The planks creaked in their resistance as the screws gradually gave, causing the wood to splinter. After a few more tries, the pole finally busted out of its holdings and into his hands.

Once more reaching for the rope, a blinding light flooded the darkness causing him to pause. Avatar’s head turned to face the unusual sight of young police officer cautiously walking down the pier, his hands on his gun and his car’s headlights the light’s source.

“Whatever the fuck you are, drop the weapon then get on the ground. Now,” the man nearly screamed.

Avatar merely shook his head as he walked forward, unfazed by the man’s gun pointed at him. Electricity flowed through the metal outside with a hissing crackle and buzz, the energy building up to something as it gathered in his palm. The police officer, terrified, trembled a bit while his gun trained on the droid’s figure. Mentally, Avatar grew excited at his first true test on his new body. His arm raised across his chest and his face seemed completely cold, lacking any emotional indications of a human face, in each step closer. Upon hearing the overwhelming buzzing in his audio sensors, he knew he needed additional time to charge and the only way to do that was to test the physical abilities of his droid.

He spoke,“I don’t think so. Now that you’ve witnessed my attempt to hide the evidence of my first murder, you will have to die.”

Without any warning, Avatar shot forward at the officer. His speed enhanced by the electricity moving through his technology, he became a blur. A grounded leg bent at the knee, then hips tilted and twisted bring his other to smack into the man’s side. The gun let out a deafening pop as his finger tugged the trigger. A projectile clipped Avatar’s shoulder, scratching the surface and penetrating into it. The metal was too thick for it to exit, but sparks pulsed from the damage. Immediately the officer was flung to the pier side and screamed in pain. Avatar smirked, inwardly, upon feeling the muscles take the impact’s blunt force and the sound of a rib crack. The gun went skidding across the dock before it came to rest under Avatar’s foot which applied pressure, crushing it on his way to the helpless man.

Fear poured off him as the officer scrambled to his feet then rushed for his car. His left arm held to his injured ribs and the right scratched at the car door, his head frantically eyeing the approaching machine. Three times he failed in his panic as Avatar causally and with a confident pace walked toward him. Upon shuffling to the driver’s side, he gripped the radio for backup. Avatar wasn’t about to give the man the chance. His arm jerked out then released an electrical shot at the car’s surface. The sirens blared then bursted causing the man to scream and his body hunched down for cover.

Everything went dead silent.

Cautiously, the officer peered over the dash and Avatar was nowhere in sight. Still shaken and rattled, he began to open the car door slowly. He edged out quietly before he plopped back into the car then tried the radio. It was dead. Cursing, he began to pull back out of the car when a cold, metal hand seized him from behind. Dangling from a few feet above, the officer’s hands came to feebly hook and attempt to peel away the fingers constricting his throat. Avatar just tightened his grip and jerked higher. With a quick, precise twist the neck gave with a loud a snap. His C1 and C2 completely severed leaving him alive but unable to move.

When the struggle ceased, Avatar laid the man back into his driver’s seat then went for Turner’s body. After placing the other man into the back, the droid set the car into neutral and locked the doors. Gradually, he began to shove the car off the pier’s end. It dove into the sea causing a loud splash as it sank under the water, the officer’s eyes widen in panic but unable to move. The hard work finished, Avatar began to walk back into the docks where he would seek out his next test.

As the night came while the events of Pacific Point wrapped up on television Abraham sat in a cafe not far from where he expects to find the fragments of the Black Sword, his latte sat steaming as the cafe began to close up shop for the night being that he was their last customer he took it upon himself to sit outside on the few covered tables until the night grew too late and even he had to leave. As the news had gathered a more detailed series of events the newscaster spoke. “That about wraps it up folks, STRIKE has shown up to take the Criminal into their custody. I was sure this would be a longer ordeal thankfully Pacific Point has their local heroes to thank. Even Hound Dog was caught on camera striking down a behemoth of a monster in a single blow, and these new heroes. We may have a lot to look forward to in the near future.”

“Right you are Jim. Now here’s Shelly with the weather.” A female newscaster spoke before the channel was switched off. News channels always seemed to cover Hero sightings and even more so when criminals get out of hand and take an entire city hostage it was common to see news coverings of other cities. He knew the world was hungry for Hero news, and did his best to keep his work in the shadows. The Human race was just not ready for the existence of the Supernatural. A waitress strode up to him nervously blushing before the young hunter of monsters in a way she’d treat a movie star. “Um sir, we’ll be closing. I hate to ask you but it’s nearly time to leave.”

“So it is.” Abraham looked at his watch bending his wrist towards himself. “A bit for yourself beautiful.” He said as he left a crisp ten dollar tip for what would be an average latte, flashing his white smile as he brushed snow off his wool long coat. “Seems like a light dusting. Good thing I’m heading home, take care.” Pushing his chair back under the table, Abraham felt snow flakes falling onto his face along with the cool breeze as the people at the cafe whispered.

“Think he’s famous.” One waitress spoke to another. As they giggled.

“Not sure. He’s a charmer though.” When Abe looked back glancing around the corner he could see them attempt to pretend to work, but he could see the grins on their faces while the lights turned green and he crossed the street.

Meanwhile back at Aunt Briley’s house. Eva sat down at the dinner table as Briley pulled out a dish. “You need to work on some sort of costume, or else you won’t have a secret identity.””

Arthur nodded and flipped a book cover over.”You’ll need more than that, armor forged by a god, and only the best. I am afraid I have no such connections directly, but I may know someone who could help us. Let me get things set up, she may not want to meet you yet.”

”Grand.” Eva’s eyes rolled as she lifted her fork. ”Considering your last friend hasn’t even shown up yet I can’t say I’m thrilled to meet someone who isn’t happy to see me.” Referring to his old friend Merlin of this world and not the snarky give no fucks queen bitch of another world Merlin.

“Arthur yes, I still can’t get comfortable with a ghost around even if he was a king. I still feel like you’re talking to yourself.”

”Preaching to the Choir, seems like few can see him if at all, magic swords and Aliens sure, I can touch them share them. But ghosts nope, just me and madness to anyone else.”

”Well, this one is a Fey Queen. But she may not be willing to help without something in exchange, I’ll have to prepare things. In the meantime Continue to practice.”

“For now eat your dinner and wash up for bed, before anything else happens.” The sound of forks slightly scraping the plates as food began to disappear.

With Eva sitting down for dinner, Abraham prepared his infiltration if one could call it that considering there was no security other than an alarm panel easily deactivated with all his skills breaking into places he doesn’t belong. The window slid open and as gently as one would pet a dog Abraham’s foot touched the carpet as he ducked inside, the Mansion lay abandoned sheets covered every piece of furniture and it was only barely warmer inside than it was out. He held a gem and walked around waiting for a reaction through the long halls, open rooms and past a fireplace he once saw in his Grandfather’s memories while logs sat waiting to be ignited. As he moved through the gem began to glow and glow stronger still as he got closer to a picture. “Looks like the girl in his memories, still. This is magic, it. It’s, I think it’s a Wonderland.” Carefully taking it from it’s spot on the shelf he sat it on the floor.”A little spell should break the magic field and open the portal, a pocket dimension huh. Not a bad place to hide something. Let’s see here.” Abraham rubbed his hands together and prepared himself. Hands hovered in front of the picture as words of power were spoken. “And OPEN! Well. Time to go in.”

As Abraham was about to enter, Merlin felt the opening of that portal since she was already searching for artifacts of power she could feel the residual energies emanating from the dimensional gate. ”Time for the Vanguard to do her work.” She said opening a portal to Eva’s room. ”Dress, an artifact of power has been discovered. You need to secure it before anyone else, it won’t be long till others arrive to claim it, already someone has entered a pocket dimension housing it.”

Eva gingerly lifted her head as she spat toothpaste into a sink.”Wahh.” Spitting more she turned to see Merlin standing there impatient. ”What do you mean, what’s this about a pocket dimensin thing?”

”Pocket Dimension. They are like my Library, and could house entire worlds depending upon how powerful the mage who created it was. The location can be seen through my orb, this is where’ll you’ll be headed.”

Eva’s eyes widened, as she saw her Grandfather’s mansion and a man entering a photo frame. ”Let me grab my Hoodie.” As Eva grabbed a blue hoodie she reached for a door handle and disappeared into the other side.

”More enthusiastic than I thought she’d be.” Merlin said as a cup of tea had already poured itself upon her return to her library. As Eva popped into her old room she made way towards the photo frame on the floor, as she had watched the man leap into it she had a fair idea of how it works. Taking a leap all her own while the world she knew was engulfed in crazy and the door to normalcy lay further and further beyond her reach. The flashing colors and twisting shapes rose to meet her as she tumbled into this other smaller world falling on top of the man who jumped in before her.

Eva sat up slowly as her body ached.”Oh bloody hell.” Taking stock of where she was she quickly realized something was off, and felt something move between her legs. As she was shoved aside.

“Get off me girl.” Abraham clutched his groin as he rocked steadily. “You kneed my nutts. Fuck, I use those you know.” Looking up he saw a sword pointed toward his face. “Oh, a magic sword, how quaint.”

”Well, it is pointed at something you kinda need more than your family jewels. What are you doing in my.. I mean this Mansion.”

“Hey, I. Yeah I know you. You're the girl in those pictures on the walls.”

”I. No. No I’m not, you have me confused.”

“No, I don’t, though.” Abraham stopped and Eva’s sword lowered as things creeped up on them. “We might have other pressing matters. Introductions later?”

”But they’re cute playing cards, I could stuff them in my pocket, how dangerous can th--” With a lunging stab dozens of miniature cards attacked in synch as tiny swords pierced Eva’s skin and with a wave of magic Abraham shoved them back as if a force of wind or gravity was thrown their way. ”Introductions later.” Eva said as she snapped into action.

While the night rose on the United States elsewhere Evil was afoot as Hound Dog patrolled the city of Pacific Point. With a cracking sound of a gun going off her vaulted onto the nearest telephone pole and rode atop of the wires levitating as he raced towards the docks as he neared he saw two odd things, something giving off far more electricity than a normal human could and another barely registering in his sight buried under the water, the latter caught his eyes more so due to how he could see the pattern of electrical signals were the same as his own. “Gotta floor it, that Clyde isn’t gonna make it.” Turning his sight to the fleeing presumed Villain he made a split second choice as he raced off towards the waterfront.

“Right O. How’ll this be done, could magnetically charge the boats assuming they’re close enough, or reverse the polarity of the water? I mean, maybe. Magnetically charging it to that degree is only hypothetical. But that car is pretty far down, and it’ll take too much time for the boats to lift it, if only I were closer. Right, plan B.” His arms crackled with an immense energy, more and more pent up electricity that his body could muster more than he could handle. His skin cracked as he discharged a burst much more powerful than he would normally allow. “ARRGH LIFT! LIFT!!” The water began to lift the car as he charged the various atoms surrounding the vehicle with inhuman precision enough to magnetically charge the ships around it and let them continue the rest as Hound Dog slumped to the ground breathing heavily as the car soon enough bobbed back up to the surface dragged along to a ship’s negative charge. “Right, time to bring it on home.” Lifting his hands again this time the car floated back to the docks. Water rushed out as he opened the door to check the passenger. “Cop, he’ll live. Need to get this water out but his pulse is still strong.”

Compressing the young officer’s chest he coughed up sea water as he said. “I can’t feel my legs, oh. Oh god. I can’t feel my fingers.”

Lyger had been lucky.

The tracker that he had placed on the thief at the museum had finally paid off, leading him to the safe house that the Winter Hill Gang had been able to keep hidden from him. He crouched in silence at the edge of the rooftop of the building directly across from the safe house, which had turned out to be nothing more than a warehouse near the docks.

Cliché much? When are these guys going to try something different? Lyger asked himself as he watched the movements within the warehouse through a pair of miniaturized high powered binoculars that Harry had developed.

He had been worried that the night he had spent with Sammy and her friends would set him back in his search for the thief and his employers. While it had taken several days for the tracker to pay off, he now had the location of the Winter Hill Gang’s safe house. He watched as a caravan of black sedans suddenly pulled up in front of the warehouse. There were four cars, each identical with the windows tinted.

Well, this is interesting. Lyger thought to himself as he watched the passengers emerge from the cars. One man above all else held his interest. He was a short, stocky man with a receding hairline and a slight overbite. From his research into the gang, he knew that this man could only be one person, Wilbur “Rabbit” Knox. The de-facto leader of the Winter Park Gang, who only answered to two men: Mick Sheeran, the undisputed leader of the Winter Park Gang, and the Cowl, who owned Sheeran. Lyger took his time as he assessed the situation. About a dozen men had gotten out of the cars, not counting Rabbit, and from what he could tell; there were at least three others inside, one of which was the thief from the museum.

Lyger slowly rose from his hiding spot and was about to fire a grapnel line from his wrist gauntlet to take him across the way where he would be able to take down the Winter Park Gang, and if he could take down Rabbit along with the rest, that might be a blow that the gang cannot recover from.

“Lyger, I need you back at The Garage.” Harry’s voice came over the com link.
“Not now. I can end this tonight.” Lyger responded.

“It can wait, I need you back at The Garage, now.” There was something in Harry’s voice that concerned him. There was a sense of urgency that he hadn’t heard before. “Fine. I’m on my way.”



Lyger pulled up a seat next to the computer array that Harry was sitting in front of and took off his mask. As he looked to his mentor, he noted that the older man had a look of deep concern on his face; it was a look that he hadn’t seen since D-Day. But there was something else in the way that he carried himself, a sense of sadness that he couldn’t quite place.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Kyle asked as he made eye contact with his mentor. Harry sat quietly for a moment as he pulled up the files on the computer. Finally, he looked met his protégé’s gaze. He pulled up a photo of a man who looked to be in his early to mid forties. Kyle didn’t know who the man was, but was curious to find out why he had Harry so shaken.

“This…” Harry started, then paused to take a deep breath. “This is Dr. Jason Miles. Up until recently, he was a sleep researcher at Acadia State Hospital, unfortunately, something went wrong with one of his experiments and he became an inmate at Acadia State Hospital. Three nights ago, he murdered an orderly and escaped. The Crown Ridge Police Department are keeping it quiet for now while they try to find him.”

“Alright, I--” Harry interrupted him.

“His mother is also a very good friend of mine. I’ve known Jason since he was nine years old. Kyle, you need to find him before the police do. They won’t hesitate to put him down if they think he’s a threat. You need to make sure that doesn’t happen. I owe it to his mother.” Harry told him.

“I’ll bring him in.” Kyle promised.

“Good. Now go.” Harry said. “And Kyle…take the car.”

---

Ben hopped up to the entrance and entered through the grand entrance door, his hand twisted the latch before he pushed inward. The door barely made a sound to betray his arrival home. Still feeling physically and emotionally drained, his arm twisted back before his back slammed the door back into place. The sound echoed throughout the foyer and family room as he leaned backwards. Letting the vibration die within his spine, his neck raised up into goosebumps causing him to jerk his eyes upright. Daniel’s girlfriend was leaned against the farthest pillar, one of four that divided the foyer from the family room, nursing a wine glass filled to the top. Her spidery hand cradled the base then swished it about. The pale gold liquid rotated about, wetting the glass walls and finally settled down when she took a small sip.

How he had missed her on his way?

The question mocked him slightly, hinting at his sloppiness and distraction, as he eyed the ‘lioness’ on the prowl. She cleverly blocked his path to his escape and eyed him hungrily, her wine glass casually being sipped. Her figure pushed from her perch as her long legs casually snaked from underneath her thigh short skirt, a seductive tactic that had easily worked on Daniel but it wouldn't with Benjamin. The teenager’s upper lip curled in disgust and managed to lock his eyes into place with hers. A flicker of displeasure darted over the woman's’ irises, scorned by his resistance rather than falling under her heel and into line like the rest. Every stride told him she was use to being in control and would accept nothing less.

Benjamin pushed off the door when she came within his personal space, her high heels stopped their clicking about a foot away. Her hand raised to push her voluminous blonde hair, curled by a recent prim, back over her shoulder. She then crossed her free arm over her too narrow midriff while she managed to uphold her plastic mask about being pleased to see him. The moment her words left her lips, he knew exactly what her motivations were behind waiting for him.

“Benjamin, you and I need to talk. Your Father-”

“Daniel,” Benjamin corrected her, watching mindfully her lip twitch and her grip tightened over her wine glass, before he continued, “I only call him father when the paparazzi and important guests are around. Being his girlfriend, I assumed he would’ve made that clear.”

She twitched at his purpose bard hidden in his word choice, noting she was neither important or a guest worth trying to retain the illusion they were a happy family. Lorrie inhaled then resumed her words, bluntly ignoring his preference, with a subtle edge to her tone, “Nevertheless, he is your father, Ben, and nothing will change that. Now, putting your little teenager rebellion aside, we have a very special guest arriving this evening. Mr. Vanderbilt, a very influential man, and I need you to be on your top and best behavior for dinner. Can you do that?”

Benjamin tensed when she called him by his nick, the only ones ever allowed were his mother or those close to him. He inhaled then let out an exhausting sigh before he addressed her, “I think I can manage…”

His figure moved toward the stairway. He didn’t get far. With a soft thump of her wine glass, Lorrie’s manicured claws came to rest on his shoulder and promptly dug in warningly through his shirt. Surprised by the aggression, she lowered her head near his ear then whisper in a tone far from the pleasant front she gave to everyone. Her scorpion raised to the surface while the point of her tail curled around to the wolf’s throat, ready to deliver a final blow if she wanted.

“Do not cross me, Ben, or I will make your life a living hell. I will not let you, him or anyone get in my way to gain what I deserve. Now, I want you presentable so go pick out something that makes you look handsome. I’ll send Emma up shortly to help with your hair,” Lorrie flicked one of his disheveled bangs and pulled away. Her seductive and charming tone returned almost immediately while she turned to collect her wine, a smirk deep in her eyes, “Do we have an understanding now?”

“Crystal,” Benjamin said in surprising calm, “May I be dismissed?”

“Of course,” Lorrie made a smug expression as she began to slither to the kitchen. Her tight black dress hugged every curve and if not for her poisonous personality, Benjamin might’ve actually appreciated it. Or so he thought, his attention redirected and he moved into the stairs to vanish into his room for the rest of the afternoon.

The echoing patter of heavy fabric against concrete was the only sound in the room, the dense rope repeatedly swinging up and under the soldier indicated what he was up to. Joseph was jumping rope with a length of very heavy rope with dumbbells for the grips, a bit over the top but efficient at what it was meant for. Every swing of the rope was matched by a quick hop in place, allowing it to pass under his feet. While it looked silly, it was somewhat therapeutic to the soldier.

The thump and echo, not even a single moment separated, the thought of something so fast was exciting. The thought that there are two set concepts, the speed of sound and the speed of light. They fascinated him, they were so inconceivably fast. The idea that they were attainable by metahumans was horrifying and awe inspiring simultaneously.

They're dangerous, more dangerous than even he himself. The Soldier's mind ran on and on with these thoughts as he hopped in place, the rhythmic motions of his body drawing out more and more thoughts. These thoughts undermining his confidence and planting seeds of distress, but he did not fear.

Fear is the mind killer, that little death that brings absolute destruction.

And The Legate knew no fear, for he was strong. Strong enough to overcome adversity, and prepared for whatever task could conceivably lie ahead.

In this moment he turned his face to the door, beyond it there were the footsteps of two. . .No, three men. Down the hallway their footsteps grew louder and louder, halting before reaching his door.

The Legate stopped his jumping, set down the rope, and moved towards the door. Unlocking it from his side before moving back to the center of the room. The footsteps resumed and there came a knock as he grabbed his chair.

To the door, "Come in." The Legate spun the chair, turning the back to the door and mounting it in reverse. Resting his upper arms on the back, his eyes lazily remaining half closed. The pupils in there focusing to pinholes on the men that entered.

Two suits and military brass, the sort of folks that drop in every now and then to deliver a mission. Same stuff, some country had someone they didn't like. Some despot needed killing, some slaver needed capturing, simple stuff. Today the suits had something special in mind, no paperwork.

No, they had a tablet in hand. A video needed watching, they had something special in mind.

The man on the left spoke after thoughtfully clearing his throat. "Soldier, you are tasked with a particularly unique mission. One of some importance, considering the topic at hand."

"Please, show me." He said, his eyes fixated on the black screen.

They turned the tablet around and pressed play, the pupils of the legate widened into enormous black holes. Swallowing all of the color in his eyes. "It can't be. . ."

Zac collapsed face first onto the couch in their apartment since he was relieved that they were now home. Not only did they had a five-hour drive from Crown Ridge to Albany, but the escapades of the previous night would have worn out almost anyone. There was the robbery at the art museum. Then the three of them ran into Lyger and had to escape with him from both a local criminal organization and the city’s police force. While they did reach the safety of Lyger’s home, there was always that annoying fear that the criminals might have discovered their identities and therefore would have been able to attack them when they were least expecting it. Luckily, that never happened.

“What’s this?” Zac heard Sammy say. He sat up from his reclining position and glanced over the back of the couch to see what Sammy was referring to. In her hand, Sammy was holding a black ring that had what looked like a tiny diamond attached. “I hope you were not intending to propose with this thing, because that rock has ‘cheapskate’ written all over it.”

Zac stared at the ring with a befuddled expression for a few moments. He knew that ring was not his. However, he also did not want his response to come off sounding as if he was not interested in marrying Kelly someday.

“I cannot comment on the whole proposing thing, but I definitely did not buy that specific ring.” Zac finally made his response.

“Then whose is it?” Kelly took a closer look at the ring that her best friend was holding.

Sammy then noticed a small note on the countertop that she had first overlooked. Her eye naturally gravitated directly towards the jewelry instead the small sheet of paper. On that note, Sammy saw her name written on it and signed only with ‘from a friend’. She immediately guessed that this gift was from Lyger, who had promised that he would try to find some sort of device that would hide Sammy’s cat ears and tail. She first wondered why he would leave it her instead of her own apartment. However, she quickly concluded that Lyger probably did not know where she lived and therefore only could leave it at Zac and Kelly’s apartment.

“Don’t put that on.” Zac said as he jumped over the back of his apartment’s couch when he saw Sammy begin to slip the ring onto her finger, “We don’t know where that came from!”

However, Zac was just too late to make an objection. Sammy already placed the ring around her forth finger. Suddenly, all three of them heard something clank against the floor, as if it had been dropped. They discovered that it was the small device that Sammy (and Kelly) used to allow their animal-like tails to fit their clothes without cutting holes into their entire wardrobe. Sammy instinctively reached back to check what had happened to her tail. However, she was shocked to find that it was no longer there. Her hands then reached up to the top of her head, where she also learned that her cat ears were gone, too! Sliding her hands down the side of her head, she felt her old human ears for the first time in months.

“Kyle did it!” Sammy shouted in joy, “He got me something that can hide my powers!”

“I really need to get a security system installed in this apartment. Everyone and their brother has broken into this place now.” Zac whispered to Kelly as they watched their friend prance around the living room, as if she had just won the lottery.

“And it’s a ring, too!” Sammy blurred out as she held out her hand with the palm of her hand facing the floor. “Isn't that romantic?”

“I knew he would screw this up somehow.”

“What?” Sammy snapped at Zac when she heard his comment, wondering what he meant by that.

“He didn’t mean anything back that, didn’t you.” Kelly tried to save face with her best friend, although from the expression on Sammy’s face, she was not buying it.

“You two told him to tell me that we couldn’t be together, didn’t you!” Sammy yelled at her two friends. “You didn’t believe I could handle the situation, didn’t you! Well, I hate you both!”

Sammy then stomped out of the apartment and slammed the front door shut with a crash. Zac and Kelly just traded glances as they wondered how the situation could have gone even just a little better. However, they were surprised when they saw that the door creeped open again and Sammy’s head popped through the opening of the door.

"Alright, I don’t hate you two.” Sammy apologized. “I kind of need a ride home.”

"We interrupt our current story to bring you a special news bulletin. Chaos has erupted in the streets as the street gang known as the Neo-Ronin are in the process of a major crime spree. We turn to our anchor in the field for more on this story."

"Thanks Tony. We're here at the scene of the crime where criminals have held up the Fey National Bank here at Pearl Lane, escaping the scene with a stolen armored truck. The culprits are suspected to be the Neo-Ronin, a street gang which have risen to prominence following their theft of high tech weaponry during the recent Game Genie crisis. This is the latest in a string of theft these hoodlums have participated in, but this time the police have reason to suspect that these thieves are in league with a local metahuman criminal. No matter the case, while the police insist that the matter is being well handled, people are hoping that these thieves will draw out the latest hero to take up residence in Pacific Point, the alien heroine known as..."

Voyager

"Chikushō!" the masked Neo-Ronin swore as the armored car gave a sharp turn, nearly throwing him off the roof. "Hanzo, who taught you how to fucking drive!?!"

"You want me to show down and let them shoot you?" Hanzo screamed back, inadvertently making his point by ducking his head back inside the window to dodge a hail of gunfire from the pursuing police.

"I'd settle for trying not to throw us off the damned truck!" another masked thug riding the roof of the car retorted, raking the pursuers with gunfire. "Where's our support anyway, we called in riders fifteen minutes ago."

"Not like we really need 'em," came a female voice from the passenger's side, followed by a loud bang as something was launched from the same window with a soft 'foomp'. It struck the hood of a squad car with a static crackle and arced electricity across the body. The roof riders winced as a fireball erupted from the engine block of the pursuing car as it rapidly dropped out of the chase. "But a little backup would be nice if she shows up again," the woman continued, ducking into the truck to avoid a retaliatory volley.

Screeching tires nearly drowned out the sirens and the gunfire as the car made another sharp turn onto a residential street, only to be joined by the roar of motors as two motorcycles pulled in from the side streets, their riders wearing yellow riding jackets with kanji on the backs. Giving their friends in the truck a quick thumbs-up, the pair of them drew out machine pistols and backed up to engage the cop cars. The two masked Neo-Ronin shouted curses at the police in celebration before the first rider's bike exploded underneath him in a burst of color, flinging him away. The second rider swerved only to meet the same fate, tumbling head over heels before landing in a pile of garbage outside of an apartment complex. Both of the Neo-Ronin recognized the purple afterglow of those explosions.

"What the hell happened?" Hanzo the driver demanded.

"Shut up and drive! Before-"

"Domo arigato!"

The vehicle swerved dangerously as the purple and black-clad Voyager made her three-point landing on the roof of the speeding truck, the Psibarriers on her legs still crackling with energy as she stood up. Smiling confidently at the awestruck Neo-Ronin, she started to charge up her energy, the steady glow of her Psionics reflecting off her new purple-tinted goggles.

"I like the truck but I do not think you nice people are using it properly."

Swinging their guns around to attack, the Neo-Ronin were put on the defensive as the half-alien blasted the weapons out of their hands. Taking a moment to wag her finger at them like a scolding parent, she effortlessly dodged under a wild hay-maker from the first. Throwing up a Psibarrier to block a sword swipe from the second, she swept the legs of the first thug and aimed a double Psiblast at the sword wielder, blasting him off the roof and into a hedge surrounding a statue the chase took them by.Hearing an audible click behind her, she ducked in time as a spindly ball fired by the passenger sailed over her head and exploded into a net that wrapped around the statue, responding with a blind Psiblast at the fancy weapon the passenger held

"<Son of a bitch!>" the girl swore in Japanese as the weapon was nearly blasted out of her hand. "<You stupid alien bimbo, I'm going to rip off your tentacles and-!>"

"<That's not very polite!>" Voyager responded, flinging another Psiblast which only narrowly missed the rude gesture the passenger was making. "<If Fullbright hears you say that she is going to be upset, you know!>"

Almost on cue, the hatch on the roof swung open and someone started clambering out. Voyager waited for a pair of steel-clad hands to emerge and shielded her eyes in advance, but was surprised when four fuzzy arms gripped the sides of the hatch instead, followed by a muscular tarantula girl in a tank top.

"...Fangs?" the half-alien asked in disbelief. "But I thought Fullbright was..."

"Brighty has the flu!" Fangs gleefully reported, flexing her arms and stretching up to her full height, a whole head taller then Voyager. "She said if I took over I could have half of the haul!"

"That was nice of he-urrrk!" Voyager said, cut short as one of Fangs' extra arms landed in her stomach, winding her. "I thought she gave away everything she stole."

"Well she said a quarter, but hey I deserve half, I'm doing all the work!" Fangs admitted, hoisting Voyager overhead only for the half-alien to stagger her with a Psiblast and slip out of her grip.

"Well, I guess that's fair." Voyager scrambled to her feet and threw up her Psibarriers in time to see Fangs effortlessly rip the hatch off the top and throw it at her, barely missing and smashing into someone's expensive new car. Already off-balance from the dodge, the car swerved at high speed again as Voyager felt her legs give out as she nearly tumbled off the side, only for Fangs to bound over, grab her by the leg, and yank her back onto the roof with a violent thud.

"Whew, thanks," Voyager said breathlessly. "Quite noble of you!"

"Can't have you getting away before I pound you fair and square!" Fangs declared, her sharp teeth gleaming as she charged in again.

"Okay, slightly less noble, but I will take." Trading Psibarrier for blow in a flurry of movement, Voyager nearly got the upper hand before Fangs cracked her furry head into her, stunning her long enough to grapple her with all four arms, wrapping around the half-alien's arms and legs

"Better luck next time, Squids!" Fangs said smugly. Looking around, she noticed the truck coming up to a street alongside the pier, where the water was within throwing distance. "Hmm...how about a little dip in the ocean?"

"Maybe...ergh...later?" Voyager struggled to say.

"Nah, I could use a workout," the tarantula girl said, winding up for the toss. "Have a nice swim!"

"Don't worry boss I got her!" The Neo-Ronin in the cab poked her head out with the launcher in hand, ready to fight. Seizing an opening, Voyager charged and fired her Psibeam at the weapon. With a shriek the Neo-Ronin discharged the launcher, which struck the much larger Fangs square in the chest. Realizing what had happened, Fangs had just enough time to give the Neo-Ronin a look of utter contempt before the bomb detonated, launching the cussing Tarantula girl into the ocean. At a lost for words, the Neo-Ronin girl did nothing but turn white as a sheet as Voyager got to her feet and made an acrobatic leap into the passenger side window, landing in the space between the getaway driver and the shell-shocked passenger.

"Well, Fangs is gonna be ticked once she gets back, will she not?" Voyager said to the driver, who was unsure how to react to the conversational tone. "Oh, and could you pull over?"

Glancing briefly between Voyager and his passenger, who was still pale as a sheet and staring forward blankly, he gave in with a tired sigh. "Okay, you win, I'll stop. I hate working with these guys anyway."

"Yeah, they do not seem reliable..."

"Tell me about it. Um, could you scooch over though? You're sitting in the way of the gear shift."

---

"...and if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you by the state," the officer finished reciting as he cuffed the last Neo-Ronin. "Do you understand the rights I have read you?"

"Yes!"

"...I'm talking to them, Voyager."

"Oh right, sorry," Voyager said with a slight blush.

"Right...well, did you?"

"Yes," the Neo-Ronin crowded into the back of the police van chorused as the getaway driver took his spot in between a slime-covered biker and the still shell-shocked passenger. The doors were slammed shut as the van started to pull away, heading back down the pier side road.

"Thanks again for your help, Voyager," one of the policemen stepped in. "Couldn't have gotten them without you."

"Aw, it was nothing," Voyager grinned, crossing her legs shyly.

"Shame we couldn't get Fangs into custody, though," the first officer grumbled. "We're searching the water, but I wouldn't be surprised if she was long gone by now."

"We will get her eventually, do not be discouraged!" Voyager said confidently before glancing at the setting sun. "Oh hu'tegh, it is getting late, I need to get going. See you guys later!" The policemen waved after her as she ran off before they began returning to their vehicles.

"...was she speaking Klingon?" one of the cops asked his partner as they piled into the cruiser.

"Trying too hard to keep up the alien gimmick," the partner concluded. "Well, at least she's on our side."

"Damn right. Donut?"

In the days since she foiled the bank robbery in LA, Amanda had been on Cloud Nine. Never in a million years had she dreamed that would ever be able to make a difference the way that now could because of the powers she received from the Meta Domes all those months ago. In the days since she debuted in LA, putting an end to a brazen bank robbery, she found herself running her way all the way up and down the California coast, doing everything that she could to help. Her deeds varied from stopping muggers and minor crime, to preventing an out of control school bus from driving through the children waiting for their ride to school.

For the first time in her life, Amanda truly felt alive.

She had been having dinner with her friend Gemma and her roommate Izzy when she found her mind wandering. Since her powers had manifested, Amanda found it difficult to stay in one place for too long. She got antsy and always wanted to be on the move. While she knew that she really should stay and hang out with her friends, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it, and soon found herself out zipping through the streets of Pacific Point. She made her way to some of her favorite spots in the city, Pacific Point Pier just in time to watch the sun sink beneath the Pacific, then to the bluffs, which gave, in her opinion the best panoramic view of the coast in all of California. Then she made her way to where it all began for her, Huntington Park. It was here that she had first discovered her newfound abilities as she saved an oblivious old man from a dubious fate of man sized roadkill.

She smiled as she remembered the man’s baffled expression as she pulled him to safety. However, it was a smile cut short as she heard a disturbance in the distance. She looked in the direction of the disturbance, but at first didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. However, upon closer inspection, she noticed a white van parked at the end of a nearby alley way next to Tornadoes, a popular night spot just on the other side of the park. The van itself was nondescript and looked like it could easily be driven by a local creeper who drove around offering popsicles to children, but that notwithstanding, nothing seemed off about it.

At least until she heard the screaming.

Without even thinking she dashed off toward the van, and as she approached it, she saw that there was indeed something very wrong. There were four men, each of whom appeared to be heavily armed. They had grabbed a man and were forcing him into the back of the van. As Amanda got closer, she saw that the man appeared to be a meta human with reptilian features. He had scaly skin and lizard like eyes, and he looked absolutely terrified. One of the four armed men struck the meta human in the back of the head with the butt of what looked like a shotgun, causing the reptile man to go slack before two of the others grabbed him and dragged him to the back of the van.

“Not tonight, creeps!” She said as she darted toward the men, lowering her shoulder into the chest of the man who had hit the meta with the gun, a blow that sent the man flying backward about a dozen yards before crashing hard to the ground.

She zipped around the other three men, striking at them with fists and elbows, knocking the men to the ground as she moved around the van, looking like a purple streak to anyone looking on. Once the four armed thugs were incapacitated, Slipstream made her way to the back of the van and found not only the reptile man that she had been trying to save, but at least a half a dozen others. She assumed that they were all meta humans, though not all of them had such obvious physical traits as the reptilian.

She was about to tell them that it was all going to be alright, that she was going to get them out of there when the van suddenly and violently rocked, as if someone, or something were getting out of the vehicle.
“I wondered how long it would take for one of you to show up.” A voice shot from around the side of the van. Slipstream peered around the side of the van toward the source of the voice and took a step back when she saw the mountain of a man that it belonged to.

By her estimation, he stood around six foot nine inches tall, and was thickly built. If she had to guess, she would say that he probably weighed around three hundred and sixty pounds, and though he was a large man, he didn’t look like he had an ounce of fat on his body.

Well shit, I thought this was too easy. Slipstream thought to herself as she sprinted toward the man, hoping to catch him off guard. However, he had been ready for her. Before she had taken off toward him, the large man slapped his hands together in a downward facing angle. The impact of his hands coming together created a shockwave which caused the ground beneath her to buckle and jolt. The sudden movement of the ground beneath her feet caused her to lose her footing, and instead of running toward the man, she found herself slamming hard into the side of the van, then spinning to the ground where she hit her head on the pavement.

“Heh. Too easy. I’m embarrassed for you sweetheart, but the Hounds are just gonna love you.” He said as he took a step toward her.

Isaac was abruptly jolted out of his sleep from the blaring noise of his alarm clock. Instinctively, he reached over and slammed the snooze button on the clock. Once his wake-up call had been silenced, he closed his eyes for a few moments before he tried to place his arm around his wife. However, as he reached over where he thought his wife was sleeping, Isaac suddenly felt his hand brush against a wall. Since he was startled from this, he immediately sat up in his bed and was shocked at what he saw.

He was sleeping in a full-size bed instead of a king, as he had remembered. He also could tell that he no longer was in the quaint home where he lived with his wife and daughter. Instead, he found himself in a cramped apartment. It was furnished in a Spartan style, since there was barely any furniture. In his confusion, Isaac threw off his covers and searched around the small abode, calling out his wife and daughter’s names, although in vain.

Thinking that he might have gone crazy, Isaac went to the one place that probably had all the answers: the internet. However, when he booted up the laptop in his apartment, he was surprised that the operating system was Windows 10 since he knew that it was several years old now. Once his desktop had finished loading up on the screen, the date at the bottom right corner seemed impossible. Although he did not believe it, the computer said that he was a decade in the past. Either the computer’s internal clock was just ten years slow or he had somehow gone back in time.

Next, he typed his wife’s name, Caroline, into the search engine. He was horrified at the results. He knew that in two years, Caroline and he were married and had their daughter, Lizzy, only a year later. But if what Caroline’s obituary said was true, she somehow died in a demon invasion of Lost Haven. Denial began to set in as Isaac came to terms with what he saw. This could not be true. But what could explain this? Could he had slipped into a parallel universe or something? But was that not just a fantasy made up by fiction writers?

Isaac’s mind raced in his head. He wondered how he could fix this situation, if it was even fixable in the first place. He racked his brain in hopes of thinking of anyone would could possibly know how to fix it. Finally, he found one name: Christopher Arthur. He remembered that Mr. Arthur was a technological genius and, if anyone could help Isaac get home, it would be him. After he learned about Mr. Arthur’s whereabouts for the night, he scavenged around his apartment for his costume and equipment. He had not donned those tights for almost a decade. He promised Caroline that he would give up the mercenary work, especially when he had a daughter to take care of. Normally, his wife would have been furious if Isaac had taken up his old job. But since he was doing it to get her and his little girl back, she would just have to allow this one to slide.

---

Chris stood in front of a mirror while he finished adjusting his bow tie. He, along with many other people of great importance, had been invited to a private event in Pacific Point. Although he was socially obligated to make an appearance at the event, it never specified when he had to do so. Sure, there was an official start time, but who arrives at parties right when the doors open? Chris indeed had other plans in mind for his arrival time.

“So, how do I look?” Chris turned his attention away from the mirror towards Maya. She wore a red dress that matched her fiery hair, along with the ruby that hung on a necklace around her neck.

“Words cannot describe how magnificent you look.” Chris sweet talked Maya. “I guess that’s why people say that a picture is worth a thousand words.”

“So, what thousand words would you use?” Maya joked with Chris.

The luxury hotel where they were staying in Pacific Point not only had a beautiful view of the city, but also the sea front, too. Even though it was already growing dark, Pacific Point was still bustling with activity. This, however, was not a surprise to Chris and Maya, since they were going to a party latter that night. The dazzling skyline was just a marvel to gaze at. It seemed the two were having a moment together, until George, Chris’ butler appeared.

“Master Christopher. You have a call from S.T.R.I.K.E.” He interrupted Chris and Maya.

“I swear they always come crying for my help at the most inopportune times.” Chris sighed, knowing that he needed to ditch Maya for a while as he dealt with whatever S.T.R.I.K.E. wanted. He could tell from Maya’s sad expression on her face that she knew that he was going to be busy for a little bit. However, he tried to console her for this inconvenience. “Don’t worry. While punctuality isn’t my strong suit, I am a man of my word. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

With a kiss goodbye, at least for now, Chris went with George so that he could make his way to the local ST.R.I.K.E. headquarters, leaving Maya behind.

---

For the last month or so, S.T.R.I.K.E. had been trying to track a new speedster on the West Coast. Not only are speedsters difficult to track, but they are also potentially dangerous too, especially if they’re not playing for the good guys. The effectiveness of the process that S.T.R.I.K.E. used to follow this new hero could be likened to the technique that astronomers used to discover exoplanets. Since you could not see the exoplanet with one’s naked eye, astronomers have to rely on the miniscule dimming of a star to locate one of these extraterrestrial planets. In the same way, since this speedster was moving so fast, S.T.R.I.K.E. could only see short blinks of where this metahuman was.

But tonight, STRIKE seemed to luck out this time. Through their massive intelligence resources, they learned that this metahuman was in Pacific Point. Agents on the ground was able to quickly confirm the sighting and call in for backup. Regular agents would be no match for a lot of metahuamns, let alone one who can run at supersonic speeds. This was where Chris came in.

When he arrived at the scene of the sighting, Chris discovered two peculiar individuals next to a large, white van: a girl wearing a neon-purple wig and a giant of a man who probably would put the Kingpin from Marvel comics to shame with his muscle mass. He made an educated guess that the man was probably not the speedster.

“Heh. Too easy. I’m embarrassed for you sweetheart, but the Hounds are just gonna love you.” The burly man taunted the girl, who was lying on the pavement of the street.

“Hey, haven’t you heard? I get first crack at the ladies around here, so get in line!”

“Finally, a real challenge.” The man boasted.

“Actually, can you just surrender now and go quietly? I’ve got places to be and stopping street crimes is a little overkill for me. What do you say?”

Instead of saying anything, the man instead began to charge towards Chris. Although it took him a little bit to get to running speed, Chris could tell without all of his technology in his armor that he had quite the weight behind his momentum

“Well, I guess that answers that!”

David’s vision blurred at first, but the evening light helped ease his awakening, as he awoke he felt the gentle rocking of the ocean waves and the sounds of a small radio near the steering wheel. “Where am I?” David asked, still looking around lazily. “Lost Haven, Maine. Where’d you come in from, a fishing boat further off?” The man asked as he helped David into an upright position, throwing a towel on him only a few seconds later.

“I don’t know where I came from, or how I got into the water. I don’t even own a boat” David replied as he rubbed his forehead. But I remember I don’t need a boat to get around.

“I’ll take you to a hospital to get checked up, what’s your name? I’m George Miller, and this is my son Thomas Miller.”

“I’m David Anderson Jones, David is fine though.”

“Well David, do you have any idea what it is you were holding on to? It doesn't look like any boat or raft I've ever seen.” The man asked as he pulled in the debris David had been floating on. Giving it a good once over, it looked like a piece of a larger part, like a wing or a fin. “No, I can’t really say what it is, if I ever knew.” David replied as George let go of the piece into the water. Vague images of a large whale or eel like creature flowed into his mind.

“Wow dad look at this!” Thomas yelled as he shoved his phone screen into his dad’s face. “Some weird hero just beat up this weird monster, which I could a seen it myself.” Thomas continued shoving it into his father’s face, and even David’s before pulling it back into his grasp. The picture Thomas was showing around was of a battle in the streets between a monster of some kind, and a green person. What kind of costume is that, and are weird monsters like that really so common? David thought to himself.

A few minutes after George began packing, all three of them had taken a seat in his truck. It looked like Thomas was being squeezed into the back. “I feel fine really; just drop me somewhere with a phone. I’m just wet is all, I have a friend in here in Lost Haven who I can call.” David spoke as he shifted slightly in the towel George gave him earlier.

“Well where is he, I’ll drop you off. With all these super powered fights going on I’d be a terrible role model if I just left you out on the street.” George offered as he stopped the car before a red light.

“Last time I checked he worked as a professor for the Lost Haven University.”

“We have time to make the trip.” George said as he signaled a turn, eagerly stepping on the gas. After a half hour of being lost and trying to get through the evening traffic, George finally found the university. Students walked about eagerly chatting with each other as they went from class or where on their way to leave. “Thank you for your help.” David uttered as he took off his borrowed towel, he was no longer dripping wet, but he still felt cold from his damp clothes.

David walked around campus looking for the archaeology college, for what seemed like hours, stopping the occasional student for directions. By the time he reached his destination it was full blown night time, only the most desperate of students were around by now. The door in front of David led to one of the few fellow archaeologists he had spoken too on his last visit, the sign next to the door read “Dr. Carmine Williams.” Making sure to knock on the door David entered, the man inside looked up, after checking his eyes Carmine began to speak stuttering at first. “D-David J-Jones, Is that really you? I heard you went missing last year, where were you?”

“A whole year, it’s been a whole year?” David blinked dumbfounded in response.

_{banner credit to Hellis}



---

Time: Present Day - Afternoon
Location: Las Vegas, Nevada

“We have landed at North Las Vegas Airport, remember to pick up your luggage and I hope you enjoyed your flight!”

A short but completely avoidable journey at its end, a Polish man picked up his noticeably scant luggage in the form of a single backpack and stepped out into the blazing heat. A prompt ride in a bus with laughing tourists, his head aching from lack of proper sleep, and finally he was alone again. With a feeling of relief, the criminal allowed his aura to expel itself into his surroundings, the tension of keeping it locked tight for over seven hours having really grated on his nerves. Still, needs must, and at least he’d arrived in Vegas. He’d always wanted to see Vegas before he died, so much sin and theft on such a grand scale, how could he resist?

The problem was this was hostile territory for Silence. His contacts in the area were scant, just a couple of people to be honest, enough to get his hands on a firearm within an hour and a rental car that had been lent out on an untraceable fake name. Driving around in a pale blue family car wasn’t likely to attract much attention out here, but if needs be, it could be used for a speedy get-away. At least for him. The other two could find their own way out of trouble, he was sure.

Pulling in for some refreshments, the Pole sat in a McDonalds car-park and texted the Ambassador.

Ms F,
I am in town, want to meet up for coffee?
-L

Suspicious to the point of paranoia, as per usual, Silence didn’t trust the unsecured line enough to ask for his ally’s direct location. They could meet somewhere and discuss details like that in person.

Short hours had passed quickly for Mandate, Odette and Bach. Her fey partner had grown rather wary since their arrival to Las Vegas, he commented how he felt an overwhelmingly large presence of a witch coven. Bach was more sensitive to high concentrations of magic.

While The Ambassador ate, rested and scouted out the warehouse locations. A few she discovered were distribution centres. The centres were mainly set for shipping and receiving. Whatever arrived was later shipped off into storage or another location. The warehouse she was looking for was a rather large one set up for long term storage. It took her some time to observe, but she found success.

A text from Lekh, she quickly replied with.

Oh! ¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫
I feel like I’ve been waiting f-o-r-e-v-e-r for you to visit me.
Coffee would be great! (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑
-`ღ´- I’m on the East end,
this cute little restaurant on the edge of the industrial area -`ღ´-
See you soon~ <3

She sent the text along with their current address a few blocks away from the warehouse, following his lead in obscurity. It had irritated her initially that he still decided to take a silly plane over the much more convenient portal door. It did, arguably, give her some time to catch her breath and rest for the next part of their plan. The mess they left in Lost Haven splashed across the news headlines, police puzzled over the scene. Who could have possibly been to responsible for the multiple murders? Who could be capable of crushing bones and desiccation...etc. Such a scene would keep Barron’s attention on Lost Haven while they slipped past his defences and pilfer valuable magical items.

Odette, Bach and Mandate sat outside at a patio table, idly fanning herself with the drink menu. “Lekh texted me. He is finally here. We’ll be moving soon.” She said sipping her iced tea. It was insufferably dry and hot, the neon lights, tourists… this city of sin held no class, no history; just excess. Perfect for the likes of Barron to take root in.

Silence stared at his phone for a few moments. That, is an excessive amount of emoticons. He decided finally, after summarising that it probably wasn’t a code but rather the Ambassador being flippant. With a sigh, he pulled out a map he’d borrowed from his associate in town and looked across it for the restaurant the Ambassador was talking about. It took him a little while, but knowing where they were hitting helped. Obviously, the Ambassador had settled close to the warehouse, and from there he could find the street she had referred him to.

Putting the map to one side, already familiar with his route, Silence reversed out of the bay in his people carrier and drove into the hubbub of Las Vegas. Albeit, a little outside of the usual touristy areas, and therefore not into a complete standstill at every street corner. It took him the better part of an hour still, travel in Las Vegas was a pain in the ass, he discovered. Like most big cities the world over.

Parking up outside the restaurant, Silence paused for a moment to check himself over. He’d changed since the ambush at the trainyard, and again after leaving the plane. Now he was just an average joe tourist, in loose beige cargo pants and a light blue polo, sunglasses over his eyes because the sun was just so damn bright out here. Deserts, what can you do?

Walking in, the criminal folded up his glasses and hung them in the v of his collar, looking around for his associates. He assumed the Golem wouldn’t be inside though, not unless the Ambassador could disguise her somehow.

Odette removed her straw wide brimmed hat peering across the tables noticing Lekh, the chameleon of a man had changed again. She waved him over, since their arrival to Vegas she had changed outfits as well. Picking from clothing stored away in her purse, avidly prepared wherever she ended up. She wore a loose white cotton blouse unbuttoned, with sleeves rolled up, beneath it she wore a black crop top, high waisted blue jean shorts, and white gladiator sandals.

Bach was taking his restlessness out on the poor unsuspecting waitresses and their customers. Making them trip, switching food, pranking the customers. It was silly and Odette didn't possess the need nor want to stop him.

Mandate sat across from her having resumed her glamoured disguise as a large yet plainly dressed human. To any roaming eyes, they were tourists relaxing after a day of sightseeing. A glass of water sat in front of Mandate, untouched. In sharp contrast to the pleasant humming escaping her ‘lips’, Mandate’s glamour presented the same dead, emotionless eyes as ever, peering around listlessly as her fingers gently drummed the table. It only took a few moments for her eyes to snap to the man to whom Miss Ambassador waved, of course, and the drumming and humming ceased.

Lekh’s eyes roamed the room until he spotted the Ambassador, just as she took off her large floppy hat. Raising a hand in greeting, he bypassed some overly helpful staff and made his way to their table, seemingly at ease in his surroundings. He paused in front of their table just long enough to pull out a chair, and then sat down, a smile briefly flickering across his face.

“How ya’ll doin?” He asked, settling into an American accent for their current surroundings were far from private, and his natural accent might draw the wrong sort of attention. It would be unwise to underestimate the Barron in his own territory. As he awaited their replies, his finger rose up to the waiter and he flagged him down for a drink. “I’ll have a glass a Tennessee whiskey if ya got it waiter, anything but Jack Daniels’ll be fine, thankya.”

Odette stared at Lekh and his new accent, arching one of her eyebrows at him. She wasn’t far off the mark thinking of him as a chameleon. Instead of laughing she said, “Lovely, thank you for asking. You’re later than I expected.” She leaned a little closer, “Regardless, I’ve kept myself busy. Visited a few tourist traps today, but there’s one more souvenir shop I want to shop around in, if you would like to join me. It has a few trinkets I think you’d be interested in.”

She smiled herself playing along. In a city of this size, three people could be easily unrecognized as the next. The Barron is looking for faceless goons in Lost Haven, he has no reason to suspect the culprits would be sitting right under his nose only a few hours after the deed. She sipped her iced tea, a basket of french fries sat in front of her, half of it eaten.

At least he wasn’t wearing jeans again, but still no cufflinks.

“Oh yeah? How’s the place lookin, busy at all?”

“At the moment? No, not busy surprisingly. I was expecting more sales associates on duty but could only account for seeing a good handful across the store.” She said, “I’m sure they must be of the more senior staff members. More capable.” She popped a cold fry in her mouth.

“I’m full, do you want some?” Nudging the basket his way the waiter arrived with Lekh’s drink.

“Cold fries? Think’ll pass miss. Glad to hear the place ain’t too busy, when d’ya reckon we should go?”

She shrugged replacing her hat shifting back in her seat again to allow the waiter to place the drink on the cardboard coaster, “Finish your drink, there’s no hurry.” She meant that, from her observations she counted for some vampires strolling through the shadowy areas of the warehouse while she had spotted a mage radiating energy from the arcane stream.

To avoid security would be preferable, stealth would be imperative.

“So, how was your flight?”

“Not bad, not bad.” He took a sip of his whiskey in-between, the only sign of his distaste a slight furrowing of his brow. This wasn’t what Poles drink nor how they drink it. His eyes wandered over to Mandate sitting at the table. “I see you brought your cousin along, that’s mighty nice of you, doubt they get out much after getting kicked in the head by that horse all those years back.”

Mandate did not particularly see how a horse kicking her could be dangerous, but did not comment. Instead, she stared blankly into her glass of water.

Odette squinted at him then Mandate. Sure it was a quickly thrown together glamour but disguising an eight foot tall, cyclops golem was easier said than done. “My dear cousin loves to meet with all my friends. Even the ones that keep me waiting, did you get lost on your way from the airport or was it just bad traffic? I thought you had stood us up.” She laughed lightly, giving him an impish smile.

“Kept you waitin? Why if I’d known you were hankering so badly for my company Miss I’d have got here all the sooner.”

She rolled her eyes, chuckling behind her hand, “Charming. What a gentleman, hard to find in the city known for its sin.”

“Well, you know what they say, the Southern gentleman brings his hospitality wherever he goes, ‘specially in the company of a fine young lady such as yourself.” Silence gave her an ironic wink and sipped on his drink.

“While a frenchwoman knows her cheese.” She said. “It looks like you might need something to chase that with.” She noted his distaste, every little thing contributing to his disguise right down to the drink. Although she was sure she wouldn’t be able to stomach a glass of sour mash whiskey. It was admittedly amusing to watch.

“Come on now Miss, you wound me.” He laughed, legitimately. “I reckoned I was up for a glass, guess maybe I had a little too much last night for its tasting a trifle sour goin down.” With a determination to fulfil his role to the last, the Pole drank down the last of the whiskey with held breath, gritting his teeth for just a moment. “Well then, drinkins’ done, shall we be headin off?”

She laughed with him, genuinely amused by his accent and charm. Nodding she said, “Please, after you. I’ll buy your drink, I still owe you for that coffee.”

“Why thank you kindly Miss.”

She dug her wallet out and waved over the waiter. He quickly scribbled out the bill for her small meal and the drink. She handed him cash and a decent tip. Bach returned to her side again, looking pleased after harassing the restaurant staff.

“You drive, I’ll direct you.”

Silence stood and led the group out of the restaurant, judging the sun in the sky as he stepped out into open air. Shrugging, he flicked out his sunglasses and put them back on to shade his eyes before pointing to the less than stylish people carrier in the car park.

“How’d ya like my wheels Miss?” He said, walking over and pulling out his keys to hit the fob. He hopped into the driver’s seat and gave the other’s time to get in.

“Right, where to?” All traces of Southern accent gone now, all business.

They settled in easily, Odette’s expression defaulted back to neutral. She gave simple directions, they were only about five minutes away by car. They drove past the warehouse, looking for a discrete spot to park the van. Close but not out of reach. “Vampires, mage, and possibly metahumans are patrolling the warehouse.” She said turning to Lekh, she dug through her purse pulling free some bottles of holy water and short but sharpened wooden stakes. “I hope we have no use for these tonight.”

Lekh took a stake a little uncertainly, looking at the slender wooden point, before tucking it into his waist-band beside his gun. Then, he took a bottle of holy water.

“So these things kill these Vampires, and the heart is the key, correct?” He wanted to see if he remembered what she had taught him about killing the undead creatures Barron had at his beck and call.

“The heart, yes. Don’t miss.” She warned him.

“We’ll have to find where the healing based artefacts are being kept. I can imagine it won’t be difficult considering they hold such high value.” She said, removing her hat setting it on the dash.

“With such a sophisticated operation I would suspect that someone must know what is in each container, perhaps they are marked or coded? We shall have to grab someone and ask them to be sure, it would be best not to spend too long here.”

She nodded pulling off her white blouse, stuffing it away in her purse then pulling out a dark blue long sleeved shirt. “I think that would be best. Some desk jockey could find what we’re looking for much faster.”

”I can grab someone.” Mandate offered, fiddling with her glamoured necklace. Her curiosity was not conveyed in her false eyes. ”Miss Ambassador, what makes a vampire different from a metahuman?”

“Vampires are generally faster, stronger and quieter. They’re also undead. For you Mandate, their speed will be your main concern.” Pulling the shirt over her head, she tucked some wooden stakes into her belt along her lower back for easy access.

“Right. So we know they have metahumans in there, or Vampires, or both. With people like this I do not think I will be able to infiltrate them brazenly, stealth and execution will be the key. Mandate seems hardy enough, I say we move in from the sides and send Mandate in directly through the front as a distraction while we pick off stragglers and get what we need. Do you have any other ideas? You have been here longer than myself.”

Unstrapping her sandals while she thought. “I don’t think splitting up will be wise but it seems we need to cover some more ground. The warehouse grounds are on the large side. Mandate, are you alright with taking the brunt of the distraction?” Dropping the sandals into her purse and switching out for running shoes.

Mandate, unperturbed by the imminent danger, responded quite chipperly. ”Of course, Miss Ambassador!” She continued to play with her necklace. ”Should I remove this? I’d like for it to stay safe.”

“Yes, I can keep it safe for you.” She opened her hand. “The west side of the building has it’s shipping and receiving centre. Two large doors, with side entrances. When I checked they were deserted. On the east side is the employee entrance and parking lot, essentially the front doors. On the roof, there are some large windows but most of them have been boarded up, I can imagine in consideration for their undead co-workers. Where would you like to start, Silence?”

“I will sneak in through the west entrance, through their loading bay. I would rather have the sun at my back for as long as possible as I am the most vulnerable to those Vampires in there.”

Mandate tilted her head at the mention of the sun, her necklace having been slipped off of her neck and into the Ambassador’s hand. ”Do you think there’s still enough light to be hurtful if those windows are broken, Miss Ambassador? I’m good at breaking.” It was a niggling memory, brought on by the conversation at hand. The sun was the enemy of dead things, right?

Odette nodded storing the necklace away, “I believe so. I can portal you to the rooftop and the distraction will begin when you break through the window. I’ll cover the east side, discreetly remove any opposition, set some traps in case there is reinforcements. Then meet Silence, to help search for our prizes.”

“It sounds as if we have a plan then. I will get equipped and meet you both inside this warehouse. Good luck.” And with that, he opened the door and hopped outside, moving around to the boot and popping it. Inside was his apparel for the afternoon’s work, a bulletproof vest, ballistic gloves and mask, and some falconer’s bracers he’d had the foresight to ask for while on waiting in the airport. It was lucky his meagre contacts in the area had easy access to this sort of equipment in Las Vegas. After equipping himself thusly, he tailed out of the parking spot, hastily sprinting across the quiet street while no one was in view and disappearing behind a fence lining the perimeter.

Odette watched Lekh’s back as he departed before stepping out of the van, beckoning Mandate away from the vehicle. She began crafting a new portal, quickly forming its door a minute or so later. “This will take you to the roof. Countdown from one hundred before you step through the window. Please try not to cause too much property damage, feel free to tear the opposition apart, there is no one we need to save for questioning this time.” Odette instructed looking up into Mandate’s singular red ‘eye’. She smiled, thoughtfully adding, “Try not to have too much fun without me, my dear.”

”Of course, Miss Ambassador! I could never have enough fun without you.” Mandate chirped in response, poking and prodding curiously at the portal. She paused as a thought struck her, twisting to face the Ambassador. Her hand hit her head in a crude salute. ”I’ll get it done, Miss Ambassador.” The rather serious and solemn statement was interrupted by a series of short-lived giggles.

Odette gave her a wink, clicked her heels and jogged off across the street heading for the opposite direction of Lekh, hopping up and over the fence. She kept close to the building, casting her warding spells as she went. Bach followed closely behind her, full sized and keeping a wary eye out. Counting down the seconds.

Slipstream’s ears were ringing after the impact, which also left her dizzy and seeing double. She didn’t know who the mountain of a man was that had assaulted her, but whoever she was one thing was certain, he packed one hell of a punch. She fought to get up; however, with her head spinning, no sooner did she get to her feet did she find herself back down on one knee.

This isn’t good. She thought to herself as she tried to clear her head. She could feel the brute walking towards her, and though she couldn’t make out what he was saying over the ringing in her ears, she knew that he was taunting her. As the massive man bore down on her, she couldn’t help but to wonder if she was actually cut out for this line of work. Sure, she was good at rescuing little old ladies in the crosswalk, and cats out of trees, but when it came to going up against other meta-humans, this monster of a man had shown her that she was woefully under prepared. The ground shook as the man stomped toward her, and then suddenly…it stopped.

She looked up and saw that someone else had joined the party. The man in the suit of armor was talking to the brute, and though she wasn’t able to hear what he was saying, it seemed to draw the ire of the behemoth, who charged at him.

Thanks for the distraction, Iron…Guy. She thought to herself as she struggled to remember her savior’s name. Though she recognized him, she never really paid attention to the various superheroes who have popped up over the last couple of years, something that she knew that she would have to change…assuming she survived this encounter.
She took the opportunity provided by the Iron Knight’s distraction to get to her feet and gather her senses. After a moment, her vision steadied and the ringing in her ears stopped. Though she was still a bit unsteady on her feet, she thought that she was recovered enough to take another crack at the mountain-like man while he was distracted by the newcomer.

In the blink of an eye, Slipstream raced toward the behemoth. She ran circles around him, peppering him with punches and elbows to the brute’s midsection, and extended to deliver shots to his head, neck, and face. Hundreds of punches and elbows in a matter of seconds.

“Are you…” She paused for a split second before resuming her attacks.

“Just gonna…”

“Stand there…?” She paused every few passes around the large man, directing her questions at the Iron Knight.

“Or…”

“Are you…”

“Gonna…”

“Knock him…”

“On…”

“His ass..?” She finally came to a stop in front of the dazed brute. “I hope you have something in that suit that’ll bring him down…I don’t...hoo...I don't think I can do that again.” She said trying to catch her breath, having expended about everything she had left after the beating that she had taken before the Iron Knight had arrived.

The report had picture evidence, recordings, an a news report to boot. There was no denying the content, but believing it was proving a difficult task. Aliens had been a topic of some discussion, but only as a sort of "off hand" deal. Considering some heroes could simply be aliens disguised as humans, and at that point it was purely conjecture being thrown around. The colossal improbability of a sapient life form making its way to Earth was somewhere within five to ten times the likelihood of winning the lottery. So imagining the possibility of an Alien just traipsing about and performing acts of vigilantism was, well, baffling.

A purely logical and aggressive individual such as the Legate wasn’t exactly comfortable with the baffling unlikelihoods that most metahumans ascribe to. Now extraterrestrials were doing the same thing, and ultimately on a comparable level?

If he were a religious individual he might have prayed, because the burden on his shoulders suddenly became exceptionally more massive.

After the videos had been skimmed through, the man put his hand out and retrieved his tablet. “I trust that you are aware that we have informed your team. I’m sorry for the suddenness and alarming nature of the mission. This is of the utmost urgency, we need you to capture and contain this ET.”

The Legate’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed to slits and he stood from his chair, shoving it aside with a violent motion. “Your training made me ready for the potential of overwhelming physical traits, the drugs remove my fear and give me heightened aggression. But this? I’m not certain my armor will be capable of competing with technology significantly more advanced than my own.” He pointed to the armor attached to the charging station nearby, the dim light in the corner giving the suit an almost bestial appearance despite having a largely humanoid form. “You’ve got to understand that they might simply be able to disable my suit. This thing is purely reactive servos, an electrical short leaves me trapped in my own human shaped grave.”

He approached the smaller man, accusingly jabbing his finger towards his nose. The smaller man backed off, the man on his right slowly reached towards his hip. He sputtered and waved his hand at his companion, motioning for him to not grab his gun. “I’m aware, Soldier, but you must understand. This isn’t an eventuality we were particularly prepared for, and in this case,” He drifted off and looked towards the suit of armor before talking again. “In this case, you’re the best asset we’ve got. We would turn to outside options, but our connections are limited.” He swallowed and turned back towards the Legate, looking into the narrow blades of his eyes.

The two stood there, glaring into each other’s eyes for the longest moment. “We’re a subdivision, Soldier. We don’t have the same black funds that our benefactor does, and as a purely experimental project, you’ve exceeded all expectations.” Halfway into his statement, the Legate took a deep breath and turned away from the suits. His footfalls incredibly heavy on the concrete floor, echoing around his small room.

“You’ll get your ET, but I can’t guarantee it will be alive.”

“It doesn’t need to be, we just need it out of the public eye.”.

“Good.” The Legate grunted slightly as he pulled his shirt over his head, then moved down to unbuttoning his pants. “You gonna stay and watch, or are you going to leave the tablet?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry.” He said, slightly flustered. Putting the tablet down on the nearby desk and walking out of the room. Before he left, he turned around one more time. “And, Legate. Your Legion has been notified that they will be mobilizing, you have twenty four hours to prepare yourself.”

He reached towards the suit, placing his hand on the helmet. For a moment he stared into the visor, and into the reflection of his eyes. “This is not what I was expecting my training to culminate into.”


From the information gathered in the video footage gathered from the businesses, street cameras, and news footage. The Legate and his crew managed to triangulate the rough position from which the Alien had originated before the chase as well as where she could have conceivably gone before vanishing out of the public eye. A street camera had caught a glimpse of her heading east inland, into a commercial district where she vanished. Which is odd, considering how many cameras they have.

Despite the lack of information beyond that point, they could deduce within three miles of the arrival and exit points of her current location. This was triangulated between the point where the car was boarded, which is closest to the bank that was robbed. The point where they damaged an expensive vehicle in a residential area, which is the furthest point from the starting location. And the point where she disappeared, which is closer to the starting location as they had doubled back to head along the water.

With this in mind, they set up a three mile wide perimeter on the map and marked the locations where the thirteen of them would be distributed.

Spitfire and Blue would be paired off nearest to the residential area, stationed in an empty apartment block with cameras set up in the building. Recording the street on both sides to potentially catch footage of her and locate her original deployment point, potentially she could have come from the sewers. So they set up a street camera directed towards the nearest manhole covers to catch footage.

Ghost and Hawk would be positioned in the mobile chopper along with Legate and Butch. They would fly high and keep silent and slow, the sniper and spotter would direct their scopes and camera downward on a street sweep. Both of them situated on opposite sides of the chopper to get maximum coverage. Legate would monitor the feed of all the cameras from the rear seat of the chopper, to catch anything they might miss.

Hammer and Irons would be in civilian clothing, with their equipment held in large backpacks as not to draw suspicion to themselves. They are equipped with two hat mounted microcameras to monitor the streets, they would move from the oceanside to the apartment complex, and then up to where the car was damaged. Repeating this cycle over and over to attempt to see if she spoke with civilians on the regular, or if she was secretive.

Cutter, Ace, Medic and Dog would be in a black van with darkened windows. This van would travel in a spiral pattern, beginning at the furthest point and traveling inwards to the center of the triangulated map. Recording equipment directed outwards from all windows to monitor activity.

Shark will be solo and following the exact trail that the van made from the bank to the oceanside, repeating this over and over again. With a helmet mounted camera to try and see if she would return to the scene of the crime. Maybe she would contact the police after the incident, as they would still be in the act of investigating the crime scenes.

With the gameplan in mind, Legate and the Legion mobilized their forces and moved into position.

Once they were all in position, they would only have to wait. She wanted to be a vigilante, it seemed, and therefore something was bound to draw her out. Metahumans are dangerous sorts, and actively seek conflict. This would be the ultimate downfall of the Alien, and she would reveal herself.

Whether she liked it or not.

E.I.P Psychic Ward, Blacksite Barnicus, Nevada.

A man in a white labcoat stood by a screen showing a young woman curled up in the corner of a padded cell. She was raving ,screaming in a language none of them could identifity. She tossed heself at the walls, screaming up at the camera.

“IT COMES IT COMES IT COMES” She chanted in a hoarse, cackling manner.

“Subject Lora Lebwich is still in fluctuate state between brief, violent mania and deep catonic state after encountering the entitiy known now as Parasite. According to Chief Lyota, they only barely beat the thing with a whole lot of luck. They lost Loras brother, Matthew Lebwich, leading to her dropping her guard. Subject was also known as Ace, and scored extremely high on her resistant test. Able to withstand mind intrusion and telepathic scrambling to a remarkable extent. TO break her mind this completely is quite a feat”

A man spoke to his collegue, a severe looking woman in a black suit. THe suit looked sceptical. “Is she beyond saving?”

“I am unsure. No medication seem to w-” There was a sudden screech from Aces cell as she suddenly stood up rigid. Her mouth open in a shrill, heartbreaking scream, she began to claw at her head.

“Someone get to Cell 295 RIGHT NOW.” The doctor screamed into a mic.

---

Aces head felt as if it was on fire. Her eyes teared up and she didn’t seem to stop screaming. The ringing would not stop. The strange images would not leave her. They were so close now. So strange nad twisted. Like reality had lost its grip on them. She clawed at her temples, sobbing. Why was she see seeing everything in purple all of the sudden. She screamed and screamed but nothing happened

Thne the door burst open and five men and a nurse rushed in, all heavily armored. They grabbed her by arm each, ready to push her down. But something in her moved. She flinged out her arms wide and all of them ragdolled around the room as if they were nothing. She stood there, shock evident on her face.

“No. No. I can’t!” She had manifested psychic powers. “PLEASE NO!”

And she felt it. It made the walls of reality quake and crack open. It came for her, massive and relentless. ANd it came from within.

----

Alber Artillus Stooge stared in terror and fascination, as Ace, who they always wondered if she would ever manifest abilities or if her genes were dormant, suddenly exploded her room with telekinetic energy. And then he watched how the woman began begt to something unseen to spare her. In earie fascination, he watched as everything around the girl began to dissolve.

“What on earth..” the Woman beside her said, eyes wide. “What is that.” She pointed at the rapidly growing cluster of faraway starts and space dust forming into a vaguely human shape on the screen. Alber felt his throat go dry. He knew exactly what they were seing manifest. A piece of alien reality, a sentient manifestion of purest evil. A eater of world.

“P-parasite” He stammered. Unable to look away from the screen

-------

Parastie had bided its time, siphoning Ace latent power all this time. It had retreated party to its home plane of existence. Party into the head of the at the time catonic Ace. And now it was making a bid for freedom. Her power finally matured and manifested, it was time for Parasite to eat. Tendrils of power ripped a hole in reality itself as it pushed itself out of the poor woman's head. Ace screamed in terrible pain as it drew itself into reality.

----

Ace didn’t cry once Parasite had manifested. Straightening her back she growled in defiance. And then the stars and the strange space between spaces ate her. Her body lit up like a christmas tree as the psychic energy flooded her. The psychic scream that left her was felt by psychics across the globe. A last act of defiance, Ace warned everyone like her that something was coming for them.

As had been her habit from the beginning, Berenice had woken today with the rising of the sun. Blinking sleep from her eyes and stretching her arms to their full extent, she stared around her little nest. The blown out remains of the small cabin had given her plenty of materials to work with, even a few bits of wooden walls left intact, so she had scavenged a few tarpaulins from the area and stretched them, lean-to fashion, from an L-bend in the remaining structure, forming a covered area of perhaps ten feet across and fifteen long. Inside this she had built a real bird's sort of nest, a drift of twigs carefully assorted and woven into a basket shape, lined with stolen sheets from clotheslines and bits of other soft materials to form a surprisingly comfy bed. Her body shape did not lend itself to lying stretched out as humans did, so she slept much like her avian cousins, in almost a squat, and was content with her arrangements.

The nest faced out into the woods to the north-east, towards Lost Haven, a name she had learned in the past few days. The corner of the wall functioned much as it had been designed to, despite lacking the top third of itself, and blocked the winds off of the Atlantic without taking them directly. On the lee side, the charred wooden flooring was mostly still covered in rubble, though the area immediately outside of the nest had been inexpertly cleared. Fishing line had been strung in several spots between prominences of shattered wood, and from these hung a dizzying array of objects, anything from coins and gum wrappers to small toys, brightly coloured pebbles, a bottle cork, several pieces of broken glass, and most confusingly for human viewers, a carefully folded green napkin.

Not that this location saw any human traffic, even when the cabin had still been whole, a fact that the previous occupant had enjoyed immensely before the accident that had blown him, his laboratory, and most of his reagents out into the water, for the cabin sat on the edge of a short sea cliff, a rocky uplift of the shore that within even a few hundred years might break off into the sea. Even now, the approach up to the place was full of spots where loose or jagged rock made footing treacherous, evidence that the promontory was slowly being pulled into the ocean below. Even the grass had ceased growing except in tufts this far out, reducing the likelihood that someone might want to hike out to it.

The mage who created Berenice had certainly never questioned why anyone had built a house this far out and away from civilisation, taking it as a boon that it existed at all. Berenice questioned it even less, as with no frame of reference for what might have been normal, she had no reason to assume anything was odd.

Later on that summer morning saw Berenice take flight for her first hunting trip of the day, hopping up onto her little wall and then spreading her golden brown wings out and diving off towards the water, only to pull up and wheel about towards the woods. Her approach, as always, caused the nearby seabirds to scatter, and it took almost an hour for her to spot a pair of oblivious squirrels sitting on an exposed branch. Thankfully for her grumbling stomach, they remained oblivious for the remainder of their very short lifespans, and she brought their bodies back to her nest to feast upon. Having only been alive for a few weeks as an adult, she had accumulated an astonishingly large pile of bones in her little scrap pile on the opposite side of the house. After having eaten, and remembering watching her little human friends carefully put their food remains into bins, she eyed the pile. Several bones with pleasing structures(a small dog pelvis, seven rabbit femurs, and the skull of a wood pigeon) were plucked from the scraps, having been picked clean by the luckiest ant colony in the area, and tied up onto the lines with the rest of her baubles. Having extracted what she wished, she examined the rest of the scraps, trying to figure out where she was going to get a bin that she could carry back.

Scouting for such an object took up a good portion of the day, and by the time of her afternoon meal (an unfortunate stray cat), she had concluded that the task was virtually impossible. She decided to consult with her experts on matters of human things, and made her way to the park overlooking the beach in West Lost Haven. The children who knew her were named Amy, Robbie, Ted, Owen, and Laura, and they had not seen their strange friend for several days, making them somewhat anxious that something had happened to her. It was these five that had taught her much in the past few weeks, including clothing herself, picking up, the necessity of keeping one's house neat, how to play hide and seek, why school was important, and so on. They had yet to broach the subject of why she was odd while they were normal, in part because they weren't exactly sure themselves, though more because the local news was always filled with fantastic stories of spectacularly strange things. And since demon invasions marked significantly higher on the list of Things That Worried the Parents than a bird lady, they simply assumed that she knew what she was about, despite her clear lack of domestication.

As she braked her wings and landed to perch on the safety railing, gripping the steel bars with her powerful talons, the five happened to be the only children at the park, unburdened by the presence of adults thanks to the proximity of their houses. They ran up cheering as she settled herself in her customary pose, the corners of her wings draping across the points of her shoulders to enclose her body. She grinned at them and said, “Krrrak! How are the young on this day?”

The kids halted a polite distance from their friend. Despite their best efforts, Berenice had yet to master the art of bathing to a point of smelling at all tolerable, though she managed to keep herself free of blood or gore sticking to her. She still, however, smelled powerfully of bird and unwashed human skin, so they tried not to get too close. Amy waved at her, the red-headed ten year old de-facto leader of the group by virtue of force of will. She spoke up, saying, “We're okay, birdbrain. Where have you been? We were worried you got nabbed by the police!”

Berenice shook her head. “No, no police. Trying to clean house like you say to. Very difficult. Much to be done. Need a bin.” She glanced across their faces and singled out the tow-headed Owen. “Ow-win, where to get bin like that?” She gestured towards the garbage cans near the entrance of the play area. Owen glanced back to it, then turned back and shrugged. “I dunno, Berry. I think the city must put 'em there, but I don't know how to get one.”

Amy frowned, thinking hard. “I think my Dad said we got ours from the Wally World, I think they got them there.”

The siren tilted her head to one side as she ingested this. “Where this Wally World at? Who rules it?”

Laura pointed off into the city. “Over that way somewhere, I think. By the highway. I don't think they have a king, though.” Robbie shook his head. “The manager's kinda mean, but he doesn't have a crown or nothin'.”

Owen stared at the bird woman for a moment. “Something tells me, Berry,” he said, careful not to say anything too upsetting, “that they won't let you in.”

Berenice looked at him quizzically again. “Why, Ow-win? Am I not allowed? Is it a club, like you?”

The children looked at each other warily. This was one of those uncomfortable subjects. While they had made it abundantly clear that they didn't care that she was part bird, they had not introduced her to any adults, only speaking to their parents about 'our friend Berry', which got the usual response whenever they came up with their latest hare-brained scheme for the day. As a precocious group of kids, they found this exercise exasperating, but they were also well aware that even in a town as odd as Lost Haven, and even in a loose a district as the area near the college campus, and even in as weird a times as had occurred since the modern events they had seen, taking Berenice anywhere public aside from their meetings in the park was likely to cause no end of trouble. So they had been painstakingly slow in introducing even the idea of her to their parents, and certainly weren't about to do something as brazen as shopping.

But these were complex subjects, ones they weren't really able to fully grasp themselves. Trying to explain ideas about racism or, in this case species-ism, to a girl who hadn't even grown up in their culture (or any culture, really) was a little beyond their abilities. Most of their efforts to train her in human activities was in an attempt to normalise her enough that their parents wouldn't freak out at her introduction, something the group had been carefully planning for the past few weeks. They were also aware, on a semi-conscious level, that however nice they were to her, Berenice was very much a dangerous creature. They only had to look at her feet, whose four-inch talons and grasping toes were gripping the fence somewhat agitatedly even now, to know that. Even her smile was a little un-nerving, owing to the amount of very sharp teeth in her mouth. They had yet to understand that she had even more dangerous abilities.

The beginning of Berenice's real troubles, which had yet to come to a head, had happened on one of her morning hunts. A young man had gone hiking in the woods for a wonderful and sunny Saturday during his summer break from college, and had happened upon her while she was perched on a stump, finishing her breakfast. Berenice wasn't exactly hard to look at, owing to the human body used as her base during her creation, but at that moment she had the remains of a rabbit hanging from one talon, and was holding a bloody chunk in both hands while gnawing at a bone, face and arms up to the elbow smeared and spattered in gore. The man had, quite understandably, panicked, but some wiring in his brain went astray, and instead of fleeing from the 'monster', he had frozen, slowly reaching for his belt. Being an experienced outdoorsman, he had his cell phone, a pocket knife, and bear spray at ready availability. With one hand he opened his phone's camera, while with the other he held out the spray, aiming at her with both.

Some internal danger sense notified the harpy that she was being watched, and her head snapped up just as the flash from the camera, which the man had forgotten to disable, went off. Startled, more instincts had taken over, and her hindbrain thinking she was under attack triggered her primary defence. So she screamed.

The piercing shriek rang about the woods for a significant distance, startling birds out of nests, sending fluffy animals scurrying for burrows and scaring the bejeezus out of other hikers in the area. However, the poor sod who had triggered it was far worse off, standing only forty feet from her. As the leading edge of the sonic blast hit him, his eardrums burst, and his mind reeled from the wave of magic that rolled along with it. Conscious thought was impossible, his perfectly normal human brain having no defence whatsoever leading to a mass disruption of neural pathways as it scrambled to find a way of dealing with this. Berenice had only let off a short burst, perhaps three seconds, but it left the man a gibbering mess, and he had fled into the woods, heedless of obstacles or reasoning. The harpy went back to her meal, satisfied that she had defended her kill from what her brain now knew was a food thief. And a phone lay on the path, screen broken but containing a video that would be very concerning to anyone viewing it.

This having happened several days ago, the man had been found, dried blood still on the side of his head, muttering to himself deafly and wandering the woods. The police had just today pieced together enough of his story to start tracking down where he was attacked, and just that morning another hiker had turned in the broken phone to the park service in case someone had been looking for it. With the GPS still operating, it was only a matter of time before the authorities knew they had yet another strange and dangerous creature roaming the area.

The kids didn't know any of this, and Berenice barely remembered the event, but it was about to be a very significant part of her life. At the moment, however, social complexities were the issue of her day. And she was paying careful attention to he little friends' reactions to her question. “Ah-mee,” she said. They hadn't yet figured out why she mispronounced their names, despite them pronouncing them very clearly when introducing themselves to her. “Tell me. Am I not good yet? Is that why Wally won't let me have a bin?”

Amy, stalwart leader of the group and breaker of bad news when necessary, steeled herself to fudge her way through this conversation with bluster and confidence when she caught sight of something that caused her breath to catch in her throat.

Owen's parents, who earlier that day had told him to be home early so they could visit his grandparents, were entering the park. Their sacred space, their most favourite haunt, violated by the presence of adults! And much worse than merely their presence was that it coincided with Berry's. The meeting they had been so meticulously planning, their carefully laid schemes and hints and ideas, was about to come crashing down around their ears, and Amy could do nothing to stop it, now. She hissed through her teeth and whisper-shouted, “Down, quick!” But even as she said it she knew it was hopeless. Not only were they out in plain view with no cover, but getting their odd friend to understand why she had to hide would take much longer than the scant seconds they had. As it was, Owen's parents had already caught sight of them, and had stopped short in shock. And then Owen's mother screamed.