Blake rubbed his head as everybody spoke, drawing up a bunch of elaborate plans for how to continue the invasion. He also thought he heard Rumi mention something about "ogres," which Blake took to be some type of elaborate science-speak. After all, it couldn't be the guy from Shrek, right? No way. Blake's pounding headache prevented him from really soaking in any of the information that was being laid out. Patricia's screeching wasn't helping at all. Normally, Blake would use this as a prime teasing opportunity, but his head hurt so much that he was forced to forgo that operation. He did hear Will say something about him charging headfirst into the odors, or ogres, or whatever the fuck they were. Blake shrugged. ”Alright, sounds good. Charge into Octobers,” Blake said, rubbing his head as he walked down the path. A green and out-of-place street sign read Via Appia. Blake glanced at the sign, squinting and reading it. ”Look, it says 'Vine Apple!' Maybe Grace and Eliza are in...an apple orchard!” Blake said, and it was rather hard to tell if he was serious or not. ”Well, let's split up and look. I guess I'm heading to the apple farm...I'll send up a flare if I find anything, so keep an eye out for that,” Blake was casually, before turning. ”Oh, look, TV screen! I wonder if we're on the news!”
Blake was, in fact, not on the news. The news was not on at all. What was on was a live recording of Nero, watching with glee as the heroes struggled to come up with a plan. ”Oh, I'm afraid nobody is going to watch you die. Except my client, of course, but they aren't inclined to help you, anyway.” Nero laughed. ”But I might as well let you get to watch your friends die while you struggle around my wonderful arena! Isn't that nice of me?”
"Yeah, that's pretty cool, thanks man-...oh, WAIT A SECOND!”
Nero laughed as he flicked a detonator in his hand a few times, sending an electric pulse through the rack that Grace and Eliza were currently tied to. It looked almost like some sort of fence, obviously electric, as it sparked blue, causing Grace's body to jolt, her eyes shooting open. It wasn't enough voltage to be too painful, of course, but it was enough to wake them up, and Grace's eyes shot open suddenly with the voltage, immediately taking in the room. It was some type of office, with a lovely Tunisian carpet, green wallpaper and weapon racks everywhere, and a large metal safe against the wall behind a work desk cluttered in paperwork. Even villains had to do paperwork. Look at that.
Grace groaned as she blinked her eyes a few times, looking into the camera that was facing her. Nero was laughing. ”Now, Bypass, how does it feel to be held hostage, thus forcing your friends to fight ogres to the death in an elaborate Roman deathtrap?”
Grace looked over at her arms and legs, which seemed to be zip-tied to some sort of device. "Not good. Can they hear me?"
”Yes, they can. Tell them how you feel! Or how handsome I look in this armor!"
Grace took a deep breath before immediately setting off into a long and very quickly-spoken rant. "GUYS THE WINGS OF LAW KIDNAPPED US AND WANT US DEAD, THE WATER GIRL CHOKED ME OUT WITH A WATER BUBBLE, TELL THE DIRECTOR, AND ALSO, LOMBARDO'S OGRES ARE REALLY SENSITIVE TO LIGHT SO IF YOU WANT TO BEAT THEM MAKE SURE YOU SHINE SOMETHING BRIGHT IN THEIR EYES, THEY RELY HEAVILY ON THEIR SENSES SO IF YOU CAN OVERLOAD THEM YOU CAN TAKE THEM OUT FOR A WHILE-"
Grace's fast and loud rant was cut off by Nero pressing a button on the remote he was holding, delivering an impressive shock to Grace. She gave a screech that would make an adult screech owl proud as her body jolted for a few seconds, though she was still bound to the electric fence contraption. The blue flickering lasted maybe 10 seconds before it stopped, with Grace hanging limply from the fence. Nero glared. ”That's for messing up the plan. And this-" He gave poor Eliza a quick zap, not as prolonged (only a second or two) but just as painful. ”-is just because I find it amusing. Can you believe they sell these for only a couple hundred bucks on the dark web...so useful for torturing prisoners. Well, good luck!" And with that comment, the screen turned to black.
Blake turned back to the gang, eyebrows raised. "Only thing I caught out of that was Wings of Law...I know they hate us, but paying for a villain to kidnap us and torture us? Fuck..." Blake turned around, his mouth gaping as he saw the pack of ogres approach- about 20 or so, wearing tattered loincloths and holding crude clubs and spears of wood in their hands, hooting at the gang. Blake clenched his fists. "You guys run off and find Grace and Eliza. I'll deal with them. What did she say they were sensitive to, again? Kites? Alright, I got this...” Blake said with a grin, putting both palms together. He then gestured forwards, flames billowing from his hands to form a diamond of fire, a ribbon of smoke trailing behind it. Blake had made a fire kite.
The brightly-burning fire kite caused the ogres to hoot and fall back, clenching their eyes and running away from the fire kite, which was currently aggressively chasing them. Blake grinned. "Hahah, look at those losers, they're scared of kites! Damn, I'm good. Anyway, what was that plan again?"
Hugo Powers was not having a good day today.
First of all, the Zero raid at Armstrong & Armstrong that he had failed at stopping. He was so close, and he had let them slip through his fingers once again, letting them get away with something, another piece of the puzzle. Once again, HERO was in the dark on this mysterious organization's goals and plans. Zero was winning over HERO. This was a bad start to the day.
On top of that, Caustic had decided that he would also strike today by killing Rainbow Dancer, an admittedly very guilty and very bad hero, but a very popular one nonetheless, on live TV. Rainbow Dancer might not have had many accolades in the HERO business, but he had tons of fans. Tons of them. His confession and subsequent execution had caused the HERO lines to be flooded by scores of angry fans demanding Caustic's recapture, and an official HERO alert had been sent on, calling all heroes to HERO One for an emergency briefing on Caustic. HERO One was currently on maximum defense, with a vast majority of the heroes present at the titanic headquarters. If Caustic was foolish enough to attack, it would be his demise. Powers doubted that, but he also knew that keeping everybody at HERO One kept them safe and organized for the time being as he planned out the organization's next moves.
On top of that, though, Powers' authority was being questioned. Seraph had sent Powers a very angry e-mail demanding special protection services for the members of the Wings of Law and other elite HOGs. Powers had responded by saying that hiring special HERO bodyguards for other heroes was not allowed by the organization, to which Seraph did not respond. Powers had enough to deal with right now, and he did not need Seraph's whiny ass bitching about his own safety. If he was as strong as he said he was, he wouldn't need a bodyguard unit. Of course, Seraph was not out on the streets right now. He was holed up in his penthouse under heavy protection. Heavy protection. Powers didn't even understand why he needed heroes to protect him when he had three bodyguard services doing it already.
And lastly, Powers was missing a group of heroes. The usual gang of suspects when it came to tardiness, true, but something didn't add up. They had been at a very wild party the night before, and could be recovering into the morning, but there was something wrong there. Some of his more reliable heroes, less inclined to attend such a rager and drink extensively at said rager, were also absent from HERO One without a word, which was unusual. On top of that, one of Starbright's personal secretaries had called him and informed him that they were not at the von Brandt residency, which was where Powers knew the party had gone on. Powers was fairly certain they were safe from Caustic, but the fact that they were still missing troubled him.
Powers was currently in his office, wearing a heavy robe of thick fur, several empty mugs (along with one half-full one) of hot chocolate sitting on his desk as Powers reviewed a tape of Rainbow Dancer's execution over and over again, looking for any clues, hints, anything, to help Powers find out what the man was up to, and more importantly, where he was up to. An ICOSA agent had sworn that Caustic was in the East Flank, but the lead had turned cold. After a long while of searching, Powers shut the laptop, walking out to the elevator and riding it down to the first floor. He needed some fresh air.
As the Director stepped out the front doors of HERO One, a hero known as Dangerous Bumblebee (he was C tier and not exactly dangerous) ran up to him with concern in his eyes. "Director, there's something moving towards HERO One!"
Powers groaned. He did not need another headache today. "What kind of something?"
"I think a person, sir."
Powers groaned as he walked over to where the hero had guided him to. Bumblebee pointed at a fast-moving...thing speeding towards HERO One. On closer examination, it was a person, wearing an all-black suit and moving towards HERO One at high speeds. This was not a good sign, and Powers was about to handle it in the way Powers did best.
He stood there, right in front of the speedster's trajectory.
Whether or not he made contact with Powers was irrelevant, as it didn't matter either way. Powers' superpower had allowed him to shrug off actual bullets and much more in the past, and a man moving at high speeds was certainly not going to be able to hurt him in the slightest. Powers simply stood still, arms crossed, as the figure blitzed towards him. Whether he hit Powers or stopped himself before, Powers didn't move at all, just standing, before reeling back one arm and slapping the man to the ground. There was a loud crack as Powers literally bitch-slapped the mysterious man in all-black across the face, with more than enough force to send him to the ground. Powers then approached the figure, arms crossed once again, towering over them, glaring down.
"You have ten seconds to tell me your name, occupation, and why the hell you're here, or else I put you in a cell with the meanest bastard in all of Coldwater. So if that idea doesn't sound appealing to you, start talking."
Entering Pandora's Potts was a young lady in her late 20s, with her short pinkish red hair pulled back, wearing a black Division X uniform, a black jacket covered in straps and buckles for holding equipment, a pair of black shorts with a heavy belt that carried two pistols, one on each side of the woman's hipps, and a pair of tall black boots, a combat knife strapped to the side of one of them. The woman, of course Christina Lavender, Assistant Director of HERO, and she looked around the flower shop, a small smile creeping onto her lips as she examined the interior of the store. It was nice. Cozy. Relaxing.
Christina tapped a counter a few times. She coughed to clear her throat, before speaking loudly, her voice bounding through the shop as she searched for the woman that ran the store. "Pandora? Are you in here? Or should I say, Mary?" Christina yelled out, smirking. That should've gotten her attention. From her belt she removed a HERO business card, a phone number and address (not like the latter was that hard to come by) written on in thick, block letters. Christina casually twirled the card in her fingers. "HERO is in need of some assistance, and you seem to fit the bill. Also, do you guys do wedding corsages and bouquets? I need those too. Oh, and I'll take these carnations, too. They look absolutely lovely. You take good care of the flowers here!" Christina kept babbling as she waited for Pandora to approach. Any moment now.
