Alien Angel
New Athens, Castleburg
Possible interaction: Wireframe @Silver Carrot
_______________

Alien Angel let out a sigh at the Hero then said, "I'd like to but it'll look bad. I'm sure you figured out that I ain't a "official" hero. At the same time, I ain't leaving you alone right now...had enough of all this loco surprise attacks. If you need that flight, ask Blast or Ardent back on the cowboy float when we get there. Either are probably faster than me."

She then floated near her to pick her up then said, "...still, makes me look like a kidnapper right now..."

5th Avenue, New Athens, Castleburg

---

Through the blood splattered on Holliday, Ardent felt the cowboy pre-aim his shot at the float. He knew he was coming, but since Ardent also knew the angle and direction of the prepared counterattack, he still had a shot at landing a hit without having to take one in return. He burst through the float a bit higher than the Doc had guessed, forcing him to adjust his aim at the last moment. Much like the opening move of the fight, it would come down to a contest of speed and endurance. A gamble, without knowing what kind of bullet was coming next. Ardent locked eyes with Holliday as he prepared to kick him.

Then, he saw movement over the villain's shoulder. He smirked. He didn't need to do anything.

Instead of spinning into a kick, Ardent aborted his assault and twisted his body and hurled himself downwards, letting the enemy's final shots whistle over his head. He landed in a crouch, only inches from the hole he had broken in the float. It would've been a terribly vulnerable position, if Doc Holliday hadn't just been shoulder-slammed into next week by a certain super-fast hero.

Amid the small cloud of debris, Ardent rose to his feet. This was immediately followed by a resounding SLAM as the parade float, which he had tipped nearly vertical, fell back the way it had come and landed right-side-up once again, albeit no longer in drivable condition.

"Thought maybe you were catching a nap over there." Ardent stopped flying, putting his weight on the ground. He stepped away from the float, picking up Holliday's first gun from the road. "But you actually did something. Solid."

He flicked out the cylinder of the revolver and removed the remaining plasma bullets. As he did, flecks of blood continued to hover around him and drift towards the wound on his arm, which was being squeezed shut into a thin line by his power.

Blast had Holliday pretty firmly under control. It sounded like Wiseman and the kid heroes had turned the tables on Lady Blade's ambush. That only left the drones to take care of, but as Ardent prepared to fly and looked down the street, he saw them all dropping like flies. Wireframe, who had looked like she might have been struggling to hold off the army of robots, was being carried in the float's direction by someone very pink. The brightly-coloured leftover immediately rang a bell in Ardent's head, and he looked sharply back towards the man in civilian clothes by the bench.

"Wait, it's you..!" Ardent's eyebrows went up. The name took him a second. "Alpha?"

The glowing had looked familiar. Ardent vaguely remembered running into this strange pair not far outside of Boston during his vigilante days, although he recalled this guy having some type of super-strength, not healing powers. He definitely hadn't been expecting to see the two of them again after switching careers. "Why are you..? No, nevermind. It's good to have you here." He cut himself off, not wanting to ask anything that would put the duo in an uncomfortable position with HERO.

He only hoped that Alpha was just trying to blend in, and hadn't actually become a Blast fan.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ardent could see frightened civilians emerging from behind cover and peeking out the windows of the buildings overhead. Some held phones, and were very obviously taking videos. Good. A Blast-Ardent teamup with a tipping parade float was going to make some waves online, no doubt.

"There's still a lotta shit to do. We gotta make sure the trainees at Hero One are safe, and I wanna know where that fucker who made the robots is hiding out." Ardent looked to the other heroes there, then at Alpha in particular. He held up his arm, which had been badly grazed by a bullet of superheated plasma. In his sleeveless costume, the damage was pretty evident. "But can you use your power on me, first? This hurts like hell."

There was nothing in his body language that suggested he was hurt or hampered by the minor injury, but something in the back of his voice suggested he was definitely feeling it, now that the adrenaline was settling down.

---

Joseph watched on, his smile fading slowly as he watched everything devolve into chaos almost immediately after his speech ended. At first, he thought that things might go well, with Feng backing him up. However, that hope quickly disappeared as Fallout stated how pointless he thought trying to negotiate with them was, only to promptly shut up the second Luna showed up, also supporting his argument that the pair of villains should give up in her own unique, terrifying way. Before he could get his hopes up again though, Rupa seemed to decide it was taking too long, rushing forwards to punch Albino with a metal encased fist, likely attempting to free Eva from his grip. And from there, any hope there might have been to settle it peacefully vanished, instead replaced by a fight that went about as long as he'd told them it would.

Although Rupa's strike didn't make proper contact with Albino, the brief struggle as he attempted to dodge ended up with the knife he'd been holding to Eva's throat going into her shoulder instead. While that was obviously pretty bad, it did give her the opening to spin around and paralyse the pale man, dropping him in moments. At the same time, Megumi had launched herself on to Jellyfish's head, absorbing the electricity from his body and leaving him collapsed beside his partner.

For just a fraction of a second, Joseph couldn't quite manage to keep his face under control, looking down at the two unconscious villains with an expression of genuine pain.

And then it was back to normal, the annoying, lazy grin from before back on his face once again.

"Well, guess that goes to show what happens whenever I actually put in the effort and try!" He laughed. "Lesson learned, never doin' it again."

He sighed. From how Albino had reacted, it didn't sound like he'd actually had any intention of going along with it either, but still... he'd really hoped that they would...

Looking around the group, he spotted the first priority, and walked over to Eva, digging a smallish rectangular piece of paper out of his pocket, activating the runic arrays covering it and handed it to her.

"Here, put this over your shoulder." He said. "Won't fully heal you, but it'll at least stop it from opening up more or getting infected and stuff til you can reach a proper doctor."

"And as for you." He said, turning to Rupa, before pulling out another small piece of paper. Unlike the other one though, rather than runes, this piece simply had a phone number on it. "Yeah, not sure if Emily bein' knocked out means the scavenger hunt is cancelled or not, so I figure better safe than sorry, you know?"

Finally, he also looked over to Feng, Luna and Megumi, giving them all a thumbs up as well.

"And yeah, thanks for backing me up there guys!" He said with a grin. "I mean, yeah, I was absolutely just making it up as I went along so I wouldn't have to fight, and I'm not sure Albino was planning on listening in the first place, but still, the help definitely helped, I think."

Alpha and Alien Angel
September 15th, 2029 (12:00pm afternoon)
One day after "H.E.R.O. Day" incidents
East Side, Castleburg
Possible Interactions: ??? (Open if any wish to)
_______________

The vigilante duo were back on the East Side. Actually, both were on the same rooftop Angelia had been using when tracking the early activities of yesterday's incident. Despite the possibility of running into possible registered hero's like Backup, they needed a break from their own hiding spot.

Plus, as they both sat on the roof in a corner next to the roof door, they were actually eating a hotdog and drinking soda.

"...mmm...I see now why she came here...these are delish", Angelia merely muttered.

Alpha kept to himself for now but he did agree. Definitely one of the better foods they've had over the years and the cities they have been to.

After a bite, Angelia did speak up to Alpha.

"...ok. Should fill you in on what I found out so far...need to gather our thoughts here."

"Yes ma'am. For starters...your thoughts about yesterday..."

"...oy...it's obvious what that attack was about...a distraction with a distraction...two places get hit...one seemingly trying to cover for the other...then what happened at TAURUS Advanced Developments Laboratory..."

Both went silent on that. There were casualties there or so reports say. It's still a pending investigation since it isn't clear for the moment what was stolen if anything.

"...anything new on that front?"

Angelia shook her head and just took another bite out of her hotdog. Alpha did the same.

"...used to think this city was the safest to be in despite Hero One's track record on property damage...not after yesterday..."

"It is safe thanks to them. People just have high expectations these days when it comes to 'zero to minimum' collateral damage."

"...ugh...gente around here don't realize how good they have it", she merely responded to Alpha's comment.

"...could be worse Angelia. I.C.O.S.A. could follow through after what I saw on social media through your feed and just run the city themselves", Alpha then said, actually speaking in a normal tone rather than monotone.

Hearing that tone of voice, Angelia did smile then said, "Nope...worse would be they appoint "The Junkers" as the new city protectors but diablo not even the I.C.O.S.A. are THAT loco."

"...true...but I'd rather not jinx it. They know how The Junkers operate but I've seen enough from the old job on how things work sometimes...politics is politics...people hold grudges through them too...maybe they would do it just because that's how much the organization itself hates Hugo Powers himself..."

"...and that's how other people suffer as a result..."

Both stood silent on that.

"...but I do know one thing. The Fiendish Five were set up to fail."

"And out of the five, Professor Jon Gholem saw it soon enough that he cut bait and bailed. Despite that, one critical question remains."

"Yeah...who hired them to begin with?"

collab between @shylarah, @Silver Carrot, @Blizz, @Rabidporcupine, @Scarifar, @Zoey Boey
Sept. 14th, 2029

With the threat of the Fiendish Five dealt with, and Amuné patched up, Jareth contacted Alisa. He wanted to know how the orientation for new heroes had gone, outside of the attack. When he heard that the heroes there were planning to get pizza, he grinned.

“Alisa, please let the folks at orientation know that I’ll be bringing the pizza in from New Athens and set up in the cafeteria. ETA what, an hour? an hour and a half? Something like that. It’ll save them the cost of delivery and tip if I pick it up from the store directly.”

With that settled, he and Amuné made their way back to Jareth’s car and headed to the nearest pizza joint. Even with the holiday, not everyone had the day off work. Amuné had ordered ahead -- three large cheeses, two large pepperoni, and one large sausage, for a total of six pizzas. They were ready by the time the two heroes arrived, so it was just a matter of grabbing them and heading back to Hero One.

It took longer than usual to drive across town, but they arrived at Hero One within the promised hour and a half. To their surprise, however, one of the new heroes was absolutely huge. There was no way she could get inside the cafeteria to join the party.

“Alright, change of plans. We’re eating outside.” Amuné shifted the weight of the three pizzas she carried and nodded toward the large front lawn. “That’ll do for a location. C’mon.”

The pair set the pizza boxes in a pile on the grass, with Amuné guarding them while Jareth went to fetch a folding table.

Eventually, after everything had calmed down a bit, Joseph returned to the beach, not really sure what to do at that point. He didn’t really want to leave yet, feeling like he’d rather stick around until he was sure everything was sorted, both with the pair of villains and with Eva’s shoulder. The injury might’ve been small, but he knew as well as anyone how badly small injuries could grow out of control if you weren’t careful, and he wasn’t super into the idea of going back to the shed he lived in just to spend the rest of the day worrying about the ‘what ifs’ of his teammate’s health.

However, it was as he was sort of doing that very thing that he smelled something, and looked back over to the grass to see a young woman standing around some very familiar flat boxes, a similarly young man running towards the building.

"Oh right, forgot about the pizza stuff for a bit there..." he said, sitting on the grass beside the pizzas and their current guardian. "Guessing you’re another new recruit who was part of the parade crew, huh? Name’s Joseph, nice to meetcha!"

Amuné took in the man’s appearance. He wore a lot of layers, even though it wasn’t all that cold, and his hair was a mess. Clean-shaven, though, and he didn’t smell at all. Probably not homeless, despite the vibe he gives off, she decided. “Today was an unexpected first day on the job,” she replied. “I’m Amuné, hero name Oracle.”

Ting Feng had finished a lap around the island when she saw new people arrive. The ten meter hero carefully made her way over and knelt down like she usually did when communicating with people. “Hello, everyone. Did you hear about the attack? Awfully strange. We didn’t get to finish our easter egg hunt.” She glanced around.

“I think I dropped one around here...anyway. My name is Ting Feng, also known as Crane.”

Amuné looked up at the tall hero, and gave her a wave. “I’m Amuné -- or Oracle, if I’m wearing my mask. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I did indeed hear about the trouble here, and it wasn’t the only one. Villains turned up at the parade, too -- it was a coordinated attack, with the primary target being Hero One.”

Ting Feng frowned. “How awful. All they did here was attack the innocent Assistant Director. They did not seem inclined to listen to reason, though, some heroes here were certainly more aggressive than others. Regardless! It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” She waved again. Not one for handshakes.

”Are you having food?”

“We are! We, uh, didn’t know more than a headcount, though, so we might have to get more if you want more than a whole pizza to yourself. Would you like cheese or pepperoni?” Amuné figured a whole pizza would be roughly equivalent to a single slice for Tina. “They’re already cut, so be careful when you pick it up or it’ll come apart.”

Ting Feng put her finger to her lips, thoughtfully. ”...That is okay! Thank you for offering. I don’t want to eat a whole pizza.”

Madison had driven her motorbike from the East Side H.E.R.O garage to Hero One only to find everything wrapped up by the time she got there. Throughout all of this, she’d still been dressed in her civilian clothes. She was even still wearing her entry lanyard for the convention hall around her neck. Having just returned from inside the building to get caught up on the situation with Alisa as well as tell her own story, she returned outside to see that Amuné and Jareth had brought pizza. Her face finally lit up and she approached again, waving.

Jareth was just returning with the folding table when Madison exited the building, so he walked with her back to the small gathering where Amuné waited. It took them only a minute to unfold the table and set the pizzas on it. “So Madison, how was the fight against Doc Holiday and the robots?” he asked.

Madison chuckled and sheepishly rubbed the back of her head, realizing that her story would not be so impressive. ”Oh, I didn’t get to fight Doc Holiday. I was fighting the robots at the convention center until they shut down by themselves. Then I came straight here.”

While the heroes chatted away, the grass beneath their feet began to stir quietly, just subtly enough that they might not notice…

Amuné blinked, pausing mid-motion. A vision of blank walls and people in white coats filled her sight. She tried to shake it off, but something had triggered it. It wasn’t the white walls and set of researchers she was familiar with, either... “Hello?” she asked, looking around, though not down. “Is someone there? Someone new?”

”You could say that.” An awful voice spoke through the soil, like every molecule of it had grown vocal chords.

Fungal matter slithered out of the dirt and rocks like it was liquid, swirling and contorting into the shape of Mire. ”The annoying human with the glasses told me to come here.”

Amuné was somewhat taken aback when the ground itself turned into a...person? A mushroom of some kind? ...No, definitely a person. But probably not a human, given how they spoke. If not human, though...what are they? “I’m Amuné,” she said, offering a hand for Mire to shake.

Mire didn’t understand human social… things. So they didn’t take the hand. ”Don’t touch me.”

She stopped, and dropped her hand. “They didn’t treat you kindly, did they?” she said softly, mostly to herself. A self-conscious smile followed. “Sorry. I got a glimpse of...well, what I assume is something from your past.” Amuné shivered, gaze going distant for a moment.

”No, they didn’t. So don’t ask.” Mire clearly wasn’t a good individual to talk to for interesting conversation. ”Why am I here?”

“I don’t know why you’re here. I wish I had more insight, but...” Amuné sighed, and shrugged. “At least for now, though, would you like a slice of pizza? And I don’t think I caught your name, either.”

”Humans call me Mire.”

“What do you call yourself?”

”I don’t call myself anything. I just am,” they said, impatiently. ”Do I look like something that cares about names?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Amuné said mildly. “I honestly have no idea what you are, aside from not human -- and that only because you indicated as much. Heroes come in all kinds.”

”That, Amuné, is a Leftover.”

Austin walked up to the gathering outside of his usual hero getup. Unlike most heroes, he actually tried to maintain a somewhat unknown identity, keeping his life as Wiseman separate. He hadn’t left HERO One since the parade ended, and simply left his gear in the building for this reason… How he did it with that huge burn scar and the eyepatch was a mystery, but he never got cameras shoved in his face when he was off the job, so it worked.

”You are here, Mire, because ICOSA believes you are simply too interesting to set free again.”

”You look hideous,” they said, staring at the burnt half of Austin’s face.

”And you look flammable. Now that we have something in common, mind your manners around your new coworkers.”

“A Leftover?” Amuné echoed in surprise. “Wait, ‘too interesting to set free’? You mean they’re here like some sort of experiment?!” Now she was angry and upset. “Oh, Mire, no wonder you don’t like us -- that’s terrible!”

"See Mire?" Joseph chimed in, having found it far more interesting to simply sit back and watch the conversation unfold around him. "Can’t go around treating all us humans like we’re big ol’ jerks who’ll never understand. Some of us are actually pretty nice!"

He grinned, pointing to Wiseman with a half-eaten slice of pizza.

"’Course, Wiseman’s an exception, because bein’ a big ol’ Grumpelstiltskin is sort of his deal, ain’t that right Oz?"

”I am the most intelligent person here, and I have no idea what that means, Joseph.”

"Damn, and there I was thinking wordplay’d be a strong suit of yours…" Joseph chuckled back.

Megumi was currently nearby, keeping a slice of pizza nearby while she sat near the table. She had her G.E.M. figure on the corner, having opened certain panels on it to inspect it for faults. To her, it was important to maintain it at as close to 100% operational efficiency. As expected, she found few, if any faults, in her work and decided to close up the panels. For now, she would try to relax. She reached over and grabbed her pizza, then took a bite. A faint smile appeared on her face as she chewed; it was better than she had expected.

The girl with the robot got Jareth’s attention. At least, he was pretty sure it was a robot of some kind, and not just a toy. “Hello there. I’m Jareth. I hope you don’t mind my asking, but...are you a tech-based hero?” He gestured to the robot she’d just closed up. “I’m something of a tinkerer myself, so I’d love to see your work.”

As Megumi took another bite of her pizza, a voice called out to her. She looked up to see a boy with freckles and curly hair asking about her G.E.M. figure. It was rather rare to find someone who took an interest in tech, even in Castleburg. At least, someone with an interest in the intricacies of it. “Mmm,” Megumi nodded in affirmation. She gestured towards it with one hand, letting him take a look at it.

Jareth eagerly inspected the small figure, gently opening panels to look inside. “Let’s see...various attachments in the arms...ooh, and are those lasers? Sweet! I’m not familiar with this type of charging connector but it looks like it’s multipurpose? That’s brilliant. Solves the problem of having to find the right kind of jack if you can just plug into anything.” After a couple minutes of looking, Jareth closed up the panels again and held it back out to the girl, who had not given him her name. “You’ve put a lot of stuff in here. It’s elegant work, miss...?”

“Megumi,” she introduced herself, taking her figure back and carrying it with both hands. She was taking more of a liking to him already. It wasn’t often she could discuss tech topics with someone else. “And your name is…?” Megumi asked, tilting her head a bit. There was a chance she could pick his brain a bit, and she was taking the opportunity.

“Jareth,” he replied. “I have an interest in robotics and programming, and it’s always cool to see what other people make.” He grinned. “Building stuff for fun is a great hobby. It’s even better when it’s useful, but not everything I want to make is. Like a dart board that adjusts for the trajectory of your throw, so you get a bullseye every time.”

“I remember seeing that video,” Megumi said, nodding in appreciation. The man knew how to make his videos entertaining to watch, at least. “Though the idea itself is impractical, its ability to inspire others is praiseworthy.”

“Not everything has to be practical. Sometimes it’s fun just to challenge yourself to see if you can. Plus I got a laugh out of my best friend, so it was totally worth it.”

Megumi nodded in agreement. Sometimes, one could invent things simply for the fun of it, and there was nothing wrong with that. Looking at Jareth quizzically, Megumi asked, “What about you? What kind of powers do you have?”

“Oh, me?” Jareth smiled sheepishly. “I’m actually a terrakinetic. Not at all related to my interests, but what can you do?”

Ting Feng was sitting quietly nearby, a small smile on her face as she listened to everyone talk. This was social interaction!

---

---

HERO Three

Amuné was nervous. Hero Three was an unexpectedly nice place, and she wasn't enjoying any of it. ICOSA wanted to evaluate her, and...she was honestly scared. So she sat and waited and did her best not to show it. She would much rather be out with Jareth, hunting Terrazards and potentially dealing with gang members.

She'd read up as best she could on the three observers since they'd come to town two days ago. Q. Spencer Randolph, better known as Magician was surprisingly popular for someone that seemed like...well, a total ass, for lack of better words. Marisol Pérez, or Chimera, was newer to ICOSA, and originally from Cuba. Not very useful info, but all Amuné could find. And Dr. Sabine Reininger was a psychologist with some renown. Not enough. Not enough at all for Amuné to feel at all prepared for this interview.

She tensed as a door opened and two of the three ICOSA members stepped out. No Marisol Pérez. Interesting, and a little concerning. Where was she? Amuné supposed it didn't matter right now. By the time Mr. Randolph asked for volunteers, she had steeled herself enough that she was able to rise smoothly to her feet. Hopefully she looked more confident than she felt.

"I'll go first, if you guys don't mind." Amuné glanced at the other Hero members in the room. Better to get this over with than sit dreading it for what probably would be hours.

_{Date & Time: October 10, 2029, 7:19 PM
Current Location: Peterson Estates, Passenger Island, Castleburg
Current Teammates: Blast @Hitman, Wireframe @Silver Carrot, Bastion @Infinite Cosmos, Gematria @Scarifar, Alchemist @Duoya}

---

---

"This is Dahlia. I'm five minutes away from location. Over." Evangeline said over their team comms.

It had been a month since the attack of the Fiendish Five on the festivities on Castleburg and their headquarters at Hero One. While they were successful in defeating the villain group, Professor Gholem managed to escape. Eva believed the other heroes were tasked to locate the whereabouts of the villain while the rest were given the chance to rest, regroup, and go on to do their own thing for the time being. For Eva, she of course would've chosen to do more missions but as per doctor's orders, she was required to fulfill a different mission: get some much needed rest.

She spent a good amount of time at the hospital, having her wound being treated while observing it for other kinds of infection just in case. She then spent the remainder of the month in at base, mostly staying in her room. Thankfully, the blade only managed to pierce her flesh and not the bone. She had taken the prescribed amount of anti-pain medications, but she was told a little pain here and there was normal. Sometimes it still hurt to raise her arm even. She just regretted that she wasn't able to join the pizza party her other peers organized, and worried about Rupa's well-being. It was her first time formally meeting her at the orientation, but Eva could get a slight idea about her personality. Eva hated the idea of Rupa blaming herself for what happened, she didn't even have the chance to meet with her again through the whole month. When she learned they were both in this covert mission together, Eva hoped this will be their chance to properly talk again since the incident.

Eva took in a deep breath and exhaled, psyching herself up. This was not the proper time to be nervous and worry about people. Like the others, Eva was chosen specifically due to the nature of this mission. They were going to a party hosted by a filthy rich man named Samuel Peterson who supposedly had ties to various criminal organizations. It was mostly an intelligence gathering type of mission: collect any vital piece of information that could connect Peterson to the Fiendish Five and any other villain group if there are and that could also prove he had a hand in the disappearance of several of his staff. Also, there's the other objective of not letting ICOSA find out about this.

Throughout her time in her own family's villain group the Death Boquet, most if not all their targets were men who garnered vast amount of riches and fortune through unethical methods. They wouldn't share that kind of information with anyone of course, but one would be surprised how open and relaxed these men would be after just a couple of drinks with the company of a beautiful woman who feigned interest in their pathetic miserable lives. The money they managed to steal from those men were pocket change compared to what they make in a year and her family cared less about what they did to reap all those ill-gotten riches. Her mom and sisters would even dress themselves up in various wigs, make-ups, and dresses, each look vastly different than the last to avoid getting identified. They even changed the way they acted as well, analyzing what type of woman their target wants and creating a persona with an accent and mannerisms to fit that ideal type for them. Sometimes, Eva felt guilty especially when their target was just plain lonely and genuinely looked for company. Still, Eva didn't think that what she did for a life of crime would later be used to help save the day too.

She opened her purse to check out her kit she got for the mission: the invitation printed out by Alisa for the heroes participating in this mission, a poison lipstick, a few bits of make-up here and there, and a special transparent toxin in a small vial that will knock out a grown man unconscious for at least half an hour. She took out her compact mirror to see if her make-up's smudged and fixed her outfit to make sure she looked the part, not that there's anything to fix anyway. Eva had on a deep V-neck black dress with a thigh-high slit, a white faux fur coat to help hide the healing scar on her arm, and a pair of black stilettos. She even put on brown-colored contact lenses to hide her very obvious bright green eyes and put on a brown wavy-haired wig with a side part. With her current get-up, it was definitely a drastic change from her usual look. It's also to help hide her identity if there's a chance any of her current victims were at the party.

Once the car stopped in front of a massive mansion, Eva thanked the chauffeur and got out. She got in line just as the rest of Peterson's guests, all of which looked like they used their toilets were made of gold. When it was her turn, she gave her invitation to the doorman. "Thank you." She quietly said to him with a wink, her fingers brushing against his as she took her invitation back. That short physical contact allowed Eva to impart her toxin into the doorman's bloodstream. It's only dormant for now but when it came to it, she can activate the toxin for it to paralyze the doorman's muscles like she did to Albino.

She did the same to a few other people she could make physical contact with her hand and arm as she walked past them. The guests along with Eva were then guided towards the ballroom where it was every bit of opulent as she imagined it to be. Guests were wearing the finest tuxedos and dresses ever made, each piece of clothing probably worth more than a normal human being's life savings. The air was filled with music from the quartet along with the hollow conversations and fake laughter being exchanged between the guests.

"Team, this is Dahlia. I'm in the building. Just waiting for the others. Over."

---

"Dibs on the second one!" Joseph said from his position on one of the couches, slumping into it as far down as he physically could. "Gettin' a bit late, y'know? Wanna try to make it back home before I miss too much sleep..."

He shrugged, before looking to Spencer, a lazy smirk on his face.

"Unless, that is, you'd prefer to get this over with now. After all, I imagine there's a little more you'll wanna talk about with me than just my mundane issues, eh Randy?"

Of course, there was a pretty strong chance he was looking way too deeply into it, but in his defence, looking to deeply into things had been the only thing that kept him alive on more than a few occasions. This was even more important due to Spencer himself. Because as his hero name suggested, Magician was, in fact, a mage. Mages generally didn't get along with other mages outside their own direct bloodlines, and unless he'd missed something very important in his family history, that didn't apply here.

That being said, until recently, Joseph had also thought the general magus stereotypes didn't really apply to Magician, given what he'd been able to learn about the man. Upon actually seeing him in person, however, he could tell that the other mage was just as smug and self-important as any other he'd met. Maybe even worse, honestly. And if what they said about his accomplishments were true, then this was a magus who had been capable of fighting an entire nation on his own.

So, yeah, Joseph figured a healthy sense of paranoia was justified at this stage. But, thanks to his brilliant acting skills, he managed to keep any of those thoughts from showing in his expression or body language, instead schooling them into that same mask of irreverent laziness he'd so carefully honed over the last seven years.

_{7:23 PM.
October 10th, 2029.
Peterson Estates
Passenger Island, Castleburg
Status: Getting inside the building.
On a mission with: Blast @Hitman, Bastion @Infinite Cosmos, Dahlia @baraquiel, Gematria @Scarifar, Alchemist @Duoya}

---

It felt strange, falling back into a world she thought she'd left behind. All the habits and mannerisms that got her side-eyed, looked down upon and underestimated at the Academy were returning as if she'd never stopped being this person; The rich, popular girl from Beverly Hills. She was currently in a limozine soon to be approaching the entrance to the mansion. Madison was relaxed. Her father had invited her to a few parties like this when she was in her teens, back when he was still trying to dissuade her from H.E.R.O. 'I can see how unhappy it's making you,' he would say. He hadn't realised that it was his world that was making her unhappy. The side of her that works out to rock and makes a modest living as a Superhero who saves people. That was the life that she felt at home with.

Once the limo came to a stop, Madison gave the driver a tip and stepped out. She was wearing a form-hugging lilac cocktail dress, matching jewelry and a matching silk shawl that she hoped would hide the musculature of her shoulders, biceps and upper back. In her hands she was carrying a white clutch purse that matched her bracelet. On her feet she was wearing high-heeled sandals. Picking out her outfit had admittedly been the most fun part of the mission preparation.

She showed her invitation nonchalantly, with a modest, polite smile. All the women here were gorgeous, so Madison didn't stand out in that regard. As such, she was ushered in with nary a second glance. The others around here were beginning to filter into the ballroom. Madison instead walked over to a large mirror slightly down one of the corridors, where she pretended to be adjusting her earring as she pressed her earpiece and spoke softly.

"Team, this is Wireframe. I'm at the mansion, and will begin mixing. If anybody needs a door opening at any point, let me know."

With that, Madison entered the ballroom and began looking around for a good starting point. Who should she break the ice with first?

---

---

_{7:20 PM.
October 10th, 2029.
En Route to Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant
Brookside, Castleburg
On a mission with: Mire @Blizz, Crane @Zoey Boey, Blur Rabbit @DClassified, Ardent @manythings, Terraformer @shylarah, Freakshow @Crusader Lord}

---

Flora was travelling to the site inside the truck that was towing Crane. The paperwork was all done and she had now officially been reinstated into H.E.R.O. permanently. Such a move had been facilitied under the condition that she help I.C.O.S.A. with their current observations and make a formal report upon this mission's completion. It seemed to her that the higher ups were weary that they couldn't formally evaluate several of the heroes on this mission, and Flora being here was part of the series of compromises both parties had to make. At least after this mission, she would be free to resume her Hero career without any more meddling.

She knew that Mire was currently in the van in front of her. She wasn't sure if they'd been told ahead of time that they'd be working together, but she hoped somebody had informed them or things could possibly get awkward. Still, she hoped she'd get a chance to apologize. R&D's treatment of Mire was the straw that broke the camel's back in convincing Flora to quit and come back to Castleburg. She hadn't become a scientist just to end up no different to the criminals who'd stolen away her own childhood.

Flora was nervous. She hadn't been in the field for seven years,and hadn't done any training to sharpen her skills. Muscle memory was going to be doing a lot of the heavy lifting today. She slipped on her goggled as they approached the Recycling Plant, and zoomed in on the hole. It was swarming with Terrazards. Not the best welcoming committe but it could be a lot worse. At least Flora's lab work had given her a lot of practice surviving and restraining an angry Terrazard. The truck came to a stop, and Flora got out, walking over to Crane as she lifted her goggles again.

"Was the journey okay for you?" The woman asked with a soft voice that showed no signs of either judgement or pity. In fact, it didn't betray much emotion at all. It was as if the woman found having to travel on an exposed flatbed the strange, notable detail, not the girl's size in the first place.

Outside Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant, Brookside

---

David flew low through Brookside, following along with the HERO transport vehicles. He was once again outfitted in his costume, with the green jacket tied around his waist, and any minor damage to the fabric from his combat with Doc Holliday since mended. On that matter, the damage to his arm had also healed up nicely, mainly thanks to Alpha's power. He was ready for action.

When David was assigned to this mission instead of being sent for ICOSA evaluation, he had been thanking his lucky stars. No doubt the nosey bastards were interested in a psychological profile of him because of his background and probationary status, but apparently there were some even more concerning heroes on the local roster, and he was safe for now. It was also possible, David considered, that Powers had given him this mission in order to put off what would very likely be a disaster of an evaluation. In truth, David had no idea how he was going to sit down and chat with the ICOSA representatives without giving them a piece of his mind. He had gone legit precisely to avoid having these sorts of people breathing down his neck. Back then, it had been the Boston HERO team on his ass until he joined them. But as the saying went, there was always a bigger fish. A fucking annoying fish. A magical British one.

For sure, Ardent was much better off out here, on a simple errand. Flying beside the truck meant he could keep Crane company during the journey, keeping pace with her platform. Still, he wasn't sure the two of them would have much to talk about. Did he really have anything in common with someone who couldn't step inside any building smaller than an aircraft hangar?

If anything, they at least had a common problem in the oversight of the mission. Randolph's minion was apparently gonna be watching the whole mission, and the new addition to the team was apparently also from ICOSA. "Don't like this. I don't trust them." David spoke to Crane as they passed through town and under the imposing shadows of the Brookside prisons.

Although David was very happy not to be getting psychologically evaluated, he wasn't exactly in love with the mission he was on. As a vigilante, he had mainly gone after criminals and villains rather than Leftovers, and he didn't have much experience with exterminating them. He wasn't even sure he wanted to.

"...And on top of that, the whole mission feels like some sort of sick test. If taking out these things is actually important, the ICOSA crony should be fighting, too. She's going to be there, anyway. But no, she's just going to watch us."

As he travelled with Crane, Ardent's face and tone told a story of someone who was unhappily resigned to doing stupid, useless work.

Soon enough, they had arrived. Ardent saw Perez on the tower nearby, and followed her sightline to spot the bulk of the Terrazard group. He landed near the truck, boots touching down on dead grass. He eyed the large hole in the wall, then glanced at some of the broken windows. He wasn't really a big pre-planner, but the watchful eye of ICOSA made him slightly conscious of the need for strategy. If they made some dumb misplay with Perez watching, they'd probably never hear the end of it.

"Before we start." He glared at Lab Rat, who had emerged from Crane's truck. "I wanna know. Are you actually with us?"

He tilted his head up towards the tower.

"Or with her?"

Wiseman showed up at HERO Three fully armored, strapped to the teeth as usual in full hero gear. He didn’t live far from here, since he pretty much always stayed at Hero One when he wasn’t busy. This evaluation didn’t mean much to him in the grand scheme of things. He knew that Magician, true to his name and background, was an egotistical, chronic snark. Wiseman had dealt with egotistical people before, people who thought they ruled the world. ICOSA was among those people, but the constant smug tone of this inspector bounced off of Wiseman like water off a stone bridge. He simply didn’t feel intimidated by this. If anything, he didn’t seem to even pay attention to half of Magician’s rambling.

Sat on a couch in the lobby, Wiseman was immersed in work. Three separate holographic screens emitted from his Lexicon floated before him, and his fingers quietly flew across them as he did the best he could to support the two away teams from a distance. ”Yes, yes, I’ll see the doctor when I have a moment,” he said, dismissively. Though it was impossible for Wiseman to actually ignore anything happening in the room right now thanks to his powers, he was more worried about doing his job. Wiseman had done Powers a favor by being here today, filling a spot that wouldn’t slow him down. Other heroes couldn’t necessarily hack into two different locations at the same time from a distance, so it meant little whether Wiseman was actually present.

On one screen, he flew through lines of code on a keyboard, hacking into the building that Blast’s team was set to investigate. With a bit of teamwork from ALISA, his access to the Peterson estate left no trace in HERO’s databases. He worked his way into one camera of the building, which had a connection to a central server where security was managed. A simple, yet elegant bug was placed in there, allowing him remote access to every camera in the entire building.

Quickly, Wiseman wrote up a script on a second screen. His fingers were a blur across the holographic keyboard as line upon line quickly spooled out. He loaded the script into the Lexicon’s processor and typed out a message that only ALISA would be able to read. Transmit this script to their wristwatches, it will give them remote access to security.

Giving ALISA the reigns to relay the script served to also give her the same secretive, personal access to the cameras Blast, Gematria and the rest of their team would receive a secure, undetectable channel that would allow them to discreetly view the feed of the building’s cameras. It would connect their watches to the Peterson estate’s security network, with a screen over the bug preventing anyone from recognizing the access at all. In simpler terms, they’d be untraceable as long as they didn’t get caught by someone looking over their shoulder. With that finished, he closed the two screens out and kept working in silence.

A third screen displayed a map of the Fixeon plant’s electrical grid and camera network. A quick inventory showed it didn’t have much working, but Wiseman was able to spot a working camera outside and a set of cameras that had different model numbers and MAC hardware under the building.

And there was something the gun-toting hero did not appreciate. So he took care of that first. The junior inspector supervising the team would suddenly hear Wiseman’s voice coming through her ICOSA issued communication device. ”Remove your finger from the trigger of your weapon, inspector Perez. Or I will embarrass you in front of your superiors for pointing it at my teammates.” This was said aloud, in front of Rune, Oracle and the other unlucky heroes who were being evaluated. If Magician heard that, then he heard it.

His hands once again blazed across a keyboard as he patched into the team’s communication channel. ”Fixeon team, this is Wiseman. I have located a hoard of Terrazards not far from your location. They haven’t seen you yet, so you can ambush them.” The heroes at the plant would receive a top-down map of the location, as well as a snapshot of the camera that Perez wasn’t far from, indicating the exact location of the Leftovers.

”And our suspicions about unusual activists here are likely correct. There is a third party setup of cameras and portable spotlights beneath the plant. They are likely operating on a portable energy source, since the building does not have power. There is little more I can do to support you for now, but if your supervisor does not warn you of incoming danger from outside, I will try to myself. Wiseman out.”



A small part of Mire hated the term “Leftover.”

Humans had too many words for things. Every little expression they made, every little emotion or turn of disposition they developed had to be catalogued. The ones that thought there was no such thing as a cost too step were called “Machiavellian,” but the ones who were reasonable about it were “pragmatists.” The ones who looked after their own people were “altruistic,” but also “considerate” or “compassionate.” Depending on where they came to be, they were “American” or “Russian” or “Japanese” and then there were other words on top of that. Names, titles like “inspector.” None of these words meant little more than a damn way of remembering one face from the other as far as Mire was aware. Humans used so many names and some of them made them better than each other. “Director” was just a word, just a few guttural sounds in one language on this earth, but all these heroes seemed to be scared shitless of the one calling himself that and “Powers.”

Director Powers didn’t seem much different than all the others. Maybe a bit bigger, but Mire didn’t care about that sort of thing. But on top of it all, they had to slap labels on Mire. They didn’t care about even having the name “Mire,” let alone the name “Leftover.” To them, it just meant that whatever got the label was to be killed. Except that didn’t even matter when Mire was a leftover. They were still “alive” by human definition.

So when they crawled out of the metal vehicle along with Lab Rat (who they didn't recognize) and the other heroes, Mire didn’t feel concerned over what they were here for. Getting rid of Leftovers, but they wanted a Leftover to be a hero? ”Is that human on the tower coming down here or is it going to annoy us?” They asked, hearing Ardent mention the ICOSA “supervisor.” ”Are we supposed to care what they think? If that’s the case, why would they put me here? When they already don’t mean anything to me?”

Mire turned and look up at Perez off in the distance. That strange approximation of a humanoid skull glared right through her, emotionless but obviously unamused. ”They want me to get rid of the same thing that I am, but they want me to stay here… Fine. Where are they? They’re my problem, now. But if that human points that… ”Weapon” or whatever they’re called at me when I get rid of them, it goes next.”

Brookside, the familiar turf she'd run across back and forth back in the day. Er, over five years ago at the very least. Before....everything happened. That was as much as she'd preferred to term it to keep things simple on her side these days, but Powers personally had a finger on the breakdown of everything she knew otherwise. But when she'd gone back to the reports to get more info on the newcomers and so forth she'd found quite the resume before her....and likewise an enigma alongside that so very stunningly Bri'ish resume she was surprised the woman that came with him didn't speak Irish or Scottish or served him his midday tea every single day. Eh? Ok, perhaps it was a bad joke to think of on her end, but hell if it wasn't something if the guy didn't come off like he did and had confirmed actual MAGIC in his aresenal. But when getting the info on the coming mission, however, the crew for the mission, those coming along, and yet most notably the starting info they had to work with had certaianly drawn her attention.

"In addition to the Leftover surge, there are rumors that organized crime has been operating out of the area. Particularly, a small but resilient group of metahumans that have begun to call themselves the “Azure Skulls,” believed to be an attempted revival of the destroyed Blue Skulls, have been seen on the perimeters of the abandoned plants. There have also been loud machine sounds heard echoing from the depths of the facility at night. Again, it is presently unknown precisely what their motives are and if they are even associated with the plant."

Some people didn't know when to let go. Stubborn as all hell bunch of total of-.....never mind. Was it a bunch of newbies and metas inspired by the Bridge Incident from five years ago? Some slackers who'd avoided going to the bridge that no one had noticed due to the big news going on back then? Maybe some pocket of 'villain era' recruits they had tried to get together or such that HQ had kept under wraps before sacrificing the rest of them like cattle to the slaugher alongside everyone else? She sure as anything, even down to her bones, knew it wouldn't be anyone from HQ....she'd made personally sure of that years ago. Double-checked it, even, in the aftermath from the very top to bloodied and wall-painted bottom. Seen it in her nightmares, even, for by now a bit over five long years with at least four of those and a bit of putting more into working on herself than she'd ever done before alongside the rest of it.

The metahuman let an audible and loud click of notable dissatisfaction out of her mouth without batting an eye as the van pulled to a stop finally.

Leftovers, gang fights, it was all part of the Brookside life as far as she was concerned and had ever known. But some idiots with that ambitious of a goal and that much resilience setting up in the ruins of this place in particular? No, it wasn't a coincidence at all she figured. Nor was it a good sign they'd possibly found a means to live alongside some Leftovers or to use em' as cover or something. To hell with accusations of paranoia, she'd admit to it in a sense in this situation if asked outright. Do not underestimate the stupid crap that goes on in Brookside, and if anyone down in this building had been associated with the now-former leadership or been trying to work with em' on those 'big villain group' aspirations then it was more than doubly dangerous for all of them here to boot.

She wasn't as ridiculously smart as the kid they called "Wiseman", but she wasn't stupid either. Even caught up on her education and then some. Did her homework. Etc. Was a part of just learning how to survive in some capacity to her, so she'd built on that with new habits and such to try to make the best use of herself. Had to know your allies as much as your enemies and so forth. Not that surprises couldn't be there, etc, but even just a basic idea before going into a fight with another gang could spell better or worse for those involved. And she'd just been a dumb kid learning that.....and learning it in the worst ways possible.

While Lab Rat had ridden with Crane's truck, Ardent had taken to flying, and Mire just crawled out however it pleased, Luna took a brief second to get out behind them before anything else. And yet while the sight of the ruined-out building felt a bit too familiar for her liking, all the same she'd walk over to where Crane and a few of the others seemed to be congregating. Or, well, where others were congregating at Crane? Hmm. Maybe they could-

"Before we start." He glared at Lab Rat, who had emerged from Crane's truck. "I wanna know. Are you actually with us?"

He tilted his head up towards the tower.

"Or with her?"

”Is that human on the tower coming down here or is it going to annoy us?” They asked, hearing Ardent mention the ICOSA “supervisor.” ”Are we supposed to care what they think? If that’s the case, why would they put me here? When they already don’t mean anything to me?”

Mire turned and look up at Perez off in the distance. That strange approximation of a humanoid skull glared right through her, emotionless but obviously unamused. ”They want me to get rid of the same thing that I am, but they want me to stay here… Fine. Where are they? They’re my problem, now. But if that human points that… ”Weapon” or whatever they’re called at me when I get rid of them, it goes next.”

-....hell. She could work with the distrust of the ICOSA suits, but all the same it wasn't going to get their real job done any better to start this sort of crap already. Already! They were here to help, but Mire was here to b**** like usual about everything, Mr. Vigilante was already tossing looks and words a little here, and Crane was already being caught in the middle of this while the newcomer was semingly trying to be nice to her or something. All they needed was Blur, who probably knew enough of Brookside like she did according to her gut instincts, and the Terraformer kid right over here too and it'd be an unofficial group meeting.

Alright then, they couldn't sit and do this all day and all night or else they'd be inviting everything bad to happen to them. Plan and simple, at least in the former ganger's mind. The girl would augment her durability and strength incredibly already to solid combat levels on her part, however, and briefly even augment some supporting things to boot like her eyes and ears using her power. She would then take a look far out at the moving Leftovers for a moment to try to judge a bit of distance. Terrazards? Why was it always blasted Terrazards? But she'd try to look for any 'suspicious movement' or the like in that brief time window as well.

Afterward, Luna would then finally pull up her watch and send a loud and clear group message to those who were here on this mission. Those who she was standing near would get her speaking loudly there to boot. Not too loud as to call to the Zards, but enough to talk over the others and get their vital attention.

"Hey there, party people, I won't be mincin' words here or sugar-coatin' even though no one died an' made me king or queen here.

Let's please keep our eyes on the prizes here for the time being, and on keeping each others' backs more than anything. We're not here to fight each other, and we're not here to shoot off glares and spit out words at each other for the moment. End of the day, ICOSA or HERO, we all should be right here right now to stop these things and then investigate things before it all can threaten innocent lives...or worse.

So I suggest we all listen up a second too, because I'm goin' to be droppin' some facts and knowledge for the uninitiated here because these Terrazards aren't going to pull punches or anything like that here. Even Ms. Perez is being pulled in on this call, so all of us will be on the same basic page for this stuff even if ya' already know some of this."

She was going to call it as it was. If ICOSA wanted to keep an eye on them more than help people at the end of the day, then it would show. But for all intents and purposes they needed to keep their eyes on the prize and so forth. What they were going to face wasn't paltry kiddie play, and neither was what they had come to investigate to boot. Had to be focused, or it would all go southward in a heartbeat. She had seen it personally happen before years ago. All that was left of one guy she'd tried to get out of there once was his-....ahem. Yeah it wasn't pretty to be monster food, that was all she was going to acknowledge for now.

"Terrazards, or just known as 'Zards' around these parts, are lizard Leftovers that hunt in big packs, move quick, got razor-sharp claws, and their spit can paralyze ya' if you get bit. Hide is too tough for stuff like some pistol, but rifle'll punch into em' just fine. They are very clever, and they always like using their big numbers and ganging up on people an' otherwise gettin' you isolated or killed in smaller groups by pulling you away from the main group.

I'd say we're over two hundred yards downwind of the things for the moment it seems, thankfully, but they like hunting metas like us and if they get the scent of food should the wind direction change we won't have time ta' argue our asses off with each other later since we'll be dead if they get us badly enough or get us with our pants down.

So let's get to work here while we've got the time and chance to."

Luna's tone was blunt, to the point, and speaking as clearly as she could to boot. Yet at the same time, a certain seriousness and somberness was obvious enough in her speaking if one listened for more than just two seconds.

She'd seen people die to this type of Leftovers as well as weaker ones. She'd seen people die in metahuman fights. She'd seen meta people who though they were 'all that' get gunned down by just some mundane guys in a car who used their heads to win at the end of the day. She'd seen mundane people die to the most simple and forgettable ways of dying. She'd even seen her own body parts severed, eaten, or sent flying like a football at an NFL kickoff for pity's sake. There was no mincing words or sugar-coating it to those involved, cleaning up things like this and fighting were not pansy little things you could fully understand in school. Not to be mean to the Lighthouse school nessecarily, but the only experience she had was in Brookside and on these streets and around these things and these people and the chance to die more often than not in one incredibly horrible or even pathetically lackluster way or another. The Depths held plenty of things and horrors on its own, and so did every corner of Castleburg as far as she knew. Horrors that were open and violent and easy to screan and run from, monsters that crushed you from behind closed doors, and things that though they were saviors or in the right no matter what despite the sufficient coating of blood and gore on themselves in the aftermath. Even her catch-up education in lockup had certainly made things clear when learning about history and the sort as well.

But, for now, she'd continue with the better part of what she wanted to say.

"So the local Brookside way I know to deal with em' is simple enough: Think like em' and get in their head a little. Use similar clever tactics. Do not go off alone or pursue them for any reason, even if you've got two people to do so. They and anyone inside of that building who doesn't want us alive here want you to do that, whether its out elsewhere in the open or inside a building or somethin', and you will potentially die.

Starting us off with the plan proper, though, is the bait. Role's pretty self-exlanatory, even if it at first seems to be against the general rule I just gave ya'. Bait draws the Zards out not too far out from their home, they're not stupid after all, to where the rest of everyone needs to set up a proper perimeter inside and out while keeping an eye out while the bait does their thing.

Outside of the perimeter is the majority of people whose one big job is keepin' the numbers of em' at bay, watching out for danger from the Zards or other sources, and keepin' us from getting surprised from other things from the outside as best as possible. Given the ambitious and reckless idiots the metas we're investigating inside are tryin' to emulate, expect sneak attacks or sniping or traps or that sort of thing as a potential hazard outright throughout all of this at all times.

Inside the perimeter, then, we then have our heavy-hitters. These are the ones whose main jobs is to kill as many of em' as fast as they can. Bait brings the first bunch into a hole we leave wide open on the front of the perimeter, then before the outer perimeter people get overwhelmed or hit in the back heavy hitters begin smashin' those that followed the bait in fast and hard. We leave that hole in the front of the perimeter because its where the bait brings em' in for the heaviy hitters ta' begin the meat grinder initially, and ta' make these things think its a weakness they can exploit ta' flank those on the outer perimeter so they keep sendin' more of their own in to get chewed up by the heavy hitters like a meat grinder.

Bait after kickin' things off and getting back ta' safety then helps the outside of the perimeter or even the inside as needed, at least unless the Zards stop coming into the perimeter opening an' start holdin' back. If the Zards stop sending more of their own inside the openin', everyone goes to perimeter and fills out the hole ta' help out and avoid getting us flanked and overrun."

Cull the numbers, and then the Zards would not be as confident eventually. Would still be clever still to kill if they retreated and you opted to follow them like a suicidal idiot, but get a frenzy going to get them running in and dying by the numbers and it would pay off handesomely by killing them off before they could think to retreat overall. Even the gangs had to deal with or keep these sorts of things at bay in this part of the city, no matter how big or small you were as a gang, for that matter. Skulls had to do it often enough, and she'd been on those missions too after her power had kicked in. Had been part of her years of being in the meat grinder herself, almost quite literally at times depending on the fight and how much damage she took and the like. But having a basic plan of some sort to fight these things was certianly an important one when dealing with clever and deadly creatures who enjoyed using numbers and intellect as their two biggest weapons....same went for some gangs and villains or people in general, perhaps, now that she thought about it. Eh, that thinking was something to look at later really though....not right now while things were getting laid out to go.

"Finally, if anyone needs help, then damn well shout for help and don't stay silent or leave someone else to get overrun. Pride, loyalty, helpin' other people, and nothing else like that matters if you're dead. So if we're gettin' too overloaded, then, we all back the perimeter up together. Careful retreat unless situations demands otherwise badly enough. Get far enough away, Zards'll take longer to get to us or might go back home if they see us as not worth it if its been long enough. Eventually we get far enough ta' regroup and recoup before headin' back into things.

Even if we have to do anythin' like this or not, though, remember the first big rule and don't forget it.

Aaaand that's the basics of Brookside Zard huntin'!"

You let anything, other metas or humans or Leftovers or any enemy sneak up on you when you aren't expecting it, or they make you fight on their terms, it wasn't ever a good sign in her book. Sometimes you had to handle such situations no matter how well you prepared, though, which was another follow-up to that. Simple. It didn't matter how strong you were, fast you were, or anything if you got yourself into a stupid situation or fumbled about things badly enough they could kill you either way. Either way it could be a death sentence all the same, and you might die simply because you didn't take it seriously enough. Overestimation had its problems, sure, but to hell if not focusing on the end goal or underestimating was going to help either. Going against Zards without a proper plan or people willing to do it was going to benefit anyone but themselves, specially the Zards and the so-called 'Azure Skulls' of all things. So yeah, she wasn't going to pull those punches here....not if anyone here wanted to stay alive by the end of it. Even if it pissed anyone here off to interrupt their lovely glaring and talking session, they had far bigger problems to face here than ICOSA in the short term situation of this mission for sure.

And it didn't help two of these kids were either her age or younger and didn't seem to have any experience with stuff like this, at least according to what she could glean on them beforehand when reading about her coworkers to try to get some idea of them across the board. Still, Luna stood there with her left hand in her pocket and her right wrist held up near her mouth to keep speaking things out to the group.

Better to have a plan than no plan. Better to say something and try to get them on task than mull about. Even a good enough backstabber in the streets knew when to cut and run with the profit and when to not let themselves and everyone else die in the process....in theory. Too many idiots in the world sometime, it seemed, to her eyes. But that was another matter altogether and she didn't want to get sidetracked in all of this.

"So, with that all in mind it is my strong suggestion we have someone like myself or Blur act as bait. Someone who's fast enough, in his case it seems, or expeienced enough with these things, like myself, who can survive to draw em' out to everyone else or has done this before. Point is ultimately for the bait and tactic here to bring them into our battle arena under our rules, and ta' not let them draw us apart and split us up and bring us into their territory instead where we get picked off one by one or two by two.

Ardent, you have air superiority here against these things if you stays high up enough, and you can best cover Crane if she's in trouble I believe. Terraformer can shape the land around us as we need, mind that these things can climb like crazy though, but all we'd need is enough to slow em' down or get em' to scramble where you can use rock or something to crush em' hard without holdin' back. Crane has the size and perspective advantage, so she could work in the perimeter or on the outside of it. Then Lab Rat has some speed as well as some durability of a sort too. That's even going ta' be my suggestion for a perimeter team at that.

Mire, you're my first thought for heavy hitters on the inside of the perimeter. Can melt em' down good and effectively. I'd be another suggestion for the heavy hitters, as I can be fightin' a few at once and hit hard. Blur is another suggestion as well. If me or Blur acts as bait, then the two of us with Mire can handle the meat grinder inside of the perimeter as the heavy hitters from that point.

And last, but not least, I will say this again: Do. Not. Go. Alone. Or. Follow. These. Things. Or. Anyone. Or. Anything. Else. Away. From. The. Group. For. Any. Reason. At. All. Not even if you see a meta inside the factory with chocolate chip cookies, or they're prestending to be your friend or something. No. Reason. Do not trust anyone but the group of us sticking close together, do not get cocky with the Zards, and have your eyes on your back and the back of the person next to you. Call for help if you need it, and if you are afraid of panicking just focus as best as you can on your 'lane' of the operation and role."

Any questions? Could ask that, but she knew the easy sass answers to that question already. But if anyone had a question, an alternative idea, or the like then they needed to say it now or she was going to try to get them going and moving before it was too late. She really hoped they could get moving before they either broke apart or something from stupid internal fighting or sat around for too long and wasted the time they had for this mission by flushing it and themselves right down mouths of the Terrazard-shaped toilets running around about two hunded and something yards of into the distance. Literally or otherwise, she'd let them pick at that stage as otherwise she likely would be most busy at that venture trying to save as many of their collective carcasses as she could from the grip of death and further trauma.

@Blizz@ManyThings@Silver Carrot@shylarah@Hitman@DClassified@Zoey Boey

---

---

Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant

Jareth spent the van ride over to Brookside quietly worrying about Amuné. She'd been tapped for a psych eval by ICOSA's resident pests, and he was certain she was highly anxious about it, for all she'd put on a brave face. He silently wished her the best of luck as he clambered out of the van at their destination, and put the matter from his mind. Now was no time to be distracted.

He joined the group gathering by Crane just in time for Mire's little rant. Amuné had filled him in on the creature, but man did they have a bad attitude. And then Wiseman's voice in his ear, along with a top-down map of the facility on his watch.

Luna was the next to speak, and she had quite the spiel for the group. Jareth was grateful for the information, and for some semblance of a plan. He nodded as she reiterated that they were not to split off from the group for any reason. That was good advice. Her plan seemed solid as well. He reached out with his power, trying to assess the ground. "Not a lot of rock near the surface," he said aloud. He looked at Luna. "If they can climb well, I'll have to slant walls outwards. But they're long -- anything I build that they can't get over is going to block sight lines, and I don't really want that. I think I'll be best served opening up sinkholes and then closing them again on the 'zards."

---

Samuel Peterson.

A business mogul whose finger was on the pulse of the city - both the mundane and the criminal underbelly. With his investments in a variety of cover businesses and money-laundering schemes, HERO had rightfully identified him as a possible collaborator to the various criminal organizations that called Castleburg their home. With the reveal that he had been a primary investor behind the Fiendish Five, HERO has been forced to focus on him and reveal his true intentions before he could support another crime syndicate or mercenary team.

If rumors were true, his actions over the years would be partly responsible for millions of dollars in damage to the city, hundreds to thousands of injuries, and even the death of civilians and heroes alike.

But worst of all...

'This motherfucker gave Rocky 2 a 6.8/10! He's GOTTA be up to some shady shit if he's got such bad taste, no doubt about it...'

Cinepedia was a vestigial branch of Peterson Communications, which served as a movie and television review platform. Despite being outclassed by several other review sites in terms of funding and reputation, the critics were known for their scathing critique of otherwise beloved films, and the forumns that were hosted on the site served as a fierce hotbed for discussion on a variety of genres. Rupa had been banned (and made sockpuppet accounts) over 38 times in defense of her favorite films.

'Heheheh... Bet StallonePwn84 would be PISSED if he knew I was about to get his boss arrested. Serves you right, asswipe!!! RAMBO AIN'T A 6.5!!!'

She coughed and closed the file she was reading on her phone, before pulling out a vanilla folder from her bag and lighting it ablaze. She had wanted to print the actual file and burn it like the spies did in the movies, but ALISA said that printing mission files that were supposed to be secret from ICOSA wasn't a good idea. And she was using the printers to make the invitations or whatever... Rupa ended up just bringing a folder with a few blank pieces of printer paper, and played pretend. She stashed the lighter in her pocket before dropping the burning folder into a nearby trashcan (which she had emptied earlier because she was scared of starting a real fire) and quickly made her way out of the alley and onto the street.

It took quite a bit of convincing for Rupa to get sent on this mission. Considering her behavior on the Scavenger Hunt and several incidents that occurred in the last month of patrol (hopefully that cat was okay...), she didn't strike most individuals in HERO as 'subtle'. But after begging Ms. Duff for a few hours and promising to stop prank calling Powers at 2 AM from burner phones, Rupa finally managed to get a shot! If she managed to pull this off without a hitch, not only would she get her revenge on Cinepedia, but she could prove her responsibility and maturity to the other heroes!

She had prepared for the mission as best as she could - she actually read the mission file for once, she practiced her best snobby rich elitist impression, and even got her landlord Mrs. Yuvaves to make her an outfit for the occasion! A white dress shirt, a black vest, black dress pants, shiny dress shoes, and a bow tie. Rupa was hoping for a suit jacket so she could complete the James Bond look, but beggars can't be choosers. She even slicked her hair back into a ponytail, though she probably used way too much oil.

The walk to Passenger Island was surprisingly brief - there was very little foot traffic on the bridge, as anyone who was invited to the event was almost certainly being driven there in a limo or something. Within a dozen minutes, Rupa stood in front of the massive mansion that comprised the Peterson estate. There was countless vehicles parked all around the property, with frantic valets racing all around to clear space and allow more guests to pour in.

Rupa attracted a few looks from the other guests, almost certainly because she was dressed so well, and she patiently waited in line before approaching the intimidating doorman. She assumed a strange hybrid between a bow and a curtsy as she greeted the man.

"Ahem~ Good evening, my good sir! I believe Mr. Peterson is expecting moi?"

The doorman cocked an eyebrow, clearly unamused. Rupa maintained the pose for a few more seconds before awkwardly rifling through her bag, and retrieving the invitation that ALISA had made. He took it as she continued her practiced introduction.

"My name is Maxine Zorin, CEO and Founder of the microchip manufacturing company calle-"

"Hm? What the hell? Waitstaff are supposed to come in through the back! Get the hell inside, you're late!"

"Wh-!? I-I'm not part of the staff, I'm a guest! I got a backstory and everything!!!"

Rupa sputtered and whined as she was pushed through the door by the burly doorman, who was grumbling about the hiring manager cheaping out and hiring a crazy high school dropout to staff a formal event. As she stumbled into the mansion, she looked down and actually examined her invitation seriously - it was a nondescript paper, much less decorated than the invitations held by the other guests, with the word 'Waitstaff' boldly printed on the front in large text, just above the address of the venue itself. At the bottom was the name 'Ruby Zorin', as well as information about the dress code and hours.

Rupa could hear a cough from behind her, and turned to see several proper guests glaring at her for standing in the middle of the entryway. She quickly jumped to the side to allow them to pass.

"S-sorry sir! Super duper sorry!"

Being inside this place was way more intimidating than Rupa thought it would be. The entrance room alone looked larger than most apartments, and that wasn't even mentioning how lavishly decorated it was. The red carpeted floor instantly reminded Rupa of the Oscars, and the spiraling stairway nearby let to an upper floor that looked over the nearby ballroom. The ballroom itself was massive, and most guests had pooled in there and were listening to a string quartet that sounded straight out of Titanic.

All things considered, it was almost as luxurious as the Paksha headquarters. Missing a few dozen golden statues and death traps, but still orders of magnitude nicer than the shitbox Rupa was living in currently.

She wandered around the ballroom for a few minutes before eventually spotting the kitchen. If she had to be waitstaff instead of a badass spy, then it would probably be smart to at least look the part. She pushed into the kitchen, immediately being hit by the intense heat and the sounds of dishes cooking and chefs yelling at one another. The kitchen itself was about as lavish as any other part of the mansion, with dozens of ovens, prep stations, and grills for any kind of meal. For someone who could barely use a microwave, Rupa couldn't even name half of the appliances she could see, let alone what they were used for.

Identifying the person in charge was easy - Cook up a Storm taught her that the guy with the tallest hat was in charge. In this case, a shorter woman with red hair who was currently hovering over an anxious-looking Pattisier. Rupa walked up to her without a thought, focused more on avoiding the other chefs who were running around and calling out orders or that they were passing each other.

"E-excuse me, I was wondering what I can do to hel-"

The head chef snapped towards the new arrival and looked Rupa up and down, eyes narrowing before launching into a frenzied critique and cutting the younger woman off mid-sentence.

"Why are you so late!? All waitstaff were supposed to arrive at 4 PM sharp to assist in setup and food prep! And you're not even in uniform!? Putain de bordel de merde! We specified Onyx Black for the vests and pants - you are clearly wearing Charcoal! If we weren't running a damn skeleton crew, I'd kick your ass to the curb myself!"

Rupa crumpled instantly and almost had tears in her eyes as she croaked a response to the fuming older woman, completely forgetting that she wasn't even employed here.

"I-I-I'm sorry chef! I-It won't happen again, I p-promise! P-please don't fire meeeee!!!"

The woman swore as a pot began to boil nearby, and she yelled commands to a terrified Saucier as she left Rupa shaking in the middle of the kitchen. A tall, clean-shaven man in a uniform almost identical to Rupa's outfit pushed past her, carrying a tray of what looked like a Slider's millionaire uncle. He paused at the door as he looked her way.

"Grab something and keep your head down, greenhorn. Chef Cazenave hammers any nails that stick out. Read the card on the tray, give the suits some snacks, you'll survive. And don't cry, they can smell insecurity like blood in the water."

As Rupa hurriedly grabbed the nearest tray of appetizers, she was starting to wish she was assigned to the leftover mission instead. At least there she'd be torn apart physically rather than verbally. Rupa wandered around and desperately looked for one of the other undercover heroes. Eva was the number one choice, considering she was a known quantity, but hacker girl or one of the others would be more than welcome compared to flying solo...

She reached up to the hidden earpiece, muttering a response as a few other team members reported on their presence in the mansion.

"S-shining like a shooting star, the Casino Royale of superspies... Alchemist has landed in the building. D-don't talk to Chef Cazenave, she's very scary... If anybody wants a sandwich, I'm near the alcoves and the bar..."

Oh right, she was supposed to blend in. And get info. Be a spy! Rupa walked over to a nearby group of guests, cutting in as soon as their was a lull in their conversation.

"G-good evening, gentlemen! Ladies, you look wonderful - that necklace is stunning ma'am, looks like the one from Titanic! Hate that she throws it in the ocean at the end... Could I interest you in a... uhm... 'Mini Kobe Beef Slider with Caramelized Onions and Blue Cheese on Toasted Brioche, served with a Balsamic Reduction'? I... I'll just call them Mini Royales with Cheese, cause I watched Pulp Fiction last night... Have you guys seen it? So it starts with-"

This mission was not going to end well.

Alpha and Alien Angel
October 10th, 2029.
Peterson Estates
Passenger Island, Castleburg
Status: Alpha (at location), Alien Angel (Nearby. Exact location unknown.)
_______________

Perhaps unknown to the heroes at the Peterson Estates, there was another there for similar reasons. Though in this case, it would be a "trained soldier" who knew a thing or two about stealth.

To Alpha though, he wondered why Angelia felt the need to "dress" him up as one of Mr. Petersons security. He could possibly get past all the security without having to get lethal but due to the nature of the target, they needed to be more stealth than usual. Right now, he was actually dressed in your basic suit. Combination colors of black and white. If anything, he looked like a certain double O agent. Though Angelia had dyed his orange hair black to make it more convincing. It was what she did afterwards though that was impressive.

After the "H.E.R.O. Day" incidents, it didn't take long for her to track down a source to whoever put The Fiendish Five up to said attack. While she didn't know if Mr. Peterson knew anything about the runaway scientist of the five, he'd either been responsible for it or KNEW who actually was. The man was a serious "white collar" villain, as some vigilante's use said term, around Castleburg so he'd be a prime source of information. Problem was, they couldn't just kick in his front door and rough him up. Sadly, as Ardent had found out the hard way, such individuals had lots of money and lots of free time to set up legal walls around themselves. Lawyers. Security both human and electronic. They get rough and Hero One would be all over the both of them first even if they themselves didn't like the guy.

So they needed a plan. Which started with Alpha getting to know said employee. For one, he frequent the illegal underground fight scene's around Castleburg but as a gambler during his down time. Two, said employee was giving out a "job offer" that Mr. Peterson was looking for "capable security" members for events he hosted but was being sloppy about it by using those fight areas to look for recruits. Alpha had posed as a former "disgruntled marine trainee", perhaps a bit too accurate of what he generally was, named "Coyote" and was asking around for work. The man said to step into the ring and to show him what he could do. Needless to say, Alpha, even without his powers, won three bouts in a row. Though it was only because his three opponents were sadly your common thugs thinking they had an easy chance.

Alpha was also happy that he didn't run into Hero One operative "Backup". From what Angelia had said after meeting her, she sometimes did get involved in said fights. Getting into any sort of a fight with an official Hero One operative, even in an illegal activity, wouldn't look good on his resume.

It didn't take long after that to gain favor. But because of how important the role was, the employee warned him to stay out of fights till said events were over and if he was informed about ANY upcoming events. This was only a week ago. Then, he was told about this event so he had to keep himself healthy for it.

Now, here he was. It was still risky since he was technically an "unknown" to Mr. Peterson. The employee simply said to "act tough and I'll cover for your presence there if anyone asks so don't screw up". He even promised a big payday if everything went off without a hitch but after the way he saw him fight, anyone would be stupid to start trouble with you here as he generally put it.

So, suited up in black hair dye and even wearing black sunglasses of all things, Alpha was doing just that on the main floor. Acting tough. Just standing in one spot but at times, moving around as if on patrol. But that was part of the plan.

On his person was a special USB drive that Angelia herself had modified that acted as a "Wi Fi" point specifically designed for her Meta Hack. For Alpha, it was just a matter of either finding the main server room or even any PC slash Laptop Mr. Peterson had in his estate and letting Angelia do her work on whatever was on it by plugging it into a USB port. Sure, she could use her powers to just find a Wi Fi point within the estate itself and just bypass all the security but Mr. Peterson seemed like a careful individual when it came to electronic security. Sure, she'd get past all the firewalls and other security but that wouldn't stop someONE or someTHING from "detecting" said intrusion and raise an alarm. Then all Peterson had to do was take appropriate action and anything they did find would pretty much be "nulled" by his lawyers.

Alpha had agreed...this job had to be done professionally.

On his earbud, other security were doing checks-ins and Alpha just followed the motions...then he heard a certain "video game ring".

"...it's me. Don't respond but just giving you an update. I'm in their system. Seems I can get away with hacking into the security cameras without anyone being sus about it. When the time comes, I'll tell you were to start looking."

Again, Alpha just acting like he was supposed to...not long after that, though, that ring happened again.

"Oy...we may have a problem...I found a "bug" of sorts on the camera system. Problem is, it wasn't me...ugh diablo why do I suddenly feel like we ain't the only ones here. Just continue your thing. I'll check back in a few."

* * * * * * * * * *

??????????
Interaction: Wiseman @Blizz
_______________

If Wiseman were to pay attention to one of his screens, he'd suddenly see a text message from an unknown individual.

!@$&: Don't know who you are but beat it. This is my score.

---

---

It had been a month since the situation with the Fiendish Five had concluded. The affair had been dealt with quickly and without much fuss, with the entire team—bar Gholem—being taken into custody rather easily. For a group of hardened mercenaries, they had gone down easier than a stack of playing cards. It was almost disappointing how easy it had been, but more than anything, it left Riley suspicious. Why had they only sent two of them to invade Hero One? It was difficult to believe it was because they'd thought that the two of them could do it alone. No one–it was unlikely they were that stupid. It wasn't a high bar of intelligence to clear, but it was there.

Well, it wasn't like it was his problem to solve anyway. H.E.R.O. was the one who had to deal with figuring that stuff out, and if they couldn't? Well, there goes any faith he might have had in their capabilities to do their job. Might, being the operative word. He had his own things to think about, like that giant, magnificent specimen he so very much wanted to di–study. He hadn't the chance to interact with it–her after the fact, though not for a lack of trying. That fungal leftover was a unique find as well, though of lesser interest. His initial thoughts were to take it apart, but then he realised its sapience and backtracked. That would have been a waste.

Riley sighed.

It was a good thing that Hero One had a big empty space lying around underground that he could use without reservations. Why did they have such a thing? Riley couldn't really say. Still, it made things easier and safer for everyone else if he wasn't out in the open when he was using his powers to do.... anything, really.

He couldn't afford to forget that.

The space being unoccupied also meant he could have a conversation without being interrupted by anyone. Even if it hadn't exactly gone in a direction he would have liked.

Everything was only downhill from there.

That was why Riley now found himself at Hero Three for an I.C.O.S.A. evaluation that he couldn't care less about, all because Powers was so inefficient. It wasn't hard to figure out why he—among others—hadn't been spared this evaluation while many others had. Riley never liked this kind of compromise. On the plus side, the place was a lot nicer than he'd expected, even if his enjoyment was somewhat dampened by the reason for his visit.

Despite his irritation, let it never be said that Riley wasn't punctual.

One good thing was the fact that he'd been provided with information about the observers sent by I.C.O.S.A—not much, but better than nothing. Discreetly, of course. The first one, Q. Spencer Randolph, also known as Magician, was a mage-type, and a self-righteous bugger to boot. A more vulgar person would have called him something very different. The other one, Marisol Pérez, hero name Chimaera, was a more recent addition to the organisation. Neither were as important as the last person; Dr. Sabine Reininger.

Riley didn't have anything against psychologists per se, but when they wanted to know what was going on in his head, then he had a problem. Especially since she was with I.C.O.S.A. If this was any other time, he wouldn't have even entertained the thought of being here. Unfortunately, that was not an option, much as he loathed the idea.

His eyes shifted to the door as it opened and two people stepped out, and the crystal between his teeth crunched. Pérez was absent, as expected. Probably bothering one of the other groups like the nuisance she was meant to be. The pricks were annoying like that.

The moment Mr. Randolph opened his mouth to speak, Riley had already mostly checked out. The audacity to ask for someone to volunteer to go first as if it being here was a choice. And he didn't miss the way the man had cut himself off either.

The psychologist added some meaningless context to Magician's words. If she really wanted to make this evaluation “painless” and “time-effective”, she could evaluate her way out the door. Riley's actual response to her platitudes was shorter.

“Piss off.”

<sub>@Hitman
[Lex.file/img/crpt/transmit/Powers.Hugo]

W̶i̷s̵e̶m̵a̶n̶.̵E̵n̶c̵r̷y̵p̴t̷e̶d̶: I am watching over our heroes as we speak. Alien Angel and Alpha are at the same location as our off-record mission. I convinced her to fix that problem for us. They do not suspect it was me. See below.

[File Sent]

[File Reception Confirmed]</sub>

---

---

#######: Who I am does not concern you. We were here before you, and we will be here well after you. Begone, and pray I don't alert ICOSA to your presence.

!@#$: PHFT! That's a bluff. I know they're in town, sure, but they're too busy putting sticks up Hero One's asses.

#######: Less busy than you think, Alien Angel.

There was a brief pause that suggested that Wiseman hit the mark. Then this image suddenly popped up...



#######: I have eyes and ears everywhere on this planet. I know your every move, and I will bring the entire world down upon your head if you so much as dare to stand in my way. It will cost me nothing.

!@#$: Wrong...it'll cost you Hero One. I take it the ICOSA doesn't know about you and your possible spies around this little get-together-of-white-collar-villains. Wanna bet I blow the whistle and endanger your whole op JUST to...say...take advantage of the chaos?

#######: The chaos that I will reap from. Entertain me for a moment: Do you think it was a coincidence that you were in the area when the Fiendish Five assaulted a parade?

Again, a pause. Then another message:

!@#$: ...forget putting the stick up your ass...there's one there already.

#######: You are playing my game, little vigilante, as is your cohort across the bar. The web is deeper than you can understand. You will listen to me carefully, or you will not walk out of there alive.

!@#$: ...touche chico...knew you were dangerous when I couldn't Meta Hack your background...but seriously, Chilax. Life and Death situations, ok I get that. Silly chess games? Do you always have to be the smart ass in the room?

#######: Perhaps I overestimated your competence. When I say "you," I am referring to J̶̪̫͍̺̞̺̘̠̜̳͒̐̌̎̊̽̓ͅͅa̷̢̧͖͓͍͇͕̹̥̖̤͓̝̠͖̥̽̑̃̓̄̿͘͘ ̶̢͈͈͓̝̗̪͚̻̦̭̭̰̂͌̋̍̚͝͝ȩ̵̣͈̣͉̗̹̦̖̘̭̟͇͔̝͙̤̈͛͊̄ ̷̤̯̫̩̻̞̖͙͇͔͂͂̍̂̌̅̾̕͠A̴̢̛̙̳̞̘̞̳͉͋̈͑̌͐̇̌̋͗̊͑̔̂̊̂r̷͙̺̜̠͌̀̍̽̇̑̔͌͐́͆̽̓ ̶͕̞̮̖̇̈̎̓͛͗̿̽̆ḿ̶̢̪̩͈̻̲̖̬ ̷͎̝̬̩̘͊̑̈́͑͋̏͂̇͂͂̕͠s̴̛͙͚̿͑̾́̓̈́͗͗̎̆̀̑̓͊̒͝ţ̸̻̤͖̿̓̿̾̊̓̈́́̿͘͝ȑ̴̡̙̤̱̞͌̄̈́̅̋͑̽͜͝ ̷̡̲̲͔̠̞̮̦̦̠̍̏̾̚ ̵̼̙̹̙̞̮͋͐̃̀̉̊̔̈́̔͝͠͠g̸̢̓̉͌͂̃̀͋̚ as well. Alternatively, I could let ICOSA chase him across the world once I leak this document into the databases of the first few countries I think of. You wouldn't want that for your dear friend, now would you?

!@#$: ...my friend is someone who got fed up with the system and guys like you telling them who their "friends" are supposed to be. He and I saw shit early. More so...threats like that are empty...try living in a cage for who knows how long THEN tell us about "real" hell like country-wise witch hunts...

!@#$: ...but I know when I'm outgunned and outskilled...fine. I'm aborting this.

#######: I believe you. You have exactly three minutes to get as far away from this building as humanly possible before half of the First World receives a transmission of the ITP bug that I just rooted into your devices.

#######: Do not test me further.

!@#$: Who's testing? This clearly wasn't bugging you...just don't screw this up. Take it from someone who DOES know first hand: don't give the ICOSA any ammo by being discovered here...now the hard part. Getting my friend away from the place...I hope you realize how much trouble I went through to just get him in his position.

#######: If you understood your place in the grand scheme of what we do, perhaps you would grasp just how little your troubles mean to me. You are alive, and that is more than can be said for the last series of self-serving amateurs who invoked my wrath.

#######: Two minutes and thirty seconds. Move.

!@#$: Yeah yeah quit barking. I'll have Alpha fake a stomach bug and we leave. Still, Cillax.

!@#$: To quote a wrestler: "Sometimes it's "Hell" getting to "Heaven".