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Time: Afternoon - Present Day
Location: Berenice’s Nest - Carver (Outside Lost Haven)

Charlene picked the meat from the bones of her fish, fingers sticky with grease. She ate every scrap. Waste not, want not. She tossed the last of the bones off the cliff side. Idly she brushed her hands down her shirt, getting rid of stray scraps and wiping her hands ‘clean’ picking up some grit of dust as she did. Her mind wandered as she stared at the wreckage of the cottage, Berry’s nest. Her tongue running along ridges of her teeth, fingers rubbing against the grit, lost in thought. It was a picturesque cliff side, real sea breeze free of smog and exhaust. Noticeably now they were outside Lost Haven.

Charlie felt like she was way out of her depth dealing with Berry and now Salamander, this warlock or witch, whatever he considered himself.

He knew a thing or two about alchemy sure, her green eyes scanned the treeline looking for him. He had left the cottage at Berry’s word, she spotted him leaning against a tree looking out over the field much like herself. Her grip tightened on her staff, glaring at him. Something wasn’t right. She hated she couldn’t put her finger on it.

She checked the time on her old beat up cellphone, deciding now would be a good time to check in. She hoped she wouldn’t need to explain half of this to her mom, Jules.

Tabbing through the phone book to Home, Charlie waited listening to the ring tones turning her back to Salamander. “Come on, Harry. Please pick up…”

Finally a crackly, but thankfully bored voice of Charlie’s younger sister, Harry answered with a, “...Hello?”

“Harry, my dear sweet sister-”

“No, I won’t help you dumpster dive in the lower south side again. It wasn’t worth it to get the collectible Chinese new year gold coins. All we found were the bronze ones, anyways.” Harry said without missing a beat, her tone drier than a desert.

Charlie was quick to defend herself, “We found two and bargained for a complete set. I was going to say, sweet sibling, I’m still out of town. Would appreciate if you could tell mom and gramps I’m okay.”

“Why’re you gone for so long anyway? Did Carrie drag you out of the city again?” Harry asked, unseen twirling the cord of the phone. “Usually on these escapades you’re back to at least sleep.”

Charlie began to walk to the cliff side, the noise of the waves carrying over the receiver, “Look kiddo, don’t tell mom alright? I’m in with weird shit she doesn’t care for, I barely understand it myself.”

“Oh? What is it?” Harry’s voice perked up from bored to interested. “Gang stuff? Superhero stuff?”

“Magic shit, like beyond even the weirdness that goes with Carrie.”

“You’re okay right?” Harry asked tentatively. “Nobody’s holding a wand to your head right now?”

Charlie laughed when her chuckles subsided she returned to a more serious tone, “No. Carrie and I found… something this morning when we were heading back home. We found a Siren at the park, accidentally. She was hanging out in a tree.”

She flinched away the cellphone when Harry exclaimed, “GET ME A FEATHER! Please please, I can add it to my staff!”

“Shhh! Shut up, Gramps will hear you!”

Lowering her voice Harry said, “Pretty please.”

“Fine, but keep your big mouth shut okay? I’ll be busy trying to help her out, there’s this sorcerer who knows the guy who made her, really dark, horrifying stuff. Won’t go into detail, spare you the nightmares I’m going to have.” She said rubbing her arm and closing her eyes. “I’m not saying this to worry you, but sound the alarm when I don’t check in alright? If something bad happens I’ll make sure to leave a trail to follow.”

“You’re scaring me with this.” Harry said, quietly.

“I’ll be fine, I’m just covering my bases. I’ll go into detail when I’m home, but I’m feeling like that won’t be today. I’ll call tonight to check in.” Charlie tried to reassure Harry. “For now I’ve got a weird wizard to talk to.”

Harry took a deep breathe in, pushing away her worry. Trusting what she said. “Okay, love you. I’ll keep this on the down low from mom, might tell gramps. He might know a thing or two about Sirens.”

Charlie sighed with relief, “Thanks! I’ll spill the beans when I’m back home, promise.”

“You better. Talk to you later.”

Charlie said a quick bye, then hit the end button storing her phone away into one of her many pockets. Stealing a glance at the cottage and then at the woods, she went for the woods trekking across the field. Stopping when she felt an involuntary chill run down her spine, the wind was warm and the afternoon sun shone. The chill raised goosebumps across the nape of her neck.

Sharply she turned raising her staff defensively, seeing nothing behind her, she pivoted on the ball of her foot scanning left then right. She checked over her shoulder and Salamander left his spot, he hadn’t been shy about watching her.

Something was watching her now, she felt something’s eyes roam over her now that she hadn’t been distracted. “Piss off, googly eyes. I can’t see you but I sure as shit can feel you watching me. This ain’t a show." she snarled, backing away toward the treeline then bolted the last few yards. The chill disappeared as her foot crossed the line.

“Damnit…” She said under her breath, unsettled turning to check around through the forest she called out. “Yo! Salamander! We need to talk, pronto. I need to understand what’s going on, with Berry, with this necromancer asshole of yours. I’m here and I’m going to help her.” She pointed with her staff in the general direction of the cottage.

She turned on the spot looking for him, “I’m not some worldly, well-read witch or sorceress, but I’m one of the best alchemists in Lost Haven, so talk to me Sally-man.”

_{banner credit to Hellis}

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Time: Hours later - Post Vision
Location: Las Vegas, Nevada

Bach had sat in silence for the few hours while waiting for Odette to stir from her strange sleep, her eyes roamed beneath her lids. Murmuring words in French, English and Common Fey. He focused on reading through her grimoire for spells, trying the odd one without any luck. The magic that had ensnared her was at the root of her soul. If he were to try anything more invasive it would require her explicit consent.

He expertly ignored Mandate’s clear anxiety and silent animosity. He felt her singular red eye burrowing into him occasionally, her stare as heavy as she was. Bach returned it with a glare of his own, venomous. He held little respect for the golem, at first it was curiosity but the clear and genuine attachment had grown between Odette and Mandate, one he loathed to admit was there. He had wrongly assumed such a sentient being would have remained a tool. Regardless, Mandate could do nothing against him while she vied so heavily for Odette’s approval. There wasn’t anything in this world that could replace him in his Lady’s eyes. Figuratively and literally.

Finally after hours of awkward tension and waiting the pair of guardians were greeted with Odette’s awakening. Bach jumped a little at her bolting upright. The earth Fey followed her line of sight as she looked down on the now, opened box. The small arcane coins of various metals.

“I have a plan.” She said breathless looking from a relieved Bach to a clearly agitated Mandate, her ‘mane’ bristling. How long had she been asleep for?

“My Lady, I am relieved to see you awake. You dropped so suddenly, assumingly brought about by the magic on the box.” He said giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “How do you feel?”

Odette took a few deep breaths in steadying herself, “I am feeling better. I think I managed to avert the prophecy, Bach.” She squeezed his hand back grinning genuinely. “Gwyneth accepted my help to find her missing pieces, She gave me the ability to sense out her other objects and told me of how she came to be. All I need to do is sign a contract with Puck present for Gwyneth and we will solidify an alliance.”

Bach smiled warmly, “Excellent work, My Lady. With Puck though?” He asked tentatively. “He will see what it is we are trying to do.”

“He may try to warn Gwyneth of our past dealings, stir some trouble, but it is nothing I have not already told her. She is familiar with the Fey and I do not believe she will be offended by vague details. This will end amicably, the contract we will sign will ensure that. I will ensure that.” Odette replied rather earnestly, fuelled by hope. “Puck won’t stand a chance with the groundwork I’ve done today.”

“He will certainly not expect this.” Bach said.

Odette nodded swinging her feet over the edge of the bed to stand up, wobbling a little misplacing her center of gravity. Reaching out for Mandate to steady herself.

Turning her attention to the golem she spoke gently, “Everything is alright now, Gwyneth’s magic pulled my mind into her little illusionary world when I broke through the warding on the box. For the better, I was able to speak with her directly to negotiate a deal and learn more about her.”

“I did not want to worry you but this prophecy that Puck instilled upon me was before you and I met, Mandate. Bach, can you please bring me my phone?” Odette gestured to the desk.

“Yes, My Lady.” He stood from his chair, retrieving her phone and passing it into her hand.

Odette unlocked it, quickly digging up the audio file of the prophecy. “I believe you should know the full scope of why we are here in Las Vegas still. Yes we came initially to help Silence, but we remained based on the information we gained from Princess Lassantra’s oracle. Hekate gave us what we were looking for, it has provided us the upperhand in numerous ways.”

She played the voice memo.

Her voice sounded across the recorded memo, Odette had just about memorized the prophecy in it’s entirety. “You, my dear, are as the Earth, a powerful force, one of beauty, strength, and resolve. You are forever changing, forever overcoming obstacles, forever evolving. And when the elements, the very forces of nature over whom you have unbridled authority, conspire against you, you adapt in amazing ways. When your womb is scorched and dried, you do not become infertile; when your wells run dry, you release the gates of heaven and bring down her floods; when your limbs are scattered by the winds, they grow anew and become mountains tall. You will always adapt, always overcome your creation . . . but when a mother hurts her child, she may never regain their trust. And you, even as the Earth, can be hurt by her children in the most creative ways."

"But do not be fooled, your children are not the only ones who reside in your domain. Their stands upon your plains a being ancient, much like yourself, who comes in the guise of a friend. She is a fire that burns brighter than your own hearth, one that can level forests and leave nothing in their wake, and she is angry. Her spirit burns even now, but once she reaches her potential, once she devours the flame of humanity, she will be unstoppable. And the question isn't whether you will be burned, but if you shall reemerge from the ashes."

The recording ended as it always did, with an audible crack in her voice. The fear still plain even months later.

Odette stopped the recording then said, “We believe that the White Witch, Gwyneth’s reincarnation will be responsible for burning me. Witch-fire, being the most prominent clue to the prophecy, an ability the White Witch used against me when we first met. Not to mention the resemblance Gwyneth and White Witch share now that I have met her. If I can negotiate an alliance with her I will negate the prophecy Puck has set against me.”

“An obstacle, to be sure but one I cannot overcome.”

Chris sat at his desk while he peered over the small amount of evidence he had on the Hounds of Humanity. He started with metahuman traffickers, whom he and Slipstream, a new speedster on the west coast, had booked the night before. This incident occurred prior to the big world-wide broadcast that the Hounds used to reveal themselves. The first lead in this case was the white van that the Hounds were using to traffic the metahumans. However, the Hounds were at least smart enough not to register under their name. In fact, the plates on the vehicle revealed that it belonged to a local utilities repair company and had been reported stolen a few months ago.

Inquiry into both the victims and the perpetrators was equally fruitless. The metahumans who were being trafficked were high-risk victims since their “powers” made it difficult for them to blend into the rest of society, unlike some of the current heroes, like Icon and Lyger, who looked nearly identical to a regular person, or like the Albany kids, who can fake a normal appearance with technology. It was also taking some time to dig up dirt on the Hounds involved. He would have to wait for the Tri-P Police to conclude their initial investigation until Chris could work more on this angle.

The Hound’s worldwide broadcast was equally frustrating. Tracing the video back to its source had been just a wild goose chase. The signal bounced from server to server, country to country until it was evident that discovering where it was broadcasted was hopeless. He even tried using what he learned from Doctor Diplodoc’s broadcast when he announced his intent on bestowing metahuman powers upon the entire human race. But even this did not produce any results.

Other than S.T.R.I.K.E., the other targets that the Hounds more or less burned to the ground did not seem like relevant targets for the Hounds. The little S.T.R.I.K.E. intelligence that he could scrape up from the organization’s ashes did not shed any light on why these establishments were targets, although that did not mean Chris’ former business partners were not privy to the true dealings of those organizations, since there were secrets that S.T.R.I.K.E. even withheld from Chris’ knowledge. All Chris could do it make a wild guess that they must had some connection to the superhuman community.

Chris took one last swig of his whiskey before turning in for the night. The one thing that was biting him was the fact that he really had no solids leads on the Hounds. The only way he could advance his search for them was by the Hounds committing another atrocity, which meant more innocent lives would die. What pained his heart even more was that he was powerless at the moment to stop it.

While Chris was ascending the main flight of stairs in his mansion, he noticed that his half-sister was still watching television.

“If you’re still up when I’m heading to bed, that means it’s way too late.”

“But it’s not a school night!” Veronica pouted as she remained firmly planted on the couch.

“I’m fine with you staying up a bit later, but it’s ridiculous when it’s past four in the morning.”

“Fine,” Veronica whimpered while she dragged herself off the couch and up to bed. When she reluctantly passed Chris while making her way to her room, Chris noticed that she was not wearing her power nullifier. While her teenage rebellious nature to act contrary to what she’s told was not breaking news to Chris, he was stumped on why she still had her human appearance without wearing her power nullifier.

“Where’s your power nullifier?”

“Um…what?” Veronica asked with her usual teenage attitude.

“After last night, I’m not in the mood for your little games. I’m talking about the device I reverse engineered to hide your metahuman powers.”

“I think you better see a doctor for a concussion. I’ve never had superpowers, let along being a superhero.”

Veronica then turned and continued to her bedroom. Chris, on the other hand, remained on the stair case. Chris knew he was not going insane. He was in West Virginia where he saw Veronica’s serpentine abilities manifest. At first, he wondered if she had had some help curing herself of her metahuman condition. However, Chris knew that this could not be the case. Her snakelike abilities gave her one more outlet for acting like a rebellious teenager. And now that S.T.R.I.K.E. was more or less defunct, she would have even more license to be lax about her metahuman status.

Something strange was going on. First it was William Kovacs, who had called himself the Game Genie. He had no clue who the majority of the publicly known heroes were, except for maybe Icon. He also continued on about wanting to face a superhuman who went by the alias the Blue Blur. However, when Chris checked the database that he salvaged from the S.T.R.I.K.E. servers moments before Hounds blasted the spy organization to kingdom come, he could not find any recorded individual by that handle. Then, last night there was Newton, who was convinced that his family had blinked out of existence. And now, his own sister showed no signs of being a metahuman.

The last thing I need is another mystery to investigate. Chris thought as he once again headed to his bedroom. On top of the terrorist attacks instigated by the Hounds of Humanity, he also needed to look into the prison break that allowed Doctor Diplodoc and his associates waltz out of a S.T.R.I.K.E. containment facility. He was just fortunate that only the villains who had allied with the doctor escaped. All the rest of the prisoners were accounted for. After the Hounds had dismantled S.T.R.I.K.E., the United States government took the initiative to seize the facility to prevent any more villains from finding their way out. At least this would allow Chris to look in a few leads in both the Hounds and whatever was going on with the Game Genie, Newton, and his sister.

Chris was going to have many sleepless nights over the next few weeks and, unfortunately for Chris, none of them would be caused by Maya.

Time-1-2 A.M.
Location-Gas Station

Yeong’s fingers tapped against the desk board due to the silence between the siblings. Her mouth opened, as if to speak, only to close again. This wasn’t an easy subject to talk about but in a way they both needed some sort of conversation. Maybe now was the best time for this. ” We need to talk about what we’re doing Ji. Considering that we now have a puppy to deal with and we’re trusting a god damn stranger.” she remarked with an unintentionally attitude filled tone.

Ji side glanced her as she drove. Her eyes turned back to the road with a sigh escaping. ”Because she can help us find Ben. You should know how dangerous it is for a newborn to be out and about without someone to help him. Imagine if that was us when we first transformed with no help or guidance. He needs us and the only way we can find him is trusting this stranger.” She said.

It was silent for quite some time before Ji said something again. ”Yeong, this is why I discipline you as much as I do. You are reckless enough as it is and if I'm not around you seem to get worse. I'm not trying to be a bad guy in this, I just want to make sure you would be safe if it came too it that we would need to separate. What if that Fae comes back and finds out we escaped. We could or one of us could be killed Yeong” Her voice was so soft and low, but Yeong could hear it just fine.

“I know I’m just tired of it all. The memories, the nightmares, and at times even life itself. I’m afraid we’re going to lose this one Ji. Like the other puppies we were supposed to protect that day. I want her dead but I can also kinda understand why they were killed.” The werewolf said while holding back a sour taste in her mouth.

“We should have never went camping alone. Yes, we knew that area well but in the end we still lost another family.”

Ji nodded, her eyes showing her grief over their clan’s death, proving that she never truly got over their death. Even now she could still remember the howls the newborns made as they passed away. Ji gripped the steering wheel as the car began to sway towards the white line.

Yeong whimpered as she grabbed onto the wheel. [color=mincream]“Hey now! Focus driver!’[/color]

Ji snapped her attention to the road and she moved the car back center. ”Sorry Yeong” she said, truly sorry. She was tired, it was easy to tell since she just got off a plane not even a couple hours earlier and now she was driving.

“So much for Ji being the cool headed one. Now you understand why I don't want another pack. Despite the pull to it.” The woman remarked while not removing her own hand. “Look I want to get the bitch too. I do but…”

Ji nodded. ”Got in these moments I wish we had our parents,but we know better than to show our faces, they would have a heart attack to see their twin daughters who were supposedly dead but grown up as well”

The youngest frowned. “We can’t go back. We can't ever see them again Ji. So start getting that thought out of your head. And even if we could there’s nothing to say.” She coldly remarked while finally releasing the wheel. “To be frank I really don't consider them them family anymore. I don’t consider myself human most days either.”

Ji nodded as she drove. It was silent for a few hours before Ji spoke again. ”We need to get gas, can you pump while I pay?

“Mhmm.” She commented in a half there and half not tone. “Eric said we should call them.”

Hearing her mention Eric made her glower. ”Speaking of him...I feel like him and Stacy are up to something. I get that they're dating and are basically work out buddies, but every time I see her, i can see it in her eyes, she is hiding something from me’

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Ji looked at her sister. ”I swear if he is up to something involving our past, I am going up into that gym and shove my foot so far up as his ass, his ancestors are going to feel it.” Yeong had a feeling that was a promise.

“Then you should start kicking because he’s dead set on calling them.” The woman stated calmly.

Ji growled. ”I'm breaking his fucking phone and take the shattered remains and bury it so damn deep in the earth, he won't be able to get it back to replace it”

“Your ex lover is too stubborn. He would just get his girlfriend to call them. Besides I find the relationship between you two rather awkward. Way too awkward.”

”Really, i didn't notice” came Ji’s very sarcastic reply

“...I fucking work with the asshole. All I heard after the break up was crying. With Why did she leave me? Was I not good enough? Bakka.” The girl commented showing off her anime skills.

”Tā hěn bèn.” (google translate-He is stupid) she said in chinese which she hadn’t done in a long time. The last time she did was when she was teaching some of the newborn pups who were interested in learning another language.

“Yep but so is your best friend for becoming his significant...oops. I mean… H how are y you?”

She rolled her eyes and went towards the gas station pondering how much she hates her sister sometimes.

Yeong gladly worked out of the car, slightly kicking the bottom, before acting innocent once again. IN a way she was feeling trapped but in another way she understood the reason. “Why couldn’t I bring the bike again?” She asked while removing the gas cap and filled it up.

Ji waited for the the pump to be done before she pad. She even fund their favorite drinks and bought knowing that it was cheer her sister up sometime. She walked over and tossed it at her. [color=lavender]”Think fast”

The woman quickly grabbed the bottle before it could really go anywhere. “You know I’m faster than that right?”

She shrugged with a smirk as she got back into the driver’s seat prepared to drive, despite her tiredness

Yeong shook her head and walked over to the driver side. “Out now and into the back. Or I can carry you on my back and we can travel my favorite way.”

Ji gave her a look before shrugging. She got out of the car and into the back seat, making the best of it to get some rest before whatever happened with Ben happened. She had a feeling she needed it.

The old man sighed as he heard the young girl call out to him. Of course she would come to pester. Well, only one thing for it. He gripped his knees and got up painfully from the crook of tree roots he had been resting in, checking to make sure none of his various bits and baubles had fallen off. He'd be upset to lose one in these woods, fond as he was of them. Stepping out from behind the tree, he grinned. Seems that he had come out just as the girl had spun the other way, yelling at him in completely the wrong direction. He cleared his throat to get her attention, making sure to stay in a non-threatening pose. Young and inexperienced as she was, she could still be dangerous.

“Yes, you would want to help your friend, I am sure,” he said gruffly, mastering his face into a slight grimace. “Unfortunately, I am not entirely certain what there is to be done. Those notes were unfinished, and it seems my apprentice triggered some kind of backlash during the rituals.” He gestured up the slope towards the ruined cottage.

“There is a chance, mind you, that the girl's mind might still be in there somewhere. He might not have made that much of a mess. But I am not entirely certain we'd be doing the siren any favours by disorienting her a second time, and this one with the creeping horror of what was done to her and memories of a life she can no doubt no longer return to.”

His frown deepened, and he stroked his grizzled beard thoughtfully, staring at the younger alchemist. “I'm not sure what, precisely, to tell you about my erstwhile apprentice, however. His name is Sebastian, and had been studying with me for several decades.” The old man's eyes flashed, and for just a moment, there were as black as midnight, more crow than human.

“He has stolen several artefacts of mine, gathered over the course of my life. Most of them were either consumed in the ritual to create the siren or destroyed in the resulting cataclysm. That ritual dagger you found, for example, was an heirloom of a long dead friend. Ruined now, sadly. I don't know what all might have survived.”

He shook his head. “I do know that Sebastian himself is still alive. I can feel him still slithering about. And as you saw from your own perusal of his notes, he is a sick, twisted man. I wish I could say there's hope to turn him around, but that is not the case. I'm afraid he must be put down.”

“In the mean time,” he nodded back up the slope towards the ruins. “I will do what I can to analyse the siren. Berenice, you said her name was? I will make sure she has a good founding in her natural abilities, and some defensive and utilitarian magics to make her more comfortable. The sort of accidental creation she was born in, however, leaves it impossible to find any sort of reversal spell. For that, I am sorry.But I am sure that you will want to check for yourself, and there may indeed be a few things I can teach you, should you deign to show up and make sure I am trustworthy. And, as a token of good faith...”

He reached into the inner pocket of his long coat, fishing around for some moments before finally pulling out what looked like a dreamcatcher that had fared poorly in a windstorm or three. Though it looked like a tangle of string, black feathers, beads, and fur, as he held it up, it spread itself out into an intricate three-dimensional shape. And then immediately began humming slightly, the feathers all orienting back to Berenice's nest.

“While I am certain you have some fancy technological whatchamacallit do detect magic, there is no way like the old way. The pitch of the humming tells you how close, and the feathers will change, ah, there they go.” They had turned a bloody red, tinged with blue on the tips. “They will change colours to let you know what sorts of magics they are detecting. The beads will heat up if you are in eminent danger.” He folded up the whole thing into its seemingly natural shape of a ball of tangled string and held it out. “Free of charge. I don't need it right now, and if I do I can always make another.”

Multiple simultaneous attacks all across the country had rocked the meta human and supernatural communities from coast to coast. A human supremacist group calling themselves the “Hounds of Humanity” had claimed responsibility for the attacks, and promised more to come, not only against meta humans, but against anyone who supported them. For the most part, it seemed that Crown Ridge had been spared the Hounds’ wrath, except for a single murder of a young woman named Courtney Hill, whose corpse had the letters “H-O-H” carved into her chest. The fact that the young woman had been singled out and executed didn’t seem to fit the profile of the Hounds, and might lead some to believe that her murder was the work of a copycat, or perhaps someone who was inspired by the group’s message. However, reports of similar incidents around the country seemed to implicate the hate group.
The Hounds of Humanity struck suddenly, their attacks left entire communities of people shaken and fearful, and in some cases, ready to strike back. However, just as suddenly as the Hounds had struck, they once again vanished into the darkness from which they came, leaving those in the affected communities to wonder when the Hounds would strike again.

Lyger had been out canvassing the city looking for any clues into the Hounds of Humanity and their activity in Crown Ridge, and for the most part he had been unsuccessful in tracking down any information about the group. Aside the occasional police chatter about the murder of the meta human woman Courtney Hill, all was quiet. However, that all changed when, while monitoring the local police band he overheard a the dispatcher send out a call to The Blue Elephant, a seedy local bar that was known to be frequented by Aryan Nations members as well as other bigots from all across the spectrum. Apparently, there was some sort of disturbance in progress. Though the bar was known to host bigots, the clientele didn’t seem to be the type that the Hounds of Humanity typically recruited. Most were ignorant blowhards, and while they wore their hatred like a badge of honor, they weren’t killers. However, according to the police band, an over-served regular was ranting and raving about the Hounds, which was apparently getting some of the more militant patrons worked up into a frenzy.

Lyger watched the police deescalate the situation from the roof of the motel across the street. While he monitored the situation below, he was able to gather the information that he needed thanks to the zoom lenses as well as the high powered microphone that Harry had installed into his cowl. Lyger learned that the man who had started the trouble, Donald Church was not completely unknown to him. Church was a well known racist who Lyger had been investigating in relation to the firebombing of several black owned businesses in Midtown. While most of the patrons of The Blue Elephant were all talk, Church was the exception. He hated anyone who wasn’t straight, white, and “normal.” While Lyger couldn’t prove that Church had anything to do with the fire bombings, he knew that the man was bad news, and if he was claiming to know something about the Hounds of Humanity, Lyger had to take him at his word.

So he waited.

He waited until the police, satisfied that the situation had been resolved, left the area. The patrons who had spilled into the street had, for the most part, gone back inside. Church however, stayed back with a few stragglers and lit up a cigar. He mingled with the others for a few minutes, laughing about the scene that had unfolded moments before. Then he excused himself and went into the ally beside the bar. This is when Lyger made his move. He fired a grapnel line from his gauntlet into the side of the bar’s roof and dove from his hiding spot atop of the motel and swung across to the rooftop of The Blue Elephant. From the rooftop above, Lyger watched as Church looked around the ally to make sure that nobody was around before he leaned into the wall and began to relieve himself.

Lyger leapt from the roof of the bar toward the man in the ally, firing off another grapnel to slow his descent. Before Church knew what was happening, Lyger gripped the man and as if on a zipline, both men accelerated back up to the roof of the bar. Once at the top, Lyger hurled the man who crashed hard into the housing of one of the large exhaust vents. Church sat there dazed for a moment, trying to clear the cobwebs from his head, unsure of exactly what had just happened to him. However, Lyger was on him before he was able to clear his head.

“How do I find them?’ Lyger yelled into Church’s face as he pulled the dazed man to his feet.

“Who?” Church asked, though dazed, he still projected a sense of contempt.

“You know who. I’m looking for the Hounds.” Lyger told him.

“I don’t know, have you tried the super secret clubhouse? I’m sure if you just knock—ack!” Church’s response was cut off when Lyger grabbed the man and forced him to the edge of the roof, and began dangling him from the ledge.

“How do I find them?!” Lyger demanded again. At first Church’s only response was a shrill screech followed by crying and begging. Only when the man realized that begging wouldn’t get him anywhere, did his lips loosen.

“You—you don’t find them, they find you! I don’t know where they are, hell, I don’t know who they are.” Church cried.

“You’ve gotta do better than that.” Lyger told him as he feigned losing his grip on the man.

“I met one of them at Henshaw Park over on the West End. That’s all I know, I swear.” Church begged. Satisfied, Lyger pulled the man up and set him on his feet on the roof.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Lyger asked, not waiting for an answer, he hit the bigot with a right cross that knocked him off his feet and left him sprawled out on the rooftop before taking his leave.

Several moments passed before Church began to stir. He tried to get to his feet, but found the effort to be too much, so he simply rolled over onto his back and let out a muffled laugh, however, the pain in his jaw from the right hand that Lyger had delivered prevented him from continuing with the laughter. So he reached into his pocked and pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed a number that he had committed to memory.

“Yeah, it’s Church. He’s heading right for you guys.” He said before ending the call.

***

Lyger raced down the street in the super car Kaiju, taking hairpin turn after hairpin turn, expertly avoiding the few civilian cars that were out on the roads. With a fraction of the normal traffic on the streets, maneuvering Kaiju through Crown Ridge was much easier than usual. Lyger had to give the Hounds credit for one thing, they were effective. Not only had they put the meta human population in a panic, but that fear wasn’t confined to just the meta humans. Everyone was afraid, as was evidenced by the lack of people out on the streets tonight.

However, the solitude wouldn’t last for long. As Lyger approached Henshaw Park, he was suddenly aware that he was being followed. Several black vehicles that looked to be military in origin raced up behind him. There was a sudden crash as the first of the vehicles rammed his back bumper, causing Kaiju to veer off slightly. However, Lyger quickly regained control of the super car. Then it was rammed again, and again. Lyger struggled to maintain control of the car. He jerked the steering wheel back and forth violently until he stabilized the car, and was just about to hit the nitrous oxide reserves when another vehicle pulled out in front of him at the intersection right before the park. Lyger was about to turn the wheel to make yet another hairpin turn to avoid the vehicle when he was suddenly blinded by an intensely bright light that the incoming vehicle had activated. Lyger tried to swerve to miss the truck, but due to the light that was at least twice as bright as a spotlight that the police might use on one of their choppers, Lyger missed his mark and caused Kaiju to flip over. The super car rolled over at least a half dozen times before it finally came to a rest across the street from Henshaw Park. Lyger sat upside down, strapped into the driver’s seat for a moment while he tried to gather his bearings. Finally, he was able to get himself free from the harness that held him in place and dragged himself from the wreckage.

Flames started to dance across the frame of the wrecked vehicle as Lyger pulled himself from Kaiju. No sooner did he get free from the car, than did the vehicles that had been pursuing him race to a stop just feet in front of him. Five heavily armored, black military trucks stood just in front of him. Before he could make a move, several men emerged from each of the vehicles. Lyger counted at least thirteen men, each one carrying one heavy firepower, one of the men aimed a portable mini gun at him. Lyger prepared for a fight, but it was one that he knew he couldn’t win. However, it soon became clear to him that these men were not looking for a fight, they were planning an execution. Lyger looked around for a way out, but realized that there wasn’t one. Then, he saw the flash of the muzzle of the mini gun.
“Shit.” He whispered to himself as he waited to be torn to shreds by the heavy artillery. However, the bullets never reached him. Instead, he heard a sound, almost as if something had broken the sound barrier, then there was a sudden crash. Then Lyger saw the familiar blue and silver clad form of a man who he had fought beside before, a man who Lyger had never been happier to see.

Icon took the full brunt of the Hounds’ firepower. Instead of shredding the heroes to pieces as the Hounds had intended, the shells bounced off of Icon’s chest. While some ricocheted off of him, most fell harmlessly to the ground.

“You do know that won’t work, right?” Icon asked as the Hounds emptied their clips. “We need to talk…but first, let’s take care of these clowns.” Icon said as he turned to Lyger, before rocketing toward the group of Hounds before them.

Uskriss was down in Little Chinatown when he felt it. Deep below his feet, there was… a rumbling. Almost like an earthquake…

No wait, that was Alex Wang’s Teriyaki noodles getting to Dathan’s gut. Wincing, Uskriss waved a hand in front of his face, guiding a breeze past his nose, making sure the fart was disprersed.

”Sweet Mother Sky, Day, what in the hell? That’s rancid!”

Grinning wickedly, Dathan slurped up the last of the cheap noodles and fish, and tossed the empty paper cup, plastic fork, and used napkin into a nearby trash can. “What, Uskri, it had to come out sometime, and besides, it’s natural! Us Renores are protectors of nature and all, right?”

Calling upon Yarheg Rockmantle, his earth spirit, Uskri fixed the foundation of a dangerously-tilting apartment building, setting it straight, causing nearby pedestrians to stare at the structure in awe. ”Cow shit’s natural too, little brother, yet I still cleaned it off my boots whenever I stepped in it.”

Dathan shrugged, and was about to say something, when there was an actual earthquake, or at least, what felt like it, to Uskri and his younger brother. Nearby, pedestrians started to run in terror in every direction. It was chaos.

Grabbing his brother, and simultaneously drawing upon his astral sense, Uskri looked at his brother in the eyes, making sure he understood everything. ”I don’t know if this is a Meta attack or a magical one, but I know one thing for sure: that was most certainly not natural. Go, get these people to safety.” Nodding, Dathan ran off, shouting for people to follow him, that he’d keep them safe.

Meanwhile, Uskri went to an empty lot, and stepping into the loose dirt, started burrowing down, using his astral sense to guide him to the…. tubes(?) that were causing the disturbance.

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

After the Earth’s visions faded away David was left in a confused and drowsy state. His mind felt clouded and his vision blurred, but reality gave him a literal slap in the face when the windows in Carmine’s car shattered, the glass popped the airbag in front of him, along with cutting him across his cheek, causing him to flinch in pain.

David cursed slightly as he felt for his wound, wet, but probably not serious. After a few more collisions the dirt from the surrounding tunnel walls began to kick into the car, sparing a quick look at Carmine, David could see he was out cold, and with the airbag in the way David’s secret would be protected.

“Then it’s time.” David mumbled as he summoned the Earth’s power and a blinding light surrounded him, in an instant his body had been switched out with the one the Earth had granted him, becoming Terra Firma once again. After clicking off his and Carmine’s seatbelt, he gently held him, positioned his back against the roof, and kicked off. The sound of metal tearing echoed throughout the tunnel, as he flew up he spared a glance at the car, it’s ruined chassis began to catch flame as it fell past his view.

“Sorry.” David whispered as he flew upwards, turning and twisted as the tunnel did. He finally reached the point where they apparently fell and David felt mostly relieved, especially after seeing the crowd of people that had gathered by the hole, staring at him as he floated up. “This is actually a really dumb idea, what if whatever did this came back up?” David said as he stared back at them.

“Well, we wanted to see what did.” A couple of them replied.

Speaking of which, it would be incredibly irresponsible not to investigate. Not to mention I’m actually personally curious as well.

“Did you do this?” Someone spoke up accusingly, looks like someone had just seen the HOH announcement.

”No. But I’m going to find who or what did.” David said as he brought himself closer to the crowd, towards ground level. ”Take this man to a hospital, please.” David asked, gesturing towards anyone in the area.

“A-alright.” A slightly overweight man said as he nervously walked up, accepting Carmine’s body. “G-g-good luck down there.” And with that the man ran off, David could only trust that the other man was a good samaritan.

After casting a glance at the hole, and the crowd, David jumped down. This time his journey was much smoother.
--------------------------------
Uskriss’ time as a mole was, thankfully, quite short, as he dug himself to a tunnel rather quickly, and popped out from the dirt wall, taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with sweet, sweet oxygen.. He had air while digging, he just didn’t want to breathe in dirt, so he kept his mouth shut. Shaking his head, and flinging dirt everywhere, Uskriss looked up, and then down. There was nothing but sky overhead, so, he supposed, he must go down.

Sliding down the (oddly smooth,) tube, feet kicking up dirt and gravel, Uskriss was on high alert for anything, keeping his astral senses ready. But when he exited the tunnel, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was facing, only that it was quite… weird. Several giant wormlike creatures were crawling away into tunnels, further into the ground, and from the brief glimpse he got, Uskri didn’t like what he saw. They couldn’t possibly be natural. Something did this.

“So… What exactly am I looking at here?”

A worm dropped down a few meters away, but it continued onward by diving into another tunnel closer to the other worms.

”That’s what I want to know too.” David said as he dropped in from the same tunnel the previous worm had dropped in from.

As the worms began to clear out or move more further away, several smaller creatures revealed themselves. They angrily chittered between each other before shouting in their strange language and rushing at their two new intruders, each creature carrying some sort of spear or bladed weapon. As they closed the distance they seemed comically short, almost in the four foot range, but they all decorated themselves in some kind of bone armor, all dirtied by the dirt they seemingly lived in.

Uskri, somewhat surprised by the sudden voice, looked to the source, and saw some… flaming… fire guy. Could he have been behind this? However, Uskri wasn’t about to point any fingers, and the man DID say he wanted to know what was going on as well, so he supposed he could trust him.

While the mole people came out, Uskri studied them carefully, making sure to memorize their astral signature, which was, to be quite honest, pathetically small. Although, Uskri realized, that could work for their advantage underground. They’d be practically invisible.

”Hey there. M’name’s Uskri, you some fire spirit or something?”

As he said this, a mole man, chittering, threw a spear at the Shaman, and it flew past his head harmlessly, clattering on the rocks and gravel behind him. Cracking his knuckles, Uskriss smiled broadly, as he rushed into battle.

”So it’s gonna be like that, huh? Works for me!”

Dashing forward, almost quicker than the eye could follow, Uskri dropkicked the offending mole man, sending him flying back over his fellows, and slamming him into the wall. Leaping to his feet in one fluid motion, he started to strike at the moles around him, grinning and laughing as he dodged and parried their attacks with ease.

”Is that all you got?”

”Names Da, I mean, Terra Firma! As for the fire spirit part, heh, not quite.” David said, trying to play off his mistake with a cough. He shot his gaze at Uskri to see if he was alright as the Moloids began to rush them, he had given half a step in his direction to try to protect him. But seeing in the man in action stopped him short, if he had a mouth right now it would be wide open.

Holy shit. I need to learn how to fight like that too. Something about fire spirits too? David thought as he stared as other man continued to effortlessly toss around the moloids, but a spear whizzing past his head drew his attention back to the creatures.

”So you’re trying to be a hero too? Small city huh.” David spoke as he threw his fist into one of the many creatures swarming them, the skull helmet shattered as the creature’s body slid across the cavern. David’s own attacks weren’t anywhere near as smooth as Uskri’s own moves, but the classic one-two wasn’t failing him here.

A few of the moloids apparently gave up on the idea of fighting David and Uskri as they took a position behind their more aggressive comrades, and blew into small whistles or flutes around their necks. Several odd tunes, if you could call them that, sounded and the ground began to rumble.” Well Uskri, you asked if that was all! I think we’re about to get an encore from those worms!”

As if on cue the ground underneath David ruptured and a nightmarish maw of a hundred teeth swallowed David before he could get over the image. David managed a loud curse as he was quickly swallowed, he could feel as the teeth scratched and clawed against his new inhuman skin, but it was over quickly as he was swallowed. He tried to get a grasp on the inside of it’s ‘throat’ only to slip and fall further into it, the chunks of rock it was swallowing didn’t help either, causing him to tumble deeper in.

”No way I’m getting eaten, by some overgrown earthworm!”

His body crackled with electricity and he drove his fist into any part of the worm he could, but the rocks coming in absorbed it and shattered under his hands, or the worms own contractions threw him off balance to much to affect it. David shouted again, his body responded by this burst of emotion by surrounding itself in fire, and his body shot through the ‘top’ of the worm’s ‘throat’. It’s blood and pieces of it’s spiked carapace shot off it’s body before him, as his body dove through the air in an arc, leaving a trail of dying fire behind him as he calmed down again.

The worm hadn’t made it to it’s intended exit in time, it contorted and spazzed while David was inside, and it collapsed to the ground with a violent thud as David bursted through it’s side.

As a mole man leaped at him, shouting some chittering war cry, Uskriss punched him in the chest, sending him flying up in the air, and laughed. ”An encore, eh? Wonder who the maestro is, then!”

Punting another mole man into a group of his compatriots, Uskriss noticed the creatures pulling back, and blow on some sort of whistle. That’s when he felt the trembling below his feet. Wait, is it going for Terra Firma-

When the worm ate his firey companion, Uskriss was worried, but he couldn’t take any steps to assist him, as he was presently occupied with another one, quite similar to the one that had gobbled up his flaming friend, dropping from the ceiling, mouth-first.

Dodging to the side, Uskriss let the worm slam into the ground, and as it started to burrow through the earth quickly, he grabbed it, his broad arms barely wide enough to get a grip on it, if it wasn’t for his strength, he would’ve had no choice but to let it slip away. As it stood, though, that wasn’t going to happen.

Ripping the worm out of the earth, Uskriss, with a feral smile, began spinning it around, slamming it into the other worms that had begun to come out of the walls, ceiling, and floor, using the worm’s great bulk as a weapon. It worked pretty well, actually. The first few ranks of mole men were completely squashed, and those that weren’t defeated, scattered, running down tunnels new and old, simply hoping to get away. The worms, however, suffered a worse fate.

Imagine a train being spun around, and being used as a weapon. Now imagine that the worms in question were made of tissue paper and jelly. That’s an apt description of what happened. With his weapon battered, bloody, and the host around him decimated, Uskriss turned his attention to Terra Firma, just in time to see the fire man explode out of the worm’s mass, covering him with worm goop.

Laughing, and smiling broadly, the shaman gave two big thumbs up, and said, “THAT WAS AMAZING, MY FRIEND! COME, LET’S FIND OUT WHO’S BEHIND THIS!”

David was slightly shaken from from being swallowed, but hearing Uskriss’s enthusiastic voice centered him again. He felt like it’d be a while before he got used to how crazy having powers would be. ”Oh yeah!” David shouted back with the same amount of fervor his new ally had.

The cavern began to rumble once again, but unlike the worms this series of shaking wasn’t as violent, or loud, and footsteps could be heard, much like a marching band.

”Or an army.” David had mumbled out as he was thinking, trying to narrow in on the sound.

From the far side of the room he could see several moloids in some kind of formation. Their armor was decorated in gems in certain places, like an honor guard of some kind. Several others accompanied this forward guard on the sides, hoisting several large gold statues on their backs. If one had to guess, they’d be around the ten foot range, the statues themselves depicted a moloid standing with one foot above a pile of skull and bones, and the other stepping over another far smaller moloid, it wasn’t as armored as the other soldier creatures. Because it didn’t need to be perhaps.

Shortly after the ‘honor guard’ appeared, another contingent of worker moloids appeared, hoisting some large monument of some kind, it was decorated in gems.

”A bit tacky, maybe?”David had again spoke his mind without meaning to.

Uskriss scratched his beard. ”I dunno, it has its’ appeal. Post...moledernism.”

A smaller group of moloids emerged from behind the honor guards, moving faster, a perk of being unarmored perhaps. The new moloids took a position near the statues and began playing their odd bone instruments, the instruments were all in sync, clearly practiced. As the song played on the moloids holding up the monument began to turn it sideways, it took almost a minute for them to completely turn it, revealing it to actually be a throne of some kind.

The figure seated looked like the one depicted on the statues, obviously supposed to be the same creature. Except it barely rose past the throne’s armrest, at a distance it seemed to be barely half a normal moloid’s height.

”He’s a….midget?”

Uskriss, managing to keep a straight face, slapped Terra Firma’s flaming arm gently. ”C’mon, man, they prefer to be called ‘height-challenged mole-freaks. Be more sensiti- pffffffffft. Yeah, looks like it. At least, a midget as much as these midgets can get.”

David had every intention of being serious, after all it’s his life on the line, but he couldn’t keep it in either. Uskriss was saying what he was thinking after all, so David allowed himself to laugh, and laugh he did. Their chuckling filled the chamber, it echoed back and forth between the walls, the figure on the throne seem to vibrate in anger as their laughing only increased.

The figure tried to get their attention, but it came out as a squeak and went unnoticed by the two heroes. It bounced into a standing position on it’s throne, it spoke again, but this time in english. Albeit, a squeaky, almost hard to hear, english.

“Behold, I am, Titanus Maximus the Giant. Cower in fear before me!”

”Fear you? When we can barely hear you? If your soldiers are anything to go by you’re chump change.” David said as he pointed at Titanus with his finger mockingly.

Uskriss had similar views on the “dread overlord” before them. ”I mean no offense, great lord,” he struggled to keep a straight face as he said this, ” but, well… your soldiers are pushovers, and you don’t seem to be a…. bigger threat than they were.”

David couldn’t help it as he snickered at Uskriss’s last comment. I can’t believe I took this guy seriously.

“Thou shalt pay for thine insults! Face ultimate retribution!” Titanus squeaked loudly at them, and in but a moment he closed the distance between him and the heroes. Titan then slammed both of his tiny hands down onto the ground, and a shockwave of sound began to ring out.

”What the h-”David was cut off as he was blown back several meters by the unexpected attack. Soundwaves, again? I barely got over that headache from that Berenice lady. Aaagghhh. David groaned to himself.

Uskriss, however, managed to hold his ground by sinking into the earth up to his knees, and bracing for the impact. It still almost bowled him over,though, causing him to lean back, as if he were doing the limbo.

After the shock wave passed, he climbed out of the holes, and, once he stood up, looked up at the midget king.

[color-Tan]”Neat trick, tiny-”[/color] But suddenly his face was full of midget moloid foot, and he was flying back to where Terra lay. Landing hard, he rubbed his neck, which was now sore.

”....Ow. Terra, my friend, I believe we may have underestimated our enemy here.”

”You’re tellin me.”David replied, his headache would be here to stay.
Titan was faster than he was, but he had some semblance of a plan. Much like earlier inside the worm, David drew upon his lightning powers, his body began to crackle with energy all over, like the beginnings of a storm cloud.

Come on, just try and touch me. Midget.David taunted, his arms played out, ready to catch him.

“Fool Titanus has downed you once, Titanus shall and can, do it again!” The moloid ruler rushed David again, but this time he crashed against his body, and bounced back, leaving a trail of smoke to mark his fall.

“I-I was the fool, I did not yet recognize that sound, I shall not fall for such trickery again! Your friend can move the Earth, but can you!” Titanus taunted back to David, with a wave of his hand the ground suck beneath him, and collapsed around his neck.

Uskriss reached out to free Terra Firma, only to be interrupted by Titanus sending a shockwave at him, from behind a column of Moloid soldiers. Flying through the air, screaming wildly, the Moloids came upon him, like a cloud of death. Uskriss had barely enough time to curse before he was dogpiled by tiny mole people, each trying, (and failing,) to harm him with their tiny spears.

David grunted as the floor collapsed around him, and he had the sneaking suspicion it was continuing to swallow him. He tried to give it a budge with his strength, but he found that with the rocks choking his body so tightly, he couldn’t find any leverage, couldn’t break out, and by now he had sunk to his eyes. Even some of the weaker moloids had come over to rub it in, kicking dirt in his face.

This is so lame. Wait, my powers come from the Earth, this should be in my abilities, shouldn’t it? It has to.

David felt out, like trying to stretch another limb, no, rather it was another feeling. Something that had been repressed this whole time, the Earth. He could feel nearby movements in the ground, the moloid soldiers, Uskriss, and Titan.

”Yes, time to live up to my namesake!”David shouted as the Earth around him burst open, allowing him to jump up, and as he landed the ground reformed under him. The moloids that had surrounded him earlier were blown away, across in the room in various directions.

Uskriss, as quickly as he was trapped, he was freed. Standing up, and dusting his jacket off, he looked at Terra, and grinned, nodding his thanks.

”C’mon, let’s finish this!”

Pulling deeper on the earth than he had ever done before, Uskriss’ power grabbed onto a thread, and he tugged. Half of the room jerked violently in the air, tossing up the Moloid army, wrecking the statues, and hopefully unbalancing Titan.
”Hell yeah, let’s end this!”David shouted back, he was in it, the moment. When people talk about things they’d remember, when adrenaline enhances perception, this was it. He was feeling a type of synergy he’d never felt before, other feelings surfaced in this moment but he ignored them, he’d only need a few.

Drawing on the power of the Earth, in a very literal way now, David thrust at the room, and his half jumped as with an intensity one could only hope to see in an earthquake. Almost like shaking out a new rug, his half joined Uskriss’ and the Moloid army juggled upwards, it was almost comical to see them waving their limbs mid air.

”Teamwork!”



As if in sync both Terra Firma and Uskriss jutted their hands out, and slammed them into the ground. The air around every moloid, especially Titanus, ionized and electrified in an instant. Lightning cracked and shot out at each and everyone of the creatures, slamming them down into the ground with a fury they had never felt before. Each collision left a crater under their still smoking bodies, none of them were left standing. Both Uskriss and Terra Firma stood back up, side by side, and lightly tapped their fists against each other.

”I think I speak for the both of us when I say that was pretty damn awesome.”

”Oh hell yes.” David nodded approvingly.

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

Dusting off his leather jacket, Uskriss cracked his back, as he flew up the tunnel, next to Terra Firma.

Making small talk, Uskriss asked, ”So, Terra, how’d you find yourself down here, my man? I felt something that tweaked my astral nose, so to speak. I’m a shaman, and all that jazz.”

”Heh,would you believe, I fell in?.....About earlier, when you asked if I was a fire spirit. I’m not going to lie and say I know what that is, but maybe it’s not so far from the truth. I’m the vessel for the Earth’s power, an avatar, no, Guardian of the Earth.”

Both Uskriss and Terra Firma gently landed back on the surface, the edge of one of the tunnels that the pet moloid worms had opened. Together they closed it off, hiding that it ever happened, and the street was mostly restored. The people would thank them for removing those potholes.
Seeing that nobody was around David took in a breath. ”You showed me your face, and you probably gave me your real name, I’ll do the same to you.” Light exploded softly off his body, and the surroundings grew dark again in a moment. David had shrunk from his seven foot form, back down to his six feet sized human body, and he held out his hand towards Uskriss.

“My name is David Jones, call on me, if you ever need my help.”

Taking David’s hand, Uskri let out a loud, booming laugh. ”Alright! I suppose I’ll see you around, then! It’s a small city for people such as us, after all!” Giving it a firm shake, Uskriss began walking down the city streets, back to where Day was waiting in Little Chinatown.

He saved part of the city from a major threat, and made a new friend as well. Uskriss would count this as a good day.

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

David smiled back as they shook hands, and parted a moment after that. His second hero, not counting the harpy lady, he was still confused on that, had gone very well. A friend made, and a new power unlocked, today was a good time. But now it was time to check local hospitals.

---

Night feel across the city. Draping the street outside the old Fensdale Apartments in a blanket of darkness. The beaten asphalt road and worn concrete sidewalks it overlooked became obscured, almost deformed with the coming of the night. Battered street lamps lining the road cast aged orange light from their dying candescent bulbs. Their illumination was menial, creating little more than small orange ponds of light amongst the dark.

Rain fell across the city. The wetness and saturation hung in the air, giving even the crumbling bricks of the apartment a slick and glossy look in the dim light. Droplets struck the rooftops, ground, and fire escape in light sheets. Their pattering against the various materials unleashed a quiet song into the still city night.

It was the sound of rain that masked the opening of one of the apartment windows and the squeak of boots on the fire escape. A young boy, no older than thirteen, slide out of the window and closed it behind him. He was shrouded in the darkness of the fire escape but as he approached the railing, the light of the street below illuminated his face.

Garfield “Gum” Ubally Miller Ballsworth’s maroon eyes dilated. The perky feline ears sticking through his mess of blue hair twitched as he picked up the sounds of distant traffic, shouts from nearby apartments, and the occasional gunshot through the drowning fall of water around him. A giddy smile cross his face and though the cloth around his mouth hid it, the long thin blue tail sticking out the back of his pants made his joy clear.

It undulated in excitement, swaying and waving without the boy even realizing what it was doing.

“This is so awesome!” Gum said aloud to himself, only barely restraining his voice as he curled his fingers around the railing of the fire escape. It’d been ages since had managed to slip out of the house. Before he’d gotten sick and sprouted his new parts, sneaking out at night had been a breeze. The moment started sporting ears and a tail was when his parents, even his little sister, seemed to watch and listen to his every move.

During the day he couldn’t leave the house without a hat all but glued to his head and his tail wrapped around his waist like a belt. It was suffocating and Gum had waited for a chance to simply be by himself. That night his mother had all but collapsed after returning home from a late shift. His father had passed out on the couch like he typically did and his normally vigilant sister had crashed after Gum had ‘shared’ his stash of overly sugary candy.

“Now that they’re out of my hair I can finally have some fun. Let’s see just what I can do…”

Throwing his legs over the railing Gum hung from the fire escape. He felt the cool rain pelt his face and looked down. His family lived on the fifth floor of a six story apartment. Being bad at math Gum wasn’t entirely sure how much distance there was between him and the ground, but the queasiness in his stomach made it feel like a lot.

“Come on. Can’t chicken out now. All superheroes can do crazy stuff. The only way you’ll find out what you can do is if you try. Just let go, drop to the ground, and…” Gum hesitated, flicking his eyes back to the pavement below as his heart began to audible beat in his ears. “On second thought maybe dropping from one of the lower-”

The young cat boy shifted his hands on the railing, only for the wet metal to slip from his grasp. In an instant he was falling, dropping like a stone. His stomach felt like it was worming it’s way into his throat as an invisible hand dragged him towards the cold, hard, unforgiving earth. Adrenaline spiked through his veins and in a panic Gum lashed out.

With blinding speed one of his free hands caught the railing of the fire escape below where he had fallen, his stomach and legs colliding with the side of the fire escape as his descent was stopped. He winced at the impact and breathed heavily, only barely suppressing a shout as he clung to the railing with shaking hands.

It was only when he realized just how easy it was to hang from the railing that his panic died. Glancing down at the levels of the fire escape below him Gum reaffirmed his grip, took a deep breath, and intentionally let go. Like before he fell but this time he was ready and with quick fingers he grabbed the next set of railing with a dull groan of the metal from his wait.

Barely wasting a second Gum threw himself downwards to the next level of the fire escape managing to land on the railing with his feet and kick off. In three quick motions the thirteen year old descended the fire escape and hit the ground beneath the apartment feet first.

Breathing heavily Gum looked up, amazed at just how his starting point seemed at the bottom. What would have taken him a minute or two to climb down using the stairs he had cleared in a few seconds. Heart still hammering behind his ribs the young boy threw up his arms and cried out.

“YEAH! I REALLY DO HAVE SUPER POWERS!”

His excitement was short lived was he quickly cupped his mouth, remembering he was supposed to be sneaking out and quickly began to move down the street as lights on the second floor apartment began to come on. Running, boots slapping the wet concrete, Gum threw out his hands and did a cartwheel. He’d never taken gymnastics, but his muscles, the very fibers of his body carried him with a newfound ease he only now recognized.

Gum ran, pushing himself harder and harder until he cut through the rain and the night like a knife. He moved faster than an olympic athlete, occasionally jumping over parked cars and swinging from hanging street signs, laughing like the little boy he still was. It wasn’t long before his ears began to wildly twitch, picking up shouting, breaking glass, and then a series of rapid gun shots.

“That definitely sounds like a job for uh, well me I guess.”

Determining the direction of the noise Gum ran, legs, and lungs pumping as he closed distance with what he had heard. From the noises alone the whole thing smelt like a late night robbery in progress. As he approached the young boy expected to see a ransacked jewelry store, or a gas station, or an overturned armored card with fat bags of money spread out across the pavement.

Instead Gum slid to a stop in the poorly lit parking lot, staring at the shattered windows of a large yet unappealing looking store. His eyes flicked up to the large white neon sign that loomed over top of the store front itself.



“Oh you've got to be kidding..."

“While these are only preliminary results, the analysis is astounding.” Doctor Roy Albright told Chris over the communication monitor. While Chris was a natural genius, he also knew that he was not an expert in every single scientific field. While he could design and build technology for almost any purpose, Chris needed to collaborate with other great minds to get him started in the right direction. In this case, Chris was investigating the three incidents where certain individuals had memories wildly different from reality.

“It took me a while to find it, but I think I finally have a potential answer for you. After we received the cell samples, we compared the frequency at which they were vibrating with those of some of our lab assistants. After a thorough examination, we discovered that the three samples had different frequencies than the control samples. And we’re only talking about decimals here, so the differences are easily missed or chalked up to rounding.”

“Are you sure this is causing the faulty memories?” Chris purposefully neglected to mention that his sister losing her powers was also a symptom, but that information was only available on a need-to-know basis.

“We can’t say for sure, but it is a possibility.” Doctor Albright mentioned.

“Alright, Albright. Keep me in the loop.” Chris then disconnected from the video call and switched off the monitor. At least this gave him a lead on whatever was going on. However, there was still one question that was left unanswered. What caused these changes in atomic frequencies?

Before he could think more on this problem, a new one fell into his lap. The monitor immediately activated again on its own. The screen initially displayed a short warning message before cutting to the security feed of the front entrance of his mansion. A dozen or so men dressed black tactical gear, no doubt the Hounds, were rigging explosives on Chris’ front door.

“George, get everyone one to the panic room!” Chris called over the intercom. However, Chris did not wait to receive a response from his butler since he was already prepping his Iron Knight armor for combat. Chris had a secret backdoor installed that was perfect for this situation. Instead of waiting inside for the Hounds to break in, Chris could flank them from behind.

Once his armor was all prepped for launch, Chris traveled down the tunnel that lead to the backdoor exit and flew out. He soared around his mansion and positioned himself behind the Hound soldiers.

“You do know that it’s quite rude to blow up someone’s front door, right? You’re just lucky I have insurance.”

The Hound goons swiftly turned around to face Chris. They were a little startled by his appearance, since they believed that they had the element of surprise on their side. However, they had enough composure to hold it together and open fire on Chris. However, the barrage of bullets were all blocked by the energy shield that Chris’ armor could create.

Shield levels are remaining at 99.980550751074677…

“I don’t need that many decimals.” Chris cut off his armor’s operating system before it began to rattle off several hundred more decimal places. While his shield was deflecting the Hounds’ bullets, his targeting system was locking onto the dozen men. Once these armed men halted their gun fire, since it was all too apparent that they were just wasting bullets, Chris threw out a quick quip before launching a counter attack.

“I guess it’s my turn.” Chris deactivated his energy shield and then launched enough tranquilizers for each of the armed men. When the darts struck them, each of the Hounds dropped to the ground like ragdolls.

“GG.” Chris taunted, even though he knew that the knocked-out men could not hear him. He then examined the explosives that the Hounds had set up. They seemed eerily familiar. Were they S.T.R.I.K.E. issue explosives?

WARNING: INCOMING PROJECTILES – energy shield activation advised

Chris turned on his energy shield just in the nick of time, since almost as soon as it was activated, Chris was pummeled with a barrage of missiles and energy blasts.

Shield levels have dropped to 13.190825930583559…percent. Evasive action is advised.

When the barrage of weapons had finally ceased, a figure floated down to the ground. He was wearing a suit of armor that was almost identical to Chris’, although it was way more heavily equipped with deadly ordinances. Also, instead of having a Corinthian style helmet, this man had a helmet that had a skull-shaped faceplate.

“Your judgement day has come.” The man inside the power suit threatened, his voice deepened by the audio-system that allowed him to speak. “And the Judicator has sentenced you to death.”

---

Marie paced back and forth in front of the window overlooking the street, eyes still glazed with sleep, hair pulled back, still wet from the shower she’d taken in an attempt to invigorate herself and awaken her dulled senses. Her chase for Ben the morning before had left her exhausted and despite having expended nearly all of her energy during negotiations, Marie managed to stay awake the rest of the day, finally crashing at around 6 p.m. and waking at 8 a.m. Fourteen hours of sleep and yet still drained.

It made sense to Marie. After she’d returned to The Red Devil, instead of flying swiftly home and getting a well deserved rest, she hogged the workroom trying to get a hit on the next artifact. As she might have expected, her time was wasted looking through vague accounts of Gwyneth she’d managed to dig up months prior during her initial search for information. Not only was she unable to divine any relevant information about the next item, whatever it may be, Puck was nowhere to be found and thus could not offer his cryptic wisdom.

Even after returning home in what felt like an eternity, Marie was reminded of her long list of failures and misadventures. Her flat was littered with open tomes, scraps of parchment and paper she’d wadded up and neglected to toss, and minor charms and trinkets she’d attempted to use in various spells and rituals to locate anything remotely related to Gwyneth.

Holt, who lay dormant in an oil lamp-turned-spirit vessel at one end of the studio apartment, took note of Marie’s worried movements.

What is the matter? He questioned in his normal dry tone, moving from the lantern in the form of a thick mist and manifesting as a jet-black cat sauntering about the room. Surely you should count this as a victory. The boy agreed to help you, which means that you are one step closer than before. Much closer, in fact, given you now possess Gwyneth’s Eye.

Marie shook her head as she paced, eyes fixed on a park bench across the street from her apartment complex. She let out a heavy sigh as her first reply, and with it, expressed her deep sense of worry and unease.

”I know, Marie stood still as she spoke, gaze still glued to the scene outside, ”I know that everything should feel better now that I’ve got a little more direction . . . but it doesn’t. Even with the Eye and Ben’s help, I still don’t know what the hell I’m looking for, or where I should be looking. I can’t just carry the kid around the country hoping he picks up on something. And that’s another thing . . .”

Marie turned and faced Holt, lowering herself onto the floor, back against the window.

”I have to work in a team again and I don’t know if I’m ready for that, especially not this one. Ben’s the only one who trusts me. The twins are suspicious and the magicians want me dead, not exactly the ideal team. At least with S.T.R.I.K.E. I could be a little detached, but this is personal. I NEED Ben’s help, and he’s expecting me to be this picture of morality and atone for my sins.” Marie shook her head, spitefully letting out those last few words.

”Be honest,” Marie’s spoke to Holt in a low, somber tone, ”Is it wrong for me to admit that I don’t really care about my part in whatever Broker is planning? Sure, it’s probably something horrible and unimaginable, but we had a deal that both parties honored. Is it wrong for me to want to leave it at that regardless of the consequences?”

Holt met Marie’s gaze, brow furrowed and forming a stern expression with his feline features.

You are a witch, Marie. It is that simple. Your kind do not linger on such things as guilt nor trouble themselves with fanciful things like morality. Furthermore, it is not my place to comment on the desires or whims of my masters. Your goals became mine the moment I came into your service, but if it comforts you to know that I have aided past witches in far more sinister deeds than this, very few of whom had any regrets about such workings, then I will not hide that fact.

It wasn’t really the answer Marie was looking for, but it’s what she expected from a being like Holt. Though it did little to calm her nerves, Holt’s words comforted her all the same. She’d heard something similar before from Joseph and any reminder of the time they had shared was welcome.

Letting out another sigh, Marie lifted herself from the floor and began packing a small suitcase full of necessities. She imagined that Rune’s search would take some time and it was far more convenient to rest on scene than having to pop back in from The Red Devil every few hours. Puck had a few associates in Nevada, most notably a large coven known locally as The Five Families. With luck, she’d be able to find one of their meeting places or strongholds and rest there instead of spending a fortune on a hotel room.

Holt watched as Marie filed random assortments of clothes, toiletries, makeup, and witching supplies into her suitcase. He took mental note of their conversation. This was the change Puck had described, the slow descent he’d envisioned. Marie wasn’t acting like herself, or rather, she was acting too much like herself. Holt knew little of Gwyneth, but he knew enough about Marie to see the clear differences in her behavior within the past few months. Her obsession felt more to him like instinct. Whatever the case, he would help her as was his charge and continue to monitor her as Puck had instructed, though if Marie ever caught wind of it, he would be forced to do as she commanded.

With the last of her belongings neatly tucked away inside her suitcase, Marie readied herself for the trip to Vegas. She didn’t have the energy to try to put on too much face, opting for some simple pastel gloss and eyeshadow to make her look a little lively, as well as some strategically placed highlighter to catch the lights of the city. Once her hair was dried, she combed it out and laid it over her shoulder, covering one of the straps of a simple white sundress with a black belt, covering the top of her head with a similarly colored, wide-brimmed sunhat. Around her neck was the signature glamour charm to conceal her identity.

Once Marie was relatively pleased with her appearance, she took her suitcase in hand, grabbed a separate bag from her closet which housed her White Witch get-up and a few other witchy baubles, took her broom in the opposite hand, Holt tucked away inside the lantern at the broom’s mantle, and opened a door to The Red Devil which Puck himself had placed shortly after Marie signed on with him. From there, she entered another of Puck’s doors and left for Las Vegas, hoping to do a bit of sightseeing and establishing a base of operations before the others arrived.

---

---

Puck’s door opened to an alley next to the burnt remains of the Faerie club, Pixy Stix. Marie had been so busy as of late that she’d almost forgotten about the Hounds of Humanity cretins that had been terrorizing members of the magical community across the U.S. Marie bowed to the corpse of the building while Holt hissed at the HoH propaganda that littered the building's ashes.

We may encounter these fools while here, Marie. I would advise caution. They have already taken a group of witches in Salem. Holt issued the mental warning, perched on Marie’s shoulder as an ethereal raven.

Marie moved a little closer, staying out of the street and minding the police tape around the ruined entrances.

And they’ll pay for their actions dearly. They have no idea what they’re up against and I can’t imagine that the Faerie Courts of this world and the next aren’t planning some sort of revenge. Same with the American witches and sorcerers.

Marie spotted a few roaming sylphs and mourning fey women dressed in white. She didn’t want to approach them out of respect for their grieving, but she needed information on where she could find one of the Five’s sanctuaries.

Upon seeing Marie, the wandering faeries immediately flocked to her location, the sprites flittering about her head, one resting on the brim of her hat, the three tall fey, each with distinctly wild, animalistic features on their faces, circling around her in a sort of embrace.

Marie knew she was in no danger, she could clearly see that each of them meant no ill will, but she was surprised to receive such a welcome, especially considering she hadn’t done much work for the fey before.

Holt cocked his head, exuding a warmth that felt to Marie like joy.

”Welcome, my lady,” one of the fey maidens spoke quietly, her voice echoing on a soft, sweet breeze. She spoke in English, surprisingly. ”We wondered when your mistress might send one of hers to deal with the human filth who burned our loved ones.”

Marie was utterly confused.

”M-my mistress? I’m sorry, I think you may have me confused for someone e . . .”

”The Witch-Mother,” the fey woman interrupted, ”surely she sent you to investigate the matter?” She looked hopeful.

Marie’s jaw dropped. She was nearly floored by the mention of the Witch-Mother, how these fey spoke of her so candidly.

Hekate? Holt interjected. The Witch-Mother, Hekate, is here in Las Vegas?

One of the sprites overhead nodded.

”She’s been here for a few months working with The Five, noble families of witches who migrated west in the early days of the colonies. Are you not a member of The Five?”

Marie shook her head, even more stunned than a moment before. To know that Hekate was so near, physically interacting with such a large collection of witches, was amazing; it was beyond amazing. Not even Bucca was so open.

”I was unaware of the Witch-Mother’s presence, I’ve only just arrived in the area.”

The fey all looked rather dejected, obviously expecting Hekate to help them enact some sort of vengeance on the Hounds.

”But,” Marie added before they had a chance to leave, ”I do work closely with Puck and hoped that I might meet with a few of his associates in The Five. If you could point me in the direction of their strongholds, I might be able to speak with them on your behalf.”

It was a stretch, but it was all she could offer. Luckily, it was enough.

The sprites spoke with the fey maidens in an uncommon dialect, perhaps one native to the Americas or this area specifically. After a short concession, they turned back to Marie and nodded.

”Alright,” one of the sprites addressed her with a high voice, ”there is a small building near the lake in Henderson. Inside is a mirror that leads to the Lachance family stronghold. Genevieve Lachance is the most hospitable leader of The Five and will take in almost any stray witch to pass through. She will help you, but when you arrive, please inform her that we wish to hear from the Witch-Mother soon.”

Marie nodded in compliance.

”I will do just this, thank you for your help. And may those murderous bastards be dealt swift justice.”

The faeries smiled, hope filling their eyes. They left Marie’s sight in their own ways, some in swirling lights, some fading into the wind, some speeding off into the distance. One they had all gone, Marie issued a mental command to Holt to shield them from mortal eyes. The pair hopped aboard the broom, Holt perched at the front like the figurehead on a ship. As they began their ascent, black vapors poured from Holt’s body and enveloped them, causing them to be unseen. Off they flew to the Lachance stronghold.

The Raptor Pack only had seconds to catch their breaths, since the Hounds were already filing out of Adams Hall and creating a perimeter around Jefferson Hall, where the Raptor Pack had escaped to during the onset of the Hounds’ surprise attack. The Hounds had a sense of urgency in their step because they knew that they would find themselves in a precarious position whenever the police would arrive. The besiegers could easily find themselves being besieged if they were not careful.

A few of the Hounds had already been stationed in Jefferson Hall just in case a situation, like the one that just happened, occurred. One of these men had rushed up the three flights of stairs to reach the rooftop and kicked open the roof access door. He raised up his assault rifle to his shoulder, preparing to fire. However, before he could get any lead off, someone had already cleared the distance between them and knocked the man off his feet.

“Need a little help here.” Zac called back to the others. During the impact of being tackled, the Hound goon dropped his firearm. A struggle ensued as Zac tried to restrain the man from grabbing the gun again, despite his height disadvantage.

Kelly and Sammy leaped up to their feet and rushed over to help Zac out. Sammy knocked the gun out of the man’s reach with her foot, while Kelly mangled the inside handle of the rooftop access door so that the Hounds would be hindered, if not completed blocked, from stepping foot on the roof. Kelly then turned to give Zac a hand.

“Hold him still. I don’t want to sting you,” Kelly told Zac as she unsheathed the stinger on her wasp abdomen. Both men immediately paused when they heard Kelly speak and nervously stared at the barb that Kelly was threatening the Hound goon with. The man in the military gear then began to flail, trying to escape from Zac’s grasp so that he would not be stung by Kelly. The wasp girl hesitated for a moment, since she did not want to strike Zac by mistake. When she decided that she could not hit the Hound goon with pinpoint accuracy, Kelly decided to plant her foot in the man’s back to hold him still and then stab him with her wasp barb.

The man screamed as Kelly stung him. However, his voice fell silent once the paralysis caused by Kelly’s wasp barb kicked in, knocking the man out cold. He lay there motionless.

“I won’t lie. That’s terrifying.”

“It’s not my favorite ability,” Kelly admitted while she blushed with her cheeks turning a light orange color.

“Now, all we have to figure out is how we’re going to get off of this rooftop.”

"It is of no use, Monsutāneko-san," Typhoon lamented. "I do not believe your techniques are working." MonsterK4t, undeterred, fiddled with his sensors again one last time. The Hounds foot soldier propped up on the couch flinched violently, his whole body shaking from the audio waves bombarding his senses.

"Where. Did. You. Take. Jordan?" Kira demanded, keeping a vice like grip on his collar the entire time she spoke. "WHERE?" The soldier stared up at his captor as he painfully contorted his pale, sweating face into a sneer.

"M-m-mutie...s-s-scum..." He chuckled painfully through the spasms in his face. Kira, breathing heavily, released her hands from around the soldier's neck, wordlessly turning to face the wall.

"I've never seen his interrogation waves fail," the robot ninja mused as MonsterK4t gave a beep that conveyed annoyance. "Perhaps these Hounds of Humanity have some sort of training to-KUSO!"

Typhoon leapt backwards and rushed to draw his blade by instinct as Kira suddenly spun around, leapt on top of the sofa with enough force to send both her and the soldier tumbling off the back, and started slamming both fists into the Hound soldier's face.

"YOU. FASCIST. SCUM!" she screamed, punctuating every word with a blow. "WHERE. THE. HELL. DID. YOUR. GOOSE. STEPPING. FRIENDS. TAKE. HER?" The soldier sputtered, blood pouring from a broken nose as he tried helplessly to fight back. She swung her fist back for another go before someone caught it. Fury roaring in her chest, she spun around to look up at Typhoon, his robotic mask flecked with the blood that clung to her knuckles.

"Fullbright-san..." he said, sounding oddly serene. It was enough to bring her crashing back to earth as her blind fury faded. Still breathing heavily, Kira shook off the robot's grip and stood up, making sure to step on the Hound troopers's fingers as she made her way to the other end of the couch, tears streaming down her face. This...this was never supposed to happen, Kira thought to herself. She had planned for so many outcomes of her occupation; hidden bank accounts if she needed a bailout, written confessions if she had to vanish, special arrangements in case she didn't make it home one day. But that had all been for Fullbright; Kira never considered the fact that Jordan would have gotten hurt. Jordan was so tough and headstrong...it never felt like anything COULD hurt her.

"It seems that interrogation was unhelpful," Typhoon interjected as MonsterK4t dragged the soldier by the legs out into the hallway. "To that end, I suspect our next goal would be to track down-"

"Typhoon, I don't-" Kira began before MonsterK4t made a whistling sound in the hallway.

"Monsutāneko-san is correct, our honor and friendship demands that we assist you in this rescue." Typhoon replied. "Besides, if we let you go alone we would have come anyway at the last minute, and I do not wish to participate in that trope while our time is limited. Perhaps later." Kira couldn't help but crack a smile at that line, but joking aside they would need help to track down these Hounds.

"Alright...l-let's try to figure this out," Kira said unsteadily, trying to stave off the roller coaster of emotions until they at least had a plan. "Fangs loves breaking and entering so we'll need her. Amorphous said he was busy, but I know there's some new blood downtown that-"

MonsterK4t beeped sharply as he reentered the living room, prompting more stares from Kira and Typhoon.

"Maji?"

"You're joking right?" The DJ beeped again in response to confirm that he was not. "Monster, that's a really bad idea," Kira continued, rubbing her temples in frustration. "She'll probably turn us in the moment we find her."

"Actually..." Typhoon interjected. "She has fought me with honor before. Perhaps she will show honor and help us-"

"We are NOT going to get Voyager to help us. Sure she's nice but-"

More beeps and whistles.

"Yes I know she's always friendly, but-"

"It's very likely we will have the same enemies as she does."

"Typhoon, you're not helping..."

Another low whistle.

"How is her being cute relevant?"

"Well she could be-"

"Guys, ENOUGH!" Kira shouted, the lights in the room brightening around her as she raised her voice. "We're NOT recruiting Voyager to this mission!" To signal an end to the discussion she strode over to the side table and picked up her phone. "Right, I'm going to get a hold of Fangs. We're not going to get that uppity celebrity superhero involved, and that's final."

-----

The announcement of the Hound's arrival sent shockwaves across Pacific Point that night, and nowhere was it felt more acutely then at an inconspicuous nightclub just off the pier called Logan's. While to many it was just another cheesy midnight hangout, and not a very memorable one at that, to a select few it was a premier destination for people with unusual abilities and strange mutations. Logan's was a neutral ground of sorts, where metahumans and other gifted individuals could just hang out and unwind, whether they were active superheroes, nefarious villains, or just otherwise normal people trying to live their lives. And fortunately for the patrons of Logan's quite a few of them had predictive abilities telling them that the Hounds were on the way, so by the time the Hounds strike team broke into the secret area in the back, all they found was a empty room and a note or two requesting that the unwelcome guests perform feats that were anatomically impossible as the last few guests slipped out the secret escape routes. Two of the last guests to escape emerged from a fake basement area below the street level a block down the road.

"Whew, when the psychics said the Hounds were armed, they weren't kidding," Fangs remarked as she shouldered open the door. "Those guys make the city SWAT teams look like a knitting circle."

"Still wish we could have stayed to fight them," grumbled the girl following Fangs out, dressed in a blouse and blue skirt as a counterpoint to Fang's tank top and jeans combo, her eyes hidden behind a blue, wing-shaped mask. "Those goons sounds like they could use a good beating."

"I like the way you think," Fangs remarked with a toothy smile before poking her head over the edge of the lowered area to get a look around. "Don't see any military-looking goons around, think I can make a run for the alley and slip away. Do you need a lift home or...?"

"Nah, I can fly," the girl said, demonstrating by floating a few inches off the ground. "I'd offer to carry you, but I think we'd be kinda noticeable."

"Darn, that'd be pretty funny to see too," the tarantula girl said with a snicker as the pair of them emerged onto the relatively abandoned streets. "I'm Fangs, by the way."

"Yeah, I heard of you on the news. I'm Me-...er, call me Reisen."

"Ah, an alter ego! Planning to get into the supervillain racket?" Fangs said with a wink and a friendly elbowing with both of her right arms.

"I'm thinking about it," Reisen admitted, curling a lock of her hair.

"Well if you do, let me know. I can always give you a few pointers and connect you with the right-"

Their conversation was cut short, however, when the pair of them turned into an alley and came face to face with a pair of men in black armor, scouring the alleyway in case anyone who got out was making the same exact move that Fangs and Reisen were doing. The Hounds stared between the four-armed tarantula and the girl floating through the air next to her, the black-armored goons sharing a look that was best suited for oncoming traffic. For a second it seemed like nothing was going to happen, until...

"SHIT, CONTACT! WE HAVE METAS!" The pair of them raised their firearms, but Reisen was faster, and with a great rush of wind the two of them were blown off their feet, thrown down the alley like discarded newspapers.

"We need to get out of here!"

Fangs didn't need reminding as she took off in the opposite direction, Reisen flying right behind her. Tires screeched in the streets behind them as they ran for their lives, Fang's speed just barely matching that of her flying friend. There was a sharp crack and Fangs felt something miss her neck by a milometer.

"Snipers!" Fangs shouted as a warning. "Hurry, into this sidestreet, I have an escape route!" The pair of them made another sharp turn as more cracks sounded, Reisen shouting out in alarm as a shot flew close to her as well.

"That...was too close," the blue-masked girl panted, clutching at her side.

"You're telling me, I thought I was dead for sure..."

And then there was light. A spotlight to be exact, set up perfectly to blind them as they walked right into a trap. As her eyes adjusted, Fangs spotted the outline of the black-armored men, surrounding them on three sides.

"Nice try, metahuman, scum," one of them taunted. "On my mark! FIRE!"

Before anyone even took aim, there was a deafening bang as the spotlight behind the soldiers exploded, sending glass into the air like shrapnel. As the light dropped and her sight went back to normal, she threw up her arms to protect herself and Reisen from the flying glass, but despite the screams as glass scattered across the black-armored soldiers, nothing seemed to hit them. The men who were still standing regained their senses and retrained their weapons at the sky behind them.

"Holy shit," Reisen suddenly spoke up. "Fangs...it's her!"

Fangs turned around, seeing just about the last person she expected to run into tonight, hovering above them like she was floating in the ocean. Her suit was torn in places and covered in soot, but there was no question about who it was; Voyager. And yet, she couldn't help but feel something was wrong. She was bathed in that purple light that showed up when she shot those bolts, and her eyes were filled with that same light, her brow furrowed in a determined scowl that was very much unlike her.

Also, she was pretty sure that Voyager couldn't fly.

"It's the xeno, kill it, kill it!" But the order went unanswered. With a flick of her neck, the guns all flew out of the soldier's hands and onto the ground. They scrambled, some going for their weapons, and others pulling out sidearms to keep fighting as Voyager silently picked them off one by one, slowly descending to the ground. Some went down felled by the familiar purple bolts, leaving smoking marks on their chests where they struck home. Others left the ground and flew into their friends, Voyager's hand guiding them like a puppeteer. One man pulled a grenade and hurled it desperately into the air; it stopped midair and crumpled into dust as Voyager responded by slamming him into the ground so hard that the pavement cracked. Voyager turned to the last man standing as he picked up his sidearm and aimed it at Fangs and Reisen, his hand shaking so badly it was hard to tell who he was threatening.

"You come any closer and I'll kill them!" he screamed in manic terror as Voyager, whoever she was, tilted her head as if to feign curiosity. "You hear me? I'll...I'll...no..."

Dropping his gun, the man slowly raised his hands to clutch at his head, his eyes bulging out of his skull in sheer horror.

"No...please...stop...STOP..." Fangs and Reisen watched in horror as Voyager stepped in front of the last soldier, reduced to a quivering wreck, and gently shoved him to the ground. He stood their whimpering as the alien super heroine finally turned her attention to Fangs.

"Holy crap," Fangs said bluntly. "I've never even seen her do that kinda stuff before..."

"Is...something wrong with her?" Reisen asked cautiously.

"I don't know," Fangs said, snapping her fingers in front of Voyager and getting no response. "It looks like she lost her marbles, but she doesn't seem the type..."

"Gabriella."

The pair of them jumped at the ethereal voice that came from Voyager, smooth and grand enough to fill the whole street with its sound. It sounded nothing like the superhero Fangs knew, but that wasn't what rattled her.

"Is that someone you know?" Reisen asked again. "That's not me she's talking to."

"It's...me," Fangs revealed. "That's my real name. I never told anyone that, not even my friends."

"Gabriella...please...keep her safe...from Zhanya."

Before Fangs or Reisen could question this, something seemed to fade from inside Voyager. Closing her eyes, he gave one last shuddering breath in that ethereal tone, and when she opened it there was no trace of the light left. Swaying on the spot, Voyager looked weakly between the pair of them before speaking.


"I'm...so tired..." Then with an air of finality, she gently tipped forward and collapsed, landing in Fang's arms as the tarantula girl stepped out to catch her.

"And here I was," Reisen interjected, rubbing her temples. "Thinking that tonight was going to be boring. Right, so what do we do with her now?" Almost on cue, an electronic tone started playing from one of Fangs' pockets.

"Ooh, pardon me for a moment," the tarantula girl apolgized as she fished around for her cellphone with a free hand before answering it. "Y'ello? Oh hey there Brighty! You'll never guess who I'm carrying around with me right now!"

Using her motorbike, Fletch sped through the city. The gang war in Chinatown had made it difficult for her to get out of the district, especially with the police embargo that had surrounded it to prevent anyone from passing through. However, with the help of War-Pulse and, especially, Evergreen, she managed to slip through and was on her way to getting to the place where the person responsible for the demolition of Chinatown’s block via high-tech drones: Midas. Her ability in recalling the license plate of the van used to seize, the contacts that the mercenary had were enough to track down who was using it shortly after the explosion. While that took some time for the information to come to the surface, the plant-based meta had helped her get sorted out with her pursuits in becoming a better hero/vigilante. The first major thing was a concoction for her to drink. At first nothing had happened baring a bad taste in her mouth but shortly after consuming it, she felt her body change that felt unpleasant. Once the feeling subsided, nothing was noted as being different. However when something fell off the tree, it became apparent that Kayla’s agility had been improved dramatically, her new-found agility increase able to maneuver quickly to catch it in time.

While zooming towards the Financial District in broad daylight, far from ideal in her case, she felt something nestle in her top. While she needed to get to Midas Industries, she needed to sort something out so she slowed her bike to a stop in a quiet street. Lifting her helmet off of her head she looked down at her chest, her left hand reaching under her top. After a couple of seconds, a small, plant-based marsupial crawled over her left arm onto her shoulder. The second major thing that Evergreen provided was a plant familiar for her to use. The familiar, although small, is agile like her and provides something that she thought would come in handy in the foreseeable future: seeds that combust into an impressive explosion when coming into hard contact to a surface. ”Come on, Archie,” she calmly spoke to the familiar. ”Nestling there is not helping me concentrate on the road. Hop into one of my trouser pockets.” Much to her pleasure, the plant marsupial followed her instructions and clambered into her lower right trouser pocket. Once the creature settled into place, she revved the engine and sped off in the direction of Midas Industries.

---------



The building that Midas Industries was certainly impressive when seen in person, Kayla concluded, eyes looking up and down the building from her perch alongside an apartment complex nearby, far back from the plaza that separates the two buildings. Reaching into her right trouser pocket, she pulls out her first aid kit and opens it up. Overlooking all the medical stuff that was inside the small zip-up bag, she pulls out a small telescope that she kept in there just in case she needed to do something like this. The telescope had been with her since she started archery and used it to check the target for her arrows at distances similar to what she is using it for now. Keeping to the shadows of the building’s fire escape, she snaps open the scope and scanned the front of the building. For the ten minutes she had been there already, nothing but passers-by walked passed the entrance of the building with the occasional employees of the building walking in to carry on with their work.

Moments later, one car pulled up alongside the building. Focusing in on the car, she watches as Richard Midas, the man who created the empire, step out of the car. A moment later, Kayla smirked. ”Gotcha,” she muttered. The woman that she saw fighting War-Pulse before the drone strike stepped out, recognizing her face through the telescope. Seeing the woman, whom Evergreen called Racheli, with Midas confirmed what War-Pulse’s contacts had dug up. She wouldn’t put it past her that it was Midas Industries that had created the two drones that levelled the buildings around the two battling metas, staging it as a gas explosion that the mercenary caused. Right now, she thought about confronting Midas about the explosion that had nearly killed her, politely forcing the conversation with an arrow aimed at his head. However, she didn’t know what the meta would do. In fact… For someone who had been kidnapped, she seems to be walking freely and not attacking her captor. Something seemed off about the whole thing as she watched the two walk through the doors of the building.

Snapping the telescope shut, Kayla frowned in thought. Right now, she has two options in going forward. The first option had been to enter the building to confront the two. That option, although would resolve the issue there and then, had a lot of drawbacks. Firstly, if the drones were anything to go by, the security protecting the building might have advanced technology that would prove getting through difficult. Secondly, bypassing the security to get to where Midas is would be advanced that it would take time Fletch didn’t have to get through it. Thirdly, judging by how Racheli was following the whims of the CEO, the meta she is there to rescue is under his thumb and is ordered to attack. Finally, if she was able to do all of that and get Racheli out of there, she would paint a huge target on her back from not only Midas but the entire LHPD that still had a problem with her breaking in and brutally beating one of their prisoners. With the Penose out there already targeting her, that was something she would have great difficulty in living with. It does, however, make things more exciting that the other option. She had concluded that if Racheli has been taken by Midas, he would have her kept in a safehouse out of public view. She was willing to bet what would have been her place in future Olympic competitions that that’s where they came from and simply stalking the pair back to their place would reveal where the meta was kept. Midas would be out of sight and mind for her to talk to the meta and get her out of his grasp.

Juggling over the two options, she turned to Archie who was sitting on the railing just above her head and soaking in the sun’s light. ”What do you think, Archie? Should I go in the building and try to get Racheli out?” The marsupial looked from its perch to the building, look back at her and shuddered, shaking it head whilst doing so. With her face falling flat in disappointment, she slumped her back to the wall. ”Well, you’re no fun.”

Chris stood on his front lawn, staring down the man who called himself the Judicator. A ring of fire and debris surrounded Chris, although there was a circular patch of untouched grass at his feet where his energy shield protected it (and Chris) from the Judicator’s missile assault. Chris knew the armor that the Judicator was wearing. It was the proto-type that he had developed for S.T.R.I.K.E. before the Hounds blasted them to kingdom come. His own armor was the latest model, but the technology was basically the same. He wondered how it could have fell into the hands of the Hounds of Humanity, although he did not need to make a large logical leap considering the Hounds were the ones who took down S.T.R.I.K.E.’s leadership.

“Where did you get my tech?” Chris demanded.

“It does not take a rocket scientist to knew where we get our munitions,” the Judicator answered, although he seemed more interested in a device that he was activating on his wrist. A small, thin pole, almost like a car antenna, rose out of the villain’s shoulder. It had a black sphere attached to its tip. Once the Judicator was finished activating the device on his armor, the black sphere emitted a red light that strobed the vicinity like the rays of a lighthouse.

At first, Chris braced for whatever the side effects of the red beam. However, when the light pasted by him without causing any mechanical errors to his armor, he returned his focus on the Judicator, prepping himself for another potential attack by the villain. After the black sphere rotated a few times, it finally shut of its light and retracted back into the Judicator’s armor. The villain’s armor finally spoke up, revealing to Chris what the purpose of that device was.

No metahumans, magically-enhanced humans, or sentient non-humans found.

“We know you’re harboring a metahuman. We don’t know how you’re hiding her from us, but we will find her.” The Judicator threatened. Chris knew he was talking about his half-sister, Veronica. It must have been her lucky day, since she magically lost her powers as of late. He thought he had been diligent on covering up his sister’s metahuman powers that Doctor Diplodoc gave her. But obviously he was not careful enough, since the Hounds somehow knew about it, or at least had suspicions of it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Chris told the Judicator. “But if you don’t get off my lawn, I’m going to pin a cease and desist order on your ass and punt you off my property.”

“Don’t make idle threats that you cannot enforce.” The Judicator taunted back.

“You would know when I’m in a joking mood.” Chris activated his energy pila while his armor’s targeting system locked onto the Judicator. Once his energy pila had formed in his hand, Chris hurled the projectile at the Judicator. Before the pila could strike its target, it first slammed into the Judicator’s energy shielding, which was nearly identical to Chris’ own, since the armor was created with Chris’ technology. The shield buckled under the strain of the pila’s impact. However, the Judicator’s defenses held together.

“Was that supposed to be impressive?” The Judicator taunted Chris while his own shields deactivated.

In response to Chris’ initial attack with his energy pila, an arsenal of missiles began to emerge from the Judicator’s armor. While his own armor had its own assortment of advanced technology installed in it, he never equipped either his armor or the ones that S.T.R.I.K.E. commissioned. Therefore, Chris concluded that there were two options that could explain where the Judicator could have armed himself to the teeth. Either the Hounds made a few adjustments to the armor or S.T.R.I.K.E. had already upgraded the armor prior the Hounds’ attacks.

Shield levels insufficient to deflect projectiles. Evasive action advised.

Don’t have to tell me twice. Chris thought before soaring away from the Judicator so that he could be in a better position to defend against the Hound villain’s weapons.

Hostile Missiles Locked-On.

“This is going to be interesting.” Chris mumbled to himself as he contemplated his strategy for surviving this next barrage of weapons.

---

Marie and Holt arrived at the Lachance Family Stronghold after an hour of searching. It was well hidden even in the desert landscape along the lakeside, likely the work of protective enchantments. The exterior was just as the faeries had described, an unassuming shack with broken boards falling from the windows, slightly obstructing the view from the outside, rusted tin palettes running along the side of the building, some propped against the eroded wooden walls, some actually nailed to the roof to cover large holes that had been left by years of neglect.

The interior wasn’t much better. Inside were several dusty, rotten shelves and tables with crooked frames and broken legs, just stable enough to support what few artifacts still dared to fill them. The curtains were faded and moth eaten, flowing in the breeze that poured in from exposed areas in the ceiling and between boards in the walls. It came as no surprise that the floor was little more than arid dirt with a few bits of tarp that were likely blown off the walls and ceiling during a storm.

Marie moved carefully over the debris, dusting off the bottom half of her dress after rubbing against the wall to avoid stepping on shards of glass from an adjacent window.

”Is this really the entrance to a witches’ stronghold?” Marie uttered skeptically as she made her way to the only other room in the shack, hidden behind a door that, like everything else, was falling off its hinges and bearing holes that spoke of past conflict.

Holt remained atop Marie’s shoulder as a raven, eyes scanning the room for anything of interest.

It is certainly inconspicuous, much to the witches’ delight I’m sure.

Marie nodded.

”I guess it makes sense. Who would think to disturb the remains of something this far gone?”

She carefully moved the door to the side, which let out an unnervingly high-pitched squeal as the hinges fought to fold in on their rusted nails. The other room looked much the same as the first, but with less dust. At the far end a large sheet had been draped over what Marie assumed was the mirror spoken of by the fey.

Sure enough, as she peeled back the white sheet, Marie unveiled a tall, ornate oval mirror with beautiful golden vines snaked around its outer edges. Next to the mirror was an end table, atop which was an inscription in a language Marie recognized but couldn’t name.

”What is this script?” Marie asked Holt, tracing the inscription with her fingers.

An old fey dialect used in the lower regions of France. The witch hunts in France brought to light many of their ancient traditions; you would likely have seen this in one of the books in Puck’s collection.

Marie took a closer look, soon realizing that she did indeed recognize the old dialect. To her surprise, she effortlessly recited the inscription word for word, the sound of it like the rushing of wind through dense trees and the sharp crackle of lightning.

Suddenly, the mirror began to hum in response, Marie’s reflection soon replaced by the swirl of dark clouds. The clouds receded to reveal a long hallway with rows of doors on either side. There seemed no separation between the room in which Marie stood and the image in the mirror. Sounds and smells of this other place began to fill the desert shack. Marie turned to Holt whose eyes advised caution, but who nodded to confirm her silent inquiry. They stepped into the mirror and turned to see the shack fade into a reflection, the portal closing and becoming a simple mirror once again.

Marie turned to face a double door that stood at the end of the hallway, likely the dwelling of Genevieve Lachance or some large ritual/communal space for the witches. Unsure of how to feel in such a situation, she walked forward, broom in one hand, luggage in the other, and entered through the imposing door.

---

---

Marie strode into the lobby of the hotel, Holt trailing behind unseen. She masterfully hid herself behind a family bringing in their luggage so as not to be stopped by the desk clerk. It probably wasn’t unusual to receive the odd visitor to a resident or guest, but she wasn’t in a mood for too much unneeded interaction. She was feeling another strange mixture of emotions and wanted only to focus her attention on those who truly needed it.

Her meeting with the Lachance matriarch went better than expected. Marie expected that she’d be thrown out for her intrusion, but the witches welcomed her with open arms, commending her for her mastery of the craft and her ability to open the door to their stronghold. She waited in the glamorously decorated ritual space for around an hour before finally meeting with Genevieve.

The two had a long conversation about the recent Hounds attack, Marie taking the time to pass on the message sent by her fey informants. Genevieve, a relatively young woman to be a powerful matriarch, around 36 or so, received the faeries’ pleas warmly, assuring Marie that the Witch-Mother was hard at work finding a solution. They then held an in depth conversation of the Witch-Mother and her involvement with The Five Families, the conversation stretching on for so long that they had time enough for tea and dinner.

Marie was fascinated by the stories Genevieve told of how The Five had built their strongholds and how Hekate had managed to unite them in the past few years. Their history was astounding, and though Lady Lachance was obviously leaving out a few details, Marie was still in awe at their rise to power in Nevada. Their meeting concluded with an invitation from the witch to stay in the stronghold for as long as she needed. Marie was reminded of the generosity of the German witches in New York and that of the solitary witches of Lost Haven.

She was led to a lavish room by one of the Lachance heirs, a handsome boy around Marie’s age. That room put any hotel or luxury resort to shame and had far greater amenities. But that wasn’t all the night had to offer . . .

Upon receiving the arrival message from Ben, Marie fell into a trance, recalling an image of her early days. An intricate box formed in her mind’s eye, dubbed the “Sight” by Gwyneth’s echoing voice. When she came to, Marie realized that she had received a vision of Gwyneth’s next artifact, and this time the image was clear, albeit still incredibly vague, but she had reason to believe that she was on the right track, that Gwyneth’s “Sight,” whatever that may be, was near.

Now, pacing around the hotel lobby, Marie pulled out her phone and sent a message to Ben, informing him of her arrival to the hotel, though she assumed that he had likely felt her presence the moment she entered.

Whatever doubt she felt before in aiding Ben and the other magicians, at least now she had some incentive. Having Ben already in Vegas made the search for the next item that much easier, and her newfound relationship with the Lachance witches would give her access to the city’s magical resources, perhaps even an audience with the Witch-Mother herself.

Marie waited eagerly for Ben’s response, heart racing in dread, joy, and above all, anticipation.

Science meets Conscious

Briley’s phone buzzed, Home.. Getting some Ice Cream then meeting a friend. Gonna discuss some magic things… Briley read the texts from her niece as she pulled up to the Pacific Point facility that had finally finished repairs from the last attack. It was twelve o’clock sharp, and her white car pulled through the security checkpoint easily. Only to be met with the acting supervisor William Phister, a tall man with broad shoulders who looks more like a Gorilla than a human being. “William, repairs have gone well. How are the increased security checkpoints, we spent the money for a new armed staff and automated turrets.”

“A few scientists have forgotten IDs lately, putting security through extra procedures. But that has thus far calmed down, now only one or two employees a week forget their badges. No need yet for a full live test of the new system, but considering the rumors I’m hearing we’ll need them soon. But inside I’ll take you on a tour of what we’ve done.”

“Before you do, I should have another joining me.”

As Hound Dog kept his arm up with his sling he zipped along power poles, speeding through the city at speeds that blurred the skyline. Stopping only to get his bearings he finally reached the outside gate of the facility Briley wanted him to meet her at. The guard still following protocol stopped him as he approached. “Hey there cool cat, Miss Patton invited me for a tour, mind ringing her up.”

The guard said nothing, but rang up Briley’s phone as he was told to expect a guest of her’s. “Yes.”

“Got a guy hear to see you, calls himself Hound Dog, he at least looks the part of the Hero. Rules state, you need to be here to authenticate him. That okay Miss Patton.”

“I shall be there in a moment, William, if you’ll come with me I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

The gate was not far from the parking lot, only a few minutes walk. Hound Dog slowly tapped his foot as he tried to chat up the guard only to silence himself as he saw Briley Patton walk up. “Your guy is stone cold, I swear Lawyers are more chatty than this Clyde. Don’t mind the sling arm still has a bit of healing to do. And that, that is one big man. Sure a Zoo isn’t, you know. Nevermind.”

Briley raised a brow but did not comment on his last remark, “William Phister meet Hound Dog, I was hoping a full tour will convince him to represent us publically as we move to support heroes.”

“You better get any Gorilla jokes out of your system now, but remember. My hand is bigger and stronger than yours. Do it after we shake.” William said. As the trio went inside to see the changes and operations first hand, William stopped short in the entrance hall as a familiar face nearly ran past them.

“Martel, you’re here early! Busy day ahead of you?”

“Me? Oh yes, very busy. Very busy indeed,” Dr. Alexander Martel replied, sounding out of breath as he nearly skidded to a halt. Judging by his appearance, it did look like Martel had been incredibly busy, Briley pondered to herself. His graying hair was uncombed, his hands couldn’t keep still, and judging by the bags under his eyes he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for some time.

“I understand putting in extra hours, but you do not look well, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine, just...bit shorthanded with this latest project.”

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” William remarked. “We of course had staffing issues when we were trying to set up the new systems. Shame too, I bet Fletcher would have liked to try out the turrets, eh Doc?”

“Ha ha, indeed she would,” Martel responded, sounding like Phister had just diagnosed him with a terminal illness. “Well, I must be going, need to get this installed…”

Hound Dog stepped forward, wondering if it was Poseidon pushing unreasonable timeframes on it’s employees. “You always push your employees this hard?”

“No no, it’s just...wait, Hound Dog?” Martel asked, sounding a bit taken aback. “What is he doing here?”

“Just taking a tour, of our facility,” Briley said. “I’m hoping he’ll agree to stand with key members of the hero community as we announce our goal to support the hero's actions amidst the terrorists these Hound of Humanity.”

“Key members of the hero community…”

“Not doing much for my rep if I stand by and let guys up and steal my nom de guerre.” Hound Dog replied. “Still, deciding though, on representing you guys.” Martel didn’t respond, but kept glancing between Briley and Hound Dog, his expression communicating that the wheels in his head were turning.

Briley nodded, “Try not to overwork yourself Doctor Martel.” just as she and the group began to turn away he spoke.

“Miss Patton, when you have a moment there’s something I need to discuss with you. Perhaps you should come as well,” Martel added in a deeply urgent tone, nodding in Hound Dog’s direction. “I’ll be in my office when you’re free.” Returning to some semblance of his usual demeanor, he turned and purposely strode out of the entrance hall, leaving the small group without so much as an explanation.

The trio stopped and assumed it regarded some project or something he wanted to show them. As William continued showing them through what would normally be restricted areas they would soon come to a break, “Perhaps now is a good time to take an hour lunch, we still have much to see and our cafeteria is also among them. “ William said leading them to lunch.

As they ate Briley thought it would be a good time to see what Doctor Martel wanted, Hound Dog came in tow as he was not so subtly requested, knocking on his door after a good walk through a few corridors Briley spoke. “Doctor Martel, you had something?”

“Yes, please come in,” Martel called out, already sounding much better than he did when the pair of them arrived. When they walked in and closed the door behind them, they found Martel already seated at his desk, his hands folded in front of him as he looked over a small stack of documents, apparently pulled out of the open file cabinets behind him, weighed down by an odd looking paperweight. As the two of them took their seat in front of the desk, Hound Dog found his attention drawn not to the papers but to the object weighing them down, a donut-shaped thing made of glass and metal that looked like it could fit around your wrist. He hadn’t seen a paper weight like that before, but there was still something incredibly familiar about how it glowed purple.

“I’ve, I’ve seen that before. Where.” Hound Dog said pondering, as Briley Patton interrupted.

“A power inhibitor, doing more research into meta containment and control. Powered Villains do pose a greater problem now that STRIKE is no more as of current events.”

“Yes, Miss Patton is correct,” Martel nodded, taking a deep breath before going on. “And I suspect, Hound Dog, that you may have seen someone who used something like these before.”

“Well.” Hound Dog started to say. “I think that Voyager girl had bands, got her color scheme going on too. You aren’t supplying her or something?” Hound Dog said joking.

His joke gave her questions however, “How did you come about them?” She said seriously. Martel, quietly, lifted the device and handed it to Briley along with the top sheet of the stack.

“I built them,” he said simply, waiting for the hammer to fall. “I...have been building them.”

“I see.” Briley said not fully understanding the implications behind his words. “I’m not too familiar with their specifications but there does seem to be modifications added.”

“The principle behind my design and the variants that you’re used to are similar, though I built them specifically to help Voyager control her abilities.” He finished by handing nearly all of the documents in his stack. “To be clear, Miss Patton...Voyager has been operating out of this facility and I have been assisting her.”

“Radical, so you’re her chair man, the tech guy, the hackerman.” Hound Dog joked on as he saw Briley adopt a cold somber expression. “I’ll um, be quiet now.”

“Yes, thank you for that.” Briley took the stack and read through a couple sentences. “This, is not what I was expecting. Not at all. Thankfully we are about to roll out plans for public cooperation with heroes, though we will need to discuss your; privileges moving forward. Why reveal this now though?”

Martel nodded his head in understanding before going on. “The last I heard from Voyager was three days ago, the night of the Hounds uprising.”

“I.” Hound Dog started as Briley silenced him with a quick look.

“Is Voyager missing then?”

“Not just Voyager, I’m afraid,” Martel said somberly. “Jordan Fletcher has been assisting Voyager out of this facility as well. Nobody has heard from her since the night of the Hound attack either, and I fear the two disappearances are related.”

The doctor hung his head over his desk, looking older than he ever did before. “I...I’ve failed to protect my staff, and I’ve failed to protect Riley. I will explain and answer for everything when there is time, but right now those two need to be rescued, and I cannot do it alone.”

“There are things we’ll need to discuss once we see to Voyager’s and Jordan’s rescue,” Briley confirmed as she spoke to Hound Dog. “I know this is not what you were expecting but ca-”

Hound Dog interrupted. “Can I, of course I can. I’m a Hero it’s what I do! And my namesake isn’t just a Elvis reference, no. I am able to see the electromagnetic spectrum, and all those with unusual biochemistry have a slightly different pattern, it’s not like I’ll turn the corner and see Voyager, but I’ll tell when something is off from a normal unpowered person.”

“If it can help, I’ve been rigging some of my test equipment to help locate Voyager’s unique energy signature,” Martel included. “It casts a wide net so I think if we combine that with your abilities it should be able to locate her.”

Briley nodded. “And I too may know someone who can help.”

_{banner credit to Hellis}



Time: Early Evening - Present Day
Location: Odette’s Hotel Room - Las Vegas, Nevada

The Ambassador primped in the hotel’s small vanity mirror harsh fluorescent light revealing the dark circles beneath her cover up, pulling and tousling strands of blue hair. Having all but recovered from the trip into Gwyneth Owens world she had discussed in length the results of the meeting with her partner Bach and the ever present mercury golem; Mandate. With the contract in mind, freshly pulled apart to protect not only themselves but their interests The Ambassador felt ready to face Puck, once again.

“Mandate I will need you to remain quiet during the summoning and negotiations. Similar to how things were with Queen Titania. Puck will be different but he is just as dangerous.” Odette addressed Mandate smiling reassuringly through the mirror.

“I feel like it would be best to wait the day, sleep on what we know.” Bach cautioned as he took some chalk to begin drawing protective warding circles. He removed some of the decorative hotel paintings from the wall clearing the space for a door. Pulling what he knew to summon Puck, Robin Goodfellow, from a memory long ago. He was cagey about how he came to know it. Earth Fey were famous for their long and accurate memories.

“I trust that it isn’t an easy task for Gwyneth to contact anyone outside of her items but at the moment we have the element of surprise, catching Puck off guard would give us more ground to stand on. I do not think he can be truly surprised but we shall hope for the best.” Odette reasoned patting a little lip colour with the tip of her ring finger along her bottom lip. “We have been playing at this rather fast and loose, something I am not comfortable with. However,” She puckered, “We cannot miss the opportunities as they come.”

Bach nodded from the floor, “Agreed.”

Odette strode across the floor having found no time to change her clothes. Pastel pink pants, sheer white blouse with gold trims at her collar and sleeve cuffs. She wore a white cropped top beneath the blouse. She bent at the knee her hand pressing onto the floor, magic from the Arcane Stream flowing through her powering the wards Bach drew. The caution well placed after their last meeting.

Bach was on his knees drawing the outline of Puck’s door within the circle of wards. The simple drawing of an imp’s head began to form with every stroke, thorns forming around the imp’s horned head. When the imp’s head was complete, his fingers hardened into thick bark carving along the lines into the wood floors. Odette finished the wards as he picked up the chalk again. She joined him in carving the lines he completed, using raw energy along her fingers for precision.

Bach pulled lengths of red fabric from his sleeve, seemingly appearing from nowhere. Odette passed him her purse as she carved. He dug deep, an assortment of sounds as his elbow disappeared into the purse. He asked Odette where the bowl was and she replied with some vague hand gestures, noting it was in between the scales and last year’s summer collection of sunglasses. He grumbled about the organization before finally pulling a pewter bowl from the purse. He placed the bowl at the crown of the imp’s head, tying the red fabric around the bowl. From within his jacket he made a pained face a sharp snap he freed a few branches of Yew, from another pocket he removed a cloth bag of wormwood sprinkling it over the bundle. Odette finished carving and with a whispered fire spell the wood caught, the smell of wormwood was pungent leaving a bitter note on their tongues.

“What else do we need?”

Bach replied pulling out their strongest vintage of port, “Strong spirits or fresh cream fills the bowl.”

Odette snorted, “He would laugh if it was fresh cream from us.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He smiled impishly uncorking the bottle with his teeth he filled the deep bowl to the rim. Then quickly stepped back beside her they shared one silent look then both bowed at the waist.

A low rumbled filled the room as all the light began to fade, shadows falling from the walls onto the floor around the summoning circle. Smoke from the twigs fused with the darkness, falling embers casting their ethereal glow onto Puck’s sigil, the glyph slowly livening with hellish light. The shadows and poison fumes grew into a man-sized mass atop the circle. Without warning, the dark conglomeration was engulfed in flames, swirling in a hot gust of air the filled the room. As the flames spiralized upwards, the figure of a man was slowly revealed; tall and sleek, clad in a dark suit, skin pale and basked in a strange glow, hair short but wild, cut almost boyishly, face handsome and brooding with sharp features, and dark, curved antlers protruding from his head.

Before addressing his supplicants, Puck leaned down and gingerly grasped the bowl of port, taking a large sip that was more of a gulp, downing the bowl’s contents with ease. There was a hint of surprise in his dark eyes.

”French port?” his voice echoed through the room, a mid-toned voice with subtle hints of an old accent accompanied by a dark reverb. ”Such a treat. I haven’t tested any French delicacies in, what has it been? Over 200 years?”

He turned to Odette and Bach, bowing to each in a similar fashion. As he stood, his face was immediately painted with his signature impish grin.

”A two-fold surprise, it seems! To what do I owe this honor, Lady Ambassador?” He seemed quite jovial despite his present company.

And the game beings…

The Ambassador straightened slowly leveling her gaze comfortably upon Puck. For months his prophecy had been a driving force to solve what seemed like at the beginning an impossible puzzle. Now she stood before him much like other powerful Fey, with the answers. “An old barrel of French port for one we knew would appreciate it. It has been some time since we last crossed paths, today is for a rather special occasion.”

She smiled a little impish herself, his was infectious. “I am absolutely pleased you are here to share in this… accomplishment.”

Puck raised a brow but maintained his grin.

”Accomplishment? Whatever could you mean? I suppose the recollection of this little ritual is somewhat of an accomplishment. Honestly, which of you pulled this one out of a hat?” He gestured to both Bach and Odette jokingly. ”No one’s gone through the trouble of conjuring me up like this since ol’ William passed.”

Then it hit him. There was an unmistakeable air of confidence around Odette separate from her normal sense of arrogance. Puck could feel it emanating from her, but he couldn’t quite place it. It was familiar, in any case.

Bach replied, “We do nod at tradition occasionally. My memory is sharp.” He tapped the side of head bark fingers making a thunk noise against his own horns.

“We know to celebrate a simple summoning would be a waste of both of our time’s. No, today we summoned you here to negotiate and draft a contract.” Her grin grew wide, icy cold blue eyes locking onto Puck’s watching for his reaction. “On behalf of a mutual friend, Gwyneth Owens.”

Puck looked at her for a moment, arm raised and hand on his chin, mind racing. How came she to know that name, and so soon? Puck knew that his prophecy some months ago would have eaten at her, but he didn’t imagine she’d be so efficient in producing relevant information pertaining to his portents. But after another moment of consideration, it all made sense.

The air around Odette, it was that same old magic that surrounded Marie, the same obscurity that shielded Puck from pursuing Gwyneth’s history. Odette knew something Puck didn’t which ate at him, but more than aggravation, he felt intrigue.

Standing straight, Puck folded his arms, his face becoming neutral.

”I see,” his voice lowered, less joyous than before but now quite inquisitive. ”So you’ve unravelled the mystery, have you? Then I must congratulate you a second time. It is as I said three months ago, you are quite something, Lady Ambassador. Would you do me the honor of telling me a little about our mutual friend?”

Puck would discover what he could before acknowledging the contract request. Above all this was still an exchange, a bargain had not yet been met. Despite Odette having knowledge Puck lacked, he still had notary power.

She had his undivided interest. “I really must thank you for that prophecy, Mister Goodfellow. You gave me just the right clues to puzzle it out, it was a simple matter of following where they led. A piece of cake, really.” She couldn’t help to gloat. It was months of work. Reaching into her purse she revealed the small trunk with Gwyneth’s Sight opening it to show the coins. “I know that Madame Owens is explicitly tied to the White Witch. I spoke with her directly through one of her mysterious items, as she is in spirit she cannot complete any physical forms of a contract. Madame Owens suggested to bring the negotiations to you because the White Witch, Madame Owens reincarnation, is under your care.”

“I’ve learned much of Madame Owens, she is a rather old soul. Revealed certain truths, even learned a little about you, Mister Goodfellow.” She added her grin creeping down into a serious line. “We intend to negotiate an alliance.”

“I can sense where these other items are and I sense one has arrived to Las Vegas. The one I imagine White Witch has for herself.”

So the rumors were true . . . Puck thought to himself, recalling old tales from Gwyneth’s time. She possessed more power than he knew, able to not only divide herself among multiple items, but to grant one such as Odette her own Sight even when her power is split in two halves. Not only that, but Gwyneth had actually asked for Odette’s help, forge an alliance even.

What was he to do? If Puck agreed to draft a contract for Odette and Gwyneth, and sign in Gwyneth’s stead, his fears of losing Marie may be realized. On the other hand, if this contract were formed and Odette offered her aid, then Marie, and consequently Gwyneth, would get exactly what she wants. And though it pained him to admit, Puck desperately wanted to see this story unfold.

Puck chuckled, eyes closed.

”You place me in a very interesting position, Lady Ambassador. Truly, you believe that you have bested me, gone to every imaginable length to undo whatever ills you believe I have cooked up for you. And this is a most enticing offer, I will admit. Perhaps I shall agree to your contract, but first, what exactly do you think you’ve learned?”

Puck looked Odette in the eyes, faithful grin returning.

”What know you of I or the web I weave? What know you of the intricate threads I gifted you upon our last meeting?”

Odette maintained her confidence, unwavering. He was grasping at straws, from where he stood and his role to play today he really held no more power than he did when he stepped through the summoning door. As Odette liked to believe, and she did. “I know that I am an unpredictable element in your web. You expect me to act as a fly struggling in the threads while I move as a spider myself.”

She rolled her shoulders so easily, shrugging not breaking eye contact snapping the trunk shut. “I learned that you are tied to the Witch-Father Bucca. The resemblance is unmistakable now that I see. I know you would not like me to play the part of a villain wrenching the White Witch’s world upside down when these problems can be solved by peaceful means.”

“You and I are capable of understanding that much.”

Puck laughed again, this one a little more audible.

”Found out that bit of trivia, did you? It isn’t some secret truth I keep hidden out of resentment or necessity. The Bucca and I are brothers, yes. He and I are but two of five in total.”

Puck could feel the wards placed around the room, some to keep Odette safe, unlike the last time they met, some perhaps to keep him confined to his summoning area. He had no desire to cause Odette harm, so he very gently began to pace about the sigil until he felt enough give to pace around the room, speaking as he walked.

”I am often questioned about my true nature. Am I fey, demon, or some other spirit? The truth is, I cannot say. My brothers and I have lived far longer than these titles. Honestly, I don’t think any of us really mind. A label makes things easier, creates expectations.”

“I am Robin Goodfellow, as you know, a trickster by trade and so called a faerie, sometimes a lesser demon. My brother, Herne or Herne the Hunter, as you may know him, shares the fey title. He and I look much alike. More man than beast. Then there is the Bucca, or Witch-Father, a being blessed with ancient knowledge, grand initiator of witches, the Devil of many folktales, though not the same devil of biblical origin. Then there’s Leonard, head like a goat with three horns. He lives mostly in Germany and deals with witches there. Finally, there is the Leshy, a forest spirit of Slavic folktales, perhaps the most wild of us all.”

Puck leaned against a wall, pausing for a moment as he turned his attention back to Odette.

”We are the Pwca, The Imps, whatever name you’d like to know us by. Our bond is no secret, merely a fact that has been dismissed or forgotten, or perhaps was never known to begin with. Either way, I grant you this knowledge freely because it does you no great service to know it.”

He moved again, pulling the chair from desk behind him and placing it at the center of the summoning circle, taking a seat and crossing his legs, one arm resting on his leg, the other placed on his chin as he leaned forward.

”And as for your part in the White Witch’s story, you misunderstand. You mistakenly believe that I have cast you as some villain, that you are the antagonist of her story by my decree. This, Lady Ambassador, is simply not true. You yourself have met with the witch, Gwyneth Owens, you have agreed to forge an alliance, and whether she knows it or not, you will be giving the White Witch exactly what she wants. How, then, could you be the villain, how could this not end peacefully?”

He looked in her eyes as he slumped back in his chair.

Watching Puck pace outside the wards she turned a terrible glare onto Bach, her grip on his arm was tighter than a shackle. He shrugged sheepishly, he believed Puck would have respected the lines they drew. He had, to a degree. Bach whispered as Puck began his little story, “Apologies, My Lady.”

She forced her irritation away to listen. Learning more seemed to dismantle some of the mysteries surrounding Puck for centuries, but really it opened him up to a slew of new questions. A veil she felt she wouldn’t be able to peek behind, not today. It meant she had no real way to defend herself.

She thought for a moment watching him sit back inside the circle, his body language was that of ease. While a knot was developing between her shoulder blades, the self imposed tension. “You were angry when you gave me the prophecy. White Witch will be angry when we meet again, I have no doubts. As for Madame Owens…” Odette paused for a few moments, picking her words carefully. “We have similar goals, neither of us need the other as an obstacle. I understand far more than what I say.”

“Self preservation is certainly where this need to negotiate is borne from but it has evolved from that.” Sincerity, something she would be capable of feeling when having a conversation with Puck. “Anger either from an Imp or a Witch is something I can deal with. So, Puck. What do you want? Drafting a contract is a service, what do you want in return?”

Puck exhaled audibly, turning his head up in thought. He twiddled his fingers and thumbs, sharp claws scraping against one another. What did he want? There were any number of favors he could ask of Odette, but what did she really have to offer?

Finally, he decided on his terms and looked her in the eye once more.

”This is a story I wish to see play out, so I will draft your contract and sign on Gwyneth’s behalf. But in return, I must request two things. The first: you must disclose to me what you have learned of Gwyneth. It is unlikely that I shall provide this information to the White Witch, but it is something I wish to know as an onlooker.”

He waited for Odette to agree to the first term.

Odette did the same as he did she stepped outside of the wards resentfully casting an eye at them as she grabbed a chair herself, she took a seat across from Puck. Her back straight as a board Bach handed her a notepad where he wrote down everything they discussed. “Easy enough. I agree to the first terms. I remember all the details of her story, she went in depth with her life. A lonely existence for a wild spirit, she had much to say. Bach wrote down everything in this notebook, I can recite it all.”

A curious creature.

“What is the second term?” She waited, folding her hands in her lap.

Puck’s grin was dastardly and full.

”The second term: I ask that you would permit me to finish a thought I started three months ago. This wealth of new information seems to have cleared my vision, and you have my thanks for that.”

Her expression darkened considerably, “If the point of the last prophecy was to frighten me then what is the point of this one? I have figured out the puzzle-!” She nearly snapped then reined herself in when Bach gripped her shoulder. She took a deep breath, “I am familiar with Fey games and this is unnecessary.”

”Is it unecessary? Have you truly completed the puzzle, or have you been putting the pieces exactly where they belong, seeing treacheries where they do not exist? You knew nothing of Gwyneth until you met her yourself, the rest of the world, even I, are not so fortunate. Her obscurity clouded my vision and I could only provide you with a mere piece of the puzzle. It is not my fault if you chose to falsely interpret my words and chase a lie. But now that this obstacle has been removed, there remains several missing pieces.”

Puck folded his arms, waiting.

Her hands gripped in her lap she replied dryly, “And there is a price for every piece. Nothing is for free. I am well aware of how this works, Mister Goodfellow. You must be taking some level of satisfaction in this.”

She stood to pace herself, brow furrowed she held her temples. She stopped at Mandate seeing her reflection in the golem’s shiny red eye, Mandate was wearing a frown. She commented, “A price tag on my ability to sleep at night for an alliance with a powerful witch like Madame Owens.”

Bach commented quietly as in a way of a joke, “My Lady needs her beauty sleep.”

She glared at him for the second time today, a look filled to the brim with venom.

“If not only for your own sake.” He added not faltering under her glare.

She stopped pacing then turned back to Puck, deciding what she already knew with absolute confidence. She paced to him and held out her hand. “Whatever lies before me I will have the means to face it and best it.”

“Monsieur Goodfellow, we have a deal.”

Puck stood, taking her hand in his.

”It seems we do. Now, if you’ll provide me with the terms of yours and Gwyneth’s alliance.”

Puck snapped his fingers, an old scroll, inkwell, and quill forming on the desk behind them, the quill hovering over the scroll ready to begin writing. Odette stood at his elbow dictating the terms. Noting the priority of Gwyneth Owens and The Ambassador not interfering with each other’s business and interests. No harm will be brought directly or indirectly against Gwyneth and The Ambassador, thirdly no harm will befall those connected with Gwyneth Owens or the Ambassador. Leaving a little fine print wiggle room, for what she officially dubbed it as Trials of the Fey for the White Witch to complete in the quest of collecting Gwyneth’s items. The contract noted the bargain in exchange for the signed and honoured negotiations The Ambassador would lend her aid, then set the trials.

The quill faithfully copied down every bit of information spoken by Odette, word for word, leaving a space at the bottom for two signatures. Puck, having gained the power to enter Marie into contracts without her official consent from their original contract, signed his name at the bottom, nothing that it was signed in place of Gwyneth’s signature and applied only to Gwyneth.

Odette read the contract over twice, Bach read it aloud as well. “Be sure to put your complete title, The Ambassador is too vague.”

Odette tipped her head at that, “You are right.” She corrected it to The Ambassador of the Fair Folk. “Thank you, Bach.”

“Of course, My Lady.”

She took the quill dipping the ink, tapping off excess ink with a neatly intricate but unique flourish she signed the contract.

With the last signature in place, the ink and quill vanished and the scroll rolled itself up, neatly sealed. Puck took it and placed it inside his suit jacket.

”Well, now that that’s done . . . I believe you have something for me?” He gestured to Bach.

Bach handed him the notebook. “My memory and recording is exact. My Lady recited everything they spoke of immediately after she woke up.”

Odette nodded then took a deep breath in through her nose. “Do you mind if we record this as well? Audio recording that is.”

Puck took up the notebook and thumbed through it for a moment before tucking it away in his jacket along with the contract. He turned to Odette and smiled.

”Certainly, be my guest.” He waited for her to hit record before he began.

”Sight . . . such woeful irony. The witch’s gift is yours to claim, a boon greater than you know, and yet one that will fail you time and again. Burned by witch’s fire, you stand ready in the garden to accept your paradise, not risen, but changed, changed as the cunning fire changes all. But even though the apple falls in your lap and the giantess gives her blessing, a serpent sneaks into your Eden and wraps itself round the Tree of Life. But this serpent does not tempt, no . . he hungers.

When the veil was formed by the Spirit of Old, when the stars fell and soaked the Earth in their blood, he was among them, thirsting for new life. He whispers to you in sorrowful sleep, invites you into his bed. He does not turn you from salvation, that is not his aim. Indeed, ‘tis not holy waters which will save you from his torment, but cunning fire, the spark of a world long forgotten. Be swift, young Eve. Be not consumed by his lust, but ravaged by a flame that was. And the question is not whether you will be burned, but whether you will rise from the ashes . . . or will he?”

She pursed her lips and stopped the recording. She was quiet for some moments her head hung, “I need to ask. Do- Do you believe in those stories of creation?”

Odette did not expect an answer and she wondered why she asked Puck. In spite of her sincerity earlier there was really no room for it for creatures such as them.

Puck knelt down, putting himself at Odette’s level. He looked her directly in the eyes, his cockiness and impish air gone. Instead, he bore a look of worry and wonder, though it was hard to tell which was more prominent.

”What we believe and what is do not always align. It is of little consequence what I believe. What happened in the beginning, mortals ask themselves all the time as if knowing will bring them peace, when in fact, the truth is far more complicated. Perhaps that story is true, but if so, it is one of many. Perhaps it is the most recent, perhaps it is the oldest, perhaps it is one beginning which led to another. Do not be concerned by uncertain beginnings. Look instead to a future you can change.”

Puck stood up, moving back to the summoning circle. He turned a final time to face Odette.

”I am not angry, Lady Ambassador. My words are not venom meant to poison, they are remedies to wounds not yet inflicted. I do not resent you . . . and neither does he. You displayed true cunning in your battle, he understands. Farewell.”

With far less flare, Puck simply vanished, no light, no wind, no ominous aura. Gone.

She took a few unsteady steps away her expression screwed up and undecided. She held her phone to her chest. Bach’s expression was neutral and Odette had difficulty reading it unlike ever before. Her heart hammered, she told herself to expect this where Puck was involved and it wasn’t enough much like the wards.

“I am… I am going to start to analyze it.” She found her voice, “I need some time alone.” Drawing herself up she strode past Bach and Mandate. Holding her chin high.

Bach called after her, “My Lady, I see you brimming with emotion. Keep it under wraps, there is no room for her to rear her ugly head.”

Odette shut her eyes, she knew he was right. There was no luxury to be had here.

“Of course.”

Arachne was not the only person who had her hands full that night. While Arachne was attending the charity event, the Immortals received a call from the local authorities about an enhanced human whom they wanted the Immortals to apprehend for them. The call happened to come in just when the Immortals were turning over shifts. Kyra was already half way through the door and Talus and Gajana were almost finished setting up their board game when they were called to action.

The three Immortals thought that this job would be a cake walk and therefore they could get back to what they were doing. However, they underestimated the superpowered culprit. A blur of light swirled around the Immortals, throwing punches and kicks faster than they could react to them.

“I’m going to get a bunch of street cred for this!” The man proclaimed once he finally stood still. His entire body was composted of pure light. “Everyone will fear Lightwave after I have taken out the Immortals!”

“Either he can’t count or he doesn’t know about Odysseus, ‘Siris, and Arachne.” Talus whispered to his other two teammates. Kyra, however, pressed her index finger up to her lips, signaling Talus to zip it.

“You should give up now,” Lightwave taunted while he zoomed around the room, throwing several punches and kicks at the three Immortal. “What can you do against a man who can travel at the speed of light?”

When Lightwave raised his hand to punch Kyra, the kitsunelike heroine used her fire-based powers to cover her entire body in flames, just like the Human Torch would do in Marvel Comics. Although the flames did not protect her from the impact of the punch, it did make Lightwave pay for his attack.

“Do you know what fire produces?” Lightwave said while he shook the hand that had hit Kyra while she was engulfed by flames.

“Heat?” Gajana replied. Since Lightwave was momentarily distracted by his “burned” hand, Gajana used this opportunity to grab a nearby steel barrel and hurled it at Lightwave. However, the barrel harmlessly passed through the light-based villain.

“Light.” Lightwave answered his own question. “And don’t forget that light can be both a wave and a particle.”

Lightwave extended his arm and began to absorb the light that Kyra was producing. She therefore immediately extinguished the fire so that the villain might not be able to strength himself with the light he was absorbing. She began to create a portal behind herself, intending to trick Lightwave into rushing into it after she dodged him. However, he was still too fast for any of the Immortals. Therefore, Kyra was also pushed into her own portal, along with Lightwave.

The next thing she knew, Kyra found herself crashing down upon a furnished bed in a medium sized retail store. Lightwave had a more graceful landing, since his incorporeal physiology allowed him to merely float to the ground. At first, he appeared as if he was preparing to attack again, especially since Kyra was separated from the others. However, the criminal saw something outside of Kyra’s line of sight, which caused him to bolt out of the store.

“He got away.” Kyra begrudged admitted over the commlink that the Immortals used to communicate. She hoped off the bed and took account of her surroundings. “I think I’m in a Bed, Bath, and Beyond, of all places.”

Kyra then heard several footsteps inside the store. Since she knew that Lightwave was incorporeal, Kyra guested that someone else was in the store. As soon as she discovered that she was not alone, Kyra hit the deck, hiding behind the bed on which she had landed on in the first place. However, her nine bushy tails made it difficult for her to conceal herself, even behind a queen-sized bed.

“And I don’t think I’m alone.”