“I would have gotten the ransom money from the city if it weren’t for you meddling heroes!” El Niño clamored while he hung upside down, suspended from several threads of spider silk that were first wrapped around his body and then slung over a nearby light post. No matter how much he struggled, he could not break free from the biological bounds that constrained him.

“I know everyone dreams of a white Christmas, but plunging a city into negative double digit temperatures is just ridiculous,” I asserted while I secured the opposite end of the web strand that was suspending El Niño. Since the weather-controlling villain had made it unusually cold for a Southern Californian city, I mused that it might take longer than usually for my spider silk to dissolve, although that was not necessarily a bad thing. Plus, the police can always cut him down if need be.

“I’m not quite convinced about his motivation,” Talus accused the winter-themed villain while slapping on a power nullifier onto El Niño. “I think it actually is more nefarious, like wanting to see how this subzero weather would affect Pacific Point’s resident blonde bombshell.”

“Talus…”

“Nope. I definitely was in it totally for the money.” El Niño said in a matter of fact way.

“Well, at least I know someone who would appreciate those frozen puppies. Say ‘cheese,’ Vol!”

“Don’t you freaking dare…” I instinctively threw my hand up in front of myself, just as if I was trying to block a camera from taking a picture of me. However, I soon realized that I did not know how Talus was taking this picture. Were his eyes the lenses? Since it was pretty much a futile task to figure out from where else on his body he could possibly be taking that picture, I decided to stick with my first instinct.

Talus. How many times have we told you to not mess with people’s electronics without their permission? The Son of Osiris communicated via telepathy.

“It’s only her S.O.!” Talus tried to defend his actions, but everyone knew he was in the wrong. He even probably knew it, too.

“You guys can handle the clean-up, right?” I changed the subject. “I had other plans for tonight before they were rudely interrupted.”

We can watch him until the police arrives, the Son of Osiris replied, although I only heard his voice in my head. He then extended his arm out, holding his staff vertically. The ankh on the top of his staff began to glow blue. A beam of light shot out from the ankh and formed a swirling blue portal.

Once I stepped through the portal, I found myself standing in the warmth of my bedroom. Since I was off the job, so to speak, I didn’t need to be wearing my superhero costume anymore. Once I activated my power-nullifier, while I regained my human physique, my red and gray threads were swapped out with the pair of jeans and a green long-sleeved shirt that I had been wearing before I had to leave to stop El Niño with the other Immortals. My long-sleeved shirt had a picture of Santa’s portrait printed on it, along with ‘Ho, ho, ho’ and ‘Merry Christmas’ written on it in red letters with a white outline.

Will was sitting on my couch in the next room, where I had left him when duty called. We had the television tuned to a station that was playing Christmas music around the clock. Before I left to beat up the villain who was trying to plunge Pacific Point into an ice age, the two of us had just finished unwrapping the presents that we had bought for each other. Tomorrow, we’re both flying home for the holidays and since we wouldn’t see each other on Christmas, we wanted to exchange gifts before we parted ways.

Even though I’m still miffed by Marvel blatantly ripped off my appearance for their current run on Spider-Gwen, especially after they sent me a cease and desist to me for the original costume that Athena had provided me, I didn’t allow this get in the way of our Christmas. Since I knew that Will would not buy it for himself because he knew my opinion of the character, I thought getting him a driderified Spider-Gwen action figure would be a neat gift. And sure enough, when I got back, he had already broke it out of its packaging.

“Back,” I told him after I leaned over the back of the couch and wrapped my arms over his shoulders. Will, now noticing my presence, tried to set the figure down on the coffee table in front of him.

“Hey, that gift wasn’t intended to get you into the dog house,” I assured my boyfriend that I wasn’t jealous of a fictional character, even if she’s encroaching on my style.

“You might want to tell Talus to stop messing with the backgrounds of my devices,” Will said in an attempt to change the topic of our conversation.

“We just had that talk.”

“This time it was quite tame, but he has done worse in the past,” Will complained to me, “I was just lucky that one time when he set my background on the grad office computer as your centerfold picture that no one else was in the office.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll knock some sense into him once I get back from Ohio.”

“So, should we deck your tree out with the tinsel we made before heading to bed? We both have an early morning tomorrow.”

“It really sucks that our plans were ruined by some C-list villain.”

Will hopped up from his seat on the couch and we proceeded to get the tinsel from where we had set it out to dry. I never knew this, but apparently one explanation for tinsel on Christmas trees is that a spider apparently spun a web on a poor family’s tree and the power of Christmas (or Jesus) transmuted the silk into silver. Since I have spider powers, we thought it could be a neat Christmas tradition. We prepared some of my spider silk in the same way one would preserve a spider’s web and spray painted it with silver paint. This at least was our consolation prize for having our evening interrupted by supervillainy. Once we wrapped the tree with the treated spider silk, the lights on my tree made the webbing sparkle. To finish our trimming of the tree, Will pulled out the ‘First Christmas Together’ ornament that we picked out together and hung it at the center of evergreen.

“That worked better than I expected.”

“It was a team effort.”

We then admired our handiwork for a few more minutes before we had to turn in for the night. As Will had already mentioned, both of our flights were scheduled for an early morning departure. Even if we were to head to bed right now, we would still only get a few hours of sleep.

“How about we change into those pajamas that your mom bought for us?”

“You really want to wear the matching set that my mom picked out?”

“I think it will be cute. Plus, no one except for the two of us will see them.” It was a tradition in Will’s family to receive a new set of PJ’s on every Christmas eve. However, since I was not going to be around on Christmas, she gave them to us early.

“Alright.” Will yielded as he handed me the box that his mother had wrapped my pajama set in.

“I’ll see you in a few.” I planted a kiss on Will’s cheek and then turned to go into my bedroom.

After I shut my bedroom’s door, I set the box on my bed and remove its lid. Inside, there was a red long-sleeved shirt along with a pair of green flannel pajama pants. Very Christmasy, if I say so myself. I pulled out the red shirt out of the box and left the pants alone. Then, I pulled out a second clothing box from underneath my bed, which contained one last present for Will, if you would like to call it that. After I had started to undress, I slipped into the red basque that had been hidden in the box I had retrieved from under my bed. I was a little surprised that it took a little more work to get the basque on than I expected. Next, I pulled off my power nullifier, reverting my appearance to its drider form, and I began dressing my arachnid legs with four pairs of green socks that were designed for my arachnid physique.

“Coming in,” Will alerted me after he knocked on my door.

“Give me one moment , please,” I requested as I tried to finish getting all eight socks onto my spider legs and fasten them with the garter bands on my basque. I even had to use my spider legs to get the last pair of socks on my hind legs. Once that was done, I threw on the long-sleeved pajama shirt. Before I reclined on my bed, I used my spider silk to stick a branch of artificial mistletoe right above my bed.

“You can come in!” I hollered to Will. While I waited for him to open the door, I laid down on my bed. Although the underside of my arachnid abdomen rested on my bed, I contorted my waist so that my elbow was propping my upper body up. My four spider legs, now covered with long, green socks, touched the floor beside my bed, while the right four rested on my mattress.

When Will entered my bedroom, he stopped dead in his tracks right at the threshold of my bedroom door when he caught sight of me, definitely because I was not wearing the complete pajama set.

“I guess we’re not getting much sleep tonight.”

“Who ever gets a wink of sleep on Christmas?”

Six Months ago, Christmas Eve

For the residents of the Williamston Crossing apartment building in Little Ulster, it had been a hard few days. After a devastating fire had burned the building to the ground, the people who had called the building home were left homeless, having lost everything. Many of the residents were given temporary accommodations in the basement of St. Michael’s Church, in the “classrooms” that the church held Sunday School for the parishioners’ children. In all, twenty two families were now homeless, just in time for the holidays.

In the wake of the fire, the community really came together for the victims. The entire neighborhood put together a clothing drive for the victims and even on such short notice, they were able to get sponsors to get toys and other gifts for the families, so that the children would have something to open on Christmas morning, so that even in such a difficult time, not only the children, but each member of every family affected would have some small sense of normalcy.

Bags and bags of toys and other goods had been put together in just under three days’ time. Even the organizers were shocked by the outpouring of support for these families. It just showed, that even with all of its troubles, the people of Lost Haven were special. They truly had come together and because of the selflessness of so many people, these families would still have a Christmas.
However, now all that planning and goodwill might be for naught. A winter nor’easter had made the roads nearly impassable, and thus, the delivery of the goods all but impossible.

A dejected Nick Spencer sat in makeshift office in the abandoned storefront which made up the local chapter of Angels & Elves, regional charity which oversaw the acquisition and distribution of toys for low income families, and an organization that had taken point on the sudden drive of gifts for the Williamston Crossing families. He had gone above and beyond to ensure that the displaced children would have gifts to open on Christmas morning, yet mother nature herself had decided to stand in the way of that goal. The delivery drivers that had volunteered to bring the items to St. Michael’s were unable to do so because the road conditions were so bad due to the 18 inches of snow that had fallen in only half a day.

"Let me know how I can help.” a voice came from behind him. It was a voice that was somewhat familiar to Nick, though he couldn’t quite place it.

“Unless you can get all this stuff to St. Michael’s, there really isn’t much you can do.” Nick said dolefully as he turned to face the newcomer, only to have his jaw hit the floor when he saw who stood before him. It wasn’t just anyone who had wandered into his office. In fact, he may have been looking into the eyes of the very solution to his problem. “Icon?” he said in disbelief.

“I think I might be able to help with that.” Icon said as he took the first of the bags, and like a blue and silver clad Santa Claus, hung it over his shoulder before grabbing a second bag and doing the same. Then with a nod and a smile, went out the front door and took to the skies, repeating the trip several times until all the gifts had been delivered to St. Michael’s, and thus saving Christmas for the very people who needed it the most.

Little Courtney Wilson sat on the kneelers as if they were a kiddie chair while she scribbled in her “Disney Princess” coloring book with her crayons. Once she had finished her coloring job on an entire page, she picked up the book with two hands and showed it to her mother.

“Do you like it, mommy?”

“It’s beautiful,” Kelly told her toddler while their family of three waited for their church’s Christmas eve service to begin. Once her daughter had received her approval, the young girl turned the page and started to color the now blank canvas.

“Mommy, can I sit next to Aunt Sammy when she gets here?”

“Sure. She should be here in a few minutes.”

At the moment, Courtney was seated between Kelly and Zac, so that they might keep an eye on her. The church choir was warming up prior to the beginning of the surface, which provided a little entertainment while people trickled into the church. The church itself had been already decked with garland and a few plain Christmas trees as festive decorations.

“Time sure has flown by.” Zac told his wife, since it seemed as if it was just yesterday that they got married. Now they had a little one to look after. And before either of them knew it, she would be all grown up in a blink of an eye.

“I know,” Kelly agreed with her husband, “It seems like everyone is settling down. We had Courtney. Aubrey had Kristen and Ryan. Kyle and…”

“Wait, when did Aubrey have a second kid? I don’t remember her being pregnant.” Zac interrupted his wife in mid-sentence with his realization.

“I don’t either, but I know for sure she has two kids. Want me to text her?”

“It doesn’t matter to me. I’m not dying to know.”

Nevertheless, despite Zac’s answer, Kelly pulled out her cell phone and sent a quick text to Aubrey. Meanwhile, Courtney had pealed her eyes away from her coloring book for long enough to catch sight of someone entering the church.

“Mommy! Aunt Sammy is here!” Courtney pointed to her mother, who immediately dropped her phone back into her purse before standing up to greet her best friend.

“Merry Christmas!” Kelly greeted Sammy before giving her a hug. “I see you won’t be carrying a bun in the oven for much longer.”

“I’m expecting any week now.” Sammy told Kelly with a smile while placing a hand on her pregnant stomach.

“Great. Now we can have a reenactment of the nativity. I’m sure that would spice up this service.”

“Hey! Be nice. It’s Christmas after all!”

“We have you here, just in case. So just in case Sammy goes into labor, you’ll be there to deliver baby Jesus.”

Meanwhile, Courtney pushed past her parents and started to tug on Sammy’s dress.

“Aunt Sammy, can I sit by you? Mommy said it was okay!”

“Sure!” Sammy replied. Then, she slowly took a seat on the pew next to her best friend’s child. Courtney, in turn, returned to her coloring book. However, Sammy drew her attention again when she dangled her cat tail in front of Courtney. Whenever the little girl reached out for the tail, Sammy would draw it out of the girl’s reach.

“My water isn’t going to break tonight. So just relax.” Sammy told both Kelly and Zac. Since she was momentarily distracted by talking with her friends, she did not react quick enough to move her tail away from Courtney, who immediately snatched it.

“She’s getting good at that,” Sammy said with a laugh while she pulled her tail out of Courtney’s hand.

“I’ve always wondered if she’ll ever develop any powers.” Kelly whispered to Zac and Sammy, although the noise of other people’s conversations drowned out her voice from being heard by anyone except Zac and Sammy.

“Maybe she’ll take after her father.”

“That’s weird. My little Kyle has cat ears in the ultra-sound images.”

“Maybe she will be normal. Not that would be a bad thing.”

“Or she might not have yet developed them yet. Maybe once she becomes a teenager.”

“Don’t mention her growing up already. Next, we’re going to have to worry about how we’ll pay for college!”

Suddenly, Kelly’s phone buzzed. When she pulled it out from her purse, Kelly realized that Aubrey had responded to her recent inquiry. She had sent a nice little family picture for Kelly to show off to Zac and Sammy. Aubrey and Will sat on both sides of their eldest daughter, Kristin, who was about the same age as Courtney. Furthermore, Aubrey held in her arms an infant swaddled in a Christmas-themed blanket.

“Look how cute they look!”

“Oh my, look how young Aubrey looks! She looks like as if she had not aged a day since we first met her in West Virginia!” Sammy interjected after she got a glance of the image.

“Doesn’t she have a healing factor or something?”

“In a few years, people will start thinking she’s his trophy wife!”

“Poor Kristin. One day, people will confuse her mother as her sister!” Sammy said.

Before the three friends could continue their conversation, the church choir began singing the service’s entrance song. The whole congregation stood up in unison as the pastor made his way up to the front of the church and joined the choir in singing O Come, All Ye Faithful, a staple of the Christmas season. Before the song was over, Kelly made sure to send another text to Aubrey to ask about meeting sometime, since she had not seen the three of them in ages! While the Christmas season was a busy time, that does not mean that they did not have some room in their schedules to have a reunion something during the year.

Katarina picked up the scent of the new arrivals long before they began their attack. Human blood - such a warm, inviting scent, though she knew these were no ordinary humans - from the rumbling of the engines of their vehicles outside, they meant business. Katarina had had time to familiarise herself with the basics of American society whilst she was around Ben - movies, TV, et cetera. And she knew that humans of the modern day loved nothing more than one thing in a fight; the gun. The guns of today were rapid-firing, able to shoot many different types of bullet, and they were unerringly accurate, unlike the old muskets and flintlock pistols of her era. Kat had had a brush with one of those types prior to this engagement - during her breakout at the museum, when the two security guards attempted to stop her, firing their ineffectual bullets that simply rebounded off her mighty undead flesh. These chaps, though, weren't likely to be quite as easy to take down as the previous types. She could hear their rapid, frantic breathing, their hearts pounding in their chests - hell, she could even hear their blood coursing through their bodies. And so it was, when they gave the order to commence the assault, Katarina was ready. Before even the first grenade had smashed through a window, Katarina had dived for cover behind a nearby aisle, expecting her world to light up before her in a cloud of flame and smoke. She got one, but not much of the other. "Rauchgranaten!" she yelled as the sound of smashing windows and the staccato bark of semi-automatic assault rifle fire filled the air, with clouds of acrid smoke quickly expanding and smothering every corner of the shop. The screams of the poor wretched humans as these new interlopers fired at them - Katarina noted it was at them, not over their heads - quickly drowned out even the deafening shouts and shrieks of rage and surprise that the rest of their group had met this assault with.

Katarina, in contrast, met this attack with icy stoicism. She knew that the largest concentration of the interlopers were at the front of the shop, and likely would have very poor knowledge of where she was - unless they had that strange green vision she'd watched on TV - in the dark back of the shop. Which meant that she had the advantage over them, especially whichever poor untermenschen thought it was a good idea to try and flank them and attack the group from the rear - where she was. She noticed that one of the wolves had taken a bullet already in the immediate volley of fire that had greeted their own response. Don't shout and scream, for God's sake, they'll know where you are! she thought, clenching her teeth in frustration and pent-up rage. And then, she noticed two of the blood signatures were moving towards the rear of the grocery shop. Exactly as she thought - their mission was to surround them, block off any chance of escape, and add to the confusion inside. Kat shoved several of the panicked shoppers to the ground, holding a finger to her lips. It was better for them, and for her, if they just stayed the fuck down. The two that she had earmarked were now close to the rear door... she could smell their fear, their anticipation... what she couldn't hear, however, was the 10 pounds of C4 explosive they had planted on the rear security door to blow it in. Nor could she hear the countdown of the explosives timer... which meant that five long, arduous seconds later, Kat had no idea of the force that was about to strike her.

The door exploded. Instead of it remaining in one piece however, the door splintered, fragments of razor-sharp steel shrapnel hurled everywhere at a frightening speed. The unfortunate shoppers stood no chance. One fragment of shrapnel sliced the head clean off of one shopper huddled next to Kat, bright crimson spraying all across the shoppers nearby, the products on the shelves, and of course, the blood-starved vampire that also just happened to be standing right beside them. Another piece of shrapnel embedded itself in a light fitting, sparks and crackling flying all about, adding yet more acrid smoke and bright lights to an already deafening cacophony of noise, and morass of sights, sounds and smells. Another shopper was disembowelled by another fragment of shrapnel, bloodied intestines spilling out from their sizeable stomach whilst another fountain of crimson liquid sprayed all across the tiled floor. The rear of the shop was quickly turning into a charnel pit. The gunmen at the rear door then followed up, not with staccato semi-automatic fire as they had done so before, but with long bursts of automatic gunfire, hosing down random shoppers with bullets. One fell to the ground next to Kat with a strangled, blood-choked cry of pain, chunks of flesh roughly torn from the person's back where the bullets had struck home.

These fuckers meant business. Unluckily for them, so did Kat.

She had escaped injury from the explosion's shrapnel, but she was still momentarily stunned from the shockwave. However, this she quickly shook off. She bared her fangs in rage, and leapt at the closest soldier, closing the distance in a fraction of a second, perhaps even too quickly for him to comprehend. Her fingernails were like talons, her blood-soaked clothes fuelling her furious assault with the iron-rich smell of humanity's greatest prize. The soldier buckled as she drove her elbow into his throat, collapsing to the ground, wracked with debilitating coughs. Crucially, his assault rifle was on the ground, not in his hands. The other soldier was a problem though. He had had time to turn his attention to her, and was about to raise his weapon to attack. "Stirb, Abschaum!" Though it was in German, the message was clear. She dashed over to him, but in the split fraction of a second it took for her muscles to tense and for her body to leap into action, the soldier was able to fire off a shot. The bullet impacted Kat directly on the right breast, a spear of agonising hot lead driven through her chest cavity. She was momentarily stopped by the force of the impact, but she couldn't halt her momentum, and she rammed into the second soldier with her shoulder, crushing his ribcage and flinging the soldier against the rear wall of the shop. The soldier's head impacted a split second later than his body, the head whipping back and cracking audibly against the wall, blood spattering across the painted plaster. Kat sank to her knees, gingerly feeling at her bullet wound... this one had actually hit her, it had actually penetrated her skin... They had some kind of anti-magic field protecting the area, which had rendered her unholy protection moot. But... it had not hindered her undead constitution, for no sooner had she probed the area of the bullet injury, than the wound began to close. She staggered back to her feet, stumbling over to the coughing soldier. His helmet had began to fill with blood - evidently the injury that he had sustained was slightly more... debilitating than Kat had given the man credit for. A fractured larynx. Not going to heal in seconds, unlike her injuries. She decided to exact revenge on this one.

She picked the soldier up by the legs. He began to flail around, his heartbeat rocketing as he panicked in sheer helplessness and fear. "N-No! P-Please, no!" he was able to stammer out of his helmet as Kat began to wrench the man's legs apart. And then, only then, did he realise what Kat was doing. A final, strangled plea for his miserable life escaped his lips.

Kat ignored him, and lifted him above her head, only to wrench his whole body in half. She began to laugh. And laugh. And laugh...

"Das leben ist gut, meine Freunde! Das leben ist gut!"

---

Rauchgranaten - smoke grenades
untermensch - scum, sub-human
Stirb, Abschaum - Die, scum
Das leben ist gut, meine Freunde - Life is good, my friends

Time: Christmas Day - Six Months Ago
Location: West Bronx, New York City

Christmas decorations were in every direction, snow had freshly fallen over the city much to everyone’s delight. The family had all eaten their weight in turkey, ham and dessert. Now they were all hanging about, talking, drinking, enjoying themselves. Every bit of extended family had arrived to New York City in one piece, aunts, uncles, cousins all to boot. Charlie’s aunt Josephine and her uncle Harold’s high rise apartment in Riverdale had plenty of room to accommodate every Croll. Josephine was actually Doctor Croll, a heart surgeon. While her husband, Harold had a job as a journalist at the New York Times. He came from a family of seers, able to see small glimpses into the past or future. Their son, whom Charlie was trying to avoid, was Charles. Her sole cousin the same age as her and her self-proclaimed ‘rival.’

Jules and Joe thought it was funny to name their first born children the feminine and masculine versions of the same name. Everyone got a kick out of it, save for Charlie. Sure their rivalry started off as fun, they always had each other to run around and cause trouble. Every occasion was met with excitement when they got the chance to spar. The competition became stiff as Charles won multiple scholarships, had a bright career path in medicine. While Charlie floundered with little to no ambition, let alone ideas to what she really wanted to do. She distanced herself.

With only a semester left in her graduating year, Charlie dodged the polite questions of “What are your plans after graduation?” at every turn. She settled to retreating away with half answers, drinking eggnog with her sister and her younger cousins. Some of the younger Croll’s were showing off their newly carved staves, while some of the older ones were brainstorming with them. A large majority of her aunts and uncles were exchanging notes, arguing over new ideas. While others explained their new modifications. Every Croll family gathering was to this similar effect, the flow of ideas and knowledge was readily exchanged. No one held back, there was a couple new faces of boyfriends and girlfriends looking rather intimidated for the first time meeting. So many names to remember, in a sea of scientists and alchemical minds. Quite naturally they were introduced to the magic side of it before attending but to the uninitiated, it was overwhelming.

Most the family married into magic in some form, whether it’s witches, alchemists, enchanters, seers, clairvoyants. Anyone with magical blood to keep the Croll line diverse and saturated. It brought with it professions outside of the scientific community.

Her uncle Maurice, an illustrations professor at the University of Manchester, had finally figured out how to transmute carbon dust into diamond, real solid diamond. Not it’s dusty equivalent. He was demonstrating to Nathaniel, Aunt Sam and unfortunately to Charles as well. Charlie wanted to badly watch on but again, Charles was right there. She’d see about getting notes from her gramps later.

Charlie poked at Harry who was scratching her head over helping their cousin Kerry, he found a crack in his new staff, “Tell Kerry he’s gonna want to add sodium first-”

Harry bumped her away, “I was gonna say that, go hang out with the adults Char. You’re being a bug.”

Charlie stood up with a huff, “Well fine then. Be that way.”

She stood up and nearly bumped into Charles himself. He was only an inch taller than her, bright brown eyes and long wavy blonde hair. Clear complexion, red dress shirt with black slacks and dress shoes. Opposite to her hoodie and mismatched socks. He had his staff in his one hand and bottle of beer in the other. He had a sycamore staff as well, their staves were cut from the same wood. “Charlene! Running off again?”

“Merry Christmas Charles, now I need a refill on the eggnog.” She sidestepped him and Charles moved in front of her again. The younger cousin’s ooh’d.

“I see no girlfriend again this year.” He commented nonchalantly tugging on one of her braids. “University can’t be that challenging over in Lost Haven to prevent you from finding a date. Jesus, Charlene. Figured you’d graduate early like everyone else.”

She scrunched her face up with a glare then faked left and went right around him, “Trying to egg me on while I’m getting eggnog. Real clever.”

“What about you Charles, no boyfriend?”

“He’s off in Vermont skiing with his family.” Charles supplied smoothly, letting her by. “‘Sides, you and I haven’t had a good sparring match since summer solstice barbeque.”

“I don’t want to spar with you Charles. I’m thirsty.” She said, jutting her jaw out not paying attention to her feet. He stuck out his staff in between her legs, tripping her face first into the floor splashing eggnog up the side of her face.

“Whoops.”

She stood up, alchemically removing the eggnog into the palm of her hand as solid cube. Calmly standing up she deposited it down the sink changing it back to liquid. With an angry grunt, “It’s not going to work Charles. Kindly, fuck off.”

“The Trash Can Croll too afraid to take me on after her bitter defeat at the barbeque? Come on, we’ll go up to the roof and fight it out. I know you want some redemption, I’ll go easy on you too.” Charles said with a grin, the name calling got a few laughs from the younger cousins, he took a long sip of beer. “Do you really want to say no in front of our family’s patron? Let our grandfather down?”

Nathaniel called out, among the few disinterested in the fight. He parroted Charlie’s words, “Fuck off Charles. If she says no, she means no.”

Charles shrugged at that, “She always has a choice, Grandpa.”

Josephine and Julianne had stopped their card game watching the exchange as well. The pair of sisters remained quiet.

Charlie dug deep finding some calm, finding a little resolve. Fighting him would make him shut up in the short term but it’d fuel the next fight for sure. She weighed her options, dodging him was more work, even if she lost she’d give him a black eye or a fat lip. “Nothing to be bitter about, but I will kick your ass tonight. One fight then you leave me the fuck alone and you quit bothering me.”

Jules slid some money discreetly to Joe at Charlie’s challenge.

The lot of aunts, uncles and cousins that wanted to see the fight bundled up and followed the two up to the roof. Charlie pulled on her boots fine with a hoodie. Harry was behind her whispering, “What was all that ranting about not wanting to fight Charles this year? C’mon Charlie this is stupid, you’re just beefing up his ego.”

“I’ll knock it down a few pegs.”

“Now that’s your ego talking.”

“Shut up will you? Everyone keeps bugging me about school or any measurable success. It’s getting on my nerves so I’m giving them something else to talk about.”

Harry shook her head, knowing full well she’d be hearing about how much she regretted the fight after Charlie asked her to help nurse her pride.

“Whatever.”

They squared off, Uncle Maurice a tall skinny bearded man volunteered to referee. “Alright, the first one to submit loses, or who loses their staff to their opponent also loses. No alchemy. Everyone understand?”

Charlie and Charles both nodded. Everyone knew the rules to a spar. They bent in different ways, settling for their own natural stances. Charlie shifted her center of balance for an offensive stance, while Charles took on a more defensive stance, he was expecting her to barrage him first. The ground was snow covered, sure to be slippery. Charlie counted her boots for better traction than dress shoes.

“Ready… Start!”

Charlie took off in a hard start. Swinging the butt of her staff around to his midsection, Charles deflected it with a grunt serving up his own attack above her head where she met the tip of his staff successfully blocking it. She pushed off from the force of the block creating space. They stepped around each other, warming up.

“So Trash Can Croll, what made you change your mind? We can always talk honestly here. No bullshit.” He said, eye contact steady while they moved.

“I figured a fat lip would shut you up.” She shot back then jolted forward for another set of attacks, blocking his reply in return. Their staves connected with snaps, clacking without much heat.

“I said, no bullshit.” Charles said rolling his staff in his hands. “It never takes much to get you into a fight. Trash Can Croll has a temper.”

Charlie glared, “Stop calling me that!” She delivered another set, seriously hoping to land a hit. “Why are you constantly on my back about everything?”

Charles deflected then he landed a hit on her thigh, it stung forcing her to back off. “Because for all this pride you have as a Croll you refuse to do anything with it!” The crowd of family around them muttered amongst themselves at that.

She snarled, “What the hell is that supposed to mean!”

Charles pointed with his staff, “Exactly what I said, Charlene. You know, not too long ago it used to be you egging me on to spar and fight.”

She launched into a new set, furiously throwing more attacks. Finally swiping his feet out from under him. Charles rolled away, getting snowy. “You’ve been ignoring me, distancing yourself away from me. We used to be partners in crime, then suddenly. Poof, you're suddenly a stranger.”

“Oh please-” She began then was hit again in the same spot, cheeky and making the sting worse.

“You were my first friend, for fuckssakes Charlie you taught me how to talk with the confidence of the slimiest lawyer in any courtroom drama. You were the one chasing off dickhead boyfriends. What happened?” He asked serious, his expression hurt.

She huffed, swiping at her nose with her sleeve. “I don’t know-”

He roared, “More bullshit!” He forced her to deflect more blows, forcing more space than she was willing to give.

She found some traction at last putting her weight against his, “I was going to say, you fucking interrupting bulldozer, that I don’t know what I want to do. I’m getting my masters in chemistry but fuck if I know what I want to do after that. Everyone, including you, expects me to know and I don’t. I’m happy dumpster diving, I’m happy working in the shop or grinding at hours of being a lame lab assistant. Okay? That good enough answer for you?”

"Are you really just okay with that?"

"No, but I'm figuring it out."

Charles relented slightly, Charlie took the opportunity to take a shot at his hand. Landing the hit successfully she slapped his staff out of his hands. He yelped. They both dived for it wrestling. Their grunts turned to laughter, relenting from the serious turn in their sparring. Charlie snatched away the staff standing back up, holding it up, “HA!”

Charles huffed holding his hands close to his chest trying to warm them up. Maurice called the match in her favour.

“Fair and square.” Charles said, Charlie offered a hand for him up. She gave him a hug.

“Sorry for being an idiot. The pressure sucks, I felt like you were the one mounting it with every new thing you succeeded at.” She said patting his arm, he grinned then pulled her into a headlock.

“Yeah, I guess digging around in a dumpster enough could bring your IQ down a bit.” He laughed.

Charlie elbowed him and they started wrestling anew. Their family laughed along with them, relieved the tension was aired and dissipated. Joe discreetly passed money back to Jules, whatever they bet on not quite clear.

Across the street shrouded by a cloak, a figure watched on, carefully staying hidden. Close enough to hear and watch the two young Crolls spar, he shuffled his scarf up closer to his face. Satisfied with what he saw he backed away meaning to move on. He held his hand up, dark dust particles moved at his will appearing from the multiple pockets across his person. In his hand a dark solid staff took shape, when the transmutation was complete the dark sheen fell away to reveal the clear form of solid diamond.

He leaned into the staff walking away, a gentle smile across dry cracked lips.

“Fröhliche Weihnachten.” Oswald Croll murmured.

Location: A happy house
Time: Christmas night

David wasn’t born in Lost Haven, nor had he grown up in it. Objectively it was a terrible place to live, every other day featured some kind of meta human brawl somewhere, he would know, but it was also the best place on Earth for him to live, because it was in Lost Haven itself that David had met the love of his life, and today they were celebrating with as many friends and family as they could. Some managed to fly in, some just happened to be here, and some were born here.

The entire house was a glow with happy spirits and joyful chatter, old friends catching up with each other, and meeting some new ones. David’s wife, Cecilia, was off in another corner talking to some of her own friends. His daughter, Madeline, also managed to find people roughly her age and they were happily chatting about something. David was worried she wouldn’t have too much fun as he wasn’t sure who was going to make it, but he was glad things turned out for the better.

At first David had thoughts about patrolling the area, just a little bit, to make sure it really was a silent night, but it felt so peaceful that David gave into his selfish side. If there was trouble he’d entrust the other heroes, and maybe even villains, to keep a lid on the chaos tonight. Nobody deserves to spend their Christmas alone or unappreciated. And that’s just what David told himself as he made another pass at the food table, shoving in as much meat as he could. Even getting a little fat wouldn’t affect his super heroics, much.

Just another happy coincidence. David thought with a grin as he packed in his next plate tightly.

Out of all his friends only a few had managed to come by, fellow archeologist Carmine Williams being one of them, but he seemed to be just a little down as he watched everyone. So that was when David decided to walk up to him.

“Thanks for inviting me, David. I’d have been pretty lonely this year if I didn’t know about this.”

“Hhmm, didn’t feel like holding a party of your own, nobody special?”

“When you say it like that it feels like I’ve been doing it wrong.” Carmine replied, he gave a fake tug at his collar like it suddenly tightened.

“Seeing you with Cecilia makes me a little jealous, I’ll never win big like you.”

“Aww, cheer up pal.” David picked up a bottle and began to poor a generous amount into Carmine’s glass, after which he dipped his head back with the glass, draining it in one go.

“Hmm, well now I’m feeling a little brave tonight.” Carmine said as he pointed to a certain someone in the room.

“Ah, I see you’ve been eyeing her for a while right? You should go for it, you’re an adult now, take the risks you never would have back in high school.” David said with a powerful smirk overtaking his face.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Although I’m a little hesitant, her face just seems, a little familiar.”

“It should, her name’s Erin, but you might know her as..” David paused to put a firm hand on Carmine’s back.

“Eric.” David whispered into his ear, and then pushed him into the Christmas party crowd.

“What?” Carmine shouted as he was jerked forward

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

Carmine had arrived with a slight frown and now he was leaving happy, David was glad Carmine was leaving in a good mood, he even managed to find a couple of his old friends. David waved off everyone leaving, it was good seeing them, and hopefully some would stick around in Lost Haven for a while. It was just after sunset now and they still had sometime before ‘Santa’ came, and Maddie had to go to bed, so they spent the next hour or so watching a Christmas marathon.

They’d just finished watching Rudolph when Madeline began to say something. “I wonder what it’d be like to fly, I mean riding in a sleigh sounds fun, but I want to be in control, like Rudolph!”

“Hmmm, I wonder.” David said, making a show of tapping his finger on his chin, he and Cecilia looked at each other with a smile. David spent a few months going at it alone, making sure only he knew his secret that the Earth had given him a gift, but women were smart in a devilishly sneaky way and Cecilia had found out somehow anyways. And eventually Madeline too, she was so much smarter than him and it made him so proud, although he was a little embarrassed that his secret vanished so quickly, and he thought he had it easy not having to hide a costume. But just like a true family they didn't let anything stop them, even with his new powers, David wasn't leaving them any time soon.

“Do you want to come?”

“Oh no, I don’t do heights. Besides, it’s warmer in here.” Cecilia replied with a smile, while flapping her hand at David lazily.

“Then Madeline, today you get to fly, just like Rudolph.”

“For real? But you always said it was too dangerous!” She shouted as she jumped off the couch, and then stopped herself. “Wait a minute, what do you mean,I get to fly.”

“It’s just like I said, come to the backyard with me, you get an early Christmas present.”

“Whoa ho ho.” Madeline said excitedly, there’s no way she was going to sleep before midnight now.

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

It was easy to forget it was cold outside if one spent the entire day inside, stepping outside was a slap in the face compared to the comfortable warmth a house provided. “Couldn’t we have done this inside, even mom isn’t coming out?” Madeline asked as she glanced back at the house, her mom gave an eager wave and she turned back around.

“Nope, step back.” Only a moment after David said that a brilliant light engulfed him, energy danced around his body like fireflies, a wave of light pushed off him, along with a soft blast of wind that threw snow everywhere. Maddie raised her arms to shield herself, but when she looked up her dad was still there, still as her dad.

“Um, are you getting old or something?”

“Well with age at least I have wisdom.” David replied, a laugh broke out somewhere near the house, with a smirk David continued. “Look at my hand Maddie.”

Maddie looked down, she had expected to see her father in his hero form, but instead he was just a normal old human right now, except he also held some kind of red ball in his hand, no not holding, it was floating.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded and the sphere rushed at her, hitting her in the chest, and it sunk into her. The same light show as earlier repeated, except her body had transformed and Madeline emerged as Terra Firma instead of David.

“Whoa, so you can just give it to people.”

“Not quite, have fun kiddo.” As soon as he said that Madeline shot off into the air, a trail of energy followed her up. It was so weird to watch ‘Terra Firma’ fly off, he only wished he could go off with her, but she’d be fine.

“WhoooOoooo!” She shouted as she continued to blast around. Flying was amazing, every time he lifted off David also felt a rush of excitement as the wind pushed back on his ‘face’, except he preferred to be on the ground, but his daughter seemed to be taking every bit of his own joy and multiplied it. She noticed that she left a trail as she danced around in the sky and started to make shapes.

David went back inside with Cecilia and they both watched as ‘Terra Firma’ raced across the night sky for a while longer.

“I’m still not convinced this isn’t for a Sombra cosplay…” Yavor said quizzically, holding out the stretchy fabric in one hand.

“It’s not for a Sombra cosplay!” Maddy insisted, stamping her foot hard enough to jostle the sketchpad propped up on the easel. “Besides, I wouldn’t be using my experimental fabric for something outside of work anyway!” The uncomfortableness of the lie made her shrink an inch as she internally scolded herself for not getting a better handle on her powers. Luckily, Yavor was distracted by a content Kaiser purring in his lap long enough for her to correct the height issue.

“In my defense, it does look a lot like the pattern she has, what with the purple hexagons and all.” Yavor said, turning back to the easel. “So what do you want to use this for anyway?”

“Mostly some field testing,” Maddy said, the half-truth not causing her to slip up in her self control. “I don’t think I want it to seal me in but it should be built with protection and ease of use in mind.” Setting the cat aside, Yavor grabbed a marker and walked over to ponder the crude human figure sketches into the center of the pad before starting to make some strokes.

“Well if you’re going to do testing it should be kept...fairly simple. Close to the skin and not too bulky, like so...add some padding on the hands and feet for traction and on the chest for a little bit of protection...cut it off at the….crap!” Yavor shook the marker as it dried up and tried to keep sketching, only to give it up and chuck it in the nearby trash bin. “Your stupid pens keep running out of ink!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Maddy said sheepishly, vaulting the arm of the sofa to get to her closet and start ferreting around inside. “I think I ordered a new pack a while ago and I haven’t gotten the time to...oh that’s where this is!”

Maddy reached into an old bag she almost forgot about and pulled out an old, battered Nintendo handheld, faint pink stains covering the silver surface. “I thought I lost this on the trip over!”

“Lost what?”

“My old DS! I bet it still has...hehe…”

“What’s so funny?” Yavor asked, absently attempting to get some ink out of one of the dead markers.

“Nothing, I just...remembered how this got stained…”


-Ten years ago-
-St Moritz, Switzerland Christmas Eve-

Tinsel was hung and Evergreens dotted the inside of the resort decorated with golden ornaments bought at Tiffany's, waiters dressed as elves with green caps ran about with candy cane trousers. As three men stood near a window. “Fantastic, I have vacationed here every year and it’s beauty brings me to a loss of words. My party is in full swing and all seem to be merry and bright.” As the man held a glass filled with champagne that would put a working man’s salary in the gutter he turned so elegantly towards his well groomed pal. Alistair Wahlforth.

“I see you’ve brought your granddaughter. She seems, free spirited. You’ve also invited a personal friend Terrance Maclain,” pausing to remember what he was remotely in charge of. “He’s... the Curator of the New York Museum right?”

“Quite so, he’s had the privilege of handling some of the most impressive pieces of their collection, and I heard they acquired more. What pieces were they again?”

Stopping himself from shoveling another far too expensive lobster horderve into his mouth, he sat it down on the dish and wiped his thin moustache. “Ah, some rather interesting pieces initial carbon dating reveals some are from the fourteenth century. We’ve uncovered possible remains of a forgotten battle, armor and bucklers what survived of course, and a odd stone staff. We’ve yet to fully examine it due to it’s delicate nature. Could simply be a fossilized walking stick.”

“You cast quite a net Mr. Wahlforth.”

“As do you Mr. Braven Stonewood, even more so do you cast quite the figure. I doubt it’s an exaggeration to say you could bench press half of this room in your gym, yet you find time to explore ancient ruins and manage your vast business.” Laughing the duo picked up another glass from a passing server.

“I believe I still owe you a favor, do not you truly need anything? I still will never know how you managed to find an antidote from mamba venom in the middle of nowhere.”

“I told you, I knew a medicine man in a nearby village. That said, I do think my granddaughter has run off. Perhaps I should find her?”

Stonewood laughed, “no, let the girl have her fun how much trouble can she get into.”

Running through the halls of this massive resort, platter of shrimps in hand Eva dashed through the help spilling cocktail sauce with edible golden flakes into the carpet. Her face plastered with shrimp juice and sauce as she sprung out into another room large enough to host a dance looking for a spot she could snipe food from undetected.

“Darling, why don’t you put that away and socialize for a bit?” came a posh voice from a nearby table. Peeking out from beneath the tablecloth, Eva spotted an older woman in a smart looking evening gown talking to a black-haired girl close to her age sitting at a table, her glasses poking over the edge of a silver Nintendo DS.

“B-but Mom, I almost beat Ignatius…” the mousey-looking girl pleaded from behind her handheld.

“Madeline you can play that Flaming Emblem game whenever, can’t you? You’re ten years old, a little fraternizing won’t hurt you.” The girl named Madeline gave a sad little sigh as she put her system away, looking forlornly at the tablecloth.

Taking notice, of one of the few kids that looked even remotely her own age got Eva a little excited, this party was one for adults, to mingle and talk shop. Kids were either left at home or brought here to suffer a boring hell until night came to end the party. But perhaps Eva could have some fun yet she mused as she waited for a better moment to move.

“Good, now why don’t you introduce yourself to some people? Good to get a head start on your future when you can, after all. Oh, Mr. Harcourt, wait! It’s me, Janet!” Dashing off to find some colleague of hers, the older woman was gone. The girl made a few half-hearted attempts to be noticed by the important looking adults walking by, only to end up staring at her lap instead, looking utterly miserable.

Slipping out from underneath the tablecloth right underneath Madeline Eva spoke as she stood up. “Hey hey, that a game. My parents won’t let me have those, they say it’s trailer trash. I don’t see how anything that could bring smiles is trash, but hey we both have similar names, I’m Evangeline, you’re Madeline right, heard your mom say so. I call myself Eva tho. Never liked long names too formal, like it’s best used for someone you respect not like.” Taking the time to eye up their heights. “Bored too Maddy?” Stunned to silence by the sudden appearance of a girl covered in shrimp juice, the shyer of the two realized she had been asked a question and stammered out a response.

“M-Maddy? But...I’m Madeline...uh...wha….W-why were you under my table?” This was followed by a yelp as Eva tugged ‘Maddy’ by the arm underneath the tablecloth into the hiding spot.

“Adults are boring, always hiding their boo-, um I mean hard ciders. And chatting works.” Sitting by Eva was a couple platters she had freed from the table. “Those aren’t mine by the way. Anyways you wanna have a bit of fun? I know where they keep the room for the water pipes. Found it by myself!” Eva said triumphantly. “But they won’t let me into the kitchen and I need to be in there. Mr. Creepshow won’t budge for me, said I cause problems. Me. I make things fun I swear. You like fun yea? Come on.” Maddy, chewing on one of the shrimps that Eva yoinked from the servers, started to get a little acclimated to the weirdness of the situation before she heard that.

“M-Mr. Creepshow? I don’t know, mom said I shouldn’t lie to adul-eep!” Maddy gave another yelp as Eva tugged on her arm and ferried her out from under the table and towards the kitchen, dodging guest and serving staff to reach their destination.

“It’ll be fun! You’re not lying, you’re distracting!” Eva said as she dragged the poor girl through the halls and stopped short of the kitchen, “There. Come on, this will be grands. You’re my buddy my pal, mate even. Just get em away from the door, here.” Eva said as she shoved an expensive bottle of wine into her arms. “We’ll break that. And have him come and clean it up. It’s the cheap stuff promise. While you do that I’ll sneak by and get in there.”

And like that, Eva gave her new friend a little shove with the wine bottle clutched in her arms like a doll, right into one of the scariest looking men Maddy had ever seen in her life. Clad in a dress uniform she didn’t recognize, the man glared down at the little intruder with eyes the color of cold steel, his craggy, severe facial features looking so much like a gargoyle’s through the mist of his cigar smoke.

“Uh...uh…”

“And what do you want?” the man demanded sharply, sounding as unpleasant and jagged as his face would suggest. Maddy’s mind blanked as the gold gray eyes continued to stare at her, but right when she saw Eva sneak into a spot where the gargoyle man would certainly spot her, she reflexively presented the wine to the man.

“It’s a gift for you, Mister, uh, Cross,” she improvised, misreading the name Krauss on his lapel. Suspiciously, the gargoyle man took the bottle and looked at her, trying to deduce what was going on.

“A...gift…”

“Y-yes. From my...mom!” Maddy said desperately. “Misses Ming!”

“Janet Ming, from Yínhé?” he said, sounding both surprised and impressed. Looking closer at the year, he let out a low whistle as he admired the ‘gift’. “Not bad,” he remarked plainly. “Perhaps...I should thank her for this, then.” And without so much as a glance towards the young girl, the gargoyle man strode off importantly, revealing the inviting, bronze doors of the kitchen.

Watching, Eva snuck behind Maddy, “That was Aces, now we need some red dye.” Said Eva as she grabbed her pal by the wrist. “Look this we’ll be fun, we should chat along the way too. Can’t know nothing about my new partner can I?” Pushing the doors open Eva looked to her left, then right. For any sign of a storage closet where food dye might be kept, syrup or bloody mary mix anything with enough red in it to really make a splash.

“Now, if I were food dye, where would I be?”

“Um, my mom has some stuff for those Bloody Mary drinks she keeps in the fridge at home,” Maddy suggested tentatively as the pair of them hid behind a counter from the patrolling servers. “Is there a big fridge nearby?”

“Shush.” Eva said as the waiters came back round for a new set of platters taking them promptly outside. “Let’s get going quickly wherever the fridge is, it’s clearly not here, might be further in, maybe in that other room.” The pair slid in quietly as the room was unoccupied, and in the corner…. the prize. “That is a big fridge, like four whole doors with a small room attached. The whiskey they must have, I mean yes bloody mary mix.”

“Th-they must have it in there by the gallon!” Maddy exclaimed, actually smiling slightly as she joined Eva in trying to open the massive doors. With a joined heave the doors cracked open and through the cakes, caviar and shrimp was indeed gallons of mixers all for various drinks. Swiping a couple Eva looked to Maddy, her mouth full of a cupcake yoinked from one of the waiting trays.

“See you’re practically glowing. Now.” Taking a peek round the corner. “We need to make a break for it before anyone comes back.”

---

“Wonder what’s taking it so long?” Maddy wondered, staring at the water fountain in the center of the big dance hall. She took another bite of her cupcake as she pondered. “Maybe the pipes on that thing are really old?”

Eva eyeing the massive tree in the corner with presents underneath responded. “Could be, hey you think those are real or just for show? The presents I mean.” As Eva drank a mug of coco while they waited.

“If they are, I’m pretty jealous. Some of those are bigger than I am.” Maddy observed.

“So,” Eva a little nervously asked. “You were talking about your family earlier, the Lings right, what do they actually do?”

“Um, I don’t really know what my mom does...something with a lot of money I think,” Maddy said, sounding uncertain. “But...my dad’s a scientist. He does stuff with biology for the same company, it’s pretty cool. What about you?”

“Family’s traders, merchants, ties with old shipping company’s. Made quite the fortune. My Grandpa is the only nice one though, everyone else just wants me to be a proper lady. I do have a claim to the throne though, after a billion years or so. If I lived that long I’d be Queen of E.” Maddy giggled at the idea of her friend dressed like a fairy tale queen, complete with the robe and pointy crown. “I know right, me Queen, first official rule cake is always eaten first!”

Still giggling, Maddy got a glimpse of her mother across the room, having an animated conversation with a handful of businessmen in expensive looking suits. Spotting her daughter, the elder Miss Ling pointed her daughter out to the businessmen, who waved at her before returning to what was certainly a conversation involving her in some capacity.

“No one really asks me to behave like a lady,” Maddy mused, her smile faltering slightly. “They all just talk about how great and awesome I am. My mom always tries to bring me to meet all these important and wealthy people that care so much about ‘my future’.” Maddy added a hint of bitterness to those two words before her eyes drifted back down to her shoes. “Only here because my mom wanted me to see this person who knows about colleges and stuff. Don’t really have the time to meet...you know...friends…”

“Well, you got one here. You doofus.” Eva said smiling just as a photographer kneeled to snap their picture. Maddy turned a little red, this time not from embarrassment but from affection.

“Y-yeah, I guess I d-”

-VOOOOOOOOSH-

Eva and Maddy both jumped as the fancy fountain in the center of the room suddenly erupted in a spray of tomato-red water, the sound of the water pressure and the panicked shrieks from the guests drowning out the chintzy ambient Christmas music. Eva and Maddy dove to the ground in shock just as the photographers camera snapped, the pair of them turning around to look back just as the red water poured down on them like rainfall.

“I...uh...think the Bloody Mary mix worked,” Maddy commented, lifting up her glasses to get a better look.

“WOW, Just wow. This is Grand you know!” Eva said with a wide smile just as her Grandfather entered the room to see the commotion. Tapping his foot arms fully crossed as he inched closer.

“Why do I feel like you had a hand in this?”

“Madeline,” Maddy’s mother said coolly, stepping out from behind the older man. “Is there something you’d like to explain, young lady?”

“...Merry Christmas?” both girls said in tandem, grinning ear to ear.


-----

“...I was grounded for like six months when we got home,” Maddy explained to Yavor as he looked over the DS curiously. “And my mom didn’t bring me to one of those parties until I was old enough to drive. She had to pay for the repairs with the Wahlforths afterwards, though I heard that Stonewood was so amused he helped to pay for it too.”

“I’m just amazed you met Braven freakin’ Stonewood,” Yavor said impressively with just a hint of jealousy. “The man’s a legend, I’d give my left...whoops!” Maddy spotted a wrinkled bit of paper slip out from between the closed surfaces when Yavor flipped open the game. “Sorry, didn’t think there’d be anything in there.”

“No prob, I’ll get it,” Maddy said, catching the game system as Yavor lobbed it towards her and picking up the paper.

“You know, I think I have some markers in my car,” Yavor pondered before getting up and heading to the front door. “Let me check real fast, okay?”

“Sure, not a problem,” Maddy said absently, looking over the paper as the door slammed shut. Slowly, a smile spread on her face. It was a clipping from a newspaper, a Swiss paper discussing a holiday party gone wrong. Right in the center was a picture of the fancy water fountain erupting in a geyser of red water. In the foreground, a bespectacled ten-year old with familiar black hair and a brunette seven-year old diving for cover with a mixed look of panic and joy on their faces were identified as “Madeline Fen Ming” and “Evangeline Wahlforth”. Where the article began, a ten-year-old Maddy had scrawled out the names with a pen and written “Maddy” and “Eva”, covering the rest of the words with crudely drawn christmas trees and snowflakes. The twenty year old Maddy smiled warmly, folding the paper in half and putting it in her shirt pocket.

“Wherever you are, Eva,” she said quietly. “Merry Christmas.”

---

Time: Morning - Present Day
Location: Carrie’s Apartment, Lost Haven

Metal rang harsh in Berenice’s ears as her talons gripped tightly onto familiar rails. She felt very imbalanced from the extra weight of the passengers she was carrying. While the morning was dawning, and the air was just barely reaching normal summer temperatures for Maine, Berry was already sweating. Partially from nervousness, partially from heat, she supposed. But a good portion was holding so many other heat sources, who were already scattering from her body to check and make sure no observers were watching, and no alarm systems were tripped.

Berenice’s conscious mind had no idea any of this was happening. She had made it to her friends house, and felt moderately secure now. But it was so early, and she knew from the children's stories that humans didn’t wake up with the dawn all that often. Worried that she might have arrived too early, Berry panicked slightly, and decided to announce her presence the way the Sallyman had taught her in their short time together, and mimicked the call of a cockerel.

At the shrill sound of a rooster cawing, Berenice was met with a chorus of barks, birdsong, meows, and then angry neighbours shouting various forms of ‘shut up!’ On the other side of the door Carrie scrambled out of bed tripping over a pile of laundry, quietly trying to calm all her various pets. The locks on the door clicked, two black noses poked out from the wedge of the open door pushing out to see who was there. The black lab and wiener dog woofed and snorted happily up at Berenice. Carrie cracked her eyes open then a grin soon followed at the sight of the Siren. Oscar, the raven flew to Carrie’s shoulder corking in greeting as well.

“Berry! I’m surprised but come in! Come in!” She shuffled back from the door opening it wide.

Distinct thumping from neighbours below, got a few stomps back from Carrie with a ‘Sorry!’ She was in a purple hoodie and pajama shorts. Her long brown hair was in the messiest of buns. Inside her apartment the living room where most of the pets had a home, a big bookshelf held various books relating to magic with knick knacks for decoration, protection. Beyond the pet smell, the smell of sage was present. Crystals of various type sat in a pewter bowl in the window catching the morning sun, recharging. Down the hallway the lights for all the fish tanks were off, Carrie backed up as much as she could stepping on a squeaky dog toy as she did.

The middle of the living room floor had been cleared with a few open books, one of the cats had claimed it for her bed. A glass was full of old black feathers, while a wooden bowl was full of ash.

“Don’t mind the mess, please. I had been up late last night performing a protection rite and it was a doozy.” She said patting her leg to call the dogs back inside.

The siren stepped awkwardly through the entry, trying to ignore the violent abuses to the floorboards her friend was making. She wasn’t at all certain that was normal behaviour, but this was only her third time inside a building, so she didn’t really have a reference to make yet. She felt oddly tickling sensations as her stowaways immediately abandoned her plumage and scattered into the apartment in as secretive a way as they could manage. Berenice did her part to help by shuffling from talon to talon, blocking the view of the various animals, which was no small task itself.

Carrie had used words she knew the meanings of, but in an odd pattern, and cocked her head to the side as she finally settled down, using her left hand to preen a few tangled feathers. This caused her to notice that her shirt was coated in blood again, and some it was black instead of red. The monster had been flinging gore about quite a bit in its throes, it seemed. She pulled off the shirt without a care for propriety she still didn’t understand and began dabbing bits off of herself. I will have to go for a dive and bath later. No chance with the clan on me.

Sunheart dodged nimbly around the effort of taking off the shirt, then looked horribly embarrassed as she realised what Berry had done, hissing into her companion’s ear, ”Great Bird! You should not expose yourself! The Big Folk hate naked skin!”

Berenice muttered a grumbly response as she busied herself, then realised that Carrie might be concerned about the blood. She looked up again, grinned her sharp-toothed grin, and said, ”It is okay, this is not mine. What is a rite?”

Carrie scratched Oscar’s head, rightly not missing the blood on her shirt. “That’s a relief, but who does it belong to? I thought we’d be meeting you at your nest, Charlie at the very least was planning to.” Carrie went over to Oscar’s perch letting him climb on, stifling a yawn. “Are you thirsty? I can get you another shirt.”

The dogs padded over to Berenice sniffing her up and down, their tails wagging happily. The cats seemed to be preoccupied with something else entirely. Oscar corked at Berry for attention as well. Berenice warbled off a greeting to Oscar in his own language while she tried to keep the dogs from licking her shirt, yet give them head pats at the same time. She was not at all sure the stuff from the monster was safe for them, or even her. Thankfully, they seemed perfectly fine with just getting petted distractedly. Sunheart kept her position at the nape of the siren’s neck, hiding in her hair as much as possible. It was far too exposed to the dogs to try and rejoin her clan mates, one of whom was now giving her the all clear signal from a back corner of the living room.

”Oh. I do not have a nest anymore. The monster and those men destroyed it.” She held up the stained shirt and pointed at the appropriate bits while speaking. ”This is from one of those men in black clothes that shot at me and the sword girl Eva, and this is from the monster that Sebastian sent after me. It smelled awful and was made of dead bodies.”

She paused as her belt shifted and the photograph she had stolen from the detective fluttered to the ground. She picked it up and held it out to Carrie. ”And then, when I was on my way into the city, I stopped by a bridge to fish, and a police man with a long coat stopped and tried to arrest me because I am missing.” She screwed up her face in concentration, trying to piece together what information might be helpful and what might be useless human garbage.

”He said something about this girl missing and a bad wizard stole her and turned her into me? Or the police man thinks so. It was all very confusing and he talked for so long. But then I got away and we ate and slept and then I am here!” She beamed, proud of herself for giving so concise a response. It had included even bits that Carrie might not know!

Carrie blinked, looking pained then she waved her hand about. “That sounds great, I need coffee stat if I’m going to keep up with this. I’ll get you some water too, let’s shuffle over to the kitchen.” And shuffle she did, mumbling over what Berenice had told her. When they all moved to the small kitchen, Carrie gestured for Berry to sit at the small two seat breakfast bar. She flicked on the electric kettle, preparing a cup of instant coffee. While it boiled, she fumbled past some of the clutter grabbing a pencil and notepad. She held up her hand asking, “Can I see that picture again, please?”

The grey tabby cat followed on Carrie’s heels, climbing up to the breakfast bar staring intently at Berry’s head where Sunheart was trying to hide. Her tail swooped back and forth with interest. She received some pets from Carrie, distracting her briefly from Sunheart. “What’re you looking at, Mary?”

Berry followed and flapped once to help her jump onto the seat she was directed to, causing a mild stir in the animals, but since they knew her, they did not panic like food. She slid the photograph along the bartop and then glanced at the cat, at the same time wincing at the pinching sensation as Sunheart heard Carrie’s comment and then crawled up into the tangled mess of Berenice’s hair. The little woman was breathing hard, and apparently was not a fan of either the attention or cats, but Berry could do little to help her without giving her away. She folded her wings close in and tucked her head in, roosting up as if she was going to sleep, which obscured the back of her head from view.

”I am not sure how he got my face, or why this Gloria Adams has it. Is this some sort of magic too, Carrie?” Berenice’s voice took on a slightly pleading tone. It was clear she was talking about the way the image of her face was on the paper, not how someone else would look like her. At least she thought so. After all, just pointing at the picture would illustrate that clearly, yes?

Carrie peered at the picture, holding it up to compare the two. She sucked in her bottom lip to chew on. It was eerie, having evidence of the before and after such a thing. It sent shivers along her arm. She placed the photo back down, shuffling back to the kettle to pour some hot water. She grabbed a glass of water for Berenice as well. “Let me get this straight, so a police officer - a detective had come up to you with this photo and said you were missing? You’ve been wearing the circlet right? He didn’t see you as you normally are?”

Carrie blew over her coffee, she was concerned. Having the authorities involved would make all this more complicated. Lifting the veil on their secrets to a stranger would be a disaster. “We can trust each other to keep secrets but strangers can’t be trusted. Magic secrecy is how we survive.” Carrie stressed, a lesson drummed into her by her coven and family. The monster that attacked her nest, what of it? Who was this sword girl? Carrie wrapped her hands around her mug. She wished Charlie were here, maybe she could visit her later to check in.

”Yes I was wearing the circle. See?” She retrieved the item from her belt and gently placed it atop her head. Now disguised again, with ‘combed’ hair and with her eagle eyes and teeth covered up, she looked precisely like the girl in the photo once more, sitting calmly at the bar instead of perching like a gargoyle.

”But then he took a picture of me with his phone thing, and I think he saw my wings on that. And then he talked for a while. I think he wanted to send to photo to the girls mother? I do not know. It was all very confusing.”

As she spoke, Berry reached up as subtly as she could, ostensibly scratching at the back of her neck. It took a few seconds for Sunheart to catch on to her plan, but then she hopped into the siren’s hand and curled into a fetal position as fingers wrapped around her as gently as possible. Once she was secure, Berenice swiftly moved her hand from her neck to her lap, releasing Sunheart out of view of Carrie and the feline. Sunheart scrambled as quickly as she could down and away towards the wall. While she was reasonably certain any human habitation would have gaps she could slip through, the sheer number of animals was causing her no end of anxiety, so she hurried as much as she dared. A fellow clan member stepped out into her view and ushered her through a tiny gap between the plaster of the wall and the bar side panel.

Carrie frowned, “Gloria Adams.” Writing that name down, “I’m sorry Berry, I think…”

She took a moment, “I think you are lucky you don’t remember who you used to be. The magic used to create you was foul. A true meddling with nature, there is no return from that. I pray, you never remember. Gloria Adams is gone.” She sighed noting roughly the week she could have disappeared.

“If this detective saw your true self, that’s not good. We’ll have to be more careful when moving about the city now, even in your disguise.” Carrie said. “So what about this monster? You said it was made of a bunch of dead things-” Mary jumped off the counter following her nose, the weiner dog came to join them in the kitchen following the cat’s attention.

“Okay what are you two looking at? So distracting.” Carrie huffed, leaning down to check out the floor. “If it’s a mouse or a roach don’t kill it!”

Berenice’s eyes went wide as she looked down. Several more animals were beginning to get curious as well, but the siren was fixated on the poor Clan member who had helped Sunheart through the gap. He had become somehow stuck in the gap, and was struggling desperately to wiggle out of view. But the animals had spotted his frantic efforts, and were now closing in. She could see Sunheart’s arms reaching around him, trying to pull him through, but it didn’t seem to be working. Apparently his armour, which looked to be fashioned from bottle caps, had gotten a rough edge stuck into the plaster, and now it dug in tighter with every tug. Berenice didn’t know what to do. They had just been talking about secrets and why they should keep them, and now her own secret was about to be exposed for the second time in as man days, but this time not out of necessity!

Sunheart struggled desperately as her clanmate whispered to her, “Just go! I’ll get away!”

”I will not leave you behind to get eaten by that creature! Undo the straps we can-”

Berenice had finally hit a breaking point of panic after only a few seconds, and leapt across the small gap between her and her little friends, landing between them and the animals. Instinctively, she let out a warning cry, like an upset eagle whose nest had been disturbed. The sound set off the animal’s own instincts, and suddenly the entire apartment erupted into chaos.

The weiner dog woofed in fear, Mary jumped back with a hiss both of them had hair standing on end. The other dog and cat came rushing down the hallway making their own array of noise. Oscar was the last to come to investigate the noise adding his own call. Angry neighbours began hammering at the ceiling again. Carrie jumped back with a yelp. She sprung back trying to quiet them all, both Berry and her pets. Even the fish joined in splashing about in their tanks, sloshing water onto the carpet. “Guys guys! Please! What the hell!”

Just as suddenly as the chaos began the small phone on Berry’s hip started playing loudly vibrating just as loudly. “Berry! Berry, answer the phone!”

“For the love of god, quiet down!”

Berenice dropped out of defense mode as her panic settled down, only to flip right back up as the phone made noises at her. Charlie had told her it would do that, so she fumbled at her belt, where it hung by sliding the belt through either half of its folding structure. She managed to get it off the belt, but then dropped it. She stumbled around the cat, snatched the device back up, opened it, remembered to hit the green button, then held the device up, staring at it confusedly. Her glance flicked up to Carrie with a pleading look on her face.

Carrie said, “C’mere Berry, you’re holding it upside down… Hello? Charlie? Hey girl!”

Carrie spoke with Charlie over the phone, reassuring her as well as she could. She carefully stepped over her pets, quieting them down now. She leaned over the counter, sipping at her cooled coffee listening to Charlie, as she expected, her friend insisted on joining her immediately. Carrie put a firm stop to that, dropping the obvious reminder of what only happened the day before at the university, then wrapped up the conversation.

She closed the phone pushing it back over to Berry. “Charlie says Hi, she saw your nest and well…” She trailed off, “She had a rough day yesterday. So she’s going to take care of someone else before she comes to see us.”

“Don’t know when that’ll be though…” She commented, mostly to herself.

“Oh no, that is right, she was supposed to come today!” The siren’s plumage fluffed up as she realised her mistake. “Maybe it is okay? The Sallyman was supposed to be there too, may be they will cross paths and everything will be okay?”

Berenice glanced behind her. Apparently the two Clan had managed to get into cover while she had been distracting the animals, though the dark glances the cats were giving her let her know that her actions were not going to be forgiven any time soon. The dogs, however, seemed to be doing fine now that the excitement was over. She quorked at Oscar in apology, then turned back to Carrie.

“I need to wash, Carrie. Are we near the sea?”

“By what Charlie said, it sounds like whatever happened was long over by the time she got there. Nobody around. As for a bath…” Carrie thought tapping her chin, “If you promise not to make a huge mess, you can use my tub. It’s like the ocean, but inside!” She said happily.

She finished off her coffee then beckoned for Berry to follow. “Oh! I think I have leftover bubble bath too! Some essential oils to help you uh- smell better. Like herbs or flowers. Then maybe I can help detangle your hair.” She bubbled, heading into the bathroom running some water.

“I thought oil was what you washed off? Like if it is in the water it is bad?” the siren asked as she hop-skipped after her host, her disguised image walking slowly and carefully in a reflection of her. The steam from the bath running confused her. “And why does the water need to be so hot? Cold sea water feels fine, I do not want to get boiled!”

“No, silly. There’s good oils, good smelling oils, the warm water helps relax muscles and loosens dirt. Trust me, you’ll like it.” She filled the bathtub, pulling free some rosemary oils dropping a few droplets into the water. Next, she opened a bottle of liquid bubble bath soap drizzling it through the water, churning it up under the running water. She pointed to the bath, “Now get in, I’ll scrub down your back and take care of your hair. No buts!”

Carrie was firm, the animals around them shied a little at the authority.

---

Berenice sat at the kitchen counter again, playing with the comb her host had given her for brushing out her feathers, since she lacked the spine flexibility or beak to clean her plumage the same way her natural born cousins did. It wasn’t fancy, just simple plastic, but she was still engrossed in admiring it after her bath, which, despite her promise to not make a mess, had left Carrie’s bathroom looking like a warzone. The towelling had been the worst, since she hated being dried with the things as Carrie had found out, going so far as to snap and claw at them as if they were prey. She had been polite enough to help clean up afterwards, and now that she was scrubbed and clean, her feathers were a wonderfully shiny affair. She busied herself with straightening them, a task that looked to occupy her for a long while.

Carrie huffed, dragging her forearm over her brow closing the bathroom door. She changed out of her pajamas and into something dry. Carrie plopped into an armchair, looking over Berry. Carrie scrubbed and untangled her hair, fully knowing it would not last past the day. Grit of various origins came off of her then promptly disappeared down the drain. She once thought her bathtub would never look as disgusting as it did after Charlie had once used it to rinse off from dumpster diving. Today easily beat that.

The witch pushed off from her chair and lit some an incense, bringing out a small brass dish and digging through a little plastic baggy of cone shaped incense. It was dark blue, the label on the baggy was ‘Fresh Rain.’ With a new smell drifting through the air she sat back down and immediately the grey tabby hopped into her lap.

“Berry, we went over that huge dead monster thing that attacked you but what about the men with guns? What did they look like? I really really hope they were just some weird hunters but the coincidence is too fantastic.” Carrie sighed, scratching between her cat’s ears the purr rumbling across her stomach sounding like a furry lawnmower.

The siren looked up from her task, eyes wide. “The big men? They were wearing dark clothes with lots of straps. Their stupid leg coverings made swishy sounds like plastic and cloth, I think?” She thought for a second, and then opened her mouth very slightly and repeated the sound of nylon clothes rubbing together almost perfectly.

“They had those two hand guns, the long ones. And they shot bullets with light in them that was hard to blink out of my eyes because it was night. All of them were wearing helmets and had all sorts of straps and pockets all over. Does this help?”

Carrie swore under her breath, “I was afraid of that, you were attacked by the Hounds of Humanity. How the hell did they find you… That really doesn’t matter I suppose.” She said mostly to herself when she looked back to Berry her expression was rather serious, far more now than typically could ever be. “Those men with guns have been hunting and killing us recently. Metahumans and anyone apart of the magic community. They’re just monsters, that’s why Charlie didn’t get to you on time like she said she would. They attacked the university Charlie was at yesterday and she had to fight them. She survived but it did a number on her so... I kept her away today so she can take it easy until she recovers.” Carrie said swallowing a dry spot in her throat, whenever she saw footage of the attacks it really drove home the reality. She never felt so scared for her life let alone the lives of all her friends and family. “They’ve been attacking orphanages, nightclubs, and now stomping in on schools. Thank God you got away safely.”

“But we really have to be careful about your disguise, where you go. This detective on your tail now will make things worse. If he can run into you there’s no telling how capable these Hounds of Humanity are at hunting you down.” Carrie sat back, slowing down. Allowing Berenice some time to digest.

Berenice fluffed her feathers out and made a disturbingly war-like sound, fairly bristling on her seat. ”These people attacked Car-lee? They went after a place of children!? Sebastian has an army!?”

Faint sparkles floated off the ends of the siren’s wings, and they shimmered slightly with the rainbow shine of an oil slick. Magic was suddenly very much filling the room as her temper flared. Loose papers skittered sideways as she beat her wings once in frustration, and the tiny motes of light in the air zipped about as if they themselves had become angry.

”Carrie, tell me where these foul things make their nest! If they are attacking nestlings, then their own nest should be taken! I will rend their feathers from their flesh and stomp the life out of their wings! They shall fly no more, and their blood shall feed the grass!”

“Woah woah woah!” The cat screeched and clung to Carrie in fear of Berry’s anger. The incense was quickly overpowered by the smell of the sea and a lightning storm, static charged the air around them raising the hair across her arms. TVs and other electronics surged brightly.

Carrie hugged the cat in one arm and stood up mustering all of her strength to reign Berry in desperate to calm her animalistic side. Her own magic being heavily battered against, it was raw power. “Berry! Please! Calm down, please!”

Berenice’s eyes, glowing slightly, flicked over her friend, and she saw the terrified cat hugging tight to her guardian and immediately felt a wash of regret. The power surge left her as quickly as it came, and her eyes grew even wider with terror as she looked around, checking to make sure there were no animals who had been hurt during her tantrum.

”I am sorry, Carrie, I do not know I could do that! I am sorry! I am sorreee!” She hopped up and down on her perch, flexing her talons and going from side to side and running her hand through her hair. ”Are you okay? Are the animals okay? Oh no! The Clan!” And with that she shot off the perch and came to a halt pressing her nose to the cabinet where problems had started earlier.

”Sunheart! Are you unhurt?” Her finger claws scritched gently against the cabinetry, trying to signal her friend. Several moments went by before Sunheart sighed and reached through the tiny gap, patting her companion’s nose once to say everything was fine, before squeezing her way out completely and clambering up onto the siren’s shoulder. She seemed utterly unconcerned by Carrie, standing in plain view, and grabbed her friend’s ear in a tight hug, whispering something that did not carry the distance to their host.

Once the magic storm Berenice generated calmed down, with it all the electricity in the apartment shut off then popped back on a few seconds later. Carrie had her eyes squeezed shut, when she heard the telltale beep of the microwave coming back on she opened one eye then both, relaxing with a slump of her shoulders. She slowly approached Berenice, “... The Clan? Did I hear that right? Is that… Is that who I think she is?” Carrie squinted at Sunheart, petting and calming the grey tabby. She hardly paid attention to the scratch marks she was sure to find later. “No fucking way.” Her voice rose in an excited octave on ‘way.’

The cat shook with fear but squirmed out of her arms racing away, the other animals had taken cover into other rooms.

Sunheart backed off of her hug, finally, and stood with her tiny chest puffed out, glaring in the direction of the disappearing feline as Berenice turned to face Carrie again. Her wings twitched agitatedly, and her hands couldn’t seem to find a single position. Her eyes, however, were full of vigor tinged with rage, and she looked levelly at Carrie.

”Carrie, I need to learn magic. I need to learn it very quickly. Because I am tired of seeing these things happen and just running away. I can claw and I can sing, but it does nothing against these people and monsters. I need a way to do something useful, and I do not trust the Sally Man to do it well. Could you teach me? Or can you tell me where to go?”

Carrie blinked then pointed to herself, “M-me? I-... I mean I’m no magic slouch but I’m hardly my Nan. I’ve never taught anybody anything. Well…” She began with doubt hanging on every word, she swallowed again. She ultimately made a promise to Charlie she’d take care of Berry, and if teaching how to control her now, apparent magical abilities without needing to rely on Charlie’s help. Carrie could do it, Salamander is an old wizard with a shady connection to Sebastian and out of anyone else in the city Carrie could connect with both sides of Berry.

She squared up, “I can teach you and I will. You’re right, Berry. You need to nail your basics, learn your limits not just for yourself but for everyone around you. I’m not some hedge witch, my family has been embroiled with witchcraft for generations. We have always had a strong affinity for animals.” She took up Berry’s hands in her own, “We can do this.”

The tiny woman on the siren’s shoulders looked Carrie up and down several times, staring hard
At her eyes and hands especially, before Berenice spoke. Her voice was a little hushed. ”This is my friend Sunheart. I was sworn to keep her and her clan secret, but she says now is the time to speak with you. You need to be close, though, her voice doesn’t carry far.”

She did her awkward shuffling step over to the counter and placed her left hand down flat. Sunheart jogged herself down the arm and onto the counter, her head moving rapidly as if checking for threats, before spinning on her heel and facing Carrie again. She said something to Berenice, who shuffled back towards the gap the Clanswoman had appeared out of and sat quietly, watching.

Carrie nodded taking the small woman seriously, crouching low and leaning close enough to hear what she had to say. The young witch spoke truthfully, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sunheart. My name is Carrie Ludwig. Usually I notice when things sneak into my house but… as you probably know Berenice is kind of a big deal.”

“So where did you meet Berenice?”

”She is the Great Bird who guarded my Clan’s territory. And rescued us when the Rotting One attacked. She is an honorary member of the Clan. But you put us in an odd position, Carrie Ludwig.”

She put on hand on her hip while she explained, plucking at an errant fiber of her leaf armour. ”One of the reasons you would not have noticed us entering your home is that we are very good at hiding. One of our laws state that we must not be seen by you Big Folk.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the next part.

”I don’t believe that can save us any more. We are here because our home was destroyed, and we would all have died had we not introduced ourselves to the Great Bird Sister. We must not follow the path that nearly led to all of us, even the children, dying. So I am going to act as an ambassador to you Big Folk. This also allows us to ask for supplies instead of taking what we need invisibly, something you Big Folk seem to take to….poorly.” She fidgeted, looking hesitant even though for the most part she seemed to project herself as a brave warrior.

”Part of the reason I can do this is that our elders and our Clan Chief are not here yet. We had to separate. There will be fights when they return. But I feel, even if I am driven out of the Clan, that this is a necessary step.” Her New Englander accent was soft, and her voice was thick with meaning as she stared up into Carrie’s eyes, unwavering and searching. ”Please don’t make me regret this.”

Solemnly Carrie nodded, this was a big deal for Sunheart and her people. Sunheart expected it to be treated as such. Cheerfully she replied, “Sharing is caring! As I said to Berry and you heard as much for yourself, I’m a witch. I’m more than happy to open my home to spirit as I am for you and your clan. The animals will take some time to grow used to seeing you around, but they’re quite good at listening to me.”

“I really hope this doesn’t force them to move on without you, breaking sacred laws is a really tough one to face. My cousin, once removed, had gone hunting once used his gifts of animal communion to lure a deer easier. He thought it was okay to hang the head as a trophy. He was exiled, stricken from the family tree and goes unmentioned. He broke a law of respect to animals, broke the trust he created with the deer using the family’s inherent gifts then gave no purpose beyond decoration. A real waste of life.” She said tapping her chin, then moved on quickly. “When you do reconnect with your elders, let me know what I can do. If it’s privacy, proof of my good intentions or provisions. Anything, really.”

“I truly do believe in earning your trust, Sunheart.”

”Well. We’ll see how that goes under the bridge when it comes downriver. For now, we would prefer to stay hidden. Not that we like hiding, but when you are normal size instead of freakishly tall, it is better to hide, and then it becomes second nature. If you could tell me where to get some thread, some gauze, toothpicks, and a few bits of wire, it would be good. We can feed ourselves well, but some of our vital supplies were left behind, and others we’ll have to come up with a new way of doing anyway.”

Berenice cooed softly to herself, staring out the window. Her golden eyes seemed to be searching for something past the other buildings, and despite her apparent relaxation, her talons were flexing into the flooring ever so slightly. She was agitated, clearly, but the set of her jaw said ‘anger’ more than ‘nervous’.

“That’s no problem, I have lots of junk around here. Probably the tidiest places are where the animals hang out, haha.” Carrie replied, Berry’s cooing caught her ear but her feelings flowed off of her in waves. Carrie shuffled over to Berry. “You know Berry, we’ve got ourselves a full sized plate of trouble. You, me, Charlie, and Sunheart.”

“I think if we take things one day at a time, one problem at a time. Whether it’s some terrorists, or a mad necromancer. It’s starting to feel normal for us here. One city shocker after another. It’s good though.” She said looking out the window too. “It’s good to be angry. We have to stay angry until things get better. Actually better.”

The siren shook her head. ”Patience is good, I understand, but this problem with Sebastian,” as she pronounced every syllable of the man’s name separately, ”He needs to be killed as the hawk strikes the spine of her prey. One swift, breaking attack that renders the prey incapable of action. But it is like striking a crab, yes? Your talons can pierce the shell, but with hitting the squishy grey things, you cannot disable them without splattering them across the beach. And then you have a mess to clean up.

“I would be okay with this, except the mess where he is concerned may include horrors being scattered into the city, and we cannot risk that. So I must know precisely where, when, and how to hurt him to minimise the damage.” She turned her gaze to Carrie for just a moment.

Carrie crouched down listening intently, she held her hands together fingers interlaced. Berenice’s tone, her speech, it all changed so much. It really threw her for a loop, how exactly someone could mature emotionally in just a month’s time. Not to mention the instinctual battle of wits between her humanity and animal sensibilities. She had no baseline to empathize with. It really was fortunate she couldn’t remember what it was like to be Gloria Adams. It’d make things so much worse. Where Sebastian was concerned, she was right. Left to his own devices for much longer and he’ll cause more damage as he has time to prepare. Carrie didn’t interrupt.

”Can we even make that decision, Carrie? Can Car-lee? Could even the Sallyman? It is deciding to put hundreds, thousands of lives at risk, but for the betterment of the entire city.” Her hands reached up to paw at her temples, clearly agitated.

”If we do this, we may be dooming children to die, due to things we cannot control. But if we do nothing, and ignore Sebastian, everything becomes worse.”

She shook her head, eyes taking on a very forlorn look as she turned her head to look out of the window again. ”When I was just hunting for myself, everything was simple. Nothing ever meant anything more than ‘I was eating” or “I was not eating”. Now everything is so complicated, and I do not know what to do, Carrie. Every choice carries weight far beyond what my wings could bear, but to not choose is even worse.

“This is why I need the magic.” One clawed finger tapped against the glass, then slid down nervelessly. ”Maybe, somewhere deep in the recesses of what it can do, there is a solution that is not catastrophic.”

Carrie brought her hands up to her chin, thinking on what she could say. Berenice was feeling the weight of the world, being settled to deal with her creator’s bullshit. Taking responsibility. She wondered where Berenice picked up on that, the need to hold Sebastian accountable and his removal.

“S’why you have us, your friends. We support each other and we equally take a portion of the weight you’re carrying. Seriously, as cheesy as it sounds.” Carrie began, looking out the window as well. “It’s not just your problem to deal with on your own Berry. Things in life get more complicated regardless of what you were doing before, it happens like a baseball bat being swung over your head. You get dragged into stuff whether you’re willing or not.” She said with a little smirk.

“I will teach you how to control your magic. We’ll act and as… uneasy as it makes me think to hurt someone else. It makes me way more uneasy to think how many people could get hurt because of Sebastian. Some things have to happen, they happen for a reason. I don’t believe in coincidences, Berry. Paths crossing, lines of fate. The will of gods.” Carrie had a faraway look, she snapped back to reality suddenly needing to make an offering at her alter. “Charlie hates when I get in about fate, we’re opposites like that.”

She pushed up on her knees to stand, “We’ll begin our lessons this afternoon with basics.”

Time: Evening - Present Day
Location: Smithy’s Grocery Store, Las Vegas

Mandate felt that she had every right to be proud of her self-control; when faced with sudden violence nad noise, she did not crush the werewolf in her grasp in surprise, or throw them through a wall. Granted, it was quite hard to startle her in such a way, as there were so few things that could hurt her, but that was besides the point.

And so, rather than throwing the wolf through a wall, Mandate instead gave her a light toss into the smoke, head tilted as she moved closer to her human companion as a sort of shield. Her hands curled into facsimiles of claws as screams and gunfire filled the air, and her smile was unyielding. Is it time for violence? They're threatening Miss Ambassador, and hurting her with that smoke. That's rude.

The Ambassador's instructions were answer enough. The mercurial construct did not have a heart that could pound in excitement, but there was a swell of excitement in her chest as bullets fell over her as lightly as a drizzle. "Of course, Miss Ambassador." she all but crooned, pleased with the reintroduction of violence into her routine that this meeting had become. First the wolf, and now people she could actually tear open to examine. The pleasant bells, presumably her guidance, chimed around the golem as she tilted her head and gazed into the smoke.

Mandate focused inwards as she stepped forward. With every calm pace in the direction of the bells, her weight increased, a hundred pounds per pace, until the floor cracked beneath her weight. That should do it, she decided cheerfully, Now, to play.

And so, she began to, for lack of a better word, swagger.

The ground beneath Mandate's feet cracked with every calm step, her massive foot weighing far more than it should and bringing with it a rather ominous reverberation that was perhaps lost in the chaos. A cheerful hum went up as the golem raised her arm, bringing it down in an idle swipe that turned the shelf before her into little more than shredded shrapnel and wasted products. She did not slow in her step, her bulk plowing through what her hand did not destroy as she followed the sound of bells in as straightforward of a path as possible.

There. Further into the smoke, the shape of a man, a weapon in hands. Evidently, judging by the deluge of bullets against her torso as the man screamed, he had seen her as well- or perhaps heard her ruckus, even with the commotion. Good. I want them to hear me coming. I want them to fear me. Why's he screaming so much, though? Miss Ambassador must have scared him with something. Or maybe he's saying hello!

"Hello!" Mandate's sudden lunge ate up the distance between her and the backpedaling figure, her stride greater for both her superior strength and the sheer size of her legs. The man made a curious choking sound, presumably choking, as she slowed back to a lackadaisical swagger to watch him. He dangled off of the ground from her grip upon his throat, smaller hands scrabbling futilely at the gentle grasp of a limb large enough to swallow up his head. Whether he was trying to pull her hand open or his neck free, it didn't really matter. She was content to watch for a moment.

And then she was not. I better keep moving. With the wolves loose, there might be nothing else for me to do!

Her fingers settled atop his head in a curled grasp, her 'nails' digging in as easily as through air. "Goodbye." The man's head and body were torn asunder with a tug in opposite directions, the latter tumbling uselessly in a spray of crimson to the floor as she released it in the same motion. Giggling to herself, the golem pitched the man's cranium out into the smoke, a wanton arc in the direction of the bells that only bloodied the environment and her own form further.

Mandate's smile, painted as it was by a streak of red that was rapidly sliding off of her smooth surface, was as unchanging as ever. Who knew meetings could be so fun?

---

Phantom voices drowned out the screaming patrons of Smithy’s, the encroaching attack fading from vision. Smoke rose over their dimming visage, feint cries calling to Marie in a familiar fashion. The panic, the pain, the rage, all this and more come flooding back in an instant. Blind was she to her surroundings, deaf to the worried cries of Holt and the wolves, numb to the rumbling earth beneath. All that was ceased to be until there was nothing.

Marie closed her eyes, attempting to make sense of her fading world while riding a wave of dread and fear. This unknown, this illusion, it called to her minutes before, beckoning her ashore with invisible light and ethereal bells. It was like a dream, rather, the waking from one. The confusion, the longing, Marie felt them all intimately as she drifted on a silent sea.

And then she awoke to truth; and then she awoke to the past.



Gwyneth sipped merrily her glass of wine, its floral bouquet and honeyed tang cutting through the bitterness she had come to expect. The savory scent of roasted game and sweet confectioneries filled the dining hall of her recent friends. Each platter was expertly presented on fine silver, the finest she had seen in her stay. The witches of London had become accustomed to finery. Truly they had spoiled her.

They were four in number, Gwyneth included, all seated at one end of a long table stained a few shades darker than actual wood. The others were well mannered yet wild, as they were want to be, while Gwyneth held a definitive air of mystery her peers could never hope to attain.

“Shall we dance tonight?” one of the witches spoke, a fair haired girl of 17 with elegant curls and striking eyes. “The moon is right for it.”

Gwyneth laughed along with the others, their jovial disposition an ironic betrayal of otherwise wicked and hedonic desires.

“We have danced for three moons, Miss,” a young man responded, hair similarly fair but eyes more dull. “Is there nothing more for us to do this night? Perhaps we should away to the west, see the country by cover of night.”

He turned to Gwyneth, taking a sip of his wine. “Would that be agreeable to you, Miss Owens? I would very much like to visit the home of our newest.”

“Oh let’s!” the first witch exclaimed.

Gwyneth shifted uncomfortably in her seat, sipping her wine for the duration of their conversation, sad at having reached the bottom of the glass. Her own flight to London was to escape the complications of home, if ever she had one.

“It is entirely uninteresting, I assure you. Perhaps a stroll through the back garden would be more fruitful?”

“Oh come now,” their last companion interjected, a portly woman with dark hair, “modesty doesn’t become you, Gwyneth. Let us see the forests of your home, hear their whispers and dance among them.”

Before Gwyneth had a chance to object, a loud crash sounded through the hall leading to the dining room. Two tall men in dark coats ominously lingered in the entryway, mouths covered by scarves, the rest of their faces obscured by the brims of their hats. They moved with purpose, brandishing swords with feint inscriptions at their waists. Their intent was clear.

The witches stood in unison as if communicating their strategy through a mental link. Each cast out their arm, sending their assailants soaring into the wall behind, paintings and other decor shaking and clattering to the floor in response. Gwyneth gestured for her friends to flee. They were reluctant to leave, but the seething rage in her eyes made them aware of her motive.

And darkness overcame her, world fading like a dream.



Marie awoke from her memory, but her mind was set to one purpose. This world mirrored the other, this moment liken to another. The rage that filled her once before filled her now, the desire for freedom, to be rid of persecution, all pooled into Marie.

Two figures stood out among the destruction, Hounds dressed all in black, faces obscured, weapons raised and aimed at her companions. She could hear their berating, feel the sting of their presence. She hated them more than before. It was a simple motion, a single wave that sent them back into the wall near the entrance. Marie inched forward, stepping over the mangled forms of freshly dead Hounds.

”You will torment me no more,” her voice was her own, yet held the sound of something older, the hint of an accent, the ripple of power and something unnatural.

A single spark fell from her fingertips, and in response the Hounds were set aflame, fire creeping up their legs, engulfing their bodies, drowning their cries. She held them there for a time, relishing in their agony, the sound of it a familiar song, a well loved tune.

Her rage settled, her mind began to steady, and yet she was different. Not less herself, but more. And so the old became the new, a memory long lost returned in the heat of battle.
   
It wouldn’t be the last.

San Maria, California

A cool, damp air hung over San Maria as Mozart looked over the city. The area never really got all that hot, even in the beginning of the summer like this. The cool, ocean air kept the city damp and temperate, which was perfect for the frogs. Still, considering what was going on in the city, Art felt like the city should be in the grip of a heat wave. It would be the acceptable situation for a city in the early days of war.

His siblings didn't want to admit it yet, but they were born into a war. IDRG and the Eye were two combatants. Their escape added a third. The Bandits being caught up with the Eye added another. Throw in the cops of San Maria and Pinebluff and you had a powder keg ready to blow any minute.

He couldn’t focus on that too much on that summer night, however. They had a mission. Children had been disappearing for hours at a time, only to reappear in their homes hours later no worse for wear. Well, except for the fact that they had two small puncture wounds on their shoulders. Police were worried, but all medical tests came up normal, so the families were content. It was off the Frogs’ radar until the night they saw who had been abducting the children.

It was the tooth fairy. Or Santa Claus. Or the Easter Bunny.

At least, it was something that looked like them. How and why were the real questions they needed answered. Considering they had interrupted the Church of the Eye using blood sacrifices in their rituals, it wasn’t out of the question that they were behind this. If that was the case, then these children probably weren’t out of the woods yet.

“I can’t believe Santa is a vampire,” Bach mused as he sat on the edge of the building’s roof, feet dangling over. “I mean I figured he had to be a zombie, considering how old he is. But a good zombie. Not a vampire zombie.”

“Bach,” Clara shook her head and chuckled, “Santa isn’t either. Whatever this thing is, it’s just using the image of Saint Nick and the others to lure its victims.”

“It’s disgusting,” Ludwig spat.

That it was. Using a symbol of happiness and innocence to do that to children was the ultimate form of disgust. The Frogs had seen a lot of perverse things in their year on the outside. The Eye was masterful at them. But this was taking things to a new level.

“Guys,” Angela’s voice cam over the commlinks. She was back at the base, taking care of tracking movement in the city from the Frogs’ Den. “I’ve got movement on a roof three blocks over and two buildings north. Drone wasn’t close enough to see if it was our guy, but it’s a start at the very least.”

“Thanks, Ang,” Mozart responded as the four mutants took off in that direction. They moved like the wind over the rooftops, taking cover behind HVAC equipment when they spotted one of the IDRG drones heading their way. While they now had access to their cameras, they didn’t have the ability to ensure the scientists looking for them didn’t receive the footage as well.

Art loved scrambling over the rooftops of San Maria. Seeing the city from above was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. It made him feel connected with the place, even if he’d never really be a citizen of the great metropolis. This was the way he connected with the concrete jungle. By traversing it and protecting it.

“Approaching the target location now,” Clara said, relaying their progress toi Angela. It was a small apartment building. Nothing special, but a good, solid home for the people living there.

“Guys,” Bach pointed with a trembling hand, “look.”

They followed his line of view to find Santa Claus climbing up over the lip of the roof. It was not a human-like climb however. Santa clambered over the side like a komodo dragon, arms and legs flailing like some sort of ungainly lizard. Once he was fully on the roof, it straightened, almost as if its spine had been shifted out of, then back into, place. For a moment, its image rippled, almost like a buffering internet video.Suddenly, it noticed them, and Santa took off across the rooftop. It lept to the next one almost as easily as the frogs could.

The four of them stood dumbfounded for a moment before Clara shook them out of their stupor, “What are you guys waiting for!? Let’s go!”

The Frogs then took off after the creature, whatever it really was. He was fast, faster than he looked. It took all of their maximum effort to keep up. If it was taxing them this hard, it had to be doing the same to him.

While it was fast, it didn’t have the knowledge of these rooftops like they did. It hesitated on its course, which allowed the four siblings to keep pace, and even gain a little.

After three blocks of the chase, Art looked over at Bach, “Time to hogtie our friend. Clara! Time for some rope-a-dope!”

His sister smiled back at him, and pulled one of her war fans from her belt. She reared back and tossed it in front of their prey as he went to make a quick turn. He quickly changed course, which is what the youngest frog was waiting for. Bach tossed out his weighted chain, which caught the imposter by the ankles, tying its feet together. The creature lost its balance, bringing it down hard on the rooftop.

The four of them approached slowly, and Santa Claus growled in a low, gurgling voice, “You Eye bastards finally caught me. Take me to your monstrous gods quick. I don’t want to wait to be sacrificed.”

“We’re not the Eye, you’re the Eye!” Clara responded indignantly.

“Not in a million years!” Santa Claus spat.

“Stealing blood from kids sure seems like an Eye move,” Ludwig growled. “No need to pretend.”

“I…,” Santa shook his head. “I needed it to get home. I’m not with them. But now I understand why you thought I was. But you four...you are not of nature. How are you not made from the Outside Ones?”

“Long story,” Art responded gruffly. “But we’re trying to stop the Eye from taking over this city. So far we took down one of their gods. We’ll take down any more that we come across.”

“Ah,” Santa said knowingly, “it was you who stopped the devourer. Impressive. I see we’re on the same side then.”

Santa’s image flashed again, like before. Except this time it did not come back into focus. This time it melted away, revealing the creature’s true form. To Art and his siblings, it looked like a lilac colored iguana, but with fewer spikes running down its back. One of its eyes had been lost in some battle long over, and was replaced with a mechanical one.

“My name is Olab,” he said with a nod of its head. “In my universe, we also know of the Outside Ones and their followers. Here, they’re known as the Eye. In my Universe, they are known as the Dark Order. Either way, they want the same thing. To feed our realities to their insatiable gods for some reward that will probably never come.”

"Why the hell were you disguised as Santa and the others?" Art poked the large lizard with his bo staff.

"It's an ability my species has," he sighed. "We can turn into things that we gleam from others' minds. I was using it to gain the trust of the people of your world. It is shameful, but it was necessary."

“Okay, Olab,” Clara was still skeptical. “But I still want to know why you were stealing blood from children.”

“It’s…,” the lizard sighed, “it’s for a ritual my people stole from the Outside Ones’ teachings. It is shameful, but we’ve used it to keep one step ahead of them. It’s what allows us to send scouts to adjacent Universes and find the Outside Ones’ progress towards us. I had blood from my world, but lost it in an encounter with the Church of the Eye’s leader.”

Everything the interdimensional traveler said made sense to Art. The Eye witch needed blood to sustain the devourer god and bring it into their world. If blood is what the Eye used to traverse the realities, they others could do it as well. Still, Olab was not the most trustworthy looking being, and what was to say he himself wasn’t one of these Outside Ones?

“So you saw the witch then?” Clara asked, referring to the Eye’s leader.

“Witch? No. I saw the shadow warrior. He was terrifying. I barely made it out alive,” as he spoke about the encounter, he stared off into nothing, as if the memory still haunted him. “That one is dangerous. A true fanatic, and the ability to make his dark desires reality. I pity you have to deal with him.”

“We have to deal with him?” Art gave Olab a side glance.

“Yes,” the lizard nodded. “Sorry, but this is where I leave you,”

He raised something from his belt, something the four Frogs didn’t notice him fiddling with the entire time. It looked like a glass Christmas ornament, rimmed in gold. Inside sloshed the blood of the children he had stolen. Olab murmured something unintelligible, and tossed it at his feet. The glass bulb shattered, and the blood turned into a iridescent rainbow filled with stars. The liquid raced over Olab’s body, and in the blink of an eye he was gone.

“Uh...guys?” Angela asked over the comms. “What the hell just happened?”

“Things got interesting,” Art sighed. They had learned things from this mysterious traveler. But the leader of the Frogs wasn’t sure how much it was going to help in the long run.

“So let’s go over the basics, Jordan is in here somewhere; you popped off and joined the Minutemen in order to find her forming an alliance. Assuming she’s even here that is, anything else important before we head deeper and find ourselves in a jam and a whole lot of extra surprises.” Hound Dog said judging the group who had previously been enemies beforehand, unsure of their character in all this.

”...well, they found me, specifically, but that is pretty much all the important bits,” Voyager reasoned, vaulting over the unconscious guard she just felled with a PsiBlast.

“Minutemen?” Fullbright echoed curiously. “That’s...actually not a bad name for our group. Honorable soldiers always ready to fight the corrupted system…” Still musing, she blasted open another set of double doors with two fists made of light, blinding the two guards on the other end long enough for Typhoon to slide into the room and bring them down with two quick punches.

Hound Dog snapped back. “Don’t youse go misusing the name of a historical group now, they fought for us all. If you ever go straighten up your act and set yourselves right doll that’s another story.”

“Okay, dad,” Fullbright remarked irritably.

“The schematics for this building have indicated a basement area just ahead,” the robot ninja declared, oblivious to the banter going on behind him. “It is the most secure place for an internment center in this facility. I can’t imagine it will be easy to find, but-”
Almost on cue, a metal door slid open and a man with white stripes on the familiar black armor stormed out, waving a dangerous looking rod with electricity spiking off of it at the group, a manic look in his eyes.

“You fuckers think you can storm MY prison?!?” he barked, his eyes twitching violently. “NOBODY TRIES TO TAKE PRISONERS FROM LING AND LIVES TO TE-”

Grabbing the tip of the modified stun rod, the electricity bent, pushing itself back into the arm of his attacker, “I’d be de-lighted to see you shock us!” The Warden’s arm shook as Hound Dog tore the rod from his grasp, pulling him closer with his other hand as he held out his left and attracting the heavily armored man like the magnet he now was. “Good thing about electricity, with enough practice anything is a magnet and you know what, you’d make a good shock absorber.” Flipping him over in midair Hound Dog jabbed the shock baton right down the backside of his armor where the joints connected between the cheeks where light never shined. Kicking him away with a swift change in polarity as his boot touched metal. “Enjoy sticking around up there will youse. I’m sure the police will want to question your sorry ass later. I’ll bring an ice pack I swear.” As the Warden flew toward the wall he stuck right as a fly to glue as the magnetized suit of armor he so hoped would protect him now anchored him to the walls of his own Prison.

”I suspect his ass WILL be very sorry,” Voyager remarked, tilting her head slightly. [color=MediumOrchid]”With the rest of him as well.”[/orchid]

“Erm...well,” Fullbright said awkwardly. “Let’s get in there and get Jordan out, before he somehow unsticks himself.”

Before any of them could make a move, there was a loud bang and the sound of crunching metal. Voyager deployed a weak Psiblast that threw everyone out of the way as something thundered down the hall and exploded against the opposite wall. Typhoon swore violently in Japanese.

“My arm! The baka-gajin got my arm!” Indeed, the other three looked down at the sound of Typhoon’s arm clattering to the ground, following the direction it came from and spotted another soldier, this one clad head to foot in black, fire-tinged armor plates standing at least two heads taller than any of them. There was a hiss of steam and sparking between the joints as the armored hulk raised an arm to reload the cannon bolted to its other arm, preparing another shot.

“Everyone inside!”

There was another rush of air and a thunderous boom as the four of them charged into the steel doored room, Fullbright punching the close button as she came in last.

As Hound Dog hit the floor he saw the door snap shut closing them off from Thomas the tank and his jagged armor of doom.

“That guy look like he went through a chop shop in a train yard. His chassis was all parted out from god knows where, even I’d need a good bolt to break through that.” He said that but he also knew that he was pushing himself he raised up his sleeve for but a second and sighed before rolling it down.

”More importantly, I am unsure of how we will be able to get out of here,” Voyager said, sounding worried. ”If the only way out is through that metal man…” She tapered off, which would have sounded hopeless if it hadn’t been followed by a sudden burst of very Irish sounding expletives.

“You fucker’s trying to keep me awake to get your goddamn information?” Jordan Fletcher shouted hoarsely, pressing against the bars on the cell door behind them. “For the millionth flippin’ time I am not a superhuman smuggler!” There was an elated pause as the five rescuers stared blankly at Jordan as she stared back at them, then…

”Jordan!!!” Voyager and Fullbright chorused, rushing to the bars ecstaticly. Still looking dazed, Jordan scrambled backwards as Jordan charged a Psiblast and fried the lock on the door. The impediment removed, the half-alien and the knight rushed in and nearly knocked her over with the force of the hug they planted on her.

“Whoah, fuck,” Jordan said weakly. “Uh...nice to see you too, Voyager. But who the hell are you people?”

“We babe, are the rescue team. Just need to get past Trainwiz out there who’s blocking the exit.” Hound Dog said as he watched the door as the bulking man started slamming himself against it.

“Actually,” Typhoon said, his words sounding a bit more slurred because of the damage he took. “I suspect th-that the violent action against the door is not the result of out metallic e-enemy.”

Jordan looked suspiciously at the one armed robot as Fullbright lifted her up and let her hold onto the knight’s shoulders. “There’s more of you hanging around?”

”Did Fangs and Monsterk4t make it to us?”

“I know not of their actions,” Typhoon admitted. “But one of Fang-sama’s friends wanted to ‘cause some chaos’...so I sent her a message when the initial breakin failed.” Then with another slam of the door, the hard surface buckled and the entire thing caved in, followed closely by the armored soldier tumbling down after it, its armor battered and cracking, the soldier inside of it groaning in pain.

“Well ain’t that a solution to our front burner. I say we burn rubber quickly before they send reinforcements of their own.”

”But...who did you call to help us?” Voyager asked as she and Hound Dog emerged from the jail right in front of a group of black armored Hounds. In response to that question a burst of wind picked up and the armored soldiers were blown away and scattered against the wall.

“He called me, actually,” Reisen announced, her skirt and blue hair fluttering as she hovered in the air in front of them as the wounded robot ninja followed them out, Jordan and Fullbright bringing up the rear. “Arigatou for the call, Typhoon, we haven’t had this much fun smashing up a place in a long time. Hi again, Voyager!”

”Um...hello?” Voyager responded, trying to sound friendly but only sounding confused.

“You two’ve met? Wait it wasn’t one of those weird time travel things in comics where you’ve yet to meet but one of you met the other. That’s not a thing is it?”

“Uh...not that I’m aware of,” Reisen said, giving Hound Dog a briefly suspicious look. “She seemed out of it the last time we met so maybe she just doesn’t remember. Either way, I heard you guys were out here beating up the Hounds so we wanted to help out!”
”We?”

“BUENOS DIAS PENDEJOS!”

Fullbright yelped in shock as what appeared to be a massive snake slithered its way towards them, knocking aside a soldier as it approached. Voyager prepared a defensive PsiBlast, but the snake appeared to change in front of her eyes, taking a human shape, and within seconds the great serpent had been replaced with a tall, dark-haired Indian man with glasses, about the same age as Reisen.

“Rescuers, meet Viper. Viper, meet the rescuers. No relation to the mice.”

“Good thing, then,” Viper said with a laugh. “Sorry if I spooked you a bit there, force of habit.”

“I-it’s fine, really,” Fullbright said meekly, her face a little red from embarrassment.

“Good thing my name isn’t Indiana. How about we escape this snake pit, before more of theirs come to investigate. Um. No offense.” Hound Dog said forgetting the snake lad for a moment in all of this.

“None taken,” Viper said with a quirky grin.

“Hey...wait a second...we can’t leave yet.” The rescue team looked at Jordan incredulously.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on leaving for a while,” Reisen mused. “Don’t know about the rest of you.”

“No, I mean...there’s a guy here, the one who kidnapped me,” Jordan said, before grunting in exhaustion and collapsing back onto Fullbright. “Creepy military type, they call him Gargoyle. He’s a commander in this Hounds group, kept interrogating me over this metahuman smuggling ring…”

“Ooh, one of those people,” Viper said seriously. “I know someone like that from school, he thinks people are sneaking metahumans like us into the country for some sort of takeover. Really right-wing conspiracy stuff.”

“And he beat the crap out of me when I didn’t give him an answer he liked,” Jordan said bitterly.

“Jordan…” Fullbright said quietly, the cracking in her voice betraying her emotions despite the helmet hiding the tears in her eyes.
“...and if he gets away he’s just going to find someone else and do it all over again,” Jordan finished. “Unless you stop him first.” Jordan looked between Jordan’s bruised face and Hound Dog’s grim expression, knowing in her heart what had to be done.

Taking a moment to weigh his options Hound Dog knew a man like Gargoyle needed to be stopped regardless of his own condition.“We should, we cannot let him roam free not after the trouble he’s caused.”

Solemnly, Voyager nodded in agreement, energy pulsing in her eyes as she steeled her resolve. “The Gargoyle will be brought to justice.”

“I’ll take Voyager with me, she’s likely to come regardless with how she’s acting so best we go.”

“Then me and Typhoon will get out of here with Jordan,” Fullbright declared. “And get the police if they aren’t already on the way.”
”It won’t be easy getting to the top floor, though…”

“I think between us and Fangs out there we can cause enough chaos to draw most of the guards away for you guys.” Reisen said excitedly. “Ready to cause some havoc, Vipes?”

“Alwaysssss…” Viper said, his last syllable stretching into a hiss for dramatic effect as he morphed back into the massive snake. “Let’s go impose zen on the next room!” And with that Reisen flew back through the halls of the complex, the giant snake in hot pursuit.

“Good luck, you two,” Jordan said weakly to Hound Dog and Voyager as the two remaining villains prepared to escape. “Give the Gargoyle a kick in the crotch from me.” Voyager paused suddenly at the sight of Fletcher’s confident smirk, weakened by imprisonment and torture but still defiantly visible. The half-alien had spent hours thinking of the first thing she was going to say when she saved her best friend from certain death, and now that the moment had arrived, she couldn’t think of a single one of them.

“Jordan…” Completely at a loss, the alien did the first thing that came to mind, lifting up her hand and holding her two fingers apart. “Um...live long and prosper.” Jordan stared at the gesture for what felt like hours, then at last raised her own hand to give the same salute back.

“Same to you, ya crazy Trekkie,” Jordan said. “Qapla’!”

Voyager’s weak grin blossomed into a glowing, smile. “Qapla’!”

“We all have our parts then, we should take down these guys and get home before breakfast, I’d personally like some eggs.”

”Ooh, with bacon?”

“Thick maple bacon.”

---
Immaculately clean, Mrs Patton noted as she sat in William Phister’s office; one could eat off the floors if they wanted. A silly idea she mused as she sat in the large chair and turned to eye Martel. “So.” Her gaze lingered and bored into his skull almost drilling through the man who sat before her. “Not only have you been abusing company property and hiding a civilian on the premises; I suppose calling Riley was it? Yes, calling her a civilian might not be the right word. She’s the property technically of a rival company who yes, performed highly illegal and immoral scientific procedures on. This will need to be swung properly, media’s support for her predicament. We keep her in the public eye and make sure it will be difficult for them to lay a hand on her.” Martel, who had his head in his hands the entire time Patton spoke, lifted his head to contemplate an answer, looking like he had aged ten years in the time since he came clean about his involvement with Riley.

“I’ll...admit that after all of this happened, I’m surprised you’re still willing to defend her,” Martel remarked hoarsely.
Her eyes narrowed and breathing slowed. “How else am I supposed to respond, she’s a living being. I cannot simply toss her aside because she could bring troubles. Plus I doubt Darrow Engineering would publicly admit to their seedy dealings and many infractions just to recover Riley. I already expected recourse from the Hounds so Corporate Espionage might as well come standard. However we still have you…” Taking the moment to intentionally create a long of a pause she could, once her fingers settled from rapping at the desk she continued. “We’ll need to do something about your behavior.

“At this point, I just want to make sure Riley and Jordan are out of danger,” Martel said, stoic determination etched on his face. “I will accept the responsibility of my actions when I have to, but as it stands...those two are my responsibility, and it is them I am most concerned for.”

“Good good, for as it just so..” Briley stopped as a phone in the office rang. Martel immediately glanced at his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, staring blankly at a number he didn’t recognize. Not entirely thinking clearly, he answered it, forgetting he had it on speakerphone the last time he used it.

“Heyo Doc!” Jordan Fletcher shouted hoarsely over the line. “Did you miss me?” Briley raised a curious eyebrow as Martel cracked a smile for the first time in what felt like days.

“Well, I’ll be damned…”

---

Rabbit Motors was quickly turning into a battleground. With the villains and their new friends wreaking havoc on the ground floor, the fight towards the top of the building had been relatively light as most of the foot soldiers were being drawn away to fight crazy tarantula girls, feline DJ’s, and giant snakes singing Dean Martin songs. Even then, by the time Hound Dog and Voyager had reached the top floor and met some real resistance, there was no stopping them. Whether it was determination to see justice served or just through sheer blind luck, the pair of them were working like clockwork, knocking down henchmen left and right.

”Sword guys, behind you!” Voyager launched a blast at some soldiers trying to flank Hound Dog, weaving her way from pillar to pillar in what was once a tastefully elegant foyer to dodge heavy rifle fire from another Hound trooper wearing the heavy metal armor. As she blasted away a soldier with red mixed with the black on his armor, charging at her with a blade, one of the elevators pinged, briefly revealing a small crowd of rifleman aiming their weapons at Voyager before Hound Dog turned and shocked the elevator sending it barreling back down to ground level only for it to abruptly stop slamming the goons into the ceiling and rolling in pain.

“Ground floor, goons and concussions.” Before dealing with the Red Coats charging him with swords.
“What is this? The Revolutionary War? You know my powers are electric based right?” The Hounds stopped paused and dropped their swords before pulling out simple batons. Each giving the other a look as if to say, oh shit he’s right. However for them that wasn’t enough as Hound Dog loosed a bolt their way knocking one off his feet and while they charged he had created a hammer consisting of electricity. “This is a thing too, I could totally pass for Thor with this one.” With a deft swing from the two handed hammer zapped two shocked goons who tried to block it as Hound Dog brought it down quickly with an overhead strike sending the remaining charge into the floor of the old offices and disabling the last goons. “For only I am Worthy.”

”Aw, I thought I would be….HEY!” Spotting the power armored soldier turning his ponderous weapon towards Hound Dog’s back, Voyager darted out of corner and charged with a boost of psionic speed. Dodging a steel-plated defensive punch from the soldier, the half-alien kicked off of the lowered weapon into the air and with her other foot launched a kick against the side of his head, producing a deafening clang. The man within the armor groaned audibly before the whole thing tipped over like a jenga tower and fell to the ground with a messy crash, followed shortly by Voyager touching down gently. ”Hey, looks like his face rung a….uh….what’s the thing that goes ‘clang’ like that again?”

”A bell?”

”Yes! His face rings a bell! HA!” Voyager declared, directing that last bit of laughter at the downed soldier in the armor, who merely groaned again in response.

“Punny Kid.”

”You really think so? Voyager responded, practically glowing at what she perceived as a compliment.
Hound Dog smiled, “Yeah, Youse want the honors busting this place wide open?”

”With pleasure!” Mustering up her concentration, Voyager took aim and blasted her Psibeam from her eyes right to the center of the door, easily blasting it off its hinges. The two of them quickly burst into the room to find it...quiet. It was a spacious executive office, taking up half of two floors with a balcony over the entrance and a large desk centered neatly in front of them, but the place was otherwise unadorned, save what appeared to be charts and maps tacked to the distant walls in strategic places. Voyager walked to the desk, running her hand over the knotted wood surface. ”Were...were we too late? Did he get away?”

“I’ll take a good.. Loo..” Before Hound Dog could fully respond his eyes did in fact catch something as he concentrated right out of the corner as her could spot something powering up right at them, snatching Voyager by her collar and yanking her back a greenish energy blast squarely struck where she was standing annihilating the desk. “There ain’t any other Clydes around so you must be the main man.” Hound Dog said with a seriousness in his voice.

There was a response in the form of groaning metal and electrical pumps as Voyager turned to look at what had to be their final enemy. It was big; bigger then the soldiers in powered armor that they had fought. Maybe even as big as the monster with the anchor she once fought. It was shaped like a man, covered in the same fire-blackened metal but with tubes snaking across the chest, pulsing with some inhuman form of life. Stepping forward with thundering booms on the overhead balcony, the monstrous machine’s eyes glowed a sinister emerald green as it looked down on them, its great arm held out to aim its weapon at them.

“So...you’ve come at last,” the great machine spoke, the man’s voice no doubt amplified from within the monstrous contraption. “I knew once I got close to uncovering your plan, you would try to silence me. I must say I am...sorry to disappoint.” The eyes seemed to glow brighter as similar green energy particles flecked off of the weapons on the arms. Voyager’s own eyes glowed purple as she stared it down.

”You must be the Gargoyle! She shouted up at him in defiance. ”We’re here to bring you to justice for your crimes! The machine laughed in response, a laugh that would have sounded cold and inhuman even without the steel between them.

“Justice? What is just about the genocide of the human race?” the Gargoyle sneered. “What is just about seeing the slaughter of men, women and children while filthy inhumans like you get celebrated for instigating it?”

Taking the time while Gargoyle monologued, Hound Dog send a weak bolt of electricity down through the wires in a nearby outlet sending a jolt to the upper floor gaining charge along the way. “You should be careful you don’t miss something important there while you spill your evil plans. Like say a few thousand volts.” The bolt smacked into the armor and dissipated with a slight burst of energy, barely enough to cause the machine to flinch. It turned towards Hound Dog, a sinister dark chuckle emanating from within.

“Weak...like the rest of your kind,” the Gargoyle declared. “You don’t seem to understand, do you? You have already lost. The Hounds will be the saviors of humanity, and in the end...you will be…”

Energy coursed through the machine as it rose to its full height and the weapons charged up. The eyes burned with a demonic fury, illuminating a hideous steel face as wings emerged from its back.

“...EXTERMINATED.”

“Yeah, this. Is gaudy. You guys all get your gear at the same place? Black and Uninspired!?”

”And very deadly! SCATTER!”
The two heroes dove out of the way as another burst of green energy incinerated the ground where they were just seconds previous. As they regained their balance, the Gargoyle jumped down from the balcony, landing with a boom like a cannon blast and cracking the tiles beneath its ponderous legs.

”Big and scary is nothing new to me!” Voyager sounded off defiantly, lobbing a PsiBlast to get the mechanical monster’s attention. ”Show me your worst, ugly!” The PsiBlast impacted an inch before hitting the machine proper, turning green and dissipating on an invisible barrier with a static crackle. The Gargoyle took aim with a single energy attack, and Voyager threw up a PsiBarrier to-

”Wha….what?”

A feeling of intense emptiness washed over her as she tumbled backwards, muting her senses to the outside world as she tried to get her bearings again. She remembered the green energy blast connecting, that sudden draining feeling...and her PsiBarrier shattering like a glass plate. ”My...my PsiBarrier! Nothing ever shattered it like that before…

“It seems the gem does work, then,” the Gargoyle mused, taking aim again. “This will be easier than expected.”

“That does not bode well.” Hound Dog said as he readied another attack a blast powerful enough to cause a severe crackling sound as the lighting charged the air around him. “Hope you like music.” Hound Dog said as he took out a CD and launched it from his arm using the length to give it more speed. One of his signature moves creating a railgun capable of exceeding mach speeds. “Lighting doesn’t work so let’s see you stop a mach 1 greatest hits of Bieber.”

Before Gargoyle could respond a disk collided with his armor sending shrapnel and bits of his own protective suit flying. If he wasn’t angry before he was more furious now; turning with his eyes on fire he contained a burning madness inside that he was about to unleash. “I finally get to test this thing out and you scuff it! If you were any smaller of a pest I’d have trouble finding ways to mount your ass on my wall.”

“WHooa whooa, hold on there ass bandit. I like my butt right where it is.”

Still a little dizzy from the other attack, Voyager moved to dodge another blast from the Gargoyle’s arm cannon, keeping her away as he trained his sights on what was clearly a more dangerous foe. Looking around the room, her sight drifted to the overhead balcony the machine had emerged from. Unlike the first floor, it had been nearly filled with construction equipment on the side where the machine was now facing them. Her mind working furiously, she saw the floor was sagged slightly where the Gargoyle had leapt from. If it got a little more damage, then maybe…

“Pathetic!” the Gargoyle spat at Voyager as he effortlessly dodged a cutting PsiBeam. “Even when your weapons are useless you are unable to aim them!”

”I don’t know...I think I hit exactly where I wanted…”

There was a crunching sound as the support beam she cut through gave way, showering the mecha with old equipment. Swearing violently as the flotsam bounced off the armor, a heavy steel beam caught the arm of the machine, prying aside the plating to reveal a pulsing electrical tube, sparking slightly as the machine flailed around.

Taking this chance to turn the tables around Hound Dog unleashed a direct attack against the electrical systems of the suit as he reached for the exposed wires, blood dripping from his arm in a slow but steady stream. “Let’s see what you got in there.” Short Circuiting the arm cannon as sparks flew and the thing looked about ready to explode. Gargoyle knowing he needed to free himself jettisoned the damaged cannon in a bid to loose his arm from the weight it was now under. Creating enough space he ripped his trapped arm free and grabbed Hound Dog by the throat throwing him into the floor at his feet as he stepped onto his back inching his foot deeper into him.

His other working cannon aimed to Hound Dog’s back he prepared. “How about you feel the burn, for a change?” The gem on his back channeled energy to the cannon mounted on his arm and spewed out a green lighting burning away at Hound Dog’s clothes as an electrical fire washed over his burning leather jacket slowly revealing his charred back from overuse of his own powers. “Haha! I’d never expect you to look like a overcooked hot dog I should have brought mustard to rub into those wounds of yours!”

”NOOOOO!”

With a Psi-infused burst of energy, Voyager did the one thing she could think to do in this situation and went for a flying tackle, knocking the machine off of Hound Dog and wrapping around its neck, desperately battering the head of the great metal beast with a flurry of punches. Her Psi Barriers not working meant she was essentially using her bare fists against hardened steel, but she kept going, ignoring the pain in her hands until one of the wings swung down and caught her beneath the chin, knocking her to the ground.

“Pathetic….inhuman...beast!” the Gargoyle spat, sounding slightly disoriented. Voyager got to her feet in an instant but the Gargoyle had charged forward, swiping at her with its good arm, infusing it with a blast of green energy. Voyager could do nothing as she slammed into the thick glass overlooking the city. Tasting blood in her mouth, she tried to move again but the metal grip closed around her neck again, choking her.

“Metahumans,” the Gargoyle said derisively, lifting Voyager off the ground. “Trying to lord over us. Trying to enslave our sons and daughters. Trying to play GOD!” He punctuated the last word by slamming Voyager into the glass, sending cracks across the great surface. The half-alien felt something in her chest snap as she was lifted away and slammed into it again, spreading the cracks further.

“You are not GODS!” the Gargoyle roared, slamming Voyager into the glass at the end of every sentence. “You are WEAK! You are FILTH! You are INHUMAN! You are INFERIOR!” Feeling nothing but agony, Voyager hung their helplessly as the Gargoyle drew back the fist holding her.

“And you….ARE…..[b][i]DEAD[/b][/i]!”

And with a tremendous shattering, the Gargoyle pitched Voyager through the glass windows, where she hung in the air for just a second before plunging towards the ground and vanishing from sight.

Still Hound Dog pulled himself up, his back not quite as agile as it should be; likely something broke but he didn’t have time to worry about his own pain or the lack of feeling thereof.“Voyager! Voy!” With another body slam from Gargoyle Hound Dog was pinned against the wall arms held up by the mechanical menace. “Oh, little close there pal, hadn’t even had our first date.”

“You taint this Earth and our PEOPLE! It’s about time you too were REMOVED!”

Coughing Hound Dog replied. “You know I can’t feel anything right. Or has the fact that I haven’t screamed yet after all you’ve done not sparked any remaining brain cells to fire off. These powers, that you call filth. They gave this cripple the ability to walk again. And with them I’ll fry your ass.” As Hound Dog began to charge up he could hear his arms cracking as the weight of the machine pressed firmly against the wall as he eyed the window that Voyager was tossed out of. “I got something for you.”

“Another feeble attempt to shock me!?”

”Something like that…”

No. It couldn’t be. The Gargoyle turned his machine around in disbelief.

It was Voyager. Floating gracefully in the air outside of the window. Surrounded by a purple aura that shimmered and danced like a purple flame, she raised her hands up, revealing the shattered remains of the inhibitors she wore on her wrists.

”I’m...surprised too,” Voyager admitted as she drifted ethereally back into the room. ”I never tried to use my powers to fly before.” The Gargoyle bellowed furiously as he swung around to aim his cannon at her, and as the energy charged up, Hound Dog found his eyes drawn to the path the electricity powering the machine took. He saw how it all connected to a well-protected knot on the back, a knot that the unusual green energy flowed from, a knot with a big glowing target in the shape of a gemstone connecting it to the inner workings of the machine.

“Know the best way to deal with a Gordian Knot? You cut through it!” His hand erupted into a pure fist of electricity as he jammed it into Gargoyle’s back and pushed a coin he held between his fingers. With that the coin sliced it’s way through the inner workings of the armor and sliced right through the gemstone in the back. “All yours, kid.”

“No….NO….!” the Gargoyle cried, his anger turning to panic as the machine began to shudder involuntarily. Hound Dog slid to the ground as the machine released its grip and stumbled forward, only to collapse under the weight of one leg as the hydraulics shorted out. One of the wings collapsed like a broken limb under its own weight as the tubes running across the chest began to leak jets of pressurized steam. The man inside the machine could be heard swearing at the barely functional controls as the metal plating bent and cracked under the pressure of so many delicate bits flying out of control. A geyser of steam erupted from the wounded arm, popping the whole limb off like a cork in a wine bottle. In a last act of defiance, the deformed metal beast raised a shaky arm to point its last weapon at Voyager.

“Mutant scum!” the Gargole bellowed, his volume not enough to match the rising whine of the motor inside beginning to overload. “You deformed...inhuman...what do you think you are!?!”

”Me?” Voyager asked, clenching her fists in preparation for the final blow. ”Well...I’m not human, if that’s what you mean. And I’m not a monster either. I’ve never hurt anyone because they were different then I was. Even when people like you gave me a reason to be afraid, I’m still not going to. That’s what monsters do.” Voyager leaned forward, energy flowing around her, as the wretched machine’s weapon drew on whatever power it had left for a last stand.

”I am not a monster. I fight monsters, monsters who hurt people. Monsters like you. Because that’s what heroes do.”

“...FILTHY MUTANT!”

”I am not a mutant!”

With a burst of blinding speed, Voyager launched into the air directly at the mechanical monster, the weapon firing one last shot off to the side before finally cooking off and sending an energy feedback ripping through the unstable machine.

”I AM VOYAGER!!!”

Voyager’s Psionic energy cleaved through the machine like a scalpel picking up the man inside and tearing through the back before the machine erupted in a fireball, sending metal shrapnel flying everywhere and blowing the glass and about half the roof clean off the building. As the smoke and flames cleared, a purple barrier flickered as it finished protecting the three figures underneath it. Dazed by the conflagration, Hound Dog looked to his right to see Voyager kneeling on the chest of a bloody and battered man in a pilot’s suit, his stony features bearing an unnerving resemblance to the late robotic menace. Breathing heavily, the man called the Gargoyle looked at the pair of them before realizing that the half-alien Voyager was pinching the side of his neck.

“Wha...what are you doing?”

”Uhhh….Vulcan neck pinch,” Voyager admitted meekly, smiling before drawing her fist back. ”I suppose I am not there yet. Oh well, I am a fast learner!” And before the Gargoyle could even react he was clocked alongside his head, knocking him out cold.

“Ha, Trekkie. Not, ugh, not bad. But I think a few things are broken. Can’t fully tell. I can’t move my legs right now though, thinking they’re pretty spent.” Hound Dog could feel a difficulty in his breath and he could taste blood on his tongue. “No. Pretty sure my body’s reached its limit. Hard to tell unlike you I don’t feel pain and also unlike you I can’t tell when my ribs are broke. But well I taste blood so that’s not right.”

”Well...not feeling pain or broken ribs sounds pretty good right about now,” Voyager said, feeling her chest tenderly. ”Ooof...least I can still walk.” Limping over to where Hound Dog was lying down, she moved to help him up before noticing the charred skin on his arms. ”Oh dear...that will need a lot of bandaids, I guess…”

“Sure, and ice cream. Could go for something coffee flavored. Though that’s a side effect from using my powers, like overheating.”

”Ooh, my powers can do that too,” Voyager said, not sure if her lightheadedness or unpleasant nosebleed was the result of the fight or her own powers. ”Ice cream it is then. I like sherbert myself!” Smiling in spite of the pain, she briefly considered the logistics of bringing both of them downstairs before realizing Hound Dog had nothing on his upper body anymore. Thinking quickly, she ‘borrowed’ the pilot jacket the Gargoyle was using and tucked it around his shoulders before lifting him to his feet and letting him lean on her own shoulders. Grabbing onto the Gargoyle’s foot with her free hand, she began the laborious march towards the back, the Gargoyle’s head bumping along the rough and broken flooring.

”I hope that explosion...did not take out the elevators…” Voyager huffed as she brought the two of them into the lobby again. ”I’ll probably...cry if I have to...take the stairs…”

”Yeah, a fitness instructor would love this place; all stairs.”

They both laughed weakly. It hurt to laugh. But it was a good kind of hurt.

Epilogue

----

“I thought I heard thunder earlier, you’re saying that was you guys?”

”Yes, a giant robot exploded! Took out most of the roof, I think.”

“That’s fucking dope. Man, I miss all the cool stuff…”

”Does that mean you missed me?”

“Nope!”

Jordan grinned up at Voyager to indicate she was joking as the half-alien pushed her wheelchair through the sterile hospital corridors. She could think of doing nothing but smiling back, she was so happy to see her friend again. ”So you’re taking me to see the electric Elvis guy, right?” Jordan asked as she turned a corner. “Hound Dog, that was it. How did you two even meet?”

”I think he found me, and we just sort of worked together,” Voyager mused as she counted off room numbers.

”I am sure he would want to know you got out okay...here it is!”

Eying the TV old taped recording of Happy Days played on the screen as the Doctor scolded Hound Dog again. “Everytime I see you, it’s broken bones; infections and burns. I told you this line of work was dangerous but no, don’t listen to your Doctor!”

“Yeah, cool your jets Eddie. It worked out, saved the day and stopped some nasty guys along the way.”

“It’s Edward. Look, rest up. And you’ll be out in a few months, maybe less. You always heal up pretty quick.”

“Candygram!” Jordan called out as she was wheeled into the open door by Voyager. “I owe a big-ass chocolate bar to Hound Dog for busting me out!”

“Hey hey. We got guests. Hows you twos doing tonight, feeling better now that you ain’t dinged up?”

“Oh yeah we bounce back fast, cause we’re just awesome like that,” Jordan gloated, flexing in her seat.

”She is not wrong,” Voyager said happily. ”I hope you are recovering as well?

“Eh, doing alright. Few broken bones is all, and ribs. Nearly punctured a lung doc said I was this close to death.” Hound Dog paused for a moment as he struggled to lift his arm and make a gesture. “This close.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing. Make the vist quick so he can get some rest.” Edward Winters said as he left the room.

“I’d um. Shake your hand but I can’t get up. Names Sinclaire Adams. And I ain’t nothing, but a Hound Dog.”

“Haha, clever,” Jordan said genuinely. “I’m Jordan Fletcher, sadly don’t have a cool nickname yet, but not for lack of trying!”

”Oh...and I’m Riley,” Voyager said with a big smile. ”I don’t think I told you yet.”

“Oh, here you guys are.”

Riley turned around to look at a dark haired girl strut into the room, a mild look of annoyance on her face and a paper bag tucked under her arm. “I went to get some sandwiches and you guys left. Luckily Voyager there was easy to follow.”

“I figured you’d be able to catch up, you’re more clever than I am,” Jordan said with a wink. “Oh Sinclaire, this is my cupcake Jane Sitko.”

“Do you have to call me that?” Jane asked, turning slightly red.

”It is a cute nickname,” Riley commented.

“Calling your gal cupcake, that’s sweet. Say. You seem familiar have we met?”

“Uh, I don’t recall...” Jane said in an offhand tone, not entirely meeting his eyes when he asked the question. “Oh, by the way, the news just dropped that the thugs involved in the Rabbit Motors raid were all Hounds. There’s been a mass arrest and everything.”

”Does that include the Gargoyle man?”

“Yup, and he even has a name. Wilhelm Krauss.” Jane recited the name with visible distaste. “Some sort of general who got discharged for his crazy conspiratorial views, from what I heard. The guy even sounds like a wannabe Nazi.”

“Shame I didn’t bring my hatchet. There’s a lot you can do with a hatchet and a Nazi.”

“I even heard a slew of villains joined in the attack too,” Jane went on, with a pointed look at Voyager. “The police didn’t catch them, but I heard that they all got out safely and relatively unharmed. If they were working with someone else there, I’m sure they would want to know that.” Voyager smiled and winked at Jane, who subtly winked back, which only left Jordan more puzzled.

Outside of the room where Hound Dog rested, the clean halls of the Pacific Point Hospital were flooded with carts as Doctors and Nurses went about their day. Briley had rushed down with Martel in tow to ensure the well being of the two heroes that had saved not only Riley but Jordan as well. Martel was more worried about his charge Riley then his own position as Briley thought he’d be keeping a brisk pace until they found the right room. “Mr. Sinclaire, Mrs. Riley. And Mrs. Jordan and company. I am pleased to see you well, even after your significant injuries Mr. Sinclaire.”

“Let’s cut the mr, I ain’t old enough to be using that yet. Just call me Hound Dog as usual.”

“Fair enough.” Briley said in response as she looked to Martel then back to Jordan and the girl besides her. “I suppose this is fine it won’t be some huge secret but after everything Martel has hidden there will be a punishment and demotion from his station.” Martel looked particularly stoney-faced at the announcement as Riley gasped in shock.

”Noooo, you cannot punish him!” Voyager wailed, forcing her way across the room and pulling the doctor into a desperate hug. ”He does a lot of good things and is really smart and other things!”

“That’s...kind of you…” Martel gasped out, nearly being choked by the force of the half-aliens desperate hug.

“Yeah, he only did that stuff because I brought her over,” Jordan mumbled, staring at her own knees. “If you’re gonna fire anyone, you should fire me…”

Briley eyed the room deliberately keeping the tension high. “I am afraid I cannot, while you may have brought Riley to Martel, he hid her from the company and inappropriately used resources not belonging to him. Therefore I am re-assigning him to S.P.A.R.K or the Special Power Applications, Research, and Knowledge division. Where he is to oversee the growth and safety of Riley alongside other heroes who may need specialized technology to function safely. If we are to unite against the Hounds, we will need to ensure they have everything they need to operate to the best of their abilities. S.T.R.I.K.E may be gone, but there will still be others who support Heroes.”

There was a short pause before Riley broke the silence with an excited squeal, hugging Martel even harder.

“I...well, thank you,” Martel gasped, looking rather shell-shocked at the announcement. “I’m honored that you would give me that position, ma’am.”

“They totally thought of the acronym before the name,” Jordan said as an aside to Jane.

“There will be a pay decrease of course, but you’ll have access to technology from every villain and hero we acquire it from. Ways to deal with problematic threats and cutting edge science to understand how powers work. I’ll work you to the bone, but I expect great things Doctor Martel.”

“You’ll...certainly get my best, ma’am…” Martel said, trying to breath in spite of Riley’s vice of a hug.

“This is nice and all. But um. I can’t see the TV now. Anyways I will likely need a new jacket once I get out of this bed, something to help with my powers. Mrs. Patton you seem like a nice lady, even after what’s happened you haven’t thrown Riley or her friends under the bus so you have my attention and aid. Well. In a few months that is.”

”Ooh!” Riley piped up, letting go of Martel so suddenly that he fell over before she bounced over to Hound Dog’s bedside. ”Does that mean we can still be friends and stuff, fighting bad guys and evil people?”

“You’re a sugar rush of a candy striper you know that, but yeah. Guess we’ll be teammates if you need it.”

Riley was so happy she started floating in the air, much to Martel’s surprise.

Home at last. I was starting to believe this night would never end. I have been shot at or almost shot at way too many times this evening, first by that metahuman who interrupted the charity event and then the Hounds trying to kill me and Slipstream, the speedster girl I just met tonight. Or rather last night, since it is already a few hours past midnight. Anyways, I’m tired, hungry, and in a dire need of a shower. But I can’t fall asleep in clothes that had been drenched with blood and sweat! But the real question is do I eat first?

While I contemplated this ‘problem,’ so to speak, I cracked open the skylight window of my apartment. I found that this way, as opposed to one of my side windows (or God forbid, my front door), provides an entrance obscured from a bystander’s curious eye, especially at night. Once the window was opened, I entered my apartment on a web strand just like a spider descending to the floor from a ledge. I made sure that my landing was soft so that I would not disturb my neighbor below me. With one final yank on a webline connected to skylight window, I was finally within the safe confines of my home.

I decided the first thing on my to-do list was get myself out of this costume. I tiptoed over to my closet, side stepping around some dirty laundry spread out over my bedroom floor. When I slide open my closet door, I was half surprised that the dress that I wore to the charity event earlier that evening was hanging up before my eyes. I guess that meant my decoy that Athena conjured made it back, although I didn’t see any other signs of her.

After pushing the dress to one side, I began searching for something comfortable to wear. I finally settled on a grey t-shirt that I “borrowed” from Will. While the shirt was a little oversized for my boyfriend, it still had sentimental value to him since it was ’08 NFC Champions shirt when the Cardinals went to the Super Bowl. I then pulled out one of the yoga pants that Athena had refashioned so that it could fit my spideresque lower body.

Now for the tricky part. Normally, I would just use my power-nullifying band to swap out my superheroine costume for my civilian threads. However, I don’t know where my costume goes when it gets swapped out. That’s definitely on my list of questions for Athena whenever I see her next. Since I used it quite a bit this night, I suppose I should probably throw it into the wash. Honestly, the only difficult part of taking off my costume is when I have to remove it from my spider-half. I can pull off the human-half of my costume like a regular shirt, while my boots (if you could even call them that) come off like four pairs of socks, although my hind legs do require some flexibility on my part. It’s just I cannot easily get leverage for pulling my costume off my spider abdomen. The only option that I have found was to attach some weblines on the posterior of my costume, tie the other end onto something sturdy, and gently pull it off.

Once I finally pulled off my costume, I covered myself back up with the grey t-shirt I had retrieved from my closet. Before that, however, I also removed the two bras I had been wearing. While it does help hide my secret identity, after a few hours wearing a bra that uses some technological mumbo-jumbo to make my bust appear smaller, the compression effect starts to get on your nerves. Then I gathered up whatever dark color clothes that were lying on the floor and shoved them, along with my Arachne costume, into my washing machine.

Clothes cleaned? Check. Now to tell my stomach to shut up. I darted straight towards my refrigerator and acquired the tub of strawberry ice cream from the freezer. After I found the ice cream scoop in one of my kitchen drawers, I dished out several scoops into a bowl. Before I returned the ice cream carton back into the fridge, I added few more scoops, just to make sure I got my fill.

Two down. Two to go. I grazed on my strawberry ice cream while I quietly walked over to my apartment’s bathroom, making sure that the tapping of my eight legs would not disturb my neighbor below. But when I entered the bathroom, I peered at the bathtub, then at my shower, then down at my arachnid abdomen. There was no way I was going to fit my spider-half without being incredibly uncomfortable. I already knew the shower was out of the picture, but I surprisingly have never tried to fit into my nice tub.

I continued to munch on my ice cream while I contemplated on what I was going to do. In the end, I decided that I needed to activate my power-nullifier. Sure, I would have to remain in my drider form for a few hours in the morning, but it was a sacrifice I had to make. As the tub’s basin filled with warm water, I finished up my bowl of ice cream. Once the water’s temperature was to my liking, I slid into the tub after I turned on my power-nullifier.

Considering how my night had went, I probably should feel fortunate that I can have a belly full of ice cream and can enjoy a heated bath after facing two near-death experiences. Things could have gone down way worse, not only for me, but also for Slipstream and Chris’ girlfriend. I can’t quite put my finger on her name. Anyways, now I have three things on my list checked off. Sleep is the last thing on the list. I just have to make sure I don’t dose off in the tub.

---

Kensei wandered through the streets of Pacific Point. He had heard rumors that there was a joroguma at large within this American city. Whenever Kensei was on the hunt for supernatural beings, especially those which are particularly apt at remaining undetected to humans. In these situations, Kensei’s most valuable asset is the Staff of Birog, an item that he had acquired many ages ago. Normally, Kensei would keep the dangerous and valuable items that he had acquired on his journeys under lock and key. Nevertheless, there are some that are safe enough for his use. The Staff of Birog allows its wielder to detect and follow supernatural beings and items.

His wild goose chase for this joroguma finally led the legendary Japanese warrior to a gated apartment complex that, from his sources, was reserved for the models of a men’s magazine called Viera. Kensei was not at all surprised that a joroguma would be drawn to this sort of occupation. This was almost too easy.

Once Kensei was out of sight, he activated the tracking abilities of the Staff of Birog. However, the readings given of by the mystic item shocked the samurai warrior. There was only a weak magical presence here. Yet, this was definitely the epicenter of the energy. Kensei was puzzled by this. The staff would have given him a different signal if a juroguma happened to inhabit the premises, but was absent at the moment. This was different.

Was Kensei wrong about his suspensions? He knew for a fact that there was an individual like a joroguma among the Pax Metahumana terrorists. But maybe this was just a case of misidentification.

Therefore, Kensei jotted down the address of the apartment complex and then departed. He still had plenty of time to investigate this mystery.

Zoë idly fussed at the hem of her jeans in the dying light of the California evening. She had been waiting for an awfully long time on this roof, and while she never felt the heat, the triple digit temperatures were beginning to take their toll on her accoutrements. Her foot stuck for a moment as she lifted it to examine her sneaker, which had the unfortunate composition of rubber that had allowed them to melt to the tin roof she was sitting on. She hissed out a string of vulgar French in annoyance. She may have bought them as cheap shoes for doing this job in, but she had expected that she would be the one to melt them, not the sun. This would be yet another crime to be avenged against the days targets.

Across the street from the roof she occupied was, ostensibly, a distribution warehouse for a low-level computer parts manufacturer in China. The beige exterior of the three story building didn't give anything away, and one could assume they rented out spare space if they had it to other companies. Zoë, however, had uncovered information that this was a Hounds operation, and her own unique ability to scout most places being halted by some interference material in the outer walls only served to confirm this. So she had perched outside, with a pair of sunglasses and in a non-descript tee shirt and jeans, waiting to see what happened. That had been last week. As she had learned, today was the "meeting day", when all of their operatives and informants and facilitators of horror would all gather in the building for their monthly intelligence briefing, and to clap each other on the back for their atrocities.

Two of them would be missed today. She had encountered them just as the had begun pouring gasoline over the body of a teenaged boy they had obviously beaten to death. It had been late at night, a parking lot no one had used, and even she had only been passing by on her way through on foot. No one had heard the boys cries for help, and he had died scared and alone, and now they were getting rid of the evidence of their crime, excepting that they had painted huge bloody letters in their typical fashion around the boy.

It had taken several hours to get the information she wanted out of them, and they had been incapable of moving or seeing by the time she had left. If they had lived, she didn't care.

Now, as the last of their cronies filed in from the city, she made her way over to the side of the building she was on, where a ladder had granted her access to the roof in the first place. Upon reaching the ground, she activated her 'disguise' and headed for the front door of the Hounds place, mentally keeping her anger as far down as possible. She would not be able to infiltrate the place if she gave herself away with an errant heat wave. Of course, she still had yet to figure out a way to know what others were seeing when she was projecting her disguise, but at least it was better than guessing what might not arouse their suspicions.

Passing through the front door, she noted that even the front desk was empty and mentally cursed. Cameras were a weak spot, and one she didn't have a subtle counter to, but thankfully no one was around to witness as she tested her phasing on the nearby wall. Still blocked somehow, though only the wall, which means she could still use it to hide. Glancing around in the front area, she noted three doors. One, flanked by corkboards full of memos, was obviously a staff room or office. Another was clearly a bathroom, which meant the third was the one she was looking for. No security devices barred her way as she pushed the portal open.

The other side was the open warehouse area, and it was packed with people. Most had at least donned an armband to show their loyalties. Three men were standing on a series of crates set up as an elevated stage, and much of the place was darkened to highlight them. With no one paying attention to her, she slipped into an unobserved corner and phased herself so she could slip as close as possible to the stage. Her plan demanded that she be able to grasp the crowd's attention. As she moved, she took in the crowd. Some were day laborers and working class young folk. Others had the look of middle class business types. Police and military postures were evident throughout much of the crowd, that stiff-backed, never-quite-out-of-parade-rest stance. Nothing like she secretly hoping for: some clear delineation that made sense of all the seething hatred for metahumans. No key. Just the same sort of mindset that made racism and sexism as prevalent as they were these days.

Two younger men were setting up some sort of free standing projector screen on the jury-rigged stage, in front of which stood what seemed to be the leader of this cell, speaking with two subordinates. Unlike a good portion of the crowd, he wore the standard black fatigues the Hounds seemed to favour, and had a heavy pistol at his hip. The two he spoke with had only the same, but carried odd-looking assault rifles and wore body armour and balaclavas as well. Others like them were scattered around, the permanent detail and probably the strike force for this group. They, along with the leader, would have to be dealt with.

Zoë's breath caught in her throat. She had been thinking all day about what this job would entail. She had hurt and even killed people before, but this was well beyond the pale for her. Most of these people, if she had observed the group dynamic correctly, would die tonight. Some might try to flee, but she couldn't allow them to. They would simply carry even more zealotry with them when they formed their own groups, and fuel the fire of hate. Either she convinced them here and now that they were wrong or she burnt the entire branch down root and stem. There were no other options with fanatics like these. What this might do to her moral balance she wasn't sure, but that damage was probably already done. Now it was simply time to cauterize the wound.

She moved onto the stage, unphasing with her fingers through the triggers of the men's assault rifles, and shoulder checked them out into the crowd as hard as she could, while burning the straps for the guns so they stayed with her instead of being dragged with the men. Shout and cries of alarm went up as she appeared, but they were mostly angry and not frightened. She spun on her heel and snapped a kick into the main target's sternum, adding a blast of flame that ignited his clothing and sent him reeling, buying her time to adjust the rifles so that she could fire them. Which she did, directly at the men now charging the stage and aiming their own at her. There was no kick, and almost no sound, as jets of hot light punched into them, leaving scorch marks on their armour but otherwise having no effect.

"Stupid freak," she heard behind her as two arms seized either of hers. The screen crew, she thought. "You think we would make armour that our new rifles could be used against?"

More men assembled. Most of the crowd stood just outside of a semi-circle of soldiers, all pointing their odd light guns at her. The leader, which she noted suddenly looked more middle aged than he had after she had broken his authority and presence, walked around in front of her. She smiled, while he sneered.

"Well, looks like we can officially ring in the meeting with the disposal of a piece of trash," he called out to the crowd. They cheered their response. "Any last words, mutant, before we cleanse the world of your taint?"

Zoë's smile widened, as the air temperature began to climb extremely rapidly. The man's eyes widened and he stepped aside and shouted for the men to open fire. Of course, while her clothes suffered, she knew from firing them that they would have no effect on her at all, being light and heat based weapons, so she did nothing but laugh as the two men holding her scurried back away from her.

"You small minded fools! You build laser weapons and armour, you organise in a way that would be enviable to most, and what do you use it for? All of this hatred, what does it do for you?" She called out the question to the whole crowd. Several had begun moving for the steel doors, only to find them unbearably hot and starting to glow.

The leader snarled his response. "We'll purging the world of filth like you."

"Oho!" Zoë laughed again as the air around her shimmered with a heat haze. "Filth like me? I was born this way, no fault of mine! I can use fire the same way others are born with long legs or blonde hair! You are just an old evil in a new skin."

She watched almost idly as he grabbed his pistol and drew it. As it moved up to point at her she heated it swiftly and mercilessly. His hand was seared within a second, but he managed to drop it at his feet before the ammunition exploded inside. The shrapnel flew everywhere, though she was unharmed. He took a chunk of twisted metal to the leg and dropped to one knee.

"You are a brave man, it seems." The heat had gotten to the point where the crates she was standing on had begun to blacken. "But your bravery is twisted by your hatred and the world suffers for it. I will not let the forces my grandfather fought come back to haunt him in his retirement. This stops here."

"You can't stop us! We are saving humanity!" The voice from the crowd was echoed several times. Zoë wheeled away from the man formerly in charge and glared at them.

"Saving humanity? What humanity have you saved? You kill children for being born different from you! You have let yourselves become monsters, and you cheer yourselves on because people like him have convinced you that people like me are not human!" Her finger jabbed out at the man, then swept the crowd, causing many to cringe and flinch away despite her not doing anything with it but point. "You fear me now, but if you saw me on the street, you would have no idea I am anything other than a girl! You can shut off your compassion so casually!"

Suddenly, flames burst forth from crates all over the warehouse. The doors slagged suddenly, but the walls around them were now alight. "See now what it means to have compassion that could save you so closed! Any of you who survive tonight, remember this: If any of your organisation are still inside this city within forty-eight hours, I will come and burn you out of every nest, every hole, every single hiding spot! I will not rest until the meat is charred from the whole of your rotten group!"

---

Zoë walked casually into her own lair, flopped through the couch, then remembered to phase herself back into the physical world and gingerly sat down, this time. Her skin was bare, covered in soot, and she knew she smelled of burnt wood, but no one else ever came here without her knowing about it, so she didn't care. She picked up the remote, turned on the television, and flipped idly through the stations for a while. In the back of her mind, she knew that her people were now unloading the crates of weapons and armour and other military goods she had found earlier and carefully kept from damaging. Soon, she would have the resources to actually start making a name for herself, but for now, she had to stay as quiet as possible, barring excursions to hunt down the terrorists.

The upcoming move tomorrow would make her more secure, but she was still financially dependent on her mercenary work. As well, if she admitted it to herself, she enjoyed the mercenary life. But the world had to change, and if she had to be the spark to start the inferno, then so be it. She would make sure the whole world knew it was her who started it.

Ever since Slipstream and Arachne took down the Hounds of Humanity’s secret base just outside of Pacific Point, the speedster hadn’t been able to sit still. The things that she had seen inside of that hellish place were forever burned into her brain. The meta humans locked in cages, resigned to their fates, awaiting their executions. The looks renewed hope on their faces when the two super powered women came to their rescue, and the bodies of those that they weren’t in time to save haunted her every waking moment, as well as her dreams.

So she ran.

She ran up and down the California coast. By her count, she had stopped three bank robberies, seven muggings, two gas station robberies, and even a suicide attempt at the Golden Gate Bridge. And while it helped keep her mind off of the horrors that she had witnessed. However, she kept at it, looking for people to save, looking for criminals to stop. To Slipstream, each victim wore the face of one of the metas who had been locked away in that pit, and each criminal wore the black body armor that had become synonymous with the terror organization. However, nothing seemed to ease her mind.

So she kept running

She ran from Mexicali to Portland, then back.

Yet, the images that had been burned into her brain refused to fade.

So she ran faster.

She ran so fast and so far that she had completely lost track of where she was. The cityscapes merged with woodland forests, which suddenly transformed into the vast sand dunes of the desert in less than a blink of an eye. The entire world stood still as she raced up and down the Pacific Coast, trying to outrun the ghosts of what she had seen. People and cars faded from view as she zipped along the streets and freeways, her focus not in the here and now, but on the ifs and could have beens.

Then something caught her attention in the distance. Hovering in the air just a dozen of so feet off the ground was what looked to be a man. At first she thought that her eyes were playing tricks on her, but as she got closer to the blue and silver clad man, as her eyes were drawn to this impressive figure who’s billowing cape somehow made him more imposing, she realized that it was no trick of the light, it was no mirage…It was him. However, why he was hovering just feet off of the ground in her direct path was a mystery. So she did what anyone would do in this situation…

She stopped running.

“Hi.” She said sheepishly as she looked up to meet his gaze. She figured that given her chosen career path, she’d eventually cross paths with him, but she never thought that in a million years he’d be the one to search her out. She had seen him on TV, she’d read about his exploits over the last several years, hell…everyone had. But standing here with him floating over her gave her a whole new perspective. Even as he hovered over her silently, she realized that all those stories and the news footage didn’t do him justice. Even without saying a word he had a commanding presence that was in all honesty, awe inspiring.

“I’ve been meaning to swing by sooner, but things have been a bit hectic.” Icon said nonchalantly. “When I head about a speedster in Pacific Point, I wondered if you were one of the twins.” he explained.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Slipstream said apologetically.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I heard about what you and Arachne did with the Hounds. You saved a lot of people. You’ve been doing good work from what I’ve seen. Keep it up.”

Slipstream perked up for a moment as she listened to Icon’s praise, but then she remembered the victims that she couldn’t save at the Hounds’ secret base, and she lowered her head.

“I’m sure that there are a bunch of people who would say the opposite.” She said meekly.

“Sorry?” Icon asked, not sure what she meant.

“We were too late. I was too late. They had already killed a lot of the hostages. We weren’t in time.” Slipstream told him.

“That isn’t on you, that’s on the Hounds.” Icon said sternly. “I’ll tell you something that someone told me once. It wasn’t something that I wanted to hear, and it didn’t make me feel any better at the time, but after thinking about it for awhile, I realized that he was right.” Icon paused for a moment before continuing.

“It doesn’t matter how fast or powerful you are, or how good you are at what you do. You can’t save everyone. But that should never stop you from trying.”

“…” Slipstream was about to say something, but instead remained silent.

“You mourn the ones you couldn’t save, you honor them. But you have to move forward and do the best you can to save as many as possible.” Icon finished.

Slipstream thought for a moment, and while he was right about it not making her feel any better, he was also right in the overall sentiment. She decided there that she would take his advice. She couldn’t change the past, but she would do whatever she could to save as many as she could going forward.

“Thanks.” She said, and for the first time in days a smile began to form on her lips.

“Anytime. See you around….?” He paused, realizing that he had never gotten her name.

“Slipstream.” She said.

“Alright. See you around Slipstream, I have a feeling we’re going to be seeing each other again soon.” He said before rocketing off into the skies.

“See you around.” Slipstream said before taking leave herself. She couldn’t wait to get back to the apartment and tell Gemma and Izzy about what had just happened.

Frogs’ Lair
San Maria, California

“The Outside Ones?” Angela asked, looking from frog to frog. “You’re sure that’s what he said? ‘The Outside Ones’?”

Art nodded, “That’s what he called them. Said that’s what the Eye’s gods were called. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

“Okay, well I have a paper I need to get done for after break, I’ll do some researched at the library tomorrow,” she responded, packing up her stuff. “I can’t promise anything, but who knows. The college library has literally everything.”

“Thanks, Angela,” Clara smiled as their friend left through her secret entrance. Bach and Ludwig were already asleep. She turned to Art, “That wasn’t what I expected tonight. It seems like our situation gets worse and worse all the time.”

“Well, we started off as captive science experiments with no real life,” Mozart put his arm around his sister. “So I think we may have improved a bit.”

She shook her head and stood up from the couch, before beginning to pace around the circular living room of the bunker they called home. She moved around the recliners, tables, TV, and games they had strewn about the room as she did. Art knew what this meant. She was in her own head about everything they were taking on. She was by far the brightest of the four, but that meant she also worried the most.

“When we started we were taking on an evil tech company and some gangs. Now it’s interdimensional demon gods and their cult, not to mention people from other dimensions posing as children's characters?” she shook her head and was dismayed. “We’re in over our heads. I don’t know how we can do this.”

“We might be over our heads,” he agreed. “But we’re still going to fight this fight.”

“Even if it gets us killed?” she shot back. “Even if it’s hopeless?”

“Especially if it’s those things,” he answered. “Look around the world. We live in extraordinary times. Who are we to deny the burden that’s fallen to us while so many heroes around us carry theirs without complaint? I don’t know why we’re here. Hell, I don’t know how we’re here. But I believe, deep down, that we were put here for a reason. From where I’m standing, it’s to find out what the Eye, IDRG, and the rest are up to and put a stop to it. Whether we can or not.”

She stood and contemplated his words. She knew he was right, as much as she hated to admit it. Clara felt the same from time to time. But the voice in the back of her head also told her it was a suicide mission. It was, however, their suicide mission. And they’d see it through.

“You’re right...I’m gonna get some sleep. You should too. Love ya, brother.”

“Love you too, sis.”



El Bandito’s Compound
Pinebluff, California

El Bandito sat in his office, a shrine to the empire he had built in Pinebluff. The furniture that adorned his mansion on the edge of town was the finest money could buy. Dozens of cars adorned his garage. Gold adorned his neck, wrists, and fingers. It truly was good to be the king, and he had no desire to lose that status.

He grew up as poor as poor could be. He started selling drugs as soon as he knew how to add, and being abnormally large and strong his entire life allowed him to do so without protection. Aside from the gun he kept on him at all times, of course.

When he started on the streets, this town was the wild west. Gang after gang sat on top of the mountain, only to be pushed off months later by the next would-be king of crime. Chaos reigned, and profits were lost to petty differences and egos. No one saw how the west was open for businesses. The gangs in the east were content with their lot in life, and didn’t want to risk expanding west. All he had to do was align the domestic gangs against the foreign invaders. The Chinese, the Japanese, the Mexicans. They all wanted their share, and he knew that was his ticket to the top. It wasn’t a race thing. He himself was a descendant of Mexican heritage, hence the green, red, and white luchador mask he wore whenever he was conducting business. But he knew he could use petty prejudices and patriotism to manipulate the muscle in this town to work for him.

Once that was done, he had an army, one strong enough to push out the foreigners and “consolidate” and local holdouts. Once a few local bosses ended up full of lead, the rest of the riff raff fell in line quickly. Then it was simple to branch his influence into the rest of the west coast cities. It was the start of an Empire, but one that now seemed to be on perilous foundations.

For five years he ruled the criminal underworld of Pinebluff with an unquestioned hand. Until the Church of the All-Seeing Eye decided to take up residence in his territory. At first, he just assumed they were a cult. A weird murder now and again wasn’t a problem for him. In fact, it was a welcomed distraction for the police. If the cops were out investigating some satanic murder, they wouldn’t be keeping an eye on his drug shipments. He liked not having the attention.

Of course, that was before the witch that led the church showed up in the middle of his weekly meeting with his lieutenants. And by “showed up” of course, he meant the damn witch teleported right in, exploding out of some oil-cocoon that appeared out of nowhere in their meeting room. His bodyguards, Crash and Burn, tried to waste her, but their guns turned to inside-out snakes in their hands. Guts on the outside, but still alive. Crash puked immediately, and Burn damn near passed out.

She told the assembled men and women that San Maria and Pinebluff’s criminal underworld would now serve new masters. The Eye would be dictating what went down from now on.

He had laughed at her that night. Said that there was no way some creepy crawly supe would take over his towns, superpowers or not. It was then she snapped her fingers. Those inside-out snakes twisted, grew, and screamed in front of him. They turned from snakes into some sort of messed up komodo dragons, tar streaming from their gaping, teeth-filled mouths. The creatures proceeded to eat three of his lieutenants. He wanted to look away. He wanted to run. Everyone in the room did. But it was like the carnage had hypnotized them.

After the display of power, he begrudgingly agreed to her terms. He couldn’t do anything else, besides end up a snack as well.

It had been over a year since then, and he still had no idea what he was really moving for the Eye. Mostly, it was business as usual for him. Every once in a while the Eye would call and he’d send some men to pick up shipments for them. Otherwise, he was doing what he did best.

Things had changed in recent weeks however. The calls were getting more frequent, and things in San Maria were getting more violent. The killings had increased. IDRG had started using damned robots to patrol the streets, killing his business in the city near completely. And his contacts with the Eye had become more fanatical.

That wasn’t even counting the Frogs. He had been lucky, up to this point. Not having to deal with the metahumans around the country up until this point. But now that he did, he had to deal with four? That wasn’t fair. Freaks on his side were one thing. Freaks messing up his profit margins were another.

He was meeting with the witch tonight, and he planned to bring up his concerns. He was tired of being a silent partner in this arrangement. It was time he was heard, and it was time his needs were met.

“What time are they showing, boss?” Jefferson “Crash” Collins asked behind him. A former college All American linebacker from USC, a knee injury ended the enforcer’s pro dreams. He kicked around his neighborhood until the boss saw his potential. He was a terrifying physical specimen. Six-foot-five of pure athletic muscle.

“Eight,” responded Benny “Burn” Benson, his counterpart. Burn was a former leader of a bike gang out of Nevada. He had a penchant for arson, and a violent temper. He made up for not being as physically imposing as Crash by being out of his goddamned mind. He was quicker to stab someone than he was to say hello. His wiry frame also betrayed how strong he was. The man was a terror.

“When they get here, I don’t want either of you talking,” El Bandito instructed. “Last time you embarrassed me. I don’t need that happening again.”

“Sure thing boss,” Burn nodded while Crash grunted.

“Boss,” Gabriella, the current girl acting as his secretary said over the intercom, fear quivering in her voice, “they’re here.”

“Thanks, Gabs,” he responded, worried as to the nature of her fear. She had seen the witch before in the past, and never sounded like that before. “Send them in.”

He straightened the white tie around his burly neck, and quickly glanced down at the small mirror on his desk to ensure his mask was on correctly. He learned long ago that appearance was everything.

Glancing up, he saw Gabriella, a petite, pretty Latina girl open the large, gilded doors to his office. Behind her was the source of her fear. The witch, Kemsit, entered past her, a loose, airy black robe flowing off her dark Egyptian skin. She’d be damn fine if it wasn’t for the air about her. She felt like death when she stood next to you. Her hair was done up in an ornate style that made him think of Cleopatra.

While the witch was unsettling, she wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. What came behind her was.

In walked a man, or what the crime boss assumed was a man. He wore what looked like the armor of a samurai, but it was fashioned out of black glass. From his joints protruded spikes of what appeared to be black bone. Over his face was a Japanese demon mask, smiling a hideous, toothed smile.

Behind the masked man came black clad ninjas, and at their lead was a man from the Pacific Islands, appearing to be Samoan. Garbed in special forces combat gear, he had the scars of many fights carved into his face. He looked over Crash and Burn with a wry smile on his face.

“Welcome to my home,” El Bandito said to them all before turning to Kemsit. “You brought some new friends I see.”

The witch smiled, “El Bandito, allow me to introduce the leader of our Church here on Earth. He is the shadow warrior, the lightslayer, the bringer of the dark and the truth of the universe. He is Naga, Lord of Shadows.”

If El Bandito wasn’t absolutely sure they’d kill him for it, he would have laughed. What a goofy goddamn title. Who was this guy, a Game of Thrones villain?\

All thought of laughing was erased when the mask melted back from the man’s face like liquid metal running down a trough. The face underneath was cracked and mutilate. It was as if his skin had been taped back on by a child, and most of it was dead. In the cracks, puss and blood seemed to swirl, but not leak out. One of his eyes was missing, and the other was completely white.

“I-I-I thought you were the leader of the Church, Kemsit,” Crash blurted out after having an issue finding his words.

The boss looked back at him angrily as the witch explained, “I am but the Gods’ voice on our planet. Naga is their instrument. It is by them working through his hands that this world shall be cleansed.”

“What you have built here,” Naga spoke with a gravely, Japanese-tinted accent. “It is impressive. You are to be commended.”

“Thank you,” the crime lord nodded meekly, for him. “I actually wanted to speak about our arrangement, I-”

“That is why I am here as well,” Naga cut him off. “You have performed admirably to this point. But I am afraid I must alter our agreement.”

“Now hold on,” Burn lost his temper and moved towards them. “We’ve been altering our agreement ever since-”

In a flash, the Samoan was in front of Burn, and leveled him with a judo throw. Before the bodyguard could retaliate by doing something stupid, as he often did, El Bandito motioned for Crash to reign him in.

“My apologies,” Naga moved his Samoan warrior back. “Koga is very protective. As my personal assassin, he does not appreciate aggressive moves in my presence. I would also recommend the men you have waiting in the secret room behind that bookcase do not come out. I would hate to have to bloody your carpets.”

“Uh-of course,” the boss nodded. “You said you have some new orders for us?”

“Indeed,” Naga smiled a hideous smile. “Recent...events have made it necessary to speed up our efforts. We need you to start doing more than shipment runs. There are some strategic locations we need some of your men to hit. The first one is tomorrow night.”

One of the ninjas approached the boss’s desk and slid a file over to him. He opened it, and skimmed the contents, “An IDRG shipment? But why? Doesn’t seem like your normal MO.”

“The details of why are unimportant,” Naga snapped. “You will carry out the mission. Bring us what is in the truck.”

With that, the Eye contingent left.

“Boys,” El Bandito said to his bodyguards, “I think it’s time we start looking for the exit ramp of this crazy highway. Find out what’s on this truck. And see how much it’s worth. I’m tired of playing second fiddle.”



IDRG Pyramid
San Maria, California

Integrated Dimensional Research Group Director Dyer stood and oversaw the loading of the specimens onto the truck. He had put this day off for a while now, but he knew the day would come eventually. The Eye was never far behind them. The fact that he had gotten this far with his work was a miracle, if he was being honest.

“Director,” one of the researchers said, coming up beside the man, “he’s been sedated. Should be asleep until after transport in a few days. The rest of the cargo is secured. Shall we move the containment unit on?”

The director nodded to his subordinate, and the containment unit, guarded by three of their security drones was moved into position to be loaded onto the truck. As the cylindrical container was moved by him, he caught a glimpse of the fur-covered eyelid of the specimen, fluttering and full of dreams.

At least the Frogs wouldn’t be the only success. They’d be able to continue the work elsewhere.

---

Time: Evening
Location: Smithy’s Grocery Store, Las Vegas

Radio chatter confirmed everything Captain Dahl needed to know, she was disappointed the operatives she sent in were simply canon fodder. She had hoped they would have softened up the group a little but by the sounds of it they remained cornered. The Captain pulled up her radio ready to start speaking new orders.

First, a head came rolling in a bloody trail. Then two bodies came flying through the entrance rolling to a stop by her feet, the bright distinct light of fire burst through the gloom of the grocery store. She flinched shielding her face with her arm.

Cautiously moving her arm back to her side, “Huh.” She looked down to the bodies at her feet, moving the cheek of the clearly dead operative with the toe of her boot. “You idiots couldn’t even get a few shots in? Fucking useless.”

A feisty bunch of freaks.

“Well now, they think it’s over? Show ‘em hope is a fleeting thing.” Captain Dahl said into her radio, out of the other vehicles came similar looking Hounds, in their almost identical black armour. Carting over a shoulder one of them dropped a duffle bag full of shiny clips of blessed silver bullets, plastic bottles of holy water, and blessed iron cross necklaces. Ten operatives all loaded up on two clips of silver bullets each, a bottle of holy water strapped to their hips and hung the blessed iron crosses around their neck.

Captain Dahl did the same, picking up a singular clip of silver bullets. She changed out the clip of normal bullets for the silver ones, fluidly - muscle memory moving her hands. She stepped up to the entrance of the grocery store, with both hands she raised her pistol. She couldn’t see far into the grocery from where she was, all that could be really seen was the light from apparent Witch-Fire. She fired off three rounds the first two shots had no feedback, her final shot found a target. A long howl of pain warbled through the grocery store in a chorus of angry cacophony followed closely behind it. It was clear as day to her ears, Captain Dahl took a deep breath in then gave the order for her operatives to move in. Well trained, knowledgeable, and direct experience with the supernatural had hardened their resolves. Aware of tricks, magic and curses that surrounded the strange. These very same soldiers had dipped their feet into the proverbial pool of violence at Pixy Stix. They were eager to remove a couple witches but as prepared for the abundant presence of the Fae. They flocked to the aid of the witches.

It hadn’t been more than five minutes after the Witch-Fire appeared. Just enough time to pray to the heretics they referred to as gods.

The confidence in which they moved was unlike the caution shown before, ten moved in through the front entrance. Captain Dahl ordered four more to support the back entrance, where they reported a giant metahuman. They went in armed with riot foam, dusting it off from their emergency kits. Reports had stated this metahuman was rather difficult to damage with bullets, perhaps he had some of his magical companions protecting him, aiding with monstrous strength.

It was no real concern, they could at least slow him down while they focused on their real prize of the day.

Pacific Point
FBI Field Office

"Well, looks like the tide has turned, hasn't it Krauss?"

Wilhelm Krauss, colloquially known as the Gargoyle, said nothing. He winced slightly as the FBI detective swung a table lamp towards him to shine a light in his eyes but remained largely stone-faced.

"As I understand it, you also held that poor girl captive and interrogated her for...information on a mutant smuggling ring?" the agent recited after briefly shuffling through her notes. She shot the commander a smug grin and waved the folder in front of his eyes. "Your underlings were very helpful in regards to your actions over the last few days, Krauss."

The Gargoyle growled like an animal and jumped at her, the handcuffs securing him to the chair snapping straight. Barely even flinching, the agent returned to her notes.

"In any case, we have an interesting list of crimes here. Kidnapping, conspiracy, attempting murder, destruction of property...possibly even theft. I doubt you Hounds made this machine here on your own." She tossed a photo in front of him depicting the charred remains of the Gargyole robot. "Let's be frank here, you're going to go away for a long time unless you're willing to tell me about your superiors. Names, locations, future plans..."

The Gargoyle fixed her with a stony glare that said everything that needed to be said. With a sad little sigh, the agent got to her feet and collected her things.

"Well, if you want to tell me anything, I'll be right back," she said with an air of finality. "I must warn you, the regional team is going to be far less generous then I am, and if it gets that far capital punishment will be pretty inescapable. Consider it, Krauss." And with that, the agent spun on her heel and walked out of the room, leaving the defeated commander alone with his thoughts.

"Mutant-loving bitch," he grumbled, wincing as a stab of pain coursed through his head.

"That's not very polite, you know."

The Gargoyle looked up curiously as the door reopened and a more pleasant sounding voice filtered through it, followed by a man wearing the thick, concealing FBI SWAT armor.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"I'm your escape, sir!" the SWAT man said, moving to undo his handcuffs. "Old fashioned jailbreak. Already took care of the guards outside so its a clear shot to the outside."

"Didn't expect you to move so fast, frankly," the Gargoyle commented, rubbing his wrists tenderly as the shackles fell away. "Well, I won't complain, lead on."

The pair of them silently and efficiently made their way through the building, the Gargoyle making sure to step on the fingers of the few guards lying unconscious outside. Dodging a few patrolling officers near one of the stairwells, the two Hounds detoured into an elevator, the door gliding shut behind them. Before the Gargoyle could breath a sigh of relief, the SWAT armored Hound quickly pressed the button for the top floor.

"No, we want to go to the ground floor, idiot!"

"But how will I ever get to the top that way?" Puzzled by this cryptic statement, the Gargoyle scowled at the man and pushed the floor button correctly, only to find it wouldn't even go in. Angrily, he tried to hit the emergency stop but the button would not work.

"The hell is wrong with the elevator in this place?" he demanded of no one in particular.

"Ohh...perhaps its a small mistake," the SWAT man said. "A tiny piece that thinks its so important but it only just messes things up. Sure it'll be a hassle to get rid of the problem, but hey. That's showbiz for ya!" The Gargoyle turned to look at the man incredulously.

"Wait with the cryptic statements until later, will you? You're supposed to get me out of here!" The Gargoyle's confused anger intensified as the man in the armor simply laughed, sounding almost playful in his joy at the circumstances.

"Oh, the commander thinks he's being rescued, only to learn the horrible truth when it's too late! What pathos! What dramatic irony!" The Gargoyle's face paled as the armored man turned to look at him, lifting up his face mask to reveal that perpetual inhuman grin.

"Nothing my audience loves better then dramatic irony, darling!"

"N-no....no...!"

"Oh, where are you going?" Primetime cooed as the Gargoyle made a break for it out of the now open doors. Running on fear-induced adrenaline, the Hounds commander spun around the corner only to come face to face with Primetime, bedecked in that teal suit once again.

"You're going to miss your grand finale if you act like that!" Primetime produced a staff from the air with a handle shaped like a microphone and held it to his face. "What are your final thoughts, Mr. Krauss? Did you enjoy your little stint on my show?"

"FUCK YOU!" The Gargoyle knocked the staff out of his hand and turned to run when out of the seemingly empty office burst another Primetime, performing a little dance as he appeared.

"Ooh, that's rude," the deranged showman pondered. "Will the censors allow it?"

"Oh I think it's okay this one time," the original Primetime responded. "It's his grand exit after all!" The Gargoyle watched in horror as two Primetimes popped out of another office to lean casually against the wall.

"And even if its just a bit part," they began in tandem as six of them emerged from the hallway.

"...it should still be a grand exit!" The Gargoyle was paralyzed with fear as more and more Primetimes poured into the room, coming from the offices, charging down the hallway, swarming from the elevator, even dropping down from the air vents and climbing over cubicle walls.

"Stop...get away...GET AWAY!" The Gargoyle pressed against the glass window behind him as the Room flooded with Primetimes, closing in and pressing against him, crushing him into the plane glass. He cried out in terror as the pressure suddenly released. Looking around, he immediately wished he hadn't as a hand closed around him.

Terror robbing him of speech, the Gargoyle looked up at the face of a truly massive Primetime, a giant dozens of stories tall, still smiling broadly. He didn't want to know how far off the ground he was.

"As I said before," the giant Primetime continued. "You were only a small part in a much larger machine, and sadly you couldn't even do that part right." Opening up his hand, he gave a nonchalant shrug. "It's a shame really. Gone so soon..."

Primetime tipped his hand and watched as the Gargoyle toppled over into the sky.

"...when the show is only just beginning."

---

"So what's the ruling here?"

"My preliminary guess is suicide," the CSI said to the FBI agent. "As best I can tell, Krauss slipped out of his cuffs, somehow made his way to the top of the building and jumped."

The FBI agent felt her stomach turn as camera flashes highlighted the mangled corpse of the former Gargoyle embedded in someone's car. Turning away from the grisly image, she peered up at the building itself, where a jagged hole had been punched through the glass several stories above.

"The workers on that floor said he was screaming his head off before he jumped," the agent commented. "You think he just went nuts?"

"Entirely possible. I can run a toxicology report to rule out any mind-altering substances, if you'd like."

"Yeah, go ahead and do that," the agent said with a sad sigh, thinking of all the paperwork she'd have to fill out for this.

London
1968

Mood Music

The streets of London were alive with the spirit and optimism of the counter culture. A peaceful demonstration of some sort was happening. Women in colorful mini-skirts paraded around while men with long hair, shirts that displayed their chest hair, and bell bottoms followed after them. Bobbies in uniform looked on the scene impassively, their nightsticks at the ready in case the scene turned violent. The potent scent of marijuana hung in the air and everyone seemed to be bopping to the collective sounds of youth as they waved signs.

Smack dab in the middle of the protest was Abraham Lincoln. Nobody could recognize him. The Executive Branch's magic did its work to disguise him to the outside world. To them, he looked like a generic tall man in a suit and tie with longer than usual hair. The hair was not the magic but Lincoln himself. He had started to grow it out to match the changing styles of the time. His beard was gone, shaved back in the 50's when it seemed like most men either had a trim mustache or no facial hair at all. He had never been able to grow a decent mustache so he just kept his face smooth save for a thick pair of sideburns that extended to his earlobes. He'd been alive now almost one hundred and sixty years. Beards would be back in style before long.

"1,2,3,4, we don't want your fucking war!"

The crowd all around him chanted in protest while he made his way through it. As unpopular as the Vietnam War was in America, in Britain it was overwhelmingly hated by both the people and politicians. The UK never seriously pledged men or aid to the conflict despite its closeness with the US, something that explained the current strained relations between the two nations.

"Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids you kill today?"

Lincoln pressed on through the crowd as they continued on their path to wherever they were heading to. It was apropos that he would run into the protest on his way to the safehouse. Vietnam was heavy on his mind, as it had been on the minds of the rest of the Executive Branch. This war was a different beast all together than what had come before. The US had dropped more bombs on the Vietnamese than they ever had on the Germans or Japanese combined. Instead of armies and tank columns leading the way, helicopters and bush patrols were where the battles were waged. There was no way the US could emerge from the conflict unscathed. For the Vietnamese, their was their American Revolution... and the Americans were the British.

He now found himself alone, the crowd marching further up the street to the square. He walked a few more blocks before ducking into a side alley. He found a wooden door halfway down and gently knocked on it in order, three long knocks and four short ones. The sound of latches and locks clicking came from behind the door. By Lincoln's count, there had to be at least seven on that door. At last, it swung open and a man peered out at him through the darkness.

"You need a haircut," said Andrew Jackson.

Jackson's once long hair was trimmed. A crewcut, they called it. A conservative hairstyle many counter-protesters wore with pride. It seemed to sum up Jackson's attitude on change very well.

"Did Mr. Roosevelt tell you I was coming, General?"

"Yeah. Come on in."

Jackson walked inside and Lincoln followed. The safe house served as the Executive Branch's Western European headquarters. Jackson, a one man station, was responsible for all intelligence and operations on this side of the Iron Curtain. Lincoln looked around the small house. Jackson made the place his own. A ceremonial Indian head dress rested on the fireplace mantel, above it was a portrait of his wife Rachel. Maps of the US, Europe, and Germany hung on the other three walls. There was a table and three chairs along with a fully stocked liquor and gun cabinet.

"I see you're settling in nicely."

"Mr. Wilson kept this place like a library," said Jackson. "It was mostly history books, some photos of his daughters."

"He is an academic," replied Lincoln. "Not a... man of action such as yourself."

Jackson grunted, opening the liquor cabinet and pulling out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. He placed the glasses on the table, filling them to the brim. He picked the two glasses up and looked at Lincoln.
"I'm sorry, did you want something?"

He upended the two glasses, one after the other in fluid motion, and grimaced as the bourbon went down.

"It's ten AM," said Lincoln.

"Breakfast of champions."

Lincoln ignored him and instead sat down at the table. Jackson followed suit, pouring himself another full glass.

"I'm here because you're needed in the field."

Jackson raised an eyebrow as he sucked down his third drink.

"There are strange reports coming out of Vietnam. US and Vietnamese soldiers are experience unusual phenomenon.
Lights in the sky, disappearances of whole villages and platoons. Whispers of abductions by... someone or something."

Jackson wiped his mouth with the back of his arm.

"No," he replied. "Hell no. I dealt with that once before."

"Which is why you're the best man for the job. You're the closest thing we have to an expert, General. Whatever these things are, they are abducting both soldiers and civilians."

"Not my--"

Lincoln held up a long finger. "Before you say it's not your problem, know this: It's a chance to get back out into the field, General. An honest to god warzone."

Lincoln saw the hairs on the back of Jackson's neck stand up. Jackson, like Colonel Roosevelt, relished the opportunities that war provided. Even with his fear of the mysterious flying machines, the chance for combat would always weigh out.

"Let me pack my guns," he finally said.

"Which ones?"

"All of them."