As Abaddon floats up to and comes into sight from those atop of the building, she is greeted with a chunk of something hurtling toward her. She watches as the flying chunk of whatever hits her in the chest, not making any attempts to dodge it as she knows her reaction time isn't good enough for that. As it hits it leaves a large dent in her chest and chips of her body fly off as the spikes hit her, before it falls to the ground below. A loud noise catches her attention followed by multiple dull pangs as bullets chip her before ricocheting away, chipping the areas they hit.

She continues to float up till she is a foot above the roof of the building, watching a scene unfold in front of her. The one who threw the object at her attack the other, assuming by the others armour, that she was the one who had made the bone spear and seemed to be helping her. Time to return the favour she thought to herself, watching Celia almost grapple the other cape.

"Excuse me, Celcia?" She calls out in a loud booming voice, purposely misnaming her. "Running from your foe? Then trying to get rid of her by throwing things at her? Who do you think you are?" She asks the girl while contorting her hands and disjoined fingers, picking up two shards of the broken ally's armour.

"You really must learn some manners..." She says, hurling the two shards at the foes arms, trying to give the ally some room to move and recover.

As her hands reform, the fingers appear to be joined to her hand properly. A wide grin spreads across her face as she knows this means that she's growing stronger. A small pulse radiates from her as her master abilities grow stronger as well, to a bypassing civilian it would be like a wave of fear hit them.

"And to you my ally, I must warn you for your sakes, as much as you want to help if this fight draws out too long I may not be able to guarantee your safety around me. I mean you no harm, just a small side effect of my power, I would like to meet you after this fight, so you'd better stay on your toes." She says with a light-hearted tone, hoping that the cape would understand that she truly means them no harm.

The call from Sheila was an unexpected surprise. The message she was conveying was an unpleasant one. The HQ, for now, was off-limits; everybody to Spot B, and they’d reassess their options there.

‘Will do,’ Chad nodded, ending the call and quickly reminding himself where Spot B was... Spot B, Spot B, he knew it was an apartment... yeah, okay, he remembered what the building looked like. He’d head there once he was properly dressed.

Thankfully, that didn’t take too long, once he found a secluded area to get himself set up close to the HQ. A couple of minutes or so at most. And on he went, strolling along in full body-covering uniform as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and the criminal organisation he was part of wasn’t under attack by another criminal organisation. Fucking Community. If he had his hands on them, he could do so much to them, melt their bones, rip their flesh off their bodies, squeeze their hearts until they popped like pimples-

Huh. Turned out fantasising about killing people got you places pretty quickly. This was the apartment building. He just needed to get to the apartment proper, and that of course meant heading in. So he did.

---

The other wards were encountering Protean, she noted, her Tulpa under the floor, slightly transposed with their target. Receiving intel through the comms and cameras via Decoy, she watched as Protean prepared something.

"I don't fucking think so," she snarled before activating comms.

"I'll deal with whatever he's planning to throw at you. Prepare a counterattack." That said, she finished formulating her projection.

Intent:
Swift/durable brawler. Small form capable of increasing in size and altering shape.

Traits:
Rubber-Flesh-Water(Malleable Outer Surfaces)+Lead(Dense), Steel-Flesh(Spring/Strength), Steel-Rubber(Sturdy Structure), Electricity(Energized), Air-Cloth(Light)| Lead(Heavy).

Powerset:
Baseline high physical resistance and strength. Enhanced reaction. Cellular modulation. Limit: Static physical composition; Static mass. Personal. Low end sonic projection. Limit: Non-damaging.

~~Alternate form. Size scaling. Size increase--error, incompatibility--temporary mass loss. Energy venting entanglement integration. Storage Method: Physical Integration. Reactive Venting Trigger: Uncontrollable. Trigger: Overload.

She locked things in, the silhouette—still in the floor—of her tulpa in the form of a six-limbed creature with deceptivly thin limbs, but a wide torso

"Stay standing..." was all she got before she made her decision.

Manifest.

At the speed of thought her projection's shadow rose from the ground between Protean and her team...and manifested. Immediately there was feedback. With the intention built in for it to protect and assist her teammates in taking out the target, the tulpa lunged towards Protean. It was wide of chest and hips, with four arms and two strange constructions that could be called legs. The arms were thin, Messiah could have wrapped her fingers around one with thumb and pointer finger comfortably touching. Its back had tiny inch long needles all over it and at the end of its arms were vicious looking claws. Its 'legs' were more like coils of muscle or vines if those muscles were...loose. Rather than claws, the legs terminated in splaying tendrils, each which ended in a sharp needle-like protrusion. It had no neck and its head was more like a nub, with no visible eyes or sensory organs. Its 'face' had colored patterns in red and silver on it, while its body was almost entirely steel grey, with winding, swirling markings. From the base of its spine extended something like a tail with the same composition as its 'legs', but much tighter wound.

In the midst of its charge, Protean struck. The end of its 'tail' splayed out as it began to be pushed back towards the Wards. The tail hit the ground and the needles extended into that ground. Suddenly it was anchored. The strike hit it square in the chest and immediately energy erupted off of its body into a three inch-field that crackled like electricity—the smell of ozone immediately apparent. Its form seemed less dense in the aftermath.

With no mouth or orifice to do so, it roared, then sprung back into action, moving towards Protean, seemingly unbothered by the mass it had lost or the veritable storm of crackling energy around it. Reaching with one of its right arms, it attempted to grab Protean's mantis shrimp limb. If the energy made contact it would burn and numb.

Meanwhile, Evelyn herself had taken up a position on the side of a hallway, back to the wall. She was sitting down with her eyes closed, counting in her head and managing her projection and the various intel it was feeding her.

"Don't let the field of energy around my projection touch you. Except you Messiah, your power will absorb it. I have the projection set to assist and protect you guys. I'll be keeping track of the timer on it and managing its actions."

---

---

Arriving at Sylph's location, he noticed that she was on the ground. Landing, he swapped back into his human form once he'd made sure no one was nearby. He pulled out a white mask and put it on before addressing her. He was in civilian clothes otherwise, clearly not having had time to change due to the urgency of the situation.

"Sylph, are you o--" he stopped mid sentence as he saw what had been a child. He almost threw up, but grit his teeth and swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing and fists clenching. Rage flashed across his features and he put his hand on Sylph's shoulder.

"You have to get up. There's nothing you could have done, but there is something we can do together. If we take him out...we can stop others from sharing a similar fate." He paused, breathing deep, his gaze locked on the horrible sight of the little girl's ruined form. He wouldn't let himself shy away just because it was bad, he wouldn't look away just because it made him want to retch.

He would recognize what had happened while he hadn't been able to do anything. He would do better. "If you don't come with me, I'll have to do it myself. Chances are that will mean a lot of collateral property damage, but I'm willing to go that far to stop this bastard." That said, he stood up fully, pulling away, before he walked a distance and then shifted forms.

A flash of nausea, overpowered by a second rush of rage and he was in his Second Vessel again. The rumbling hollow voice of his form echoed out.

"Either way, I'm going to make sure Eyeblight pays for what he's done." He burst into movement, accelerating all at once as he flew, only several feet from the ground, towards the coffee shop.

As he reached it a pulse pushed out, weak, just enough to shatter the glass of the storefront. His senses told him how many people, their positions, and who was severely injured or otherwise. It also showed him Eyeblight's exact location. Without entering, for he was too big to do so and effectively fight, he turned his head and torso away from the coffee shop. Tentacles easily slid through the gaps the broken store front windows created, snaking at incredibly high speed directly for Eyeblight from several angles. He extended other limbs through the store as he spoke, "Everyone close your eyes, don't panic, I'm getting you out of there."

Those tentacles not attacking, deftly scooped up civilians and pulled them from the store, prioritizing those who weren't already prone on the floor. Those who were injured were likely already beyond his ability to save. Moving them might just worsen their condition. The goal was to get everyone out of the way so he could truly focus on taking down Eyeblight.

Sofia opened her eyes to see that piles of dust had replaced the people that had been around. Sofia followed Chatterhead's instructions and touched the floor, activating her power to make him vanish through the floor. However, after a momentary pause when Sofia looked up she saw the green man leering at her as he stepped close to her, bringing out what appeared to be a lightsaber. Normally Sofia wouldn't be scared. But the way he had talked about her power made it sound like he knew how it worked, plus she couldn't make him fall through the floor. And if he was approaching her anyway, that meant her power wouldn't protect her. That left just about one option. "Let's run!" Sofia said, turning around and doing just that, tugging insistently at Chatterhead's hand, not so scared as to leave her charge behind.

Mire continued bounding across rooftops towards the Rockers HQ completely unaware of the call she was supposed to have received, in her haste to get involved in a fight she'd left her bag (which had her phone in it.) back in the alleyway with Visage. Mire couldn't help but feel excited as she saw the HQ building off in the distance, things were looking bad, and Mire was going to make them worse. Mire Leaped from the rooftops, shifting her density mid air becoming more gaseous so that her impact on the ground wouldn't slow her down. Reforming into a human shape Mire looked around taking in the situation while slowly walking towards the HQ, the building was falling apart. Mire would spot two people at the receptionists desk, one of them was obviously some kind of cape judging by the rubble deflecting off the air around them. Perhaps they were the one taking down the building, though the sounds of crashing and smashing from further inside indicated otherwise Mire didn't care. Theses guys were already here and she was itching to fight, and she'd rarely fought other capes so this conflict was going to be interesting.

Mire's mist quickly started spreading outward and her arms formed into curved blades that were long enough to drag along the ground. Mire broke into a sprint, her bladed arms scraping against the pavement as she headed straight for Swarm and Firefly.

---

Silvia's eyes widened in horror as she saw the mangled mess of what used to be a child, tears instantly started running down her cheeks as she took in the grizzly sight. The blood, the bones poking through the skin. Silvia fell to her knees and started silently crying, I... I didn't save her I-I'm... Silvia put her face into her hands. Silvia started shaking If I hadn't hesitated, d-din't cover my eyes... I would have seen her... I could have saved her, but I didn't. I'm a useless piece of waste. Here I am with bullet proof skin and the power to make tornadoes, and I hesitate and got people killed. I should be dead not them... Silvia was slowly shaking her head when she felt a hand on her shoulder and flinched. It was Outsider, thank goodness someone useful was finally here.

She looked up at him as he spoke, she wished she could agree with him about there being nothing she could have done but it just wasn't true. Though Outsider was right about Eyeblight needing to be stopped before he could cause more damage, Silvia stood up slowly still very clearly shaken from the dead body. Silvia watched Outsider fly off down the road, there was a hero, no fear and the drive to protect those in danger over himself. Silvia curled one of her shaking hands into a fist and started off after Outsider, she couldn't waste time feeling terrible now, that would only lead to more deaths. Silvia ran as fast as she could to the Cafe skidding to a halt next to one of Outsiders tentacles, she looked through one of the shattered window. There Eyeblight was, his hideous form sending a wave of fear over Silvia, her wings quivered as she felt her resolve rapidly degrading. I-I can't do this! Silvia went to cover her eyes but stopped, she couldn't do that again, last time people died because she looked away. She just needed to get Eyeblight's attention, Silvia built up a wind blast in her mouth and fired it off at Eyeblight, the blast would be pitifully weak because of SIlvia's lack of focus but it would still fell like a stern shove if it were to hit Eyeblight.

Hm. Go figure he’d still be immune to the others’ attacks, if his own couldn’t find their mark in any way.

...more disconcertingly, a lot of civilians just died gruesomely, in a very short amount of time. He wasn’t exactly unclear on the rules of engagement in war: avoid civilian casualties. His own path to where he now stood wasn’t exactly one that followed the unspoken rules, but he didn’t mindlessly eliminate everyone who posed even a minor threat to him. Though, were they civilians, having stood against the Doctor, even if it wasn’t of their own will?

...Raymond hated moral quandaries. More pertinent, more of a technical problem to wrap one’s head around, was the situation at hand: could he help from here, somehow? Something that could be done to negate the issue in question? Negate... cancelling out... maybe that’d work, since it seemed the villain would be more than capable of wounding Sofia in her phased state? If he could convince everybody to follow along, that was, simple as the plan was.

‘Stop running,’ he muttered through the commlink, keeping his eye on the situation without scoping in for now. ‘Whimsy, see if you can grab on to him directly, or else help somebody else to hit him. Alloy, try to destroy his gadgets, but don’t waste your charge. Chatterbox, keep trying to persuade him to deactivate his phasing. Thunderbolt, if you get a chance, beat him down.’ And as for himself, he’d keep waiting for his moment to take the shot. It wasn’t like he could do anything else for now.

---

Jason frowned beneath his helmet, keeping himself slightly superimposed over the villain while he stayed at the ready. Like this he couldn't really do anything, and the senseless murder around him just made him burn with a cold rage.

And when the villain announced that he wanted to fuck with Whimsy? No.

He moved so that he was always between this kid and his ally without directly getting in the way of his partners as best as he could. If he had to he could grab both her and Chatterbox and get them to safety or pounce onto the villain order to take him out of the fight.

---

---

Lillian stopped suddenly, her eyes flitting up towards the direction Protean was about to —

There he was. She couldn't help herself as a shudder ran through her. Not one of fear, though she was afraid, but one of anticipation. She felt a very primal desire to bash in his dumb face, stepping forward one step before she realized what she was doing. Her fists clenched either as she felt the itch to transform.

Need to get him outside, she reminded herself. They'd cause less problems structurally if they went outside.

And he caught on in mere moments, which was all she needed to dive into action herself. She couldn't transform, not yet, because it would slow her down. As he charged, she tensed before the projection appeared and intercepted.

"Acknowledged," she replied to Tulpa, motioning for the others to follow as she dashed towards the exit. Outside she could go to her biggest...

---

Mouth briefly agape as numerous members of his fanbase simply...vanished, Chatterbox was left reeling...that was until Whimsy pulled him into motionn. For a moment he followed, unthinking, and then his mind connected the events that had transpired and his focus narrowed. An angry snarl left his lips, a similarly unpleasant expression overtaking his features as he shot off rapidfire tap-commands and small vocal cues into comms with his thralls. He shifted the organization and had them focus on rescue, first-aid, and evacuation. They were to secure the place, with only a few of his empowered remaining in his concourse so he could use them when his power would have real impact.

Speaking of impact, he steered Whimsy, taking the lead, and guiding her in Alloy's direction even as he spoke through comms, loud enough only for them to hear. "Whimsy, we need to touch Alloy and see if her power can take out the rest of the bastard's machinery. It's one of our few chances to deal with him. Thunderbolt, get a bit of distance between you and the Doctor. I don't want any collateral, especially on our end." There was a vicious edge to his words, like he really, truly wanted the man to not just be defeated...but to suffer.

No one took his fans from him, his adoring, endearing followers were innocent and while he would put them in harms way, his intention was never for their lives to end. They weren't useful that way and they could not be with him that way. What the doctor had done was disgusting, beyond even what he would be willing to do for power or amusement or recognition. For that, he would pay. When they captured the bastard and the Broker took his powers, he would brainwash the disgusting freak, find out his weaknesses, that which he cared for most...and then he would give the man awareness of his own actions...so that the 'Good Doctor' could destroy all that he cared about without any control over his own actions.

At the thought of the misery the insect of a man would experience, a cruel smile touched his lips. That was how this had to end. The Doctor had made this personal...so he'd have to respond in kind.

Swarm released the arrows blocked by his influence. Then he reached into his pack and donned his mask. There was no hiding it now. He spoke to Firefly, "Be ready for anything."

Suddenly Swarm heard a screeching noise. He turned to see the grinding of blades against concrete. Mist was enveloping the area rapidly. He instinctively pushed back against the mist with force. At the same time he opened his pouch containing tungsten steel balls. He grabbed a handful and threw them. His telekinesis amplified their speed into bullet-like velocities. The objects flew in a shotgun like pattern at the girl's main body form.

Mastar felt her body get flung back by the force of Protean's punch, her legs failing to keep her on the ground as she actually picked up a bit of air time. As her body reconnected with the floor, however, it quickly became more elastic as Mastar liquefied herself, forming back into the familiar body when there was a safe chance to do so. This guy was a pretty tough customer, that was sure. One of those punches could easily spell total disaster for her. She felt the heat, no doubt if a punch connected she'd catch on fire.

At least until Tulpa's projection managed to pull out something to get the nasty blasts out of the picture, Mastar stood back up and dusted herself off in her standard fashion. She was thinking about what she could do. Lobbing shots wasn't much of an option, considering that he could probably easily dodge around the shots... wait a tick, maybe it was a good idea to lob some shots. Maybe she could turn the tide of the battle into the Ward's favor and render the thing she was afraid of useless...

"Here's hoping, lovelies. Cover me!" Mastar smiled and prepared some shots in her hand, Just in case shit hit the fan, she was prepared to turn around. She took a deep breath, and darted forward, chucking two blobs of her sticky and flammable tar at Protean, but not at his mouth. She was aiming for something that was a bit more problematic for the ex-hero, and with her practice as a vigilante, she was confident in her aim.

His claws.

If he tried to punch with tarry claws, he'd set himself on fire, not to mention have a harder time actually winding up for the punch. The biggest risk here was that Mastar was getting a little close, but with the projection defending her as best as it could to Mastar being ready to flee from a blast, she wasn't too terribly worried.

Too, terribly worried. She was still absolutely fucking scared.

The brute’s punch pushed Metanoia back, her other arm reaching out for Metanoia’s sword simultaneously. Metanoia had grown slightly faster though, her strength and speed increasing by the second and her broken shield now weighing her down less. Instead of trying to move the sword out of reach, Metanoia moved it just enough so that the brute snapped the blade further away from the base of the sword, leaving behind a few inches of thicker bone.

She whips the other undamaged sword on her right hand toward the villain, then immediately retreats to buy herself time to grow further as she hears the angelic cape begin speaking. As she waits for the brute to make the next move, she simply raises her unbroken sword in acknowledgement of the angelic cape, having already learned her lesson about looking at the porcelain angel. Metanoia instead just focuses on staring at the villain in front of her, ready to dodge or move as needed.

Simultaneously, Metanoia will shift a bit of mass toward regrowing the thinner part of the broken blade while continuing to pack more muscle into her frame and thicken and repair her armor.

Could things have gone better with Collin? Probably. Could they have gone much, much worse? Oh yes.

Was Protean’s immediate realisation of how things had transpired verging toward a worst-case scenario? Very probably. And... well, he was powerful. She’d never realised just how powerful before now, though - he could move faster than she could see, obliterate any of them with the kinetic energy alone, and even if he couldn’t necessarily dodge light, she had to lock on to him in the first place, and that would be... difficult. At best.

Thankfully, they had their best weapon around in the form of Tulpa’s projection. And what a projection it was! It’d even recharge Alessa’s own power, if she touched its energy field, so it was hardly like she was going to run low on juice. On the other hand, if it had to demanifest, there went Evelyn’s support for the next several minutes.

Tiger Lily and Mastar acted in their own ways - Lily heading toward the exit, Alessa imagined to maximise the size she could reach, and Mastar preparing to hurl pieces of herself at Protean, complete with the request to cover her. Cover, cover- yes, that might do. Without hesitation, a ray of energy burst from Alessa’s face, directly toward Protean’s eyes. White, ultraviolet, raw heat - and much stronger than she’d usually implement. All in an effort to burn out the mole’s eyes, and his nose too at that. It wouldn’t be permanent by any means. Just long enough for everyone else’s plans to take root.

Pavement sounded rhythmically under Visage's feet, the gentle gait barely heard over the sounds of a city just waking up. A soft humming emitted from her pocket, the vibration carrying up her leg. Taking out her phone, she saw the number, and declined the call. Smiling slightly under her mask, she took the time to unspool her headphones and slip them into her ears, tucking her hair in front the cord. It was still visible, the black cord peeking out near her mid region, and ending in the pocket she slid her upside down flip phone into. The music had already started, high pitched slightly electronic humming mixed with an acoustic guitar sung in Visage's ears. "The moth don't care when he sees the flame" she mouthed along, watching each person she passed carefully.

The second they made eye contact, her power brought an uninteresting form to their mind. A dark haired Asian girl, who was reading as she walked, tentatively glancing up occasionally. Their suspicioun abated, and their dissonance at zero, they would look away uninterested. That, and Visage would gain another node. More to sort through, but worth keeping the neighborhood off alert until she got to her location. "And nothing fuels a good flirtation

Like meat, and anger, and desperation." She sung, her beautiful blue eyes watching as she came within a block of their newer HQ.

The Margrave knew a call to action when he heard one, and along with the other Wards hastened away from the betrayer's bedside. On the way the team encountered Protean, to whom the Margrave -in his distraction- paid little attention to until his presence caused the group he flowed along with to grind to a halt. Bewildered, he caught the tail end of what the Cape told them before taking a blast of force that sent him flying. Another traitor!? he concluded, disbelieving, after smacking against the floor. Unlike Collin, this could prove troublesome. Protean was renowned for his adaptability, able to change himself to accommodate and then master any situation. Even so, however, the Margrave felt no urge to sacrifice his pride and flee as he stood up. Neither did the others seem to. Today, it would appear, they'd be taking down a local legend.

Protean could attack in many forms, but could he attack on many fronts? Resolving to see how thin the team could spread him out, the Margrave prepared himself. He was not afraid. Well, he was afraid of pain, but not of the ultimate consequences. Either justice prevailed or his misery came to an end. Tulpa spawned a new, intriguing manifestation to buy her team time to get ready and hopefully wear Protean down, which suited the Margrave well enough. Tigerlily sought an exit, no doubt to take the fight elsewhere and make space for her ability, but her hug-victim new that a solution to that issue would not be forthcoming. “The vagrant won't cede to us a battlefield where we have any advantage,” he said in a low voice as he pulled a toy from his pocket. “We must pressure him here. If you retreat, do so to come at him from another angle.” With a pop, the piece of plastic in his hand turned into a MAC-10 submachine gun.

Ready to rumble, he rushed to separate himself from the Wards as far as the interior would allow, trying to put a light between him that neither the projection nor Mastar would cross. Once satisfied, he let of bursts of automatic fire. Unless Protean possessed up-to-date knowledge of the Margrave's arsenal, he might not be aware that the bullets headed his way were rubber and put more effort into defending himself from them than he should. If not, or if he took enough of them to put two and two together, he might write off the Margrave as a non-threat—a mistake made far too often around here. They could still distract him, and if he made no attempt to defend himself, put out an eye if the Wards were lucky. Combined with Messiah's own attacks, his efforts would surely bear some fruit.

---

"...Roger that, Headhunter, Chatterbox," Alloy said quietly over the comms whre only the Jacks could hear, before beginning to sprint towards Chatterbox and Whimsy as fast as she could, her face wearing a rather grim and somewhat wrathful look, "Losing armor on my back though for this so far. But this bastard won't get his hands on Whimsy, or the rest of the civilians..."

The metal-skinned girl had cut off using her charge as soon as it seemed ineffective, though she could feel a lessening of the metal skin on her back. Death was a fact of life, a thing she had seen amidst her work and heard about and...witnessed firsthand when she gained her powers. But to see someone mow down civilians, even if manipulated ones, like mere fodder was crossing a line for her. This asshole, no more like "Dr. Doomed" was going to get what he had coming. She could handle Chatter doing some manipulation, he didn't go and just murder them, but this was a while nother' level. And to wanting to turn one of the group into a guinea pig for study? That too was unacceptable.

This guy, he'd have his balls roasted off before she was done. If he had any left by the time they got their hands on him.

Of course, as much as she was pissed, she held it back as best she could. This was no time to go on a hulking rage, and ruin plans.

---

---

There was a stairwell not too far from here...that she knew for a surety. A more secure route than an elevator would perhaps be, if these twats had any measure of tactical sense about them amidst this revenge plot. Sure, it was a run in the opposite direction than she had just initially come out of her classroom, but she at least had a barrier, and the little wall indentations near classroom doors for at least "adequate" cover. The brown haired girl git her teeth a little she had thought about these things.

But something was wrong, the moment that PA system finally went quiet....as silent as the grave perhaps. It sent a chill down her spine, her instincts screaming "GET OUT OF THERE" to her body. After all, she had just...she had just laid into the Community's leader like he was the little bitch he was, hadn't she? Fact #1 they had learned in class, the Community was a very attached group. So the moment the gunfire stopped for a moment, Allison's body moved without thinking as survival instinct took over briefly. Legs pumping, heart thumping in her ears, the blade barrier making an excellent backboard for a running start.

She ran, ran as fast as her legs would push her. Yet as she ran the bounce of an object seemed to ring in her ears as well, registering as loud as dropping a pin on the floor of a silent room could seem. Considering there were guns, and these guys were crazy bastards, she didn't even think about what it could be. A damn grenade, some tinker construct, Patriarch's shriveled liver, didn't matter since she would need to put distance between her and it regardless...at least according to her gut and her brain in unison.

The college girl took a dive towards the nearest corner that turned down the hall, trying to just put distance and...well, she supposed make her way towards the other stairwell at this point. Maybe. At the moment, the desire to "not die" was stronger. Much stronger in this moment.

---

Creep frowned when she was told the Community was attacking everywhere. A joined attack on all teams? They were making their move? … Very well.

‘In that case. We Rockers may be able to retreat from our current predicament and help where we’re needed. Let me get back on you on that, after we’re done abandoning our HQ. I’ll call again, keep me posted if anyone so desires.’ That was all she had to say before she tried to call her allies. Out of those, only Salem replied. Nothing from Mire, could be she just wasn’t in a state to answer her phone, nor Pester, who should have been there, and Visage straight-up declined her. Though frowning, she could understand if she had gotten into a tough situation. That said, this meant only Salem would be arriving at Point B. That was useless.

In fact, here Salem came running. Good to know somebody was dependable around here.

@BCTheEntity

Before Salem could enter the building, Creep showed herself to him alone and waved him over. Assuming he didn’t enter the building anyway, she’d start talking to him while they were in view of the HQ, except Creep was hiding them both.

‘The Community is attacking all our allies. This city is now a battlefield. Some parahuman archer is attacking within our HQ, probably with one more person. I’ve seen mostly everyone evacuate, but I haven’t seen Pester, and-’ and this is about the time Mire dropped down and started advancing at the main building. Creep made an unhappy noise looking at that, but okay, guess they were attacking.

‘- c’mon, we’re assisting Mire. I’ll cover the both of us, they won’t see us. Stay as close as you can. If you find the archer, melt his arrows,’ she told Salem, grabbing his arm and pulling on him as she headed forth towards the ensuing battle while doing her best to cover the both of them, running ahead to make that easier. She was startled seeing Mire being attacked by someone, she had to get in closer and see what was going on.

Of course, she was internally preparing for that their enemy could see her. Her eyes were looking in all directions, perfectly focused, and she was ready to jump to dodge at any time.

And just like that the biggest battle, or at least the most important battle, of the Wards' young careers began. None of the teens were willing to back down to Protean's request that he be left alone to leave in peace, each one taking immediate action against the former trainer, former senior, former friend. Even though it was five on one the fight was sure to be highly taxing, as evidenced by Protean's initial demonstration. How could you fight someone who could conceivably do anything at any moment? Remotely, that was Tulpa's strategy as she manifested her projection from a suitably safe distance. The alien-like creature took a form suitable for direct confrontation, opting to absorb Protean's initial punch head on and anchoring itself to the floor. The claw had already retracted a safe distance before the projection's static field erupted outward, truly an incomprehensible speed.

The tulpa launched a counter attack, whilst Tiger Lily opted to run by Protean to reach the lobby, Mastar decided to hurl globs of tar at Protean's claws, and Messiah took a more support role than she usually stuck to, by emitting a bright blinding light. By the same merit as Tulpa, Margrave took to a "fight from further back" approach, unleashing a barrage of public brand safe rubber ammunition. He, and the rest of the Wards, were about to learn that lethal force would be necessary to have even a hope of incapacitating a high ranking brute like Protean.

"Predictable," the enemy quipped as he reacted to the five way assault. While his eyes certainly shut, incapable of operating under the conditions set by Messiah, he seemed to have zero trouble continuing to sense his opponents and operate efficiently. Perhaps it was those antennae he had sprouted, or some other animal organs that provided extra senses that were not so easily visible. The globs of tar wound up missing completely as he maneuvered himself into a new battle position, the black sticky stuff plastering onto the walls and floor around him. His claws opened up, revealing some strange orifice in the center: one pointed at the tulpa and one at the doorway Tiger Lily was trying to escape through. Spider silk shot out from both openings like a fire hose, blocking off the doorway with thick sticky webbing while the projection suddenly found itself entangled. The silk smoked a bit, heating up from the energy field, but otherwise acted as a strong insulator, and an efficient capturing tool. Meanwhile, the Margrave's rubber bullets bounced harmlessly off Protean's skin, leaving nary a mark.

"I taught you kids better than that," he continued, his left claw morphing before their eyes. Elongating, thinning out, stretching out toward Tiger Lily. It solidified into a king cobra, complete with eyes, tongue, and fangs, darting through the air directly for the young Ward."Appropriate force, Wards. These tactics work on lesser paras. I'm made of tougher stuff!!" Just then a number of sharp, pointed quills grew out from his main body, which fired outward with impressive force in nearly every direction. Tiger Lily was safe, probably because he did not want to risk hitting his own cobra arm, as was Margrave and Tulpa due to their distance, but the rest of the Wards as well as Tulpa's creation could not say the same.

---

---

"Now now, just what is it that you hope to accomplish?" the green clad tinker chided Thunderbolt, pausing his menacing advance for but a moment. "It is not as though you are impeding me in any manner. If your goal is to annoy me, then you have vastly overestimated your importance to my life."

Regardless of Thunderbolt's actual intentions, forcing Dr. Dean to stop for that lecture did buy his comrades a few precious seconds with which to reorganize themselves, mostly in having Alloy reconnect with Whimsy and Chatterbox. If this tinker could somehow still affect Whimsy despite the use of her power, then it stood to reason that the reverse would be equally true, at least that's the thought process that they had of the situation. It was more an act of desperation, but in all reality what other options did they have? Alloy made contact with the youngest member of the crew and thus fell under the influence of Whimsy power to "ignore" things. Then the lightning flew.

"What's this?" the maniac tilted his head at the display, his reaction time overall quite slow. The analysis of his helmet fed him information that was crucial, but he remained too slow to act upon it. If he had one weakness above all others (setting aside his pride), it seemed to be that he was not used to having to fight, and thus his reaction time left much to be desired. Only a single finger extended out toward a button on his suit by the time the lightning phased straight through Thunderbolt, and surged directly into Dean. "AAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!"

The force of the convulsions threw the man tinker back, a good several feet away from Thunderbolt. He lay in a pile of upending chairs, smoke rising up from his green cloak, which had caught aflame. No longer was he translucent, but a solid tangible mass. The tactic had worked perfectly, and Headhunter could even target him now.

"Ugh," he grunted, standing up as he discarded his green cloak and hood. What remained was unmistakably a suit of power armor, slimmer than most others built by combat tinkers, but no less a technological marvel. "I have underestimated you. Impressive." The tinker pressed a button on his belt, the same one that he had gone for before, when suddenly he completely vanished from sight. Was this some form of invisibility or cloaking? No, if it were then Headhunter would still be able to target him, but only received static at the moment. But that left another concern, a more immediately pressing one. In Dr. Dean's place was a small green orb with a red LED, which was flashing faster and faster. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep.

Curtains drawn, Director Roger Kens sat in his office, alone, staring at a computer screen in the dark. Though it was still early in the morning and the sun gave way to a beautiful light in the east, he would rather enjoy the darkness. Hell, if he could get rid of the light from his computer monitor he would. He didn’t like seeing the smoke rising up from his cigarettes. Just one additional reminder that he was slowly killing himself. Both in habit, and in this job he had coveted so much those years ago. When he heard it was Denver he’d be taking over for as director, he wasn’t as excited as he once was. The city was big yes, a metropolitan area to be sure, but largely quiet as far as cape society went. Most of the Protectorate stationed here were mid-tier, while the same could be said of the rest of community, heroes and villains alike. Well, except for Furnace. But setting aside that guy, Denver lacked a lot of star power, a lot of heavy hitters, a lot of legends like, well, Legend. Kens wanted to be director, but not for a cushy desk job in a largely quiet city. And not for the press or the recognition either. He wanted to instill change. Real, important, lasting change. To have a voice in ending the Wards program. No more government sanctioned child soldiers. To put the screws to villains. A more heavy handed approach to justice. Of course, once he actually took the seat, not only did he find himself in a quiet, cushy little position, but he found out how little influence a director actually had. When faced with the court of public opinion, the Youth Guard, his peers and the rest of the political bootlickers, there wasn’t actually a lot he could do.

Then things changed, and not for the better.

It seemed like only a year after he took office as the director of the Denver branch, the parahuman community began to change climates. First all the gangs disappeared in what seemed like a blessing to the public, but was actually a blight in disguise. They gave way to the rise of the Community. But he couldn’t take a hardline stance against them, oh no. If all the criminal activity in the city was united then the damage they could cause, lasting large scale white collar crime, went totally excused in the public’s eyes. As long as people weren’t shooting one another in the streets, that meant the Community could only be a good thing, right? So Kens resented being able to mobilize his men against them before it was too late.

Then the scale of parahumans started going up. No longer did Denver have one heavy hitter with a bunch of mid-tiers. Suddenly the parahuman population exploded with crazies. It was all too much to handle in one go. That Sonika woman, some underworld ghost known as Macavity, Some giant monster calling itself Outsider, he almost started an Endbringer panic. The mafia even moved back in and recruited that gas freak, Exhale. Not that they all caused problems. After all, Slyph was proving to be a powerful, if inexperienced, new Protectorate member. Plus Tulpa had all the raw power and versatility of Eidolon himself, in Kens’ own personal opinion. But then there were the biggest concerns, the Jacks. Them and…

Kens looked over at the letter that Margrave had provided him, a note left behind by the city catburglar, Sabotage. A mysterious underground kingpin. The city’s lack of skilled thinkers meant that he had to outsource a lot of the investigation to other cities (another detail that didn’t sit so well with him) and that of course meant having to wait behind red tape. They didn’t consider this Patriarch or this Chatterbox to be big enough to warrant an emergency expedited thinker focus, nor did they put much stock in the letter left behind by a known cat burglar. Kens, obviously, disagreed. That’s why when his email lit up, so did he. Quickly he clicked on the icon, loading the letter up to read. As his eyes scrolled across the text, the grew bigger and bigger. This situation was so much worse than he imagined it could be.

Patriarch: Verified master, 85% probability striker. In accordance with details provided as well as information taken in from recent posts on Parahumans Online, three thinkers have verified beyond question this parahuman possesses the ability to rewrite neural connections in the brain, with some unknown limitation. Appears to be focused on recognition of authority.

Chatterbox: Potential S class threat, further inquiry needed to verify. Verified master, 62% probability of trump. Appears to create nuanced control of sentient creatures via vocal inflection. In laymans terms, he utilizes a hypnotic voice. Trump aspect appears to proliferate the effect among those already affected.

Unknown Subject: No details to provide.Fifteen thinkers attempted to pull information from the letter provided, zero were successful. 99% probability Unsub does not exist.

Director Kens picked up the line directly to Decoy in order to disseminate this information amongst the entire PRT and Protectorate staff, but before the phone made its connection he received a direct holographic notice from Decoy herself, appearing as her normal image since the communication was private.

”Director Kens-sama, emergency alert! The Community has launched a full scale war across the entire city of Denver!”

Kens reeled back. ”You’re shitting me!”

”I assure you this is no jest. Reports are coming in from all across the city, including the airport, downtown, uptown, universities, and more. I have already put out the emergency mobilization order under the assumption you wouldn’t mind.”

”Of course, of course Decoy. Good job.” He adjusted his tie, more to appear to be more in control of the situation than he truly felt.

”Director, there’s more.”

Well, there went any chance of growing his hair back. ”Well what are you waiting for, an invitation? Report!”

”We have two verified moles in the PRT. Members of the Community. The Wards have already apprehended one, and have just now engaged the second.”

Kens wiped his face in a mixture of worry and relief. ”They were supposed to be in schoo-nevermind. Just tell me who.”

”The first was the former Wards leader, Collin, codename Sonar. He has been faking his injury and is currently unconscious in his quarters.”

The director’s stomach dropped. Collin? That was terrible. With his powers, literally every single secret, every piece of covert intel, every logistic in the whole building could be compromised. ”I doubt it can get worse. Who have the kids engaged?”

”Protean, sir.”

The look on his face said everything. It got worse. ”Screw the desk job, I’m engaging. This old soldier has got to do his part to protect the kids. You can manage the logistics of the city better than I could, Decoy.”

”Understood, director-sama.” The hologram shut off as Kens pulled out a pistol from beneath his desk and checked it. It was loaded with live rounds. He took another quick inspection of his suit and found his containment foam grenade. Perfect. His gear in tow, the director rushed out of his office door.

Been awhile since I’ve done this.

Outside his door was a bog-standard reception area, complete with terrible ‘bought in bulk’ chairs, and a secretary who looked up at him with wide, scared eyes. The further end of the room held a closed door, which would lead further into hallways and doorways to the various inner workings of the PRT HQ building.

“Director! Sir, is it true? My daughter just messaged me about sounds of fighting down the street from our apartment…” his secretary, Julie Sanders, spoke up as soon as he stepped outside his office. A picture of worry, her eyes wide with fear, she'd half stood up as she asked her question.

The director didn’t have time to hang back, the Wards would no doubt need backup. Still, Julie had been a good help to him since he first took office, and just as a human being needed that reassurance. Without breaking stride he spoke to her. ”It’s an all hands on deck situation.”

“Oh my god….” she whispered in horror, hastily picking up the phone as she opened her desk. “Sis? Yeah, it's me…. Tell Father it's done.”

A gunshot rang out.

The director gave pause just before reaching the door. A phone? This was a secure government location. All outside communication was strictly forbidden. He turned back around to gauge the situation, only to be met with the barrel of a pistol, and a bullet tearing into his chest. Roger Kens fell to the floor, knocking over a nearby chair in the process, landing behind a desk just out of sight. Only his legs would have been visible.

He was breathing hard, his white button up shit slowly spreading red. Damn, the kevlar built into his suit didn’t hold. It only slowed the bullet, leaving him injured. Injured, but not dead at least. Damn. Julie knew he wore it, too. Must’ve known exactly where to shoot.

His mind raced as he watched the bleeding spread. “Father.” That’s what she had said. At least one more mole Decoy hadn’t accounted for. Damn it all to Hell! Three years he worked with her. Where along the way did Patriarch get to her? How long was she working for him? He shoved these thoughts aside. Roger Kens was now in an active warzone again. There could only be one focus: win. All other thoughts would only slow him down. Get him killed.

Damn, if only he were ten years younger. He’d still have been able to bounce back with this injury and probably win. But he wasn’t. Which means he had to resort to… Other methods. Taking a deep sigh, the director cleared his mind and focused on his goal: separate Julie from her gun.

“Yeah, yeah. Kevlar vest only matters if you don't know about it. Yeah, I know. I'll make sure before I leave for phase two. Of course. I'll report in fifteen.” Julie hung up, her flip phone snapping audibly closed, before she started moving slowly around her desk. Her pistol raised slightly, ready but not aimed, finger on the trigger as she walked confidently forward.

Roger wheezed as softly as he could, trying his best to stay motionless. Carefully he placed his hand in his suit jacket, taking hold of his special pistol. He would only have a split second to react, a fraction of what he was comfortable with. Still, he had a plan and he knew how to enact it. Tap, tap, tap came Julie’s footsteps as she approached. Don’t move. Move and you’re dead. Stay. Perfectly. Still. The very instant she comes into view you can strike, but so can she.

The woman’s eyes appeared over the desk, and they locked in on one another. Now or never. He pulled the trigger. BANG! The shot rang out, his pistol kicked back hard into his gut from the recoil and poor positioning which only made him wince in more pain, but the results were fantastic. His bullet traveled straight through the wooden desk, aimed vaguely in her general direction. It continued to travel upon blasting through the wood, striking into his secretary’s gun hand.

Julie screamed, a raw sound full of pain and anger, as her gun fell to the floor at her feet, her body quickly following. “You fucking prick, that was my good hand!” she ground out from gritted teeth as she fumbled with the pistol with her off hand. Trying to get a grip on it as she shook from the shock, the handle slick with blood, she kicked out with her heels at the Director's legs. Another few seconds and she'd have the gun again, no doubt firing at the first possibility.

Yes, the perfect opportunity and he took advantage. Julie’s gun fell, slick with blood and she retaliated in a full rage. The woman tried to recover the weapon whilst taking a cheap shot at him with her heels, but that meant she couldn’t concentrate properly on one or the other. Her attention was split, in a way, and that would give her the tiniest slowdown, the smallest hesitation in her movements. Roger Kens was focused. He wouldn’t make that mistake.

Bang! Bang! Bang! He fired off three more shots, this time holding the gun properly and absorbing the recoil, even though it still meant his wound hurt like a son of a bitch. He aimed for center of mass, no remorse and no hesitation, like he was still a soldier out in the battlefield.

With a surprised sound, almost a gasp, Julie looked down in surprise as blood blossomed from beneath her jacket and business attire. “Huh,” she managed, before she collapsed backwards. The gun fell, again, from her grip as her breathing slowed to a stop. Her phone was visible on the desk, nothing else standing out of the ordinary outside of her actions.

With great effort the director hefted himself back up, holding onto the desk for leverage. The red was still spreading, subsuming the white. Damn, this was really bad. It stung something fierce, forcing him to walk with a limp. The director hobbled over his now deceased secretary, sparing her a glance. ”I know it wasn’t really your choice. I’ll personally inform your family and pay for your funeral.”

He continued hobbling toward her desk, keeping pressure on the wound. If there was another mole, he wasn’t so sure he could come out on top again. This was a risk, but a risk he had to take. The director reached out to the phone and took it, flipping it open for examination.

The phone was still on the call log, unlocked, showing a series of calls to an unknown number. It appeared that she had no contacts, at a quick examination, and regularly deleted her texts. There was only one text, likely the one that had signaled her to start her attack.

We're starting. Deal with the old man and trash everything you can. Father's orders.

The phone number was probably a burner, disposable. Unlikely they’d be able to trace anything back from it. Still, it was worth noting. He’d send a report for thinker analysis at the very least. Reading the text an idea struck him. It broke all kinds of protocol, but fuck it, so did housing multiple moles and getting shot in his own damn office. Kens decided to send a text back.

Age and experience kicks the shit out of naive youth

The reply came after a minute.

You'll regret that. Watch your troops burn in the streets as your capes realize the truth.

Heh. That probably got under their skin. Good. Get their feathers ruffled and keep them talking. Might get them to slip up. He had a new goal: separate this person from whatever information they can accidentally provide.

The truth that your father is a two-bit thug that got too big for his britches? Face it, even if I lose here, attacking the city will only bring in the real big hitters. Alexandria can fuck you all up in an hour.

While he waited, the director knew he was still needed downstairs. The Wards were facing Protean. Oh god, Protean was one of them, he nearly forgot. Slowly, with a deep pained breath on every step, he made his way toward the hall door.

No threat can stand before Father and not realize the truth. Sonika, Lamprey, soon they will all be family.

The elevator was still a bit far away. Why couldn’t he move any faster?

I’ve got a secret for you. We’ve been holding back. I’ve issued a kill order on every single parahuman in the Community. Your family is going to pile up in the streets. How’s that for truth?

It wasn’t true, though as soon as he was able to make it happen it would be. Actually, while he was thinking about it…

”Decoy?” Kens tapped a button on his ear mounted communicator. He was patched in immediately. ”Issue kill orders on the Community. All of them. Executive order 13, passcode alpha delta sixty-seven. I don’t think the suits would really give a fuck that I’m bypassing their approval in this case. Get the word out.”

”Right away, Director-sama.”

Like to see you try.

The elevator. Hallelujah. The metal doors slid open and he stumbled inside, swiping his badge over the sensor and practically punching the first floor button. Slowly, painfully slowly, the doors slid to a close.

Don’t worry. You will.

Yeah, sure. And Behemoth is a magical girl. Whatever you say, dumbass.

Heh. They were getting pretty flippant. Whoever this was was actually handling the situation quite well. Floor 35. 30. 25.

I killed your sister. It wasn’t even hard. The rest of you will be the same. Then I’ll go back home and drink my coffee.

You'll be dead before the day ends. I'm sure Master Baiter will love you make you suffer once she's done with that bitch at the college.

20.15.10. Only 10 more floors to go. In the meantime, now he knew where Troll was.

”Decoy, Troll is at the university. Assign whoever is available to that location as a priority target. Of all the Community, she is second priority only to Patriarch himself.”

”Understood.”

I’ve suffered plenty in my day. There’s nothing she can do to me I haven’t already lived through. But I’d be happy to share my experiences with you. ;)

Then you're in luck, fucker.

5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Ding. The door slowly slid open, revealing to Director Kens the hallway before him. Nearly a hundred feet away was Protean along with the Wards. This was more important. He pocketed the phone and focused on the scene before him, staying out of sight. The perfect opportunity. He needed to wait… For the perfect opportunity.

---

---

@PlatinumSkink@Spiffy@BCTheEntity@solokolos@Lemonzest1337
Chapter Two: The Rockers
While Mire engaged Swarm, much to Creep's displeasure, he would find that while he could spare them from the gas spilling out from her body, he was unable to affect her actual form despite it being made of the same substance. So he reacted the main way he knew how: with offensive abilities. His partner, meanwhile, lifted a finger at the approaching figure. Bright, neon flashed before distortion rippled through the air between him and Mire faster than one could see. Her mist burned, and a small finger-sized hole opened up clear through her and her mist. With his other hand, he waved and a bright, neon green effect splattered over her eyes, blinding her completely.

The back half of the building chose to collapse at that very moment, and a captivating figure walked through the wall behind Swarm. As soon as she was visible, the first thought anyone got by looking at her was 'friends'. She wouldn't hurt them, would she? She was here to help!

---

@Belladonna@Lemonzest1337@Yoshua171@Ambrosine
(Open invitation to Independents to get involved)
Chapter Three: The City
As Celia broke off a section of the sword, she flipped a middle finger over her shoulder at the rising figure. A frown on her face, she stomped the rooftop, dropping down before the Breaker could throw anything at her. The thrown objects, however, continued on towards Meta. Who now had a missing opponent.

Looking down the hole that Celia had made would reveal that it went down several floors, but the girl was still nowhere to be seen.

Outside, Lamprey had also disappeared from view.

---

As Outsider and Sylph moved after Eyeblight, the villain continued to ignore them. Chasing after some of the staff, he deftly evaded further into the shop and up a set of stairs hidden behind a door. He was going for the upstairs apartments.

---

@Crusader Lord
Chapter Four: The Girl
As Allison tucked behind the corner, the grenade went off, throwing shrapnel, a concussive blast, and explosive sound down the hallway. Ringing dominated her ears, and likely would affect her ability to walk properly, but she knew that they would be coming for her.

What would she do now?

Mire's mouth distorted into a razor toothed maw as she got closer to Swarm and Firefly, a horrid screech escaping her as she raised her blades into the air ready to bring them down on her opponents. But a shotgun like blast of pellets ripped into her mid section and punched many small holes into her, causing her to stagger for a moment. Mire let out an angered hiss as the holes almost instantly vanished, she didn't get a chance to resume her charge before Firefly popped another hole into her and covered her face in light blinding her. "Gaaah! Nooo!" Mire roared, she hated not being able to see anything, it brought back bad memories. She growled and took a moment to asses the situation, she was limited to using her mist to sense where her opponents were, and at the moment she could only see a room with an empty bubble in the middle. The bubble was where Swarm and Firefly were held up so she'd just stab into that, eventually she'd nail one of them, then she'd drag their ass out into the mist and peel the skin from their stomachs.

Mire would morph her blade arms into grossly exaggerated lances and point them towards the bubble. She aimed for the center being fairly sure that's where Swarm would be standing, launching a barrage of stabs into the bubble, the only indicator of where they were coming from being the glob of light still attached to Mire's face. Her stabs were rabid and imprecise, like an enraged beast, Mire was fucking pissed because she couldn't see anything. So much so that she didn't even notice the newcomer, mostly because she couldn't see them. Though Mire's mist was starting to fill the entire room having already surrounded Swarm's force-field entirely, so it wouldn't be long until Mire's mist would pick up the new arrival.

---

Evelyn made a face, but reacted quickly as she got feedback from the projection’s senses. Covered, drenched even, in a sticky substance. She activated comms, “Messiah, heat blast my projection” Even as she said it, the tulpa seemed to flex, having already received its modified directives from Evelyn.

Alessa had already gotten the point of what Protean was saying, and whilst she understood that maybe he had some lingering affection for them, it didn’t counteract how he’d been working against them so much. Indeed, Alessa was already burning the quills headed for her to nothing, and would already have simply engulfed him in a blast of overwhelming energy, if it hadn’t been for Lily behind him. Appropriate force output was one thing, harming one’s SO was quite another. So, an alternative to that seemed rather useful, even if it was somewhat counterintuitive; promptly, a ray of intense heat struck the projection, searing through some of the webbing to do so.

Immediately the projection practically exploded, the heat igniting and spreading over the entire surface of its body in an instant. It expanded into a two foot radius of exotic energy, electricity, and fire, incinerating the webbing in less than even half a second. In the same instance the projection’s preparations caused it to expand, about as fast as the aura itself, until it filled the hallway from wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor. The quills would have almost no choice but to strike it...or be almost immediately incinerated by the electrical current and intense heat surrounding its body.

“Hit the snake with a laser, save Tiger Lily,” she said, desperately hoping they’d be in time or that Tiger Lily had managed on her own.

In the time that it had taken Evelyn to say even that, the tulpa had recovered, going from its immobile, blob-like state to moving. The aura snapped back onto its body a few seconds after the quills struck it, but before even that it had reduced its size to fill only the center of the hall, regaining its limbs as it did so. As a direct result it was able to accelerate even faster, going from a jogging pace of 2.6 meters per second, to a running speed of 12.5 meters per second, and then to 16 in another moment.

Evelyn gave out additional orders through comms, “Messiah, If the projection closes distance, hit it with your power. Doesn’t have to be powerful. Use the aura to replenish your stores.” As it was about to reach Protean, its size decreased slightly--still making it about twice his size. It would have all of its limbs well in order, and appeared to be moving in an attempt to grapple the traitor.

Suffice to say, the projection was very impressive to behold. At first, Alessa wasn’t sure it hadn’t outright exploded when she hit it with her power, but the way it expanded at the same time to catch all the excess quills... hot damn. And it moved fast, as did Evelyn’s further instructions. Right, the snake! Running an arc about Protean to get the snake in her sights, she hit it with a lance of heat and light, perhaps more intense than it needed to be - but knowing Protean, he could well have reinforced it to be far more dense than that - whilst also frying the man’s head again. His whole head, antennae and all. She wasn’t going to risk his still being able to detect stuff so easily, though chances were she might have missed something even the second time around.

Evelyn might have smiled if a cold rage hadn’t been what drove her in the moment. Instead the edges of her lips twitched. Refocusing as an idea struck her she called over comms again, “Mastar, throw a bunch of your tar at my projection. I’ve got an idea!” She paused a moment then added, “Margrave, any way you can occupy Protean’s attention further would be helpful. Tiger Lily, if you’re still in play,” I hope you are, she thought, leaving it unsaid, “...then do the same, we want him pinned and on his back foot.”

”Way ahead of you,” came Margrave’s response. If one glanced his way, separate from the rest and never really at risk for a quill-puncturing, one could see his submachine gun tucked under his arm as he labored with great intensity on something in his hands. After a couple seconds, the antihero finished the wall of lego bricks he’d been building, and after taking it in one hand he hurled it Protean’s way. The moment it left his proximity the assembly sprang to a full-size brick wall, three feet high and five feet wide, flying at the traitor like a massive frisbee.

Mastar heard Evelyn’s call over the comms, and immediately nodded to herself. The spines that were shot at the tarry blob were ineffective since they were blocked almost entirely by the projection, but it wasn’t a terrible worry anyway, since the girl could easily switch into her fully viscous state to soak up the damage. The tar girl turned her head towards the tulpa and flashed a smile, her entire left arm leaving her form, save for the small bump where her shoulder would be. Meanwhile, the right arm grew twice its normal size and seeped down into a large droplet.

”Tar incoming!” Mastar called as she spun around, her deformed arm picking up momentum before it separated from the rest of her body. Of course, it sent Mastar back towards the wall, but the arm found itself flung towards the projection and heading to the shadowy figure quite fast.

The tar struck it square in the back, but the tulpa seemed almost not to notice, except in that the tar was pulled into its body. Once it had absorbed the tar it attempted to swivel to Protean’s side, sensing the Margrave’s attack and giving it a chance to strike Protean. A moment later it had more limbs, all stabbing at Protean, its size almost filling the hallway, its speed and strength and ability to adjust trajectory more than considerable. If it managed to strike and pierce Protean it would latch on and pump the absorbed tar directly into the shapeshifter’s body. Beyond that, if it managed to grapple as well, Messiah would hit it with her power and it would light up in a storm of burning, shocking energy.