Lord Wraith

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

“In today’s top headlines, a H.E.L.P. Albatross lost power while crossing the Pacific. Thankfully, no lives were lost as the Foundation Force was on scene within moments, Triton swimming to the rescue added by Daytripper and the Steel Shell.”

The man looked up from his drink, his eyes squinting towards the TV as he shook his head. There was something still bothering him from today’s rescue. H.E.L.P. was many things, but their equipment was top of the line, those aircraft didn’t just lose power. He absently swirled around the highball glass, listening to the ice inside clink against the tumbler.

The bar was mostly empty, the occasional regular sitting by themselves spaced out along the bar rail. Unfortunately, that made the droning sound of the TV even louder, agitating the long-haired man as he swung his drink a little too hard before dropping it with a dull thud against the bar.

“We go now to an interview recorded at the scene with the Foundation Force’s own Triton-”

“Can you turn that off?” The man suddenly roared as his own face appeared on the screen.

“Yo, buddy what’s your-” The bartender started before suddenly pausing and realizing who he was talking to. “My apologies, I didn’t realize I was serving a bonafide celebrity.”

“Would have preferred it stayed that way.”

“You’re a hero, practically a god to some people,” The bartender smiled, “Enjoy it, Triton.”

“Mack.”

“Sorry?” The bartender replied,

“My name is Makaio Tawhiri.” Mack replied, “But you can call me, Mack.”

“Well, Mack, your money is no longer good here. A hero drinks for free.”

“If I was any other Hyperhuman, would you say that?” Makaio challenged as the bartender faltered.

“Hey, if you want to pay, you want to pay,” He snapped back while raising his hands.

“How about I buy you a drink?” A woman smiled while pulling a stool up next to Makaio, “And not just because you’re him,” She added gesturing towards the TV, “I’m mostly doing it because I think you’re sexy.”

Makaio finished his drink, smiling as the woman winked her long lashes at him.

“I never turn down a drink from a beautiful woman.”

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The door to the bedroom flew off its hinges as Makaio backed through it, the woman from the bar wrapped around his torso, passionately kissing his bearded face. She wrapped her hands around his face, pulling his mouth tighter to her own, her tongue dancing against his.

She pulled at the buttons of his shirt, the small pieces of plastic giving way to the aggressive tug as they flew in every direction. Her hands traced his muscled body, feeling out every vein and scar, the lines of his tattoos.

“You probably get this a lot,” She whispered in his ear, panting in anticipation, “But you get me so, wet,”

Makaio stifled a chuckle before reaching around behind the woman’s back. The tearing of fabric echoed through the room as she excitedly squealed at his display. Placing her feet on the floor, she pushed him onto the bed before dropping to her knees and going for his belt.

A wave of sudden nausea fell over Makaio as his eyes were drawn to the necklace laid between the woman’s bosom as she knelt in front of him. A crimson cross hung on a simple silver chain. The strength rapidly drained from his body, his mind quickly connecting the dots, but still, it wasn’t fast enough.

The closet door burst open and from within two men lunged forward, each driving a spike through Makaio’s shoulders, pinning him to the bed. The Foundation Force member howled in pain, weakly attempting to fight back but the waves of nausea only increased and his abilities were non-responsive.

A cruel sneer was the last thing he saw before a click and a whir echoed through the bedroom. The weapon's hilt flew to her hand from its hiding place before the blade materialized - one quick slash severing Makaio’s head from his body.

A splattered arc of blackened crimson sprayed the wall as a deafening silence fell over the room.

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“This is a warning.”

Broadcasts all over the world were suddenly interrupted, their image becoming nothing more than gray static as a modulated voice-over spoke. Their tone was flat, yet starkly defiant.

“No more deceivers.”

An image of an attack on Times Square by Hyperion’s Children from five years ago flashed onto the screen. It was followed by images of a squad of H.E.L.P. agents intervening in an investigation. Another image flashed onto the screen, this time of the Human Hyperhuman Alliance counter-protesting for more Hyperhuman rights.

“No more heroes.”

The voice spoke again, the static image changing to display the severed head of the Foundation Force’s Triton. His long hair and beard were stained in his own freshly spilled blood. It glistened on the screen, still wet from the kill.

“No more false gods.”

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_{Location: Pacific Royal Campus - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean}

Take On Me #3.001: Brand New Numb

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: In The End

Prior to five years ago, the Homecoming Trials had always gone off without a hitch. Now again, for the second time in Pacific Royal’s history, the Trials had been disrupted. The student body was shaken, though thankfully the arrests of Naira Cameron, Lindsay Ainsworth and the rest of their House Orcinus associates had brought about a feeling of temporary relief. From the perspective of the bulk of the student body, Hyperion’s Children were dealt with, the only ones who were any wiser were the faculty and any remaining members hidden and laying low.

Staff at all levels had been briefed regarding House Orcinus, their greeting, and connection to Hyperion. They were splintered and disorganized now, without a leader and hopefully that would dissuade them doing any further harm. There was some welcome reprieve in all this, the attack by House Orcinus had taken some of the heat off of the Foundation during this tough transition.

That was bound to change.

A memo was sent out to the entire student body informing them of the uniform changes on campus. Understandably, this message was met with frustration due to the inconvenient timing. The majority of students packed only a limited wardrobe for wearing outside of academic hours. In the past forty-eight hours, the ferry to the mainland had been exceptionally busy with students of all ages venturing over to purchase new clothing, and the graduating class purchasing formal attire for their upcoming dance.

For the incoming students, Jim and the faculty had gone old school and replicated the first trial from the year the house system was introduced, back in 1990. Setting up both the Chimera’s Lair and the Thunderdome as a combination obstacle course, athletics and problem solving exercises. No augmented reality involved and medics were standing by in the event of any real world injuries. The low tech event had been a hit, and seemingly was more enjoyed than some of the previous spectacles brought about by the Hedge Trials on the Southern Plateau.

With the weekend behind them, the school had finally entered into its true academic year and the campus was buzzing with students moving between classes. It was still foreign to Jim to see the campus this alive without nary a blazer in sight. In all his years at Pacific Royal, from the time he was a student to being Chancellor, the uniform had been a constant. Scarcely updated from the day the doors opened until now, and a part of him was deeply saddened to see it gone.

Blackjack was still reeling from their experiences in the Trial, not that Jim could blame them. They had each been assigned time with counselors in order to work through what they had experienced. A team advisor had yet to be assigned and while Jim hoped that Rory would take up his offer to lead in the interim, he also knew that there was a very real possibility that Tad might not wake up and they would need to find a permanent replacement.

Most of the team’s physical injuries had been tended to. Some of the more severe injuries however needed time to fully heal and Gil was still bedridden due to the extensive damage he suffered. Even Hyperhuman healers had limits, and Blackjack’s wounds had found them. It was a surprise that none of them had been pushed into a state of Hyperpsychosis by the time they were rescued.

Initially, Torres had wanted to start Blackjack as her guinea pigs for a new sparring course, however given the state of the team and the fact that the Face of the Foundation had been called away to deal with an emergency, Jim instead had their courses rearranged to put the sparring later in the week. For the time being, they were simply attending their regular classes.

All that left was the Graduate’s Class homecoming dance at the end of the week. Calliope and Gil had made good headway, but with Gil currently still residing in the Infirmary, Jim knew Calliope would need a new hand. He had suggested that she reached out to Harper in Gil’s absence.

Hopefully, the team would get to enjoy a normal week for once.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

The catwalk had collapsed that once held the Harbinger, though his body was likely no more than wall decoration at this point, Tad on the other hand stood a chance of surviving. His abilities allowed him to adapt, but Jim had never seen them proactively work, only retroactively and that’s what scared him.

There was one relief in all this, with the Harbinger gone and the Black Site destroyed, hopefully, Pacific Royal had finally seen the last of both House Orcinus and Hyperion’s Children.

Something hit Jim’s foot and he looked down to see the form of a man encased in stone. Focussing the last of his strength, Jim extended his field, covering Tad and dragging the younger man closer.

“I’ve got you, boy.” He muttered before pressing the button as Torres had instructed.

“Well I’ll be damned, you’re still alive,” Daytripper stated, announcing his arrival. “Let’s go, looks like they got your kids free.”

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_{Location: The Southern Plateau - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean}

Hope In Hell #2.060: In The End

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: High Hopes

Jim blinked and found himself in the fresh air of the Southern Plateau. Blackjack was being escorted out of the trial, every member of the team still alive though some worse for wear than others. He could see the bruises marring Aurora’s face, a fresh scar on Lorcán, one leg of Calliope’s A.R. suit was completely gone, the exposed skin of the leg underneath plastered in burns no doubt from the hard-light that was already blistering over her knee as she limped towards a care station. Though Calliope was in better shape than Banjo who’d likely be walking with a limp for the rest of his life given the wound he had received through his left leg. Gil had fared worse than the others however and was being carried out on a stretcher. Wounds covered his body, his breathing laboured on account of the punctured lung. Where others could be treated in the field, Gil was immediately rushed to the infirmary.

Leaning down, Jim rolled Tad’s stone-encased form over, checking for any signs of life. The chest was moving, slightly but the pulse was very faint as his body had gone into an almost hibernative state. Shrapnel and debris were lodged in his torso between the rock-like plates confirming Jim’s worst fears.

“I need medics over here,” Jim yelled as a pair ran towards him. Suddenly Tad’s hand reached out, grabbing ahold of Jim’s arm.

“Bla… Hyperi… K-kck!” He managed to spit out before beginning to choke as crimson bled freely from behind his teeth and pooled over his lips. Tad’s eyes began to roll towards the back of his head.

“We’re losing him,” A medic yelled, “I need transport immediately.”

“I’ve got you, gringos,” Daytripper interrupted, placing his hands on the medic and Tad before teleporting away. Jim watched them disappear in front of him, in five years it was the second time he had to watch his protégé fight for his life because of Hyperion, whether directly or indirectly and frankly, he was done with it.

“Jim, they’re in rough shape,” Miranda stated, moving towards Jim before being cut off by one of the techs from the control room. “Amma attacked Tyler, Calliope believes her leg is missing, and Gil’s unconscious and in critical condition. Most of the rest have burns and lacerations, and that’s not even beginning to unpack the psychological damage. Haven in particular got off exceptionally lucky, her neural uplink was ripped off seconds after Michael detonated the bomb. A moment sooner and she’d be catatonic right now.”

“I need y’all to take Friend and get to the hospital, the Foundation’s teleporter just left with Thaddeus, he’s not in a good state, Miranda.” Jim ordered softly, before leaning in close to Miranda’s ear, “Thaddeus tried to warn me about something before he went unconscious, do you know if he was chasing any leads.”

“He verified the Orcinus greeting, you don’t think a member of Blackjack is…?”

“I’d hate to, but at this point, it seems all too possible,” Jim murmured back before letting Miranda go, “Y’all best hightail it, best thing for Thaddeus right now is to be surrounded by loved ones.”

Jim bit down on his cheek, kicking his jaw to the side as he surveyed the team. He had known most of these kids from the first day they stepped foot on Dundas Island. It was hard to imagine any of them would align themselves with Hyperion’s Children and betray everything this school stood for.

“Sir, you need to see this.” A tech interrupted, handing him a tablet with footage from within the Trial playing on it. Jim felt his brown furrow as he watched Rory Tyler dawn the same garb that Hyperion himself wore. He knew Tyler, Tyler while a natural leader was not the type to want to harm anyone. There was context missing, but what it did present was an opportunity.

“Torres,” Jim called, approaching the woman and Hyperman who stood beside her clad in his long red coat.

“Can y’all spare a moment, need y’all for a little ride along.” He stated before showing them the tablet.

“I don’t think Tyler is guilty, I do think though we’ve been presented with an opportunity. Clearly, Michael wanted to recruit Tyler to his causes and I have reason to believe someone on Blackjack was loyal to that cause. We’re going to take Tyler on a little ride-along and explain to him what’s going on. There’s a pretty high chance he’ll cooperate and help us catch the true member of House Orcinus.”

“That seems like an actual plan, Chancellor, not very cowboy of you.” Torres allowed the corner of her mouth to turn into a smile before her face resumed its neutral expression. “Very well, Hank, if you'd please lead the way.”

“As you wish,” Hyperman bowed slightly before the three approached Rory.

“Tyler, you look no worse for wear, was wondering if you could give us a hand.” Jim stated, looking between Rory and Haven, the former having already been seen by a healer who had taken care of his lacerations.

“Sorry to pry you away from Miss Barnes, but I assure you she’s in good hands.” The surrounding company of Torres and Hyperman left little room for the request to be optional.

“We’ll bring him right back,” Jim promised as the four climbed inside a nearby Manticore. Jim was the first to speak, turning around to Rory, before presenting the tablet.

“Firstly, y’all aren’t in trouble, this isn’t an arrest or even an accusation. We want y’alls help,” Jim stated, “What we currently know is that a splinter cell of Hyperion’s Children was operating on campus as a secret house. Blackjack was specifically targeted by this sect and in our investigation we confronted the alleged leader and several of his followers. Unfortunately, he chose death by his own hand rather than to be arrested.”

“Based on the footage from the simulation,” Torres continued, taking the tablet from Jim and turning it towards Rory, “It would seem he was grooming you. Or attempting to. Your faculty representative unfortunately is in critical condition but according to Ms. Rivers was investigating the possibility of there being a member of Hyperion’s Children on Team Blackjack.”

“Tyler,” Jim paused for a second before starting again.

“Rory,” He spoke again, this time addressing the student by his given name, “We believe y’all have the rather unique opportunity to suss out this person. I’m hoping you’d be willing to be our eyes and ears, with Thaddeus in the hospital, you’re going to be without a rep until we find someone available and no one knows Blackjack better than you.”

“Take some time,” Torres interjected, “Don’t answer now, take some time, think it over but we ask that this stays between the people in this vehicle.”

Jim offered a weak smile.

“Including Hyperman.”

“Hank is fine, Chancellor.”

“Including Hank,”

Climbing out of the Manticore, Jim opened the door for Rory, motioning for the younger man to follow him back to Haven. As they exited the vehicle, Torres turned the engine over, the Manticore purring to life as the Foundation’s representative and her colleague headed towards campus. Jim broke the silence as he walked with Rory.

“Again, think it over, y’all can always choose just to be part of the investigation or just to be your team’s lead in the interim. Let me know.” Jim said, patting Rory on the back upon delivering the boy back to Haven.

Looking around the various students being treated for their injuries, Jim gave his head a shake. It wasn’t the tragedy of five years ago, but it was tragic nonetheless. These kids were supposed to be in the best year of their life and so far it had started with them being jerked around by their degrees being pulled, and now tortured by an enemy they didn’t know they had.

The semester had scarcely begun, and it had already been a year.

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The sliding door of Torres’ balcony opened as a man entered silently, He walked into the living room where Torres sat reclined in a large chair, a satin robe draped over her figure while she aimlessly swirled a glass of red wine held haphazardly in her hand.

Without a word, the man hung his jacket, exposing a well-tailored three-piece suit underneath before he approached the bar, picking up a decanter and pouring himself a neat Scotch. He took a sip of the drink, not a drop touching the neatly trimmed beard that accented his chiselled jawline. He remained expressionless while finishing his drink before Torres finally acknowledged her guest.

“Miguel, please help yourself.”

"I assume you brought me here to ensure the experiments don't start again." The Fist replied rhetorically before topping up his drink and taking a seat across from the woman. Torres in turn nodded solemnly before also shaking her head.

"I did," She answered. Hesitation hovered on her lips as Miguel’s keen eyes studied her with an intensity that was so familiar but yet escaped her at that moment. Finally, her lips parted, releasing the words she was so reluctant to speak.

"But I fear we're much too late.”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: Southern Plateau - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Hope In Hell #2.055: Riptide

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_{Interaction(s): @Melissa - Aurora Mitchell}

Previously: Lose Yourself

The eerily white sterile walls fluctuated around Lorcán as the boy with the sun-bleached hair pushed onwards through the maze of corridors and rooms. The facility seemed to rearrange itself on a whim, becoming increasingly erratic. There were fleeting moments when the simulation completely fell away, revealing his teammates running around each other, lost in twisted mirages of their deepest fears. The honeycomb-like pattern of the floor and walls rearranged itself before the hard-light constructs reappeared and Lorcán was pulled back into the nightmare.

No simulation he had ever been in before had felt so intentional and alive, it was almost as if it was reacting to his every movement. But the shifts began to slow, hallways becoming static as Lorcán ran closer to the sound of her voice. Her cries pulled at his heartstrings while her sobs echoed in the barren hallways. Turning the corner, Lorcán felt his chest lighten as his eyes were cast upon familiar locks of copper-toned hair.

“Rora!” He called excitedly, ignoring the pains of his injuries, “Lady Dude, I’m coming!”

As she knelt on the floor, head in her hands and consumed with dread, Aurora wondered if she’d ever make it out of this twisted simulation. Her teammates were gone, had abandoned her and left her behind, and she was completely spent and drained, no HZE’s to spare. She knew she had to be strong, had been through hell and back before, but everything in this place seemed to compound, causing her to feel absolutely hopeless.

Just when she thought she was ready to throw in the towel and accept her fate, a voice, familiar and true, rang out, ricocheting off of the walls. It reverberated in her mind and in her heart.

Lorcán?

But as she turned, hoping to gaze into his familiar sunset eyes, all she could see was a bloody scar sliced down the boy's tanned face. It had been another trick of the simulation, it wasn’t the Lorcán she knew, even if his voice was so familiar and convincing. Raze had found her, chased her down like a predator to prey, and she knew she was done for. Aurora scrambled to her feet, and began to back away, the invisible barrier that had originally blocked off the hallway having disappeared, allowing her purchase. But in the back of her mind, she just hoped he’d be merciful.

“NO! Don’t come any closer!” Her baby blue eyes were wide with absolute terror, face to face with the dopplegänger once more. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” She screeched, her hands instinctively coming up to block herself. “I already told you, I won’t join you!”

The young man’s footsteps faltered as she screamed towards him, slowing to a stop just several paces away from her. Lorcán’s eyes studied her, taking a deep breath. The trial had been exhausting, and still it seemed to give no reprieve as he could only assume this Aurora was also a trick much like the other had been.

He leaned against a nearby wall, slumping down to the floor and allowing himself a rest. His face hurt, and his back was awakened with new pain as the cold of the wall irritated the burns and lacerations. A small tear of frustration welled up in the corner of his left eye, the right trying to do the same but struggling against the wound covering it.

“I just need to find my Aurora.” He lamented softly, burying his head in his hands before the environment flickered again suddenly. As the walls faded, revealing the interior of the Trial again, Lorcán’s eyes were drawn towards where Aurora was only to realize she was still there.

She was his Aurora.

The walls came back, placing the pair back in a hallway, the white tile interspersed with brick and vine as the appearance of the Foundation was beginning to melt away and the original code appeared. Excitement rose in Lorcán as he began to tap a beat against the floor before starting to hum.

“A singer in a smoky room,” He wasn’t the best singer, but Lorcán could carry a tune. “The smell of wine and cheap perfume!”

The redhead observed the boy through moisture filled eyes as he slid down the wall and sat on the floor, but kept her distance. Raze had tried to trick her once already - pretend he was someone he was not - she wasn’t going to let herself fall for it a second time. But something about his body language wasn’t the same as before, he looked like he was in pain, and his voice faltered, filled with emotion. Could it be? She took a single step towards him, but hesitated.

The simulation flickered, her neural uplink cooling momentarily as their surroundings changed and began to dissolve the Foundation’s chilling interior. But he didn’t change with it, his form didn’t waver, no he was real. Living and breathing and here.

And then he was singing that damn song that he knew got on her nerves like no other. There was so much great music out there, but for some reason this one was named an ‘anthem’; it was overused and cheesy, and yet, in that moment it was the sweetest music she’d ever heard.

It was him.

“..._Lorcán?” The redhead’s voice was cautious, soft and small, a juxtaposition to how her throat had burned from her previous yelling. Her feet moved of their own accord towards him and she knelt down to his level, even though her legs screamed in protest. She started crying again but in relief.

He hadn’t abandoned her.

He’d come to find her.

“I thought you were- I’m sorry, I- He tried to-” She couldn’t complete each thought before the next one came on, her words coming out in between gasping breaths. She gingerly reached up to cup his cheek, examining his face. “What did they do to you?”

“I had to fight myself,” Lorcán replied, placing his own hand over hers, “But like a kook version of myself, dude had a gonk cape. He wanted to ensure I remembered him, left me this souvenir.” Lorcán explained, a finger pointing towards the scar over his right eye. His other hand moved to Aurora’s face, hovering over the forming bruises.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop this,” He muttered, “I didn’t want you to be the one going through that door. I just don’t know what would have happened if I didn’t find you.” He moved his hands around Aurora’s shoulders, before pulling her in tightly, burying his face into her shoulder as he let out a small sigh of relief whilst fighting back the tears that had been welling up.

“I’m not letting go,” He teased, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Aurora grew rigid and tense at the mention of Raze, “I saw him too.” She breathed as his hand enveloped hers, committing the feeling of Lorcán’s comforting touch to memory. “I-I woke up in his garage, I thought he was you.” The redhead stuttered, wincing instinctively as he reached out towards her face. The skin was tender and painful, throbbing along with her head. “That’s why I ran from you. He tried to get me to join him and serve Hyperion, wanted me to kill my step-” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, utter his name, but as Lorcán wrapped her in his embrace, she could feel her whole body relax.

“It’s not your fault.” She reassured, bringing her hand up to run through his hair, stray tears continuing to fall down her cheeks as she attempted to regain her composure. “What happened though? I can’t remember anything after teleporting and my head really hurts, I can’t think straight.”

At his promise, she just held onto him tighter. Only moments ago, she thought he’d left her behind. Even though he did not realize it, his words meant everything and quieted the rogue thoughts in her head.

“Neither am I.”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

The sound of a distant explosion rocked the Southern Plateau as the techs left overseeing the trial continued to fight against the Harbinger’s hijack.

“The corrupted code just went offline.” The tense silence of the Trial control room broke as the tech's excited exclamation echoed through the office. Over the last two hours, they had been working with no avail to push the corrupted code out of the system, having tried everything short of cutting the power out of fear of putting those inside into a catatonic state.

“Console is going green, we have control again.”

“Power it down, medical is standing by,” A member of the faculty ordered. They had seen what Blackjack had been subjected to. Every scenario, situation and interaction had been displayed in the control room for the techs to witness. Each of them would be subject to a debriefing following today. The student body on the other hand had been ordered back to campus the minute the Trial had been hijacked. The school couldn’t risk anyone else becoming hurt or trapped, let alone traumatized by witnessing what Blackjack had gone through.

“We won’t know what injuries were real and what was the work of the simulation until we get in there, bring full trauma kits and be prepared for emergency transportation.”

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_{Location: H.E.L.P.'s Black Site - Zayas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Hope In Hell #2.051: High Hopes

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Tick Tick Boom

A faint violet glow illuminated the area above Teresa Torres as she strained her mind and body using her abilities to push against the collapsing roof. Beside her, Jim was at his breaking point, using his abilities to shield not only their allies but the nearby Orcinus students who had surrendered.

“My phone,” Grunted Torres looking toward both Jess and Miranda, “Press… the… button…” She motioned with her chin towards the dropped device as Miranda scooped it up. Outside the shield, flame and rubble consumed the Black Site, the prison had been wired to go with the Harbinger and Miranda was silently cursing herself for not catching it. She had been a hostage negotiator for H.E.L.P., she should have been able to profile Michael and realize he wasn’t walking out of this room alive.

Jessica on the other hand was nearly catatonic, her eyes unmoving from where Tad had tackled Michael. There was still hope that Tad could make it out alive, but it wasn’t something Miranda could allow herself to dwell on in the moment. Scooping the device up from the floor, Miranda pressed the button illuminated on the screen.

“Now what?” Miranda asked, looking from Torres to Jim.

“We hope.” Came the strained reply.

“Well, this sure is a pickle.” Interjected a foreign voice as Miranda turned to see a tanned olive-skinned man twitching his prominent handlebar moustache before chomping down on an unlit cigar. He flicked out a lighter, pressing it to the end of the cigar before a much larger man plucked it out of his mouth and extinguished it on the back of his hand.

“Alveraz,”

“Yeah, yeah, chief, don’t get your spandex in a knot,” Daytripper replied to Hyperman who immediately went to work placing his strength against the collapsing roof. Both Jim and Torres exhaled in relief as some of the strain was immediately taken off their shoulders.

“Guess I’ll be ‘porting you lot out of here,” The teleporter winked, wrapping a hand around Miranda’s waist and the other arm around Jess’ shoulders. “It is a real pleasure to meet you.” He winked before the three disappeared and the Daytripper reappeared, grabbing two Orcinus students before vanishing again. In a matter of moments, the Foundation Force member had cleared everyone except for his colleague, Jim, and Torres.

“Alright you three, together,” Daytripper ordered only for Jim to shake his head.

“Take them, I need to find Thaddeus.”

“I can’t let you do that, Sir,” Hyperman interjected before Torres held up a hand.

“Hank, I’ve got this,” She interjected, “Jim, you won’t be able to survive the weight,”

“I have to try.”

Torres grabbed Jim by the shoulder, before giving him a quick squeeze and releasing.

“Do what you have to do, but I’m enjoying our rivalry, so don’t die yet, cowboy.” She reached out her phone. “When you find him, hit the button and Alveraz will get you out of here,” Torres added before turning back to the two Foundation Force members.

“Get me out of here.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” Daytripper saluted and disappeared with Hyperman and Torres. The weight of the rubble above immediately shifted as Jim tried to keep his shield around himself. He gritted his teeth and bared the weight, moving quickly to get out from under the bulk of the falling debris.

He only hoped Tad was alive under all this concrete and steel.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: H.E.L.P.'s Black Site - Zayas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Hope In Hell #2.048: Tick Tick Boom

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Monkey Wrench

“Do you have any idea what it’s like cleaning up after these kids that treat you like you’re invisible?”

The Harbinger continued to rant from the balcony above while Jim and his allies defended themselves against Hyperion’s Children.

“I nearly got frostbite after the senator’s daughter blew up a sink in the bathroom. And what thanks do I get for fixing that? She just left the sink exploded to thaw out and flood the place without telling anyone. And did you or any of the rest of the faculty even ask her about it?” He screeched, “NO! Because she’s part of your precious little Blackjack.”

“So you thought trapping them in the Trial would show them the error of their ways?” Jim retorted, grappling an attacking student and wrapping his mechanical arm around their neck before putting the cloaked figure into a firm sleeper hold.

“No,” The Harbinger replied smugly, “I thought it would break them, leave their minds nearly catatonic so that you’d have a mess on your hands to clean up and have no one take responsibility.” He turned towards Torres, still hiding his face under the mask he wore.

“And if I managed to frame the Foundation and its transfer student in the process then so be it. I do have to wonder why the late Chancellor, or rather Hyperion, took such a vested interest in Amma?” The Harbinger purred.

“Did no one else find that interesting? Oh trust me, as a janitor I was a fly on the wall, privy to all sorts of private conversations. When no one sees you, they are their truest selves in front of you.”

“Whether Amma Cahors was transferred here by Kowalski or not, it doesn’t matter now,” Torres retorted, “She’s now a member of this student body and far safer here than she was with the Foundation.”

“Is she though?” The Harbinger taunted, “One of mine has gone missing, where is Robert Arkwight, Miss Torres? Don’t ‘sub-class’ Hyperhumans have a tendency to go missing with the Foundation?”

Jim watched as Torres turned three shades lighter, it was the first time she had shown fear.

“I assure you, I had nothing to do with that.” She replied before Jim turned to her.

“Are y’all as sick of listening to this blowhard as I am? Mind tossin’ me up there?” He asked Torres whose stern expression seemed to crack a smile if only for a split second.

“It would be my pleasure.” Torres replied telekinetically vaulted Jim into the air. Behind them, Tad, Jessica and Miranda were doing their best against several other members of the splinter house.

"The winds are blowing." Tad blurted out, throwing his hands up as the Orcinus members stopped dead in his tracks. Miranda and Jess both paused, turning to look at Tad.

“Wait,” A voice came from under one of the hoods, “You’re one of us? Sorry, I had no idea-” A fist smashed into the robed figure’s face crumbling him over as Tad stood over him, shaking his now throbbing hand.

“Hey, not cool,” Came a reply from another hooded figure, “You didn’t have to do that, we don’t hit our own.”

“Nope, not one of you” He snapped, decking the other speaker as his hand adapted to the pain and force.

“Just testing a theory.” His facial experience steeled as he turned to Jess and Miranda while resuming the struggle with the remaining members of House Orcinus.

“We need to get Blackjack out now!” He yelled, “I think Mike might have one more card up his sleeve to play even if we get the Trial turned off.”

“Which is exactly why Mr. Tableau here is going to tell us how to turn it off.” Jim growled, his mechanical arm lifting the quivering man in front of him. Behind them, Naira was imprisoned in a purple case of psionic energy while the rest of the House Orcinus members knelt on the ground with their hands raised above their heads.

“Y-you should be shaking in your boots, not me!” The Harbinger snapped before Jim removed his mask and any remaining bravado. Under his hood was an active neural link, the LEDs illuminated indicating it was connected.

“Sorry, I choose my friends a whole lot better than y’all do, Miranda’s been keepin’ everyone’s minds guarded from your abilities the minute we walked in here.”

“Telepath.” Mike sneered, “But even you were blind to me.”

“I won’t make that mistake twice,” Miranda replied coolly, her eyes fixing on Michael. “Amazing,” Miranda muttered, a hand rising to her temple as her voice quivered slightly. “Someone taught you how to resist me,”

“Looks like he’s plugged in,” Jim stated, turning Michael around to show the others, “I’ll get the techs to take a look at it, see if they can’t use this uplink to end the entire simulation.”

Putting Michael down on the ground, Jim moved his hand to his belt looking for the restraints he had brought from the crashed Manticore.

“Long Live Hyperion.” Micheal suddenly shouted, breaking free from Jim before throwing his robe open to reveal a bomb strapped to his chest.

“Jim!” Miranda cried as Torres quickly pushed her and Jessica out of the way before reaching for the Chancellor. In the chaos, no one noticed Tad tackle Michael to the ground. The pair of men sliding along the catwalk while Jim was pulled into the air.

And then, the bomb went off.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

“How is he settling in here?” Jonas asked, taking a seat beside Aiden on the large wrap-around porch. Behind the house, the waves of the ocean inlet lapped up against the rocking shore while the porch looked over a large yard, the Alumni Village sitting on the horizon.

“He’s adjusting, misses the noise and liveliness of the campus though,” Tori replied to Jonas’ question, placing a cold glass of iced tea down beside the Chancellor.

“Miss Clarke is working out as a tutor then? No incidents?”

“Lorcán seems quite fond of her,” Aiden replied, “Perhaps a tad too fond, but he’s working hard and his control is on par with students nearly five years his elder.”

“Boy does love a redhead,” Jonas replied with a knowing wink, as Aiden choked on his drink.

“Jonas!” Tori scolded with a smile, “No spoilers, you know that.”

“Apologies, I couldn’t help myself.” The Chancellor chuckled, “He’s a remarkable boy, an even more remarkable young man, I consider myself very honoured to be his honorary grandfather.”

“Yes, we’re very proud of Lorcán, he’s growing up so fast now. Seems like just yesterday we were watching him fight for his life in the NICU, now Lion Lungs has his H-Gene active.”

On the grass below, plasma clashed against plasma as Lorcán focused on maintaining his blade while the older redhead agilely danced around him. Aiden, Tori and Jonas turned to watch as the pair of teenagers continued to spar.

“You’re doing well, little dude.” Ryan complimented, “But you’re still overthinking.” She reprimanded feinting an attack only to come from a different angle which caused Lorcán’s blade to falter. It shattered upon impact from Ryan’s own, sending Lorcán tumbling into the grass outside of the Roth’s new family home in the Alumni Village.

“You need to stop thinking and start feeling, let your abilities be as natural as using your hand is. It should be instinctual to dodge using a boost or to block a surprise attack with a generated beam.” Ryan explained, “You’ve got a lot in your arsenal, definitely one of the broader abilities I’ve come across.”

“Keep in mind,” Aiden interjected, standing up from his seat and approaching the pair. He placed a hand on Lorcán’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Unlike Ryan or I, you’re not limited to one method of using your abilities. Ryan creates her plasma blades exclusively, and my abilities only manifest in optic blasts, but you have the ability to manipulate heat. It gives you versatility and an edge.” Aiden reminded Lorcán while watching the two train, “You have the element of surprise because you can opt for a different method of attack.”

Gripping Lorcán’s shoulders, he turned his son towards a scarecrow standing in the nearby garden. “Go ahead, try and create a heat blast using only your eyes. Think where you want the blast to go, blink, check again to make sure there’s no one in harm’s way then release your blast.”

Aiden gave Lorcán a pat on the back before stepping back. “Just remember, visualize, blink, check and then release.”

Taking a deep breath, Lorcán nodded. Concentrating on the air in front of him, he pictured two beams of fire before closing his eyes and steadying his stance. Opening his molten-coloured eyes, Lorcán watched with a smile as a pair of blasts erupted from in front of his face, spreading across the yard and igniting the scarecrow.

“And that’s how the Roth men do it.” Aiden celebrated.

“Congratulations my boy,” Jonas shouted from the porch, “We will be watching your career with great interest.”

“Couldn’t do it without my Dad,” Lorcán replied while sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, desperately hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Or Ryan,” He hastily added, this time turning a shade of beet red.

“That was so good, dude.” Ryan added.

“Now let's try again with sustaining those blades.”

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: Southern Plateau - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Hope In Hell #2.047: Lose Yourself

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Duality

"Lorcán!"

Aurora’s voice felt simultaneously near, but distant. It wasn’t the cry of the doppelgänger above him, no Lorcán knew that to be his Aurora. Watching Raze’s cruel face above him, Lorcán knew he would have only one opportunity. His grip was beginning to slip, sweaty palms, weak knees and his arms heavy.

"Lorcán, please!"

Snap back to reality.

Her scream of desperation echoed across the chasm beneath Lorcán as he continued to hang. Every muscle in his body ached, strained and pushed to their limits as only the dull, constant throbbing of his body kept him focused.

"Don't worry about Aurora," Raze sneered, watching Lorcán's ears perk at her scream. "I'll make sure she's well taken care of, in time she may even come to love me."

Raze’s words burned in Lorcán’s ears as molten eyes turned upwards defiantly. Embers flared brightly as a new flame ignited within Lorcán, the hungry fire crying out for oxygen. Summoning his strength, Lorcán pulled himself upwards, but his efforts were to no avail, he was too weak.

He was running on fumes.

Then, he felt her, his pain, his torment beckoned for her to heed his cry. Stolen glances flashed before his eyes, full lips and raven-coloured hair. He could feel her in his arms again, the smell of the forest around him. As Lorcán hung defiantly, tendrils of crimson and silver flew from the abyss below. They crawled over his skin, wrapping around every limb, digging into his pores and sending a shiver of familiar pleasure up and down his spine.

His skin felt alive and electrified as a new power flowed within him, amplified like he had never been before. His toes curled and his eyes closed, he could practically feel her tracing his back, marking him as her own while he harnessed the unforgiving chaos gifted to him. It brought renewed strength that flowed through every muscle, the strength not of just one, but the strength of two.

Letting go of the girder from which he hung, Lorcán's hands flew to his sides. A wave of heat radiated from him, explosions erupting from each palm, launching the molten-eyed young man into the air as he agilely somersaulted over his darkly mirrored counterpart.

"You will not touch her."

A blazing beam of crackling crimson plasma exploded from Lorcán's hand, the blood-like colour casting an ominous hue over Raze as the near identical man quickly retaliated, his own blade of red pale in comparison to Lorcán’s.

“You’re going to need to be more specific,” Raze taunted, “Your thoughts betray you, they dwell on not one, but two.” He grinned like a Cheshire Cat. “There is much conflict in you. we’re not that different it would seem.” Raze scoffed before lunging. Sparks flew and angry hisses echoed over the catwalk as plasma and electromagnetic fields collided.

“Even a little boost from your friends won’t save you in the end.”

“You know why I’m stronger than you?” Lorcán cried, “Because I don't have friends,” His eyes suddenly flared, a crackle of silver and crimson danced in the corners. His father’s voice echoed in his ears.

“Visualize, blink, check and then release.”

“I've got family.”

The optic blast caught Raze off guard, obliterating the scarred half of his face. The smell of burning flesh overwhelmed Lorcán’s nostrils, nearly causing him to gag as the stunned doppelgänger stumbled backwards before plummeting over the edge and into the chasm.

Lorcán could feel the temporary boost from Amma weaning, the pain of his injuries rapidly returning. Still, the day was not yet over.

“Hold on, Aurora.” He muttered aloud through gritted teeth. “I’m coming.”

“I’m right here, hot stuff.” A familiar voice suddenly called from the balcony above. “You won, come and get your prize.”

“Sorry, brah,” Lorcán replied with an apologetic but weak smirk, “I’m not settling for anything less than the real thing, so I’ll be finding my Aurora.”

The doppelgänger pouted, leaning down on the railing while her outfit threatened to cause her chest to spill out. Lorcán took one last look before shaking his head and running for the door. Aurora blew a loose strand of hair from her eyes as she watched him go.

“Some gals have all the luck.”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

As Calliope stood, she was stopped in her tracks by cold steel against the back of her head.

“I’m sorry, luv, that’s far enough.” The familiar voice of the Butler stated from behind the blonde woman. “I’m afraid I can’t let you go through with it, that boy is my meal ticket and he knows it. If you take him away, if you give him meaning, I’ll be back to where I started before all this, and I’ll be damned if that cursed line is allowed to procreate again.”

His hand quivered slightly, the barrel of the weapon causing friction against the back of the student’s head.

“I did everything I could to protect him but this juvenile crush has gone on long enough. Hopefully he gets to you before you bleed out. I wouldn’t want to rob him of the chance to say goodbye again.”

Momentary relief washed over Calliope as the weapon was removed. The weapon cocking was suddenly deafening and before she could react the sound of the shot rang out. Calliope fell to the ground, where once was two feet, now was only one, her left leg from the thigh down gone. Searing white pain overtook the shock and blood was rapidly exiting from the open wound.

“I’d get a tourniquet on that if I were you, luv.” The Butler responded while nodding towards the bloodied stump where her leg had once been, and then he too, so like much of the Trial, vanished, leaving Calliope alone in the dark to bleed out.

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: H.E.L.P.'s Black Site - Zayas Island, Pacific Ocean}

Hope In Hell #2.039: Monkey Wrench

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: I Walk the Line

In the short months that the Black Site had been decommissioned, the age and humidity of the island had rapidly caught up with it, leaving the interior damp and reeking of mold and mildew. Still, Jim noted, it was void of the usual dust no doubt thanks in part to the traffic the site was still seeing thanks to Hyperion’s Children.

“Hold up,” Jim ordered, raising a hand before motioning to Torres to flank the entrance. “We have company.” He raised his weapon, while Torres produced her own.

“Jim,” Miranda’s voice called from the other side of the door, “It’s just Tad and I.”

“How do I know ya’ll ain’t Cameron?” Jim called back.

“Your favourite bourbon is Howler Head, but you always pour it into a decanter and dispose of the bottle so people don’t know you enjoy a banana flavoured bourbon.” Miranda replied. Torres raised an eyebrow while Jim let out a low chuckle.

“Happy to have y’all along.” He stated, stepping out of the shadows as Miranda and Tad joined him and Torres.

“I take it Miss Friend is here as well then?” Jim asked as Miranda nodded.

“Or at least she was when we had Cameron, congratulations on avoiding death again.”

“If Hyperion weren’t about to kill me, I ain’t about to let his bargain bin knockoff do it.” Jim retorted as the group headed further into the belly of the beast.

“This is all very sentimental, but I am hoping the pair of you have a plan.”

“Them?” Tad’s tone was incredulous. “They’re cowboys, I assumed you being here meant there was a plan, with all due respect Ms. Torres.”

“Big damn heroes.” Torres scolded as Jim beamed.

“Ain’t we just.”

Following the corridor deeper into the prison, the group emerged into a common area only to be greeted by several robed figures. Standing on the guard catwalk above was the Harbinger and beside him Naira Cameron holding Jessica with a blade pushed firm against the woman’s throat.

“Welcome, Chancellor and Interlopers.” The Harbinger gloated, their glee-laden baritone echoed through the large room. “I understand you have been looking for us.” They paced back and forth above the room, clearly amused he finally had the chancellor before him.

“You’re too late to save the students. Even if their minds haven’t crumpled from the strain, by now they’ve been wounded, maimed and potentially even killed. The team that dared stand defiant against our savior, broken by his successor. Look upon my works ye and despair.”

“Y’all look pretty stupid in those bathrobes. What is this, the spa from hell?” Jim smiled, his eyes focusing on Jessica’s neck. “This little game is at an end, take your mask off, put down any weapons and we’ll all walk out of here, hand in hand.”

“I believe,we have the numbers.” The Harbinger raised their hands as several more darkly clad figures emerged.

“Do you realize who I am?” Torres stepped forward, interjecting herself. “I am the Face of the Foundation. With a press of this button,” She started, showing her phone screen. “I will have the Foundation Force bring this entire building to rubble. You might be able to intimidate these teenagers into following you with your abilities,”

The Harbinger faltered slightly at the accusation.

“I’m sure Miss Rivers can verify my hypothesis, but even standing here now I can feel you trying to manipulate fear and awe from me. I have been in the presence of men and women far greater than you, I know a cheap imitation.”

“Well Miranda?” Jim asked, as the dark haired woman nodded.

“Their thoughts are well guarded, but I can feel their mind struggling to maintain their ability. Ms. Torres is correct.”

“No!” The Harbinger protested, “No! I am somebody you should fear.”

“Michael…” Miranda interjected, “Michael Tableau?”

“Mike the Janitor?” Tad blurted, stifling a laugh. “Hyperion’s Children are taking orders from Mike the Janitor?”

“Kill her.” The Harbinger ordered as Naira nodded only to find the knife wouldn’t move as a purple haze emerged between the blade and Jessica’s neck. Suddenly Jessica brought her heel down hard on Naira’s foot, before throwing the back of her head hard into the shapeshifter’s nose. Blood splattered across Naira’s face, the girl unable to regain her composure before Jessica managed to hoist Naira over her shoulder and off the catwalk.

“Thaddeus Finch, if you so much as spooned her, the wedding is off.” Jessica cried before vaulting over the catwalk to join her friends.

“Kill them all!” The Harbinger screamed. “Don’t let them escape with their lives, their insolence must be punished!”

But the cloaked students faltered, hesitating as Torres continued to hover her thumb over the button on her phone screen.

“That totally is Mike the Janitor,” Tad rolled his eyes before walking forward and hugging Jessica as she rejoined her rescuers.

“I always thought he shot spaghetti-os out of his nose.”

“Don’t just stand there!” The Harbinger screamed, “Get them! Now!”

A wave of energy washed over the room as something changed within the cloaked students. The Harbinger was pushing himself towards Hyperpsychosis to ensure he went down fighting. Looking from Miranda to Torres and back to Tad and Jessica, Jim muttered before spinning the barrel of his revolver as he put a new bullet in the chamber.

“And just when I thought it was over.”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Southern Plateau - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean}

Hope In Hell #2.037: I Walk The Line

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: No Angels

Behind Jim, Adam dropped to the forest floor. A clean wound through his shoulder took the rage out of the beast as the young man howled in pain. Lindsay on the other hand was unable to move as Torres held her tightly in her telekinetic grip.

“You dropped this,” Torres snarked, floating the weapon back to Jim who snatched it out of the air and hastily holstered it.

“I suppose y’all have my gratitude,” He replied, his hand wandering to his ribs before his winced. As the adrenaline began to die down, the pain racing through his body began to rise.

“How’d y’all find me?” Jim asked, his eyes darting back to Adam to make sure the older student was in fact downed.

“Your island isn’t that big,” Torres replied dryly, “A vehicle taking an impromptu trip offroad leaves a mark. Happened to be on my way to observe the Trial, though I’m hearing you’re having some trouble with that. Are things always like this with you in charge?” Torres asked.

“Oh darlin’,” Jim replied, “Things were like this long before I was in charge.” He examined the damage to his arm, giving his hand a few flexes before checking the elbow and shoulder. Satisfied, Jim secured his holster before retrieving his Stetson from where it had been blasted to by Lindsay’s attacks.

Thankfully, the hat was miraculously unmarred.

“If’n ya’ll be excusin’ me, one of them got away and I’d very much like to track that whale back to the whole pod.”

“Not without backup you’re not.” Torres responded as Jim reluctantly moved aside, gesturing for her to follow him.

“Though I don’t know how you allowed an entire terrorist cell to fester under your nose this whole time.” Torres added with a disapproving tone.

“People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, darlin’.” Jim smiled with a wink of his gruff face. “We both know y’all got more than a few problems in your pipin’ based on the smell coming from your sewer.” He added, giving Torres a pat on the shoulder before he continued to speak while walking.

“Hyperion’s loyalists fled P.R.C.U. after he was dealt with. It wasn’t until the Foundation removed all incarcerees from the islands that we started to hear whispers of growing numbers. Clearly, their ranks had been culled at some point, but to pull a stunt like this they wanted attention. The question is why.” Jim mused while Torres kept pace beside him.

“The Foundation somehow has garnered a reputation for being Hyperhuman first over the last couple of years,” Torres replied, “Based on the reputation of Hyperion, if anything your so-called loyalists probably figured helping our goals actually would aid theirs.” She paused, studying the hastily trampled forest floor.

“It looks like they were heading to the coast.”

“Not the coast,” Jim grunted, his bruised ribs making themselves known again. “The Black Site.”

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

Ünterland:

Ünterland or Umbra, is the mirror world occupied by the Magni and the Hellions.A world that parallels that of the Mundane, it lives in a state of anachronisms and arrested development, technology having peaked in the Victorian Era and supplemented by magic and alchemy to rival the modern technology of the mundane world.

Architecture and settlements in Umbra primarily mirror the major cities and population centers of the mundane world. However most smaller towns and villages are sparse, unable to flourish due to the Hellions present among the natural flora and fauna shared by both worlds.

Major cities are hubs of trade and commerce with the primary economy running on the barter system though valuables and currency exist but vary from Draoi to Hexenbrut to the Fair Folk to the Dwellers.

The residents of Umbra, the Magni have a split seelen or soul, the Überseelen and Unterseele. The Überseele, or oversoul is seated in the brain. It contains the thoughts, memories, and personality of an individual. Whereas the Unterseele or undersoul is seated in the heart. It contains the appetites, emotions and fears of an individual.

Hyperhumans however have a unified soul made for the mundane world but upon entering Umbra it begins to fracture before fragmenting into tangible shards. These fragments draw the attention of Hellions and can empower them and grant them powers they normally would be unable to possess. Hyperhumans on the other hand, lose their abilities in Umbra, and furthermore are trapped until they re-unite their shattered souls.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{| A Day Ago}

The corridors of the former Black Site had always given Naira Cameron the creeps. But she walked with pride, the Harbinger had chosen her. There was something exhilarating about being in the presence of the Harbinger, they had an atmosphere about them that commanded respect, Naira couldn’t help but be in awe of the power they wielded from the makeshift throne they sat upon.

For the past year, Naira had been working for the Harbinger using her ability to maintain the alias of Pallyx Penada. Under this alias, the Harbinger had been able to get Pallyx into the system and ultimately onto Team Blackjack, a personal sleight against the chancellor’s former team and both Thaddeus Finch and Andrew Olyphant who personally defied Hyperion.

With the announcement of the degrees being stripped away from Pacific Royal, the opportunity to further drive a wedge between the students and the Foundation was at hand. It was simply the icing on the cake to ensure Blackjack suffered for Orcinus’ gain. Pallyx would simply leave, and Naira would move to the next part of the Harbinger’s plan.

A gloved hand reached towards Naira, holding within it a small USB drive.

“You’ve done well this far, my child. Truly you are a Child of Hyperion.”

"The winds are blowing." Naira replied with a bow.

"But the surface is still." The Harbinger answered, “You will need faculty access to the Trial, with your talents, but also you’ll need the student card of one of the Trial’s architects to write the code. Opportunity won’t knock twice, we need to strike while they’re confused and vulnerable.”

“Yes, Harbinger.” Naira stood to rise, “And should any of ours become ensnared in the trap?”

“Then they die for the glory of Hyperion.”

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Southern Plateau - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean}

Hope In Hell #2.035: No Angels

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Cult of Personality

“Structural integrity is currently at 61%.”

Another blast rocked the Manticore before the sound of something slicing into its armor filled the cabin. The back door was suddenly pried from its hinges as Naira climbed out, smiling smugly to her awaiting cohorts.

“Structural integrity is currently at 39%. Vehicle stability is compromised.”

“What do we do with him?”

“We have to kill him, he knows too much.” Naira replied, “The whole faculty is onto us, the mission is a failure. If we kill the Chancellor we have a chance to get away.”

“If we kill the Chancellor, it’s an open declaration of war.” Replied a male voice.

“We already did that the minute we tampered with the Trial.”

“She’s right.” A female voice interjected.

“I’m not doing it,” The male snapped, “Hyperhumans shouldn’t be killing other Hyperhumans, we’re supposed to be lifting each other up.”

“Sometimes,” Naira responded with a cruel smirk, “You have to crack a couple of eggs to make an omelette.” She turned to the woman beside her, “If Adam won’t do it, how about you?”

Picking up a nearby rock, the women smiled before charging it with kinetic energy, turning the stone from a projectile into a grenade.

“Jim wrote my parents last year, said I was a troubled youth, I spent my entire summer break bouncing from therapist to therapist. He wasted my summer, I’m happy to waste him.”

She launched the rock into the vehicle, the explosion quickly engulfed the interior while Adam shook his head.

“I can’t believe it came to this.”

“Where’s the beast?” Naira teased, “Never would I expect Lindsay to have more of a wild side than you.”

Adam roared, bearing his long, pointed teeth as the animal-like Hyperhuman gave a sullen look towards the burned-out vehicle.

“Suppose you want me to drag that wreck into the ocean-” He started to ask before a violet glow from the vehicle caught his attention. Turning to Lindsay, he raised a furry brow, “Is that you-”

The words didn’t make it out of his mouth before a wall of psychic energy smashed into his face, toppling Adam into the thick trunk of a nearby tree. From the other side of the vehicle, the driver’s side door exploded open as Jim toppled onto the ground, encased in a glow bubble of psionic energy. Lindsay smiled, reaching into the pouch she wore and producing a sleeve of metal slugs. Ejecting one into her hands, it immediately began to glow before she hurled the charged object towards Jim. Raising his metal arm and projecting a shield in front of it, Jim braced for the impact.

The explosion caused his eyes to blur as he was temporarily blinded while his cowboys dug into the soft moss covered floor of the ravine. He slid backwards, before turning to retaliate.

“Ainsworth, why I am not surprised y’all are caught up in this mess.” Jim drawled sarcastically.

“Go to hell!” Lindsay replied while repeatedly pelting Jim with explosives. Behind her, Naira looked between Lindsay and Adam before ultimately making a run for it, abandoning the other Orcinus members.

“Oh, you bitch.” Lindsay snapped from between gritted teeth while Jim began to close ground. “You better hope he kills me, Cameron! I’m coming for you, next!”

“I’d pay more attention to the fight y’all are in before picking more.” Jim suddenly leapt over the wreckage of the vehicle that had been separating the pair. Lindsay didn’t have time to react before suddenly Jim was tackled out of the air. A roar echoing through the trees as Adam re-entered the fray. His eyes were gone to bloodlust as the bear-like man tackled Jim to the ground. Jim winced as his skull bounced off a rock, his impact barely padded by a hastily made shield.

Scrambling for his sidearm, Jim managed to draw it from his holster only for Adam’s claws to tear it from his hand, sending the large revolver spinning across the verdant forest floor. Adam reared his head back, his pointed ears flat against the mane-covered skull. His protruding jaws snapped open, before rushing towards Jim’s neck.

Raising his metal arm, Jim grimaced as Adam bit down hard enough to bend and dent the metal shell. But it was the moment he needed. Using Adam’s locked jaw as leverage, Jim managed to get out from the much larger man, scrambling towards his firearm before coming face to face with the barrel of his own gun.

The weapon floated in front of him, the safety pulled back as none other than Teresa Torres stood near the wrecked Manticore. Lindsay’s eyes darted from Jim to Torres and then back to Jim with a smile. The birds in the trees above suddenly made themselves sparse as the sound of the revolver echoed through the trees.