---

An interesting character indeed . . . Holt silently mused as he and Marie made their way from the dining hall to the stronghold’s central hub. Katarina held his interest, perhaps only because she remembered a time others could not, a time when night’s black agents and all manner of fiends could thrive.

Marie nodded in agreement.

She’s something else, someone who can give Ben a different perspective. They’ll be good together. Her mind wandered to a fateful encounter with such a one as Kat, a chaotic force that brought change to her life, one whom she had come to love.

Holt could feel Marie’s restless mind, the shift in her emotions. He regaled himself with the memories of the loss they shared.

This path, Holt broke their mental silence, it is riddled with unknowns, dangers we cannot possibly foresee. Should you choose to keep their counsel, that of Benjamin and his peers, they will surely fall prey to more than blessed silver.

Marie stopped, kneeling down to trace the lines in the bark of the strange tree. Though she hadn’t wanted to entertain the thought, Holt was right. Gwyneth remained a mystery to the lot of them. What little information Marie held wasn’t enough to divine what horrors they would encounter while in search of her possessions. Unknowns aside, Ben, the wolves, Katarina, they were hardly a team, more a hodgepodge amalgamation of supernatural angst. Obligation was all that held Marie to their side, but righting past wrongs wasn’t her aim.

She sat in silence trying to justify her next decision, but a final obstacle presented itself. As much as she didn’t want to, Marie cared for Ben. The bond she’d forged with him was unmistakable. He’d imprinted on her, invited her into his “pack,” for all it was. But Marie didn’t need friends clouding her judgement, she needed allies who would do what was necessary. Holt was such an ally, Puck too, and, as much as she hated to admit it, the Ambassador.

”I have to leave,” Marie whispered softly, running a hand through her hair and stifling any oncoming emotion. ”You’re right. They could wind up dead and I can’t afford to have that on my conscience. I can’t pause my search to worry if Ben’s okay, not when I can feel myself getting closer to the truth. He can have a life away from this, maybe . . .”

Marie looked up, turned to Holt, then rushed to Genevieve’s office, a massive room adjacent to an equally massive ritual space, decorated with artifacts and imagery of a bygone era, tools of the craft neatly tucked away into every corner. The office was different from every other room in the stronghold in that it held a window on its back wall just above Genevieve’s desk. Marie couldn’t recognize the scenery. In fact, the location shown was nowhere near the desert, but a thicket of greenery, like a hedge maze in a garden, with light glistening off a sputtering fountain.

Genevieve sat at her desk, flipping through a collection of texts and writing down her findings. She looked up to find a panting Marie, with Holt fluttering in as a raven moments later.

“Is everything alright?” she asked with no shortage of concern, pulling off a pair of reading glasses and gently placing them on the desk before standing and meeting Marie.

”Fine,” Marie let out with a sharp gasp, catching her breath before continuing. ”Sorry to barge in, but I had a favor to ask.”

“Of course,” Genevieve pointedly responded, taking a seat at her desk and motioning for Marie to sit opposite her.

“Let’s hear this favor, then.”

Marie took her seat, collecting her thoughts. The Lachance witches had done so much for Marie over the past few days. She didn’t want to ask in a way that would offend Genevieve, especially given her general distaste for Marie’s choice of friends.

”Those notes I had on lycanthropy, the ones you used to cure Benjamin of his silver poisoning, I’d been going through them lately thinking up a way to help ease his transformations. He’s only recently afflicted so he can’t really control himself. I had a theory I wanted to test out, but . . .”

Genevieve raised an eyebrow.

“But? Wait, let me guess, but something’s come up? That’s it, isn’t it? So you need me and MY coven to do this for you, is that right?”

Marie hadn’t expected Genevieve to be this agitated, especially given how forthcoming she’d been in days prior. Then again, what should Marie have expected from another witch? Nothing comes free.

”I know how it must look. I’m sorry that I keep springing these things on you, but I can’t stay here with them. I told you why we’re travelling together and for better or worse we’ve bonded. But I won’t tag them along for some other horrible thing, and I can’t stay here to work on it or tell them why. Ben will know something’s up. I have to leave before they know I’m gone, but I wanted to leave Ben with something so he doesn’t think I’ve just abandoned him.”

Genevieve sighed.

“Alright,” she conceded, “I’ll do you this favor . . . however, you’ll need to do something for me in return.”

Marie nodded. She had no issue with making deals, it was, after all, part of her job.

“Good.” Genevieve’s smiled returned. Her tone switched immediately to one more pleasant. “Now, as you’re already aware, Vegas and its outer edges are home to Five, now Four, old witching  traditions: Rowan, Wright, Lachance, Loyal, and the late Adessi coven. The head of each coven is set to gather tonight to perform a powerful enchantment that will keep us safe from the Hounds and their ilk. However, our Regent, she who has united our lines, speaks for several other large covens in the country.”

Genevieve opened her desk drawer and removed a small journal, as well as a large, leather pouch with a symbol Marie recognized, but couldn’t immediately place.

“These are all the covens formally recognized at our recent Walpurgisnacht celebration. Two in El Paso, five in New Orleans, two in Virginia, one in New York, one in Andover, and four in Salem. For one reason or another, our Regent has had direct contact with each of them at some point in time and wishes them all safe. This pouch contains tokens that will keep them safe, pieces of the vessel that will be blessed in tonight’s ritual. Your quest requires you to travel, yes?”

Marie nodded, knowing that Genevieve’s request would be daunting, but given her current predicament, she saw no alternatives.

“It will be difficult, but the Four’s resources are spread thin enough as is. Your task may very well find you in these locations anyway. If you promise to deliver these tokens on our Regent’s behalf, I will do as you’ve asked. There’s no time limit on this, but the sooner these make it to their intended destinations, the better.”

I know of the covens in Andover and Virginia, Holt chimed in, They may well know of Gwyneth’s past. Each of them hails from the old world, some of their lines spanning centuries.

Marie smiled. This was her chance to not only further her search, but gain powerful allies. She happily took the small journal of locations and the bag of tokens.

”I haven’t received any feelings or ideas of where my next possession will be, so I’ve got plenty of time for this. I’ll do it!”

“Excellent!” Genevieve exclaimed, going around the other side of her desk and hugging Marie. “You should hurry off, then, before the rest of your little group wakes up. Just leave your notes on the wolf in your room, I’ll collect them and prepare the spell once you’ve left.”

Marie hurried off to her room, collecting the few bags she’d brought along. Nothing was strewn out on her bed or the floor, thankfully, making the packing up that much quicker. Her heaviest bag contained witching tools and her White Witch uniform, which she was growing less fond of by the minute. Perhaps it was name?

She took out a large collection of notes gathered from the Hudson Wyrd, as well as the notes she’d written on Ben’s transformations, and left them on the bench at the end of the bed. Something was missing. Marie took a pen from her bag and made a small note from some spare paper among her notes, folding it and setting it to the side, writing on the outside, Benjamin, hoping that Genevieve would had it to Ben along with her spell.

Quickly and as silently as possible, Marie passed by the rooms housing Ben and the twins, pressing a hand against the ornate mirror that stood at the end of the corridor. The interior of the disheveled shed came into view, the crisp morning air mixing with the desert heat filtering through the open portal. She passed through into the outside world. Astride her broom with Holt at its mantle, they flew off, unseen, away from one desert and on to another.

I’ll take these tokens to the covens in El Paso first, see if we can get a clue about Gwyneth along the way. Marie thought to Holt, trying to plan with what little she had to go off.

And what of the Ambassador? When will you inform her of your decision?

One thing at a time, Holt. I need some time to forget everything in Las Vegas before we bring up another bad memory.

Maddy knew that things looked different when you were much taller or much shorter then you normally were. Still, she didn't think she would ever get used to how alien it all looked from down here.

Jogging after the retreating guards, the ground jolting slightly with every step they took, the minuscule Maddy, barely coming up to the soles of their boots, took cover behind a counter that to her looked the size of a skyscraper. To her mild surprise, she didn't seem to be out of breath after running from the back room to where she was now. An effect of her smaller stature, maybe? It'd make as much sense as everything else to do with her powers, considering that her body shouldn't even be able to function at this size. "Damn it Maddy, rationalize later, do things now," she forcibly reminded herself before she could go completely off topic.

Spotting a monstrously huge pile of cardboard boxes stacked against the counter, she made a calculated risk and took a running jump to the first level. Just as predicted she easily cleared the jump, almost flying through the air with ease thanks to whatever property had given her the stamina to run that distance. Thankful for this aberration of science, she bounded up the side to a countertop before running up to a massive pen holder to take cover in what now appeared to be some sort of delivery service office. The scene was a bit much to take in, and in more ways then one. Maddy had to duck behind the pen holder again at the flash from a gun barrel and count to ten to avoid having another panic attack and accidentally change sizes again. Calming down, she took another look...and had to duck around the corner again and count to ten, this time to control her laughter.

As serious as the situation was, it seemed that the first few men she saw weren't the only ones dressed like that. Every mook wielding a gun in the room was dressed in tight leather and metal studs, some of them in high heeled boots, and every one of them had a massive head of long shaggy hair and appeared to be wearing eyeliner. They were all so hair metal that they looked more suited to wielding triple-necked guitars then firearms, yet here they were marching around a delivery store looking like a late eighties rock concert gone wrong.

Ridiculous as they were, Maddy could still see the immediate problem; hostages, at least as many as the hair metal enthusiasts, crowded into small groups with their hands behind their backs. A few looked like cops, but most of them were just ordinary people, including two younger girls with an older woman who looked like they could be their mother. Maddy swallowed nervously. She had to do something to help, but she couldn't take on half a dozen of these guys even with her shrinking powers. Sure physics didn't apply at this size, but she wasn't going to gamble on being bulletproof just yet.

Before Maddy could plot things out further, a siren became audible in the distance. The armed goons visibly tensed up as one of them leapt the counter and approached the backdoor, coming within inches of knocking over the cup Maddy was hiding behind.

"Sarge!" the goon yelled, pounding on a back door. "Cops are coming!"

Maddy heard the distinct sounds of someone inhaling followed by two footfalls before the door burst open with the kick from a gaudy platform boot, followed by a man who frankly made the rest of the goons look like grunge rockers from Seattle. Dressed in leathers covered with so much metal studs and golden spikes that Maddy had to avert her eyes from the reflection alone, the newcomer wiped a hand under his nose, slightly smearing the white and gold makeup caked onto his face before letting out a shriek and diving in her direction. Maddy's heart leapt into her throat, thinking the deranged man with more hair then head had seen her, but at the last second she dived to the side as the man slid across the counter, leaving a cloud of hairspray in his wake, tumbling over and picking up an unseen electric guitar shaped like a star and immediately tearing into an extremely loud and intricate riff, earning admiring cheers from the other hair metal cronies and painful winces from Maddy and the hostages.

"AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW YEAH!" the guitarist shrieked again, mounting the guitar on his back and exchanging double-high-fives with his minions one by one. "Pump up the amps and turn those speakers to eleven baby, Sergeant Shredd and his mad dogs are here to take this city by storm!"

"HELL YEAH!" the goons all chorused, quite a few of them firing off their guns into the air as they cheered.

"Shred Devil is all set to go boss!" one of the goons piped in.

"Righteous!" Shredd declared, giving him another testosterone filled hi-five. "Soon Pacific Point will be the stadium from which we rock the world!"

"Pacific Point PD!" a loudspeaker outside the store announced as the flashing lights came into view. "We have the building surrounded, come out quietly or there will be trouble!"

"And the audience has arrived!" Shredd went on in the same triumphant tone. "Eddie, take one of these fogies with you and give them our demands. Tell them if that lame-ass rockabilly punk Hound Dog doesn't show up to dance we start plugging the rest of these hostages!"

The hostages visibly bristled as the goon named Eddie pulled an older man with graying hair wearing a managers uniform up to his feet, marching him out the front door with a gun in his back. As Shredd wandered off to pound out a drumbeat on the wall, Maddy looked after the retreating goon with his hostage. The other goons wouldn't spot her at this size, she could easily make her escape out the front door with the hostage taker. The police and Hound Dog could handle this better then she could. Best not to get in the way.

She made to dart towards the now opening door before a gentle sob caught her ear. Craning her neck, she caught the tears running down one of the young girls' face. Her mother attempted to comfort her, but the girl just kept sobbing quietly, her breath coming out in choked gasps as she hung her head lower. She looked barely younger then Maddy was.

"Honey, it's okay," the mother said softly. "You're going to be fine."

"Th-they're going to kill me," the girl sobbed.

"It's going to be alright, honey," the mother continued, trying her best to sound convincing.

"I d-don't want to die..."

"I don't want to die," Maddy repeated quietly, tears running down her face again at the memories coming back to her. The sound of gunfire. The pain in her chest. The scream of terror. And the fear that Maddy would close her eyes and she and everything she cared about would be...gone. Those were nightmares she would never inflict on anyone, not even her worst enemy. Maddy clenched her fists as she felt determination well up inside of her, eclipsing her terror and any thought of escape and her own safety. These people were in trouble, and she was not going to let them get hurt like she was. Not them, and not anyone else, not while she had anything to say about it.

Driven by this newfound desire, Maddy quickly took a more analytical approach to the scene. There were six bad guys in the room including Shredd, but it looked like three cops had been caught unawares and taken hostage when they first stormed in. Maddy figured she could take one of them out if she had to, and if she got the cops free to help...no, that still left two goons. Maddy wasn't going to gamble the other hostages lives on the four of them getting to the other two in time.

She then saw one of the cops pause when he looked at one of the supposedly ordinary hostages, a younger Asian man with a buzz cut and a mean look to him. Maddy wondered what his deal was before the man turned to look at one of the goons, revealing a dragon tattooed on his neck vanishing under his shirt. Maddy didn't give it much notice until she saw the man look at a woman around his age, equally mean looking and with a perfectly matching dragon along her neck as well. One dragon was nothing spectacular, but if it matched another, it was a trademark of the local Ronin street gang, one of the criminal cabals that got overrun by the Hounds and the emerging supervillains a while back. And both the man and the woman, two individuals in a gang that was known for being particularly good fighters, were glaring with contempt at their captors.

Maddy felt the rush of excitement that came with discovering some new scientific marvel as a plan formed in her head. Her, three cops, and two gang members made six, easily enough to take on the goons in a rush, but they needed to be freed first, and that's where she came in. Moving quickly, Maddy jumped from the counter between the patrolling goons and made her way to the cop and the female gang member that had been restrained together. Waving her hands in the air to get their attention, the female gangster spotted her first, glaring in silent disbelief at the tiny girl before nudging the cop to get him to look at what was in front of them.

Not wanting to alert the guards by shouting to be heard from down here, Maddy performed a bizarre game of charades to get her point across, first pointing to herself, then to the cuffs restraining them before miming them being pulled apart. The cop jerked his head in a slight nod to communicate that he understood as the gang lady did the same. Maddy then pointed to the other three potential fighters in the room to signify they would be freed as well, then mimed a pouncing motion to signal that they would all ambush the goons. The two of them nodded again curtly, scooting aside slightly to let Maddy get to the bonds restraining them. They were tied up firmly, but at Maddy's size it was easy to pick apart the fibers and rope so she made quick work of it. Slowly and quietly she made her way to the other three in the room, communicating the plan before freeing them and finally moving towards where their leader, Shredd, had started strumming another riff out on his star guitar. Out of the corner of her eye, Maddy saw a few of the cops motion to the bystanders to get down.

Then, to her horror, she saw the seventh goon return with his hostage the manager. She had hoped to take them out while the other cops outside were focused on taking this guy down, but it was too late now. It was now or never...

"Boss, the cops say Hound Dog is out of state," the hostage taking goon lamented. "What do we do now?"

"Well, we do what we came to do anyway!" Shredd declared eagerly as Maddy quietly slipped directly behind him. "Boys, it's time to start the concert! Pick a fogie and make them sing!"

"You're not making anyone sing, today," Maddy announced as she quickly grew to her old size again.

Maddy couldn't believe she was hearing that coming out of her mouth, but it had the desired effect as the goons recoiled in shock along with their leader at the sudden appearance of the wintergreen garbed heroine.

"The concert's cancelled."

And in an instant, everyone sprang into action. The two closest goons to Maddy tried to aim their guns and fire but were quickly tackled by two of the cops. A third goon who had been looking over a glass display case found his face slammed into it as the third policeman apprehended him. There was a loud shriek as the female Ronin bull rushed one of the goons and smashed him into a table with enough force to collapse it, while the last mook grabbed for a hostage to defend himself who so happened to be the other gang member, who responded with a fist to his jaw hard to send him crashing through the front window. And as his men were being felled around him, Sergeant Shredd let out a heavy metal shriek that would make David Lee Roth jealous and drew a long dagger in each hand from unseen holsters and charged at Maddy, aiming for her throat.

Her adrenaline pumping into high gear, Maddy quickly shrunk to dodge the blow, seemingly disappearing again only to quickly grow back to size with an added shoulder bash, a move she picked up when she took martial arts classes eons ago. The combined momentum with her growth proved to be quite a potent force, enough to send the good Sergeant sailing across the room and embedding him in the drywall, the star guitar on his back letting out a discordant riff of electric fuzz as it made contact.

"Ugh...man...that so totally doesn't rock..." and with those words, Sergeant Shredd's eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out, still stuck in the wall of the building. Not even stopping to admire her handiwork, Maddy quickly turned to face the seventh goon, only to find him already passed out on the floor, the manager standing over him rubbing his knuckles.

"Punk ass kid," the manager said in a waspish tone of voice. "Didn't fight in 'Nam to get taken down by some nut with more hair then brains."

Maddy felt her legs give out under her as the tension of the moment broke, collapsing into a nearby chair as the hostages all got to their feet, the manager and the gang members helping to untie them. At the same time, SWAT team members began to pour in from the sides and back of the building, helping to free more hostages and arrest the criminals who were still conscious. The feeling started to come back to her legs again as some of the people in the entourage approached her.

"Nice work,"one of the cops Maddy freed remarked. "I'll admit I'm not the biggest fan of you superhero types but I'm glad you were here to help."

"She's a damn hero if you ask me!" the manager piped in. "And smart on her feet to boot!"

"Uh," Maddy said, completely drawing a blank on what to say next. "Well, just glad I could be here I guess. Kinda new to this whole thing."

"New or not, that was pretty bombin'," the female gang member said. "Growin' and shrinkin' like that, that shit is awesome!"

"Th-thanks," Maddy said shyly. "I just did what I could to help."

Before the pleasantries could continue, there was a thump that made the ground shake and a flurry of activity outside. Maddy felt her stomach twinge at the sound of something large and mechanical beginning to approach from a distance.

"Shred Devil is gonna smash you all!" one of the still conscious goons gleefully before being forcibly restrained again. "You're gonna get thrashed for what you did to the Sarge!"

"Something tells me I have some more work to get done," Maddy said urgently, getting back to her feet.

"No one will hold it against you if you want to sit this out," the cop suggested to her. "Pacific Point PD can take on this Shred Devil, you've already done enough to help today."

"More then enough I'd say," another of the hostages continued, prompting general murmurs of agreement, but Maddy shook her head and steeled herself for this next fight.

"No one else is getting hurt tonight," Maddy declared. "Whatever this is, I can handle it." Before she went off, someone grabbed hold of her hand. It turned out to be one of the girls she rescued and heard being comforted, her eyes now filled with tears of happiness instead of terror.

"Th-thank you," she said earnestly. "Thank you so much."

Maddy, in spite of herself, smiled warmly. "It was the least I could do."

"You saved our lives, ma'am," the girl's mother said warmly. "We couldn't thank you enough for what you did today."

"Could I...just ask one thing before you go?" the young girl piped in.

"Sure, go ahead."

"What is your name?"

Maddy pondered for a moment, as she had been wondering that same question. She couldn't use her actual name of course, but she had been hung up on an alias on the off-chance she needed one. Lowering her head to think, she caught sight of her own green suit, made of a material of her own invention that grew and shrank with her, and an idea hit her. She remembered how the fabric changed its shape and form through exploiting valence electrons in the molecules of the fabric, and the joking nickname she had for the unnamed material struck a cord with her.

"Valencium," Maddy said with a little bit of pride in her voice. "My name is Valencium."

Location: Lachance Stronghold-Henderson, Nevada
Time: Early Morning (before the satellite attack)

---

‘Can you cut it out?’

Where had he heard that voice before? Its familiarity sent shivers down his spine.

Ben’s eyelids shot open at the words. Pale blue light filled his vision, emitted by a willowy and fragile looking tree. Its branches twisted unnaturally into Celtic knotwork circle where a murder of crows sat. Each of their heads turned, sizing him with a judging, blue eye as they paced in place. A sense of waiting washed over him.

The light faded into the darkness of the cavern he stood within. No memory of how he came to be here or when he arrived, merely the sensation he belonged here. Without thinking about the consequence, Ben’s right foot took a single step toward the tree.

A feminine chuckled echoed all around him. It sent the murder to scatter in a burst of feathers, their harsh caws drowned her amusement out and startled Benjamin. His arms jerked up to shield his face until the birds vanished. Dark, shineless feathers rained down with the threat of drowning him.

‘Will you yield to me or… him?’

Ben’s chest hurt. His hand clenched it tightly, feeling something hot and sharp cut through his bare flesh. He fought the urge to scream through the pain. Fear crossed his face while his eyes found the source. A bloody paw print marked his heart, the muscle stressing from mysterious pressure and on the verge of dying. Each pulse brought a wave of blood to the surface. Gravity pulled rivets down the skin, ruining the outline. Branching out from the print were dark lines tracing his veins as it poisoned him inside.

Sickness swirled within his head causing him to step back. A mistake. Solid ground vanished under his heel causing him to tumbled down into an abyss. The bodiless voice laughed in cruel amusement, her sounds following him into the darkness.

Quickly the shadows took form, shifting into a large black wolf’s waiting jaws. Red eyes tightened into a feral grin as the teeth snapped together behind him. Swallowing him.

Snow drifted from the skies now. White covered the forest and drenching the Elder trees bark, blackening them. The flakes gradually devoured any warmth they touched then melted into nothing. Benjamin’s skin shivered. He was in an inch deep drift of it, the cold slicing into him. His confusion attacked his inability to understand what was happening causing him to stir. Gradually, he pushed himself upright. He observed his whereabouts until he became distracted once more.

Inhuman howls echoed through twisted branches and seemed to come from everywhere. Yellow eyes peered through the scenery, their attention narrowing on his location, before shifting through the trees. Their shapes were nothing but a blur.

The hairs on Benjamin’s neck rose with his adrenaline, power pouring through his system. His lip pulled back. Individual teeth were revealed before he gave a low, warning growl. It was brushed off with their low snickers.

A pale light broke the forest’s gloom. Benjamin’s head turned toward it, seeing Marie’s retreating back as she walked away from him. Her bare feet crushed the freshly fallen snow. Slowly her outline faded until she left nothing behind but her footprints.

“No! Don’t go!” Benjamin’s voice screamed out.

His torso bolted upright from his dream, sweat traced his skin. It left him cold and clammy. After a moment or two passed, he realized where he was. Slowly he reined in his labored breath back to a suitable range, but his heart refused to listen. It still pounded hard against his sternum like a prisoner trying to start a riot.

“Where the hell did that come from?”

Location: Haneson Airport, Lost Haven

The airport, as usual, featured several wall mounted screens displayed various arrival and departure times. And like usual, the check in desk and luggage lines were backed up with dozens of people. However, due to the Hound’s recent satellite attack, many sought to leave Lost Haven, a place that has seen many metahumans, and rumored by many to be the next target. What would have been an as usual crowded and busy airport was multiplied by several hundred more people looking to flee.

David overheard various bits of conversation, just bits and pieces, but all of it consisted of worried remarks and anxious questions. Many had already seen the Hounds personally in action, along with their fights with various ‘superheroes’, and none of them wanted to end up like Paris, Texas or Philadelphia.

And he sympathized with them, the Hounds seemed to be crawling over Lost Haven, he helped stop the ones he encountered, but he had merely stumbled upon them. David had no way of tracking down the Hounds’ real source of power, and he felt he had failed his only mission. The vision the Earth showed him a year ago, it had to have been talking about the Hound’s satellite, what else could cause such destruction?

David looked to the faces of those close to him; Cecily met his stare, she was probably filled with the same worry and uncertainty he was, his daughter Maddie was focused on her phone instead, and texting with her friends. Normally he’d say something, he always did feel a little outdated, but he held back this time, and if they really did move away this would be the only way she could talk to them.

Trying to run away from Lost Haven felt bad enough as is, as if he was betraying something inside himself, and this certainly wasn’t an easy choice from the beginning. In doing this they’ll lose their friends, their jobs, and he had to ask himself if this was really the right choice.

The president was due to make an appearance in a few moments, David turned to face one of the many wall mounted TVs, this was something he couldn’t miss, although it’s not like he had anything planned. The screen switched to President Blake, but just as he opened his mouth the screen changed, showing static instead.

Confusion escaped the lips of nearby people.

“What the hell? No signal.” His daughter had muttered.

“Hey, watch your langu-“David stopped himself midsentence, or rather, what he just saw outside the terminal buildings’ windows. Several vans and a helicopter had just shown up on the tarmac, and David recognized them immediately; how could he not, after having faced Hounds several times in the past couple days. A few people were surprised to see anything other than an airplane on the landing strip, and a few surprised and anxious mutterings started getting passed around.

Following the immediate appearance of the Hounds, the power went out, the static filled TV’s and the lights both went dark, leaving the entire building in darkness. The only lights still on were from phones, or outside sources like street lamps, and even then it wasn’t enough. The sound of glass shattering, followed by the thundering of gunfire pierced the darkness, drawing a panic from everyone.

“David!” Cecily yelled for him, she was already dragging Maddie by the hand, the both of them running away from the gunfire, doing their best to navigate through the darkness, relying on the flashlight function of their phones. The only way they could escape would be to get into the other building, but he knew they’d be there too. He thought about changing into Terra Firma here, to fight the Hounds off, but he hesitated as he thought about the satellite weapon again, his waking nightmare from before put the brakes on his legs.

He was shaken out of his daze by his family, along with several hundred people who had taken to pushing and shoving, desperate to get away. The sounds of gunfire and the screams of the unfortunate echoed throughout the terminal building, it shook something inside him, and it made him restless. At this rate they wouldn’t get away, not before the Hounds mowed them down in the back, and he couldn’t let that happen. Not ever.

Something ignited inside him and he found his spirit restored, determined to put a stop to this. He was already having a hard time keeping close to his family because of their head start, so this was the perfect chance to leave. David let the other civilians blow past him as they rushed forward, he almost fell over a couple times.

“Dad!”

“David, hurry!”

“Go! I’ll catch up!” David shouted back to them as someone bumped into him, almost knocking him down. With everyone doing their best to escape the Hounds nobody would be looking closely at anyone’s face, and with the lights out they wouldn’t be able to see even if they wanted to. The time was now.

An explosion of light blinded those near him, an unfortunate side effect, good news was that it also blinded some of the Hounds, with many of them desperately attempting to cover their eyes. The welcoming warmth of the Earth’s power, along with the feeling of its raw energy inflating him, gave him a much needed courage boost after watching all those news reports. He really felt like he could do it, and this was the time to show it.

David shot up high into the air, nearly crashing into a ceiling mounted light, bullets followed him soon after. As he moved further away from the crowd David considered his situation. With so many encounters with the Hounds he had some idea on how they operated, how methodical they were, and their apparent obsession with killing metahumans without a shred of regard for innocents. He’d have to rein that in, his family was here, and that meant nothing could happen to them.

“Stay close to the walls, don’t leave the area!” David shouted, his voice echoed slightly throughout the building, he wanted to keep the other people somewhere nearby where he can guard them, if they left for another section of the airport he wouldn’t be able to do anything for them. The neat patterned flooring of the airport shattered as David summoned thick stone walls that circled around the civilians; they quickly shot up towards the ceiling, marking a firm line in between the civilians and the Hounds. He created several more walls to cover those who weren’t as close as the others.

Of course, some of the Hounds had tried to make a move during this, attempting to sneak in to attack the civilians, but they were all launched backwards as the stone barriers uprooted them, bursting from underneath their toes.

But if the Hounds were to be applauded for anything tonight, it would be for their quick response times; even as he summoned his earthen barriers several Hounds had already begun emptying their clips at him, a barrage of lead that amounted to nothing except for empty shell casings scattering across the floor. With the civilians behind a bulletproof barrier of their own David decided to get into the thick of it, he rushed the Hounds forces head on. They attempted to stop him with explosive rounds and a barrage of grenade launchers, he felt the explosions of the grenades rock his body, but he could keep going, and he did. David plowed right into them, knocking several of them off their feet like bowling pins.

Continuing with his momentum, David grabbed a Hound soldier by the ankles and swung him around in a circle, clobbering his friends, before he finally threw him into more of his allies. Some of them attempted to reach for their guns on the floor. David put a stop to that by flicking his arm towards them, thin streaks of lightning shot off his arms, skewering the guns, leaving red hot holes in the middle of the rifles. The grenade launchers gave him some pause, he didn’t know how far their rules for friendly fire went, he didn’t want any of their blood on his hands so closing in up close might be a bad idea, and a lightning bolt might prematurely set off a round.

So he wouldn’t touch them at all. Several “hands” burst from the ground, they flew around disrupting the Hounds formation, slapping them, punching them, but they all aimed for weapons, grabbing them and diving straight back into the ground. To wipe up the last of the Hounds, a long line of stone shot up from the ground, and into David’s hands. It “merged” with his arm and he swung it into the Hounds, the stone quickly bent and changed into a thick, slimy, muddy whip that swallowed the Hounds.

David thrust his construct into a wall, with a loud, wet thud the mud whip slammed into the wall. He jerked his hands around slightly, and the rest of the Hounds fell limply down onto the ground, leaving their rifles stuck in the now rock-hard construct. With this area cleared out David moved out onto the landing strip, it was somewhere that could be seen by everyone in the airport, and that was what he needed if he wanted the rest of the Hounds to stop prowling around and come right for him.

Except it looked like he was going to be busy here too, a large armored Hound had just turned around to face him, along with a couple more squads. David decided it would be best not to let them demonstrate just what made them different. Electricity coiled and snapped around his arms, he flung his arms forward and the lightning shot off his arms, each bolt branched off and struck at a Hound weapon. Their rifles began to glow red, and the Hounds abandoned their weapons, all except one. The air around the weird Hound distorted and the bolt that was supposed to hit him curved around him instead, and crashed into a pile of opened luggage.

David might have thought that Hound suit gave its use some kind of control over electricity, but with that warping and odd curve, that didn’t seem right. Regardless, Lightning was just one of his favorite powers, he still had another. The ground around the Hound began to rumble, the stone pillars David was going to use to trap the Hound suddenly stopped, and fell back into the ground. It felt as if something had pushed down on it, and whatever it was it was still pushing.

That’s never happened before.

He went at it again, this time several chunks of cement lifted off around him, and rushed at the powered Hound. The blocks sped away, but they suddenly stopped and came right back at him, David probably could have reversed them too, but he found himself frozen with bewilderment; allowing the cement chunks to crash and shatter against his body, pushing him backwards slightly. With only his fists left David readied himself to jump into a tackle, but after he had taken only a single step the Hound raised his hand at him, and David’s body began to grow heavy and stiff.

David tried to take another step forward, he had to push with all his strength, strength he never knew he had, just to place his foot down, and as soon as he did the ground underneath him cracked and depressed into a crater. Whatever this pressure was it was becoming too much. It felt like a giant stack of bricks was constantly pushing down on his entire body, and to make matters worse there was this odd tingling in the bottom of his stomach. The pressure seemed to increase suddenly and David was forced onto his hands and knees, again that same force multiplied, and he dropped onto his stomach.

Shit…this is bad.

David grunted as he tried to push off the ground, he also began to try to move the ground again, but any constructs he tried to form were immediately crushed just like before, or where shot into harmless pebbles by Hound reinforcements. The Hounds began bombarding him with everything they had, and he had no choice to but to take it as his body grew heavier by the second.

Hundreds of bullets crashed into him, while grenade after grenade was launched at his prone body, each of the explosions rocked him to his core. He didn’t know if they could kill him as he had no reference for that, but he was starting to feel weaker, it might be possible if he just kept sitting here, meanwhile that tingling in his stomach had been spreading. Each second he stayed like this that tingling in his gut expanded, covering his whole body, like when your arm or leg fell asleep, except for your whole body.

But, this doesn’t feel that bad, almost like there’s….something else.

This wasn’t something he did often, searching his ‘insides’ with his ‘feelings’, how would you even describe this to a normal person? It felt almost like sifting through sand, he felt swallowed, and drowned in that feeling. After a few moments the tingling passed away, replace by a feeling of familiarity, like remembering something after having forgotten it for so long. Whatever it was that was making him heavier, he could touch it, reverse it, and so he did. His body began to return to normal, the overbearing pressure of heaviness left him, leaving only the constant barrage of Hound weaponry. Of which he planned to stop this instant.

David pushed off the ground, a little harder than he had intended, launching himself high into the air, giving himself a nice view of the landing strip. He swept his arms around in a circle, causing the cement and dirt underneath the Hounds to begin swirling as well, making them lose their grip on their guns, as well as losing their footing. David changed certain parts to mud then back to hardened cement again to trap the Hound soldiers in the ground, keeping them away from their guns, and taking them out of the fight.

Meanwhile, the armored Hound had become beyond confused, he spent those next few moments switching between hands, and adjusting the controls on his gauntlets. The Hound did his best to pin David again, but to no avail, despite all his adjustments nothing was working. However, it still worked on other things, like the luggage carts, and the unused grenades of his unconscious allies.

The suit gave him more than just control over how much gravity one was experiencing, but also its direction and speed, as he demonstrated by sending numerous grenades and the nearby luggage carts at David. The hero swiftly dodged out of the way of the carts, but it seemed hitting him wasn’t the goal, the grenades collided into the carts as they passed behind him, the explosion blew him out of the sky, and back onto the ground.

With most of the other Hounds down and out, and with his own gravity suit slowly loosing effectiveness, the armored Hound was quickly running out of options. He tried to fling more cars, luggage bags, anything, at David but only just managed in slowing him down. As David closed in on him he shouted, a desperate, anguished shout.
“We can’t fail here, and definitely not to some nobody hero!” The Hound shouted from the depths of his gut.

“You must not be a big fan of Odysseus then.” David quipped as he rushed up to the Hound. Suddenly David spotted something out of the corner of his eye, something large and white was coming at him fast, he quickly jumped backwards. It was a wing, a wing of a nearby landed plane, and he wasn’t stopping there. The landing gears, seats, hull, it all came flying at him. David managed to avoid the bigger things, but flying wasn’t his forte, and so he couldn’t dodge everything.

This was getting out of hand, the armored Hound had surrounded himself in a vortex of metal, constantly swirling around him, striking at David if he was too slow. Aside from personally grabbing everything and stopping them, David couldn’t think of a way to stop him from tossing metal around, but he had to stop him before he started hitting the buildings.

Then he noticed something, the Hound had been making him move this entire fight, but the Hound himself had not actually moved an inch, probably too busy micromanaging all this debris. So David decided to go forward, to force himself through whatever the Hound threw at him, and just get him.

David took a moment to brace, then sprinted forward, and launched into the air with his arms forward. That Hound didn’t look like he was just going to let this happen, the metal swirling around them moved to intercept David, and judging from the sound of metal tearing, the Hound must be taking apart more of the landed planes. Most of it was small enough he could ignore it just by pushing forward, but something bigger hit him, he didn’t see it but it caused him to start spinning. But he didn’t let this stop him, he was determined to stop that man, so he continued flying, he continued spinning, and tore right through another piece of plane, and another, and finally into the Hound.

He considered himself done with the man, the sooner he could yank him out of that armored suit, the sooner this would end. Then they both heard it, a jet coming in closer, it must have been due to land around this time.
The Hound turned his hand toward it, and David promptly intercepted his arm, but he could still turn his hands, and that was all he needed. David firmly grabbed the back of the armor, braced his other arm on the front side of the armor, and tore it off. The suit snapped into a mess of loose wires and bent metal, electricity sparked momentarily before it died out. The suit was done for, the Hound was more or less harmless now, but the plane was a different story.

Before he was stopped, the Hound had managed to use his power on the plane, whatever he did caused the plane to suddenly dip, and even that momentary exposure to the Hound’s power must have damaged the wings as the engines had caught fire.

“Dammit” David muttered, he launched back into the air, flying as fast as he could to the plane. He didn’t get there as fast as he would have liked, he didn’t know if he could even help, David was completely out of his element. But he had to try, so he moved under the nose and started pushing up, doing his best to ‘carry’ the plane on his back.

David gave off a loud strained grunt, to get it as flat up as possible, and hope they could still land it. But it didn’t look as if he had the strength for it, he had never landed a plane before, and he hoped this wouldn’t be his first crash.

“Let us give you a hand!” Another voice shouted. David quickly swiveled his head around to face him. Another hero, he was wearing what David assumed to be his costume, there were several tears all over his body, showing he had been in a tussle with the Hounds as well. A few others followed up behind him, all flying up towards them, many of them wore inversed jackets or scarves around their face, and some of them had managed to slip into their costumes.

They didn’t wait for any response on his end, and moved to take a position around the plane.



Inside the cockpit of the plane, both pilots were flipping through their flight manuals trying to find something to save them, while simultaneously eyeing their instruments to keep them from breaking any further, the sound of passengers panicking behind them only made them sweat harder. The co-pilot spotted the heroes and tapped the shoulder of the captain to get his attention.

“Those guys are crazy, you think they’re going to be enough?”

---

Time: Fuck-Me-O’Clock
Location: Sherman Square, Lost Haven

Charlie folded her arms as both Nemesis, Fletch and finally Icon scolding them came directed at herself and Pantheon. She scratched at her nose, commenting with a dash of vinegar largely to herself. “Right, I forgot. Can’t have an opinion around super hearing.”

Ready to follow Icon when the distant sound of helicopters caught her attention. She looked up, her jaw popping open as they brought in their deliveries of goddamn mecha units. All around the square swathes of Hounds arrived. The scenes of the University flashing before her on waves of intense fear. Charlie turned on her heel feeling the walls literally closing in, again. Heart rate doubling, she thought briefly if this was enough for heart failure.

She froze, uttering “F-f-f-fuck me.”

Heroes and metahumans alike leapt into action, Pantheon went straight for one of the mecha units. Fliers were targeted by, some sensibly going straight for the big guns. The Hounds on the ground were storming out of their vehicles coming straight for them. In a blink of an eye, their weapons disappeared from their hands stolen away by the pink speedster. Lady Hex bumped up against Charlie and she hardly registered it, seized in a fit of panic. White knuckling her staff, she couldn’t move.

Her breath caught and stuttered, feeling the edges of her vision beginning to blur.

“H-h-hydrogen…”

Lady Hex called and conjured chaos to surround them, brewing a sizeable storm over the square. Claps of thunder and the first few drops of rain splattered on Charlie’s cheeks and her goggles jolting her. It began to pour drenching the Alchemyst through waking her from her panic. Clearly seeing Hounds were closing in on Lady Hex, Charlie was fuelled with energy, her panic burning away into adrenaline. Nobody, not a single one of them would touch Maddi.

Charlie dug into her pockets holding a pair of lithium batteries in her hand, already knowing what to do. She gripped her staff dashing forward to cut them off, balling the batteries in her fist. The carbon fibres encasing the batteries formed up out of her hand, going straight for the first Hound armed with a baton. In her other hand, the butt of her staff changed shape into that of crowbar on her approach.

She was faster and closer, smoothly hooking the Hound operative under his armpit sharply turning him of course breaking their momentum. Charlie took a guess at what the visor was made of gambling on plastic instead of fibreglass. She was rewarded when her fist glided through the plastic protected by the carbon wrapped around her hand making a direct hit on their nose.

She growled, “Helium!”

He fell back with a grunt, the second Hound attacking was ready for Charlie having switched targets. She swung her baton down and Charlie met the attack with her staff, stepping right she hooked under her foot pulling up. The Hound face planted to the wet ground with a splash, Charlie spun her staff cracking her helmet open like an egg.

She opened her hand, rainwater began to vaporize into steam. Waving her hand about like a lunatic she created a thick cloud of steam, the more water she touched the thicker it became. It enveloped both her and Hex, another Hound came through the alchemical fog and was met with Charlie’s ferocious counterattack. They stepped out reach of her crowbar, giving her ground as her attacks found their torso and shoulders battering them away. With every landed hit she recited more of the periodic table. “Lithium! Beryllium! Boron! Carbon!”

Cracking open another helmet she snarled, “Nitrogen!” They were out cold.

She watched Pantheon take down a mech with some difficulty, knowing he’d do better with something other than his own fists. Scraps of the mecha he destroyed littered about.

The fog dissipated quickly with the continued rain, stepping up to Lady Hex. “Stay close! I need to make something for Pantheon! He’s not going anywhere fast fighting these shits barehanded.” She beckoned for her to follow, Lady Hex came with a nod they dashed into certain danger. Charlie meeting any approaching Hounds with a swing of her staff, stripping them of their armour as she went and praying to dodge any debris.

She stopped short of the mess of a mech Pantheon took down, throwing scraps into a pile surrounding the largest piece of steel. A leg. Ducking under a beam, she dried the steel to write on. Accounting for the plastics, copper, iron, fibreglass, and other stray elements Charlie wrote out the alchemical formula to fuse it all together. Rubbing her hands together she flattened her hands against the steel, concentrating. Her hands glowed lightly the sharpie written alchemical formula brightening. Across the pile of debris the alchemical formula snaked covering it in its entirety. A generous mix of old alchemy symbols and modern chemistry equations blended. The metal shifted into itself, pulling with it the wires and broken glass. Her brow furrowed, sweat mixing with the rainwater.

It took the shape of a large spiked bat. 12 feet in length, solid, and adorned with spikes on the end. Wires wrapped for the grip, ready to be used.

Calling to her ridiculous body guard, “Pantheon! Use this!”

She felt the ground rumble and familiar earthen hands shoot up from the ground taking down Hounds and vehicles alike. Seeing Terra Firma make his entrance, she grinned.

“They’re proper fucked now.”

Location: Haneson Airport, Lost Haven

“We’re still too steep!” Another hero shouted. Multiple places on the front and underside of the Boeing 747 were bent or warped slightly from the strength of various heroes, all trying to push the plane up, although they were struggling just to fix the pitch angle so they wouldn’t slam nose first into the ground, and with the average jumbo jet weighting in at around three hundred tons they weren’t making a lot of progress.

They had managed to gain some altitude, but instead of crashing nose first into the landing strip, it looked like they would plow right into the terminal building. David’s walls could still be seen and they were mostly in once piece, but a tiny section towards the front had collapsed into a pile of dirt, giving the formerly shielded civilians a good look at their impending doom.

“It’s not working!”

“Just keep trying!”

“We can’t do it, we’re not strong enough!”

“Yes, we can, keep going!” David shouted back. He felt like his body was melting, slipping away, his reactions felt slower, almost like he was losing connection with his senses.

It must be worst on them, they still have normal bodies.

The shape on his chest started to pulse out across his torso, like a ripple in a pond, and strangely enough he thought he could hear his own heartbeat for a moment.

The other heroes were losing faith in themselves, but the people on the plane and on the ground needed them now. They couldn’t possible give up now, to leave those people behind was downright ugly, unforgivable, and nobody here wanted to do that. To let all these people down, to allow his family to die in such a way, he couldn’t allow this at all. As if responding to his feelings, something awakened within him, it felt familiar, and yet it was new. That feeling evolved, changing into a new energy, surging through his body, rejuvenating him, and empowering him.

The energy around his body suddenly exploded outwards, shooting off violently in multiple directions, as well as engulfing a good part of the jet’s nose, it startled those near him, but it was surprisingly harmless, and instead of running away the heroes beside him continued to help. David smiled deeply inside, and gave the plane one good push.

The plane rose up, just barely avoiding the building, with the tail bumping into the tip of the roof. Once it cleared the building David moved towards the middle to get more lift, energy continued to shoot wildly off his body as he moved, but now it was situated underneath the cabin. The plane had completely passed over the airport, along with a nearby parking garage, and he felt like carrying the plane this long was already pushing his luck. They managed a miracle for sure, but he wasn’t sure how much longer it was going to last.

One of the other heroes must have had a similar thought.

“Put us down over the harbor, we passed the strip, harbor’s the only safe place left!”



The other heroes stayed with the plane as long as they could, but dashed up and away as the plane landed in the water, with only David staying under to smooth its landing. The planes’ doors opened, and the inflatable slides shot out. A few of the other heroes went down, probably to reassure the passengers.

David took this moment to look his body over, it was hard not to see the energy from earlier exploding off his body, but he was fine now, and this body was just as normal as it ever was.

What was that about?

“Not sure how you did it, but nice job, name’s Gangway.” The hero that approached him earlier had come to him again. His teal and white costume had some kind of ‘arrow’ design, several upward pointing lines, a sleeveless top, along with some kind of fat domino mask. And for some reason, an arrow pointed downwards from his abdomen. David opted not to talk about that.

“Terra Firma.” David stated plainly. Several boats were coming closer now to the plane, no doubt they had seen it, or heard it, and were coming in closer to see if they could help.

“Well then, Terra, how would you feel like sticking it to the Hounds even more tonight?”

“You mean back at the airport?”

“No, me and a few of the other heroes took care of them, the ones that didn’t go after you anyways. You raised quite the ruckus on the landing strip, hard not to join that kind of party.” Gangway paused a moment and then continued.

“You know, most of us might have come here for the same reason. But if you can forget about that, if you want to hit the Hounds again, you might be able to. A friend of mine showed me something before the signal cut out.”

Gangway reached into a pocket, a pocket David didn’t see and regretted thinking about, then pulled out a phone.
Gangway showed him the last message of his last conversation. David did his best to keep his own prying eyes under control and focused on what Gangway was trying to show him.

Tanya:
<Icon and Iron knight at Sherman square!>

There’s some kind of face picture under the text?

<Hurry and get your butt over there, you could get famous from this!!!>

“You’re not going yourself?”

“No, frankly, I’m too scared. I handle bullets just fine, you have to if you do this kind of thing, but being bombed from space. No…..I’m not ready for that. Besides, I don’t really have the right power set for fighting the Hounds.”

David paused a moment to think, Icon was supposed to be a big hero, along with Iron Knight. Without detective skills of his own teaming up with them would be his only option to putting a stop to the Hounds, but there’s just one problem. If he left like this, he’d be leaving his family behind, trapped behind his stone walls. They were meant to protect them, temporarily, he planned to free them as soon as he got back, but…

“Since you’re here I’m assuming you came with family too, or at least people you care about. Don’t worry, me and some of the boys plan to head back, and there are some of us that couldn’t make the journey here. Whoever you came here with, they’re in good hands.” Gangway was practically reading his mind, his situation might have been scarily similar, or maybe this was just a hero's life in general.

That was probably true, if he was going to leave this would be the best time, and when he showed up again as David he could excuse it on the Hounds attack. If he showed up to say excuse himself, they’d get highly suspicious, and they’d rightfully try to stop him.

Before he left he spotted a kid looking out one of the windows, he waved to David, and David waved back before giving a firm thumbs up and lifting off into the air.



Location change: Sherman Square, Lost Haven

It took him a little longer than he would have liked to find Sherman Square, he might have had an easier time on the car since like most people he was used to navigating buildings, but as it is, he had to reorient himself several times, and when he finally arrived he was speechless. Though it wasn’t as though he there was anybody else he could talk to, the Earth had spoken to him once, but that was so long ago David was sure that was just part of that vision.

Who he thought were heroes, hoped anyways, were all over the place, explosions and gunfire were scattered all across the square. The air was unnaturally chilled, some kind of disks where spewing out ice, and the wind was unnaturally heavy.

Shit, just a few weeks ago this was a safe place for families to have fun, and now…

Helicopters, planes, and even more of those mechanized suits were rampaging everywhere, although it looked like a couple of them were on his side. He hoped, anyways. David was still trying to take in what he was seeing when his gaze quickly darted to someone he immediately recognized.

Pantheon, so he’s here too? Let’s just hope this time he has all his marbles.

“Heh.” David softly muttered to himself.

I hope? I have the power to bend steel, I just helped land a plane just a few minutes ago. I can do more than hope.

David smirked on the inside, and quickly swooped down into the square. With two large gestures he conjured several varying sized hands, seizing Hounds, trapping them in a stone grasp, or forcefully binding their hands and feet together. He tackled a couple trucks in a similar fashion, by semi submerging them into the ground, keeping them trapped behind their reinforced vehicles, or by disabling some of them by blowing out their tires underneath them.

Dealing with helicopters wasn’t fun the last time, let’s hope I can leave that to someone else.

Even though he decided to leave the helicopters for one of the more aerial heroes, there was something else up here he could touch. In a wide motion David swiped his arms around him in a circular motion, bringing his arms close to his chest, and around his body. Lightning gathered around his body, drawing itself to his arms, then to the tips of his hands and shot outward as he aimed his limbs towards those disks in the air, bringing several of them down in an explosion of residual frost and scrapped metal.

David thought as he brought his hands together one last time, and swiped down. A furious thunderbolt shot from the sky and down onto a mech, stopping him in his tracks, and letting out a furious shout from the man inside. David followed up by cuffing his arm around his helmet, and bringing them both down onto the ground. The both of them falling let out a heavy metal thudding; the suit itself appeared to be out of commission as sparks had started shooting out of certain points, along with several of the armor panels being too warped or melted to allow movement. The low sound of a groan escaping the cracked helmet told David the man was still alive, and out cold.

---

Amidst the chaos, Lady Hex failed to account for her surroundings. Her station near the Sherman Center was far from secure; armored trucks and vans filed in from every possible entrance. Though she had managed to slow the advance of forward moving Hounds, those behind the center remained largely unscathed, the force of her storm their only hindrance. It was this oversight that nearly cost Hex her life.

In a flurry of wind, rain, and dancing lights, the Alchemyst came charging through with might and steel. With powers strange and a thrust of her staff, Hex’s assailants were rendered unconscious. All the while, Madalena remained unaware to the threat on her life. Only in those final moments when the Alchemyst’s voice broke through the roar of gunfire did Maddi understand the debt she owed.

Soon thereafter, a second wave of encroaching foot soldiers forced Charlie’s hand. Hot vapors began to poor from her hands, enveloping the two in a thick veil of steam. Now aware of her surroundings, Lady Hex did her part, wielding her cane like a club and crippling the blinded Hounds who dared draw near. Feats of strength were not among Hex’s gifts, but the thorns running down the length of her elder wood scepter were enough to stun assailants.

”Stay close! I need to make something for Pantheon! He’s not going anywhere fast fighting these shits barehanded.” The Alchemyst shouted frantically as the cloud of steam began to evaporate.

Madalena nodded, moving with haste to Pantheon’s side, staying as close to Charlie as the situation would allow. Their mad dash didn’t go unnoticed, however.

Two flares spiraled toward Lady Hex and Pantheon, signaling a change in strategy. Hex couldn’t hear the Judicator’s orders, but she noticed small groups of Hounds switching ammunitions as they marched forward. She was yet unsure if the Witchfinder General had lent any of his men to this assault, or if the Hounds were simply using his expertise to their advantage. Either way, Madalena could see that their slow advance would spell danger for herself, Charlie, and Pantheon, the latter of whom was heavily preoccupied.

What do I do? Hex thought to herself in panic. She was fortunate to have remembered the storm calling charm moments ago, but would her powers of fascination be enough to halt a wall of bullets? What’s more, the ground began to freeze around them thanks to the Hound’s walking machinations of destruction. What could she possibly do that wouldn’t cause more trouble for the gathered heroes?

An idea! Hex hatched a risky idea, one that would take more time than she had, but there was little choice. If the Alchemyst had time enough to write her formula and perform complex transmutations in the field, Madalena could find a way to make her spell work.

”Char-Alchemyst!” Hex cried, grabbing Charlie’s attention. ”Can you give us a little more steam cover?”

Lady Hex quickly ran a short distance away, making sure that she was not in direct line of sight of any approaching Hounds. She reasoned that if none could see her, her natural gifts of misfortune would obscure their aim and keep her safe. A dangerous assumption, but it was the only assurance she had.

Using her cover, Madalena marked upon the stone with the end of her cane, tracing a figure like Puck’s symbol, but with a different incantation surrounding the central imp. Much to her delight, the image appeared in a faint red light with each movement.

Quickly, Lady Hex place a small square of cloth at the center of the glyph, shielding her work from the rain with her cloak. The sound of bullets whizzing past gave her pause, but none managed to find their mark. She had to be swift.

Next, she added a small amount of powdered iron oxide, kept on her person as a talisman against ornery fey and small curses. To this, Lady Hex added a few parts ergot and dried snakeskin, both used in works of malice, as well as a small shard off a black cat’s femur. Finally, Madalena used the thorns along her cane to prick her thumb, letting a few drops of blood to pool on top of the other ingredients before wrapping it tightly in the cloth with a length of cord left over from the sailor’s knot.

Lady Hex took a step back, revealing the small pouch. Holding her cane perpendicular to her body, Hex concentrated, feeling the malice pool inside her body, hearing the subtle chime of the hex bag and its contents atop the glowing imp’s head. Another bullet zipped past her head, threatening her concentration. Intuitively, she knew that Puck had taken measures to ensure her safety in this battle, he wouldn’t have sent her if he wasn’t sure she’d make it out alive, but to be dancing in the flames as opposed to viewing them from afar was a harrowing experience. Even so, Lady Hex had to make herself known.

The hex bag suddenly burst into flames, producing an ethereal, amber smoke that held a subtle glow. This enchanted haze quickly grew into a pillar of red smog. Lady Hex directed the smoke with her cane, spreading it into every direction as a whirling tendrils. The smoke gathered around the Hound’s various machines; several trucks, mechs, remaining helicopters, even around weapons. It filled every cavity and crevice it could find, producing a thick layer of rust and wear that yielded many functions ineffective.

A stray Hound broke through the layer of steam separating Hex from the group, but to his dismay, his gun refused to fire and the blade at his waist had grown dull. This was much the same for others on the field. Lady Hex waved an arm, sending the Hound flying into the fray. She struggled to stay upright, having expended more energy than originally intended. Such was the way of one so unused to exertion. Her power and knowledge was to her team’s advantage, but her lack of experience was to her detriment.

Despite her fatigue, Madalena hoped that her spell would level the playing field, contributing to what she prayed would be a swift victory.

Outside the IDRG Pyramid

Smoke billowed from the front entrance of the Integrated Dimensional Research Group headquarters as Mozart and his sister Clara overlooked the scene. Out front, IDRG robots and human security guards laid destroyed or dead, and a group of footsoldiers from the Church of the All-Seeing Eye stood guard out front. While they were dressed like SWAT or Black Ops operatives, the Frogs knew they were even more dangerous. Fanatics always were. The Eye believed what they were doing would bring about the end of our world, and that their monstrous gods would reward them for giving the devourers access to their reality.

"Oh terrific," Clara deadpanned. "I was hoping to fight some doomsday cultists tonight."

Art studied the scene carefully. This was all wrong.

"This...this is open warfare," he shook his head at the wonton destruction. "The Eye is either getting desperate or something's changed significantly. They had been working in the shadows. Even when they released the beast in the sewers it was hidden. But this is going to be impossible to hide."

"Maybe they've decided hiding wasn't getting the job done," Clara added.

It was certainly a sobering thought. The cult had powers at their disposal. Terrible powers. If they were to unleash them fully upon the city, a lot of people were going to die.

"Well, let's go ask them what they're thinking," Art smiled and vaulted off the fire escape they were perched on.

He landed deftly, transferring his momentum into a roll. As his feet came around and hit the ground, he sprung off them into a leap. He landed in the middle of the Eye soldiers, who were shocked at the appearance of the giant frog. Art swung his bo staff in an arc, shattering the helmet of the closest and sending him crashing to the ground. One of the others went for his gun, but Mozart knocked it away with a flick of his long, quick tongue, before tossing the man at one of his comrades. Both crumpled to the ground in a heap. The fourth and final soldier almost managed to get a shot off at the frog, but instead received a gash across the back of his hand from Clara's war fans, before she knocked the man out cold.

"You could have warned me you were just going to jump into the middle of them," she said as the two of them entered the place where they were created, side-by-side.

"Yea, but that's a lot less fun," he shrugged before looking around. He still had nightmares about this place. About what they had put him and his siblings through. It felt strange to be back, especially in the sense that he was now here to protect it. Being a hero was weird. He looked back at his sister, "Welcome home, sis. Let's find out what the hell is going on."



San Maria Docks

The flames surrounded Ludwig as he barreled down the street towards the site of the explosion. The IDRG truck they had been track had been ambushed moments ago. Ludwig assumed it was by the Eye, but this is more audacious than they've ever been before. Above him, Bach ran on the rooftops. It was a strategy the two of them had perfected over the past months. Ludwig's massive, imposing frame would draw the attention of their enemies, while Bach would sneak around them. It was effective, if not all that creative.

At the center of the flaming street, he found the IDRG caravan in disarray. Two of the trucks were on their side, and a third had crashed into a warehouse. Gun fire was peppering the cabs of the trucks, trying to kill whoever was driving them. Ludwig had no love for the IDRG, but no one deserved to die like that. He hated firearms. Found them to be the supreme coward's weapon.

He took off towards the gunfire. Instead of finding soldiers of the Eye, he found the Bayside Bandits. The Frogs had discovered they were working with the Eye, but he was surprised to find them without a handler from the cult.

"What are you mooks waiting for!?" a burly man in a luchador mask yelled at the other men. "Shoot the freak!"

Before they could open fire, however, Bach swung down with his tongue off a lightpole and bowled into the men with the guns. They were sprawled across the ground, and the man in the mask ran towards the center of the caravan.

"That was eas-" before Bach could finish, he was hit across the back by a baseball bat.

The weapon was then swung at Ludwig, who caught it before it could strike him across the face. He snarled at the man holding it, who was somehow almost as large as the mutant frog. He was strong. Strong enough to make that hurt, which normal humans hadn't been able to do up until now. The frog asked, "Who the hell are you?"

"Name's Crash," the big, muscular human responded with a smile. "You're messin' up my boss's plan."

"Yea, well, your boss is an a-hole," Lud answered as he ripped the bat from the thug's hands and tossed it aside. He threw a combination of punches towards the man, which he dodged with surprising speed, before delivering an uppercut to Ludwig. The punch stung a bit, and caught the big frog by surprise. He had never seen someone fight like this. The fact that he was a normal human was even more surprising. "You're gonna pay for that."

"I don't think so," he smirked.

"Bro! Look out!" a groggy Bach called to his sibling.

Ludwig looked up to see one of the IDRG trucks barreling towards him, driven by the masked man. He managed to turn his back, which was protected by a thick, protective hide, as the truck clipped him. It sent a shot of pain through his body, but he knew nothing serious was hurt. Still, he was unable to do anything as Crash climbed into the back of the truck. As he did, Ludwig saw that the truck was loaded with some mysterious canisters, and one very large containment unity.

The truck sped away, and the two frogs sat and tended to their aches.

"Well, that didn't go well," Bach spat.

"No, it didn't. Come on. Let's get home. Art and Clara are probably done by now."

WARNING: INCOMING MISSILES Chris’ helmet interface alerted him with a text overlay. The Judicator had used this all-out assault missile strike once before, when he had launched an assault against Chris’ mansion back in Virginia. At that time, Chris tried to use his suit’s energy shield to block the explosive weapons. However, he discovered that such an assault would severely reduce the effectiveness of Chris’ shielding. Since it’s insanity to repeat an action and expect a different result, Chris had to change up his tactics.

Chris therefore turned and launched up into the sky. Unfortunately, he could not make any immediate evasive actions since those missiles could slam into the nearby buildings. Unlike his high-tech suit, these missiles could not turn on a dime, instead of requiring a much large arc when veering off their initial course.

“Revert power to thrusters and rear shields.” Chris told his in-suit computer. Although at the moment he could not activate his anti-missile systems while his shields were up, that was a risk he had to take in order to ensure that the missiles would not cause any major collateral damage.

His plan was simple. Once Chris was in position, he would lower his shields and allow his suit to do the rest of the work. Chris had installed state-of-the-art DIRCM’s on his armor for such an occasion. Decoy flares would not work well in this situation for two reasons. First, most modern heat-seeking missiles had secondary systems installed that helped them distinguished the flares from the actual target. Since the Hounds were using S.T.R.I.K.E. tech, Chris knew that their weaponry would also be state-of-the-art. Second, what type of hero would Chris be if he would rain down burning-hot metal on civilians?

Although his anti-missile systems would eliminate the threat of the missiles against him, Chris still would not be in the clear. Despite the missiles would no longer be targeting Chris, that did not mean they would become instantly harmless. Even if Chris would fly out of the way way, these missiles would eventually fall back down to the ground and potentially strike residential and commercial areas. Therefore, he would also have to take them out, too.

“I’m inside. What am I supposed to do next?” Maya communicated wirelessly with Chris. This was an unfortunate wrench in Chris’ plan. Now he was going to have to juggle between dealing with these missiles and helping his girlfriend hook up the Archangel armor to the computer systems in Sherman Center.

“Do you see a computer set-up anywhere nearby?” Chris asked while he watched the statistics that his helmet interface was providing him about the missiles. Just a little bit further until he could lower his shields.

“I assume there’s some sort of wire located nearby to hook me in,” Maya continued after confirming that she had found the computer that Chris was referring to.

“It should be already connected. Normally, we would have someone down there to help plug in the cord, but considering our circumstances, you’re just going to have to do your best on your own.”

While he was giving those instructions, Chris had finally reached the distance where the missiles were only being propelled by the momentum that had launched them. Once Chris had deactivated his shields, his suit’s DIRCM started to blast the missiles with bursts of infrared energy. After his suit’s helmet overlay had confirmed that all the missiles were jammed, Chris performed an aerial somersault to position himself behind the missiles.

“And is there anything I need to do once I’m connected?”

“The computer will do everything for you. Just let me know when it gives you any feedback.” Chris told Maya. Meanwhile, the targeting system in Chris’ suit locked onto the jammed missiles and launched pin-point accurate bullets to detonate the warheads at a safe distance.

“You’re be the first to know if the computer starts to do anything weird.”

After dealing with both of these situations, Chris returned to the action back in front of Sherman Center. When he arrived there, Chris found the Judicator heading towards the entrance of Sherman Center. Landing in a hurry, Chris grabbed hold of the villain’s back and slammed him down into the pavement.

“You already destroyed my home one. You’re not getting into this one.”

Suddenly, an amber smoke hovered over towards the Judicators. Chris noticed that the mystical fog had also spread towards the other Hounds, whose weapons and gear began to rust and malfunction. Although he would have expected the Judicator to have started rambling about ‘we would have gotten away if you meddling heroes had to interfered.’ However, Chris only heard laughter.

“Don’t you know that S.T.R.I.K.E. has been studying magic long before those bitches were in diapers,” the Judicator told Chris. The armored villain then released a mist around him that dissipated the smoke that Lady Hex had generated and mended any damage that it might have done to his armor. Then, the Judicator grabbed Chris by the helmet and tossed him several feet down the street.

“You of all people should have know this.” The Judicator taunted Chris because of the armored hero’s prior association with S.T.R.I.K.E

Lullissa just came out of her rented apartment she had in around Peachtree St in Atlanta. She walked out in the normal hot day in the big city with her sunglasses on and with her purse in hand. The blond lady stepped out the door and first looked around to see if any cops were around. Once taking a minute to look left or right before concluding an all clear, she simply stepped unto the sidewalk pavement and began to walk calmly and leisurely down the street.

She knew this place well, Atlanta was the heart of the south and the most populated city in Georgia. Still, she tried to act tranquil as to not arouse suspicion. What really was on her mind however was how she was going to afford to pay her rent. Ever since the incident her life had turned upside down and what was once a normal woman in college now was given the slice of reality that is expense and trying to make a life for herself.

"Sheehs, it's been raining all week and stormin. This humidity sucks." She muttered to herself as she proceeded to walk down the sidewalk with her sunglasses on in the bright sunny day.

"I gotta find someplace to work, if I don't pay my bills then Chad is going to have my butt on the rent."

Sadly for her, there was also a problem with her finding a simple job. She was a super-mutant,a super mutant who only had the capability for destruction.

The woman continued to move down the street looking around for places of work, but also bearing in mind her "condition". What she needed was someone, anyone who would look past her problems or even better, could make use of them. Sadly however, what she needed wouldn't be found in the papers or on social media. Lulissa needed some lucrative work that would allow her to make use of her new "other self".

Suddenly a car began to speed down the road as cars swerved to avoid it and horns from frustrated pedestrians were honking. The car swerved erratically and came right at her!

"Yipe!" Lulissa said as she only had a split second to get out of the way, luickly the driver missed and was able to turn back on the street as he sped off behind her.

"You goddamn dumbass! Watch where you're going!" She shouted as she began to get upset.

With this her powers began to kick in. She her natural adrenaline kicked in and she began to enlarge slightly. However, she then heard the sound of police sirens coming from pursing cop cars. She had little time to hastily run and crouch down in the alleyways as the cop cars rushed past that corner of the street with sirens going off and lighting off.

"Oh crap, I barely escaped the fuzz." She said to herself as the now slightly giant sized girl waited for the coast to become clear before she stepped out and turned to face the chase scene happening down the street.

The car that only ran her over now did a loud swerving turn as it's rubber burnt and it rushed down the street followed by the police cars. Sadly for Lulissa her curiosity got the better of her and she began to follow them to intersection light and on the other corner of the street.

---

There have been worse rooms than the bare backbones of a little bedroom that they had given him. His dual colored eyes blinked in mild surprise, and his gaze swept over the militaristic, neat place. After a brief pause, he sat down on the "bed." With only a worn bed, a single metal nightstand with a yellowing lamp, an old drawer set, and a set of hooks on the wall, Jai Hale ran his hands down his thighs to his knees.

Weapons of an unknown origin were taken from him, a "gift" given to him before his arrival to the military base. The only thing that he was allowed to keep was the small earpiece that was wrapped around his right ear, the same side as his blue eye. He blinked with the intent of changing his vision to heat, and his vision adjusted to view the two body heat signatures of the two officers who put him in the room. As he listened to the conversation outside, he noted that they still had no idea as to what he was truly capable of doing.

"He's a danger. We've done all of the tests we could on him ever since he returned and it's as if someone's gone crazy on him."

The other he was speaking with had gestured for him to follow. "Yes, but he could be beneficial to us later. Especially, if the results are what you say they are." There was a pause, and Jai blinked again to change his vision from heat to x-ray to watch as the person speaking started to flip through some documents held in his hand. He flicked the papers back into place before closing the folder. Handing it to the other, he continued in a manner-of-fact tone, "Have you tried testing his capabilities yet?" He straightened his posture, hands held together behind him.

"No, sir, we haven't—"
"Do it."
"But, sir! He's—"
"Did I ask for your opinion, soldier?" His tone was sharp.
His shoulders minutely slumped before he squared himself and shook his head. "No, sir."
"What'd you say?"
"No, sir!"

"Good." He turned and began to walk away from the bedroom and led the other down the halls that Jai had walked through prior. "Ready the testing fields and prep him for combat."

"Yes, sir!"

And the conversation ended. Blinking again, Jai switched his vision from x-ray to normal and glanced about the room once more. With a sigh, he set down the small bag of belongings they allowed him to have by the nightstand and shifted to laying down on the bed. With his fingers laced behind his head, he looked over the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes. Tomorrow, he'll be fighting for the first time since he's returned, and Jai wasn't sure how his fellow brothers-in-arms would view him since who he once was is no more.

---

As the Humvee came to a stop on the very outskirts of an expansive field, Jai was ordered to remain standing in the place marked. "Here," the driver said as he had his hand on the door handle, "they're going to give you your next orders through that so don't break it, you hear?"

Jai nodded.

"Remember, you need to show all of your abilities. They're going to be watching so watch yourself, Hale."

With a minute nod, he took a step out and took a quick look around to note the expansive space of the nothingness around him. When he spotted the marking on the ground spray painted with a red "x," he looked back to watch as the vehicle drove off in the direction of what he could only assume to be the base. However, even as his gaze flitted around him, he observed that there was nothing he could see in the distance. There were no buildings and no sign of life out in the middle of what he could only assume to be the desert. Temperatures were bearable, cold when the sun had yet hadn't entirely risen over the horizon, and it would melt what little of the chill that the desert would gather in the winter. With not a single cloud in sight, it was making to be a very clear day.

And he could only assume what they were going to do.

He flexed his fingers and placed the small radio into his ear. The range, he guessed, had to be no further than five miles, and was just out of his range. They were wary, that much was clear, and they couldn't find out any further information from him as to his whereabouts the last seventy years that had enabled him to have such advanced pieces of technology and abilities. Still, their concern was evident in even the soldier who drove him out here. Apprehension, suspicion, and fear were emotions that seemed to haunt each person he had interacted with since he arrived at this particular military institution. He didn't blame them, no, but rather understood on some level their concern. After all, he was mostly an alien with how different he had become.

With the radio neatly placed in the one ear, he lifted a hand to press against the earpiece on the other. Immediately, in a shutter of blue angler lines of light, his head was quickly engulfed in a sleek black helmet. Warm, amber colored slim lighting lit up, and a cool blue HUD appeared. His radar blipped on screen, and it indicated a rapidly approaching object. Widening his stance, he shifted and turned to the approaching missile. The moment it showed in range, the cameras inside the helmet zoomed in on the missile, and a countdown clock appeared in the upper right corner of his interface of how soon it'd be before it collided with him. Without any information as to what he was supposed to do with the incoming missile, he changed positions and braced for impact.

Seven.

His sensors began chiming more warning sounds as more missiles shot in his direction. Glancing at the radar, he noted two more projectiles headed his way. Jai leaned forward into a runner's stance, hands placed on the ground with practiced precision.

Six.

He pushed off the ground and took off into a run before he jumped and effortlessly soared through the air for several long seconds before landing.

Three.

Jai rotated and changed directions to the second incoming missile between where the other paths of the rockets would collide.

Two.

They were in plain view now, missiles that were four times his size, and were a danger to him if they landed. Waste of ammo, if Jai had to say so himself, but he needed to show his superiors of the changes that had come about in the last seventy decades. While unpleasant memories threatened to surface, he pushed them back down and focused on the task at hand. There was no time to dwell on the past when he was finally back home.

One.

At the very last second, he jumped high into the air and landed on top of the first launched missile and dug his hands into the metal cover that covered the rocket to keep himself steady as he flew straight. Breaking open the panel where he knew the computer hardware was for their guidance and flight system, his eyes glanced at the screen and the vast array of wires inside. The interface began to analyze the sneak peek he had at the hardware and began to break down each of its components while processing and eliminating the possible make and model of the missile within mere nanoseconds. Rearranging a few select wires and then breaking a few, the rocket changed its target from him to the second incoming missile. The missile continued to climb in elevation toward the second missile, and the ground soon became further and further away from view.

Bracing himself, he jumped once more at the last second before the collision and was falling, propelled by the explosion. He turned mid-air as the previous missile came flying toward him as he rapidly fell. Jai pulled his left arm back and prepared for impact from both the ground and the rocket itself. When the missile drew close, he punched it to divert its path to space off to his right and exploded just as he landed with a resounding and explosive boom in the ground.

Chunks and pieces of the ground flew outward from the created crater. Moments later, Jai rose to sit and shrugged off the stiffness that came from landing as roughly as he had. Dusting himself off as best as he could, he stood and shrugged his shoulders once more. His clothes looked wrecked with rips and tears from the crash into rock and the ground itself, but his helmet was unscathed as was the rest of him. He could still feel the faint tingling of his skin from being stitched back together that would have usually killed a human being.

The radio crackled in his left ear. "Hale, we're going to send more missiles and droids your way so prepare yourself."

"Sir, permission to speak?" Jai asked, rolling his shoulders as he made his way out of the crater.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before he spoke again. "Go ahead."

"Is there a purpose in doing all of this? You already have done all the testing you wanted on me, and there's nothing else I can give you." Jai mused that they wanted to get on video the level of prowess he had in combat and use it for later along with the other samples and tests they had done. However, there was something in the works that had his contracts changed, and he was being taken to work for another person. And it was someone who had wanted to keep him a secret.

Jai understood why without even having to ask. After all, his mission had yet to begin, and he knew that when the protocol was activated, it would be the end for him.

"Because you'll be leaving our service, Hale," the man said solemnly. "And when you leave, you'll be fighting a different kind of war."

So, to memorialize him, hm? How unfortunate. Still, all of his friends and family that he had once upon a time, were now long dead and he was one of the few that had survived the war that had once haunted his dreams. With nothing left to lose, Jai continued to be the faithful and obedient soldier people had wanted him to be.

"You understand?"

Unfortunately, he did. But he had a feeling that his superior wouldn't get what he wanted and in the end, this would merely be a training exercise and nothing else.

"Yes, sir. Now, send me everything you have."

The Man in Black’s sudden “attack” took Lyger by surprise, sweeping him off his feet. Before he knew it, the newcomer had grabbed him and with the aid of a grapple gun swung them both out of the Hounds’ line of fire and to safety, at least temporarily. After a brief exchange, which included a crack about “easily identifiable cat ears,” the Man in Black dropped Lyger back down into the alley below. While the fall may have proven deadly for most, it proved to be of little concern to the feline hero. Not only was Lyger naturally gifted with sure feet, however, the recent addition of impact suppressors in his boots during Harry’s last round of upgrades allowed him to drop several stories without so much as missing a beat.

As Lyger plummeted toward the ground, he spotted four of the Hounds who had been in pursuit of he and the Man in Black when they had ascended toward the rooftops. He shifted his weight as he fell, putting himself on a collision course with one of the Hounds below. As Lyger approached the ground, he stuck his foot out and caught one of the Hounds square in the forehead, snapping his head backward as he was flung back, landing in a heap on the ground. Lyger allowed the momentum to take him to the ground, where he rolled away, just out of reach of another of the Hounds and bounded to his feet, striking at the Hound’s jaw with an open fist strike.

Before the Hound hit the ground, Lyger pounced to the next, hitting him with a barrage of fists, feet, knees and elbows. With each blow, Lyger felt bones break and teeth come loose. The battered Hound’s knee buckled and he started to go to the ground, however Lyger pulled him up by the collar of his shirt and hit him with a hard right and that put him down for the count. Before he could turn to face the last Hound in the alley, his body seized and he was sent flying through the air, where he hit the side of one of the buildings that made up the alley.

“What…? What was…” he said in a daze.

Everything was fuzzy and he was seeing double. He tried shaking off the effects of the attack, and after a moment, his vision had cleared. The fourth Hound walked toward him with confidence. On his hands were a pair of hi tech gloves with a wide metallic brim over the knuckles which spit blue sparks. The Hound clanged the gloves together sending a cascade of sparks raining down from them as he approached the fallen hero.

“I hate cats.” The Hound said as he raised his fists up. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.” Then, the Hound held is hands out in front of him, and a bolt of blue lightning arced out from the gloves at Lyger.

Almost as if acting on instinct, or perhaps muscle memory, Lyger reached out and fired a grapple line from his wrist gauntlet and then immediately activated the self recoil function, which pulled him out of harms way at great speed. While he was in midair, Lyger disengaged the grapple line and allowed himself to go into a controlled freefall. He kept the Hound in his sights and as he came back to the ground he delivered a hard right cross that sent several of the Hound’s teeth flying from his face.

While Lyger stood over the fallen Hounds still dazed from the electric shock he had suffered and trying to collect himself, the Man in Black reappeared beside him.

“I trust you landed ok…whadid I miss?”

Lyger looked around the alley at the fallen Hounds as well as the scorch marks on the brick façade of the building where the electrified Hound had nearly fried him, then back to the Man in Black.

“Oh, not much. Now, what do you say we put these dogs down for good?”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________



Icon stood there as the mech he had just been dealing with crashed into another of the mechs, sending both of them crashing to the ground. There was a sudden, muted explosion as the mech that he had been engaged with suddenly burst into flame, which quickly spread and engulfed the second mech within moments. Then, he heard the screams.

My God! Icon thought to himself as he heard the panicked screams of the men trapped inside the monstrous machines. Some of the others, such as Pantheon may have left the men to their fiery deaths inside the mechs, but that was not an option for Icon. Though these men had committed horrendous atrocities, they didn’t deserve that. Indeed, they needed to face justice for what they had done, and if he or any of the others had left them to die, that would not be justice; that would be revenge, and that would make him no better than the Hounds of Humanity.

Without wasting any more time, he sprung into action. Arriving at the first mech, he found that there was no easy way to get the pilot free. There was no door that was accessible to open, so he figured that he would just have to do the next best thing— make one. Icon made a fist and punched the side of the mech, leaving a rather large dent where he had made contact. He repeated the process, this time instead of a dent, he had punched a hole right in the body of the mech. Grabbing at the mangled steel with both hands, he tore a sizable chunk of metal away from the mech’s mangled body. He then reached in and grabbed the pilot and pulled him from the burning chassis.

“Do yourself a favor, don’t get up.” Icon said to the Hound pilot as he kneeled on all fours gasping for air. Then Icon went to work on the second mech.

He repeated what he did on the first mech, punching a hole in the body of the machine and tearing the metal from there, creating a hole that was more than wide enough to get an adult male through. However, as he reached in to pull the second pilot from his mech, he was met with a .38 revolver. The panicked Hound opened fire on the blue and silver clad hero, bullets striking him in the face, chest, and neck, yet each bullet bounced off of him harmlessly, though a single bullet ricocheted back into the mech, imbedding itself in the control console.

“Like that’s going to work.” Icon said as he reached in and gave the pilot a tap on the head; that while was light in nature was more that enough to knock the man unconscious, and then he pulled the man from the wreckage.

As Icon stood there before the wrecked mechs and their pilots, he was suddenly aware of a new presence.

”Long time no see, old friend,” she said with a grin over the visible part of her lower face. She nodded at the rest nearby. ”I see you've gathered quite the party together. Where do you need me?”

Guilt suddenly washed over him as he looked over and made eye contact with his old ally. Though he hadn’t seen much of her since her injuries had forced her to retire from the hero life, they had kept somewhat in touch.

“Ideally, a farm in Syracuse.” he said remorsefully, before a smile crossed his face. “But since you’re here…why don’t we take down some of those choppers.”

---

"Archie? Who is...aaaaah!" Voyager squeaked in delight when she saw the sugar glider poke his nose out. "He is so cute! I am glad he is so helpful too!" Hovering over to the ledge to survey the battlefield, the alien girl was about to ask what kind of creature Archie was before she got a face-full of rainwater from the sudden shift in the weather. Hoping that her outfit was weatherproofed, Voyager was brought back to the seriousness of the fight and scoured the ground for targets.

It didn't take long to find either as a convoy rolled around the corner, evidently drawn by the sight of their helicopters getting blown out of the sky. As Voyager charged up some PsiBlasts, noting with slight interest the steam rising from her Psionicly charged hands, she saw the stubby looking truck escorted by regular and chrome-plated soldiers come to a halt in view of her and Hound Dog. Squinting through the now pouring rain, she spotted the box on the back of the truck lift up to reveal a missile launcher, turned to aim right at the rooftop they were occupying.

"Oh no you do not!" Voyager called out, springing into action and flying right at the launcher, taking out a pair of soldiers with a concussive blast each and staggering most of the others. The soldiers flew into a panic at the sight of her approaching form as one of the chrome-plated soldiers swung around a machine gun to rake the air with automatic fire.

"Aaagh!"

Voyager cried out as something painfully hot sliced across her outstretched arm, grazing her before she could throw up her PsiBarriers. Adopting the same strategy she did with the helicopter, albeit with less punching through, she kept going at full speed and careened right into the chrome soldier, sending him careening through a glass bus stop. Voyager winced as her arm twinged in pain, gripping it tightly where the bullet grazed her. She was having no trouble with her Psionics so she was pretty sure she wasn't seriously injured, but boy did that hurt. Voyager didn't have too long to think about that though as the other chrome-plated soldier had clambered up the side to duel with her.

"Well well, the alien that took out the Gargoyle," the soldier taunted, rolling his shoulders menacingly. "I heard you were a special breed of mutie, but I didn't think you'd be this ugly." There was a click as the latch on his helmet disengaged and he removed it, revealing his long blonde hair and dark colored eyes filled with murderous intent as he mockingly held out his helmet. "Here, you sure you don't want to be the one wearing this, mutie?"

"That is just rude," Voyager said indignantly, raising her fists in preparation for a fight. "And my name is Voyager, thank you very much."

"Is that what they call you? Not bad, I'll admit," the soldier mused, pitching the helmet over his shoulder as an indicator on his wrist went off. Lowering into a battle stance, he swung his fists up as, in a blaze of heat and light, the devices on his wrists ejected three-bladed claws, burning red-hot despite the driving rain. "My friends call me Razorburn."

"Oh boy..."

"Nice, isn't it? Well, enough with the pleasantries then," Razorburn declared before lunging at the alien super-heroine. "We're having calamari for dinner!"

Voyager threw up her Psibarriers with a yelp as the claws collided against it in a blinding shower of sparks and heated metal. Feeling the attack subside, Voyager brought her arms down and prepared to weather another attack, but it never came. She opened her eyes and saw, with some amusement, Razorburn staring forlornly at his now deformed and useless claws that had shredded themselves trying to pierce her Psibarriers.

"I uh...may not have thought this through..." he mumbled dejectedly, looking up just in time for a two-handed Psiblast to hit him right in the chest. The blast knocked the remains of the claws off his arms and sent him sailing down a subway entrance, trailing smoke behind him.

"If it means anything, I like the name!" Voyager shouted after her enemy, lifting off into the air to deal with the missile launcher. The rest of the soldiers scattered as a precise PsiBeam cut through the launcher, cooking off the missiles and exploding in a brief but bright fireball as Voyager lifted back towards the rooftop with the archer.

”Tend to your friend,” the archer suddenly said, tossing Voyager a small package from her pocket. ”He’s been hit in the shoulder. Use that to treat the wound."

"You got it arrow lady!" Voyager declared, catching the pack easily before looking to see where Hound Dog went off to.

"We’ll need to start taking out more of these mechs that are attacking the city,” the archer went on, finally turning to look at her ”Can you and your friend do that once he’s patched up?”

"Nothing we cannot handle. It is not the first time we have dealt with big robots from these guys," she said with a knowing grin.

”The name’s Fletch, by the way. Nice meeting you. Oh… and thank you.”

"Always happy to help," the alien said proudly. "And I am Voyager, nice to meet you too!" Waving happily as Fletch descended from the building, Voyager turned in midair and made her way to the fight with Hound Dog.

@Mercinus3

Bodmin Moor United Kingdom - Dozmary Pool - Sometime in the early morning

The warmth from the rising sun began to wash over the hills and cover the lake where legend tells of a mythical lady. It was here Arthur took his sword and here they say it was returned however no one knows for sure though some say you can see a lovely woman drifting along in the mist.

Gliding between the misty lake shore a woman in a white dress shifted between hills caring for things hidden to the eyes of mortals as a horse with a jet black coat crossed the lake as if firm ground was underneath it’s hooves rising until it was completely above the water; glancing towards it the woman held out reeds and floated over to it stroking it’s mane and removing a finger dangling off her hand sweeping through the sticky coat without worry as her palm was protected in a clear film of lake water. As water sprites kept their distance and playfully announced her visitors.

Besides Merlin floated Arthur and his glowing golden aura repelling a Black Dog that had wandered into the area as he growled and kept a steady pace behind them all the while the lady holding the reeds whilst feeding the strange horse turned. “Arthur.” She spoke plainly as the horse backed away towards the water slipping from the Lady’s grasp.

”You look well Coventina, I have finally found a potential successor.

“I could feel it, Excalibur spoke to me, told me of another who wields it. I can feel more than that Magic that is not hers runs through her veins. Your’s I presume?”

”Excalibur always was quite the songbird in my world.”

Dipping the reeds back into the water Coventina stood as they floated washed away by the ripples. “All is fine for now, but who are you?”

Smirking Merlin spoke letting loose her haughty attitude.”I am Merlin.”

“Your words are true and false explain yourself for I know Merlin and he is not you.” Coventina questioned as her feet took her closer to her cottage home resting by the shore.

”And he is not here to claim otherwise. No I am Merlin but not the one who you knew, my Arthur, my Coventina they are gone and so is the world that I inhabited.”

Laying her hand upon the fence of intertwined branches Coventina simply turned away taking in the words Merlin had spoken. As dew dripped from the grass Merlin stepped forward. ”Eva must take the trials, if the sword doesn’t fully acknowledge her she won’t stand against what is coming.

Coventina tilted her head with a slight motion and asked. “And that is?”

-- The clock overhead struck ten as the pendulum swung a man sitting near a fireplace checked his watch the gears creaked as he cranked it even despite the frequent oilings. A smile stared back as footsteps closed in from outside the room.

An arm pushed back his companion and shoved him back toward the wall. “You remember keep your mouth shut, it ain’t time, still twenty seconds early.”

“I know I know,”

“You talk out of line we lose big, almost eight thousand pounds. So shut your trap and move only when I move.”

The door creaked and startled the men. The man in white stepped forward looking more like a bartender than a debonair gentleman; same could be said for his friend of sorts. However their employer wore shoes whose price tag would pay for their entire operation and with a bit of panache he turned on his heels. “Morning gents.” The two words sent cold chills down each of their spines as if liquid ice was poured down their backs. ”I see you are missing Bronco. No matter. He already failed once and the girl yet lives. But you two acquired what I wanted and with a few more pieces your work will be done.” Once his mouth closed the shivering stopped as a more natural atmosphere took hold of the room once more.

“Ye,eah boss. Got those weird artifacts you wanted. Heard they had to cut back on the witch exhibit they did. You tell us what we need we’ll grab it.”

Shock Jockey took a gulp of his own saliva as Greasefire spoke to their employer still awed the man could speak at all under the weird vibes he caught from the refined individual before them. A little bit longer he thought as their boss picked up a paper.
“I just need two more items. One is under watch by the Ars Obscura they’ve been picking up hints of it. Snatch it before they understand what it is least we need to break into their Reliquary. The other should be easy enough, the map you found details where the last piece is. Buried to time.”

Greasefire’s fingers had a nervous twitch and stopped only when he held his hand. “Talk like you know where that Reliquary is. But yeah we’ll grab it, both of them.”

“Good good.” As the ominous air subsided he lifted his watch and before he looked into it said. “Fail me at your own peril. Afternoon lads.” His arm fell limp after seeing his own reflection and groggily he looked at the two who stood in his study. “You’re early didn’t hear you enter, good. I take it you have news?”

“Of course Mr. Wahlforth.” The men had a sigh of relief as the air felt breathable again.

“What, out of breath? You two hurry up here, no matter. Tell me now what you’ve learned!”

Setting a folder down Greasefire handed Mr. Wahlforth some photos. “You’re Uncle Sterling has been cooking the books, stealing from your company. We’ll need to do a sting or two to fully catch him in the act, but there’s enough evidence to implicate him.”

Nathaniel examined every inch of the photos, the papers, and their entire contents. Staying still for what seemed an hour as the two made themselves comfortable. “It, It does not seem real. Fine catch him in the act, only them will I take action. I just cannot believe it. His support was pivotal to our company..” Standing up he furiously pointed towards the door. “WELL GO! Get me that proof! It’s why I hired you investigators.”

“Course boss. We’ll get you everything.”

IDRG Pyramid

Clara and Mozart snaked their way through the war-torn high tech headquarters of the Integrated Dimensional Research Group. They had escaped from this very building months ago, but then it was a pristine, sterile white environment. Now it was something out of a horror film. The group's security robots were lying in pieces as if wild animals had torn into them. Along with their scattered remains were a few of the human scientists, their blood was smeared across the walls, a sign of them trying in vain to get away from the Eye's brutal assault.

"This is disgusting," Clara shook her head as they traversed the grisly scene.

Mozart agreed, but stayed silent. The Church of the All-Seeing Eye had always seemed to have an issue with the IDRG, but this was more than an issue. This was unrelenting hate. The work of animals and monsters, not of men. While he and his siblings were no more human than a normal frog, there was something otherworldly entirely about the men and women who followed the Church. The Witch was certainly the worst of the bunch, but even the rank and file members gave off some serious bad mojo.

After a while, the siblings came to the office of the director of the IDRG. Dyer was a mysterious man. The frogs rarely saw him, even when they were captives here. In the press, Dyer gives off an air of paternal benevolence. That was a show, of course. What the frogs had seen from the man was cold and calculating. He was driven. He had a goal. It was undefined to them, but he was willing to sacrifice anything to achieve it.

His office door was blown out, and three dead Eye commandos laid dead at the entrance. Art could hear people talking from inside of the office.

"You came all this way...just to fail again," a deep, menacing, and slightly alien voice said. Art peered in to see what he thought was a corpse wrapped in shadow. The man's face was cracked and caked with dried blood. His garb looked like the ninjas Art had seen in depictions of feudal Japan, but it almost looked like it was an organic wrap more than cloth. Almost like he was dressed in a recently skinned hide of some terrible monster. "I was impressed. But now, I'm just disappointed you made it this easy again. And in coming to this reality you've given us the key to the multiverse. Soon we will be all."

"And what happens when you're done consuming?" Dyer spat back. "What happens when there's nothing left to eat."

"Then we will be born anew...only to be consumed again."

With that, the shadow warrior raised his hand. The living cloth that covered him slid up and over his skin like the most grotesque snake Art had ever seen, before forming itself into a blade. Before he could swing it down onto the IDRG director, however, it was deflected away by a toss of Art's staff. The frog then rushed at the man in black, and leapt over a slash of his weapon. The frog landed by his thrown bo and picked it up, ready for another attack.

"Ah, I was wondering if I'd see you here," the decaying man smiled a hideous smile. "Dyer's slaves. Well, the ones that were meant to be slaves."

Clara, who had taken up a position on the man's other flank, snarled, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, so you don't know?" he chuckled. While he did not drop his guard, he didn't look very worried about the two of them either. He radiated with a dark energy the likes neither of them had ever seen before. "Dyer meant for you to be part of his army to defeat me. But you were a bad batch. Too much freewill. Man is corruptible of course. It's why the good director here is powerless against me. But nature...nature is its own force. Wild, passionate, and hungry. That is why my priestess and I cannot dominate your minds. It's why you are able to stand against the might and knowledge of the great devourers while so few can."

Clara and Mozart exchanged a glance. Art knew it was foolish to believe someone who was clearly so evil, but this was the first real explanation for why the frogs existed in the first place. Still, there was almost assuredly more to the story. There had to be, the eldest frog thought.

"You as sick of this guy as I am?" he asked his sister.

She sighed, "You have no idea."

With that, the two frogs descended on their new enemy. The two siblings may have been oil and water when it came to making decisions, but when the fighting started they were perfectly in sync. They flowed over and around one another, with Clara slashing with her war fans and Mozart swinging his bo staff to land haymakers. The only problem was the man moved like the shadow he resembled. His body contorted unnaturally, almost if the living shroud around him bent his body where it needed to be. They could hear the cracks of his bones as they contorted around the frogs' strikes.

Before he was backed into a corner, he went on the counter attack. He landed blow after blow, spinning at them like a whirlwind of blades. Art and Clara were soon on the ground in front of the large window that overlooked San Maria, with the demon looming over them. Art felt the pain seeping into his nervous system, and saw his blood on the man's fists.

The shadow looked back at Dyer, "A shame. Even your weapons are disappointing. No matter. I'll dispose of them for you."

"How about I dispose of all of us?" Dyer said through gritted teeth before pressing a button on his belt.

A momentary look of amused disgust came over the shadow's face before Dyer exploded, engulfing the room in flame and blowing the huge window out behind the frogs.

The last thing Art remembered before blacking out was the sensation of freefalling towards the street below.

The sound of hundreds of panicked bystanders filled the 5th Street Promenade while enhanced metahumans, driven crazy by a device the Hounds had invented, wreaked havoc on the popular Pacific Point social scene. In the distance, smoke from the fires caused by these metahumans drifted up towards the heavens. Considering the ruckus, heroes from all over the city must have heard about what was going on. Otherwise, there’s going to be one giant mess in the morning.

I was at lost of what I should do now. While this giant ice metahuman posed a definite threat to the crowd of bystanders, who were running for their lives, she was also a victim of the Hounds, who had warped her metahuman powers into a weapon of mass destruction. How was I supposed to keep this ice meta from harming innocent people while at the same time not harming it?

“Hey, Web-Spinner,” Pin-up interrupted my trail of thought, “Could you distract this second-rate ice titan? I think I can give it one major headache. There’s a reason why I’m said to make people’s dreams come true.”

“You better make it quick, then. There’s got to be dozens of these things from the sound of this commotion,” I replied before leaping into the fray. However, even though I approached the roided out metahuman, it did not heed me any attention. Instead, it was still focused on a few nearby civilians. Therefore, I shot two web strands from my wrists at the metahuman’s ankles.

“Hey! Eyes over here!” I shouted at it. I then yanked on the web strands, pulling its feet out from under it. I could tell I had gotten its attention when it slammed its fists against the ground before it leaped up into the air and landed right next to me. At this moment, I really wished that Kyra was here right now. Her fire abilities would be quite useful in this situation.

“I’m sorry about this, but this is going to hurt me way more than it’s going to hurt you,” I said, even though I had no idea if this metahuman could comprehend what I was saying. Probably would not matter either way.

I wound up a punch and slammed the creature in the face. The impact of the punch forced the ice-meta to stumble backwards by a few steps. However, almost immediately after I landed the punch, I felt an excruciating pain on the hand that had made contact. It felt as if my knuckles were on fire, yet at the same time there was a numbness. I therefore ripped off my glove and, to my surprise, I discovered that the contact with the metahuman, even with a glove on, gave me a severe case of frost bite. I did not mean it literally when I said this punch was going hurt me more. At least I could tell that my healing factor was already tending to this injury. But this new discovery was going to give us trouble while dealing with this metahuman.

“Don’t make contact with it!” I called out to Emily as I winced at the pain in my hand, “It’s skin is freezing cold!”

Blinded by its tunnel vision, the ice metahuman continued to come after me. I had to push through the pain of my frost-bitten knuckle to keep out of this meta’s clutches. Even though my metahuman powers would soon heal my affliction, I sure did not want to feel that pain again. Unfortunately, this also meant that, unless I wanted to damage my hands some more, I would not be able to make any physical contact with it to somehow slow it down. I had to figure out some other alternative. If there were some sort of small object, like a baseball bat, I might be able to use that. The real issue was finding something like that on the street.

“How’s that plan coming along?”

“Something’s wrong,” Pinup responded, “I can’t seem to draw out its fear. Either it can only focus on one thing at a time and just ignoring my powers, or there’s just not enough left in its noggin to have any fears.”

“Great,” I answered back Pinup’s not so encouraging news. I guess it’s time for plan B. The small device that that Hound goon attached to this meta must be the thing that’s driving it crazy. But how am I going to remove it? The frostbite issue will not allow me to rip it off. Or will it? I was able to grab its attention with my web lines without causing any harm to myself. Maybe I could use my spider silk as an extension of my body.

I then sprayed the ice meta in the face with some web fluid, hoping that it would at least momentarily distract the enraged metahuman for just enough time to try to remove the Hounds’ device. I shot a web line at the device and started yanking on it. I applied all of my strength on this task, yet the device would not budge. I kept trying and trying, but it just would not come loose. And because I could not remove the device in a quick fashion, the ice meta had enough time to remove the spider silk I used to temporarily distract it. Time was up.

The ice metahuman tried to yank back on the web line, but I had braced myself against this move. A tug of war seemed to be at a stalemate, so the victim of the Hounds started to inch towards me while still pulling back on the web line. I only had so much slack on my web line, so I could not back up without letting go and giving up on my plan B.

In my desperation, I tried to incapacitate the ice meta with another web spray to the face. However, unlike last time, the metahuman was prepared for my trick. Although the webbing hit its mark, the ice-powered creature continued approaching, using my web line as a guide. The momentary pause I took to try to blind the meta provided an opening to close the gap between us. Now that I was in arms reach of the ice metahuman, it grabbed hold of me and lifted me above its head. I felt a freezing sensation where its hands made contact with my body. Nevertheless, since it had to drop my web line to pick me up, I was had an opportunity to yank off the Hounds’ device. I just had to power through the temporary pain.

While I continued to pull on the web line, the ice metahuman turned towards Pinup. Although it was blinded by my webbing, it could still hear Pinup’s shocked voice when she saw the ice metahuman pick me up. When the ice metahuman had its bearings on Pinup, it hurled me at her. Since I was airborne, I could not do much to affect my trajectory. Therefore, I collided with Pinup before rolling a few feet across the street. I was dazed for a moment from the impact, but I was relieved when I checked the end of my web line, which I managed to take with me. The device the Hounds had planted on that metahuman had come off. When I glanced back at where the ice meta had been standing, I found a young woman sprawled on the ground, evidentially warn out by the transformation.

“Are you alright?” I called out to Pinup, who was trying to pull herself off the ground after we had collided.

“I’ve seen better days, but I’ll make it,” Pinup replied back.

“No thanks to you, monster,” I heard a man’s voice shout out towards me. Right after he spoke, laughter broke out all around me. I found myself surrounded by dozens of bystanders, all inching closer and closer towards me. Why were they not trying to escape? By remaining, they were putting themselves at risk.

“Are you seeing this?” I asked Pinup.

“See what?”

“This crowd that came out of nowhere!”

“Oh shit,” Pinup exclaimed, “Stay calm. They’re not real!”

Suddenly, a tomato pelted me straight in the face. Somehow, it did not sense the red fruit coming. Something was definitely not making any sense right now.

“It definitely feels real.”

“It’s your mind playing tricks on you,” Pinup tried to explain, “I think when that ice meta tossed you at me, I inadvertently used my powers. I’ll try to dissipate it as quickly as I can!”

“Please hurry!” I pleaded, “I got a feeling this is about to take a turn for the worst.”

"Thanks."

The rustling of a paper bag. The unmistakable sound of a cash register opening to deposit coinage inside.

Kseniya gave a small, polite smile to the teen behind the counter of the donut shop as she walked out, her ill-gotten gains in her hand. It was one of many vices for her, sugary food, though it was perhaps the oldest. She found a bench nearby and sat down on it, taking out a donut and biting into it, the sweet, sickly taste of the sugared icing melting on her tongue, the sweetness of the dough almost dripping from her mouth. God, she enjoyed it. It was the first thing she'd had to eat all day. She didn't need to eat, per se, but it was always nice to indulge in life's simple pleasures. The sun was setting in the skies over Trenton, New Jersey, and what cloud cover there was, was lit in magnificent arrays of vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows, as though the sky itself were afire. She smiled and leaned back on the bench - a cool breeze blew through her long, blonde hair as she took another bite of the donut. Inside her jacket, her PPK rested easily inside its hard leather chest holster, for easy access. She wasn't allowed to carry it, of course, but the less the cops on the street knew, the better. Their concern was petty crime and the odd murder and robbery, not dealing with the likes of her. She reckoned even if she was found to be carrying a gun, most of the local cops on the beat would simply turn a blind eye to it under a bit of pressure. Pressure was the best dissuasion technique...

Her phone buzzed and vibrated in its pocket. Frowning, Rubis took it out, and clicked the home button to check what was going on. A new text, from an unknown number. Instinctively, Rubis' eyes darted about, wondering whether she was being tailed by someone, or something - nothing immediately suspicious stuck out in her mind, so she opened the text.

Call this number at the payphone.

She looked down the street, at what she assumed was the payphone in question. She raised an eyebrow, and finished her donut before putting her phone back inside her jacket and walking down towards the payphone, still alerted and on the lookout for anything suspicious. Perhaps she was being followed... but by someone who didn't want to harm her, at least not immediately. Perhaps it was a job offer, though usually those were through other channels, often by crooked employees of federal agencies, or by those in her network - it was seldom that she was contacted via a fucking payphone of all things. What was this, the 1990s? The fucking mafia or something? She walked over and put in a couple quarters, enough for a call for a few minutes. She hesitated before taking out her phone, but eventually, she did so, and punched in the number... the ring tone was agonisingly long. Finally, just as she was about to give up, the call was answered.

"What d'ya hear, what d'ya say... You got the text, I see. Was concerned about getting the wrong number, y'know, girl. Gotta say, business ain't what it used t'be round here. Gone quiet."

She knew the voice instantly and smirked, shaking her head in disbelief. She had been joking earlier, but no shit, it was for real, it was the fucking Nostra. Johnny Tisarelli. "This had better be good, Tiss. You remember what happened last time you and I had a chat. You coming out from that little cave you and yours hid in?"

"Hehe... tha's the Roob I know. 'Ey, the feds might think they've got the upper hand around here, but man, they don't know the half of it, specially now that the Hounds and all that shit are around. They've been great in gettin' the feds' attention away from us. Now listen, I've been gettin' t'gether the old boys and reformin' the crews, and I need your help. Some slimy cocksuckers took over Corazzo Engineering whilst I was hidin', y'know the one, the big buildin' firm out by the riverside, yeah?"

"Let me guess, you want those... ahem, slimy cocksuckers dealt with, mhm? It'll cost you, Tiss."

"Momma always said nothin' in life was ever free. I gotcha on that score."

"Anything else, Tiss?"

"Y'know, if ever ya wanted a place to stay-"

"Not. Happening." There was a laugh from the other end of the phone line.

"Worth a shot. Call me when you get that done. I'll introduce ya to the new boys, alright?" The phone hung up, and Rubis slotted the receiver back into its holder. Jesus Christ, what was she thinking? Tisarelli had never done all that much good by her, but still, she couldn't exactly turn him down - fuck knows what he'd tell the feds about her more... illicit activities in exchange for some sweet, sweet cash. Money greased more palms than anything else, especially in this business - without money, you were useless; with it, you could do whatever you wanted - for a price, of course. Rubis took another bite of her donut as she walked down the street back to the bench, flipping through her phone for any information on Corazzo Engineering, the old construction firm Tisarelli and his lackey de Bono - or as Kseniya used to say, Boner - ran back in the late 90s and early Noughties. She was in luck. Sitting back down, she read through a news article that dated back to 2013, where it stated that Corazzo Engineering had been taken over by Liam and Padraig O'Shaughnessy. It was intriguing to say the least - de Bono's death in 2013 had opened a can of worms regarding Corazzo's future, especially with regards to some debts that the company had run up with a local materials firm that the Shaughnessy brothers had connections with - had Liam and Padraig agreed to buy the company to excuse the debts? And why hadn't Tisarelli stopped this? Did he even know Boner had been running a sinking ship?

Rubis took another bite of her donut, and looked up at the sky... and its hues of red. "Czerwony, jak krew."

---

Location: Corazzo Engineering construction site, Duck Island, Trenton, NJ
Time: Mid-Evening, approximately 21:30

"Stop here. Keep the change."

Rubis handed the taxi driver a ten dollar note, and got out of the car. A red Citroen... couldn't even get decent cars these days for a night of bloody business like this. She lit a cigarette and looked over at the steel shell that marked Corazzo's newest project - a high-rise on the outskirts of Duck Island, next to the riverside... A call from Tisarelli had confirmed that the marks were there to check up on the work... and to check up on some faulty accounting. The local foreman, a guy named Worthington, was on call, waiting for the brothers to arrive... Rubis didn't envy him one bit. When it came to roughing folks up, the Irish were worse than the Nostra, that was for damned sure. She walked over to the side of the road, and watched the site carefully from underneath a wide-brimmed hat - all that could be seen of her face was the low orange glow of a lit cigarette, and the clouds of smoke. For all the guys on the site knew, she was just a local hooker, with her blonde hair and her cheap tobacco, and her heels. It wasn't flattering, that's for sure, but her long overcoat was the perfect cover for her pistol... tonight, Irishmen would die, and the Nostra would reclaim that which was theirs by right and blood ties. Boner had run a sinking ship, but the Irish weren't to gain a foothold in Jersey... hell no.

It was odd. Last time Kseniya had worked for Johnny Tisarelli, things had gone sour. She'd ended up putting a bullet in his con's chest, she recalled... Jackie Maggiore, the rat. The FBI had turned up on a... 'routine' drug hit, and Rubis had been forced to shoot her way out - Tiss had begged and pleaded with her that he wasn't responsible, that he'd only found out Maggiore was a rat after he'd been seen talking with an agent that very day! It had taken every ounce of respect she had for the man - and a lot of money - to spare his life. And now, here she was again, Tisarelli's hitwoman. Still, he was right. Nothing in life came free, and mafia work was profitable, that was for damned sure. She could afford to splash out with it... She watched as a black BMW pulled up. Blacked out windows. Four men, two in suits, two in what looked like tracksuits. The brothers Grimm had arrived. They walked over to the gate guard and flashed ID in his face... The gate was open. She walked over towards the gate... the guard eyed her up.

"Who're you?"

"Oh, don't worry about me, handsome. I'm just waiting for a client... he said he'd meet me here." She smiled and batted her lids at the guard, who smirked.

"That so, huh. Wanna wait inside?"

An opportunity dawned... she intended to seize it with both hands. No doubt he had his own plans in mind for her... but she could easily overpower him. "Oh... that's very kind of you... I don't think he'll turn up at this rate." She walked over to the door, and she heard the key turn, the lock open and the handle slide back. The guard beckoned her inside, his smirk still on his face. When she was inside, he turned to the controls for the shutters on his guard hut.

"That's a mighty shame. Still... waste not, want not, huh honey?" The guard turned back to see Kseniya, far from indulging in his fantasy with him, instead had her PPK aimed directly at him. "Wait-", was all he could stammer out as she pulled the trigger. A suppressed clap. A single 7.65mm bullet. It punched clean through his skull and into his brain; he was dead before he hit the floor. She walked over and took the guard's keyring, and with it, she unlocked the door that led into the yard. The gate was closed, and the Irishmen were inside, no doubt heading towards the building site. Kseniya slipped the pistol back into her coat, opened the door and quietly walked down the steps into the dirt at the bottom, before walking slowly towards the building site, where she could see the Irishmen and Worthington holding a... conversation. Worthington was up against a pillar, with the two thugs flanking him... she walked closer, trying to keep the noise down. One of the thugs had a gun - a Glock from the look of it pressed up against the foreman's head - whilst the other had a crowbar in his hand. The brothers were raving about how 'money was being siphoned away' and 'things just weren't working out properly' for which, of course, they blamed the foreman. Dumb bastard probably didn't even know what was going on. But then something caught her attention - one of the brothers started yelling about how the 'Grey Watch weren't getting their due, and you know what that means'. The Grey Watch were in on this? That was odd - she thought the Watch were confined to the NYC area, and they were the techy sort, not the dumb-bastard-on-a-building-site type? What were they doing out here in Jersey, and connected with a dig of all things? Did the Shaughnessy brothers have a stake with the Watch?

It didn't matter for now. She walked towards the group, stockinged legs and heels underneath her grey fur coat. "Gentlemen? Can I help you in this fine evening?" All five of them looked over at her. The thug with the gun eyed her up.

"Worthington, you son of a bitch... you got a whore of yours?"

The foreman's terrified eyes turned to Kseniya. "N-No... who the fuck are you, and how did you get past the guard?!"

"He thought with his cock, not his head. That's how. I have a message for you all from Johnny Tisarelli... Chew on these." And with that, Rubis opened fire. Five suppressed shots. Five dead bodies.

Tisarelli, you owe me big time. Kseniya lit another cigarette and took a long drag, before walking over to search through the bodies...

Nicole sprawled along the top of the eastern temple wall, bare legs dangling, fingers intertwined over her stomach, and stared into the depths of the lightening sky. Birdsong rang clear through the air, the sound almost alien to her ears. She had always been in the city, trapped behind barriers of concrete and society both. Her parents had never quite been well off enough to take them camping, or hiking, or anything else that took more than a few hours. The closest she'd ever been to nature was Central Park when she was five, and that was two lifetimes ago now, it seemed. And while the growing sunlight didn't warm her bones like it should have, and she didn't even feel the prickles of energy that she remembered from dawn practises with the soccer team, dawn was still one of her favourite times of the day.

The mutters of some of the monks coming outside for early morning practise roused her from her perch. She sat up and watched them for a few moments, talking about who knew what. She knew by skin colour alone she'd always be at least slightly an outsider here, no matter how Alex framed it to her. Sure, they were open and inviting, but there was always a distance between her and them. White. Girl. Powered. All three put her on a completely different social strata, and whether they knew it or not, they would always treat her differently. Not that that changed if she went anywhere else, but here it was more pronounced.

She shifted her gaze and stared out over the forested mountainsides surrounding the temple's weathered stone walls. Birds took off from one tree a few hundred meters away, startled by something still hidden in the foliage, their colours flashing vivid blues and reds against the green backdrop. She could see why there were so many poets from ancient times that felt inspired by this area. If she was an artist, maybe she could put that feeling into a form others could perceive, but she had no talents with pen and paper. Something her teachers had constantly chided her for not trying to develop, but she had been focused on sports. Less because she enjoyed them, though she did, but more to try and earn a scholarship and get out of the rut her parents had fallen into.

Ruts. She was young, but she knew already that they were dangerous. Too much stagnation and things went sour, rotting on the vine. And her curse definitely made her more susceptible to falling into pattern and not getting out of them. She glanced back over her shoulder at the monks, and suddenly her jaw set. With one quick motion she flung herself off the wall and out of the temple, flopping and rolling as she crashed into the ground a hundred feet below and then further down the steep hillside. Several instances bounced her off trees, but except for useless air getting knocked out of her lungs, as usual nothing hurt her. The worst of it was the disorientation as her view changed randomly when she ricocheted off of three boulders and a tree, spinning madly.

After her head stopped spinning, she stood up slowly. Her choice of clothing for normal days proved good, as neither her gym shorts nor tanktop were more than slightly tattered. She looked up the ravine she found herself in, seeing nothing but greenery and grey stone. Well, shit. Guess I'm not finding my way back any time soon. Not that that was the idea, anyway. She found, to her surprise, it didn't seem to bug her too much any more that the fall she had just took would've guaranteed death to any normal person. Instead, she just had to pick sticks out of her tangled hair as she resolutely turned on her heel and marched off into the forests, aiming generally downhill.

---

She knew it hadn't been days, but only because her memory didn't match night to forest. It could've been several hours, several seconds, or several weeks for all she really knew since she had flung herself off the wall. She trudged on, tireless, dispassionately watching the foliage as it smacked into her face. If she had pockets in her shorts, she would've stuck her hands in them. As it was, she had snapped off some sort of thorny branch and was periodically taking vicious swipes at imagined foes. There were no tracks in this areas, no paths, so she was left to forge through undergrowth that may not have seen humans pass in a hundred years. She thought that it might've been nice to know what she was walking through, but she hadn't taken a biology course before and her family had never really been the outdoors-y type. Still, she filed the thought away for when she maybe went to school again.

The sudden appearance of the road came as somewhat of a shock. One minute she was wrestling with some especially thick vine plants, and then she had torn through them, only to be sent careening down another hill. Only when she came to a stop this time, it was on a dirt road, in a jumble of broken branches and small boulders. She sat up after coming to a stop on her back, arms splayed, looking to her right into the astonished eyes of a farmer who had been leading his mule, laden with bags, along the path. He stood perhaps thirty feet away, mouth working like a fish out of air. The mule looked completely unconcerned with the sudden appearance of a white girl out of the woods.

She was just about to ask him to stop staring, when he screamed out, ”Shénshèng de gǒu shǐ, yīgè jiàndié! Měiguó zhèngzài rùqīn!" He then took off at a dead run past her, leaving the mule to stare uncaring after him for a few moments before following at a sedate pace. Nicole stared after him, then shook her head, stood up, and looked around.

Down the road where the man had run, dense forest and rocky hills gave way to distantly visible open fields, she guessed probably all farmland. In the other direction, the road bent around the hill she had come down. Figuring whatever the man had shouted, it wasn't polite, she turned towards the bend and took off at a sprint. Not really out of alarm, just the feeling of speed after however long she had been thrashing through vegetation.

The sun went down soon after, but she kept running. After all, it was the fastest mode of transportation she had at the moment, and, except for the occasional tumbles over unseen stones, she was in zero danger of getting tired or lost. The road just kept going, weaving through the hills. When she finally burst around a corner and saw the first signs of civilisation, a bus station sitting on the intersection of her little dirt road and a paved one, dawn was beginning to colour the sky again. Feeling a bit weird for having run so long when she should've gotten tired, she sat down at the little bench and looked around. This new road ran along a river, and judging from where the sun was, north to south.

It felt like an instant before the rickety little bus pulled up, but the sun was high in the sky. It was a beaten thing, looking like it had probably been in service since before her dad had been born, and probably repaired so many times there were no original parts left. The door was made of wood, she noticed as it swung open with a creak. A kindly fat old woman smiled at her wide and chattered at her.

"Nǐ yào qù nánfāng ma? Wǒmen réngrán yǒu hěnduō xíwèi."

Nicky shook her head and said, "Sorry, I only speak English right now."

There was a thump and a rustle, and what sounded suspiciously like a chicken in distress. The driver looked back and said something so fast Nicky didn't even know what she heard, and another, younger voice responded. A head poked around the corner in a sweeping curtain of deep black hair, and a girl maybe two years older than her, with wide eyes and deeply tanned skin, grinned at her.

"I speak English! My name is Wang Shu. This is my Aunt Jiayang, it is her bus."

"I'm Nicole." She instantly regretted how impatient she sounded. "Sorry, it's been a long week."

"Week? You've..." There was another rapid-fire conversation, during which both women looked Nicky up and down several times. She was suddenly conscious of the dirt covering her, the mud spattered over her bare feet, and the tangled mess that was her hair.

"Quick, come come! We get you out of here." Wang Shu beckoned her onto the bus. She hesitated, then stepped up the creaking stair and into the dim interior of the bus. There was a couple sitting next to a stack of cages with chickens and ducks in them, and an old man at the bus that must've been over a hundred sitting next to a tiny young boy. Everyone was in country clothes, completely unwesternised. Wang Shu ushered her to a seat just behind the driver's, sitting next to her and slapping her aunt's shoulder twice. The bus took off with a shuddering jerk and a cough in the engine, then rumbled off down the road at what felt to Nicky as extremely unsafe speed in a vehicle that should've broken down a decade ago.

"We see several girls before, strangers, come out of the woods," her new guide explained. "There is a bad place further up in the mountains, somewhere, where kids get taken. Some say drugs, some say worse. Grandmother always say it witches."

"Huh? No, nothing like that with me. I just got lost. Kind of on purpose."

Wang looked at her a little oddly, giving her another up-and-down appraisal, eyes lingering on her bare feet and legs. "You don't even have scratches. You are good in woods?"

"Uhhhh...something like that." Nicky felt like she was probably blushing at this point.

"Oh. Well, this is not good place to get lost. Xié'è de nǚwū, criminal, animals, all up in these mountains. Monks too, but that is a hundred mile north."

Nicky forced herself to not let her jaw drop. A hundred fucking miles? How long was I running for? Outwardly, she asked, "So where are we headed?"

"Oh, this is monthly trip. We take people up and down road. First stop is Zhengzhou, then south to Hefei and Wuhan, Cross the Yangtze to Changsha, to Guangzhou, then west to Nanning, and final stop in Hong Kong. Then we come back a different way, further west. Next trip is along coast and then reverse this trip."

That is a lot of driving. Do you get a lot of business?"

"Enough so we get another bus next month! We can double our trips! We get advantage on big government lines. We care more, people see friendly face and want to ride. No faceless man driving, only Auntie."

"Well, I have some money. I dunno the exchange rate, though." She dub into her waistband, coming up with several folded bills. Flipping through them in front of Wang Shu without knowing how much she was flashing, she counted out several hundreds, a bunch of twenties, and a handful of all the smaller bills. "How much to get to Hong Kong?"

"In US money?" There was another rapid exchange. "Auntie says five dollars and we take you anywhere you want to go. It easy since we go there anyway. You save the rest of your money, get yourself clothes. How long you in China for?"

"That is a good question. As long as I want, I guess."

"You need papers, too. We get you those in Zhengzhou, my uncle's friend has a place to do it. Make you nice and official. In the mean time, we have long drive, I teach you some words."

Since the girl wasn't seeming willing to give her a chance to say no, she settled in for a lesson.

Several dozen miles behind her, on an isolated farm road, a farmer was excitedly pointing at a barefoot print the size of a small girl's pressed into the road a good six centimeters. The two policemen stared at the hole, trying to figure out what they were supposed to tell their superiors.

And in Beijing, and older man received an email from an old associate in America that made him grin like a child with a new puppy. His office was all steel and dark stone and glass. Behind his nearly empty glass desk, and flanked by two very serious men in shades and business suits, the corporate logo for his company, Gōngyè Zhěnghé was emblazoned in huge golden symbols. Cleverly hidden in the logo by subtle stroke differences was the arguably more important symbols for the Golden Dogs Triad.

Take down choppers, he says. She had nodded and taken off at once, but she knew the problems with “taking down” helicopters in the middle of a city. This wasn't a warzone, as much as it looked like one at the moment. People had to get back to their lives as quickly as possible. She was struck with the sudden thought that perhaps this was their tactic, a big, scary battle to prove how dangerous the heroes really were. Of course, that plan would be foolish, but if that had been their thoughts, she would do her best to prove them so utterly wrong as to be laughable.

To that end, she navigated the storm. A battle of some sorts of fog and mist was happening near where Chris had engaged with what looked to be some sort of leader. She knew he could handle himself as well as she and Icon could, even if he was more fragile inside his suit. The two girls...Jeeze, they look too young to be here, don't they? Was I ever that young and in a fight?. They looked slightly panicked, but doing well enough, and she hadn't the first idea how to work with their powers. However, that didn't mean she couldn't help while she dealt with other matters.

She flew low over their heads, leaving her trademark energy crackling in the air above them, blocking even the light of thunder from reaching under it as it drank the light around it. As she passed over their heads, she threw them a salute, and then fired off several small beams into the crowd of combatants near them. The whole area looked like chaos from above, men stumbling around and shaking their weapons in a thick fog that seemed to ignore the worst of the rain that was starting to pour from the sky. She pulled up suddenly as a chopper veered her direction. Below it were several of the enemy, clashing with unidentified allies at range. Noting the helicopters gun spin up, and knowing the line of fire left the two girls vulnerable, she flared her 'wings' as wide as possible, and threw up a simple wall of energy directly in front of the choppers, leaving enough so the pilot could see, but blocking any sort of projectile from making it further than a few metres.

The pilot reacted quicker than she would've originally credited, throwing his vehicle into a steep climb to halt forward momentum and get him over the wall. Unfortunately for him, that presented her with the belly of the thing. She put her fingers into the classic kids' “gun” shape, index finger out and thumb up, and took careful aim. One beam, just the size of her finger and only slightly above her lowest power setting, lanced out and blew the front of the machine-gun on the nose apart. Any more attempts to fire it would at best be useless, and at worst rend the front of the chopper into pieces as it backfired. Two more beams shot out, snapping off the side mounts for the missile pods, sending them down onto the men below. Without them being armed, she was only worried about their weight, but she had the rest of the helicopter to worry about.

As the pilot fought desperately to bring the machine back under control after the three impacts, he found his controls flashing even more alarms. Looking up, he finally noticed Leanna gripping the nose of the vehicle. The glass front was surprisingly well armoured and only cracked slightly as she dug her fingers, energy crackling around them to help her cut through the metal, into the plating. She could see him screaming something at his gunner, but it looked like neither of them could do anything. She heard the rotor mechanism twist and turn as he fought with the control stick, trying to move the thing and shake her off, but her titanic strength let her hold the nose in place in the air, her wing flapping to counterbalance any force the engine could muster.

With a sarcastic smile, she began guiding the whole machine through the air. The metal she had gripped creaked and groaned, and the engine screamed at the abuse as the pilot sought a solution, but inexorably it moved where she wanted it to. Finally the gunner slapped his pilot on the shoulder, and she frowned as he nodded back. There was a loud “clunk” from the belly of the thing, which prompted her to move below it by way of a lifting motion with her hands, refusing to let go of her grip.

She saw the shiny cone of the nose of a missile or bomb. It was huge, and looked like it might be a multi-stage explosive. It had come out of some sort of hidden weapons bay, and she noted that, sticking out like this, it was probably now armed. The rocket guides on it began firing, and Leanna let go, finally, muttering, ”You utter bastards,” before she had to catch the thing as it launched off of it's rails. In a desperate attempt to throw it further off course and make her job easier, she pushed the nose of the chopper away from her, sending it into a serious course error as the weapon caught her in the belly and took her away from her target.

She had pulled this maneuver before, but this close to buildings, there was little room for error. And with an unknown explosive, there was really only one choice she had. Recovering quick as she could, using her wings to slow the thing down with air resistance it wasn't built for, she swung underneath it, shoving as hard as she could. Her considerable strength sent it up, over the buildings in a huge arc. She went with it, steering against the guidance systems, and now that the warhead on the thing had travelled far enough to be armed, she nudged it further. It didn't have too much in the way of engines, though, so it was definitely a bomb, not a missile. One final shove up sent it careening out over the waters of the Atlantic. She counted the seconds, as the rain sizzled against her wings idly flapping to keep her aloft. She didn't have any sort of advanced vision, but a good knowledge of physics told her it should be going off just...about...

There was an explosion, not as big as she had dreaded. And then a second, third, and fourth explosion, each one deeper and bigger than the last. A fifth one, much much larger than the previous ones, sent a huge bubbling shockwave up to the surface.

Where the hell do they get this stuff from? Well, not the time. She spun back around and headed towards the edges of the fight. A group of soldiers were clustered around a truck, trying to unjam their weapons from whatever the fog had done to them, and looking a little nervous. No one seemed to be paying them any mind, even though the battle continued to rage. Glancing around and seeing no one approaching, and broken mechs laying around nearby that could explode soon, depending on what they were being powered by, she decided she needed to take care of both.

Streaking down for a landing with her arms over two of their shoulders, energy wings fading to avoid unintended injury, she spread her fingers out as wide as possible and scattered beams into the rest of them, slamming them back into the side of their vehicle. The two she had in headlocks drew knives and attempted to gut her and stab her, to no avail. Even if she hadn't been supernaturally tough, the suit she was wearing had been designed with this sort of action in mind, and it caught at the points of their knives and snarled their attacks without tearing. She placed a hand on the back of each's heads, and, before they had a chance to move, knelt and pivoted, thrusting them forward to fall onto their fallen friends, some of whom were just starting to get up. Smiling down at them, she placed both hands on the side of the truck and fired a weak beam from each palm. The vehicle was sent flipping side over side, coming to rest on its top, two large dents evident from even this opposite side. She then backed up a bit and brought up a dome over the whole pile of men, close enough to the ground that they wouldn't be able to stand, though not so close as to cause them injury from compression. And should they try to break it, long experience told her they would earn themselves only mild second degree burns before ceasing that activity. After a thought, she opened up small holes along the top, where they might get air, but not big enough to shove weapons through.

Leaving the crackling and hissing dome of black and rainbow sparks in the middle of the street, she turned to the broken down mechs. Glancing around, she spotted the man in black and yellow she had noted earlier. She paused to make sure none of the broken machines power supplies would overload, she hopped in the air. She had to look hard before she noted the chopper she had been wrestling with early, just now landing on a roof. Her wings flashed, leaving the telltale trail as she flew fast enough to just barely avoid breaking the sound barrier. Air pressure alone blew over the two men as the were climbing out of the now open cockpit. Grabbing one in each hand by the shirtfronts, she head butted each, then used a set of handcuffs from the small pouch on her suit to attach them to the wheel assembly. She pulled their handguns and knives, tossed them out of reach, then flew back to where she had seen the bruiser.

Stopping in front of him, wings flared to hold herself aloft, she said with a slight frown and knitting of her brows, ”Name's Blacklight. Who're you? And why did you kill that man earlier? You're no judge.”

There were streaks in the sky as beams struck Hounds who kept popping up, Sinclair could see them crawling out from behind buildings and although ready found that the mysterious lady providing air support had cleared enough of them to make his way safely. It was then a first aid kit flew towards Hound Dog as he caught it mostly with grace. ”Where’d you get the pick me up?”

”Something from Fletch for your shoulder!” Voyager said as she flew up to him, gesturing back at where the archer had been perched a moment ago. ”You should have seen Archie, he was so-

“-stupid piece of crap. Hello? Am I coming in?”

”Jordan!” Voyager replied delightedly to the voice from her earpiece. ”Good to hear from you again!

”I can hear too. Seems like every cape is here. You guys land safely at the airport? Things are hot out here, rubber’s melting on the pavement.”

“Don’t worry, we’re well out of harm’s way,” Jordan reassured the two heroes. “Took a while to calibrate it but I wanted to be sure they couldn’t trace your signal, so sorry about the delay.”
”Understandable. Just glad that you are still there to keep an eye on us Jordan.”

”Since the pipes are clean you guys got a safe base camp? There’s going to be a lot of injured, some good some bad more on the bad side. We got things under control, ain’t no chopshop out here.” Hound Dog said as he pulled out some ointment and began applying it to his wound. ”You good with a needle? Voyager, not you Jordan.”

“Yeah I was just going to say…”

”Um...I think I could use one. I am not familiar with doctoring, but it seems simple,” Riley said hesitantly.

“So what you’re essentially saying is that you’re an alien, not a doctor, riight?” Jordan quipped.

”Ayyyy.” Hound Dog said with his fingers pointing towards Voyager. ”You crazies. Right i’m your best patient for learning, don’t feel pain right now so I’ll give you a hand.”

”Hmm...alright,” Voyager said tentatively, extracting the needle from the kit, managing to handle the tool quite well with some helpful gestures from Hound Dog. Thankfully inserting the needle correctly the first time, she winced in anticipation as she used it, trying to gauge Hound Dog’s reaction to see if it worked.

Taking the time Hound Dog glanced to the right pointing. ”Not bad, but curve a few bolts round that corner, we got some beaters that need to be scrapped. Then loop the needle back round.”

”Right, right,” Voyager said carefully, carefully guiding with one hand as she blasted a few approaching soldiers off their feet with the other. Returning with her other hand, she drew the needle out as the procedure finished. ”I...think it has worked. It has worked, right?”

Examining the stitches Hound Dog wasn’t too impressed but considering it was her first attempt he was more than glad he was her first patient and hopefully the last. Still basic skills will come in handy later as he slipped his arm through the sleeve of his jacket. ”Needs work, they’re jacked up ya know. But get yourself a little practice, skills like that can be fat city in a pinch and there might not be anyone else round to patch you up. I got myself a ragdoll for such things.”

”Well, I am glad to learn something new!” Voyager said proudly, floating slightly as she prepared to resume fighting. ”Jordan, anything else big around here?”

“The Hounds I can see here seem to be thinning out a bit,” Jordan observed, “But A few of those mecha are still stomping around, you might want to focus on them before they cause any more damage.”

”That sounds simple enough. A giant robot should not be hard to find...” Almost on cue, there was a great roar of metal in motion as a pair of the Hounds massive fighting robots lumbered into view, spotting the two heroes and spooling up their weapons to engage.

”You know.” Hound Dog said as he let loose a crackling blast of lighting towards the machine. ”You’d be surprised how easy one can hide a giant robot.” Sprinting behind a car Sinclair continued his barrage on the incoming mechs. ”Knew a guy who build a giant robot once, put a car on top as a head. Hid the whole thing in his Mother’s garage.” Hound Dog touched the car he was hiding behind and began to charge it allowing him to push it away from him easier than he could otherwise.

”That is...interesting. I am not sure what is more impressive, building the giant robot with a car or hiding it, honestly,” Voyager commented, zipping between piles of rubble and debris to avoid the tracking fire from one of the mechs.

”Thing worked too, he had real chops on him sadly can’t say the same for his intelligence. Took the thing into space, and that was the last I heard from him, not surprised I warned him the thing wouldn’t be airtight. But he kept going on about how good of a chassis it was and all that jazz. Taller than most buildings and had serious firepower.” Pulling a disk out of his pocket he slammed the car into another vehicle and began charging to shoot it. Could use something like that right about now. But. Enjoy some music Voyager.” He said as the disk launched and the resulting impact not only damage parts of it’s armor but sent whomever inside it wheeling from the shockwave, allowing Hound Dog to close the gap, each fist charged up and ready to fire off.

”I will enjoy it, because I doubt that they will!” Voyager announced, exploiting the distraction of the disc impacting on the first mecha to fly into the air and right at the other unharmed mecha. Minigun fire danced towards her as the alien flew in close before landing on top of the robot, out of range of its weapons. Immediately the mecha jerked back and forth to shake her off, but Voyager managed to cling to the mounted weapon on the mecha’s side and hang on, using her PsiBeam to slice into the opposite arm. Focusing hard on her powers, Voyager released her beam just as her eyes began to burn, happily noticing the mecha’s arm hanging limply at its side before switching her grip to work on the other arm.

Looking upon the mechanical bot through his eyes was confusing, all manner of electronics blocked his view of the man inside but striking down and bringing a pair of thunderclaps devastating his knuckles and sending the mech to its knees. Standing before it hands his hands bleeding Sinclair readied himself to open up the cockpit and throw the pilot to the ground, however a glint of light from its eyes caused him to bolt in reverse as it brought it’s guns to bear. ”Ain’t right square, youse all should know when to stay stacked.”

”This is..much easier than fighting the Gargoyle!” Voyager said with a grunt as she wrenched off a shoulder mounted weapon with the help of a PsiBeam, tossing it aside like a hunk of firewood. ”No weird gem things that mess around with powers. Ah!” Nearly stumbling as the mecha lurched to the side in another effort to throw her off, she made her way to the top of the machine and a hatch that surely must have led to the inside. Blasting the lock mechanism to bits, she lifted up the door and peered inside triumphantly. ”Hi there! If you don’t mind I’d like for you t-YEAGH!” Voyager felt something burning hot streak past her face as the crew responded with gunfire, the sensation strong enough to knock her off and send her rolling across the edge and landing on the ground with a thud.

As Hound Dog retreated under fire he was ragdolled by the various explosions the machine launched from its weapons sending him into a bike rack. Picking himself together his hand seemed to be touching a chain of sorts, old and metal hanging off a beat up bike. ”Idea time.” Ripping the chain off he separated the rings with his powers mangling them which was fine. Old and metal meant he could use them and despite how beat up they were he held the rings in the palms of his hands as they crackled. Getting to his feet Hound Dog charged the mech taking cover as he hurled rings in all directions as they attached themselves to anything metallic including the mech itself. The mech stopped for a second as if to inspect what the meta was trying to do and simply realigned its guns onto Sinclar.

Seeing Voyager go down, Hound Dog began to hurry up his plan and simply tossed the other hand of rings he had into the air blasting them again for good measure. Doing the trick a ring flew to the one floating bringing with it a parking meter, as the ring gravitated towards the mech it kept picking up various bits of metal each ring Hound Dog tossed also bringing something and balling up the Hound pilots in the machine couldn’t simply ignore it. Hound Dog had retreated once again trying to find a way to it’s back as explosions rocked the area seemingly to try to knock the wrecking ball of scrap to the ground.

Voyager was only stunned for a couple of seconds before she saw a giant metal foot coming down on her, throwing up a PsiBarrier to protect herself. The force of the impact was strong enough to indent the barrier into the ground, yet Voyager was smiling at her situation despite the metal behemoth threatening to crush her.

”Not the first time...something tried to squish me,” she said with some strain in her voice. ”I have learned some...techniques...since then!” Drawing on her psionic energies, she forced up her PsiBarrier, blasting the mecha leg upwards and stumbling the whole machine right into the wall of a nearby building. Taking to the skies, she flew back towards the hatch and tore the door open again, her eyes glowing with psionic energy.

”Hey! Stop being mean and -OUCH!” Voyager winced as something metal conked her between the eyes and landed in her hand. Reflexively gripping the object, she refocused and saw it was a metal cylinder with a tab that she didn’t recognize. ”Uh, Hound Dog! What is this thing?” she called out, waving the cylinder at him.

”O..h. Shiit.” Cursing he threw a metallic ring directly at Voyager as it stuck to the grenade pulling itself violently out of her grasp into the ball that had begun to increasingly pick up speed chasing his own enemy. The Hounds in the machine had been trying and failing to outpace the mass of metal until it smashed directly into them piling them to the ground. Finally too heavy for the magnetism to move it began picking up more and more pieces until the grenade finally exploded, rocking the cockpit and sending shrapnel out and as it paused and caught itself in its own gravity well pulling each and every shard back onto the immobilized mech.

Momentarily stunned by the realization, Voyager turned back with an affronted look on her face, just as a sidearm was swung in her direction. Unfazed, Voyager grabbed onto the offending sidearm and lifted the pilot bodily out of his seat by his outstretched arm. Struggling slightly, he tried to reach for something on his belt. ”You should not throw things at people,” Voyager lectured the pilot without a hint of irony. ”Especially if those things explode.” Then with a flick of her wrist, she blasted the pilot into the wall the mecha was leaning against, letting the man bounce off and collapse face first onto the top of the giant robot.

Every time the mech lifted a finger, metal slid into the gaps, and every time it tried to fire missiles it would simply damage its hull and send shards deeper into the internal mechanics. ”I think this actually turned out better than I imagined.” Turning to Voyager. ”Doing okay, that wound deep or just superficial?” Pointing to his own face for reference.

”Wound? Oh, I guess that did hit me,” Voyager commented, seeing her hand come back stained with green blood after rubbing against the affected spot. ”Just a graze I think, it should heal quickly.” Voyager gave a sidelong glance at the co-pilot through the open hatch of the mecha, who saw the look on her face and slowly raised his hands in the air.

Hound Dog caught up to Voyager and joined her at the foot of the mech, the alien heroine holding the co-pilot by the scruff of the neck. ”Good to hear it’ll heal fine, but some guys dig scars you know, could be a plus for some. But wanna knock this guy out and take this for a spin?”

”Both sound enticing, do they not?”

“If it’s all the same to you two,” the co-pilot said meekly. “I’d just like to get to my jail cell now…”

”No one’s giving you an option here, but if I were, we’ll take you to jail, if and only if, you show us where you guys might be held up?”

The co-pilot shuffled uncomfortably as the two heroes stared him down.