[IC] Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

[Hound55]

"Hey!" Dennis called out into the haze.

"Is anyone still here!"

"HEY!"

Dennis couldn't remember how long he'd been stumbling around here. Everything defied description and nothing made any earthly sense.

"Huh..." A disgruntled grunt pierced the fugue. "We aren't the ones who ever left."

"Who is that?!" Dennis called out, plunging onwards towards the sound. "I know that voice!"

Dennis waded through the viscous soup with uncharacteristic courage. A courage that would not be rewarded as he came face to face with the source...

The demonic face that had haunted him ever since that day.

"What the HELL?!?" He exclaimed, stumbling over and sliding on his rear end away from the growing figure in the darkness.

"Hell? No, no. You know me, Dennis. You know I'd have gone to the 'other place'." The figure kept growing, casting a larger and larger shadow over Dennis, but as it did he saw that he was wrong about the face. His initial thoughts as to the voice seemed correct.

"Sean?" He called out the name of his dead brother. "Sean, is that you?"

"Got it again. Heh. You sure you're MY brother?" Dennis' now-giant sibling mocked.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Same as always. Taking care of business. Cleaning up the mess." Then Dennis saw what was in his hands. He saw as it was pointed at him.

The Golden Rod.

"Sean... what are you doing? No!"

"The mess always seems to have the same source though. Seems the best way to clean it up so it doesn't come back is to jump to the source..."

"Sean, no! I'm your brother!" Dennis implored, his eyes dripped cold tears, but he felt sure he had to hold them back to talk his way out.

"This is going to be mighty uncomfortable for a second, bro." He felt light pass over his body from the rod, in a second would come the intense heat, what a way to go...

"SEAN, NO! WHATEVER I DID! I'M SORRY!"

A bright flash passed over him and his whole body shuddered.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

Dennis sat up with a gasp, shaking from the sudden intense cold.

Gone was his brother, the demon, the fog. All he saw was his bed covered in all 24 empty cans from last night's case of beer and a small pile of snow...

"Get up. Traumatized meltdown time is over. You're back in training." The old man abruptly informed him before closing Dennis' bedroom window and walking back to the main house with the empty snow bucket.

Dennis breathed heavily and quietly thanked himself for stashing the more objectionable substances the night before. He ran a hand through his bed-hair and as he heard the screen door slam behind his grandfather, he wondered whether this world or the dream one would be preferable.

---

---

Fifteen minutes later Dennis was in the main house in warmer clothes addressing his grandfather.

"What the hell was that all about?"

"I gave you your time off. We're getting back to work." Alan calmly replied, not gratifying Dennis' dramatic outburst in any way.

"Back to-- Back to work? Hey! I almost died!" Dennis was getting increasingly frustrated.

"You 'almost died'? Heh. Do you have any idea how many times I 'almost died'? If you're not almost dying, you aren't living."

"I--" Dennis caught himself yelling, then steadied himself.

"I disagree..." Dennis said through gritted teeth. "I've been living for 20-odd years now just fine without almost dying."

"Is that what you call it?" Alan replied, with a wry old smile creased across his face. "You've had it now - used the Golden Rod - felt a taste of what it can bring you, and that's what you call those years?"

"Well, what do you call it?!" Dennis burst, immediately regretting asking the question.

He'd seen the looks over the years. The unmistakable expressions of disappointment. Sorrow, with a hint of the contempt of pity even breaking through. He immediately regretted throwing the question out there, because he knew the answer. But surely he wouldn't say it.

Surely.

"I call it a waste of life."

"I call it a selfish refusal to realize potential to run from the responsibilities it might bring."

"..."

"And I'm not going to let you anymore. I can't. I don't have the time."

"Hell literally broke loose..." Dennis weakly replied.

"And it was pushed back. It won't be the last time. That or something else, something bigger."

Dennis stood like a thin tree; looking like a light breeze could knock him over until his grandfather once again broke the silence.

"Now one way or another you're training. Either grab the damn rod or we're working on your ability to take a punch from an old man..."

Dennis looked away and wiped his cheek, realising the cold drip from before was from the snow and not actual tears. He picked up the Golden Rod.

Alan Coghlan. To Dennis Connolly; the one man whose wrath made the gates of hell seem like a pretty good alternative.

[Byrd Man]

When Last We Left Our Heroes

MacArthur Island
South Pacific
14:07 Local Time

The thick metal door blew off its hinges and landed on the floor with loud crash. Theodore Roosevelt stepped on the door and entered the room. He gripped te automatic rifle in his hands tightly and looked across the room. The opulent throne room was decked out in the same style of Emperor Hirohito's Chrysanthemum Throne with dark red silk carpets and drapes. In place of a Japanese imperial standard on the walls, there was another symbol. Five silver stars arranged in a pentagonal cluster. On the golden throne at the other side of the room, Douglas MacArthur sat and looked at Roosevelt with half-closed eyes. Two armed guards that flanked both sides of the throne were already drawing down on Roosevelt, only to be waved off by MacArthur.

"You and Mr. Lincoln are proving to be quite the bee in MacArthur's bonnet," said the general. "I should have killed the two of your as soon as possible."

"The Executive Branch feel the same about you, general," replied Roosevelt. "Reviving you is one of the worst mistakes they made, and considering their history that is saying quite a lot."

"Desperate times, Mr. President."

MacArthur stood and began to walk towards Roosevelt, his bodyguards walking with him.

"The thing you must ask yourself, Mr. Roosevelt, is why are you really after MacArthur? What has he done to warrant this aggression?"

Roosevelt began to open his mouth but stopped as MacArthur held a hand up.

"This latest endeavour aside, sir. MacArthur will admit this plan is just cause for retribution, but what did he do before that? Why did the Founders try to kill him all those years ago?"

Roosevelt was at a loss for words for once. He had no idea what the original circumstances were that led to the first attempt on the general's life, his banishment from the Executive Branch, and his decades in hiding. He just knew that he had done something wrong and a team of agents had tried to kill him.

"He figured as much," said MacArthur. "The crime MacArthur committed, the thing that marked him as a dead man, was that he discovered the truth."

"What truth, sir?"

The general let a grin slip out from under his steely facade. He shook his head, as if he were trying to explain something simple to a dense child.

"There is a rot at the heart of the Executive Branch. Your masters are not who you think they are, their intentions are not what they profess to be. MacArthur discovered this a long time ago, and he was punished for it."

"So this is your revenge, general?" asked Roosevelt. "Remake the world in your twisted image? You ally with a genocidal warlord to conquer the world?"

"Indeed," was the general's reply. "The Khan, like MacArthur, realize that sacrifices must be made. What, in the long run, is a few million in the name of protecting billions?"

"Genocide in the name of world safety," spat Roosevelt. "You will indeed be a shining idol for the next age."

MacArthur began to reply, but was cut short as an announcement boomed through the compound's PA system. It was in Japanese, a language Roosevelt did not speak, but he could tell by the tightening of MacArthur's face that it was bad news. He scowled and turned to Roosevelt.

"A bomber has been spotted on the advanced radar. Thirty minutes out. Jets are being scrambled to take care of it. It seems as if you have sold MacArthur out, Mr. Roosevelt. Such a shame. He had hoped to convert you to his side."

The general said something to his two guards in Chinese. The two men nodded and quickly rushed Roosevelt. The stripped him of his weapon and held him in place while MacArthur walked to the far side of the room where a collection of samurai swords hung on the wall. He took down two and looked back at Roosevelt.

"MacArthur knows he should kill you outright, but he has always been a man of honor, sir. If you die, it will be by his hands."

The general tossed the blade and scabbard down at Roosevelt's feet.

"This is your chance, Mr. President. Grab the sword and complete your mission. Do what no one else has done yet and kill MacArthur."

--

Abraham Lincoln pressed his large frame against the wall and tried his best to hide in the shadows. A group of armed guards rushed by, oblivious of the lanky man a few feet away from him. He waited a few moments before emerging into the corridor and hurrying on his way. Now that FDR had been notified and the bomb was on its way, the next leg of the journey was to find Roosevelt and help him dispatch MacArthur before fleeing the island's impending destruction. The part of the compound he was in had multi-language markings that identified it was the science wing in Chinese, Japanese, and English. He had no idea if Roosevelt or MacArthur were in this part of the base, but he had to hurry up and look.

With a knife at the ready, Lincoln opened up a door marked "Labs" and went inside. He was surprised to find a chubby, bald Asian man in a lab coat looking at him from across a lab table with wide eyes. To Lincoln, it wasn't a look of fear. It was more surprise mixed with hope.

"You!" He said in perfect English with just a hint of a Chinese accent. "You're one of the Americans? You have to help me! Close the door."

Lincoln complied, keeping the man in his sight all the while. The scientist stepped around the table and put both hands on Lincoln's shoulders, shaking him.

"You have to get me out of here! I've been kept here against my will for years now. I--"

"Slow down," Lincoln said softly. "Find your composure, friend. Speak clearly, but quickly. Time is of the essence."

"Okay," he said after a deep breath. "My name is Dr. Hsien Wu, I am a geneticist. I died many years ago, but the people who run this place brought me back to life and put me to work creating the genetic coding and enslavement system they're trying to take over the world with."

"The Khan and his descendants?" Lincoln asked.

"Yes," Wu said excitedly. "My system is a mix of high-power satellite broadcast that overwrites the genetic coding. In short, it will make everyone on the planet with a drop of the Khan's blood become his slave. Millions and millions turned into mindless killing machines. You have to believe me, sir, I was forced into it. I did not mean to build these horrible machines. I just--"

"The people I work for are sending in a bomber to destroy this facility, doctor. Will that be enough?"

"They have backups offsite, sir. We need to destroy them remotely from MacArthur Island."

"Where can we do that?"

"One place," Wu sighed. "The place where the Khan's spirit is being kept."

Lincoln nodded and, after a second of deliberation, said, "Show me the way, doctor. After we destroy it we'll see about getting you out of here."

--

"Shit!" Amelia Earhart said loudly.

Still three hundred miles out from the island she was to bomb, her advanced HUD notified her that six fighter jets had been dispatched from the island and were racing towards her current location. Her jet had no offensive weapons on it. The only defensive weapons were the chaff she could fire off in the event a missile was locked on her and already en route. The biggest thing she had was her speed. This stealth bomber could rip through the sound barrier several times over and not really break a sweat. It left all conventional aircraft in its wake. She could outrun the jets easy enough, but with six of them already forming a perimeter around the island, it would be tough going to evade them all and deliver her payload.

The HUD let out a brash warning, letting her know the jets were slowly getting closer and closer. Earhart muted the notification and strapped the cross belts tight against her. Even though the days of open cockpit flight were long gone, she still wore the goggles on the top of her head. They were her good luck charm. Now, she slid them down over her eyes let out a deep breath. She flicked on the jet's PA system and delivered a message to the weapon in the back.

"This is your captain speaking. We are about to engage in evasive maneuvers, so please make sure you are buckled in tightly. We will experience turbulence and the occasional missile explosion. In the event of a crash, the plane will turn into a flaming metal death trap. Thank you for flying Executive Branch Airlines. We hope you'll fly EB Airlines again, that is if you survive this flight."

Earhart heard a wry laugh through the lead-lined cabin door and let a laugh slip from her lips as well. She punched the throttle and held tightly to the yoke as she started to sing softly to herself.

"Heading into twilight, spreading out her wings tonight. She got you jumping off the deck and shoving into overdrive. Highway to the Danger Zone! Ride into the Danger Zone!"

@Byrd Man

MacArthur Island
South Pacific
14:14 Local Time

Metal clashed and sparks flew. Douglas MacArthur snarled as he swung low with the blade of his katana. The sword clanked against the blade of Theodore Roosevelt's and sent the general back on to his heels. The two figures moved through the shadows of MacArthur's throne room. The general's armed guards looked in impassively as their master fought for his life.

"You have more vigor than your nephew, I'll give you that," MacArthur wheezed as their duel hit a lull. "But you lack grit. That's the problem with you silver spoon types."

MacArthur charged Roosevelt. The general sliced and diced while Roosevelt parried a furious attack from the man.

"You court danger for fun and life experience," MacArthur shouted between blows. "You fight with the detached bemusement of an aristocrat. You have no idea of what it means to fight for ones life. When MacArthur was twenty-three, he killed two Filipino bushwhackers."

Roosevelt let out a cry of pain as the tip of MacArthur's blade sliced into his shoulder. His knee buckled, but he composed himself long enough to fend off another round of blows. Quickly, he scampered back away from the general.

"MacArthur did not have to raise an army with his daddy's money, MacArthur did not kill a couple of underequipped Cubans and call himself a hero. He did not use his family's influence to get a desk job in President Wilson's Navy. He fought, he led men into battle, he saw the enemy face to face."

While MacArthur prattled on in third person, Roosevelt wiped sweat from his forehead and tried to figure out his next move. He was a skilled fighter, but the general was much better with the samurai blade. His study so far had revealed one flaw in the general's form. When MacArthur swung, he always did so in a series of three. On the third swing, he continued to expose the right side of his ribcage. It would be close, but if he was quick enough he may just deal a serious blow to MacArthur.

"And MacArthur always fell short," Roosevelt said softly. "Everyone remembers Ike, Patton, and even Marshall for their skill and fighting ability. All anyone knows of MacArthur is the corncob pipe and Korea. Pomp and incompetence, that's your legacy. No amount of stars, no amount of field marshal batons, no amount of medals will make up for the fact that he tried so hard to be better than his own father... but just like his father, he was fired by the president."

MacArthur's aloof face twisted into a mask of rage. His eyes went wide and he yelled as he charged Roosevelt. Theodore held his ground and fended off the wild hacks from MacArthur's sword. When the third blow was coming, he saw his opportunity and took it. As MacArthur was swinging high, Roosevelt went low and stabbed forward with his sword. The blade pierced the general's ribcage and went up into his organs. He stopped mid-attack and stumbled backward, blood pouring from his abdomen.

Roosevelt wrenched the samurai sword from MacArthur's hand and spun around. The two armed guards who had been observers were running towards Roosevelt with their guns out. He threw both swords at them and watched as the blades buried themselves in the men's chests. They collapsed to the ground before they could even get a shot off.

"Mr. Roosevelt..."

Theodore turned and saw MacArthur on the ground. Blood pooled around his body and soaked his kimono. The general's face was pale and pasty looking. Whatever damage Roosevelt had done to his insides, it was working quickly.

"There's a gun in my kimono," he whispered. "The inside pocket. It's small, but it should be enough to put me out of my misery."

Roosevelt got on one knee and reached into the blood-soaked pocket. As he tried to find it, MacArthur's cold and clammy hands grabbed his forearms and pulled him in close.

"The truth about the Executive Branch," he whispered into Roosevelt's ear. "What I found..."

Roosevelt pulled himself back a few seconds later. He had no response to the information he had just received, or even how to process it. In his hand was a small four-shot derringer. Big enough to do the job.

"What I said was true, Mr. Roosevelt," he grunted in pain. "Every word. Maybe you can change what I could not. Now, go ahead and do what needs to be done.'

Roosevelt cocked the hammer of the derringer back and aimed for MacArthr's head. The general looked at him and nodded.

"Old soldiers never die they just fa--".

Two small gunshots from the derringer cut MacArthur off and ended his life.

----

Amelia Earhart pulled down on the control yoke and held her breath as the nuclear stealth bomber did a spinning dive towards the water. Four fighter jets followed her down into the spin. From her HUD, she was at least three different missile locks from the pursuing fighters and the two in a holding pattern above the island. It was a hard fight, but so far she had managed to evade the fighters as she got increasingly close to the island. They were currently a half mile out from the drop zone. If she could just--

A missile exploded above the diving jet and sent the craft spinning out of its planned path. Earhart looked at her HUD and attempted to right herself before the jet spun into the water. She jerked on the yoke and sent it spinning sideways. She hit the throttle and blasted up into the air, leaving the out of control fighters still free-falling. Her display informed her that two crashed into the water while the other two were still righting themselves. The hairs on the back of her neck tickled. This was it.

She increased speed and blasted towards the island drop zone. The two jets above the island broke off their holding pattern and started to chase after her, but she knew that they were too late. The jet was too fast and she was too good to let them catch up and take her down before she delivered her package above MacArthur Island.

"Thirty seconds," she said into the PA. "I'm opening the door now. When the light goes green, do you thing."

In the back of the bomber's lead lined cargo hold, the hydraulic bomb doors opened up. A rush of freezing air came roaring in with a ear-piercing howl. The passenger didn't mind the noise, and he especially didn't mind the cold. He never got cold since he was brought back to life. The things he could do, heat was his problem. The scorching heat of atomic energy.

With atomic energy pulsating from his hands, Harry S Truman adjusted his necktie and glasses. The light above his head went from green to red. He leaned forward and disappeared out the bomb doors. The roar in his ears was loud, but it was rapidly fading. Replacing it was the sound of sizzling as every cell in his body prepared to release the energy it had stored. Each cell had the energy of the original atomic bomb that devastated Hiroshima, and each cell would release that energy on impact.

From twenty-thousand feet above the earth, Harry Truman closed his eyes and prepared to unleash nuclear holocaust.

[Raptorman]

Things had certainly not worked out according to her plan. She'd been aiming to get the money from the armored car, get away, use the money for tuition and then never do anything like this again. And it had all been going so well too. The constructs had worked just like she had planned them too, the armored car had been taken out, and then some hero, she later learned it was the one called Lyger, had interfered and ruined everything.

Now instead of paying for her college tuition she no longer had college to attend and didn't have to worry about the money, which was about the only positive thing she had going for her. Elaine had never been one to hate, but that guy had foiled her efforts to get something she needed, and it wasn't like she had been on a spree or anything. It was his fault she was in this mess now, his fault!

At least she kept telling herself that as the transport van rattled down the city streets. They were transporting her to the metahuman containment facility, and they'd been smart about it too, nothing she could manipulate or turn into a creation was touching any of her exposed skin. She tried to muster up the fire to keep on being angry, because at least the anger filled her with something, but it was slipping away and leaving only the emptiness of despair behind. Her life was ruined, because of one stupid thing and now...

Her pity party was suddenly interrupted with a bang as she heard the police officers in the front of the van shouting. It was hard to make out the words but she thought she heard something about the darkness. A sudden impact knocked the van over on its side, bouncing her around even though the restraints kept her from moving much. Then there was a horrible ripping and tearing of metal, the harsh barking of gunfire, and then screams, terrible screams of pain and fear.

But the sound that really stood out was not the screaming, or the ripping of metal, or even the gunfire, no the sound that stood out was the laughter. It was a thick and heavy sound, a sound that was phlegmy and inhuman, a sound that seemed to come from deep within the bowels of a monster, if in fact there was something that could make that sound. And it was a laughter that made Elaine panic. She knew what had happened in the last few months, how a monstrous killer had stalked the city slaughtering at will and leaving destruction in his wake.

"You have got to be kidding me." She spoke softly. "First the hero and the police, now this?" But then she fell silent, maybe it wouldn't check the back of the van, maybe she could still get out of this alive. There had to be a chance that it would happen. But somehow she doubted it. Nightmare hadn't been known for letting people survive, he had been known for slaughtering everything that stood in his way.

Instead of the expected sound of more ripping metal there was instead a flash of brilliant light as a white flame obliterated the wall of the van. It was strange, not seemingly like normal fire as rather than burning what it struck simply seemed to vanish as if it had never been. Beyond the hole that now existed in the wall there was only darkness, a thick swirling miasma that was impossible to see through. Elaine readied herself for the worst, but the worst did not come.

There was no flood of darkness pouring in through the large hole. Instead a figure appeared, stepping forth from the darkness in a costume. And as the darkness broke around the figure more details could be seen. The woman was wearing a costume of some kind, a large pointed cone of a hat, half gold and half black was set atop her head and from the sides came a neck guard of fabric that flowed downward, the left half of her face was covered by a black mask of metal and the right half was covered by a golden veil. Two long streamers, one gold from her right side and one black from her left side hung down her back, the chest of the costume seemed to be armored with thin scales of metal under a layer of fabric that still managed to cling tightly to a generous figure. Her lower body was covered by what seemed to be a long skirt like garment that went down past her knees made of the same sort of armored fabric as the top part of the costume. Both of her hands were left free. Though around her right hand a flicker of the white flame still burned.

Elaine had no words at that moment and she could only wait for the death she was sure was coming. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the end. But instead of fire came a gentle laughter. It was a sweet and musical sound that lasted for a few seconds before she heard the woman speak with a voice like an angel's. "Oh my, Old friend it seems your slaughter of the policemen has scared the girl." There was no reply from the swirling darkness. "You can open your eyes young one, we mean you no harm. It's my turn to choose the new recruit."

Elaine opened her eyes when she was told and after a moment of silence where the woman seemed to expect her to speak she managed to say something. "You... You aren't going to kill me?"

And the woman only laughed again and shook her head. "Of course not. This is a jailbreak and an invitation."

"An invitation?"

"Yes, an invitation. We have been leaving recruiting around for the last few months you know."

But before Elaine could say anything in response to this last comment a demonic thing stepped from the darkness. All bones and blades, with a visage that looked like little more than a barren horned skull and armor adorned similarly. At that her already overtaxed nerves failed and oblivion took her.

"I thought we told you to keep some flesh on. They don't take it very well anymore." The woman's voice was highly critical as she directed it towards the skeletal figure.

"It itches. And who are you to give me orders As-- Helen. We are equals" A skeletal hand lifted a bone blade but stopped as another voice boomed, this one far louder.


"YOU WILL BE SILENT. WE HAVE NOT SLEPT LIKE YOU HAVE. WE HAVE LIVED IT AND I DO GIVE YOU ORDERS. SOULFIRE BRING THE GIRL."

And with that silence fell and the darkness poured into the wrecked van.

[Athinar]

The merc sighed, crossing his arms as he spoke. “Look, here me out, between you and me, that’s one hell of a move. It was ballsy and cutthroat, one hell of a shot in the dark in an attempt to put me down. Sure, it didn’t work, but you wouldn’t have known unless you tried, right? So while others are judging you for it, I’m just impressed you had the gumption to try such a move. That’s the kind of ‘never say die’ potential I rarely see.

However, here’s the flipside of this conversation, and subsequently the point I want to make. If it’s not clear to you by this point; I’m kind of a piece of shit, and due to my past track record, I don’t think you’ll find many who don’t agree with that statement. My morals are screwy as hell, I take whoever gives me money to do literally whatever...Hell, before I was hired to rescue you I tried to poison the city with something that I now entirely regret doing, and you know what? I don’t hold it against anyone that they’re going to probably blame me for it. But that’s something I’m going to deal with later, and I’ll own up to it when the time comes. That’s not the point…the point is if someone like me is agreeing with an action like the one you took, then what does it say about what you did?

Bah...Chances are you aren’t even listening to me, it’s not like I can tell behind that bucket of bolts… Whatever, thought I'd just say my piece, damned if you care or not. Still...take it from someone who threw his ethical judgement away far too long ago. Stand by your actions, but let your actions stand for who you are and what you believe...or else you end up without a moral to stand on when the finger is pointed your way.”

@NeutralNexus

Angel kept silent during the other man's speech. His words... they cut him to the core. He made several points that should've been obvious to Angel all along. The young man searched his thoughts, wondering why he never thought of it this way before. His thoughts a jumble, he waited for Trent to stop speaking. Why... why didn't he think of it that way? If his actions didn't stand for what he believed in, then what purpose did they serve? Furthermore, what did he believe in? What exactly was he fighting for?

Why did he end the lives of three bystanders pointlessly?

Who said that he was allowed to kill anyone, to get an edge in a pointless battle?

When did his life get so messed up?

...

...

...

No.

He couldn't get distracted.

Three lives were worth ending the misery of many more.

.... Weren't they?

Angel was so confused.

As the city approached, Angel stared dully at the lights blaring upward towards the dark, dark night, seeming, for all the world, to represent all the lives in the city, to scream "we are here" into the void of space. And the void above stared with its many twinkling eyes, indifferent. Pulling out of the flight, and angling towards the abandoned part of town where his garage was, Angel landed on the cracked asphalt which seemed to have been abandoned for years, and looked towards Trent.

Opening the cockpit, and looking at the merc with eyes that barely began to express his inner turmoil, he spoke, not over the comms, not in the booming power of the suit's system, but in a thick, husky voice. "Trent... Call me Angel. That's my real name. And.... what you said... you're right. If I betray what I'm fighting for, then what good is my cause?"

Mulling this over for a second, he continued. "But then again, if my purpose is confused by my feelings, then how am I supposed to accomplish my goal? You remember our fight. To be honest; you terrify me. I've always had a great power, and my suit is one of a kind, but you? You beat me and my ATD within a matter of minutes. That kind of ability can't be overcome without some sacrifices. I guess the question I'm really asking is, should I take the burden of protecting everyone upon myself, or should I follow my goal to its end, and act as the scalpel to this city's infested underbelly? I lived on the streets here as a kid. I know how terrible it can get. If I can just... excise the infection of human scum, get justice, restore.... equilibrium, then everything would be worth it, right?" The pain showed on Angel's face, and it was clear that he looked to Trent for guidance.

"I need to know what I should do! I'm wandering around with a general goal, but I have no real purpose! I heard whispers of a group, but then all this crazy shit happened, and-and now I don't know what to do!" Angel's voice revealed a mixture of emotions; anger, sadness, confusion, regret, and remorse.

[FacePunch]

Somewhere in Lost Haven
Sometime later

"Thanks for your help, Brook. I appreciate it. Really."

Brooklyn Stone and Laura Smith stepped out of the small family owned coffee shop and onto the dirty streets of Lost Haven. The sun had begun to set and Laura wanted to get her longtime friend home safely before dark. Brooklyn had insisted she'd be fine; she had walked down this road a thousand times. She knew everyone who lived in the neighborhood. But Laura wouldn't budge an inch. Brooklyn begrudgingly accepted Boom's protection, but required that they pick up a couple of hot drinks on the way. "It's not a problem, L. Anytime." Miss Stone responded. But Laura was as persistent as always. "No, really. There isn't anyone else in the world who could do this for Harvey and I. We can't thank you enough." Brooklyn smiled and took a quick sip of her coffee. "You're welcome. I'm just glad to help. I feel like I'm making a difference, you know? I mean, making uniforms for firefighters and jet pilots is fun and all, but I've never been able to see the outcome. With you and Harv, though? Muggings have gone down in Chinatown by over 80% since Icon made his debut. They've had to expand the local prisons three times already and there still isn't enough room!"

Laura didn't know what to say. She was aware that her work was important, but she and her brother hadn't bothered to look at the statistics. There was never any time to pat themselves on the back. It was always 'go go go' in the Smith house. The heroine offered her friend a sincere smile. "It's nice to know our...whatever it is, isn't as useless as it feels." Brooklyn cocked her head in surprise. "What do you mean?" Laura took a long drink and shrugged. "Some days...Some days it seems like for every murderer we put away, twenty people die at Nightmare's hands. For every convenience store robbery we stop, Umbraxis massacres an entire church full of people. Muggers are simple, Laura. Just people being the scum of the earth we all expect them to be. But Umbraxis? Nightmare? How do we fight monsters, Brooklyn?" Brooklyn stopped in her tracks and took Laura by the hand. She looked her friend in the eyes and sighed. "No one blames you for what they do. You're good, Laura. Without Thunderbolt and Boom, Umbraxis would be feasting on the world. Without Icon, Lost Haven would've been crushed underneath a falling space station. Without heroes, I couldn't walk home at night without a taser in my purse. Trust me, you're doing the right thing."

Laura responded, but her words were lost to a sudden clamor of noise that filled the streets. The two women whipped their heads around, scanning the area for the source of the discord. Out of a nearby dark alleyway appeared a forty-three foot tall Tyrannosaurus Rex with tentacles for a face. "Holy shit." Brooklyn gasped in utter perplexity. "Run!" Laura screamed. Brooklyn did as she was told and took off down the road, looking for somewhere she could hide. Laura was about to run off for her costume when she noticed the gigantic lizard was chasing a teenage girl. Boom cursed under her breathe. She wouldn't be able to get her suit on and save whoever that was in time. Harvey could. She thought bitterly. Laura, in full civilian garb, dashed forwards toward the extinct beast. She grabbed Eva by the waste moments before the monstrosity chomped down on the girl and carried her to the end of the block. "Get out of here." Laura ordered quickly. She took off back to her apartment and tossed on her suit at super speed before exiting via the fire escape and heading back toward the action.

As the monstrous beast’s mandibles cracked open from underneath it’s mass of tentacles, just not more than ten minutes ago a thief had made off with cash from the First Bank Of Lost Haven cackling to himself and yelling to the Officers giving chase. “THIS IS SNOT; YOUR YEAR!! HAHAAH. YOU FOLLS WILL NEVER STOP - THE FLU MASTER!!” He ran down the streets plastering the path behind him with mucus blasters as a string of snot dangled from his nose and would continue to do so for some time. As it were he chose to run down the alleyways of the city and unfortunately this had him crossing paths with the tentacled abomination that towered over buildings causing him to stop dead in his tracks while his lower lip quivered in absolute fear. His knees shook - his grip loosened allowing the heavy bags of cash to crash to the concrete.

“Oh dear.” He said just as the beast turned its head to meet his gaze. Without a word he immediately began dashing in the opposite direction his feet struggling to gain their footing on the slick snow covered ground. Eva charged into the beast cursing this Merlin as she began to slash at its hind legs as the Villain ran back into the main street only to be greeted by a handful of Police Officers their jaws agape upon seeing the creature rear its head upwards. “What are you doing fools! Get me out of here! Arrest me! Let us leave this instant!!” Flu Master screamed while he still had the chance, the Officers nodded as one called his superiors while the rest rushed to secure the scene and lead the bank robber away in cuffs.

Boom appeared on the scene once more, striking the T-Rex's leg with all the force and momentum she'd built up by running from one side of the city to the other. The dinosaur staggered at the power of the blow, letting out a terrifying roar noting its pain and anger. Boom glanced over at the sword-wielding hero, who turned out to be the girl she'd rescued minutes earlier. "Is everyone in is damn city a cape?!" The speedster began running around the Tyrannosaurus's legs, striking at them with thousands of rapid kicks and punches. The creature struck at her multiple times but lacked the speed and coordination to land any of its attacks. In its frustration the reptile turned to Eva once more and attempted to bite her in half. "Look out!" Boom warned. Suddenly and without warning, the ground shook beneath their feet. It was a familiar feeling for Laura; something she had come to recognize since the defeat of Umbraxis.

Thunderbolt was coming.

[Dedonus]

Kelly Brown | Samantha "Sammy" Kadowsky | Zac Wilson

Map

Just like many of the schools and universities around the country, Albany State College also decided to cancel classes in the wake of the possibility of a dome that could transform everyone into metahumans. While everyone was advised only to go outside if it was utterly necessary, especially once the 48-hour deadline for when this event is supposed to happen draws near, some people still went about their own business. Some even still had to report to work.

On that afternoon, Zac, along with Kelly and Sammy, decided to head out towards the Crossgates Mall, a local shopping center that was located in a suburb, Westmere, that was right on the edge of the Albany city limits. There was only so much any individual could do at home before cabin fever began to set in. And this trio had already reached that threshold.

Once they were at Crossgates, the metahuman trio wandered through the mall, seeing which stores remained open in the face of what might happen in less than 48 hours and which ones decided to close up shop just as a safety precaution. Even the people watching was significantly more interesting. Some people were going about their days as if the televised message that was forcedly aired on national television had never happened, while others clearly showed signs of cracking under the presser of what might come.

After they had wandered around for a little and did some people watching as they walked through the mall, the three young metahumans entered into the Macy’s department store that was located at one of the far ends of the Crossgates mall. Again, they wandered around the store, perusing through the merchandise that was on display. Eventually, some swimsuits caught Kelly’s eye. Even though it was still winter, March was still around the corner and that meant spring.

“Hey, Sammy. Spring break is just a few weeks away. What do you think of any of these?” Kelly picked up one of the swimsuits from a nearby store hanging rack and suspended it in front of her best friend.

“I don’t know.” Sammy scratched the back of her head as she examined the swimsuit, “Unless you want me to get arrested, I probably will be condemned to wear one-piece swimsuits for the rest of my life. Oh, the tragedy of cat girl problem!”

“What?” Zac’s face was covered with an expression of confusion. “You know what, knowing what ‘girl problems’ are, I probably don’t want to know what you mean.”

“Don’t worry, Zac. I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Kelly gave her boyfriend a coy smile and a thumbs up as she still held the swimsuit.

“Although,” Sammy continued, ignoring the little exchange between Kelly and Zac, “there might be a way to wear a bikini without getting arrested. However, I don’t know where to find them.”

“Maybe lingerie stories might have them? There’s a Victoria’s Secret nearby Best Buy and a Soma Intimates by JC Penney.”

“There is a Walmart just across the street.” Zac added to the conversation, although he still did not quite know what exactly what they were talking about. “Walmart has almost anything.”

Kelly whipped out her cell phone and began to furiously type something into the portable device. A smile immediately arose on her face.

“Holy crap! Walmart does have them!” However, that smile on her face disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared after Kelly had read the fine print. Kelly gave out a disappointed sigh before she gave the bad news. “Never mind. They’re only available on online orders. At least we know that we can order them online from somewhere if we can’t find them here.”

Now that that awkward conversation had concluded, or at least awkward for Zac, the three metahumans exited from the Macy’s department store. Before they went any deeper into the mall, Kelly stopped and turned to her boyfriend.

“If you don’t want to come with me and Sammy, you can stay here at the Dick’s over there and I’ll text you when we’re ready to leave.”

Zac peered over towards the entrance to the Dick’s Sporting Goods store that was located just after a right turn after exiting Macy’s. This was his last way out of having to go with the two girls while they look for whatever they’re after. If he declined it, there would not be another opportunity.

“I guess I’ll see you two in a couple minutes.” Zac responded as he walked towards the Dick’s Sporting Goods store.

[VATROU]

With the arrival of the Speedster known as Boom Merlin scoffed as she whisked away Eva from the battle as Arthur questioned her methods. “This is your plan. To have Eva fight a monster? This helps her how exactly.”

“It doesn’t not really, if times were different I needn't resort to such extremes but the girl must be ready must be tested. She’ll master Excalibur and become a swordmaster..” For a moment Merlin pauses considering all that it would take to fight on equal footing to those Eva would soon face. “No. To become a Weapons Martial Artist Master perhaps. She’ll need more than Excalibur but it will become her strength for what is to come. This was to be her stage to confront her anger and fear this other hero was unexpected.”

Arthur considers her words, it would seem that while Merlin’s methods may be dangerous questionable even they share the same goal.”Once her trial here is complete we must begin to seek out other artifacts of power.”

“Agreed.” Merlin said as Eva returned to the fray dogging the tentacled whips from the creature. As she once more ran closer to slash at the beat her arms holding the sword in a false guard pointed towards the ground behind her ready to block or parry; the Speedster returned thunderously as snow and debris from turned over garbage cans blew by in her wake. Eva watched her smash into the beast and as it staggered in pain while the Speedster unleashed multiple attacks and evaded with ease any and all attempts by the creature to retaliate it had decided to go after easier prey.

“Okay. Easy Tentacled Dinosaur thing, no one has to be anyone’s dinner..” It’s mandibles snapped open and it sunk its head into the ground where Eva was standing. For a second there was silence until that is the beast recoiled white goo dripping all over the ground while it oozed out from the wound its tentacles contracted as they wriggled on the street it’s mandibles fell into the snow blasting the powder into the air. Quickly the goo dripping from the open wounds solidified and new tentacles formed as the creature started to regenerate.

“That’s really gross. Like super really gross.” Eva said just realizing the ground itself was trembling under her feet and it wasn’t from the beast in front of her.

[Raptorman]

At first as Elaine awakened, slowly stirring to consciousness she was uncertain of her surroundings. She was in a bed, a real bed, and for just a moment she allowed herself to think that maybe all of this nightmare had been a dream. The disaster with the hero, the trip to the containment center, the encounter with Nightmare. But then as the sleep stopped fogging her brain she realized, this wasn't her bed, and this certainly wasn't her dorm room, and with that her eyes snapped open and she sat up.

The room was dim, with the light coming mostly from a hallway as the door to the room was partly open. It was an odd place, luxurious certainly and with fine trappings. But they were eclectic, various statues lining shelves, old paintings, books of all kinds. It wasn't what she would have expected as she rose up from the bed. And if she was right then this was where she had been brought by some of the most dangerous people in the entire city.

She was starting to panic as she stood but with an effort of sheer will managed to clamp down on it. If this really was Nightmare and his followers, and they had brought her to what she could only guess was a base of theirs, then there was a decent chance the plan wasn't to kill her and going hysterical wouldn't help. With that in mind the young woman steadied herself and then stepped out of the room and into the hallway.

The door swung shut behind her and she walked down, away from the room and towards the end of the corridor before emerging into what appeared to be a living room. There were a number of thick chairs, a roaring fire in a fireplace, and a pair of people sitting in two of the chairs.

One was a man who looked like he had seen better days. He was large and powerful looking but his face was weathered and somewhat wrinkled, though not old, and his hands too looked all battered. He wore a leather coat that was patched and fraying in places and his eyes were a dark blue black that seemed to look right through her. His expression was unreadable and at first he said nothing.

The other was a woman, a woman who seemed to embody a certain form of beauty. She was regal, stunning, doll-like in her features and with long black hair that cascaded down her back. But the left side of her face seemed to be frozen in a slight frown, a strange condition that marred her appearance notably. Unlike the man her clothes were fine and in good condition and she did not seem weathered in the slightest. And it was she who spoke first as Elaine arrived. "I see our guest has woken up." A comment to which Elaine only nodded. "Welcome to our humble current dwelling. I am Soulfire, or Helen, and this is Nightmare, or Jack and it is our pleasure to have someone with your talents here."

For a moment Elaine simply stood there. This didn't sound threatening, and these people, they were the forces that were so terrifying the city? Why, they looked like normal people, just like her. "Wasn't there a third one of you before?" She said at last.

And this time it was the man who replied in a somewhat rumbling but very human voice. "The Cannibal king is out slaking his own needs tonight."

"Why am I here? I mean, I appreciate the rescue and all but why would you go out of your way to get me and bring me here? I'm a joke, I lost to Lyger."

"Yes, you did. But tell me child have you ever fought with your powers before? Have you had any experience, and before you speak I know the answer. But you have power and we offer you a chance to learn that power, to use that power, and to be free. Your life is gone now, but a new life is waiting." The woman spoke, her voice clear and sweet as she did so. "Jack thinks I'm putting too much faith in a long shot but it is my turn, and the Cannibal King would eat you but I see in you the seeds of greatness."

"You want me to join a gang of murderers?" Elaine blurted out quickly in surprise, wishing she had been able to think before she had said that, now she was surely about to pay for it.

But instead of sudden death or torture came surprisingly amiable laughter from the two. "No" Came the voice of the man. "We want you to join a group of those who are free, petty laws, pointless rules, they have no power over us. We do as we please take what we want, kill those who oppose us, or for fun, or for whatever reasons we want. But it's not just killing. We each have a turn to choose and that choice reigns. But tell me, wouldn't you wish the man who put you in that van dead, wouldn't you wish for your revenge."

"When it is your night, your will directs and imagine what we can do, what you can do to him with our guidance and aid. We welcome you. Besides someone has to wipe that smug look of old mol- the Cannibal King's face. He says no one can make the cut anymore, lets prove him wrong."

Elaine really didn't know how to take it. On one hand these were the monsters, on the other, her life was in ruins, that damned lyger had done this to her, and she did hate him, she did want revenge, in a single few moments he had stolen her life from her, and if these were the monsters, they really didn't seem all that bad, they were people and they were offering her a place. "You'll need a name" Came the woman's voice again to cut through her thoughts and Elaine finally replied. "Yes, I will." And then as she took on her new place she smiled, a smile that let some of the anger and rage she felt at her situation show through, a smile that the other two monsters in the room returned.

[fdeviant]

1 Year Before Current Posts

Dark clouds gathered in the sky above Marie’s rural home in Boston, Massachusetts, coating the once bright blue canvas in a thick layer of darkness. Today was the day of Marie’s move to Maine; was this a sign of things to come, an omen of ill tidings in her new home? Marie shrugged off the thought. She couldn’t allow herself to make excuses, not this time. No, this was different, she needed this move, the new sights and smells, the new challenges and opportunities. For twenty years she had been forced to capture the same scenery through an unwavering lens, but that nostalgic filter that once slid over her eyes had begun to lose its touch. Mental photos were now developed with fewer hues, over saturation, no contrast; living at home was becoming a chore for Marie, one she was ready to abandon. Marie packed her final bag and stuffed it into her car, a worn out Expedition with far less space than one might imagine, paint beginning to chip off the doors and hood, and a faulty taillight that might not get her pulled over on the way. She hugged her parents, who were happy to see their reclusive daughter finally going out into the world, and began the four hour drive to Lost Haven, Maine.

The dark clouds looming overhead finally let go their sorrows as Marie made her way into the urban streets of Boston, making the Bostonian populace even more angry and the roads more turbulent. Traffic alone would add an hour to Marie’s drive. She rolled her eyes and turned on the radio, no station in particular, just some ambient noise to make the whole experience slightly less painful. A sudden news broadcast detailing a string of brutal murders in Lost Haven aired. Marie turned up the volume and listened in disbelief to the horrendous actions of a madman called “Nightmare.” It sent a shiver down her spine, making her question her decision.

Why am I doing this, she thought, Lost Haven’s got to be the closest place to Hell on Earth right about now, why am I making myself do this?

The more she pondered, the clearer it became. Marie had stumbled into power. She unknowingly befriended an ancient being that liked to hand out gifts to those he deemed worthy, but what made her worthy of such a gift? Bucca certainly didn’t care what she did with his gifts, they were hers to do with as she pleased, but perhaps the voices that she heard on occasion, the shadows that spoke to her in the realm between consciousness and sleep, were His. Perhaps he was amusing himself with the choices that Marie had made.

Marie’s thoughts were interrupted by several loud noises, honking come from other cars. Lost in thought, she had been stalling at a green light, holding up traffic. She quickly waved away her philosophical pondering and continued along towards Lost Haven, saying aloud to herself, as if in response to her thoughts, “I have a chance to make things right, to take part in whatever chaos is unfolding in Lost Haven and put an end to the people’s suffering. Rural communities have always needed the Cunning Folk, so I’ll be the city’s Cunning Woman, their white witch so to speak.” With that, she made the rest of her trip in silence, listening only to the sounds of the road and the tapping of rain on her windshield.

[fdeviant]

1 Year Before Current Posts

After about a five hour drive, without stopping, Marie finally made her way into Lost Haven, her head slightly clearer than when she began her trip. From her glove compartment, she took out a note with the address of her apartment complex and her apartment number. The complex was neat with cottage-style architecture and plenty of foliage covering all sides of the building. Marie pulled into the parking lot behind the complex and made her way to the her apartment on the second floor. She walked up the stairs, noting the lack of a service elevator for any potentially handicapped residents, and through the door to the apartment.

It was a medium-sized studio apartment with just enough space for one and a half people. Furniture had already been moved in according to Marie’s specifications, the kitchen space was surprisingly larger than she had previously thought, and the walls were thick enough to where the noisy neighbors wouldn’t be too much of a problem. It wasn’t perfect, but for $450 a month, and in the city, she would take what she could get. Plus, there was a nice view from her window of a large public garden across the street.

Marie sat down on her sofa, rather, she plopped down and lay there for several moments, dreading moving up all of her belongings. She felt herself beginning to drift off into sleep when she was brought back by the shrill ring of her cell phone. “Madalena Hawthorne” the screen read. Marie had completely forgotten to give her a call once she reached Lost Haven. Madalena owned an occult shop in Lost Haven about a mile from Marie’s apartment. She found Madalena’s shop while searching for job offers in Lost Haven on Craigslist. “Shadow of the Moon,” the name of the place, was just opening and needed employees. It was miraculous that Marie was able to find a hiring occult shop in her new home, and so close to her apartment.

Marie answered the call, “Hello?”

“Hey Marie!” Madalena greeted her warmly, “Did you make it to Lost Haven alright?”

“Um, yeah. I got caught in traffic a few times but not problems other than that. I just pulled into my apartment complex.”

“Oh, let me help you move in, I’m at the shop right now so it’ll only take a second.”

“Uh . . . That’s alright,” Marie responded. She had spoken to Madalena over the phone a few times, but her happy-go-lucky, helpful demeanor made Marie nervous. She was awful at being social and she certainly didn’t want to inconvenience her new employer. “You don’t have to do th-”

“It’s fine!” Madalena interrupted, “I’m headed that way anyhow.”

“Alright then, sure.” Marie said uncomfortably.

“Great, see you in a bit!” Madalena said as she hung up.

Marie put her phone away and shot downstairs to begin moving the boxes herself. She didn’t want Madalena to think she was an incompetent worker or that she was a freeloader, nor did she really want to converse with her outside the workplace. She started with the heaviest boxes, carrying them as quickly they would allow through the front door, up the stairs, and into her apartment. She had moved three boxes when she noticed another car pulling into the parking lot. Sure enough, out stepped the curvy, pale, wild beauty that was Madalena Hawthorne. As soon as she spotted Marie, she fast-walked over and gave her a big hug, which Marie awkwardly returned.

“So good to finally meet you!” She said with enthusiasm.

Marie gave a half smile and returned the compliment. “Y-you too.”

Madalena turned to face Marie’s Expedition. “This your car?” She asked. Marie only nodded. “Well, let’s a get a move on.” Madalena almost sprinted over to the car and began grabbing as many boxes as she could carry.

Marie looked at her in astonishment, “Y-you really don’t have to carry that much. . .”

Madalena shook her head as she came barrelling past, “I don’t mind, plus I don’t like to make more than two trips. Where’s your apartment?”

Marie grabbed a couple of boxes and led Madalena to her apartment on the second floor. The two made a few trips back and forth until finally all of the boxes were inside.

“Whew,” Madalena sighed, “Now that that’s done we can start unboxing.”

“No,” Marie protested, “I can take care of that.”

“Nonsense, you’re gonna be unpacking boxes at the shop for me every week so you might as well work me like a slave driver while you’ve got the chance.”

Marie chuckled. She hadn’t had many friends growing up despite having multiple opportunities to make them. She decided that if she were going to push herself to become more open in Lost Haven, that meant opening herself up to more people, well, a few people. She nodded at Madalena and allowed her to start removing items from boxes and place them in random places around the apartment. To Marie’s surprise, she had an eye for decoration and didn’t once relocate any of the items Madalena had placed.

The two chatted while they unboxed, Madalena commenting and complimenting Marie’s collection of witchy goods. “You’ve got everything, huh? Valerie Worth, Gemma Gary, Paul Huson, Gospel of the Witches, Aleister Crowley, Cornelius Agrippa . . . is this the Goetia?”

Marie nodded and smiled, “I started practicing when I was young so my book collection grew pretty quickly.”

Madalena chuckled as she continued to pull out spellbook after spellbook, old tomes and scrolls on topics ranging from Middle Eastern alchemical practices to ancient Roman defixiones. “You’re the real deal aren’t you?”

Marie gave her a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“Well, most of the witches I know don’t have anything like this. Gerald Gardner and Raymond Buckland line their shelves, but you’ve got shit I’ve never even heard of.” Madalena gives her a devilish smile. “So what’s your story, hm? You a dragon slaying sorceress of yore? You come from a magical bloodline and this is your family’s collection? OH! You’re actually a ten thousand year old witch goddess come to rewrite the world as we know it?”

Marie laughed and shook her head, “No, nothing like that. It’s . . . it’s just a hobby.”

Madalena scoffed, “Right, well most people go fishing on the weekend as their hobby or build toy cars, not curse farmlands on their time off or have tea with Satan on their Tuesdays.”

“Speaking of which, I can’t work Tuesday. Satan and I are going bowling.” Marie joked, allowing herself to open up and have a good time for the first time in ages. The two laughed as they finished unboxing, chatting and joking back and forth for the next hour or more.

“So there’s this great Chinese place a few blocks over, wanna check it out?”

Marie smiled and almost objected, but pushed herself to say, “Sure, I’m starving.”

They continued their chat as they walked over to the restaurant, Marie smiling, laughing, and thinking to herself, Maybe Lost Haven won’t be so bad.

[FacePunch]

Somewhere in Lost Haven
Sometime later

For the briefest moment a bright blue flash of light blinded everyone on the street. The first thing they was the Tyrannosaurus Rex being thrown off its feet and flying a good twenty meters, landing on its back in the middle of the street with a tremendous crash. Thunderbolt came to a skidding halt next to the monster. Smoke rose from the black scorch marks created where Harvey had attempted to stop himself. Thunderbolt looked over to Boom. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to run on ice?" He complained. "I would've been here sooner, but-" Boom cut him off. "Stop talking and attack." The two speedsters ran towards the fallen beast, striking at its exposed underside in an attempt to keep it off balance. It was clear after about two seconds and nine thousand punches that this wasn't working. "It's like boxing an aircraft carrier." Thunderbolt groaned, holding his knuckles. Boom rolled her eyes.

"Will you stop treating everything like a joke?! This thing is dangerous!"

"That's a dinosaur with tentacles for a face. How is this not a joke?"

The beast's tail whipped around and struck the arguing heroes and knocked them off their feet and into the nearby apartment building. Boom luckily flew in through a window; the wounds she received from the shattered glass were minor and wouldn't take her healing factor more than a handful of moments to repair. Thunderbolt, however, was not so fortunate. He was sent through a load bearing brick wall and the momentum carried him through two consecutive rooms. The speedster let out a low groan when he rolled to a stop, covered in dust and bruises. The bruises slowly disappeared as Harvey struggled to his feet only to slip in a puddle of water from the shattered toilet behind him and go tumbling back to the ground, hitting his head on the sink on his way. "FU-" He was about to shout before he noticed the small child who had appeared to check on him, and promptly decided to use more classy language. "FUUUUdge monkeysss." He hissed awkwardly.

"You okay mister?" The little boy asked. "Thunderbolt. Name's Thunderbolt." The speedster rasped as he carefully stood back up. "And yeah, I'm fine. Well- I'll be fine in a couple of minutes." The child cocked his head in confusion. "I never heard of you before." He said in broken English. "Are you a bad guy? Momma says I shouldn't talk to super villains." Thunderbolt chuckled, making his way out of the hole he'd arrived in. "I'm one of the good ones. Hey, I need you to do something important for me. Can you do that?" The child nodded his head quickly. "Take your family and neighbors and get outta here. Come on, go." The speedster turned away as the child ran off to get his family. Harvey leaped out of the apartment and landed with a thud on the street below.

He examined the situation at hand. Boom and Eva were already back to fighting the dinosaur, which had regained its footing and was back on the offensive. There were a number of police officers keeping civilians at a fair distance from the fight. What Thunderbolt needed was some way to tip the balance of this fight in their favor. He scanned the entire block in a milisecond. A smile lit up the hero's face when he noticed the hardware store on the corner. He dashed inside and grabbed a pair of propane tanks, a gas can and a lighter. Thunderbolt sprinted across the street and left the two propane tanks on top of the creature's head (this was a simple task, considering how little the T-Rex appeared to be moving at this speed.) before covering the two tanks in gasoline and lighting it. Thunderbolt ran down the side of the lizard's leg and grabbed Eva, dragging her away from the danger zone. Boom followed and a moment later the tentacled monstrosity's head was at the epicenter of a huge explosion and its body was now engulfed in fire.

"I doubt that put it down. We're going to need to coordinate our next attack. Any ideas?" Boom asked, looking directly at Eva. "I'm Thunderbolt, by the way. And this is Boom. She's my sister. _{I'm totally available.}"

[The Fair Lady]

I have felt many things.

I have seen so much sickness.

But never had I felt one like this.

I had first been too busy to pay it much heed. It had been a faint corruption that lingered in the background as I went about my work. It had felt distant, as if it was not actually on the World and I let it be. I know now that it was a mistake. I have felt its sickening presence upon the World. Threads have been torn asunder and its taint has seeped into what had been healthy ground. Even the sickness that had brought the new horde of parasites had not felt this virulent, had not torn the threads asunder in such a destructive fashion. The cancer and the parasites were slow, they brought a long death. This sickness was different and it needed to be stopped.

My senses open wide, to the full expanses they can reach. I look beyond the World and its myriad threads, I look beyond the cancer and the parasites, and I feel shock. It is vast, a cloud of corruption of malevolent threads bound together much as the World is. This is no mere sickness, this is a scourge, a plague and it has already began to infect the World. Though I hate to do it I wound the World, passing from place to place, each spot upon the World where this new sickness has began to infect, each place that I can feel its taint gnawing at the threads.

And in each place I uproot it, calling to the World and ripping away the corrupted portions. They are strange and I cannot heal them, only destroy them. I do not have the time for caution or consideration as I move, revealing myself to the people for the first time in the months since the last new sickness appeared. In the city I leave behind renewed buildings and structures, each thread I destroy being remade in turn, for while the World is sick and the parasites swarm there are still many to save and I would not see them suffer.

I have traced it back, uprooting the sickness from each place where it had infected the World. Now it is time to excise the true heart of the sickness. Now that I have seen it I cannot unsee it, the vile corruption that hangs above the World. It has brought sickness and death to the World, and now I will bring the World's vengeance upon the invader. I gather myself in the place where the infection first landed. My eyes close and my wings curl around my body as I prepare for what I know will be a great struggle.

Then after a long moment I open them again and spread my wings once more. A ripple of change sweeps out from me to pass throughout the park where the infection had first landed. At first nothing seems to have changed, and then, I raise my arms and the World shakes. Another long second passes and then it happens. The ground erupts and as I stand upon it soars into the air. I continue to shape the World as a curtain of air forms a cordon around the mile sized piece of earth. And then I change the earth as well. It melts and shifts with my will, the molecular structure changing in a very specific way within the massive sphere of air.

I guide it up through the World's atmosphere and then past it towards the greatest concentration of the sickness that I can sense.

I am a healer.

Yet I must destroy.

Why is this my fate?

[NeutralNexus]

The merc patiently listened as the young man, now introducing himself as ‘Angel’, began to open up to him. It became increasingly clear by Angel’s words that he wanted to be a tool of justice, a man who would clean the streets of crime and violence, to bring peace to the city of Lost Haven, and other cities if he could by any means necessary.

But that was what Angel wanted, not what he was. Now being able to see the man without robots or explosions, Trent could see Angel as just a man trying to do right in the world with the powers he was given. That idea hit caused Trent some inner turmoil, something he had not felt in years. He knew of men and women, goody two-shoes who believed that what they were doing was right all the time, citing the written law as a moral compass, regardless of its wording. Those people Trent shrugged off, they were naive morons with a one-sided opinions in his mind, idiots with nothing but the law guiding them like lemmings.

This was a different, he had rarely met someone who doubted his resolve in such a way, and he knew he was not the best guide for such a question. He had always taken the path that was easy for him, he knew how to kill and fight, so he made a business out of it. He very rarely thought of the ramifications of those actions, they didn’t always concern him.

But he had to say something, especially if he did not want this man to end up like him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down, Angel. Take a few deep breaths and relax. I was not trying to stress you out with what I said, I’m just trying to keep things real with you.” He offered a casual, reassuring smile behind his mask, despite whatever confusion he was feeling inside. “The truth of the matter is that there the only person who can decide your purpose is you, pal.” Trent said bluntly, gesturing to him. “There is no ominous force that tells you what’s right and what’s wrong, no higher power holding your hand, and if there is they’re just an asshole trying to get you on their side.”

With those words, he floated up towards the cockpit, the hum of continuous kinetic emissions bringing a small reverberation to his voice, “At the end of the day, the only person you get to hold accountable is yourself. You can’t blame anyone else for the actions you take and you can’t go back and change them, no matter how much it is going to keep you awake at night.”

He chuckled, reaching out and clapping Angel on the shoulder. “But you know what? It’s okay, people make mistakes. It’s human to do so, even metahuman. We aren’t perfect beings, no matter how much we want to tell ourselves we are. We’re all going to fail on some note, but you know what? That’s just part of living and growing. You can’t learn from your mistakes if you don’t make any, and you can’t improve as a person if you don’t make those original mistakes”

He pointed at Angel with his other hand, pulling a little bit on Angel’s shoulder to try and force eye contact. “Take it from me, Angel. You have a hell of a heart, and that’s something to be friggin’ proud of. You could take those powers and do anything, you could coast for the rest of your life hacking old lady’s bank accounts and living off their credit cards until you grow old and die, but you don’t. You pick your ass up and try to save your city, damned what the law says. Are you going to screw up sometimes? Absolutely, everyone does, but it’s our actions in the face of challenge that makes us who we are, that’s part of letting your actions stand for what you believe. You don’t need this half-assed pep talk to work for it every goddamn day of your goddamn life. You know what you want to do, and you will do anything to get it. That is the one definitive thing I see when I look at you, and that’s something I see as one hell of a good thing. Just stay true to who you are and nobody will have the right to judge you for it.”

With that, he let go of Angel, floating back into the clearing. “So, with that note, it’s about time we should part ways. STRIKE is going to be after both of our asses after that jailbreak, and it’s best we don’t give them a single trail to follow. I’ll bug out and do...what I usually do to get attention, so they’ll spend all their resources tracking me down. You seem to know how to keep a low profile, falling off the grid seems like a goddamn specialty for you, so they’ll forget all about you while they come for me, so it’ll all work out.”

He drifted towards the sky, his legs beginning to hum as they built up energy. “Oh, and tell your AI buddy this one is on the house, he can keep his money. I had a hell of a lot of fun on this one, was well worth the workout. And for the record, I never beat you in that fight, you dropped a helicopter on me. If anything, that’s a tie. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again, and next time, I ain’t holding my punches, you got that? You come at me with everything you got, and I’ll make sure to do the same.”

The smirk apparent under his facemask, the last thing Angel saw of the cheeky merc was a small wave before the energy in his legs suddenly launched him into the sky, the booming sound echoing through the street.

[Dedonus]

Christopher Arthur III

It had been just a few hours since the meeting at Settler’s Clearing had adjourned. Now Chris had finally suited up, ready to track down the mercenary by the name of War-Pulse. While he knew that STRIKE probably had information about the other three metahumans whom he wanted to recruit on file, Chris was pleasantly surprised at how exact his assistant’s intelligence been. Chris made a small mental note that he needed to ask Minerva how exactly did she local War-Pulse so quickly and how she found such a precise location. But that was for another time. His attention must be on the task at hand.

From what he had gathered from the meeting, Chris understood that War-Pulse could become quite a dangerous threat if this ‘recruitment’ endeavor did not go according to plan. Although he could have inferred War-Pulse’s power level from his interaction with the mercenary from D-Day, hearing that he might even give Icon a challenge made Chris play this one safe. He decided to bring Icon, Thunderbolt, and Boom along with him, just in case things got ugly, although he hoped it wouldn’t. While he probably should have arranged for the four of them to arrive all at once, he trusted that they would be here on time. Radiance and Lyger could handle the Albany kids just fine. He needed the big guns for this particular situation.

Now that he was drawing near to the location where Minerva had designated as where War-Pulse would be, Chris could discern out in the distance a bright light floating in the sky. When the computer systems in his armor had zoomed in on the flying phenomena and analyzed it, Chris discovered that the flying light was actually a man. War-Pulse, no doubt, he assumed. Once he knew this, Chris soared forward in order to catch up with the flying mercenary. If War-Pulse had known that someone was on his tail, Chris might have been in for a little cat and mouse chase. However, since he had the element of surprise, Chris easily overtook the energy-based metahuman.

“War-Pulse, I presume.” Chris suddenly said through the speakers on his suit to the mercenary in mid-air, “I hear that you have been quite the busy man as of late. I have a little proposition for you. If you don’t want S.T.R.I.K.E. swarming this area, I would suggest that you land yourself.” Chris gestured down towards the ground as he finished speaking.

Once the two men were grounded, Chris ejected from his suit a small device, which landed in between the him and War-Pulse. Once this device landed on the ground, it began to playback the broadcasted message of the ‘mad scientist’ who was threatening to transform everyone on Earth into metahumans. There was one part of this recording that he wanted War-Pulse to see, the part where the ‘mad scientist’ claimed that his followers had stopped a terrorist form polluting the Lost Haven water system.

“I don’t know whether you have seen this, but there is kind of a situation going on now. You are probably wondering now why I have come here. The reason is that I believe that this man is referring to you when he talked about his own team of metahumans foiling a plot on the Lost Haven water supply. We need all the information we can get on what we’re up against.”

“I know that you might have done some things that you are not proud of, whoring out your skills for the highest bidder. But I also know that you are also capable of doing the right thing. I don’t think you would have helped us back on D-Day if all you cared about was the cash reward. I assume you have a sense of honor and these guys probably embarrassed you badly when they whipped you back in Lost Haven proper. We’re offering you a chance to show that you are more than just a hired gun.”

When Chris said ‘we’, he hoped that using the first-person plural would cue in his teammates to make their appearance. If they had proper timing, Icon, Thunderbolt, and Boom would all arrive at this time to emphasis Chris’ point that it was not just him giving War-Pulse a chance, but this collected group of heroes. Now the ball was in War-Pulse’s court now. How was the mercenary going to react to Chris’ proposition? He hoped that a massive superhuman battle was not going to be necessary, especially when there are bigger fish to fry, but with Icon, Thunderbolt, and Boom at his side, at least they were prepared for the worse possible scenario.

[VATROU]

As a blue streak thundered into the street the Tentacle Rex was thrown backwards impacting the ground with the force of a B42 Bomber plane. As the two Speedsters begun their assault the male one had made a wisecrack after a series of blinding punches. That’s when the beast decided to tail whip them into some nearby buildings. During this time however short it was Eva was alone fighting this monstrosity her sword cut deep into its white flesh as it roared in pain while trying to fling its tentacles towards her, Eva dodged best she could as they grazed her until the heroes returned first it was the female one as she kept it distracted then the other snatched Eva and doused the Rex in gasoline and left propane tanks to devastate the beast.

Noting that the two Speedsters had gotten away. They began to plan. Introducing themselves and subsequently hitting on her. “Bloody hell, you’re hitting on me! You’re such a Slag.” Eva looked to Boom who she was more receptive towards since she had not made a pass to her yet. “Right giant Arse aside names E.. I. Um Pendragon. Names Pendragon. Now. IF WE COULD GET ANY HELP!!” She said shouting into the air. Which was followed by silence. “Typical just when I really need it.”

A light laugh began to echo out behind her as a woman appeared out of thin air. “Oh. Help she asks and you can’t handle a mere Thorian Thrasher.”

“So you brought this here, this thing!” Another laugh was let through her lips. “Oh and I suppose you’d like to know how to defeat it wouldn’t you? Well I don’t know about that I’m finding this all rather amusing young Pendragon.”

That was when she began talking to herself, or through Eva’s eyes Arthur as it were. “I don’t see why I should help them, these Speedsters barged into where they weren’t wanted.” As Merlin stood quiet a roar boomed through the street. “Very well but you’ll owe me.” - Merlin turned to Eva and spoke unenthusiastically. “It has a gem buried in it’s body, find it destroy it, I’ve lost interest.” She said dismissively as she flipped her hand towards the beast.

As quickly as the woman appeared she was gone and Eva spoke to Arthur who was still invisible to the human eye, those besides her and those with the sight that is. “I wouldn’t trust her.. Yeah I realize that but still. Fine.” Ignoring Thunderbolt Eva spoke directly to Boom. “I’m really starting to hate her, but that’s the plan for what it matters.” Eva waited for the two to respond as she grumbled under her breath. “Really hate magic.”

[fdeviant]

10 Months Ago

Moonlight shone on the wet city streets as midnight crept over Lost Haven, her eerie glow overpowering the streetlamps and headlights. Passersby couldn’t help but gaze up into the sky at the splendid mother of night, the first full moon of the month, a powerful event that was celebrated by some circles. Few dared venture out into the darkness past the witching hour and for good reason; there was a madman on the loose, not to mention criminals from all meta, magical, and mundane walks of life, but there were those few daredevils who braved the unknown on this night, walking or driving back from the club after a few too many drinks, heading home from a late night at the office, or maybe strolling down the streets, soaking up the moonlight. Among their ranks was Marie, rather, a version of herself that Lost Haven had yet to see, one that make herself known.

Marie was awakened by the sounds of sirens rushing past her apartment. This wasn’t new, in fact in the first two months of her stay she was often startled by ambulances and police units blaring their sirens and horns at all hours of the day. It’s not that criminal activity was particularly heavy in Lost Haven, but when metahumans are ever involved in any situation, and they tended to find themselves at the center of many, it pays to be prepared. That evening, however, something felt wrong. Perhaps it was the ring around the moon that foretold of misfortune, perhaps it was the sheer number of cars and lights all rushing towards Chinatown, whatever it was, Marie couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Since coming to Lost Haven, she had been nothing but a normal citizen. Grocery shopping on the weekends, going to and from work during weekdays, having lunch with Madalena a few days a week, it was all very mundane, and escaping the overly mundane was Marie’s reason for moving to Lost Haven. She decided that tonight would be the night that she made her appearance alongside the other heroes of Lost Haven. Tonight, she would become the White Witch, although at the time, she hadn’t decided on the name. She ran over to her closet and removed the costume she had prepared from an unpacked box. She then anointed her broomstick with the transvection oils, opened her apartment window, making sure no cameras or bystanders were around, and flew out into the night, another spectacle dancing in the air alongside the silver moon.

Marie hadn’t flown in what felt like ages. She first tried physical flight at the age of 15 after reading a recipe for flying ointment in an old grimoire she’d managed to get on eBay for a fraction of what it was worth. She was a natural! Nothing felt more right, more liberating, but flight wasn’t a practical method of travel, so she’d held off until such an occasion. Her hair, dress, and cloak all flowed gracefully in the wind as she sped through the sky, over the tallest of buildings and through the narrowest alleyways. Marie waved away the enjoyment she felt, remembering that this was likely a highly serious and dangerous situation she was about to enter.

The streets of Chinatown were normally crowded, even at night they were brightly painted by the neon lights of novelty shops and restaurants, but that night the only colors were the flashing blue and red of police cars. Marie flew closer to the scene, and a scene it was. Behind a long strip of police tape lie what Marie assumed to be a body, covered by a sheet and awaiting transport in an ambulance. A few feet behind were several police officers speaking to a man in Mandarin or some other dialect. He seemed panicked and uncomfortable, screaming and pointing into a shop behind him. What happened here? Marie thought to herself as she moved around the scene, trying to escape the notice of the officers present.

Suddenly, a loud shrieking erupted from the shop, followed by the sound of smashing glass. The police moved into position around the shop ready to enter and deal with the person whom Marie assumed to be responsible for the murder. Just as they made their way through the doors, shelves and furniture were launched at them, sending them flying back into the street. A figure emerged from the shop. As it walked into the light, Marie was shocked by what she saw. There, in the streets of Chinatown stood a tall, brute of a man with scaly green skin, large, jagged teeth that erupted from his mouth, and eyes as black as night. What is he, a meta, a monster? Marie wondered as she began speeding down to the street. The police began shooting, but to no avail. The enraged creature charged through their gunfire and, with incredible strength, knocked them back into their vehicles, denting the cars and smashing the windows.

“Hey!” Marie shouted from the air, only a few feet behind the creature. He turned at looked at her with such murderous intent it made her go numb for a few seconds. She didn’t know what she intended to do now that she had his attention. She stared at him in fear for a few moments, then, as he started charging towards her, Marie waved her arm and sent the flying into a streetlamp, the sheer force of the impact causing it to break. All in attendance looked momentarily stunned, even Marie, but her trick hadn’t bested the creature, only made him angrier.

Once again the beast charged towards Marie, faster this time. She increased her altitude to evade him, then re-positioned herself behind the him. She threw out her arm, sparks leaping from her fingertips and spouting flames as they hit the street. Marie had only conjured fire small scale when lighting candles and was surprised to see how effectively she was using her powers in combat. The flames grew and formed a line, separating her from the beast. He looked stunned, This is it! Marie thought triumphantly. With another swift arm motion the flames gathered in a circle around the beast, seeming to force him into submission. Marie closed her eyes and began chanting in a chthonic tongue, each repetition aimed directly at the beast. “Now sleep,” Marie said aloud in a whisper. At first the beast fought the enchantment, but slowly he began to fade into a deep sleep. The flames receded, and there lie the sleeping beast.

A large, armored vehicle arrived at the scene, darkly clad men spilling from inside with large shackles in hand. They placed them on the creature and carried him inside, locking the back of the vehicle and leaving promptly. A few police officers and a passenger of the other vehicle called Marie over to them, but she didn’t listen. A news van had found itself closer to the scene and Marie, despite being in costume, couldn’t handle the thought of being in front of a camera or asked questions from a field reporter. She gave an awkward wave as she flew off into the night, a silhouette against the moon.

The following day, the local newspaper and a few networks ran the story of the previous night’s murder, releasing images of the creature being loaded into the armored vehicle, and Marie’s outline against the moon. A few papers called her the “White Witch of Chinatown,” which made Marie smile. “White Witch, huh?” She said aloud with an approving tone. “Guess that’s what I’ll start going by.”

[nitemare shape]

Lyger sat across from the young woman who he now knows as Radiance on the private jet of Chris Arthur III. The last place he wanted to be was on a plane heading to Albany while there was a madman threatening his city with a bomb that would turn every single person within the city, and eventually the world, into a metahuman. But instead of tracking down the madman responsible, he found himself on his way to Albany to try and recruit more metas to Arthur’s cause.

“This is ridiculous.” Lyger said, breaking the silence in the cabin of the plane.

I don’t know what to think. One minute I’m a nobody, then the next I’m smack dab in the middle of a meeting among the most powerful heroes in Lost Haven, and in some cases, the entire world. The next minute, I’m on one of Christopher Arthur’s private planes on my way to Albany to track down some more recruits. My partner on this mission, Lyger has been remarkably quiet during the entire trip, so when he finally speaks, it takes me by surprise.

“Arthur seems to think that these metas might be the key to stopping this thing, I think it’s worth a shot.” I tell him, which prompts him to give me a look that suddenly makes me wish I hadn’t opened my mouth.

“Well, uh…” I begin stammering before I pull it together. “According to the S.T.R.I.K.E. files Arthur gave us, they share an apartment not too far from the college campus at the Woodlake Apartment complex.”

“Once we’re on the ground, we need to get over there, get the metas and get back to Lost Haven. I’m not willing to put the lives of everyone in the city in the hands of STRIKE, or anyone else for that matter.” Lyger said.

“Right.” Radiance says, looking blankly at her “partner.” She doesn’t know what his deal is, but he doesn’t seem to be much of a team player, and that bothers Radiance. They are running out of time, and the only way that they can stop this looming catastrophe is to work together as a cohesive unit. “We’re a team, we’re going to get through this together.” Radiances says.

Lyger just looked over to the young woman and said nothing as the plane began its descent toward Albany.

***

“This is the place.” Radiance says as she looks at the Woodlake Apartment complex. “According to S.T.R.I.K.E. intel, this is the building.”

“Then let’s get in there and get this over with.” Lyger said as he fired a grapple line from his wrist gauntlet and ascended to the third floor, where he forced open a window and climbed inside. Radiance flew up behind him, following Lyger into the open window into and empty third floor hallway.

“It should be right up here.” Radiance says as she points up the hallway. Lyger leads the way as they go down the hallway looking for the apartment that the metas live in. “Here.” Radiance says as they get to the apartment indicated in the S.T.R.I.K.E. file.

Lyger removed a small device from his belt and moved closer to the door, inserting it into the locking mechanism. After a moment, there was a clicking sound and Lyger easily pushed open the door. Slowly, Lyger slowly stepped into the darkened apartment.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s home.” Radiance says as she follows Lyger into the apartment, and immediately feels stupid for stating the obvious. Closing the door behind her, Radiance follows Lyger into the living room.

“So, what now?” Radiance asks her companion.

“Apparently, we wait.” Lyger said as Radiance took a seat on the couch.

[Byrd Man]

Previously

MacArthur Island
South Pacific
14:14 Local Time

Metal clashed and sparks flew. Douglas MacArthur snarled as he swung low with the blade of his katana. The sword clanked against the blade of Theodore Roosevelt's and sent the general back on to his heels. The two figures moved through the shadows of MacArthur's throne room. The general's armed guards looked in impassively as their master fought for his life.

"You have more vigor than your nephew, I'll give you that," MacArthur wheezed as their duel hit a lull. "But you lack grit. That's the problem with you silver spoon types."

MacArthur charged Roosevelt. The general sliced and diced while Roosevelt parried a furious attack from the man.

"You court danger for fun and life experience," MacArthur shouted between blows. "You fight with the detached bemusement of an aristocrat. You have no idea of what it means to fight for ones life. When MacArthur was twenty-three, he killed two Filipino bushwhackers."

Roosevelt let out a cry of pain as the tip of MacArthur's blade sliced into his shoulder. His knee buckled, but he composed himself long enough to fend off another round of blows. Quickly, he scampered back away from the general.

"MacArthur did not have to raise an army with his daddy's money, MacArthur did not kill a couple of underequipped Cubans and call himself a hero. He did not use his family's influence to get a desk job in President Wilson's Navy. He fought, he led men into battle, he saw the enemy face to face."

While MacArthur prattled on in third person, Roosevelt wiped sweat from his forehead and tried to figure out his next move. He was a skilled fighter, but the general was much better with the samurai blade. His study so far had revealed one flaw in the general's form. When MacArthur swung, he always did so in a series of three. On the third swing, he continued to expose the right side of his ribcage. It would be close, but if he was quick enough he may just deal a serious blow to MacArthur.

"And MacArthur always fell short," Roosevelt said softly. "Everyone remembers Ike, Patton, and even Marshall for their skill and fighting ability. All anyone knows of MacArthur is the corncob pipe and Korea. Pomp and incompetence, that's your legacy. No amount of stars, no amount of field marshal batons, no amount of medals will make up for the fact that he tried so hard to be better than his own father... but just like his father, he was fired by the president."

MacArthur's aloof face twisted into a mask of rage. His eyes went wide and he yelled as he charged Roosevelt. Theodore held his ground and fended off the wild hacks from MacArthur's sword. When the third blow was coming, he saw his opportunity and took it. As MacArthur was swinging high, Roosevelt went low and stabbed forward with his sword. The blade pierced the general's ribcage and went up into his organs. He stopped mid-attack and stumbled backward, blood pouring from his abdomen.

Roosevelt wrenched the samurai sword from MacArthur's hand and spun around. The two armed guards who had been observers were running towards Roosevelt with their guns out. He threw both swords at them and watched as the blades buried themselves in the men's chests. They collapsed to the ground before they could even get a shot off.

"Mr. Roosevelt..."

Theodore turned and saw MacArthur on the ground. Blood pooled around his body and soaked his kimono. The general's face was pale and pasty looking. Whatever damage Roosevelt had done to his insides, it was working quickly.

"There's a gun in my kimono," he whispered. "The inside pocket. It's small, but it should be enough to put me out of my misery."

Roosevelt got on one knee and reached into the blood-soaked pocket. As he tried to find it, MacArthur's cold and clammy hands grabbed his forearms and pulled him in close.

"The truth about the Executive Branch," he whispered into Roosevelt's ear. "What I found..."

Roosevelt pulled himself back a few seconds later. He had no response to the information he had just received, or even how to process it. In his hand was a small four-shot derringer. Big enough to do the job.

"What I said was true, Mr. Roosevelt," he grunted in pain. "Every word. Maybe you can change what I could not. Now, go ahead and do what needs to be done.'

Roosevelt cocked the hammer of the derringer back and aimed for MacArthr's head. The general looked at him and nodded.

"Old soldiers never die they just fa--".

Two small gunshots from the derringer cut MacArthur off and ended his life.

----

Amelia Earhart pulled down on the control yoke and held her breath as the nuclear stealth bomber did a spinning dive towards the water. Four fighter jets followed her down into the spin. From her HUD, she was at least three different missile locks from the pursuing fighters and the two in a holding pattern above the island. It was a hard fight, but so far she had managed to evade the fighters as she got increasingly close to the island. They were currently a half mile out from the drop zone. If she could just--

A missile exploded above the diving jet and sent the craft spinning out of its planned path. Earhart looked at her HUD and attempted to right herself before the jet spun into the water. She jerked on the yoke and sent it spinning sideways. She hit the throttle and blasted up into the air, leaving the out of control fighters still free-falling. Her display informed her that two crashed into the water while the other two were still righting themselves. The hairs on the back of her neck tickled. This was it.

She increased speed and blasted towards the island drop zone. The two jets above the island broke off their holding pattern and started to chase after her, but she knew that they were too late. The jet was too fast and she was too good to let them catch up and take her down before she delivered her package above MacArthur Island.

"Thirty seconds," she said into the PA. "I'm opening the door now. When the light goes green, do you thing."

In the back of the bomber's lead lined cargo hold, the hydraulic bomb doors opened up. A rush of freezing air came roaring in with a ear-piercing howl. The passenger didn't mind the noise, and he especially didn't mind the cold. He never got cold since he was brought back to life. The things he could do, heat was his problem. The scorching heat of atomic energy.

With atomic energy pulsating from his hands, Harry S Truman adjusted his necktie and glasses. The light above his head went from green to red. He leaned forward and disappeared out the bomb doors. The roar in his ears was loud, but it was rapidly fading. Replacing it was the sound of sizzling as every cell in his body prepared to release the energy it had stored. Each cell had the energy of the original atomic bomb that devastated Hiroshima, and each cell would release that energy on impact.

From twenty-thousand feet above the earth, Harry Truman closed his eyes and prepared to unleash nuclear holocaust.

@Byrd Man

MacArthur Island
South Pacific
14:14 Local Time

A dozen of MacArthur Island's best guards were huddled together at the end of a long corridor, some standing and some crouching. They stood in front of a heavy metal door latched closed while their automatic weapons were trained on the big metal door leading into the corridor. The men traded looks at the sound of gunfire and explosions from somewhere close. The captain of the unit felt sweat beading on his forehead. There was still no word from the General after his command that they all fight to the last man to stop... whatever this unseen devil was. Three or four of the men flinched when they heard a loud crash, followed by a scream that was close by. The captain himself nearly jumped when the door at the end of the hallway bucked in its frame.

"Aim," he barked in Mandarin to the men. "Hold steady and do not fire until I give the command."

Another slam against the door bent it, another loosened it, and a final blow sent it off its hinges and slowly down the corridor towards the men. It came to a stop a few feet in front of the group.

"Hold!"

The dozen men waited and kept their weapons trained on the empty doorway and the looming darkness just through the threshold. The captain thought he saw something stir inside the dark. A half-second later, something sped through the doorway and down the corridor. The razor-sharp blade of a throwing axe caught a guard flush in the forehead and dropped him to the ground.

"FIRE!"

Something leapt from the darkness and raced down the corridor. It was big and spindly, moving much too graceful for a thing of its size. Whatever it was, it moved through the hail of bullets unharmed and tore through the guards like a buzzsaw. The captain opened fire amid the carnage and flying blood. His shots seemed to miss as the big creature ripped his unit to shreds with his killing weapon. Within seconds, the captain was left alone staring at the monster in front of him.



"I proclaim your head emancipated from your neck."

The captain screamed and began to open fire, but the blade of Abraham Lincoln's axe struck his head from his shoulder before he could finish pulling the trigger.

"The coast is clear, Doctor," Lincoln said as he shook blood off his hands.

Hsien Wu, the pudgy Chinese doctor and Lincoln's accomplice, came waddling out the doorway and looked at the carnage with wide eyes.

"Now is not the time to become squeamish," Lincoln said as he removed his throwing axe from a dead guard's forehead. He tucked the weapon back into his waistband and looked towards Wu. "The hour is getting late. We need to destroy those off-site backups and escape before this entire island is burnt to a crisp."

"It's the next room," said Wu. "A few quick keystrokes and I can destroy the hard drives."

Lincoln strode past the dead guards and threw open the metal latch locking the metal door in place. The two men stepped into a cavernous white room with servers stretching out as far as the eye could see. A large monitor the size of a house was suspended high above the servers. Lincoln looked at the sight in slight awe as Wu passed by him and hurried towards a terminal.

"This is the Khan's brain," Wu said as his fingers swiftly moved across the touch screen surface of the terminal. "For thirty years, I worked on the technology that took DNA from descendants and slowly, painstakingly created the Khan's original genetic profile and replicated his brain pattern."

Wu jumped at the sound of a loud crash. Lincoln began to swing into the servers with his axe.

"My life's work," Wu said with a hint of sorrow in his voice. "My second life's work. All going down the drain."

"I wouldn't say that doctor."

Wu and Lincoln both turned as Theodore Roosevelt burst into the room. Blood spatters covered his khaki uniform and his eyeglasses were spritzed with the crimson liquid.

"The Executive Branch could have ample use for your wonderful technology."

----

The submarine Bataan surfaced sixty miles away from MacArthur Island. The hatch flew open and Roosevelt, Lincoln, and Wu climbed on to the deck of the sub just in time to see the show. A bright light flashed on the island. A mushroom cloud blossomed over the island and sent heat and shockwaves of force rippling across the water. Even this far away, they could feel the intense heat from the atomic explosion.

"Franklin will probably want to send a bomber to the second site in China," Lincoln said as they watched. "Mr. Truman usually takes a good week to recharge after an... event."

Lincoln continued to talk, but Roosevelt wasn't listening. His thoughts were on MacArthur's last words, the ones he softly whispered to Roosevelt as he lay there dying. Those were the words that caused the already independent general to turn full rogue and abandon the Executive Branch.

"They're back," Roosevelt said to himself.

"What was that, Theodore?" Lincoln asked.

"Talking to myself," he mumbled as he started back down the sub's hatch.

They're back. MacArthur didn't elaborate who they were, he didn't need to. After the First World War tore them apart, the Timekeepers were back. "They're back," MacArthur had hissed quietly. And then he added the thing that scared Roosevelt the most. "They're inside the Executive Branch."

Theodore Roosevelt took one last look at the now destroyed facility on MacArthur Island before his gaze turned to Lincoln. He and Dr. Wu talked amongst themselves as they watched the mushroom cloud disperse over the island. They're inside the Executive Branch, Roosevelt thought to himself. But just how deep?

[Dedonus]

Kelly Brown | Samantha "Sammy" Kadowsky | Zac Wilson

“So, what now?” Zac asked aloud as Kelly and Sammy walked up the flight of stairs to their apartment door. It was already getting late out. If the university had not canceled classes during the current ‘crisis’, Kelly, as the good student she was, would probably be starting to think about retiring for the night in the next couple hours. However, since she did not have class the following day, there wasn’t a need to get a good night of sleep so that she would be fully refreshed for the coming day’s bout of classes.

“Maybe we could watch a movie here at the apartment.” Kelly proposed. She wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s arm as they continued up the stairs.

“Of course, that only begs another question. What movie? Maybe a chick flick. You would just love that, wouldn’t you, Zac?” Sammy interjected into the conversation, jabbing him in his side with her elbow. “Maybe a RomCom would be right up your alley.”

“Very funny, Sammy. Why can’t we find some middle ground and watch something that we all would enjoy?”

“Then what do you suggest, Zac?”

“Maybe I will…right after we get inside.” Zac countered as he walked up to the apartment door and placed his key into the door lock. However, when he inserted his key into the lock, he was surprised when he discovered that the door was already unlocked. He immediately turned his head towards his girlfriend and then to Sammy. Even without counting Sammy, both Zac and Kelly had already seen their fair share of kidnappings and ambushes. They did not want to walk knowingly into one again.

After they checked that no one else was nearby, Zac and Kelly swiftly deactivated their power-nullifying wristbands and used the ‘costume change’ function on that device so that they could be ready in seconds. Sammy sighed in jealousy. Even though she did not need a wristband for negating her ‘cat-girl’ appearance, since the power-nullifiers only negated powers that were caused by the serum that gave Zac and Kelly their powers, she still thought that being able to switch immediately into their superhero costumes was quite convenient. Who wouldn’t?

The three young metahumans calmly and slowly entered into Zac and Kelly’s apartment, making sure that they would be prepared for any type of trap. They took their time moving through entrance hallway in their apartment. Zac and Kelly took a quick peek around the corner to see if anyone was in their living room. They discovered that two people were sitting on their couch, as if they were waiting for them to get back, a man and a woman. The woman was dressed in a red and black body-suit with thigh-high red boots, although they did not have heels, which would have made them impractical for superheroics. She only covered up her face with a black domino mask, unlike the man beside her, who was covered from head to foot with a black, cat-themed costume.

“I think they saw us.” Zac whispered to Kelly when they pulled their head back from the corner.

“I don’t know. Wouldn’t they have said something by now?” Kelly replied with her voice lowered.

“Guys, I didn’t get a look!” Sammy butted into their conversation. She immediately tried to poke her head around the corner, but Zac and Kelly grabbed her and pulled her back. However, they knew that she was able to get a glance because she had her hands placed over her mouth and her eyes were wide open.

“Oh. My. God.” Sammy began to say out load, although it was not directly at Zac or Kelly. “There is a cat-boy sitting in your living room.” She then turned her head towards Kelly and removed her hands from her own face. “Can I keep him?”

“Sammy, he just broke into our apartment. Plus, you don’t know whether he’s single. For all we know, the girl sitting next to him is his girlfriend.”

“Please!” Sammy gave her best friend the best puppy eyes that she could make. Kelly, just sighed, not knowing what she was going to do with Sammy.

Meanwhile, Zac went back to the edge of the wall that separate the entrance space of their apartment from the dining and living rooms and addressed the two trespassers, who were sitting on their couch. “I don’t know who you two are, but tell us why you’re here or we’ll call the cops!”

[nitemare shape]

Lyger watched as the three young metas made their way through the apartment in a panic. He knew that this was not the best way to recruit someone for this mission, or any mission for that matter, however they were running low on time. He didn’t know what these three could bring to the table, but so far he wasn’t impressed. They were sloppy, and were really lousy at being stealthy. But Arthur thought that they could help, and Icon vouched for them, so he was willing to give it a shot. However, from the reaction of the metas, he knew that they didn’t have much time to convince them to join the cause.

“We need to talk.” Lyger said in a low growling voice. His words hung in the air for a moment, and when nobody said anything, he continued. “I’m sure that you’ve heard about the situation in Lost Haven. We need your help to stop it.”

“What my friend means to say is…” Radiance cut in, her tone much more inviting. “We have reason to believe that you’ve…dealt with these people before.”

“In West Virginia.” Lyger cut back in. “I’m not going to sugar coat it, we believe that these terrorists are one and the same. They are planning to unleash a weapon that will turn every single person in Lost Haven, and then the world into a meta human, and we need your help to stop them.”

"We're sorry for barging in like this." Radiance started, looking over to Lyger. "Well, I'm sorry for barging in like this, but we really need your help." She finished, not able to get a read on the three surprised metas.

"Icon said that he thought you might be able to help." She added, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible. "But Lyger's right about one thing, we don't have much time."