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

[Shard]

New York City

Demonic Whispers

Accounting for the changes, it was safe to say that the thought of normalcy was a concept Milo had left behind when he stepped onto the train for New York a few days back. It was true what they said about the big city, about its highly supernatural underground community. Perhaps community was the wrong word to use in describing New York's denizens of darkness, but as it was, Milo found himself within their world only days after arriving. Darkness calls to those it would like to claim, as it was. Tracing his fingers over the barely visible marks scratched into the wall, the boy found himself asking the question of why in a repeated fashion.

The constant dripping of a leaking pipe added to an eerie atmosphere made thicker by a heavy scent fogging the long since abandoned subway. It was safe to say that no one in their right mind frequented such a location, other than the homeless and those of less savory ilk. As it was, Milo was in short supply of decent spots to sleep, thus an old, abandoned subway fit the criteria. It was quiet, empty and most of all, it was somewhat safe. In the future, one could consider erecting a hideout in one of the distant corners of this underworld. Perhaps safe was misplaced, however. Indeed, it was safe from the mundane world but one should not toss aside the darkness of New York so casually. Beneath the tumbling city above, beneath the heavily trampled ground resided denizens Lost Haven could only dream of.

One such path to the abyss was carved into the stone wall. Milo ran his thin fingers over the markings, feeling the etched surface against his skin as it was barely visible to one's eyes. This was the third such etching he had come across so far. What did it mean? It could have been nothing but a boy's imagination, though Milo felt more than a little uncomfortable in the presence of these carvings. It was what brought him towards them, what lured him from the bench he called a bed for the past few days. Indeed, there was a story behind these symbols but where did it lead, how did it sound when words reached a person's lips? Turning to the more experienced individual in the duo, Milo found himself indulging in Masamune's wisdom more than once throughout his search. "Looks like cult symbols." Shedding light on the mystery at hand, Masamune shared what he knew but it was a stretch to assume his knowledge on the mystery so early on.

"So then these might be wards..." Milo continued, his assumption holding merit within the odd sensation running through his body upon coming in contact with the symbol. Though faint and old, the energy within remained a remnant of ancient magic, be it drained and weak at this point.

"Well done, Milo! There's some wits in the noggin' of yours after all." A loud chuckle filled the boys head, earning Masamune a sigh and roll of Milo's eyes. The blade was a tease to say the least, its witty remarks often at the expense of its master. Though, Milo didn't mind much as the lighthearted personality accompanying him on his travels shed some light on an otherwise dark situation. "This means that the little cult following should be close by. You know, if they haven't packed up and left."

"Worth a look..." The boy finished, following the stone wall as he continued through the dark tunnel. Would this subway still be in use, many trains would come and ago across the rusty rails but as it was, one could traverse the ruined path without such obstacles. The heavy atmosphere and dust particles freely flowing through the damp air made it rather difficult to breathe as Milo delved deeper into the darkness but the occasional light bulb, though flickering and dim, allowed for limited vision.

"So, how do you like New York so far, kid?" One could argue that this was no time for casual conversations, though Masamune had proven such assumptions wrong time and time again.

"Big..." Larger than Lost Haven, Milo had never been much for enormous cities. The people, the stirring, the endless days, it was like living in constant rush hour. Of course, some parts of the city had their charm but Milo didn't come to take in the sights. Ten minutes turned to thirty and Milo found himself deeper into the darkness, the air growing heavier with each step. It would be foolish to dismiss the continued feeling of eerie discomfort accompanying the darkness, though at this point it was safe to assume magical intervention.

Something was stirring in the dark, something which could never reach the surface lest many lives be lost in its wake. Indeed, Masamune made sure to warn Milo of the dangers ahead, but it didn't hinder the boy's progress. He had come to New York to combat these beings, the denizens of the dark, and something did indeed stir within the confines of this underworld. Like ominous whispers, Milo found himself drawn deeper into the abyss in an attempt to uncover the veil to see what resided below.

[Dedonus]

Chris had been glued to the television screen that had been playing Doctor Diplodoc’s televised broadcast. He hoped that there would be something that could clue him in on how they could disperse the domes. Even though the domes were expanding extremely slowly and were becoming less dense as a finite amount of material spreads out to cover a greater space, the domes would nevertheless affect countless people before the domes become so thin that the mutagenic effect would be harmless to humans. Chris kept hearing the same words spoken by Doctor Diplodoc, pondering on whether anything the scientist had said could be useful.

Then it hit him. Chris realized that this Doctor Diplodoc mentioned that he had a contingency plan set in place for preventing criminals in the countless prisons and jails from obtaining powers via the metadomes. Somehow, whatever device that the good doctor had planted in these facilities, they would prevent these certain individuals from being granted these gifts. Maybe somehow it could get rid of the domes.

Since Team 1 seemed to have a firm handle on its objective, Chris decided that it would be safe for him to head out to Tartartus Island, where one of Lost Haven’s prisons were located. Although Team 2 seemed to have run into a little trouble, if Team 1 could defeat Diplodoc’s allies, they could go and apprehend the good doctor.

“Guys,” Chris said into his earpiece that was connected to those worn by the other heroes. “I might have a lead on getting rid of these darn domes. Also, Icon, be ready to fly back. I might have a job for you”

---

Doctor Diplodoc sat in his chair, peering at the multiple monitors that stood in front of him. Although he had underestimated the number of heroes that would rally against him, he still had a back-up plan. Before the heroes arrived, he had the Silver Sorceress cast a spell that, if released from the bottle that it had been contained in, would act like a second wind for his allies. Diplodoc’s allies would either receive a boost of energy or regain consciousness if they had been knocked out.

He reached out and picked up the enchanted bottle. When he pulled off the bottle’s lid, a blue colored gas billowed up, hanging above him. After it lingered there for a couple minutes, the magically-enchanted cloud darted out of the room and headed towards his allies. First, it passed by where Effigy was located. Since Doctor Diplodoc did not want this spell to blow Effigy’s cover, the Silver Sorceress designated the spell to affect both Effigy and the person whom Effigy was mimicking.

Then, the cloud passed over the second team, leaving them bewildered about what had just happened. The enchantment zoomed away until it arrived in the room where the large battle was being fought. It first reenergized both Jaws and Sumac, the Silver Sorceress’ sister, who were the only two villains still standing. With this second wind, Jaws’ barrage of punches flew all the faster at Lyger and Bast, whom he had been engaged with ever since he switched targets with Black Widow. Once it was finished with Jaws and Sumac, the charm then restored Black Widow and the Silver Sorceress from being unconscious.

Black Widow was the first to leap back into the fray, engaging with the two speedsters, as was her task before Radiance decided to fry the drider. Meanwhile, the Silver Sorceress received different orders from their leader, Doctor Diplodoc.

“Begin our endgame.” He calmly spoke into her ear piece.

“I don’t know why we did not start with this spell.” The Silver Sorceress retorted at the doctor’s commands.

“Because our endgame hinges on more than just your magic, Victoria.”

The Silver Sorceress then turned to her sister. Without anything besides a nod being exchanged between the two sisters, they knew what they needed to do. Since this spell would put her sister in a vulnerable state, Sumac had to stand by to provide her with support. The silver-clad woman held her hands close together as she whispered her magical words into her palms. Suddenly, all the light within her vicinity began to rush into the small space between her hands. While the room began to dim, a sphere of light began to form between the sorceress’ hands. Soon, the entire area would be shrouded in darkness, except for the light being emitted by the ball that the Silver Sorceress held.

[Nytefall]

Jacob was trying his best to concentrate on what Gabriel was saying but it wasn’t easy. His body was slowly liquefying and the seat in the car he was sitting on was already soaked with water. As they made their way through the city he felt the car suddenly pick up speed.

”Jesus! Doctor you realise that keeping my bo-” Jacob was able to say no more as the Gabriel hit the accelerator. His body instantly dispersed with a loud splash of water against the chair. He tried to pull himself back together but Gabriel’s driving was too erratic and fast giving him no change to fully reform himself. He was able to clearly hear Gabriel now that he wasn’t focusing on keeping himself together. His voice echoed from the emanated from the chair, how he was able to do this mystified Jacob but it was only some of the mysteries that surrounded his abilities.

”Well I’m happy to join in. Haven’t been part of a good fight since I left New York. So count me in. Oh and don’t worry about me the moment you stop the car I’ll reform myself. I may be a professor and a man of science but don’t think of me as weak. I’m at my strongest when I’m near large bodies of water but even like this I can deal with most threats.”

His head was poking out the seat and looking at Gabriel as he spoke. His skin was translucent and blueish making him look like some kind of slime monster from anime. The car finally slowed down as they reached their destination then with a sudden jolt the car stopped Gabriel hitting the brakes hard.

”Listen Doctor I didn’t want you really getting involved in this but as it is, you’re involved whether you like it or not!”

Jacob nodded at him silently as his body reformed from the seat of the car. His hero disguise already forming on his body he looked at Gabriel with a look of sheer determination and said.

”Call me Hydro. Now let’s go save this Rachel person!”

[fdeviant]

Natural Selection Arc

Joseph Mathers Vs. The Archon of the Old Earth

_{@fdeviant & @DearTrickster}

---

The Archon of the Old Earth turned its back on their ally, the human standing before them had a filthy iron ring on his hand. Repulsed by the very presense of it such displays of blantent disrespect were to be rectified. The Archon could already smell old knowledge all over the boy.

Joseph held an arm up to sheild his nose from the horrible stench of the Archon. Never before had he seen such a creature, not since his first meeting with Bucca. He turned to Holt, hoping that his Otherworldly knowledge might give some insight as to their oponent, but to no avail. Joseph had no interest in fighting a faery, nor was he sure that he had the means to do so; he just wanted some information.

With his free hand, Joseph made a sign that meant to halt the Archon. "Wait!" he shouted. It was difficult to make out any normal expressions on the Archon's face, but Joseph could tell that it was annoyed at his presence. "I just want to know what's happening here, nothing more. There's no need for violence."

The Archon slowed to stand within a few feet of Joseph, their black lips partially moving speaking in Common Fey. "You bring iron into my presense. A transgression that cannot be forgiven, human."

It's antlers began to glow while the light from the surrounding area seemed to be dimmed in real time, "You reek of old knowledge. It is an opportunity I will not let pass to gorge upon."

Joseph looked at the Archon with confusion. It made sounds unlike anything he'd heard, a strange combination of otherworldly phrases mixed with both gutteral shifts and light, bell-like tinkling. He was entirely unfamiliar the language of the Fey, but Holt knew the Archon's words.

"They're pissed about your iron ring and they know you're a witch, an old one at that. It's not likely that we'll just walk out of here now." Holt presented the information quickly and without emotion. Joseph moved back a few steps, readying himself. Perhaps he was the one who wasn't prepared. Marie had taken down beings similar to the Archon and flown on her merry way, but Joseph's battles had always been fought at a distance.

He shook his head and waved away his self-doubt. There was no point in analyzing the situation now, he was out of options. If there was anything Joseph knew, it was how to counter magic, and his iron ring would be an invaluable tool in his coming battle with a faery creature. He turned to Holt, who moved closer to Joseph. They were as ready as they'd ever be.

The glow intensified along the antlers the vines and moss seemingly coming to life the smell of decay doubling in intensity. Mold grew in thick sporus blankets across the Archon's right arm. Within a heartbeat their arm shot out at Joseph covered from the tips of their long dirty nails to the top of their shoulder in spores meaning to envelope the witch to steal his memories.

Connecting with the unintended target of the shadowy Holt, did the spores immediately bloom in succession across his chest. Holt had sprung into action putting himself between the Archon and his master. The Archon thrummed with irritation then a noise of content oozed as it absorbed some of Holt's earliest memories of meeting Joseph centuries ago.

The Archon's appetite only increased at the small sample from Holt, they would surely dine finely on the memories of a witch as old as Joseph.

Holt squirmed while in the Archon's grasp, eventually leaving his physical form behind and flying safely from the clutches of his mold. He felt parts of him being sapped away by the Archon's touch and didn't dare let them take hold of Joseph, lest they use his knowledge to their advantage.

"Holt," Joseph called to his familiar. "Are you alright?"

"Worry about yourself," Holt called back with a harsh tone, "and don't let this guy touch you."

Joseph nodded. He looked around, hoping to find something he could use to his advantage. His powers were not like Marie's, he couldn't invoke great feats from nowhere, he needed a catalyst, some supernatural aid, and unfortunately, the heat of battle was not the best time to scavange for supplies. Joseph searched his mind, the stress clouding his internal grimoire. He could think of nothing with the threat of the Archon's touch looming over him. He would have to issue commands to Holt while searching for an appropriate spell or charm.

"Holt," he called out once more, "stir the winds and scorch the earth!" Holt nodded, his body fading even more as he moved about the underpass, his every motion drawing a strong, sharp wind to combat the Archon's mold. So too did he tred upon the earth in a line between the Archon and Joseph, his every step searing a black mark into the ground and sprouting flames. The fire spread to the surrounding area with the aid of the wind, and all were closing in on the Archon.

Gutteral hisses escaped the Archon watching the flames, raising their hoofed leg it stomped the ground light emitting in the cracks of the ground where it's hoof stomped creating an opening for the Archon to escape the circle of fire. Long strides brought it safely outside of the circle slamming both of their fists down into the ground it rippled with green light faery rings of mushrooms surrounded the Archon meaning to protect itself from the fire. The Archon's head lifted spotting a tree from the other side of the underpass. Magic glowed around the tree as if coming to life the roots pulled up from the ground freeing itself to come to the will of the Archon. Other trees followed suit around it.

The trees shuddered from side to side unbalanced on roots crawling forward under the command of the Archon entering the underpass scrapping their way past the cement ceiling. Roots lashed out toward Joseph with intentions to trap him.

Holt moved quickly, placing himself between Joseph and the small army of tree beasts. Their roots wrapped around his ghosly figure, grabbing at something that wasn't there. He touched the trees with an infernal claw, but the magic that held them together dissipated his flames.

"Joseph," he called, distracting the trees that encroached upon them, "the ring, do something with the ring!" As he fended off what few of them he could, others made their way past, threatening Joseph with their gnarled roots.

Joseph had since shaken off the initial fear of combat and was now ready to contribute. A pouch of rowan ash was still fastened around his waste, and he was still gripping tightly the hawthorn blasting rod he'd used to enchant the ring. He would use what few components he had to construct a Sator Square and use the faery warding magic of the ring in conjunction.

Without hesitation, Joseph opened the pouch, took a fistful of ash and cast it on the ground. He then began the chant:

S A T O R
A R E P O
T E N E T
O P E R A
R O T A S

As he spoke, the ash on the ground burned away the grass and formed the incanted words, searing them into the ground where he stood. The iron ring began to glow, reacting to the warding effects of the Sator Square. Suddenly, a thin film of wispy, white light began to encircle Joseph, the words formed by his spell appearing also on the iron ring. He had built a powerful ward, one that would halt most magical attacks and one that could cut through faery magic, but he had placed himself at a slight disadvantage. The Sator Square would also weaken his powers, so he would need to rely on commands given to Holt.

A stray root suddenly passed through Holt's body and sought Joseph. As soon as it touched the air around him, it recoiled in pain, the wood burning away and leaving behind a scorched nub.

The Archon hissed again digging it's hands deeper into the ground willing the roots to press on throwing their full weight against the ward Joseph erected. The air became rife with the hazy smoke of burning wood. Walls were built to be torn down, the Archon's power could if given the time outlast a human's. The pesky ring however was the key to Joseph's resistance.

The Archon pulled back their hands from the ground realizing the need to change tact, while the trees hammered against the ward's walls. The Archon turned to Holt, the familiar physically protecting his master. Muttering past it's black lips was a spell to change the composition of the Archon's spores. They naturally exuded the siphoning magic it took to take memories from mortals and faeries alike. In cases such as these the Archon had decided to remove Holt's protection by taking the one thing he needed most to help. His magic.

The antlers lit again the spores lifting and floating carelessly between the thrashing roots with express purpose to latch onto Holt's entity once more.

Spores passed through Holt's form, but their powers allowed them to stick to it nevertheless. Holt, perhaps for the first time in his existence, felt pain. His body began to fade as the spores sapped his power. He was a familiar spirit, a being of magic and supernatural power. The Archon's spores would not only weaken Holt if allowed to persist, they would destroy him.

Holt wasn't sure if death was a possibility for a familiar, but he wasn't keen to find out. Knowing that Joseph's ward could hold out against the roots, he moved and allowed the tree beasts to beat against his magical walls in vain. His body, the black smoke that contributed to his obscure visage, was dissipating even faster as the spores drained his power. He launched himself at the Archon, body becoming engulfed in flames in the hopes of both destroying the magical spores and harming the Archon . . . both in vain.

The spores absorbed his mystical fire and the Archon's circle of mushrooms blocked Holt's path. It seemed to be the end for him.

"Holt," Joseph shouted over the sound of roots striking against his ward, "you're dismissed!"

Holt turned back and looked at him in horror. If Joseph dismissed him, if he traveled beyond the veil and returned to the Otherworld, he would be leaving Joseph vulnerable. He had absolute faith in his wards, but he also knew that the Archon was an old and powerful foe who had both the means and the desire to destroy Joseph.

"Joseph, think about this," Holt called back to his master weakly. "If I leave, you'll be on your own."

"I know, but if you stay, I'll lose you. Better that I should join you in the Otherworld today than one day be there without you." He was choking up, but now wasn't the time to be emotional, he had a job to do. He called out once more. "Holt, you're dismissed!"

With a loud shriek and a swirl of dark light, Holt's smoky black form curled in on itself, passing from this world into the Other, leaving behind the spores as well as his master. Joseph turned his head, he'd never dismissed Holt before. The two had worked together on everything for the past three centuries, empowering one another, but for this battle, Joseph would need to rely on his knowledge and his alone.

The Archon felt a shiver of satisfaction at tasting the familiar's magic absorbing every morsal greedily until he disappeared from Earth's plane. The Archon's full attention was squarely set on Joseph now. Spores still lingering in the area about the Archon, covering their hands in spores like a pair of ovenmits the Archon approached the warded sphere pushing with strength. Dirt and cement pushed up on the edges of the sphere the smell of burning mold mixed with the scent of burning wood. The roots still thrashed against the walls while the Archon locked eyes with the witch.

"Men know nothing of what true magic can do."

Spores were burning as the Archon pushed but more were readily there to replace and keep the Archon's hands protected.

Joseph took the opportunity to reach beyond the ward and, with his ringed hand, touched what parts of the Archon were visible. Spores latched onto him as he did so, but the magic of his iron ring burned them away, glowing firecly as it connected with the Archon's skin.

Not a second before the Archon could recoil with disgust the iron touched their arm and even with less than a second of contact the iron's poison took vicious hold on the faerie. Green metalic lines raced through their skin the Archon's grip released immedaitely against the ward clutching at their arm. A low roar rumbled against the walls of the underpass taking an angry and powerful swipe at the ward sending the sphere and it's inhabitant flung through the wall of now stilled roots to land outside the underpass.

Vomit sprung from the Archon's ghastly lips spilling down their chest. The Archon fell to their knees the roar sending shivers down anyone in the vicinity. The metalic lines of poison spread visibly up their arm and to their heart. The Archon bowed their head feeling their body give out against the pain. They collapsed with a shuddering thud into the ground breathing raspy and pained.

Odette had rounded the corner of the ambulance having watched the scene of the Archon being poisoned. A gasp of genuine horror escaped her while she ran to the Archon to ensure their survival. Bach kept his distance terrifed at the sight of iron poisoning. Too afraid to help.

She pulled apart her purse fishing out a ginger root snapping it in her hands she forced slices of it down past the Archon's mouth. She had always been prepared and knew of the root's nullifying effects against iron. When the Archon's pained cries slowed to harsh breathing she knew a being as powerful as the Archon couldn't die by iron alone. "My dear friend we shall take good care of you. Thank you."

Rage burned through the cores of her irises knowing deep in her marrow how the intruder would dearly pay in kind. Her priorities still set firmly on taking Racheli away she would need to move the Archon as well afterwards back to their own realm.

Meanwhile, just beyond the underpass on a small hill overlooking a clearing, Joseph stirred. His ward protected him from the Archon's touch, but the force with which he was thrown had made him sore. He could just make out the figure of Odette walking up to the Archon, but he wasn't worried. With the Archon's down and their spores taken care of, he was free to summon Holt once more and find out more about the scene he had stumbled upon under the bridge.

Joseph climbed the small hill and called for Holt, but he didn't answer. In fact, Joseph could hear nothing, see nothing other than a white fog that had now encased him. He tried to speak, but he could not. Was this more faery magic? Surely his ring would have cut through it. From beyond the fog came a dark figure whom he had hoped was Holt coming to explain things, but it was not. To Joseph's horror, the thing that appeared before him was not a familiar spirit, nor a faery, but another manner of spirit entirely.

Before Joseph stood a being coated in shadows, disappointment, and coarse dirt, an apparition most foul: his father, Increase Mather.

[Shard]

New York City

Demonic Whispers

The thick, endless darkness drowned the subway tracks in a more than natural manner. It was ominous, as if shadowy tendrils reaching from forgotten corners of the world, wrapping themselves around Milo in an attempt to pull him in. Each step added weight to the next, making it incredibly difficult to traverse the darkness effectively. Though the air grew heavier, a certain chill crept through the darkness and spared no time before it traveled down the boy's spine. Fear, it was an emotion Milo had not gotten well acquainted with in the past, an emotion mainly erased during his bionic creation. Though, only a fool would venture into strangling darkness without an aura of terror clinging close. "Something's up ahead, be careful."

It did not require a spirit sword to sense the presence lingering within the blackness. One thing was growing all the more obvious, something sending icicles through Milo's blood like a blizzard embracing nightmares. A gulp slid down his throat, the boy's heartbeat accelerating by the second.

As he venture deeper, the concept of sound became foreign to the boy as nothing could be heard apart from his own, desperate breaths. What kind of otherworldly entity could warp reality in such a manner? Though the heating sun resided above ground, it felt like countless ice cold needles sunk themselves into Milo's skin.

Struggling through the predicaments, the boy would finally reach a larger rune inscribed into the wall. Rubble and debris laid scattered upon the ruined tracks and it was clear that no one had been here for years on end. "I think we were wrong..." Milo spoke, hugging himself in an attempt to keep his exposed arms from succumbing to the cold.

Yeah." Masamune responded, his voice turning to a more serious note. "Those runes were never meant to keep people out, Milo."

"They are keeping something in..." At this point, only a fool would press on. The chilling winds were nearly intolerable, and the darkness was stealing every single breath it could manage, but Milo had not come this far only to turn back. Summoning Masamune's flawless edge, the boy stabbed it through the stone wall, piercing the rune and shattered the magic binding whatever resided beyond. Of course, the act was one of recklessness but as the seals were weakening, there was no telling when the entity beyond would shatter their binds and break free.

In response to Milo's action, a hidden path was revealed. The stone wall allowed for a small part to lift and move, allowing entry to a large set of stairs leading down into the abyss. The cold was gone and rather replaced by a moment of scorching heat. Such immediate differences in temperature was a shocking change but at this point, one should not be surprised by the supernatural outcomes taking place in the old, forgotten subway.

"Woah! How did you know that would work, kid?"

"I didn't..." Milo returned, swallowing his fears as he took a step down the stairs. Stabbing a magic sword through a magic barrier was however something most would attempt in the pursuit of breaking a seal. Their weakened state certainly helped the dispelling.

"You're just improvising all the way, aren't you?" There was honestly little else one could do in a situation such as this. Milo could barely see two feet in front of himself.

Pretty much..." The boy finished, gripping his blade tightly as he descended the seemingly endless amount of stairs. Though fear continued to grip him tightly, the heat was subsiding and only continued to do so as he got more and more used to its touch. However, upon reaching the bottom, Milo found himself in a large room framed by thick stone walls. In the middle one could clearly see a pentagram drawn in what appeared to be long since dried blood. That was however not what stuck out, not by a long shot.

Heavy iron shackles bound the entity within, wrapping themselves around its limbs and forced it to the ground. However, as it was, the chains were corroded and decomposing. They would not hold for much longer and such was apparent when the beast within the pentagram broke free from their confines.

"That scent..." It began, a rumbling voice shaking the very earth below its feet. "The scent of sweat and fear filling the air like perfume blanketing the very wastes of hell. Such a delight." Wide eyes stared at the beast now stretching its hulking body, tearing itself loose from the chains. A demon, a demon had been sealed away beneath New York city and had now freed itself from the seals no longer capable of holding it down.

Large, horrible claws donned the creature's thick fingers, tremendous fangs residing within its mouth. Hell fire streamed through the demon's body, as if veins pumping blood through its frame. Truly, an astonishing sight, Milo found himself speechless in the presence of this horror, his hands quickly finding home on Masamune's hilt. Taking a step back, he felt the sweat dripping from his forehead as his entire body trembled in response to the threat facing him. "Ah, such a small little creature, you are." The demon continued, reaching its hand forth and utterly destroyed the pentagram keeping the demon within. "And you ooze the intoxicating scent of fear. How exciting! It's been too long."

"Milo!" Masamune pierced the doubts. "You can't let that thing out of here! We have to kill it, now!"

"Yeah..." Clenching his teeth, the boy's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. Fears be damned, he could not let this thing free. Milo wanted bigger fry after leaving Lost Haven. He got a whole menu.

[DearTrickster]

Natural Selection Arc

_{banner credit to Hellis}

---

The Underpass – Lost Haven, Maine

The Ambassador bristled with anger, tension crackling around her. Bach’s own fear of iron was quickly overshadowed by the intensity of emotion Odette was exuding. Her hands fluttered above the Archon, she spoke Words of Power for a levitation spell. The Archon’s hulking body lifted from the ground seamlessly by a few feet.

Odette felt the trap trigger and Joseph was now ensnared. It was a consolation prize for now but she fully intended for Joseph to suffer the consequences for crossing her and harming one of her ally’s. He was incredibly lucky she had other priorities.

“I am taking Racheli now. Our intruder is caught up in one my traps, I was beginning to wonder why I had set them at all.” Odette huffed returning to Lekh the Archon floating behind her, they still made low rumbles of pain.

“I will be opening a portal to transport Racheli safely away. This process takes complete concentration; it should only take me a few minutes to do it five minutes tops. Then we shall be in the clear. When the exchange is complete I will find you to repay you in kind with what we have previously discussed.” Odette promised gazing at Lekh.

Bach was at her side sadly regarding the Archon of the Old Earth. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to survive such a potent magical artifact the way the Archon did. Bach’s face a mask of empathy then returned to Odette’s side whispering in her ear, “I will protect the Archon while you work, My Lady. No one shall stop us today.”

Odette walked up to a pillar of the underpass smoothing her hand over the rough concrete centering her concentration on calming her thoughts, clearing her mind. Her eyes closed her pink lips spoke rapid fire French; she called for the Arcane Stream to open for her to show her it’s vulnerable cracks.

A magical blue light outlined her body, her bright blue hair raising off the back of her neck and underneath her jacket the faint outline of her tattoo on her back glowed through the fabric. Her brow creased as her hands floated away from the pillar and rose above her head with open palms. Her voice rose every time she repeated her calls to the Arcane Stream. Light split down the center of the pillar, a rip in the Arcane Stream starting to form. Unbeknownst to her, Racheli’s allies were on their way to throw another wrench in their plans. The precious few minutes ran on the clock for Racheli, threatening to take her further away from safety than ever before.

[VATROU]

Bellagio Ballroom/Las Vegas/Present Day

The luxurious Bellagio, a resort and casino seated on the Vegas Strip, welcomed the the chill of night like an old friend, its grand glow piercing through the dark shroud like a beacon, drawing in all manner of sinful folk. The outside was littered with limousines and luxury cars, all carrying men and women of great import. For one night, the Bellagio would house the largest collection of witches, criminals, and supernatural beings that the U.S. had ever seen, all gathered to enjoy an ancient festival given a modern mask. Inside, Hekate and the heads of each of the Five Families gathered in secret behind the stage of the Bellagio Ballroom, whose length was overtaken by beautifully chaotic arrangements of tables and red foliage, and whose walls were lined with golden and crimson designs.

”I must say,” spoke Hekate to her companions, “You lot have outdone yourselves! Never before have I witnessed such splendor. Five hundred witches, a plethora of faeries, imps, and strange creatures in mortal dress, and soon, a family of criminals, along with their leader.”

“And we owe it all to you, Lydia.” replied the elderly Syrenna Rowen, a gambling queen, renowned socialite, and head of the Rowen line, the first family of cradle witches to hold a seat in Las Vegas. “Had you not brought we five together, I fear we would have been destroyed by our lessers.”

Hekate smiled and hugged the old witch, ”My friend, you give me too much credit. I did nothing but show you a vision of one possible future, one that I’m sure you had all seen. Your treaties and peace meetings were your own doing; I had no hand in bringing you together, honestly.” She shook her head as each of the five accused her of too much modesty, and of this perhaps she was guilty. Afterall, the Five Families had been warring with one another for the past three decades, each new generation caught up in the old’s drama. When Hekate came to Vegas two years ago under the guise of Lydia Valis, she brought with her a vision of the future, one where the five united could take control of the city’s underworld. When they saw this, the warring ceased, but another obstacle stood in their way.

“When shall he arrive?” asked Roman Adessi, owner of a local chain of Italian restaurants and head of the Dianic Cult, a group of witches dedicated to the Roman Goddess, Diana, and practitioners of stregheria. He spoke of the mob boss, Barron Vanderbilt.

”Soon enough,” Hekate replied. Her meeting with Barron a few days prior had gone well and he seemed cooperative enough. She invited him to the night’s festivities as a show of good faith and as a means of bringing he and the families closer together. The witches could not hope to rule Vegas with him in their way, so either they work together as equals, offering the other protection and favor, or they end him.

”Come now, let us entertain our other guests.” The company of six appeared from the behind the curtains of the stage and spread out into the crowd of people already in attendance. Hekate stalked the doors of the ballroom, waiting for Barron and his crew.

The last few hours of preparation for Barron was exciting, he knew he was in a balancing act between two major realms, that could easily tip one way or the other. His thoughts were of dominating the world and all it entailed. Magical or otherwise and to do this he’d need to strengthen all of his connections and resources available. Carol wore a midnight blue pinstripe trousers with a light blue dress shirt and a vest that wrapped around her waist a darker blue that merged the two color schemes together with a white thick dividing line connecting the two parts down the middle. All with a matching Fedora. Barron’s was a bit more simpler. An all white suit with white vest and black dress shirt with a pair of black and white two toned shoes and of course a matching tie and hat. He would stand out more than he should in a crowd of magical whatnots.

As their car pulled up a Mercedes-Benz 1935 Special Roadster restored and in prime condition Barron stepped out his various golden rings touching the exterior door as it opened on it’s hinge he strode over quickly to Carol’s side and took her arm as she stepped out tossing the keys to an Employee of the Bellagio waiting nearby. “Take care of it. She’s the WIfes’.” He said as they made their way inside.

Barron checked in they were expecting him as the Diviner pointed him towards where Mrs. Valis was entertaining some other party goers Barron walked up with Carol in tow. “Fancy Digs, might need a room modeled after this place. But before that, this is my Wife Carol.”

“Pleasure Mrs. Valis.”

“And I happen to have something for you as well.” Reaching for a manila envelope he held it out for her. “Just a little video of Saint James. I’m sure the Families will be happy to hear the matter is dealt with.”

Hekate took the envelope in one hand, passing it to a nearing waiter to take upstairs. ”A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Vanderbilt, and we shall delight ourselves with this footage later this evening.” She waved over another waiter with a tray of drinks, taking one for herself and offering the others to the Vanderbilts. ”I’m pleased that the two of you were able to attend. I trust there have been no complications to your evening thus far?”

“The only complications were with her wardrobe. I wasn’t sure whether to complement her or revenge her as she was deciding upon what to wear.” Barron laughed jokingly as Carol rolled her eyes. “But no. No complications thus far our evening is just getting started. We should start making the rounds I’d like to meet Roman Adessi; his restaurants serve amazing food yet I still haven’t met him in person. And I’m sure there are other Celebrities attending in person.” He said with a hint of excitement.

“Don’t be too excited dear. “

“But it’s like meeting Dead Domino or Vera Keyes in person. Ah times long past of another lifetime. Still I’m sure we should meet with the other Families, Mrs. Valis if you would introduce us.”

”Of course, right this way.” Hekate lead the Vanderbilts through the crowd, making a path to the front of the ballroom. She looked over the crowd for the heads of the Five Families, who quickly filed to the front once they saw who had arrived. One by one, the five of them gathered around Hekate, eager to meet their newest ally.

”Mr. And Mrs. Vanderbilt, may I present to you the heads of the Five Families of Las Vegas.” Hekate motioned to each of them, stepping forward as they were introduced. ”Syrenna Rowen, head of the Rowen line, the oldest family of witches in Nevada; Roman Adessi, head of the Dianic Cult, loyal followers of the goddess, Diana; Aaron Wright, head of the local Cultus Sabbati; Cassandra Loyal, head of the Hekatean Cult, a group devoted to the goddess, Hekate; and Genevieve Lachance, head of the Lachance line.” Each of the Five bowed as they stepped forward, all powerful, Old World witches of great influence.

Hekate motioned to the Vanderbilts. ”And may I present to you five Barron and Carol Vanderbilt. Mr. Vanderbilt owns the Gomorrah hotel and casino and has supplied your families with all they have needed for some time now.”

Barron and Carol followed along eagerly in tow with Barron being more visually excited about meeting real life Celebrities, a wide infectious smile streaked across his face until all the Five Families made their way to the forefront of the Ballroom. Where Mrs. Valis introduced them one by one Carol nudged his shoulder. “You’re doing it again dear.” She said referring to his elated enthusiasm. “You’re worked up again and it’s showing.” Carol said in her attempt to remind her Husband of their current company.

Shrugging it off Barron greeted them. “Sorry. I get practically giddy when meeting Celebrities. Mr. Adessi I love your restaurants and a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Rowen. A pleasure to meet you all, now I’m sure you’ve all heard about what happened recently and I’ve given Mrs. Valis some. Materials to go over with everyone here in a more. Private space.”

The five of them perked up. When Hekate told them of Saint James’s capture, they were all relieved.

“Can we watch it now, Lydia?” asked the youngest of the five, Cassandra. Hekate held her in special regard being that she represented her cult. Hellenic witches were hard to find in the U.S. “I long to see what torture the bastard was made to endure.” The others nodded and shared a similar sentiment.

”Alright, I suppose we can have our pleasures before business. If you’ll all follow me.” Hekate led all of them behind the stage once more, taking a small spiral staircase up to an office upstairs. Inside was a projector and a white screen. She set everything up, removing a disc from the manila folder that had been set on the desk by a waiter and inserting it into an adjacent computer. If the computer and projector hadn’t already been linked up, she would have no idea how to do so herself. Over a thousand years alive, millennia of magical secrets, and she could barely work a computer. Once everything was in place, she had Cassandra turn everything on.

The disk played as Carol and Barron Vanderbilt took their seats offering a seat to his wife first before he took his own. With a vile grin he speaks. “Hope you all ain’t squeamish. I went old school, Prometheus Old School.” As the tape played Saint James lay bound to a table. “See at this point I’d already gone through the boring stuff, he’d been trying to run a protection racket among the lower Witches and Mages anyone he thought he could intimidate easily enough. He didn’t like hearing no so he decided to be a little rough. Well all know how that went down so here comes the juicy parts.”

The tape played on with Barron stepping into the camera’s field of vision Saint James was otherwise naked save a few strips of cloth covering his groin his face had been beaten and bloody, his jaw cracked. But Barron stood there his back facing the camera as his Blood Manipulation magic began to slice into Saint James’ flesh ripping open a cavity that would have killed any normal man, due to the work of Barron’s Blood magic his blood kept flowing and his brain was kept from going into shock essentially keeping a dead man alive to endure hellish torment. The blood Barron was using formed eyes and teeth and a demonic head as it tore out the insides bit by bit first the minor organs through the agony Saint James howled out in pain as Barron tore out more important organs one after another all the while forcing him to live through being torn apart organs tossed violently and haphazardly across the room blood splattering the walls and even the lens of the camera as a cloth momentarily wipes it away with Barron still ripping the man apart. His smile cracked from cheek to cheek as wide as it would go before all that kept the man alive was Barron and his magic pumping through his veins whilst he held the man’s still beating heart between his fingers before shoving it down James’ throat embedding it into his esophagus.

Barron stepped back after the affair which took place for nearly an hour, it took a moment for the beating heart to finally stop as his magic dissipated and Saint James died looking like he had been feasted upon by wild wolves. Stopping in front of the camera Barron spoke.”Get someone to clean this filth off my walls.” Before walking out of the camera's’ view.

The six witches sat silently for a while after the tape had ended, a few of them holding down bile. Even Hekate, who was no stranger to massacre, was almost sickened by what she had just witnessed . . . almost. Were the Five Families really prepared to do business with this man? He held a power the likes of which they had scarcely seen before, marking him as not only a political and physical threat, but a mystical one as well.

It seemed that the only grin in the room was Barron’s, for the witches, all of whom had unleashed other horrors in the past, were unfamiliar with the arts of physical torture. Hekate, however, took on Barron’s giddiness. He had revealed to them, to all six of his greatest potential allies/enemies, his powers. Perhaps not his trump card nor the full extent of those powers, but a glimpse that Hekate could use to her advantage. She sensed something sinister within him when they first crossed paths, but now that she had seen his gifts, she could protect the families against them if need be.

She turned off the projector, stood up, and faced Barron. ”I must say, Mr. Vanderbilt, that was quite a display. I think I speak for all in attendance that none of us were prepared for such brute and mystical force, but you have demonstrated that you truly are a force to be reckoned with, and you have not only our gratitude, but respect.” The others recovered from their daze and nodded in agreement.

“A lesson needed to be taught, his corpse had already been dropped off at one of his Gang’s Hangouts. And I’m sure it’s making waves among those who would dare consider disrupting the balance. It may have been more than a little uncomfortable for the esteemed Five Families to witness but it was necessary. I will not be undermined by a small time thug whose only concern is mere destruction of the Community that he resides in.”

Carol had been seemingly unaffected in her husband's display of ultra violence and rises. “We wish to strengthen our ties with the Mystical Realm, to offer our services anywhere they be needed and ensure the prosperity it’s people deserve. We all stand to gain a mutually beneficial relationship between us, and of course a rise in all of our profit margins.”

“I think what my wife is saying is that you help us we help you. Things have been escalating as of recent days. Meta Humans will soon rise to become the dominant power if we are not united in our endeavors.”

Hekate gave a wicked smiled. So that’s his plan, is it? She was in tune with his emotions, his ecstatic body language. Behind the coolness of his voice and his brutish posture, there lie an even more powerful demon, one with a desire to rule.

”Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt,” she addressed the couple in a deep, sultry voice, ”contrary to our appearances, out status, and our many gifts, we are not villains. Our desires do not align with the mad scientists and evil necromancer’s of the fictional universe; we do not seek world domination. We are witches, we seek only freedom, and that is why we value you as our greatest potential asset.” Hekate walked around the room, her presence thickening the air. She still appeared as Lydia Valis, but she felt to others as Hekate.

”We have surveyed the area, taken down those whom we deem to be lesser, those who would stand in the way of our desires. But among the common rabble of sinners and gangsters, there you were, at the height of criminal activity with a hand in almost all of Vegas’s affairs. If anyone among us had a claim to the throne, it would be you, and that is highly advantageous for we six and all we represent. It is not our mission to strengthen or enlighten the magical underworld of this city, only to do as we please, when we please, and how we please. With you on the throne and us acting as your nobility, we would be free from the interference of lesser gangs, law enforcement, and all manner of mundane threats. And with us at your side, well . . . I told you that all who joined us tonight would be gifted with good fortune for the year to come. You seemed skeptical, but let me assure you that our combined magic could indeed make you the richest, most powerful man in this city, if not the entire continent.”

“We have but a few conditions,” Syrenna Rowen spoke up. “We would ask for your protection against all mundane harm. Your influence over Vegas’s overworld could insure us that.”

“And access to your strongholds and your men,” Roman Adessi interjected. “Our powers may be great enough to get us what and where we want, but they aren’t always the most subtle.”

“Let’s not forget proper compensation for offering our services.” Cassandra chimed in. Each of the five had something to add, but Hekate hushed them.

”My friends make many demands, all simple in their approach, but what would you ask of us, Mr. Vanderbilt? In exchange for the services you already provide, as well as those that are asked of you know, what would you like in return?”

Taking a stand immediately after the Five Families had made their demands Barron spoke. “I do not seek wealth, for that is merely a means to an end. Nor do I desire to rule just the mystical realm. I seek a greater game, and play a longer one. For I have seen the path man will take and lived it, I come from a world ravaged by Nuclear Fire, where all that remains is mutants and monsters. And if it takes me a thousand years before I stand at the head of the single World Nation so be it. But do not think I am incapable of conquering this world.”

Barron said as he walked to the front of the room the blank projector casting it’s light upon him as he walked by it and then stopped.

“I only expect two things from those who follow me. Respect, and Competence. Race or Creed has no importance to me. Your demands thus far will be met as well, your protection is a given but first I must grow. These new Metas being created could serve a valuable purpose to augment my already diverse forces. And the Leaders of Vegas must first fall in line. Once Vegas is securely in my pocket you will have the Freedom you seek, and my men at your backing. There will be procedures in place however to ensure they are being utilized properly and given the respect they deserve. I will not see my men become mere servants they have proven their worth and do not deserve such a fate.”

”Of course,” Hekate replied. ”We wouldn’t dream of treating any of your men with disrespect, and now that the negotiations are out of the way, shall we make it official?” The five looked at her with hesitation. They knew what she meant to do, and they weren’t happy about it.

Hekate waved a hand over the desk at the edge of the office. A large, black box formed from the shadows and appeared as a thing of complete darkness, lacking any true features. She snapped her fingers and it opened, revealing an empty inkwell, quill, and a rolled up scroll. Hekate removed these items, set them on the desk, then spoke to the scroll in a chthonic tongue. It opened, resembling a contract of sorts, laid out will all that had been offered to both parties.

Hekate turned to face the others. ”I tell you that I have scarcely used such formal documentation. I am no stranger to deals and covenants, and my word is usually enough, but I feel that such a grand partnership requires a true contract. This document is binding and neither party can break their word without severe consequences. If you are ready, prick your finger with the quill, then sign.”

Carol with not a moment to spare came up to the scroll reading it over as Barron stood beside her and let her examine it for any inconsistencies as it was her second nature.

“The Mrs. is the legal expert, not that I lack any faith but it would pevee her if I signed without letting her look it over. A happy home is a happy wife after all.” As Carol passed it to her husband Barron took the quill and stopped hovering it just in front of his finger. “Before I continue, Mrs. Valis. Which as well put together as it is - is merely a fabrication a gise for someone else. I'm a smart man. I know a fake identity when I see one. So who are you really?”

The five heads looked at Barron, some in disgust, some with great intrigue. They all knew that Lydia was something more, but for Barron to call her out . . .

Hekate only smiled. ”Very good, Mr. Vanderbilt. I imagined that after our last meeting you might try to learn more about me. I apologize for the lack of information.” She waltzed around the room, her Otherworldly essence intensifying, becoming more tangible. Lydia Valis was beginning to fade, but not entirely. ”Your assumptions are partially correct. I assure you that I am indeed Lydia Valis, for there isn’t another like her in the world. Whether or not she is a mask for who I truly am, well . . . do we not all wear masks? Believe me when I tell you that my presentation as Lydia is not to deceive or harm any of you, but if you must know who I am, then I shall tell you all.

The lights began to flicker and a heaviness descended upon them all. Hekate’s form began to shift. Her olive skin was given a divine glow, her raven curls flowed about her as if swept by a breeze, her dark clothing was replaced by more noble and mysterious garb, and she emanated a dark, wispy aura that carried her signature. She hovered just above the floor in her most ancient form.

”I am the goddess, Hekate.” her voice was both a gentle kiss and an ominous wind to all who heard it. The five heads looked upon her with awe, especially Cassandra, whose face was streaming with salty tears of joy. ”You may know me by this name and many others, but above all, I am a being of magic, a patron of sorcerers and witches both ancient and contemporary, and I have continued my reign in this world to assure that those under my domain live in harmony and gain the proper respect.”

Barron chuckled softly amused by the thought that a Goddess proper was before them. “You know, my old world didn’t have any Gods or Masters left just those willing to climb the rubble of the Old World to lay claim to whatever irradiated parcel of land their hands could hold. So I’ve grown a pair in my time, some may think of me as impertinent others - ballsy. Me, I’m confident. And that’s all you really need in this or any other world, that and near immortality.”

Barron spoke as he pricked his finger to finalize the deal set forth between them.

“I look forward to making a better world, under my rule, but without weapons of mass destruction. And Polka. I’ll be honest I don’t know how to address you now, what would the proper procedure be for showing respect to a Goddess?”

“Lydia or Ms. Valis will suffice,” Hekate replied, once again assuming the form of Lydia Valis. “My name is not as well known these days. To the ancients, I was a grand symbol. All but few of modern folk have forgotten the gods, dismissing them as legend alone. If this is the world I am to live in, one who does not truly know of magic or the gods, then I shall continue to meddle in my human form, Lydia Valis, or another should the need arise.”

Hekate gestured for the five heads to follow Barron’s lead. They each stood up, collected around the scroll, and signed in blood. She then made a gesture and her own signature appeared at the bottom of the page, or what the others could only assume was a signature, as it was written in a strange, Otherworldly script.

”One more thing, Mr. Vanderbilt. You may have your sights set on the world, but take care that you don’t get a big head. You are unfamiliar with this world’s legends, and in each of them, hubris was the downfall of men. If you wish to assume the role of a god, be wary. Before you can walk, you have to crawl.”

“I have all the time in the world, and it will fall into my hands of it’s own accord. All good things come to those who scheme.” Barron said with Carol by his side.

[Nytefall]

Hydro watched Gabriel silently. They were picking up speed quickly. Hydro’s translucent head raised out of the seat of the car looking at the concentration on Gabriel’s face. Then there was a strange sound like a light bulb exploding and the car’s engine cut out, the car itself slowly coming to a stop.

Hydro looked at Gabriel and him at Hydro. Seeing the worry in his eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm made of water I don't think anything they bring is going to hurt me."

He hadn't meant for Jacob to get involved in this but one thing had led to another and here they were. He nodded glumly. Opening the door Hydro slipped out of the car and dissolved into a puddle that moved along the ground and towards the underpass. Poking his head out he looked around at the deserted area, it smelt like a trap and the moment he reformed he found out what kind of trap it was. A snap and a spell of ozone and vines burst out of the ground wrapping around his legs then snaking their way up to his torso. The moment they began to squeeze his body broke apart splashing to the ground. Reforming away from the vine he watched them continue to try and squeeze their now escaped foe.

"Huh. That's pretty neat." Taking another step he heard the same sound before when the car engine to shut down, then all of the strength left his body and he flopped face first into the ground turning into a puddle the moment he hit the floor. Another smell of ozone and his puddled form was flung high in the air by a pillar that exploded out of the ground where he had landed, landing far away from where he previously was he was unable to move, all his strength had been sapped from him. Gathering his strength he waited for a moment then reformed himself and looked over at the field he had been able to cross.

"Well that could of gone worse." The loud noises had certainly caught someones attention, if not then he was one lucky guy.

Lekh carefully placed Racheli down on the ground, acquiescing to his magical ally's request before she was suddenly distracted by her creepy companion's injury. Apparently some sort of battle had been raging on behind the underpass while Lekh was dealing with Racheli's brief escape, and when Lekh caught onto it he was on high alert. She returned a few moments later with the Archon floating behind her, Lekh had his weapon in his hand and was looking around, expecting company at any moment.

"Very well. I will scour the area and ensure you have time to complete your task, Ms Ambassador." Lekh nodded, unsure if those would be the last words he spoke to the unusual woman, before turning on his heel and walking back to the ambulance. He jumped into the back and rummaged around, before returning with blood smeared over his forehead and a dazed expression on his face. That roughly coincided with Hydro's haphazard arrival, the sound of multiple magical traps being activated alerting Lekh to his presence even as he stumbled around the side of the ambulance and caught sight of him there. The fact that he was unharmed (at least when Silence saw him) was evidence enough that he was superhuman and here with purpose. He couldn't know what for certain, but he was a threat and had to be dealt with as such.

Sta- stay back sir, a dangerous patient has just escaped, she's contagious." Silence coughed and slipped into his American accent, his security uniform and the blood on his forehead masking his true purpose as he held one wavering hand up towards Hydro, warding him back from the scene of what looked to be extreme violence. Hydro's view of the portal, Racheli, and Odette, were neatly blocked by the structure of the vehicle, unless he could get closer, but Lekh was walking toward him with the intent of cutting him off.

Hydro saw the dazed and bloodied man approaching him from a van just ahead of him. If this man could see his face he would have been able to see the concern on his face. "Woah there buddy take it easy, you look hurt. Listen I'm a super hero a meta. You can call me Hydro. Don't walk towards me sir! I think that there might be traps around here." Hydro’s hands were raised to stop the man walking towards him.

"Right... right, I don't know what you're talking about sir, but just stay over there or go back the way you came alright? I don't want you getting sick." Lekh was happy to play this game, as long as he stalled for time and kept anyone from spotting what Odette was doing he was completing his objective without any risk.

Hydro sighed. "Alright stay where you are I'll make my way to you." Checking the ground around he mumbled to himself angrily as he made the short distance to the man with the surgical mask. As he did he heard a sharp click then the familiar smell of ozone then the ground became gloopy beneath his feet. Quick sand?! "You've got to be kidding me."

Hydro struggled as his legs sank into the water like liquid. His struggling was only making him sink further in and by the time he figured that out he was up to his knees in it. Looking at the man he raised his hand to him. "Alright umm, give me a second here."

Lekh didn't have to feign surprise when Hydro was suddenly swallowed by the floor itself. He had made some assumptions about the nature of the trap, but it was still unexpected to the criminal, who was unfamiliar with magic.

"What in the world? You said you were one of those metas didn't you, why have you sank into the floor?" Lekh maintained his position with his gun low but threatening in his right hand, his left still outstretched."Please sir, retain distance from the vehicle, I can't allow you to breach quarantine with-" he staggered slightly "out proper equipment. I am authorised to use force if necessary." Lekh looked as apologetic as possible while wearing his mask, almost pointing his weapon at the stranded man, but not quite.

"God damn it. Yes I am a Meta. I just not sure how my powers will react with quick sand." Hydro concentrated for a moment and slowly raised out of the sand the watery sand parting around him. He walked across the quick sand his trousers showing no signs of having any muck on the and pointed accusingly at the man,

"Now listen here buddy. I don't know who you're trying to fool or whose orders your following but I was told by a trustworthy source that someone has been kidnapped and that they are somewhere in this facility. Either you move out of the way or I will assume that you only wish to impede my progress."

Hydro had walked up so that he was an arm’s length from this man his masked face filled with anger.

"Sir, I have no idea what authority you claim to be, but as far as I can tell you're just a vigilante and this is a CDC security matter, if you do not get back you will be breaking the law and I am authorised to use force to prevent you contracting and spreading a potentially lethal virus. Now get back or I will shoot." The gun was levelled at Hydro's chest before he reached arm’s length as Lekh snapped out his command, his hand shaking as if from pain.

Hydro scoffed as the gun was raised at his chest. "You won’t shoot me. Besides I'm working with the CDC with a doctor that works there. How about you ey? Where's your credentials?" Hydro took another step towards him.

"Doctors don't pursue CDC transport vehicles at six o'clock in the evening, where is this CDC doctor you claim to be working with? Show me some I.D or back off, I will fire, I am within my rights sir. In response to Hydro's question he pointed to the plainly obvious CDC identification badge on the front of his CDC security uniform, which was of course completely authentic, at least without further exploration through the net.

"He's right over there." Hydro pointed over the minefield of traps at the car and at the figure of Gabriel who was surveying the area.

"Tell him to come over here and show me some I.D, and bring proper..." he paused for a moment. "bring the necessary equipment for a level two quarantine procedure, we may need his help with the patient. Until then, stay back, sir."

Hydro smacked his face with his hand. "Seems we're at an impasse so I'm just going to carry on through you as you won’t let me past. I believe in the information I was given that someone is being kidnapped over there and if you are trying to stop me then I can't be held responsible for what I do to you."

Hydro was wasting time arguing with this man and went to walk around him planning to head around the ambulance to where Gabriel had said Rachel might be.

"Think for a moment, what the hell is this about a kidnapping? Why the hell would this so-called kidnapping victim still be here? Do you want to go to jail, sir?"

"No jail can hold me buddy!" He chimed back.

Hydro wasn't bothering to listen to him anymore, ironically even if Lekh hadn't been a criminal and a kidnapper, he'd have been well within his rights as a security guard to shoot him down in the street for breaking legitimate quarantine procedure. The so-called hero was committing a crime, then again, most did. When Hydro reached ten feet from his position, he fired at the ground directly in front of him, the shot echoed sharply in the relative quiet of the underpass.

"That was a warning shot, back off immediately, the authorities will be called and you will be dealt with through the proper channels for ignoring a designated security official."

"Well your impeding me so." Hydro rushed at the man not wanting to hurt him only wanting to quickly run past him and vault over the ambulance to where he thought Rachel was.

"So be it." Returning to his original accent, Lekh fired three times in succession directly at Hydro's chest the moment he made to charge forward. He wasn't really that fast, for a meta-human, so the shots weren't difficult to make before he got anywhere near the ambulance.

Hydro was quite shocked when the man shot the gun. The bullets past through him landing in the dirt behind him. His body dripping water out of the holes they had made. He looked at the man like a parent looks like a child throwing a tantrum, "So, what did you plan to do after that then?" His chest reformed leaving no trace of any bullet holes.

Lekh took in what he was witnessing quickly, calculating what he had observed and attempting to understand what made the man work. He seemed to reform his body after being shot, but it was not like biological reformation. It was more like his body was made of a malleable substance in the first place. Physical force wasn't going to cut it in this situation, luckily for Lekh he was the perfect counter to such an individual.

"How is that possible, why are you unharmed?" Lekh asked, his gun levelled at the man's head, though he suspected it would do little even with a change of target, the man's reaction would tell him if he feared being shot in the head.

"I've been asking myself that question ever since I got these powers." Hydro made no sign of fearing the man’s weapon, in fact he seemed to only be impatience as the man continued to block his way.

"This is a fight you won’t win buddy. So scoot out of the way cuz I need to get through. Tell your superiors do what you have to do. Just say I overpowered you."

"You are making a lot of assumptions, my malleable friend." Lekh's demeanour had changed completely now, not just his accent but his entire bearing. It was evident he wasn't actually injured in any fashion. Just for good measure, he fired his gun the remaining four times to empty the clip, directly into Hydro's face, and while doing that he ran towards him, serpentine.

The man shot at his face repeatedly Hydro assumed he was trying to blind him either to escape or to attack him from a blind spot. He chuckled, it seemed to simply come from his body not from his reforming face.

I don't really need my face to see if that's what you're trying to do. It's hard to explain but I kind of see with my whole body. I don't have a 360 view of everything around me just regular 20:20 vision but I can easily change where I look from. Like a porthole in a ship."

To illustrate his point he sidestepped away from the man that approached him and held up his hand to stop him. "What's your name buddy? Oh and can you please not shoot me in the face. It's a pain in the ass re-chiselling the features on the gorgeous marble that I call my face."

Lekh wasn't in the mood to talk it seemed, as his side-step brought him back into range of the meta-human, whose speed wasn't really that impressive to the peak-human agility of Silence. He swung a right-handed back-hand with his weapon at the man's neck, aiming to drive the butt of the weapon through his head with the strength he put into the strike.

This man was fast thought Hydro , at least for a security official. He let the blow hit him his face crumpling inward splashing water onto the man. He would find that the water had become thicker and harder to move through. The gun was slowly pulled into his body where he would deposit it on the floor. He reached to grab the man who was within grasping distance, his hand enlarging to the size of a dinner plate.

As his gun was wrenched from his hand, Silence smiled beneath his mask. Water was it? That was interesting information to file away, but frankly, it did not matter. He'd achieved his aim, to get literally within the man's body, proximity by which his power would have maximum effectiveness. He unleashed his aura then, full force at point-blank range it would be debilitating in the extreme. Signals would be cut, vital signals, whatever Hydro used to control his watery body.

His hand was an inch from the man’s head when he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. His hand became numb and Hydro was unable to move it. Hydro looked groggily at his hand it had frozen solid. "What the fu-?" His hand fell to the floor and shattered into hundreds of piece.

He realised that he had bitten off more than he could chew. "Oh." Was all he was able to say as all the effort he put into keeping his body together finally was let loose. His body exploded violently. Covering Lekh with water and the surrounding area. As the last of Hydro's consciousness was scattered a puddle formed by Lekh’s feet. A single hand, shaking, formed a middle finger defiantly displaying his thoughts about Lekh.

"Damn." His voice only a whisper, barely audible.

Lekh stood over his defeated foe, picking up his soaking pistol with annoyance. He had to continue exuding his aura, not believing for a moment his watery enemy was actually dead, he would probably pull himself back together if he left the area. Quickly replacing the spent magazine he looked up and towards the Doctor that Hydro had pointed out, checking his progress through the many traps Odette had built up. He reckoned about a minute had passed, four more to go.

"Damn indeed, puddle man."

[Shard]

New York City, Belzimet's Chamber

Demonic Whispers

"Your ashes will paint the soles of my feet, boy!"- Belzimet

The heavy odor of sulfur would proceed to easily overpower the otherwise damp and dust induced air. Brightly illuminating the darkness, this foe of otherworldly proportions burned with the very touch of hell itself, the embers growing ever larger as it regained a strength previously dormant beneath an ancient verdict. "Your fear is growing." The beast spoke, its voice hinting at a masculine biology given is androgynous appearance. "Nothing soothes the heart like the intoxicating scent of humans pissing themselves in fear, their pathetic frames coated in a layer of sweat elevated by the presence of my hell fire!" In reaction to the word of inferno's flames, the demon stomped his large foot onto the ground, causing large cracks to thunder closer to Milo as the boy stood clenching his teeth as to not keel over. Masamune's resolution surely helped the feat, though this demon's imposing threats grew all the more vicious as his flames licked his stone like frame like a caressing embrace. "Belzimet! Know that name, boy, for it shall be your soul's lord and master!"

"Belzimet." Masamune repeated, his echoing voice soothing in comparison to the foe sizing the boy down, dwarfing him in the presence of hell's very own. "He's a demon of war. Used to be a commander before he fell from his position and got sealed in here." Raising his massive fist, Belzimet rammed the clenched appendage towards Milo who quickly dodged out of the way, throwing his weightless frame to the side before gracefully rolling back to his feet. Even with the power of regeneration, meeting Belzimet's attacks head on would surely end this battle. Seeing how his massive strike not only left a crumbling crater in the floor but also dancing embers licking the area of impact, one could draw the conclusion that Belzimet's prison would soon come to perish under his berserker rage.

"Any weak spots...?" Milo turned to the blade's wisdom as Masamune had proven his knowledge in otherworldly entities. The demon's stone like hide appeared incredibly durable and no normal blade would have the ability to pierce its thickness. However, Masamune was no normal blade, and such was proven as Belzimet attempted another attack.

Though the initial force of impact missed his small target, Belzimet's flames ran viciously across Milo's chest and cindered his t-shirt to the point of ashes, leaving a devastating burn along his flesh. Though the wound neigh instantly healed, the demonic flames hurt unlike anything Milo had ever endured. This painful maneuver would however proceed to leave Belzimet open for a peerless strike as Masamune's magical edge met with the monster's demonic flesh and tore the tissue apart as the blade left a bleeding wound upon the demon's side. Rather than blood, a flaming liquid reminiscent of lava leaked from the vicious wound, forcing an anguished scream from the demon as he was unused to the searing touch of pain.

"How?!" The only word leaving the beast's lips as he flailed his arms around in savage anger was one of confusion. This time however, Milo was prepared for the infernal continuation of Belzimet's attacks, the whipping fire circling the monster like a serpent. With a dexterous back flip, Milo managed to dodge the entirety of Belzimet's strikes but found himself desperately clinging to breath. The fire was consuming the very air around them, replacing it with smoke and cinder. The hellish wound placed on Milo's now naked chest was one of devastating proportions and stole an incredible amount of energy as it reformed to a healthy state, leaving the boy fatigued and questioning if New York was the right decision.

"Pull yourself together, Milo! We can do this!" Despite the incredible foe destroying their surroundings, Masamune had proven his mythic power by surpassing the demon's otherwise impenetrable hide. Tightly wrapping his fingers around the blade's black hilt, Milo charged forth and counted on the demon's temporarily confused state to dance between his frenzied attacks, avoiding the infernal fire as the boy continued to plunge Masamune into the demon's stomach and tore open his abdomen, sliding the blade out from Belzimet's side. Another scream echoed throughout the hellish darkness, accompanied by Milo's gasp of pain as Belzimet's boiling blood splashed onto him and forced the boy to back away from the demon's frame.

Completely taken over by a raging frenzy, Belzimet slammed his massive form against walls and ground alike, leaping into the darkened air before viciously landing upon the prison's stone foundation. The astounding impact caused the already damaged ground to cave in on itself, shattering and cracking as the massive stone bent beneath Belzimet's weight. The impact did not linger before sending both Milo and Belzimet to the depths below.

This was however an opened door, allowing for a counter attack. Jumping from one boulder to the next, Milo caught the moment with an iron fist and placed his foot on the demon's chest before launching himself towards the beast's skull, sinking Masamune into the demon's cranium. All the while, however, Belzimet had managed to grab hold of Milo's frame and nearly crushed the boy's slender body beneath his burning strength, had Masamune's devastating blade not ended this fight seconds before they all connected with the water below. Doused from both fire and life, Belzimet crumbled like an ancient statue as his essence was snuffed out, not exorcised but destroyed.

Unsummoning Masamune, Milo reached for the stony edge and pulled himself out of the cold, revolting water he had found himself in and quickly fell to his back upon solid ground, his chest rising and lowering rapidly in response to his heavy breathing. "Disgusting..."

"Hey, you needed a bath after that." Masamune responded with a chuckle now that the threat had ceased.

"Not in sewer water...!" Indeed, the sewers. Milo had survived his meeting with a demon, albeit by the skin of his teeth, and slew the beast with the mighty Masamune in hand, only to land in a river of filth, shirtless and breathless. No one said this job was going to be glamorous, after all.

[FacePunch]

“Hmph. Like tryin’ to cut through steel...” Skull-Thasher grunted. He had been sawing at the widow’s webbing with his combat knife for a good two minutes and he hadn’t gotten anywhere. “Yo, Sky! Can I get an assist over here?” He shouted, his voice barely carrying over the sounds of intense conflict. May O’Reilly sped past the pair of battling sorceresses and landed next to her friend and ally, Jeremy. The two hadn’t known each other very long; only a little more than a month. And yet, May had never felt as close to another human being as she did to Mahers. The two had fought side by side in the direst situations more times than she could count. Now here they were, ready to die once again in the pursuit of defending the world from a mad scientist and his army of animal men. “What’s wrong?” She asked, her eyes darting across the battlefield. “The spider bitch covered my guns in her webs. Can’t get the crap off.” He explained, showing the useless weapons to her. Skyquake glanced at the strange substance before taking a handful of it in each hand and tearing it off in one swift pull. “Thanks, doll.” Skull-Thrasher made sure the barrels were clear and then turned to rejoin the fight. “Just don’t die, okay?” May called after him. Jeremy looked over his shoulder, cackling like a madman under his helmet. “I’d like ‘ta see them try!”

Not far from the Vanguard team, Thunderbolt busied himself side stepping all of Black Widow’s attacks. “That last one almost hit me.” He mocked, moving his head to the left to avoid a ball of webbing. The spider woman leapt forward, intent on smashing Harvey’s head in. All her fist found, however, was concrete. “Gotta be quicker than that!” She howled in anger, launching another string of web at Thunderbolt’s feet. The speedster hopped over the front of the string and landed on the rest of it. “Gotcha.” He giggled. The woman smiled, tugging on the string. To Harvey’s horror, he discovered that his foot was, in fact, stuck to the web. Not my brightest move. He thought as he went hurtling through the air toward the deadly arachnid. Moments before Widow could get her claws on the young police officer, a flash of lightning zoomed past, grabbing hold of Thunderbolt and dragging him away from danger. “I totally had that!” Harvey complained, cradled in the arms of his young, badass of a sister. “Stop messing around and take her out. This isn’t a game, Harv. Or did you forget the world was ending?” Boom dashed toward the drider, running circles around her mass of legs and huge abdomen. The speedster unleashed a flood of powerful blows to the spider’s joints, dodging all of her attempts to counterattack with expert ease. “Okay, first off, I know. Second off, the world is not ending. The domes are only affecting a handful of cities and Iron Knight probably already has a plan for curing everybody. Besides, how can you not have fun looking at that thing?” Thunderbolt waved his hands toward the abomination of a woman/spider hybrid. “I mean, come on. How do you do anything looking like that? Buying groceries must be the worst.”

“Villains don’t buy groceries, Thunderbolt.”

“They could. Hey, do you buy groceries?”

“Only when I don’t eat out.”

“Really?”

“No, you idiot! I don’t buy groceries!” The frustrated villain shouted. Boom sprinted away from the drider and stood next to her brother once more. The two looked on as the drider’s legs collapsed under her, unable to bear her weight after such an excruciating beating. “I’ll kill you both!” Black Widow attempted escape the two by attaching to the ceiling using her webs produced from those spinnerets of hers, but was stopped when Radiance appeared to assist the speedsters in taking her down. The electrokinetic wasn’t quite ready to fight the spider, it seemed, since the drider managed to capture Radiance in one of her webs. The speedsters looked on, unable to help; what with being flightless and all. But the siblings should’ve had faith in their teammate, who managed to electrocute her attacker into unconsciousness. Radiance lowered the villain to the ground and checked her pulse. After seeing that she wasn’t dead, the heroine decided to clock out and passed out on the floor. “I’ve got her.” Harvey announced, running to the woman’s side. “Be right back.” Thunderbolt picked up Radiance and held her carefully in his arms, sprinting away at top speed. He was out of the state in seconds. The speedster caught his stride somewhere in New Jersey, hitting his maximum speed. He fired past the ‘Welcome to Lost Haven’ sign and dropped off Radiance right next to Iron Knight.

“ShesnotdeadshesjustunconsciousiguessherpowersoverloadedorsomethinganywayIdidn’twanttoleaveherwithstrangerssoIbroughtherebackhereifthatscoolwithyouokaythanksbye.” Thunderbolt spewed at super speed before taking off to get back into the fight.

Harvey returned just in time to catch the tail end of White Witch’s epic duel with the Silver Sorceress. He watched in fascination as the young heroine blasted the woman with enough force to send her crashing into a wall, knocked out. “Nice going!” He yelled over to the girl. His comment was followed by Witch stumbling backwards into a corner, collapsing herself. “Just great.” Harvey sighed, hand on his face. “I’ll be back. AGAIN.” Thunderbolt zoomed over to his teammate and picked her up as delicately as he could manage. He raced back to Lost Haven, hitting full speed half a millisecond sooner than last time (Witch was slightly lighter than Radiance) and running up the Tower, where he laid her down next to her compatriot.

“TellmewhentheywakeupandIcangetthembackintothefightinaflash.Okaythanksbye.” Thunderbolt vanished once more, pumping as much juice as he could out of the Lightning Effect.

Everything stopped. Thunderbolt could count the time that passed between his foot falls as he entered the factory at full speed. The only thing that appeared to be moving at all was the light, which, despite being far and away faster than he was, was still within his visual range. He looked around at everyone in the room, getting a handle on the situation at hand. The Silver Sorceress and Black Widow were standing once more, seemingly at full power. Sharknado was in the middle of slamming his oversized fists against the ground, sending shattered clumps of concrete in all directions in his attempt to smash Lyger and the defenseless Bast. Suffice to say, the two street tier vigilantes weren’t going to last long against someone as strong as the shark man. Boom seemed to have a handle on the spider as she whipped past Black Widow in slow motion. She was the only one in the room still moving; at least in Harvey’s perspective. The Sorceress was performing some kind of spell, a ball of light forming in her hands. Thunderbolt watched in fascination as the light particles around the huge room flowed toward the energy ball and into the woman’s hands, leaving complete blackness in their wake. Thunderbolt had to prioritize. Now. Things were definitely not looking good here…You heard Laura. The whole world’s at stake. Can’t hold back. I won’t. Thunderbolt’s gauntlet-covered fist began to glow bright blue with energy. Lightning danced between his finger tips as he charged toward Jaws, his kinetic energy flowing into his fist. The super charged punch slammed right into the villain’s nose, his weakpoint, at mach 600.

In real time, it would look like the giant shark hybrid had suddenly gained the ability of flight and went soaring backwards at massively hypersonic speeds. The creature crashed through the facility, none of the metal and concrete able to slow him down before he reached the outdoors. Thunderbolt struck the monster over and over. He used his most powerful punches in rapid succession, not giving the beast a chance to so much as blink. “You’re strong. I’ll give you that. Hell, you might even be strong enough to give Icon a fight. But that’s the problem. I’m not Icon.” Thunderbolt was moving so fast that there was no way anyone could hear him. By now, the force of Harvey’s barrage had carried the hybrid to somewhere in Kansas.

The shark came crashing to a halt in the middle of a cornfield, very unconscious. Harvey slammed his feet through the dirt, kicking up a ditch behind him as he tried to slow to a halt. Crops went flying in all directions as Thunderbolt finally managed to stop moving, half a mile from where he left Jaws. “Hell yeah.” He panted, sweat dripping from his every pore. “Now...where am I?”

Meanwhile, back in West Virginia, the Vanguard and Boom were hard at work trying to beat the rest of Doctor Giraffe Neck’s team. Skyquake grabbed a hold of one of the vegan’s giant plants, ripping it out of the ground and tossing it away. Another pair of plants popped out of the ground nearby, firing a trio of poison-tipped spines at the Irish girl. The normally deadly blades bounced off of Skyquake’s hyper durable skin. In response, May clapped her hands together at super speed, using a thunderclap to destroy the two attacking objects. Skull-Thrasher rolled past the verifiable jungle defending Sumac, firing at her with one of his glocks. A wall of vines appeared in front of her, so dense that they stopped the rounds in their tracks. Jeremy flipped past the vines and swung at Sumac with his baseball bat. The mage ducked the blow, throwing a fist in Maher’s direction. “What’s that supposed to-“ Skull attempted to taunt the weak maneuver that hadn’t even hit him, but was soon shut up by a huge tree mimicking a fist knocked him backwards. Supercell approached Sumac from the other side, a dark cloud hovering over his head. He launched a pair of lightning bolts in the woman’s direction, which were soon stopped by a wall of trees. Aban Ali Sahar dashed to the left and opened fire past the wall. Sumac spun away from the barrage and into the cover of her home made garden, raising up a couple of Venus Fly Traps to deal with the Syrian.

“Okay. We gotta end this. Mercenary!” Skyquake shouted in an attempt to get War-Pulse’s attention. “You ever heard of the fastball special?” She asked, holding her hands together and nodding toward the Silver Sorceress.

[nitemare shape]

Icon knew that Vigilante was right, that if Effigy had been able to mimic his powers it could have conceivably been too much for the team to bring down, so grudgingly he took to the sky and hovered above the action. He had never been one to feel powerless, yet in this instance, that is exactly how he felt. He wanted to do so much more, but he knew that in this case, he was best serving the team by staying out of the fray.

But he watched.

He watched as the team tried to pinpoint which of the Arachnes was the real one. He watched as Vigilante fired at one of the spider women trying to suss out which one was which, and though he seemed satisfied that he had discovered the imposter, the rest of the team was less sure, and were vocal about it.

Come on guys, keep it together. Icon thought to himself, hoping that the rest of the team would soon take down Effigy, clearing the way for him to return to the action, and then end the threat of Dr. Diplodoc and Pax Metahuman once and for all.

“Icon, be ready to fly back. I might have a job for you.” Chris Arthur’s voice came through the earpiece that the armored hero had given to the members of the different teams before they descended on West Virginia.

“Right.” Icon said as he rocketed away from West Virginia toward Lost Haven, hoping as he went that Arthur knew what he was doing.

***

The light was harsh as she opened her eyes, so much so that she was forced to blink several times in order to give her eyes a chance to adjust. Her ears rang as she tried to gather her wits, and she ached all over. The Black Widow had given her a beating, however she was able to take care of the arachnid villain, that much she was sure of. But what Radiance wasn’t exactly sure of, was where she was now. The last thing she remembered was checking to make sure that she hadn’t killed Black Widow, and then everything went dark.

It took her several moments, but she finally realized where she was. Much to her relief, she wasn’t in some dungeon in Dr. Diplodoc’s lair, in fact, it was quite the opposite. She sat up slowly, the pain that coursed through nearly every inch of her body did it’s best to keep her down, yet she gritted her teeth and got back to her feet. And for the first time, she realized that she wasn’t alone. She saw Chris Arthur standing behind a computer console directing the assault against Dr. Diplodoc’s forces, and she also saw the White Witch, also sprawled out on the floor.

She took a step towards Arthur and a sharp pain in her ribs nearly brought her to her knees, but she did her best to ignore the pain and approached Arthur.

“How did I get here, and how do I get back?” She said, determined to rejoin her teammates in West Virginia. “We have a job to finish, and I’m not sitting this thing out.”

[Dedonus]

Christopher Arthur III

“Alright, Icon. Meet me at the helicopter pad on Tartartus Island prison facility.” Before Chris could explain his plan, he noticed from the corner of his eye a blur. He then heard one of the speedsters speaking to him, although the metahuman was speaking so fast that Chris could only understand only part of what the man said. When the blur left, he saw Radiance lying on the floor.

“Sorry about that.” He told Icon, “Anyways, you know how planes or helicopters are sometimes used to carpet bomb a wildfire with water or some sort of fire deterrent? Well, what you’ll be doing is follows the same principle, except you’ll…”

Chris again was interrupted by Thunderbolt, who this time brought the White Witch, who was also knocked out. Just like last time, Chris could barely catch what the speedster was saying.

“Speedsters.” Chris muttered under his breath before continuing his instructions to Icon. “Where was I? Oh, yes. The same principle. However, you’ll be using whatever substance Doctor Diplodoc had planned to use to protect the prisons and other similar places from the domes. I’m 97 percent sure that the chemical cocktail will dissolve the domes, although I’m not very sure whether it will be effective in reverting those who have already transformed back into regular people. Any questions?

After he spoke with Icon, Chris was about ready to head out towards Tartartus Island, when Radiance suddenly woke up. She obviously had taken quite a beating, even though she seemed to mask it under a “I’m tough enough” attitude.

“How did I get here, and how do I get back?” She finally said. Then, just like an athlete who had just experienced a bad injury, demanded that she return back into the fray “We have a job to finish, and I’m not sitting this thing out.”

“Well…” Chris collected his thought before he responded to her question, “I’m assuming either Thunderbolt or Boom brought you here, said she’s not dead and ‘kay bye, then the speedster brought the White Witch here and said back in a flash and ‘kay bye.”

“Alright, whichever one of the two speedsters it was, they were speaking too quickly, so I’m not quite sure what they said. But please consider your own limits. I don’t want you killing yourself over this. But if you’re so hell bent on going back, I can get Thunderbolt or Boom back here.”

[fdeviant]

Sherman Square
Lost Haven

---

Flashing lights, rushing wind, unyielding forces and shifting inertia, Marie’s unconscious form was at the whim of Thunderbolt’s speed. She was aware of her surroundings, aware of the fact that she had been escorted back to the tower in Lost Haven in what felt like an instant, but her mind was unable to focus on these external stimuli. Inside, she was lost, searching for control over her own body, falling deeper and deeper into the abyss. She could hear the continuous echo of her voice, yet she was not speaking. She could see an image like herself, a woman that bore her likeness, yet she donned garments from a time long passed.

Who are you? Marie tried to ask, but in the recesses of her own mind, she found it difficult to speak. In truth, she was unsure if it was even her body that she was trapped inside. The powers that she had wielded only moments ago, the magic that she tapped into, it was foreign to her, and yet entirely familiar. What was happening inside of her? Her illusory double appeared before her as a solid construct, a beautiful rendition of what Marie might have looked like in the Middle Ages. She moved her lips, but few words were given breath.

“Find me . . . find yourself,” was all she managed to say before she disappeared and Marie, after a few more seconds of internal wandering, regained control of herself. She sat up and leaned against the wall, her hearing and vision returning to what they once were. She saw Radiance and Chris speaking to one another, the former longing to return to the heat of battle and complete the task given to them.

“I-I . . .” Marie struggled to speak. She, unlike Radiance, wore no external injuries, but she was mentally drained. “I s-should probably get back out there as well.” Marie could hear the commotion through her earpiece. The Silver Sorceress and company had been revived thanks to some spell cooked up before the battle, meaning all the work that she and her comrades had done was being undermined. Their efforts had only slowed them down, and Marie had no such spell to return her companions’ vigor, but perhaps she could stop whatever magic the sorceress was working on currently.

Marie, with the help of Chris, was back on her feet. She stumbled a few times, but the bulk of her strength had returned. “I think I’m alright now,” she said to the others in the room, “and I might know something to stop whatever spell Silver Sorceress and her sister are conjuring, but I’ll need a few things.”

Marie took out a small length of chalk from a pouch at her side and began to inscribe Puck’s symbol onto the elevator door. Chris began to protest her blatant vandalization of his headquarters, but Marie interrupted him, “Don’t worry, it’ll wash off.” Once she had inscribed the symbol onto the door, she called the elevator to their floor. When the door opened, it wasn’t the elevator at all, but the entrance to The Red Devil. The smell of beer, musk, and strange concoctions flowed into the room, tavern patrons going about their daily business all the while.

“I’ll be right back!” Marie called behind her as she stepped through the door into the tavern. Once the elevator had closed, the symbol on the outside disappeared.

---

Inside The Red Devil, tavern goers were in a fit, all crowding around a grand mirror that had been set up downstairs. Its surface was a hazy white smoke, images of a bridge, a large truck, and other obscure omens filtered through from time to time. At one point, Joseph appeared, speaking to some invisible force, though none could hear what he was saying. At the moment, Puck descended the long flight of stairs into the tavern’s ground floor to watch the events unfold. Upon seeing him, Marie ran over.

“What’s going on?” she asked in both a curious and demanding voice.

“Well well, if it isn’t the White Witch! Surprised to see you back here to soon. Have you taken care of old what’s-his-name and his world domination scheme?”

Marie sighed, she hadn’t the stomach for Puck’s untimely sense of humor. “No, not yet, that’s why I’m here. I need Joseph to help me work a binding spell, where is he?”

“Afraid you missed him, love. He’s out on his own little adventure, and it looks like he might be in a spot of bother.” Puck pointed at the mirror.

It showed Joseph frantically swatting at the air, yelling, stumbling, tearing up at seemingly nothing. The tavern goers made noises of disgust, some urging him to get up and fight as if they were watching a sports program. Marie hushed them and tried to see what was wrong with him, but the images came in flashes, and in another moment, the mirror was blank.

“Where is he? What’s wrong with him? Where’s Holt?” Marie fired the questions at Puck with frantic unease, who only shrugged.

“I’m here,” answered an ethereal presence. Shadows collected in a swirl next to Marie, revealing the familiar, Holt.

“Why aren’t you with him, why aren’t you helping him?” Marie interrogated the spirit with increasing rage.

“Calm down,” Holt interrupted. “He dismissed me in order to save me. It’s a long story and neither of you has the time to hear it, but he needs help.”

“I’ll go,” Marie quickly volunteered. Whatever power I’ve suddenly unlocked, I’ll use it to save Joseph, then he and I can take down Silver Sorceress.

“What about your other problem, deary?” spoke Puck. “Right now you have an obligation to them more than to Joseph, are you sure you want to jeopardize their safety for Joseph’s?”

Damn him! Marie thought. She knew that Puck didn’t care about the heroes or those affected by Diplodoc’s bombs, he was just guilt tripping her into making a decision for the fun of it. But he was right. If Marie went to save Joseph, she would be putting her teammates at risk. She didn’t doubt their abilities, but she more than any of them knew the dangers of magic, and she feared that their strength and numbers may not be a match for whatever spell the Silver Sorceress was cooking up. At the same time, she didn’t want to lose one of the few friends she had made in her time working in Lost Haven. Then, it hit her, a compromise could be made.

“Holt, could you do something for me?”

Holt nodded. A familiar was normally only bound to one witch and could follow only their commands, but this was a time when such rules were allowed to be bent.

Marie quickly took up a small napkin and wrote the coordinates to Diplodoc’s base on it. “I need you to go to this location and contain whatever magic is being done there. Bind its power to the best of your ability until Joseph and I can work a proper binding.”

Holt nodded once more, taking the form of a large raven and gobbling down the napkin. He flapped his wings, disappearing in a swirl of black smoke and reappearing above Diplodoc’s base. He quickly swooped down, flying above the battle and over to the Silver Sorceress and her sister. He transformed once again into his true form, became intangible, and wrapped himself around their spell, using his own power to secretly contain theirs.

Meanwhile, Marie used Puck’s door to locate Joseph. She appeared just below the underpass where he was engaged in battle with the spirit of his father, Increase Mather.

“Go away!” Joseph screamed in agony, swatting at his father’s form, whose ethereal body took his blows with ease.

“You were always a disappointment to me, boy. If only you had been more like Cotton, but instead you called to the Devil’s whores and had you made into one of them! You don’t deserve to hold the name Mather, you don’t deserve to live!”

Joseph screamed, a sharp pain shooting through his chest. There was no one there, no assailant to harm him, but his mind believed otherwise.

“Leave me alone!” He again called out in fear, tormented by his father’s image, unable to do anything against him.

“Joseph?!” Marie called out in response to his cries. “It’s Marie, snap out of it!” She tried to break through the illusion with her voice, but to no avail. Where she stood, Joseph saw only his father. Her voice was overpowered by his, and her compassion was replaced by his hatred.

“You’re worthless!” Increase shouted, cracking a whip against Joseph’s back, who recoiled and writhed in pain. “You’re filth!”

“It’s not real!” Marie tried again. “Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real! Joseph, listen to me, it’s Marie, I’m here!”

“A disgrace!” Increase yelled louder, twisting his son’s fingers in a small contraption, bending them, breaking them. Joseph continued to scream.

“Father, I’m sorry, please leave!”

Marie looked puzzled. She was unaware of Joseph’s past, of his family. She could, however, piece together what was happening to him. His fear of Increase was given life by some spell. He was being tormented by illusions and, despite all his power, could not break free of them alone. Marie seemed to recall spell to break illusions, for seeing past the veil.

She began to chant, her voice like a low hum atop the bridge. It echoed through the entire underpass, her words calling to the spirits of the area. They came to her, bringing with them the energy of clarity, the gift of second sight. They placed their hands over Joseph’s eyes, giving him the ability to see truth from deceit. Marie commanded that the illusions fade, and they did, the image of Increase Mather burned away before Joseph’s eyes, and what was left was Marie.

Her spell complete, Joseph stood up, wiping dust from his clothes. Wiped away thick tears and ran up to Marie, hugging her, thanking her.

“I’m glad I could help, but there’s no time to be sentimental. Now I need your help with something.”

“I would,” Joseph responded, voice hoarse from his frantic yelling, “but I’m working on something of my own right now. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I got involved . . .”

“We don’t have time for this,” Marie interrupted. “I need you to help me with a spell to stop this bomb madness that’s going on right now, c’mon.”

“No,” Joseph replied with a harsh tone.

“What? What do you mean, no?”

“Exactly what I said, no. I’m not gonna run off with you to help you save the day, not this time. I uncovered something big by myself, and I need to see it through to the end. I don’t want to be your sidekick, Marie, I need to do something for myself. You can help, if you want, but I’m not gonna help you until I’ve figured out what’s going on here.”

Marie wanted to punch him, but that wouldn’t do either of them any good. Instead, she just nodded. “Fine, but let’s do it quickly.”

The two of them wandered down from the bridge to the underpass once more, making their way over to the CDC truck, which was now clearly visible. Surrounding the truck, they could see Odette, Lekh, and a few strangers who had arrived not long after Joseph’s imprisonment. They watched for a moment, but upon seeing a strange shadow following Odette, a being she assumed to be a faery by the feel of it, she charged in.

Still donning her White Witch attire, Marie spoke up. “What’s going on here?” she demanded, her recklessness brought on by an intense desire to return to Diplodoc’s headquarters. Little did she know, she had charged into another conflict all together.

[EnterTheHero]

Natural Selection Arc

==~==

Well, thought Gabriel, watching as Jacob dissolved into a puddle, and wincing as more vines coiled around his legs, this could definitely be going better.

Whatever meta powers were at play here were tricky- mostly due to the disorienting fact that he couldn't sense a phase signature from them. Which, all things considered, was supposed to be impossible. Normally, such a thing as plant matter and quicksand wouldn't be such an issue- a bright flare of plasma, and anything trying to constrict around him would be nothing but charcoal, dust, and dusty charcoal. In theory, at least. In practice, whoever had laid these traps had done their homework. Another trap had triggered along with the constrictor trap, one that had distressingly begun attacking his energy reserves whenever he tried to engage his armor. He had to keep flaring his reactor just to stay standing upright. Which was compounded by the third fucking trap, the one trying to blanket his mind in a fog of depression- a wet, dark weight on his psyche, trying to persuade him to simply lie down, to give up, to stop fighting.

Considering the annoyance that was building in his mind, it wasn't an unattractive option.

Gabriel grit his teeth, flaring the core deep in his chest, pumping more energy throughout his system, feeling more awake, but only barely. Fucking bullshit!! My mind isn't even human anymore- psychosomatic stimuli shouldn't have any effect! And this fucking-- argh! He grimaced as more vines lashed themselves to his wrists, trying to drag him to his knees.

Fucking energy vampirism shouldn't be working, either- I should be able to just snap my fingers and vaporize this farce of a trap! How is it managing to contain me??

It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. Thankfully, he didn't need to breathe anymore, or the vine coiled around his throat would have blacked him out already. As it was, everything on top of everything else was still probably going to do the job. He grit his teeth, trying again to engage his armor, with no such luck- whatever this meta power was, it was whisking away his energy before he could put it to good use. He slumped, being dragged further down.

Fuck. I'm sorry, Rach. Jacob. Justine. Everyone.

sir!!

Gabriel cracked an eye open. ...Daedalus?

sir, you cannot give up! not when they have ms. desdemona!

I know that, but I can't... I can't fucking get out of these fucking vines! I can't even overclock my thought processes without this force eating it! Do you have any idea what's causing it?

i know what you know, sir- this is rather distressing for me, as well. regardless, i may have a way for you to get out of this situation.

The vine around his neck tightened. Do tell.

the "vampirism" you mentioned appears to be a focused attack on your metagenesis triggers. the moment you attempt to bring your powers to bear, the "vampire" trap strikes, disrupting your armor's genesis.

Yeah, I know that. And?

perhaps it could work both ways? feed it enough energy that it cannot handle the influx- overload the system, as it were.

...It could work. There's just one problem.

which is?

I'll blow up.

...not necessarily--

Daedalus, the only way I could muster enough energy to overcome this energy vampire bullshit is by clocking into a higher ARTEFACT Mode from my base state. Which would require me to turn off our continuum-of-force failsafes. Those limiters are there for a reason- that much energy, all at once, could kill even me.

i... am aware. but what other choice do we have? we have no idea what this trap will do to us should we fall unconscious, and furthermore, we have no idea what their intentions are for ms. desdemona. her powers are still underdeveloped compared to ours. if her kidnappers are not careful in their endeavors, she could die quite easily.

...You fight dirty, do you know that?

i try, sir.

Fine. Do it. User override, release restraints to level 1. Disable continuum-of-force failsafes for ARTEFACT Optimization. His "heart" began thrumming faster as the restraints on its output were relaxed. The depression trap and the vampire trap attacked him anew, as though sensing what it was that he was going to do. Gabriel winced.

Here goes nothing. Access code: Shiva. User override. ARTEFACT Mode-04: ENGAGE.

A beam of blinding green fire erupted from where Gabriel knelt, piercing the sky, consuming the vines that attempted to constrict him as molten green metal flowed from his mouth, eyes, and ears, covering his body and hardening, turning jet black. The vampiric drain on his powers splintered and scattered from his awareness as his core felt as though it burst into flames in his chest. This really fucking hurt, but he could muscle through it- he wasn't going to fly away into ash when someone was relying on him.

The process died down, from a spear of green light to a bright green aura blazing around him. He flexed his hands- all six of them- and stood. The fog of depression trap was still trying to assault him, but he ignored it- he had better things to worry about. He stomped toward the underpass, magnifying his voice toward the people who waited there.

"Attention, idiot kidnappers. You are currently attempting to abscond with a friend of mine. This is a mistake. Cease your hostilities and turn over Racheli, and you can all go home. No one gets hurt. Toy with me..."

He was close enough to the underpass to be in full view of the entourage, now- six hulking metal arms coming out of his shoulders, a corona of emerald flame around his entire body.

"...And I break each and every last one of you," he said, finishing his threat.

[MelonHead]

Without the element of surprise the Polish criminal didn’t have a hope in hell against this new threat. The strange robotic form of the man the Meta had claimed was a doctor approached his position with intent, his threats made his purpose evident. His demands were unacceptable, but god Lekh wished he could acquiesce and escape this nightmare of a situation. He mastered his fear and the mask fell back into place, he was a manipulator, a thief and a criminal, even a killer if necessary. Whatever strange friends this Racheli woman had, he could still use his intellect against them even now.

“Ah.” Lekh began, raising one hand towards the approaching robot as he held his weapon low. “If you take one more step, one of my associates will shoot your friend in the head. I believe you are intelligent enough to see that Ms Desdemona is at our mercy, you may in fact be capable of killing the four of us, but not before your friend dies. That will leave you with naught but a hollow revenge, at best.” Silence grimaced beneath his mask, even as he briefly stepped away from the puddle at his feet, still attempting to keep the Meta down with his aura alone. He backed over to the ambulance’s cab and looked at the robot.

”So you understand how serious this situation is…” His weapon discharged and glass shattered, blood splattering the inside of the van and splashing against the windscreen, vivid red stains running down the glass.

"Unlike yourself, we are not overly burdened by morals, do not test us.” Lekh just barely managed to keep his voice from revealing his emotion, the knowledge of the murder he just committed staining his soul. There was little for it though, Bobby always had to die, he was the only real witness. Lekh walked back over to the puddle with a heavy heart, wondering if his display would be enough to stop the Meta from approaching. He supposed that if it were not, he himself would likely die. Still, only two minutes left.

"You are obviously aware by now that one of my associates has powers outside the realms of science, if anything happens to me, they will kill Ms Desdemona. The only way your friend survives this encounter is if she leaves with us, essentially, so I would advise you to rethink your stance."

[nitemare shape]

They’re stalling. We need to end this now before Diplodoc can do whatever it is he’s intending to do. Lyger thought to himself just as the Silver Sorceress caught his eye. She was again chanting, while focusing on a small ball of energy.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Lyger said under his breath as he made a straight line for her. However, as he got closer to her, he was suddenly bathed in a bright white light. The light was so intense that it caused a searing pain in his eyes, and when the light passed, he couldn’t see, at least momentarily.

When his eyes cleared from the sudden illumination, he knew something was wrong. He was no longer in West Virginia battling against the Pax Metahumana terrorists, he was instead back in Lost Haven. To his astonishment, he was in his civilian clothes, yet that wasn’t what took him by surprise. It was exactly where in Lost Haven he was. He found himself walking down a lonely side street that he had traveled down numerous times.

I know this street. Kyle thought to himself as he realized that he was not alone.

“Yeah dude, you’re like my brother and I love you, but you’re a fucking mess. You need to figure out what it is you want.” He paused, before adding. “Both of you.”

No, not again.

Kyle found himself walking along the dark stretch of road that led from Bogart’s back toward campus with Ronnie and Sam on either side of him, and for a moment, he was happy. For an instant, that terrible night hadn’t happened, and he was with his friends, if only for one last time.

But then he saw it.

Seemingly in slow motion, a black Cadillac emerged from the shadows and approached them. Kyle watched in horror as the car pulled up beside them, and a face leered at them. The face was one that had haunted his dreams every night for weeks, the mop of dirty blond hair whipped in the wind even as a shotgun was drawn from one of the windows.

“No, not again.” Kyle whispered to himself as he dove out of the way of the blast, grabbing Sam and throwing her to the ground with him.

Then the car sped off, Kyle watched in agony as the tail lights vanished from view.

“Ronnie.” Kyle said as he went over to his friend, laying facedown on the ground. Kyle reached out to his friend, and turned him over onto his back, only the face staring back at him wasn’t that of Ronnie. Instead, Sam gazed at him with a pained expression, and as he jumped back in shock, he saw that she was bleeding all over the street.

“Why didn’t you save me, Kyle?” She asked weakly.

“Because he couldn’t save you. Just like he couldn’t save me.” Ronnie’s voice came from behind him.

“Ronnie…” Kyle said as he looked to his friend. Though it was Ronnie standing just behind him, he was different. His eyes were sunken and lifeless and he was several shades paler than he had been in life.

“He might have chosen you over me that night, but he didn’t save you. He only put off the inevitable. Everyone around him dies…his mother, me…and now you.” Ronnie paused before turning toward Kyle and pointing an accusatory finger. “You let it happen, Kyle. You might as well have killed me yourself.” He said, and then he was gone, leaving only Kyle and Sam.

“Kyle…?” Sam said, her voice getting weaker.

“Oh Sam…please.” Kyle said as took her head and cradled it in his lap. “Don’t leave me Sam, please don’t go…Please don’t leave me like Ronnie. Please Sam, please…don’t go.”

Bast saw Lyger dart towards the Silver Sorceress, even though the oversized sharkman, named Jaws, had been pursuing the two metahumans.

“Wait, what about...?” Bast protested as Lyger ran off. However, almost at that same moment, someone knocked Jaws off his feet and sent him flying out of the facility, giving Sammy enough space to collect herself and get a bearing on her immediate situation. She assumed that one of the superhumans that Boom brought with her had attacked Jaws, although she did not know which one did it because it happened so fast. “Well, I guess that solves that.”

Then it happened. A bright light blasted in the two metahumans’ direction Sammy was momentarily blinded by the Silver Sorceress’ magical attack. However, a few seconds later, her eyesight returned. She saw Lyger sprawled upon the floor, muttering something. Bast figured that whatever happened to Lyger did not affect her because the Moly that she had taken just a few weeks ago must still have been giving her some immunity to the Silver Sorceress’ magic.

“Come on, Lyger. Snap out of it!” Bast shook the metahuman a little. She then looked around the room. This was definitely not the place for someone to be knocked out, or at least incapacitated, as Lyger was. Therefore, Sammy decided to drag the downed hero out of the line of fire. Even though she struggled to pull him to safety, Bast had the luxury of other allies to distract Diplodoc’s minions.

“He’s heavier than he looks.” Sammy muttered out loud as she tried to catch her breath after she had dragged Lyger out of the frontlines. When she took a seat next to Lyger and leaned her head against the wall behind her, Sammy could more clearly hear what Lyger was muttering.

“Oh Sam…please.” She heard Lyger plead. “Don’t leave me Sam, please don’t go…Please don’t leave me like Ronnie. Please Sam, please…don’t go.”

Sammy was taken off guard by what she had heard. She had introduced herself as Sammy, so unless it was just a coincidence, Lyger must have been referring to someone else. However, she could tell that Lyger was distressed by whatever he was experiencing.

“Don’t worry, Lyger.” Sammy calmly said to him, “I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

Kyle could feel Sam grow weaker with each instant that passed. Her breathing grew fainter and she struggled to speak. Kyle knew that it wouldn’t be long before her body gave out.

“Kyle…?” She said weakly, gasping as she said his name.

“Save your strength Sam, it’ll be alright. Just hold on, I’ll get you help. Please Sam, don’t give up. Don’t leave me too.” Kyle pleaded, knowing deep down that it was for naught. He held her tightly in his arms as her blood covered him, the warm, sticky fluid soaking his clothes as her breathing continued to grow weaker, and her heartbeat grew fainter.

“Please Sam, stay with me. I can’t do this without you. Please.” He begged as Sam barely clinged to life.

Bast could tell that whatever the Silver Sorceress had done to Lyger, it did quite a number on him. He grasped the thin air as if he was trying to hold onto someone. He kept making desperate pleads to someone named ‘Sam’, which hinted at this woman being important to him. Therefore, Bast knew she had to do something to help him. Just speaking to him did not seem to be cutting it.

She then took a deep breath before she leaned back into Lyger’s arms. Bast placed herself so that she would be in the same position where Lyger thought his ‘Sam’ was lying down. Then, she peered up at Lyger and placed her hand on the side of his face.

“I’m safe, Lyger. Your Sam is safe. I’m not going anywhere.”

[NeutralNexus]

It was time, the silver-clad mercenary had drained his opponent of his power supply, forcing him onto his knees. The three heroes were closing in, capitalizing on the opportunity to take the shape shifter out of the fight once and for all.

And yet, when they went in for the takedown, War-Pulse suddenly found his hands empty. The defeated Effigy had a saving grace handed to him in the form of Silver Sorceress, who had tore him from War-Pulse’s grasp and teleported him out of the fight in one fell swoop, presumably to battle with the other team seeing as how he was of no help in the current fight.

“Aw, come on!” Came a shout from the silver-clad merc. “I had already delivered the one-liner! You can’t blink him outta here after we set him up for the knockou--”

The Force of Nature stopped mid-quip, a loud groan came from him as he doubled over in pain, gripping his sides as he fell to his knees. An overwhelming rush overtook him, his nerves lighting up all at once as if he were on fire, his brain overloading with information. It was only now that War-Pulse realized that absorbing Effigy’s energy meant he just absorbed double the amount of kinetic power that he previously had, as Effigy was an exact copy of him, which included his standard power reserves. It was rare for him to get so much power, and when he did, his body would immediately spasm, his muscles clenching in response to the influx. It was intense, the feeling of a bomb being harnessed in one’s body, the mind working overtime to keep focus. The explosive might, the intoxicating influx of potential…

Very rarely did War-Pulse lose himself like this.

It took several minutes of writhing and agonizing pain, enough for a severe chunk of the fight to unfurl as blows were traded from either side. Most probably figured the fight with Effigy had drained Pulse of his power, though it could not be farther from the truth. However, when the mercenary eventually got back to his feet, the new situation became direly apparent. The cement floor beneath him began to quiver and shake, cracking in places with each step the man took. His eyes lighting up with a bright glow, the pupils vanishing in a luminous glow. His body hunched by the new weight, his breath was ragged and monstrous, the air visibly distorting from his facemask at every exhale. Kinetic Energy was sizzling off of him, dazzling the room with his new influx of raw power.

War-Pulse was conscious, but he was not to far away from loosing control.

His head swerved as he was addressed by Skyquake, though he did not know her by name. She was in a launching position, her head motioning to Silver Sorceress behind her, the target of his ever-increasing ire. The menacing glare of War-Pulse fixated on her for a few moments, his brow furrowing as the cogs turned in his head, the amount of effort the mercenary had to put into basic through process visually contorting his face as Skyquake’s proposition circulated in his mind.

“Y...yea, I’m picking up what you’re putting down.” War-Pulse uttered, the amount of energy in his body physically distorting his voice slightly. “But when you throw me, get the others clear...because I’m going to light this place up like it’s god damn Chinese New Year.”

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, the silver-clad renegade charged Skyquake, trails of crackling energy coming off of him at every motion, arcing and snapping into the air as he hopped up to place his feet in Skyquakes hands, crouching down to make himself more aerodynamic for the young feminine brute. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the Silver Sorceress and the writhing plants in her way, she was cooking something up, something deadly. If they had a shot to prevent it, this would be it.

“On my mark.” War-Pulse uttered. “Three…”

He felt himself being pulled back, Skyquake rotating her form to get the maximum launch. There was a surreal silence as the mercenary counted down, both participants blocking out the ambient sounds of battle as they set up the shot.

“Two…one…NOW!”

At Pulse’s command, Skyquake’s waist pivoted as she threw her leg into the ground, smashing up the concrete as she jammed her shoulder forward, her arm pushing hard on Pulse’s feet as she launched him directly towards the Sorceress. To supplement this, a kinetic burst erupted from War-Pulse’s feet as he pushed away from Skyquake, the momentum of both forces cause much more than War-Pulse singing through the air. A deafening shockwave snapped out from the launch, even from Skyquake’s release point War-Pulse was already breaking the sound barrier. He tore through the air, a kinetic buffer surrounding War-Pulse as he careened towards Silver Sorceress and Sumac, a fist cocked back wreathed with a luminous aura, a beautifully lethal omen for the payload the mercenary intended to release.

Of course, Sumac saw it coming, bringing up a plethora of foliage to wall off his assault. Snapping venus flytraps, gnarling vines wreathed with thorns, and thick, hide-like leaves that covered the two.

But it amounted to nothing more than tissue paper to the ballistic missile that was the War-Pulse. He crashed through the plants like they weren’t even there, his eyes light with kinetic power as the ground below him ripped apart from being within the sheer vicinity of his approach.

What was coming toward Silver Sorceress wasn’t entirely Trent anymore, the influx of power caused the mercenary to become drunk with power. This was not a just a metahuman mercenary, it was hard to even call what was approaching her a man. There was a berserker hurtling towards Silver Sorceress, a monster who lost himself to his own power, barely able to contain himself. There was nothing left the manipulate, no mind to corrupt that was not entirely committed to contain the potential inside him at this moment for the spellcaster, there was only power.

“SUCK ON THIS YOU GLORIFIED HAG!” He screamed, throwing his fist forward as soon as he came into range. The blow combining with the kinetic empowerment and the momentum caused a payload that would rival a full-on bomb, the two being lost in an explosion that shook the very foundation of the warehouse. The ground below them buckled and pulverized, the air around them being torn apart as the explosive shockwave snapped out from the contact. Old equipment was ripped apart from their positions, windows shattered, a wave of earth rippling out as if it was liquid as the room was suddenly filled with light.

The destruction had not been fully realized when the sound finally died down, but the walls of the building had been torn asunder. The area was dense with smoke and dust, leaving everyone with one very important question.

Had War-Pulse gone too far?

[Hellis]

Now Broker wasn't no expert. But there was a whole lot of magic around that he needed to locate and indentify. The amount of magical power players had grown the last few decades and he had been extremely busy littering the world with low totem pole supervillains. Most of them were one hit wonders, getting killed or incarcerated after a single attempt at big scale crime. Some became mobster hitmen. But this was all part of his long term plans in the end. His network included pretty much everyone of note. But he needed to secure himself some footholds in the area. Luckily, his liason in this world had long worked with a certein Mr Puck. A fellow demon as Broker understood it, one running a bar and employing local witches. He could work with that. A demon with his fingers in the supernatural pie was someone of his own heart. Or well, of his own lump of burning coal that he insisted was his heart.

Miss Chamber was a delicate feautured slavic woman who offset her small and fragile stature with a hellcat attidude and forcefull personality. Her black hair was cropped short and made into spikes while her pale skin was accentuated with black lipstick and a fashion sense ripped from the 80's dying goth wave. Broker appreciated the girls attitude above all else however as she stood with one hand on her hip and the other curled into a fist but for the defiant middle finger. She was his favorite for a reason.

"For what reason should I indulge in fornication with my own self" Broker said in mock shock as the woman let her hand fall back to her side.

"For making me miss my seance." The gothy girl spoke with a snarl to her voice that sent a a tingle up the demons spine. Alexandra Chalmers had many deaths on her hands. Many small scale crooks had died from a drop of her toxins. And her wry, cynical mind was perfect for a conwoman such as her.

"You aren't a medium." He answered with a small smile on his lips.

"My clients don't know that." The gothy witch shot back with a grin. She looked past Broker and noticed Blueberry. "Hey Blue"

"Hello Lyssa" The Glutton answered before she stepped up to hug the petite human.

"How's eating"

"Hungry still..."

"When aren't you" She chided.

"So. Did you tell Puck I was coming?"

"Sorry Horny, but Puck has been busy with something. He should be back soon though I hope." Lyssa turned around and described the ward that allowed them entrece to the bar. Brooker knew how to get to the bar of course, but he felt like it was only proper to use one of Pucks own to get him inside the first time. As they stepped in, his features melded from the handsome, firey haired human to the tall, horned demon that his infernal true form was.

The Red Devil was lively this evening, teeming with mystical banter and trade of all sorts. Denizens were gathered in all corners of the tavern, engaged in all forms of strange business. A large crystalline mirror stood aloft in the far corner of the ground floor, attracting hoards of bar goers to see what images it might produce. In another corner, demonic and faerie merchants sold their wares: magical trinkets, tools, reagents, and favors. The house witches were scattered here and there, catering to mortal and magical customers alike. It was a busy evening for the demon tavern indeed.

Puck felt the familiar twitch of his demonic bretheren as Broker entered the bar. It was akin to a shiver or goosebumps, but something more infernal. Only on one other occasion had the two met, in Medieval France some 600 years ago when both were meddling in the Hundred Years' War. It was a quick greeting, nothing more, but enough to give Puck the impression that Broker was working for the man downstairs and had been at the contracting business for longer. Puck was but an imp, a demon plucked not from Hell, but the Otherworld. His contracts go back only so far, but Broker's might indeed go back to the beginning of humanity.

Puck came rushing downstairs to greet his esteemed guest, dressed in his signature black suit, hair a handsome mess, sweeping over his ram-like horns. Upon seeing Broker, he put on a wicked smile, picked up a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar, and came prancing over with spritely lithness.

"To what do I owe the honor of such an appearance?" he asked in a slightly sarcastic tone, bowing to Broker and hoping to appeal to the demon's sense of humor. He held out the bottle as a show of good favor.

"Oh. Just laying the groundwork." Broker spoke in a voice that was grizzly and unpleasant to human ears, turning away anyone dumb enough to eaves drop. To the demons however, it was no less pleasant then common english. "I thought we could talk shop. This new age of heroes thing... It provides new and exciting opportunities for one such as me." He took the bottle of whiskey and eyed it. "I thought this brewery burned down 212 years ago... In fact. I made sure it burned down after that whole debacle with the priest using blessed whiskey to kill a vampire."

"I made sure to save a bottle or two for such an ocassion. You've got your eyes and ears in the human world, and I've got mine." Puck gestured to the various witches of the bar, all going about their daily contracts.

Puck continued. "You're right, however, which is exactly why I've set up shop here in Lost Haven, what with all the metahuman commotion in this area. I've even managed to snag a 'hero' for myself. Have you heard of the White Witch? She's quite something and I've got her on my payroll."

"So I heard. It is why I came here. It seems we work the same racket." The demon spoke as they moved further into the bar. "I am one of the Seven Sins Incarnate after all. There is only two options when it comes to direct competition. Destroy them or form a monopoly with them. I am partial towards the latter." He explained as he found a seat. The high rise, plush red chair seemed out of place for such a bar. But the amount of different missmatching furniture around told him it was one of the less gaudy pieces. He blamed the Fae.

"As am I," Puck replied with some heightened level of comfort. He'd been issued threats by other supernatural agencies in the past, all of whom he knew could do him no harm, but he wasn't quite sure when it came to Broker. Being one of the sins and a powerful demon, perhaps he held the means to kill Puck, perhaps not. Either way, if there was even a doubt, Puck wasn't keen on taking that kind of risk.

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

"I am in the buisness of providing mortals with powers right now. You know the deal, bestow upon them a gift of great power. Of course, I've found that the best investement is in bestowing a little here and there and corall the surviving few into capable muscle for hire. Much like you and your witches." He said as he motioned toward Lyssa who answered by giving him the finger again.

"She's a real charmer that one. As for what I had in mind. I plan on expanding my buisness exponentionally. The little demon invasion has fractured alot of the ambient magic, there are so many lost, poor and helpless souls. It is the perfect fuel for my next crop of... Unique helpers." He leaned back in his chair as he contemplated what to say next. "But to to do so. I need to find someone with enough power to create a soul circle. Someone who isn't a demon as we tend to taint the magic we use."

Puck smiled through his discomfort. He knew where this was going and was powerless to stop it. Did he really want to be in business with Broker? It seemed that he didn't really have a choice.

"My witches aren't exactly the casters that you've cooked up. I've granted power in my time, but these days I normally let them do the deal making while I sit back and enjoy my eternity in other ways. Most of them have come upon power on their own, and I doubt any of them are powerful enough to perform whatever magic you have in mind. The White Witch, however . . . she's about to make a discovery that will likely send her in your direction. I can tip her off to your presence here the next time we meet, if you like. She's rather unique, that one. If any of my witches had the capability to do this, it's her."

Puck took several shots of whisky to calm his nerves. He was seldom nervous around others of his kind, but Broker commanded an empire far greater than his own. If nothing else, he feared him for his success and ingenuity.

"White Witch then. Exellent." The greed demon said. "Now. What boon would you ask in return for this?" The Broker raised a eyebrow. The toothy grin on his face widening.

"Only that my business continue in peace and once your business with White Witch is complete, she return to my service. She is under contract here, after all."

"Really? Just that. No favors?" The demon raised both eyebrows. "Fine. The witch will be returned to you. And I will make sure your buisness is undisturbed. Consider yourself off limits to any of my agents from now on." He reaches over to shake Pucks hand. For demons, this was a downright sacred gesture. A deal had been reached. A pact had been formed. And humanity had no idea what awaited it.

[Culluket]

ͬ̄͆̈́́ͤ ̛ͦ̓̚ ͌̋̈́̓͊͡ ̏̿̅ͦ ͆͐̑ͦ͂ ̈́́̌ ̆͐͋̇͆́ ͣ̈̾̾̐ͬ͜ ͦͩ́ ̉ͣ̔́͒͠ ̎ͭ̏̑͒ ̉̎͠ ̴̓͋̒̽̈́ ͊̐͑ͮ͌ ͧ̉ ͥͧ͆̆ͦ͛ ̔͑ͨͨ͒ ͬ͂ͧ̅͛ ͧ͜ ͮ̈́͒̐͌ͫ ͂ͥ ̧̏ ̿̓͑̔̽͞ ͮ̆́̀ ̓͒̉̚ ̀̓̍͑͑ ͑ͪ̊͋͆͂̈́

M͘E̛͟A̶N͏̨W̴̨H͝I͢͟͡LE

"--joyrider who crashed an out-of-service metro bus into the bay has still yet to be identified--"

Mike Jones, aka Killa Deth, lounged on an orange plastic wall-seat as the television chattered in one corner of the Donutcahedron, tapping out a rhythm on his enormous thighs. The warm air of the store smelt distractingly of batter, sugar and mouth-watering deliciousness, and if there was a better way to start the day in this town, he hadn't found it and hoped he never did.

"--downtown riots believed to be caused by panic due to the developing metahuman crisis--"

Carrie Crowley, the forty-something proprietor, heaved a wide cardboard box onto the counter, its base already beginning to turn damp.

"Here ya go, hun! Two dozen extra-hots."

"Mm-MMM, smells good!" He stood, stooping slightly to keep his head from hitting the roof, and lumbered over, taking the box under one huge brown arm and slapping a bill down on the counter. "Thanks, Carrie."

"Well, Shelly, I think it should be pretty clear to everyone that these domes are a false flag operation designed to draw attention away from the actions of the global Illuminati--"

"You betcha. Hell, I'll give ya the cop discount, too." She dinged the register.

"Uhhhh...." Deth rubbed the back of his neck, "...Yo, you know we all bad guys, right?"

"Sweetie, last week there was a guy in the next district callin' himself the Texas Battlesnake literally tryin' to drop Agent Orange on Mexico. You and your pals rippin' off a bunch of Wall Street parasites and spendin' the money on donuts just doesn't come close. Now g'wan and get outta here, you're blockin' up the entrance."

---

"Heyyy Killa Deth!"

A couple of local kids boarded the swaying, rattling subway train, heading his way and throwing high fives as the doors closed.

"Villinus, man!"

"Hey little brothers. You keepin' in school?" He pointed with both hands, giving them an exaggerated, interrogative look from under his brow. They chorused in the affirmative.

"That's good. I know it sucks, yeah? But you gotta learn. The more you know, the less ways the Man got of lyin' to you and keepin' you down."

"Just pile-drive him like you did t' Manifest Density." One of the kids piped up. Jones shook his head, chomping down on a donut directly beneath the No Consumption Of Food Onboard This Train sign.

"Man, violence ain't th' answer to nothin'," he said between chews, "That's just what you do when you got no options left."

"You cleaned out that Gene place, tho?"

"Yo, those guys were experimentin' on puppies and shit. I got no regrets over trashin' that place. Gave that money to a animal rights group, too." He licked sugar off his fingers, nodding firmly.

"Like, PETA?"

"Hell no not like PETA! A real one."

"But you beat up th' Anchorman, right?" asked another. "Davey was tellin' us about it."

"Well he didn't leave me no damn choice. Fool was bustin' up one little demo got a little hot, and starts disrespectin' women. In my neighbourhood. I ain't havin' that! So yeah, I called him out and then I kicked his dumb ass til he manned up and said he was sorry. You remember that, little brothers," He frisbee'd them a donut each, heaving himself up as the carriage slowed to a halt, stooping slightly to avoid banging his head on the roof. "Bein' badass ain't about pushin' folks around or gettin' rich. Bein' badass is about stayin' real and stayin' true, no matter how hard it gets, or how many damn cops get in your damn way."

---

There were several cops in his way.

They were arrayed all along the street as he emerged from the subway station, lined up behind a low wall of plastic barriers and parked squad cars, blue and red lights flashing noiselessly. The foremost raised his hand, the other already hovering over his gun.

"That's far enough."

"Man are you for real?"

"I mean it, Deth! Step back from the barrier or we'll be forced to, ah..."

The cop had the decency to look uncertain. One of the other officers shrugged at him, helplessly.

"Get outta my face, Johnny Law! What, you gonna arrest a brother just for headin on to work, now?"

"Lucky for, ah... you, we're not after you today, Deth." The cop rubbed the back of his neck, "Whole district's cordoned off, can't let you through."

"And why the hell not?"

"Ah, some kinda disturbance before sunup, commuters and night workers rioting over something, they hadda bring the water cannons out."

"Folks shook up over this meta thing, yeah?"

"Might be. Ahh, not supposed to talk about it, but they're not ruling out some kind of chemical agent. Terror attack, maybe." He sighed, deflating. "...Look, they don't pay me enough to take on guys like you and the department's overworked as it is. If you're set on going through, I can't stop you, but for your own sake, watch your step. If you get dizzy, if you start to feel abnormal in any way, get back behind the line as soon as possible. And try not to bust anything else, okay? My ulcer's killing me."

---

A few helicopters roared overhead, circling. Jones gave them the finger, chewing with his cheeks stuffed full. City was turning into a god damn police state.

Past the barricade, the street was mostly deserted. Some broken windows, a few smashed shop fronts. Smoke still trailed from a burnt-out cab that had been flipped onto the sidewalk, but as riots went, this one looked pretty tame. The weird part was that everywhere, brick and glass seemed to have been defaced with psychedelic, nonsensical swirls of graffiti. Some of it even looked like kid's drawings. Hell, the middle of the street was covered by a gigantic pink mural of a grinning cat.

Least it gave the place some color.

The sparse, withered trees that lined the sidewalk grew thicker as he got closer to The Rabbit Hole bar, mingling with the wire fences and rusting street signs, casting deep shadows over cracked concrete. It was getting colder, too. Shallow drifts of snow were heaped in the gutters and stairwells, and there was this tune in his head, old and distantly familiar. It was getting maddeningly harder to think about anything else.

Right as the thicket was getting too dense to negotiate, he saw the neon sign, its lights currently dark, its arrow pointing down and twined with the dim frames for the animated rabbit. That had been Black Rabbit's gimmick, of course, back when she was running the show. Jones started down the stairs into the alcove, licking powdered sugar off his fingers, humming that goddamned tune to himself, and that's when he saw it.

"Aw-- maaan!"

The bar's lock had been broken open. The door creaked faintly on its hinges, showing only a thin crack of darkness behind. And there it was again -- the random colors, and a weird-ass gang sign, like a crude archway formed of horizontal lines, the word BABE sprayed across the width of the door, followed by the letter L underneath it

"Buncha damn animals in this town," Deth mumbled in an affronted tone, cradling his box under one arm. "...When I find out who Babe L is, he better watch the hell out." He shouldered open the door, "I'm gonna bust a track and roast his ass but good..."

He stopped dead. The donuts fell to the ground.

"Aww hell," he whispered in a hoarse voice. "Aww hell, no, I always cry at this part..."

The bar opened into a clearing, the dark, cold forest framing an old, familiar scene, one he had long ago forgotten but which now flooded back in a torrent of raw anguish. Bambi's mother, laid out in the snow, silent and unmoving. And Bambi slumped next to her, weeping softly, now hopeless and alone in a bleak, uncaring world. The moment had unmade him when he was a boy, like it had unmade him when his uncle had taken him and his half-brothers on that first and last hunting trip. The terrible weight of the senseless, tragic loss overcame him.

"They killed her, man," he choked, "Just straight up killed her, in front of her little boy." Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over, a reservoir of fresh childhood grief gushing to the surface. "That ain't right. It ain't right."

The music distorted, becoming off-speed, as though playing through a broken gramaphone. The scene melted and subtly changed, warping nightmarishly from Walt Disney to H.R. Giger. The trees grew ribbed and cadaverous. The doe's corpse now lay steaming and bloody, her beautiful head half-shattered by buckshot, her ribs exposed, her kindly eyes bulging and red, and Bambi was no longer sniffling weakly at his mother's side, but throwing his head back and screaming, and screaming, and screaming. The noise rang like a colossal bell, boring into Michael's skull like an industrial drill. He cried out and staggered, falling to his hands and knees in the snow.

"Jesus! Stop!" Panic strained at his voice. The noise was maddening. He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry!"

The corpse of Bambi's mother lifted its ruined head a few inches, flopping weakly as though tugged up by invisible strings, its tongue lolling from the side of its exposed jaw. Something slithered from its torn nose in cold gobbets of blood.

"Michael." it rasped. Something dark and foul dripped from its single, sightless eye. The musician blanched, flinching in raw horror.

"Oh god, no!" he shouted.

"Michael, I need you to listen to me carefully."

"Oh Christ." His stomach heaved and he retched, his last three donuts gurgling from his lips and staining the snow a sick yellow-brown.

"Michael, I am actually in a whole lot of pain here, so if you could just stop acting like a retard idiot for once in your goddamn life that would just be swell. Do you see the teapot to your left?"

"I know, I know they hurt you, I was just a kid--"

"Do you see the teapot, Michael?"

He saw it, through the blurred flood of hopeless tears. A piece of bright pink plastic, a child's toy, fallen to one side.

"Yeah. Yeah, I see it." He wiped vomit from his lips and clawed at his face, his hands shaking. The fawn was shrieking like a gale force wind now, quivering in grief, the noise lashing at his sanity like a rowboat in a typhoon. "--God please make him stop I didn't do it I couldn't stop it I don't know how to make it--"

"--Michael, if I get the teapot, I can make it stop. I need you to pick up the teapot and bring it to me. Can you do that for me, Michael?"

The doe's sightless eye stared at him through a film of blood, its jaw crackling unnaturally every time it spoke. Jones stared at it, gasping, sobbing wordlessly like a lost child.

"MICHAEL PICK UP THE F***ING TEAPOT!"

The baby deer shrieked in unison with its dead mother, unsettling the snow, shaking the trees to their withered crowns. A chorus of lost lambs and wailing children bleated plaintively in response from the hidden depths of the wood and Jones screamed in anguish, clutching at his head and scrambling to his feet.

"Alright ALRIGHT! I got it! I'm doin' it!" He stumbled through the bitter snowdrift, seizing the plastic container and limping back toward the talking carcass, turning his head away and covering his eyes in revulsion and pity. He set it down at arm's length and retreated, falling, scrambling away from the morbid scene on his backside until his spine met the cold wood of the twisted forest and he could go no further. He shrank down on the ice, hugging himself and rocking back and forth.

"Hell is wrong with us?" he wept, brokenly, tears streaming down his cheeks, "Why we gotta do this to ourselves?" He started sobbing like a child, heaving down lungfuls of air as the murdered doe tried feebly to drag the teapot to her shattered jaw with her broken leg, her son's screaming growing unbearably louder, splitting open his mind.

"Why can't people just eat beans and shit?" he babbled, through the film of tears, "They taste good. They got protein. We don't gotta hurt nobody." He collapsed, shaking, crying helplessly, "We don't gotta kill nobody..."

The dead doe swallowed, hideously, making a strangled gagging sound in its throat, and finally lay still. And when it seemed the appalling din could be borne not one moment longer, Bambi's unbearable screaming at last began to subside, becoming a keening, then a wailing, then a gentle, snuffling sob. The little fawn laid piteously down in the snow beside its mother as the trees faded into the dark shadows of the unlit bar, and little by little the ice began to melt, disappearing, leaving only dank wooden floorboards and a thin puddle of vomit.

Michael's hysterical misery began to recede. He took deep, hard breaths, heart still pounding a million miles a hour, wiping his eyes on his shirt and his nose on a discarded paper napkin, mopping his sweat-streaked brow. What the hell had come over him? It wasn't real. It was a story. Just a fairy tale. He was a grown-ass man, for god's sake.

"Ho... Haah.... Holy jeez..."

The shaking stopped. His vision slowly cleared.

Where Bambi's mother had lain rotting in the snow, a scrawny, unpleasantly familiar punk girl in a pink catsuit and a pair of glossy black stripper boots now draped herself face-down over a sticky public-room couch. She was pale, damp and breathing weakly, and she looked as though she had the mother of all hangovers. Little pieces of the scene continued to warp and flicker, subtly, at the corners of his vision. But even in the day-glo getup, even after all this time, he recognized her immediately.

"Hi." she said, in a dry whisper heavy with sarcasm.

"Aw, no. No, no way," he held up his hands, dragging himself unsteadily to his feet and struggling to reassert himself, "I don't need your kind of trouble, girl!"

"Well that makes two of us, asshole, thanks so much for the warm welcome."

"Screw yourself, Lewis!" He scrubbed at his eyes furiously, stepping around the acrid puddle that had been his brunch, "You show up outta nowhere in some porn-ass clown suit, bust up my door and drop a mindfuck on me and think shit's all cool?" He lifted the plastic bottle of nupharamine, shaking it in her face, "Oh, and you off the horse and back to the pills, is that what this is?"

"HEY!" Babel snatched the bottle out of his hand, smacking him across the knuckles on the backswing. "You don't know ANYTHING. You have NO IDEA what kind of night I've just had, Michael, so just shut the hell up and back the hell off!"

"You ain't even screwin' Vallis no more, so I got no reason to have to put up with your skinny white ass. And what the hell did you just do to me, huh? Bambi?? You think that shit's funny?

Caroline responded the only way she knew. She lashed out.

"...Watching an ex-gang rapper cry over a cartoon animal? Actually, yeah, that was kind of funny, thanks for asking--"

"--That was you, right? You terror gas me or some shit? There better not be no gas in my bar--"

"--The only gas in this downstairs toilet is the hot air pouring out of your fat stupid face--"

"--I got a reputation here--"

"THERE'S NO FREAKING GAS IN YOUR FREAKING BAR, MICHAEL!" She half-stood and swung at him, pounding his enormous chest awkwardly with both fists. "IT'S ME. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? IT WAS ALL ME! MY SHITTY, MESSED-UP HEAD IS EVERYBODY'S PROBLEM, NOW! OKAY??"

"Hell are you--" He swatted her hands away, tried to hold her gaze and failed as some crucial part of his brain spasmed. Being around her was like being around a migraine. His vision twitched and splintered until he was nearly blind, white noise tearing at his inner ear until he looked away, rubbing his eyes. "God damn girl, I can't even look at you right, what the hell?"

Even with the medication, her willpower was cracking. The bar pulsed like a racing heart. Pink mice swarmed over the furniture, whispering a hundred different nursery rhymes in little girls' voices.

"I don't. Know, Michael, I'm sick, okay??"

"You were always sick, Lewis." He shoved her back onto the couch as gently as he could bring himself to.

"You may not believe me, you fat, sanctimonious prick, but I am doing my best here."

Understanding dawned. He stepped back.

"...You went meta."

"Yeah. I went f***ing meta."

"Tell me you didn't get messed up by one o' them dome things."

"No, it was..." she pressed her hand to her face, groping at the memory, "I don't... Some guys, like government or something. They did something, just... People, you know? I was kind of in this..." Her eyes slipped away, "...At a friend's house."

"Uh-huh," he said, not buying a second of it.

"OKAY, fine, I was high as a frickin' kite, okay? Look, we got arrested, but they didn't... I don't know okay, there was a truck, I got like stun-gunned and it was like a secret lab or something, and I woke up on a table and now this happens:"

He reeled as his ears blared with the sound of every carnival on earth and the bar exploded into pink, nonsensical chaos. It lasted less than a second. He was still screaming when he came to.

"DON'T..." he flailed, pointlessly, "Just DON'T!"

"Yeah." she said, bitterly, subsiding wearily and letting her head and arm flop over the edge of the couch. "Yeah, so it turns out I'm a freak like the rest of you, now. Figured I'd come join your little idiot clubhouse and at least maybe get some kind of roof over my head."

He gave her a look of avuncular disapproval. "That ain't nice."

Babel threw up her hands. "Holy WOW do I not care about your feelings right now."

Jones cursed, trying to force his eye to stop twitching. He knew he wasn't thinking clearly -- he hadn't been since he'd got near the bar, and being around whatever Lewis had turned into was pulling at his reason like taffy. But he couldn't help thinking back to the kids on the subway. The lab thing. Rich men with money doing any damn thing they wanted. His brass-knuckled hands ripping open white cages filled with tortured, vivisected animals. His heart breaking the whole time. He had never been that angry in his entire life. He was a criminal, sure. But that?

That was pure evil.

And even though he didn't want her within a hundred miles of his business, when he looked over the pale, malnourished girl hung over his couch, he couldn't help but see it all over again.

"...They all just gotta keep makin' this meta business worse, don't they?" he said, his voice rough.

"Yeah." she sniffed wearily, massaging her eyelids.

"Messed with your brain but still left you a damn bitch, huh?"

"Guess so."

"Okay, listen... You ain't crashin' here. This ain't a hotel, I got a business to run. And even before you got all f***ed up you weren't exactly welcome."

"Yyyyyeah." Her head flopped over to look at him, her black-smudged eyes flitting open, "That's why you're gonna let me use the trainyard."

His face went blank in a flat admission of guilt.

"...I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Oh, I think you do."

He rubbed his mouth uneasily.

"...Amstrad ain't gonna like that."

Caroline explained, in detail, what the Professor could do with very specific portions of her anatomy.

"...Naw." he hesitated, shook his head. "...Naw, look, Lewis... I feel you, yeah? You got a bad deal, and it ain't no secret we all birds of a feather round here. But you got serious problems ain't gonna get solved just hangin' round a bar all day poppin' dope. 'stead of comin' here, you oughtta go find some actual friends."

"I don't have any actual friends."

"Yeah." He stepped over his own puke and recovered his fallen box of donuts, sulkily. "Wonder why that is."

Caroline bristled. "Do you want Bambi to come back, Michael?"

"NO!" he shouted, panicked. "Damnit girl! The hell is wrong with you, huh?" The keychain jingled instantly in his free hand. "Hell can't you just be normal??"

The girl made a thin, wheezing noise. And then she laughed helplessly, a weak, unhinged giggle on the brink of unreason and despair.

̺̞̗̤̘̫͞ ͞ ̱̖̱͢ͅ ͙͇͇͟ ̮̣̘͔̺͕̬ ̟͔̜̺̀ ͎̠̞̠̀ ͕ ̨͎̰ ̗̲̯ͅͅ ̵̼̼̠̫͇ ͉̦̳͎͡ ̰̟ ̱̖͉͎͞ ̨̠͙͇̥ ̱ ̴̖̹͕̤͚ ͕̼̲̤ ̦͢ ̟̹̙̥͍͖̬ ͈͇ ͕͚̻͚͓̤̕ ̡̰ ̸͕̟͍͍̤ͅ ̣̠̗͈ ̥̻̘̠͜ͅ ̴ ́ ̞̤͈̳

[nitemare shape]

Lost Haven had never been a quiet city, yet tonight, the streets were silent. As she walked down the street, the sounds of her footfalls reverberated off of the sidewalk, a lonely cacophony that drowned out her thoughts as she made her way back to the Lost Haven University campus.

She had left Lost Haven nearly a month ago, traveling to Baltimore to follow up on a lead on exactly what had murdered her mother. She had also hoped to learn more about the Dark Possessed, the evil entities which she had been trained from childhood to combat. Sadly, information on what had killed her mother had been scarce. What was worse, she had learned that the Dark Possessed were little more than common demons, which flew in the face of everything that she had been taught from the time she was 10 years old. The revelation had left her stunned and feeling rather hollow. While battling demons was a worthy cause, she was always led to believe that she was following a larger calling.

It was not that calling, however, that brought Adeline Strayer back to Lost Haven. When she had heard about the threat posed to the city by the terrorists of the Pax Metahumana group, she knew that she needed to come back, she knew that Kyle would need her. Though she had cut off communication with Kyle when she left the city, she still thought about him often, and feared for his safety. So she returned to Lost Haven, hoping to offer her assistance. However, she had not been able to reach him. She had heard rumors that a group of super heroes had banded together to stop the threat, and she could only hope that he was one of them.

As she approached the campus, Adeline hoped that her former roommate Emily might be able to tell her about what was going on in the city since the threat had been levied against the city, and that perhaps, she had heard from Kyle at some point during this mess.

As she walked, she suddenly became aware that she was not alone after all. Someone, or something was following her. At first, she thought that perhaps the interloper was one of the demons that her people had called the Dark Possessed, however, she soon realized that whoever the stranger was, it was not one of the black eyed wraiths. In the distance, she could hear something moving in the shadows, and then after several beats, she heard a growl.

Suddenly, the cold grip of fear washed over Adeline, a shiver ran down her spine, and she got a glimpse of something in her periphery. Whatever it was, it was large, and seemed to move impossibly fast. Adeline knew that she was in over her head, and quickened her pace, hoping to reach the campus before she came face to face with whatever it was that was stalking her.

Adeline made her way to the end of the street, and took a corner which brought her within a block of the campus, and froze in terror at what she saw standing in front of her. Before she could react, her attacker assaulted her with a flurry of it’s clawed hand, slicing through the soft flesh of her arms and torso. Adeline tried to run, but her attacker was all over her, pinning her to the ground and continuing to rip at her flesh with it’s claws and teeth. Adeline screamed out in pain as the beast sank its teeth into her shoulder, then the beast reared back ran its claws across her neck and tearing her throat out with one swift motion.

Then as quickly as the attack had begun, it was over. The beast was gone, leaving Adeline to bleed out on the sidewalk. As she lay dying, off in the distance she could hear the beast which had attacked her crying out with a primal howl, which was the last thing she heard as her world went dark.