The Cazador unit stared at Astrid's hand, zooming into the liquid that swirled and shined. Words and numbers scrolled up its HUD. Words like 'Breaker', 'Unknown metal', and 'Variable Density'. Words and numbers which Megahertz saw through one of her many screens.

The Cazador remained stoic in the face of Astrid's japes. "Follow me," it spoke, with a garbled voice that seemed not its own, and dashed. Towards the heart of Northbridge, around a corner, away from streetlights and the sun lamp, into an alleyway caged by corrugated metal and wire fences.

Above, in the shadows of the alley, three-slitted eyes lit up as half a dozen Cazadors decloaked all around her. One of the hounds leapt down right in front of Astrid, bearing horns and red eyes instead of green. It strode closer, then projected a cone of light from its head. A cone that flickered into a hologram, clad in a pointed hood and loose robes adorned with circular symbols. No face could be seen within the hood. Only pitch-black darkness, framed through a diamond-shaped opening.

"So you're the one who tore through the blockade in Bridge Street," the hologram spoke. It was a woman's voice, albeit deep as the abyss and reverberating with unearthly whispers. "I am Megahertz. I speak for JAHANNAM." She spread her arms, gesturing towards her army of chrome hounds as her voice was projected through every single one. "And we were watching."

The hologram circled her, with a gait that seemed almost gliding beneath her robes. "You were crude. Messy. And the collateral damage you've left behind will cost a fortune of time and money to SILENCE…!" She stopped as suddenly as she shouted, the whispers beneath her voice turned to wails and shrieks that faded into echoes.

Megahertz clasped her hands. She looked Astrid up and down as she rasped out a sigh. "...But I'd be a liar if I said it wasn't… inspiring," a glint of catharsis purred through her cold, machine tone. "Such spectacle and disaster you have left in your wake, Stranger. Who are you, and why have you come to Northbridge?"

"Cruaidín you say. Pretty sure I've already met her, levitating swords and shit right? Had a little tussle with her yesterday, after she brought Rat, and our eldritch ink monster into our green zone to duke it out with a fire mage. Good to have a name to put to the face though." Raudd replied while clearly being distracted by a some low hanging fruit, a bunch of cherries the size of oranges. He'd been steering his stag slightly off the path to snag them, though picking them actually required a swift application of the old axe to free the bunch from the branch. With no real place to store them he had contemplated hanging them from the antlers of the stag, however realizing that would have likely ended with both the fruits and him on the ground... And a very pissed off stag, he opted to sling the bunch over his shoulder.

"My sense of humor isn't the thing I lost those odd 20 years ago." He muttered to himself with a sigh. "But no, I think the idea of the only time Artemis the goddess of marital purity get's married it's to someone as faithful as Zeus, is quite hilarious." He comes back with a grin plastered on his face.

"Well, let's hope she doesn't have any grievous injuries she is just too numb to notice." Raudd replied to Archers announcement that Yue was still moving and had changed her direction back to Shieldtown, at a slower pace. Archer also seemed to finally stop trying to hurry the stag, he was half expecting to have been treated by the visual of Archer getting thrown off and charged by an angry stag by now. It had behaved itself surprisingly well, perhaps Zolya had whispered some words into it's ear to make it more obedient and more tolerant to Archers abuse.

---

Although Archer had been changing directions ever so slightly to go around some dangers that were lurking in the depths of the dark around here, it was very obvious to Raudd that the man was thinking hard about something, his normally cheerful and bubbly behavior was gone and the same was true for that smug grin that usually was plastered all across his face. Didn't take a genius to figure out what he was mulling over in his head, seemed like Yue was really giving him a headache there. Then again she's a speedster brute, that doesn't get to ignore physics and has trouble noticing when she hurts herself, that's a worrisome situation without the sudden upheaval of her view of reality to add onto that.

While Archers protection from the flying rock had been nice, it was also not entirely needed. He had noticed the thing, however given the creature they were dealing with avoiding the rock at range was only going to cause it to redirect it's trajectory, only by dodging at the last moment by the smallest amounts could you really avoid those rock boomerangs. "Magic fuckshit." He muttered under his breath as he dismounted near the wall not giving any further affirmation to the existence of the rock that had tried to cave his skull in.

When Archer mentioned Yue being with someone he trusted Raudd almost on instinct reacted with "Dean?" with an incredulous tone. "Actually, yeah that makes sense with his... Yeah. But I'll keep an eye on her and keep her company for a bit, just to make sure she isn't completely drowning in the magical fuckshit from you all... And if she's with Dean, that means she's right where I need to be anyways." He said with a sigh the reality of having to deal with the rogue assembly in the near future setting in.

Now let's see where you're 'hiding'... Oh yeah, big concentration of the laws of physics being bent over backwards and shattered to pieces. That's where they'll be. Between Golem, Dean, and Yue, it really wasn't hard to pick up where the lot of them were, she didn't quite cause as much chaos as just a day prior... Major improvement, but she still stood out to him like a palm tree in a rose garden. With 'sight' on the beacon secured Raudd made his way over to what to him appeared to be some random alleyway in the middle of town.

"Hey Dean, come to pick up Yue?" He casually asked trying to ignore the vague whereabouts he had of Golem, without intruding on the man's space before turning to Yue. "I know this is a stupid thing to ask someone that doesn't feel, but are you hurt from that tumble?" He asked while scanning her for anything more severe than the scrapes that she appeared to have.

"You know if I'd known Zolya's toy worked that well for you, I would've just pointed you to a good spot to run your way back out. That being said, there's a second Templar down here now and it would be best for everyone's nerves down here if you two left together."

---

---

Clearing the facility room by room was a slow, arduous task. Particularly when one half of the task force was sensory numb, blind, and deaf. They’d fallen back on gestures and sign language, and ID occasionally spelled out what she was trying to communicate in MG’s thermographics when her meaning simply did not translate.

Many of the rooms were filled with drifts of the glass-like crystalline powder they’d encountered at the entrance in small flurries. ID had taken a sample to be kept isolated in an enchanted and sealed container, but after encountering some Awakened moss in the hydroponics lab that was slowly crystallizing and disintegrating into the stuff, they’d agreed that “Sterilization” was the order of the day.

ID reinforced her Domain, spurred by the knowledge of the potential fate that awaited her should she have a lapse in concentration. She pushed it to the edges of the hallway and enveloped MG to help insulate her from any mental feedback, even though the floor complained about the large disparity in temperature. Most of the heat was directed in front of ID as she made slow progress down each corridor, lining the walls and every crack and crevice with searing blue flames without care to survivors or equipment.

The delicate balancing act of being hot enough to break down the magically charged silicate so her domain could forcibly re-aspect the crystallized haze, and also not melt the steel reinforced walls and bulkheads took all of her concentration. Such that when four figures ran into the intersection she was approaching, there wasn’t time to redirect the heat. They had substance for only a second or so before they were erased. She guessed they were most likely multi-sensory illusions, since it’d take an hour or more to fully cremate a real human body, even at the foundry level temperatures she was holding ahead of them.

"Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself, right?" She grinned beneath her mask. "Right?" ID repeated, glancing back at MG, who just gave a thumbs up in response. "Right. Right… Deaf partner," she sighed. What a waste of good Shakespearian humor.

Clearing all the spurs of the circular facility had taken quite some time, but they finally reached the threshold of the final chamber: the heart of the facility and storage area for some project numbered A-90T430S15. ID took a breath while MG keyed in the override behind her. She readied herself as the massive steel blast door shuddered and groaned: the heat had warped it just a little, and it probably wouldn't close properly after this.

ID braced, expecting a deluge of crystallized haze like they had nearly been buried under a few rooms back. However, besides the roar of heat blasting through the portal as it opened and disturbed a light dusting of the stuff, the room seemed relatively clean. ID eased off the temperature and consolidated her Domain to keep from fully erasing any magical traces that could be left behind. She signed for MG to hold the door just in case.

An enormous cylinder of white salt marble consumed the center of the facility. The top and bottom of the object looked as though it were beginning to splinter and branch into hundreds of roots before it disappeared into whatever Menagerie-made contraption was holding it in place. ID's luminous amber eyes raked the chamber; she tagged it as the heart of the [Warp] that had, until now, consumed the facility. As far as she could tell, the thing was inert, perhaps neutralized by the stress of the emanation it had caused... and if she'd taken that at face value, she'd be a fool.

She slowly circled the chamber's perimeter, running the flint skin of her fingertips along the transpari-steel barrier that once held myriad glyphs, wards, and charms. Enchantments that were crafted to keep this thing and its emissions segregated from the facility, since blasted by the psychic scream and eroded by the mind-aspected Mana Warp it had left in its wake.

"And what secrets do you think you can hide from me?" She whispered into the room as she peeled away the layers and layers of filters that blocked out most of the disruptive magical noise of the city's Ley Line from her [Dreamsight]. The pillar hummed with energy that pressed against her skin through the barrier; disconcerting, given that she felt it through the protection of her Domain. Swirls and eddies of disturbed mana thrashed around the chamber with storm-like intensity as she picked through them, isolating each yarn connected to the construct until she found the one that stretched out of the facility. ID sampled the haze of a cleverly masked spacial disruption as she stopped and turned her gaze directly onto the pillar for a long moment.

"Found you," she announced coldly, reaching up to pluck the thread.

A massive eye opened up on the pillar's marble surface. ID met the spaceless void of its four-pointed pupil unwavering. The room shuddered. In the [Immaterial], the gravity of ID's domain drew in the [Mind] aspected Storm and forced it to convert. The head of a massive winged serpent wreathed in incandescent fire bent low to meet the creature's gaze, and ID's eyes seared through the Astral like a pair of brilliant stars. There was a lurch of force. The transpari-steel barrier cracked between them.

Topside. Dark. It's raining. ID is holding someone's hand. Copper Drake is next to her. He's holding an umbrella for them but she still somehow managed to get wet.

He's trying his best.

They're waiting on a corner at a street light. Why? Right: her sister's graduation. They were there to pick her up. ID dare not move from the spot she was standing, and instead stared coldly ahead into the street at something Drake wasn't privy too.

"Aren't you excited? You're going to meet her in person," he asked, just like she remembered. Something in the tone of his voice felt forced. She stood stoic as headlights approached in the distance. You're wrong. It's coming down the wrong street.



The sky shuddered. She felt the moon open its eye above her, gold, grey, green and pink staring down at her. The sky bled ink, and it slowly spread over the sidewalk towards her feet as they approached in a shitty white cross-over that belonged to someone's mom. It's supposed to be a black limo.



The whine of an E-Cell turbine being taxed. An armored truck rushed into the intersection. This is mirrored.



She felt Drake flinch as the truck collided violently with the civilian car. The truck's reinforced bumper tore the crossover's front end off and it flipped three times before slamming into a light pole. Men with rifles pour out. Black uniforms. One of them is checking his magazine as they stack against the cover of the van: tranquilizer rounds.

No.

The ink was pooling against her designer flats, clawing its way slowly up her toes. One in the rear readying an isolation pod, another pulled a [NULL] talisman out of a tactical pouch. That's not right. The air tore as the ink lapped at her bare ankles. Right. Copper Drake hesitated just a moment too long. She felt a tug on her arm as he moved to go, and she crushed his hand in her iron grip as she remained steadfast.

The image froze, and for just an instant the scene she remembered so vividly flickered into focus. Drake was on her right, not her left. The crash was mirrored. Black Limo. Armored Soldiers. Insignia: Stylized cross, red on white. She dared not look into whatever gaping void Drake was trying to pull her into. The street was flooding; ink crawled up her knees. ID's face furrowed into a scowl.

"Is that the best you can do?" The sheer brashness of her words cracked the reality she stood in, as she spelled out her intention in the air between her and whatever fucked creature of the void was watching with letters of searing heat. MG would know what to do.

Umbri forced herself still against her aversion to being wrapped in strange tiny hexagons until everything took on a tinge of blue. Aegis squeezed her shoulder, she saw the humanity leech from Jemma's eyes, and despite her stomach dropping she knew this wasn't her stepping off a cliff. She'd already done that yesterday. This was her still falling. The time for regrets was long, long past.

“Administering pain relieving agent now.”

Umbri snapped upright and wiggled as a tentacle slipped under her jacket and up her back. The base of the tentacle pulsed. Something tingling passed through her skin. Nothing followed. She watched her arm be swallowed into the maw, and wished she'd looked away, like she'd have the sense to in any other medical procedure. Medical procedure. It was hard to connect that concept to what was happening to her as the mouth widened and its shadow crested over her head and -

She was inside. Fangs rested against her bobbing throat. It was wet in here, and cold, it shouldn't be so cold in a dog's mouth. It smelled artificially sanitary, and... ancient. Like the waiting room at the dentists. Her breath was loud in this cavern. The tingling resurfaced across her whole body and a cloud fogged up her brain. When instructed to move her leg, she was amazed that she still could.

"Beginning procedure."

Please don't do this to me!

A dull pressure sunk into her neck. Umbri's body jerked. Her crutch fell to the side. The neon veins that had been choking out her body were pumped with ink, throbbing and turning a necrotic black.

It wasn't painful. She felt more pain from the tattoo on her wrist, but she could still feel it. She could hear it. A million worms weaving under her skin. Thick and cold as they released into her, like a vaccine. Her fingers twitched against the cilia in the maw. Struggling between making it end, and reaching for the cure that was just a moment in time away. Stop it stop it stop it stop it I'll die I'll DIE I won't I won't I won't it will kill me stop it stop it the monster will kill me STOP this is how I LIVE.

A rumbling. A voice from outside and within Umbri's pod interrupted her fight.

"Note: Patient and Surgeon will experience temporary nervous system synchronization. Surgeon requires synchronous communication between Ink and Patient Nervous system to coordinate proper antivenin distribution and acclimation."

"What?" Umbri dribbled.

"Patient may speak through Surgeon, Surgeon may speak through patient. Surgeon apologizes. Sincerely unforeseen requirement. [PROMISE] remains unbroken.”

Umbri blinked, dragging herself through the brain fog to make sense of what was happening, and the only thing she could do to protect herself was a fearful, "No-"

And it was quiet.

She was floating in a calm sea. She couldn't even feel the sludge taking over her body, or mind the imposter in her head. She was safe, everything will be fine, she was doing great... Then everything began to rush up. Like water surging up to a fissure. Like static. Like the heartbeat in her ear against a pillow. She felt herself fall at the end of a dream as her mind and Jemma's well and truly clicked.

Umbri woke back up in reality gasping. Only, this wasn't hers.

She didn't know how long she had been here. Yesterday, she was dead in a ditch. Tomorrow she was a kid with dirty hair playing in the gutters. Today it was black, and it was black before and black forever. Nothing else existed beyond it, no time, nothing, this was it, forever. But something touched her, something from beyond the black - something - [RESOLVE-UNCERTAINTY-small-CONCERN]. He had a name and a face, but Umbri couldn't reach for it now, there was a spot he occupied in her memory that was now a glowing mess that leaked everywhere and smelled good.

"What is happening?" She rasped. The sound rumbled all around her, as the creature she was being consumed by parroted her. And other voices - other voices beyond the black. She tried to call out to [Fury]. He burned close and smelled like a thunderstorm. But it was impossible to tell where he was, not while being trapped inside the black and cocooned in maddening [worry-intrigue-focus-purpose-APATHY]. Umbri's eyes rolled back, as she turned them inward.



They spoke almost in unison, overlapping. Vocal cords tightened and flexed in Jemma's body to find Umbri's voice. In that word, [Promise], in the way it left Umbri's mouth, she knew innately for reasons beyond her that there was power in it. It settled on her tongue like the low thud of a boulder underwater.

A shape pressed on Jemma's skin, coming from the inside, a face.

"Oh. Hey," Yue muttered, glancing up at Raudd for a moment before giving the ground a guilty expression. "Sorry for running off I just...," felt caged. Overwhelmed. Trapped. Angry. "Needed to clear my head."

She wiggled all her fingers and toes and checked her arms. "Everything still moves... gonna have a few neat looking bruises though," she commented.

God. Did everyone see her fall?

"This?" She chimed, rolling the medallion over her knuckles like she'd seen Dean do with the jade piece. "The shape and... texture of it kinda seems to respond to my thoughts," she mused, and a ripple flickered through the barrier like a muscle twitch. For a moment a braided pattern rippled over her arms like scales. "I need something to secure it though, too easy to drop without some kind of chain or strap," she mused.

"Why... does it not do that for Zolya?" She asked, distracted by some pinprick of light off in the distance like the ignition of a star but... underground. She almost missed the mention of the second Templar, which seemed to snap her back into the present. Yue raised an eyebrow.

"Second Templar?" She asked, with a note of surprise. How did anyone even figure out she was down there? "Guess I better sit still for a bit," she muttered grumpily, suddenly feeling like a lost kid at the mall.

Temujin watched, rooted and helpless at the sight of ink and flesh, bound and melded in an inhuman ritual. Every nerve in his brain and every bone in his soul screamed at him to launch and strike, to cast aside Umbri and Jemma’s protestations and - as far as he was concerned - save an innocent woman from the deception of a horrid, Graves-borne aberration. The latter’s chronicling of the procedure, delivered through a tone so clinical and eerie juxtaposed against the ripple of ink and Umbri’s dazed mutterings sent a churning sensation in the pits of the cyber ninja’s guts.

“D-Dove…?” Graham asked, pale and wide-eyed beside Koba. She spoke like his apprentice, burned with her spirit, and yet this… thing she became was so far removed from the young girl he knew. He stepped back, his mind clouded by doubts and questions which had remained unanswered… until Koba laid a hand over the blacksmith’s back.

The man-ape stood his ground, his gaze unwavering from Jemma. Sympathy furrowed his brows, despite the mysteries that still plagued his mind. (“That’s our Dove, Graham. Give her a chance, and you’ll see.”) Koba’s hand wandered to his chest as he finished his sign. He brushed aside the fur to stroke at the bars and numbers scarred into his chest.

Temujin turned his head towards Alex. "If… anything happens to her, you better do the right thing," he demanded. He glanced from the corner of his vision, towards the face, stretching and moving beneath the monster's skin. Umbri's face. Green rings briefly glimmered within Temujin's eyes, and a nearby set of pliers rattled upon the desk. A flicker, nothing more.

---

A neural network, a spider's web of neurons and synapses and chemical receptors and nerves, branching out into infinity. A face.
The [patient], pressing a face, unbidden, against the flesh. Changing it beyond will.
Fear. Confusion. Mind trying to break, being held together by tape and sheer willpower. Determination beyond the likes of which it had ever seen.
The [patient] spoke, overriding it’s control, a sensation not unfamiliar, but not felt in years either.
Time. A concept so abstract, so… unsustainably unusual. It became familiar, understandable, comprehensible. A small eternity, the agonizing trickle-tickle-tick-tock leaning from one second, to the next second, to the next second…

The [surgeon] never wavered. Let the [patient] speak through it, give the [patient] an outlet. There was work to do. Another face arose, younger, but no less different from the first.

A memory. Played out like it was happening again. [TRAUMA], like a pheromone trail, dragging the overwhelmed Umbri, and the apathetic J-3, down a lane of recollection.
‘Memory lane’, if the street was cracked and torn, if the houses were muddy, foggy, and filled with vines and ink and bone and steel and-

She was too young for this. Standing beside a dumpster, baby in arms, staring at a billboard that danced. Exhaustion laid in her bones, pulling at her everything-
It skipped.
Trapped! She couldn’t get away! [HER-NOTSAFE-WHY-WHY-WHY?!] had her by the hair, kept pulling her around! The bruise on her face ached like a broken bone, a broken heart-
It skipped.
”NO! Fuck off! Stop!” As her arms, her hands, barely able to hold back a blade, grew weaker by the moment. The gravel of the alley bit into skin, into the back of her head. She almost had enough air to scream-!
It stopped.

Anger bloomed.

Stop! Hey! Back off-
Another memory rose.
The thresher. Beaten, being butchered right before her eyes. [GUILT] swallowed everything in her, oppressive in its weight around her throat, in the turn of her stomach. She was responsible! She did this. All of these memories? She was-
It. Better. Stop!

In the space outside the memory, outside the dream, in the realm of the [BODY] and not the [MINDS], ink pulsed. It streamed over two bodies, as one shrank, and shrank, and shrank. J-3 became more human, allowing more of the tentacles that held it up to fuse together into two legs.
Eyes melded back into the body.
Wings vanished.
Horns rose, shifted, and then sank away.
Claws and talons and fangs, returned to humanities normalcy.

It’s mouth opened, as if to opine something… Before it all changed.

Ink swarmed over Umbri’s body, pulsing along with the rhythm of two hearts beating in perfect sync. Venom was annihilated, an anti venom pouring through veins and chasing the necrotic death back into nothing.
Internal damages were mended, stitched back together by ink and focus.
A third face, Umbri’s true face, was exposed, as Jemma well and truly grew angry. Again. Wow.
The maw that had contained Umbri’s head, arm, and shoulders, shifted. It instead became a scorpion's tail of the largest degree, with its stinger-tip just barely sank into the back of Umbri’s neck.
Her arm was no longer enveloped, instead, it came to rest on the top of Jemma’s bowed head. Hypersensitive nerves in her scalp and her hair noted every twitch and change.

You absolute fucking idiot! How dare you! Where is your kindness? She’s freaking out! We don’t scare for no reason! Protect these people! Idiot! Idiot idiot idiot!
A pair of minds, tangled together by [INK] and [MAGIC], were yanked out of a shattered and crumbling memory scape.
Fury raged in her veins, at the sheer unfairness of it all. Who the hell did this to her? To this poor girl? She didn’t deserve it! Didn’t deserve to have all this fear and hurt and pain and scarring! What the fuck?! What gave them the right?!

Jemma’s voice, in the ‘dream’ and out of it, rumbled and roared into the air. Distorted by ink, warped by wrath.
“I fucking [PROMISED] no harm to her! What the HELL ARE YOU DOING?! I will destroy you! She needs rest! How dare you! How dare you harm her! She deserves none of it! What right do you have?! May my fang and claw sunder your flesh! Ruined so much for her for what?! FILTHY FUCKING STREET-SAMURAI! LOCKDOWN?! LOCKDOWN! I’ll ruin you! Ruin everything you ARE. FAILURE OF MOTHERHOOD! RIP YOUR MIND INTO MINE! SUFFER AS SHE HAS AT YOUR HAND!”

Jemma distantly heard a voice, someone outside of this joined space, away from this protective fury, yelp.
Koba? No. Graham? No… Names and faces were fading again. Time was becoming a slippery nothing. Again.
She WANTED to keep her hold, but… No. Not at the expense of another. Never at the expense of another.

The woman knew she sounded crazy, she knew she was shouting without preamble or warning. But… the Anger of it all. It was so stupid! It was unfair! This girl didn’t deserve that! And she didn’t deserve to see that! Have it torn from a mind unprepared! This should’ve been a conversation!

In the ‘dream’, one of two minds raged. [MIND-SIEVE-COMMUNE] bloomed in the astral, weaving a shaky spell. Nerves and Aetherial [connections] spun a dream-catchers shape, laying intent and purpose down as easy as cards on a table.
Jemma forced herself past the uneasy feeling of ‘haven’t done this before’ and focused instead on ‘must do this now.’
She spoke again, through Umbri’s throat, as the spell slowly worked its way. Her voice, audible within the dream and without.
“Hey! Hey no! You’re okay! You’re not gonna die. It’s okay. You have yourself, now, and I’m out. It’s just muscles and nerves now, no minds. You’re okay. Breathe. Slow. I can’t and won’t do it for you. But you have to breathe. I know you can. C’mon.”
Jemma’s voice was alive now. Lacking that clinical apathy. She laid out a rabbit-crumb trail. Led the little bit of Umbri’s psyche that she was willing to touch back to stability. ‘Come along, this way to calm again, this way to you disconnecting from me, disconnecting from you’, but with neurological action.

“We have to walk ourselves away from eachother. Okay? What’s happening right now, is I’ve disconnected the, um, memories. You won’t get dragged into yours anymore. Okay? It’s okay. I can’t just cut our connection, I don’t want to hurt you. So you have to calm down, and breathe, and ‘walk’ away with me. It’ll be easy! I [PROMISE]. Listen! Like this! You can do it.”

Her own body abruptly hitched a breath, sucking air deep into her lung for a count of four. Holding it for a count of seven. Letting it go for a count of eight.
Repeat.
In for four. Feel nerves of your own tingle, muscles of your own shift under your control.
Hold for seven. Let it ground and burn. Focus on the act. Bring it to yourself.
Out for eight. Let the fear and anger go, remember where you actually are. Unlatch your claws.

Oh. They were both crying. Ink. … Well shit.

Procedure complete.
What a shit show.
And only in four minutes! That could’ve… gone so much better.
She needed to puke…

---

"Well...," Ion trailed off, his normal bravado faltering for just a second. "Maybe one day when she lets go of the reigns a bit, yeah? And give yourself some credit. In my eyes, you are the most eligible bachelor and I'll make sure my fans know who's King around here," he winked and grinned, shooting Felix the finger guns unironically.

"Gotta scoot, Nightlight! Stay out of trouble," Ion ordered, as he lifted off the puke-smeared glass. Electricity crackled through his uniform as he shot off, buffeting their table's umbrella.

"Can I get a mimosa, a double shot of Jameson and a cup of ice to go please and thank you!" Dawn called out, flagging a waiter down.

Dawn stared at Felix with her arms folded and carried that resting bitch expression of a sibling who recognized that face of "oh yeah sis, I'm totally listening and comprehending, and am totally NOT about to go and do the opposite of what you just said just to be petty and annoying." You know... that expression that Artemis was usually leveling at HER whenever she was about to go off and do some dumb shit.

What the hell is my life and how did it come to this?!

"What's your plan, Nightlight? Put a decoy under the sheets and sneak out the window?" She asked, emptying the mimosa, whiskey, her leftover coffee, and the potent smelling contents of a flask from her purse into the cup of ice. Dawn covered the concoction and shook it vigorously while maintaining eye contact with Felix.

"Don't suppose we could just have a nice breakfast and spend the rest of the day playing hooky pretending our responsibilities don't exist and not, you know, go running towards all the death and chaos? No? Right. Of course not," Dawn sighed, stabbing the lid with a straw. She slurped down a large gulp and crunched loudly on an ice cube.

"Alright, fine. Let's go get into trouble!"

---

---

Pandemonium. Noun. A wild uproar or unrestrained disorder; tumult or chaos.

It was pandemonium.

Ares Special Task Force, Docwagon Platinum Response... gaping tears in reality rimmed with purple energy out of which ambulances and emergency response vehicles screamed, police fire and Templar, all armed and brandishing, all screaming for everyone else to stand down. In the middle of it all, a wildly out of place woman in a black designer dress trying to calm down a confused and terrified foreign dignitary that looked like he was suddenly ripped away from a gala or fancy charity event and holding open far too many portals from which a myriad of personnel streamed back and forth.

Curtains of electricity sprang up, crackling menacingly between the groups and pushing the corporate response teams away from the Templar. Ion descended to the plate surface dramatically, the four "eyes" of his stylized visor sparking brilliant blue.

"You're late!" the Director yelled over the cacophony of shouts and sirens.

"Sorry, Lady-Boss, had to stop and check on my King. I don't move as quick as your other first responders, yeah?"

"Yes, sorry, oop~!" she conceded with a sigh as she stumbled on her designer heels to get out of the way of a paramedic rushing past with a gurney. Ion leapt over four people to catch her.

"You simply must be more careful, my Queen!" he said, holding her hand gingerly and brushing a lock of disturbed platinum out of one of her mismatched eyes. He couldn't hide the smirk in his voice. She gave him the look that deserved. With a gut-wrenching falling sensation like he was being pushed through an infinitely small space, and the crack of displaced air, he was standing on the other side of his electric curtain with more Ares rifles than he was comfortable with pointed at him.

"I'm okay, get back to work Ion," the director's voice whispered in his helmet's comm speaker with a note of amusement. Ion smirked beneath his mask, though he couldn't help the spike of unease he'd felt at seeing the uncharacteristic dark circles under the director's eyes that were only just barely covered by a hasty application of makeup.

Everyone was working overtime.

"Alright, everyone calm your tits and get out of each others way," he shouted, his voice magnified through his suit's external vox. "We're all on the same fucking side here, so how about you take those cock-holsters off the trigger and start cooperating, we all have jobs to do!" He ordered with his fists on his hips, and much more bravado than he felt.

Kiran was disappointed at the lack of details they were able to procure, but did get something rather nice out of it. Someone with such a high natural pain toll Orange as to not go into shock after minutes of . . . peeling was worth collecting samples of.

A blink at the edge of his mind, like a fluorescent light flicking in the dark just outside your peripheral vision. What is that? Nothing in his cultivated systems and augments indicate if it’s there or not. A mental hallucination? No, there is a pressure, just behind the eyes. What is-

It Felt like the back of his skull exploded outward. And an ocean of [LIFE] spilled forth to engulf the room. Millions of years of evolution lanced through his brain in an instant, prey and predation in a never ending spiral all crushed into meat seconds.

Skin became scales, slick and rubbery, then feathered, fur and spines, all rippling in continuous patterns. Animal and beast became vegetation in mycelium, roots overcoming and twisting in natures’ eternal dance before a twisted and open mind.



Something touched him, not in the physical sense, but like all that was [Him] was grasped.
Alien, yet hauntingly familiar. Beautiful and terrible.

A mouse in the paw of a lion. more like the progenitor of all lions. I’m scared
It whispered and roared in too many voices.



What are you? He glimpsed it. He saw [THEM]. Only because It had given permission.
Kiran, he was Kiran, right? Had he forgotten for a moment? He was Kiran Kingsley. Not an insect before something inconceivably vast, ready to be pined and displayed like some cosmic novelty. An endless knot, a beginning, the twisting of a sea shell, the curling of a fern, the coils in the brain of every human that learned to walk upright.

[LIFE] plucked at his very being like it was a harp.

Skin, flesh, nerves, blood, bone. Kiran saw his own layers of his body pulled forward, like a school science textbook on anatomy.

The strings were tested and tuned.

He wanted to scream.

Mind, Body and Soul. All laid bare. So many eyes, so much [Presence] was he drowning? When had he stopped breathing?

---

Kiran woke up with a gasp. Coughing up fluid he couldn’t place and rolling to their side. Minutes passed before they uncurled from a fetal position. They were alone. Bodies still scattered about in twisted states of agony. A dead man swings from his chain like a hooked fish. What was that? "That . . . was new." Their voice was horse. shit had they been screaming? Better get out of here before anyone started snooping around. didn't want to be caught too soon.
Perhaps some form of episode. "No, far too vivid." Kiran collected themselves and went about gathering their things. There were more pressing matters to attend to and more information needed to find what had been stolen.
In their hurry, Kiran failed to see the [Spiraling] pattern all the blood had formed in the room, with them having been in the epicenter. Plants and weeds growing from the cracked floor along the drying crimson.

Umbri pushed into the unreality, intent to explore this world, new scents, new feelings, new [Sight]. The face stretched against Jemma’s skin. She wanted to cast the shroud from her eyes and see the things she sensed. [See.]

It felt like talons curled over her head, penetrated her forehead then YANKED, pulling her out of her body, as her consciousness was overridden by one much stronger than her, pulling her out of the black unreality and into something that felt real.

She was thrust into grimy sneakers, a parka, and a body that hadn’t cleaned itself in days. Umbri looked up from beside the dumpster in the memory that had been haunting her all day. But it wasn’t a memory, and it wasn’t a dream, either, she was here. Here looking up at the billboard of a dancing, naked woman that projected her future, only she didn’t know that was what she was looking at then. All she saw was the body of a woman, which she didn’t have.

The bundle in her arms squirmed. She looked down at her, at - [HELPLESS-PAIN-LOVE]. This wasn’t how she [Saw] then.

“I’m sorry,” she uttered, the voice seeping out the dream from the face on Jemma’s back. She moved to hold the baby to her chest, but the talons were back, ripping into her psyche and dragging her out of the memory.

She was pulled by the hair by the hijacker but [FEAR-RAGE-DANGER-LOVE] threw her down. The stink of the old apartment was even stronger than the pain of the bruises. Instantly she was twelve again. The baby cried in the next room. The animal dragging her back up by the head wouldn’t listen to anything she said, nothing unless it was - “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry-”

The intruder’s talons had her again. Pierced through the front of her brain, wrapped around her waist. Her world titled as they forced her back to slam on the apartment floor, through the floor, onto a dirty street. An almost unrecognizable figure straddled her. Umbri’s arms flung up to defend herself against a horrible shard of metal, slashing against her forearms and palms. "Get the fuck off of me! Stop! Stop! STOP!"

[CRAVE-DANGER-LOVELOVELOVE] screeched as she hacked at Umbri's chest. If she'd tried it earlier, she would've succeeded. But Umbri was bigger now. Even if under her, she felt so small. Her hand grasped the metal shard edging towards her chest, the sharp pain of it biting into her nothing compared to the burn in her throat from all her screaming. The monster's arms were so thin and frail now, it was almost sad. Her other hand edged towards the garbage they struggled beside.

The talons plunged through her chest and took the heart the monster coveted. Umbri's consciousness was thrown away from her memories into the dark.

She had a moment to breath.

A glow started to fill the empty void. Red and neon green. Rising up behind her. Umbri slowly looked over her shoulder, up at the Thresher, flaring its fins at her in a proud show of territory, before a spark of yellow burst from it and Lockdown severed her in two. Umbri screamed.

She was on the street watching Lockdown brutalize [SCARED-DESPERATE-DYING], trapped in time, with her own trophy weighing down her pocket. Her mind flashed violently between holding the axe, feeling the writhe of life beneath her and the shock up her arms as it went dead, and the monster, plunging that shard of metal at her chest.

Umbri was vaguely aware of the rushing in her ears and veins. That she was being unpeeled, and the shining figures she could sense before were open to her. But it was obvious, in the glazed look in her eyes and blank expression, that she wasn't present. The images she was assaulted by in her memory were crumbling apart. There was a roar around her as she was forced out. The hijacker on her back was angry.

It was like an earthquake in her head. She curled up, protecting herself from the shadows ripping at her. Jemma was shouting. "I'm sorry," she whispered, from her mouth within and outside the dream, intercutting the shapeshifter's rants ever so often.

Quiet.

The shaking stopped. Shadows ceased pulling at her. Umbri lifted her head.

She was on a floor of cracked glass, seated on a hundred reflections of herself, each slightly off and wrong. She was unable to find a single her among them. Above her and all around, was a haze like a galaxy. Electricity crackled in it, shooting from clouds across sinew, across... brain matter. And tangled in it all, was her hijacker. A dripping, inky octopus, with far more than eight tentacles all tangled up in the astral tissue Umbri now recognized as a part of her.

"Hey! Hey no! You’re okay! You’re not gonna die. It’s okay." Umbri heard her voice being used by the hijacker from outside the dream reach her in a strange echo. She didn't want to listen to it - she did hurt her. She wasn't okay. But she kept listening, and Jemma's voice took over, alive with empathy, and then... she heard that word again. [Promise.] Umbri got off the floor. The hijacker weaved one of its tentacles towards light blooming from an electrical storm, far off in the distance.

Umbri sucked a breath in for four counts, held it in for a count of seven, and breathed out for eight. Then she crouched down, slid her foot across the glass, and launched into a run.

She maintained the breathing pattern as she sprinted across the glass. It cracked under her heels, shooting out from under her feet like the lightning bursting over her head. As Umbri ran, time fixed itself into a line, there was a before behind her and her after was uncertain. The hijacker left her back, its massive shadow fading from her sky. The light grew brighter. Unspoken knowledge that overwhelmed her was fading away in every step.

Let!
Me!

---

Umbri's eyes fluttered. Her knees hit the ground as Jemma unlatched from her. The glow of emotion lingered over the figures in the room for a moment, then in a couple blinks, went away. Swiftly fading light spots. Her vision remained blurry. Umbri lifted shaky hands and turned them over as she inspected them. The neon veins that had reached all the way to her fingertips before were gone. The shapeshifter did it. She touched the wetness running down her cheek, and her fingers came back stained with ink. A sudden clench of her stomach was her fleeting warning before she curled over convulsing and spewing up an entire bucket of the black stuff.

"What th-" The workshop's sliding door was pushed open and a disgruntled balding man with feathers stuck to his coat stared at the unfortunate scene. "......... Well, nobody had Freya's number - the young miss Ako told me to tell you Aegis, if you'd given her Raudd's number already, she'd be able to pass the message along - so I've been shouting at BIRDS, hopefully one of them was the right messenger - the state of medicine in today's age - I have the materials for a cast in the meantime and WHAT IS GOING ON?!"

Umbri lifted her head, black dribbling down her chin. "I'm cured," she answered him weakly, and threw up a second time. She waved an arm in gesture, spitting up the last bits of inky sludge. "I have a... Half a sandwich in the bedroom, somebody... please."

She kept her head down. It was hot. She was too vulnerable and embarrassed to look at anyone. She didn't know what had manifested beyond the dream she'd been trapped in and how much these people, the majority of them strangers, witnessed. Especially Jemma. The woman had been on her back the entire time, a voyeur to Umbri's life and pain.

Pain that had passed. It was over. Time was back in place and the past wasn't hurting her anymore. Jemma knew? Who CARED! She was alive, she was alive, she was ALIVE!

Umbri laughed.

"Seriously," she pushed through the laughter, coming up to a sit and wiping a mixture of inky and watery tears from her face to smile, "I'm so hungry."

---

---

---

ID doubled down, staring boldly past the grizzly accident into the massive eye she couldn't see but knew was there. She felt the bones of Drake's hand and wrist crunch sickeningly in her palm, and his screams were discordant against the whispers of ink clinging coldly to her legs. She'd warned MG, now she just needed to buy a few moments for her to get out of the instant-death zone, or protect herself with her cryogenics.

Moments... how long had it been? Time was getting slippery. It was moving both too quickly and agonizingly slow, and Drake's flesh sizzled in her hand at the effort of standing her ground. Lines and lines of script in some terrible parody of 'language' streamed from the ghastly black sclera of the moon. Droplets of prismatic oil splashed into the rising ink as the sky bled black.



A spark, a flame. Electrical fires were bad. A noise, a thought, a scream of [Terror-Dread-Axiety-I'm stuck-Let me out-LETMEOUTLETMEOUT] shuddering through the Manasphere. Fingers sinking into newly born Astral flesh, clawing, tearing-



Black uniforms converge on the car, a ripple through the Manasphere, a voice, a call, a question, a [PROMISE], a [PACT]. They're prepared for an awakening, but not like this. When she was there she'd seen it as a fountain of [Silver] light. Her [Sight] had been too narrow, she didn't have the right perspective the right... The night sky erupted in [Silver] fire. No. ID's eyes flicked up involuntarily, and she made eye contact with it. Familiar and alien, she was petrified under the weight of its amber eyes burning through the Manasphere like pale moons that were far too close.

A beast that encompassed the sky, the [Moon], the chill pressure crushed every muscle and bone in her body, and she couldn't breathe against the weight... what others felt making eye contact with her, only magnitudes greater. It spread its dread wings, wreathed in [Silver] light that made everything it touched [Sing]. A trickle of blood seeped out of the corners of ID's eyes as it folded and compressed and condensed until the vehicle's driver was wreathed in blinding [Silver], thrashing in berserk fear.

She ripped through the side of the car, and the sheer blind force bent her arm at unnatural angles. She was out. All terrifying speed and blind [horror-panic-SURVIVAL]. The soldier with the tranquilizer rifle unloads. She SCREAMED.



The sheer [Force] clawed and ripped painfully at the half of ID that existed in the Manasphere until she thought she might black out. The only thing holding her upright was the cloying ink burbling against her abdomen. Four members of the fire team rag doll to the ground. Hard to say if they're still alive. One keeps pumping her sister full of tranq rounds while in a fighting retreat. For a short eternity she's a bundle of unstoppable fury and [FORCE] until one of them ignites a [Null] talisman and the whole street goes dark. The [Silver] light petered out and she staggered a few steps before collapsing.

ID pulled a ragged breath, and closed her eyes and mouth as the ink pulled her under. Was this the [Truth]? She'd been there. Lived it. She had perfect recall, and had re-lived that memory many times wondering if she could have done something... anything, if she had just stood her ground. Drake had ripped her away from the surface before she had a chance to act.





ID felt the ink claw at her eyelids, trying to worm its way into her nostrils and ears, and pry her mouth apart to coax her to drown. All the while she sank further into the black, drifting amongst the discordant choir of whispers all around her. The cold intellect of an alien mind pressed in all around her, forcing thoughts of doubt... betrayal. The [Mind] aspect was a tricky thing... but the best defense was knowing what was real.

Máire remained still and silent for a long moment, eyes fixed on the woman of the wood. Invisible processes behind her eyes tracking the movement of every wolf and bird "Scribble-Ma'am" kept with her, watching for any sign of reinforcements or attempted deception. Repeated attempts were made to tag everything in Máire's field of vision. Hundreds of tries per cycle and hundreds of cycles over a few hundredths of a nanosecond, only for each tag to vanish nearly the same moment it was applied. Only the tags on Rat and "Scribble-Ma'am" seemed to persist, for whatever reason. Máire narrowed her eyes slightly at the headache she could feel coming on.

She sighed, and the swords vanished, the cloud of silver dust left in their wake visible only by the faint glimmer of light reflecting off its incalculable specks as they drifted back home, disappearing on contact with Máire's skin. "Fine then," Máire relented. "Perhaps she'll stay still this time. I'm getting tired of running blindly."

Clearing the facility hadn't been difficult. Though it was the lack of any opposing force that was putting MG more and more on edge. To top it all off, the white noise was starting to give her a headache. the idea to switch to a playlist with the volume set loud had crossed her mind. But the chance of anything she was hearing being fucked up in translation wasn't worth the irritation. God she hated mind games. The fact that illusory effects were not taken seriously by a good chunk of supers was bad enough, the fact that there was very little in the way of psychic blocking tech outside of more cutting edge or hyper invasive tech didn't help much either. all fun and games until you couldn't trust your own senses. The slick feeling crawling across her skin was just sweat. Nothing else.
The few times ID seemed to try and talk to MG were met with shakes of the head. The limited communications was a tactical nightmare.

While this was a research facility, and it was valuable for any number of reasons well above her pay grade, that wasn't going to stop her from planting plastic explosive in every room cleared as ID left said room. Nothing like a little C4 ready to make you feel a bit better. Granted, she already wanted to just leave and blow the place to hell. But Noooooo. have to check the last room for . . . . . whatever was in there. Speaking of-?



. . . . Okay. Nora had seen a lot of shit. Before and during her time working with Menagerie. Powers were busted, tinkers are bullshit, esper's are just bullshit. You would think one would get used to it. Nope. Whatever was in the center of the room didn't make much sense on thermals and was making it feel like her brain needed to be itched.

Ah. That's the-? Nora didn't get the chance to finish the thought. While keeping an eye on ID's six, A word burned bright in the air lighting MG's thermals up. a flick across her HUD confirmed the rapid increase in the rooms temperature.

FUCK.

Message received loud and fucking clear.

Spinning on her heel. MG fell into a crouched position facing the door. The servos in her suit screamed as safeties were shut off and system warnings were flicked away. She bolted off in a dead sprint, heavy boots slamming into the ground as the Equal Brute Exoframe helped her fly down the corridors. Permafrost followed in her wake. Miniature glacier walls and sheets of ice ground out of the floor, walls and ceiling. crashing into each other to form bulkheads separating Nora from What was essentially a supernova in the shape of a pissed off Asian woman. She didn't dare slow down. With no sure way to tell how little time she had to spare, any turn she might have had to make was instead made with the help of curved ramps of ice and her boots spikes. All explosives were subsequently armed as they were passed.

Skidding to a halt at the elevator, All she could see behind her was covered in white. Not good enough. The growing point of heat further into the facility heralded what was coming. MG had few options. Well, she had one option. This was going to suck. She placed her hands to the ground and took a deep breath before sealing her suit off. Internal oxygen on and suit heaters turned on to max, She shut off thermals, not daring to open her eyes in case of any more mind games. the last thing she saw were the dangerously fluctuating vitals of ID on her HUD.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Ice bloomed outward and enveloped MG. It surged like it was alive, filling the room from corner to corner. But it wasn't just ice, but cold. Something well beyond the chill of Winter though. An unnatural stillness set in. Everything but Nora in the room just before the elevator was frozen into a truly immovable state. Total Molecular stillness the lab techs had called it. Naturally impossible of course outside of human intervention. Even with heaters on full, A numbness was already beginning to set in to Nora's extremities. Her world nothing but numb silence for as long as she could hold it. "Gods dammit you better make this quick before I freeze to death." Her teeth didn't chitter only due to what heat her suit could provide and years of exposure training.

---

---

Dark. How long had she been holding her breath? A minute? An hour? In the black as the cold pressure mounted and the discordant whispers grew louder. Too much. Had she gone too far? Her limbs refused to listen to her commands to move, or do anything. ID was locked in a deadly battle of the [Mind] that she wasn't winning. She wasn't experienced enough with the [Mind] aspect to fight back on even ground. Clearly she was on this thing's territory but... it wasn't there...

A mental assault powerful enough to subdue her... through an [Astral Proxy] via remote viewing?

That was some next level shit she wasn't sure she could compete with... she needed something she could [See]. If she could re-contextualize the battle, though... flip it. If she could just [See] where it was... [See] it... It can [See] her, influence, [Touch] her... would this even be a fight if it were in the room?



Honestly, probably not. Her nickname within the organization was "Miss Ashlands." Mother had spared no expense importing tutors and instructors, particularly when it came to martial casting and combat. Her defense arrays were nearly impenetrable, she was an expert in counter-casting and had near absolute-control over the mana inside her Domain.



She was over complicating the problem... or rather, the problem was over-complicated for the answer she wanted.



What's actually happening right now? Used, betrayed, left to die.

Under psychic attack. She might not actually be sinking into an endless depth of ink, on the verge of drowning, but if she tried to breathe it may as well have the same result: it'd allow the caster's influence deeper into her body and her assailant could arrest her vital functions and effectively drown her. The only thing preventing that right now was the Domain barrier she had wrapped closely to her skin.

What exactly was she dealing with? [...]

Muriel was a Paracausal research facility. ID understood that to mean that they delved into Astral and soul science... spirit stuff. Spirits... Spirits, even incredibly powerful ones that manifest physically into our world were fundamentally Astral beings, to be combated with Astral weapons and means.



Non-ritual magic, for the most part, had to be practiced on a target that could be [Seen]. How did it [See] her?

Remote viewing.



Specifically? [Astral Proxy]. It's a specific type of Projection that uses an Astralform like a router extension or a signal repeater to send data back and forth to the caster.

ID flinched, forcing her racing mind to go silent lest the creature hear one of her stray thoughts. It was there... after a fashion. It was a small finger hold in this avalanche. Might be enough to flip this fight on its head... if she could just break through.

Restraint... always restraint. Take care to watch your emotions, might hurt someone you care about. Limit your output. Don't be a danger to yourself, or others. This world is fragile. You are a an open flame in a world made of polystyrene. Right now, she was focused on staying alive, and that hesitation to exceed certain thresholds was going to get her killed.



ID dug deep, pushing past barriers on limiters on restrictions and reaching for that burning globe of [Light-Creation-Shines From Heaven] she constantly felt distantly muted through the miles of rock and steel. She felt the INK claw at her flesh, trying to pull her under farther, deeper into the crushing depths. Her fingers grazed the [Sun]. For a moment it seemed frustratingly out of reach... It leaned into her hand, and she closed her fist around it.



ID's eyes snapped open, and she wriggled against the talons of ink that immediately clawed at them. She was clutching something in her hand, struggling to muster the power to move as she pulled currents of mana from around the room and layered [Fortification] in a lattice throughout her flesh. She ripped free, pulling Ildsjel from its enchanted scabbard. Less a sword, more a braided leather hilt with just enough space for a firm one handed grip, a sun relief on the pommel, and a snarling dragon's head clutching a large, lucent crystal in its jaws.

A [Flare] of heat violently lacerated the chamber, burning away the ink and turning every surface incandescent as form and cohesion rapidly began to lose meaning. She whipped the weapon across the room like a dagger. The transpari-steel barrier peeled away, rapidly melting like snow in a glass furnace as the weapon embedded into the creature's ghastly four-pointed eye. Gouts of flame and smoke erupted from her mask as her breath returned in fits and she staggered to maintain her balance, weaving a quick [Shadowsnap] to pin the creature's proxy in place. For just a moment she breathed, drinking in the rays of incandescence from Ildsjel's [Sun] crystal.

Rivers of molten rock and metal began to poor from the ceiling and walls as ID pressed the attack, violently seizing the thread of mana tracing back to A-9's real self. A place opened up in her vision. It clutched the crater wall, pressing itself up part-way into the plate super-structure through a gap left by neglected maintenance somewhere. Finally... a target. She might only have one shot. Make it count.

A-9's salted marble surface cracked and splintered as it thrashed against her [Shadowsnap], and the crushing pressure of her Domain reflected its screams back in on itself. ID's Astral self coiled around her arm as she rushed forward, skipping across pools of vigorously boiling steel to slam her palm into Ildsjel's hilt.

For a moment, the facility was engulfed in a flash. A massive *CRACK* reverberated through the cliffside as super-heated plasma struck the glaciers of ice MG had left behind to shield herself. Metal and rock groaned, and insane heat blasted out of the facility's main entrance, striking the Absolute Zero of the elevator landing and condensing into voluminous stormy clouds that filled the Abyss. The enormous winged serpent of ID's Astralform raced along the road back to A-9's true body, devouring the distance in the blink of an eye. Incalculable heat erupted from its maw, both Astral and Material, as they collided. For a long minute, molten rock and steel rained from the plate ceiling.

Astrid tried to watch with disinterest as the robotic mutt ran off, instead she felt an inexplicable need to follow the creature, even though her sister had advised her against following strangers to secondary locations. Biting the inside of her cheek, she mulled her options over. It could have easily been a trap, certainly, but at this point she was basically lost, clueless as to where in Northbridge she could find the people she was looking for. The robo-dog, at least, seemed to be headed somewhere, the question was whether or not it intended to try and eviscerate her once they were there.

There was only one way to find out. The engine of her bike hummed along, almost silently as she followed the canine further into town, around a corner, and into a dark alleyway. More hounds came pouring out of the proverbial (and literal) brickwork. They all appeared the same, except for one, which joined her on street level. Despite being veritably surrounded, she felt relatively nonplussed. The most pressing issue was whether or not they'd damage her bike if things got dicey.

The robotic hound that was not like the others emitted a beam of light. The light coalesced into a video feed, cloaked figure staring back at her, a deep void where its face should have been. With a bored expression on her face, she resisted the urge to make a comment about the importance of a firm handshake when meeting someone for the first time. With the adrenaline from earlier starting to leave her, she wondered what time it was. She had ridden here nonstop from the Ripper's, if she was forced to hazard a guess, she'd have assumed afternoon, but the chronic fog made it hard to tell an exact time. Thinking about it for a moment, she realized she'd been awake for almost twenty-four hours now; she fought back the urge to yawn.

The individual in the projected video interrupted her thoughts with a proclamation. "So you're the one who tore through the blockade in Bridge Street, I am Megahertz. I speak for JAHANNAM."

Astrid's eyes lit up, her posture suddenly straightening out as she did her best to appear as if she hadn't just been daydreaming about where the best place to nap would be.

"And we were watching."

The projection started to circle her. She didn't move, letting the figure move in and out of her sight; watching Megahertz too intently would be interpreted as weakness. Instead, she forced herself to relax, standing with a casual ease while she waited.

"You were crude. Messy. And the collateral damage you've left behind will cost a fortune of time and money to SILENCE…!"

She rolled her eyes, ever so slightly, 'Starting to sound like Esme.'

"...But I'd be a liar if I said it wasn't… inspiring. Such spectacle and disaster you have left in your wake, Stranger. Who are you, and why have you come to Northbridge?"

With a smug look, Astrid scratched the back of her head, "Well, shit, if you thought watching was a thrill, you should enjoy a BD featuring some of my more... artisanal work." It wasn't often that people appreciated her; she'd been pulling her younger siblings out of the holes they'd dug so often, they had grown to expect it. The thought of her family reminded her why she was in Northbridge, and all mirth left her face.

"I'm looking for work, sort of... My," her middle and index fingers curled into air quotes, “superhero name,” her hands dropped to her side, one of them resting on her hip, “is really lame. It essentially translates out to fucked up monster, or something like that.” Her free hand started to nervously fidget with a stray strand of her hair, like it always did when she thought about the name the SPA had branded her with. “Just call me Astrid.”

She contemplated explaining everything to the enigmatic projection, including the fact that she was technically a representative of a faction on the Plates, but decided to keep it succinct. "Word on the street is, Lockdown takes care of his crew. Not only that, but your turf is also one of few that the Horde respects enough to stay out." Cocking her head to the side, she continued, "Disregarding all that, I'm interested in the type of person holding JAHANNAM’s reins."

Crossing her arms, she stared directly at the hologram, where its eyes would have been, were it a human. "Al-Qurtubi once said that wherever Jahannam goes, the uninitiated will hear its fury and roaring. When the eschaton comes, God will ask Jahannam if it is full, and it will answer, 'Are there yet more to consume?'"

​It was silent for a moment, even the ambient sounds of Northbridge seemed to fade away, then Astrid broke the silence by barking out a laugh, "Sounds like a riot of a good time to me."

---

That sure was a face that Dawn was making at him! Hah. Ahhh… Well. She was still agreeing to go with him! “Heh! Look, let’s just… ‘Take a long walk and talk, yeah?’ Sound like fun? I think it does!”
Chirped the chaos-gremlin. In his ear, and in the corner of his HUD, Sovereign let Felix know that the vocal command was received.

His eyes flicked upward, watching as the spinning symbol of Sovereign processed a series of automatic protocols… His location was sent to Sai and Sai alone. Everyone else? They’d see his location as still at Castle on The Clouds. And if they called, well, Felix had a specific message for them!
“Hey! Yeah, sorry! I’m in the middle of something important, and I’ll be heading back to HQ in a bit!”
Simple! It worked at least twice before! Before Yue went missing. But then again… Yue… Hm.
Wait! Focus! Goddamn. Medicine never worked the way they described it, huh? Anyways!

She asked about a plan… silly Dawn! Plans were things that happened to other people! And ruined by him, usually! Lord knows Mom and Dad probably— Whoop! Nope! Bad brain-train! Getting off that wild ride of self loathing…
God he could NOT focus! Adrenaline response, maybe? Wait! Dawn! Plan! Right!

Felix abruptly stood, smiling bright and gleeful at Dawn as she followed suit. “It’ll be fine! Besides, if you’re there, your boss’ll have a reason to understand why you might’ve played hooky today, yeah? Or at least why you’re suuuuuper late! Or… somethin’? I dunno, I was NEVER a great liar— Oh! That reminds me.”

He turned his head, looking down at his hard-light limbs with an expression often seen on a cat.
Pupils blown wide. Hair standing on end. Utter focus.
Affectionately referred to as ‘his dumbass mode’.
Which was rude! Thank you very much! He was only using optic controls to edit the parameters of his tinker-tech!
The emitters that took place for his shoulders and thighs hummed, brightening some before dimming almost immediately after.

His limbs, connected as they were, became disjointed things. His arms, from the bicep down, at least, disconnected from the emitters. His legs followed in the same manner. Yue had once said it reminded her of a Final Odyssey character— One whose forearms and shins floated away from the main body. Nevermind that that character also had a penchant for meteor hammers and kusarigama or… whatever. Beyond the point!
Felix’ limbs were floating now, somewhat. That was the point.

He continued to stare off into space, adjusting a few more parameters as one arm rotated a full one hundred and eighty degrees. On autopilot, his fingers closed around a surprisingly small stick of plastic, and yanked it from his back pocket.
Couldn’t wait for the cyberware to run its’ self-repair protocols. Had to move now.
He shifted in place, using his newly extremely mobile arms to slot the stick of plastic into a slot along his exposed spinal ‘ware ports.
Let that run its diagnostics, make sure Sai knows he had to use ANOTHER stick of tinker tech [4UT0R3P41R].

When Felix got his hands on that man… They were gonna talk about his naming conventions. Who the hell used L337speak?! It’s 2045 man, come ON.
Wait! Dawn’s staring— He had forgotten to reply! Focus!
He really hoped his medicine would kick in soon, god.

Felix snapped his eyes to Dawn, letting his focus settle back on her as he toned the manic smiling down. “Right! Sorry. Got distracted with— anyways. Uh. Do you wanna ride, or do you wanna just… ‘Walk’ there, hm? Oh! Also! How good are you at disguises? Or can your uh, light… brain… stuff! Can it affect the entire spectrum of ‘light’ or just visible light? Oh! Is it actually like, light? Or just radiation?”

Fuck. Rambling. Focus! Ugh.

Spirits it had been a while since Dean had talked this much about magic. Really he would be happy to give whatever insights Silver Fang might need, But this was getting exhausting. He was about to do his best to explain what he knew about [Swordsong] when Golem pointed out a newcomer. Dean gave a friendly wave when Raudd. "Well if it isn't my favorite un-killable Norseman." He waved a hand to Yue casually. "Just making sure our lost friend here gets her stuff back." He gave Raudd an appretiative look. "I might have also promised to bury anyone else up to their neck if they tried giving her more unsolicited advice and magical help. which, you know, you would be absolute shit at. No offense." Looking to make another comment, Dean's jaw clacked shut hearing about the other Templar he and Alex had the pleasure of meeting previously.

"Ah right . . . that." He began to lead the two down the route back to his and Alex's house. Walking backwards with his arms behind his head in a casual manner. "Y'all have the big meeting tonight to get the particulars squared away. Unfortunately there is no way in hell Halcyon doesn't know whats going on now. Got a dragon to placate on top of it all. Glad I don't have to be a part of it." He gave an unapologetic chuckle.

A few minutes passed before the three exited the alley about two blocks away from the house. Dean abruptly stopped and looked to a small structure to the right. It was a covered shrine of sorts. Very well taken care off with not a spec of dirt, wear, or vandalism to be seen. Dozens of candles, offerings and letters were neatly organized around a metal statue that looked like a man attempting to look like a generic space marine from a science fiction novel. His helmet was held under one arm and a large mace in the other. The man's face was repetitively plain but captured an air of confidence and grit the man must have had. At the statues feet read a plaque in bold letters.



The date inscribed bellow was 2043 . . . on a very significant day for more then one person present in the little group. Dean took a moment to stare at the statue, remembering the day all to vividly. Golem however gave him a gentle poke in the leg before he could get lost in that memory. He rolled his shoulders and looked back at the other two. "Sorry, just remembering things." He made a move to keep heading home when he caught Yue squinting at the memorial. Why did it feel like he was forgetting something important suddenly?

---

---

. . . What the fuck? What the actual fuck??

Alex really wanted to question his friend right now. None of this felt right or anywhere near normal even with powers involved. He felt like he had body wide goosebumps. That and a gut feeling that if he had been in actual direct contact with the two he might have had been a part of . . . whatever the hell had just transpired. He was thankful that Umbri came out cured from the experience, but it had left him with nothing but unease for Jemma. From wanting to hug her minutes ago to this, Alex was struggling to make sense of it all and his own feelings. Not that he had the luxury to process that all now.

In the meantime, Alex leveled a glowing look at the balding man and waved him off. If things were fine now there wasn't a need to contact Zolya anymore. He waited for the man to awkwardly leave before the fields of energy that had been around Umbri dissipated with a thought. It took a few hesitant moments before doing the same for Jemma. Shit that was probably going to be noticed. a pang of guilt coiled in his chest. "We're all good here."

Noting Umbri's growing hunger. Alex pulled a bag of dried fruit, granola, and his water thermos seemingly out of nowhere and set them in front of her before going to retrieve the sandwich. His nerves still somewhat on edge screaming that he had to be ready in case something went wrong. All these emotional highs and lows were getting exhausting. Alex wasn't aware of the red, blue and green flickering that sparked off of him as he left the room.

Trying not to rush in a way that would make his footsteps loud, Alex returned to deliver Umbri the rest of her food before resting in a hardlight chair that formed beneath him once more. He took up as relaxed a posture as he could. Thankful that his helmet kept his gaze obscured as it flicked between Jemma and Umbri every few seconds. "Sooo . . . can't say i understand any of what just happened, but everything's all good now yeah?" There was an internal wince as a shred of worry made his voice a little less sure then he wanted it.

Shieldtown. Down the road from the Black Iron Workshop, a collection of mechanics and engineers gathered around an alfresco table, beneath the skull of a mutant stag and a swaying ironclad sign titled, 'Wendy's Coffee and Rolls'. 

Margot took a whiff of her mocha, thick with an opaque brown colour, a drizzle of caramel tracing the valleys of whipped cream at its peak. She smiled, carving dimples beneath her cheeks. She looked to her coworkers, who were already cutting into their stacks of pancakes and waffles. "Can you believe it? After all these years, Dove's finally home!"

"And just as cuckoo as I remembered her," an engineer replied. "Or… Maybe more, actually."

A shadow raised its gaze, from two tables behind Margot, clad in a hooded mantle which had grown ragged through wear and tear. Beneath it was a man, shirtless, cut with a lean figure and the unmistakable seams of cybernetics. One of Margot's coworkers looked back at him, with a face scrunched up in annoyance. "Hey buddy, do you mind-"

"What did you say?" A reedy voice, underlined with the synthetic hiss of chrome. A voice that drew all their gazes. They couldn't see his face beneath the shadow of the hood, only three orbs that glowed with hellish red light. 

"She's back?"

---

Umbri sat at the end of Temujin's table, munching a granola bar and swinging her feet to the beats of a tinny radio much to the Doctor’s irritation. Her clear heels were tucked up beneath the table. She flexed and pointed her feet easily, under a slender ankle with no sign of swelling or bruising. Even her orange nail polish looked brand new. Despite the ink crusted into the cracks of her lips and still leaking from her tear ducts, she was glowing.

"Stop that," the Doctor batted her wiggling toes still and held on to her ankle, brow furrowing as he dug his fingers in. "Do you feel any discomfort here? Here?" He asked questions, Umbri shook her head, and he prodded around the tissue to feel something, anything that was comprehensible in his reality. Eventually he released her foot and stood with his cast supplies. "It's… fully healed. A break like that should take ten weeks, even longer with the stress and weight you put it under, but…"

Umbri crunched up the granola bar packet with a shrug, her feet swinging again.

Temujin stared at her feet, zooming onto the ankles and pointed toes, registering the Doctor's comments as he spoke. It was like… like magic. Or perhaps just really advanced biochemistry. He turned his gaze up towards Umbri. "It's like last night never happened," he remarked, the sloped brows of his mask denoting much confusion in the moment. He glanced at Jemma from the corner of his vision. "What the hell are you?"

"Hrrph!" Koba stood upright, gestured towards Jemma, and tapped his fist onto his chest. ("A friend. Like I always knew in my heart.") He tapped again for emphasis. Umbri didn't understand what he signed, but she nodded.

Graham wiped the sweat from his brow, his still wide eyes unable to entirely blink away the cacophony of ink and slime and the faces. The faces! "Koba, you are taking this FAR too well…" Still, when he looked back at Jemma, his eyes softened, a cautious kind of optimism peering through his sniffle. "...But… the important thing is, you're back, and you helped the girl out, just like the Jemma I knew would."

Temujin drew a long, rasped, mechanical sigh. "Riiiight. Maybe it's just softening us for a meal. For all its repulsive qualities, it doesn't strike me as a carrion eater." He turned his glare towards the blacksmith. "You better watch out, Graham, you're a real juicy target for a hungry aberration." 

Graham just stared at him in silent contempt. Umbri peacefully took a sip of water, her fingers curled around a wrench beside her, and >THUNK< it found its way over Temujin's head.

"...Hey!" The cyber ninja whined, with a tone ignorant of his own tactlessness. 

Umbri perked up as Aegis returned, her mouth stuffed with dried fruit as she lifted her hands to receive sandwich. She chomped down into it without bothering to swallow her other mouthful. When he spoke, she washed it down with water to talk back. Her kicking legs slowed to a dangle.

"Yeah. All good," she repeated back. She had the air of somebody who had just had years worth of therapy condensed down into three minutes. Which in a way, she just had. "So what do I owe you?" In a blink she'd turned almost professional. She turned her head to Jemma, her relaxed expression hardening as she prepared herself for the answer. No such thing as a free… anything in the Undercity. "The both of you, for the cure," a nod back to Aegis, "And protecting me. Is it clat? Or is there another form of payment popular in Shieldtown?"

"Al-Qurtubi once said that wherever Jahannam goes, the uninitiated will hear its fury and roaring. When the eschaton comes, God will ask Jahannam if it is full, and it will answer, 'Are there yet more to consume?'"

Megahertz chuckled. She lifted her unseen chin as a thrill surged down her spine. "You know your Tafsirs. Lockdown would be pleased."

The hologram did not share in Astrid's laugh, yet despite the faceless darkness in her hood, the straightness of her posture and unflinching gaze showed the newcomer much attention… and intrigue.

Megahertz started to circle around Astrid once more. "The Black King of JAHANNAM does not open his doors for any pawn." She ceased right behind Astrid and looked over her shoulder. "Your might is irrefutable, but our ranks are already overflowing with brute troglodytes and madcap triggermen."

Glitches and static cut into the hologram, and in a blink, Megahertz reappeared in front of Astrid, close enough to draw attention to the former's small frame compared to the latter. Her next words came low, but Astrid heard it in the recesses of her mind. "I'm more interested in your cunning."

Megahertz stepped back and turned her attention towards the Cazadors, their numerous orbs and eyes reflecting the two women. "Have you heard? A terror attack has sent Sector 7 spiralling into chaos and discord. All that power, all that money and security… It meant nothing as tragedy struck. Right in the heart of Ares territory." The stoicity in Megahertz's voice wavered into a brief delight as she spoke. "You've seen what came after. In their fear and paranoia, the Surfacers cast the first stone down on our abyss."

Megahertz clasped her hands, hiding them beneath her sleeves. The red-eyed Cazadore walked up beside her. "The Templars, Ares, JAHANNAM… it's a race against time to find the one responsible behind this plot." She returned her gaze back to Astrid. "Find this mastermind, bring them to us, and you will prove yourself more than worthy for an audience with the King in Black."

The Templar before her remained silent for a long while, staring right through Zolya rather than looking at her. Regardless the Templar seemed to be thinking, probably. Perhaps trying to figure out if she was actually going help her, maybe trying to mull over the happenings of the past day, or trying to figure out something else about her. The only thing that broke the momentary silence was the anxious breathing of Rat coming from behind Zolya's back.

Then finally the swords vanished almost as if the sudden loud exhalation of their master scattered their form alongside the tension. She could see the silver dust returned to the Templar and seemingly melded into her skin... Seemed whatever this power was, it was more than met the eye. And now with the swords gone the wolves in the back as well relaxed more and slowly began wandering their ways back to wherever it was they desired to be.

"I'm pretty sure she'll stay put for a while, and like I said even if she moves I have eyes on her." She said with a smile before turning her attention to Rat. "I can take it from here, you probably have devileries to get back to, don't you?" Honestly she had no idea how fried Rat's brain was at this point, but the fact that he hadn't scurried off yet to get back to his deliveries wasn't exactly a good sign.

"At any rate we'll be going around the outskirts of my little town here, it has become quite hard to traverse due to a little mishap. Oh and, walking the entire stretch to Shieldtown would take far too long for my taste, I can lend you a stag if you'd like, or do you have any other mode of transportation?" She asked the Templar before mounting the stag that had brought her here.