Lord Wraith

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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

Human #5.001: Before You Go

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: What I've Done

The week had flown by and what was left of both Blackjack and Eclipse sat gathered on the beach, watching the ebb and flow of the tide while the flickering flames of the campfire danced about in the darkness. This was the end of their time at Pacific Royal and the mood was heavy, Drinks and snacks alike sat untouched as each member of the group stared at their feet, counting the grains of sand that laid between them.

Just a month ago, Blackjack had been a full team of twelve. But now, even with the last three members of Eclipse joining them they were only eleven. Pallyx had been revealed to be an imposter, Calliope was dead, Mei was gone and no one had seen or heard from Katja since the dance.

Worst of all, Amma had been dragged into the abyss, gone, presumably dead or worse, going down with whatever the hell it was that had attacked them. They had no answers, they had no resolutions. This Daedalus wasn’t caught and instead it had been Jim who had been taken away in cuffs.

A decision laid before each of them, go home or go to the Foundation’s Institute. It wasn’t a decision to be made lightly but also it wasn’t a decision that was easy to make for those among them who didn’t have a home to return to. No matter, they couldn’t stay on the Island, not without being able to afford a house within the Alumni Village.

For sale signs had already been posted in front of the homes of those who couldn’t find work, while mainlanders had already been visiting hoping for cheap real-estate on the ‘island of freaks’. The campus had already begun to be blocked off, with temporary fences erected along the main pathways while the A.R.C. sat in the same dilapidated condition that the Chernobog left it in.

After tonight the dorms would be sealed and in the morning the ferry would leave one last time. It was sobering and depressing and the heavy mood hung like a weight over the group. A stifled sob echoed out over the beach while gloomy music played gently in the background, barely audible above the waves.

Tear filled eyes desperately searched one another waiting for someone to be the first to break the trepid silence.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

If the scene following the Trial looked bad, then Jim was out of adjectives to describe the scene unfolding in the A.R.C. As the ice was thawed, the death toll rose and those with life threatening injuries grew to numbers that exceeded the facilities available on the campus grounds. Of the nearly hundred members of the graduating class, thirty percent were deceased and nearly all of the remaining seventy were injured in some capacity.

Not even during Hyperion’s reign of terror had P.R.C.U. seen such devastation. It was all Jim could do to keep moving, helping with the injured and keeping the living from going catatonic looking at the dead. Perhaps that’s why Jim didn’t realize that Torres had drawn her last breath in his arm. Perhaps that’s why Jim didn’t realize the sun was coming up when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

He certainly didn’t realize the handcuffs were on his wrists until he was escorted into the helicopter landed in the middle of campus, watching as his world grew smaller and smaller before it was gone.

^{_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

Kneeling beside a small gravestone, Miguel Ramos kissed the rose in his hand and placed it at the foot of the tomb stone. His head hung low, a whispered prayer coming from between his lips before he stood and stepped away.

“I’m sorry,” He stated, “I couldn’t be there,” His voice cracked.

“I didn’t save her.”

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_{Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean}

Dance Monkey #4.094: What I've Done

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Down to Hell

“Effective immediately, Pacific Royal Collegiate & University along with its facilities are closed.” The voice boomed over the gathered student body. What used to fill the stadium had severely diminished in the last few months, and the senior class that was set to graduate this year further so following the Chernobog’s attack.

Immediately following the attack, Jim O’Neil had been removed from his position as Chancellor, with the Director of H.E.L.P., Winter Caspian momentarily stepping in to assume the role for the last week before the Alexandria Foundation had petitioned for P.R.C.U.'s immediate closure. Those in power were more than happy to help, especially the effort’s spearhead who was none other than Senator Garcia de León still mourning the loss of his daughter.

“Students will of course be offered a position at the Alexandria Foundation, and arrangements will be made to transport their belongings at their earliest convenience. Students who decline this offer will be responsible for finding their own arrangements. “ The speaker continued, his voice void of empathy, his body language clearly disgusted even having stepped foot on these ‘cursed’ grounds.

“I suggest you all decide quickly, this campus is now seized by the Canadian Government and a notice of seven days has been issued to residents to clear out. After this time, any lingering students will be seen as trespassing and will be subject to enforcement by local authorities.”

A murmur moved through the student body, anger rose in the din of voices before the speaker continued.

“Former Chancellor James O’Neil has been found guilty on numerous accounts of criminal neglect in his operation of this school and will be facing imprisonment due to lives lost under his command. A formal investigation has been launched into the senior staff as well, and there is an ongoing class action lawsuit launched by the parents of students who lost their lives during the event known as the ahem,” He paused, clearing his throat with a subtle roll of his eyes.

“The ‘Chernobog Attack.’” Allowing the words a moment to sink in, he turned his page over and continued to read. “These factors have left the government with no choice but to intervene in what has now been dubbed a misguided social experiment. The Alexandria Foundation has also been denied control of the campus and its land due to being unable to produce a deed. With the deed signed by Dr. Jonas Lehrer absent, Dundas Islands and its subsidiaries revert back to the possession of the Canadian Government.”

“And what about the Alumni village and the homes there?” Aiden Roth’s voice could be heard above the angry voices.

“The Alumni Village will be evaluated for property and real estate value, taxes and land holder fees will be assessed and assigned to those who reside there. It will be absorbed as part of British Columbia and subjected to both provincial and municipal laws.”

“This is our home.”

“You can’t make us leave!”

“These students should be safe to finish their education here.”

“If these students were ‘safe’, none of this would be happening.” The speaker replied, slamming his hands down on the pedestal to bring about order to the assembly. “The issue is that Pacific Royal Collegiate & University is the largest gathering of Hyperhumans in the world in a known and static location. It draws attention of the worst kind to the young and vulnerable.”

“Yeah and the Alexandria Foundation doesn’t have that problem,” Another yelled sarcastically.

“The Alexandria Foundation has made promising improvements to their security and management in the past year that has the full support-”

“Bribed!”

“Full unbiased support of this council.” The speaker added. “There are consequences, and unfortunately this soil has seen a lot of spilled blood. It is the opinion of the council that even one named death should have been enough to close this school, now I am looking at a list that exceeds a single page, with more unconfirmed.” He shook his head.

“Change is difficult to accept, but this is for the better. The world is improving, you do not need the safety of this island.”

At that comment, the crowd exploded. Security swarmed to the representative as they escorted him from the stadium and left the student body to unpack the news.

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Upon returning to their dorms, students would quickly find notices to vacate the premises. Eviction was plastered all over their dorms. A sense of utter hopelessness filled what was lift of the dwindling student body while recruiters from the Foundation set up stations in every hallway, tempting passersby to the rival school.

“Find your identity today with the Alexandria Foundation’s Institute!” They called, displaying the Institute's flotilla style school. Pictures of the Foundation Force were interspersed as ‘inspiration’ and examples of the school’s elite alumni.

“You could be the next Hyperman or Miragal!” The video cheerfully exclaimed.

“Let's hope you’re not the next Triton,” A murmur replied drawing a sharp glance from the recruiter. Hushed agreement filled the hallway as students came and went, some immediately leaving, returning to homes they had waiting, while others paced back and forth on cell phones, before reluctantly signing for the Foundation with nowhere else left to go.

And slowly, P.R.C.U. became a ghost town.

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“Y’all sure keep strange company,” Jim proclaimed as the door opened to reveal Summer Carlyle first followed by none other than Yoshi Nakamura. The interrogation room was small, further emphasized by the pounding wall of sea outside the glass looking out into the depths of the Atlantic.

“Miss Carlyle has her uses.” Nakamura replied before motioning towards her handcuffs, “But I assure you she is still very much a prisoner here.”

The black eye covering one half of Jim’s face throbbing as blood from his split lip pooled against his lower teeth.

“I take it this is the hard way then?” He replied.

“Unfortunately so,” Nakamura responded before taking a seat beside Summer.

“Now where is the deed to Pacific Royal Collegiate and University?”

“Go to hell.”

“Miss Carlyle?” Nakamure asked as Summer’s eyes began to glow, “Proceed.”

Even Jim’s resolve was not enough to stop the scream that followed.

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In the Northern Forest beneath a pile of leaves laid a body undiscovered by neither the Hunter nor the concerned family. The student had wandered too far, mistaken for having left the island and so one came further looking for them. A discarded mask and shredded black robes lay on the ground beside her, a bag spilled open to reveal a student card before the body suddenly jerked upright. Limbs previously caught in rigour mortis snapped and popped as new life poured through the empty vessel.

Blackened eyes looked around the dark woods as she shielded her new face from sunlight before standing. The smells, the sounds, the sights, the vessel was weak and required sustenance, or else it would burn out too quickly.

Rolling their head, several cracks could be heard from the neck of their new body, before they looked around eagerly licking their canines, a single utterance escaping from between pursed lips.

“I wonder if mundanes are still just as delicious.”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island}

Dance Monkey #4.089: Down to Hell

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_{Interaction(s): Amma Cahors - @Rockette, Luce Calder - @Roman, Haven Barnes - @Skai}

Previously: Move

”Why…can’t you just…fucking leave us alone?!”

Luce’s desperate defiance was lost on the emotionless monster currently leering over her. It neither possessed sympathy nor empathy. All humanity that its host had once possessed was stripped away entirely leaving only a weapon. Though it lacked the subtlety of its predecessor, the Chernobog was seemingly unstoppable.

“Leave you alone?” The Chernobog replied, almost indignant, “You opted to engage me, I didn’t instigate this bloodshed.” Raising a bloodied claw to its mouth, the creature’s long forked tongue flicked out, either side thirsty licking its finger before satisfying smacking its lips at Luce’s taste.

“I would dare say, this has been fun though.”

“Then why let the fun end?” A blinding explosion caused the Chernobog to shield its eyes, staggering backwards as Cassander rejoined the fray, moving between himself and Luce. The Chernobog roared in retaliation, moving to finish Cassander once and for all before a voice stopped it dead in its tracks.

“Take me and end this.” Haven cried, a tear running a line through the blood on her cheek. “Please, no more suffering.”

“Mother,” The Chernobog replied, kneeling to embrace Haven. Its arms wrapped around her like a pair of anacondas before it moved its massive hands to either side of her face and lifted her tear-filled eyes to face its own.

“It’s too late for that now.” He replied. His hands suddenly fell to Haven’s shoulders, reaching past and taking hold of her wings. A pair of sickening snaps echoed through the tense room. Haven dropped to the floor, her dress quickly turning from green to rust-stained as the Chernobog stood over her, a bloody, tattered wing clutched in either hand. Several feathers fluttered to the floor, sticking to the thick crimson spill beside Haven.

“Father only needs your blood.”

Sobs echoed all around the Chernobog as it stood before the massacre it had unleashed. Those not encased in ice were left maimed and beaten. The stench of blood and piss filled a room that previously had smelled like sex and candy.

“Robert,” Jim roared, appealing to the man instead of the beast, “Robert I need you to stop this.”

“There is no Robert left,” The shell of a man spat, “Only Chernobog. You couldn’t save Robert, anymore than you could save any of those who left. Those who never made it home.” A throaty chuckle followed the sinister tone.

“She cried for him, you know? Her lover, her last breath, barely a whimper by the end as Father took the last of her life,” The beast taunted, “‘Andrew!’ It was for ‘Andrew’, ‘Andrew, save me,’.” Each word was emphasized by a mist from the mutant’s cold breath escaping his mouth as if to drive the point home exactly who he was talking about.

“And then without another word, she was gone, soon to be forgotten. Just like you, just like our little Dove.”

Horror and guilt suddenly plagued the winded redhead as she moved a hand to wipe the sweat and blood from her brow. Alyssa hadn’t felt this powerless in a long time as she rested on her blade. She had been too slow to save Luce, too slow to save Haven. She couldn’t afford to hesitate any longer. Locking eyes with Luce, she looked for her approval, but with the pain, Luce’s eyes were fighting to simply stay open.

Her hand moved to the clutch, palmed the smooth stone etched with the Enochian character ‘van’. A parting gift from Ellara, a desperate ploy if they ever needed such. If the Chernobog was near invulnerable to conventional harm, then it was time to send it somewhere unconventional.

“Go to Sheol,”

With a flick of her wrist, Alyssa hurled the disk like stone through the air, the object sticking the Chernobog, transferring the rune to the beast. Pushing herself, Alyssa scrambled to Haven’s fallen form, tackling the girl out of the way as the Chernobog began to glow.

A sphere of energy burst forth from the rune before a vacuum began to consume the creature.

“No!” The Chernobog roared. The scraping of its claws against the floor assaulted the ears of those nearby as it struggled against the inevitable. Its eyes darted to Amma, and in one last desperate move, a hand wrapped around the young woman’s ankle, dragging her off of her feet and along with him.

It wasn’t enough, no matter the melody that hummed away within her heart, no matter the shimmering whisper of golden light that cracked and splintered through obsidian walls, the name spoken from the most profound void of self – it wasn’t enough. Amma screamed and sobbed as final tendrils of her power lifted and spun away from her trembling figure, as some whisked away and found themselves lingering as tendrils of warmth to the rest of her teammates, the last remaining pieces of Ammaranthe as she was and could ever be.

And then they were gone.

Silence fell over the room, just as suddenly as the Chernobog had crashed through the room, it had vanished into the vacuum created by Alyssa. But the damage had been done, and lives had been lost.

Today, Daedalus had won.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island}

Dance Monkey #4.081: Move

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_{Interaction(s): Gil Galahad - @Roman, Haven Barnes - @Skai}

Previously: Hysteria

The three pairs of defiant eyes elicited a raised eyebrow beneath the horned brow of the Chernobog. He took a step forward and was immediately met with a flurry of punches and kicks as the Gils made their attempt. Unflinching, the Chernobog continued towards Haven before a kick to his groan managed to get a twitch of annoyance from the looming figure and brought him to a halt. He slowly looked between the shell game of clones before deciding his opening move.

“Pity, I wish there were more of you.” He uttered, the disappointment evident before he moved into action. Grabbing a hold of the first Gil, the Chernobog’s large hand wrapped around and ankle and hoisted the man into the air. The sudden jerk ripping his hip out of its socket before the first clone was smashed into the other. The sound of flesh and bone simultaneously breaking echoed through the frozen walls of students whilst spraying them in a warm crimson mist that emanated steam against the icy surface.

Another swing of the first Gil, this time towards the third left standing before he was scooped into the air and sent cantering into the rafters before collapsing in a heap atop the balcony.

Wrapping a hand around both legs of the Gil he held and another around his neck, the Chernobog tossed his arms hapzardly back, ripping the man in half and spraying Haven with the clone's innards.

“Do you have any more insects to throw at me or are we quite done with this game?” The Chernobog asked, “Amma, Ammaranthe, it matters not, Tiamat consumes all.”

“Bigger than you.” A voice broke through the chaos and suffering as the flickering lights illuminated a head adorned in fiery hair. Stepping forward a blade formed around her hand and quickly cut the train from the floor length dress she had been wearing. Tearing a slit in the side, she kicked her heels to the side, a swirling form of liquid metal wrapping itself her opposite hand.

“Pardon?” The gargoyle asked with a sneer.

“Bigger than you, I have felled bigger than you.”

“I find that unlikely.”

“I assumed you would, which is why I wanted your attention on me and not Lucille Calder.”

“No!” The Chernobog roared, turning to pounce on Haven only to be blocked by a purple shield of energy.

“Together!” Alyssa yelled, darting around the shield as Jim came in beside Haven.

“I’ve got Tyler, but I need you to follow me.” He ordered.

“Can you do that?”

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

"Quem com ferro fere, com ferro será ferido."

_{Location: New York City - New York, U.S.A.}

Concrete Jungle #1.02: Power Princess

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: City of Gods

Panic had begun to set in over the city as Yara emerged onto the street. News choppers raced overhead heading South West from Manhattan’s center back in the direction her train had come from. The skies overhead had become dark, as winds whipped between the towering buildings tossing the hood of her sweater about and whipping her long black hair across her face.

Tying it back quickly, the yoga pants-clad young woman shielded her eyes from dust and wind while watching the helicopters overhead, a news broadcast blaring from a nearby radio.

“...Several tourists have been swept into the waters of the New York Harbour surrounding the Statue of Liberty as reports of unforeseen swells are threatening to break the flood wall surrounding the island.”

Pulling her hood over her head, Yara didn’t hesitate a moment longer. She knew she could help those people and could likely get on the scene faster than either the Coast Guard or Search and Rescue in the current conditions.

Her hood lasted all of five seconds before it fell, but it didn’t matter as Yara took her first leap, leaving the street behind as she leapt a tall building in a single bound. The crowd below let out a sound of ‘awe’ and while Yara knew she wasn’t the Superman of Metropolis, it still felt good to elicit some wonder from people.

Renata would be less than pleased, but she’d never been able to stop Yara from helping in the past. After all, of those who had much, much was demanded. And it’s not like the superpowered young woman wanted to watch as people drowned. In New York, she was a nobody, just a face in the crowd. She could be a hero here because people wouldn’t remember the person, they’d remember the act.

In Boise, she was defined by who she was, but in New York, she could be defined by what she did.

Bounding across rooftops, it didn’t take Yara long to reach the Bay. Skidding to a stop, she paused, looking down at the waves and taking a deep breath.

She could swim.

She could. Her internal monologue repeated as the Brazilian woman reassured herself. Swallowing, she dove from the rooftop, over the barrier and the pier, launching herself into the Bay. Whistling air was suddenly replaced by the water’s cold embrace as Yara felt the shock nearly force the air from her lungs.

But the water felt almost homely, even soaking through her clothes, Yara felt connected to the water and suddenly it propelled her forward like a helping friend. She crossed the gap toward the island in what felt like no time at all before her arms were wrapping around the first victim.

“Hold on, sir,” Yara yelled over the waves and wind, “I’ve got you.”

- -First Issue: City of Gods	-	-	-	Next Issue: Hell Or High Water-	-	Latest Issue: Power Princess

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

You have no intention of that and you know it

@Sep

Not in the next post...

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

I promise Jason Blood and Etrigan will appear in this story...

Eventually?

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

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_{Location: 418 SW RavensView Drive - Portland, Oregan - United States of America}

Who You Gonna Call? #1.05: Vampyre

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Angel

“Breathe in-” The calming voice echoed across the front room of the small bungalow as a woman’s voice emitted from a nearby speaker. The ‘Best Guided Meditations’ playlist continued as the man in the center of the room took another breath, attempting to follow the instructions presented by the woman’s recorded voice.

It had been six thousand, five hundred and seventy-four days since the last incident.

The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted through the living room, passing under Monroe’s nose as he continued his meditation. Taking another breath, he inhaled the tempting aroma, his enhanced olfactory senses picking apart each underlying scent and isolating the ingredients in the cookies.

The substitute eggs and butter had a particularly overwhelming scent he was accustomed to. While not always the most appetizing, they also flame the bloodlust within the reformed man. It was important to maintain his routine, the clockmaker had long taken a vow of ‘Erlangen Wieder Weidmann’ to ensure there were no further incidents and the healthy habits helped keep that vow intact.

As did remaining undisturbed.

A series of three loud knocks on the door caused Monroe to open an eye. Taking a fresh whiff of the air, the familiar woodsy cologne caused a reluctant smile to cross his face.

“Monroe?” Rosalee’s voice yelled from upstairs, “Who’s at the door?”

“Just Nick, honey,” Monroe replied to his wife before swinging the large arched door open and greeting the dark-haired detective. The vintage yellow Volkswagen Beetle parked out front of the small bungalow was dwarfed by the large unmarked Dodge Character.

“Monroe, I’ve got a problem,” Nick stated stepping inside as Monroe was left holding the door.

“Yeah, sure, come in.” Monroe replied dryly, “Great to see you Monroe, have you lost weight?” He continued before following the detective into his own living room.

“Sorry, Monroe, I’ve just got three bodies already and if the pattern persists, it’s only going to get worse.” Nick apologized, “What do you know about vampires?”

“You’ve got vampyre problems? Here?” Monroe replied with surprise, “Portland falls under the protection of the Pack, vampyres are strictly prohibited from hunting within Pack territory, the Monarchy knows this.”

“Whoa, Monroe,” Nick interrupted, “I’m going to need some context, what are you talking about?”

“Well, as a Grimm, you’re already aware of the Wesen Pack, the council that oversees all therianthropes in coalition with the Royals or ‘Alphas’ as they also prefer.” Monroe began, “Vampyre, and other various kinds of ‘undead’ are under the rule of the Monarchy, a set of self-imposed rulers who also have claimed territories. Wesen and vampyre, or rather the Upyri, spent centuries at war with one another until they were eventually united against common enemies.”

“The Grimms?”

Monroe nodded, “And of course the Slayer, but she wasn’t near as populous as you Grimms.” He took a deep breath, massaging his temples before leaning back in an armchair that must have been from the Victorian era by Nick’s estimate.

“Either way, you’ve got a delicate situation to navigate. If your vampyre isn’t caught soon, this could escalate into a situation that might even cause a war between the Pack and the Monarchy. And when that happens, it’s only ever humans that lose.” Monroe lamented, “Though, humans are getting more and more terrifying every day, did you see the news about-”

“Monroe,” Nick chided slightly, “Do we need to consider that this could be politically motivated? Could it be some kind of retaliation? Would Black Claw attack vampires?”

“Were your victims Wesen?” Monroe asked.

“Not that I could tell,” Nick replied.

“Then doubtful, the Pack and the Monarchy have historically not gotten along, but thanks to the Watcher Council, a pact was brokered between them. Like I said, Portland falls under the Pack, but we’re surrounded by the Monarchy both in the North and South. It’s still going to be a sticky situation to get involved in. I suggest you stake your vampire and call it a day.” He said moving his arm through the air while holding an imaginary peg.

“Just like that?”

Monroe mimed the gesture a second time.

“Just like that.”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island}

Dance Monkey #4.078: Hysteria

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_{Interaction(s): Amma Cahors - @Rockette, Haven Barnes - @Skai, Rory Tyler - @Webboysurf}

Previously: Chernobog

“There will be no running.” The Chernobog interrupted loudly, its keen ears. “And there will be none of this.” Its nostrils suddenly flared, a gout of icy breath directed towards Rory, encasing his legs where he stood before the towering creature’s keen eyes darted from Haven to Amma and back to Haven.

“If you run, I will break both your wings and your legs.” He cautioned, a powerful flap of his own wings emitting a shockwave that pushed everyone back save for Rory who was frozen in place.

“Like this.”

For someone so large, it was terrifying how fast the Chernobog closed the gap between himself and Rory. A sickening ‘CRACK’ echoed throughout the A.R.C. whilst Rory crumbled to the ground, chunks of shattered ice around his body while the sight of his own femur greeted the young man.

The creature’s prehensile tail lashed out, cracking like a whip before halving the still ringing phone beneath Haven. Its attention now turned to Amma before it began to speak again.

“You think her to be your ally?” The Chernobog asked, motioning its horns towards Amma. “Perhaps the woman you knew here is, but Tiamat is not.” His stoic face slightly turned into a smile.

“She who bore us all, Ummu-Hubur,” The Chernobog hissed watching Amma like a predator stalks its prey.

Ummu-Hubur,
Ummu-Hubur,
Ummu Hubur,

The beast of a man continued to chant before suddenly resuming speech.

“By day I can not rest, by night I can not lie down in peace. Let there be lamentation until I can lie down again.”

His voice suddenly changed, almost monotone and robotic before ordering.

“Tiamat, you have a mission to resume.” His eyes darted towards a redheaded woman atop the balcony before returning to Haven.

“And you’re coming with me, Dove.”

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island}

Dance Monkey #4.076: Chernobog

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_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Dance, Dance

Leathery wings beat against the night sky, their span stretching easily while over the width of four grown men. Muscles rippled through the vein-covered membrane that was stretched over painfully grown bone and sinew. Frigid breath exhaled sharply from flared nostrils beneath a horned brow. Each flap of its powerful wings was like a thunderclap above the cold night sky above the Pacific Ocean.

Circling the island below, the louds and music of the emitting from the A.R.C. drew its attention before it plunged towards the ground below. Drones rose through the air to meet the large object, detecting the HZEs and isolating the creature as a threat but the countermeasures failed to stop the gargoyle as its arctic breath stopped the drones in their path, dropping the frozen devices towards the ground, harbingers of panic and fear preceding the collision of the creature with the roof of the A.R.C.

A dull thud echoed above the music inside as it landed. The structure shook under the weight of the towering creature. A chilling roar echoed through the night sky sending some scurrying for their dorms while others sought shelter in the nearest open building.

Dropping down to all fours, the gargoyle tucked its wings against its back before sharp claws dug into the steel exterior of the A.R.C. as it moved about. The punctures echoed and metal hissed in brief resistance before suddenly silence fell over the Senior Formal.

But it didn’t last.

Screams filled the dancefloor and students ran for the nearest exits only to be frozen solid as a barrier of ice appeared. Shrapnel rained from above before the creature gracefully plummeted into the center of the dance. The projected theme glitch and faded in places where circuitry was cleaved apart. As the creature fell, its wings extended enough to catch the brunt of the forceful impact. Red eyes peered through the terrified crowd, a guttural growl filling its throat as it looked from one student to the next before fixing its glare on Haven before its head slowly trailed to Amma.

“Hello, mothers.”

The words hung in the air for the briefest of moments as the present members of Blackjack were forced to take in the carnage. Fleeing students frozen in ice, the roof of the A.R.C. now possessing a skylight, and a ten foot tall creature with near impenetrable skin, horns, claws and wings stood in the center of the room, its eyes ravenously fixed on two of their own.

“I’m afraid, I need you both to come with me.” The creature uttered again, its speech fair from mindless, composed, prime, even proper if not downright posh. “The father is expecting you both,” It looked around at those who stood ready for a fight.

“I’d be happy to dispatch any interlopers who dare challenge the Chernobog.”

“Dispatch this!” Cassander suddenly roared over the crowd, his fist crackling with energy as he landed a blow on the unflinching creature. The explosion emitted a blinding blast but when it cleared, the group was greeted by the sight of the Chernobog unhindered, simply holding Cassander by the throat.

“I am saddened by you,” The gargoyle replied, slowly beginning to squeeze before suddenly finding its vice-like grip being resisted, an opposing force pushing its hand open.

“Let him go.” Torres ordered, appearing suddenly as she approached the creature with authority and intent, “I know Daedalus sent you, and I know this isn’t you, you can resist him, search yourself, the person you used to be is still there.”

Cassander was suddenly dropped to the ground, quickly scrambling backwards while Torres continued to negotiate with the towering creature. Its upper lip curled in disgust before an uttered reply came from beneath gritted, pointed teeth.

“They are dead, there is only the Chernobog.” Without warning, its clawed hand backhanded Torres across the chest. A crimson arc splattered those nearby as she fell back to the ground, sliding across the glitching floor before coming to a rest. Blood poured freely from the woman’s lower ribcage and abdomen where claw marks had easily cleaved skin clean from his bone.

“Mothers, come.” The creature commanded again, “Before I have to embarrass anymore of your… friends.” A mist of frigid air erupted from its nostrils as it snorted in defiance, its eyes resting firmly on Rory before it offered a large hand towards the pair of young women.

“I’m getting impatient.”