Minerva impatiently tapped her foot as she peered out of the window from the top floor of the Sherman Center. Although everyone in the future headquarters of the Guardians saw this woman as Chris’ assistant, it was all a façade. The Greek goddess, Athena, used this disguise as a way to keep an eye on Chris and the other heroes. Obviously, most of the secretary work was beneath the goddess and she therefore used used apparitions for most of the day-to-day work. But when something needed to get done, Athena would step in, like when Athena had to locate all the heroes during the Pax Metahumana crisis. Only a being like a goddess could have accomplished such a task.

Christopher Arthur had departed about an hour ago in response to a situation in the financial district. The report was that a couple heroes had shown up on the scene and were unable to apprehend the suspect. No one knew quite what the villain’s powers were, but the initial report was that he could emit black energy from his hands. Because Chris had a couple new devices he wanted to test, he ran out of the Sherman Center as fast as he could when he heard that even those heroes were in trouble.

When Minerva saw Chris’ power armor soaring back to the Sherman Center, she gave a sigh or relief, although she also rolled her eyes. She then turned and walked over towards the express elevator that connected to the rooftop. The elevator dinged as the two doors slid open, revealing Chris standing within while still dressed in the undersuit he always would wear beneath his power armor.

“You should have seen that guy’s face when his powers did nothing against my armor,” Chris boasted while he exited the elevator. Minerva just gave him an unimpressed look when she heard his boast. When Chris did not get the expected response from his assistant, he continued after taking a gulp from the water bottle he had been holding.

“The perp’s metahuman powers allowed him to nullify someone’s powers temporarily. He almost wet himself when he realized you can’t cancel out powers that didn’t exist.”

“How did the devices fare in your field test,” Minerva asked while she ignored Chris’s boasts.

“The sonic emitters worked like a charm,” Chris reported. Back when the Hounds of Humanity had attacked Lost Haven University, Chris had been able to procure some of the rubble of the towers that the Hounds had used to dust some metahuman students, lacking a better word. He then reverse-engineered the technology and created a proto-type that used a fraction of a percentage of the power that the original device used. Chris wanted something that could stun, not kill. “Blackout—“

“Blackout?” Minerva asked for some clarification.

“That’s what the dude called himself,” Chris explained. “Anyways, the emitters stunned him long enough for me to get a jump on him, not that I really needed it.”

“And how did the sonic emitters affect the other heroes?”

“They experienced slight annoyance, although that might have been mitigated by Blackout’s powers. I still need to figure out a way so the emitters only affect the baddies.”

“And what about the nullifying cuffs?”

“No cigar,” Chris admitted, “he must not be one of Diplodoc’s. Kind of limits its usefulness. Anything else?”

“I think we should fast-track the installation of the wavelength scanners in Pacific Point. They have a metahuman population higher than the national average, so it would be an efficient location for scanning.”

“It will take some time to shuffle the installation schedule,” Chris told his assistant after he had taken another gulp from his water bottle. “We’ve been at this for an entire month now and we don’t even have the Eastern Seaboard completely covered yet. It won’t be a quick fix.”

Chris then paused for a moment. He knew that Minerva’s suggestion was right. The majority of people who had their memories or even powers altered were metahumans. What was the point of prioritizing some small town in the Midwest with little metahuman activity when there are bigger fish to fry? But manufacturing the devices, securing the proper permits for installation, and the manhours required to get everything done meant that he could not just wave a magic wand and produce an instant fix. These things took time.’

“If you think we should prioritize Pacific Point, why don’t we send one of the miniaturized proto-types to either S.P.A.R.K. or the Immortals? It has limited range, but if they find anyone, they can contact us.”

“I’ll put the paperwork in and set everything in motion,” Minerva told Chris.

“Alright. Unless you have anything else, I’ll be in the shower. Got a big date tonight,” Chris mentioned as he backpedaled towards the elevator.

“Have fun,” Minerva said with sarcasm. Even though Minerva had her back to him, Chris knew she was rolling her eyes at him. But it was not like he cared. She could judge him all she wants. He was the one who was paying her salary.

Once Minerva heard the elevator ding, indicating that the doors had shut, she gave a sigh of relief. She did not think that it would have been this easy to manipulate Chris to help out. It only took Minerva one look at her unconscious pupil to know that there was something wrong with Aubrey. Once she found out what had happened to Kelly Brown and Sammy Kadowsky, Minerva could easily connect the dots. Now she had to wait and see if her hunch turned out to be correct.

Location: Somewhere in the sewer systems, Lost Haven
Time: Some time past 8:30pm

---

Hearing no response from Leila as to whether Jai had found Racheli prior to Michael entering the sewers, Fletch sighed. Trying to get to her allies before he did, she found the nearest manhole cover and hastily beelined towards it. She grabbed the soaked jacket on her way and tied it around her waist before clambering down into the sewers below. Keeping her arms around her bow, the release aid clamped around the loop on the string where the arrow was knocked into place, the archer crept her way forward.

The turbid atmosphere of the sewers made it difficult to see, even with the yellow-tinted glasses she wore removed from her sight. The smell didn’t help either as the sewage was mixed with the metallic smell of blood that was dumped onto her during the fight. Not having a chance to get a glimpse of what she looked like, she bet that she looked like something out of an Evil Dead movie.

"I seriously need a shower after this,” she muttered.

Trudging through the sludge, Fletch was getting nowhere. Without any light and no way of knowing the layout of the sewers, the fear of getting lost was becoming palpable. While she didn’t know where Michael was, there was only one option to find Jai and Racheli due to her human-ness.

"Jai!” Fletch called out into the darkness, a note of worry in the call. The echoes were muted, but no immediate responses. ”Jai! Racheli!”

There was a faint crackle on Kayla's earpiece from the set that Jai had given to Kayla and the soldier prior to the mission start. "Kayla, did you go down into the sewers? Jai and Rach should be coming up shortly…"

Finally, Fletch thought, relieved that someone finally answered.

"Michael escaped into the sewers,” the archer replied. "Everything was silent when he ran away. I think he knows that Jai has gone in to rescue Rach and couldn’t just stand there and do nothing!” I don’t want to be useless.

"But it's not a good idea to go in when you're not equipped to deal with the sewers," Leila said with a frown. "You just finished dealing with Michael above ground—"

"Kayla, where are you?"

---

Racheli stared up to the manhole opening. Her eyes squinted from the light filtering in and her hand instinctively raised to shield her vision from it. She leaned more into Jai for support before a voice caught her attention.

“Kayla didn’t follow you down, did she?” A spike of anxiety filled her voice. Her head looked behind her shoulder and scanned the murky scenery for signs of Kayla.

Jai glanced at the woman in his arms and squinted, adjusting her against his side when she leaned into him for more support. "No, I do not recall that being part of the plan."

Kayla's biosignature is heading further into the sewer system.

Glancing down at Rach, he asked with the bow of his head, "Do you mind if I bring you above-ground somewhere safe and go after Kayla? Apologies if this seems presumptuous of me, but I do not want to leave you as you are." There was a firmness to his tone, indicating that he's aware that Michael was still after both Rach and Kayla for various reasons.

"God damn it, Kayla," Racheli muttered and shook her head, her pixie cut scattering a few moisture droplets.

"No, we will fucking go get her. Then I'll kick her ass for risking her damn neck. I'll be fine. I'm no damsel in distress." She ignored the fact she couldn't navigate this place worth shit. Her figure began to move from the ladder but stopped.

"Which way is she?"

Jai held up a hand, listening to the conversation between Kayla and Leila. He nodded in Rach's direction, understanding her stubbornness isn't going to be helpful in the long run if he argued.

"Kayla, where are you?"

Jai’s voice was further relief to Kayla. She had no idea if Michael had gotten to them or not, but hearing his real voice had relieved some of the anxiety she had. While still armed with her bow, she remained still as she tried to figure out where she is from the direction of the manhole she went in.

"I don’t know, Jai,” she replied, slightly worried.

"Trying to backtrack my route from the manhole in the front of the garage. I think I’ve gone down the tube heading towards the bus stop I have been taking for the past month.”

Hearing something in the distance, Kayla raised her bow in the direction and waited to take a shot.

"Stay where you are—"

Kayla is located approximately about a klick in this direction, according to her remarks.

On his map display, he noted the little dot that indicated Kayla's location. With a shake of his head, he continued, "—we're on our way." Turning to Rach, he offered his arms.

"If you want to join me and retrieve Kayla, I need to be quick so I'll either have to carry you on my back or in my arms—which will you prefer?"

Racheli had been silent. Her lips curled into a frown when Jai asked her a question and she gritted her teeth, answering.

"Back, it would be easier and if I have to let go, I can. I feel like the asshole might be lurking.” Her head turned into the darkness, but she couldn’t shake the fear crawling up her spine.

He knelt down in front of Rach so she could climb up behind him.

With a little direction, she stepped behind him and slipped onto his back. She couldn't help but admire the myriad raw muscles interlocking under the shirt. A soft wistful sigh escaped her lips while she sulked in her new position.

Once her arms were wrapped around his neck and shoulders, he linked his arms under her legs and hoisted her up as he stood upright at an angle. Making sure she was both comfortable and with a firm grip, he advised, "Please hold on—I plan on moving quickly."

“If I can dent steel, I think I can hang on.” Racheli’s grip tightened around his neck to prove her point.

He made a noise in the back of his throat—a mixture of a laugh and a snort. Still, his body shifted, coiling like a spring as he prepared for a run. His arm tightened around her thighs and he bolted, careful not to damage the cement that lined the sewer system. He moved through the sludge and muck of the sewers with little difficulty. He jumped and moved like an agile antelope on the side of a steep mountainside, but with the controlled power of a jaguar.

It took little more than a couple of seconds before his computer detected Kayla's heat signature.

Kayla detected in...

"Found you, Kayla." Jai recognized the bow in hand and the quiver of arrows that were strapped to her back and her right leg, but because Michael could even replicate equipment, he paused just a short distance away from her. Again, he flexed his arms around Rach's thighs, bracing for possible combat, but also for the reflex that he knew would come for Kayla putting herself in further danger. "Ready to go?"

He didn't bother questioning her why she even bothered coming down after them, despite how ill-suited she was for mucking around in a dark sewer system.

Kayla paused for a moment as Jai arrived. Not initially seeing Racheli on his back, she pointed the bow towards him, thinking he might be Michael. As she focused the scope on his head, the familiar pixie cut hair was seen in the peripheral of the scope. Figuring that he couldn’t mimic two people at the same time, she eased the tension on the bowstring. She was still cautious, however…

"I figure I’d stay down here a little bit longer," she replied sarcastically. "In all seriousness, the sooner we are out of here, the sooner I can wash this crap off."

At the same time, the plant familiar crawled out of the pocket he had been hiding and climbed onto her shoulder. Unlike Kayla, Archie had remained clean through all the endeavour, looking at Racheli with a look of recognition.

Racheli tensed and began to pull off Jai. His grip on her thighs stopped her, causing her to frown, and her expression darkened with anger. Her nostrils flared before she calmed her temper. Letting it vanish, she looked harder at ‘Kayla’. Several moments passed before Kayla’s voice echoed back and the leafy creature clamored onto her shoulder.

"What are we doing?" Racheli leaned in and hissed quietly into his ear.

His blue eye flickered through the myriad of monitoring and system checks before easing his grip on Rach's thighs, confirming that this was indeed Kayla. "Making sure it's Kayla and not the target," Jai muttered.

To Kayla, he remarked with a slightly aggrieved sigh, "Nice to know you're still reckless as ever, even in a mission like this one." He dropped one arm while the other held Rach. "At any rate, come here so we can leave."

Sensing that she was in safe hands, Kayla removed the arrow from her bow and began clipping it onto her hip. Once everything was secure, she slowly made her way towards them.

"Yessir," she replied, sounding fairly chirpy to know that they’re leaving the sewers. "Lead the way, seeing as you have the navigation system.”

Racheli’s arms tightened and her legs crossed over his waist front to keep herself from falling over. She glared at him, but her expression melted at hearing him confirm it was really Kayla.

“You look like shit. Is that your blood or the asshole’s? It better be the fucking asshole’s.” Racheli snapped, hiding her worry.

"Nice to see you too,” Kayla replied, deflecting the snap at her. ”And I think with an exhaust and iron bar being a few of the things lodged in his body, the blood is his. There were a couple of times I landed in a bit of hot water, one point nearly literally, but he’ll be feeling it in the morning.”

Once Kayla was in range, he took her hand. They won't be able to leave as quickly as they came in so they'll have trudge their way through. He still had Rach secured with one hand, helping her remain upright on his back.

Though, there was an option.

Kayla finally felt at ease once she was close enough to the pair of them. She planned on walking alongside them as they went to leave the sewer, but she felt Jai’s hand clasp her bloodied left hand. She blushed in the darkness of the sewers at the move. It's the first time she held another guy’s hand in a long time. Her heart picked up at the idea, her blush darkening.

Jai noted the change in pulse, picking up Kayla's change in heart rate and made a mental note to ask her later.

The silence stuck with the group for a little while as they trudged through the sewers. During that time, Kayla thought about finally reuniting with Racheli again. The thought about everything that happened in the garage and how everything turned outweighed on her mind. Her pace with Jai slowed until she came to a stop.

"I’m sorry, Rach," she spoke, her voice laced with guilt.

“It's not your fault things turned to shit. He’s supposed to be dead, according to the state."

Racheli shrugged off the apology. Her eyes still searched the surroundings, feeling edgy and unsettled. She expected him not to be done. Not by a long shot.

Jai's single arm that's hooked under Rach's leg gently squeezed in reassurance. Michael would be quickly shut down if he came an inch close to him.

Kayla shook her head.

"No, it is," she replied. She was aware that Michael could be in the vicinity, but this had been eating her up from the moment Racheli stormed out of the garage. "I had said things back in the garage that upset you and had caused you to stumble into Michael.” She slid the cowl down, not wanting to hide behind it when she spoke.

"In a world where people have amazing abilities, I felt like I was being a fool to try and follow their footsteps—in following your footsteps. I didn’t want to feel like a burden and wanted to show that I have—at least—a chance to rub shoulders with you guys. Even if it was for a moment—though, it was probably the most physical pain I’ve experienced in my life. And yet, I still feel like I’ve let you down.” Slowly, she lowered her head in remorse.

When Jai brought her closer, Racheli dialed back her strength and reached over. Her hand tapped Kayla upside the back of the head. Her lips frowned as she leaned back into position. She adjusted slightly to get comfortable.

"You have no idea what I would have given up to be like you—to be human. The reason I walked out was because I was pissed at myself. I managed to survive a virus that everyone's told should've killed me, but I couldn't keep being a human."

Racheli sighed then continued.

"You did. Being normal isn't a weakness and being abnormal isn't strength. It's the choices you make with what you have. Remember that. And stop forcing me to sound like a goddamn fortune cookie."

Kayla was taken by surprise by the tap on the back of the head. She looked back up as Rach talked to her about wanting to be human. As she listened, she was slowly beginning to understand everything about her friend. While there was still much more to answer, it was enough to feel better about what happened. Her lips slowly curled up into a friendly smile.

"I will remember that,” she replied, her tone happier than a moment ago. "And I’ll try not to in the future, despite it making you sound more sagely thank you are.” She giggled at the end of her impromptu joke, hopefully, to alleviate the dour mood she created.

She exhaled and leaned into Jai, gritting her teeth a bit. "It's not your fault my past caught up with me."

”The past will come back to haunt us at some point. For me, I just deal with it as they come. However, don’t worry about Michael if he appears again. Next time he does, we’ll be there to help.”

Jai adjusted Rach on his back with his one arm, reminding Rach to relax, and he squeezed Kayla's hand with the other. Though his face was indiscernible through the helmet, he tried to make his voice sound sympathetic. "You're probably the most human of us," Jai said. Though he wasn't looking at them and was rather focusing on the map system and the various variables on his display as he slowly guided them out.

Kayla looked towards Jai. As soon as he said she was the most human of the group, one matter that was discovered came back into her mind.

"I might be, but I still would want to know what the fuck was inside me when the nanites healed me.” Remembering that Racheli wasn’t there, the archer looked towards her as her right hand rubbed the scar on her left chest. "Speaking of which, Jai and Leila had discovered that something in my body had stopped your virus from causing further harm. Something I’m still trying to wrap my head around."

At her remark, he added, "So you're one of us." But then, he sighed, shaking his head. "And I'm sure Leila will scold you plenty for us when we get back." With a gentle tug, he pulled Kayla along to keep moving.

“You keep squeezing me…” Racheli commented, looking at him with an expected look.

"And what?" There was a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Keep squeezing and I might pin you to a bed,” Racheli muttered quiet enough that only Jai heard.

Since Rach wouldn't be able to see his smirk, he responded in a low voice that only she could hear, "I'd like to see you try." But, the manhole came into view.

Kayla was going to say something about Leila. However, the slight interaction between Jai and Racheli caught her attention. She clenched her jaw as they talked back and forth. She slid her hand out of Jai’s hand.

"Come on, let’s get out of the sewer."

Racheli glanced over to Kayla and narrowed her eyes. She didn’t say anything while they edged to the nearest manhole.

The withdrawal of Kayla's hand quirked Jai's brow in question. Instead, with the manhole in view, he took it as a sign that she didn't need any further assistance, despite the fact, his observations had all but said otherwise.

"Kayla, it's uneven ground here so here—give me your hand until we get to the ladder."

With the manhole in view, Kayla’s eyes just focused on that and away from the other two. The sooner she was out of here, the better. She didn’t take her eyes off of where they were going when Jai spoke to her.

"Thanks, but I’ll be fine from here,” she replied tersely.

The archer trudged on ahead of them to the ladder. She waited for a little bit as they got closer before deftly climbing out of the sewers without another word.

Jai dropped his hand.

“What the fuck is her problem?” Racheli muttered low enough for Jai alone, her eyes watching Kayla disappear to the surface. Carefully, she began to detangle herself from Jai and climbed up next.

He let Racheli go, watching and making sure she climbed up to safety before letting himself sigh near inaudibly at their departure. If he could, he would be pinching the bridge of his nose.

His earpiece crackled to life but he knew that the voice in his ear was only targeted at him. "Out of one frying pan and into another, hm?"

"Leila." For a moment, he sounded tired. Or at least, something resembling it.

"Mhm. Well, I expect you to report in when you get a moment, but take care."

"I always do." And Jai left the sewers, following after the girls in one smooth jump up to the surface.

---

It had been a long journey back home from the manhole entrance near the garage. Still covered in Michael’s blood, Kayla was glad when she drove up to the area she kept her bike recently. While she normally parked it at the apartment complex, her turns as Fletch as well as the attack just outside of her apartment after the bus bomb meant she kept it away to keep her identity as close to a secret as possible. Though that was not without a lack of caution as a few people knew of her identity. First, there is Jai and Racheli. Those two came as close to being her friends as it had been for a long time, despite the annoying flirting between them. Then there’s Michael Garth, learning of her identity after being Rach for a little over 2 days. And although it hadn’t been very explicit in revealing the information, she had a suspicion that if Roadblock looked further into the LHPD HQ raid she pulled off that he would know. Still, there could be worse people to know about her such as the Penose. A topic she needed to get back to now that everything was back to relative normality. Pondering on the thought, she shut the bike and most of her gear in an abandoned garage she managed to buy in the past month before making her way back to her apartment.

Using her agility and quickly developed parkour, Kayla stealthily made it back to her office room in her apartment, silently closing the window as to not wake Mia up if she was in. Archie returned to his perch on a high shelf to sleep for the night. Peering through a crack in the door to the living room and satisfied that Mia was sound asleep, Kayla dove into her room to quickly change out of her clothes into her orange flannel dressing gown. With the bloodied clothes, she hid them under the bed until she had the opportunity to wash them under her roommate’s radar. Satisfied with how the clothes are out of sight, she trundled from the bedroom into the bathroom.

Moments later, hot water was running down from her head as she stepped into the shower. For a moment, with everything hidden by the steam, she fully relaxed as the heat loosened the tension in her shoulders, back and legs. The caked blood slowly came off with the running water, turning the floor of the shower red. Running her fingers through her hair, she slowly began to wash the blood off. In that moment, with her back slightly uncomfortable from the hot water from the minor scald, Kayla thought back to Racheli and Jai’s interactions with each other on their way out from the sewers. She remembered the feeling she had when she noticed them. The gnawing feeling of anger of seeing those two together. No, she thought. If that had been the case with two people flirting with each other, then she would have felt that whenever she saw couples in public. The sadness within of seeing other people happy with each other and her longing for Jason was felt enough and often to know she was feeling something else. It was specifically seeing those two together in that way that changed her emotions. Slowly, the realization of what those feelings were caused Kayla to tense up. That wasn’t anger…

”Am I… getting jealous?” she muttered to herself. She remembered that feeling of jealousy and envy whenever she saw Jason with other women. It was just fleeting as she had upped her game for her ex-fiancé to notice her. Realizing those emotions were back, Kayla slowly lowered herself onto the floor, sitting under the running water of the shower. Placing both her arms on her knees and resting her head on it, she sat there solemnly as her thoughts drifted off to nothing.

After sitting for what seemed to be an age, Kayla got back up and turned the shower off. Standing there drip-drying, she grabbed a cleaning cloth from near the toiler and wiped away whatever was left of the blood. Once it was cleaned enough that the blood seemed to be gone, Kayla reached for a towel and dried herself off before putting her dressing gown on. As she left the bathroom and slowly walked towards her bedroom, Mia’s room door opened slowly. The sleepy blonde-haired Mia peered around the corner, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes to figure out where the sound was coming from.

“Oh hey, Kayla,” Mia spoke groggily, stepping around to reveal the pink pajama set with repeating Pusheen motifs on the trousers and a big Pusheen unicorn on her sleeveless top. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

”Sorry if I woke you up, Mia,” Kayla replied, stopping by the door to her room. ”Tried to be as quiet as possible, you needing your sleep and everything.”

Mia yawned. “Don’t worry about it. Haven’t been sleeping well for the past month now, with everything.”

It couldn’t be helped that Kayla yawned, the exertions of the evening finally catching up to her. Still, she couldn’t help but frown. ”Any news on Mark?”

“Unfortunately, he still hasn’t woken up yet. But he’s looking better to the point he might wake up soon.”

”That’s at least good to hear.” She smiled faintly before turning to head in her room.

“So how did your evening go? Had fun with Jai and Racheli?”

Kayla froze for a moment. A pang of the mixed emotions was etched on her hidden face. “Yeah, everything went ok. I’ll talk more about it in the morning, ok?”

Mia pursed her lips in annoyance. “I suppose that you do need your sleep after a long day. But I want all the juicy deets.”

With the goodnights said, both women retired for the night. Kayla took down her night medication and slipped under her duvet. Her thoughts returned to the image of Jai and Racheli in the sewer. Feeling more upset than before, she curled up into a ball and allowed for sleep to take her.

Jefferson sat on April's couch, legs crossed, and rapped his fingers along the underside of his shoe. Leaning back, he startled himself on a pink, sequined throw pillow. After he had readjusted said pillow, he picked up his phone and checked the clock for only about the fifteenth time. Sighing, he called out, "Come on, let's see it!" He was understandably anxious to admire his own handiwork.

April, meanwhile, was considerably less enthusiastic about the prospect of being seen in Jefferson's ensemble. Tugging at the hem of the bright red skirt, she stepped out from the bedroom and folded her arms. The costume, such as it was, was more than a little form-fitting in places that April didn't care it to be. Obviously designed by a man, she thought with some measure of resignation. Grabbing a fistful of the heavyweight fabric draped over her back, she held it out and asked, "A skirt and a cape? Really?"

"It's a classic look!" Jeff responded defensively. Leaning back, he sized her up a moment before declaring, "I think it looks great! Very retro sci-fi chic. Don't you just love the color scheme?" She didn't. The green made sense, but white and red? April wasn't entirely convinced. Not to mention that she felt the radiation symbol on her chest was just a bit on-the-nose. "The best part is that it doesn't just look good. That's state-of-the-art poly-weave fiber; it could survive a cannon blast. Plus, it's thick enough to insulate some of your ambient radiation for when you're running really hot."

April considered herself in the mirror. Stylistic differences aside, she couldn't deny the craftsmanship on display, though she did wonder where Jefferson learned to sew... or how he got her size exactly right. As she took in the moment, she removed her glasses and let her hair down. One thing was for sure: No one who knew how she normally dressed would recognize her in this thing. April swung her hips to watch the cape flutter behind her.

"Now, all we need is a name," Jefferson announced. He sat forward, tapping his chin. "Isotope? I like it, but I don't love it. Hmmm... what about Geiger Gal?" April flashed him a look, and he nodded. "You're right. I'm overthinking it." As she shook her head and went back to assessing the costume, Jeff thought a moment. Suddenly, his eyes brightened. "I've got it! Miss Megaton!" He held his hands out as if he were presenting a theater marquee.

April turned and made eye contact. With neither excitement nor inflection, she replied, "I am not calling myself 'Miss Megaton.'" She was already well past the point of foolishness and could think of no better way to ensure that she'd never take herself seriously again.

Jeff, however, was undeterred. He wagged his finger. "I don't know. You're gonna think about it later, and it'll grow on ya," he promised.

April rolled her eyes. Not likely. Brushing her bangs out of her face, she gave half a smile. It didn't look completely terrible, she supposed. "Alright, well, I think that's about enough for the test fitting. Now, let's just hope you don't have to cut me out of this thing," she said with only a modicum of genuine concern. She picked up her glasses and began making her way back to the bedroom.

"Uhhh... April? I wouldn't get undressed just yet," Jefferson shouted from the other room. As she poked her head back around the door frame, she found him staring wide-eyed at his phone. "Twitter's blowing up right now. Something about an attack going on downtown." He tapped something on the screen, and a video began to play. Although April couldn't see it from where she was standing, she heard the screams and the sound of gunfire. Jeff snapped his head around. "This might be a job for--"

April held up a single finger. "Don't say it."



Peyton was no stranger to warzones.

Prior to becoming a photographer, she had enlisted and served two tours of duty -- first in Iraq, then Afghanistan. The suffering she had witnessed firsthand had been the catalyst to trade her rifle for a camera. For years thereafter, she travelled to areas of great unrest, shining a light on the injustices of the world. She had witnessed disasters of all kinds: war, genocide, earthquakes, monsoons... Yet, in all that time, she never imagined she would experience a similar scene back home.

Century City was under attack. Death and destruction rained from the skies as an army of flying drones descended on the downtown area. Each of the drones -- which were about three times as large as their recreational counterparts -- were equipped with an array of weaponry, and someone had released them on the city to attack seemingly without discretion. The Century City Police Department scrambled to respond to the attack, but they were clearly outmatched and were already in the process of calling in the California National Guard. Citizens were advised to take shelter and stay off the streets.

Peyton had never been much good at listening, anyway. Heedless of the danger, she set out with her camera to document what was happening. That meant running into the hot zone. She had had to duck a police blockade at the perimeter, which proved little challenge with how distracted Century City's finest were at the moment. From the reports which had flooded the Chronicle, the attack was loosely centered on the City Hall area. Peyton knew of a high-rise development project which would give her a bird's eye view of the action. To get there would involve a little trespassing, but she somehow sensed that would be the least of anyone's concerns.

As expected, Peyton encountered no resistance at the construction site. If there had been any security, they had long since turned tail once the shooting began. Removing her jacket, she laid it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence and went up and over. Hustling inside the half-finished building, she called the elevator and rode to one of the higher floors. When the doors opened, she stepped out into the open air and crossed the bare concrete floor to the edge where a window would one day be. Kneeling down, she looked down her camera's sights at the mayhem below. Jesus, she thought, watching the drones circle like an agitated beehive.

She snapped a few quick pictures, then reached into her bag for a larger zoom lens. The drones moved so quickly that they were hard to track, but Peyton had a trained eye. She picked a spot and waited for one to drift into view. "Gotcha," she muttered to herself, taking the shot. As soon as the shutter clicked, the drone suddenly turned to face her. Peyton's eyes went wide. "Oh, fuck."

The drone made a beeline for her current position, so Peyton grabbed her things and scrambled to her feet. No sooner had she made it halfway to the elevator before she heard the familiar whirr of a minigun spinning up. Instincts took over, and she dove behind a pillar moments before a line of bullets lit up the spot where she once stood. They perforated the elevator doors, showering the room in sparks. Peyton ducked and covered her head.

In an attempt to figure out the drone's positioning, Peyton peeked her head around the pillar. The drone snapped around, opening fire again, as Peyton rolled out of the way. Bits of concrete and plaster rained down on her head. That machine would never let her get to the elevator, so she would have to chance the stairs. Sprinting, she neared her destination when something whistled past, and the stairwell erupted into a fireball. Peyton was thrown back by the force of the blast, landing near a workbench.

She had landed on her camera, cracking the lens. Yet, that was the very least of her concerns. Peyton lifted her head to see the drone bearing down on her. With a sigh, she reached for a wrench that the construction workers had had the good sense to leave behind. The drone circled, almost taunting her. Peyton resigned herself to her fate. Climbing to her feet, she gripped the wrench and prepared for her last stand. The minigun at the drone's center began to spin. "Come on, then," she spat.

There was a flash, and Peyton jerked her head, wincing. She was sure she was dead, but she had been expecting some pain first. Chancing a look, she opened her eyes to find the drone smoking. A hole had been blown straight through it, exposing all its inner bits. The drone shuddered, trying to bring its weapons to bear, but it had been irreparably damaged. As it shone a targeting laser on Peyton's chest, two hands took hold of it from behind and tore the metal monster asunder. Peyton shielded her face from the shrapnel, then looked up at her savior.



"Are you alright?"

"I am now," Peyton answered, letting the wrench fall from her grasp with a clatter. "Thanks to you." She considered the newcomer a moment. Although neither of them acknowledged it, Peyton knew this must be the same girl from the Mag-Rail disaster. Century City's own guardian angel. Peyton smirked. Well, she certainly looked the part, at least. After another beat, she said, "Nice skirt."

The hero made an odd face, answering uncertainly, "Thanks." A distant explosion drew both their attentions, and Peyton saw the other girl tense. Peyton began switching out her broken lens for a fresh one, as the girl turned back and said, "I've got to--"

"Yeah, definitely," the photographer immediately interjected. "Go do your thing." She gave a little smile to show that she was okay. The hero began to glow faintly and lifted off the ground. "Good luck out there," Peyton added by way of encouragement. The hero gave an appreciative nod before blasting off to go save someone else. Already, Peyton knew that the images she risked her life to get were worthless. By the end of the day, the drones would be backdrop to a much larger story.

Still time to get the shot, she thought encouragingly, making her way to the elevator once more.

As Icon soared through the skies above Taloseden, he soon realized that the situation on the ground was much more dire than he could have imagined. The capitol city was a disaster zone, the streets were littered with debris from blown out buildings as well as the bodies of the resistance fighters, as well as the forces loyal to the regime. He began his descent towards the city, flying just above the rooftops of the buildings within the city limits, most of which only stood a couple of stories high. From what he could see, the worst of the carnage had already come through the main square of Taloseden, as things had seemingly quieted in this section of town.
However, the quiet would not last.

Up ahead just several blocks, there was an explosion of activity. The two sides were locked in combat, the resistance fighters barricaded themselves behind parked vehicles on the street and fired on the regime forces, who returned fire. The firefight was fierce, with both sides taking losses. Icon lowered his head and accelerated towards the two opposing forces, determined to stop any more bloodshed. As he closed in on the two groups, there was a sudden explosion.

No... Icon thought to himself as a rocket that had been fired by a member of the regime's forces impacted one of the buildings directly behind the resistance fighters, sending a chunk of the building falling toward them.

Icon pushed himself, accelerating toward the falling debris that threatened to crush the resistance fighters beneath it. He knew that it was going to be close, but he was determined to stop anyone else from dying. So he dug down and pushed himself, and reached the resistance fighters just before the chunk of brick and mortar crushed them, catching the debris and setting it safely on the ground. Suddenly, Icon was hit by a barrage of gunfire from the regime forces. Icon turned to face the soldiers, and as bullets bounced harmlessly off of him he just shook his head.

“You do know who I am, don't you?” He said as he stepped toward them. Then, before they could react, he left his feet and rocketed toward them, and in only a matter of seconds disarmed the regime soldiers, before doing the same to the resistance fighters.
“Go home.” He said before taking to the skies again.

Icon continued toward the main square, where he once again encountered regime forces engaged with the resistance fighters. This time, the resistance fighters had the regime forces pinned down behind a stone wall while they unloaded their weapons on them. The fighting had clearly been intense, as bodies and debris littered the square.

Dammit. Icon thought to himself as he touched down in front of the regime forces, this time drawing the fire of the resistance fighters. Icon quickly sprang into action, leaping towards the resistance fighters. As he approached them, he fired of a volley of optic blasts, targeting the guns of several of the resistance fighters, causing them to either melt, or in some cases, explode in the fighters' hands. He then swooped in and disarmed the remaining fighters.

As Icon turned his attention on the regime forces, intent on disarming them as well in order to avoid any further bloodshed, he was rocked by a hard punch to his temple, which knocked him off his feet, crashing into a stone wall, much like the one that had been protecting the regime forces from the resistance fighters' assault. The sudden attack left Icon dazed for a moment, however, as he got back to his feet and regained his bearings, he laid his eyes on the man who had taken him by surprise. The man himself seemed unremarkable. An older man, who looked to be in his mid to late fifties who was sporting a shaved head and lightly graying scruff around his face. He also wore the same uniform as the regime soldiers, though he wore general stripes.

“You don't belong here, hero.” The man said angrily. “You are trespassing.” He finished before launching himself at an impossible speed.
Icon reacted, sidestepping the attacking general and countering with a right hand to the back of the man's head, which sent him face first into the ground. The attack seemed to do little to slow the older man down, as he immediately got back to his feet and resumed his attack, hitting Icon with a barrage of punches that forced the blue and silver clad hero backward. Icon fought back, hitting his attacker with several punches that knocked the older man back, then he followed up with an uppercut which dropped the man.

Icon stood over the man, and was about to tell him that he is not here to fight, but that he was only trying to help. However, before he was able to say anything, he was interrupted.

“Enough!” A booming voice called from the distance. Icon immediately stopped what he was doing and turned to face whoever this new threat was. To his surprise, it was a man who he recognized as someone that had, up to this point, been somewhat of a myth. Though there had been some news footage of this man, many people, Icon included had to this point, questioned whether he actually existed, or was a sort of boogeyman invented by the Charonian regime to keep its people in line.

The imposing man wore a black mask with crimson sections that came up from the sides of the forehead and the cheeks with came to points around his glowing blue eyes. His suit was made of black leather and crimson metal armor that protected the most vulnerable parts of the human body, but the piece that stuck out the most was the crimson chest plate, to which a partial cape, which consisted of two pieces of fabric which covered his shoulders and flowed all the way to his feet were attached. The man was also not alone. He was flanked on his right by something that Icon wasn't sure what to make of. It wasn't a man, it wasn't even human. It was a humanoid machine, it was a gray and black android almost completely devoid of facial features, with the exception of a glowing green ring of light which was located between what could only be described as its “eyes.” In fact, any resemblance to facial features was just an illusion created by the way that the android's face plate was attached to its head.

“Omnus, that is enough.” He said.

“Yes, Lord Forsaken.” The older man replied as he stepped away from Icon, joining the masked man and the android.

“You do not belong here.” Forsaken addressed Icon.

“I came here to help, and I was attacked.” Icon told the masked man.

“While I appreciate your...altruism, your interference is not needed. This is my country, these are my people, and this is my problem.” Forsaken said as he looked around at the destruction in the square. “Now I suggest that you leave my borders, before I take this violation of our nation's sovereignty as a personal slight.” Forsaken finished.

Icon was about to protest, however, he decided against it. The Charonian government was notoriously short tempered, and the slightest provocation could be seen as an act of war, and that was the last thing that Icon wanted. So instead he just nodded in acceptance.
“Very well.” Icon said before taking one last look around before rocketing skyward and away from the troubled nation.

From the ground, Forsaken seethed as he watched the hero vanish from sight. The truth was, he DID take Icon's interference in his nation's conflict as a personal slight, and one that would not go without retribution. After several long moments, Forsaken finally took his eyes off the sky.

“Helos.” He said, addressing the living android.

“Yes, my lord?” The android replied.

“Go to America. Watch him. Test him if you must, but his actions cannot go unpunished.”

“I understand.” Helos said.

“He needs to be taught a lesson, I want you to break him.” Forsaken demanded.

“It will be done.” Helos replied.

“But first, eliminate the rebels.”

“Of course, My Lord.” Helos replied as he turned to face the resistance fighter. The green ring of light in the center of his head flashed red, and there was a flash of light as Helos unleashed a barrage of energy at the resistance fighters. They cried out as the energy reached them, and then they suddenly fell silent as they were engulfed by the attack, and instantly incinerated.

She didn't recognize me!

April couldn't believe it. Peyton had met April Newton less than a week ago, had sat at her desk and spoke directly to her, and yet when she looked at April now, she only saw only the costume and the superpowers. For a moment, April allowed herself to consider the possibility that this double-life thing might actually work. After all, who expected to find Mickey Holtz's assistant flying around and blowing up drones? Even April could hardly believe it, and she was living it. Of course, if she intended to keep living it, she would need to put her game face on. That was just one of many drones; her work was only beginning.

Swooping into action, April first intercepted a pair of drones which were busy shooting up the side of a city bus. With her fist extended in front of her as she flew, she charged up and punched straight through the first drone; bits of metal sprayed against her face and body, harmlessly deflected by the radiation shield she was generating. The second drone wheeled around on her, and April darted to the side to avoid a burst of gunfire. "My turn," she muttered under her breath before releasing a burst of her own. The green energy ripped through the drone like a piñata, which exploded with a satisfying flash. Some heads popped up through the windows of the bus, and April gave what she hoped looked like a confident wave.

"I knew I recognized these things!" Jefferson's voice chirped through the earpiece April was wearing. As she listened in, she took off in the direction of a drone which was peppering an apartment building with small missiles. "Surprise, surprise: it's Zenith tech. They're part of a project called 'Sentinel,'" Jeff continued. The drone fired a missile at the approaching hero; she spun out of the way easily. "They were originally designed for law enforcement -- non-weaponized, strictly surveillance -- but the project was shelved due to public backlash over the 'Big Brother' of it all." The next missile sailed dangerously close to April. She fired back at the drone but scored over a glancing blow. "Eventually, someone had the bright idea to repurpose the tech for military application."

April shot a concentrated beam of energy at the drone. It sliced through the offending device like a hot knife through butter, exposing interiors which glowed orange from the heat. The bisected pieces fell to either side of April's head as she soared upwards through the spot the drone once occupied. "So, do you definitely believe my sabotage theory now?" she challenged Jefferson.

"I'd be a fool not to," he admitted over the line. "Someone's definitely controlling these things remotely. I'm on my way to Zenith now to see if I can backtrace the signal from there. If I get a location, you'll be the first to know. In the meantime--"

April charged up her fists. "Go smash some drones," she finished for him, "Got it." She zoomed down to street level, carving a path through a line of drones which had pinned down some unfortunate CCPD officers. From behind the husk of their destroyed squad car, the cops gave an appreciative -- if perplexed -- look. One of them suddenly shouted something a moment too late; a force slammed into April's back, and she went spiraling to the earth. April felt like she got run over by the Mag-Rail again. When she finally came to a stop, she was covered in shards of glass. She turned in time to see a drone bearing down through the shattered storefront window through which she had fallen.

With a burst of speed, April vacated the spot where she had landed, mere moments before a hailfire of bullets reduced the floor to a pock-marked crater. Raising a hand to blow the offending drone of the sky, April was blindsided by another explosion. A second drone had flanked her position and was preparing again to fire. April hunkered down and shielded herself, the sheath of radiation just barely holding up against the fire of the drone's minigun. One of the bullets leaked through the shield, catching April in the shoulder. She yelped and let off a flash of green light, which stunned both drones.

Taking flight once more, April circled back outside to find a firing line waiting for her. Evidently, whoever was controlling these drones did not take kindly to April's handling of them. As the drones closed in a semicircle around her, she sneered. "Alright, you wanna fight dirty?" she challenged them aloud. "Good, so do I!" Summoning as much energy as she could, she balled her fists and felt her entire body tense. Then, in a sudden release, a wave of destructive radiation erupted in a sphere all around her, blowing the drones away like so much debris. She floated there another moment after, green light pulsing until it gradually faded.

The victory was short-lived. Reinforcements swiftly arrived in the form of more drones. As they shot up at April, she twisted and rolled away from their lines of fire. The drones gave chase, their bullets nipping at the edge of April's cape. She looked back over her shoulder and fired off a series of blasts, only a few of which made any kind of solid connection. Meanwhile, a bullet whizzed frighteningly close to her face, and she jerked away out of instinct.

"April," Jeff chimed in.

"Please tell me you've got that location," April replied, stopping to turn back and square up a shot on one of the drones. As it exploded, its constituent parts showered down on nearby drones, damaging some while knocking others off-course. Still, the mob closed the gap on her. With a huff, April turned skyward with as much speed as she could muster.

Jefferson sighed. "Not yet, no. I'm close, though," he admitted. "But right now, you need to get to City Hall. Every drone which isn't busy chasing you has been redirected that way. Apparently, they've found someone they want dead even more than you..."



Isaac Vance was no stranger to trouble.

Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he had never qualified as "well-behaved." His father, who did not lack for love of his only child, was all too often too busy running a company to discipline his son; and all too willing to let bad behavior slide on the few occasions when he did take an interest in raising Isaac. Even sending Isaac off to the best preparatory schools money could buy did little to curtail his rebellious streak.

It should have come as no surprise, then, that the mischief-maker grew up to become a wanton thrill-seeker as he grew older. Isaac's misadventures with alcohol, drugs, and women heaped mountains of bad publicity on the Vance family name, and he had been involved in more than one physical altercation with the paparazzi who followed in his wake, eager to report on the next great disaster. Only his father's power and influence had kept Isaac from suffering the full consequences of his actions.

Yet, in spite of all that, Isaac had never faced trouble quite like this.

Huddled behind the Mayor's desk, Isaac tried to focus on the laptop he was cradling, rather than the constant barrage of gunfire and shattering glass going on just outside. A spray of bullets punched holes through the hastily closed shutters, peppering the wall opposite Isaac with points of light. Isaac looked up briefly from what he was doing, then turned his eyes back down to the screen in his lap. "Mr. Mayor, you should've told me that your Li-Fi connection was so bad in your office," he offered, watching the browser shudder under the weight of his commands. "I would've gladly had a technician look at it for you."

Mayor Donald Gallagher, for his part, did not share Vance's apparently relaxed state. Pressed to the floor behind his large, green sofa, the older gentleman's face was red and sweaty. Each time there was a new noise from just beyond the windows, he flinched and closed his eyes, anticipating the end which never quite came. He had called Vance down to have a chat about the recent Zenith-related disasters in Century City when the world, it seemed, had gone completely mad. The drones had swarmed City Hall so quickly that there hadn't been time to evacuate, so the two men had holed up in Gallagher's office.

If Isaac noticed the Mayor's terror, he paid it no mind. The truth was that Isaac was scared, too, but fear wouldn't serve their purposes. Instead, Isaac did what he had been doing since his father passed: he threw himself into his work. Isaac wasn't a seasoned programmer or anything, but he possessed more intellect than his checkered past let on, and he had absorbed plenty through sheer osmosis throughout the years. Making use of his administrative privileges, he tried to access the network controlling the drones. His drones, he thought grimly. It was clear now that Isaac was being targeted specifically, and he wondered darkly about the implications therein.

Unfortunately, whoever was behind this plot had anticipated and prepared for possible interference. Despite the fact that Isaac's account should have had ultimate authority, he was still finding himself locked out of his own system. Of course, it didn't help that the poor connection in this office was resulting in high packet loss, putting Isaac at a severe handicap. "Dammit!" he blustered, tension finally boiling over. Slamming the laptop shut, he leaned his head back until he felt the desk's hard surface. "I need to get back to Zenith," he announced suddenly.

Mayor Gallagher looked at Vance as if he had said he needed to get to the moon. "You can't seriously be considering going out there!"

Before Isaac could reply, a missile impacted against the side of City Hall, raining bits of plaster on them both and dislodging a portrait from the wall behind the cowering Mayor. "Well, I certainly don't intend on dying in here," Isaac reasoned, tucking his laptop under his arm. He craned his neck and peered over the top of the desk. "At the rate they're going, I'd say you've got... two minutes before they breach that wall and come to kill you?" He looked back at the Mayor. "Best of luck to you, then."

Not surprisingly, Mayor Gallagher yielded to good sense and followed Vance as he crouch-ran out of the office and into the hall. The lights inside City Hall flickered as it tried to withstand the drones' constant barrage. Past each door down the hallway, Isaac could hear stifled shrieks with every new shockwave. He knew that the only way to protect these people would be to get back to Zenith, access the mainframe, and purge the cyberterrorist's account. With a renewed sense of purpose, he dashed towards the exit, hoping he could find an opening to slip out unseen.

No sooner had they reached the rotunda at City Hall's heart than Isaac was stopped dead in his tracks. The drones had just managed to break through the windows above the balcony, and they were buzzing around the circular room in search of targets -- targets which he and the Mayor had just unwittingly provided. As soon as they were spotted, the drones wasted no time assuming attack positions. Isaac lifted his arms in surrender futilely, knowing full well that this maniac had no intention of taking them alive.

Just then, something bright and green shone through the shattered windows. Isaac shielded his eyes, then watched as a figure flew -- yes, flew -- into the rotunda and began blasting at the drones. They turned their full attention and armaments against the newcomer, but she was too quick for them. Not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, Isaac ducked behind a pillar, pulling Mayor Gallagher by the elbow to get him to do the same. Still, Isaac couldn't stop himself from watching their hero tear through the drones like she was swatting flies.

When the blasting was done, and the hero alone remained, Isaac finally stepped out from his hiding spot and greeted her readily. "Well, well," he began, "I wasn't ready for two surprises today." Now getting his first good look at the girl, he took note of her colorful though peculiar outfit.

"Yeah, well, that's why they're called surprises," the hero answered somewhat unkindly. Whoever she was, it was clear that she held no great love for the Zenith Dynamics CEO.

She'll have to get in line, Isaac mused. "Am I correct in assuming that you're also the girl who saved my train the other night?" Though she didn't answer, her expression told him everything he needed to know. "So then, that's two debts I now owe you."

Isaac sweared that he saw the girl sneer. "Trust me," she said coldly, "I didn't do it for you."

Such contempt was, unfortunately, not unfamiliar to him. He resolved not to take it personally, nevertheless. "That may be, but you have my thanks all the same," he replied. "If there's ever anything I can do for you..."

"Yeah," she said, meeting his gaze at last, "you can keep a closer eye on your company." And without a moment for a retort, she took off, doubtlessly to go save the next person in need.

Odysseus felt entirely out of place waiting in the lobby of the Pacific Point S.P.A.R.K. facility. Whenever the Immortals needed to deal with this organization, one of Odysseus’ other teammates would have come. But considering the circumstances, Odysseus was the only one available to make the drop-in visit. The Son of Osiris was out of the country in Egypt to resort his mystic powers or whatever magical mumbo jumbo he does. Neither Gajana nor Talus were fit for the task, either. Something strange had happened to them and Odysseus had a feeling that this device that Christopher Arthur had sent might help explain what had happened to them. Firefox, on the other hand, had not responded to Odysseus’ calls. Odysseus almost had tried to reach Arachne, but she specifically requested some personal time. She was going to owe him big time for this.

Even though it was well past midnight, the S.P.A.R.K. facility still had heroes filed in and out of the building. It was not as packed as it usually was during the day, but that was reasonable for the time. Odysseus could not stand seeing these heroes, walking about as if they were playing some kiddie game. He even would have wagered money that many of these rookies had never seen any series action before. None of them knew the burden of fighting the good fight.

“Hey, handsome,” a woman’s voice echoed into Odysseus’ ear.

In his annoyance, Odysseus barely tilted his head to see who was trying to annoy him. There stood a young woman dressed in a magical princess outfit. She wore this stupid grin on her face, as if she expected him to be talkative all of the sudden. She obviously did not know him well.

“Go away,” Odysseus mumbled as he tilted his head back to its upright position.

“Oh, come on! I’m looking for a partner to fight some crime tonight," she said as she threw some shadow-boxing punches to show her enthusiasm for crime fighting. "A strong man like you is just what I need!”

“Go,” Odysseus once again repeated himself, hoping the extra gruffness in his voice would make her get the message “away.”

“Party pooper!” the young girl pouted and marched off away. But as soon as she caught sight of a cute boy across the room, her peppy spirit instantly reappeared. Odysseus was just relieved that she was bouncing away from him.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Odysseus sighed before turning his scowl towards this next person. This time, however, it was not another super trying to get him to team-up with them that night, but rather one of the S.P.A.R.K. lab techs. Because of how late it was, the Pacific Point location only had a skeleton crew to man the place. As soon as the lab tech saw the annoyance on the hero’s face, he shrunk away from him, as if he thought that the grizzly man was about to beat him up.

“It’s about time,” Odysseus said once he recognized that this guy worked for S.P.A.R.K. He shifted his weight off the wall on which he had been leaning against. Odysseus towered above the lab tech. This definitely did not help the young man be any less scared of the hero.

“I assume that’s what I’m here to pick up,” Odysseus said as he pointed towards the device that the S.P.A.R.K. lab tech was holding. Yet not a single word escaped from his lips. He only could reach out the device to the hero. His arms shook as he stretched them out in front of him.

“Hey, handsome! Still looking for a partner?” Odysseus heard that magical princess girl spoke from behind his back.

“I already told you. Get the fu—” Odysseus began to say as he turned around. But when he caught sight of the girl standing behind him, he initially thought this was an entirely different person. However, he recognized her face and the design of her costume, although it was slightly different. This girl almost looked like as if someone had photoshopped her face onto a more mature woman’s body. Odysseus blinked several times as his brain tried to comprehend the situation. But he soon turned back to the lab tech and took the device out of his hands.

“I just need to press this button, right?” Odysseus asked the lab tech before turning back to the magical princess girl. The lab tech in turn merely shook his head in agreement.

When Odysseus pressed the button, the screen on the device flickered on. Three dots appeared on the screen, each representing Odysseus, the girl, and the tech. The device indicated on its interface that it was initializing a scan, which did not take long. Almost immediately did the dot representing the girl ping, indicating that the frequency of the atoms in her body did not match the rest of the matter from their universe. Although he did not have much time to dwell on it, because his dot did not change at all, Odysseus knew that at least he was normal, whatever normal was.

“You might want to have this lady checked out,” Odysseus told the lab tech after showing the results from the device. “We might also need a house visit from you guys. I don’t need this gadget to recognize that two of my teammates have been fucked up.”

Before the lab tech could make a response, Odysseus already started to walk away, device in hand. He heard the girl protested against the hapless lab tech as he tried to convince her to allow him to run some more diagnostics. A rare smirk appeared on Odysseus’ face when he heard the girl complained that Odysseus did not have a restraining order against him and the lab tech vainly tried to explain that had nothing to do with anything.

---

“You got to be kidding me,” Odysseus muttered under his breath as he came to a stop on his motorcycle. This was the exact reason why he always took the long way back to the Immortal’s base. What’s the point of a secret base when you let people follow you to the front door? If Talus and Gajana were not affected by whatever was turning people into strange versions of themselves, he probably would have given them an earful once he got inside.

Off the coast of the outskirts of Pacific Point, there lies Ithaca Island, a small, deserted isle. Before the Son of Osiris had recruited Odysseus to the Immortals, he operated his crusade against crime in Pacific Point from a base built underneath the island. Once he was recruited, the Immortals took up shop there. Since then, they instituted a dual authorization to ensure only members of the Immortals to gain access to the base. Initially, each member only required a specific id code to get inside, but once they learned from Arachne that some shapeshift had impersonated her civilian identity, the Son of Osiris incorporated what was essentially a magical identity checker.

Although there were several entrances to this subterranean base, Odysseus had taken a backroad to what looked like a small, abandoned dock. In this location, the dual authorization had been hidden in one of the dock’s wooden posts that lined it. What concerned Odysseus was that the people he had stumbled upon at the dock were examining that exact post, just as if they knew about it. Something seemed familiar about these two, as if he had seen them before.

“God, it would be my luck that all this bullshit would be going down while I’m the only one here,” Odysseus said as he began to connect the dots. He had indeed seen the redhead woman. She was with Arachne back when the Hounds had unleashed those roided out metahumans upon Pacific Point. So that meant that the dude in the scarlet and gray tights was…

When the two superheroes heard Odysseus’ voice, they immediately rotated around to face him. At first, they had taken a fighting stance, just in case a villain had gotten the jump on them. However, when they saw that it was only Odysseus standing there, the two relaxed. The redhead leaned over to the man and whispered something to him. Although Odysseus was still within earshot, he was not sure he heard her right, as she mentioned something about a ‘Peter Tingle’ and why it was not working.

“I don’t know why, but the scanner isn’t recognizing me,” the guy in the scarlet and gray costume finally responded to Odysseus, who at that moment was stepping down from his motorcycle and deploying the kickstand.

“Probably because you have turned into a scrawny-ass boy,” Odysseus answered back. He marched over to the wooden post and grasped it with his hand. As he did this, he ignored the clear irritation that the guy wearing the scarlet and gray tights felt after yet again being mistaken for his girlfriend. He had zero clue how people keep confusing him for Arachne. He was not even a drider! The redhead, on the other hand, just had an amused look on her face.

“Code athanatos beta,” Odysseus uttered. Once these words escaped the hero’s lips, an eerie glow emanated from the wooden structure before vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared.

Identity confirmed. Welcome, Odysseus. A disembodied voice echoed after this small light show had finished. Then, there was movement in the water next to the dock. Out from the dark waters arose a concrete structure. Once all the water had poured back into the sea, the heavy-duty entrance doors slide open.

“You two better wait inside. Some S.P.A.R.K. techs are supposed to come soon, so they can also fix Arachne and turn her back to normal while they’re at it,” Odysseus told the two other heroes on the docks without making any eye contact. Instead, he was heading straight back to his cycle and wheeling it towards the entrance.

“For the freaking gazillionth time, I’m not Arachne!” the man in the scarlet and red costume, that happened to look awfully similar to Arachne’s, if it had been made for a normal human instead of a drider. “How the heck can people keep saying that?”

“That’s exactly what I would expect someone in your state would say,” Odysseus responded while pulling out the device that S.P.A.R.K. had provided him with. He flipped the on switch to the machine and allowed it to do its thing.

“See? This gizmo shows that whatever has been messing with people’s memories and appearances has affected you,” Odysseus remarked before peering down back at the device’s screen. “Oh, and it looks like she’s also affected, too.”

“Wait, what?” the redhead gasped at this unexpected news.

“Hey, don’t be changing the subject,” the guy totally dressed up like Arachne complained, “There’s no way that I’m some weird, gender-bent Arachne!”

“Just get inside,” Odysseus grumbled. All of this was turning out to be too much for him. Why could the Son of Osiris not be the one dealing with this fiasco? Or even Firefox? Odysseus was supposed to be crushing the skulls of the criminal underworld, not baby-sitting strange versions of his teammates from parallel universes!

“It’s impossible! She’s sound asleep back in her apartment. Something strange has also happened to her and I’ve been trying to figure it out all night,” he continued his protest.

“This just keeps getting better and better,” Odysseus sighed. “Well, you two better get inside anyways. Besides waiting for S.P.A.R.K., I need you two to distract the two others who have been fucked up like you while I drown all of this madness out with some liquor. There’s no way in hell I’m playing their Axels and Alleys game with them.”

“You mean Axis and Allies?” not-Boy-Arachne corrected Odysseus.

“And what’s wrong with your buddies?” the redhead asked.

“Besides looking like comic book caricatures of themselves, they also have developed an almost comically ridiculous bias against Communists,” Odysseus answered while continuing towards the entrance. “God damn it, why am I’m the only normal one here. Where the hell is Firefox.”

“Hey, what does the whole anti-communist thing have to do with that board game,” the redhead whispered to the spider-themed hero.

“They’re probably looking for someone to play the Soviets because neither wants to be a commie,” he whispered back with an answer.

---

“I can’t believe you were afraid of this show when you were a kid.”

The television screen displayed the show’s end credits: a black background with white print, nothing unusual besides the green, 90’s era CGI slime slowly oozing down the screen, along with the show’s weirdly upbeat, yet creepy, theme song.

“If my parent’s generation were freaked out by the Flying Monkeys from the Wizard of Oz, I think I had every right to be a little scared of this show when I was five,” Will defended himself to his girlfriend after they had finished marathoning several episodes of the Goosebumps television series. It was almost Halloween and what better way is there to get you into the spirit of the season than the creation of R.L. Stein.

“Sure, you scaredy-cat,” Kyra told her boyfriend with a smile on her face.

The two teenage metahumans had been sitting on a couch in front of the television. Kyra had her nine fox tails wrapped around Will’s back and resting over both of their legs, like a warm, fluffy blanket. The tips of her tail even gave off a faint glow, as they were providing just enough heat to keep the two of them warm without causing the couch, or their clothes, to catch on fire.

Will then reached up with his hand and began to rub gently the back of Kyra’s head, right between her two large, fox ears.

“Stap,” Kyra complained as she recoiled to the feeling she experienced on the back of her head. “Alright, you’re not a scaredy-cat!”

Will immediately stopped and then planted a quick kiss on Kyra’s check. As that was happening, Kyra had pulled out her cell phone to check the time.

“We better get changed. We’re going to have to leave for the Halloween party soon,” Kyra told Will once she saw what time it was. She unraveled her tails that had been covering both of their legs before standing back up. Once on her feet, she tugged up on the jeans she was wearing before heading to her bedroom.

After Kyra had clicked shut her bedroom door, she activated her power nullifier, which caused her fox ears and nine tails to disappear. She then plopped down onto the side of her bed and started to brush her dyed red hair, which she had colored specifically for her costume. Whenever Kyra would switch between her kitsune appearance and her regular self, she would always have to redo her hair, as it lay differently when she has two fox ears crowning her head.

Once she had fixed her hair, she then went to her closet and retrieved yellow jump suit that would have looked awfully plain if it did not also include red gloves and boots that were tipped with orange flames. After Kyra had placed the red mask that went with this costume, she had completed her look. Once dressed, she exited her room and returned to the living room where they had been watching tv just minutes before.

“So, how do I look?”

“Like the hottest girl I know,” Will complemented Kyra, although he seemed quite amused by the pun he had just made.

“Like that one hasn’t gotten old already,” Kyra said as she rolled her eyes.

“Well, you are the girl with fire powers dressing up like a fictional superhero with fire powers,” Will replied.

“Says the boy with spider powers dressed like Spider-Man,” Kyra answered back with a smile, since he was in fact wearing a Spider-Man costume.

“Touché.”

“Thank goodness Matt doesn’t have ice power. That would totally be too obvious,” Kyra told her boyfriend.

As if it happened right on cue, the doorbell rang.

“Speak of the devil,” Will mentioned once he heard the doorbell. “I guess it’s that time.”

“This is going to be a night we’ll never forget,” Kyra muttered before the two of them headed to the front door.

---

Benjamin shut his bedroom door with his side. He shifted to the dresser drawers as he tugged one after another open. His hand snatched his boxers, jeans, and blue tee shirt into its fist. Wasting little time, Benjamin dropped the blanket. He rushed off to the shower to rinse off the clinging remains. About ten minutes later, Benjamin turned off the water and reached for his nearby towel. Dabbing away the droplets, he stepped out onto the tile.

Wrapping up by yanking on his shirt, he looked at himself in the mirror. He paused long enough to shift his bangs back into place. His hand dropped his towel into the hamper while he walked back into the loft turned game room.

His gaze found Athena on the couch and munching a few of the snacks Emma left for them. Awkwardness filled him, but he didn't let it stop him. A few inhales later; he broke the thickness in the air. He stepped out in front of her, blocking the TV screen while he towered over her.

"We need to talk. How did you know what I was?"

Setting aside the snacks, Athena regarded her best friend as he came out of the bedroom, blocking her view of the television. With a sigh, she rubbed the back of her neck, uncertain of how to address this.

"Do you remember when I told you about the car accident I was in? A few years back, that landed me in the hospital?" she asked.

"Yeah," Ben snitched one of the treats before lowering himself into the seat beside her. His eyes observed her as he took a bite, chewing it slowly.

"When I woke up, I found out I had. .. uhm, well," Athena paused, rubbing her hands on her thighs anxiously, "abilities. And, uhm, sometime before that, I had the pleasure of meeting Morrigan." She waited for the information to sink in.

Benjamin's brow arched. He stopped chewing and swallowed his bite, setting the cookie back on the tray.

“Morrigan? Who's that?" He leaned over the edge of the couch.

Athena looked down at her lap, unable to focus on Ben as she would have preferred, feeling a sense of discomfort for being out of her element. "Someone of the Fae, she took me under her wing when I nursed one of her ravens to health. She was my exposure to the supernatural."

He snapped his fingers, the pieces of the puzzle fitting together in his head. "That explains that scent. You're magical, aren't you?"

Benjamin's demeanor relaxed as he leaned back, resting into the corner of the couch. He watched her, waiting for an answer.

She nodded. "Yes, but the accident—I died, and I know I did." Her voice was soft, clutching her hands together in her lap. She was fiddling with her fingers, trying to stave off nerves and anxiety. She hadn't talked about that day in-depth with anyone else aside from one person.

Benjamin frowned. His mouth went dry, and he swallowed to wet it again, his heart still in his chest. His eyes looked hard at her as if trying to register her words. He looked about to say something but closed his mouth.

Athena fell off of the conversation. She became lost in her thoughts regarding the circumstances that surrounded both her death and her grandfather. For a few minutes, she had forgotten she was even in the same room as her best friend and was instead somewhere else altogether, the realization of what happened a surreal experience that she still hadn't fully come to terms with.

"Oh, uhm, yes," she murmured, shaking her head. Her skin was paler than it had been moments ago, a little disheartened, but she forged forward. "But, after that and while I was recovering, I found out I had—well—gained inhuman abilities that made me different. The doctors said I shouldn't have woken up with the injuries I had, but I did anyway. They can only assume that it was a side effect from coming back from the dead."

Her tone was joking, but there was weight to her words that impressed a seriousness in the subject.

Benjamin rose upright and shifted to the bathroom. He strode with a purpose as he disappeared for a moment. Running water sounded brief before it stopped. With a glass in his hand, he returned and held it out to her. After she took it, he settled back into his seat.

"I'm not sure what to say. Sounds pretty terrible." He wished he could offer condolences, but the time had long passed by. It wouldn't help anymore now.

Barron waited. Hearing the conversation turn from Morrigan to the tragic and rather cliche backstories these heroes seemed to have, and the less Ben thought of Morrigan, the less chance he could pick any unease that Barron would have upon entering the room. Duff, however, was just about to bust down the door if he kept him back any longer, and so, with a smile, he entered.

"Benny boy!! Done with your little chat? Because you made adults worry, and I don't want to bend you over and whoop that ass, but I will if I don't understand WHAT The FU&$ happened to you this past week!!?"

Upon hearing the doorknob click and open, Benjamin's head jerked over to it. His eyes widened then lowered into annoyance. Tension tightened across his jawline, but he bit his tongue against the acidic remark blooming in his head. Benjamin inhaled then exhaled.

“Benjamin. And I'm only just starting to recall that. So take a seat, and I'll address it. It's not like you missed much."

Duff edged around Barron and peered at Benjamin, their eyes locked. Immediately, Benjamin got a flood of what Duff had been through since his departure. They both stiffened, and then relaxed. A confused look snapped onto the older man's features as he dragged his feet to the nearest chair.

Athena started, flinching when the door opened, and two strangers barged into the room. One felt, for all intents and purposes, wrong, and the other felt like Benjamin. Another werewolf? But, what wasn't keeping her focus was the other wolf, but rather, it was the man with a loud voice and a feeling that reminded her of death.

Though a little disconcerted, with practiced ease, she hid her expression and shifted to one of bewilderment. She didn't know who these men were, but they knew Benjamin, and in turn, he knew who they were.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"We're Family," Barron said, chuckling. "That's a lie; however, with his Dad, we might as well be. Name's Barron, Barron Vanderbilt. Not that it probably means anything to a squirt like you unless you gamble. And I'll stand, thank you, goldie."

Benjamin rolled his eyes as he faced Duff to speak.

"On the night I vanished, I had a kid around my age mysteriously appear in my room at the hotel. I don't know what ability he had, but he told me he could reverse what happened to me. I asked him to reverse the wounds and he did. And the next thing I know, he opened a portal and I stepped through it. I wound up here without any memories or anything about turning into a werewolf. I didn't recall until Athena asked me what happened within the last two weeks."

He paused for a breath.

"I wolfed out before you came in. I don't know where the kid went or many details. Everything is still pretty fuzzy."

Benjamin waited to see what Duff and Barron thought. His eyes turned to Athena and gave her a small, apologetic smile.

Athena could only give Benjamin a small smile in return, shifting her gaze to Barron and the other wolf in the chair. He honestly gave her the explanation she needed.

Barron slapped Duff's right arm. "I Fu%^ing knew it. SUPERS, always showing up messing with time and space like it's their business. Give a kid a nuke, and he'll call himself Radiation King or some shit." Then, he turned to Ben with a stern look and continued.

"I'll let Duff work out some punishment. Since he's the one teaching you the ropes and the one that's put in mortal danger. Fu%^, I'll probably need to call Joseph too. Ugh. Well, I'll deal with that later. For now, we'll need to figure something out with this kid you met, should he come back; can't have you finally killing Duff now."

"I didn't plan on this happening. I think I irritated him enough that he won't come back."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight, that's for sure," Duff grumbled as he bared his teeth, his eyes flickering a bright golden. But it faded when he settled back into his chair. Benjamin frowned at spotting Duff's fingers digging into the fabric and slightly ripping it.

"Now that you found me, safe and sound, what happens now? Are Daniel and Lorrie still unaware or…" Benjamin trailed off, letting Duff or Barron explain the details.

"Well, the folks are still blissfully unaware. Perks of being me! However, that kid is still my new priority. Supers love getting involved in places they don't belong, so let the adults worry about that. Also, Duff is your Uncle now. Get used to that since that's what the Maid thinks; she's probably fine in the head. Might need a few more aspirins in the morning, but nothing worse than that."

Athena rose to stand, disliking the feeling of vulnerability of remaining seated. While she might not know what was happening, she needed answers to the myriad of questions. "Excuse me," Athena said with a set line in her shoulders. A determination was etched into the edges of her body, although she knows that she should be wary of the man dressed in clothing that was out-of-time with the current fashion.

"This might sound rude of me since I'm interrupting, but how are all of you connected to Benjamin? What did you do to Emma?"

"Ah, yes, the girlfriend speaks up. Well, this might be a long story, but I'm an interested party to all this, so let's cover the basics. Should we have the maid get some snacks, bloody meat, perhaps? I feel we might be here a while."

Benjamin frowned, though, he noted that Duff's head perked up. His expression soured a bit at that.

She was gaining courage as she continued to speak. "First, I'm not Benjamin's girlfriend. Second, I assumed that I'd be in for a story the moment you two stepped through the door." Taking a deep breath, she crossed her arms. "Please, have a seat, Barron, as it seems that you'll be the one to share the story?" She glanced at Duff in question.

Barron smiled. "I do like talking about myself and my interests. So, sure. Besides, Duff's terrible at storytime."

Reaching for a pastry and grabbing a seat, Barron began talking with crumbs falling from his mouth. "So, I'm a Vampire—the kind who doesn't hate sunlight nor garlic. Though I still think it's disgusting, that's beside the point. I prefer to drain my victims dry—their wallets anyway—hence, I run a rather famous Casino. Ben came to my attention quite some time ago when I first met him and his little group back in New York. Back then, he was still a young pup of a werewolf and out for human flesh, thanks to his runaway Alpha causing mayhem."

"Following thus far, or do I need to explain more? Otherwise, I have a longer bit before Ben comes under my wing, well, Duff's wing."

Benjamin's fingers dug into the arm of the sofa. With an exhale, he remained in place. His protective nature was refusing to let him budge.

Athena nodded, wondering when it was that Benjamin was turned, but she returned to her seat next to him. "I am—please continue." There were parts of the story; she was sure Benjamin could fill in himself, but for now, this will suffice.

"Right," Barron said as he checked his phone for any other updates.

"Where was I? Ah, yes, the crazy Alpha. When he turned Ben and was under his control, the boy was a bit wild. I had some fun beating his flesh-eating hungry ass, but I knew I'd need a more permanent solution at some point. I could use a werewolf or two who owed me a favor as there's always something legal they could do for me.

"So when the boy started losing pack members for one reason or another—life is a complicated bi%^ after all—he started to panic losing his shit too and put himself in the hospital. That's when he met his wolf, Doctor Joseph—a hunter of creatures—and me again! This time, I had an offer he couldn't refuse.

"By pulling some strings, I found a pack that owed me and Duff fit the bill to take Benny in so the boy could finally get himself together. There's always something happening in our supernatural community, and it wouldn't do any good if Ben started munching on people. I do have an ulterior motive—a wolf that can sniff magic is a rare breed, but I'll cash that chip in later.

"I think that covers most of it, everything I know and all that matters. Benny boy here can fill in anything I missed."

With all of that in mind, Athena settled with humming in thought. Indeed, as Barron said, if anything was missing, she could always ask Benjamin himself. Without a glance in his direction, she gently bumped her knee against his in reassurance, leaving it there to be hopefully comforted by a touch of warmth.

"So both of them owe you?" Turning to Duff, she tilted her head slightly in question. "And I suspect I'll be seeing you a lot then." And she nodded again with her hand on her chin in thought.

"Then, are you here to take Benjamin back?"

”Me? No, a kid can do whatever he wants, but his parents will start to wonder where he wandered off. And yes, they do owe me—I stacked the deck, and the House always wins, my dear."

Duff inhaled sharply but didn't say much. He just leaned into the chair and watched Benjamin silently sulk in his seat. Without a word, Benjamin pushed up and hopped over the back end of the sofa. He walked to the bathroom for some water and escape.

Athena can't be surprised about Duff, but Benjamin wasn't old enough to gamble. At least, what she's aware of was the legal age here in the States. But, the deal Barron mentioned might have something to do with that.

"Then, why are you here? You could've found out that he was here without flying all the way here from Vegas if that was your intent of just finding out where he went."

"Adults always manage their problems. And I look after my interests, take care of them, mend any issues before they crop up. Something changed Ben, we know that, and I'm not gonna call it in and half-ass my part. You don't run a business by taking shortcuts—you do it by murdering your competition and ensuring your employees and assets are protected. Speaking of protected..."

Barron sitting back his left arm, draped over the couch as he pondered what would need to be done regarding Ben's parents. "I suppose something will need to be done with the folks, can't have them realizing their son is gone. Perhaps I'll get them tickets to an adult show some comedy act or another after-hours event so they'd have a reason to send their kid back and make it easier to mess with their memories. Anyways, I'll figure that out."

Unknown Planet

There was an air of dread around him. The world a shattered, ruined place. He wasn’t on Earth, but the way the buildings looked with their high-rise structures, residential complexes, and parks. It looked almost like the alien species took notes from Earth’s cities and made a strange and altered copy of it in their own design. And had he known of this place before, he knew he would have visited it to see the way these aliens put their mark on such universal building designs.

But now that potential dream was gone. Everything around him was in ruin. Smoke towered into the sky, distant fires flared, and ash fell in lazy swarms. And the sky above them, an angry red.

Hood couldn’t help but wonder what he’d walked himself into. Was this the sorcery that he’d felt? So strong that he was able to feel it all the way from earth… and the sheer destruction, the sheer power needed to have caused this devastation.

Perhaps it would have been better for him had he stayed on Earth, to see what he was going into, to survey before plunging in headfirst. But, there was no use in thinking like that now, not when he was already in the ruined city. What he needed to be worried about was the one who caused this. What if they were still here. Was he even capable of taking someone like that on? He knew he was powerful, and although his powers were relatively new, he'd gotten quite used to them. Knew how to handle himself in a tough situation. But this. Questions after questions passed through his mind as he looked around, and he started feeling his heart beating faster in his chest. The hairs at the back of his neck standing on end.

And in front of him was that strange, old man with the sorrowed look. Hood approached warily, adding and weaving defences around himself as he reached out with his sorcery to feel if the man was possibly behind the destruction. He didn’t think it likely, but he knew better than to trust the authenticity of the man without first checking.

He felt nothing. Which was some slight relief, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t the cause. He knew of ways one could hide their magical essence, shield it off from being sensed. A skill that one who could have caused this destruction would have easily been able to do, but regardless it was a start. Didn't mean he would take down his defences, a trusting face didn’t mean the man wasn’t malicious.

Taking a few seconds to look around some more, he reached out again to try and see if there was any traps as he approached closer, and felt nothing but the residual essence of sorcery from the destruction he’d felt before.

Letting out a slight sigh of relief, Hood stopped in front of the blue-skinned man. The shadows in his hood swimming in inky blackness. “What happened here?” He asked, his voice augmented. Deepened.

The man shook his head and looked down, saying nothing for a long minute. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice cracked and feeble. Hood’s sorcery allowing him to understand this species’ language almost instantly. “I woke up to the sky tearing, and a blast that took the city. Destroyed everything and everyone.”

“This blast, did you see where it came from?”

The old man pointed to a large hexagonal building with a ruined garden spreading out from its base. The walls crumbled and spilling out in all directions and showing what looked to be a library within. The few shelves he could see toppled on top of each other, with caved in floors and exposed metal skeleton between thick layers of cement.

“Are you sure it was there?” Hood asked.

The old man nodded. “Everyone ran from that building. Ran from it as fast as they could, screaming. Rushing past. That’s when I woke up. And that’s when the sky tore and…”

Hood put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “What is your name, friend?”

“Kapbury.”

“Very well, Kapbury. I will avenge you and your city. End the one who has brought this destruction to you.”

The old man simply nodded and sat down in the dust, and lay on his side. Weeping silently.

Another day, another uneventful patrol, Riley thought to herself. It was rather nice out, maybe criminals went to the beach on warm days too.

Floating down from the sky onto the edge of a building, she sat with her legs dangled over the precipice, retrieving a sandwich from her rucksack. Technically it was for the space mission, vacuum sealed against the harshness of a deadly vacuum and a delicate bit of equipment that shouldn't be used lightly, but it made a great carrying case for snacks so she didn't have to keep spooking hot dog vendors. Taking a big bite, Voyager chewed thoughtfully as she kept an ear out for any trouble.

"Voyager-sama, your fate will be sealed!"

Riley stopped chewing at the sound of her superhero name. Turning around, a familiar figure seemed to be striking various poses on the extreme opposite end of the rooftop. Luckily the threats weren't directed at her, but some sort of person-sized prop perched on the corner. Curious, Riley quietly walked up to the ninja-like figure.

"I strike with the fury of a thousand storms, I move with the swiftness of a thousand winds," Typhoon chanted, continuing his vaguely martial artsy posing. "Through superior discipline and unerring skill, I shall be your downfall, for I am like a tiger, poised with unwavering grace-"

"Hiya Typhoon!" Riley said brightly patting him on the shoulder.

"BAKA CHIKUSHO!" Typhoon jumped a foot in the air and attempted to draw a throwing star before stepping off the edge and dropping into the alley below, landing with a distinctive thump in the dumpster.

"You okay down there?" Riley asked, looking down at the unlucky robot.

"Dame, Voyager-sama, for my dignity lies in tatters..." Riley looked over at the object Typhoon was speaking too, which appeared to be an old training dummy with a facsimile of her own head attached made from what appeared to be cooked pasta. Didn't look half bad, she thought.

"I can give you a lift if you need one!" Riley called down.

"Muri, I could never accept help from my greatest nemesis!" Typhoon shouted back, clambering out of the dumpster and up the wall.

"Just thought I would offer," Riley shrugged, taking a bite of her sandwich. "I figured-" she started to say, but a low-pitched rumble caught her attention. Typhoon caught up to the edge of the building just as something bright orange streaked through the sky.

[color=MediumOrchid]"Whoah, check it out!" Riley said. "It must be a meteor! And it is...awfully close." The two watched the orange streak sail through the sky, arcing gently down and slamming into the ground a few blocks away with a mighty crash, making them both flinch. "I take that back, NOW it is awfully close," Voyager said, floating back into the air. "I gotta go check it out and make sure no one's hurt. Truce?"

Typhoon nodded solemnly. "It is as you say. I shall assist." Riley smiled, glad that despite being a supervillain the ninjabot was willing to help out once in a while. Putting on a brave face, Voyager took off in the direction of the smoldering meteor, Typhoon leaping across the rooftops to follow at a far slower pace.

Luckily upon arrival, the object seemed to miss any bystanders, cleaving the asphalt in two as it landed instead. Already a small crowd was gathering to observe what it was that landed in the smoldering heap.

"Everyone clear away from the space rock!" Voyager ordered, coming to land near the tear in the street.

"It's not a rock, Voyager," an old man nearby said. "Look!"

Voyager looked at the rock, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. It wasn't a rock at all, she realized. Rocks weren't made of metal and shimmering glass made into angular shapes, nor did they have the remnants of engines and wings still attached to the hull.

This...this was a space ship!

"Ooh, it's like a first contact thing!" Voyager said excitedly. "Maybe it'll be Vulcans, that'd be cool! Don't worry everyone!" Voyager shouted to the crowd. "Stay back, I'll handle this!"

Suddenly a hiss of steam sounded from the broken hull of the ship, and a side panel slid open. A humanoid figure seemed to clamber out of it, collapsing onto the ground making metallic sounds that might have been coughing. Voyager took a cautious step forward, getting a better look at the newcomer. Whoever it was, or whatever it was, it wasn't Spock. It appeared to be made of...crystals of some sort? Weird.

"Hello!" Voyager said brightly. "Welcome to Earth!"

The crystal being looked up, having no facial features beyond bright spots in the general shape of eyes. Upon seeing Voyager, the crystals seemed to glow brighter and the being got to her feet.

"Nov, ao enero os!" it...said? The sound didn't seem to come from the creature, instead playing inside of her head somehow. Spooky.

"I'm sorry, was that you?" she asked. The crystal creature looked confused and tried to approach, her arms held out. Voyager took a step back and the creature stopped.

"Ihhereo? Anhi ime gdelaco, ttoem! ironus hu parues tatomfece etosem?" The crystal creature patted her hands against her chest to signify herself.

"I...can't understand you," Voyager said, confused. A hard landing behind her indicated that Typhoon had arrived, sword drawn.

"Styca kitataen?" the crystal creature asked. "Adtedwoi, tatcasu dise uicu etercete!"

"Unknown language," Typhoon said with a sudden dryness, his databanks kicking on. "Performing translation, please hold." Great, Voyager thought, hoping this creature wasn't hostile.

"Look, I don't know what you're saying, but I think my friend is translating for you, just...don't panic, okay?" Voyager hoped it came through, but the crystal alien didn't seem to respond, instead reacting with...worry, maybe?

"Enome imate?" the creature said, pointing at the back of her neck. "Luc lomoeca elferi hehuseh etarmor!"
Voyager could do nothing but stare blankly as the creature continued to gesticulate, pointing between her own neck and Voyager's.

"I...don't know what that means." Voyager shrugged, and the crystal creature looked alarmed.

"Sybet...nemebedohf iamasnanes yl. Hui ela ite ugochin..." The crystalline alien shimmered. Voyager tried to approach but was stopped by a splitting headache.

"Aaagh!" she said, gripping the sides of her head in agony. "What did you...?"

"Rdorecy! Selo pitelli, tkonelil me!" the alien shimmered again. And immediately, Voyager's surroundings went dark.

The crowd screamed and ran as their alien superheroine collapsed in a heap, seemingly dead. The crystal creature cautiously approached, poking the unconscious Riley with her toe just as the ninja robot sprang to life.

"Language analyzed, translation achieved!" Typhoon became himself again and turned to face the crystal alien. "ifaha roseatul, eodeheta rase ediesa-"

"Iawo eelner rensi sunasulo?" the crystal creature suddenly said.

"Hai," Typhoon said. "Mweer efolol as enlal nuhe itatat."

"Iannisevge, mfigawelc rdorecy selo! Pitelli tkonelil, me genut ad dewer eheseb! Onily er yt derat iond seweitod fenocve etd!"

Typhoon paused, comprehending what the alien was saying. "Alidad ostico?"

The crystal creature nodded. "Idwuf del. Tohe dynaimta raaho nofesa, ihysa efedm uhryrm. Ogur, eohaa rhrene alohn."

Typhoon pondered for just a moment. "Ofrehesy, sun ulgar huroten. Aabowegt nehos ewit bapi vulirfosag."

"...Atuaroni dafothas, hhiyr dinihoic," the crystal creature said as it picked Riley up. "Ycihc tiregorh ihnur eseeh?"

"Tteratoro," Typhoon said, activating his communication relay. "Fang-sama, where are you?" A low grumble came from the other end of the line. "Fang-sama!"

"It's fuggin noon, you dumb toaster, I'm trying to SLEEP!" Fangs barked. "Whaddaya want?"

"Voyager-sama is in grave danger. We must assist as best we can."

"Mr. Black" was growing increasingly frustrated. From his hidden command center in the heart of Century City's Bayside district, he watched as his drones continued to deplete at an alarming rate. Worse yet, Vance had escaped the execution he so rightly deserved... All because of that damned Good Samaritan in the red cape. His loathing for her was beginning to rival that which he reserved for Vance alone. No matter how many drones he seemed to throw at her, she just kept coming. Eventually, something had to give -- and if the dwindling number of active drones was to be believed, it would be him.

An alarm screamed from the screen to his left. Mr. Black snapped his head around, eyes widening as he consulted the flashing red text. Proximity alert. "No, no, no, no," he repeated to himself, panicked. Turning his attention back to the main screen, he rapidly cycled through the few remaining drones' camera feeds. Their numbers had thinned enough that it didn't take long to consult them all. Hoping he had merely missed what he was looking for, he went back for a second pass. Still no luck. "Where are you?" he muttered under his breath, his tone a potent mixture of annoyance and concern.

"Here," came a voice behind him.

Mr. Black whirled to face the intruder. She stood -- no, floated -- just a few meters away, arms folded across the radioactive system emblazoned on her chest. He reached for the revolver which sat next to his keyboard, the one he had never dreamed he would have to use. With a shaky grip, he brought the gun to bear on the hero. At the same instant, her eyes glowed a bright green, and a beam of concentrated energy shot out, scalding his hand and sending the weapon to the floor with a clatter. Mr. Black clutched his fist, wincing.

Before he had time to react, she surged forward to close the gap between them. Grabbing him roughly by the collar of his shirt, she lifted him out of his chair and held him aloft. "Now," she began, voice steady yet firm, "you're going to shut it down."



Space was always at a premium in Mickey Holtz's cramped office, but even more so on days like today when it was "all hands on deck" at the Chronicle. The beleaguered editor, though never renowned for being abundantly patient, did his best to remain calm though the revolving door of writers, editors, and photographers vying for his attention. Everyone implicitly understood that news days like this came around once in a decade -- maybe once in a lifetime -- and so they were all working hard to ensure that tomorrow's edition would be the best it could possibly be.

Amidst the chaos, a somewhat flush April stepped into Mickey's office, clutching an article. Looking up from a layout of photos of the destruction downtown, the editor-in-chief eyed her for a moment before turning his attention back to the copy editor standing by his side. "The first and the third one," he instructed, handing the photos back. "Thanks." There was a weariness to his voice which suggested he had been at this for hours already. Once the other editor left and they were alone, Mickey finally acknowledged her. "You've brought me something?"

"A profile of the saboteur," April explained, holding out the article to him.

Mickey raised an eyebrow. Taking the papers gingerly, almost as though he expected them to burst into flame at any moment, he donned a pair of reading glasses from his desk and began to skim the article. For a few excruciating moments, neither his expression nor the subtle "hmm"s he kept making gave any indication as to his overall impression of the piece. Upon reaching the second page, he removed his glasses and leaned against the back of his chair. Finally looking up at her, he asked, "How did you get this?"

April straightened, swallowing. "I followed your advice: I pursued the truth," she answered simply. "After the derailment, I started to believe that someone was targeting Zenith Dynamics. I couldn't rule out corporate sabotage, but the manner of the attacks made it believe it had to have come from the inside, from someone with intimate knowledge of Zenith's security protocols. So, I started looking into recent firings, looking for someone who might hold a grudge."

Mickey said nothing. He merely watched her give her pitch, his face a mask of emotion.

"That's how I found this man, Carl Stromby," April continued. "Former programmer. He was dismissed from the company in October for undisclosed reasons. I started asking around..." She paused, interrupting herself, "I know, I know. You told me to stay away from Zenith. But you also told me to be tireless in my pursuit, so that's what I did." Clearing her throat, she went on, "Anyway, it turns out that Carl was caught spying on a coworker. He had written a script which gave him access to her emails, even the texts on her work phone... She declined to press charges, but Carl was thrown out all the same. And since Zenith held all the patents to his projects, he was left with nothing."

It was true, all of it. The only embellishment April had made was to suggest that she had been investigating Stromby before his arrest. But, she supposed she could be forgiven for fudging the timeline a bit if it kept her and Jefferson's involvement in Stromby's capture out of the headlines. She had offered to acknowledge Jeff in her article, but they both agreed against it; after all, the odds were good that they'd need a man on the inside of Zenith again, if this "superhero" arrangement was to become a recurring thing.

What Mickey said next almost flattened April. "I'm impressed." She felt a surge of pride which was only slightly dampened when he added, "The writing itself could use work, of course, but that's still damn good reporting, Newton." He bellowed, "Gerri!" and another assistant came rushing into the office. He passed the article to her, saying, "Get one of the editors to look this over, punch it up a bit. I want to run it below the main story."

April could scarcely believe what she had heard. "Wait, you're actually going to print my article?"

He looked around. "You see anyone else handing me a profile on the suspect? We're here to report news, kid, and this is news." Gerri dutifully took the article and scurried off, while Mickey warned, "Before you get too excited, you're splitting the byline. Your writing's not front page ready on its own."

The revelation did little to sour her mood. Beaming with excitement, April replied, "Thank you, Mickey! This means the world to me." Without being able to stop herself, she threw her arms around the editor, squeezing perhaps a bit too tight for her newfound strength.

"Alright, okay," Mickey said somewhat uncomfortably. Though he didn't fully return the hug, he did give her a supportive pat on the back. After a moment, they separated, and Mickey seemed a lot more relaxed. "For the record, I never doubted that you had what it takes," he offered.

April furrowed her brow. "Then, why didn't you let me cover the Zenith story in the first place?"

He sighed. "Because when I hire someone, I do my research," he explained. Softening, he said, "April, I know about your father. I lost my dad when I was young, too; I know the effect that has on a person. So, yeah, I worried that you might be too close to Zenith to see things clearly. I didn't want to risk that you'd let a personal bias color your journalistic instincts."

April nodded. "I understand." Hearing that his decision hadn't been an indictment of her abilities was a bit of a relief. And truthfully, she couldn't deny that she had gone into Zenith hoping to dig up some dirt.

"Good. Now," he continued, stopping to check his watch, "it seems to me that it's almost time for the content meeting. If you're serious about this, then I guess you'd better sit in on this one."

She beamed.



Mickey stood at the head of the conference table, arms folded and fiddling with a remote. Once the assembled editorial & writing staff had finished filing into the room, he cleared his throat loudly and said, "Alright, I think we all know what we're dealing with here." Clicking the remote, he turned to face the projector on the wall behind him. A picture of Century City's new superhero appeared, hovering in mid-air as she artfully fended off one of Stromby's killer drones. The composition of the piece was impeccable.

April blushed at the sight of the photograph, praying that no one would recognize her in Jeff's getup. Suddenly, being surrounded by some of Century City's brightest, most observant minds didn't feel like such a smart place to be. Fortunately, it seemed she was just as invisible now as she had been when she slinked into the conference room. To be safe, she shrank back further against the far wall.

Peyton, who had taken the picture, smiled proudly.

"Century City has never had a dedicated superhero before, so I shouldn't need to tell you that this is a big deal," Mickey announced. "I can tell you from experience that a story like this comes around once in a decade, maybe even once in a career. And what we have here--" He shook the remote at them for emphasis. "--is a chance to control the story. We were the first to report on the derailment, and we'll be the first on this. We get to stake our claim, so... what do we call her?"

April stiffened. Somehow, she liked the idea of her superhero name being decided in committee even less than just letting Jeff pick it.

"Radioactive Girl?" a junior reporter offered.

April cringed. Fortunately, Mickey was equally repulsed by the suggestion. He waved it off. "No."

"Atomica!" came an enthusiastic cry from the other side of the room.

Mickey frowned. "Better. Still don't like it," he admitted.

April could bite her tongue no longer. Stepping forward, she asked in a somewhat shaky voice, "Shouldn't we consider that maybe this person would like to have some input on her own name?"

The editor's expression told her everything she needed to know. "Well, gee, April, I hadn't thought about that," he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, "And I trust you know how to get a hold of her before the publishing deadline, right? If she has an opinion on our decision, she's free to come down here and voice it in person... if she agrees to an exclusive, of course." He turned his attention back to the room at large. "What else ya got?"

The suggestions flowed freely now.

"Fission!"
"Radiatrix?"
"Nuclear Lass!"
"The Atomic Woman!"
"Ion?"

April could take no more. Eventually, one of these awful suggestions was going to stick. She might as well try hers. Sighing, she thought, Jeff's never gonna let me live this down. Clearing her throat, she waited until she had every eye in the room. "What about... ?"

---

“Are you ready Miss Winstone?” A voice called from behind Alexa as she stared out of the window of her office inside Winstone International.

While the building did not provide the view of the city that was afforded those in the higher levels of the Chambers or the Midas Industries buildings, her office still provided a grand view of the East Side of Lost Haven. As she looked out over the city, she thought of all the good that she had done, both in her role at Winstone International and as the masked hero Radiance. She also thought of all the good that she would do in the future, and what that would mean to the people of this city. One of the initiatives that she was undertaking was the subject of the press conference that she had called today. It was a small step, an opening salvo in the war against homelessness within the borders of Lost Haven, and secretly she hoped, would prove to be a template to eliminate the scourge from the entire country.

“Miss Winstone?” The voice called again, this time it was more of a plea. “Ma’am, they’re ready for you. The press conference begins in five minutes.

“Oh, sorry Tina. Yes, I’ll be right there.” Alexa said with a hint of surprise in her voice, almost as if she had been suddenly pulled from a daydream.

Alexa took several moments to gather her thoughts, then looked to the note cards that she had prepared for the speech, and after a moment of contemplation, she left them on her desk. She didn’t need them, she knew what she wanted to say. It was one thing to go out day after day to fight off the Dr. Diplodocs and the Hounds of Humanities of the world, but did any of that really matter if the most vulnerable members of our society are constantly overlooked and left to fend for themselves? Realizing that time was getting short, Alexa glanced at her watch.

12:57 PM.

“Alright, it’s showtime,” Alexa said to herself as she left her office and made her way to the elevator, which would bring her to the press conference which had been set up outside on the front steps of Winstone International.

---

Alone in a room, several computer monitors flashed in various places. Each screen, black panels that hold the LED screen in place, flashed various points on a map. With most of the screens seemingly going through complex algorithms to find something, one had bullet-point notes and two images. One of the images was an international company profile picture of a brunette woman with two words underneath it: ALEXA WINSTONE.

Rumors reached the underworld grapevine that one of the senior figures of Winstone International, Alexa Winstone, was to give a press conference. As the lone figure, hunched towards the screens to examine the screen with Alexa’s profile. They studied every word of the business woman's profile down to the individual letter, getting to know the specifics.

It was then that the figure’s dark blue eyes shifted slowly from Alexa to the second picture. The image was of a man with black hair and blue eyes. His shoulders suggested a muscular physique. Much like Alexa’s profile, the man also had a profile attached to the image and two words underneath the image: SCOTT HUNTER.

Before the figure could examine the profile of Scott, the other screens began to flash. Turning away to see the other screens, they confirmed their suspicions. On each of the maps on the seven screens, red flashes pinged on the screens. Each screen had one red outline, indicating a building location the algorithm was determining for some mysterious variable. The figure’s eyes scanned at the locations and stood up from the chair. Then, in one fluid motion, the figure motioned to walk out the door. A minuscule moment later, the figure vanished from the room.

---

Scott Hunter moved among the crowd that had gathered in front of Winstone International in anticipation of Alexa’s press conference in which she would announce her new initiative to combat homelessness in the city. As he looked at the large crowd that had gathered, pride swelled up within him. For all that he had done, not just for this city, but for the entire world, this just felt different.

Alexa had been very excited about her plan when she had first told Scott about it, and he shared her excitement. Now, as he stood amongst the crowd that had come to hear her speak, a whole new excitement began to take hold.

He was excited for her. He knew just how much this meant to her, and to see this many people come out to support her vision, or at the very least, hear her out, gave him a new optimism not only for Alexa’s project, but for the future.

There was a sudden movement at the front entrance to Winstone International, and Scott could see a small entourage make their way from the glass doors at the front of the building to the podium which had been set up right at the top of the granite stairway leading to the Winstone International headquarters. There was a momentary hush that fell over the crowd, before being replaced by a slight buzz as Alexa took the podium.

From his place in the crowd, he looked up to his love, and almost as if by some kind of extra sensory magnetism, she found him among the throngs in the crowd. They locked eyes, and exchanged smiles before she turned her attention to the crowd at large and began to speak.

---

Click.

On a building site in Lost Haven, one floor down from the top, the lone figure studies the single bullet in the clip. Satisfied that the bullet would be enough to do the job, the clip is loaded into an Accuracy International AX50 sniper rifle.

Snap! Chkchk!

With the gun now loaded, the figure turned to the radio that was placed near the rifle. With a deft hand, the radio starts ringing out of the speakers into the abandoned building site. The voices were audible, talking about the upcoming press conference Alexa Winstone was giving and that it was about to begin.

Then, slipping the futuristic lenses of the goggles over their eyes, the figure shoulders the rifle. In position and ready to fire, the crosshair hovers over a speaking Alexa.

---

Alexa was almost taken aback by the size of the crowd that had come out to hear what she had to say. Reporters from a number of local and national news outlets were among those in the crowd, as was Scott, who she was glad to see hadn’t been delayed by some Earth shattering catastrophe somewhere halfway across the world.

You’ve made it to the big time Girlie, don’t blow it now. she thought to herself as she stepped up to the podium. As she looked out at the crowd who were eagerly anticipating what she had to say, for a brief moment a wave of panic began to creep over her. She had never really been one for public speaking, however, she reminded herself of the things that she had seen and done in her time as a superhero, and she managed to force that panic back, and with a clearing of her throat, she leaned into the microphone which was mounted to the podium and began to speak.

“Thank you all for coming.” Alexa began. “I know that you’ve all been wondering why I called this press conference, so unlike my father, I won’t keep you in suspense.” She said, eliciting some laughter from the gathered press.

“We have a major problem in Lost Haven. However, this problem is not just an issue for our city, it is a blight all across this country. It is a problem that up until now, very few people have come together to eradicate.” Alexa said, her voice raised slightly as she spoke.

“Until Now.” She let her words hang in the air for a moment before continuing.

“It seems as if no matter where you go, this problem is there, looking you in the eye. However, because it doesn’t directly impact some of us, we choose to ignore it, hoping that it will move on and be someone else’s problem. But I have come before you today to say, ‘no more.’” Alexa paused for a beat.

“In Lost Haven, and around the country, for too long we have ignored the plight of our most vulnerable citizens. Though some efforts have been made to legislate the symptoms, nothing has been done to cure the problem. For too long, far too many people have been living their lives day by day, meal to meal, from shelter to shelter with no way forward. Today, I am here to announce that Winstone International is changing that. Today I am here to announce that Winstone International, under my direct supervision is going to be introducing a new initiative to eliminate homelessness in Lost Haven, and it is my dream, that once this initiative proves successful, that it becomes a model nationwide to eradicate homelessness altogether.” Alexa said with conviction, as if all the nerves that she had been feeling prior to coming to the podium had simply washed away, her passion for the initiative was unmistakable.

“We will be addressing the issue with a two pronged strategy. First, we will be developing housing for the homeless currently living within the city. We have recently purchased the property on which the former Silver Galleria Mall stood. We will be rebuilding and renovating that structure, and converting it into dormitory style housing. We are also building a tiny house community on property owned by Winstone International, for additional housing.” Alexa was cut off by applause.

“We will also be providing educational opportunities, counciling, as well as occupational workshops for the residents of these facilities. It is our hope that with these programs, as well as networking opportunities that we hope to provide, we can give these people the resources they need to turn their circumstances around.”

---

The radio echoed through the building site with the words that came from Alexa’s lips. The talk of eliminating homelessness, while admirable, is a foolhardy pipedream. Not only would changing the circumstances of the unfortunate to pick them back up, but a change in society was needed in order to stop those people from falling again. It was the conglomerates such as Winstone International, Midas Industries and the like to give those opportunities to the less well-off people of society. Something like that could not be done. At least, that was what the lone figure concluded while listening to the speech.

As the press conference carried on, the figure hovered the scope of the rifle over the crowd. With pinpoint focus, it hovered over one individual in particular. The figure mused that this must be Scott Hunter, the man that was deduced as the hero Icon, with the puppy dog look of admiration up at Ms Winstone. The figure grunted with disdain at the sight before focusing back on Alexa once more, finger now moving to touch the trigger.

With a steady squeeze, seemingly with a mysterious force, seven thunderous claps from seven buildings around Winstone International erupted into the air. As with the surprise of the shot, seven figures were struck down with the bullets of seven rifles. The targets’ fates were unknown, but the resulting message was clear as the figure stood away from the rifle and stared in the direction of Icon.

---

As Alexa spoke about the challenges facing the people who were affected by the blight of homelessness not only in Lost Haven, but all over the country, the crack of gunfire split the air. Multiple shots rained down on the crowd that had gathered for the press conference.

From his spot in the crowd, Scott watched in horror as Alexa was suddenly and violently jolted backward as one of the rounds pierced her flesh. With every fiber in his being, he wanted to leap skyward and fly to where she now laid on the makeshift podium bleeding out. He knew that doing so would not only expose him as Icon, but it would also expose Alexa, and put everyone that he loved in danger.

There was a part of him that didn’t care. All he wanted was to get to Alexa’s side as fast as possible. However, despite this, he was able to maintain his composure as he pushed his way through the crowd to get up to where Alexa lay. He walked past several lifeless bodies which laid sprawled on the ground, each one had been shot. As he took the final torturous steps up the front stairs to where the podium had been erected, his imagination began working in overdrive, and when he finally got to Alexa, who was laying just behind the podium, he imagined the worst.

Before he reached her, he looked just beyond her, and found her assistant, Tina, laying just feet from Alexa, a bullet had pierced her skull between her eyes. The young woman had just completed an internship at Winstone International, and Alexa had taken quite a liking to the young woman, and hired her as her personal assistant. Scott had met her several times himself, and always was impressed with the young woman’s resolve to do her job better than anyone. He had liked the girl, and he would make whoever had done this pay.

Relief washed over him as he knelt down at Alexa’s side and found that she was alive. The bullet had hit her just under the right clavicle. Though she was in pain, she would live. As relieved as he was, something told him that this was just the beginning. As he kneeled at her side, putting pressure on the wound, he looked around the area looking for a clue as to who could have done this. He looked through the crowd almost as if by instinct. However, given the angles of the shots, he knew that the attack had come from above.

He scanned the rooftops of the nearby buildings and found no sign of the assassins. However, he did notice something in a nearby building almost directly across from the Winstone International building. Standing in a window on the 14th floor he could see a hooded figure in all black, save for a pair of goggles that glowed in a purple hue. The figure was staring directly at him, almost as if trying to make it known that this figure was watching him.

“Sc...Scott?” Alexa said weakly.

“I’m here babe. I’ve got you.” Scott told her, his voice cracked slightly as he took his eyes off of the hooded figure and locked his gaze on his fallen love.

“Go.” She said. “Get the son of a bitch.”

With that, Scott looked back up to the window, only to find that the hooded figure had vanished.

---

The figure watched as chaos erupted on the plaza below. Remaining unmoved by the chaos, the figure remained where they were, staring at the podium that Scott Hunter seemed to climb up on stage to tend to Alexa. While the other people’s fate were undetermined, they made sure that Ms Winstone was alive to drive the upcoming message home.

Then, as if they knew, the eyes of Scott and the figure locked onto each other. While the mask and goggles didn’t betray anything underneath, the intent of the gaze wove the message in.

3…

Slowly, the figure took a step back, away from where the rifle was. From the distance, the figure saw the quarry look back at his beloved.

2…

The figure’s diminutive frame slowly sank back into the umbra of the building site. Parts of the body that had merged with the shadows dissolved into nothing, as if becoming one with it. It was then, under the cover of the mask, the figure smirked.

1.

Taking the final step back, the figure vanished into the shadows. Their presence was gone. The rifle, left behind by the figure, remained on its perch. The only other thing that remained was a single sheet of paper, rooted in place by the butt of the rifle.

---

As security rushed the podium to lock down the area, Scott, doing as Alexa had suggested, slipped away from the chaos. He moved through the crowd and down an alley next to a nearby building. He took a glance around to make sure that he was alone. Once he was satisfied that there were no people or cameras in the alleyway, he tapped the nanite activation switch on his bracelet. The nanites quickly covered his arm, then spread over his entire body, until he stood there in the familiar costume of the masked hero, Icon. The entire process took only seconds, however, he had precious few of those to waste. He needed to get up to that window and get the monster that had done this. So he lifted off from the alleyway and raced to the window that he had seen the hooded figure.

Crashing through the window, Icon immediately saw that he was alone. Whoever had done this was long gone. Most likely, escaping just after he had locked eyes with the assassin. Furious, Icon began looking around the room, desperately hoping that the shooter had simply hidden somewhere inside the room. Unfortunately, Icon soon realized that this was not the case. Whoever the shooter was, they were gone.

”DAMMIT!” Icon spat venomously as the realization that this murderer had escaped him. Then, something caught his eye. A piece of paper tucked under the butt of the rifle. Icon went over to the weapon and removed the sheet of paper, and upon inspection, he realized that it was a note.

A note for him.



A cold shiver ran down his spine as he read the content of the note. Then, something suddenly became crystal clear. The hooded figure who had done this was staring at HIM after the shooting. He had assumed that the assassin had been admiring his handiwork, however, it was clear now that this was not the case. He was letting Scott know that this was all a message.

A message for him.

Somewhere out there, someone had somehow figured out who he was. They had just declared war on him, and they wanted him to know that no one in his life was safe.

---

In a room, the TV blared out the news of the recent shooting that marred the Winstone International press conference. Banners on the bottom of the TV state that in total, 4 people were killed and that Alexa Winstone was injured. Besides that, not much information was revealed about the work Anput had done. Watching the TV, Dullahan watched with the glowing red eyes. He knew of Icon’s identity through Anput and with the message sent, a wicked smile crept across his face as he motioned to move a chess piece on the board in front of him.

”Your move, Icon.”

Aubrey splashed a handful of water into her face. She did not know whether she was trying to snap herself out of her sleepy grogginess or out of the bizarre dreams she had experienced the past night. When she looked up at the mirror, she saw the water running down her face, along with her long locks of blonde hair that were curling around her head in every direction. How much caffeine did she have last night? Was what she saw in her dream some sort of caffeine-induced nightmare? But why did the lives of those other Aubreys feel so real?

She filled her palms again with water and splashed her face again. After Aubrey wiped down her face with a hand towel, she turned her attention to taming her hair. She first ran her fingers through her hair and pulled it back into one, long ponytail. Then, with one hand holding the ponytail together, Aubrey transferred scrunchie from wrist onto her hair with her free hand. Her hair still looked like a mess, but she could fix it later.

Once Aubrey was through with fixing her hair and trying to snap herself out of the haze of just waking up, she exited to the bathroom and headed towards the kitchen, although fitting through the doorway with her arachnid physique was not simple task, as the frame was not designed with her frame in mind. She managed it, but it was not as simple as walking through the threshold.

When she opened the refrigerator door and reached in for some orange juice, she paused when she noticed that there was a six pack of bottled pop sitting inside the refrigerator. For a moment, Aubrey was befuddled by the presence of these drinks, as she knew that she was all out of the caffeinated beverage when she checked earlier that morning. But she soon jumped to a relatively safe conclusion: Will must have picked some up from the store while he was out, as she did not see him on the couch when she had gotten up in the middle of the night a few hours ago.

Aubrey then reached towards the six pack and pulled one of the bottles off from the plastic that held the six containers together as a unit. While she twisted the bottle cap on her beverage, she then turned to view the couch to see if her boyfriend had finally returned.

And indeed, he was there, sprawled out over the couch with a single blanket covering his body. However, Aubrey also noticed that Will was wearing a certain scarlet and gray costume, minus the mask, a costume that she recognized from the news report she had seen on her phone just a few hours ago. Plus, now that she had seen in close up, the costume did look awfully similar to hers in design. It was just a bit more modest than her own costume, but that made sense because of the sort of guy Will was.

For a moment, a thought crept into Aubrey’s head: was Will wearing this costume a sign that this place’s Aubrey knew about his alter-ego?

Wait, I’m the real Aubrey. She thought as she realized this internal contradiction. She knew for sure that her Will was just a regular person, no powers and all. Yet the news reports and the costume he was wearing said otherwise. But Will had the worse poker face in the world. There was no way he could have hidden anything this ground shaking from her.

As her head ached with these inconsistencies in her memories, Aubrey drew the curtains back just enough to let some light into her living room, but not enough where he drider physique would be visible from outside. As the small sliver of light rushed into the room and struck her sleeping boyfriend, Aubrey heard his rustling from his slumber.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Aubrey greeted Will as she leaned over the back of the couch. “Looks like you had a busy night.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Will groggily replied while he was attempting to wake up. He clutched his forehead and began to rub it, as if it would somehow help wake him up.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Actually, we do have something we need to talk about,” he answered as he began to sit up. “You might want to take a seat.”

A sudden fear crept into the back of her mind. What could he possibly have to say? Possibilities started to fly around in her head. Could he be breaking up with her? No, that’s impossible; she was his dream girl. Something horrible had to have happened for him to want out of their relationship. But what else could he want to talk about?

While these thoughts were running through Aubrey’s mind, Will had sat up and scooted over to the far edge of the couch to allow as much room for Aubrey next to him. In turn, when she noticed there was a spot for her on the couch, Aubrey crawled over the back of the couch and rested her spider-half on the couch’s cushions, draping her right arachnid legs over the couch’s back.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know how to quite say it,” Will began to say as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Just say it.” Aubrey scooted closer towards her boyfriend and placed her hand on his thigh.

“Well, um, the me whom you hung out with yesterday was an alternate version of myself from a parallel universe,” he finally admitted to Aubrey. There was a brief moment of silence before Aubrey broke into laughter. Will, however, still wore a stunned expression on his face.

“I’m so stupid,” Aubrey exclaimed, “I thought you were about ready to break up with me or something.

“Aren’t you at all concerned about the whole parallel reality thing?”

“Will, this is just another Tuesday in the life of a superhero. The bizarre should be expected.”

“I’m not the only one. There’s your friend, Emily. Your teammates, the Immortals. From what I have heard, there are people across the country who have been replaced by a parallel reality doppelganger.”

Teammates? Aubrey thought before images of these so-called teammates flashed before her eyes. She had an inkling that she should know who these people were, but the memories of these events that played out in her head felt like they belonged to someone else. The costumes she was wearing in these memories reminded her of the dream just had last night. Or was it a dream?

“I knew something was up with Emily ever since that Hounds attack,” Aubrey claimed as she tried to hide the distress she was experiencing from these varying memories.

“And although the Immortals have not yet tested you yet, I’m pretty sure you’re also been affected.”

“What makes you think that?” Aubrey asked, although in the back of her mind she knew that there was some truth in his statement.

“Well—” Will replied as he pointed at Aubrey’s shirt, which was the same Super Bowl XLIII t-shirt she had been wearing yesterday. Aubrey, in turn, tilted her head down to see what exactly he was pointing at. Her face immediately blushed when she thought she knew what he meant.

“Well, that would explain why almost none of my bras fit.”

When Will heard what Aubrey had just said, he wore a confused expression on his face. It took a moment for her words to register in his head.

“What? No, that’s not what I mean. Sure, you’re not wrong, but—” Will tried to explain, although he was stumbling over himself because he was flustered, “Anyways—the point is that the Cardinals lost Super Bowl XLIII and, unless you found that shirt in some third world country, there is no way you could possibly have that shirt.

“Well, that also could be an explanation.”

A silence settled into the room, as neither Will nor Aubrey knew what to say once the probable possibility that Aubrey was not herself had been suggested. What were you supposed to say to someone who looked so similar to a loved one, but whom you knew was not them.

“So, is there a portal or something I need to jump through for your Aubrey to come back?” Aubrey finally broke the silence.

“Err—not quite,” Will began to explain in turn. Because he knew what he was going to say was pretty loopy, he took ahold of her hands before continuing. “Technically speaking, you are my Aubrey.”

“But didn’t you say I was a parallel version of your Aubrey?”

“Yes, but—” Will paused as he tried to figure out how best to explain what had been going on. Once he thought he knew how to explain everything, he started speaking again. “You and my Aubrey have not been stranded in each other’s universe. Whoever, or whatever, is causing all of this has somehow made you think and look like a different version of yourself. Your superhero friends have figured out a way to return the minds of effected individuals back to normal, but they’re still trying to figure out how to revert physical changes. Does that make sense?”

Aubrey then sat there in silence, as the revelation that Will had revealed to her was registering in her mind. Was the dream she had last night her mind’s way of cooping with whatever the heck was going on. But which version of herself from that dream, if any, was the one native to this reality? What would happen to her current personality after her original consciousness had been restored? Will said it himself: she would not be magically teleported back to her own reality. Would she just cease to exist? Would she in all intents and purposes die? Although she knew that the right thing to do was to give back the real Aubrey her life, the fear of oblivion paralyzed her.

“Aubrey? Are you okay?” Will’s voice snapped Aubrey out of her deep reflection of her current predicament.

“I’m fine,” Aubrey lied, although her face and voice betrayed her inner feelings.

“Are you sure?”

“You know what. Let’s do something fun tonight,” Aubrey immediately changed the subject of their conversation. This time, she did a far better job repressing her fears.

“Like—what?” Will asked his girlfriend. He suddenly remembered the conversation he had with this version of Aubrey last night. His heart was starting to pound. He just hoped she was thinking about something other than what he promised last night.

“Why don’t we go on patrol tonight? My Will doesn’t have superpowers. I don’t know if this world’s you normally have spider powers, but I think it would be a fun experience. Think of it as a crime-fighting date.”

“Sure. That’s a great idea.” Will answered, giving off an internal sigh of relief. “I only have powers because my parallel-self had them. So this would be something new for me, too.”

“Great! Let’s make it a date.”

She then lifted her arachnid body off the couch and started to walk towards the apartment’s bathroom. However, she stopped after taking a few steps (at least for an eight-legged person) and twisted her torso so she could see her boyfriend.

“Since you’ve been up all night, you can sleep in a little longer.”

“Are you sure?”

“You need to rest up for our little date tonight. Plus, I can keep myself busy until you get your beauty sleep.”

“Alright,” Will reluctantly agreed to Aubrey’s suggestion, “but let me change into my pajamas first.”

“I’ll be in the shower if you need me,” Aubrey told him before continuing into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. She then turned the shower knob to warm up the water.

Now that she was isolated from Will and the sound of the water beating against the basin of the water would mask her voice to a degree, Aubrey began to break out into tears. What was she to do? She knew it was wrong to rob Will of his real girlfriend. But how could she sacrifice herself to do justice for him? As these thoughts raced through her head, she unscrewed the cap of the pop bottle that she had been holding onto since she opened up the refrigerator and took a gulp of the caffeinated beverage to took off the edge of the pain she felt.

Her phone then buzzed.

It was this world’s Aubrey’s work. It was their last offer for moving Aubrey’s August photoshoot to today. She stared at the message for a moment before she typed out a quick response. But even when she had finished typing, she did not press the send button, but rather paused for a moment.

Then flashes of the lives of the other Aubrey’s played before her eyes for a second time. One moment, she found herself, in her human form, standing in front of a classroom of high schoolers, with a chalkboard behind her. Everyone, including Aubrey herself, were wearing quite retro clothing, as if it was the 1930’s or 40’s. The United States flag with only 48 stars only confirmed it.

Then Aubrey’s vision became blurred, like dozens of colors and lights swirling around her. When everything came to a standstill, Aubrey found herself posing in front of a photographer. She had her feet dipped into the cool waters of a pool. As Aubrey shifted her pose after each click and flash of the photographer’s camera, she displayed the swimwear that was he new rage of the 60’s: the bikini.

In the final take, the camera’s flash was so bright that it temporarily blinded Aubrey. Once her eyes had finally recovered, she found herself standing in the Lotus, the strip club Aubrey worked at on Nautican Island. The most popular beats of the day were blaring through the air, while neon lights basked the entire club. Aubrey, being on the onlook for any potential customers, wove through the crowd that was focused on the main stage.

“Hey, Rikki. The boss wanted me to remind you that you’re next on the pole,” Aubrey heard a familiar voice say her stage name. Walking towards her was a buxom catgirl. If she was not so white, one might have thought she had been pulled straight out of a really niche manga.

“Thanks Samm—I mean, Kylie,” Aubrey almost let her real first name slip. Before heading over to the main stage, Aubrey handed over the money she had made from the past hour to the bartender for safekeeping in the envelope each girl had reserved for them.

At least, Aubrey found herself gazing into the bathroom mirror. She could once again hear the water running from the shower faucet and could even feel the steam building up. She had no idea what she had just experienced. All she knew was that it was freaking trippy. She first splashed some water from the sink faucet into her face before taking one last swish of her pop. When she peered down at her phone, the message was still there. As there was not a message that alerted her that it was too late to response, Aubrey pressed the send button

How hard could this be? she thought.

It was three days before the third anniversary of the events of that fateful Halloween night. Kyra sat at her desk in her apartment’s bedroom. She was intently studying the notes and the pages of her Calculus textbook. She twirled her pencil between her fingers on one of her hands, while she rubbed the side of her temple.

“You coming?” Kyra looked up from her textbook and saw her roommate standing in her bedroom’s doorway. She was dressed as if she were ready for a night on the town.

“Sorry, I have a big exam on Monday,” Kyra declined the offer as she flipped to the next page in her textbook.

“Your loss, bookworm,” Kyra’s roommate sighed before turning to leave.

Kyra waited until she heard the front door of their apartment clicked, signaling that her roommate had left before she slammed her textbook shut. Even if Kyra had told the truth, she would not have been in the mood for clubbing or whatever her friends had in mind. Just the memory of what had happened that night three years ago spoiled any desire to do anything fun this weekend.

She then scooted her desk chair back and slipped out of her room. After checking that the coast was clear, Kyra snuck into the apartment bathroom. There, she opened up the medicine cabinet and revealed two orange, prescription bottles one would normally receive from the pharmacy. Although the label on the bottle was correctly prescribed to Kyra, the capsules within did not match what was originally prescribed, not that the average person could tell the difference.

The first bottle contained a blue capsule. Although she still had her power nullifier to cancel her fire powers, the events from three years ago had replaced her kitsune appearance with something else and the power nullifier did not work on this new look like it did on her old kitsune form. Therefore, the only thing Kyra found that would act as a proper substitute were these blue capsules. Because these pills did not have an on and off switch like her power nullifier, Kyra either had to wait until the effects of the blue pills ended or use the green pills from the other bottle.

Kyra grabbed the second pill bottle and emptied out several of the green capsules into her palm. After she then set the bottle on the bathroom counter, she picked one of the pills from her palm and poured the rest back into the bottle. She took several deep breaths through her nose before filling a glass with tap water and swallowed the green pill.

Normally, Kyra would never take one of these green pills unless there was an emergency that required some superheroics. That is why the second bottle was still well stocked, while the first only had maybe a couple of weeks’ worth of supply left. Fortunately, she procured some intel that the Shroud Syndicate would be moving a shipment of illegal pharmaceuticals, including these experimental metahuman suppressants, that night. If Kyra did not want her secret to out herself, she needed her powers, all of them, to acquire some more of these pills. She only was stealing from the bad guys. There was no harm from that. Right?

After a few seconds from when Kyra had swallowed the green capsule, she began to feel a burning sensation in her hands, feet, and lower arms and legs. This signaled to Kyra that the green capsule was already starting to kick in. Knowing that she only had less than an hour before her powers had resurfaced, she collected herself, despite the pain, and hurried out of her apartment.

---

Doug Tate had just shut the truck’s latch door and attached a padlock to seal the precious cargo within. His brother, Willie, and Doug had fallen on some hard times and, when they had found themselves in a deep, deep hole, the only way out they saw was taking hold of the hand offered by the Shroud Syndicate.

This was the Tate brothers’ first real gig. Their job was simple: just transport some drugs out of the city and across the state border into Pennsylvania. Doug’s brother used to be a trucker until he was laid off. In his mind, this would not be that much different from his brother’s old job, only with a smaller vehicle and some cargo that they definitely did not want to get caught with.

“Alright, Willie, everything is secured back here,” Doug alerted his brother. But he did not hear a response from his brother.

“Willie?” he asked again.

Doug almost leapt out of his pants when he heard a loud bang smash against the side of the truck and a thud against the pavement. He immediately reached for the gun stashed away behind his back, but he fumbled it and struggled to get a grip of the firearm because his hands were shaking profusely. Even when he had the gun in his hands, the barrel wiggled all over the place.

When Doug peered around the corner of the truck, he at once noticed the giant dent in the side of the truck. His eyes then glanced down from the dent to the body on the ground; it was his brother Willie.

“Willie!” Doug yelled as he hurled himself to the ground next to his brother’s body. His gun dropped from Doug’s hand even before he rushed towards his brother. At first, he feared the worse, but his brother was only unconscious.

Doug scanned the area, but he did not see anyone other than his unconscious brother. What could have done this to Willie? People do not randomly hurl themselves so violently against a wall to knock themselves out, and Doug knew that his brother Willie was not hopped on drugs. Their job was too important for them to screw up. The only evidence he found were a couple giant feathers. They were way too big for even the largest predatory birds.

While Doug was entirely focused on his downed brother, he did not notice something was swooping from above. Before he knew it, something had grasped his shoulders and began to lift him off of the ground. He only got a brief look at one of the giant bird talons wrapped around his shoulder before fainting out of sheer fright.

Once Doug was out cold, whatever had snatched him off the ground descended from the sky. The moonlight illuminated the figure of what had took out the two men. It revealed the silhouette of a slender and fit woman. While she was about to land, this woman beat the feathered wings that were sprouted from her arms, stretching out from right before her elbow to her wrists.

When the harpy woman landed, she handed towards the back of the truck. Because she had purposefully avoided allowing her metahuman powers from arising with power suppressants, each step would have looked a little awkward to an onlooker, as she was dealing with the additional joint at the exact transition from her human shin and her avian talons and feet. One could almost describe her movement like a little songbird hopping about.

The costumed birdlady found the padlock attached to the door’s latch, but this impediment would not be difficult for her to overcome. She placed her large hands, covered by the same scaly skin on her avian feet, over the padlock. A yellow glow began to shine through the small crevices between her clasped hands. The light transitioned from a yellow tint to an orange until finally settling with a red shine. Once she separated her hands, her palms still glowed red, while the metal that had just a few seconds ago been the foundation of the padlock dripped to the ground in a liquid form.

Once she had opened the truck’s rear door, she hopped into the cargo space and began to rummage through the concealed contraband. The Shroud Syndicate was a competent enough not to leave out their goods in plain sight, even when hidden in their transport vehicles. This time they used generic brand candy packaging as their cover.

“Where are those blue capsules?” Kyra muttered as she went through the various boxes stored within the truck.

Because Kyra was so focused on finding the power suppressants, she failed to notice the noise of someone else also climbing into the back of the truck. With one fell swoop, a crowbar smacked the back of Kyra’s skull and knocked her out cold. Whoever had snuck up on her dragged her unconscious body to the edge of the truck’s cargo space.

“I can’t believe that worked,” another shady fellow told the other man, indicating that this was a setup. Doug and Willie were unknowing decoys.

“Well, Catherine is going to have some fun with this toothpick,” the other man said.

“She won’t stay a twig after Catherine is done with her.”

---

Almost home free, Moon Bunny thought as she dashed across the rooftops of Pacific Point. When she was about ready to reach the edge of the room, a silver light, similar to the color given off by the moon, began to gleam from her legs. With once bounce from her feet, which were a weird human-rabbit hybrid, the bunny girl easily hurdled across the gap between the two buildings.

When she landed, she continued her run. However, because it had become dusk, she failed to see the spider silk trip line stretched out across the floor of the roof. As soon as Moon Bunny’s foot got tripped up over the spider silk, she stumbled and faceplanted straight into the floor. Once she hit the ground, she continued to tumble forward until coming to a standstill.

Even before Moon Bunny could pull herself onto a single knee, she knew exactly whom she was dealing with. Technically, there was a small chance that that one furry spider girl could have been messing with her, but that was unlikely.

When Moon Bunny looked around to see where her opponent was hiding, she finally spotted a silhouette crouched on the roof access enclosure. Although it was still a bit too dark to make out any specific details, even with the lights below, she could still tell that the figure was wearing a scarlet and gray costume, just the colors of Arachne. Without a moment to spare, the same silver light she had used to jump between rooftops surrounded her arm. She then thrust her arm towards the figure, sending out an energy projectile made of the silver light.

However, the figure easily dodged out of the way and allowed the projectile to harmlessly pass right by. Moon Bunny hoped her moonblast would be enough of a distraction for her to cross over to the next roof. For a moment, she had thought she had made her escape, as she was able to become airborne. But to her disappointment, she felt herself being yanked backwards, no doubt by a webline.

The whole whiplash and impact with the roof had disorientated Moon Bunny. Once she had regained her senses, she found that she had already been wrapped up with spider silk. When she glanced up to see who had apprehended her, she was surprised that a drider was not towering over her, but rather there was a man. He was wearing a costume very similar to Arachne’s, but it was not her. Or was it?

“So, I guess the rumors were true that you’ve become a dude,” Moon Bunny finally spoke up to the spider-themed hero standing next to her.

“Um—not quite,” the man responded.

Almost as if on cue, Arachne pulled herself from the side of the wall onto the rooftop where her boyfriend had restrained the villainess.

“Sorry about that. I mistimed that last jump,” Arachne provided as her excuse before realizing that Moon Bunny had been restrained. “I guess you handled her perfectly fine.”

“Oh my God! You two are wearing matching costumes! That is, like, so adorkable!” Moon Bunny blurt out when she saw Arachne arrive on the scene. Once she got a better look of the drider heroine, Moon Bunny continued with her prattle. “Oh, and I dig the costume change. If you got the goods, flaunt them, girl.”

“Alright, it’s time to find the nearest police officer,” Will interrupted as he pulled Moon Bunny off the ground and onto her feet.

“Go ahead without me. I think I just need a short break while you *hiccup* turn her in,” Arachne told Will.

“Care to share your thought on your squeeze’s new look?” Moon Bunny whispered to Will. “Great views, right?”

“Are you okay? I did lose you back there.” Will asked his girlfriend while ignoring Moon Bunny’s colorful commentary.

“There’s nothing to *hiccup* worry about,” Arachne poorly tried to convince her boyfriend.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Will asked again.

“She sure is,” Moon Bunny quipped with a smile on her face, knowing her comment would bug Will.

“Don’t make me push you off this ledge,” Will threatened before he propelled down the side of the building with the bunny villainess in hand. However, before he went, he turned towards Arachne for a brief moment. “After I turn her in, we better head back home.”

“Fine,” Arachne yielded as she watched her boyfriend descend down the building.

Once Arachne knew that her boyfriend was out of sight, she reached into the inside of her bomber jacket and pulled out an almost empty pop bottle. She unscrewed the bottle’s cap and drained the last gulp of the caffeinated beverage.

Maybe I should make a quick pitstop for a refill, Arachne thought as she held the now empty bottle. However, before she could even make a single step, she heard something land on the roof access enclosure.

Why didn’t my spider sense warn me? Have I really consumed too much caffeine?

When Arachne turned, she saw a costumed woman crouching on the roof access enclosure. This woman had pointy, elf-like ears. If it were not for her avian arms and feet, she would have had a modelesque physique. Although she was not as well-endowed as Arachne was, she could still give the drider heroine a run for her money.

“Should I know who you are? I feel I should, but I’m drawing a blank.”

“Black Widow,” the harpy lady finally spoke, “I didn’t know the bottle was your vice, though I am not quite surprised.”

“How can you get us confused? Besides being driders, we have nothing in common. I’m blonde and she has black hair, for crying out load!” Arachne responded, “Plus, I’m only drinking pop!”

“A rose by any other name would still be a rose,” the bird woman quipped back. Arachne was not sure whether she was double downing that she’s really Black Widow or she somehow knew overdosing on caffeine was like getting drunk for her. There’s the possibility that it’s both.

“You obviously don’t have eagle eyes, because you need your eyes checked.”

“I’m not surprised by the ad hominem attack. That’s what a villain would do.”

A standoff ensued, as the two women prepared for the other to pounce. But something felt so wrong to Arachne. If she were really facing a villain, her spider sense would have been blaring like the worst headache in the world. But it wasn’t.

“Hey Aubrey, I’m—” Will finally broke the tension in the air after he crawled back up the side of the building and onto the roof top, “back?”

Both women immediately turned their attention towards Will after he had spoken up. Then, almost as soon as the harpy lady seemed to recognize who Will was, she turned and dove off the side of the roof. After several beats of the wings on her arms, she soared away and disappeared into the nighttime sky.

“Who was she?” Will then asked after he saw the harpy woman had flown away.

“She felt so familiar, like I should know her.”

“Her costume reminds me of Firefox, but she has fox ears and nine tails.”

“Maybe we should follow her, just in case.”

Will paused for a moment. He knew they should really head home, since he could recognize the signs of caffeine overdose in his girlfriend. Heck, she was still holding an empty bottle of pop in her hand that she probably just finished. Yet, at the same time, Odysseus had mentioned to both him and his girlfriend’s friend, Emily, that he had not seen Firefox ever since all of the parallel universe doppelgangers began popping up and replacing their counterparts. If they had a lead on Firefox’s whereabouts, they needed to follow up on them.

“Alright, here’s the plan. We’ll try to follow her for a little bit longer. But after that, we have to head back to your apartment.”

”Doctor, her BP and heart rate are dropping.”

“Give her 125mls of epinephrine. We need to get her into surgery now.”

The sounds of doors bursting open were close by. “Ok, we have a 25-year-old Native American female with a GSW through the left chest. The bullet went through, but it has caused damage to the left lung and shoulder blade. We’ll need to get her into surgery and drain any fluid that's built up. There might be damage to any of the pulmonary arteries, so we will need to check and repair any of the damage to the vein…”

“… Ok, 3, 2, 1, Lift!”

A feeling of weightlessness before a gentle thud onto something hard and cold. ”Jason… Is he… alright?” I rasped, feeling like it is difficult to breathe and to keep consciousness. I try opening my eyes, but it flutters open and closed, difficult to keep open.

The doctor turns towards me, his uniform similar to the military doctors that I am familiar with during my childhood. “Concentrate on fighting through this, ma’am.”

I feel a mask go over my mouth and lips, breathing in the general anesthetic that was pumping through them. Just then, a man burst into the room. He was familiar to me. “D..d… Dad?”

The look on my father’s face… He didn’t look as worried as what was to be expected for his daughter in the state that she is in. “It’s going to be ok, Kayla. You will pull through this.” I could feel the faint murmurs of my heart race faster and faster. My breath became more rapid, more ragged as it dawned on me what was about to happen. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted Jason to be here, to let me know he is still alive. I just wanted...

"It’s ok, Kayla.”

That voice. It was one out of place in what was happening right now. And yet, it was a voice that soothed me. I can feel my heart slow as my breathing became easier. I weakly looked around to find the source of the voice. My eyes then locked onto the figure. His frame was familiar even though it was out of place for a hospital. Even more so, despite never seeing him before in my life, I knew his name.

”—Jai?”

The shape moved away from the corner of the room, seemingly responding to my calls to him. As the lights of the operating room illuminated his face and eyes, a faint smile was slowly etched across my face. I looked into his eyes, his gold and blue eyes locking me in a trance. No, it called to me. And yet, I am unable to move to get close to him. His motions seemed to know what I wanted as he walked towards my left side.

”It’s ok, Kayla,” he said once again, his entire body turned towards me as he stopped close to my left hand. ”You will be ok—it's only a dream.”

It was then that I noticed that everything around me seemed to stop in place. Seeing my father, still looming over me on my right side with the seemingly uncaring look in his face, and his uncaring expression made me anxious. But then, a warm hand touched my cold, clammy hands. Looking back, I see Jai holding it with his left hand. It was comforting to feel the warmth going through my hand, despite it being a complete contrast to the coldness I felt from the engagement ring.

”No matter what nightmares you face, you will make it through. You will know peace.” Slowly, Jai faded away from view.

”Jai! Don’t leave me! I need you!”

As he disappeared, everything was starting to speed back up.

My father, returning to normal speed, then turns to the doctor. “Do it…” Everything then slowly fades to black as the doctor grabbed the scalpel and approached me.

---

In a jolt, Kayla was awake. It had been recently that she’d managed to stifle the sudden scream that escaped her, but the gasp of air passed her lips regardless. Her eyes darted quickly around the room, scanning for any threat in the darkroom as she could hear the rush of blood in her ears. The familiar damp feeling of her sheets nearly coated in her sweat and the ragged breathing after waking up. Her body slowly twitched to her quickened heartbeat. She wanted to cry again, startled by the nightmare’s scalpel reaching for her. Only… She felt an unusual calm in her core that she hadn’t felt after a nightmare.

Absently, she turned herself over in her bed to have a look at the alarm clock. 02:37. Her left hand instinctively reached for the ring that hung off the chain. Much like the dream, her hand felt warm against the cold of gold. Her mind went back to what she remembered of the dream—of Jai—in the operating room. In her half-asleep mind, questions raced.

Why was Jai in her dreams?

There was literally nothing else different from the nightmare beside him appearing. And what was with the warm feeling with his hand? She vividly remembered the contrast of heat between that and the ring. It was the same feeling she was having with the ring now. She focused on the ring for a moment before she realized she was awake as the ring began to warm up in her hand. Confused with everything that was happening, she stared absently at the clock until she drifted off to sleep an unknown time later.

---

The first thing that woke Kayla up that morning was the vibration of her phone on the side of the bed.

Jeremy called her to let her know that for an unknown amount of time, everyone is to not come to work as news got to him that a fight occurred with a monster with one of the city’s heroes. Her workshop had taken the full brunt of the damage, but other damage from that had made the building structurally unsafe until work was done to secure the building.

Despite sounding bad on the phone to cover up her actions, she felt bad about what had happened. She didn’t consider that Michael Garth could transform into the monster that was caught on the news. However, it made things easier for her to begin her focus on the Penose that she was distracted from. It also helped her keep herself away from Jai and Racheli after what she had seen and heard in the sewer. No… she thought. She didn’t need to keep herself away from them. She needed the space to figure out what she was going through.

After some time, she walked out of her bedroom to see Mia at the table. The blonde’s fingers were wrapped around a mug of coffee while she was watching the television. The news story of Fletch's fight with the monster was shown on-screen with mobile phone footage. Or at least, what little of the fight that had happened on the ground. While the main news was with Icon trying to quell the fighting in Talosden, Kayla had already focused on the fact that her identity wasn't revealed and instead, saw only the footage of her not so revealing face on the screen. Hiding her sigh of relief behind a shrug so Mia wouldn't grow curious, Kayla closed the bedroom door behind her.

Padding into the kitchen, Kayla turned her head as Mia spoke. “Did you hear about this on the news?” Mia spoke just as she reached the kettle to boil some water. “Jeremy’s garage was destroyed by something that the archer hero was fighting.”

”Yeah,” Kayla replied, grabbing a green teacup from the cupboard. ”Jeremy called this morning about it. We won’t be working there for a while until the building is repaired.”

The blonde sighed. “That’s too bad. I hope you have enough money saved for the time off work, right?”

The kettle started to whistle from the kitchen as Kayla hummed in thought. ”I should have enough. I mean, I don’t spend most of my time going out partying.” She paused for a moment, inwardly wincing at the last thing she said. ”At least, not for a long time.” After a moment, she walked out of the kitchen to the table with green tea. ”Besides, if I start running low, I can always sell some stuff I have around. Who knows what people would want in this city nowadays with social media and everything.”

“Yeah, but even so you should be careful. The building repairs could take forever, especially in a city of superheroes like Lost Haven.” Mia looked away from the television to her friend. An all-knowing look crossed her features, smirking mischievously as her eyes glinted behind her glasses. “Anyway, you promised. Give me all the details about everything that happened last night with you, Jai and Racheli.”

Kayla rolled her eyes. She thought her childhood friend would have forgotten all about that last night. ”Well… We spent the day going to all the places in the French Quarter. I even took them to that café you mentioned. Then, we went for a meal after some exploring and spent time drinking at a bar on 52nd Street.” If only she knew.

Mia sighed in exasperation. “Not what I was hoping to hear,” she muttered. Then in a louder voice, she looked unamused as she continued. “Look, anyone can ask about what happened during their day. But, what I want to know is if anything happened between you and Jai. You two seemed to be hitting it off at work.”

Kayla pursed her lips. ”Uh…” She didn’t know how to answer that question. From what she saw, Jai and Rach would be good together without her in the picture. But something had been nagging at her. Her sudden reaction to them and her nightmare threw a spanner into what she thought. And now? She has no idea what is happening and she needed time to figure it out…

“Come on!” Kayla snapped back as Mia piped up. “Something is going on between you two, isn’t there?”

”Uh…” she repeated again. ”To be honest, I don’t think he’s interested. Besides, he seemed to be getting along with Racheli well enough.”

“Oh Kayla,” she said, shaking her head in disappointment. “When are you going to stop doubting yourself and move on?” She got out of her chair and moved to the chair closest to Kayla. “You are one of the nicest people that I know besides Mark. You do deserve happiness, even after everything that has happened.” She placed a hand on her lap. “And you won’t know what’ll happen if you don’t try.” Then, she smirked. “Besides, you don’t want a repeat with Jonathan McReed in 10th Grade, do ya?”

The sudden change in tone made Kayla gasp in surprise. ”Don’t bring that up! Rude!” Mia cackled at the suddenly flustered Kayla before both of them laughed for a moment or two.

Once the laughing subsided, Kayla looked at Mia with reluctant gratitude. ”Thank you, Mia. I’ll try to do that in the future.”

Mia nodded and smiled back at her friend. It didn’t take long, however, before her expression became dour. “Speaking of Mark, I should get going to see him. Also, I think for the time being that I would be staying at Mark’s place. His parents are also in the city keeping an eye on him and his apartment. At least until he’s out of the hospital.”

Kayla seemed to be taken aback a little bit by the sudden news. However, it quickly fell away with another smile. ”That’s fine. Besides, it is a long way to the hospital from here and Mark lives much closer, plus you have his family to keep you company. So… It makes sense to me.”

Mia’s dour expression lifted. “Are you sure? Will you be ok being here by yourself?”

”I’ll be fine.”

“Only if you’re sure, Kayla. I’ll feel bad if something happens while I’m gone.”

”Say hi to him for me, will you?”

“I will. Stay safe, Kayla.”

Kayla simply waved as Mia got up and began to walk out of the door, the roller suitcase near the door ready. She took a sip from her tea as the apartment door slowly closed. Once the latch clicked shut, her expression turned more concerned. ”I will try, Mia.”

(Edits for Jai and some other issues with thanks from eravicis)

---

---

It had taken a while to even think of getting ready. The college life was not awfully conducive to prolonged space adventures, specially if you were there thanks to a swimming scholarship. Gabriel had to attend tournaments, pass his finals, finish his assignments, live through debilitating hangovers and caffeine overdoses, and all the while take care of a very voracious alien pet.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Asked Jake, and Gabriel could have sworn that he could hear the sad puppy eyes he was giving him behind his back. But the Andromedan did not relent, though he was extra sweet and tender about putting the leash around their baby Thorian Thrasher’s gooey neck.

”Yeah”, he answered, sounding rather whiny about it. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve definitely moved past my prejudices now that I’ve actually lived with this cutie, but it’s still dangerous for them and for us.”

“Sucks.”

”Mhmmm”, voiced Gabriel, petting the alien creature’s head. They returned the gesture with some nuzzling and a very loving gurgling sound. Somehow, he no longer found those noises disgusting. “If it helps, this one’s probably going to be fine no matter where I leave them. It has a very nice personality.”

With the leash properly placed, all that was left for him to do was put on his ridiculously oversized backpack and thank the Universe for him never skipping back day at the gym.

“We really need to talk about...”

“What this relationship is?” Asked Gabriel, standing rather gallantly in the middle of their dorm room.

“Yes, that”, said Jake. “You said this whole trip with the alien girl and the knight might take a while. So...”

There was a pause, a rather awkward silence shared between the two young men.

“Well, I do like you”, said Gabriel. “A lot.”

“You like everyone”, Jake said with a chuckle.

“True.”, Gabriel grinned, though the gesture faded. “My life is complicated… and I kinda want you to be a part of it. But it’s going to get stressful really fast and I don’t think it’s getting any easier in the near future.”

“Friends with benefits, then?” Said Jake, pressing his hand on the taller male’s chest. “At least for now?”

“I’d like that”, said Gabriel. And then they kissed. Just a little peck, really. Which then turned into a smooch. Which then turned into...

One steamy ellipsis later, the Andromedan and their pet Thorian Thrasher were gone, swallowed by a rift in space. All they left behind was a splatter of pale Thorian goo, thankfully odorless, and iridescent sparkles of cosmic energy in the air.

---

First order of business, after dealing with all of the customary arrangements for a long journey through outer space, was finding his apparent travel partners. Which took a while. A long while. Or rather, finding Eva was easy, but not so much Riley. Her trail went cold almost as soon as Gabriel pursued it. It was as if she had vanished into thin air. Which, in his experience as a living spatial anomaly, did not bode well.

Getting rid of the Thorian Thrashers on Earth may have been his priority, but Gabriel knew better than to let this sort of mystery slide. And he would need help.

This was how the Andromedan found himself jumping through a rift in space into the women’s room of a dive bar in Lost Haven. The air within immediately reminded him of the time he had accidentally appeared inside a giant Tuafrun worm’s stomach, a memory that filled him with a surprising amount of nostalgia.

The bar itself was reminiscent of many alien cantinas, save for the lack of a weirdly enthusiastic band playing in the background for an audience that often was too busy plotting space crime. In that sense, it was cozy.

“Eva?” he called out to her as soon as he saw her, but she was already on her way to the exit. So he ran after her.

"Eva, wait!"

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The inside of the New Portland Water Plant was a twisted maze of corridors, made even more disorienting by the fact that the power to the plant had been cut, leaving the facility in near total darkness, the only light source were the emergency lights that seemed to grow dimmer with each passing minute. While this might prove problematic for most, Lyger's feline abilities, one of which, his low light vision allowed him to see easily in the dark, giving him a distinct advantage over anyone he might encounter in the darkened water treatment plant.

“Whisper, talk to me. What are we looking at?” Lyger said into the com link built into his mask.

“You're going to want to keep going straight, then take your second left. That should bring you right to the clear well. That's probably where you're going to find him.” Whisper told him.

“I'm on it.” Lyger said as he quickened his pace down the corridor.

“Uh, boss. I'm getting about a half a dozen heat signatures just up ahead, They could be hostile, so you might want to be careful.” Whisper warned him.

“Right.” Lyger responded as he quickened his pace toward the clear well.



From the small security office located within the room that housed the clear well, Insomnia monitored the goings-on within the plant from closed circuit security cameras which dotted the interior of the water plant. Thus far, his plan had gone according to plan, for the most part. He and his “friends” had taken over the water plant amid the chaos that had been created outside, and thus far the Crown Ridge Police had been unable to gain a foothold anywhere near the plant. However, he soon came to realize that he and his men were not alone in the water plant. In fact, there were at least two interlopers inside with him.

He kept his eyes locked on the monitor screens, hoping to get a look at who had infiltrated the plant. In the west wing of the plant, he saw a young man who appeared on the surface to be of little consequence. This young man walked recklessly through the hallways, taking little care to keep under cover. He also seemed to be new to this whole hero thing. He wore a “costume,” however, it was very rudimentary. It consisted of a black leather coat over what appeared to be makeshift armor, which through the admittedly blurry picture provided on the security cameras, looked to be made from hockey pads. This meant that whoever this was, it wasn't one of the “big guns.”
“How curious.” Insomnia said to himself as he watched the mysterious young man make his way through the plant's corridors, moving ever closer to Insomnia's present location. However, it wasn't the young man in the makeshift body armor that caught his attention. It was the figure in black that was barely perceptible in the darkened hallways. At first he saw the figure in a quick flash of motion in the darkness, though soon the cameras were able to get a clear shot of this intruder.

“Very interesting my love, they've sent the cat.” a woman's voice seemingly materialized our of nowhere. “You must have them scared to send him after you.”

“Well then, this should be fun.” Insomnia told her.

“Hardly. Do you really think you have any chance at beating him? He'll end you, or worse, he'll see you locked behind bars for the rest of your life.” She chided him.

“Oh...damn it, Janet! Why do you always have to be such a downer?” Insomnia protested.

The raven haired woman just looked at him as he continued watching the security feed.

“My name isn't Janet, you jackass. It's...” she was cut off.

“Oh shut up, he's about to run into the boys. He's going to get his ass handed to him, this should be good.” Insomnia said excitedly, never taking his eyes off of the monitor.

Insomnia flung himself into the rickety leather chair that sat before the security monitor array, a chair that quite frankly had seen better days. The sudden movement threatened to topple the chair over, depositing the madman on the floor of the security room. However, the chair mercifully stopped swaying, and came to rest in place before that happened. Finally, Insomnia settled into the chair in front of the monitors and found his eyes glued to the screens.



Lyger crept along the dark hallway which had now gone completely dark, the only light coming from the flashlights that Insomniac's goons carried with them. Silently, Lyger stalked the thugs, quickly moving along the corridor without alerting the men to his presence. Under the cover of darkness, Lyger inched forward until he was within arms reach of the first of Insomnia's thugs. He reached out with his, black gloved hand and covered the gunman's mouth as he yanked him backwards. He spun the goon around and struck him with a sudden thrust to the goon's throat, which cut off the thug's airway and preventing him from crying out to the others. Lyger then followed up with a straight right hand to the jaw which rendered the man unconscious before disappearing back into the darkness, where he stalked the next armed thug.

Without making a sound, Lyger made his way through the dark hallway, eliminating Insomnia's armed henchmen one by one, until none remained standing. Lyger continued to the end of the hallway until he came to a heavy security door which should lead into the clear well, and Insomnia himself.

“Whisper. The door's welded shut. Are you seeing any other way in?” Lyger asked.

“No, they designed the building with one way in to the clear well, there isn't even an air shaft leading into the room. Apparently it's a security measure.” She replied.

“Of course it is.” Lyger said slightly exasperated.

“Amateur.” Came a voice from behind him. Lyger spun to face the man, ready for anything. However, when he saw the grinning face of Reklis, he relaxed a bit.

“Took you long enough.” Lyger said somewhat sarcastically.

“Yeah, I ran into some trouble in the East corridor. But it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. What've we got?” he said, motioning at the door.

“Looks like the door's been welded shut. I can't budge it.” Lyger admitted.

“Stand aside, I've got this.” Reklis told him as he closed his eyes and began to focus all his attention on the door. At first, Lyger thought that this was the rookie goofing off again, and he was about to call him out on it when something happened. The door began to shake violently, before an invisible force began pulling the door outward. The door creaked and groaned in protest as it was pulled from its hinges and deposited on the ground with a loud thud.

“After you.” Reklis said with a grin as he motioned to the now open doorway to the clear well and Insomnia.

---

Thwack!

It didn’t take The Wanderer long before he was faced with criminals. Much like those who he faced at the library, the criminals that he came across all had answered some mysterious call to a bounty placed on every heroes’ heads. For some of the men he came across, he successfully thwarted the targeted hero from biting it with minimal damage to himself. However, it was few and far in between.

”Tell me who ordered the bounty!”

This had been another unfortunate case where the mutant had failed to get to the hero before the men had put a bullet into her skull. Not wanting to allow for her body to be further sullied as the men were beginning to take the corpse away, he had acted with swift but brutal justice that came close to the justice he dished out in the wastelands of the future. With broken bodies of unconscious bodies, he carried on looking at the one still conscious.

Thwack!

Another held-back slap from the mutant on the man’s face. ”Who made the order for you to target other heroes,” he demanded, the fires of fury smoldering in his eyes. No answer came. ”You don’t know how much shit you are in. Your buddies all unconscious from the same treatment while I’ve been asking the same question. As you are the last one still conscious and I have all the time in the world, I will get the answers from you by any means necessary.” It was an idle threat, but it’s all he had.

Still no answer.

Crack!

The man screamed in pain as The Wanderer grabbed one of his fingers and folded it back on itself. He shook his head at the same pattern from the other criminals he faced. No one was going to answer him and seemed to think there were people worse than him that would allow for such silence. Still, he had to get the answers.

Before he could repeat the question as the screams turned to whimpers, a low rumble droned in the air. He looked up when the light turned bright as something orange streaked above him. He heard the crash, which seemed to be some distance away from him, but the ground shook enough for him to know it was in the vicinity of the city. He let out a sigh as his eyes scowled at the man.

”Looks like time’s up.”

Crack!

He headbutted the guy square in the face, knocking him unconscious with a bloodied nose. Grabbing the four men in hand, he threw them out onto the open street. Then, making sure their dignity was still intact, he remasked the fallen hero and brought her out of the alley, placing her near a store. His eyes never left the smoke that rose up. Once the storekeeper was told to call the cops on the incident that happened here, he ran off in the direction of the possible threat.

---

While it took a bit of time to get there, The Wanderer looked on at the crash site from the top of the roof. The resulting object looked odd for him. It certainly appeared to look like a craft of some kind, just not anything he had seen in books before. However, it wasn’t the only thing he could see. With the shimmering waves in his psionic eyes, it didn’t take him long to realize that Voyager was here as well, talking to another being that had a similar signature in the waves.

It was moments after he arrived that he witnessed Voyager collapse onto the ground, sending onlookers screaming away. He saw a sudden spike from the being’s psionic signature to indicate an ability being used. It didn’t seem fatal, however, as psionic energy was still present in the fallen hero. Even so, he didn’t take too kindly when the being picked her up and went back into the craft.

”Oh hell…”

He reacted instinctively, forming the psionic energy around him. With reckless abandon, he jumped off the building and teleported to a space above the strange craft. As he fell towards it, he created his psionic blade and aimed to strike the top of the craft.

With the heavy blast door taken care of, Lyger and Reklis moved into the clear well, where they found no sign of Insomnia or any more of his men. The clear well itself was a large mostly wide open area aside from some large pipes and pumps. However, on the far left hand side of the room there was a lone security room, and that was where Lyger guessed Insomnia must have been hiding.

“They're onto you now.” Janet cackled in glee as Insomnia watched the two vigilantes move into the clear well.

“Would you just shut up?!” Insomnia shot back venomously. “This isn't over yet.”

“You and I both know that it is. They're going to lock you back up in that hell hole and you'll never see the light of day again.” Janet said matching his tone. “And I personally can't wait.”

“Yeah, and you would be there to haunt me with your endless chatter. You would enjoy that, wouldn't you?” Insomnia said coldly even as Janet leaned in like she was going to kiss him.

“Well, it would serve you right.” She said leaning in closer. “I mean, you did kill me after all.” She said as she pulled back from him. Her pristine skin instantly decaying before his eyes, her face becoming increasingly corpse-like until it crumbled away before him, leaving him alone in the security room when the door slammed open, and two masked figures entered the room.

“Don't move Miles, it's over.” Lyger said as he laid eyes on the madman.

“Oh...I don't think so.” Insomnia said gleefully as he reached into his pocket, pulling a flash bang grenade out and tossing it immediately in the direction of Lyger and Reklis. With the two vigilantes stunned by the sudden flash, Insomnia was able to get out past them and into the clear well. Insomnia made a dash toward the water supply with a vial of the compound which had transformed him from a respected researcher into the monster that he had become.

Lyger was only stunned momentarily, and he quickly took off after Insomnia. Lyger raced after the madman, catching up to him before he was able to get the vial to the city's water supply. He reached out, grabbing the maniac's arm, only for Insomnia to turn on his and swing at him with a wild right hand, which Lyger was able to avoid. Lyger countered with an uppercut to Insomnia's gut, followed by an open hand thrust to his chin, which put the terrorist down. Lyger then pulled a pair of titanium cuffs from his belt, and secured the madman safely to a railing near the entrance to the water plant.




From a rooftop across the street from the New Portland Water Plant, Lyger and Reklis watched as the CRPD took Insomnia into custody. Since the Crown Ridge authorities still held a less than favorable view on vigilantes, Lyger couldn't just march the maniac out to the waiting police force. So after he had secured the lunatic, he had Whisper call in an anonymous tip to the CRPD letting them know of Insomnia's location. As he watched the police officers load him into the transport van, Lyger felt a sense of relief. Relief that they had finally ended the threat of Insomnia, hopefully for good, and over the fact that he had finally made good on his promise to Harry to bring in the son of his friend safely. After several moments of silence, Lyger finally turned his head and looked to the man who had assisted him tonight. As much as he hated to admit it, he had underestimated the threat that Insomnia had posed, and more importantly, he had underestimated the effect on the people of Crown Ridge that the fear of that threat had created, and the depths that they would go to protect themselves.

That underestimation had nearly proved fatal for Lyger, and it very well may have been if it hadn't been for the timely intervention of Reklis.

“You did good work here tonight.” Lyger said.

“Thanks. You were pretty impressive yourself.” Reklis said before looking back to the scene below them. Silence hung in the air for several seconds before Reklis spoke again. “You know, maybe we should...” He turned to look at Lyger again, only to find that the feline hero had already left.

“Heh, so it's gonna be like that, huh?”

As Icon soared over Lost Haven, he grew more and more frustrated. Frustrated at the fact that even with all of his powers, he was utterly powerless to protect Alexa from an assassin's bullet. He feared that the assassination attempt on Alexa had proven her father right, that Scott just was not capable of protecting his daughter. But even more than that, he was growing frustrated by the fact that he had made so little headway in determining just who was responsible for the attempt on Alexa's life, and by extension, who it was that had left that note for him.

The note had stated that “they” knew who Icon was, and with the attack on Alexa, he knew deep down that this was not a bluff. The attempt on Alexa's life had been a message for him. What that message was, was received loud and clear:
Nobody in his life was safe.

He had already began trying to make his friends and family safer. He told Jenny that maybe it was time to get out of the city for a little while. Of course, she refused. She had told him that she wouldn't just uproot her life and run away, and as much as he disagreed with her, he respected her choice. So, he was relieved when she agreed to go stay with a friend until this had all blown over.

When he went to Eric, his best friend and business partner was more understanding. He recognized the danger associated with being “Icon's best friend,” especially since it seemed that a dangerous enemy had somehow deduced the hero's secret identity. However, he also refused to pack up and leave, and of course, he noted that they couldn't just close down now, so soon after reopening after the Hounds of Humanity had attacked the club. Of course, Scott admitted that Eric had been right, they couldn't just close down every time there was a threat of some sort as a result of Scott's “day job.” However, Scott was relieved when Eric had suggested hiring additional security for the time being.
For the first time since he had taken up the mantle of Icon, he felt completely powerless. After the attempted assassination on Alexa, he had been out pounding the pavement, so to speak. Searching the city for any trace of the assassin who's bullets had not only injured Alexa, but killed six other people that day. He had left no stone unturned, but had come up with no information that would lead him to whoever it was that was behind this.

“It's like they're ghosts.” Christopher Arthur had told him when he had gone to him for help, hoping that he could use his vast STRIKE connections to find those responsible. Unfortunately, the truth was that with STRIKE now defunct, there was little that Chris was able to do to track down the assassin or whoever it was that had hired him.

However, Chris' inability to help track these people down was far from unique. Icon had gone to nearly everyone that he knew that could possibly help him find anything, but he wasn't even able to get so much as a name. The only information that he was able to get was that the symbol in the note, the eye that looked almost like it came straight from an Egyptian hieroglyph had been seen several times in Crown Ridge.

So that was where he was going now.

As unlikely as it was, there was one person in Crown Ridge who might be able to help. All Icon had to do was ask. However, he had to find him first. He hadn't been responding to his hails over the Guardians' com system that Arthur had developed, and he wasn't exactly known for being easy to contact. However, Icon had his methods for finding people, even if they didn't necessarily want to be found. The truth was, Icon knew almost as much about the assassins as he did about Lyger. The feline hero was not exactly “one of the gang.” He kept to himself and didn't let others, including his teammates into his world.

In fact, the only thing that Icon had to go on was that he had heard someone else speaking to Lyger through a comm device during their battle against the Hounds of Humanity, and again shortly after during a brief meeting at Sherman Center. However, the people who were speaking to him were very different individuals. During the fight against the Hounds, it sounded as if it were an older male who had been communicating with him. During the meeting at the Guardians' headquarters, it sounded as if it were a younger woman. The only hope that Icon had of finding Lyger, would be to see if he could hone in and find a familiar voice, and hope that he'd be able to trace it to their location.

It had only taken Icon moments to travel the ten miles from Lost Haven to Crown Ridge. Once in the air space over “Lost Haven's Ugly Little Sister,” Icon climbed several thousand feet and then he hovered, and listened.

He listened desperately hoping to hear a familiar voice.

“...You wanna cry? I'll give you something to cry about!”

“...Dad, this is my boyfriend, Nate.”

“...c'mmon, there's no such thing as aliens! Get yer head outta yer...”

“...Come on baby, if you really loved me you would...”

“...we've got a 10-54 at the corner on West and Newmart.”

Icon heard everything. However, the one thing that he did not hear was what he was desperately looking for. A hint, a familiar voice. A clue which would bring him to the one man he needed to find.

Until finally, he heard her voice.

“...Well, to be honest, if we're assigning blame, then this is your fault for leaving me alone with the explosives in the first place.”

That's her! Icon thought to himself as he recognized the young woman's voice from Lyger's communications device. He began to focus on her voice, drowning out all the other noise in the city until he was only able to hear her voice. Then, he could hear other voices in the same vicinity. There was another woman, who Icon estimated to be in her mid to late twenties, and then a male, who's voice was somewhat familiar, though not quite. However, he supposed that the male could be Lyger, who was currently not using his voice modulator.

There was a little bit of yelling, and someone said something about a ruined motorcycle, which was more than enough for Icon to lock onto and get a general idea of where they were. Icon headed toward the city, and by following the voices, traced them back to an old dilapidated Post Office building.

This can't be right, there's nothing here. Icon thought to himself as he walked around the run down building. However, he could still hear the voices within, and they appeared to be coming from below the structure itself. So he continued to look around for a way in. Then he saw something that didn't quite fit in with the rest of the site. To the left of the loading bay where postal workers had once filled the mail trucks with mail, there was a state of the art sensor of some sort, as well as a well hidden security camera.

This has got to be it. He thought to himself just as the conversation that he could hear below made him sure that it was.

“Sorry to drop by like this, but I need your help.” Icon said as he stepped in front of the sensor and spoke to the camera. He stood there and waited for a moment, and just as he was beginning to believe that he'd have to find another way in, the platform that he stood on began to lower itself into the ground.

The platform, which was actually some sort of lift, slowly descended down into the sub level of the post office, which as Icon reached the lower levels he saw that it looked as if it were actually an old bomb shelter which probably dated back to at least the mid 1980s. As he looked around his surroundings as the lift finally came to a stop, he saw a small computer array, what looked like a car that was being built almost from scratch, and in the corner a motorcycle that was indeed a smoldering wreck. There were also two young women, a pretty blonde girl who was in her early twenties, and a Latina woman who as Icon had guessed, looked to be in her late twenties. Then, as he was stepping off the lift, the masked vigilante Lyger stepped toward him.

“Well, what can I do for you?” Lyger asked as he approached Icon.

“I'm sure you heard about the assassination attempt on Alexa Winstone.” Icon said.

“Yeah, that was unfortunate.” Lyger told him.

“It was. Icon agreed. “It was also a message to me. Icon continued.

“How so?” Lyger asked, unsure of what Icon meant.

Icon looked around pensively to the two young women, and then to Lyger. He knew that at this point there was not reason not to be truthful, Lyger was a smart guy and would figure it out on his own anyhow. Then he took his finger to his right wrist and pressed a button. Immediately, his blue and silver uniform retracted back into the bracelet that Alexa had given him.

“My name is Scott Hunter. Someone figured out who I am and is targeting people that I love.”