Location: Lost Haven-Maine, Apartment Complex
Time: 7 am Morning (Day 3 in Lost Haven)

---

A single bar of sunlight traced Racheli’s naked skin. It glided up her exposed hip, over the curve of the ribs and past her chest before coming to rest across her eyes. Her lids scrunched as she flipped away. Her face pressed to the silken pillowcase just to shut it out as she gave a muffled groan. Short strands of hair clustered at one side and tickled at her nose, arousing her hazy mind to stir from her laziness.

Racheli finally gave in. Disgruntled, she pushed upright and smacked her pillow for her disrupted sleep. Her legs curled under her sitting posture as she hung her head, trying to collect herself. After a few moments, she pressed both feet to the carpet then stood up.

Instinctive Racheli dragged herself to the kitchen-slash-dining area. Thankfully no one but her was within the apartment or they might've gotten flashed. Comfortable in her own skin, she began to search around the apartment drawers for a few essentials to make a hot cup of coffee. It took her a good half an hour to finally round everything up then set it on the counter. When she popped open the coffee container, it finally dawned on her…

She was using both hands. Her eyes widened and stared at the newly formed arm, testing the fingers by flexing them. Slowly into a fist then straightened out once more. Each time on command like nothing ever happened.

“What the fuck?” she uttered, completely confused.

“It would've happened sooner if you had listened to me.”

Her head snapped over her shoulder, a glare washed away her shock.

“What the hell do you want?” Racheli snarled while her figure jerked around and leaned against the counter edge with her ass.

“Are you going to start that again?”

The virus countered, his vision stood firm and stiffly in place. She merely continued to scowl at him drawing a sigh from the illusion. His fingers pressed and pinched his nose bridge firmly, trying to relieve the tension building within him.

“You seem to keep forgetting I'm trying to teach you about your abilities, not hinder you.”

Irritation settled into his words, but Rach didn't care. She twisted her back to him as she began to wrap up making her coffee, placing the pitcher underneath the spout to catch the brew. The distraction was more needed than the coffee right now. Taking a moment to stretch her upper half, she decided to finally seek clothes for the day. She couldn't walk around naked and restlessness was creeping up on her.

Padding past the virus’ hologram, she reached the bedroom closet to find it fully stocked. Various clothes, from casual to see-through, were all neatly lined up across a single bar. Rach frowned then flopped a pair of ripped jeans, a tank top and button up shirt upon the disheveled bed top. She quickly grabbed some brand new panties and bra to place underneath. While she hadn't much issue, fun even, going commando, she wasn't in the mood. When fully dressed, she headed back to the bathroom for her old pants. Her hand dug around for her wallet. Upon finding it, Rach placed it in her back pocket alongside the cell Midas gave her. She then headed back to the kitchen. Her fingers gave her hair a single brush to it untangled and flatten her cowlicks down.

By now coffee permeated throughout the apartment. It was a welcoming and familiar scent causing Racheli to swoop in for a cup. As she listened to the bubbling liquid fill the cup’s bottom, the doorbell rang causing her to frown. Placing her desires on hold, she shifted and moved to answer it. The moment her hand opened the door, she found no one in the corridor. Just the newspaper with a morbid headline staring her in the face.



Her eyes tightened in curiosity as she leaned down, her right hand reached out to snatch it up. A small, pink envelope dropped from the center onto the floor causing her to pause in surprise. The woman stared at the innocent looking thing with high suspicion. Her greener than blue eyes stormed down one end then the other, seeing no one. Biting her lip, Rach quickly bent over and snatched up the letter. She twisted on heel heading back inside.

The door clicked behind her as she tossed the papers onto the table. She would look at them when she was damn good and ready, but not before. Her hand reached for the coffee to soothe her nerves. A few small blowing breaths before she sipped it, letting the warmth seep into her fibers. After a moment or two, her attention drifted back to the newspaper and the unexpected letter. There was only one explanation: Midas was fucking with her.

Snorting at the thought, she strolled back to the table and flopped into a chair. Her arm grabbed the pink envelope to see if there was a return address, but the only thing was written on it. Racheli Lorna Desdemona. A dreadful sensation erupted within her middle, her expression twisted into dislike. Cautiously she tore open the letter’s top as she slid out a card.

Her eyebrow raised in question at the birthday card as she flipped it open, the message revealed inside: I’m sorry I missed your Birthdays, but Daddy hoped your wishes came true. Racheli dropped the card. The chair squealed when her abrupt stand sent it backward, her eyes widened in shock and fear.

“What the fuck?!?” she uttered under her breath.

This couldn’t be possible, there was no way he was alive. She watched him die. Her heart thumped in her chest, the beat echoed through her ribs and rippled through her veins. Any breath she tried to expel got stuck in her throat where it tried to suffocate her. On impulse, her hands ripped the thin into pieces before she threw it into the trash. Her feet flew across the floor toward the exit, snatching a jacket along the way, before slamming it shut.

---

From triumph to despair.

An anguished cry of grief and rage escaped Katarina’s lips as she saw Ben collapse from his multiple bullet wounds. She could practically smell the silver in the air, vaporising from the spilled blood of the werewolf as his vitae gushed from the fresh injuries the Hounds had inflicted upon him. Katarina could see them advancing slowly, cautiously… a tactic that would be their undoing - caution in the face of overwhelming force would only lead to total annihilation. Not that the overwhelming force had reached them yet, but Katarina cared little for the mortal obstacles that barred her path to her paramour. She instinctively knew her magic would be too slow to react in time - she lacked an appropriate missile attack that would stun or kill his assailants immediately… but then she had an idea. In less than a second, Katarina took hold in one hand, one of the assault rifles of the fallen Hounds that had met such a terrible, gruesome end, and in the other, tore the armoured vest - and webbing attached - from the Hound that she had *not* torn in half. Following that, Kat, with full force, shoulder-barged her way through the aisles that blocked her path to those hateful fiends, with not even the screeching of twisted metal and crashing of goods as they fell from their shelving masking her bestial roar that accompanied her charge against the Hounds. Far too late did they anticipate such a charge, and before they were able to raise their weapons against this new threat, Katarina was on them. She aimed her charge to knock the first into the latter two to stun them and give her an extra few vital seconds with which to wreak her bloody havoc.

Her charge utterly stunned the trio of Hounds that had approached Ben. The first was thrown towards his comrades, a flailing mass of limbs that knocked the others to the floor, their rifles tumbling from their grips. Katarina was closest to the second, and leapt upon him, her fingers like talons, grasping at her prey. The Hound’s body armour was of little defence as Katarina straddled the Hound’s chest, easily batting away his feeble attempts to defend himself. She wrenched the Hound’s head to the side, and sank her fangs into her prize - his exposed neck. She drank deeply, her body flushing with new energy - and knowledge. The rifle in her hand. An M16A2 assault rifle, firing 5.56 NATO. Old US Army stock, but no less effective. The vest would stop much of the kinetic energy - Level III body armour. Good enough to stop most ammunition types in use in the modern day. She could use that information later… Before the others could react, Katarina swung her rifle up and pulled the trigger twice. The staccato bark of the M16A2 shattered the air, Kat’s ears ringing from the din. Her shots found their marks, with almost inhuman accuracy - truly, she had drunk deeply from her prey! The shots she had fired both penetrated the helmet of the Hound that she had not charged - there was no surviving that. The third and final Hound had by now been able to regain his senses somewhat and attempted to lunge for his gun - to no avail. Katarina pulled the trigger twice more. ‘Double tap.’ something in her head said to her as she did so. The technique she had drained from the Hound she had fed upon - the shots impacted the Hound once again twice in the head, penetrating the helmet and no doubt killing the man inside.

Ben ignored the violence that the vampire was enacting upon their attackers, quickly moving to where the werewolf was laying. He didn’t know why things were suddenly on the defensive, nor did he particularly care. He was immune to whatever the bullets were that had made the golem hurt and was shattering through whatever magic the witches had. The bullets that had hit him, after dealing with those men with the riot foam, had only shattered on his now nigh impenetrable skin. He would have to come back here and grab the ammunition and those strange necklaces the men wore. It seemed to protect against the magical attacks of the Fey, and perhaps would do so with the magic of the witches.

Picking up the werewolf, he sprinted towards where Freya was taking cover. The remaining riot foamers were either dead or to far away to stop him, and his body was immune to whatever fire that could be sent against him by the others. He could afford to be reckless. His sister smiled at him as he dropped the golden werewolf nearby. ”See? That wasn’t so hard. Now see if you can’t get whatever their firing and wearing, and then help the witches. They appear to be struggling.”

Ben rolled his eyes in response, looking at the softly growling werewolf. ”Try to bite my sister, and I’ll throw you back out there.”

Benjamin just growled then snorted. As his head laid down, his attention focused on breathing and moving. His adrenaline had died shortly causing the numbness to vanish, every wound burning past the surface. Each time he tried to rise, his
weight brought him back down and more blood oozed from the holes in his flesh.

The next attempt left him weaker than the last one.

Freya shooed her brother. ”Go. I can handle him.” Ben shrugged reluctantly, leaping through the smoke and illusions again. With her brother off on his task, Freya turned back towards the werewolf. ”Hey, easy there. You’re hurt and struggling is only making it worse.” She spoke gently, soothingly, moving carefully closer to the werewolf. ”You need to give yourself time to rest. None of it looks lethal, though I admittedly know nothing about werewolf physiology, so all you need is time to use your considerably powerful healing ability to recover. If you don’t you’re just going to lay there hurt even longer, and no one wants that now, do they? Just be patient for a bit, and then we can start seeing about you walking around yeah? Can’t help anyone if you bleed out on the floor.”

At Freya’s touch, Benjamin shuddered. His blood coated her fingers nearest the wounds causing him to whimper in pain, his sound more akin to a scared domestic canine than a proud wolf. Gradually his body managed to still,some of his side pressed upon her knees, as his peripheral vision caught sight of her.

A deep, injured voice echoed in her head. A sense of youth and strength mingled with worry and instinctive need. A need to protect his pack, his family.

‘Can't heal or move. Something’s wrong. Pack needs to survive. Pack is life.’

”Well that’s great, but if you die because you won’t give yourself time, then the pack isn’t going to survive either. So I suggest you stop thrashing.”

Benjamin started to ease his struggles. His body fell back to the ground and settled down, the pack’s survival enough to make him listen.

Katarina, meanwhile, had been focusing on the rest of the thugs that were attacking them. She was able to make out several dark shadows through the insipid smoke clouds that hung around the area, remnants from the smoke grenades that had been the hallmark of the beginning of the attack. She raised her weapon to open fire, but hesitated. She didn’t know who they were or whether they were friendly - they could have been the witch, or the Frenchwoman, for all she knew. This moment of uncertainty cost her dearly - whilst she was attempting to identify one of the figures, another raised their weapon and fired two shots. The first missed, ricocheting off a nearby metal aisle and generating a veritable shower of silver fragmentation that bounced around all over the place, several striking Katarina and burning holes through the leather jacket she was wearing, burrowing into her flesh. The second struck her in the left thigh dead-on. She screamed in agony and dropped to one knee as the blessed silver burned and charred her unholy flesh, a torrent of blood erupting from the wound and staining her jeans as it did so. She was now also aware of searing pains in her face, as rivulets of blood dripped down her neck and into the lining of her jacket. Had she been shot in the face? Surely not... Even as the silver tried to do its work, Katarina’s undead constitution rejected such a metal, ejecting it with some black sorcerous force, such that the silvered tip fell to the floor, smoking as it reacted with the remains of Katarina’s blood. Gritting her teeth, Kat returned fire, striking the Hound twice in the chest, dropping him to the ground. She knew that his armour had likely taken the brunt of the round impacts, but it was the best she could have done given her situation.

She looked over at Freya, and her stricken love, Ben. Immediately, all thoughts of retreat, or withdrawal, or anything other than heated anger were erased from Kat’s mind. They had hurt him, no, crippled him, and she was going to kill every last one of the bastards who had done so. [i][color=921111]Fight for him, Kat. If nobody else, fight for him.[/i][/color] She gave another roar of rage as she got back to her feet, ignoring the searing, stabbing pain in her thigh as she did so. At the same time, she strapped on the armoured vest she had been carrying. It wouldn’t protect her from much, but it would do the trick - the ammunition was more important. Kat switched over her M16A2 to fully automatic fire - single shots wouldn’t be sufficient in such close quarters. She spotted another figure in the mists and smoke, and instinctively pulled the trigger, a burst of fire spraying across the figure, complete with individual clouds of blood droplets. The figure crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. [i][color=921111]Scheisse, that was a civilian! Ach, well, collateral damage. Acceptable casualties.[/i][/color] She looked back over towards Freya and Ben, and shouted over to them. ”Get him to safety! I’ll hold these untermenschen off as long as I can!” She noticed the Frenchwoman opening a portal off to the side - an escape route! Pointing to it, Kat nodded to Freya. “Over there! Go!”

Ben reappeared, carrying a few clips and two necklaces from their, now dead, assailants. He was even bloodier and his clothing had even more bullet holes in them. ”This was all I was able to get. The witches are making a portal to bail, and we’re leaving with them.” He handed his sister the stolen loot, and picked up the werewolf. ”Come on, kid. Lets go and see if those witches can’t fix whatever’s wrong with you.”

Freya herself was busily putting up the clips and the necklaces, standing to follow her brother. ”The vampire is gonna cover our retreat, so I suggest we start leaving now.” Her brother reached over, and pulled her to his side. ”Stay right here while we move. I don’t want you getting shot.” She rolled her eyes, but obeyed, moving with him as Ben slowly made his way over to the portal.

Katarina kept glancing over at the Dovers, and the stricken Ben, as she watched for any targets that showed themselves. A tactical withdrawal was in order - the Hounds had evidently retreated somewhat after the golem had enacted its own rampage against them in defence of the witches, and possibly as a result of their own rising casualties. Perhaps Katarina’s usage of their own weaponry against them had also played a role - maybe they weren’t used to vampires with assault rifles? She made this a mental note for the future; always carry a gun of some kind when out and about on the streets of modern America, for you never knew who was opposed to metas and who wasn’t. Thirst simply wouldn’t cut it (no pun intended) in the modern world as a weapon - she needed a gun. Perhaps she’d simply take this one. Out of the corner of her eyes as she limped towards the portal, she spotted a Hound struggling to his feet, clearly in pain. The same man that she had shot earlier and whose body armour had evidently taken most of the impact. Wouldn’t make that mistake again. She raised her rifle and pulled the trigger twice, the now-familiar bark of the M16 ringing in her ears as the gun let loose. She struck the Hound in the head, a cloud of red and odd pink chunks flying into the air, but she was unable to admire her results for long, for she came under a hail of gunfire in return, though much of it was inaccurate. Yet the old adage rang true once more - sling enough shit at a wall and some of it will stick. Kat saw the shot too late, and tried to throw herself out of the way, but her reflexes, as fast as they were, were insufficient to dodge a bullet travelling faster than the speed of sound. It impacted along her left side, the silver metal tearing open another gash in her skin as it tore across the surface. The pain from her wounds was almost unbearable, the smell of her own blood filling her nose and fogging her mind.

She dragged herself back to her feet and over to Ben’s clothes - rifling through his jeans, Kat saw several possessions that seemed important - a small card bearing his likeness, his ‘phone’ which she had seen him using earlier, and his wallet, which no doubt was very important to him. She stole a glance over at the portal, and then back to the Hounds’ direction. She reloaded, her movements slowing from the silver affecting her bloodstream, and her perception slowly dulling - the thick white smoke clouds were persistent to say the least. My god… hurry up… I can’t keep going much longer… Not that she would admit it in front of Ben. He was all that mattered to her… and until he was safe, she would fight. She didn’t really know why, but… she didn’t care.

Ben finally reached the portal, throwing the injured werewolf through without a second’s hesitation. Freya turned back to the vampire and shouted, ”Vampire! We’re leaving!” Then jumped through herself, Ben followed suit. He personally wouldn’t have even bothered warning the woman, but that’s why Freya was the one who handled diplomacy.

Finally! It was time to beat a hasty retreat. Katarina dragged herself back to her feet and looked over to the portal, just in time to see the larger of the Dover twins throw - yes, throw - Ben through the portal’s gate. Kat seethed with rage - how dare this whelp, this animal, treat her injured love in such a derisive and uncaring manner?! He was critically wounded, and this brute simply saw fit to throw him about like a doll?! No matter. That would wait for later. Kat limped as fast as she could over to the portal’s entrance, and with a last burst of gunfire, she dove through, just as a return fusillade peppered her last location...

Zac dashed out of Washington Park while carrying a straggler bystander out of harm's way. Ever since he, Kelly, and Sammy found the Silver Sorceress terrorizing the Albany city park, Zac had been zipping around the immediate vicinity to make sure people were not in the line of the SIlver Sorceress’ fire. As long as the magical villainess was around, nobody was safe.

After Zac had helped the bystander across Madison Avenue, he dashed back to the epicenter of the Silver Sorceress’ attack. On his way there, he gave out a sigh of relief that he did not spot any more civilians left to be endangered by the Silver Sorceress’ magic. When he returned, Zac found that Kelly and the Silver Sorceress were still gridlocked in their magical duel. However, this was not flashy like something you might see in Harry Potter or some other generic fantasy movie. Instead, it was more akin to a mental game of chess, where each spellcaster would try to find a weakness in the other’s strategy and exploit it. Since he guessed that his girlfriend needed to focus her entire concentration on the Silver Sorceress, Zac knew better than try to interrupt.

At that same moment, both Sammy and Jeanette also returned to the rendezvous point. Jeanette was still battling the major gusts of winds that the Silver Sorceress had summoned, since she basically had sails for arms. Therefore, whatever help she could provide was limited until something was done about the winds. Sammy, on the other hand, did not have that same problem.

“I had to save some kid’s cat from a tree just to get her to get her to safety.” Sammy complained aloud.

Zac, however, just placed a finger up to his lips and then pointed towards Kelly and the Silver Sorceress in an attempt to tell Sammy to keep quiet.

Meanwhile, an opportunity seemed to have opened up for Kelly. While for the entire time the Silver Sorceress had kept her attention on the brunette standing in front of her, for just a moment, turned his gaze away, as if she sensed something happening far away across the country. At that moment, Kelly tried to press her advantage to end this magical duel and stop the Silver Sorceress’ plan. Such a mistake like this was just what Kelly had been waiting for.

Yet, even with this opening, the Silver Sorceress was not down and out. Instead, it soon became apparent that the Silver Sorceress had not been exerting all of her energy on the duel until she was on her heels. But just like a cornered rabid animal, the Silver Sorceress swung back with an overwhelming blast of magical energy. Since Kelly might have pressed the advantage a little too much, she was caught off guard by this counterattack and was thrown backwards by the impact of the magical blast. She landed with a hard thud in front of her three friends and allies.

“Sorry, darlings,” the Silver Sorceress declared as she approached the four young metahumans like a predator does its prey, “I would love to prolong this little tussle, but I have a bitch to fry. So I just have to end this with one fell swoop.”

She then snapped her fingers while mumblings an incantation. Suddenly, Zac, Kelly, and Sammy’s feet (or serpentine tail in Sammy’s case) began to sink into the ground, almost as if they had fallen into quicksand. And just like quicksand, the more the three metahumans struggled, the faster they sank into the park’s soil. It was not long before they were shoulder deep into the ground.

Jeanette did her best to do what she could. Since the Silver Sorceress thought she had achieved victory, the powerful winds had died down to a gentle breeze, allowing her to take advantage of her flying abilities. However, even when she tried to pull Sammy out of the terrestrial trap, she could not raise her up faster than she was sinking. Once their heads had all but submerged under the earth, Jeanette in vain scratched at the soil with her feet talons, since her avian hands were useless at such a task.

“What am I going to do?” Jeanette asked herself aloud.

The Silver Sorceress, on the other hand, had summoned an incorporeal parchment that had several names scribbled on it. Using her finger, she crossed out the first name on the list.


Once that was done, the Silver Sorceress used her magical abilities to teleport herself out of the park, leaving the harpy-like heroine wondering what she could do to help her friends, if she could even help them at all.

Kyle was seething.

He came home from doing some errands and was looking to spend the afternoon with Sam. They had both been busy as of late, and hadn’t spent nearly as much time together as either of them would have liked. Between Sam’s gig at the Lost Haven University radio station, and the Hounds of Humanity, neither of them had much time for anything. However, today Sam was to finish early at the station, and he had a clear schedule for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime.

He had stopped off at Sam’s favorite place in town, Ernie’s Deli and picked up her favorite sandwich; a spicy Italian sub with all the fixings, and a Buffalo chicken sub for himself. He figured that they would eat their subs and then go and do something together. He figured maybe they’d take a trip to the coast and go to Crystal Cove, one of Sam’s favorite swimming spots. Although the water would probably still be a bit cold for swimming, it was still a beautiful place with views that rivaled any place on the East Coast.

However, when he came home, instead he found Sam laying face first on their bed sobbing loudly. He had tried talking to her, trying to get her to tell him what was wrong, but all he got was an unintelligible garble of nothing. Finally, after several tries, he was able to get the words “attack,” and “school” out of her.

Eventually, she was able to calm down enough to tell him what had happened. The Hounds had launched an attack on LHU, and a number of students and staff had been injured or killed. Kyle grabbed a hold of her and held her close to him. He guided her back down into a laying position and lay down next to her, cuddling her tightly while telling her that everything was going to be alright until she cried herself to sleep.

He laid with her with his arms wrapped tightly around her, listening to every breath and every whimper. With each passing moment his rage grew, until finally he couldn’t take it anymore. He gently kissed Sam on the back of the neck and careful not to disturb her, he crawled off of the bed and as quietly as possible, he left the house.



“You’re taking this personally.” Harry said as Kyle pulled the mask over his head.

“They attacked the school. Sam could have been killed. You’re damn right I’m taking this personally. It’s about time someone did.” Kyle responded to his mentor.

“I’m just saying that you have to think clearly. You can’t let your anger cloud your judgment.” Harry told him.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m thinking very clearly.” Kyle retorted. “I wonder if I’m the only one who is.”

“Sorry?” Harry asked, unsure what his protégé meant.

“It’s time to end them.” Kyle said simply.

“Kyle, that’s easier said than done. You might be able to put some of them in jail, you can disrupt their leadership, but it’s an entire ideology that you have to fight.” Harry began.

“They’re escalating Harry. They aren’t just hitting meta hot spots anymore. They’re going after anything and anyone they can. They put Arthur in a coma, they hit the school. What’s next?” Kyle said angrily, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Putting them in jail sounds like a real good start.” Kyle said simply as he climbed on the motorcycle that he’d been using since the Hounds destroyed Kaiju and took off into the night.



It had been a quiet night for the most part. Lyger had searched in vain for any sign of the Hounds of Humanity. The fact that they were keeping to themselves wasn’t much of a surprise to Lyger. The Hounds of Humanity were cowards. They attacked a bunch of unarmed kids and college staff earlier in the day, and now that the heat was on, now that they were being sought out, they were nowhere to be seen.

Or so it seemed.

The guilt Lyger felt at having left Sam alone at the house had finally begun to become unbearable, and with no sign of the Hounds anywhere in Crown Ridge, he was about to give up for the night. He took one last look from his perch atop the old Majestic Theater, and then he saw them. There were two black vans, very similar to the ones that had come after him just a few nights before.

“Got you.” He said as he dove from his perch, and with a well placed grapnel line, guided himself safely to the ground, where he pulled the motorcycle, which he had discretely hidden away beside the old theater, and took off in pursuit of the vans. He was tempted to attack the vans, however, he decided to follow them instead. Perhaps they would lead him to their headquarters, and then he would be able to take out the entire cell. So he hung back, far enough away that he wouldn’t get their attention, but not so far away that he’d lose sight of them.

He followed them for over a dozen blocks without incident. The drivers didn’t seem to notice that they had a tail, or they didn’t care. Though, due to the apparent lack of activity coming from either van, Lyger figured that he hadn’t been seen. The vans drove on for another quarter of a mile before they pulled in front of Tom’s Liquors, a beverage store that had been known within Crown Ridge for the rough patrons that it catered to. Knowing that he had finally found the trouble that he’d been looking for, Lyger tensed as he accelerated on the motorcycle toward the two vans. Before he got there, he saw the doors open and four or five men get out of each van, each man adorned in the black body armor that had become synonymous with the hate group, and armed to the teeth. He wasted no time, jumping from the motorcycle as he reached the terrorists, striking the first with a kick to the chin, shattering his jaw and knocking several teeth from the man’s mouth. As he landed, he swept the legs out from another, the move caught the man off guard and caused his head to bounce hard off of the sidewalk. Two more Hounds rushed toward him. The first was met with a stiff kick to the solar plexus, which knocked the air out of the man. Before the man was able to crumple to his knees, Lyger grabbed the man and spun around, putting him in a rear choke hold before turning the man, swinging him around in a manner which caused his legs to kick out and strike the second attacker in the face, and in a single fluid motion he drove his captive face first to the concrete, followed by a swift punch to the back of the head. He then rose to his feet just as the second attacker had regained his wits and struck at him with the butt of his rifle. However, Lyger caught the weapon in his hand and pushed it off to the side, hitting the attacker with a rising uppercut, which knocked the man on his back. Lyger quickly straddled the man, and with a swift right hand to the side of his face, knocked the man unconscious.

As he got to his feet and was about to take the fight to the Hounds that had already gone inside the store, the storefront windows suddenly exploded, showering the hero in a cascade of flying glass. The concussion of the blast sent him flying back several feet and landing in a heap in the sidewalk. The sudden shock of the blast had surprised him, however, it only took him a moment to recover. Lyger quickly got back to his feet and as he entered the store he found the remaining Hounds all laying unconscious scattered about the store. The only one standing was a frightened young man who looked to be in his mid twenties. From what Lyger could tell, if there had been some sort of “explosion,” this man was likely the cause.

“Thanks…sorry.” The disheveled man said before taking off toward the back of the store, where he disappeared behind an employee door. Lyger had every intention of going after the man, however, the sounds of police sirens were approaching, announcing the impending arrival of Crown Ridge’s finest, which meant that Lyger couldn’t be there when they arrived. So instead of giving chase to the young man, he instead left through the front entrance, where he hopped on his motorcycle and fled the scene just as he was starting to see the blue and white lights of the police cruisers beginning to approach.

With a sigh, as the cameras ready to roll Briley stepped up to a podium with a clear pulpit of plastic. With men in the booth they started to get everything ready for their six pm announcement, Briley took a sip of water setting the glass on the shelf of the pulpit as condensation was smeared on the clear surface. She pulled notes out of her grey suit pocket just as the lights turned green; Riley stood just off stage ready to approached when she was called, Mrs. Patton had requested her to appear for public support and to ensure her enemies would have a difficult time making a move with Riley thrust in the spotlight proper.

“Good evening, Poseidon Energies rarely requests a TV time slot, and with the loss of Strike which many had only heard of in rumor it put us in an unusual spot. Having fulfilled contracts for the aforementioned agency we understood the need for agencies that aided heroes. Whether you hate or love them heroes are a genie we can not simply put back in the bottle it’s too late for that theirs is a presence that only seems to swell and with that in mind we at Poseidon have taken a stance one against terror. We will give heroes the support and guidance they need to properly deal with the Hound threat, these murderers of innocents have ran rampant for too long. The recent attack on Lost Haven University an institution for learning is unacceptable and that is only the most recent atrocities. With us we have a special guest who will be joining us shortly but before that I’d like to present you with S.P.A.R.K or the Special Power Applications, Research, and Knowledge division.” The screen behind her changed from a simple background to the banner for SPARK which depicted a scene of science and supers in the same room.

“The goal of Spark is the research and aid for heroes whether it be their powers, gadgets or care. Those who take up the mantle of hero will need assistance as those who continue to spread villianly and terror rise obtain more advanced tools of destruction they in turn need to combat this ingenuity. And with that let me introduce you all to one of our local heroes who has agreed to lend her talent and aid.”

There was a slight gasp from the crowd that broke into polite but enthusiastic applause as Riley, known to many of those gathered here as the superheroine Voyager, swept onto the stage with a slight flourish. Briley had made sure that Voyager would look her best for this appearance, going so far as to add some foundation to hide a rather stubborn bruise from her last encounter with the Hounds, and judging by the crowd response that was paying off in dividends. Already glowing with enthusiasm, Voyager paused to wave at the gathered news cameras before approaching the podium.

“Hello everyone!” she began, recalling the prepared words that Briley had set up with her. “My name is Voyager, and I’m pleased to announce that I am the first hero to join the SPARK team!” There was a beat as Voyager continued. “And…hopefully not the last!” There was an appreciative chuckle from the crowd as Voyager hopped aside to let Briley continue with her segment.

“Along with Voyager here who has gladly accepted to be on the broadcast we have Hound Dog’s assistance as well. Who cannot be here due to a broken arm. That said if there are any metas gifted in healing Poseidon would like to speak with you, like Osiris of the Immortals.”

As the announcement was being broadcasted others would take note, many of whom the terrorists who Briley had blatantly called out but one well dressed individual just sat back in his chair and spoke one word. ”Neat.” While he drank a glass and turned to his wife ”What’s our schedule dear?”

However also at Gomorrah a couple just past the entrance and seemingly started to mosey over towards the slot machines carrying rather large briefcases before turning to the other, “We got five minutes. Make this quick.” And taking off in seperate directions.

Naia's attention snapped up to the stranger just as the water pipe burst, and she had the presence of mind to avoid the water as it sprayed out and then towards the shape forming in the square. Her gaze followed the water as it wormed its way through the air to join the rest, and then she glanced back at the newcomer from under her deep hood. The sparkles of green and gold were fading from under there, as her spells faded, but she couldn't have been eighteen yet. She flipped back the hood and shook her head, staring back into the square.

"That's Tiamat," she said quietly. "she must have shook off what they were talking about, or else she snapped. I will hold this way, you go help other places." And with that she busied herself handcuffing those Hounds still capable of struggling, not bothering with goodbyes.

---

Darya was conscious of the bullets as they slammed into the shape she had created, but only because they were disturbing the surface. The air she breathed felt cool and clean inside the small sphere she had left herself, just tall enough she didn't half to duck. The buzzing in her ears was not due to her radio, she realised, but more from the full concentration she had on what she was doing. More power was welling from within her, and she felt full to bursting, revelling in just being able to use this much water all at once. Before, she had held back, not sure whether or not she should let go, but here, where people's lives were at stake and the enemy as evil as they were, she had finally accepted the full extent of her powers. And they were wonderful

It felt like ice and fire in her veins, the cooling presence of her power and the excitement of cutting loose. She didn't even stumble as the plaza buckled under the pressure and weight underneath her, coming as it was from both sides of the paving. Stones cracked and mortar sloughed into the flow as pipes emptied their contents into her creation, building it even higher. At this point, as she looked up in self-indulgent wonder, it was probably over three stories high. The serpentine mass had formed, thanks to her subconscious instruction, a full crest and teeth and whiskers, and the ripples and swirls on the surface even began resembling scales. She could see this herself, but feel it with her powers.

Down below, the rumbling of the rushing torrents had reached a crescendo, and she gave her power full vent as it did. Out on the street, sewage and brackish water blew forth from manholes, the lids flying up as if launched with rockets and spinning off into the sky. As the effluence poured forth, it spread down either side of the holes it came from, forming chest high waves and washing down the streets and outer alleys, slamming cars and Hounds together with abandon. As her opponents fled into the plaza from the horrifying stench and unrelenting fluids, tendrils stretched forth from her own shielding creation, slapping out with enough force to knock them ten feet away into walls, or otherwise crashing them into the ground, where they lay, dazed or unconscious.

Darya viewed all of this either through her senses of power and what it was contacting or the surreal, bluish window the swirling water of the dragon shape afforded her. She was dully aware that voices were coming over comms, but she ignored them, preferring instead to enjoy herself. As a result, the gushing effluence on the street began to swirl and coalesce into shapes. None so impressive as the dragon head she was in, but vaguely human/wave hybrid began actively pursuing those she could feel still in contact with the water on the street.

It was the dulling of noise, or rather utter lack of it, that led to Darya not noticing the thump of approaching helicopter blades. In fact, it wasn't until a large calibre round tore through her dragon head that she even realised anything was approaching at all. A small window split in her "armour". Letting her see the entry of three attack helicopters into the fray. No insignia adorned them, no legally required call numbers. Just black matte finish, whirring rotors, and rocket pods, plus the spitting nose guns that tore apart the stone tiles of the plaza into unrecognisable chips in three distinct paths. The water then closed up around her, and Darya began screaming, dropping yet again into panic mode, water tendrils slashing about the square in a blind defense, threatening friend and foe alike.

Bang.

Fletch had been waiting for hours in the alleyway across from where Richard Midas brought Racheli in. By now, Archie was curled up on the railing above her, soaking in the rays of the day. Placing her bow to one side, one of her arrows propping it up so it was ‘standing’ on one of the limbs, she sat there and waited. By now, her backside had found a comfortable position on the cardboard that was conveniently placed on the metal platform of the fire escape so to not be painful to sit down while scoping out the place.

Bang.

What had also been convenient for her was that one of the kids threw a ball up onto the same platform that she was on and hadn’t had the chance to collect it. It was certainly more entertaining for her to use than the one other thing that would possibly be used. I wonder how Archie would react to this, her thoughts wandered as she paused her ball throwing to look at the sun-bathing, plant-based sugar glider. She then pushed that thought out of her mind. Evergreen did give her Archie as a companion to give her other ideas to use for possible arrowheads, so it’d be best not to piss off the previous owner to use his creation as a makeshift ball to use in times of boredom. Maybe I’ll keep this ball with me just in case.

Bang.

That time, she threw the ball a little bit too hard. Not enough that it sailed over her head when it bounced off of the wall, but enough that it pushed over her gloved fingers and toppled off of her perch onto the ground below, landing into a pile of trash bags next to her bike. ”Shit,” she grumbled, watching helplessly as the ball landed with a plastic thud. The marsupial woke up from its sun-filled slumber and began glowering at her. She sneered back, ”At least I’m doing something instead of sleeping.” With that quip, the marsupial started to curl back up into the sun.

However, Archie bolted straight up which caught Kayla’s attention. ”What is it, Archie?” It wasn’t long before she began to hear it, although faint in the sounds of the city: gunfire. And judging from the sound of it, there seemed to be a huge gunfight. Now torn, she looked towards the building that Racheli was in. Fletch needed to get into contact with her at least for Evergreen’s sake, but she didn’t know how bad it was at the gunfight. There could be innocent people there, she thought, gritting her teeth whilst doing so. In the end, she let out a frustrated groan, slamming her left fist into the metal railing. She picked up her bow and arrow from its resting place. ”Come on, Archie. We need to go.” As the plant creature scurried off into her pocket, she jumped over the railing down to the ground. While the impact stung her legs, the concoction that Evergreen made for her had made her legs slight durable from the fall, though the big increase was her reflexes and agility. As she got onto the bike and started it up, she thought about something. ”Archie, can you create as many seeds as you can while we investigate what that noise is?” Not waiting around for too long, she throttled the bike, tyre spinning with the rapid acceleration as she sped off to the source of the sound.

-----------

Location: A square, location of the Hound’s ground assault
Time: Early afternoon

Parking her bike in an alleyway a block away from the source of the gunfight, Fletch was already up on a nearby building, watching in horror as the Hounds and whoever they were facing duked it out in the square. Despite seeing the presence of metas down below, with everything that has happened before, she wasn’t fazed by it at all. Although she wasn’t at the scene for long, she had gathered that the Hounds had at least two vehicles with LMGs and the LHPD, she assumed, had at least 2 metas. Not wasting any more time, she dropped from the roof to the ground, an arrow flying off of her bow to hit a Hound dead in the chest. She landed and rolled, grabbing another arrow from her leg quiver as she did so. Moving from damaged car to damaged car, she approached the plaza. She quickly sent arrow flying, each of the broadhead tips thudding into their intended target with deadly accuracy.

It wasn’t until she saw the water dragon that she heard it. At first, it was faint, but the cyclic thumping of helicopter propellers was recognizable. As they came into sight, they began firing at the water dragon that was wrecking havoc in the plaza. Fletch managed to catch a glimpse of the meta that was in the head of the dragon before everything went to hell. The attacks from the attack choppers had caused the meta’s creations to go into a frenzy, attacking everything within reach. She barely had noticed one of the tendrils launching a swing at her that she managed to dodge the blow. She saw Hound and LHPD getting struck with all of them that made her retreat. As she grabbed one of the grappling arrows, she swooped down and picked up a fallen soldier’s radio that belonged to the meta’s group. Before a nearby tendril had a chance to swing at her, she fired her arrow up to a nearby building, rappelling up the building with her retractor glove as the body of water slammed into the storefront below.

Standing up on the roof, Fletch snarled at the attack choppers as they continue to mow down the combatants on the ground. Grabbing another arrow from her back quiver, she turned to where her companion was. ”Archie, I need two of your seeds.” As she had asked, the sugar glider held out two of the seeds that he created for her to grab. Holding the tip of the arrow to her, she slid the seeds on either side of the arrow, careful not to cut the seed too deep. Nocking the arrow onto her bow, the archer drew the bow and carefully aimed at the closest chopper. She felt her shoulder muscles and rotator cuff engage as she pulled the string back beyond the wall of the bow. I hope to god that Evergreen is right about this, she thought just as her drawing arm snapped back, sending the arrow flying towards the chopper.

BANG!

The arrow had hit its mark, the projectile darting straight towards the tail of the chopper. The two seeds were cut in half as the arrow thudded against the centre of the propeller, causing a chemical reaction in them. Although the seeds were small in size, they packed enough chemicals in there to cause the whole tail of the chopper to explode. With no tail to help keep it in the air, the chopper span out of control as it tumbled out of the air into the ground, causing mud, grass and metal to explode into the air as parts of the propeller disintegrated itself and the ground it was cutting through. With one chopper down, she reached for the radio she had obtained and pressed the emit button. ”Now I know that I am late to the show, but what the hell is going on here? Who do I need to shoot at to get this conflict resolved?”

---

Time: Evening - Current Day
Location: Hoover Dam - Las Vegas

The scrape of a high heel against concrete signaled Odette’s arrival through the portal. Bach looped his arm around her waist supporting her, they limped to the side of the portal still within arm’s reach of it to close it. Mandate ducked through next a clear frown over her smooth features, she radiated lingering rage. Bach went to work immediately scattering some seeds, blooming from the seedlings was a soft chair of leaves. He settled Odette upright, she tried to breathe through her nose, teeth gritting. Struggling to not touch her wound. Bach rifled through her purse for the first aid kit. Fey surrounded them, quietly watching The Ambassador.

Shortly within another minute White Witch reached through, looking visibly pale and weakened. Holt supported her in a similar fashion. After another minute the wolf-boy was tossed through the portal next followed by the two other werewolves following behind him. The giant twins came next and the vampire brought up the rear. Mandate closed the door and with it the portal disappeared.

Bach’s brow was furrowed, he spoke quietly to her in French. He found the kit, using gloves he unwrapped some sterile tweezers. Odette stared at them, knowing as well as he magic wasn’t going to be able to pull out the blessed silver buried in her shoulder.

With her opposite hand she gripped his shoulder, fabric balling in her fist. “Get it out.” She said hoarsely. He nodded.

“This is going to be painful.” He ripped the shoulder of her shirt open exposing her shoulder completely.

He gripped the tweezers firmly between his forefinger and thumb then began to dig. Odette threw her head back with a rare unconcealed grunt. Her grip tightened on Bach’s shirt. He maneuvered the tweezers around in the wound picking out pieces of the bullet dropping them in a small empty pill bottle. Odette’s legs twisted, Bach used his free arm to keep her still as he worked. Finally after two more pieces were removed he removed the largest of the remaining fragments. Bach put away the tweezers laying a gentle hand against her shoulder, he spoke a spell to test if it was all removed. The minor pain relief began to numb the area with success. Odette took a deep breath in.

“The irony is not lost on you, My Lady.” He commented.

“No, it certainly is not. I’d wager removing a bullet from the abdomen is far more painful.” She replied quietly. “Bandage me for now and I can wait until Vienna can help.”

Bach nodded, “Yes, My Lady.”

Odette reached for the pill bottle holding it up to see it. She sensed the blessings from the fragments, bloody as they were. “We’ll keep these to study.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

Odette glanced around at the group, licking their wounds metaphorically and literally. She addressed them, “If there are any lingering doubts of our alliance please keep your escape and lives tonight as a reminder of who you are to thank. I would go so far as to say you now all owe me a favour.” She said pushing off the chair a little slowly, a confident grin. It fell apart into leaves similar to the ones on Bach’s head. She eased a small light jacket from her purse, Bach helped her put it on. “The Fair Folk we lost tonight will be honoured, my friends remaining will return with me to Paris.”

She gestured to the Fey hiding in the shadows. “Dover Twins, wolf twins, wolf boy and vampire girl. If any harm is to come to White Witch while we are apart, you all will expressly be blamed then face certain consequences from me.” Her icy glare went from one to the next getting mixed reactions of fear, defiance and hatred. She approached the White Witch, visibly she struggled against the fatigue. She really had no stamina. Odette found it difficult to see the potential lying within her. Skilled but still lacking.

“The blessed silver will pass with purification, Holt will surely help you.” She reached into her purse pulling free a white smartphone, with a small witch hat charm. “Use this phone to contact me, do not call to pester me with questions. Reserve them for your contract holder, Puck.”

She turned walking back to Mandate and Bach. “Come, we are returning home.”

Odette smoothed her hand over Mandate’s dented chest, “We will see to your ‘injuries’ as well, my dear.” She smiled up at the golem, patting her reassuringly. Noting her apparent worry. “You did well today, my dear friend.”

The Ambassador summoned a new portal with some difficulty, the pain still present in her shoulder but tolerable to concentrate. The Fey flowed through the portal once again, Mandate stood guard as the last to cross. The portal door disappeared in a wink, leaving the small group to relax in the seemingly safe haven of the Hoover Dam. While grappling with what it truly meant to owe The Ambassador of the Fair Folk a favour.

A light breeze tossed about the desert sand around the Giza Pyramid complex. Hundreds upon thousands of tourists flocked to the site, since they hoped to see the last remaining wonder of the ancient world. However, unbeknownst to the tourist travel below, a man, hidden by his god-granted powers, hovered over the Great Pyramid of Giza. The Son of Osiris, after he had used an excessive amount of his powers, would teleport to this Egyptian relic and meditate there while his magical strength was restored.

Once the aura given off by these Egyptian pyramids had revitalived his powers, the Son of Osiris opened up a warp-gate with his magical abilities. When he passed through this mystical construct, the Son of Osiris bypassed the thousands of miles and several hours worth of travel with only a few steps. One moment, he was hovering over the Great Pyramid. The next, he was standing in the Immortal’s base of operations.

He found Odysseus leaning back in a chair facing a monitor that was showing a rerun of a press conference from earlier that evening.

“About time you showed up,” Odysseus mentioned once he noticed that Osiris had entered the room. “You’re a wanted man.”

For what reason?

“You can hear it for yourself,” Odysseus answered the question that he heard in his head. He then snatched up the remote and dialed up the volume so that his fellow Immortal could hear the woman speaking on the television screen.

“—have Hound Dog’s assistance as well. Who cannot be here due to a broken arm. That said if there are any metas gifted in healing Poseidon would like to speak with you, like Osiris of the Immortals,” the recording of Briley Patton announced, probably for the umpteenth time this evening.

“I wonder what that rookie got himself into to land him into the hospital? Probably went head first against those Hounds. Dumbass.”

I guess that makes you a dumbass, too.

“I ain’t no rookie.”

Well, I better go down there. God know how long that kid has been cooped up in a hospital bed.

“Could be a trap.”

Possible, yet unlikely. Poseidon Energies does not seem to have such devilish intentions.

Once again, Osiris opened up the warp gate and walked through it. This time, he found himself standing in front of the Poseidon Energies Pacific Point facility. He was not sure where the boy, whom he first met during the Game Genie’s attack on the city, was being kept. He assumed that someone here could at least point him in the right direction. And if nobody happened to be home, he could try tomorrow, although he wouldn’t want the electric hero to suffer any more than he needs to.

The Son of Osiris suddenly heard a noise from the side of the building. He decided he better check it out, just in case someone was trying to do something dastardly against Poseidon Energies. However, what he found was something he was not expecting. Hidden away from the lights given off by the Poseidon Energies’ building, there stood what looked like a woman in a white colored power suit with angelic wings. Her armor was cracked in places and covered with dirt and grime, which tainted its normally pure white color. What Osiris thought was the most peculiar thing about this was that it sounded like the woman’s sobs were being translated through a voice synthesizer.

“He needs your help,” the woman finally told the Son of Osiris.

Don’t worry. I’m here to find the location of the boy.

The woman paused for a moment, as if she was unnerved by Osiris’ telepathic communication. However, the distraught woman pushed through this unusual experience.

“No, not him,” She said while still crying. “Chris.”

You know where he is?

The woman nodded, before continuing.

“And I need him to get me out of this thing. I tried pulling it off, but—”

She then held up her left arm. The Son of Osiris was shocked to see that she was missing her hand. However, instead of some sort of bloody wound, only wires and tubes stuck out of the opening of her wrist, which revealed that there was not an arm in there, or perhaps even a person.

---

"Yeah... Uh-uh... I know right?! I can't believe myself!", Cindy Bellmore, age 24, said before laughing at what her friend told to her. "Rick finally proposed to me. Honestly, he could've picked a better place to propose to but I try not to care too much", she said while she rolled her eyes.

"Hey boo, this internship is really killing me right now and I have to finish this today or I'll be late with my meeting with the organiser tomorrow with Rick. Catch you later!", she said before putting her phone down.

Working as an intern for the greatest fashion designer ever has its ups and downs. Sure, she'll be closer with to her idol, the one and only George Jimenez, but all these errands Cindy was ordered to do was really damaging her freshly done pedicure. Especially right now when she was told to sort the dresses out for the wedding fashion show for tomorrow. Even so, Cindy couldn't believe she's marrying her all-time crush after years of dating. It made her feel like she's living in a fairy tale, but she's beginning to freak out because it's currently approaching midnight and she's the only person left in the two-story building. Of course there are guards roaming around but she's pretty sure even they were asleep as well.

Cindy did a final review on the wedding dresses, making sure the wedding dresses were in perfect condition and the mannequins were fine, when she spotted something on the corner of the room. She was surprised to see a black wedding dress worn by a mannequin on a pedestal there because Cindy didn't remember the dressmakers creating a black dress. She moved closer to it and was really baffled when the black veil was attached to a... is that a crown of thorns? Even the mannequin itself was weird too, wearing a white wig and having a skin more gray in complexion compared to the others. Also, she doesn't know if she was just overworked but she swear she can hear it say something. Curious and confident the guards will come to her aid when she's in trouble, Cindy moved her ear closer to the veil to hear what it was saying.

And it whispered: "Abigail Denton"

Cindy's eyes widened in horror as she turned her face to the veil and slowly backed up. It's been years since she heard that name. "W-w-what?", Cindy said while her voice was shaking in fear.

A few moments passed. Then a snap came from the 'mannequin' like bones cracking, followed by another and another as its arms and head bent in directions that could kill a human being. It did that as it stepped down from the pedestal and took a few steps towards Cindy who was backed away into another corner of the room, too terrified to move her legs or even do anything. A final snap and its head was back to normal before saying, "Dear Lord, forgive us our sins and let the flowers bloom..."

"N-No!", stammered Cindy as she stood petrified where she was. She covered her ears with her hands and pleaded to the Black Bride to stop which it did. "W-what do you want freak?!", Cindy shouted as the Bride laughed in its demonic voice.

"Abigail Geraldine Denton, age 18, found dead in her own bedroom with a deep slit on her throat and a bloodied knife on her hand. Believed to be an act of suicide due to matching traces of DNA found on the knife matching with hers. Further autopsy reports found out traces of too much amount of nicotine in her body along with an infant growing within her. Age of infant believed to be two weeks old."

Cindy couldn't believe what she heard. She knew Abigail committed suicide but she never knew she was pregnant at that time. "You're lying! How dare you disrespect my best frien-"

"Your best friend?", the Black Bride sneered as she moved closer to Cindy. "Since the day Rick Villegas came into your lives, you never regarded Abigail as a best friend anymore. You saw how Rick clearly liked Abigail from the start but you're Cindy Denton, and you always get what you want."

Tears dropped from Cindy's face as the Bride continued. "You told childhood best friend's deepest, darkest secrets to everyone at the university you were both in. Of course, being the back-stabber you are, you feigned ignorance as she asked you how her secrets were spread out. Poor Abigail kept on receiving insulting messages from social media and her phone. People would laugh and whisper behind her back that made her feel nothing more than a gnat."

"Please stop", Cindy pleaded as she knelt to the ground and raised her head to look up to the Black Bride, her make-up smeared on her face from tears. "I'm sorry. Please, I'll do any-"

"August 15, a few weeks later", the Black Bride continued, ignoring Cindy's pleas to stop as she screamed and covered her ears. "You planned a make-believe party and made her attend it to show everyone that she wasn't affected by what people say behind her. That she would show everyone that she's a fighter. Sadly the only sin Abigail committed was trusting too much on her best friend, and what she didn't know that the 'party' was actually the university's football team. Abigail partied as her confidence grew, drank too much alcohol to even notice it was spiked, then the whole football team-"

Cindy screamed and cutting off the Black Bride, her hoarse voice filling the room. She screamed and screamed and screamed at it to stop.

But the Bride still continued. "Abigail woke up with her whole body sore. She walked barefooted that night as she made her way to your house, because the only thing in her mind was that her best friend will be there for her. But surprise, surprise! Her best friend, the only person in the world she truly trusted and cared, was hooking up with her own boyfriend Rick. She ran back home after that, heart full of disbelief that her childhood best friend would betray her. In the following weeks, she didn't come out of her house. Abigail continued to ate all her food until the only things she could eat were ants, cockroaches, and rats. Her drug addiction also came back to her during that time, her only piece of heaven in her hellish life. Until finally she couldn't take it anymore and slit her throat with a kitchen knife on August 29, resulting in her death."

Cindy only raised her hands in surrender with tears and snot continuously flowed from her face. "You killed her. You, Cindy Bellmore, killed Abigail Geraldine Denton. You killed her. You killed her...", the Black Bride repeated and repeated with its voice rising as Cindy continued to scream and shake her head. Even if she covered her ears, she could still hear the Black Bride, and Abigail's laughter. Even if she shut her eyes, she could still see Abigail's face as Cindy gave her a friendship bracelet when they were eight. Even if she forced herself to forget, she remembered all the times they spent together during their childhood.

Finally, Cindy opened her eyes. She recalled her and Abigail's prayer they made up when they were kids before going to bed.

"Dear Lord, forgive our sins and let the flowers bloom". She walked past the Black Bride and she retrieved a pen and a piece of paper.

"Please save us all from our scary doom". She finish writing something on it before putting it on top of a desk.

"And no matter how far, how old, or how different we've been". After that, she got a pair of scissors from the table and placed the blade near her throat.

"Abby and Cindy will forever always be sisters within!"

---

"We are now here at the scene of the crime where another brutal massacre has happened. This time, two guards were found dead outside the building near the bushes as their mangled corpses and teared flesh allowed the police to determine the culprit as nothing more than a blood-thirsty beast. However, police found another dead body on the second floor. Unlike the two previous corpses, the victim's body wasn't mangled up and instead police found clear evidence that the victim identified as Cindy Bellmore committed suicide by slicing her own throat with a pair of scissors. A note was found near the victim atop a desk that read and quote, 'I killed Abigail Geraldine Denton. I killed my best friend.' Further investigations are being done as I speak to know more about Cindy Bellmore's involvement in Abigail Denton's suicide years ago. Meanwhile, it looked like she wasn't alone the night she took her own life. Security cameras show the night of the crime that Cindy Bellmore was with an unknown figure dressed in a black wedding dress..."

Location: Lost Haven
Time: Early afternoon

This girl looks only a few years older than my own, and yet she’s out here fighting the Hounds? David thought to himself as he eyed the girl, her short height already helped hint at her age, and yet he still couldn’t help but be surprised by how many young heroes he’d come across lately. David drew his gaze back to the square, where the water had managed to form into a menacing dragon.

David recognized the name the girl had spoken, the Babylonian god of the sea. “Tiamat huh? How fitting.”

Maybe I should have taken Gaia instead.

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

It didn’t seem that long ago that David had lived a quiet life, safe from superhumans, Earth shattering powers, and the like. The fact that he was witnessing more and more metahumans with such power bothered him a little, but that might have been because he was becoming more and more involved. Still, he missed his quiet Sunday mornings, maybe this was a sign. The girl turned to the Hounds to cuff them, and like she said, it was time for him to handle some bigger problems, like those Hound helicopters.

“I’m Terra Firma, your illusions were pretty cool, let’s team up again one day.” David gave a casual wave, even if she had turned around, before he finally jumped into the air.

David flew closer to the square, most of the Hounds had run off, either from the threat of the water construct, or the smell.
“What a curious smell you’ve discovered.” David grumbled to himself, he tried to pinch his nose shut, only for his thumb and finger to uselessly bump into each other, he grumbled again.

Tiamat didn’t look to be in control anymore, tendrils extending all around the plaza whipped every which way, striking at the Hounds that were still around, or at her friends and the police. He wanted to get down there and help her, but the Hound helicopters were a serious threat, tearing into the ground everywhere trying to hit heroes and police. It bothered him to just leave her as is but he had to prioritize now, he stretched out his hands and several thick walls of cement, stone, and dirt rose out of the ground, offering cover to the police and heroes. He hoped it would be enough to keep them safe as Tiamat struck at them and turned to face the Helicopters coming around his backside.

The sound of their blades twirling alerted him easily enough, giving him some time to try to maneuver around them, force them out of their cockpits maybe, except that failed. A burst of heavy machine gunfire shot him from the skies, grounding him on a nearby roof. His body slid across the roof as gunfire trailed behind his body.

Alright, so I’m not faster than a helicopter.

David pushed himself off and into the air once more, aiming to dodge the helicopters now, instead of haphazardly running into them. It helps that he was smaller and more agile than they were, but good things don’t last forever. As evident by their continued machinegun fire, and a wave of missiles launching, right at him.

Missiles? I’m a man! Not a jet! David let his panic loose in his mind.

The stream of bullets and missiles crashed and exploded into his back, sending his body rocketing into the side of a building, he left a fiery trail behind him as his body rag dolled, but whether that was due to the missiles or his own body he didn't know. Debris from the wall and various office fixtures coated his laying body, his own landing had crushed several walls before he finally stopped, leaving a heavy dust cloud hanging in the building.

David started laying out his goals down in his mind, he wanted to bring these men down without killing them, a good thunderbolt could short out their computers, then he’d have to catch them, they weren’t too high, but still. The thumping of the helicopters’ blades grew louder and he knew he had to act now. As they came closer to investigate their blades pushed back the dust cloud, David burst out, and past the two helicopters. Luckily for them they both had the sense to hold their fire, but David had already started his plan as soon as he left the building.

“I was looking forward to an easy weekend, let me help you show you what I mean!” David shouted as his hands shot to the sides, stretched out into the air.

Lightning gathered around his body as the air around him charged and snapped with electricity. David gathered his hands close to his chest, the lightning followed his movements and gathered in between his palms, forming a brilliant blue orb, he then thrust his arms out and the electricity shot outwards with a thunderous boom, colliding into the sides of the helicopters, leaving a dent and a deep scorch mark into the armor.

Electricity violently surged through the vehicles, the blades stopped spinning and they began to quickly fall. David held his breath as he reached for his Earth powers again, the ground underneath the copters rumbled and several large hands emerged from the ground, the helicopters splashed into the muddy palms of his dirt hands with a wet thud only moments later.

“Phew.” David said, he wrapped up by turning the muddy hands hard again, tilting them upside down, and coiled their fingers around the helicopters, keeping the Hounds inside trapped.

“This superhero thing is getting easier all the time.”

Location: Lost Haven 10:42AM... Lost Haven University.

Alexander stood outside of the University. He held his backpack in one hand and a briefcase in the other as he continued to just stare at the wreckage that was his work. "You have got to be kidding me." was all the words that came out of his mouth as he seemed to drop his briefcase feeling it land next to him and lean up against his leg. The last two months he had spent in Japan, China, and all over the Asian continent training, and learning even more Martial Arts, as well as participating in a few tournaments. But this is what happened at home. So much chaos, and destruction, because of what? Jealousy? Anger? It didn't matter to Alex he had very important books in that mess and would just have to hope they weren't destroyed.

"You okay Professor?" a female voice would ask as he looked behind him to see a young redheaded girl there looking up at him. She was in her school attire even though the school was closed for obvious reasons. "I just came to grab some things that the Police found. Did they not find anything you asked them to look for?" She would ask in her young and naive high pitched voice.

"I didn't ask them to look for anything. I suppose I am fine, thank you Christina for asking; I honestly had no idea this happened." Alex frowned as his eyebrows indented towards each other. Turning around he gave Christina a nod as he started to walk away. A sigh leaving him as he did, obviously there was disappointment, but more so mourning for all the artifacts he knew he probably lost from the chaos and destruction.

Location: Downtown Lost Haven 3:23PM

Posters were up all over town plenty of people had come to challenge Alex because of them. The posters read: Challenge the master to a fight, win, get $5000. Entry fee:$50.
He had already gone through 5 fights and now he faced a student. Alexander sighed as he looked across from him, he was hoping that he was going to get someone who could actually challenge him, but thus far he had dominated every single person who had stepped up. Alex looked at the boy who had his fists up in street clothes. A leather jacket on and ripped faded jeans. His name was Ryan. He had failed Alex's history class last semester, and obviously saw it as a way to finally get to 'hit his teacher' and 'make him pay'. But Ryan just showed up and had not seen what happened to the other 5.

The bell rang. The fight began, Alex quickly closed distance on Ryan who would try to throw a left hook, only to find his wrist being grabbed. Alex, with the hold on Ryan's wrist, would pull Ryan towards him landing a palm right into Ryan's solar plexus. Ryan let out a gasp as he tried to get air into his lungs. But Alexander was in complete control. He quickly swept his leg to force Ryan to begin to fall backwards. But that wasn't enough, Alex would get 3 solid and strong jabs in before Ryan hit the ground. 2 to the chest and one to the face causing Ryan's nose to start to bleed. As Alex began to walk away Ryan yelled out, "I'm not done!" he would be trying his best to get up and Alex simply shook his head.

"You are done Ryan. Go home." he would say, but Ryan charged him now swinging wildly. Every punch thrown was dodged rather easily. It was only a couple of seconds before Alex decided he needed to end it. He would dodge a right hook by moving his head back and to the right, as he moved his hand came down to chop right into Ryan's kidney. Ryan screamed out in pain, but he didn't have much time to scream as another palm went into his solar plexus once again. The sound of someone trying to catch their breath could be heard only for a moment, Alex followed up with an elbow to the jaw. Wrapping the arm that had just elbowed Ryan, Alex had Ryan's head in his arm, he would kick out Ryan's ankle now forcing him to start to fall, only for Alex to push down on his face to push Ryan's face into the mat as he shadow punched Ryan's head about 10 times before saying, "It's over. Go home."

Alex stood up and bowed to Ryan who was struggling to just move now. "Ice and rest your injuries. You should not have anything broken do not worry." Alex said as he walked back to his chair and sighed. "Is there anyone that can actually challenge me and give me a good fight?" he'd say just loud enough that a few of his trainees could hear him. His boredom was evident, he was supposed to spend his day writing down a few thoughts on the artifacts he had at the school. But there went that idea, so here he was, fighting all comers, the original plan only to fight 2 people. But he had nothing better to do the rest of the day. "What a drag" he'd say to himself.

November looked up from the dead hounds' weapons, frowning. The three helicopters, which he recognized as Mi-24Vs, with their AT-Sixes intact, (something that surprised Nick,) flew toward the plaza, tearing into the dragon with their machine guns and missiles. For the metas' part, it held together well so far, but the LHPD was not equipped to deal with helicopters, even though they had been mobilizing to handle metas. Nick was about to try something stupid to take one of the helicopters down, when the tail of one simply just exploded overhead. Taking cover from the shrapnel by diving behind a van, Nick stood up as the helicopter spun out, crashing in a circular pattern towards the park square. Turning his attention to the other helicopters, November was about to move out, but he was interrupted again by an unknown voice on the open frequency on his walkie-talkie.

”Now I know that I am late to the show, but what the hell is going on here? Who do I need to shoot at to get this conflict resolved?”

Nick thought he was as qualified to answer as anyone in this debacle, so he pulled out his walkie-talkie, switched to open frequency, and replied."This conflict will not be resolved until all of the Hounds are apprehended, killed, or incapacitated. The Hinds are the biggest issue, take them down." And with that, he put his walkie talkie on his belt, and climbed into a van, grabbing the machine gun, a matte black M240 that was bolted to the floor by a mount, and turning it on the helicopters. Shooting the fuselages would do the sum total of jack and shit, so he tried something else.

Or, well, he was going to, before the flaming man was knocked out of the sky by their missiles, getting sent crashing through several buildings. Almost immediately in response, a lightning bolt cracked out of nowhere, striking the helicopters, sending them into tailspins, which giant hands from the earth caught, pulling them down to the ground. Somewhat shocked, November just shook his head, and climbed into the front seat of the van, which, fortunately, had the keys still in the ignition. Apparently the Hounds thought this would be a quick fight.

Pulling forward, to the alley where gunfire and lasers were shooting out from, Nick hopped back on the machine gun, and opened up on the Hounds from behind, annihilating them with long sprays of the M240. Jumping out of the van once he was done with the sweep, he took cover behind the jet black vehicle, on the lookout for more Hounds.

The dragon shape had broken down into a basic orb, still lashing out with tendrils, when the chatter on the radio finally broke through Darya's panic.

"-saying is that someone needs to knock her the fuck out already!" That sounded like Dragon.

"And all I am ordering is that you stand down, Dragon. Jones is on it!" Score one for Faulkner, she thought.

The swirling water calmed, and suddenly fell with a splash, leaving a huge wave to gush along the ground, though she was quick to direct it out onto the street instead of into her teammates. She looked up from where she had huddled into a foetal position on the ground, balancing on the balls of her feet with her arms thrown up over her head. Jones moved towards her cautiously, helmet still on but balaclava down. He hands were out placatingly, gun hanging across her back from the sling.

"Hey, kid, are you here? Can you stand u- Oh, there she goes. I need a medic!" And Darya was out like a light, just as the pain from her wounds caught up to her. She had caught nearly a dozen glancing shots through her shield, and a deep gouge across her forearm where one round from the chopper had just missed removing it halfway to her wrist.

---

Faulkner stood near one of the strike team's armoured vans, watching as Holliday tended to the wounded, and listened to the radio traffic. He was not a large man, only five six, but he had the imposing air of authority that command gave those who were born for leadership.

"Center team reports all hostiles neutralised. Seven arrested, twelve dead, unknown number injured, sir."

"And our side, Sergeant?"

"Tiamat and two officers sustained severe injury, Dragon, Broadway and four officers light injury. And Ford's dead, sir."

"Shit. Clean up, what's your status?"

"Getting help from those locals, looks like. We've flushed what looks like the remainder into the police lines. Not a lot of fight left in them, though they holler plenty about revenge. Thirteen arrests, five dad, seventeen injured. No losses."

"Flanks?"

"Naia here. Five arrests, seven dead, no injuries, two of ours injured. I have let the spell go to make collecting the enemy easier."

"Alright, team leads meet me by the vans. We'll coordinate with local PD on a sweep of the buildings in the area, make sure there's no stragglers hiding out. Broadway, see if those locals want to help out, we could use the manpower."

"Aye aye, Cap'n."

Faulkner sighed and went over the numbers. He wasn't satisfied, not with a death on the team, even if they knew the risks when they signed up, and especially the risks of the current op. And Tiamat was definitely a problem. Three of the injuries, though Veracruz hadn't said it, were from her panic attack. She was undoubtedly powerful, but she was too unpredictable and too green for this sort of thing. He knew, however, that several team members had taken a shine to her, especially Jones, and that Naia, Holliday, and Broadway would all possibly revolt if he simply fired her. He'd have to go over it with the Direcotr, however. She was clearly not cut out for combat situations against these sorts of enemies.

---

Broadway looked up at the strangers that had come in during the fight and flashed them a dazzling smile, made all the more so by her power, which currently made her skin as bright as a flashlight.

"Well," she said, glancing over the three of them as Naia walked up. "Thanks again for your help, boys and lady. We're going to be sweeping for stragglers, like the Captain said, and I'd certainly feel a lot better if you stuck on for a bit. Me and Tiamat are also supposed to be talking to local heroes, either about joing the force or at least helping us out with info. We're here to tear these guys out root and stem- Sorry Naia." The girl, whose hood was down at the moment, frowned at her.

"Anyway, any help you kids feel like giving would be greatly appreciated."

Following the arrival of The Hounds, the destruction of S.T.R.I.K.E., and the withdrawl from the mission to capture the Alien. The Legate and the Legion were left as a free mercenary group with no limitations on their legal abilities, now fully autonomous they function as a PMC. The Legate himself has overworked himself and his suit to the point of failure. His chemical cocktail is in limited supply and in this current environment it is unsafe for him and his group to function, so long as The Hounds are still operating and aware of their existence.

For now they largely have separated and have taken on independent work until The Hounds have been destroyed or otherwise disposed of. They are fugitives to a criminal group that knows their identities, their pseudonyms and even their fingerprints. Separation was the only solution for survival, despite their wish to remain together as a cohesive unit.

The Legate set himself to physical training to maintain his abilities without the mechanical training of the S.T.R.I.K.E. foundation. Functionally he was maintaining his peak but with rapidly diminishing funds he was running out of options. He would need to find a way to augment his funding, work was out of the question. He was not normalized, he needed military work and something involving his training.

His brief time on the West Coast was unpleasant but now he was back on the East Coast, despite the proximity to The Hounds, this was familiar territory and he had at least some underground connections here. For now he would need to find something to occupy his time, as it stands he’s short of funds and needs to repair his armor.

On leaving his one bedroom apartment he found that downtown had been absolutely plastered with posters, something about a fight club. It didn’t matter to him until he read there was a cash prize. Some smug kid who’d trained in karate for a little while was probably beating up street punks. Sounded like easy money, five thousand smacks would be more than sufficient for purchasing the material to repair his suit.

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Nicole had had no intention of attending whatever the facility staff and residents had dubbed “The Showoffs”. The best case scenario, it was people showing each other what their powers did, but she feared it was probably going to be a terminally boring talent show, and she had no stomach for anything like that. So, grabbing a pair of slightly-too-tight loaner jeans, a green tank top that fit reasonably well, and a loose grey sweatshirt, she slipped past the front desk and off onto the streets of Little Ulster. She snickered to herself as she thought of a quote from her dorky sister’s favourite show and muttered, ”I aim to misbehave.”

Swiftly, however, she found that causing trouble was not going to be as simple as a walk down the street to pick a fight. Little Ulster looked fairly run down, but there was hardly anyone on the streets. She guessed it was probably all of the attacks she had heard some of the staff whispering about, but she was neither worried nor particularly upset by this. It meant less people to ask stupid questions like where her parents were, or even better, might lead to a toss-up with the Hounds themselves. After her last encounter with the group, she was almost itching to tangle with them again, hopefully this time without police interference.

Lost in her own thoughts, she ambled barefoot north, along Waters Street, angling through a disused park, and up two more streets that she didn’t even bother to learn the names of. This carried her up a block with some older looking buildings, all dirty white brickwork and the last few worn frescoes trying to show how long the place had been around, and what sorts of people had built it. But the grime of ages hadn’t been washed away in a while, and the troubles of the times had meant that trash collection and neighbourhood cleanup efforts had suffered. Right now, even with the few people left on the streets, it felt almost abandoned.

And then, with her thoughts completely blacking out her attention to the world around her, Nicky ran face first into a signpost. She fell back, blinking in surprise, and looked up from where she had landed on her butt to see a flyer for some sort of fighting competition. No, wait, not a competition. Fifty bucks entry, beat one guy and get five thousand back? Holy shit, I could buy anything I wanted with that kinda cash!. She spun on her heels, sprinted back to the facility, dashed upstairs, and rifled through her little filing cabinet in her makeshift bedroom, finding the small wad of cash she had been given a spending money. Entry fee secured, she bolted back the way she had come, snatched the flier off of the pole, and headed for the nearest open store to ask for directions.

``````````


Alex stood over the next victim. He didn’t know who this man was but he knew that he came in and ripped the sleeves off of his shirt to try and show his power. But unfortunately for him, power does not always win. Especially when all Alex had to do was throw the man over his shoulder and hit him a few times in the face. The man was groaning as his friends ran up to him trying to help him up. “Next time tell him that he needs to maybe actually know how to fight rather than using brute strength all the time. If I wasn’t so kind, he could get himself really hurt.” He would say as he walked back to his chair. He let out a loud sigh, “How many is that now?” he would ask as he looked over to one of his students who had a piece of paper with many different names on it that also seemed to be crossed out.
“Well, that was the 100th contestant… no one has lasted more than a minute against you Sensei.” The boy would say.

Alex sighed, when will he get a real challenge, when will he fight someone who is going to actually cause him to think and have fun. ”Can anyone here actually take a punch?” Alex would say as he sighed and watched all the people who had lined up begin to back away. He shook his head, he was so bored, he just wanted something that could entertain him. Once again he went back to thinking about the artifacts he was going to write and study about, unfortunately. They are gone along with the rest of the college.

[I][B]”I need to do something.”[/i][/b] Alex said as he stood up and the next person who was in line would back away and seem to look afraid as Alex approached. He would go down the line shaking his head at each person, he knew exactly if they stood a chance and he didn’t see any that would last very long against him. [I][B]”Fine”[/i][/b] he would say, ”If anyone can beat me. If anyone at all, I will give you $10,000 instead of $5000, It’s only fair right? I mean after all most of you look like you are about to soil yourselves.” The people in the line seemed to not move even at the news. Watching this would cause Alex to sigh and walk back to his chair. He sat back down as he hoped someone would come out and fight. ”Come on.. Anyone. Please.” It was almost funny, it seemed like he was begging the crowd to fight him, but no one seemed to move.

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With the flyer in hand, Legate walked down the street with his GPS in hand. Tracking the location by the provided address, his pocket jingling slightly with the dosage and some loose change. Each footstep brought him closer to extra cash to repair his armor, right now he was in his blue digital camo and looked very much like someone who was trying to look like a soldier. Tucked pants, tucked shirt, boots tied tight. His face turned towards what looked like the entrance to some run down meth den, the GPS blinked and told him this was the location.

Joseph’s face turned to a grimace, his paranoid predatory nature warned him that there would likely be armed junkies. His hand drifted to his waist where his knife was slipped into his belt, ready at any moment to lash out. Reaching out towards the door he turned the handle cautiously, pulling back until it was completely opened and scoped out the inside. It was surprising to find just a hallway leading to a second door.

Down the hallway he walked, measuring his steps and keeping his attention on his surroundings in case the walls suddenly burst open. As he approached the second door he prepared himself, slipping the oxygen tube on his collar into his mouth. He reached over his shoulder and turned his oxygen tank on, the rise in oxygen made him feel light and giddy. With oxygen intake raised he could now tolerate the drug and slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling the egg shaped container from his pants and unbuttoned his shirt collar.

Joseph pulled the egg apart with a twist and slipped the hypodermic needles from the bottom, placed it an inch above his collarbone. Similar to the insertion site of the Fast One Intraosseous Infusion System, he drove it down into his own chest and pushed down on the twisted portion of the egg shaped needle. The chemicals flowed into his body as close to his heart as possible, his eyes dilated sharply and widened. Exposing the entire whites of his eyes and flaring his nostrils, his face turned yet more aggressive. Cheeks pulling in, lips pulling back and exposing the red of his gums. Silence filled his mind and he pushed through the door, the first words that touched his ears were ‘If anyone can beat me. If anyone at all, I will give you $10,000 instead of $5000, It’s only fair right?’

Joseph Collins pushed aggressively through the doorway, the hinge came undone as it slammed against the wall and a small dent was smashed into the drywall. His face drew into a gross smile and he stomped towards the center ring, the soldier’s approach to the stage was gradual. ”Yes, that sounds wonderful.” The rest of Alex’s speech was turned into ringing, he couldn’t hear and at this point didn’t care to.

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Nicky walked through the front door of the building just as some gigantic soldier guy walked through another door down the hall. Her nose wrinkled at the faint stench of vomit at the entry to the place, and for once actually wished that sense had died off too. But the inside was clean enough, so her bare soles padded down the hall and followed the man, since she assumed anyone looking like that must be going to the same place.

Her ears caught, “Anyone? Please?” as she shoved in behind the soldier. Risking a glance up, she saw his eyes and immediately recoiled backwards, thankful that the flier had said she needed to fight one guy and not coked out drug fiends. Ripping her gaze off of the clearly inebriated man’s throbbing temple, she spotted the speaker, standing in the middle of a widening crowd of scared looking people. Guessing he was the guy she was supposed to fight, she stepped boldly in front of everyone, waving the flyer, and said, “Hey, I’m here to take five grand off of you, old man!”

Even as she said it, she sized him up. He was definitely well built, and since the whole place minus the crowd looked like something out of a kung fu movie, he probably knew what he was doing. Even his get-up made him look like a martial artist. Of course, that was the whole point. Nevertheless, as she pulled her hoodie off and held out her entry cash in an impatient fist, she grinned wolfishly. She hadn’t even bothered counting beyond knowing that it was enough. She had taken far worse than fists without a scratch, so victory was assured.

`````
Alex suddenly sat up at the man and the smaller girl barging through the crowd. He looked in between the two and seemed to tilt his head at their excitement. ”Interesting.” he’d say, ” You both want to fight? But neither of you have signed a waiver, or stood in line. Though I don’t think anyone is going to interrupt.” he’d continue to look between the two of them. He thought for a moment as a hand slowly went up to rub his chin.

”I could have you both fight each other, then whoever wins fights me. But that wouldn’t be fun.” he would look at the large man and then at the smaller female as he sighed, [I][B]“I’ll fight the girl first. Then I will fight you.” he would say pointing at the larger man. ”I hope that sounds fair. You, however, need to pay your fee..”
Alex would say as he walked out onto the mat. While he did a kid behind him would announce the rules. “You can win in a few ways.” he would say, “You can win by knockout, submission, knocking them out of the ring, or if it goes to time, you can win by points. Timer is set for one, eight minute round, so please try your best.” the boy would say as Alex simply nodded.

”Once you give the boy your money we can get started.” Alex said, he seemed a bit more excited about this fight, maybe he was actually going to be a challenge. Just maybe he was actually going to have some fun in this fight. Alexander seemed to get into a different stance then he had been, his center of gravity lowered his front foot pointed towards the big man. As was his back foot, his body was turned keeping his front torso away from sight and his hands at his chest and solar plexus level, his eyes narrowing while he waited patiently.

“What’s your name?” the boy who was walking up with a clipboard for her to sign something, and the boy had a hand out ready for the fee that was asked for.

”Nicole Macnamara,” she said as she dropped the cash in the boy’s hand. [color=azure] “What do you mean, points? There’s a scoring system for a fight?” She scrawled what looked like a doctor’s signature, just a series of squiggles more than any sort of legible form of lettering, across the bottom of the papers without bothering to read them. Scoffing, she muttered, “You couldn’t break me if you tried. Stupid paperwork, this better not get me in trouble.”

Calling out across the mat as she walked over, Nicky asked, ”So, what are the points and how do I get them? ‘Cause you’re not gonna fuckin’ make me submit, old man, and good fuckin’ luck knocking me out.”

-------------------
The boy would nod. “The paperwork is merely saying, we aren’t responsible for any damages to your body or belongings.” he’d say as he looked at the signature with a bit of a judgmental glare. He couldn’t have been much older than Nicky, he was obviously young, maybe even younger.

He would straighten up, “Points are based off of hits received, and given, technique and takedowns.” The boy would say.

Alex stood across in his stance still glaring at this girl who seemed all too confident in herself ”I wonder, what makes you so confident, girl. I also wonder why you are so angry..” he’d say his stance never changing as he simply stayed there, it was obvious he was prepared, and he was clearly warmed up. But there was a sort of cockiness in his tone as he spoke to her.

”Well, tell ya what, you smarmy asshole. How bout I give you a free point and you find the fuck out?” She stalked toward him, no defense apparent, with her jaw stuck out until, until she stood directly inside punching range, wide open.

Alex would simply chuckle shaking his head, this was entertaining for sure, she walked up with no stance and gave him no reason to not just hit her. But he wasn’t going to hit her in the face, that was predictable. ”Fine, you cocky little girl, I will show you to mess with your elders.” he’d say as he would suddenly move forward sweeping at her ankle to try and knock her down. If she got knocked down he would bring a fist right into her stomach to force her body further into the ground.

Nicky’s eyes went wide as he went for the sweep, and went tumbling down, then slammed into the ground and took the punch hard. However, she showed no reaction at all other than a narrowing of her eyes as she grabbed the elbow of the arm she had been hit with and swung with a haymaker, straight from the ground, with her right hand, aiming for his temple even if she didn’t know how to land it properly.

He would have stood over her letting his hand linger there for too long before he felt a hand grasping at his elbow. Suddenly feeling a punch to his head he would seem to back up for a moment. The crowd gasping as it was the first hit anyone had landed. [I][B]”Interesting.”[/i][/b] He would say out loud as he looked at her. Maybe he had underestimated this girl afterall. He would wait for her to get back up and when she did he would jump into being so close his hands were resting against her arms, if she tried to attack with one of her arms he would have the opening to go underneath and block the attack while punching toward her face.

Getting to her feet and finding the guy first politely waiting for her and then suddenly almost nose to nose with her, she did the only two things she knew how to do in this situation. Training by her Dad in how to deal with overaggressive boys kicked in, and her knee rose towards his crotch while she threw herself forward in a headbutt with her back foot.

He would bring his own leg up to block the attack to his crotch, but the headbutt. That was too abnormal he wasn’t expecting it. He felt her head smash against his. The crowd gasping again. ”You attack like a wild animal..” he’d say grimacing. ”Okay. Let’s see how you do.” he’d say as he went right back to his original position right in front of her face. He would follow it up though with a punch aiming at her right shoulder trying to make it straighten itself forward, if that worked he’d grab her arm to try and throw her on the ground and punch her face while he did.

Again, he was back in her face. Only this time he did something to her shoulder, and then suddenly she was back on the ground and getting hit in the face. She felt her nose squash in, but just like always, it never broke and there was no pain. She looked at him from past his extended fist and growled out, ”Your mom’s a wild animal, shitbird. Is that the hardest you can hit?” As she uttered the last few words, her hands planted on either side of her head and she swung with every ounce of effort she could with her foot, lifting her back off the ground to get some additional reach. Her soccer playing days had left a lot of muscle in her legs, and her toes came in exceedingly fast and strong towards his ribs.

Alex would feel the kick in his ribs. It did hurt, more than he thought it would. He would back up for a moment. Anger was starting to form across his face as he waited for her to stand back up. ”You should be careful with what you say, and to who you say it to.” he’d say with a snarl. When she got back up he would press the distance quickly as he started to throw a chop at the side of her neck and then a palm to her chest, only to be followed up with a whirl of punches to the chest. One punch after another, as his hands seemed to go in a circle as he would hit and pull back constantly if he was able to land them. Each punch had a bit more power in it now, as if he was starting to fight seriously. His stance unchanging as he attacked her relentlessly trying to use the punches to force her into the ground.

Having started to get the idea behind this guy, as soon as she was on her feet she launched herself forward with a snarl. She ignored the hit to her neck, and pressed through the palm strike, but the rapid fire punches caught her by surprise and she felt herself fly backwards a few feet and skid across the ground. She laughed as she got up and said, ”Shit yeah, now we’re cookin’ with charcoal! Let’s see if we can get you up to propane, fancypants!” She ran forward again, and, having nothing to base her judgement on, dove into a feet-first slide and tried to land a full-powered kick into his stomach as she came to a stop.

Alex wasn’t playing around anymore, in fact he was angry at this girl, angry she had said anything about his parents. He let Chi start to flow into him, all of time seemed to slow as he took a deep breath, his reflexes and strength beginning to heighten as his chi flowed through his body. He would watch her as she came sliding forward her feet coming up he would move to the side as he would kick at her popliteal fossa, which if landed it would cause her legs to fold and tighten. If that happened he would grab at her legs and try to toss her out of the ring, maybe even at the wall close-by.

Nicky yelped as she felt her knee close from pressure on a tendon, though no pain was present. Rough hands grabbed her leg and she felt herself begin to swing across the mat. Not yet, you fuuuck! she thought. Seeing only one way out, she reached out with her hands and snatched at the man’s gi pants, trying to snag a fistful and hang on through sheer force of will. If it worked, she’d be able to get a better grip and punch him in the side of the knee, trying to do the same thing to him he had just done to her.

At the edge of the ring, Collins drooling and predatory observed the confrontation between the two. Though watching both of their movements, The Legate most closely and aggressively watched the movements of the martial artist. The girl was strong indeed, a powerful ability she seemed to have, but nothing useful to the Legate for his upcoming match.

He was precise, aggressive, and forceful. Putting a lot of power into many strikes to drive his opponent into the ground and keep them there, but she was still standing thus far. No blood yet, either. From her appearance she seemed young, at least late teens.

From his experience with xenos, metas, and bots. The most likely option was meta, as they were the most common scum. Though he remained hopeful that perhaps this was a machine, usually they were more reliable than metas.

The Legate’s looming may have been eerie to watchers and maybe even the fighters, but he did not show any signs of entering the ring. They were unmolested for now.

Alex would begin to try to fling her only to feel her grab hold of his pants. He felt a fist in the back of his leg making it begin to buckle. But he wasn’t going to be outdone by some little girl. Using his strength and the force of him beginning to fall he would shove the girl’s knees into her chest to curl her up like a ball. Why wouldn’t she get hurt? Why is she just able to withstand everything? These were the questions that ran through his head for a moment before he decided he was going to make her hurt. After pushing her legs to her chest he would jump back up and go for a kick straight to her jaw, which would instantly if hit be followed up with a heel to the face with the same foot, then another kick with his other foot to the ribs.

Nicky didn’t know what he was expecting when he dropped onto her chest. Maybe that she’d get winded? Didn’t matter, as soon as he paused, looking like he was planning something, she lashed out with both fists, trying to land hits to his face or ribs. As he was getting up, she did the same, only to take a foot to the jaw, snapping her head back. A heel drove down on the back of her head, slamming her back into the ground face first. Another shot landed on her ribs as she was getting back up. Even so, she just stood up and grinned. Not a smidge of blood or bruise blossomed on her face as she gave the man a wink and said, mockingly, [color=azure]”That the best you got? C’mon, at least try to hurt me. I wanna see why all these other people were so scared when I walked in!”[/i][/color]

Alex growled at her as she spoke as he had already taken way more blows from her then he should have and the last couple that landed at his ribs were not something he was happy about. This girl was starting to piss him off. But she was also at least making it entertaining. [I][B]”Interesting. What is it about you that keeps you from being hurt? Is it chi? Are you actually someone else in disguise of a girl? An illusion?”[/i][/b] he would ask her as he moved forward slowly. ”Regardless, I’m done playing.”

If she was watching and if anyone else would notice his stance seemed to change. One foot forward it was facing towards the girl, the other one was turned to the side. Suddenly he leaped off of that back foot; he could feel the chi flowing through him now as his movements were getting faster, and each punch more powerful. His attacks coming wide and to her side, his punches would look almost like haymakers, which if she tried to block, the other hand that wasn’t attacking would do a straight jab at her face and chest. After sending a few of these attacks, he would throw a kick at her, but only feigning it as his other foot left the ground to try and drive a heel into her side with full force.

”Playing, huh? That’s-” Her smartass remark was cut off by a punch landing on her jaw, snapping it shut with an audible clack as her head twisted from the force. Anyone watching might have noticed her tongue get caught in her teeth, but it slid back in with no bleeding or, more likely, a severed chunk falling out. She swung her head back to look at him, only to take another blow, and then another back to her ribs from the other side. She growled and launched a fully telegraphed, over-the-shoulder jab directly at him, but only made it halfway before yet again getting hit in the ribs and sliding backwards.

”Okay, what the fu-” The heel in her side cut her off, and she slid sideways a foot before toppling over from overbalance. Climbing back to her feet like some sort of impenetrable golem, she thought back to all the kung fu movies she used to watch, and struck what she thought was probably a good stance, left foot forward and both hands out, fingers pointed down. ”To answer your question before you so rudely interrupted me,” she spat out with vehemence, ”They have no idea. Someone said something about time, but I don’t understand that bullcrap. All I know is that I don’t sleep, don’t eat, and can’t be cut, stabbed, or blown up. So like I said, good luck knocking me out, fuck face.”

”Interesting.” he would say before nodding at the situation in front of him, understanding slightly better now. ”It is too bad you fight like a wild dog, and that your Mantis, is awful.” he would say before giving out a deep sigh. ”Listen. I don’t need to knock you out, that’s the thing with fights. You can’t just win by knocking your opponent out or submitting. You can make it so they can’t move. You could throw them outside of the ring or battle area, perhaps even off of a cliff. In a real fight there will be no points, but in this one there is, and I would suggest you start to land more punches.” he would say calmly while nodding at her, it was as if he was no longer angry, there seemed to be a sense of a calm teacher in his voice. ”You know.. If you think you can actually land a hit.” he would say a grin growing on his face as his stance changed once more.

His arms would be slightly bent as index finger and middle finger bulged out, his torso turning away from her as he revealed the side of his body only. He bent down his legs slightly as he watched and waited for her, if she were to come she would find that for every punch she threw at him he would block and quickly strike a join to cause the join to react in a way that would either tighten the appendage or cause it to buckle. If she was careful enough though, she might just be able to find a flaw.

She dropped her stance as soon as he started talking, hands at her sides and back on one foot, looking extremely arrogant. ”Sure, for you real fights are like that, but I am all about beating people once they can’t swing any more.” At the jab at her ability to land a punch however, her eyes narrowed and she stared at him, jaw set and face scowling. But she didn’t move yet. She knew from just now that he had been toying with her, and that he could move far faster than he had at the beginning. Hit harder, too, if they way she had been flung about was any indication. Watching him take his stance, she knew this was a trap, but a part of her was well pleased with herself that she had gotten him to at least realise she wasn’t some stupid teenager.

She eyed him carefully, trying to figure out what he might do. Having been hit by him quite a bit in the past few minutes, she knew he would probably counter attack (was that the right word? She didn’t know), and since he looked all calm and was dispensing advice, probably try to end it by throwing her again. But she also knew that she had caught him by surprise several times, so she decided she was going to use everything she had to try that one last time. She bolted forward suddenly on powerful runner’s legs, and cocked one arm back, with a guiding hand forward, almost begging to get hit with a jab. She was going to try to time this carefully, and when the blow came, either face or ribs, grab his arm at the elbow and spin it behind him before punching him either in the spine or the back of the head with everything she had.

Alex stood there waiting for the punch he simply watched her, time was seeming to go so slowly for him. The second he saw the arm begin to extend he slid his front foot to the inside of her legs as a small but very quick jab shot right into her cubital fossa. Which would cause the arm to collapse in on itself. His movements were still at the same speed he had been going, where there was no time to rest or to think, it made it feel like he was moving in one fluid motion,

He would feel a hand grab onto his arm as his eyes narrowed at the attempt to move behind him. His leg would move up trying to hit her kneecap to cause it to buckle and throw her off balance. While his other hand would shoot out trying to smash into her elbow with force. If successful, it would force her arm to straighten. If he was able to do that his other hand would go to her hip trying to land a jab at the soft spot near the pelvis, which if landed would also cause the leg under that spot to tighten up to throw her even further off balance.

He went for it! she had time to think, before she felt the tendon in her elbow bend. She used that to snag his arm as the limb collapsed, but then his speed came fully into play. One shot straightened her elbow out again with surprising force, but she felt it bounce like a spring instead of snap. Another shot was heading for her hip, and she felt it make contact, but she had already formed a new plan. As her arm sprung back into a natural shape, her other arm flew up and went for a grab on his shoulder. The hit to her hip slowed her down, but she hauled on his arm to lift herself up. Using the leg that hadn’t been knocked funny, she tried to plant a foot on his thigh and throw herself along his arm into a diving headbutt into his face, dragging his arm along her belly to keep him from blocking her. As she threw herself forward, her only thought was to grin wildly at him.

He would be almost caught off guard by the attack, he sighed as the headbut came flying in. I guess if she can’t be hurt there is no harm done he thought to himself. He closed his eyes as he focused, anyone who could sense energy would be able to feel a very old energy beginning to flow through his body. His eyes snapped open as her head would smash against his. But to her, it would be like smashing right into a metal beam. There was no give, there was nothing but hardness to his head.

This old chi would make him grin, it felt good, he hadn’t gotten to use it in so long. He forgot just how much it boosted his perception, his strength, and especially his speed. He would grab her by the hair and attempt to toss her full force out of the ring and into a pillar with all of his strength.

Nicky blinked as she flew through the air. Did he just throw me by the hair!? she thought, as she passed over the heads of some of the onlookers. She felt her spine impact some sort of object with a resounding CRACK, then bounced off of it onto the floor in a pile of tumbling wood splinters, revealing the concrete beneath, which, having more give than Nicky did, had chipped somewhat on impact. She regained her orientation after the sudden changes in direction and stood up, brushing all the bits out of her hair, then stared at the man who had just defeated her. For a long moment, it looked as if she might charge back, but then her eyes flicked down at where she stood and she realised how far she had gone. ”Awww, fuck. Alright, old man, I suppose you win. That’s me out fifty bucks, too. At least you didn’t tie me into a bike rack like the last asshole.”

As she put her hands on her head and sighed, she continued. ”Actually, that was the most fun I’ve had in a while. And I’m gonna thank you now, because next up is the giant fucker over there who looks like he did eight packets of PCP and a shit-ton of coke before he came in.” She thrust her chin forward towards the soldier in the blue camo with a grin. ”So good luck, man. I wanna be able to come back and fight again, and I can’t do that if you’re a greasy smear on the floor.”

Alex bowed to her. ”Yes it was quite entertaining..” he would say as the rest of the onlookers seemed to look in sheer horror and shock at what just happened. Alexander seemed to tilt his head at her statement. ”Do you get beat like this often?.” he’d ask curiously. ”If so, you are always welcome to join me for lessons.. That was fun enough, that i’d be willing to let you train for free as long as you continue to spar with me when I am bored..”

He looked to the other man and would bow to him too, ”If you wish to fight, you need to pay your fee as well. And sign the Waiver. If you wish to get started now, we can, or we can start in a little bit if you’d like me to rest up.” Alex spoke with a calm manner as he observed this big man, looking at how he stood and if he could see anything that seemed like a habit that he could take advantage of.

Nicky smiled, looking almost disarmingly normal except for the bits of wood still sticking out of her hair and the destruction behind her. ”Sure, old man, I might actually like that, and I’m only a few blocks from here.” Her smile turned a little wolfish as she saw some of what she now realised were students recoil in horror at the sudden thought of sparring with her in a regular classroom setting. ”Again, that sorta depends on him not spazzing out and killing you, though.” She turned to the larger man. ”You need to get a towel or something, fuckface, you’re drooling all over yourself.”

Legate turned his attention away from the woman’s exit from the ring, she’d taken quite the beating but was still unharmed. That she was a machine was still the predominant theory in his head. “Yes, rest if you must. I have time.” He spat and spoke through his teeth, pacing back and forth along the edge of the ring. “If you must rest I am unopposed to it.”

Alex would bow at the man as one of the boys walked up with a waiver and a hand out to receive the fee. “You need to sign this sir.” he’d say nervously. Alexander would walk over to his chair and grab a water bottle. He would start to slowly drink from it before putting it down and walking back out onto the mat and sitting there. He would go cross legged and close his eyes. ”This should only take me a couple minutes. Let me meditate and clear my head.” he would say to the man. ”During this time you can introduce yourself if you’d like.”

The tall man turned towards the younger boy, grabbing the waiver from his hand and signing in a false name and manufactured signature.”I am Joseph, since you may not read the waiver.” He shoved the paper and a fifty dollar bill back into the boy’s hand and turned back to the ring, stepping inside and pacing back and forth. “You said the prize was doubled. Does that still stand?” Though he didn’t look at Alex his attention was very much on him.

Alex stayed in that position for a few minutes. Eventually though standing up again with a deep breath would smile at the man and bow. ”Joseph, I assume you don’t need the rules repeated for you, right?” he would ask as his front foot would slowly slide along the mat pointing directly at the man in front of him, the other foot was sideways behind it, his palms open slightly as his arms formed an X in front of him. ”I am ready when you are, as long as you don’t need to hear the rules again.”

The Legate turned entirely towards Alex with a broad stance, left foot leading and hight foot pointing away from his center. Bent slightly at the knees and standing light on the heel, his white knuckled fists rose up to his septum and he tucked his chin back, raising his eyes over the bridge of his hands. It looked entirely southpaw in a traditional boxer’s stance, albeit a bit wider than would be conventionally used. “You first.”

Location: Lost Haven
Time: Early afternoon

As David flew down to the other three he had retracted and submerged most of the earthen cover slabs he had drawn up during the fight, with Tiamat and the Hounds taken care of they wouldn’t be needed any more. He was aware that one of the other “heroes” had blown another helicopter out of the air, which certainly was a big help. Despite surviving a barrage of machine-gun fire and missiles he hadn’t exactly brushed off the attacks, as expected from military grade weapons, they certainly packed a punch.

David wondered briefly exactly how long he could withstand sustained gunfire from a helicopter, it wasn’t that he wanted to test it, but that might be hand to know one day, to know exactly how tough he was. Along with the upper limits of his powers, to date he usually slapped people around, maybe even zap them a little to disarm them, but only twice had he had to put some extra “oomph” into his attacks. That’s really something he needs to test out, it’d be bad if he suddenly lost power mid-air or something.

The woman from earlier, Broadway, had approached them. Her demeanor reminded him of a showgirl, very flashing, literally, and she had a similar attitude about her. He briefly wondered if she had tried to take to the stage with her powers, there were a few people on television just like that with varying levels of success, Maddie loves those kinds of shows, and maybe he could get an autograph.

Hhmm, no paper or pen on me, no chance.

"Anyway, any help you kids feel like giving would be greatly appreciated." She said, and David laughed in his mind. His face would probably be smiling right now if it could, he had also turned his head slightly, a habit of his he hadn't bothered suppressing.

Heheh, I’m not that old, but I’m certainly not young. That other man might be in the same boat.

“Certainly, I’d be fine giving another go around the block. Along with helping clean up those helicopters.” David said, he held out his hand to the others a moment later.

“While we’re here, I’m Terra Firma.”

If any accepted his hand he’d give them a good shake with some firmness to it, but nothing too rough. If any of the others introduce themselves he would ask about Tiamat and her condition. He saw she was under quite a bit of fire earlier, along with the fact that she lost control of her powers; he also wanted to talk to her personally to see her condition, maybe even get a way to contact her later. There might come a day when he or she would need some help, and it would be good to build up a network of friendly super heroes.

To be honest, Kayla wasn’t expecting much of a response to her using a radio that belonged to law enforcement. However, after a few seconds, a response that cleared up at least what was going on here and why she had to pull away from finding Nemesis. "This conflict will not be resolved until all of the Hounds are apprehended, killed, or incapacitated. The Hinds are the biggest issue, take them down." As the person responded, the archer looked over the fight, seeing who was the one that responded to her. She did see someone out of the ordinary go into the van. Though she wasn’t able to see him clearly, the fact that he wasn’t wearing any of the clothing of the so-called Hounds and the other group with a large-ish thing on the side of his belt made her think that he was the one who responded. And whatever was in that van was probably going to be used to hit the remaining choppers that were in the air. Asking for two more seeds from the plant marsupial, Fletch did the same thing with them to the arrow and began aiming at the next closest chopper and began to aim.

She was about to release the arrow when she saw them fire. Fletch began to run to the next building to jump onto but the resulting explosion stopped her in her tracks. She looked over her parapet and saw a hole that was left in the building. Seeing that she was not the target, she began aiming again. However, as something covered in flames shot out of the hole past the helicopters, she paused and safely eased the tension in the bow. She just managed to hear what the flame-covered figure said, “I was looking forward to an easy weekend, let me help you show you what I mean!” Shortly afterwards, electricity shot out of the figure, damaging the two helicopters to the point that their rotors stopped. Two large hands rose from the earth to catch them. She thought she had seen everything when she was with War-Pulse and Evergreen, but she hadn’t caught a full glimpse of a meta using their powers. She found it rather awe-inspiring rather than scary as by now, she was just accepting the new norm with the metas around.

She turned back to the black van the man hopped in just in time to see it drive off to an alleyway. Even from this distance, the roar of the machine gun was audible. Shortly after the gun stopped firing, the same man jumped out and began scouting around. Just as he checked one area, one Hound emerged with the assault rifle and turned towards him. Thinking on her feet, she raised the bow again and shot at the man’s feet, remembering that she had the seeds attached to the arrow tip. The weight of the seeds on the end at such a long distance had caused the arrow to drop short, but the resulting explosion from the arrow had sent the Hound flying back into the alleyway where he came from. Another Hound had started to emerge from the alleyway but was met with another arrow to the leg, sending them to the floor yelping in pain. Grabbing the radio, she pressed the send button ”Not sure about you, but I think there are more of those Hounds in the alleyway that is nearby. My arrows might make it, but I think you can take care of those as you’re closer.” Putting the radio back on the belt loop on her right hip, she began drawing arrows and shot down at the Hounds below her, raining arrows down with deadly accuracy with the aim to maim them out of the fight.

----------

After all that, she had managed to come down from her perch and joined up with the rest of the people that had joined up in the fight against the Hounds. She managed to gather up all of the arrows that were used, punching the lights out of the Hounds that had them embedded in various limbs. There were some that she’d never recover, but at least they’re in a million pieces as a result of their explosions. Though now that everything was over and done with, she could get a look at the people she had been assisting. The first man was the one she spotted on the rooftops and spoke with on the radio. She simply nodded at him, attaching the compound bow to its clasp on her left hip. The other guy she assumed was the one covered in flames that took down the other two helicopters. She didn’t look at the woman that was with them simply because of the way she glowed. Over the past few hours, she had to deal with gangs warring with each other and tracking down a meta that had been taken by Richard Midas, so she was exhausted and needed some form of sleep to recuperate from the events of everything.

"Thanks again for your help, boys and lady. We're going to be sweeping for stragglers, like the Captain said, and I'd certainly feel a lot better if you stuck on for a bit. Me and Tiamat are also supposed to be talking to local heroes, either about joining the force or at least helping us out with info… Anyway, any help you kids feel like giving would be greatly appreciated."

Kayla had acknowledged the girl that had arrived in the group. She raised her right hand to her chin, her thumb and index finger grasping her chin as it curled into a fist. Her eyes though the yellow lenses appeared to be someone in thought about the proposition about joining the force or not. ”I’ll definitely help with finding the stragglers,” she finally spoke, lowering her right hand again. ”Probably be best if we start taking groups to each side of the plaza and work back a couple of blocks until we reach the police lines that would no doubt be up from this fight.” She paused for a second, thinking about the offer. ”As for joining the force, I’d need to think about it. I have a lot of things on my cards at the moment, especially with finding a certain meta and tracking down the Pe…” She stopped herself from finishing as she doesn’t know how much information the police have said about her and the possible involvement of the Penose in whatever they have against her. ”Regardless, I’d be more than happy to pass on any information that you’d require for any future investigations.”

“While we’re here, I’m Terra Firma.”

Fletch looked at the guy who took down the other two helicopters. He agreed to make a sweep of the area, given his flight capabilities. She noticed that his hands were held out to form a handshake with the others that were here. She pondered on the thought for the moment, ”While it is nice to meet you, Terra Firma, I hope you’d understand if I don’t shake. Had too many incidents in the past where trust was abused.” In her mind, she wanted to trust the heroes that were around her. But each time she thought about trusting someone, her thoughts turned back to memories of Jason and things that happened during the months after his murder. As she thought about the memories, Archie made its appearance and climbed out of her trouser pocket to her shoulder, its eyes looking at others in the group”… The name is Fletch and this little fella is Archie. Anyway, we should start that sweep to make sure there’s no pocket where the Hounds are holed up in.”

The horrible sucking noise finally died away as the creature finished removing the last of the meat from the finger bone it was holding. Casually it tossed the remains out of the driver side window of the rustbucket speeding east along the highway. With great delicacy, a long, sinuous tongue poked out from beneath too many sharpened teeth and removed the blood from it's clawed fingers on its free hand, as the other gripped the steering wheel, guding the machine at more than ninety miles an hour down the asphalt river.

Beside it, in the passenger seat, rested what was left of the hitchhiker. The heart had been removed first, as always, and the skin had been stuffed into a bag for proper assimilation later. The legs, torso, and head still remained attached, but the arms and organs had already been consumed, along with the brain, extricated from the hole it had punched in the man's skull. He had been older, the meat gamey, but satisfying enough to keep it sustained while it pursued its true prey.

The girl had escaped, and it had taken the skinwalker several days to discover where sh had disappeared to. With any other potential target, it would have abandoned the chase and settled in for something else, but it needed the girl's powers so badly. As it was, without them, it had had to bend far north avoided the Mississippi entirely, along with all the other rivers in its way. But once it caught up with her, and took her, it could circumvent the ages old curse placed on it by the shamans, and finally take its revenge. And after that? Who knew? Maybe it would go see what it could find in the Old World!

It turned its head, currently a terrifying mishmash of coyote and the hitchhiker himself, to look at the remains of its last victim. In a horrible, mangled, and distorted voice, it said, "What do you think, my friend? Which nation should I terrorise first?"

It paused a beat, one lupine ear cocking as if it was listening, and then burst out into laughter. "You're right, of course! I should make sure they all pay!" Twisted knuckles gripped the steering wheel, tight enough to dent the rubber and slightly damage the metal underneath.

"They will all pay for this curse," it growled, staring ahead at the road with mucous-encrusted yellow eyes.

---

Ophelia's smile gave the same feeling to observers that a tiger's face might when they spotted it peering through the bushes at them. Her occidental eyes narrowed slightly and she listened to the voicemail on her answering system, then set the handset down and leaned back in her chair. Perfectly manicured black fingernails tapped out a staccato pattern on the glass surface of her desk as her mind raced furiously. Behind her, clouds had begun gathering, viewable through the floor-to-ceiling windows in her office. InGen had been good to her, and it got the loyalty they had bet on from her.

After less than a week, the detective had gotten back to her, letting her know that the girl had been snatched up by a local study group. He had also let her know quite a few personality details on the subject, probably more than he should have, but he had sounded very overworked. Understandable, considering the climate of the times. Nonetheless, she was pleased to find out how acerbic and restless the girl was. They might not be able tyo contact her at the facility she was in, but it wouldn't be long before she left it either out of personality clashes or boredom. Either way suited Ophelia fine.

Fingers swiftly typed out a few emails from her discreet account. As those order went out, agents would begin watching the place, and monitoring the comings and goings of every person that frequented the place. A further thought, and another amended report, and they'd watch everyone who visited even once. She might have asked higher ups for clearance, but she had been told already in no uncertain terms to use whatever resources necessary to bring the girl in without tipping her off as to what they wanted.

She could have gone for a smash and grab. It would use less resources and be faster, but her employers knew when they set her on this task that wasn't her style. Given the option (and she was sure to get the option, she would engineer it to be so), she would convince the girl that InGen was the only available group that could solve her problems. At this point it was simply a matter of time.

Ophelia pressed a button on her intercom with one long, slim finger. Amy's voice immediately chimed in. "What can I get for you, Ms. Yamato?"

"Go out and get us some lunch, Amy. And a bottle of something delicious. It looks like a celebration is in order tonight."

---

Sebastian stood, leaning on a cane of magically worked driftwood, and reviewed his work. Behind him, Abraxus chittered in his native language through the silver mirror hanging on the wall, a recent acquisition.

Arrayed in front of the necromancer were two score servants, reanimated from human corpses and enhanced by magic and material. While they wouldn't pass as living humans, they were stronger and faster than those weak living creatures. In addition, unlike the Fetchbeast he had sent out earlier, he had rigged the same sort of system he had in the harpy, albeit in a much more roughshod fashion than the creation that had nearly destroyed him. These were more stable, at the sacrifice of a good portion of their intelligence. But unless they were utterly destroyed or magically interrupted, these would last as long as necessary, until he disposed of them himself.

Arranged in front of them were a dozen reanimated pigeons, another twoscore of rats, and five cats. These, while no stronger or faster than their living counterparts, were constantly beaming their sensory inputs to Abraxus, serving the double purpose of scouting for him and keeping the demon familiar too distracted to plan against its master.

"Go, my servants. Find the harpy. Bring me more materials. Bring me information as to the state of the world above. Destroy those who would oppose me."

The creatures shuffled out towards the mouth of the cave, revealing the workbench and the piled extra materials to make more. Abraxus had been busy, and after the first few zombies had been built, the flow of materials had become steady and satisfactory. Before, in the shack, Sebastian had been content to do his research and build his single servant. But now, with much of his humanity stripped away from the 'healing' of his injuries, he knew that he was superior to those in the city above, and his place was to rule them, not slink about in their shadows at the edge of civilisation.

Abraxus turned slightly, and the mirror reflected the demon's grin at the back of it's "master". Soon enough, his influence wouldn't be necessary. The man was nearly gone already.

---

Emily sighed, staring at the cork board suspended on the wall at one end of the office. The plan had been to track the criminal across Southern California, but situations had exploded out of control across the US with these "chiens", and they had been reassigned to help out the US in dealing with it. Later on, when everything had calmed down, they would reorient on their target.

This had led to the cork board, which was nearly eighteen square feet and covered in maps, notes, pins, and threads. All of the information they had gathered over the last forty-eight hours. And it isn't close to being enough, Emily though. How had they gotten so big so fast? She knew from her cirminology classes at the university that radicalisation could go unnoticed for decades before finally swelling into a terrorist plot, only manifesting in tiny patches that were easily explained as lone crazies until threads were put together. But metahumans hadn't been prevalent nearly as long as other issues that usually led to such organisations.

It was terrifying to her, and not just for personal reasons. Her own digging had found that Zoë had manifested her own powers as well before disappearing, and Emily was beginning to think that perhaps her sister wasn't dead. No bodies matching her description, no eyewitness accounts, nothing that provided evidence of a death. Her parents had said it was useless, that her sister was gone. Her brother got angry whenever she broached the subject, and her grandfather, the one closest to Zoë before she had run away, only wiped tears away and turned back to his crops. More and more, however, Emily had become convinced her sister still lived. And so she had spent her spare time and what little money she had digging into the circumstances of the fire that was her only lead.

Now, however, she was too busy to do anything on that front. The Hounds demanded all of her attention, and whatever other threat they posed to her as a secret metahuman, too many innocent people were being killed, and even more thinking this sort of behaviour was justified. It had to be stopped now.

The hospital room was quiet, except for the electronic beeps emitted from the patient monitor. Just like the last couple days since the incident involving the Hounds, the team of doctors, tasked at finding some sort of solution for Chris’ coma, left for the night empty handed and defeated. In most cases, the only cure for a coma was time and patience. However, due to the audacity of the Hounds of Humanity, neither could be a luxury for the hero.

Suddenly, a swirling portal slowly developed in the room, growing larger and larger until it was about the size of an average man. Once it was stable, two figures entered the room via the portal. The first individual was the Son of Osiris, wielding his ankh-bearing staff. Meanwhile, he was followed by another member of the Immortals, Firefox. Although the Son of Osiris could easily create portals for himself, the energy necessary to heal not one, but two critically injured people would sap his magical energies quite quickly. Therefore, Firefox came along so that, once Osiris needed to return to his meditative state, she could provide warp transportation with her powers.

“I wonder why that girl didn’t come along with us?” Firefox mused aloud while the Son of Osiris, making sure not to trip any alarms, carefully examined the comatose hero.

I believe that armor used to belong to this man’s ex, who happened to turn out to be an advanced and intelligent android.

“Doesn’t want to look like his ex when he wakes up? Makes sense.” Firefox replied while checking the vitals displayed on the monitor next to the hospital bed.

Now that everything was ready, the Son of Osiris held his staff over Chris. The ankh that crowned the staff began to grow blue while emitting a light of the same color. These rays of light penetrated into the comatose man’s skin. After a a few seconds basking in this healing aura, it soon became clear that the treatment was working.

Jolted awake by the mystic energy, Chris immediately sat up in his hospital bed. At first, he was clearly disoriented and confused. However, as he got ahold of his bearings, he finally calmed down.

“If you keep this up, not even my fortune could ever repay the debt that I would owe you.” Chris said with a smile and a laugh.

I believe there are more pertinent matters at hand than that.

“Like the Hounds,” Chris said as he suddenly remembered how he found himself comatose in a hospital in the first place. He tried to pull himself out of the hospital bed, but Firefox rushed over to stop him.

“You still need to rest a little,” Firefox told Chris. “While Osiris did heal you, that doesn’t mean you’re at 100 percent yet.”

I’m sure the other heroes can handle things while you get back on your feet.

Then, just as quickly as they had appeared on the scene, the Son of Osiris and Firefox departed, this time through one of Firefox’s portals. However, before they left, Firefox gave Chris some parting words.

“You might want to check in on your girlfriend,” Firefox recommended. “She was awfully distraught about your injury.”

And with those words, they were gone. This left Chris alone to ponder his next actions, or at least until the standby medical staff burst into the room once they had become aware of Chris’ miraculous recovery.

Travis Murdock stood in front of the massive computer bank that lined the inside of the Hounds of Humanity’s command center just outside of Lost Haven. This was where he would monitor the numerous operations that his subordinates would carry out across the country. At the very beginning, things were going very well. The Hounds of Humanity had eliminated a number of metahumans targets all over the US, including the very organization which had been tasked with keeping the meta threat at bay, S.T.R.I.K.E. Unfortunately, Director Anderson and the pencil pushers in Washington had come out decidedly soft on the metahumans.
However, recently the metahumans began fighting back.

They had suffered losses in Pacific Point, Crown Ridge, and Lost Haven, among other sites. In fact, with the exception of Captain Dahl, Murdock had been extremely disappointed in his subordinates. Murdock had watched as his forces suffered loss after loss, and the leader of the Hounds of Humanity found this string of defeats to be utterly unacceptable. He knew that there must be something that he was missing, so he took a seat behind the main computer terminal and began to analyze the data. He knew that if he just looked hard enough, he’d find a way to turn things back in the Hounds’ favor.

However, after several moments of going over the information before him, his eyes began to gloss over, his mind became somewhat foggy and he was no longer in the Hounds’ bunker, he was someplace else, in another time altogether.

The sun was shining brightly on this bitter cold day. The day before saw a snowstorm that had covered the streets of Lost Haven in a blanket of crisp white snow that had transformed the city into a true winter wonderland. The holidays were only a few weeks away, and with the newly fallen snow, Murdock had been reminded of the Holidays of his youth, and he wanted nothing more than to relive those memories with his own family. Having recently moved to Lost Haven from Arizona, his daughter Judith, nor his wife Lilly, both being native Sun Devils, had never experienced anything like this. The city streets were lined with Christmas trees, each decorated and illuminated by row after row of lights. The shops were also festively decorated; lights and tinsel adorned the doorways of some, while others chose a more naturalistic look, choosing instead wreaths and strands of pine. Judith rushed enthusiastically from tree to tree, looking at all of the decorations, which had been provided by the local elementary school children. Only taking her attention from the trees long enough to look in the window of The Toy Case, a local toy store which had an impressive display of MyGirl dolls in the front window.

“Look at this Daddy!” She had gleefully called to him.

Then in an instant, everything changed.

There was no warning of any danger in the vicinity. There was just an explosion. One moment Lilly and Judith had been looking at the “North Pole” MyGirl doll display in the window, then an instant later, there was a loud noise, and then nothing but darkness. At first, Murdock had thought he was dead. However, after the initial shock of the blast had worn off, he tried to get to his feet. His legs were like spaghetti at first, making it difficult to get firm footing. His ears were ringing. He stumbled as he tried to get over to the spot where his wife and daughter had been standing just moments before.

“Lilly! Judith!” He cried out, frantically searching for his wife and daughter.

“Sir! Are you alright?” a voice stirred him from his daze. He looked to his left and saw one of his subordinates, a young man named James Clancy, who, do to his taste in dessert pastries had earned the unflattering nickname Creampuff.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Murdock said as he shook the memories from his mind. “Is everything all set?”

“Yes Sir.” Clancy replied. “We’re just waiting for you.”

“Good, set the targeting computer for Nautican Island, Paris, and Philadelphia, as discussed.” Murdock told the man.

“Yes Sir.” Clancy did as he was told. “The coordinates are locked in, just waiting for your order.”

“No. I’ll do it myself.” Murdock said as he stepped over to the console that Clancy was standing in front of. He looked at the coordinates, double checking their accuracy, and then entered the command which would initiate the bombardment.



Nautican Island, Massachusetts

The small island located about forty miles off of the coast of Boston had an interesting history. The island had once a whaling powerhouse on the world stage. Then, in the 1860’s, Nautican Island became one of the greatest assets of the Underground Railroad, a place so far off of the beaten path that the southern bounty hunters never thought to even look there for escaped slaves. Eventually, the island became a resort community that was frequently visited by the rich and famous. In the decades that followed, the blue collar working class residents were forced off of the island due to the rising costs of living that came about as a result of the rich driving up the cost of housing.
Desperate for a new working class, which became necessary when the residents that had previously served that purpose being priced off of the island, the Nautican Island tourism board reached out to the rising meta human population around New England. The island businesses sought to bring in a large number of meta humans with the promises of cheap and even sin some cases free housing, and high wages.
And they came in droves.

Over time, Nautican Island took on a whole new identity separate from the playground for the rich and powerful that it had taken on in the decades prior to the influx of meta humans.

Kristine Grant waded in the waters at Surfside Beach, which was located on the south side of the island. She and her boyfriend, Cole Pierce had come at sunset to partake in what had become somewhat of a tradition among islanders, skinny dipping as the sun seeming sinks beneath the waves. The two young lovers splashed as the frolicked in the churning surf beneath the majestic multicolored sky. The pinks, purples, oranges, reds and blues that canvassed the early evening sky were utterly breathtaking, and as Kristine looked up and the marvelous colors, she couldn’t help but think that she was the luckiest woman in the world.
Then something changed.

The brilliant colors were blotted out, overpowered by an odd red glow. Kristine and Cole watched as the strange red glow grew brighter and brighter. Then, an instant later it was almost like the sky fell, the last thing that Kristine and Cole saw was a massive wall of red light crashing down on them. For an instant there was a searing pain that was like nothing that either had experienced, and then there was nothing.

Paris, Texas

In recent years, there was a growing problem in Paris, Texas. The city of less than 30,000 people, which had once been named “The best small town in Texas,” had seen an influx of gangs and crime. Under normal circumstances, the increase in crime would prove to be problematic for a city the size of Paris. At only 44 square miles, the violence that would typically accompany the arrival of gangs was magnified.

However, the crisis that Paris found itself embroiled in was far from normal. The city had been utterly invaded by super powered gangs. Some of the gangs had moved in from Dallas and other larger cities to the south. The gangs used brutal tactics adopted from gangs such as Mara Salvatrucha, otherwise known as MS-13, and Death Squad in order to take control of the city. The gangs were too much for local law enforcement to handle, and quickly took firm control of the city.

Then they turned on each other.

Over that last eighteen months, a bloody war was waged on the streets of Paris. The Belmont Crew and the 7th Street Hustlers took pot shots at one another while the Bloods, Crips, Latin Kings and the Lone Star Syndicate made Paris a complete war zone. Unfortunately for the residents of the city, which had seen it’s local and state police forces all but give up on reigning in the violence, they had little hope that the war would end anytime soon. Unlike other cities like Lost Haven or Pacific Point, Paris didn’t have much in the way of heroes or vigilantes to stem the tide. There were no colorfully dressed heroes to stop the gangs so the people simply stayed out of their way as best as they could.

However, now all that remains of Paris, Texas is a smoldering crater. One minute, the people who called Paris home were going about their daily lives, working, sitting in classrooms, shopping, and in some areas of the city, fighting and killing one another. Then the entire city was engulfed in a strange reddish hue as the skies turned red. Then a massive wall of energy came down from the sky, incinerating everything within the city limits.

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

It had seemed like a normal day when Carrie Smith crawled out of bed that morning. She showered and made her lunch and mentally prepared herself for another day at Parker and Associates, where she toiled each day as a glorified secretary. Her boss, Gerald Smith, who was of no relation was a pig. At 70 years old, he came from a different era when sexual harassment and casual racism were just a fact of everyday life. He wasn’t going to change, and even the partners at the firm had given up on making him try. She would just continue ignoring his off color comments and focus on getting through the day, which is exactly what she’d done every day for the last three years. When she first started, she found him to be somewhat off putting, but nothing that she couldn’t handle. In recent months he had become completely unbearable, which was part of the reason that she had as of late, been discretely searching for a new job. She had a few leads and felt that she would soon be moving on to greener pastures. And as much as she was looking forward to giving her two weeks notice, she was very much looking forward to her exit interview, where she would tell her superiors what a lecherous old prick Gerald really was.

However, she was looking forward to the end of the work day for another reason. She had managed to score tickets to the Phillies game for later that night. When she was a girl, her father took her to the ballpark every chance he got. And while it had been years since she’d been to a game, she was very much looking forward to taking her girlfriend Lori for her first time. Once Carrie had finished her morning chores, she gathered her belongings and headed off to work.

Carrie was very much the embodiment of what it means to be from the City of Brotherly Love. She was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted in life, and she had a pretty good idea of what she had to do to make her dreams come true. She worked hard so that she could play hard, and she loved to play. There wasn’t a bar on the east side of the city that she couldn’t maneuver blindfolded, and she was a loyal devotee to the city’s pro sports teams. She believed that the culture of the city, as well as its liberal views and policies made it one of the greatest cities on Earth.

During her lunch break she had read an article on the city’s plans to introduce a new municipal ordinance which would grant metahumans special protections, much in line with the protections offered to other protected minorities. The plan was making headlines all across the country as Philly was the first city in the nation to explicitly make metahumans a protected class.

“Good for them.” She whispered to herself as she gathered her belongings and prepared to go back to her desk.

As she made her way down the hallway toward her desk, she noticed a small cluster of people gathered in front of the large bay windows which offered a spectacular view of the city. Dread washed over her as she saw the panic on the faces of those gathered there. Something was going on, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what that was. When she got to the window and was able to see exactly what it was that they were looking at, she couldn’t believe her eyes. The entire city was bathed in a ruby colored light. And while it was oddly beautiful, Carrie knew that something wasn’t right. In fact, something was terribly wrong. However, before she was able to give voice to her concerns, the window exploded, sending glass and bodies flying in every direction.


All across the country, people were glued to their television screens as every major television network was covering what was believed to be the latest attack by the Hounds of Humanity. They watched in horror as news reports rolled in, detailing the devastation that had been wrought upon the country.

“Again, Nautican Island, Massachusetts and Paris, Texas have been completely destroyed. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania was also devastated in the attack which government officials have confirmed originated from the satellite weapon that destroyed the home of billionaire industrialist Christopher Arthur. Please stay tuned, we’ll provide more information as it becomes available. But as of now, thousands have been confirmed dea…..” The voice of the news anchor was cut off by static as the live news feed was interrupted.

Replacing the various newscasters on television screens across the country was a familiar sight. A single man shrouded in shadow, apparently looking directly into a camera. When the man spoke, his digitally altered voice did not give any more warnings, and he did not offer some grand explanation of what had just happened.

Instead, he had a simple message.

“We warned you. We told you that compliance was non negotiable. Yet you chose not to listen.”
“The time for talk has past. From this moment on, you are either with us or you are against us.”
“We are coming, and you will either stand with us, or you will burn with them.”