Phantom kicked up his feet, floating sideways near the ceiling of the police station. It was close by the hideout, and his own apartment, so he spent a lot of time there when he had nothing better to do while asleep. Everyone else was busy, cooking, banging, working. All except for Kenny, who was hanging out next to him in the form of a walkie-talkie. He didn't mind: after that last madness with Blacklight and the snapping turtle, he was happy to relax.

He was invisible, floating above the heads of the unsuspecting officers. It was always slightly interesting at the station, even though he never had any idea of what was going on. He was not a cop-watcher, just a bored phantasmal being. Kenny was silent, but corporeal: he couldn't turn her invisible, so the little black box was hiding in the shadows. People hardly ever looked up, anyways.

Today was particularly buzz-worthy, as something seemed to have gotten the police in a pickle. He'd only gotten there a half hour ago, so he still hadn't figured out the issue. It seemed like something the men-in-blue were trying very hard to hide from the press.

A phone rang, and an operator snatched it up. "Ransom call!" he said, and immediately the place went silent. Ah. Ransom. For whom, he wondered. Luckily the phone went on speaker, and he got the answer to his question almost immediately. The mayor? The actual mayor? What the fuck? He could feel Kenny trying desperately to keep her squeals under control. To her credit, none escaped.

"We have a location!" said one of the other officers. They probably had been trying to trace the call, or something. David didn't know squat about all that tech stuff. "The guy's phone got pinged around the old Kaplan carnival grounds. Talk about cliche."

"David!" This time Kenny did squeak, and David groaned inwardly. The bustle of the station seemed to cover it up, though, and David took the opportunity to shuttle the walkie-talkie out the air vent he'd sneaked it in through.

The conversation back at the hideout went roughly like: "THE MAYOR'S BEEN KIDNAPPED AND WE KNOW WHERE HE IS SUIT UP EVERYONE LETS GO!"

"What? Who the fuck would kidnap the mayor?"

"SOME GUY NAMED FINCH, C'MON ERNIE MOVE IT MOVE IT!"

"You know we were in the middle of having sex, right Kenny?"

"DON'T CARE WE ABOUTTA SAVE THE MAYOR SCRUBS, LES GO, EL RAPIDASH MI AMIGOS."

"That's literally a Pokemon, Kenny! We're going back to bed, crazy fuckin' hoebag bit--"

Five minutes later Ernie, Kenny, and a hastily dressed Vince and Garfield were leaving the apartment with David at the front. He shot through the air at speeds impossible to normal folk, zipping across town to the right place. He'd looked it up on Google Maps. They were driving, so it'd be a little while before they arrived. They were even bringing his body, just in case, as their getaway driver.

Maybe good thinking, unless he got shot or something. That would suck.

Dragon nodded, getting up from the table and heading through to the other room. "Looking-Glass?" Dragon tapped on the door to the bedroom. "There's a lady from PART here. She needs you to come talk to her, if that's alright?" Spectrum frowned, disapproving, but she didn't say anything. It wasn't really her place to stop the kid from going. Dragon held out his hand, as if to lead her through.

Charlotte was in the middle of enjoying a cup of hot cocoa. It had been a while since the battle with Blacklight, and she had calmed down somewhat. When Dragon arrived with the news, she frowned, but was not particularly surprised - Blacklight was one of the most infamous villains of all time, and she had just ended his life. That in itself was news worthy of investigation, but when one considered her age and background... So yes, she was not surprised.

"Yes, of course," she answered steadily. She was more than prepared for this. She had taken the law into her own hands, and she had no illusions of getting off lightly. From the start, this was a pursuit fueled by vengeance, and she always knew that it would put her at odds with the law, so she ready to accept what needed to be done. She was no hero, but she would not let herself fall and become a villain, even if it was one by small measure.

Spectrum stood, still in her armour, and followed them both through to the table. She sat directly opposite the police officer, radiating Pulsar Red in an angry attempt at intimidation. Dragon sat to her left, pulling out a seat for Looking-Glass.

Regan took in the newcomers. Spectrum, of course, she knew well. If she wasn't mistaken, the red hew of her armor was for offensive purposes. Okay. Regan thought. I can see I'm up against a unified front. I'll have to nip this in the bud. Not like I'm the bad guy here. She nodded at Spectrum and Looking-Glass.

"Thank you for coming out to talk. As I told Dragon. I'm not here to point fingers or look for scapegoats. Blacklight is dead and his death needs to be explained, even with the villain that he was." Regan looked at Looking-Glass uncertain for a moment. It was never easy taking statements from children. Even exceptionally mature ones that probably never had the average childhood most kids had. They were still children somewhere down deep, even if they didn't know it. "Hello, Looking-Glass, I'm Regan. Corporal Regan Murphy with ECPD Part." Regan spared a glance at Spectrum. "Spectrum." She added shortly, nodding at the Epic. "Dragon already told me his perspective on the incident. I would like to hear yours as well. But first..." She looked at Looking-Glass again. "I am obliged to inform you that I cannot question minors without the presence of a parent or a guardian."

"Charlotte." She cut them off before anyone else could speak. She wasn't Looking-Glass at the moment, and she figured she owed at least her name to Dragon Heart and Spectrum. She spoke with a straight face, avoiding anything that would indicate how so very tired she was right now. "Charlotte Lutwidge. And consider Spectrum and Dragon Heart as my guardians for the moment, as no one else qualifies. Don't bother looking up my parents, they're dead -- Blacklight killed them, so I spent the last two years trying put a bullet in his head. I . . . succeeded, as you can see."

A quick summation of the truth, even if it didn't encapsulate the entirety of it. But details could come later, for now, she needed to make the policewoman see that she had no intention of running. Spectrum forced herself to be quiet. While on one hand, she liked the way Charlotte adopted them, she didn't like the fact that she admitted to killing Blacklight. She was supposed to be safe, with that sniper taking the blame. She's a kid. She looked across at Dragon, who had schooled his face into a better mask than hers.

Regan scowled upon hearing the young girl's... confession. This was not what she'd wanted to hear. Locking up kids was not in her job description, damn it! Not especially kids who'd lost their parents to villainy. Epic or otherwise. She thought of Megan, who'd just recently lost her parents because of the Kryptonites. What would have happened to her if she didn't have Teagan and her parents to look after her?

She considered the repercussions of what Charlotte had actually told her. Of planning for two years to kill Blacklight. Killing an Epic villain during a fight in an attempt to prevent them from doing harm was one thing. But premeditation. Even if she was a minor, this would force the court to prosecute her as an adult.

"Charlotte..." Regan began carefully. "I won't insult you by telling you I can imagine what you've been through. Because I couldn't possibly. Still... All three of you just went through a traumatic experience. Taking a life is never easy... Even in the line of duty. While I appreciate your candor, let's not be hasty. Dragon mentioned Blacklight attacked first. And that he was killed by a sniper..." Regan let her sentence hang. Come on, kid, work with me here. I can't help you if you keep begging for a ticket straight to jail!

She shut her eyes at her words. When she opened them again, there was a thankful light in them. Charlotte understood her - for some reason, she was trying to help her. Though it had scarcely been five minutes since they'd met, Charlotte felt like she was a good person. Which was all the more reason for her to be honest; she couldn't lie to her, even if she wanted her to, not in good conscience.

The smile she gave Regan was as distant as it was forlorn. "Blacklight attacked first, yes, but not against me - against Spectrum," she began, glancing at the woman. "Moreover . . ."

It was at this moment that Aida stepped into the room, called in mentally by her mistress. The mannequin was faceless, and still dressed up as a sniper - her gun was even flung over her shoulder. The made radiated hostility and disapproval, her faceless head swiveling back and forth between Charlotte and Regan, and her hand twitching to pull the weapon from her shoulder.

Charlotte shook her head, and gestured for her to calm down.

"This is Aida. The sniper. My ability allows me to give life to inanimate objects, giving them sentience, and powers comparable to an Epic or a Freak." She avoided mentioning the price that came with the power, however. There was no need to burden these three with her problems any more than she had to. "Though she can think and act for herself, Aida is ultimately loyal to me, and as such, was only following my orders. And..." She took a deep breath, the memories of Blacklights' final moments flashing to the forefront of her mind.

"And when I killed him," she breathed, her words practically a whisper. By this point, she was shaking as the emotions of the events that had come to pass came rushing back again, unbidden and unstoppable. "Dragon had already pinned him down. I shot him on the shoulder, before shooting him on the head. I- I... showed him my face. I wanted him to know I did it. And then I . . . shot him. I shot him knowing what that meant for me afterwards but to be honest . . ."

She was crying again, she realized. She rubbed away the tears, willing herself to stare only at Regan, without looking away or hesitating. "I did not expect to survive the attempt." The tears continued to flow, refusing to stop and blurring her vision, and she shook her head violently to drive them away. "Please, officer, I know you want to help me but I understand. I know what I did. I know what this means for me, so please . . . just let it end."

Her feelings were clear: She had no intention to run.

Spectrum wasn't aware she'd let the red fade from her armour to white. Partially out of sympathy for Charlotte, so she put an arm around the girl's shoulder to comfort her. She just wanted to scoop the girl up and cuddle her until everything was better and the world made sense. It hurt her heart to hear this, almost so that she forgot she had also been assaulted.

The mannequin, on the other hand, was just unnatural. She tensed, ready to throw up a shield. Somehow, she knew that Dragon would hit the thing, hard, had Charlotte not stopped it. "So what is this?" Dragon growled. "That's also just a tool you used, like that pistol?" He turned away from the table, kicking a couch with a thump and a shout. Spectrum flinched, but turned back to the faceless thing. She didn't know what to do anymore.

Regan's sigh was heavy and she didn't hide it. This is a hot mess. She thought. Here was a kid who was obviously distraught by the loss of her parents, who was enabled to do what other children in her position would only dream about in their wildest dreams. And at the same time the girl was evidently well mannered and all in all a good kid. She understood what she'd done and the consequences that came with it. Still, Charlotte was too close to it to see, but the drive for vengeance was born out of an unforgivable trauma and the enablement her powers provided her with. Powers she was probably not yet mature enough for at the time of her parent's murder. I child's sorrow was a dangerous thing. Coupled with an Epic power like Charlotte's even more so. I will not allow this girl to go to prison for ending a scumbag like Blacklight! Especially not when she's fully aware of what she's done and the remorse that is evident in her. But what could she do to make this right?

Regan paid no mind to Dragon's outburst. It was more than clear that the three of them were still feeling the effects of what had happened. She couldn't discern quite yet the relationship between Dragon and Spectrum. A romantic liaison was one possibility, of course. But it could also be as innocent as two Epic friends having a quiet evening at home. She looked at Charlotte, nestled under Spectrum's shoulder, like a little bird beneath its mother's wing. I'm sorry kid. I'm sorry, because you're gonna live with this for the rest of your life. But I'm not gonna put you in jail even if it costs me my job. You've paid enough as it is already. Regan remembered her own childhood before she was adopted. She remembered learning about her birth mother, violated by the crazy Epic. What would she have done had she Charlotte's powers. She didn't what to think about it.

"Spectrum." She addressed the armored Epic. "Do you mind taking Charlotte to the other room so she can calm down?" She nodded encouragingly. Then she turned to Dragon. "You and I need to talk some more." Though she'd let his outburst slide, Regan wanted to know the real reason behind it. "Charlotte, please have your... friend, relinquish the weapon and then... they can come with you and Spectrum if you wish." Regan was having a hard time determining how to address Charlotte's homunculus.

"Let's go, Char," Spectrum hoped the girl didn't mind her name being shortened like that. In any case, she stood and held her arms open, inviting the girl to come to her. Dragon, for his part, calmed down enough to sit back at the table. "There's going to be some consequences for this, isn't there?" He asked Murphy, quietly so that neither Spectrum no Charlotte could hear. "We can't keep her from this."

Charlotte nodded, and left them. She gave Spectrum a thankful smile, but shook her head, refusing her offer. Right now, she wanted to be with her companions. There were things that needed to be settled, in the case that she . . . would be separated from them. Chesire and White Knight were waiting for her on the roof. Wordlessly, Aida slung the large sniper rifle and placed it in front of Regan, staring at the woman for a tense moment before nodding, and followed after her mistress.

"I suppose things can only get worse before they get better," commented Charlotte idly, once they were out of the room. The future was so uncertain now, no different from the time Blacklight killed her parents. It seemed the man was determined to inflict pain on her, even from beyond the grave. Spectrum watched her go, then sat again and folded her arms in front of her. This was so bad, she just wanted to run away and hide again. Why was life so complicated? Her head fell into her arms with a lighter-than-it-sounded thunk.

Regan waited for Charlotte to exit the room. She wasn't surprised the girl declined Spectrum's company. She couldn't imagine what she was going through right now. She was so young and yet, with such mature troubles plaguing her.

Upon Dragon's question she looked at him, pensive, trying to formulate an answer. "Children like Charlotte, who've lived through what she's lived through don't stay children for very long afterwards. But at the same time they are still childlike in their emotions and how they deal with them. Because they don't have the experience to process those like an adult." She paused looking first at Dragon Heart and then at Spectrum. "In her case her child rage at losing her parents in the most vile of ways had an outlet that no other child could have. Her powers. Like you I wish to protect her from this. Because she's suffered enough. And she will continue to suffer, because she will carry what she's done for the rest of her life. In here..." Regan tapped her chest where her heart was. "And in here." She finished pointing at her temple. "If her behaviour is any indication, she is a good kid that understands full well what she's done and was prepared to suffer the consequences. And then there is the remorse as well. Even though she might not know she's feeling that quite yet." She sighed heavily. "You're right though, Dragon. There must be some accountability for this. And as much as I want to help Charlotte, I cannot do it unless you give me something to work with."

She stood and pointed at the sniper rifle. "This might be Epic City. But even we don't have legislation for prosecuting a... a... whatever Charlotte's constructs are." She returned her gaze to Dragon and Spectrum. "Give me something." It sounded more like a plea, rather than a demand.

Dragon shrugged. "I have no idea. My people could probably tell you copyright law back to front but..." Spectrum looked up. "What?"

"If you have a lawyer, they could help, right?" Spectrum asked, her eyes widening.

Regan was thoughtful for a long time. If Charlotte cooperated and they kept the premeditation out of the picture they had a chance at keeping her out of jail. The problem was the girl was actually a good kid with her morals in the right place. She new what she'd done and expected full well to pay for it. The PART officer wasn't sure Charlotte would agree to Dragon, Spectrum and herself perjuring themselves by omitting some details from their testimony and Regan from her report.

"Do you think you two can convince Charlotte not to mention she knew who she was fighting before she dealt the final blow. The premeditation would be pretty hard to fight, but it can be explained by the trauma of her parents being killed by Blacklight. If we convince the courts she entered the fight not knowing it was Blacklight and killed him only when she saw him it could get chalked up to the heat of the moment. A good lawyer would be able to get her a suspended sentence with a lot of stipulations, I'm sure." Regan looked Dragon Heart and Spectrum grimly. "It's not ideal, but it would at least keep her out of the adult courts and prison as well." She finished and fell silent.

Dragon nodded. "If she comes back here and doesn't disappear, perhaps." He had started working on his phone, no doubt trying to find some of those "people" he mentioned earlier.

". . . is what they're saying."

Unbeknownst to the trio of people, Cheshire had listened in on their conversation, relaying everything they had discussed to Charlotte. The girl and her children were on the roof of the apartment, with Charlotte herself leaning on the rails, looking down at the street below. The police were examining the scene. Pedestrians looked on with interest, while passing cars honked at the disruption of traffic. Elsewhere, she could see kids playing in a park, and just a bit further from them were college students, out and ready to have a good time.

It felt so strange, that the world could go on, unmoved by the events that had shaken her. For her, it felt as though time had frozen, but from atop the roof she could see that wasn't the case -- life went on, as it always did.

"I suppose I am still just a kid," she murmured.

Cheshire plodded his way to her, rubbing himself at her feet in an attempt to comfort her.

"A remarkable kid, Mistress, a very, very remarkable and talented and amazing kid."

"But a kid, nonetheless."

Silence reigned between them, before White Knight broke it with a clear of his throat.

"I- I have yet to see Master Aida. Perchance she is busy with something Mistress?" he said, an obvious attempt to distract them. Unlikely as it seemed, however, it worked. Looking around, Charlotte realized that the maid was indeed nowhere to be found. Attempts to contact her through their mental link came up with nothing.

She was deliberately not replying.

Charlotte frowned. That was strange, Aida never kept secrets from her. She never felt the need to. If she was doing so now, that meant-!

She turned so suddenly that the cat next to her jump about a meter in the air. "Cheshire, listen in on the conversation below us again, now!"

The cat nodded quickly, beginning to do just that when suddenly dark, violent thoughts barged their way into his mind, freezing him in his tracks. 'Don't' it cried out, as a warning and plea in one. Begging him to sit this out, telling him to lie, and promising pain and hell if he didn't. More importantly, those dark and terrifying shadows all screamed with Aida's voice.

He licked his lips to drive away the nerves. This was becoming more complicated by the second . . .

---

She was her world. Her mother, her daughter, her master, her treasure. She would do anything for her. She was a light that deserved better than this wretched earth; a pearl among the refuse of swine; a jewel buried under mounds of dirty coal. She believed in the goodness of heroes, and the ability of the righteous to triumph over evil -- she never said so openly, but sometimes, her thoughts slipped, and she caught glimpses of the truth.

She was different. She hated the world, hated what it put her through, hated it for what it will continue to put her through, because so long as there is injustice in the world, her mistress will ever seek to correct it - even in herself. She could care less - if it made her happy, then she would gladly burn the world, slaughter the innocent, and boil children alive. She would tear puppies limb from limb, just the same as she would hang a villain by his fingers, and feed their cohorts to the lions for supper. She would do all that and more, if it meant her happiness.

Despite everything however, despite all that happened to her, her mistress still held fast to her values, still believed in the strength of good and the power of justice. She didn't understand it, but then again, why bother? She wouldn't question it. If that was what her mistress believed in then that would be her mission, and every second since the day she was born she served without questioning it.

Not today, however. Not when the one chance for her to be happy, when she was finally free of Blacklight's haunting shadow, was threatened by the law of all things. The same inept and useless law that forced her mistress in that position in the first place. The same law that her mistress would hold up, and would gladly martyr herself to. Not today, not while she still lived.

Aida put on a face - it was the face of Camilla, the fake person that her mistress had commissioned for her identity as a maid - and that face was smoothed into a disciplined expression. Her identity may be fake, but it was real enough for the rest of the world, and that was all that mattered. Without knocking, she walked into the room with Spectrum, Dragon, and Regan, greeting them all with a polite bow. "I've come to talk. I have an idea, and you will listen. I believe I can get the mistress out of this entirely."

Regan barely suppressed the urge to shoot to her feet and reach for her sidearm upon the sudden arrival of the newcomer. The woman greeted them politely and proceeded to state her intentions to help her mistress. Mistress? Is she talking about Charlotte? Is this the... that homunculus sniper thing that was here a while ago?!? Regan didn't like how forceful the woman was with her words, but if she had an idea about how to get Charlotte out of this mess, she was willing to listen.

The PART officer glanced at Dragon and Spectrum. "There is no need to force us to listen to you. If you are here to talk to us about helping Charlotte we want that as well. She's suffered enough already as it is." Regan fell silent, staring expectantly at the woman.

Without further preamble, Aida continued without pause. "On paper, I am Camilla Anderson. The sniper, Charlotte Lutwidge's head-maid, and current legal guardian. I am also responsible for enabling her to build the resources and develop the mentality necessary to end Blacklight, who killed my employers - her parents - and close friends." She paused for a moment, to let that sink in. The implications of what she was saying should've been obvious. "If anyone is to be taking the blame, then it will be me."

Spectrum blinked, still processing the mannequin being able to walk and talk, more than what it was saying. Dragon, however, was more on top of things. "But you're a dum-" he stopped himself. "You're not a person. You can't prosecute a gun, can you?"

Regan considered the situation carefully. While the homunculus' offer was appealing, they were all missing the point. She stood up and said as much.

"You are all missing the point here." She looked at Dragon and Spectrum... and then at Charlotte's construct. "This is not about assigning blame. If blame is to be attributed, it belongs all to Blacklight. His actions had consequences. And those led to his death. But Charlotte's actions have consequences of their own. The circumstances, of course would be considered. And this is what I'm trying to establish here in the best possible way as to minimize her further suffering." She fixed Camilla with a hard stare. "But make no mistake. Charlotte will pay for the life she took. Even though it might not be in the way you imagine it. Taking a life, no matter the circumstances, is a lifelong punishment in and of itself, if one is a good and caring person. And Charlotte seems to be those."

Regan approached the construct, which was alive for all intents and purposes. She peered into Camilla's eyes. "Even if we could tag you for this, which we couldn't because the evidence will contradict it, you didn't pull the trigger for the killing shot. Nothing you do will change that." The PART officer pulled back. "But I said I'd listen and so I will. What exactly do you propose?"

Dragon put down his phone. "I think I get it. If the mannequin is legally a person, can't it legally stand trial for the crime? You can sue companies, according to Arthur." He started scrolling down his phone's screen, explaining, "Arthur's my lawyer. Arthur Savage. Maybe he can get the legals straightened out here. Lieutenant, are you allowed to be around when the defence is being sorted out?"

Regan sighed. She wasn't getting through to them. "First of all, it's Corporal. Not Lieutenant, but thanks for the promotion. And the only thing Camilla here can stand trial for is assault and grievous bodily harm. The finishing shot came from Charlotte and the evidence will point to that. You cannot transplant this act onto Charlotte's... construct." Regan paused to collect her thoughts and try to explain once again the procedure and what she could do to help the girl. "I'll need to file a report. Evidence will be collected, statements. What we can hope to do and you can ask your lawyer to do, is to keep Charlotte out of the adult courts and push for suspended sentence. Whatever we do must corroborate the evidence collected." She fell silent again. Her gaze shifted from Dragon, to Spectrum, to Camilla. She felt the beginnings of a headache. Frowning she pinched the bridge of her nose and thought of Teagan, bringing her tea. A small smile crept up her lips.

"Make your report, Corporal," Dragon declared. He hit a number on his phone. "And I'll make my calls. Hello?" He said into the phone. "Put me through to Savage. His favourite client with a big challenge. He'll know what I'm talking about. Listen, kid, you'll put me through and you'll get a pay rise."

Regan stood. "Very well." She nodded at Dragon, electing to forgo his tone of voice. "You do what needs to be done on your end and believe me I'll do whatever I can to keep Charlotte out of jail." She headed for the door, but before she exited Regan turned to look at all of them. "Expect officers to come and take you to the station for your statements. I trust you'll cooperate." The PART officer nodded and left the apartment, closing the door behind her. She sighed heavily, rubbed her eyes and started down the stairs to issue instructions to the uniform officers and the criminology teams. Regan fished out her phone from her front jeans pocket and looked up Teagan's contact.

'Hey...' She started texting. 'Don't know how much long I'll be. I got a dead Epic villain on may hands and a ton of paperwork to go with it. I'll call you when I have a breath of fresh air. I miss you.' She hit send and went about her business.

---

It was night. The fourth night since the Behir and Snapper had appeared and been dealt with. The fourth night of stalking her target.

The man in question appeared to have minor Epic powers for strength and a something that let him get what he wanted from people. Lucky couldn't be sure if it was a psychic ability or something pheromonal, or something else entirely. But in the end, it was of another concern.

Zeltrax, as he'd taken to calling himself, was a dangerous man. He mugged victims for money and items, sometimes just for the fun of it. His victims ended up anywhere from ruffled to dead, with several having been sexually assaulted as well.

Lucky couldn't stand filth like him.

Unfortunately, she had missed him on his last victim, showing up a mere twenty minutes late to the scene. The poor guy, who looked in his mid twenties, had been beaten pretty bad for the fun of it, left bleeding profusely in an alley.

It was times like this that Lucky wished she could trust her powers.

Now she was on what had been called Long Island before the Changing. Before the High. Now it was The Wilds, a place as unlike the City as one could expect. More rural, much more consumed by nature.

Plus, y'know, there was the problem of an increased number of monsters. Thankfully they had more room out here, with less reason to be violent, and were much more like the Snapper in the Park. Leave them alone and most would return the favor.

It had taken Lucky about an hour to traverse from the City into the heart of The Wilds to the grounds of the premier University in the area. Far enough from the City to avoid the common struggles and fights and attacks, Cisneros College for the Performing Arts was relatively large. Those who could afford to attended for a variety of programs for the Arts, and Lucky couldn't even begin to fathom why Zeltrax was entering the grounds.

And this was just another obstacle. It would be much harder to have him arrested out here unless she let him find a victim.... Assuming he even would.

It looked like Lucky was going to have to infiltrate the college and find him...

Hopefully before he hurt anyone else.

Alex.

Where'd you go, Alex?



You can't fit down a rabbit hole. I miss my best friend. Dragon's nice, but he isn't you.



I miss you, Alex. I haven't seen you since the building thing with the giant. I thought you'd be bothering me with questions about Dragon and dinner and all that.



Who's Guilt? And you weren't useless. You helped me.



You need a hug. No arguments. Get here now and have a hug.



Didn't I just say no excuses? You know where my place is.



😳 What? Why?



No... You said it was boring rich-people parties once, but I thought that was a joke.



Why? Want me to come fetch you then give you a hug?

You're getting a hug whether you like it or not.



Nuh uh. I'm fetching you first and then we're doing this over chocolate chocolate chip ice cream. A big tub.



Stairs.



Alex looked up at the incoming blue light, smiling softly. "I guess you were serious?"

"Yes." Spectrum landed lightly on the roof and fiercely hugged her. "I miss my best friend. And I have ice cream at home."

"But what about Dragon?"

Spectrum shifted a little. "My legs are sore and he's got to sort out lawyer things."

"Lawyer?" Alex asked with a raised eyebrow. "The fuck happened?"

"Ice cream!" Spectrum replied, slowly lowering them down the side of the building. "Then we talk about boys."

"I'm assuming that was 'later after ice cream.' You really shouldn't talk with your hands full, Spec." The frown on her mask didn't need translation. As they touched down, Spectrum waved her hand in a circle. Alex giggled. "Sorry, sorry. I couldn't resist." Her mirth faded as she glanced up at the towering building. "You said your place, right?" She asked quietly.

"Yep." Spectrum nodded. "Dragon's place is nice, but it's full of Dragon." She signed as she said it.

Alex nodded, taking a deep breath, and opened a portal. Spectrum pulled Alex through the portal, dropping her armour almost before portal could be closed. "In a rush?" Alex asked, amused.

Roxana ducked into her room, coming back out with a simple dress. "Ice cream," she explained, holding up a big tub. "Chocolate caramel vanilla chocolate chip!"

"You had me at 'chocolate', Rox," Alex smiled.

"But there's also caramel and vanilla and chocolate chips."

"Chocolate is this girl's best friend that isn't alive," Alex winked. "So, dish. What happened?"

Bringing two large spoons, Roxana came to the couch. "We did it."

"I figured, from the comment earlier."

Roxana blinked with the spoon still in her mouth. She swallowed, then said, "Which one?"

"You basically said you needed a break. Sore legs or something."

"Oh," she said. "Well, I do." Roxana spent a minute or two chasing a specific chip with her spoon, then added. "But he's really good at it, and I can't really have him too much in a row. But that's not what I wanna talk about. That Blacklight guy also showed up."

Alex put her spoon down. "What?"

"Blacklight showed up," Roxana repeated in a very careful, even voice. "He broke into the apartment, I threw him out, and he got killed. He's gone."

Alex blinked. "There is a lot missing in that synopsis, Rox." Roxana took another spoonful of ice cream, remaining silent. Alex shook her head. "Understood. Things that shouldn't be discussed. At least he's dead."

"There's cops and lawyers and all I wanted was to have my time with Dragon."

"Sacrifices are made by the great, to ensure the ongoing of the not so great," Alex muttered.

Roxana pouted. "What's that supposed to mean? Sounds like fancy university stuff."

"Cause it is. I forget the exact wording, but it's something Mass said in the early years. I think."

"Oh." Roxana licked her spoon. "But I'm worried that all of this will get in the way. With the cops and now Charlotte's trouble..."

"Don't know a Charlotte, Rox. And don't worry about it. It'll work out, if both sides want it to."

"I don't know anymore." Rox sighed. "She shot him, but her dummy wants to take the blame and there's lawyers." She wiped her eyes. "I'm not smart, I know that. But why can't everything just be fine? Why can't I just have nice things?"

"Diamonds before as ugly, rough rocks and turn into beautiful things under pressure. Will you let this pressure crack and break what you love, or make it even more beautiful?" Alex asked quietly. "Nothing in this City is easy anymore, Rox. Barely anywhere in the world is. We fight and we die. Make the most of the wonder you have, because most of us can't even see a hint of it." She tilted her head a little. "I'm sounding patronising, aren't I?"

Roxana stuck her spoon in the ice cream. "You're sounding like you haven't had enough ice cream. I don't think life is supposed to be easy, but it should be simpler. I like Dragon. I like being with him. Charlotte is cute and should be a little girl like she's supposed to."

"Seems simple enough. So there's extra baggage, who cares?" Alex replied. "I'm just saying, nothing is simple anymore."

"Ice cream is simple," Roxana said. "Eat lots, get big boobs." She giggled. "Dragon really likes my boobs. Almost as much as I like his..."

Alex rolled her eyes. "I could've told you that would be the case, goober."

"He does this thing with his hands and tongue." She shivered. "But that's why I need a break. Or I'll just forget about stuff and turn into a raisin."

Alex snorted, then laughed. "So what you're telling me is, is that you ruined his bedsheets."

"Noo..." Roxana smiled. "That was his fault."

Alex poked her tongue out. "Semantics."

"Bet you made a mess on bedsheets more often than I have." Roxana stuck her tongue out. "You do something when you let the boys take you home."

"Lady has to keep her secrets," Alex said with a wink. "And not as often as you would think. Most men suck."

Waggling her spoon so that a scoop fell back into the bucket, Roxana replied, "But you did tell me all about that one guy who kept you going for fifteen minutes. That's a secret."

"He was special." Alex sighed. "Pretty sure he's dead."

Roxana stuck her spoon into the ice cream tub. "OK. You're not allowed to be so sad. I don't like it. Tell me what's wrong, and then we fix it, and then Alex is happy and funny again."

"What Guilt said is bothering me. I don't know if it was a personal warning or, as she thinks, a warning for all of us. And I was useless with the Harpies and Behir. How often will I be useless when it matters, again?"

"You're not useless," Roxana took Alex' hand. "You just found a place where you couldn't help. I know that feeling. Have I told you I only got my armour after high school? Before then, I was just a light bulb. I was supposed to be an Epic, but I couldn't do anything except cause trouble for people. Now I can help, and I want to."

"I've been useless in much worse situations, Rox....too often."

"Alex!" Roxana took her friend by the shoulders. "You're not useless. You saved the city more than once. The whole rat thing you won almost on your own. And you're my best friend."

"I didn't win the rats. I merely helped offer the means to. I do what I can because I must. I can't be weak like... Before. But I still am, Rox. I just hide it very well. Why do you think I let them see me as a Trickster?" Alex sounded incredibly stressed.

Roxana started to look slightly panicked, but she swallowed her anxiety. Alex had helped her through all sorts of things, so now it was her turn. "Because you want them to focus on Traveler, not Alex. And so Traveler doesn't have to have all of Alex' troubles."

"... Because Traveler is stronger than Alex..." She murmured.

"And Spectrum is stronger than Roxana," She replied, putting the ice cream aside and hugging Alex. "But Alex and Roxana are strongest together. Best friends, remember?"

"And when I'm alone?" Alex sighed. "I'm sorry, Rox. I've been thinking too much about... The past."

Roxana hugged her harder. "You're not alone. I'm here. And when I'm not here I will be there for you, like you have been for me." She sniffed. "You're my best friend that I ever had. Don't ever say you're useless, because that means I'm worse than useless because you had to help me and I can't be that bad."

There was a weird look on Alex's face. "Have people died because of you, Rox? Because you didn't act when you could've? That is why part of why I'm useless."

"I don't know." Roxana sniffled again on Alex's shoulder. "I couldn't even help myself for years, I was so scared. Then I got my armour and you helped me and I'm all OK. You're not useless. You saved me. You save people. The past is horrible and dark and I hate it. We're friends and we go forward, OK?"

"Yeah, you're right, I guess." Alex sighed again. "Thank you, Rox."

Roxana leaned back and wiped her nose. "That was scary, Alex." "Don't be all sad and sighy. It's not you. You're awesome and funny and everybody likes you."

" I've got an ugly past, Rox. I just try hard is all," Alex laughed lightly. "I'm not as great as you think."

---

"You all have your missions. I expect flawlessness as always. Understood?"

There was murmured agreement, the nodding of heads, with one figure remaining stoic.

"Travel in pairs, with the one exception. I will be along shortly after. Let the beginning of my Ascension commence. You shall be rewarded for your successes."

---

---

Alex looked around with a sigh. Two weeks had passed since the Behir incident, and she'd been struggling with finding that personal confidence again ever since. Roxana talked with her regularly, but action was required. Action was her peace, her mantra, her life. It was where she flourished, defeating the evils of the City with powers that weren't offensively based.

And ever since that meeting with Guilt, Alex had been on edge. A shiver crawled up her spine, the tingle extending through the hair on the nape of her neck, traveling like electricity through her limbs at the thought. She patrolled constantly, taking breaks only to rest, refuel, and catch up with her friend. If something happened, she needed to be the first to discover it. She had to be the one to stop it, she insisted to herself. No one else caught the little details.

Now she stood on the southern docks, a heavy fog rolling in from the relatively calm water, with no light but the stars and artificial light from the City to brighten her steps as she walked slowly onward. The slap of water, creak and groan of wood, and the faint sounds from the City being her only companions.

Not that she knew they were there. She could only guess at what sounds were playing their joyless tune around her.

Something changed in the air, or perhaps in herself. A small shift, things became too still, and she stopped walking to look around slowly.

It's been a long time, a voice resonated in her mind. She froze, wide eyed, as she could swear she could hear the voice. His voice.

Alex looked around again, spying a figure walking through the mist. She could faintly make out what appeared to be a schoolgirls outfit. A light breeze pushed the fog from their face, revealing a disturbing image.

It was Alex's own face, twisted and defiled into something sinister. Something innately wrong . The eyes sparked with malevolent light, as a grin slowly spread across the face, stretching the skin tight. Alex instinctively stepped backwards, only to find her body wouldn't move. Couldn't move. The figure stepped ever closer, leering like the insane, before stopping and raising it's arms as if to hug her.

Another voice whispered in Alex's mind, and again she felt as if she heard it with her ears.

I have waited long to meet the illustrious Alexandria Newt. I've been ever so bored, and I think this will help weather the blight upon my mind. Tell me, how does it feel to be devoid of that little piece that makes you special? The voice was distinctively female, and sounded incredibly bored.

"Who are you? What are you?" Alex managed to speak up.

Can't you tell? I'm your own personal hell. But that's alright, because I've brought your personal demon. Let us rip out your heart and burn your mind, cut you open like a pig's hide.

A crackle of blue light appeared behind the figure, blinding in the darkness, seeming to tear open the very air.

Another two figure stepped out, one drifting away into dust moments later. The new figure walked forward in a black suit with a stunningly bright white tie. The newcomer stopped just closer than the first had, and their face was a black mask with white cracks along the surface. And the eyes shining from beneath...

"NO!" Alex screamed, her voice breaking into a sob. "You can't be here. You can't exist. You're dead !"

That's a terrible way to greet your only brother, Alex. He said in a disappointed tone, a slight clicking of his tongue at the end. The eldest is supposed to have better manners, I thought. Isn't that what mother always told you?

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Alex choked out. Her body still ignoring her commands was the only thing keeping her standing at this point.

But sister, it's been too long. Do Mom and Dad know you wear that out and about? And I see you kept my sword. But you can keep that thing, I've had better made.

At the mention, the figure drew a sword from his back, the metal impossible to see in the darkness except for a glint as light from the City caught its edge. In a blur of movement the point appeared in front of her left eye, mere millimeters from her pupil. It moved slowly, tracing her cheek in an absurd mockery of a caress of cold metal.

"Wh-what do you want?"

To remind you of your greatest failure. Of the day you let me die. I never got to thank you for that. Because of your worthless act, or rather lack of action, I was reborn into something much greater.

"I tried! I tried to save you, but-"

But you failed, and you let me die. You didn't even try to avenge my death. If not for my own power Awakening, I would have died. Because of you. Because you were weak.

"No..." Alex protested feebly. She gasped lightly as the blade traveled down her neck, drawing blood.

Enough. You failed like you failed when you were kidnapped. You let those men defile you. You let me die. You let Pyprus get away. But me? I never failed. And I'll even be nice and give you a chance at redemption.

"How?"

The blade stopped at her collarbone, the flat side tapping against her in time with her frantic heartbeat.

Join us. Join our cause to fix this world and right the wrongs. For once not be a failure. And in return, we can fix your hearing. We can fix you.

Alex closed her eyes, a river of tears falling from her face.

You have until tomorrow to decide. I'll be back. And sis? Don't disappoint me.

Be a hero for once in your life, the woman's voice added.

The blade lifted and the figures disappeared in the bright blue light. Finally Alex fell to her knees, shudders running across her body, as she sobbed over a mixture of emotions.

Hours passed before she could stand. Defeated on an emotional level, she walked home slowly, a red line on her face and an open cut down her neck.

Be a hero for once in your life resonated in her head the entire way.

Picking up her phone, she look at the last text from Rox.


She felt like she was spiraling down, ever deeper.

What was she supposed to do? Choose between two people she loved, two sides of the same coin?

Alex fell onto the bed, and cried until she knew no more.

Hostage Rescue
Collab betwen @Flamelord and @Mercenary Lord, with a rogue appearance by @Old Amsterdam

David was invisible and intangible, and nearly overshot the carnival grounds at the speed he was going. Instead, he dipped and plunged through the wall of one of the old attractions, still standing strong after so many months of disuse.

He saw a man trotting across the room, which looked like some kind of abandoned food court. Naturally he followed the guy, who led him across the fairgrounds to...a hall of mirrors? It was creepy as shit to see no reflection in the mirrors. He'd never liked these places. They felt haunted.

Then smiled. Or well, he would have smiled if he could have. He reached back with a "mental" fist and slammed it into the mirror in front of him. He hissed out an audible groan sound as he did so. The glass shattered and fell to the ground with an eerie tinkling.

Understandably, Finch had sent out guards to make sure the cops didn't show up with an army while he was waiting for the ransom time limit to expire. Actually to be honest they were more like the advance warning system, since he didn't hold any hopes that they would be successful in stopping anything. You couldn't expect too much from mundane help in a city like this.

"Gaa! What the fuck!" The poor guard spun around as he heard the sound of breaking glass, holding on to his weapons ready to shoot. He was quick to look around the area to make sure that no one was there, and he would not be pleased with anyone he found. It was unlikely that he would though, and the guard muttered to himself as he moved on. A mirror breaking in a place like this? It might be bad luck, but if no one was around then it was probably a coincidence

Everything was going according to David's lack of a plan. He punched another mirror, cracking it as well. Then he growled audibly, his voice echoing through the chamber with a threatening rumble.

He floated forward, passing through the man before him. Looked like some kind of hired help: the officer's at the station had shown a picture of the "Finch" guy, and this man wasn't him. Phantom trailed a hand down the man's back. WHO IS YOUR MASTER. WHO BROUGHT YOU TO MY ABODE. The voice came from him, but it sounded as if it came from everywhere.

With David intensifying his act the guard's will crumbled very rapidly as he spun around, jumping and otherwise becoming much more twitchy. Upon feeling the hands on his back he would spin around, firing off several shots at the most likely intangible, invisible, and otherwise bulletproof man. "Fucking fuck man," the guard yelled, clearly panicking"Where are you?"

After a moment he went for a radio on his belt, the means by which he would remain in contact with his boss and the other guards. Understandably the radio chatter had picked up with the gunfire, people wondering if they were under attack. "There's some kind of fucking ghost man, it's breaking mirrors and shit all around me! This place is haunted dude!"

That earned a calm and rational response, as Finch dealt with his subordinates stupidity. Unlike them he could see the big picture, or so he liked to think. At the very least he was smart enough to put together the information here. "It's not a ghost," he replied with an inaudible sigh. "It's probably an Epic. You think it's just pure coincidence that this place became haunted after I delivered our ransom note, and not before?"

"Well what do we do boss?" the man practically yelled back. A good question, and one that Finch was working on as the guard paced anxiously through the mirror maze. Things could be going better, that was for sure.

Time Until Police Arrive: 20 Minutes

Damn, he'd been found out. Back in the day, when he was first manifesting, it had been a lot easier to convince people he was an evil spirit. Nowadays, everyone just assumed epics were the cause of everything. Ah well.

He punched the terrified man he'd been following, grabbing the radio as the man fell. "Finch. Finch...wren, sparrow, crow. Where should I go?" Each sentence was punctuated by a horrifyingly-shuddering breath. "Let's...chat...friend."

David really got a little to into his ghostly persona sometimes. Couldn't help it.

"Gah!" The guard stumbled when it, slamming into one of the walls where the mirror had already been broken by something or other. It saved stuff from breaking further at least, though that didn't matter as much in a place like this. Th radio was left to hover and the gun clattered away, rendering him unable to use it even if it hadn't done anything in the first place.

He was left to scrabble away, still freaked out even if it was an Epic that was doing this and not a genuine ghost. "O-Other side of the maze," he stuttered. The maze would probably not be a deterrent though, since it didn't seem like the Epic was willing to play along with it. But that wasn't his problem, he just wanted to come out in one piece

Time Until Police Arrive: 18 Minutes

Other end of the maze, huh? David floated upward, glancing down the hall of mirrors. He could see that for normal people, it would be a real bitch to get through. He didn't really have that problem, of course. Still, it paid to be wary. The last time he had blundered into a firefight without caution, he'd gotten a giant hole blown through his phantasmal chest.

A screeching noise outside drew his attention briefly. He phased through the wall of the building just in time to see Ernie launch a wave of fire across the fairgrounds. "Dude!" David called. "Why--"

"Kenny said to do it," Ernie said. His confusing, high-tech leg harness clicked as he turned to face the now-visible Phantom. "Plus this place is old, anyway. Nothing really worth saving.

"Where is Kenny?" David asked. By now people were moving against the Epic flamelauncher. Finch's hired guys, probably.

"She went after the Finch guy. She's hopped up on Garfield's senses, so she heard that guy you spooked."

Phantom cursed and turned back to the house. Fucking Kenny. They had no idea what this guy could do, and she just rushed inside like an idiot. He phased back into the hall of mirrors just in time to see Kenny hurl a tennis ball into one of the walls. The ball bounced off five mirrors and head-shotted one of the men who had been shooting at her. "Kenny!" He shouted, now fully visible as a ghostly, cloak-clad phantasm. She waved at him and caught the tennis ball, which had somehow rebounded right back into her hand.

So much for stealth. With Ernie and Vince outside, and Kenny inside, his hope to resolve things stealthily vaporized. This had the potential to get bad really quickly.

Things were rapidly flying out of control, if Finch was willing to allow himself to use a particular phrase such as that in fitting with his bird nature. Not only did he have some ghost ruining his maze, but there were also some Epics outside who had decided that the best way to stop him would be to torch the fairground and leave the rest to sort itself out.

From the room he was currently in, Finch sighed as he rubbed his forehead. Why couldn't things just stay simple for once?

After a moment the radio crackled back to life, this time hopefully directed to the Epics currently assaulting his base of operations. "I would be careful with all that fire if I were you. It would be very tragic if the Mayor was burned alive by the very people supposedly trying to save him. But I guess he is just a politician. They come a dime a dozen these days."

There, hopefully that got them to cool it a bit and give his people more of a chance. He could hope at the very least.

His men swung into action, responding to th frontal assault in the best way that they knew how. assault rifles and other such weaponry opened fire on any targets that could be spotted, while more men moved towards the known confrontations and away from Finch himself. There would be stiff resistance now, even if they had been expecting a police assault and not a team of Epics.

The maze would not be much better. Sure, it was easy for someone who could become intangible and fly through walls, but for the more mundane not only would they have to deal with the maze and the guards moving through it, but there were traps as well that took advantage of the mirror structure. False floors, blades in the spaces between mirrors, someone had definitely invested time in rigging this place to be a problem for a mundane force. Whether it worked against Epics, well, that remained to be seen.

Time Until Police Arrive: 15 Minutes

"Sir, the helo is in the air. We've got reports of Epic involvement. Possibly a turf war," a voice reported over the special line for PART for situations like this.

"Proceed with caution. Get the helo in there first," the Captain replied after a moments deliberation

Kenny stopped, ducking behind cover. "Fucker has a point," she said slowly. "Ernie!" she shouted into the radio. "Precision strikes now. Don't fry the mayor, we don't have mayor insurance!"

"Right," came the grunted reply, and a crackle of lightning seared across the outside. The accompanying thundercrack rocked the house of mirrors, and Kenny stumbled briefly before catching herself. She dropped the tennis ball and dove out of cover, seeking to reach another wall.

"Shit!" she hissed, as a floor plate gave out beneath her. She twisted perfectly in the air and snagged the lip of the pit with one hand, tennis ball in the other. She hurled it into the air, caught her other hand on the edge, and heaved herself to safety. Then the ball landed on her head and balanced there without a quiver. David would have shaken his head in amazement: her physical control was maddeningly beautiful.

Those mirrors were going to be a problem. They hid things that could hurt Kenny. He was safe, but she wasn't. He had an idea. "Kenny, throw the ball and get out of here!" he hissed to her, invisible at her side.

She cocked an eyebrow, then threw it forward, bolting over the pit toward the entrance. David concentrated on the ball, on what he needed it to do. It accelerated suddenly, propelled by the full force of a single human body. Instead of being limited to the force he could naturally generate, it was as if all possible energy of his body was poured into one point behind the ball.

It slammed into a mirror with a crunch, a crack, and a shatter. Then into the next one, and the next one, and the next, fragmenting each mirror as it passed through. Falling shards of glass could possibly trigger other traps. One by one, the mirrors fell, shattered by his will, and the fragmenting tennis ball.

He let the ball drop and whooshed forward, finding the man who could only be Finch. He looked...fairly unremarkable. Standard villain with standard villain fedora. "BEGONE FROM MY HOME, INTERLOPERS." He bellowed, pleased with how his voice rumbled across the building.

Finch took some small pleasure in convincing the assaulting group to do as he suggested, and reducing their attacks from flagrant destruction of everything to more targeted blows. At the very least it bought him time as his men fought it out with them.

Not to say that his men were doing well, of course. They were giving it their best but they were simply outclassed in a situation like this. But they all knew that the police weren't far away, which served as something of an incentive to provide a more firm resistance. If they still had the hostage then they could at least negotiate their escape, right?

Unfortunately he had not anticipated all the powers in play, like the tennis ball that suddenly smashed straight through the room he was in, leaving two decent sized holes much too close for comfort. It certainly got the adrenaline pumping as he scrabbled to sit up, just in time to present a good impression for what came next in this daring adventure.

"I believe this falls under that ancient right of 'finders keepers, losers weepers,' actually," Finch replied with a light smile as he looked around for the source of the voice. "Since we both know you're not actually a ghost that conveniently decided to show up now rather than back when I was setting up shop here. That and this place closed because of financial troubles, not tragedy. Unless the dead have gotten lazy and are really off their game recently."

That said, he prepared himself for whatever invisible blow might follow. He didn't know all that this guy could do, so his best chance was to stay on his guard and be ready for anything. He was not about to go down quite that easily. "so, are you planning to talk me into arresting myself, or what?" Finch just needed to stall and buy time

Time Until Police Arrive: 10 Minutes, Heli in 5

David hesitated. Technically, he could just hit the guy. It was possible. But on the other hand, they still didn't know where the mayor was. Did this guy have a backup plan? If he went down, would they kill the mayor? Probably. That sounded like a thing villains did. Shit.

"WHY HAVE YOU COME HERE?" He asked. It was really all he could do to buy time. Garfield was their best chance at finding the mayor, since he had the super-senses, so David had to buy some time. "THERE IS NOTHING FOR YOU HERE."

Well then, it seemed that the ghost routine would not be dropped. That was unfortunate, but it was probably intentional. He did know the guy did something with energy or motion or velocity, if the thing with the tennis ball was any indication. He'd need to be careful about that, and his hand dropped to grab one of the rolls of glass in his pocket as he rose to his feet.

"You know why I'm here," he answered, continuing to hold that calm as best he could. "I'm here to make myself a lot of money, or end up with a dead mayor. Preferably the former but I'd be willing to accept the latter. Either way it sends a message."

As for the mayor himself, well, Garfield would soon begin to pinpoint his location. He was in the basement of the mirror house, strapped down to a table as one might expect. Of course the more worrying part of that would be the 'waterfall' style storage of glass mirrors, rigged up to fall when the storage device was opened and poised right above the mayor, so he would end up in a couple bits if it activated.

Well, what was a cliche villain without a cliche death trap?

To Vince, the bullets appeared to be swimming through water. They would kill him if they hit, like being slowly pushed into a razor sharp knife. Still, it was easy for him to dodge the danger, while lightning lanced past him to hit others. Garfield had gifted him the sensory improvement, so he was looking for the Mayor.

Kenny had exited the house of mirrors, screaming that David would take care of it. Made sense, the man was invisible and invincible. Let him handle the dangerous Epic with superpowers.

"Don't let them under the house!" He heard one of the men yell. "Finch'd kill us if we let them get the mayor!"

Naturally Vince moved to immediately get under the house of mirrors. He dodged the bullets and pushed forward, relying on Ernie to provide cover fire. Garfield sat in the car with David's body, all his power transferred to others.

Vince ducked down into the underbelly, sliding through a hole in the carnival supports. There was a little door down there: a basement? Behind him he heard shouting, and he turned abruptly, just in time to dodge the bullets flying toward him. He moved backward slowly, tentatively working his way to the door. Then in the span of seconds, he brute-forced the lock and slipped inside.

The mayor lay within, strapped to a table and gagged callously. The mayor's wide-eyed stare fixed on Vince in panic, and he "mmmmph"d against the gag. Vince looked up to see a series of mirrors descending upon the mayor in slow motion.

That wasn't good. He ripped the gag of the man's mouth, and broke him free of the restraints. They really had not been built to withstand enhanced strength. It took less than a second to free the man and get him out of harm's way. Vince keyed his mic and almost shouted. "I'VE GOT HIM! MAYOR'S SAFE!"

---

It was the words David had been waiting for. "BEGONE," he said, and sent a punch of psychic energy down toward Finch's head.

Before the punch could make contact, Phantom found himself become David again, waking up with a jerk.

Anyone attempting to move would find themselves stuck, frozen except for their eyes and their minds. Powers wouldn't activate and they were alone with their worst thoughts running through their minds.

Consider this a favor, Finch. We'll be seeing you soon. Take your leave while you can.

Only Finch would hear this message from a mysterious male voice, and only he would have the chance to escape. Attempting anything but straight escape would result in terrible mental pain.

Finch's confidence lasted approximately until the radio went off again, informing him that the mayor had already been rescued and his bargaining chip had just vanished into thin air. He took the opportunity to curse fate for spiting his plans, which he figured was definitely fair in this regard. One Epic he was prepared for, but a team of them with bullshit abilities like Mister Untouchable (Who could still touch things himself apparently) here? He was fairly certain no one could be prepared for that.

He braced himself to be hit, and to go to jail for this. He'd break out sooner or later, he was sure of it. Might as well save his appearance.

Yet he was taken off guard by the guy suddenly vanishing, and everyone outside freezing. "What?" He asked to himself as he looked around, pausing as a voice appeared inside his head claiming that this was a favor of some kind. He didn't know who it was, and didn't know what they would want in return, but at this point he was not going to complain. it was his best choice to get out.

"Don't have to tell me twice," he muttered to no one in particular as he took his leave of the room, the building, and the premise. He'd made his point and gotten away scot free. Time to make sure the cops didn't hunt him down and the prepare for the next step.

---

The sun was high in the sky, darkened occasionally by clouds foretelling a coming storm. All across the City was business as normal. Another day of ordinary events.

Or so the people thought.

A loud crash turned heads and a car could be seen tumbling through the air, a mangled wreck of what once was a pristine vehicle.

The collision with a nearby building shook the structure, glass raining down from higher up. Screams pierced the air, and the running began.

Stepping forward from down the street was a hulking figure with four faces, a large hammer like object in his hands.

"Now, who leaves their car in a building, tch?" A male voice could be heard echoing through area. "Eh?"


He continued walking forward, casually taking down street lights, bashing cars into buildings, and continuing his path ever forward.

Walls emerged from the surroundings, confining the man within. [I'm going to have to ask you to calm down, Kevin.]

"Sorry big man, ain't possible," the emotionless man replied, pounding against a wall and beginning to break through it. "I've got a lot to get done, and unfortunately I don't have time to dilly dally."

With a lurch, the momentum of the box pressed him against a wall, stopping a few moments later and opening to reveal the Wilds.

The man laughed, an eerie sound in and of itself. "This won't stop me, tyrant. You cannot harm me, nor confine me like you prefer to."

Hearing his hammer higher, he started walking back towards the City.

[Kevin, I can literally do this until doomsday. Just turn around and go home.]

"And so can I, Titan. I am here to lock you back into your cage like Zeus did in the Beginning," the man scoffed. "I will do more than merely crack your Castle of Glass, tyrant. I will shatter it until it is dust."

[Wow, pseudoclassical mythological allusions. Does that make you a hecatoncheir?] The section of earth he was standing on turned 180 degrees mid-step, so when he put his foot down, it was away from the city. [Because I'm fairly certain they were the friends of the Gods.]

"You are no god." The man weaved his way back towards the City as he replied, using the hammer to help propel him forward. "You are a tyrant, consumed by power no mortal should control. You are more akin to the Titans as beasts and not Old Gods. Though if you want to continuing pretending to be a god, then you and your kind can be akin to Kronos and his ilk, and me and mine are the children come to take our rightful place."

The ground before him rose until it was nearly vertical, and then until it arched over his head. [Ooh, you're good at this whole mythology thing, Kevin. But I'm fairly certain I know where my children are, and you're too old to be one of mine. Give me a second, I'll check with the other High. Maybe the Prescient had a high-school fling and that's where your schoolgirl friend came from.]

"Joke all you want, tyrant. A real god is coming for you all," the man grunted as he snagged through the wall, finding more ground instead. He sighed. "You are like a child throwing a tantrum. Step aside, or show yourself."

[By all means, keep digging. You'll find something down there.] A face formed from the wall above his head. [And what's with this 'show yourself or step aside business? You've been walking on me ever since you arrived. Also, I would step aside, but have you ever seen islands walk?Let's just say I'd be doing more harm than good. How about this, Kevin? If you want to beat me up, I'll make a training dummy out of steel and copper and you can spend a productive few hours working out all that frustration. Then I'll get your schoolgirl friend and give you two a private room out here in the pristine countryside to enjoy yourselves in.]

"You are mistaken. I am alone. There is no girl with me. You are thinking of another." With a mighty crash, the man broke through the face and into open air again. "And you are not the island itself, as much as you would like me to believe. I know the truth, you are a man as I am. But you are much worse than I am."

[OK, now that's just insulting. Do you honestly think I didn't see... What's her name... Jennifer the second she set foot on Epic City soil?] The earth grew into a box once more, shuffling him to a different place. [Or was it Tabitha you had that crush on? The Clairvoyant mentioned you were having trouble confessing to one of your compatriots, but I wasn't really paying attention. Speaking of crushes...] The walls of the tomb began to slowly contract. [Now you can tell me what that metal-boned freak is up to, or you can feel exactly what 300 bar of 2-degree water feels like when it crushes you into the ocean floor.]

"I have not lied. I am here alone. What the others do is not of my concern. I would not be alone if others were with me. Specifics." The man crossed his arms, leaning on the hammer. "And you should know better, tyrant. You cannot simply kill me. Nor are you all knowing like you would like to think. You know only what we have allowed you to know."

The man spat on the floor of the cage. "I cannot be crushed. Quite literally, I may add. Nor can you simply drown me or attempt to fry me alive. It will not work. Many have tried."

He cracked his neck before continuing. "And for the record, he sends his regards. Alli, wasn't she called? He asked I mention that he knows. He will come for you next."

[You may not be able to be crushed, but I'm sure being squeezed like the last bit of toothpaste in the tube still hurts.]

The man chuckled, the sound echoing in the box. "You would be mistaken, tyrant. I do not feel anything. Pain. Sorrow. You cannot harm me, but I can harm you."

Anomaly

"... and ongoing coverage of the recent attack in downtown continues. Reports have been coming in of eyewitnesses reporting a hulk of an Epic wielding a giant hammer caused mass panic and destruction before the High Island stepped in with his signature manipulation of our very City to remove the danger. No further sightings have occurred, and this station personally hopes it remains that way."

"Yo P? I gotta go for a bit."

"Xox, why do you have to go exactly?"

"Check the TV report. No time to explain. See ya!"

Xoxi slammed the door behind her with a psychic fist as Pudding slowly moved towards the couch, listening to the TV and watching the news as it continued broadcasting the new story that was developing.

"Furthermore, unverified reports have claimed the unknown Epic was last sighted in the Wilds, still continuing his battle against the Island."

"... stay safe, kiddo."

Xoxi head towards the quickest entrance to Epic City proper while donning her crime fighting leather jacket. She could've probably bought an outfit with her... ahem, side-job, but honestly, nothing really beat out the jacket aside from a suit of armor. At least, that's what Xoxi thought about it.

Alto's hand paused on the phone screen. The news was playing on the television, telling him of the most recent developments. Supposedly the High Island had taken care of it, but of course there would still be some work to do. People would be injured, not many considering the quick response time and the threat hadn't been after people, but there were always injured.

He hesitated for another second or two before slipping his phone back into his pocket and heading out. By the time he got there it was likely emergency services would already be at the scene. Normally he wouldn't rush too much. After all, his specialty was destruction there usually wasn't much for him to do. But this felt different from all of the other incidents. Maybe it was the fact that the High Island had reacted so quickly. He had removed the threat as soon as he caught him, rather than let other Epics deal with it. That was usually the way the High operated except for in special cases...

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out to answer.

"Alto, we need you here boy," Jerry's voice said from the speaker. "We've got people trapped in the rubble."

"Understood." He replied calmly.

He already had the Vice Claw out, blazing a trail of flames as he leaped over smaller houses in his way and cut corners.

Hopefully nothing bad would happen.

Roxana pulled her knees up onto the couch and wrapped her arms around her legs as she tried to ignore the gnawing sense of worry in her stomach. She'd come to Dragon's house to find some comfort, but it was hard when he'd had to go deal with some hero business not two minutes after she'd arrived with Charlotte. The television was showing some movie Charlotte had chosen from Dragon's collection, but Roxana was focused on her phone, even if she wasn't directly looking at it.

It had to chirp soon with a message. She'd sent Alex messages every day, even when she stopped responding. The first day was alright, even if Roxana had gone out to check on Alex's apartment when she really shouldn't have. The second day without a message had left Roxana pacing around the house and flying around EC at speeds that would have made it impossible to actually see Alex. The third day, today, Charlotte had insisted that they go to Dragon's apartment. It hadn't helped. Roxana was still shining a watery blue with anxiety. Dragon had settled her feelings for a moment, but then he'd gone and the anxiety had come back.

"Come on, Alex," Roxana unfolded her thighs and grabbed the phone, opening her messages and looking at the last conversation in the chat. Don't forget Charlotte and I think you're awesome! Stay safe. That line was at the top of the screen now, with all the variations of Hey Alex and Where are you? that she'd sent into the empty, lonely void since Alex had disappeared. She sniffed slightly, fighting the anxiety down away from turning into tears.

The sound of the door opening had her out of the chair and clasping Dragon before he'd had time to put the keys down. "Please, please, please tell me you found something. Somebody must've heard something at the police station. Did you file a missing person's report? Tell me they're looking, that they're going to find her. I want Alex back and I'm scared she's gone…" Roxana felt his arms wrap gently around her and cradle her against his chest.

She was crying on his chest, and some part of her found that a little embarrassing, but she couldn't stop the tears now. "I spoke to the Chief, Spec. He owes me a favour, I told you." He lifted her into a bridal carry, and she buried her face against a slightly drier part of his shirt. She felt her ankles touch the leather of the couch as he sat down with her on his lap, letting her curl up against him. "What'd you find, Charlotte?" He asked, as Roxana sniffed. Worry tears were one thing, but she wasn't gong to get snot on him.

∆Stay where you are∆ One of the voices from the movie blared out, as if someone had sat on the remote control. ∆I can protect you, but only if you stay there, understand?∆ One of Dragon's arms released Roxana, and she looked around to see him picking up the remote. She turned to the movie just as it rewound a minute, cuing a serious-looking, dirty soldier to repeat the last line.

"That wasn't me," Dragon muttered. He felt around, perhaps brushing Roxana's butt a little more than he should have, trying to make sure they weren't pressing buttons on any other device. "Charlotte, you or your cat aren't messing with anything, are you?" He asked, putting the movie on pause with a hand past Roxana's head. ∆Stay where you are. I can protect you, but only if you stay there, understand?∆ This time Roxana almost jumped out of Dragon's lap. The screen hadn't moved. It was just the line being played again.

@thehangedman@Old Amsterdam

Finch

"Oh you've got to be kidding me."

The criminal grumbled to himself as he watched the tv, where a news report was lovingly going over the latest fight between the High and some armored figure. Of course the guy got almost immediately teleported out of the city, but the fight was still easy enough to find if you really looked for it with how the terrain was changing. Though understandably anyone foolish enough to go looking kept far away for now.

He took a sip from a cold bottle, Finch switching channels to see if he could find a different perspective somewhere else. This couldn't be the only news out there right? And maybe someone would be just a bit critical? One could hope at least. But no, that didn't seem to be the case.

Eventually he settled down, merely fuming in his chair. "I pull off that grand abduction, then in like a day something involving the High happens and they steal the spotlight," he muttered to himself. He sure wasn't going to get it back any time soon, that was for sure. They were much too entranced with their brave leaders out defending the city or whatever. It made better news than him apparently.

"Why should I be surprised." Well, there were some things that had gone well. He had escaped and was now holed up in a small apartment with some basic creature comforts like beer. All his looking had not turned up anything on the mysterious person who had helped him so recently during his escape, not that he had tried particularly hard. Somehow he had the feeling that they would be found when they wanted to be and not a minute sooner.

Switching channels, he finally settled on some music video, technopop or whatever that certainly had a nice bass kick and not much else. "Fine, I'll just have to come up with something new then," Finch sighed, It would have to be bigger and more impressive, more attention grabbing. And ideally a bit more Epic-proof as well. Chances like the last one weren't his cup of tea.

How hard could it be?

---

Several days had passed since Alex had swollen in her room and took off with nothing but her sword. His sword.

With red eyes and dirty tracks running down her face from dirt and sweat and tears all mixing together, she looked to the sky far away from everything.

I have to make a decision.

The thought sent shivers down her body, unrelated to the cold air and snow around her.

At the howl of wind cutting through the mountain side, Alex made her choice.

She needed to talk to them.

And since she couldn't find him even if she tried, which she had for years, that left Rox to be first.

With a sigh and a wipe of her face, Alex began the journey back down.

---

Alex looked across the City as her phone practically exploded with messages. Her face was a mixture of nothing and everything at once, giving it an off balance look.



Looking back at the cityscape for a moment, Alex pulled out the bulky thing Guilt had given her.


@thewizardguy

---

---

It had taken her days to properly locate the target, and then fully integrate herself into his class. She didn't even know what it was about, but she felt it was going to be the easiest way to get him alone and keep tabs on him until it was time to strike.

And that time was now.

On the guise of receiving tutoring, Lucky has finally managed to get the sick bastard alone.

With some doing, she'd even managed to set the stage for having her bow on her for an 'archery competition' she was going to attend afterwards.

Not that she felt she'd have been able to, given the way the man was looking at her from across the desk.

He rose slowly, walking past her and locking the door. "No interruptions. So, what can I help you with today?"

Lucky's grip tightened on her bow as he drew nearer, staying behind her.

"Perhaps you would like to ensure you pass my class? We can cut straight to the chase, Miss?"

"Call me Lucky."

"Mhmm... Yes... Well, I'm more than happy to work something out, if you catch my drift."

"I think I catch your drift perfectly," she said tensely. His vile hands touch her shoulders, rubbing them lightly.

"Then why don't we start simple, yes? Why don't you move closer to my desk?"

Lucky stood, but before he could react she had slammed her chair into his gut. He hissed, eyes narrowing. "You bitch, you'll regret that."

"No, I won't. I'm going to make you pay for every single victim you've mugged, killed, and defiled," came the angry reply.

He looked at the arrow pointing at his face for a moment before ran through the door, quite literally.

Lucky shook her head as he dropped outside the room, an arrow in his jugular.

"I hope it hurts, bleeding out with a body that can't move."

---

---

The sun shone brightly, illuminating the busy streets of Epic city, adding a much needed warmth to help get people moving. Starks living room fell short of this incandescent wonders reach, the drawn blinds doing a fine job of keeping his apartment a dark and cool cave, with James seated in his armchair, slouched into its comfortable hold. Dark to hide the sin and debauchery, safe from the revealing light and judgmental eyes. Was the stray thought of conscience that still swirled about the haze of his mind, he felt a strange pang of disappointment in himself, an old disapproval of his actions these past two weeks. With that in mind he stirred from his vegetative state, blinking the fog from his eyes as the world surrounding him came into focus, his ears twitched in response to the song playing on his sound system, one of the many forgotten tunes he kept on his iPod. Although he couldn't really relate to the lyrics it always had a strange way of drawing out his melancholy, he rose from his seat unsteadily, clutching his forehead as his world surged violently in front of him.

"Fuck me.." He groaned painfully, feeling out with his free hand for something to act as a crutch, hastily slapping a hand on a nearby table as he stumbled. He took a moment to recover, quietly observing and reflecting on the scene before him. Strangers of all kinds were laid out around his apartment, as dead to the world as he was moments before, Boost somewhere among them.

He gave the sleeping body a quick jab in the ribs with his toe, having found him passed out spooning a pizza box, Boost moaned in reply hugging the box closer. James squinted in frustration, but promptly let him be, taking great effort to work his way past other awkwardly positioned people to his room. Thin streams of light illuminated this single room in his whole apartment, the soft light casting a benevolent glow upon it that set it apart from that behind him. James felt his brow knit into a frown at the sight of a figure shrouded by a white sheet laying upon his bed, but took a moment to watch the small movements of the person beneath, the gentle rising and falling of their chest as they breathed matched perfectly with the serenity of the moment and James decided to let them be, quietly closing the door behind him he tiptoed as stealthily as he could to the en suite.

Once safely inside, James locked the door and made his way to the mirror, leaning heavily upon the sink he stared blankly into the darkness of the drain. He briefly regained awareness, his body shaking momentarily with the realization that he had just been zoning out, his hand acted on memory and shot out, turning on the water. He cupped both his hands, holding them beneath the flow til water cascaded from their hold, whipping them up quickly to assail his face and revitalize himself with a shock. Issue was, he didn't feel revitalized, with a brief glance at the mirror, James saw tired eyes staring out from a disheveled, wet face. Blocking out the image as he dried himself off with a hand towel. Well, might as well enjoy a nice, warm shower. He thought to himself as he gazed back into the mirror, his eyes flickering down, drawn by a small crack in the glass that sat in the corner of the mirror, he gently ran a couple fingers over the fractured lines, feeling out the cobwebbed shape it left behind. Odd. Thought the High island dealt with this kind of shit. Mused James, or perhaps the big fella never gave a shit about the small stuff and James had never noticed the small breaks and tears of his own home before, with a shake of his head James shed the thought along with his clothes and hopped into the shower.

---

Four days after the attack by the giant, hammer wielding man reports started to flood the televisions again.

"....ongoing coverage of the sudden and violent attack by yet another unknown Epic...."

"...and as you can see on the screen from our live feed, the unknown Epic is crumbling cars without even touching them! I have to wonder what else they're capable of, and I can say I'm definitely not looking forward to finding out..."

"...reports first surfaced an hour ago of an unknown Epic walking down East Main Street wearing what appears to be an Oni mask..."

"...this reporter personally believes that the suit the new Epic is wearing is a clear indicator of ties to the recent attack just four days ago..."

And so the reports continued. Speculation running rampant, no one was entirely certain what was going on, where the Epic was going, or why they were causing wanton destruction.

---

The man continued ever forward, casually destroying vehicles, pavement, lights... Just about everything around him, adding the debris to an ever growing storm around himself, already large enough to almost completely obscure his figure.

"Here, little birdie! Where are you hiding? We've come to collect on your debt..." The man's voice sounded out mockingly. "Oh where, oh where, oh where has my little bird gone? Oh where, oh where can he be?"

Finch

The aforementioned bird themed criminal found out the news when he was busy shopping, as the radio switched to emergency reports of the attack ongoing rather than the music that it had been playing before. He couldn't really blame them for that, breaking news was important after all.

"Persistent aren't they," he muttered to himself as he walked up to the register, where a small television gave some picture of what was going on. If it was related then these guys really did not get a hint did they? If they were going against the High again, or whatever.

Then his day got a whole lot worse. It came in over the audio from the attack, via whomever was just crazy enough to actually get close to the guy, and he had to do his best to keep from paling a bit. "Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered to himself. There was no way that guy was talking about him, right? Yet there were too many details for it to be a coincidence, and he felt a growing sensation in the pit of his stomach that indicated he was in for a bad time. On the one hand, if he didn't listen and these guys found him, the guy who could disintegrate everything around him probably wouldn't be merciful. On the other hand, actually answering would put him squarely on the High's radar, and as anyone could tell you that was the bad sort of place to be.

Well, he was quite clearly coerced right? Besides, one could make the case that what he did didn't actually matter, since if they knew that this would happen then the High would have prevented it. He couldn't claim to understand the thoughts of the almighty that ruled here, but there were some things that he did know.

After a few moments of thought he turned around, and began to put away the groceries that he had been prepared to buy. Something told him that those were not going to last through the trip.

---

It took him a bit to get to where the man was, but he was very direct in doing so once he had donned his outfit. Stepping into sight, he walked to about the edge of where the destructive bubble was while holding a dagger made of glass in his left hand. "I can see you're the original type," he called out to try and make himself heard over the debris. "Why don't you add some tweeting while you're at it?"

Clearly he was here though, and he waited cautious for some idea of what he was supposed to do to pay off this debt to his mysterious friends. What could he do that they needed him for? He'd find out soon, he supposed.

@Old Amsterdam

---

The man appeared to cross his arms, though it was difficult to tell through all the flying debris.

"I am no songbird, Finch. I am unable to tweet, though I'd be happy to discover if you can," he replied with a laugh. "So, I'll cut directly to the chase. I'm here to, for lack of a better term, recruit you as payment for services rendered. We know what makes you tick and tock, and while threat of harm would do wonders I'm sure... Well, I also happen to know you're looking for recognition. And we can give you that, and so much more. You can have a place in the new order, the new world if you will."

The debris cloud formed into a giant open hand, an obvious symbol of there ever was.

'It's happening. Whatever it is, it's happening.'

Those words woke Guilt up from her light sleep. Had it happened so soon? It had only been 18 days since her meeting with the High Island, so she should have 3 days left. Had the High Island's prediction been wrong? Was Traveller wrong? Or was this only the beginning of an even larger event? All of these thoughts raced through Guilt's head as she shot out of bed and rapidly moved across the globe. She was able to move from continent to continent in less than 5 minutes, and yet that still seemed like far too long. When she did return to Epic City what would she find? Would everything be on fire? Would an army of monstrous Freaks be invading? Would the High be crushing innocents? With how vague the Island had been, nothing was impossible. And thus there was no limit to the amount of ridiculous scenarios that her subconscious was able to conjure up.

Arriving, Guilt realized to her relief that things were not on fire, at least. And there didn't seem to be an army at the gate. All good things, of course, but Traveller would not have called without reason. So Guilt moved across the city's rooftops in her usual pattern, checking high and low for signs of danger. It didn't take long before she found it.

In this case, 'it', was an angry fellow covered in a dust cloud. An Epic or Freak, clearly. Hard to distinguish features with the cloud of debris around him. However it was clear from the power he displayed, as well as probing with Void, that this was a powered individual. That cloud wasn't the result of some advanced technology. Going on a rampage through the city like this, it seemed this villain cared little for the lives of innocents. Nor did he seem worried about retribution from the High. An attitude rare in Epic City, where anyone the High considered a nuisance was swatted like a bug.

So was this the 'it' that Traveller had called about? Certainly this couldn't be all. He certainly looked dangerous, but a single powered individual going on a rampage... even if they had been too powerful for Guilt to handle, the High would have no trouble with something as small as this. Nothing about this situation seemed like something the Island would be worried about. That meant that either Traveller was referring to something else.... or there was something here she was missing. Was it possible that this powered individual was far stronger than they seemed to be? Regardless such a rampage couldn't be tolerated, and if the High weren't going to stop it then the responsibility to do so would fall on her. Whatever she was missing, she'd have to face it in a moment anyway.

But before Guilt could make her move, a new person entered the scene. Guilt had never confronted Finch, but she did recognize him. Wasn't that the minor criminal who'd performed that abduction not long ago? He'd gotten completely ignored because of that incident with the hammer-man, but still. What was scum like that doing here?

Wait. Did the criminal and this new threat know each other? Clearly there was a connection there. An offer was being made. Hpmh. This kind of skulduggery would not be allowed in her presence.

"The only 'New World' either of you are likely to see... is the afterlife." With a flash of purple light and a sound like the crack of thunder, Guilt appeared in between Finch and the strange new menace. She kept an eye on the strange new menace, but several motion sensors had been placed near Finch as well. He might only be a low-level criminal, but even a weak attack could kill her if she wasn't watching it. "Of course, if you cooperate, you may be allowed to explore the confines of a prison cell first." This was unusually cheesy for her. Maybe it was Maya's influence, with her childish ideas of being a 'superhero'. Oh well. Even Guilt was willing to indulge such schlock once in a while. And it didn't make her statements any less true. If this person gave her the information she desired, then she would be happy to leave them their lives. Leave the Island to come up with some way to contain this guy.

"Of course, we could also do this the 'hard way' if you want." Now that she had shown the 'carrot', it was important to show the 'stick'. No criminal was going to surrender if they didn't fear her. As such, Guilt had grenades appear in a large circle around both Finch and the new threat. Luckily the pins were still firmly in place, but it would be easy for Guilt to change that. "Surrender immediately, or be executed."

Location: Ellis Island
Name: Kelfin WraithLord
Current objective: Find the telepath...

"Now there's a fellow people found creepy. Most freaks know the story, but few knew about his part. -coughs- He always was looking for something, whether it be knowledge or power, he wanted it. However, there was a exception. A single exception. It was known in the early days of his hunt to those who asked as 'The Telepath', a strong epic. No one but him knew who he was referencing however..."

THE WRAITHLORD...that's what I call myself. I always was very unoriginal, though that might be my lack of effort. With the epics and 'normies' running a muck, the job I was given was slightly harder. As I watched from my home on Ellis Island, Manhattan didn't look to good, especially with the monsters running around. Got to start somewhere though...

Since I'm basically just a ghost in a metal body, water wasn't an issue. Nor was trekking through it. The hard part was getting on land and without anything major noticing me. I found a suitable place, the only thing that sees me is a normal bum. He is running now. -laughs cruelly out loud- I'm starting to lose my humanity I think. Most epics and freaks seem to, my guess is power tainting the mind, but who knows? It takes a lot of focus normally to talk sense out loud, but now it doesn't matter. Time to continue the manhunt for the telepath. I should start with some contacts or eavesdropping on epic conversations.

"Tdhis illt tyka vhilr"
-this will take a while-

[T H E N]

---

One minute, he'd literally been about to punch out what some people would consider a demigod, and the next minute he was awake in his car, unable to move, getting to watch in horror as his laptop was annihilated. It might seem superficial, of course, but his entire life was based around that laptop. He made music, connected musical peripheries, communicated with most of his friends...without the laptop, he was nothing, a no one with no talent and no network. It was a self-centered vision of horror, but if the shoe fit...

Next he'd seen his parents shot down by the Triads. Literally the Chinese Triads murdering his family. In hindsight, it was a far more disturbing thought that losing his laptop, and David had to admit that, for all his parents' disapproval, he still loved them and cared for them.

The last memory-vision was the worst. He was Phantom, but he could no longer interact with the world. He couldn't wake up, couldn't speak to anyone, couldn't touch anything. He watched as his newfound friends discovered his lifeless, non-breathing body, how they crumpled as they failed to wake him. He saw his parents devastated, whispering prayers and regrets to at his funeral. He couldn't tell them that he heard them, and forgave them. He could only drift aimlessly, desperately, trying in vain for eternity to communicate with a world which had forgotten him.

That had been the worst of them all. There were more images, but those were the only three he remembered clearly. The rest had faded like bad dreams. The worst of it was that he had no idea where these visions were coming from. He knew somehow that they weren't real, but his mind kept refusing to accept that. He felt the pain of each one as if he were living it.

So when he finally awoke, a real, physical body in his parent's home, he nearly cried in relief. “妈妈！” he called. “[Mama！]” he repeated, when there was no answer.

His mother rushed into the room with a steaming cup of Oolong tea. “小卫！哦，大卫！我很担心了！” She set down the cup with shaking hands and put warm hands on his cheeks as if checking for fever. :[Oh, you poor boy. Can you drink this?]" She offered to him the cup, from which he drank deeply. He drained the whole cup far faster than he had intended to.

After a moment of silence, he asked, "妈妈，爸爸在哪儿？"

His mother glanced toward the door. "[Your father went to fetch an herbalist. You had a bad fever, 小卫。 We were so worried--]"

"Herbalist?" David said in English. "Mom, please!" he began to stand. "I don't need--"

“你坐下！” his mother commanded. He listened to her without meaning to, sitting back down meekly. "[No calls, no texts, for months, and then this? Who was the man that brought you here? Where did you find such a tall and threatening man? If he is your gangleader then I--"

"[I'm not in a gang, mom!]" David hissed. Was she serious? A gang? Ernie had probably just dropped him off. "[He is a friend! We make music together!]"

"[David, you cannot be getting involved with these men. Your father and I did not spend so much of our time pushing you for you to spiral out of control like this. If you are going to quit at ever finding success, then at least do not fall into the dark alleyways and shake your grandmother down for loose--]"

"[I'm NOT in a GANG!]" he said again, shouting this time. "[That man's name is Ernie, and he plays the piano! We are trying to make an album together, not that I've ever had any support of that from you or baba!]"

His mother raised herself to her full height, but that was hardly anything at all. "[Maybe if you learned to play the piano when we tried to start you on it you would not need to meet with this Ernie in the first place!]"

"Oh, forgive me for ONLY learning the violin!" David rose, this time ignoring his mother's demands that he sit. "[It's a miracle I haven't snapped and murdered anyone yet, with how much stress you always place me under! 再见妈妈！你告诉爸爸他的中医是狗屁！"

He stormed out of the house, stopping only to pull on a hoodie and shoes. He made it all the way down the stairs and six blocks away from the apartment before he realized what he'd done. Hadn't he just had a vision about losing his parents entirely?

But it was too late now. Going back there was suicide. He pulled up his hood and stalked away.

[N O W]

---

Ever since that utter failure at apprehending the Finch guy, and the argument David had been in a black mood. The others in the apartment were equally subdued, having all apparently been subjected to their worst nightmares as well. Maria and Hannah were doing what they could, but the others were as shaken as David had been.

The mayor was okay, thankfully. If he'd been lost, they all might have fallen apart entirely. Instead, they simply had to buck up and soldier on. That was proving to be easier said than done.

Every day since then, David had roamed the streets as Phantom. Whatever had pushed him from the skies had been a one time thing, and ever since then he'd had no trouble with dreams or waking up unexpectedly. Which was how he found Finch the second time.

He was roaming when the debris-wielding Epic appeared. He saw the loose tornado of chaos moving casually through the street, and he'd been tracking it when Finch appeared. David felt his pulse begin to race, except it wasn't, because he had no pulse.

"Gotcha this time, you bitch," hissed Phantom, and he dove down toward the petty criminal just in time to see a ring of grenades appear around Finch, the debris guy, and some third weirdo in a mask. Didn't. Fucking. Matter.

David coated himself with his telekinetic energy, planning to tackle the shit out of Finch. Dickleweed wouldn't get away this time.

---

The figure laughed. "An unexpected surprise. Here we've got Barbie Goes Chemical Warfare, adorned with her signature dick repelling mask. Watch out, she might bite! Oh wait, she can't."

The swarm around him increased in speed, obscuring the man completely as large chunks of buildings joined the field.

At the same moment Finch was lifted off of the ground and pulled into the swarm, not a single thing touching him, just as Phantom went whooshing past.

In the next instant the grenades all lifted off of the ground and started circling Guilt.

"Now doll, why don't you go find Ken and let the real people talk business, yeah? Now run along."

The Oni masked man turned towards Finch, who could now see the black suit and white tie the man wore, just like the giant man had. "Needless to say, if you refuse I'll be leaving you with Angry Angie out there. Everything you've ever worked for, ever wanted, will be for nothing. Your hopes, dreams, and goals will be naught. Your legacy will be a piss stain on a hobo's newspaper, if you're lucky."

If Phantom attempted to fly through the swarm in his current state he'd find it incredibly energy consuming, and he'd have decide if a direct approach like that was worth it.

Meanwhile, at the slightest movement from Guilt or tug of a grenade, and the rest would explode around her in a random order.