Hitman

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

_{Peterson Estates
Passenger Island, Castleburg
Status: Infiltrating
Speaks to: Dahlia @baraquiel, Stray @rabidporcupine
On a mission with: Wireframe @Silver Carrot, Bastion @Infinite Cosmos, Dahlia @baraquiel, Gematria @Scarifar, Alchemist @Duoya, and apparently Stray @rabidporcupine}

Apparently, Professor Gholem's kill-bots were rejected not because they were too dangerous, but perhaps because they were too safe. With great simplicity, Stray had dispatched several robots with his pre-prepared runes, and Dahlia several more with her blasts of acid. Blast, for his part, had very efficiently roundhouse-kicked the last remaining killbot into oblivion with a barrage of attacks so quick and vicious that it seemed almost comical. He stood over his downed electronic robot, before looking around the room that was filled with scraps and hunks of destroyed and acid-melted metal. Not too shabby for a day's work.

"Well, that's like, what, 75% of the mission taken care of? Badabing, badaboom," Jake said confidently, stretching his arms. "Why don't we look around for some type of computer? Gholem's whole villain thing is being, like, a massive nerd. He has to have some type of device around here that he does his nerd stuff on." Jake walked around the room, examining the tables, and fortunately, he was able to quickly find said “nerd stuff device,” a laptop sitting atop one of the workbenches in the room.

Jake looked at the two other people in the room- one of them was a longtime assassin, and the other was somebody that Jake had seen at HERO One struggle to figure out the basic uses of a cell phone- and made the executive decision to be the one to open the laptop. Luckily for him, Gholem clearly had not expected visitors and left the device unlocked. Not like it would’ve been particularly difficult to access the device in the right hands, but it did make it easier in the moment.

Jake was not exactly a computer whiz in any sense, but he did know how to open tabs, and the first tab that pulled up on the screen was disturbing. Particularly because what had just come up in his face…was his face. All of their faces. It was profiles of the heroes, including the people who were on this mission. Information about their lives, their powers, their capabilities, their records, everything.

"Shit."

Jake removed a device that had the shape and design of a thumb drive and slotted it into the side of the device. "ALISA, we got Dr. Robotnik’s laptop, and he has what looks like HERO files. Any ideas?"

”First, a possible security breach, and now this,” the disembodied female voice said exhaustedly, if it were possible for artificial intelligence to grow tired. ”I’ll forward everything to the Boss and to Wiseman, but he had to have had access to this information well in advance. We’re probably looking at a mole of some kind. Not good.”

"That…would be bad,” Jake said lamely, sneaking a glance at the two people in the room. He quickly decided that neither of them were the mole; otherwise, he probably would’ve been poisoned or origami’d to death. (Truth be told, Jake didn’t exactly know what Stray’s powers did.)

”An understatement, to say the least. We’ll figure this out. In the meanwhile, you should probably go help the rest of your team. They aren’t doing nearly so well as you are right now.”

"Can do.” Jake looked down at the unconscious Professor Gholem, before looking up at his two colleagues. "You guys should go find them. I’ll make sure to get Dr. Doom here into a place that he can’t crawl away from, and then I’ll catch up. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

"I’m glad we’re in agreement," the woman said with a sinister look on her face. "And for the record, I’m not going to entertain any movie-talk, or the usual reparte where you insist I won’t get away with it and I happily respond that I will. I’ve had enough of that already."

"Let’s run through the sequence of events here. You two will stay put in this office and wait. I already have somebody cutting the power to the room, so don’t think about any type of electrical trickery. Instead, I’m just going to walk outside and lock the door. And if any of your friends try to come, they’ll have to come up the stairs, which means they’ll run right into an attachment of invisible guards. And then, well…" Ada ran a finger over her neck. "One way in, right into the jaws of defeat. Oh, and of course, if I hear any commotion coming from this room…" She adjusted the ring on her finger. "You know what happens. Now, make yourself comfortable. Might be a little wait."

Ada walked out of the room, followed by the attachment of guards. The study doors shut behind them. One of the guards took his position outside the doorway to the study, the other three, as Ada had indicated, disappeared from sight, perhaps positioning themselves at the top of the grand staircase to catch any unsuspecting heroes off-guard.
However, Ada’s theory did have a couple major flaws in it. Namely, the fact that while the grand staircase was the only good entrance upstairs, it wasn’t the only one. The same air duct that Gematria had crawled in from was still perfectly wide open, and the study had multiple windows that, while quite high up in the air, were certainly still ways in and out of the room.

---

_{Outside Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant
Brookside, Castleburg
Being observed: Crane @Zoey Boey, Lab Rat @Silver Carrot, Blur Rabbit @DClassified, Ardent @manythings, Terraformer @shylarah, Freakshow @Crusader Lord, Mire @Blizz}

Outside of the facility, though the Terrazards were now rabidly running back into the building and leaping suicidally into the flames in a vain attempt to extinguish the blaze, Menace was still battling furiously. Crane’s knee hammering into his stomach was certainly causing him what appeared to be a great deal of pain, but Menace had his own response. As the two were grappling with their arms, Crane had introduced her knee into the equation, but Menace had a different approach.

He brought his massive head directly into Crane’s chin, his slightly smaller stature being useful in that sense, as he uppercutted her using his tremendously thick skull. With that move, Menace hoped that he would be able to bring the larger woman-giant down pin her before going for the fatal kill. Whatever the result of his strike may be, though, it was interrupted by the fungus that was crawling up Menace’s leg and torso. This was confusing to the addled ape-like creature, who swung around, trying and failing to escape the grasp of the mycota, and leaving him perfectly open for a finishing strike.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Ardent may have been trying to find new ways to close the gap with Torch, but success was hard to come by in this department. Doc Holliday had tried a similar technique to keep the flying hero at bay, but Doc Holliday was an older man with two antiquated revolvers. Torch, on the other hand, seemed untouchable. As Ardent swooped towards him, looking to grab onto the hero, Torch once again dodged with cat-like reflexes, firing a few more homing fireballs at Ardent as he blasted past him.

"You’re going to have to do better than that, hero!" the maniacal villain called out, turning to face the flying man. "Face it, there’s-...what the?"

The room had suddenly cooled down significantly. The temperature inside what was previously a swlteringly-hot area (from the searing fires, obviously) was now only modestly stuffy, and more interesting, it was raining. Water was pouring down from the sky, trickling down onto Ardent and Torch’s head and puddling throughout the room, extinguishing the many fires with loud hisses and causing Torch to go into a full-on panic.

”How is this-" Torch vainly attempted to fire a few more fireballs, but his pyrokinetic attacks were stifled by the falling water, which had gone from a shower to a deluge of pouring water that filled the expansive facility almost knee high. Torch stumbled through the water, his fingers flickering with sparks, as he tried to muster up some of his powers, and then-

SWIT!

For Ardent, what happened next was quite jarring: in an instant, the sensation of cold water on his skin was replaced with the familiar searing heat of fire, and the vision of the flooded recycling plant was replaced with the reality of the rapidly-smoldering building. It was as if Ardent had fallen asleep for a moment and had a dream about Torch getting absolutely soaked in the moment. And speaking of Torch, he was no longer attacking or even laughing; rather, he was laying face-first on the ground, a large dart sticking out of the back of his neck.

Furthermore, there was a new sight in the room: the woman who had previously been watching them from the water tower. The ICOSA inspector was looking surprisingly menacing for somebody that probably spent most of her days filing reports: she was adorned in a platinum-black bodysuit that zipped all the way up her neck, her scoped rifle was slung over her back, and in her hand she was holding some type of pistol that, with appropriate context clues, appeared to have been the weapon that had fired the dart which was currently sticking out of Torch’s neck.

Mari holstered her sidearm as she looked over at Ardent. "Next time, you probably should’ve gotten closer to him underground. You know the ground is, at least, easily drillable, possibly hollow. If you came out right under him, would’ve been a lot quicker fight." She pursed her lips after she issued the critique; perhaps she had quickly realized that the inside of a burning building was neither the time or place for battle commentary.

"Well, good enough, I suppose,” she quipped, her vowels having a slightly unique tone that betrayed the fact that English was not her first language. "You should make yourself useful and try and carry him out of here. Better you than me."

Mari was alluding to the approximately full foot of height that Ardent had over the more diminutive ICOSA agent, which made all the more peculiar the fact that she was very nearly bossing him around after her belated arrival to the fight. Still, she had shown up after all. If only they would know how much it had hurt her to go against her orders.

---

_{HERO Three
East Flank, Castleburg
Nearby: Backup @Zoey Boey, Fallout @Aku the Samurai, Wiseman @Blizz}

The device that Backup had stepped on crinkled easily as the heroine destroyed it. Apparently, whoever had built the device had not invested in its durability.

Another source of noise now made itself known on the roof, but this time, instead of coming from the hijacked television, it came from the helicopter. "Surprised to see more arrivals. Truth be told, I expected you to disable the device quicker, but your performance was adequate enough for me to entertain some more challenges." The taunting, distorted voice coming from the helicopter was replaced by what sounded like clicking of a keyboard. "Backup, correct? Interesting that you were the first one to make it onto the roof. Especially interesting that you're arbitrarily trapped with two far superior intellects, at least IQ-wise. It'll be interesting to see how you deal with this. Initiate Protocol 12J-3."

Above them, a small drones (this might've been how the voice was watching Backup from the roof) did a loop around the HERO Three rooftop before landing on a rooftop adjacent to the one that the heroes were climbing up, with a solid 20 or 30 foot gap between them. The drone had deposited some type of black box on the rooftop, and said black box began to deconstruct itself, shifting and moving like it had a mind of its own, until it had constructed itself into the form of what appeared to be a small turret.

Said turret then began to shoot at Backup, firing one round precisely every 5 seconds and following the heroine across the rooftop. It was extremely evident that whoever was responsible for this hacking attack on HERO Three was messing with Backup; well, messing with all of them. Whether or not this was purely to buy time, or collect data, or just have some good old deranged villain fun was unknown. Perhaps it was a combination of all three.

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

_{HERO Three
East Flank, Castleburg
Nearby: Backup @Zoey Boey, Fallout @Aku the Samurai, Wiseman @Blizz}

As Fallout and Wiseman swapped places, Magician also emerged from his hidey-hole office as well. ”Wrapping up here?” he asked with a coy smirk, as he pulled a card- what appeared to be the Ten of Diamonds to the attentive, albeit with strange markings inscribed all over it- from his coat pocket, twirling it within his fingers like one of those fidget spinners. ”Oh, joy. Well, take care of yourselves, heroes,” he said as the card flashed before exploding into smoke, smoke that promptly enveloped Magician. By the time it cleared, he had vanished into thin air, like Batman, if Batman were a lame card-wielding British code enforcement officer.

Dr. Reininger also emerged from her office, catching the tail end of Magician's little disappearing act. "You can take a seat there. I just need to run and use the rest-"

It was at that moment that the lights went out.

The psychologist looked around nervously in the dark for a moment, wary of some type of attack, before sighing. "Well, I suppose it might be difficult to conduct an examination with no lights. Hopefully I can navigate my way out of here and back without them," she said disappointedly, walking over to the door. Yet as soon as the psychologist touched the handle that led out of the small waiting room area, her body jolted like it had been hit with a thousand volts of electricity, before she then crinkled on the floor in a ball.

The "electric door handle" had been one of ALISA's innovations, and served as a security measure and, more often, as a tool for pranking unsuspecting heroes. It obviously had not been enabled that door when the heroes came in, which meant that either ALISA was fully going rogue, or somebody else was calling the shots here.

That answer would come a moment later, as the TV- which prior to the lights going out, had been playing some mundane episode of The Bachelor in the background- flickered back to life, the glow of the screen serving as the only illumination in the lobby, which due to the setting sun had very little natural light filtering in through the windows. The TV screen was now displaying what appeared to be somebody else's computer screen, which had a number of open tabs that were being pulled on and off the screen so quickly it was hard to keep track of. Somebody was showing their work here.

A voice came in through the TV speakers. It sounded like a female voice, perhaps, though it was under so many layers of voice modification that it was really hard to tell. "Apologies for the intrusion. I simply need to keep you contained in order to prevent you from interfering with my plans. And also from escaping the range of the signal blocker. Please remain seated." The person behind the screen chuckled. "Hey, but at least I got you out of therapy, right? That should count for something."

Indeed, it did seem as though the person speaking through the television was telling the truth, as Wiseman's signals were being interfered with. Somebody had set up some type of signal jamming device within the vicinity of HERO Three that was preventing the technology-based hero from communicating with anybody via technology. Whoever this somebody was clearly knew about Wiseman's interference in the other concurrently-running HERO operations, and was attempting to cut them off and buy time for whoever their allies were to attack without technological help. Whoever this person was, though, remained a mystery. Even if Wiseman had a way of using a signal-based device to try and trace the source of the intruder, he would've just found himself on the receiving end of an annoying number of computer viruses and pop-up ads for male enhancement pills.

The question remained, where was this device?

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

While the roof of HERO One was equipped with a number of both security measures as well as landing and launching spots for numerous means of cross-city aerial transportation, the roof of HERO Three was mostly barren and hardly stuck out from the rest of the East Flank skyscape, barring a singular helipad that allowed for occasional aerial landings on the smaller HERO base. Generally, not many people landed on top of HERO Three, outside of the periodic flying hero that didn't even need the pad to begin with. This evening, though, the helipad was occupied by a single helicopter that was all jet-black, barring for a red spider logo spray-painted on the side. Standing on the roof were four men, dressed in all black body armor, though each was wearing a distinctive red beret, mask, and armband with the same spider logo as on their method of transportation. The men were standing around a cylindrical device, about 4 feet in height, that had a little satellite dish of some sort perched on top.

After a few moments of silence, one of the men spoke. "This is getting boring. Guard the little wi-fi router thingy. We got guys stationed all across the city and this is what we get assigned to do?"

One of the other men glared at him. "Pipe down, Rodriguez. This 'router thing' is important. It's a signal jammer. Keeps the heroes from communicating with the guy inside."

"Why don't we just shoot the guy inside?"

"The other half of our squad is going inside right now to shoot him. Do you pay attention to anything?"

"Well, why aren't we with them?"

The senior grunt hung his head. "To guard the motherfucking device. How stupid are you?"

"I'm just saying," the other grunt said disappointedly. "We should be helping them kill the hero. What's going to happen? A pigeon craps on the device? The wind blows it off the roof? A sneaky hero jumps over the edge like Spiderman? Come on."

"Hey, you never know," the senior shot back. "Now, guns out. We got a job to do, and if you want to see this through, stay alert."

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

_{Peterson Estates
Passenger Island, Castleburg
Status: Infiltrating
Speaks to: Dahlia @baraquiel, Stray @rabidporcupine
On a mission with: Wireframe @Silver Carrot, Bastion @Infinite Cosmos, Dahlia @baraquiel, Gematria @Scarifar, Alchemist @Duoya, and apparently Stray @rabidporcupine}

"Listen, my people-deducing skills are fine," Jake fired back as he looked through the wine cellar, examining its contents. Jake knew that wine could get expensive, but this was a whole new level of expensive- he swore he saw a price tag for over 5 digits. "I bet if I had, like, brown hair, and blue eyes, and all that, then you wouldn't know who I was." Jake pushed down on a button that just turned on an overhead light. So far, nothing.

Luckily, Eva was able to find something by pulling down a wine bottle, and revealed a secret passageway out of the wine room. Unfortunately, that secret passageway was guarded with CCTV, but Eva quickly melted the camera. Hopefully, the guy that was watching the monitors was on break or something.

"Yea, we should get going-" Jake started, before hearing a thumping sound. He crouched his knees, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Someone’s coming."

Fortunately for Jake, the person that barged through the wine cellar door was not a platoon of armed guards, but instead a single person, seemingly blind, that was speaking to them in an Irish accent. The person then switched into a more normal voice and began speaking to the duo as if he knew them, something that Jake could not say he did. Maybe Eva was right about him having bad people-deducing skills after all. By the time the man finished speaking, though, it all clicked to him.

"Johnathan, right? " Jake asked with a knowing grin, despite the fact that he had gotten the man’s name wrong. "Hey, didn’t know you were coming. Could’ve given us more of a heads-up." Jake shrugged at his fellow hero’s last comment. "Things seem pretty good to me. We got caught on camera, but you’re the only person that’s come to greet us so far. Though, like Eva said, we should probably get a move on, ASAP." Jake peered down the hallway. "I’ll go down first and check for traps. Eves, Jeff, you guys back me up." And with that, Jake disappeared in the blink of an eye, vanishing with a blur down the opened secret entrance.

The secret path was not a very long one, meaning that Jake didn’t gain too much ground on his companions, and fortunately, there were no traps (at least, that had yet reared their heads). Instead, Jake was confronted by another door, this one that looked like it was made of heavy metal. However, the door opened with just a gentle push. Jake shrugged. It seemed a bit too easy, but he wasn’t going to question it. Peterson’s security had yet to prove themselves to be top-notch yet.

Jake walked into the room that was so well-hidden in the mansion. It was quite the expansive underground space, the size of a warehouse lot, with stone-gray walls and absolutely zero natural lighting. In fact, there was hardly any artificial lighting either, a sort of dim fluorescence from a few ceiling lights giving the room an eerie shadiness to it. The room looked like it was a workshop, albeit a haphazardly-designated one, with most of the room being lined with what appeared to be metal scraps and other junk. Jake walked cautiously through the warehouse space, looking at some of the tables that were there. Mostly just welded pieces of metal, though there were a few of what looked like full metal arms and possibly rudimentary weapons laying about. Directly across the room from the metal door that they entered from was what appeared to be a garage door, though it was currently closed. The concrete floor had a few reddish stains that could have been blood, but might also have been red paint.

"This is weird," he whispered out loud as he stood again, now folding his arms as he began to pace the room. "Something about all of this is really…off. Peterson leaves, they send us to the wine cellar and leave us here alone, which is the one place that is conveniently connected to the creepy workshop underneath his estate. And then they leave the door unlocked.” Jake looked over at his two fellow heroes. "You guys should check on the others. I’ll stay here and make sure nothing sketchy happens. I have a bad-"

The metal door suddenly slammed shut.

"-...fuck, why do I even try."

As the one door closed, the other door, the one that looked like a garage on the opposite side of the room, began to open. And from that door emerged a number of what appeared to be humanoid robots. The robots resembled humans in body structure, being bipedal, with two arms, a metal ahead, and being roughly the size of Jake, maybe a little taller. They did seem be some sort of prototype design, though, as they had very little armoring on their frames, mostly consisting of exposed pipes and wires, and their heads were just a metal sphere with a red camera-lens eye on the middle, also with exposed wires linking it to their bodies. The robots did have arms that had weapons attached to them, like they had gun hands or something of that sort.

Joining the group of maybe 6 or 7 robots was a balding man with a scruffy beard wearing a labcoat, holding what appeared to be a large remote control of some kind in his hand. Jake vaguely recognized the image from Wiseman’s briefing nearly a month ago, and from the “WANTED” images that HERO had posted on a number of billboards throughout the city. This funny-looking science man was Jon Gholem.

"Finally. Some new prey," the mad scientist said as he adjusted a few buttons on his remote. The robots that accompanied him in his entourage fidgeted slightly. "And superhumans too. This will be an excellent demonstration for my new Killbot prototypes. With luck- AARGH!"

That was all that he said, as Jake, with a burst of superhuman speed, blasted across the room and slammed his fist directly into Gholem’s face. The smaller man was smashed into the concrete ground, hit the floor face-first, and stopped moving. Jake dusted off his hands.

"Well, there we go. Dude needs to turn on the robots before monologuing," Jake said with a smirk. ”Now hopefully he didn’t turn the things on before I-"

Once again, though, Jake’s sentiments were interrupted as one of the Killbots lifted their weapon-arms and attempted to blast him. If Jake hadn’t been a speedster, he probably would’ve been splattered across the wall, but fortunately his quick reaction time allowed him to spin out of the way, sliding in front of his companions. Two jinxes in one room, back to back. Unlucky day for Blast.

"Well, this shouldn’t be that hard," Jake said to himself as he reached into his suit pocket, pulling out his pair of HERO’s specially-designed brass knuckles and sliding them on. "Easy as you can expect. Couple of dumb robots. Eva, just melt them, and Jordan, do whatever you do. Throw paper at them or something. Then I’ll have personally kicked the ass of two out of five of the Fiendish Five. Which I say is pretty good."

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Rupa’s pleas did not seem to affect Peterson, whose finger itched closer and closer to the trigger. Fortunately for her, the voltage that Gematria had packed into her new taser weapon did. Peterson flailed his arms about wildly as he was tased, firing off two rounds from his pistol, though both of them weren’t close to even grazing Rupa, the bullets instead burying themselves into the floor and through an autographed and framed picture of Peterson standing with Mr. T on the set of Rocky 3 that was mounted on Peterson’s wall. After being shocked, the man went limp, falling back into his office chair and snoozing.

From behind Rupa, the sound of quiet applause could be heard. "Oh, poor, dumb, stupid Sam. Really put on a show there."

Ada Peterson had pushed the doors to the study open, sauntering across the room as if the sight of her tazed and unconscious husband didn’t bother her in the slightest. "Even with all that work, he still ends up being a nuisance. Oh, well. Boys, you can come in, now."

As soon as Peterson finished her sentence, four men suddenly shimmered into view, standing rigidly along the walls of the study, as if they had been there all along (perhaps they had). Each of them looked like they were SWAT, each of them wearing jet black body armor, but they were also adorned with a red beret, a balaclava, and an armband with the image of a spider on it. They were also each holding what appeared to be some type of assault rifle. Peterson walked to the center of the room. "Nice to meet you by the way, Ms. Paksha. One of my benefactors will be very interested in meeting you. But let’s cut to the chase before one of you gets too trigger-happy, yes?" Peterson smiled with a dark grin. "Ignoring the fact that you’re outgunned here, I think you recognize that poor Sam is nothing more than a puppet. One that, as of tonight, seems to have run its course. Except as leverage." Ada Peterson lifted her hand to reveal a spider-shaped ring wrapped around her finger. "I press this, and you can kiss innocent, stupid Mr. Peterson goodbye. Do exactly as I say, and you won’t have to worry about reliving your…woes with hostage situations. Is that understood?"

Peterson turned away from Rupa, not disclosing any of the answers to the questions of who her employer was, what happened to Mr. Peterson, and how she knew about the HERO One situation with the Fiendish Five. She instead directed her attention towards the little robot on the desk. "And that goes for you too. You stick that thing anywhere near me, and you’ll have the blood of an innocent man on your ledger forever. So I suggest you let the poor man sleep and come with me. He’s had a long day."

---

_{Outside Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant
Brookside, Castleburg
Being observed: Crane @Zoey Boey, Lab Rat @Silver Carrot, Blur Rabbit @DClassified, Ardent @manythings, Terraformer @shylarah, Freakshow @Crusader Lord, Mire @Blizz}

The creature known as Menace grappled intensely with Crane. Crane may have been thinking about the city or her teammates and allowing those thoughts to shift her plans, but Menace seemed pretty intent on only violence to the other massive creature in the vicinity, and he seemed to be pretty successful. Despite being a good few feet shorter than Ting, Menace was shockingly strong, much stronger than he seemed, and that was saying something, given that he seemed like a giant magic gorilla kaiju.

Menace’s monkey-like paws grabbed onto Crane’s elbows as he continued to push against her, but he also began to squeeze on her joints with his hands. And with his unholy amount of strength, it would’ve began to hurt, even for such a massive human like Crane.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Back inside the plant, the fight was not going so well for the Azure Skulls.

Things One and Two ended up lasting for an even shorter time than they did in their namesake children’s book. Ardent’s street sign pancaked at least one half of the duo, causing a bunch of clones to, on contact, poof into dust, and one of the twins to be launched into the ground. The other twin perhaps could have began duplicating himself, but he seemed more concerned with his brother. The young, inexperienced villain cradled his twin in his arms. "No, Steve, don’t go into the light!" he shouted through tears. Whether or not Ardent came to finish the job, he seemed like he had much bigger fish to fry.

Clearly, they weren’t exactly cut out for the job. Fighting heroes was hard, and the two had only used their powers to rob convenience stores, steal cars, and beat up on some low-level heroes before. Somebody of Ardent’s caliber was, frankly, way out of their reach.

Clearly, Torch was not doing much better in his own fight. As Freakshow rushed him down, he continued to backpedal, launching fireball after fireball at the woman and probably melting some of that extraneous skin stuff off. But it was clear that he was nowhere near capable enough to deal with someone of Freakshow’s caliber. He could make fire, but he wasn’t able to bring nearly enough heat to deal with his opponent. The fleshy monstrosity smashed into Torch, causing him to careen across the room, flip over a conveyer belt, and smash into the wall.

For somebody that had just been bodied, though, Torch seemed awfully amused, giggling as he sat in his corner of the room. "Oh, Cadaver. You were always more impressive than me, I must admit. What a power." He laughed to himself maniacally some more behind his pyro mask. "But the time has come."

Torch reached behind him, pulling out his own needle, just like the ones Things One and Two had injected into Menace. Instead of injecting it into somebody else, though, Torch jammed the needle into his own abdomen. And just like his simian-esque ally, Torch gave his own blood-curling scream, though it came out as muffled and distorted from behind the mask. His gloved hands grasped at his head, scratching against the rubbery material that composed the mask as he slowly stood from his position against the wall.

And then, suddenly, it got hot. Really hot. Intolerably hot. The entire plant shot up significantly in temperature as Torch staggered in a small circle, giving another eerie scream. Once he lowered his hands from his position and looked over at the heroes, he seemed to have regained some semblance of self-control as he raised both his hands.

Tongues of fire erupted from his fingertips, the amount of fire now putting his puny fireballs from earlier to shame as they danced across the room, lighting machinery, plastics, and even the walls of the facility ablaze. The entire building began to smolder as Torch, laughing maniacally all the way, spun around, sending jets of fire across the entire building. Smoke began to fill the room as well, though thanks to the dilapidated state of the building as well as Menace’s grand exit, much of it was billowing out through the various openings.
Torch nearly screeched with insane excitement as he now directed his attention at the heroes. He didn’t even offer snippy dialogue, instead just sending blasts of fire, much larger, hotter, and more rapid than his earlier fireballs, at every form of life that was remotely in his line of sight inside the rapidly-burning building.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Mari watched with shock as Crane and the gorilla-man grappled, and in even more shock as the entire recycling plant lit on fire. Plastics on fire was an ecological nightmare, the Leftover/Menace combination posed an enormous danger to the city, and while HERO had some capable people in their employ, this was staggering. It was insane.

Mari clenched her teeth. She was going to do something she would probably regret, but at this point, she didn’t see much of an alternative. Even if she stuck to orders, she would have to get involved with whatever was causing the fire and whatever was controlling the Leftovers came for her before spilling into the city. And so she tapped her ear. "Spencer, I’m going in. That’s final."

”Marisol, you can’t. I’ll be there soon. There’s-”

Mari removed her earpiece, tossing it off the water tower, before resting her rifle against the surface. Some things, you just had to do yourself.

---

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

_{Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant
Brookside, Castleburg
Being observed: Crane @Zoey Boey, Lab Rat @Silver Carrot, Blur Rabbit @DClassified, Ardent @manythings, Terraformer @shylarah, Freakshow @Crusader Lord, Mire @Blizz}

As the group of heroes at the recycling plant splintered, Torch smiled beneath his mask. Though nobody could see it, it was a deranged smile, the type of smile that lacked kindness and only contained twisted pleasure. The type of smile that was right to hide behind a mask. The newly-minted leader of the 'Azure Skulls' stood slowly walked towards the group of heroes that had entered through the hole. As he did so, the Terrazards that were rapidly scuttling out like bugs stopped their assault, as if they had just been commanded to do so. Granted, there were enough Terrazards outside that dealing with them was still a relevant priority, but this at least seemed to signal who was in control here.

"Welcome, heroes," he said, his voice oozing the type of overconfidence that was endemic amongst villains. He turned to face Freakshow, staring at her behind the mask. "Welcome home, Cadaver. I'm glad you were able to make it inside our humble abode."

"Unfortunately for me and my friends, we are indeed outnumbered and outmatched. It would be best for us to surrender. But luckily, our benefactors- the ones that asked us to defend this hole-" He gestured towards the massive hole in the ground. It probably wasn't a good play to reveal all this information, but villains were going to villain, especially deluded, crazy ones. "-have also gifted us some technology. Two important pieces. Number one." Torch tapped what appeared to be a black box that looked similar in size and design to a walkie-talkie. "A Leftover control synchronizer designed by a very capable scientist in their employ. But the tricks get better. Boys, use the device."

One of the twins looked surprised. "You sure, boss?"

"Yes. Go, now." Torch quickly lifted a hand, procuring an intense fireball in his palm in case any of the heroes tried to interrupt his monologue. If they had, the sudden burst of heat would be enough to at least surprise them. "I hope you enjoyed the appetizer, because I say it's about time we had the full course meal."

As Torch made his food-related analogy, the pair of criminally-minded twins quickly ran over to the hooded man on the couch. One of them was holding what appeared to be a gun with a hypodermic needle that was filled with some type of mysterious blue liquid. The twin then jabbed the needle into the ribcage of the hooded man on the couch, injecting the fluid into him.

Immediately, the man on the couch began to howl like he was in immense pain, grabbing at his forehead and clutching it like the fluid had caused a sudden migraine. He unleashed a shockingly loud howl that might've even been heard outside of the facility. And then, suddenly, he began to grow. Larger and larger. His clothes were, of course, torn asunder, revealing somebody that looked barely human, even less human than any case file could anticipate. The man resembled some type of orangutan or great ape, with long, dirty wine-colored hair that thickly matting almost every inch of his body and a face that looked more simian than human. More importantly, the man was still growing, going from his already respectable height to 10 feet to 15 feet to 20 something odd feet, now towering over all the humans in the recycling plant.

The HERO files had listed somebody called "the Menace" that had appeared to have some type of ape-like mutation resulting from the Hero Gene. Whoever this hulking beast was, was not that person. The person known as "the Menace" had never grown above 10 feet tall or looked nearly this feral or ape-like. The substance in the syringe had done something, that was for sure.

Torch chuckled madly. "Now, where were we? Oh, right. Killing you all." The fireball that was flickering in his hand now grew even larger and hotter. "Go forth, Terrazards! Go forth, Menace! Kill these heroes! Just leave Cadaver to me."

Torch adjusted his gask mask with his free hand as he turned his attention towards Freakshow. "Do you remember me, Cadaver? Or do you go by Luna? Or something else?" He laughed maniacally once again. This was a man that had completely lost his marbles in every conceivable way. "Whoever you are, I'm about to show you what happens when you leave people to die. You get burned." And with that ominous threat, Torch lobbed the fireball he had been so carefully procuring directly at Luna.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

As Torch gave his little speech, the man/creature known as the Menace, still seemingly not having recovered from whatever was in the needle, lumbered around the room, still clutching his head. He gave a loud moan, before suddenly rushing towards one of the walls of the recycling plant.

Of course, no recycling plant was built to withstand the force of a massive, chemically-enhanced monkey-man running at a dead sprint, and he burst clean through the wall, causing a massive cloud of dust and likely Asbestos to explode outwards, pluming into the darkening Brookside sky. The Menace looked around the outside of the plant as the Terrazards, once again seeming to be under the spell of whatever was commanding them, rushed out, scuttling past the Menace's feet.

The Menace squinted as he continued to search, before his eyes locked onto Ting Feng. Despite having grown to an enormous size, Ting Feng was still probably a good few feet taller. And thus, she was a target. The Menace gave one more roar before charging into battle on all fours, preparing to take down the fellow massive being. There could only be one, after all.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Meanwhile, the twins known as Things One and Two were approaching two of the other heroes that were still inside the plant. One of them was holding a lead pipe, the other one was holding what appeared to be a handheld taser.

"Look, bro, we get the two lamest heroes. Lame Rat and...Lamedent. Sorry, didn't think of a name on time."

"It's alright, bro. Let's show these suckers how it's done."

And with that low-grade villainous commentary, the twins looked at each other, and suddenly, two more twins popped out from behind the two that were already standing there, like some type of really ugly magic trick. And then, another pair of twins from each of them. Suddenly, there were eight identical-looking humans standing there, all of them looking not unlike Eminem from 8 Mile, and all of them armed with some type of weapon. And with that little trick, they jumped at Ardent and Lab Rat, charging head on.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

The woman known as Chimera looked visibly disturbed as the massive hulking beast emerged from the wall of the recycling plant. This was not what she had signed up to supervise. A few Terrazards, OK. Some basic-level goons from a local gang, fine. But this was a whole new level of danger. Mari pressed her earpiece. "Magician, this is Chimera. We have a possible level 8 danger situation here. I'm aborting the mission and preparing to deliver suppressing fire."

A moment later, the smarmy British voice responded. ”Negative, my dear. Stay the course. This is an excellent opportunity to observe how HERO responds to dangerous situations.”

"Spencer, this goes beyond a dangerous situation. If HERO fails, the immediate area is in danger. I can deal with this situation."

”I'm well aware that you can, Marisol. But again, this gives us prime data for HERO's job performance. Which is our ultimate goal. I won't negotiate with you any further. This is a direct order. Go outside of your mission parameters, and you know what happens. As much as I hate to admit it, you're very replaceable.”

The woman on the water tower scowled. c she said through a scowl, her little fists clenching frustratedly on the grip of the sniper rifle.

"Thank you, dear. I know it might be difficult, but you have to let HERO try. If they can't fight their way into the tunnels, then the city would be in far more danger with them here then without. I know you understand me well. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to make a quick phone call."

Mari put her finger back near the trigger of the gun, eyeing the situation through the scope. She then furrowed her brow as she thought about what Randolph had said, lifting the sniper rifle from its position and resting it on her knee vertically.

What tunnels?

---

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

_{Peterson Estates
Passenger Island, Castleburg
Status: Getting his groove on
Speaks to: Dahlia @baraquiel
On a mission with: Wireframe @Silver Carrot, Bastion @Infinite Cosmos, Dahlia @baraquiel, Gematria @Scarifar, Alchemist @Duoya}

Jake smirked playfully as the woman responded, taking her by the hand. All the other stuff she said about their 'goals aligning' and 'telling him everything he wanted to hear,' which perhaps should have at the very least gotten Jake thinking about this woman's identity, were silenced by Jake's man-brain turning into overdrive. "I think that can be arranged. And I do have a way with my feet. I just hope that you don't slow me down," Jake teased back, as his eyes scanned the room. He did notice Madison pairing up with...was that Toreador? Wow, she really understood the goal of the assignment- she had sweet-talked her way all the way to the top. Toreador was an interesting sight at the party, but judging by the fact that Powers nor ALISA had not mentioned him, Jake assumed that he was not in the loop about the whole mission. But with his powers...well, he probably was now.

Jake could've probably ditched the woman and went to go help Rupa or Megumi do their own infiltration, given that Madison seemed to have had the same idea with this whole dance situation. But even though Toreador seemed like a classy gentleman type that would probably be good at dancing, this opportunity was too important to allow to pass by. Plus, as mentioned earlier, man-brain.

Jake observed some movement over by the stage, as some of the string instruments were now replaced by some brass and woodwind ones. Clearly a sign for what was to come. Indeed, just a few moments later, Peterson's wife Ada stood in the same spot that he just had before he went away on his business adventure. "I hope you all are ready for the dance of the evening, the paso doble!" She smiled. "You all know the drill! I know Sam usually takes the reigns on this, but it's the same story with me: I point at you, you're done. Last pair surviving wins tonight's prize."She looked over her shoulder at the instrumentalists.
"Hit it!"

The musicians, on cue, went right into the song, a vivacious and fast-paced brass-heavy tune with a sharp, staccato rhythm. Jake quickly straightened his posture and took a deep breath. The song was very fast, much faster than the average waltz or even tango that you would hear, meaning that most people would have to focus on making sure their footwork was on point and on time. Jake had the opposite problem. He was so used to his powers that the world always felt too slow for him, and both when he was and wasn't using his superpowers, he needed to always think slowly. With the dancing, it was no different. Jake had a good ear and did, in fact, have a way with his feet, as it had been so elegantly put. He wasn't a pro, but he was also much younger and more in-shape than most of the wealthy geezers at this event. When he was paired up with somebody else, though, Jake had to be extra-cautious to control his powers, otherwise he would be cha-cha-chaing his way into jail for involuntary manslaughter. Especially if the other person wasn't a metahuman. Jake looked down at the young lady he was partnered with. Definitely not metahuman. He could tell. Though she did have this beauty mark on her face that seemed awfully familiar. Well, a lot of people had those.

As the paso doble song trumpeted along, Jake guided his disguised teammate along with remarkable efficiency and poise. He would've liked to have made the claim that this was all his natural talent, and truthfully, maybe 10% of his dancing performance was. But he also did have the advantage of cheating, as ALISA, who Wiseman had allowed into the security mainframe of the estate, was watching the event through the cameras, and had been providing Jake with some pretty clear instructions to "turn, step, back, forward, turn, back, forward, slide, turn," and so on. With those instructions hammering into his ears, Jake was able to far outperform his own untrained dancing skills.

Through his peripheral vision, Jake saw the other grouchy rich couples get picked off like flies. He did notice that Toreador and Madison/Wireframe were still in it. Toreador was quite impressive for an old guy, so it seemed, though perhaps being able to anticipate your opponent's next move worked just as well for dancing as it did for combat. Hard to step on toes when you know when said toes were going to be, maybe.

The group remaining on the floor continued to narrow and narrow, and Jake and his mystery (to some) partner persisted. ALISA was really doing a lot of the heavy lifting for Jake, though Jake noticed that his dancing companion was following him quite well. Wouldn't it be funny if she had her own AI telling her how to move too? he thought to himself. The crowd continued to thin, though, until the last two pairs left, incidentally, both included superheroes. Jake and Mystery Lady, and Madison and Toreador. Definitely not the betting favorites, definitely both pairs that had superpowers or other forms of outside help, but hey, when you invite a hero to a party, you shouldn't be too surprised when your party is ruined.

A few instructed twists and turns later, and Ada Peterson pointed her finger at Toreador and Wireframe, ending their campaign and making the winner Blast and Dahlia. Jake wiped his forehead, which was admittedly a little sweaty, and looked at his spontaneous partner with a sweet, though modestly tired, smile. "You're a pretty good dancer. We should totally do that again sometime," he said cheerily, as Ada descended towards the two of them.

"An incredible performance! The two of you were magnificent. Truly well-deserved." Ada clasped her hands together with a big smile. The woman looked like she could've easily been a model; wavy blonde hair, hourglass figure, sunkissed and unblemished skin, the whole shebang. "Why don't you head on down to the wine cellar? Head down that hallway and take the stairwell downstairs on your left; the guards won't bother you. My husband will join you once he's finished with his work business. Oh, he would've loved to see that dance! So good. Fantastic."

"That sounds great to me," Jake said as he swiftly made his way towards the stairwell he was directed to; the guards, indeed, allowed them to pass right by. Jake descended the stairs into the basement slowly. "You know, I'm not really interested in the bottle of wine. You can take that. I might just take a quick detour when I get down there. I never got your name, by the way."

Before Dahlia could respond, though, another voice cut into Jake's ear, speaking onto the communications wavelength that everybody on the manor mission was using. "It's Eva, you know."

"One sec," Jake said to Eva as he turned away, pressing his ear. The irony, of course, being that she was hearing the exact same commentary. "What?"

The communication channel was filled with the semi-creepy sound of the AI’s robotic laughter, that quickly cut off back to the monotonous, cool female voice that ALISA used. "The person you were dancing with. Eva. Evangeline. AKA Dahlia?"

Jake blinked a couple of times, looking at the woman before him. "Umm...well...err..." The dots slowly began to connect in his mind. Why she had a familiar-looking face, why she had seemed kind of surprised when Jake had approached her, why she also said that she had business with Peterson. It also explained why Jake hadn't seen the actual woman around the estates before. As he came to this realization, his face slowly started to turn red as he scratched the back of his head. "Eva! Yeah. Umm. I knew that. Umm. Hi! New hair?" He snapped out of his embarrassed stupor- at least partially- a few seconds later. "Right. Well, now that we're here, umm...what were we doing here again? Oh right. Somewhere down here there's some hidden space, right? So maybe we should, y'know, push some walls and see if there's a hidden doorway or something."

Before he turned to do this, his face still a little red, he gave a half grin. "Good job keeping up with me, though."

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

If Toreador, on the other hand, was disappointed by his loss, he didn't show it. He gave some courteous applause as the winners were announced, before quickly picking up a glass of champagne and approaching Wireframe once again, sipping the narrow flute slowly as he looked down at the much younger heroine.

"Unfortunate defeat; I was looking forward to depriving old Sam from another piece of his collection. But as for you... impressive footwork nonetheless. A damned good effort for somebody that is, well, a little out of touch. Your colleagues- our colleagues, I suppose- will be happy with their spoils, and I think you should be happy with yourself. Not just for this whole dance situation, but..." He took a long, slow sip from his glass. "I'm familiar with your background. You're a very marketable type of young woman. Interesting power, the look and personality of somebody that can be a star, and most importantly, an excellent attitude. I think you're turning yourself into some prime Junker material. Or at least, you're on the road towards something like that."

Toreador continued. "If I could offer some advice? Be careful about the type of people you choose to associate yourself with. I know 'people can change' and all that nonsense, but the truth is, who you were growing up remains with you. Take your colleague, Dahlia, for instance." Toreador craned his neck in the general direction of where the disguised woman had departed. "She is somebody that, try as she might, could never dare to escape her past. She's ashamed of who she is, and to cope with that, she continues living out her life but under the facade of being a superhero. It may sound like a harsh truth, my dear, but there are some of us who were just destined for greatness." Toreador looked down at Wireframe, his steely eyes not betraying a single hint of emotion. "I think you could be one of those people. With some careful cultivation of image and, of course, keeping up your hard work."

Toreador finished his drink, now twirling the empty glass between his fingers expertly, like it was some type of fidget toy. The fancy crystal probably cost less to him than a cheap fidget toy would to the average person, in fairness. "Oh, but I don't mean to monologue, just offer some advice. And speaking of advice, listen closely." Toreador's tone, which was already quiet and deep, became even more hushed. "I know Peterson's reputation. He may be a foolish man, but he's no villain. Somebody else is pulling the strings here. Somebody cunning." His hawkish eyes flitted left and right, making sure he wasn't being overheard. "I don't intend on taking any type of action here today, so don't plan on my help. As I said, one's image is crucial to one's success. But I would recommend checking on some of your friends. Both your little friends above-" Toreador raised his index and middle finger up, pointing both at the ceiling, "and below." He now pointed both fingers downstairs. "My powers are rarely wrong, and they're telling me that they might soon be in...grave danger." He looked solemnly at her again, examining her, perhaps probing her thoughts as well. "I'd make a choice if I were you. Oh, and try not to do too much damage to this estate. It's historic."

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Peterson's study was a cozy room upstairs. Dark oak walls and majestically-carpeted floors gave it a sense of regality, but a number of framed posters, both in the news sphere (with a number of framed articles on the walls from the various Peterson enterprises) and from the entertainment sphere (some framed, signed movie posters adorned the wall as well). He also had a big wooden desk with some paperwork on it, his laptop, and strangely, some type of toy robot. "I don't remember leaving that there...huh. I guess the IT guys get more creative every day. Well, better not mess with it." He looked over to Rupa. "I need to take this call, but look at some of these posters while you're at it! Some very exclusive ones. There's me as a young man with Sir Alec Guinness...there's me on the set of The Crow- the original, not the travesty of a remake, though what happened to poor Brandon was awful...oh, and there's me at Cannes! I was actually a feature film juror one year. Anyway, look at some of those memories! Oh, and leave those burgers on my desk." With those commentaries, Peterson took his phone call.

Peterson was certainly a strange fellow, and a self-obsessed one at that, but despite the fact that he loved to talk about himself and that he was taking an important work call while wolfing down his chef's special-made sliders with impunity, there was nothing truly suspicious in the room. Gematria could find records of the transactions that HERO had already uncovered, along with a number of recent investments in a construction company called "Michaels & Co. Contracting Corp" whose only recorded jobs were trying to clean up the old Fixeon Recycling Plant in Brookside, but outside of that, no damning evidence on the phone. And his phone call seemed to be purely newspaper-and-communications company-related. Nothing overly suspicious about that either, outside of the fact, again, that he was literally eating entire slides in one bite. But being disgusting, generally, wasn't a crime.

A few minutes later, Peterson finished the phone call, hanging up and putting his phone away. "Sorry about that. I run a big company, and I have to deal with a lot of unwanted business at unwanted hours." He sighed. "The truth is, business hasn't been that great recently. Expanding out of just doing news and telecommunications and branching into entertainment cost a lot of money that I haven't recouped. There's a lot of trolls out there, too. They really drag business down." He looked down at his desk idly, before looking back at Rupa fondly. "But that's what leads me to you! Here's my proposition." He devoured another whole burger, speaking with his mouth full excitedly. "The guys I have working in Cinepedia and Spoiled Cucumbers and whatnot...they don't take film that seriously, and they're also like me. They're old." He finally swallowed that burger. "I need young people in this business. But not just any young people. Young people that know the industry, and that love movies. Not that 'I see a movie on a date once a month or some nonsense.' People that really, truly, love the cinema and the hard work that goes behind the silver screen." Peterson smiled after completing his grandstanding speech. "I think you have a chance to be that person. And truth be told, well, you remind me a bit of my daughter." He looked down at a photo on his desk. "She's away at college right now, but she has that sort of sharp wit and respect for art that few people your age have anymore. Sometimes I think the world needs more-"

"KILLING!"

Peterson, out of the blue, had changed suddenly. His sclera was now bloodshot and had a distinct yellowish tint to it, his pupils looked almost ragged, he was salivating like he was a rabid dog, and his body was twitching sporadically. He looked at Rupa, hissing like he was some type of snake. "Must. Kill. Hero. You. Hero. Must. DIE!" And with that very sudden change, Peterson reached into his drawer, removing a black handgun. Peterson (or perhaps more aptly "Peterson" at this point) tested the weight of the handgun, before levering it at Rupa. The billionaire then spoke, his normally jovial and pompous voice now entirely replaced with a hissing, raspy-sounding voice. "You have done enough snooping into my business, hero. You, and all your friends, are done here."

He then wrapped his finger around the trigger of the handgun, which was currently aimed right at Rupa's forehead.

---

_{Outside Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant
Brookside, Castleburg
Being observed: Crane @Zoey Boey, Lab Rat @Silver Carrot, Blur Rabbit @DClassified, Ardent @manythings, Terraformer @shylarah, Freakshow @Crusader Lord, Mire @Blizz}

Fortunately for the heroes gathered in Brookside, the stench from the abandoned recycling plant was so bad, that the stench of the fungus-exploded Terrazards might not have been all that bad. It was still really bad, but at least it was a change from the nasty smell in the air that stank of both melted plastics and mildew.

Though Mire had easily dispatched a number of Terrazards, the problem about them wasn't that they were inanely dangerous, but that they just kept coming. Mire's trick had given them a moment of downtime, but that just seemed to be the eye of the storm, as the Terrazards quickly bounced back for Round 2. And bounce back they did. Hordes and hordes of them flooded out of the big hole in the side of the wall of the recycling plant. So much so that, at a certain point, the concern was no longer the lizards. The lizards were dangerous to regular people, but there were a number of heroes, or perhaps even some non-heroes with good enough equipment, that could kill them with ease. The problem was whoever was putting them there in the first place. Terrazards were never present in these large quantities. Maybe small groups. Maybe LARGE groups. Whatever this was, was a veritable army. Who was making this army?

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

"So, is it really true that Cadaver is gonna be here?"

"Yea, bro, that's what the boss said."

"How does the boss know?"

"What, you don't trust him?"

"That's not at all what I said, you lying piece of-"

"Enough, you two."

The piercing voice of the third person silenced the first duo, with his words echoing throughout the large recycling plant. It was, in fact, really big, being a facility that once was supposed to manage the recyclables of some 4 million or so people. The facility's interiors made a warehouse look small. However, it now looked like a total dump- even moreso than it did when it was an actual dump. The concrete floor had broken down and had large areas of exposed dirt. The network of conveyor belts and machinery that ran around the facility was beaten-up and rusty from years of unuse. There were, most importantly, massive piles of junk- mostly crushed plastics, hammered neatly into massive cuboids- piled up against the walls and even in the middle of the facility. The living people that were talking were sitting on a two beaten-up teal sofas that had exposed springs and torn fabric, both of which were positioned next to the most interesting part of the facility. The massive ravine.

The hole in the ground was enormous, large enough that even a giant could fit into it if they were careful. For regular people, there appeared to be several rickety-looking yellow ladders that led into the depths of the massive chasm. Most curious was what was coming out of the chasm. A number of loud noises that sounded like machines hard at work, and even more disturbing, tons and tons of Terrazards. Terrazards that, strangely, didn't seem to be interested in eating the people that were sitting next to the hole that they were emerging from.

The people that were there were quite strange-looking as well. Two of them looked exactly the same. Two thin, tall, white guys with pale skin and spiky blonde hair, done in the exact same manner. They were also wearing extremely similar-looking clothing, both adorned in white, dirty tank tops and oversized jeans with sneakers. The main difference between the two were two facial tattoos- one of them had a facial tattoo on his forehead that had a big number "one" on it, while the other had a facial tattoo on his right cheek with a big number "two." They were joined by a massive, bulky individual sitting silently on the couch, wearing a hoodie that covered his face and remaining silent, and the individual that commanded attention, a man wearing a hefty bomber jacket and, most curiously, a full-head gas mask that obscured his identity.

"I've just heard back from our employer. They're here."

The two twins high-fived each other excitedly as the gas mask man spoke again. "They're handling the Terrazards well. I would've hoped that the Leftovers would've gotten at least one casualty, but it is what it is. We should expect them to be here any moment now."

The person on the couch finally spoke up, his voice extremely deep. "Should we wait here?"

"For now. That is our plan. Everything is going just how we were told it would," the gas mask individual said once more. "As we also were informed, they have an ICOSA agent watching over them. Which means they have to be extra careful not to let Terrazards flood into the city under their watch. Somebody will have to stay back to make sure they don't. And when the heroes split up...we split them."

The hoodie person on the couch nodded his head as the twins seemed to be hyping each other up and making bets about who would kill a hero first. Gas Mask turned away, opening his palm, in which a small fire formed. "Worst case scenario...we've been given permission to use the special weapon."

The twins both paused their fanfare, looking shocked at the man. "You can't be-"

"Only if we fail to defeat them right away. Which I expect should not be too difficult." Gas Mask chuckled, the fire in his palm growing even larger and hotter. "I'm waiting for you, Cadaver. Waiting a long time for this."

"It's about time you learnt your lesson."

---

_{Mission Control has been updated with necessary information.}

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

_{Peterson Estates
Passenger Island, Castleburg
Status: Infiltrating
Speaks to: Gematria @Scarifar, Dahlia @baraquiel
On a mission with: Wireframe @Silver Carrot, Bastion @Infinite Cosmos, Dahlia @baraquiel, Gematria @Scarifar, Alchemist @Duoya}

Blast nodded as the toy/girl (not sure which one to go with here) explained her thought process. Made sense. Bathroom vents would likely vent outside; the good vents were somewhere deeper in the building. Luckily, as Gematria just explained, HERO's resident hackerman had given them a vague blueprint to the building and, more importantly, ability to override security. Jake was growing to appreciate nerds more and more. "I think I can get you to the ideal spot." Jake looked at his watch. "OK, according to these blueprints there's some sort of library on this floor, which is directly beneath Peterson's private office upstairs. If you can find a vent or something, I can drop you off and you can sneak right in. Damn, this might actually going according to plan!" Blast opened his bag again. "So, uhh, one more quick trip in the bag. Sorry."

After hiding Gematria back in the bag, Jake quickly exited the bathroom and made his way through the halls of Peterson Estates. There were a bunch of portraits of what Blast assumed were the current Peterson's ancestors, given the old-timey clothing many of them were wearing. Dude came from old money. He took a couple more glances at his watch as he navigated through the large estate. He would really love to have used his powers right now; now he knew how all these other slowpokes felt when they were trying to go from point A to point B. After making a couple wrong turns, Blast pushed open the old mahogany doors of Peterson's personal library. It was an impressive room, and while it wasn't as big as an actual city library, it was quite the collection for a private owner. Jake had assumed Peterson was some dumb-dumb rich heir who could only maintain his wealth by investing in criminal enterprise, but maybe he actually had some noggin in there. Only a smart person would even think of reading so many books. Or maybe all these books belonged to the actually intelligent members of the Peterson clan, and Sam Peterson just inherited the library like the rest of the mansion.

Either way, Jake had a job to do. After looking left and right to confirm the library was, in fact, empty (it of course was- Peterson didn't invite any bookworms, apparently), Jake quickly unslung his bag and threw it like a frisbee, sending it spinning through the air and landing perfectly on top of one of the bookshelves. He was proud of his throw for about 1 second before remembering that there was an actual person inside the bag. That could've ended really badly.

Jake zoomed over to the bookshelf that he had so casually thrown Gematria onto, looking up at the top. He lowered his tone to a whisper. "Umm, sorry about that. Hope that didn't hurt too bad." Jake looked left and right again to confirm that the library was still empty. "Alright, I think you should be able to get to the vent from up there. And, uhh, do your thing. And keep us in the loop, obviously. I gotta run before people realize how long I've been gone, but less us know once you find out that Peterson is, like, super evil or whatever. Or that he has Gholem hidden under his bed. So, umm, yeah. Gotta run, good luck!" And with that, Jake sped out of the library. Being around so many books was starting to hurt.

Jake got a little impatient and turned on his powers just enough to give him a modest, though not extreme, boost in speed as he sped-walk his way back to the ballroom, which had filled even more with people as they continued to trickle in. As Jake needled his way through the crowd, the whole ballroom was brought to a hush by the sound of a fork being clanged against a champagne glass repeatedly.

Peterson had arrived.

Samuel Peterson was not the type of person that generally would turn heads at parties. He was shorter than average, standing around 5'6" or 5'7", and was slightly portly, with frizzy gray hair and a bushy gray mustache. He looked like if Einstein met the Roaring Twenties, not like the rest of the crowd, most of whom were fairly glamorous-looking people. He also, more importantly, did not look like a villain of any kind. But looks could be deceiving.

Peterson extended his arms as he turned his head to examine the crowd. He was wearing a classic tuxedo and standing on an elevated platform, next to the group of musicians that had been providing the music for the evening. "Greetings, all. Thank you for making the time to come this evening. It's my absolute honor to host such wonderful people. I hope everybody has been enjoying the refreshments, but I also hope that none of you over-indulged. Because you all know what time it is!"

Jake, in fact, did not know what time it was. Well, it was just past 7:20, but Jake suspected that was not going to be the answer to the man's question.

"Our annual ballroom dancing competition!"

Well, unexpected, but it could've been a lot worse. Jake was half-expecting Peterson to drop nets from the ceiling and capture them all then and there.

"We only have a couple of newcomers, but I'll explain how this works just to be on the safe side. Our lovely instrumentalists will perform some equally lovely tunes for us, and at the end I choose from all the pairs a winner. And of course, your prize will be some shares in Peterson Communications and, most importantly, a tour of my wine cellar, which you'll be happy to know was ranked third in the world amongst personal collections for its breadth and quality of wines by the International Association of Sommeliers. Oh, and you can each take home a choice of one bottle of wine from my personal collection!"

Jake turned away from the crowd, sneaking a peak at his watch to confirm something he had thought earlier. His lingering thought was correct: the Peterson wine cellar was in the basement of the estate, right next to a large unidentified room. That was, of course, super suspicious, and this would be a good chance to bypass security and get into the proximity of the area. Plus, the prizes didn't sound bad. Chicks digged nice wine. Plus, those stocks sounded pretty good, though if the mission went the way HERO thought it would, it might not be very valuable shares for very long.

Jake's train of thought was interrupted by Peterson's speaking. The same time that Jake had looked down to take a peak at his watch, Peterson had looked down to take a peak at his cell phone. "Unfortunately, ladies and gentlemen, I will have to miss out on the event due to some emergency work obligations. Yes, I'm as disappointed as you are! In my stead, my lovely wife Ada will judge the dancers!" Peterson gestured across the room to a blonde woman at least 20 years his junior, who gave a demure wave."My apologies again, but this is urgent. But best of luck to all!" And with that, Peterson stepped off the stage, and the musicians flipped through some sheet music as they prepared.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Whatever the hero Cloudburst had to say or think regarding Wireframe would remain unknown, as a strange hand patted itself on Cloudburst's shoulder. Cloudburst immediately turned in shock, gave what appeared to be a salute, and disappeared into the crowd. This revealed the source of the hand: a tall, older man with combed-back silver hair and a well-trimmed goatee, dressed in a sleek black three-piece suit with a red tie. This, of course, was Emilio Marquez, or the superhero Toreador. He was one of the most well-known heroes in the city back in the day, and though he didn't spend as much of his time on the frontlines anymore, he was still a legend in the hero community.

"Ms. Weaver. I don't think we've ever met in person before," Toreador said, looking down at Maddie with his cold, blue-gray eyes. His facial structure and those eerie eyes made him look very hawk-like in a strange way. "I hope I didn't interrupt a conversation, I just wanted to say hello. Your father-"

It was around this time that Peterson gave his speech about the dancing competition or whatever, at which point Toreador stopped mid-sentence and listened. Once Peterson walked off due to his work issues, Toreador's eyes re-fixed themselves on Wireframe. "I suppose that was good timing, as I'm in need of a partner myself, and I daresay you won't find a better ballroom dancer than yours truly." The corner of Marquez's lip turned upwards into the slightest grin. "Shall we? I believe we have much to discuss. And I'm sensing that whatever reason you have for being here...perhaps a spot of dancing might further your aim."

Toreador was one of the most capable telepaths in HERO's history, and it seemed as though he could see right through people with those bird-of-prey eyes. He was certainly an interesting character in HERO, and definitely a bad enemy to make.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

As others began to pair up, Jake had quickly moved over to the drinks table and downed two flutes of champagne. After all, this was a party, and he needed to lighten up in order to do more party-ing. He then dropped both glasses into the trash can. Jake didn't imagine that rich people used the dishwasher. Buying new champagne glasses was probably like buying new sticks of gum for a regular person. Besides, Peterson was probably going to jail after this anyway. The state of his party equipment would soon be the least of his concerns, unless he paid his attorneys with glassware.

Jake turned back to the crowd as he looked through for somebody that was not a fossil but also looked like they might either A) know how to dance and/or B) know something about Peterson and have some useful intel for him. Jake's eyes eventually settled on somebody that looked conspicuous enough to be worth a shot. A woman that was probably around his age with brown hair, wearing a pretty black dress and fur coat. Definitely rich-looking, possibly associated with Peterson, given that she was here. Check, check. Jake adjusted his tie before making his other, putting on his best winning smile as he approached through the crowd.

"Miss, would you like this dance?" Jake asked with a wink as he extended a hand. "I've never been to one of these parties before. You know, I've always heard Peterson's been into some shady stuff. You know anything about that?"

This definitely was not the most nuanced approach, though that wouldn't matter, as Jake had. of course, approached his own colleague Dahlia in disguise. One day he would learn to pay attention, maybe, but evidently today was not that day.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Peterson made his way across the ballroom, but before he left, he turned to look at one of the waitresses that was holding a tray. "I must say, I heard about your discussion on Pulp Fiction from across the room. Good taste in film. You know, Mr. Willis was actually supposed to make a guest appearance tonight, but he had to cancel, unfortunately. Other plans!" Peterson gave a hearty rich-person laugh. "Still, you have an impressive knowledge of film! After my work call, I'd love to offer you an entry-level position at Cinepedia. A young lady like you shouldn't be wasting around as waitstaff!" He chuckled to himself. "You know, I always knew I had a good eye for talent. Even when I'm just hiring for events, I find diamonds in the rough! Come meet me upstairs in my study. Oh, and bring some of those...what did you call them? Mini Royales with cheese? Hilarious! Bring a bunch of those with you. Chef Cazenave continues to impress..."

And with that, Peterson walked out of the ballroom and made his way up the stairs, flanked by a couple of security guards. Rupa's cinephilia had gotten her a one-way ticket right into the lion's den.

---

_{Outside Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant
Brookside, Castleburg
Being observed: Crane @Zoey Boey, Lab Rat @Silver Carrot, Blur Rabbit @DClassified, Ardent @manythings, Terraformer @shylarah, Freakshow @Crusader Lord, Mire @Blizz}

Mari did not appreciate being told what to do by some random hacker in her ear. She was, of course, familiar with Wiseman's capabilities as a supergenius, and was well-aware of his technological skillset. But she was not expecting to hear his voice come through her headset and start barking orders. She made a sour face as she reached a hand up, tapping her earpiece, before responding.

"If you're as much of a genius as the files say, you know I'm not going to shoot anybody, cabrón. They gave me this because I know how to use it," she retorted with flair. Despite her heated response, though, she did uncurl her finger from the trigger, instead wrapping her second hand comfortably around the grip of the weapon. She put her eye up against the scope again, observing the scene and returning to her job. The heroes had almost all gotten out and now appeared to all be heatedly speaking with one another. Of course. What a great start to this mission.

Mari moved the weapon to the left to observe the hole near the facility. Strangely, it appeared to be empty. That meant one of two things- either the Terrazards had gone back to their little hidey-hole after seeing the group of heroes or, two, they were rapidly on the move. A quick shift of the scoped weapon back revealed the answer. The Terrazards, almost as if they had been suddenly spooked or commanded, were now moving towards the group of heroes and their convoy vehicles. There had to be at least 20 or 25 of them total, and the creatures were moving quickly, some of them rushing head on and some of them moving at an angle, likely trying to form some type of pincer movement.

Mari hesitated before wrapping her finger once again around the trigger, lifting her eye to the rifle, and a second later, fired. One of the charging Terrazards was caught squarely in the stomach, and while their skin was tough, the ICOSA-issued sniper rifle was much tougher, as the bullet cut directly through the Leftover and caused it to drop to its side. More importantly, though, the sound of the gunshot was quite loud, and it would definitely alert the heroes if they were close to paying attention, and was the reason Mari took the shot. True, Mari had only been designated to observe and act defensively only, but if the Terrazards caught the group unaware, there would be nobody left to observe and a lot of cleaning up to do. Mari reached her hand back to her earpiece again.

"Instead of bossing me around, how about you tell your comrades to pay attention before they get eaten alive, hmm? Terrazards are going to be at their location in less than a minute." She spoke vexedly through the compromised communication system, as she cleared the empty shell casing from the gun and began to load another round. "And I was told you were supposed to be at an evaluation."

---

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

_{Approximately Noon
October 8th, 2029.
Conference Room 1A
HERO One
Savior's Island, Castleburg NY}

Conference Room 1A was an extremely spacious room, though it wasn't a very complex one. It was simply a long room with stark white walls and a large, sleek conference table in the middle of it. The ovular conference table was extremely oblong, more closely resembling a dining room that you would see in a castle than a conference room in your average building. The lights in the room pulsed a baby blue glow that made the glacier-white room look like the inside of some type of spaceship.

Every seat at the very long table was currently being filled by some hero, from some disdainful-looking aged Junkers like Toreador to some of the younger teenage heroes. At the other side of the room, a laptop was currently sending a live feed of the meeting to every hero that was not currently in Castleburg, or couldn't for whatever reason squeeze inside the conference room. It was immediately clear that this was not a jovial atmosphere, and outside of some hushed whispers, there wasn't a lot of chattering going on in the meeting room.

Standing at the head of the table was a very curious cadre of strange people. Well, mostly curious, because one of these people was Director Hugo Powers, who looked even more uncomfortable and frustrated than the gathered heroes. He was currently strapped to the max, with an assault rifle hanging off his back and several combat knives sheathed on pouches that were sewn into the black combat bodysuit he was wearing, though this was not particularly unusual attire for the combat-focused veteran, even for a Monday noon "business" meeting. No, what was most strange were the three other people present at the table.

One of them was a tall, well-groomed blonde man, currently wearing a pristine navy-colored three-piece suit. The man, out of every person in the room, seemed by far the most comfortable in this environment, just by body language alone. He was smiling and looking over at one of the other unusual people, a shorter young woman with shoulder-length, curly brunette locks, warm beige skin, and currently wearing a cream-colored blouse and tan skirt. While the taller and slightly older-looking blonde man was grinning and talking to her, she didn't seem to be moving her lips to respond, and she seemed to also hate the environment. The last strange individual was an average-height, bespectacled woman with plain brown hair currently tied up in a bun, wearing a gray pantsuit and pressing a clipboard to her chest.

After he finished whispering whatever he was saying, the blonde man scanned the room and turned to the Director. "Are we all set, Hugo? I don't want to waste too much of your subordinates' time here." As soon as the man spoke, it was evident by his accent that he was British, and those with a little more familiarity with language (or who have ever seen My Fair Lady) could tell from his clipped and precise manner of speaking that he was very much an upper-class Brit at that.

Before the Director could even respond, the blonde man gave a loud cough into a gloved hand. "Alright, let's begin. Thank you all for coming, and thanks to all of those who are tuning in remotely." He gave a charming little wave at the camera. "Now, introductions are in order. My name is Inspector Q. Spencer Randolph, or Magician, if you'd rather. Joining me to my left is my partner, Inspector Marisol Perez-" He gestured to the shorter, grumpy-looking woman to his left, "...-and to my right, the esteemed Dr. Sabine Reininger, psychologist extraordinaire. We are a contingent sent from ICOSA to accompany you for a while."

As soon as he mentioned the word "ICOSA," there was some audible grumbling and even a few boos. Many heroes were unhappy with the power structure at HERO as is, let alone the elusive mega-bureaucracy that operated from a different continent. The women standing next to him seemed a little put off or surprised, but Randolph kept going, completely unphased, as if he had done this exact song-and-dance routine several times before. "Now, as I'm sure you're aware, at this point, HERO- particularly in Castleburg- has documented a well-above-average rate of villainous encounters. Especially recently. We've seen a number of recent Leftover attacks, combined with your recent battle with, what were they called? The Fiendish Five?" Randolph glanced over at Powers with a taunting grin, before clearing his throat once again. "That, combined with some pretty substantial reported damage totals and, err, how should I say this? Extraordinary new recruitment choices by the administration. Yes, let's go with that. Combined with those extraordinary new recruitment choices, the brass at ICOSA has asked us to come take stock of the situation and, if necessary, make and implement recommended changes."

The blonde man gave his necktie a tug. Though he wasn't reading off a script, it was pretty evident to anybody who was paying attention that his speech was prepared, if not fully memorized and recited. "Of course, it is not the goal of either me, or my partner, or anybody else, to totally take over HERO from the top-down. ICOSA believes in and emphasizes the importance of individual company independence. We're just going to enjoy a little East Coast vacation, watch some action, ask a couple of questions, and if all goes well, be on our merry way."

"So, that's what we plan on doing. We're going to be supervising and taking notes on some of the more important missions, reviewing some case files, and most importantly, conducting some interviews to make sure that everybody here is, well, qualified to participate in hero activities. Dr. Reininger is a very experienced psychologist who will be sitting and chatting with a few of you. We've actually prepared a shortlist of names." The suited man removed a folded piece of paper from one of his suit pockets, handing it to Powers, who hastily unfolded and squinted at the paper.

"This page has 107 names on it."

Randolph shrugged with a crafty smile. "That's how the process works, Hugo. But once we get through that, we'll be out of your hair and leave a cleaned-up HERO with no liabilities and perfect organization in our wake. Really just some minor changes," he said, looking over at his two partners. "Anything either of you want to add?"

"You covered it all, I think," the young lady named Marisol said, her arms tightly folded in front of her.

"Then that's settled. Meeting adjourned." The blonde man said, as some grumbling heroes stood up and prepared to take their leave. "Oh! And before you go, just a forewarning. We do hold some pretty rigorous standards here at ICOSA, so I expect that you all will be honest and truthful during your evaluations. I would really hate for us to have to detain heroes for intentionally deceiving us, but we have to do what we have to do, you know. Now, we have an interviewing area to set up."

The group of ICOSA intruders walked past the visibly-angry Director Powers and made their way into the hallway, where their work as a thorn in everybody's rears would soon begin.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Over the next couple of days, a cold war between the ICOSA invaders and the top brass at HERO silently lit off. Powers was rightfully not amused with the idea that the superhero apparatchik would be commandeering one of his buildings, having psychological deep-talk with his agents, and tagging along for missions in the city, even if these bureaucrats were metahuman ones. As such, Powers made sure to do as much as possible to slow Randolph’s process down.

Powers had vehemently insisted that he needed as many of his heroes to be, well, protecting the city. He noted that it would make very little sense for ICOSA to investigate HERO for the number of suspicious events and then tie their heroes up and prevent them from solving those problems. ICOSA retracted a number of the names on their interview list, instead requesting some old interview tapes and reports, but they still demanded to meet in-person with some of the more suspicious and/or interesting heroes, and Powers acquiesced to this modified demand. And so the agreement was set. Some heroes lucked out of the psych eval, some didn’t. Truth be told, the ones that still got roped into the ICOSA session were the people that even Powers himself was most suspicious of. Maybe something good could come out of this intrusion for him, after all.

But just because Powers won one battle didn’t mean his fight was over. ICOSA only had to know about some things, not everything.

---

_{7:19 PM.
October 10th, 2029.
Peterson Estates
Passenger Island, Castleburg
Status: Getting inside the building.
On a mission with: Wireframe @Silver Carrot, Bastion @Infinite Cosmos, Dahlia @baraquiel, Gematria @Scarifar, Alchemist @Duoya}

Not all heroes wear capes. Some heroes were busy fighting villains, some were busy fighting Leftovers, some were recuperating from injuries, but Blast was...arguing with a doorman in front of a massive, neoclassical mansion.

"Invite? Yes, of course I have my invite! You're telling me you know who I am, and yet I'm still not allowed inside? That's ridiculous."

Jake doubled back, giving his best 'too rich for this impression,' before turning around, grabbing his suit jacket and complementing his impression with his best haughty suit tug. The hero known as Blast looked quite different from his usual, casual look. He was wearing a sleek, jet black suit with a matching tie, and his blonde hair had been carefully coiffured and gelled into an Ivy League part. He had done his best to create a convincing 'upper-class hero' persona. He kind of hated it, but it was important for the mission. And maybe his attendance at such a high-society function would get him closer to being a Junker or something. That would be good for his career. At least, if he didn't get caught doing this breaking-and-entering thing.

Jake brought his elbow to his mouth to mime a cough, though in reality, he was pressing a finger to the transparent high-tech earpiece that had been given to those being sent to the Peterson Estate. "Alisa, this is Blast. What's this about needing an invitation? Didn't you set me up?"

A moment, then a reply. "I specifically custom-printed everybody an invitation. Including you. My informed guess is that you rushed out the door, thus forgetting the invitation, and are now here well-before everybody else because you used your powers to speed over. Is my assessment accurate?"

Jake made a face behind the shielding of his elbow. "Listen, can you get me in or do I need to waste my energy running across the city again? I'm kind of tired as is. You know it's-"

"So yes, my assessment is accurate. And yes, I can make something happen. Get inside quickly, though, your role is important."

That was true, as Jake was currently hoisting, via a shoulder strap, a black satchel bag, and inside that black satchel bag was a certain important doll. Gematria. Jake found it a little freaky to be carrying a 10-inch tall doll/person around with him, but it was no doubt an extremely useful power to have, especially in this context. Even somebody with silver tongue couldn't move about the massive building undetected in the same way a toy-sized person could.

The entire group, Jake had to admit, made sense for this mission. There was the aforementioned Gematria, who could stealthily move around in her small form and gain access to any type of computer files that Peterson had effortlessly. Blast, of course, had his rapid speed and (what he considered) his great charm as well. Wireframe and Bastion practically lived and breathed this type of lifestyle and would fit right into this party. Dahlia, as far as Blast knew, had also spent her life in this type of company, though in a very different context than the others. And Alchemist...well, truth be told, Jake didn't know much about Alchemist, outside of the fact that she was a couple years younger than him, apparently almost got somebody killed in her first month or so on the job, and somehow had Powers' phone number. Maybe her ability to sneakily get phone numbers would come in handy or something. Still, it was a good group.

Jake turned back around to see the guy that had rejected him earlier now speaking on the phone. Jake picked up the tail end of the conversation- something about a woman named Svetlana and a romantic date with his online girlfriend from Moldova- and then saw the man walk around the corner of the building, still looking down at his phone like he was a teenager looking at one of those new social media apps. Some things you don't grow out of, apparently. As the man momentarily deserted his post, Jake used a small burst of his powers to quickly walk up the front steps and into the building.

The mansion was quite massive. The first room that Jake had walked into was some type of entrance room with a large, red carpeted spiraling stairs leading to some upstairs level. The entrance room was connected to a massive ballroom, where most of the well-dressed guests were gathered, and that connected to the outside gardens, an extensive area with a number of hedges and open areas for Peterson's horses to run about. The sweet, lilting sounds of a string quartet filled the air. Jake nonchalantly reached a finger to his ear, whispering softly so as not to be overheard. "Alisa, what's the situation here? Game plan? And where's everybody else?"

"Everybody else should be there momentarily. And hopefully with their invitations, unlike you. I can't pull the same Svetlana stunt forever. This guard is stupid, but he isn't that stupid."

"OK, the first part of my question. What's the plan?"

"I believe the Director's explanation was very clear. Scope the place out, talk to guests, find anything you can get on Peterson. Outside of satellite photos, I can't obtain a good layout of the place, and my guess is that a good chunk of the mansion is restricted, but I'm sure you can find your way around. Reminder that you're still carrying Gematria."

"Roger," Blast said, having totally remembered that part as he removed his finger from his ear, smiling and waving at a few tuxedo-wearing men before immediately dipping off to the nearest bathroom and stepping inside. The bathroom was, as expected, very fancy. Jake had never seen a golden toilet until now. Sick. The hero lowered the satchel bag to the floor, opening it up. "You good in there? Is this a good spot? Also, you OK from the speed-running thing? I don't know if you being tiny makes you, like, extra vulnerable to high speeds or something. I tried carrying somebody on my back once and they totally yakked. Can robots yak? No, right? Well, you're not really a robot, though...anyway, any ideas? I can, like, throw you into an air vent or something." Jake looked up at an air vent on the ceiling. "If you have a plan, shoot. I don't really know anything about, like, how your powers work. Outside of the toy robot stuff."

---

_{7:19 PM.
October 10th, 2029.
Outside Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant
Brookside, Castleburg
Being observed: Crane @Zoey Boey, Lab Rat @Silver Carrot, Blur Rabbit @DClassified, Ardent @manythings, Terraformer @shylarah, Freakshow @Crusader Lord, Mire @Blizz}

All the way across the city, another group of heroes was being watched.

The watcher was a young Hispanic lady, perched on the edge of a tall observation tower, overlooking the massive Fixeon Municipal Recycling Plant. The plant was in a primo real-estate area, right on the coast, overlooking the beautiful Atlantic Ocean south of Castleburg. However, it was in absolute ruin. The massive facility itself was beaten-down and in obvious dereliction, with broken windows, holes in walls, massive overgrowths of weeds and ivy, et cetera. The facility was situated a good distance away from most nearby buildings, outside of the observation tower, leaving a massive field of dying grass and dirt that was covered in stacks of crushed plastics and other recycling materials. It looked a bit dystopian, even moreso than most of Brookside. At least Brookside had some rustic charm to it, and some culture and history. This section near the recycling plant was just bleak and dead. And most importantly, it was now infested with Leftovers. Never a good sign.

The watched were a group of heroes that the Inspector Marisol Perez had memorized. One of them she was acquainted, though not particularly familiar with: a woman named Lab Rat, who was previously a member of ICOSA's Research Corps. The Research and Inspector Corps didn't intermingle too much, so the young ICOSA operative hadn't really gotten herself acquainted with the more senior individual, but she did have some background knowledge about her. Not that the background knowledge was very important: Perez had been told not to worry about analyzing the former ICOSA operative.

Terraformer was another hero that Perez was only keeping a cursory eye on. A young hero that had graduated from the Academy. Had a good record, seemed like a good kid, albeit a bit quirky and with a propensity for technology. Still, by hero standards (and more importantly, by H.E.R.O. standards), fairly regular.

Then there was Crane, a giant woman from fairly far away that moved to Castleburg. Seemed like a regular person, but ICOSA always kept tabs on all individuals with particularly pronounced size such as Crane. What if they go full King Kong, after all? You can never be too careful.

The really important individuals that Mari was watching were four that the HERO Director Powers had somehow gotten out of psychological evaluation. Ardent, Freakshow, and Blur Rabbit. All suspicious to the ICOSA top brass for varying reasons. Ardent was a former vigilante that had, in the past, publicly defamed the very organization he was now working for. Strange. Freakshow was a former big-time criminal and gang member that was now part of a superheroic organization. Very strange. And this Blur Rabbit character was almost a total enigma. Apparently, ICOSA's executive authorities were not exactly satisfied with the files and answers that Powers had given on this hero. Very, very strange. And so while they had miraculously gotten out of getting their brains picked apart by ICOSA's top psychologist, they were going to be under the watchful eye of the Junior Inspector.

And that wasn't including the mind-boggling strangeness that was Mire. Mari couldn't even conceive what the fungus Leftover thing was, let alone what to think about it. That's what she was here to do, anyway. To watch and learn.

Mari adjusted herself on the ledge of the water tower, holding through the scope of a large, glossy-looking sniper rifle. Mari generally wasn't much of a gun person, but in case things went south on this mission, she needed to be able to respond and take out the threat. She wasn't planning on shooting any of the heroes, and the heroes had been informed about the Inspector sitting on the water tower ledge, watching their every move through the scope of a sniper rifle. It was probably disconcerting, but Mari didn't pay it too much mind. She had a job to do.

She scanned the area, the scope of her rifle picking up on a large group of Leftovers that were wandering out of a large hole in the wall of the facility. Terrazards. Dangerous lizard-type leftovers, like monitor lizards but much faster, much stronger, and much, much smarter. Mari resisted the urge to start picking them off immediately. She was only authorized to use force in case of risk of serious injury or death. Her goal here was to observe and report the heroes.

And speaking of the heroes, Mari saw through her scope that they were now arriving. A large, jet black van with the HERO logo on the side rattled down the beaten path, before stopping in the middle of the field of recyclables, maybe 200 or 250 yards away from where the Leftovers were now congregating. Behind the black van (which Mari assumed was self-driving or, more likely, being driven by HERO's apparently genius AI), another black vehicle came up behind, this one a truck that was pulling a platform that carried the giant heroine, Crane. Apparently this was the modification that HERO made to accommodate people of Crane's size. Mari didn't know what the deal was with the fungus Leftover. They could probably just...come out of the ground. Or something.

Mari rested her eye against the scope as her finger wrapped around the trigger. She had done plenty of analysis on HERO from paper. Now, it was time to see how they fought in person. What made them tick?

---

_{7:19 PM.
October 10th, 2029.
HERO Three
East Flank, Castleburg
In waiting: Rune @rabidporcupine, Wiseman @Blizz, Backup @Zoey Boey, Fallout @Aku the Samurai, Oracle @shylarah}

HERO Three's staff room was a pleasant enough place to wait around. For a facility that was generally only used by heroes for temporary storage and pickup of equipment, or as a place to crash when you get locked out of your apartment, it was actually pretty nice. There were a couple of comfy leather sofas, a foosball table, two arcade machines (one with Pac-Man, one with Space Invaders), and a wall-mounted TV. It was a fine place to sit around, though what the people gathered there to sit around for was positively unpleasant. ICOSA, as part of its evaluation, was conducting some deep interviews with both Magician, their ace investigator, and Dr. Sabine Reininger, a world-renowned psychologist from Germany, in order to make sure that HERO's operatives were up to their standards.

Powers had come to the rescue of some of the people on ICOSA's interview shortlist, but he couldn't do everything, and ICOSA had demands. And so the remaining people that they had called on this Wednesday evening to get interviewed had no wiggle room out of the evaluation, lest they get fired and possibly even arrested. ICOSA took this stuff seriously. Way too seriously.

Rune, Wiseman, Backup, Fallout, and Oracle. Five very different people, but for one reason or another, ICOSA was particularly interested- or perhaps, particularly aggrieved- by their presence at HERO. Maybe the interview was a chance to get to know them better, or maybe it was a trap to get them fired. One or the other, most likely.

Either way, the door to a connecting office swung open, and out stepped the duo of Magician (wearing a dark gray three-piece suit this time around) and Dr. Reininger, the psychologist (who was wearing pretty much the same clothes). While Dr. Reininger's demure appearance and weak but friendly smile gave her the appearance that she was nice enough (or perhaps easy to manipulate), Magician had an aura about him that screamed both condescension and arrogance. He was a frustrating character.

"Glad you all could make it! Let's try and get through these very quickly so we can save time. Any volunteers to go first? The sooner we finish the interview, the sooner we can fi-...err, complete your performance evaluations. Did I say something else? Anyway, brave volunteers?" The cocky British man raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, the good doctor here is in a very good mood. Perhaps going first will spare you her fury later on!"

The psychologist, Dr. Reininger, laughed, one part embarrassed and one part disappointed that she was here, doing this, instead of writing a book or doing research or teaching (or really anything else). "Oh, Mr. Randolph, don't make those kinds of jokes," she said with an embarrassed flush. "But yes, if anybody has anything particularly important they need to attend to, please go first. I want to make our interviews thorough and productive, but as painless and time-effective as possible too. So, either way, this shouldn't take long."

"Oh, not long at all! So let's get at it."

---

_{Pertinent update made to Leftover Files.}

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

Lab Rat

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"It’s good to be back in the field"

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[ NAME ]

Dr. Flora Lucas

[ HERO IDENTITY ]

Lab Rat (formerly Ratgirl)

[ NICKNAME/ALIAS ]

Ratty

[ AGE ]

29

[ GENDER ]

Female

[ AFFILIATION ]

I.C.O.S.A. / H.E.R.O.

[ APPEARANCE ]

Flora is on the shorter side, with a petite face, pointy nose and black, beady eyes. There’s a hunch in her shoulders that accentuates the rodent-like qualities of her demeanour and invite more than a few comparisons to being a mouse-like/rat-like person. Her hair and clothing are usually neat and utilitarian. She’s fond of sweaters and miniskirts with leggings, when sweatpants and a vest top are too casual for the occasion.

Her hero costume is a brown and beige bodysuit and singlet with long black boots, that still fits comfortably from her days as Ratgirl. Over this, she now wears a white labcoat.

[ PERSONALITY TRAITS ]

Flora appears friendly and sociable at the surface, but this is only practice in faking it until she could make it. Flora is a quiet, introverted eccentric at heart and has always felt a little…off compared to others. To her, being in social situations and being expected to put on a warm smile is the work, and spending eight hours a day on patrol, learning or training is the R&R. She can get obsessed over her passions and excitable when such topics are brought up.

[ BIO ]

Flora was born in Salzburg, Austria, with the innate ability of strong bones. Her parents were both scientists who worked for a shady weapons development and research company that was looking into using Leftover DNA to develop drugs and gene therapy with the goal of giving people off-the-shelf superpowers. Flora’s innate ability made her a durable test subject for something called ‘Project Chimera’ when she was twelve years old. The initial month, where her DNA was forcibly combined with the DNA of a giant rat Leftover, was torture. The following two years of tests and trials to determine the long term success of the experiment, was mind-numbingly boring, but Flora was watching, listening and learning about science and biology the whole time.

The facility was raided by Austrian Superheroes and all test subjects rescued. Flora’s birth parents, who she hadn’t even seen for three years, were arrested, and Flora couldn’t find it within her to care. The Heroes, and her foster family all seemed concerned and sympathetic, and showered her with pity, but Flora was unable to adjust to normal life. She began to prefer the company of rats to the company of people.

There were jokes that Castleburg was the world capital for rats. Flora, mentally and emotionally stunted, didn’t get the joke. She ran away from home, hitchhiked and stowed away all the way from Salzburg to Castleburg over the span of several months, and spent a few weeks living on the streets while she applied for jobs. That was the initial reason she joined H.E.R.O. at age sixteen; a job to make ends meet with the only thing she had to offer; her powers. She gave everything she had to her training and education, finding comfort in the similarities to running tests and exercises. Despite a modest Hero career as ‘Ratgirl’, she never managed to make many deep friendships with one exception. Emily Duff AKA ’Butterfly’, was one year Flora’s senior and adopted an unofficial role as her mentor and big sister figure.

As Flora grew older and more knowledgeable, she caught the attention of I.C.O.S.A. at the age of 22. Rather than stay a Hero of middling success, she chose to become a scientist for I.C.O.S.A’s R&D dept, specialising in both biology and Leftovers. She quickly proved herself to be in her element, and was the happiest she’d ever been as a scientist. That was until her higher-ups went over her head and against her recommendations and attempted to use force on an intelligent Leftover. All five were sent to the hospital and Flora was ready with an “I told you so.”. Cracks were beginning to show in her perfect life, she was becoming disillusioned with her work and when the opportunity arose, she decided to return to H.E.R.O. on I.C.O.S.A’s orders and return to crime-fighting for the moment.

| MISCELLANEOUS |

Flora struggled with English during her first Hero career but is now a fluent speaker.

Abilities

[ RANKING ]

Λ (Lambda Class)

[ POWERS ]

Flora’s inherent ability is abnormally strong, dense bones. As a result of the experiments she was subjected to, Flora’s powerset now includes increased speed, strength and stamina, sharply enhanced senses and reflexes, and the ability to communicate with rodents.

[ PHYSICAL STRENGTH ]
■■■■■■■□□□

7/10
Flora can’t lift a car over her head or anything too crazy, but her enhanced strength does let her bust open security doors, tear apart metal and punch through brick like it’s drywall.

[ AGILITY ]
■■■■■■■□□□

7/10
Flora is a very agile individual, even able to scurry up the sides of buildings provided there’s enough purchase.

[ INTELLIGENCE ]
■■■■■■■■■□

9/10
Flora’s greatest strength is her impressive scientific knowledge and photographic memory. Flora’s unsure if her intelligence is aided by her power or if her smarts are purly the result of effort and talent.

[ DESTRUCTIVENESS ]
■■■■□□□□□□

4/10
High capacity for minor property damage if she isn’t careful. However, she usually is.

[ LETHALITY ]
■■■□□□□□□□

3/10
Flora, in her I.C.O.S.A. work, has subdued many superpowered individuals using a level of force that would kill a regular human. However, she is very careful and in full control of her strength..

[ ENDURANCE ]
■■■■■■■□□□

7/10
Flora’s bones are nigh-impossible to break without some very heavy duty destructive force, but she’s not that much more immune to flesh wounds than most other heroes.

[ STAMINA ]
■■■■■■■■■□

9/10
Flora’s stamina is greatly boosted by her artificial powers to the point where nobody has ever seen her physically tired, only mentally.

[ EFFICACY ]
■■■■■□□□□□

5/10
Flora’s powerset is an uncomplicated one that does not require much finesse or mastery to use. Nevertheless, Flora has had a lot of practice to creatively squeeze every drop of efficacy from such a powerset.

[ SURVEILLANCE LEVEL ]
■□□□□□□□□□

1/10
As a member of I.C.O.S.A, she may be keeping an eye on us more than we’re keeping an eye on her.

[ SKILLS ]

Flora received freerunning and combat training during her initial Hero career, though she may be a little rusty

[ EQUIPMENT ]

Multipurpose goggles that include night vision, thermal, infrared and zoom, as well as the ability to take pictures and video. Lab Rat currently also carries her old grappling hook though she may be in the market for some new gadgets later.

@Silver Carrot

Love the general concept, she is very interesting for sure! Accepted

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

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《 Archived H.E.R.O. File 59000679 》
_{My programming requires me to, quote, "reduce, reuse, recycle." Even with digital files. Strange, I know. Why would we even need to keep files on these numbnuts?}

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EVENT: "Happy HERODays!"

[ EVENT FILENAME ]

"Happy HERODays!"

[ TIME / DATE ]

September 14th, 2029.
All Day Event

[ LOCATION ]

Throughout Castleburg

HERO Parade down 5th Avenue, New Athens
"HEROXposition" located the Johnstone Convention Center

[ DESCRIPTION ]

In honor of HERO's sesquicentennial anniversary (that's 150 years, for those that can't break down simple Latin root words), the Castleburg City Council has voted to approve a citywide festival to commemorate the years of service that HERO has provided for the city, as well as celebrate the heroes that protect the city on a day-to-day basis. The events will include large-scale street closures to make way for public markets, a large parade that will cut down one of New Athens' busiest streets, and a major HERO-centered event at one of Castleburg's biggest convention centers that will include galleries that display HERO's achievements over the years, demonstrations of some of the heroes' abilities, and speeches by a number of important officials (including Director Hugo Powers) that will honor the storied past of HERO while also foreshadowing some of the developments made in the organization and things to come. Topping all of that off is a citywide holiday, meaning city employees get the day off from work, and children get the day off from school. It's a pretty big deal, to say the least.

Despite some objections, HERO Executive Director Powers has agreed to greenlight the event and speak at the "HEROXposition" (even I think it's a dumb name, for the record). Though he has some security concerns, he does agree with city officials that it is a good way to celebrate a redundant and forgettable modestly important anniversary date while also giving some new heroes an opportunity to meet new people, explore the city, and extol the virtues of an organization they will hopefully be a part of for many years. What could go wrong?

[ DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS ]

"I'm less concerned about security and more irritated that I have to give a speech. This whole thing does seem a little bit corny. That being said, the people want it, the city council wants it, it'll be a good day for business, and Emily tells me the heroes will have a good time. I suppose 150 years is something worth toasting to. I will not be letting my guard down just because HERO is however many years old, though."

[ MISSION DIRECTIVE ]

Have a good time? This section seems a bit too formal. This whole thing seems a bit too formal. But I create documents as I'm told.

EVENT: "Scavenger Hunt"

[ EVENT FILENAME ]

"Scavenger Hunt"

[ TIME / DATE ]

September 14th, 2029.
Approximately Noon

[ LOCATION ]

Savior Island

[ DESCRIPTION ]

In order to promote a spirit of camaraderie, teamwork, and adventure, the Assistant Director has prepared an event wherein the heroes will compete to snag as many information pyramids with pre-prepared trivia facts, in order to win mutated shape-shifting mini-plants. There are 5 pyramids scattered across the island:

• One of them is located on a small platform about 40 feet from the shore in the water.
• One of them is located within a half-buried safe that is equipped with an advanced lock.
• One of them is being ferried around the island in circles by a drone flying about 60 feet in the air.
• One of them is hidden inside a very brambly bush.
• One of them is on a platform right in the middle of the island, but is being guarded vigilantly by a combat droid. That combat droid is, of course, being controlled by me. Don't worry, the gun is only set to mildly shock you. But I will shoot.

[ ASST. DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS ]

"First off, I didn't ask you to make one of these for this. And second, I think this will be fun! Hopefully. Maybe. Better than boring them all to death."

[ MISSION DIRECTIVE ]

Find enough of the little pyramids and win the little bush Leftover things. And also, glory!

VILLAIN PROFILE: "Fiendish Five"

[ PROFILE NAME ]

"Fiendish Five"

[ DESCRIPTION ]

Villain Group

[ MEMBERSHIP NUMBER ]

...really?

[ DESCRIPTION ]

The Fiendish Five are a villainous group that has been operating in Castleburg for some time. They are, as the name suggests, both fiendish and always composed of five members. Their current line-up consists of Doc Holliday, Lady Blade, Professor Jon Gholem, Albino, and Jellyfish. Though they have ridiculous-sounding names and get-ups, they are all highly dangerous and should only be approached with a group of experienced heroes.

Interestingly, the Fiendish Five do not appear to have malevolent grand plans of their own for the city, and they generally have their services contracted for by the highest bidder, like Star Wars bounty hunters but real and goofier. Their HQ location is, at this time, unknown.

[ MEMBERS ]

The Fiendish Five have had a couple of iterations, but their current fivesome is as follows:

• Doc Holliday, real name Jacob Wells, is a cartoonish-looking villain that dresses as his icon and namesake, the Wild West gunfighter Doc Holliday. Doc is the founder and longest-tenured member of the Five and serves as their de facto leader. Holliday was very briefly a hero, but his gratuitous violence led to him being put on probation by the organization; he then left, became jaded as a vigilante that was not respected and made no money, and turned to a life of crime. His power, which is classified as Theta Class by HERO, allows him to gauge distances, speeds, and trajectories flawlessly. While sounding useless at first, this make Doc Holliday one of the best gunfighters ever seen by HERO, and he is renowned for rarely missing a target. His customized Colt double-action revolvers and specially-crafted bullets that can bounce, explode, and do all sorts of tricks also helps to make him a feared hero killer with nearly 20 deaths attributed to him.
• Lady Blade, real name Kellen Zeng, is a professional assassin of mysterious origins. She surfaced in China decades ago, wreaking havoc for China's hero force before going dormant for a long time and now resurfacing in Castleburg as one of the five. While Holliday may be an expert ranged combatant, Lady Blade is a master martial artist and knife-wielder, carrying a variety of throwing and stabbing knives on her person at all time. Her power is unknown; some believe her to have super-reflexes, while others believe that she is, in fact, powerless. That does not make her any less dangerous, however.
• Professor Jon Gholem is a strange fit for the list. A former professor of robotics at the University of Castleburg, he left the organization after they publicly criticized and refused to provide funding for his police killbot. He went off the radar for many years before re-surfacing with the Five. Though he has no powers of his own, he is a genius and perhaps the most skilled roboticist on the planet, with a number of different models of robot to his name.
• Albino, real name Dirk Strater, is a villain originally from the Netherlands that, as his name also suggests, has albinism. He overcame bullying in his youth not through self-development but through a great deal of violence. He left his native country and came to the United States to escape justice, and became a member of the Five. His powers give him near-instant teleportation, but only to areas that are not being watched by living creatures.
• Jellyfish, real name Kevin Martin, was a Castleburg native cursed with powers that transformed him into a hideous monstrosity with gray skin, a bulbous, jellyfish-like head protrusion, and long purple tendrils. He turned to a life of crime and quickly became a member of the Five. He is believed to be able to breathe underwater, swim at extremely high speeds, and his tendrils can administer powerful electric shocks.

[ DIRECTOR'S COMMENTS ]

"These guys are no joke. They pop up, pull off some elaborate hit or crime, and then vanish again. They're difficult to deal with and difficult to track down. We've occasionally taken out individual members, but never the entire group at once. Their power isn't overwhelming, but they are crafty, sneaky, and, if you're not on your toes, very dangerous. I only want the best and most experienced heroes after them."

《 Super H.E.R.O. 》

[ H.E.R.O. UPDATE ]

Was hoping to write more but business + no idea what else I could add limited to a pretty short ending, sorry. Still, very fun introduction and a great way to introduce the characters and engage in a fun little mission.

Everybody at this point is free to do whatever they'd like. You can post a summary post detailing whatever you want, go on your own little mission, or do a collab with somebody else for additional character development or whatnot, entirely up to you and your creative discernment. You can also do it at whatever time you want, whether right after this mission or sometime in the future, though as my last post alluded to, keep it before October 9th. I tentatively plan on starting the next arc a week from today, though that deadline is subject to change. I'm also happy to review (already discussed!) new characters or modifications to existing characters in the interim.

Thanks for your participation so far, see you in a week. :)