The All-Star Marvel RPG

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I walk slowly. It makes feel sick, just even being close to the HYDRA guards. They think I'm American, but I can understand every single Japanese word they mutter. Oh, did I forget to mention I'm at their Japan branch. Disguising themselves as a cargo ship buisness...pathetic really.

I've got Agent Morales back at base, with her partner Agent Black. The two are guarding Danvers' cell like they've never guarded before. Here, with me, I have Agent Zero talking into my ear, Agent Hill awaiting orders and my sleeper agent, Roger Brokeridge (who's girlfriend is the young, Agent Carmilla Black), right where I want him to be and Agent Rushman back at HQ, tracking down the SHIELD spies.

It's not long, before I come across a HYDRA agent, discussing details on where my target is. Jessica Drew. British, tough and clever. She also has abilities too.

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"Hold it right there, kiddo. You mentioned something about Miss Drew...?"

He wimpers. I guess this kid must be some kind of rookie. His head doesn't move an inch, the feeling of the gun pressed to the back of his neck must be makin' him shaked. I yank his arm, turning him around so he faces me.
"I know nothing!"

I spin the gun around my fingers, and slam the handle of my pistol across his face. He screams in pain, attracting the attention of various agents. I instantly shoot to kill, watching as they each fall dead. "Tell me before I blow your brains out!"

-Carter! It's me! I've recieved a visual from Roger, she's down in the den. Kill this kid and get to her, quick!-

Christopher's demanding voice rings in my ear. I gritt my teeth, breathing heavily as I look down at the wimpering HYDRA agent. "I'll tell you...I'll tell you...She's in the den, the den!"

Aw crap. I was just about to kill this guy, but now he's gotta go and blow it. He's brought on the guilt trip. I roll my eyes, slamming my knee straight up in to his chest, causing him to hurl over in pain, collapsing from the shock. A little trick I learnt from Japan. Stops his heart beating for at least an hour.

-Carter, quick! Get outta there! You've been spotted and Drew's sent for backup! Alert Hill and evacuate!-
 
We all make our way to the front of the tractor-trailer as we made it to our destination. General Ryker stood in front of us chatting with someone on his ear piece no doubt getting Bruce’s position.

“Copy that.” He replies as he must have gotten the news he was looking for. He then turns back towards us.

“Okay we have the location of the target, he is just 8 miles up this hill in the middle of no where. So if things do happen to make a turn for the worse we won’t have to worry about pedestrians. We are going to wait for our back up to get is positions around the area so we can make a containment field if he happens to try and escape. We only have one shot at this, mistakes are not allowed.”

Rider and the rest of the group seem to be ready for action. I just can’t believe that same person I met is the some one on the file. If what I read is true things are only going to get ugly. I have to get to Bruce before the rest do.

I take a moment looking around and notice everyone is standing next to General Ryker waiting for the go. As they prepare I sneak to the back of the trailer and get a motorcycle from inside. I roll it down the ramp and quickly look around the trailer and see that no one even knows I disappeared. Wasting no time I quickly jump on the bike and start it. Knowing the sound of the bike will get their attention I take off heading to cabin to warn Bruce with haste.

“What are doing soldier?”

General Ryker’s voice screams in my ear, by the tone I know he isn’t to happy. Coming out and telling him I’m going to warn Bruce is not going to be good for me.

“Sorry sir I can’t wait, I’m going to get him now.” I tell him trying to make my self sound believable but it should be believe he doesn't know that i know Bruce, well I some what know him.

“Listen to me soldier it took us weeks or planning and your dumb Rambo act is only going to mess things up. Come back right now that is an ORDER!”

I take the ear piece out of my ear. Yeah this is not going to be good at all, Rider is going to be pissed.

*****​

General Ryker then looks to the Gamma Squad. “Plans change we’re moving out now. Get in your vehicles lets go.” It was obvious he didn’t want to leave but he had no choice thanks to Rick’s actions.

Rider watches Rick taking off heading to Bruce.

“Damn it Rick, why are you being so stupid? If you mess this up for us I’m be pissed.” Rider says as he throws the strap from his gun over his shoulder and joins the others.
 
“That’s what the brotherhood is trying to do, give mutants a place to go without having to register. Because is this the land of the free when its mutant citizen’s are forced to put their names on a list? To be criminalized for wanting the right to live in anonymity.” Victor was reaching down deep into himself, he was giving an answer from the heart, the last person he talked to like this, was Clarice, Blink.



He was starting to miss her, miss the whole Marauder’s team, ok so he didn’t miss Scalp hunter. John wasn’t his favorite person. He needed to get back to the Brotherhood. They most likely have gone underground until the heat blows over on the White House incident. Or Eric is planning something big.


“Eric wants a world were we don’t have to hide who we are.” Victor chose to elongate his claws to their fullest length, holding his arm out before them both. “A world were we are not freaks to be looked down on as second rate citizens.”



[FONT=&quot]“I’m sure she would Calvin, you’ve become a great fighter, and I am sure you’ll be a great man in the future.”
[FONT=&quot]He meant every word. [/FONT][FONT=&quot]“Someday, even if you loose Calvin Rankin, you’ll find him when he is most needed.”[/FONT][/FONT]

I would have never thought in a thousand years that Sabretooth would be giving me some advice and some good advice at that. I guess you should never judge a book by its cover.

“I guess your right, So I guess I might as well learn to accept the situation I’m in huh? Between me and you, I do kinda like the fighting part. Also getting news powers is also cool.”

With all this negativity it’s always good to think of the positive to help you survive what ever situation you maybe in and this one is mine so I should make the best of it.
 
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"...Parker? You okay?"

Blackie Drago actually being concerned for my well-being isn't the weirdest thing that's happened to me today, but it ranks pretty high up the list. I mean, it's not like he's a total ass like Eddie or Flash, but he's always been pretty.....aloof, since coming to Midtown. Well, the fact that I think he still blames me for his VULTURE suit getting disqualified from the Science Fair doesn't put us on the best of terms either. Still, in the last couple of days, he's really lightened up.

"Hello? Planet Earth to Peter Parker, are you there?"

"Whuh?--Oh, right. Yeah, I'm fine, just kinda...spaced out this morning. I got up early to see if I could get some pics of the reconstruction in Times Square, and then had to scramble to get here on time, so I'm still kinda winded."

Well, omitting the part where I fought and then teamed up with a sand-creature that used to be a common thug I trounced on a weekly basis, joined forces with the city's first City Hall-sponsored superhero, and got on the wrong side of a crime syndicate that makes the Big Man's organization look like amateur hour. I am pretty exhausted, though. It's making my Biology study group awfully hard to focus on.

"Huh, I would've figured you got more than enough pictures of Times Square the other day," Mary Jane says. "I mean, the Daily Bugle thought so."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, didn't you see?"
Debra Whitman chimes in. "They had a big front-page splash about those 'Avengers' guys and the assassination attempt on the Director of HAMMER. And the photo they used was this absolutely epic shot of all the heroes lined up. And right at the bottom, they credited you with the picture."

"You're kidding me! They actually used my pictures?" I guess that Ned Leeds guy actually was honest about the photos I took for him that night. "That's awesome!"

"You should probably go down to the Bugle and see if they'll pay you for your work," MJ suggests. "It couldn't hurt, right?"

"That's actually not a bad idea," I say, but something in my gut really doesn't like the idea of going to the paper run by J. Jonah Jameson looking for a payday. Maybe it's because every other article the Bugle prints is about Spider-Man and how he's a menace to society.

"Hmm," Blackie muses to himself. "I don't mean to offend, but you don't really seem like the newspaper-reading type, Mary Jane."

"Normally I'm not,"
MJ admits, "but I like reading the stuff in the Daily Bugle; they're the only ones who really cover the things going on in the superhero world. Gotta say, it's become a little bit of a hobby of mine ever since, y'know....Spider-Man saved me from Max Dillon."

"Hmph,"
is all Blackie manages, and the whole group goes really uncomfortable. Before Max flipped out, he and Blackie were apparently pretty close friends. It's gotta be weird trying to come to terms with the fact that a buddy of yours is now a homicidal supervillain.

"*Ahem*,"
Miss Trainer says to get our attention. "Study Group D, the four bases found in DNA are....?"

"Umm....adenine,"

"...guanine...."

"...thymine...."

"....and, umm.....oh wait! Cytosine."

"Very good," she says. "For a moment there, I thought you weren't paying attention."

As she goes to look over the rest of the class, we all share a collective giggle. Actually doing your homework usually means you can slack off during class and not get busted for it.

"So, um, Blackie?" Debra asks nervously. "Are you doing anything after school?"

"Actually, I'm going to be going over to Mister Toomes' lab to help him out with a few things,"
he says with a tinge of guilt in his voice. "But I'm, um, free to hang out later."

Mary Jane raises an eyebrow in amusement.

"Well, well, well, what's this then?"

"Nothing! It's just...y'know..."

"Debra, come on. If you want to go out with someone, just say it, and screw what everyone else thinks."

Debra and Blackie's faces both go about as red as MJ's hair. As she looks back at me for confirmation, I'm sure my own face is starting to turn that same hue as well.


*****

When class lets out, I walk and talk with Mary Jane for a few minutes as we go down the hallways--never mind that this is actually the wrong way to my next class. As we go, we bump into Gwen by the soda machines.

"Hey Gwen, what's...."

I trail off when she shoots me the dreaded Stacy Stink-Eye, then practically sulks away.

"...up?"

"Ouch. Get any freezer-burn from that cold shoulder?"

I let out a sigh.

"She's been doing this for the last couple of days, and I still can't figure out why. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love her to death, but there are days when I just cannot figure out what she's thinking."

"Hmmm...anything happen between you two lately?"

"Not really. Ever since she started going out with Eddie, we haven't been able to hang out as much without him butting in, so I guess we haven't really been as close as usual. Plus her birthday's coming up, and I don't want to bring up her personal stuff, but I'll just say it's a bad time of year for her. It's never been this bad, though. She hasn't even talked to me since after the movie the other day."

MJ gets a look in her eyes like a light bulb went off in her head. Whatever it is that she's worked out is beyond me, though.

"Do yourself a favor, Pete," she says, patting me on the shoulder. "Go actually talk to her and find out what she's thinking. You may be surprised."

"Okay, yeah," I say before turning to head the correct way to my next class. "Oh hey, are you.....y'know, free to hang out after school?"

She stops for a second to mull it over.

"I'd really like to, Tiger, but I'm actually gonna be doing something this evening and I need to get ready. But keep tomorrow night free, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing! Sounds great!"
I say, trying as hard as I can not to start giggling like a moron about the fact that I just asked Mary Jane Watson out a second time and got a round-about 'yes.'

The warning bell sounds, and my gigantic goofy smile drops when I realize I've only got about two minutes to get up two floors before class starts.
 
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The Kronas corporation is one of the world's largest and most powerful global conglomerates, a leader in manufacturing, energy production and global security solutions.

Ambassador Tran of the Independant nation of Madripoor has to remind himself of these facts as he steps out of a stretch limosine and on to the open square surrounding the 50 story Kronas headquarters.

Mere humans would surely be impressed by the scale, the sheer grandiose decadence of the structure, but to Tran it is another guady reminder of the unfounded arrogance of the human species. That these dung dogs would think so highly of themselves and their meager accomplishments, it made him want to spin on his heel and get back into his limosine.

It is an urge the disguised Super Skrull resists, and he holds his head high as he stalks purposefully past the armed guards surrounding the parking lot and towards the building beyond.

He didn't like it, but after his confrontation with the Avengers, Kl'rt had to admit that Earth was not going to be subdued as easily as he had initially suspected. He would need help and the man he was here to see, Kronas CEO Aleksander Lukin, was just the man to provide it.


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Tran and Lukin's meeting lasts several hours and during that time the two men discuss numerous issues and finalize an agreement whereby Madripoor National Incorporated will provide arms and equipment to the Kronas Corporation's security services division. The Security services division, effectively the largest private army in the world, was, with the brokering of this deal, now also the best armed.

It is only after the deal has been brokered that Tran reaches into his brief case and retrieves an unmarked brown file which contains what little information he has been able to acquire about Captain America and the Avengers.

Knowing full well Lukin's reputation for ruthless business practices, as well as the barely rumored whispers about his past, Tran does not hesitate in presenting the file to Lukin along with the true reason his visit.

"Now that our partnership has been established I wonder if I could impose upon you for some information Lukin." Tran says as he opens the file and pulls out photos of the battle in time square before laying them down on the table facing Lukin.

"The Premier is intrigued by these Avengers." Tran adds as he gestures to the photos, each one focused on a different member of the super hero team "He would like to know who they are. In particular, this one." He says as he jabs the photo of Captain America with his finger.

"I see." Lukin replies intently but he does not look at the photo of Captain America, instead he eyes a photo of a red faced artifical man in a long flowing cape.

"The Premier is intrigued you say." Lukin repeats as he picks up the photo of the Vision and stares at it.

"Yes." Tran replies while displaying a sudden scowl "He is a great man. He craves knowledge for its own sake and he wants to know where they came from and who their backers are."

"Of course he does." Lukin replies while flashing Tran a knowing look which only serves to intensify Tran's scowl.

"Come now Ambassador." Lukin says in a voice that is not too conciliatory "I am many things, but I am no fool. You premier wants these heroes disposed of and this...creature..." he adds he taps a photo of the Super Skrull "...this creature works for you or with you in some way."

"You seem very confident in your assumptions Lukin." Tran replies as his face remains impassive save for the scowl that remains in place

"Oh I am Tran, but you and your Premier have nothing to fear, and you know that else you would not have approached me." Lukin says as he leans forward in his chair.

"Tell your Premier that he has nothing to fear from me for the moment. Our interests, for now, remain the same and I have no intention of jeopordizing my interests by jeopardizing yours." He glances down at the pictures "Inform the Premier that I will find the information he seeks-"
"Good" Tran says quickly, interrupting Lukin.

"-but I want something in return."

"Name it."

"This one." Lukin says as he holds up the phot of the Vision and shows it to Tran "This one recently escaped from one of my facilities. I have an interest in this machine man Tran. He has knowledge I want. Bring him to me and I will give you what you are looking for."

Tran eyes the photo of the red faced figure he had only recently been battling and silently determines that he/it is unremarkable.

"Agreed." he says while offering Lukin his open palm.



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Meanwhile, at the 53 Club

The very same artifical man whom Lukin wants to posess remains unaware that he has become the Super Skrull's target as he gives his full attention to a companion who claims to be a god.

"I want to know why the Gods created mankind. I wish to understand the purpose of man's existence and it is my hope that this information will help me understand why mankind created me and what the purpose of my existence is."
 
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The journey upstairs was a long and treacherous one. There were several moments I thought about quitting and letting my wounded furry friend’s limp body go tumbling down the stairs. But I pressed on like a champ, and two dozen steps and a long corridor later, we were back at the room. I laid Rocket down on a bed and checked his pulse. Still with us. Good.

“Y-you, uh, you okay, champ?”

"Not really...I just lost the girl of my dreams...and I’m dying..." he whimpered.

“Yeah, that’s, uh…that’s never good…listen, Mantis is on her way with a medpack so…I think I’ma head downstairs and grab another drink.”

"P-please don’t go..."

Damn. I really didn’t want to have to sit here and watch this poor ****er die.

“Alright, buddy.”

Moments later, we heard the loud metallic click of the room’s doorknob being turned. The door swung open and Mantis walked in, taking great caution in each of her footsteps. In her hand she carried some sort of white tin box.

“Jesus, Mantis! I can smell the gin from here!”

“Y-yeah I went and got anotatthbheroner…” she mumbled as she proceeded to collapse onto our table.

“S-so, w-wus the prollem?”

“Rocket was just ****ing shot! Do you honestly not remember any of the **** that went down like eight minutes ago?!”

“N-no. Maybe. I don—I dunno,” she said, rolling off of the table and limping towards the bed. She knelt beside Rocket and examined his wound. She opened up her white box and pulled out some bizarre looking instruments and began prodding at the open wound. Rocket hollered in pain.

“Hmm….Rocky, you’ve met your match…” she said, shaking her head.

“That’s it? You’re not gonna try to fix anything? You’re just gonna poke him and say he’s done?”

"Doc, it’s only a scratch! I’ll be better, doc, as soon as I am able!"

“Oh, you think so?” Mantis asked in a drunken rage.

“I-I’m sorry I thought I was the doctor here! I’m sorry! I thought I was the one wh-who went to space medical school for eight ****ing years! Y-you gotta lotta nerve, pal. A…a lotta nerve…all kinds of nerve...lotta nerve……….....wh-what was I talking about again?”

“For Christ’s sake, just fix him up! Do what you can! We’re losing him!”

“Hey! Hey. Hey. Calm down. And grab me some coffee. I got this ****.”



ONE SEMI-BOTCHED DRUNKEN MEDICAL PROCEDURE LATER…



Mantis clipped off the roll of bandages and tossed her tools into her medpack.

“There. See? All better. Hmmm…coulda sworn I had my forceps out a second ago…”

“So…what now?”

“Well *hic*, we won’t have much luck finding SCYLLA’s hidden base while we sit here and wait for Rocket to heal.”


“Who’s hidden base? Oh! Man, I forgot the entire premise of our being on this planet…”

“Let’s head out and comb the desert *hic* for a bit. Then, we’ll try to get in contact with Star Lord and the others.”

"You’re just gonna leave me here?" Rocket asked in a weak voice.

“You need rest, Rocket.”

“Here’s some reading material,” Matis said, tossing him the Bible from the nightstand drawer.

“Let’s *hic* head out, Howard.”

“Wait...Howard can I talk to you?"

“I’ll meet you outside,” Mantis said, stepping out of the room.

I approached the side of Rocket’s bed.

“You alright, man?”

"Somewhat. My wound burns but it has begun to heal. But that’s not what troubles me. It’s my heart."

“What?”

"It’s just...I was so certain I’d win her back tonight...I was so certain...and now it seems I’ve lost her for good. It seems it wasn’t meant to be...it hurts so much..."

“You sure it’s not the wound? 'Cuz like a good chunk of you was blown off.”

"I suppose I finally got the closure I needed. It didn’t end the way I wanted it to, but...it ended."

“I mean, I could probably have fed a family of four with what was blown off of you.”

"Still...it feels...it feels painful...as if the cold, steel forceps of loss are lodged deep within me, clamping down on my heart..."

“………”

"What’s wrong? Why do you look so scared?"

“N-nothing! I, uh, I gotta go help Mantis now, but we’ll be back soon! Get some sleep!” I said, running out the door.


I huddled up for warmth as a howling desert wind blasted my semi-clothed body. I waited a moment for the wind to die down and quickly brushed the sand off my feathers.

“For a desert it is ****ing freezing!”

Mantis continued scanning the landscape through some weird, futuristic-looking binoculars before responding.

“Yeah, once the, uh…the sun goes down, it…it gets cold...*hic*”

We were supposed to be looking for SCYLLA’S hidden base. I wasn’t quite sure how that’d go down, seeing as how Mantis was still ****-faced and Rocket was possibly mortally wounded and probably had a pair of forceps lodged in his heart. Not to mention the fact that we essentially tortured and killed a random fat guy in New York to get our info. That can’t be too helpful.

“Alright, so we don’t see anything, right? Let’s back inside, I’m freezing my ass off.”

“Aw, c’mon, man. Man, we’ve barely l-looked at one square mile, man……man.”

“Just call Star Lord and tell him Rocket got hurt, so we couldn’t continue the mission.”

“Alright, I guess—WAIT! What’s that over there?!”


“Aw geez….”

“That…looks like some kinda hidden base!”

“There is no friggin way…”

“It is! I can read the sign from here! ‘SCYLLA Hidden Base’!”

“There is absolutely no light out, how could you possibly—“

“Howard, we gotta…we gotta get over there, man.”

“Listen, Mantis, if SCYLLA really is this secret, evil, intergalactic terrorist organization, I highly doubt they would put a sign up on one of their hidden bases. Maybe it’s just the name of another SCYLLA, or some saloon, or—“

“Nope, right under it says ‘The Secret Evil Intergalactic Terrorist Organization.’”

“…Aw c'mon! You're just making **** up now! Gimmee those ‘nocs!”

I hop up and try to snatch them but Mantis, being the sadistic drunken ***** she is, dangles them above me, just out my reach. After a few more attempts, she loses interest an drops them on my head.

“Agh! God dammit…” I grumble before looking into the binoculars. I click on the night-vision setting and look off into the distance.

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“**** me.”

“Well, it looks like we’re going in.”

“That is just…astounding…” I groan, rubbing my eyes in disbelief.
 
THE GHOST RIDER

"How's it looking, John?"

I can't help but smirk. My mother's the only person who ever called me "John." My smirk doesn't last long, though, as I survey her flooded basement. "Like Hell," I admit. An old photo album floats by, and I shake my head.

"Well, I don't want you worrying about it," Mom calls from the top of the stairs. "I'll just call a professional."

I trudge through the calf-deep rainwater, feeling my jeans stick to my legs. Having a small house is convenient for Mom in her condition, but it means her basement fills up like a swimming pool when it rains. It's never gotten this bad before, though.

"Don't be crazy, Mom," I say as I begin marching up the steps. My boots squish with every step. "I'm not letting you pay for some stranger to fix this. I can handle it." Mom hands me a towel, and I dry off my hands.

From her wheelchair, Mom shakes her head. "You spend too much time worrying about me. When do you ever have time for a life of your own?"

"I make time," I say with a smile. I tuck the dirty towel into my back pocket and make my way over to the sink. As I pour myself a glass of water, I look out over Mom's backyard. "You can have that kid down the street clean up your yard, right?"

"Yes, he'll be more than happy to," Mom assures me. "So don't go getting any ideas. You need to go back to your house."

Before I can respond, my phone gives a little beep.

"Roxanne?"

I check the text message. It is, indeed, from Roxanne.

"When are you just going to ask that poor girl out?"

"You're right, Mom. I should be going," I joke, giving a little smile. Mom knows how I feel about Roxanne, but it's a bit more complicated than that. I don't know. Every time I try to convince myself that it's the right time, I get cold feet. Deep down, I know Roxanne can do better than me. She deserves someone better than me. "Are you going to be okay here?"

"I always manage to get by," Mom replies before smirking.
 
Norman Osborn

"Norman, please have a seat."

I recoil slightly as I watch Wilson Fisk eat...or what passes as eating for him. I was under the impression eating involved chewing properly and swallowing. He seems to have skipped the first step.

I pull out a chair and have a seat at Fisk's table in the back booth of the fancy restaurant. Le Cirque, one of New York's finest eating places. Reservations are booked a week in advance. Fisk pays for a table reserved for him at all times.

"What do I owe the honor, Wilson?"

Fisk takes a break from dismembering his lamb chop to look me in the eye.

"I need more."

Of course he needs more. That's how blackmail works. It's not enough that I supply him with an ounce of my superhuman forumla once a week. He needs more. Always more.

"I-I can't. I need some formula for my own company."

"Make your men work overtime. Maybe this will change your mind."

Wearing a smirk, Fisk slips a manilla folder out of his coat pocket and slides it over to me. I read through the contents for a few seconds before a cold spot starts to grow in my stomach.

"Quite impressive. It's one thing to short stock, but it's quite another to buy up shares of your own company through an off-shore account. I'm sure the SEC would love to get their hands on that info."

The grinding of my teeth drowns out the sound of my pulse pumping through my ears. The blood rushes to my face and turns it red. I slowly slide the photo back to Fisk and take a deep breath.

"More, Norman. Two ounces by the end of this week."

I do my best to regain my composure, adjusting my tie and making sure no lint is on my lapel. "You know, Fisk," I say in a calm tone. "If it wasn't for all the people in this room, I would drive a steak knife through your ****ing heart and watch your fat ass bleed out like a stuck pig."

The fat man chuckles and shakes his head. "Uh-oh, Mr. Science has a dark side. Try me, Norman. I'd like to see what kind of pent-up rage the geek has."

I stand up and adjust look down at Fisk. "Two ounces by Friday. After that, we're through."

"We're done when I say we're done."

My eyes drift down to the cutlery on the table. "Do it, I dare you," Fisk chides.

I turn around and storm out of the restaurant before I do something I really will regret.​
 
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Genosha Bay.

The Island of Genosha is a little slice of Caribbean paradise, its sandy white beaches giving way to lush greenery, filled with colorful flowers and exotic wildlife. The island's crescent shape makes for a natural harbor on the western shore, or would, were it not for the labyrinth of jagged rock formations a ship would have to navigate through before reaching the shore. The eastern shore, on the other hand, is sheer cliffs that drop over a hundred feet.

It's for this reason--the difficulty getting to the island and the near impossibility of getting away from it--that the Spanish used Genosha as a prison island. And for many of the same reasons, today HAMMER uses the island in much the same way.

After the passage of the Mutant Registration Act, unregistered or unruly mutants were sent here to be removed from society. Herded along via barbed-wire fences and heavily armed guards, those whose genetic abnormalities are considered to be a threat to humankind live under constant scrutiny, unable to blink without an assigned HAMMER agent knowing about it. There have been dozens of rumors about this place: illegal experiments on mutants to turn them into super-weapons, rioting mutants put down with lethal force, agents amusing themselves by subjecting prisoners to unnecessary torture--but since there is an effective media blackout on all things occurring on the island, no one knows for sure.

No one except Director 13, I'm sure. And very likely Nick Fury as well.

"Let's see what we're up against...." I say as I pull a pair of binoculars from my belt, scanning the compound from a high vantage point that can only be reached by scaling the cliffs and disabling the automated security sensors along the way.

Six main guard towers along the outside perimeter with snipers inside, twenty-foot electrical fences lined with razor wire, a large sandy expanse just outside the fences that is almost definitely a minefield, and roughly two dozen HAMMER agents patrolling the grounds.

"Any sign of your target?" asks Monroe, a SHIELD agent whom Nick Fury conveniently dispatched on a separate mission to the island the same time as I embarked on my own.

"Not yet," I say, switching from my regular binoculars to a sophisticated thermal imaging telescope that singles out super-human signatures. Another one of Fury's toys that I may have to borrow for a while. "There are so many people in the holding cells that it's difficult to single her out. I may have to get in closer to get a better reading."

"Well, happy hunting, Captain. I'd better get going on my own mission. Maintain radio silence until you've completed your objective; I can't carry out my orders until you've gotten what you came for."

"All right then,"
I say as he heads into the brush. "Be careful, and don't let them see you."

"Heh, says the man wearing the stars and stripes all over him,"
Monroe smirks before switching on his active camouflage and disappearing into the foliage.

My own approach down towards the compound is fairly treacherous; getting down the hill quickly is easy enough, but getting there quietly is a different matter altogether. I move from cover to cover, staying out of any potential lines of sight as much as I can, and only darting into visibility when absolutely necessary.

I'm about halfway towards the compound when I spot my first obstacle--a patrol of four HAMMER sentries. I duck low into the underbrush and remain perfectly still, my breath slowing down almost to a stop, as they make their way up a winding trail that would take them around most of the island. I could probably dispatch these guys fairly easily, but there's no point in letting the entire place know I'm here yet. Right now all I need to do is get past the guards, not go through them.

I cut through the jungle until I reach the outside of the prison, the tree line stopping just short of the sand-covered mine field, when I stop and pull out the thermal telescope again.

I scan the regular holding cells again, not finding a match to my target's profile, but at least four or five hundred imprisoned mutants, the scanner classifying their mutations anywhere from mundane to extremely dangerous. It isn't until I look into the solitary confinement building, however, that I find a matching signature.

"Bingo."

Carol Danvers, codenamed "Miss Marvel" by HAMMER, serving two years in solitary confinement for defying Director Carter's orders. It's an overkill gesture that has to be answered for, but since Congress is too unwilling to rein HAMMER in as long as they make the "mutant problem" go away, it's a wrong that I'm going to have to right myself.

About a hundred yards away is one of the guard towers, a lone sniper perched on top with a high-powered rifle. Getting past him is going to be no mean feat....especially since it means moving out of cover.

I break from the tree line and over the course of a few split-seconds I spot my target, judge the range, wind up with my shield, and throw with power and precision that would be impossible for anyone who didn't have traces of the Super Soldier Serum flowing through his veins. The red white and blue disc arcs upward and banks left, striking the sniper in the jaw as it whizzes by and back towards me.

I continue my charge, catching the shield as alarms begin to sound all over the island.

That just about does it for the reconnaissance portion of this mission. Now comes the exciting part.
 
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I sprint back. I get a hold of Agent Hill, telling her to fallback and meet me back in the Jet. I've managed to get a hold of Natasha too, get her over to the prison, guard Danvers. Agent Brokeridge has been told to stay silent for now.

"Chris? Are you there, Chris, can you hear me?" I'm on the roof, Maria Hill stands there. She takes my hand, pulling me to my feet and we leave. Still not a word from Agent Zero.

***

"Good boy. Now, hand over your weapons..." Agent Black smirks, a gun pressed tight against Agent Zero's neck. Sweat drips from his forehead slowly. He hasn't muttered one word to the traitor since she threatened him.

"I did what you asked, now go!"

He lifts his finger off the speaker, just finishing sending Director 13 her message. Agent Black chuckles, turning her gun round and smacking it round Zero's head. He grunts, but he drops on the keypad, sliding down in a dazed state. Not long after, he slips unconscious.

Agent Black walks to the door laughing. As she turns back, she aims her gun down at the unconscious HAMMER agent. Her hand grips tight and her fingers trails towards the trigger.

***


I kick down the door of the jet, Maria storming in with her gun in tact. I rip off my glasses and lab coat, sliding out my pistol sharply. "Hold it right there, hydra hair!"

I march over to Agent Black. Her gun is aimed at an unconscious Agent Zero. I scatter my brain for a few seconds, putting together the piecesa nd snapping Agent Black's wrist with a sharp movement of my hand. She kicks my right up in the nose, but my grip on her wrist is still sharp. She's managed to remain calm, but Agent Hill immediately takes her down, piercing her knife in to Agent Black's thigh.

"Chris!" I rush to Agent Zero's side, resting his head on my lap.

[BLACKOUT]"Hello? Hello? Director 13 come in! It's me, Natasha. Agent Morales is unconscious, get her now!"[/BLACKOUT]

I look over to Agent Hill, who quickly starts up the engines of the jet, slinging Agent Black in to the cell.

"Genosha Bay here we come...."
 
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HAMMER agents scurry as I charge towards the electrified fence, pulling a grenade from my belt and hurling it forwards. It's a small incendiary explosive, not one made for anti-personnel purposes, but for removing obstacles quickly. The blast of white-hot energy slices right through the fence, melting a hole large enough for me to pass through with little trouble.

Getting through the minefield is more a matter of taking a leap of faith, bounding through the sand in as large strides as I can in order to spend as little time as possible in the field. My luck runs out about ten paces away from the hole in the fence, as I can feel a mine begin to trigger under my feet. Thankfully, the advances in modern mine technology give me a precious split-second to save my life.

Whereas older, World War-era landmines simply exploded underground when triggered, modern ones first spring their explosive charge into the air, allowing for a better spread of lethal shrapnel. While for a normal soldier this would make the mine far deadlier, for me it allows just enough time to dive forward, tuck into a roll that spins me around, and get my shield up to protect myself from the blast.

Once I'm inside the base, a line of HAMMER soldiers rushes forward to meet me, guns at the ready.

"You really don't want to do this, fellas," I say, sinking into a fighting stance. For a second, a few of them actually do hesitate, unsure if they've got it in them to open fire on Captain America--or his kid in his costume, at least. Then their commander fires a shot that PANGs harmlessly off my shield.

"Suit yourself," I say before rushing at them, weaving back and forth in a serpentine pattern to throw off their fire--and more importantly, to make it harder for the remaining snipers to draw a bead on me.

I take down the leader first with a lunging punch, then follow up with a hard kick to another's sternum and a bash to a third's face with my shield before the guards break rank and start to run. I don't pursue, but instead continue to make my way towards the solitary confinement cells, deflecting bullets from the snipers as I go.

Once I get inside, the fighting's easier in the sense that the hallways limit the possible directions of fire, but also more difficult in the sense that the confined space cuts down on my range of movement. Still, the HAMMER guards aren't much of a match for me as I fight my way through them. I find myself wondering whether Fury's man Monroe is having the same trouble as I am. So far, all the attention seems to be on me, which almost makes me believe Fury was hoping on me to act as a diversion for his own plans...

By the time I make it to the level where Danvers is being held, the number of guards has thinned significantly: only a few with powerful energy weapons and thick body armor. They'd be trouble enough for most, but their armor slows them down, and I'm able to get around them quickly enough to take them down with little trouble.

I reach the cell, and knock on the door.

"Captain Danvers, are you in there? This is Captain America; I'm here to--*nngh!*"

I'm cut off by a lightning-fast blow to the back of my head, followed up by a flurry of punches and kicks to my legs and body. I stagger forward before turning around, getting my shield up to block a powerful spinning kick, and I see my opponent.

[BLACKOUT]"Sorry, Captain, but if you want to get to Miss Marvel..."[/BLACKOUT]

Iron-Man-2-Black-Widow-scarlett.jpg


[BLACKOUT]"...then you're going to have to go through me first."[/BLACKOUT]
 
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"As soon as we land, go straight to the Hospital block, get Agent Zero seen too. I'll take Agent Black to the Prison myself. Understood?"

Agent Hill nods, carefully lowering the jet over the skies of Africa. I check Agent Zero's pulse, he's still breathing. Slowly prompting Agent Zero up against the wall, I storm over towards Agent Black. I immediately throw my fist across her face, awakening her. She grunts, spitting out blood from her mouth. "You like to ***** with HAMMER, right? Well see how you like it when you're put in the middle of over 1000 crazy a** mutants,"

She chuckles, and I stick my index and middle finger straight at her neck, silencing her instantly. The jet shakes slightly, as we get closer and closer to Genosha Bay.

-

The sun beats down on my skin. I tie my hair back and push Agent Black in front of me. No longer, will she be Agent Black. She will now be known as 'Camilla Black'. Maria Hill has taken Agent Zero to the Hospital, so it's just me. I try and contact Natasha, but there's no reply. Something's up. Three HAMMER agents race out of the Prison, guns held tight. They shout and scream at me, pointing back to the prison.

"Director 13! It's Captain America, he's in the building!"

My world goes silent for a second. My grip on Camilla drops, letting her fall to the ground. I walk forward, slowly and steadily. I order the guards to stay with Camilla, as my pace starts picking up. I don't think I've ever ran this fast before.

My vision is blurred but I still manage to jolt through in to the prison, ignoring various HAMMER agents. I stop as I see Agent Morale's wounded body. I bend down and grunt, looking around. Various agents have been taken down too. Wether Camilla or Cap did this, is unknown. I continue pacing around the cells, making my way towards Natasha.
 
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Third and fourth period classes went on about the same as they always do; Flash and Eddie did their best to humiliate me in gym class, this time in tug of war, getting everyone on my side except me to let go of the rope so I go flying onto my face. In all honesty I could probably take the entire class by myself, but like always, I have to just take it, for the sake of not exposing my super-powers. There's a little bit of irony that I'm sure would be funnier if it weren't happening to me, in that the gym that I'm routinely made the butt of their jokes is the exact same gym that I saved all their lives just a few weeks ago.

Mercifully, gym class lets out not too long after my spectacular face-plant, and it's on to Advanced Chemistry, the one refuge where I really excel. After a good ninety minutes of being the unabashed teacher's pet, it's time to head home, so I make my way to the parking lot...but not immediately to Harry's car.

Instead, I loiter out by the exit for a few minutes, trying to catch Gwen before Eddie shows up. Finally, she shows, blowing right past me just like she did when MJ and I ran into her earlier this morning.

"Gwen? Hey, c'mon, it's me," I plead as she gives me the silent treatment. "You haven't said more than two sentences to me in days, you're not answering my calls....did I do something stupid?"

It's actually pretty pathetic the way I'm following after her in front of everyone.

"Look, I heard that you were...y'know, upset about something," I say, nearly getting run over by a car pulling out of its spot as I follow her into the parking lot. When I see we're out of earshot from the crowd, I continue. "Harry told me Liz caught you crying in the bathroom the other day. I know I haven't been around as much as usual, because I've been off doing my...y'know, my other stuff. But if something's wrong, I just want to make sure that....that you're okay, and stuff."

Gwen stops, but still doesn't say anything.

"I was gonna say 'don't make me beg,' but I'm gonna do it anyway. I'm begging you. Just...talk to me. Please."

Finally, she sighs, and looks back at me.

"Mary Jane Watson? Really?"

"Huh? What about her?" I ask, taken aback a second by it.

"You tell me, Peter. You've been spending all your free time with her lately, ever since you pried her away from Flash Thompson. It's like you just completely forgot how mean she was to us."

"Hey, come on, she's changed since then,"
I say on MJ's behalf. Gwen may be my oldest and best friend, but that doesn't mean she gets a free pass to badmouth the girl I'm currently head-over-heels for. "She's a lot deeper than she lets on, she has a great sense of humor, we just click on a lot of things. I mean, okay, I'm not entirely sure if she's actually wanting to date me or just hang out, but still, I've gotta admit, I like spending time with her. I think you would too if you gave her a chance."

"I don't know, it's just......."
she pauses for a second, like she's not sure if she can ask what she wants to. "....do you really think she's right for you? Because, if we're being honest? I think you can do better."

That last part actually gets under my skin a bit.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I hear myself saying before I can stop myself. "Is Eddie Brock's girlfriend giving me grief over who I'm seeing now?"

Gwen bites down on her lip before storming off. Nice one, Parker. I'm fast enough to dodge bullets, but apparently not fast enough to stop my big mouth.

"Wait, come on, please, I didn't mean it like that," I say, stumbling over myself and my words. "I mean, the whole thing with you and Eddie and me and MJ, it's weird and all, and we don't get to hang out as much as we used to, but we're still....y'know. It's not like this changes how I feel about you."

"And how's that?" She says, spinning around to get right in my face. This close, I can actually see her eyes are starting to well up, her cheeks starting to turn red.

"....how's what?"

"How exactly do you feel about me?"

With that question, my brain, which can calculate complicated acrobatics in midair, which can give me total awareness of my surroundings at all times even when blindfolded, which can alert me to dangers coming at me at a hundred miles an hour, suddenly locks up like a computer running on Vista.

"....I--.....um, well, it's just--.....I mean, you and me, we're........y'know, you and me, right? I just.....um....no, wait, I--"

"Exactly," she says with a sense of disappointed finality before turning to leave. "Try again when you're able to come up with a coherent answer for that sentence."

Gwen walks off towards Eddie's car, and I'm left standing there, completely baffled, but with the unshakable feeling that I've screwed things up even more. Maybe the Big Man and Silvermane will take tonight off, so I can spend my evening banging my head against a wall.

Before I can find the nearest hard flat surface to use for self-inflicted cranial trauma, my Spider-Senses alert me to an oncoming threat, aimed for the back of my head. I instinctively juke my head to the right, and in my peripheral vision I see Eddie Brock's hand, completely whiffing on his attempted slap upside my head.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Parker?" he asks in a demanding tone, like I'd done something to him. I roll my eyes as I turn to face him.

"You mean aside from being harassed by a brainless tool? Not much at the moment."

"I mean you running around after Gwen like that,"
he says, a growl in his voice. "What do you think you're doing talking to my girl, huh?"

"Oh yeah, my best friend since third grade? Yeah, why ever would I want to talk to her, right?"

Eddie actually grabs me by the collar, and it's all I can do to not just grab his arms and crush the bones. Just this morning I fought a pack of heavily-armed mobsters and a guy made completely out of sand; I really don't have the patience to be intimidated by this clown.

Still, he gets right in my face, talking in a low tone so no one but me hears him.

"Whatever it is you did, you made her upset. And the more she's upset, the more she goes on and on talking about you, the less quality time she's willing to put in with me. I've been working on her for over a month now and I still haven't gotten past first base, because you keep getting in my way."

That's what he's mad about?! Not the fact that Gwen's going through some personal issues, but the fact that it slows him down from getting lucky? I ought to break this creep in half right now!

"Get your hands off of me, Brock," I say flatly, trying as hard as I can to not haul off on him. I could literally punch a hole right through this guy, right now. Seriously. Right through him.

"Or what, Parker?" Eddie says with a laugh.

"Or else you're gonna have to answer to me, Eddie," Harry says as he grabs Eddie by the shoulders and yanks him away from me.

"Hands off, rich kid!" Eddie says, spinning around and shoving Harry back. "You really wanna try and start something with me, for Parker's sake? Why are you sticking up for this loser, huh?"

"Because Pete's my friend," Harry answers, putting himself between me and Eddie, just like he did when he tried to shield Mary Jane from Electro. "He used to be your friend too, remember? Back before I left, the four of us were always hanging out together. Then when I come back, you're dumping on him to get cool points with Flash and Kong?"

"I got in with a better class of people,"
Eddie says. "It's not like you didn't move out of the nerd herd yourself to be one of us winners. Hanging out with Parker was holding me back. That's what you never caught onto, Osborn."

"No, I just remembered who my real friends are, instead of selling them out for a social status that stops mattering the second you graduate."

"Or drop out, more likely in your case," I chime in before Harry shoots me a "shut up, you're not helping" look and I clam up again.

"Y'know, Harry, I don't know what everyone else sees in you that's got you so popular," Eddie says with a sneer, "but under all your new clothes and attitude, you're still just a loser like Parker here."

"Better than being a dick like you any day," Harry practically spits in Brock's face. "At least there are people who like Pete. More people might recognize you, Brock, but nobody at this school likes you. Hell, even Gwen can't stand you; she's just waiting for someone better before she dumps your ass."

With that, Eddie finally loses what's left of his cool and socks Harry in the face. Harry stumbles back, but to his credit he doesn't go down. I rush forward to go after Eddie, but Harry grabs my arm to hold me back.

For a few cold moments, Brock and I just stare death at each other, before Eddie finally snorts and walks away.

"****ing prick," Harry finally mutters before turning and heading toward his car. "Come on, Pete, let's go. Liz is waiting at the car, and I think I'm gonna need an icepack for my eye."

"Yeah," is all I'm able to say as we walk through the parking lot. "So....are you gonna be all right?"

"Eh,"
Harry shrugs, "I punched a reporter a couple weeks ago when that whole scandal involving my dad and that Fisk guy made the news. Broke the guy's nose. So I guess a black eye is a little bit of karma."

"Well, um....thanks for sticking up for me."

"Don't mention it."

*****

A couple hours later, I'm done with my homework and trying to decide what to do with my evening. The obvious choice is to go on patrol, but after fighting the Sandman and the Maggia before school even started, I think I might be pressing my luck by going out twice in one day. Mary Jane said she's doing a thing tonight, so that's no good either. And Harry's off with Liz, letting her tend to his valiantly-earned war wound.

As I wander aimlessly around Norman's penthouse, I pull out my phone and check my voicemail.

You have (2) unheard messages and (1) old messages.

MESSAGE 1:

"Peter Parker? This is J. Jonah Jameson, Editor in Chief of the
Daily Bugle. I'm calling you in regards to some photographs that one of my reporters credited you with taking, the ones with all those freak-show superheroes in Times Square. Come down to my office at 4:30 tomorrow afternoon, sharp. Understood? Good."

Well, that was....unexpected. I mean, I was going to try and get in touch with the Bugle about those pictures myself, but hey, guess they decided to get to me first. Gotta wonder how they got my number, though. I won't lie, that kinda creeps me out a little.

MESSAGE 2:

"Peter, this is George Stacy. I'm just calling you to remind you that Gwen's birthday is coming up next week, and...well, you know how much it means to her for you to be there. Just make sure to bring some flowers this time. Same time, at the usual place. And, um, stay out of trouble until then."

Ah yes, the annual awkward reminder call from Captain Stacy. The one time of year when he doesn't intimidate the bejeezus out of me.

MESSAGE 3:

"Hello, I'm trying to reach a Mister...Peter Parker. This is Gregory Bestman, head of Admissions at Empire State University, and I'm calling to let you know about some recent developments regarding your submission to the recent ESU Science Fair....."

Oh yeah, this is an old one, forgot to delete it. Why does that name keep ringing a bell, though? I could swear I heard it just today.....

".....the ESU murder!" I blurt out when I remember.

"What?" Harry calls from the next room over.

"Nothing, just....something in a book," I say. "It's a really good one!"

"Sounds boring,"
Harry says before going back to whatever he's doing, which allows me time to think.

Gregory Bestman was the man who was mysteriously killed on the ESU campus the night of the Times Square attack. The one who was apparently dropped from a huge height when there were no huge heights around from which he could be dropped.

He was also the same person who awarded me the ESU Scholarship money that was taken from Blackie Drago.....after his VULTURE flying suit was disqualified for cheating.....

.....and for the last couple of days, Blackie's been awfully content with himself in class.

"Oh holy crap," I say under my breath.

With that, I pull my mask and hoodie out from my backpack, grab some refill cartridges for my web-shooters out from under my bed, and sneak out the window.

In class today, Blackie said he was going to spend the evening working with his mentor Mister Toomes, then go over to Debra Whitman's house for God knows what. Which means both of them might be in incredible danger.

One of my classmates is a murderer. And tonight, I'm going to bring him in.
 
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With a grimace displayed on her face, Laynia had finally made her way down to Times Square. The look on her face was a result of what Times Square looked like now, compared to the image in her guide book. The once bright hive had been reduced to rubble and ruins, even now workers were removing debris with machinery. Maybe some of these men would be willing to answer some questions.

She walked along the destruction zone, be sure to keep a safe distance. Laynia took a couple quick pictures, as well as some short hand notes and it wasn’t long until she found just what she was looking for.

“Excuse me, excuse me sir” Waving at the construction worker, looked like some sort of supervisor to Laynia, He was actually operating any machinery and seemed to be orchestrating much of the clean up effort. “Excuse me. Press. Could I have a quick word with you please?” She smiled, and finally coaxed the man to come over to her.
“Oh. Thank you so much.” She thanked, honestly and truthfully. Approaching the man and closing up the space between them.

“What can I do for you ma’am?” The foreman replied, glancing over the work zone and back to the blond reporter.

“Well I work for Le Nouvel Observateur, I was sent here to investigate the recent violence circulating around this whole mutant topic. I must say, what has happened here is quite tragic, my heart goes out to the victims and their families. What I would like, is your opinion. As well, if you would be willing, any information you could provide”.

“Ma’am. If you ask me. This is worse then 9/11. These people are American citizens and they are ruining their own country.” He scratched his chin and adjusted his safety goggles. “What I don’t understand is where they all came from and what do they really want?” The man looked troubled, angered even as he explained more of the events that had taken place in Times Square. The reconstruction costs, the lost lives, the destruction of businesses…

“Im glad the government has made a move and is forcing these freaks to register. At least they are not running wild….” He paused and took in the desolate surroundings, “But then again, something must be done about this…” Laynia hide her frown, people were so quick to stereotype groups of individuals.

They continued to talk for only a while longer, exchanged business cards and the pair returned to their own separate duties. Laynia decided to continue to explore as much of Times Square as possible despite the barricades, piles of broken glass and concrete. She took many photographs of the hotspot, impact points and landmarks that were no more.

Laynia had seen destruction and unrest among the people, had seen towns and cities toppled…If her instincts were right, this was far from over. She spoke would some shop owners down the street for the main incident. The general view seemed to be that people were afraid of mutant kind, wanted answers or action for that matter, from the government. No one seemed to have any really information on the governments role in this, or what their ultimate agenda was. And what about these American citizens who were blessed with an X-gene? What did they have to say about all of this?

Perhaps it was time to do things a little differently, yes?
 
We all make our way to the front of the tractor-trailer as we made it to our destination. General Ryker stood in front of us chatting with someone on his ear piece no doubt getting Bruce’s position.

“Copy that.” He replies as he must have gotten the news he was looking for. He then turns back towards us.

“Okay we have the location of the target, he is just 8 miles up this hill in the middle of no where. So if things do happen to make a turn for the worse we won’t have to worry about pedestrians. We are going to wait for our back up to get is positions around the area so we can make a containment field if he happens to try and escape. We only have one shot at this, mistakes are not allowed.”

Rider and the rest of the group seem to be ready for action. I just can’t believe that same person I met is the some one on the file. If what I read is true things are only going to get ugly. I have to get to Bruce before the rest do.

I take a moment looking around and notice everyone is standing next to General Ryker waiting for the go. As they prepare I sneak to the back of the trailer and get a motorcycle from inside. I roll it down the ramp and quickly look around the trailer and see that no one even knows I disappeared. Wasting no time I quickly jump on the bike and start it. Knowing the sound of the bike will get their attention I take off heading to cabin to warn Bruce with haste.

“What are doing soldier?”

General Ryker’s voice screams in my ear, by the tone I know he isn’t to happy. Coming out and telling him I’m going to warn Bruce is not going to be good for me.

“Sorry sir I can’t wait, I’m going to get him now.” I tell him trying to make my self sound believable but it should be believe he doesn't know that i know Bruce, well I some what know him.

“Listen to me soldier it took us weeks or planning and your dumb Rambo act is only going to mess things up. Come back right now that is an ORDER!”

I take the ear piece out of my ear. Yeah this is not going to be good at all, Rider is going to be pissed.

*****​

General Ryker then looks to the Gamma Squad. “Plans change we’re moving out now. Get in your vehicles lets go.” It was obvious he didn’t want to leave but he had no choice thanks to Rick’s actions.

Rider watches Rick taking off heading to Bruce.

“Damn it Rick, why are you being so stupid? If you mess this up for us I’m be pissed.” Rider says as he throws the strap from his gun over his shoulder and joins the others.

Rider always said one of my problems is I tend to act without thinking. I’ve done a lot of idiotic stuff since being a member of HAMMER but I think this one may be the dumbest. I really don’t even know this guy but I’m willing to risk everything for him? Maybe Rider is right I need to start thinking things out more often. Then again it has to be a reason I’m ridding this motorcycle through the woods trying to find this so called monster before the other agents do.

As I make my way through the woods I could see a cabin just up ahead. Chances are he probably hears the bike I hope he doesn’t high tail it out of there.

Before the bike could comes to a complete stop I jump off of it as it ghost rids off in the distance. After leaping off the bike I run straight to the door. I’m not even sure what I’m going to say if he opens the door but it’s a little to late to thinking about that. So with no more time to waste I give three quick loud knocks.
 
Rider always said one of my problems is I tend to act without thinking. I’ve done a lot of idiotic stuff since being a member of HAMMER but I think this one may be the dumbest. I really don’t even know this guy but I’m willing to risk everything for him? Maybe Rider is right I need to start thinking things out more often. Then again it has to be a reason I’m ridding this motorcycle through the woods trying to find this so called monster before the other agents do.

As I make my way through the woods I could see a cabin just up ahead. Chances are he probably hears the bike I hope he doesn’t high tail it out of there.

Before the bike could comes to a complete stop I jump off of it as it ghost rids off in the distance. After leaping off the bike I run straight to the door. I’m not even sure what I’m going to say if he opens the door but it’s a little to late to thinking about that. So with no more time to waste I give three quick loud knocks.

[FONT=&quot]Bruce been sitting there for a while, lost in the thoughts that had began to crowd his already populated mind. What was he supposed to take away from this book? What was a man who had the same affliction as this character to do? Would the same happen to him? Bruce was shaken from his thoughts by three quick knocks at the door, startled by the sudden break in silence, Bruce took his time, grabbed the fire poker and holding it like a baseball bat. Hands one over the other at the bottom, but not at the very end. He held it close to his person, he took one hand from it and grasped the handle of the door and creaked it open until he could look outside through the sliver of outside light.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“You? What are you doing here?” His grip tightened around the poker, letting the pointed end of it come to rest on the wood floor boards. It was the guard from the HAMMER Hellicarrier, before they offered him that deal. He was still wary, but he would be more trusting of this one. Of course they might be using that against him. Bruce wasn’t sure. He kept hold of the poker in case the organization was waiting behind him.[/FONT]
 
I would have never thought in a thousand years that Sabretooth would be giving me some advice and some good advice at that. I guess you should never judge a book by its cover.

“I guess your right, So I guess I might as well learn to accept the situation I’m in huh? Between me and you, I do kinda like the fighting part. Also getting news powers is also cool.”

With all this negativity it’s always good to think of the positive to help you survive what ever situation you maybe in and this one is mine so I should make the best of it.
[FONT=&quot]Victor laughed a small laugh, maybe a chuckle would be a better description, and what Calvin said about the fighting and new powers. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Don’t accept the situation, accept who you are and where this situation will take you, until you yourself are satisfied with where you are, what you are doing.” He thought back, thought about all these things that he’s done. Murder, massacre, killing destroying, all for the greater good of his species. [/FONT]

War Prison, Location unknown. Unknown time before 1980

[FONT=&quot]Sabretooth crept through the shadows like a jungle cat on the prowl looking for prey. The rest of the brotherhood waited for him to give the signal, the signal would be the tallest guard tower going lights out.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The cold stone or concrete, Victor wasn’t quite sure, was wet with with the rain as he scaled the wall. The precipitation beat down on him as he he reached for the heavens. His dark green tank top stuck to his trunk.[/FONT]

Now, Westchester New York, Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters

[FONT=&quot]“Even if you have to do terrible things, sometimes. Its worth it, every bit.”[/FONT]


GENOSHA, 1992

[FONT=&quot]Victor walked away from that camp, the young girl still in his arms. She looked up at him as the dark morning air brought a breeze that picked up his hair and blew it back behind him, like the covers of those romance novels people read that are more full of crap then Sci-Fi literature.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Your gonna be alright, I’ll watch over you.” He said in a near whisper as they continued to move for freedom.[/FONT]

Now

[FONT=&quot]“Because in the end, no matter what you do…”[/FONT]


Canadian Wilderness, five years ago

[FONT=&quot]Sabretooth had told Erik he could handle this mission himself, that he wouldn’t need other members of the Brotherhood, they would get in his way in this case. He had pursued it through the forests for days on end, waiting for the chance to pounce. As he came over a ridge of barely stable, very large stones he saw it moving fast across a clearing.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“RAHNE!” he shouted before taking a leap and running after her himself.[/FONT]

Now

[FONT=&quot]“No matter who you have to hunt down, fight, or kill, for the good of the species…”[/FONT]


Six Months ago, Canadian Asylum for the Criminally Insane, North of Montreal

[FONT=&quot]“Here he is, Kyle Gibney, Murder one, acts like some kind of animal, cant let him around anything that breathes…he kills it.” The doctor who they had paid to let release Gibney to them had halted infront of the large metal door with no glass and just bars on it every few inches apart, there was utter darkness inside. And then something moved.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Victor had followed Erik here, dressed as a body guard, all black suit, no white at all. His long dirty blond hair tied behind his head in a pony tail. He beard stubble between his mutton chops and the full goatee. Dark sunglasses prevented his amber eyes from being seen.[/FONT]

Now

[FONT=&quot]“The ends justify the means.”[/FONT]
 
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THE GHOST RIDER

"Listen up, everyone!"

I stand precariously on my bar stool, holding a beer over my head and urging the bar to silence. Someone in the back turns down the music, and I nod appreciatively. I point to the guest-of-honor seated at the bar.

"I have known Elias Wirtham for thirteen years now, and he's one of the finest officers this department has ever seen," I announce. A round of rousing cheers comes from the assembled crowd of slightly-drunken police officers. "Now, in his own words, Elias is 'too old for this s***,' but we all know the truth."

I grin from ear to ear.

"You're just trying to retire to the Florida Keys with your mistress!"

The crowd laughs heartily, and I hold up my hands for silence once more.

"In all seriousness, though, the department's never going to be the same without you, buddy. I know I'm not. You're a damn good policeman, but you're a better man, so..."

I raise my beer as high as I can.

"Here, here!"

***

After Wirtham's retirement party disperses, I begin the long walk home. I'm a little tipsy - more so than I expected - but it was a good night. As I turn the corner down the street, I send Roxanne a quick message to let her know how the party went. While my head's down, something hard comes up behind me and hits me in the back of the neck. I fall to the ground, and there's a rush of footsteps surrounding me.

"Get him out of the street, man."

I recognize that voice. Before I have time to think about it, two men grab me by my shoulders and drag me into an alleyway. The larger of the two picks me up and throws me against a dumpster. The back of my head hits with a 'CLUNK,' and my vision begins to blur.

"Stand him up."

The two men grab me and lift me to my feet. My head's throbbing. The third man jabs me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

"Evening, officer."

I look up into the eyes of my assailant. "Leo." Leo Booth, small-time punk with aspirations of becoming a criminal extraordinaire. I've busted him a couple of times, but the weasel always finds his way out. I honestly didn't hear that he had been released this time.

"Getting tired of seeing that ugly mug of yours, Blaze," Leo sneers. He spits in my face before punching me in the stomach again. "You've been a pain in my ass too long, and it's gotta stop."

A combination of the alcohol in my system and being blindsided has all but taken me out of this fight. I'm outnumbered, and the blows I took to the head and neck have me severely disoriented. Leo's just begun, yet I'm already clinging to consciousness. This is the situation no police officer wants to find himself in - cornered by a dangerous criminal while off-duty.

Leo reaches into his pocket and draws something small and shiny. With a flick of his wrist, the switchblade extends. I feel a surge of adrenaline at seeing the knife, but Leo's pals hold me in place. Leo quickly goes to work, driving the small blade into and out of my torso in quick succession. Each stab sends sharp pain throughout my body, and I'm powerless to stop it. I elect to go limp and pray that the onslaught ends soon.

After a minute or two of having Leo repeatedly stab me, he apparently loses interest and tucks his bloody knife away. Rubbing his blood-stained hands against the front of his shirt, he nods to his associates. The one on my right punches me in the gut while the one on the left hits me across the chin.

"Let's finish this."

I lay writhing on the ground while Leo's boys cross the alley to pick something up. A moment later, I detect the distinct smell of gasoline. My mind races at the horror of what's about to happen. I barely have time to process it before a stream of warm liquid falls over my head. My nostrils are filled with the smell of it as I hold my bleeding stomach tightly.

After Leo's partners have emptied their containers, Leo bends down to look me in the eye one last time. "I told you I'd pay you back for all you did to me. Consider us even." Leo takes out a lighter and holds it before my eyes. With a careless flick of the wrist, he tosses it onto my back. It takes the flames less than a second to spread across my entire body.

"NNNNNNNNYYYYYYAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHH!"
 
cykebanner.jpg



"Any intel on this guy?" I ask Pryde as I duck behind the wreckage of our SUV for cover, while the Cajun lays down suppressing fire--flicking playing cards which turn into explosive blasts--as he runs for cover himself.


"Hang on, checking the database now," Kitty says, her intangibility making cover unnecessary as she stand out in the open, puling up data on her PDA. "Got it: Remy LeBeau, a long-time operative of the Brotherhood under the call sign 'Gambit.' Has the power to supercharge an object's potential energy into an explosive just by touching it. Before joining up with Lensherr, he had a huge rap-sheet of crimes, mostly along the lines of grand theft. His specialty's snatch-and-grab missions, which I guess explains why Magneto sent him here."

"Thought I recognized him," I mutter to myself, "He was one of Magneto's men during the attack on the White House."

"Cyclops,"
Husk calls out after tearing off her epidermis, revealing a stronger metallic skin underneath, "if this guy's Brotherhood, we have to call it in. Colonel Haller specifically said all Brotherhood encounters are Captain Worthington's--"

"Angel's team won't get here in time," I cut her off before returning fire at Gambit, letting loose with an optic blast that clips him on the shoulder before he ducks back around the corner of the motel. "And at any rate, our mission still remains: locate and recover Anna Marie."

Gambit flings another card towards us, blasting a crater in the asphalt not two feet from me.

"Shadowcat, Warpath, search the motel for the girl. Husk, you get in close and take Gambit down; I'll lay down covering fire."

"On it,"
Pryde says, running through the wall of the motel. Warpath just nods before taking off towards the stairwell.

Husk maintains her position while I break away from behind the SUV, bolting out into the parking lot, bobbing and weaving to avoid Gambit's explosive cards, before ducking behind a dumpster facing the Cajun's position. The cover isn't as good, but the vantage point allows me a much better spot.

"Ready to move, sir," Husk says, her metal skin gleaming.

"On my mark.....NOW!" I say, letting out a wide beam of energy at Gambit, who dives behind a car to avoid the blast. Husk charges around the corner towards the car, which suddenly takes on a pinkish glow.

"Wait, get back, that thing's going to--"

My warning's cut off by a thunderous BOOM, Husk sent flying as the car explodes.

"Oh my, I'm afraid mam'selle was dealt a bad hand," Gambit calls out from behind a different car. "I'd suggest you an' your friends get going before the rest of you end up lookin' as bad off as she does."

"Not happening, LeBeau," I say, popping out from behind the dumpster and closing in on him, going from cover to cover. "We're here because there's a girl who needs our help."

"Funny thing about that,"
the Cajun laughs as he blasts the trunk off of the car I'm crouched behind. "Magneto told me the same thing."

"Magneto doesn't want to 'help' this girl. He wants to turn her into a weapon!"

"An' Colonel Haller don't?" LeBeau asks with another laugh. "Way I see it, soldier boy, you 'n your team are on the wrong side if you really wanna help mutants."

Gambit throws another trio of cards, which I blast out of the air.

"Cyclops? It's Shadowcat,"I hear Pryde's voice on my headset. "I've just found Warpath on the second floor--he's down, sir."

"Damn," I curse under my breath. "Stay on the lookout, and don't let anyone touch you."

Across the parking lot, I hear Gambit chuckle.

"Lose another of your troops there, did you? Maybe it's time you reconsider this mission an' just chalk up another loss. After all, it ain't the first time the Brotherhood's taken one of your girls."

He's mocking me, the smug Cajun scumbag. He's actually gloating about how they took Jean away from me....that they're still holding her prisoner...planning on doing something horrible....

"NOT THIS TIME!" I shout, letting loose with an optic blast that obliterates the car Gambit was hiding behind, sending the Cajun tumbling back amidst the debris.

I get out from behind cover and walk toward him, my visor glowing bright red as I charge another blast. Gambit coughs and groans for a few seconds, then slowly picks himself back up.

"Surrender right now, Lebeau," I order.

"...all right, mon ami, you've got me," he sighs, putting his hands up. "Always gotta know when it's time to fold...."

I let the charge of my optic blast disperse, and I see a smirk crawl across his face.

"...and to know when to play the ace up your sleeve."

With that, the Cajun produces another pair of cards that he'd hidden in the sleeves of his jacket. They glow bright magenta as he charges them to explode....

.....then the light flickers for a second before shutting out completely, and Remy LeBeau collapses unconscious onto the pavement.

Behind him is a girl who gives me a hard stare.

"I hear you boys goin' on and on about where I'm goin' and what I'm gonna do, if I'm goin' to the X-Men or the Brotherhood, an' none of you even bothered to ask me about it...."

evo1.jpg


"So how's about you make your case before I do to you what I did to him?"
 
Crossbones liked his life. No more having to be a piss ant soldier. No, now he was something greater. The Geist made him an offer a while back, to turn him into the biggest badass in the world and then the doctor made him a new offer. Sure, they all think the Skull was in charge nothing more than a figurehead. Crossbones was to look after him and guide him. Maybe a few times get a few special opportunities like taking care of that Rogers woman. He was having the time of his life.

Although, he was pissed as of late. His comfortable life is getting uncomfortable. The Skull's been losing it, he thinks. Provoking Captain American and HAMMER and the way he was acting around Sin, some high maintenance daddy's girl who was looking for a new way of life. He was also getting increasingly violent. Originally, the Geist wanted to but him down and Crossbones know that they've done it in the past but not this one. Sure he's far gone but deep down in there was his friend, who would have hated what he was if he knew. Zola seems fine with him, though. He was approaching the Skull's quarters to check on him when he heard him talking to himself...no not himself there were two voices, one a thick German accent and the other American, not the Skull's voice either...the one he used before he changed. He hurried but the German faded out.

"Brock," he stopped in his tracks, "come here, Brock. We need to talk...friend to friend, brother to brother," the voice changed to the German, "that is an order! Enter or I will have your head chopped off and put on a pike!" He ready his gun.

"You dare raise your weapon to a commanding officer! Drop all your weapons at the outside. NOW! Please Brock I just want to talk." Crossbones did so and dropped his guns. He appeared in the doorway. The Skull slouched his chair that was spinning around. He was surrounded by monitors that depicted events from the past twenty years:the Kennedy Assassination, the Moon Landing, The Beatles on Ed Sullivan, the wall falling, Martin Luther King's speech, and many shots of Vietnam.

"I've missed much, haven't I?"

"What?"

"Never mind. He's gone now....Brock, I remember."

"I've kind of figured. You remember my name." The Skull seemed vacant.

"It happened the day I looked into the Cube. Something inside of it called out to me. Reached for me and Zola's shoddy programing accepted it. It cleaned out all his programing....I hate myself. I regret everything I done...what we done. I tried killing myself a number of times but he stopped me. He takes over when he wants but I can fight him off for a few minutes. He's getting stronger by the day, screaming in the back of my head."

Crossbones stood in silence.

"He's devised a plan that goes back to World War II. To usurp the Geist, Zola, everything. Complete global insurrection."

"Who?"


"I guess you'll find out soon enough. I could have been the next Captain America, that's why I signed up for their program...they lied to me. You're going to help me...him..." He face contorted into a grin, "besides what are friends for?"
 
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Mac trudged through the sewers, knee high in human waste.

“Thank god for this suit.” He uttered a he continued following the grains that ran along the very thin ledge to his left. He heard a voice.

[FONT=&quot][/FONT]

Mac slowed down to reduce the slushy noise of his movement. He was gaining on Marko. He heard a grate pulled up from the concrete below.

“Oh crap, what now?” he mumbled mostly to himself. Scorpion quickened his pace back up, turning a corner to see what was left of Marko as the granules rolled their way into his small, inhuman sandy form.

“Jesus Christ.” He stared at Flint as he heard something coming their way.

As Scorpion found him, Sandman tried valiantly to form some weapon out of his appendages, but he could barely make a spoon. So he did what he could. He ran. Or more accurately he wobbled like a penguin.

He could practically feel the Scorpion's breath on his neck as he moved, until he reached what seemed to be a dead end. he had run into an old section of the sewer, made of bricks rather than cement. Flint tried to grab onto the wall to steady himself.

"End of the road Flint. Just give yourself up and make this easier for everybody."

Not happening imbecile. Floyd thought. Sandman began to seep through the brick wall, and in a matter of moments he was gone.

I can see the lab from here. Sandman thought, now in a long tunnel, some artificial white light shining in the distance. Hopefully he won't break his way through here. But just incase...

He started frantically running around the lab and pulling items from drawers before he looked at what he had with a smile. "This'll do." He said, admiring his glove.
Glove.png


To be continued...
 
As Scorpion found him, Sandman tried valiantly to form some weapon out of his appendages, but he could barely make a spoon. So he did what he could. He ran. Or more accurately he wobbled like a penguin.

He could practically feel the Scorpion's breath on his neck as he moved, until he reached what seemed to be a dead end. he had run into an old section of the sewer, made of bricks rather than cement. Flint tried to grab onto the wall to steady himself.

"End of the road Flint. Just give yourself up and make this easier for everybody."

Not happening imbecile. Floyd thought. Sandman began to seep through the brick wall, and in a matter of moments he was gone.

I can see the lab from here. Sandman thought, now in a long tunnel, some artificial white light shining in the distance. Hopefully he won't break his way through here. But just incase...

He started frantically running around the lab and pulling items from drawers before he looked at what he had with a smile. "This'll do." He said, admiring his glove.
Glove.png


To be continued...
“Marko!” Scorpion called out just as he “walked” through the wall. “Oh fun fun fun.” He mumbled as he found a ledge wide enough to stand on. He dragged his hands across the wall. Brick, course, and filled with holes, that’s how he got through. He continued walking with his tail curled up behind him.


When he found where Flint Marko had disappeared through he knocked on it to get an idea of what might be on the other side and how thick it was.


“MARKO!” he called from his own side of the brick wall. “READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!” As he spoke the last words he pulled back his green clad fist and threw it into the wall. It punctured and left a hole in the wall he could fit his arms through. Marko just had to run didn’t he? Mac rolled his neck and heard the bones crack, ya know like when you crack your knuckles? Doing that helped Mac loosen up. He interlocked his fingers and spread his arms to full length in front of his. With his other first he punched the wall multiple times, again and again and again. When there was a large enough hole he could peek in Mac leaned into it to see where he was following Marko to before throwing his knee through the wall to finish the job on the wall.


Looking down the cavernous tunnel lit from the top like a mine might be, Gargan started after the sand-morphing criminal.
 
MNLOGO.png



Spector winced as he pulled off the white undershirt. His body was dashed in a criss-cross array of scars. The latest one continued to leak blood down his now naked torso. Remembering the slash that had caused it, he cursed under his breath.

"You're getting sloppy"
he growled to himself as he picked up a crumpled cloth and began dabbing at the wound. He'd faced off against a bunch of car thieves. They hadn't proved much of a challenge and Spector had found himself lowering his guard, being just a touch too cocky for his own good. An extra man had emerged unseen behind him and had swung a vicious blade across him, going for the neck. Spector had seen the movement at the very last second and had dipped back. The blade had still caught him across the chest though and it had cut deeper than he had first thought. The attacker hadn't lasted long after that and Marc still relished the memory of his metal coated gloves slamming into the mans face ust a few more times than he needed to.

"You look like hell, mon ami".

Spector looked up to see the tall slender form of his old friend, Jean 'Frenchie' DuChamp. A lit smoke hung from thin lips as he leaned against the doorframe of the study Spector was sat in.

"I feel like it" He admitted, dropping the blood-soaked cloth into a bowl of warm water by his side.

"Need me to stitch that?" Frenchie asked casually.

Spector nodded. "Yeah. And when we've done, We need to start working on some better armour".

Frenchie shook his head and moved into the room, turning a lamp upon the wound to get a better look at it. He glanced into the eyes of his friend and shook his head. "Look at the state of you Marc. What you are doing is killing you. Maybe it is time to consider another path?"

Spector simply glared back.

"...Or maybe not."
Frenchie muttered with a sigh.
 
“Marko!” Scorpion called out just as he “walked” through the wall. “Oh fun fun fun.” He mumbled as he found a ledge wide enough to stand on. He dragged his hands across the wall. Brick, course, and filled with holes, that’s how he got through. He continued walking with his tail curled up behind him.


When he found where Flint Marko had disappeared through he knocked on it to get an idea of what might be on the other side and how thick it was.


“MARKO!” he called from his own side of the brick wall. “READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!” As he spoke the last words he pulled back his green clad fist and threw it into the wall. It punctured and left a hole in the wall he could fit his arms through. Marko just had to run didn’t he? Mac rolled his neck and heard the bones crack, ya know like when you crack your knuckles? Doing that helped Mac loosen up. He interlocked his fingers and spread his arms to full length in front of his. With his other first he punched the wall multiple times, again and again and again. When there was a large enough hole he could peek in Mac leaned into it to see where he was following Marko to before throwing his knee through the wall to finish the job on the wall.


Looking down the cavernous tunnel lit from the top like a mine might be, Gargan started after the sand-morphing criminal.

As Scorpion moved towards the sand creature, he didn't notice until the last minute the glowing orange table flying through the insubstantial sandman, striking him in the chest and sending him flying back.

After Scorpion looks up he sees a small bookish scientist standing behind Sandman, wearing what looks like a cross between blue overalls and a space suit. His right gloved hand was glowing with an orange light.
250px-Viktor_Barisov.PNG

"I'm sorry about this Scorpion. But we can't have you arresting us. Not yet." His hand glowed and a pulse of energy shot out and and tossed the Scorpion back a distance.

I'm glad that Howard Stark never went any further with element 99, otherwise they never would have sent the project to me. I still don't fully understand the unique telekinesis and pulse energy in this element. But, now's not the time to waste.


Floyd moved to the far end of the lab where some papers and a few advanced tool kits were gathered. Sandman stopped near an upturned hard drive, where a photograph stood taped to the bottom. Flint stared at the mother and father in the picture, holding the bald infant. Fa...Fa...Fathe-

His thoughts were interrupted by the man himself. "Flint, we need to go now!"Sandman tossed the hard drive aside, absentmindedly into the subway cavern, before moving to Floyd.

Floyd nodded before he started to move, his glove glowing orange again. "Grab the tools and move! To the next lab!" And as the Sandman moved, the roof of the lab began to glow an unearthly orange before some cracks formed and the lab was crushed by several tons of debris, and the escape route Flint and Floyd had used was blocked off from the outside.
 
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