Pacifista

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

They’d agreed to wait. It only made the most sense. Things were hectic all over and for Jean to drop everything into one endeavor perhaps wasn’t the smartest. She wondered if Scott thought that maybe her feelings would cool, but for days on end they consumed her.

It’s true that it wasn’t her priority. When she had a bit of time she took a bit of an evening flight, dressing in dark clothing and using her telekenesis to roam about while Nathan slept and Scott worked. She was plagued with constant pangs in her heart and visions of one thing or another going wrong at the apartment, but she was only planning on being gone for an hour. She promised herself that much. It was an interesting experience: she had never used her powers for such a long period of time on such a relatively large object, and once she got the hang of it she was zooming about. It had taken her 5 minutes to return from the neighborhood that it took her 15 to reach at first. The biggest difficulty was navigation: she hadn’t been outside much at all at night, let alone at this elevation. She kept her phone on her and powered off, just in case, and put LED lights they had for power outages by her window, set to green and gold, so she’d know exactly where to fly in when she came back.

She hadn’t been flying errantly. While getting a lay of the land was part of the purpose, she also kept her mind out for the green skinned boy. She’d probed rather deeply last time, getting full scenes of his memories that had given him the burning feelings that would cause one to take a gun to an elementary school. While it wasn’t something she liked to do, as usual fearing potential negative effects, it gave her more than enough of a flavor of how he thought, which she hoped would allow her to detect him. Baltimore wasn’t exactly the most idyllic city, and the only place she could think to find who she was looking for was in the worst areas. And with her mind opened, she more keenly felt their bitterness, anger, their fractured minds, the cries of bliss from transient pleasures like alcohol or drugs. She’d intended to stay out searching for half an hour, but had to leave after half that. It was too much for her. It always had been. Those pushed to the dregs of society, those on the bus commute, to walking the streets: everyone was struggling in their own ways constantly. Suicidal thoughts, fantasies of violence and destruction, deep cries of agony behind smiling faces, a weight of heavy anxiety. She managed through her day to day because she’d gotten rather good at shutting it off, turning it into background noise. She hadn’t opened it in a long time, for good reason.

Was it selfish of her to only be trying to help one person? She knew that if she did everything she could for everyone in front of her, she’d break down. She’d done it before, at school she’d tried to push together two people who had silent crushes on one another, but it fell apart. Perhaps it would have gone that way eventually had it happened at all, but Jean still felt guilty and responsible for a role she took that none could ever have guessed at. Wasn’t being a superhero just tackling the loudest, largest problems? Mercifully, she hadn’t crossed paths with anything particularly troubling tonight. She wouldn’t be sure what she’d do if she did, not until she got to that point. She hadn’t really been in a fight before. But she’d have to take it all in stride. Seeing those two lights as she returned home, she wanted to believe in the power of symbols. Finding Nathan to be perfectly alright, she tried to get some rest, but any sleep she found was rather light.

-----

Hopping up the stairs, Jean returned from another day at work, eager to see Scott again. Their disparate schedules was a rough concession, but it made those daily moments all the more of a treasure. A bag bounced at her side, excitement uncontainable as she entered.

Scott popped his head out of the kitchen. “Hey! Hey, what’ve you got there?”

Putting down her things, a bit of apprehension came to her. “Don’t be mad.”

Scaott gave a light smile and a shake of his head as he returned to the kitchen, the smell of his pot of chili emanating through the house. “I can’t get mad at you, not for anything superhero related at least.”

Jean had just turned the corner, mouth agape. “How did you-”

She was interrupted by a soft kiss on the lips, Scott slipping the paper bag out of her hands. “I just knew!” Taking a peek inside, he observed, “Green and gold, huh?”

“I thought that X-genes are just a part of the evolutionary process, so green is a tie to nature. I thought about red because, well, Firebird, but I don’t want to be thought of as aggressive. Gold can be seen as representing compassion and optimism, and that’s really want I want to inspir-oh!” Jean shuffled through the bag of fabric, pulling out a piece of construction paper. “I was thinking about how to hide my identity and came up with this with the kids in class, what do you think?” Putting the piece of paper over her face, she looked through the two big eye holes. The page sat on her nose with two large triangle flaps pointing upward.

“Made with?” Scott raised an eyebrow.

She dropped the page. “Some of them have been excited about superheroes being real, and a lot of them have been anxious. So I thought it would be fun to try and have them think about being heroes themselves. We just used construction paper to make masks.”

“...You exploited child labor?”

“No!” Jean and Scott broke into laughter for a good few seconds. Wiping at her eyes, Jean looked over to see Nathan looking up at them from the other side of his barrier, a clear longing to be with them on his face.

A little while later, they sat at the table, Jean with her laptop, the TV in the other room on and playing Channel 5, all of them with food. They mask was set nearby, Jean stealing glances at it and starting to admit to herself that her design sense wasn’t the strongest.

“I think a mask is a good idea, I just don’t know if you should reveal so much of your face. And how were you going to conceal your voice? If one of your students or their parents or anyone recognizes you then it’ll be a sh...poopstorm.” Scott stole a glance at Nathan, using his finger to wipe some of the food that spilled onto his chin.

“You also don’t really like it,” Jean said knowingly.

Scott admitted, “It might look better when you actually get around to making it properly. Where are you going to get a sewing machine?”

Jean hadn’t made a costume in a while, but it wasn’t as though she lacked experience. “I bet one of the other teachers has one, if I say it’s for Halloween they might lend it out.” Scott dwelled on that, Jean catching a few of his reasonable misgivings. Would they want to see the finished product? Even if they just saw green and gold fabric, if a red haired hero wearing it popped up out of the blue, mask or not… “I’ll figure it out. For the voice though...I haven’t thought about it yet, augh.” She bowed her head, taking a bite of chili and listening to the TV a bit in the lull of conversation.

“- that could have been avoided if law enforcement were properly equipped to fight back against these powered individuals. If we could rely on our civil servants instead of vigilantes and the odd mutant with a conscience.”

Freezing mid bite, Jean blinked, stunned like she’d just received a slap. She turned to Scott, who’d similarly stopped with a spoonful in front of his mouth before dropping it back into his bowl. They didn’t need to exchange a word, both of them standing and moving to the living room to get a better look at the TV. They watched the young CEO of Stark Industries parading about the stage decorated with metal men in various colors with weapons out and visible on many of them. The name said it all: War Machine. Jean leaned back in her seat, a trembling hand over her face. Scott gripped the arm of the couch, veins bulging from his hand.

“He- he did not just-”

“Can’t take the mask off if there wasn’t one in the first place!” Scott leaned forward, heel bouncing on the ground. A few feet away Nathan let out a low whine.

“People are saying the police need to be de-funded and he calls it War Machine! He said law enforcement, didn’t he?” She paused as he did. And the crowd continued to clap and cheer. That was the worst part. She felt her insides crashing down, each clap like a sledgehammer to an old mansion. It made her sick. Disgusted even.

It took a minute or so for them to gather themselves. “Jean, I’m sorry for ever doubting you.” He put a hand on her back, stroking it softly. “If you weren’t going out there, after seeing that I’d be the one figuring something out.”

Jean’s breath was starting to steady, but each deep breath still shook her. Looking back at the screen as Tony introduced his War Machine pilots, she caught the suit or armor sitting as a centerpiece. “I’m so glad I didn’t go red and gold, ugh.” Scott managed a smile, pressing his forehead against Jean’s shoulder. “The ‘odd mutant with a conscience’, oh what I wouldn’t do to give him a piece of my mind.” She clutched at the air before storming from the couch, giving Nathan a reassuring kiss on the forehead and snatching another bite of food. Taking him in her arms, she floated his high chair and their bowls of food back to the living room, Scott watching with awe and trepidation.

“So what, they’re going to put a War Machine in every major city in the US? I have to buy half my school supplies for my one class but the BPD are going to get a shiny new toy to crash through the Basilica.”

“Or we’ll just get fresh take on the Gun Trace Task Force. Dear god if someone takes a joy ride in that thing...who thought this was a good idea? A whole room of the smartest minds in the countr-”

Scott stopped dead as the next exposition began, a mammoth in red and purple emerging: a bona fide mech straight out of the pages of science fiction. Its face and shape were roughly human, yet it displayed no humanity whatsoever. Bolivar’s Tasks words didn’t carry any either. ‘Human problem’, ‘DNA scan’, ‘mutant gene’, ‘registration’. Each of these words and phrases sucked all the air out of the room. She and Scott went deathly quiet. Hand trembling, Scott turned off the TV. Their bowls were placed down, the contents destined to grow cold. They didn’t have much appetite any more. Jean stood for a moment, picking Nathan up. With a flash of her mind, the paper mask on the table fluttered into the trash can and she sat back down. Scott wrapped his arm around the two of them. She looked into his sunglasses before leaning in, pressing her head against his chest, feeling his warmth, so needed right now to stave away the cold fears gripping their hearts. She gently stroked Nathan’s back, holding him close. She knew she and Scott were thinking the same thing. If Trask’s Sentinels rolled out, there would be no hiding. So Jean wasn’t going to hide, come hell or high water.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

SIX MONTHS AGO

---

Vic didn’t know why it was so cold. Not freezing, no, freezing didn’t seem to exist here. He’d caught a glimpse of the surface once when he was brought here. Vast stretches of ecumenopolis in between towering pillars spewing endless flame. It shouldn’t have been a place that could support life. Certainly not human life, and yet, here he was staring up at a dark stone ceiling. His breath came in and out but he didn’t feel any air moving. He moved his right eye. His left didn’t want to work, nor did the rest of his body. Vic had sleep paralysis once before. It had been peak football season and his knee had been acting up. He hadn't told anyone, just in case he was benched in his last school year. His grades were slipping and his parents were getting on his case (like he wasn’t still valedictorian material with a 3.9 as opposed to a 4.1). He’d known they were just worried about him, and it’s not like they were wrong, what with how stressed he’d been. Stressed enough to have a bout of sleep paralysis, he’d assumed. They were parents and he was just a kid, it’s what they were supposed do. He didn't remember what their faces looked like anymore. He just imagined them with purple eyes and the overbite of the only humanoid face he’d seen, one that plagued him like a ghost since he’d gotten here. He still had the feeling of them and the love or annoyance they’d given, holding on to everything through his waking moments to keep it from slipping away, but he felt like it was slipping away always. Was the grass of the football field always gray? All his memories had been tinted to red and orange for that was all he’d seen. That and black, like the shadows that filled every corner and the whips that tore his flesh when he had misstep on his menial labor of moving stones back and forth across a field for no reason other than to do it with no end in sight. Come to think of it, it’d been football sized. Moving stones back and forth for no reason: it was all the same.

He heard laughter and chills went down his spine. It was low, droning, and forced, made because there was no other choice rather than out of true mirth. Laughter itself was a crime here, mirth more of a privilege than anything. He wondered who was laughing, but it was him. He wasn’t in sleep paralysis, he was awake indeed. Why couldn’t he feel anything but the stone he lay his head on? A sharp grip found his scalp, pulling the skin under his curly hair. A face curled over him: the dull purple stare and bald head of Dr. Bedlam causing him to go still. He held a lone finger up to his lips. “Shhhhhh, the delicate part is almost done. I will forgive you just this once, but should anyone else hear then there will be not a thing I can do for you. Not a thing! And I’m already taking care of everything for you.”

Vic could speak but he didn’t want to. Instead he tried to move his body, but it wouldn’t listen. His eyes flickered but he couldn’t even see past his nose. He felt fear but his heartbeat seemed distant and stable. Dr. Bedlam casually wondered, “Do you want to see?” Victor didn’t say yes or no. Bedlam took it as a yes. Flashing his teeth, his grip was a bit more gentle this time. He pulled Victor up and he saw a segmented length glistening red expect where metal plates were installed, small metal arms working on coating the structure with machinery. Wires and cables were attached to what remained of his spinal column, going off to other machines. He couldn’t feel his feet because he had no feet. He couⱢdn’t feel arms because he had no arm𝕤. He cou𝚲dn’t bod𝚢 had n𝘖 body. C𝇈uldn’𝛕 fe𝀣l no l𝛦gs no leg𝛓s ꧶ould︖’t feel bac𛱘 no ︸꤂uldn’t feel fi𝈆gers cou꠵d꣣꣤꣤nꢓt ꠷o lungꚘ elbowꜦs heꞵrt nail꣔ stꕕmach coꔅuldn’t ䷽eel no꒤ thin︙

He screamed he screamed he screamed he screamed he screamed he screamed he screamed he screamed he screamed he screamed even though he didn’t have a throat or lungs or vocal chords so he couldn’t stop

---

“HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

ONE WEEK AGO

---

---

Victor jumped with a start. His right eye was greeted with darkness, slowly adjusting to the low light of night. His red eye flashed with warnings, highlighting danger as a gold and green bug eyed monster with small metal wings and a black firearm stood over him. Victor threw aside his blanket, gray with a coarse texture, but the gun already fired, a red beam of energy sending him back to the floor before he could do more than sit up. The concrete was scoured by the metal of his silver limbs as Victor rolled to his feet. There was a crack, and he saw stars, head colliding with the small bridge under the walking path he’d found to sleep under. His skull might have been metal, but the skin still bled, the brain within knocking lightly. Generally, Victor treasured the piece of humanity he had left, but now it wasn’t doing him any favors. He felt a rough shove from behind, a second parademon giving him a brutal shove. He splattered into the dirt, the two of them letting out shrieks that might have been laughter. No, not laughter, not from Apokolips. They were war cries of victory sung too soon. Fingers melting away, a cannon took the place of his arm, a sonic blast fired off. The wooden bridge was reduced to splinters, and the parademons were blasted back. Getting back to his feet, Victor leapt at the nearest one. With a feral roar, he plunged his remaining fist into his face again and again. Though they were monsters there was flesh underneath, and Victor brought out of hiding. Another blast hit him on the back but after being buffeted he turned his sonic cannon on them and tore them to shreds before going back to his main prey, launching another fist into the puddle of flesh.

It only found dirt. Frantically patting the ground, Victor didn’t find even a stain. Jumping to his feet his head swiveled around, there was no sign of parademon or weapon anywhere, only the destruction left behind from his cannon, its technology beyond this world. Running fingers across his forehead he rolled the blood and sweat he found between his finger and thumb. The messages from his red eye still flashed.

STRESS LEVELS HEIGHTENED. APPLY SEDATIVE? Y/N

Dismissing it, Victor closed his eye, letting his thoughts quell, letting sleep the nightmare that had awoken him every night since he returned to Earth. He fought to escape for what? A family he couldn’t bring himself to see? A prison he was still trapped in? Mirthless, he laughed. It was the one freedom he’d earned. Stooping down, he grabbed his blanket, pulling it from the rubble and shaking it free of as many splinters as he could. Draping it over his shoulders he walked off, going parallel to the city lights of LA, for he didn’t know where to go but in whatever arbitrary direction he’d decided was forward.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Oh yeah, I’ve been following the convo but I didn’t even think to chime in even though I’m technically relevant lol.

I don’t have plans for Slade/Deathstroke as much as I have small potential ideas that could be done with a myriad of characters, I’m sure. I specifically didn't dedicate myself to him because he's cool and it wouldn't surprise me if someone wanted to scoop him up. @Theyra If there’s collab potential we can talk about it. Though I’m not familiar with the character outside of adaptations (Teen Titans 2003 and Young Justice) where he’s pretty much a villain, and the rules do technically state only canon heroes and anti-heroes can be applied for. I’m sure there’s gray area (Magneto for example is primarily a villain, but has been anti-hero at times I think, and Hillan’s app was accepted), I’m just not sure what the GM ruling would be, but since Sep was the one who offered it in the first place I assume it’d be fine!

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

Met with a rush of cool, dry air, Rachel caught her breath, water speckling the pavement from the lot of them. Garfield shifted into a golden lab, moving a polite distance away before shaking himself out. The mages were conferring in Chinese, using magic to accomplish some drying and taking note of any wounds. Pulling off her cloak and attempting to wring it out, to little effect, she saw from the signs reading ‘Riviera Country Club’ that they were in- “...A golf course parking lot?”

The disciple looked over. “It was the best I could think of on short notice!”

As he went back to his conversation, Rachel winced when Garfield suddenly collapsed with a yelp. Turning back into a human, he shifted to a sitting position. In the light of the empty parking lot, she could see spots of blood where he’d been bitten, and his limbs were trembling. Turning to Rachel, he smiled. “Got some MP left in you?”

Shaking her head in disapproval, regardless she approached, cloak squelching as she took a seat, the cool water against her skin already wearing on her patience. “You owe me.” He let out a sigh of relief as she started healing him, her mind muttering the whole while, I can use this, I can use this...

The two looked up as the disciple reached them, stooping down and taking a seat with a grunt. “If you were not there to commune with Baroshtok, then what were you doing?”

Rachel sneered. “I could ask you the same.”

“You struck first, you can answer first.”

Narrowing her eyes for a moment, she sighed before her tongue wove the lies she’d settled on in the last minute or so. “I was meditating when I detected something off about that recycling plant. I wanted to find out why it had a magical signature.”

“And you attacked us because…?”

“You were threatened by my presence and I was outnumbered. What should I have done?”

“I dunno, talked?”

The disciple studied Rachel before admitting to Gar, “No, that can be read as an act of hostility in itself, at least when it comes to mages.” He sighed. “Very well. You may have initiated, but I did escalate. Let’s leave it at that.” Taking a deep breath, he began, “Baroshtok is a being from another dimension. A powerful one. Our discipline had been using a particular vanishing spell to dispose of unwanted materials and banish dangerous objects. Rather than some unknowable void, they were being sent to a region in realms beyond ruled by Baroshtok. They believed they were receiving tributes of worship from some primitive beings, and investigated. When they discovered we were using his domain as a garbage dump, they were outraged, demanding recompense. We settled on an arrangement: for ten years we would be allowed to continue using our vanishing spell while we discovered a new one, but they would also be allowed to use our home to offload their garbage in exchange. This is the last year and they’ve gotten even more aggressive about the sent waste. I’m thankful they give us warning about where their refuse is offloaded, but mostly it’s been at that plant. The magical signature you detected was the result of the plant being used for ten years as Baroshtok’s dumping ground. When all of this is over, it will be gone in another few years, I’m sure.” Rachel’s shoulders fell, as did her expression. “This time was more dangerous than ever. I would have needed backup, but you had the problem well in hand, so I should thank you.”

As Rachel retreated into herself mentally, losing focus, Garfield turned from her to the mage, butting in, “Hey, the, uh, necromancy: what’s up with that?”

“Ah. Baroshtok’s dimension is a plane closer to the natural order of the universe, more primordial and much more in tune with magic. Even their equivalent to bugs can tap into it through sheer instinct and affinity, where we need years of study to emulate that power. The corpse was closer in kind to Baroshtok: I prey it was found already infested and sent here. I shudder to think if Baroshtok deliberately sent the bug filled corpse, but I will report this to my superior. There’s nothing for you two to worry about.” Satisfied, he began to turn off, but finished, “You are rather talented, girl. If you wish to further yourself in magical arts, you are welcome to come with me.”

Eyes shooting up at him, Rachel’s head not moving at all, she clicked her tongue. “Not interested.”

Giving a slight nod, he simply replied. “Right then.” Moving away, he waved the other two along and summoned one last portal, vanishing into the night.

-----

Still too exhausted to move far, the two teens made their way to a bench to catch their breath, shivering as they tried to air dry. A security guard wandered by, but they were able to wave him off with promises that they’d be gone soon. He just laughed at the assumption that they’d been caught in the sprinklers while messing around, but Garfield was just glad he didn’t get crap for being a mutant.

Calming his lip as it trembled from the chill, Garfield asked, “You okay?”

Rachel bit her lip, nails digging into her knee. She tried to stand, but her legs didn’t listen. So instead she just lowered her head, getting as close as she could to a fetal position before letting out a scream. A primal shout of disdain and palpable frustration. The nearby plants and foliage shuddered and shook, black magic tearing leaves and weak branches apart. Garfield himself was buffeted, holding firm by sheer instinct. Once it was quelled, she sat up, breathing heavily. “I have a mission. A purpose. I’ve been training for years. My father prepared me to do his bidding, and I was going to invoke his name over literal garbage.” Looking down at her hand, she bared her teeth before biting down, catching a fold of flesh behind her knuckle. She didn’t draw blood even as she held for a few seconds, but the teeth marks were very visible when she pulled away. It seemed to calm her, and the recognition only made Garfield’s heart sink even further. “I don’t need your pity. The only one I care about thinks I’m trash, or rightfully should after that display.” Once again she tried to stand, and once again she failed utterly, letting out a cry of frustration.

“...I don’t think you’re trash.” Garfield said meekly. Rachel didn’t respond. Garfield still didn’t even know her name. He barely knew anything about her. Yet still, he sat here, refusing to leave her side. How could he? For everything he didn’t know, the blanks he filled in were painting another picture. He couldn’t imagine what personal demons she was fighting. Earlier when she said the mages were ‘trying to stop her’ he assumed she’d trashed the plant for no particular reason but to lash out, releasing something bottled up inside. Even if he’d been wrong then, it wasn’t wrong now. Maybe Gar was being unimaginably cocky, but dammit, for as messed up as his life was, he felt like leaving this girl alone was the worst thing he could possibly do.

“Hey...did I ever get your name?”

She sat silently for a few seconds, before weakly croaking out, “Rachel.”

Garfield gave a slow, solemn nod. “Okay...Ray-Ray.” Her eyes flashed red.

“Don't you dare!”
“Don't you dare!”

Garfield held up his hands, the edges of his lips cracking into a smile despite himself. Nostrils flaring, Rachel cooled down. That brief moment of anger targeted at something else brought her back to her senses. She realized what bothered her about Garfield: sensing his emotions only baffled her more and more as he refused to have the reaction she expected from him.

“Look, you messed up once. It’s not the end of the world!” Rachel didn’t have the energy to retort. “I don’t know who your dad is-” Rachel turned on him, so he decided to choose his next words wisely, “...But if he can’t accept one failure from you then I don’t know if what he expects is really all that reasonable. Is it really that bad?”

Rachel rubbed the part of her hand she bit moments ago, the teeth marks being replaced by red irritation. “I’ve never failed before.”

“Uh, have you ever even seriously tried something before now?” Rachel’s resounding silence told Garfield enough. He kept his last follow up to himself, instead offering, “Annnd...what if I helped you?”

Once the words sank in, Rachel nearly jumped out of her spot. “Wh-what?” Garfield hadn’t heard anyone be that audibly thrown for a loop before, her words weak and lacking all her normal bluster.

“Well, you’re like a witch and I can be your familiar! Would you prefer toad *gribbit*, cat *meooow*, rat *squeaksqueak*, snake *sssss*, or owl *hoo?*”

Rachel’s expression was beyond frustration. “No! And if you turn into an owl again I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to a dog.”

Back to normal, Garfield grinned. “Aw come on you look like you loved Harry Potter when you were a kid!”

“No, I didn’t, because books and movies are a waste of time!”

“Not enough of a waste if you knew enough to catch the reference!”

Rachel planted her palm on her forehead gem, letting out a long, tired sigh. Taking a breath, she finally found the energy to stand, mystifying herself as much as she surprised Garfield. “You know what? If you really think you have what it takes to be my familiar, we can do the ritual tomorrow. But frankly I don’t think you have it in you. You don’t even know what my mission is.”

Getting combative, Garfield stood. “Can’t be that bad. We kicked that corpse’s butt!”

Rachel turned on him, looking up at the taller boy. “I want to emblazon my father’s sigil on enough places of magical power to call him here to Earth, where he’ll inhabit my form and use the charred corpse of this worthless rock called Earth as a stepping stone to make the whole dimension fall to his boundless power.”

“...”

“...”

“...What?”

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

With a roar, Garfield swatted the first two parasites that charged him with casual slaps of his grizzly paw. One flopped about, nearby bisected, screeching in distress, while the other was more or less intact, bouncing back immediately only to be shrouded in darkness and flung aside, crashing into the metal opening of a cardboard baler and flopping out of sight. Rachel did the same to the next parasites to come at them. The third and second bashed into the first before the metal gate crashed down, sealing the parasites in side before the baler started into motion, a press made to compact hundreds of cardboard boxes slowly falling upon the writhing intruders. In moments they’d be splattered about the machine's innards, but Rachel would be rather distracted. A few of the parasites overwhelmed Garfield, biting into his flesh. He let out a snarl of pain before digging his teeth into one on his arm, ripping it off. The skin tore, fur speckled with blood, but it held firm.

“Ả̴̹z̵̢̋̕a̴̩͛̂r̵̲̯̈͘a̴̧͙̍̿t̸̡̛̠̿h̵͙̋ ̵̲̺̒M̷̤̒͐è̵̡t̵͊͆͜ṙ̸̥̣i̸̩̙͆̏ȍ̶̯̪͠ņ̵̃ ̵̛̯̦̚Ż̴͚ḯ̵̫n̴̰̔̔ṱ̷̒̇h̷̲̲̒ơ̵̙̫s̶̛̤͈!̴̨͎̅” came Rachel’s cry, a valley of darkness carving through the corpse. A few parasites were caught in the path, torn asunder, but the greatest effect was that it gave many of the others pause, blocking their potential route. Garfield didn’t hesitate to make use of the opportunity, turning into a bright green hummingbird, the gorging parasites flopping to the ground, grasping for anything in reach with their maws. Wings beating like mad, he zipped upwards before shifting into a bulky hippopotamus, turning the parasites beneath him to jelly.

Standing up, now in his human form, he grunted, “Ow. Big things really do fall hard...” Putting some distance between himself and the corpse, the two of them watched the parasites write, their howls reaching a crescendo of sorts. The bodies of the fallen began to fluctuate, sticking to one another to form grotesque, shattered chimeras their few parts still amalgamating in all the wrong ways.

Rachel had never been so bewildered. “Did they just cast necromancy?”

“Wizard zombie corpse worms?! That middle part just feels redundant,” Garfield echoed with his own disbelief, kicking the nearest one away with his tennis shoe. A glob of fused parasites shuffled awkwardly on the ground towards Garfield, the young man took a stance to change before the very air rippled, bisecting it horizontally. Rachel and Gar turned to see the disciple had awoken.

“It’s not so strange, not where they’re from.” Garfield turned into a gorilla, wailing on the nearest parasite zombies and ripping them apart again, Rachel hissed, “Ä̵̻̉z̷̥̃͠a̶͉͝r̶̛͜a̴͚̹͋t̴̯̀h̴̛͕ ̴̧̛̳̈́M̴̠̈́e̵̟̚t̵̞̭͆̍r̷̛͖͒ḯ̵̟o̴̪͠n̴̥̿̈́ ̶̢̹͊̑Z̶̧̐ḯ̸̠̚n̴̰̏̈ͅt̶͚̐̚h̵̘̯̓̆ǒ̴̠̜͂s̶̨̺͋!̸̱̿̇” The whole of the corpse’s side shuddered, flipping up and over, Rachel turning it around and trapping some of the parasites underneath.

“Magic is a primal force of nature. It’s humanity that has left magic, not magic that has left humanity.” Clapping his hand together, the space in front of him twisted and warped, sparks of flame encircling another window through space. Rachel winced as a rush of hot air and stench of sulfur washed over her. Orange-yellow light washed into the room, and smoke started to rise from the gateway to a far off volcano. “Thus we simply return it all to nature.”

Rachel exchanged looks with Garfield, who stopped his carnage to swap forms. “You chop it up, I put it in the bowl?” Rachel’s acceptance was silent, the girl throwing on her hood and floating up into the air, arms out to the side “Ä̵̲͉́̀z̷̹͙̃a̴̻̍͘r̵̹͝ä̵͍́͊ṯ̵̽h̶̓́͜ ̵͇̝̄͠M̸̜̹̋̽ȅ̸͙t̵̢͂̍r̴͎̭̕ȋ̶͓͇̚o̸̜̞͐̍n̶͕͑͆ ̶̤̤͒Z̴͖̗̀̉ĩ̴̦̚ṅ̶̥̆ẗ̷̤̲́ẖ̶̺͌o̸͓̐ş̸͂̂!̴̳̂̔” She grew winded as she tore into the corpse yet again, striking carefully. Her head pounded from exertion, and with a wave of her magic one of the chunks rolled towards the portal, a couple parasites slipping off. Garfield took the form of gibbon, scrambling over before landing in the shape of a horse, back legs kicking out to knock the alien flesh into the gate where it smacked against the molten stone and caught alight. Switching to an orangutan, his long lanky limbs grabbed the two closest parasites before sending them to follow.

In tandem, the two were able to maintain the flow, redirecting the monsters heading to rip them to shreds and the corpse they spawned from into their molten doom. Shoving the last piece of corpse in with one last distance squelch, Rachel returned to ground level, rife with sweat, and collapsed to her knees. Garfield went to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You cool?”

Rachel narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth only for alarms to ring out, the smoke detector sounding off even with mild circulation from the still opened shutters. With groans throughout the ceiling, a sprinkler system kicked off, drizzling the ground in stagnant water smelling of rust. The alien blood began to flow, diluted. Stare blank, Rachel murmured, “No.”

Gar managed a smile as the portal began to close, but a banging made itself known from the cardboard baler. From the opening crawled one last parasite, formerly three, crushed into one flat pulp. “Keep the portal open!” Garfield called, the gate reversing its motion as the disciple heeded his call. Gar sprinted to meet the awkward shuffling mass, and once he was about a dozen feet away his form shrank down into that of a crocodile. Lunging forward, his jaws ripped into the parasite glob and held fast. Clawed feet clacking against the slick concrete, he flipped about, skulking towards the hole, the less crushed extremities of the parasite awkwardly flailing as they tried to do any kind of damage. Rachel floated aside as Garfield reached the portal. But the small legs of the crocodile weren’t made for endurance like those of man or horse. Giving out on the slick ground, Garfield’s nails scraped against the ground, failing to find traction as he slid right into the portal.

Rachel’s stomach seemed to fall. The opening began to shrink. Hr lips faltered, but she managed to choke out, “Don’t!” Shaking his head, once again the disciple opened the portal. Smoke continued to belch out, water rained down, and Rachel waited.

There was a flash of green as a hawk streaked out of the gate. Turning human, Garfield splashed down onto the floor. “Okay, you can close it now!” With a groan, he collapsed to the floor, letting out a loud “Whew!” Her adrenaline draining, Rachel’s legs gave out.

Head scanning back and forth, spotting the still unconscious apprentices and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles from the city starting to come down the out skirting roads, the disciple looked to Rachel. “You’re not hear to commune with Baroshtok?” Rachel’s bafflement made the answer self evident. “Then...no, we will talk elsewhere. Somewhere safe, nearby, and deserted.” Leaving the two of them be, he went to each of the apprentices and shook them awake. As they were apparently unharmed, the disciple opened another portal, the two hopping through. Garfield began to move, groaning as his body resisted, but he stopped, holding a hand out to Rachel. “Nice job back there.”

Rachel felt her nose crinkle. She made a motion to knock his hand aside yet again, but the encroaching sirens echoing from over the empty land around the dump made themselves known. Reluctantly, she took his waterlogged hand, Garfield helping her to her feet and the two of them slipping through the portal, which closed promptly. A few minutes later, a pair of firetrucks and an ambulance parked outside the complex. Outfitted in his gear and pack, the firefighter grimacing at the smell of sulfur and rot. Looking at the profound mess of unrecognized monster blood and viscera, scattered aluminum cans, waterlogged cardboard, and a sweltering humidity from the sprinklers and lingering heat from a distant volcano, he dropped his mask and gawked, “What in the unholy hell happened here?”

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

“Jean I...you...can-” Scott stopped, leaning his head up before flopping back in his seat. Jean felt her spirits deflating, but at the same time there was a shade of amusement in seeing him squirm like never before. His thoughts were bouncing all over the place: gripes of befuddlement, tidbits of fear, and a conflict of a deep respect for his wife with the new need to reconcile with- “I just don’t understand how you can think of something so reckless!”

Nathan let out a low whine, so Jean plopped him on the floor and watched him shuffle off to play with some of his blocks. “Look, it’s just… After yesterday I’ve been thinking a lot about what to do about, well, not even just the mutant kid. But that was what started it. I think this can be a way to make a better world for mutants!”

Scott gave a slow nod. He lowered the volume on the TV. “Sure, but there’s also activism, which is less...illegal.” The TV was on some daytime television, but the vague gesture conveyed plenty of his intent. “I really don’t think the government is going to let this go. It’s catching on fast: the news can’t keep up at all. There’s plenty of heroes and there will be plenty more.”

“Are there any here in Baltimore yet?”

Scott was given pause, licking his lips before flipping the channel to local news. They happened to be covering some sightings in Washington D.C., concerns being cited about the safety of government officials, but it was quiet on the home front. Scott picked up his phone, typing in a search before scanning the results and giving up. “Well Google sucks but no, there aren’t any Baltimore heroes yet.” Cracking a smile he admitted, “You got me there but you’re not out of the woods yet!” Heel bouncing up and down, he let out a sigh before relenting, “I know you have nothing but good intent, and you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through.”

Jean leaned forward, reaching a hand out and stroking Scott on the knee, the limb slowing to a stop. He took a breath to steady himself. “I know you don’t want me to get hurt, but even if I don’t become a hero, I can’t abandon him, and he might hurt me if I try to reach out. I’m strong: me and those inhibitors never got along, you know that.” Scott shuddered. Jean didn’t need to peek into his mind as he recalled her recounting a childhood of drugs and prayer used to keep her powers in check. In high school she’d taken him to the ruins of an old mansion, crushed and burnt. Officially it was blamed on vandals, but Jean claimed her parents brought her there to try and ‘let it all out’. She didn’t even remember a bit of it, just that she’d been told it hadn’t worked. What followed had no doubt been more inhibitors, more sedatives, more prayer, more memory loss. Even if the systems in place worked for most, some slipped through the cracks. Some weren’t a fit at all. “I could use some practice, but I can think that I can do more.”

Scott flashed his teeth in a grimace. He looked over at Nathan, who’d just collapsed a block tower, letting out a squeal of surprise and looking over at his parents, who gave smiles and waves. “I’m sure if you had this thought last year-”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have heard the start of it.” Newborns were always a handful, and Nathan had been no different. Even having made the work schedules work to ensure he had constant care, things were much calmer now all things considered. While he was certainly rambunctious, Jean had begun to suspected he had mutant powers already (though Scott insisted it was parental bias: the tendency for the average kid to be seen as above average by their parents). Still, he had an uncanny sense of picking up on emotions, staying away in this moment of parental agitation. He was also more than willing to playing on his own for fair periods of time. Maybe he would be the loner type? He certainly wasn’t at a lack for parental smothering, but if he wanted space Jean and Scott were more than eager to give it to him. He even tended to sleep when they did. Usually. He had his bad days naturally, but he was a goddamn angel.

“I don’t know if you can be a superhero and a teacher. We need the money, and if anyone is going to quit I’d rather it be me. You already help those kids just by being there for them! Having the calendar so they can set up days to talk to you in private, I love that! And you make more money than me. Things are hurting enough as it is.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. “You said you didn’t want to let our student debts get in the way of doing what we want to do.”

“Yeah, like...travel.”

“Look, I think there’s some areas I can be a bit more efficient. I can cut an hour more of sleep, I already can’t stay awake for long. I think Nathan’s prevented me from ever having deep sleep again. And let’s not think about if we ever do decide to have another kid.”

“Wait, you are thinking about another kid?!”

“No! Well, not soon!” Scott puffed out his cheeks, before bursting out in a chortle. Jean slapped him on the shoulder but she was laughing too.

Catching his breath. “Two kids, a teaching career, and a superhero? You really are a Superwoman.”

“I can come up with a better name than that… I was thinking, like, resilience. Mutants have been tread on for so long, but we’re strong and can be stronger.”

“Like as in just 'Resilience'? Hmm, we could workshop it.”

“No something that gives the idea of resilience. Like...'Firebird'. Rising from the ashes again and again. And...you know.” She waved her fingers, imitating the motion of fire.

Scott thought on it for a moment, before blurting, “...So if we stick to a mythological creature thing I would be 'Cyclops'?”

Jean gawked. “Well they’re usually just evil monsters. And wouldn’t it be 'Biclops'?”

Shaking his head, Scott revealed, “I took some videos before to see what my beams were like, years ago. They end up becoming one, so it’s like I have one eye.” He mimed his own laserbeams, two hands coming from his eyes and lightly clapping to form one.

Jean stared “...You’ve thought about this before. You’ve been thinking about!” Planting a hand on her face she gave a smile of disbelief, standing up.

“Of course I have! Everyone’s thought about being a superhero, or having superpowers.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“If you don't believe me you could always check!” Scott tapped his fingers against his brain case. Jean shook her head. She knew that he had no interest in being a hero himself. He was happy with things as they were and Jean wanted to upend that for her selfish desires. Selfless in the macro sense, sure, but with a heavy cost to their domestic life.

Feeling Nathan tug at her pant leg, she lifted him up, pecked him on the cheek, and sat back down. “Do you wanna be a superhero? Huh?”

“Bbabababa.”

“I don’t think the news outlets will be able to spell that name very well but it’s bold! Daring!”

Scott whispered to him, “Go with Cable.” Jean gave him a look. “He pulled the cable from behind the TV and tried to bite it earlier. I dunno, it just hit me.” Jean shook her head, and Scott reached over, running his fingers across her cheek, catching a lock of her hair. “Even if I wasn’t terrified of losing you, do you think you can go out there and fight knowing what might happen if your identity gets out there? I’m so glad we’re talking about this and I’m not finding out the Fantastic Firebird on the news is my lovely wife in a goofy mask, but what happens when everyone else finds out?”

Jean winced, her face screwing up in pain as she imagined the worst case. It was far from the last thing she thought of. In fact, it was first. The elephant in the room Scott finally paid mind to. She reached up and clutched his hand, running a thumb across its back. “I know,” she silently mouthed.

Scott gave her a long hard look, then took a long hard sigh. Nathan took a few steps across the couch towards him. “Well, I trust you with my life. If you still think it’s a good idea, I’ll be behind you every step of the way.” Tapping his sunglasses, he added, “If some bad guy knocks on the door maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to figure this thing out. But I just don’t want you to have second thoughts when its too late. No half arsing something, full arse it. Oh, oop.”

Scott’s careful words were punctuated with Nathan grabbing his sunglasses and gradually pulling them from his face. Jean sat up straight, but Scott only smiled, eyes perfectly closed. “We’re good, we do this all the time.” Scott took Nathan up from his underarms before placing him on the ground, letting him run off, Scott’s sunglasses waving in his hand. Scott quietly counted to ten before standing up, carefully stalking after the child, trapped in his pen. He didn’t collide with anything, brushing lightly against their table and couch before swooping in on Nathan with a playful growl, the toddler screaming in glee. Curling on the couch as he put his glasses back on and wrestled with Nathan, she felt her heart melting. Came out of the eyes for some reason. Beating back tears, so too did her doubts wash away, as she saw the two things she most loved in the world somehow give her something she never would have had the courage to ask for or the confidence to think she deserved: more to love.

Jean and Scott had gone through so much that she didn’t want Nathan to go through as well, if he was as much a mutant as them. For all that she’d been blessed with, in order to give Nathan what he deserved, she’d have to find her wings, and fly.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Since the topic of interactions came up and I didn’t get around to chiming in, I will say that Jean should be potentially ready in a handful of posts. Aside from some interactions with the other X-Men (some discussion with Hillan already having happened and some stuff with Andy/Logan already suggested), Superman makes sense when @Master Bruce is ready since he was a big inspiration for Jean becoming a hero. @Lord Wraith’s Iron Man seems to be inevitable, it’s just a matter of figuring out if it’ll be on good faith between the two or not.

The Titans are going to take a bit longer to be ready since I want to have them assembled under Roxxon first, and there's some ground to cover until then. Once they are, bumping shoulders with Allblade or S.T.A.K.E. (@Hillan@Roman) is within reason so Raven can play damage control if they poke their nose in about the whole ‘harbinger of Earth’s doom’ shtick. I also couldn’t help but notice @Pirouette tease Roxxon in the game before I did, so maybe Silk could have a chance to be a Titan for a day!

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

There was a light clunk of metal echoing from just outside Rachel’s consciousness. The kid had grabbed a tin first aid kit from the warehouse. “Antiseptic, a bunch of bandaids...this isn't enough gauze. Why don’t they stock these things? Never mind the other guy in there also covered in blood, everything's fine, you got this you got this...”

“Just pull it out,” Rachel sighed, tired of his snivelling.

“Uh, I can’t do that. Its the only thing keeping your blood inside you right now.”

“Just do it!” Her eyes flashed red and her teeth grew sharper for just a moment. She felt his apprehension mix with fear and unease.

“Here goes nothin’!” Green mitts wrapping around the blade of ice, he began, “On three, okay? One, two-” SKRICH

Rachel’s shout of pain rang out. She saw stars where there were none. Raising her hand, she returned in to her wound, white energy once again stitching it back together. The teen boy watched in awe as the skin was healed. The black T-shirt was still gashed, and the blood was by no means replenished. “Why would you do that, whelp?” Opening her eyes she finally got a better look at him. His clothes were on the dirty side: a pair of jeans with tattered sleeves and a white T-shirt with golden hexagon logo. More curiously, his skin, hair, and eyes were all completely green, like he’d been dipped in a pot of St. Patrick’s ichor.

“Come on, you’ve seen it on TV, right? If you were ready you’d brace for it and it’d hurt even worse.”

Rachel scowled, “It hurts worse if you don’t see it coming, trash child.”

She smiled inwardly as she felt his spirits sink. That feeling was swiftly buried in a rush of alarm. “We gotta help that guy in there, come on!” Standing up, he reached his hand out. Rachel slapped it away before trying to stand. She didn’t make it higher up than her elbows could prop her up before she suffered a dizzy spell, collapsing back down. “Uh, sorry, just bear with me for a minute and then you can rest.” Rachel’s heart jumped as he reached his arms beneath her shoulders and legs, hoisting her up. Had the motion not further stressed her lack of energy, she might have tried to bite his throat out. Instead she was reduced to a wrathful glare, dark tendrils of energy emanating off her. He didn’t even register it as he lowered her down by the mage cut by her own magic. At this boy’s mercy despite all personal desire, she relented, raising her hand and using her magic to restore the disciple’s wounds. His slow, ragged breathing became a little bit softer.

Relaxing visible, the green mutant flopped down. “Alright. Not bad. What even happened here?”

“Better question: what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere with nothing better to do?”

“Oh my, how rude of me, I didn’t even introduce myself.” Running his hands through his messy hair, he flashed a smile. “Name’s Garfield, milady.” Before her eyes, he shrunk in form, becoming a striped shorthair cat with a grumpy looking face and more than a bit of pudge and as many shades of green as he’d been before. Turning back to himself, crouched in the same feline pose, he grinned, “I’m not voiced by Chris Pratt though.”

“...Unfortunate.”

“Well, if you must know, I’m a mutant who was part of H.I.V.E. until I got kicked out. I’ve kinda been homeless for a while. Been bumming some meals out here as a rat lately. Turns out Ratatouille was bullshit and they don’t have much of a sense of taste at all. I saw the lights go on, heard some banging, and thought I’d investigate.”

Rachel’s mouth twitched in disgust. It was all so absurd, so pathetic. This was the person who saved her? Pushing against the ground, she wrenched through the lingering pain and fatigue, sitting up properly with a twisted smile on her face. She began to giggle, then laugh, then cackle. “Little creature on this disgusting rock floating through space, digging through trash. Is that how you want to live? Pathetic.” His smile didn’t fall but, but she saw through him. “I did this. They were trying to stop me. You think you’re being helpful? That charity is a virtue?” Rachel took a dark shape. The shadow stretched wide, like two wings spreading. The beak of a bird pierced the air towards the heavens before angling down at Garfield, four red eyes burning down. Her voice, disembodied, sounded out, “So ignorant and blind. You really are just a rat in the dark scrounging at scraps better than any of you humans deserve. I’m impressed that you can live with yourself. How do you feign your happiness?” Like predator preparing to engulf prey, she drank in his emotions, waiting for the moment he broke. His sadness was like fine wine, his disappointment a classy buffet. But then the taste went sour as a sensation of pity came. The following spark of hope was like a spice of capsaicin to keep her tongue at bay.

He gave a smile, his pronounced canines on full display. Even as it concealed a deep pain, he still remarked, “I’m happy because...we have to be happy.”

The dark raven lingered for a few moments, before shrinking back. Rachel hadn’t moved, sitting in the same position, but her expression had returned to relative neutrality, her eyes narrowed. His broad platitudes did nothing for her except make her interest deflate like a dead balloon. With some difficulty, she stood, her balance faltering before she found relative stability.

Then she lost it. There was a rumble, easily mistaken for an earthquake. She fell into Garfield’s arms, the boy hovering by just in case of this exact possible outcome. They looked at the air as a white fissure seemed to erupt from nothing. The air seemed to drain from the chamber only to rush back just as quickly alongside a deluge of matter from nowhere. Black and white flesh materialized in high volumes, spilling out a lime green liquid. It bashed against the ground, more seeming to come.

Gar’s finger jabbed across the way to one of the fallen apprentices before he released his hands. “Get him outta here!” he called before pulling away. There was a low roar as he shifted into a humongous tiger, teeth snagging the disciple’s collar before he whipped his neck, flinging him to safety. Four legs pumping against the ground he hurtled to the next one, scooping him up and carrying him off just in time as another mass of foreign flesh crashed.

Feet leaving the ground, head pounding, she hissed, “Don’t order me around!” Despite her words, the girl so often lacking in self decided direction moved into action. One of the metal baskets she’d used early sprung to life, screeching across the ground and scooping up the disciple from the head and shoulders, pushing him along once he was mostly inside. The foreign substance crashed down, but the metal didn’t give, even as white robes became splattered in whatever Trigon-forsaken spew was making a mess of everything.

With everyone out of danger, Rachel and Garfield hung back as they waited for the chaos to settle. From her elevated point of view, Rachel saw a former being unlike any she’d heard of before. It seemed to have had at least 6 limbs previously, but was heavily dismembered, as though ripped apart. The appendages she could make out were either akin to tentacles with bumps like scales or nails, or the one remaining thin arm ending off in a double hand, four fingers on each. It’s skin was black while its inner flesh was white, whatever liquid its body possessed still dripping out. If there had been a head, it was missing entirely.

“Coooooool. Friend of Godzilla’s?”

Rachel sneered. “How so?” Floating a bit closer, she observed, “It’s not of this world. Or dimension.”

“An alien fell on us? I knew my animal magnetism would be more of a curse than a blessing.”

Rachel shook her head, ignoring him. “I’m not worried about what it is.” Eyes tracing a line across its wounds, she finished, “I’m worried about what killed it.”

With there being no sign of another incursion, Rachel considered her task. She had come here due to picking up on this location’s magical presence, operating purely on the objective truth of what she sensed rather than the assumption that such a mundane location detached from the natural world couldn’t harbor any sort of magical affinity. And judging by the coincidence of her arrival, the mage trio, and now this corpse from beyond, there was no mistaking that something was odd about this place. Off to the side, Garfield had turned into a bloodhound, sniffing the area around the body. Though she wanted to place her sigil and leave, she was pushed by her curiosity, floating closer to the body. Raising her hands, she opened her mouth, but all that came out was a scream. Bursting from the corpse a long head with a sharp beak clacked at the air, opening its maw to reveal rows of teeth. Without warning, it lunged at Rachel.

With a wave of her hand, a barrier of her dark magic appeared, the teeth tearing through the shield like it was paper. Rachel got away with a scratch, cradling her fresh wound with her other hand as she backed away, the parasite moving to lunge again. There was a rush of green. A lion swooped in, the larger animal holding the monster in its teeth. A heavy paw pressed down on its longer form and the lion stretched its neck, wrenching the pest’s face from the rest of its body. It twisted and tore with a sound more like that of rubber than flesh, but once it gave, its gore spilled out all the same.

Returning to his human form, Garfield asked, “You okay?”

Rachel opened her mouth to answer, her wound healing quickly enough with a bit of magic, but the sounds of writhing sent chills down her back. With pops and squelches, the massive corpse was peppered with more of the parasites, screeching as they engaged with the air, turning their beaks on their next victims.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

It wasn’t the relative heat that was bothersome even so late into the night. It was the stench. Out in the fringes of Los Angeles, a figure floated through the dark without pause. The far off lights of the cityscape kept the night’s eyes closed. The earth too was blocked off, blanketed in a sea of waste: torn bags of garbage, old appliances, roaches and rats tittering about the refuse. It gave off the kind of scent that seemed to stick to the skin and the innards of the nostrils. Low heat emanated from piles as though remnants lingered from the day’s sun.

Reaching a concrete building, a hand waved from the blue cloak, black energy phasing out with a whisper, taking away all color and appearance of worldliness. A metal shutter shrieked and rumbled as it scraped, the ruins of a lock clattering to the ground. The cloak barely tickled the ground as the intruder entered the darkness. One more wave of the hand had a light switch flipped up, bathing the large room and its contents in light. Pallets of crushed soda cans, cardboard bales, empty metal baskets... A few pests skittered out of sight.

The figure lowered her hood, black hair spilling out, a red diamond shaped gem set and gleaming on the forehead. She brushed a hand on a red brooch emblazoned on the front of her cloak before crossing her legs, clad in black stockings with slashes deliberately made throughout. Above the floor, Rachel Roth hovered in meditation, lips painted dark red murmuring other tongues. The air itself seemed to his and twist like lines of heat burned in. A faint red glow spilled from the slight cracks in her eyelids, and she raised a hand, tracing it it the air, the light left behind forming a sigil in the air made of several layered on top of each other as she wrote. Sparks started to fly, but it was not her doing. There was a hiss as something began to carve into the room as a burglar tool through glass through the air itself. Rachel’s mouth slowed to a stop and her eyes shot open, fading from full red to her usual purple tinted blue irises. The sigil dissipated and she unfurled her legs, raising her hands defensively as the portal reached its completion, opening to a space beyond. A pair of feet hopped to the ground, a man of asian heritage in deep red robes looking at Rachel with eyes wide. Two more in gray followed, the portal closing behind them. Their hands glowing as they raised them, matching Rachel’s wariness. She didn’t need to see their expressions and body language to read their hearts: unease, anxiety, confusion, and not nearly enough fear.

The spoke to each other in hushed tones. “Mó fǎ shī zài zhè lǐ gān shén me?” The apparent leader shook his head, not breaking is vision away from Rachel. He began to open his mouth, but the opposer struck first. Three of the man sized metal baskets went dark before being flung through the air. The two apprentices dove to the ground as the iron clattered and bounced across the concrete. Their leader made a circle with his fingers, another portal appearing both above him and by Rachel. She didn’t even have time to process before her own projectile knocked her to the ground.

“What do you think you are trying to do here?!” the mage demanded in English.

Teeth gnashing, Rachel propped herself up. Her eyes shone, and she spat out her chant, “A̵̧̦̍̑z̵̩̩͂̎ā̸̢̺r̸͕͂ȧ̵̬̼͆ẗ̴̢͔ĥ̷̖̲ ̴͕͊͝M̴͕̩̋̑ẻ̵̖̻̎t̶͕̓͗ř̷̦̀i̸̳̩͂ò̸̻͎n̸̦̅ ̷͎̪̉Z̴̩̮̍i̵̫͆n̶̝̚t̴͙͓̏̿h̴̺̐ǫ̶́s̸͇͠ͅ!” She floated upwards, swinging her arms as the room began to shiver. Full pallets bound with steel wire floated upwards before hurtling themselves at the trio. The two apprentices could only run, the pallets bursting when they hit the ground, a deluge of cardboard drowning them, snapped metal wires scratching into the floor. The disciple acted decisively, hopping onto the cardboard bale and leaping from it before it hit the ground underneath him. With a wave of his hands, the moisture in the air hardened into an array of ice blades before launching Rachel’s way. The area around her engulfed in blackness and she sank into the floor, knives shattering about the ground where she’d been. The disciple landed, tucking into a roll before swivelling his head, keeping wits about him. In the moment of quiet, he waved his hands, the unconscious bodies of his allies floating upwards towards a portal he wove into being. Behind him, a shadow loomed, rising up from the ground like a bird taking flight. He turned about, dropping his hand, but it was a moment too slow. A talon formed of dark magic came down on him, tearing through his robe, blood spattering to the ground. He fell, and Rachel rose, hovering over the destruction, head raised in pride.

It didn’t last long. She collapsed to the floor. Shoving her cloak aside, she placed her hand on an ice knife that had dug into her side. The biting cold was agony in her wound, and she couldn’t get a good grip on the offending blade, weak fingers slipping off. She gasped out for air, hand glowing in white as she pressed the limb to the wound. The cut stitched together, but it only caused her worse agony as it tightened on the blade in her flesh. The healing had allowed the blood flow to stem somewhat, but Rachel broke out into a sweat as she tried to run through her options, energy draining with every drop of melted ice. “No, no, no! Not like this! I haven’t even managed one!” she hissed in frustration to no one but herself. Gasping out, she took to the air once again, her levitation unstable as she headed back towards the shutter door. Once again in sight of the L.A. vista, she hesitated, the distance she had to cover seeming vast. Falling back to the ground, she cried out in pain, having stumbled on this first step.

----

“...Six hundred and sixty six?”

“You find this amusing?”

The deep rumble of her father’s voice shook this realm. It was not a large one: the empty void was a space between space, inhabited by bubbles of dreams in between worlds. It was where Rachel had first met her father roughly 5 years ago. She existed in this void, and far off, impossibly massive, was a many sets of glowing orange eyes, stacked and towering to give the image of a presence beyond eternity. Her heart quivered with admiration, awe, and fear. So much fear.

“It’s...a significant number in Christian mythos. The coincidence was...amusing, yes, for reasons hard to explain.”

He smiled. She didn’t see it, for it was beyond her. She simply knew, and that knowledge offered her no warmth. Rather she felt stripped and transparent to the all seeing gaze of Trigon. A pit came to her stomach as she feared his reaction to her condescending him, as though the idea of overplayed edge and cultural concepts being reduced to memes would somehow be beyond him. But he did not admonish her, he merely explained, “Humans take great pride in their sentimentality, their emotion. Spires erected for superstition. Numbers held about as truth even as they are merely a shoddy attempt to reconcile with and understand a reality so far beyond them. It gives me joy to render such vapid assertions asunder. I shall not repeat myself: engrave my sigil on 666 places of magical power on Earth, and I can manifest myself through your form.” Rachel recalled his description of the eventual, inevitable event, as Earth would be reduced to a wasteland of flame and bone. Her material body would be shed and she would become Trigon’s avatar, her sense of self being erased. It brought her no fear. Failing her father made her fear. Being unable to live up to his expectations made her fear. To imagine the world of fire made her ecstatic. To imagine herself erased to give passage to her father left her with a feeling of peace.

-----

Rachel lay on the ground in the garbage dump, blurry vision blending the night lights into one mass of white, yellow, and red, shimmering in the shuddering of her eyelids. She seethed. Let it all burn.

In the last dregs of her consciousness, kept afloat from the cold pain in her side, she heard a light scampering of feet, no doubt one of the pests out and about. She shuddered, letting out a groan, hair standing up on the back of her neck in disgust, but she was helpless. She flitted her eyelids open and thought she saw a rat, sickly green in the low light. Then she flitted her eyelids again, and she saw a pair of legs kneeling by her side. “Hey, stay with me! Oh man oh man that looks bad ahhhh I don’t have a phone!”

Rachel let out a low growl at the annoying prattling. At least be quiet and let me die in peace...

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

<Snipped quote by Sep>

Alright, who is my best chance at quashing the mutant mafia and where do I send my cheques?

@Lord Wraith