The Create-A-Hero RPG Season III IC Thread!

[Mr. Majestic]

Icon nods to Youngster, then takes to the skies, heading East, hoping to find whoever destroyed Shakerville before he leaves another city in ruins.

As Icon soaring above the city I speed through it on the surface. While running I feel a change within myself. Everything that just took place moments ago felt as if I didn’t have control of myself. Something is going on with me I can feel it. I just need to keep it in check. I also need to apologize to Icon for what I did is not how I really act. It is how I felt deep down.But still thinking that way was childish and I know it. I just can’t believe I said those things to him.

While looking for person or thing responsible for all chaos I come to a stop at the only building that it standing and barley at that. Icon then comes down from the skies.

“There is someone in the building. I can hear their heart beat. As we were approaching it was beating pretty fast but not it has slowed down. I’m just assuming who ever is in there might have seen something.”

Man as he is right in front of me I feel even worse for how I acted towards him. Should I apologize to him now or shall I wait? Then again I need to put my personal stuff to the side and finish the job at hand.

“It may be a good idea to…”

As I was about to tell Icon we should walk in the building my super hearing picks up who ever was inside is making there way out. As we stand just feet away from the building an older gentleman wearing no shirt and some crazy looking pants that if I didn’t know any better I would think it wasn’t made on this planet. From first glance it doesn’t seem like he is hurt I don’t see any scares or anything.

“Sir did you see what did this?”

He stops from walking and looks at me and Icon.

“Are either of you from the Zarrtonian race?”

So either this guy is crazy or my guess about him wearing no clothes from this planet was right.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

As Icon soaring above the city I speed through it on the surface. While running I feel a change within myself. Everything that just took place moments ago felt as if I didn’t have control of myself. Something is going on with me I can feel it. I just need to keep it in check. I also need to apologize to Icon for what I did is not how I really act. It is how I felt deep down.But still thinking that way was childish and I know it. I just can’t believe I said those things to him.

While looking for person or thing responsible for all chaos I come to a stop at the only building that it standing and barley at that. Icon then comes down from the skies.

“There is someone in the building. I can hear their heart beat. As we were approaching it was beating pretty fast but not it has slowed down. I’m just assuming who ever is in there might have seen something.”

Man as he is right in front of me I feel even worse for how I acted towards him. Should I apologize to him now or shall I wait? Then again I need to put my personal stuff to the side and finish the job at hand.

“It may be a good idea to…”

As I was about to tell Icon we should walk in the building my super hearing picks up who ever was inside is making there way out. As we stand just feet away from the building an older gentleman wearing no shirt and some crazy looking pants that if I didn’t know any better I would think it wasn’t made on this planet. From first glance it doesn’t seem like he is hurt I don’t see any scares or anything.

“Sir did you see what did this?”

He stops from walking and looks at me and Icon.

“Are either of you from the Zarrtonian race?”

So either this guy is crazy or my guess about him wearing no clothes from this planet was right.

Before either hero is able to utter a response, something happens to the strange man. He begins to shake and convulse, as if gripped by some unseen force...then he begins to change. The man begins to grow until he is several feet taller than he had been previously. He shrieks in pain as his muscles bulge and expand until what was once a normal looking man now stands before them as a hulking monster.

The Youngster opens his mouth to say something, but the creature grabs him by the throat and slams him face first into the ground, and in one fluid motion brings the young hero back up and hits him with a devestating right hand that sends the Youngster flying through the outer wall of the ruined building, bringing the remains down on top of him.

Icon leaves his feet, taking off toward the hulking creature, however the monster beats him to the punch, knocking him into the ground.

Icon rolls to his feet and hits the attacker with a left hand that has little effect. Instead of falling to the ground as Icon had anticipated, the creature looks to Icon, cracks his neck and returns the favor, hitting the hero with a right hand that knocks him back several paces. The attacker then grabs Icon by the cape, slamming him into the ground in the same manner that he had done to Youngster, then hurls Icon through a telephone pole, snapping it in half.

Stunned, Icon looks up to see his attacker closing in on him, ready to press the attack.

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Before either hero is able to utter a response, something happens to the strange man. He begins to shake and convulse, as if gripped by some unseen force...then he begins to change. The man begins to grow until he is several feet taller than he had been previously. He shrieks in pain as his muscles bulge and expand until what was once a normal looking man now stands before them as a hulking monster.

The Youngster opens his mouth to say something, but the creature grabs him by the throat and slams him face first into the ground, and in one fluid motion brings the young hero back up and hits him with a devestating right hand that sends the Youngster flying through the outer wall of the ruined building, bringing the remains down on top of him.

While under the ruble the only thing that crosses my mind is the fact that I was able to trigger my invulnerability power at the last instant before impact with the ground. It’s a good thing I mastered how to switch between my powers, but it doesn’t seem to matter to much being that this creature prove to be strong enough to bypass my ability.

I spit good amount of blood from my mouth, it has been some time since I seen my own blood. That was one hell of a blow it dished out on me. I can’t believe I had let my guard down to the point it got a chance to make the first move. That was stupid of me. How could I be so weak? That hulk of a monster is going to pay for what it did. Wait I have to calm down my anger is beginning to take control again and I can’t let that happen not for a situation like this.

Icon leaves his feet, taking off toward the hulking creature, however the monster beats him to the punch, knocking him into the ground.

Icon rolls to his feet and hits the attacker with a left hand that has little effect. Instead of falling to the ground as Icon had anticipated, the creature looks to Icon, cracks his neck and returns the favor, hitting the hero with a right hand that knocks him back several paces. The attacker then grabs Icon by the cape, slamming him into the ground in the same manner that he had done to Youngster, then hurls Icon through a telephone pole, snapping it in half.

As I try to get a grip on my anger I feel it deep down boiling about to erupt and it’s getting to the point where I feel that I can’t contain it. It feels as the more I fight with my self I lose control and I just can’t let that happen I have to make… I have to make sure that creature pays with its life.

Now that I’m done with my inter struggle I use my arms along with my legs and toss the debris off of me with hostility. I then stand up on my feet now free from being buried alive. Right away I see Icon trying to go blow to with this new adversary, he doesn’t seem to be doing so well.

Stunned, Icon looks up to see his attacker closing in on him, ready to press the attack.

I dirt off in Icon’s direction with so much speed that the wreckage behind got blown back by the force. As the monster closes in on Icon I reach him before it can lay a single blow. Once in front of the thing responsible for taking so many lives I unleash some furious punches. I send out powerful left and right blows while still running pushing the creature backward with sheer force alone as it still stands stationary receiving each and every one of the hits. I finally come to a stop as my last blow knocks the monster back against a building.

I take this time to catch my breath knowing that I delivered some serious damage to it. I look up to see just how much harm I did and to my surprise I did nothing. It stood in the same position when I started punching it.

“Impossible!” I know for a fact it should be feeling the affects of my assault.

During that whole time I did that attack it kept its focus on Icon but after I spoke it finally acknowledge me.

It lets out a slight growl “Your battle aura gives off the sense of animosity. Each one of your blows is meant to end your foes life. You almost have the aura of a Zarrtonian warrior, if I didn’t know any better I would believe you are the one I seek. But your infant strikes tell me other wise. I thought the first attack on you would have ended your life but it seems that I underestimated you. A mistake I shall not make twice.”

It then clasps both of its hands together so its fingers are intertwined tightly and form a dual fist. It swings its balled hands down from above at me as if it’s swinging an axe. I place both of my arms up to block the attack. Once its attack made contact with my defensive method the force of the blow is so strong I feel the ground beneath my feet collapse. As much as I wanted to stand I couldn’t as the force was to much for my body to have handle and my legs give out on me and I fall to the ground.

The destructive force of the attack created a 2 mile radius crated with me lying in the middle. It then grabs me by the neck lifting me so we are eye level.

“You are still alive, barely. The next blow will be your last for nothing can stand up against the devastating strength of the Destroyer!”

It then releases its grip from the throat and before my body could even begin the falling motion it hits me with overwhelming right blow that felt like it caved my chest in.

The force of the blow sent me soaring through the air. His punch packs so much power even when I finally hit the ground my body skips across the surface as if I was a rock and someone skipping me across a body of water.

Once I finally come to a stop I try to get to my feet but at first it seems like even that simple feat is impossible. After a moment my powers begin to kick in but it takes its time, being that I took in a lot of damage. Starting off I’m able to get to my knees and as I do so I begin to cough up blood. I start spiting up so much I believe it’s not going to stop but of course it does.

This Destroyer as he calls himself is lucky I can not release my true form or I would kill him now where he stands.

He then begins to make his way in my direction ready to complete his job but I won’t give him the satisfaction.

​

 

[wiegeabo]

Then

"So, why am I here again?"

The Fatman leans back in his chair. "As long as you have that gland in your head, you're going to be working for me, Mr. Cole."

"Is that right. Who are you? I've been wondering that from the start? CIA?"

The Director smiles. "No, not exactly."

"NSA?"

He points up to the seal on the wall behind him.

"Department of..." I roll my eyes, not believing what I'm seeing. "Department of Fish & Game?!"

"The Department of Fish & Game is a very important branch of the government tasked with preserving our natural resources."

"Fish & Game paid for the gland in my head."

"No, they're just our landlords. CIA had a deficit last year. Fish & Game had a surplus. We go where the money is."

"Unbelievable." I lean back in my own chair and cross my legs nonchalantly. "So, if I decide not to work for...Fish & Game...what's to stop me from, oh, I don't know, going invisible, running off, and finding a doctor to take the damn thing out?"

"The fact that, if the gland is removed, you'll die."

I lean forward. "Say that again."

"We...don't know how to safely remove the gland."

"...say that again."

"Cole-"

"No! You say that again. Because there's no way my brother would have put this thing in my head if he couldn't get it out again."

"He did."

I blow air out between my lips. "Whew. Ok. So...you just haven't figured out his notes yet, or something? Maybe I can help...?"

"He had notes, but they were destroyed in the attack. You're brother made sure that whoever was trying to steal the Project wouldn't get the data."

"What about backups?"

"To risky. This was a beyond top secret project, after all."

"So what does that mean?"

"The only one who knew how to remove the gland was your brother."

"And he's dead."

"Exactly."

I nod as my eyes drift off. Then I pick up the chair and fling it through the air, smashing it against the wall.

"GODDAMN IT!!!"

"Calm down, Darren."

"SCREW YOU!"

The Director stands up and slams his hands on his desk. "Calm down RIGHT NOW!!!"

We glare at each other until my rage finally passes. The Director sits down and starts glancing over paper work as if nothing happened.

"That chair will come out of your paycheck."

Cheap bastard. "Whatever."

"Go see the Doctor. She wants to give you a checkup. Then come back to see me. I'm going to introduce you to your new partner."

"Fantastic." I stomp out the door and slam it behind me. First chance I get, I'm getting out of here.

***

Now

I really need to get out of here.

"This is so boring." I put down the binoculars and rub my eyes in frustration.

"No one said that government work was supposed to be exciting, buddy boy."

"What about all the movies that say exactly that."

"Just movies, my friend. Hollywood has no idea what makes a good agent, or what intelligence is really like."

"Boring?"

"Hard work. That's what this country was built on. A lot of dedicated, patriotic people doing a lot of hard work. Just like me."

"...Forget to take your lithium today."

"No, why?"

I shake my head. "No reason. Maybe they need to up your dose, is all..."

"What was that?"

"Hmm, what?"

"What?"

"What?"

"...What?"

I shake my head again and look through the binoculars at the building. But a second later, I toss them on the dashboard and rub my eyes.

"Hey, careful with those. They're expensive. Took three months to requisition these from the Fat Man."

"Yeah, sorry. My head's just killing me."

"Headache's are getting worse."

"Yeah."

"Maybe it's a tumor."

"It's not a-! Funny thing to say to a guy with an extra gland in his head."

Hobbes reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a bottle of aspirin. He tosses it to me, and I grab it gratefully. I toss back a few dry, giving them a quick chew so they'll work faster.

"First mission and you're already falling apart."

"Ha ha. I thought this guy was supposed to be gone by now."

"That's his routine. Leaves his apartment and goes out to eat at 5:15 every night."

"It's five after six."

"Exactly."

I look at him confused. "Exactly what? What does that mean?"

"Means something has changed his routine. Means something is going down."

I suddenly sit up and look out the van's window. "You mean...you mean he's going to meet his buyer now?"

"Sure feels that way. Speak of the devil." The man we're looking for finally walks out of the hotel. As always, he's dressed sharply, wearing sunglasses even though it's getting dark.

"He doesn't look like a terrorist."

"What's a terrorist supposed to look like?"

"I don't know, I've never done business with one."

"Well, they look just like that. Just like everybody else."

"And we're sure this guy is who we want?"

"Oh yeah. We're going to use him to get the big dog. Catch us a high profile terrorist weapons supplier, and put The Agency on the map."

"The secret agency we don't want anyone to know about."

"That's the one."

I laugh, wondering how the hell I got stuck with these people. Oh yeah, a life sentence. Nietzsche said what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Maybe I should run for governor of California.

"Ok, Cole. Time to do your thing."

"My thing."

"Go see-through, get in his place, and find us the evidence we need."

"No problem." I get out of the car.

"Cole!"

"Yeah?"

"Ten minutes. Then I come up to get you."

"Ten minutes. What could go wrong?"

I walk up to the front of the apartment building, lowering my sunglasses to peak around and see if anyone is looking at me. Satisfied, I smash my hand against the buzzers.

"Yeah?" about ten voices say.

"Pizza."

I wait a second, and then someone buzzes me in through the door. Smiling, I walk inside and put my glasses inside my jacket. I take the stairs up a floor and walk down the hallway like I belong there. I pass a couple of people along the way, making sure not to smile or make eye contact. That would look suspicous.

Turning the corner, I walk down a couple of doors until I find the number I'm looking for. Whistling softly to myself, I reach into my jacket and pull out my trusty kit. Looking both ways down the hall, I slide my tools in and start picking the locks.

And that's when I hear the footsteps.

Work the lock, don't look down the hall. Work the lock, don't look down the hall. Work the lock.-

I look down the hall.

Work the damn lock!

CLICK

Smiling to myself, I quickly open the door and slip inside, closing it silently behind me. I relock the door and breath a sigh of relief. Until I hear a key slide into the lock.

"Oh crap." I concentrate, but nothing happens. The deadbolt turns.

"Oh crap!" I jump into the bedroom just as the door opens. I hear two voices in the main room as the door closes behind them.

"You better have the device."

"I do. Follow me." The footsteps approach the bedroom.

Oh crap!!!

I concentrate again, and this time I feel the familiar cold warmth over my skin. The two men step into the room, completely oblivious to my presence.

"It's here in the closet." I'm forced to step into the bathroom to avoid our terrorist from bumping into me. I still can't believe he's here. But I know that Hawkes won't be far behind. Once he saw our guy walk back inside, he had to know something was up.

I watch from the other side of the bathroom door as the terrorist pulls a case out of the top of the closet, and sets it on the bed. His contact steps up next to him as he opens it. I stretch my neck to try and see what's in the case...

And the back of my head explodes in pain.

"AAAHHHHGGHH!!!" I fall back, accidentally slamming the door closed. I fall to the floor, clutching the back of my head as if a hot poker was being pounded into my skull.

And as quickly as it started, the pain is gone. Breathing heavily, I use the sink to pull myself up. And then I make the mistake of glancing in the mirror.

Spoiler

"Oh...crap..."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

While under the ruble the only thing that crosses my mind is the fact that I was able to trigger my invulnerability power at the last instant before impact with the ground. It’s a good thing I mastered how to switch between my powers, but it doesn’t seem to matter to much being that this creature prove to be strong enough to bypass my ability.

I spit good amount of blood from my mouth, it has been some time since I seen my own blood. That was one hell of a blow it dished out on me. I can’t believe I had let my guard down to the point it got a chance to make the first move. That was stupid of me. How could I be so weak? That hulk of a monster is going to pay for what it did. Wait I have to calm down my anger is beginning to take control again and I can’t let that happen not for a situation like this.



As I try to get a grip on my anger I feel it deep down boiling about to erupt and it’s getting to the point where I feel that I can’t contain it. It feels as the more I fight with my self I lose control and I just can’t let that happen I have to make… I have to make sure that creature pays with its life.

Now that I’m done with my inter struggle I use my arms along with my legs and toss the debris off of me with hostility. I then stand up on my feet now free from being buried alive. Right away I see Icon trying to go blow to with this new adversary, he doesn’t seem to be doing so well.



I dirt off in Icon’s direction with so much speed that the wreckage behind got blown back by the force. As the monster closes in on Icon I reach him before it can lay a single blow. Once in front of the thing responsible for taking so many lives I unleash some furious punches. I send out powerful left and right blows while still running pushing the creature backward with sheer force alone as it still stands stationary receiving each and every one of the hits. I finally come to a stop as my last blow knocks the monster back against a building.

I take this time to catch my breath knowing that I delivered some serious damage to it. I look up to see just how much harm I did and to my surprise I did nothing. It stood in the same position when I started punching it.

“Impossible!” I know for a fact it should be feeling the affects of my assault.

During that whole time I did that attack it kept its focus on Icon but after I spoke it finally acknowledge me.

It lets out a slight growl “Your battle aura gives off the sense of animosity. Each one of your blows is meant to end your foes life. You almost have the aura of a Zarrtonian warrior, if I didn’t know any better I would believe you are the one I seek. But your infant strikes tell me other wise. I thought the first attack on you would have ended your life but it seems that I underestimated you. A mistake I shall not make twice.”

It then clasps both of its hands together so its fingers are intertwined tightly and form a dual fist. It swings its balled hands down from above at me as if it’s swinging an axe. I place both of my arms up to block the attack. Once its attack made contact with my defensive method the force of the blow is so strong I feel the ground beneath my feet collapse. As much as I wanted to stand I couldn’t as the force was to much for my body to have handle and my legs give out on me and I fall to the ground.

The destructive force of the attack created a 2 mile radius crated with me lying in the middle. It then grabs me by the neck lifting me so we are eye level.

“You are still alive, barely. The next blow will be your last for nothing can stand up against the devastating strength of the Destroyer!”

It then releases its grip from the throat and before my body could even begin the falling motion it hits me with overwhelming right blow that felt like it caved my chest in.

The force of the blow sent me soaring through the air. His punch packs so much power even when I finally hit the ground my body skips across the surface as if I was a rock and someone skipping me across a body of water.

Once I finally come to a stop I try to get to my feet but at first it seems like even that simple feat is impossible. After a moment my powers begin to kick in but it takes its time, being that I took in a lot of damage. Starting off I’m able to get to my knees and as I do so I begin to cough up blood. I start spiting up so much I believe it’s not going to stop but of course it does.

This Destroyer as he calls himself is lucky I can not release my true form or I would kill him now where he stands.

He then begins to make his way in my direction ready to complete his job but I won’t give him the satisfaction.

Icon picks himself up off the ground, still somewhat stunned by the attack by the behemoth. He looks around for a moment before he sees the attacker, "Destroyer" he heard it call itself, closing in on the prone body of The Youngster.

Destroyer grabs The Youngster and picks him up, one handed by the neck. He rears his other fist back, about to deliver a devestating blow to the young hero.

Icon hurls himself at the Destroyer, slamming into the monster with the force of a freight train. The force of the impact causes the Destroyer to drop the Youngster, sending him several yards away. The Destroyer is knocked off his feet, and the look of surprise on his face tells Icon that whoever Destroyer is, he isn't used to coming up against beings that are capable of fighting back.

"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?"

“Yes." Destroyer says as he gets to his feet, rushing toward Icon.

 

[Hound55]

Private Residence - Undisclosed Location

Isaac wakes sharply in the mid-morning, bare feet pace across carpet as he immediately makes for the bathroom. In the mirror he can see that his chin is covered in a moderate dark fuzz... and after inspection he notes that his tongue is too, he winces with displeasure as the bitter taste of last night's ale lingers. A swig of Listerine and some precise strokes with a toothbrush and razor rectifies both problems. Quick simple solution.

As it always is the complexity of the solution defines the complexity of the problem. Whether that is right or not, since sometimes the solution is far simpler than we realise. Sometimes all it takes is a different perspective and all of the complexity behind the solution is of our own making...

Editorial on your Morning News - Intermission One-Shot

Isaac left the en suite bathroom and pulled a business suit from his wardrobe and lay it across his untouched bed, further evidence of his sleeping in the chair again. Isaac had begun to find new routine in his home-away-from-home, every morning he'd get up in one of these smallish (or one of two larger) properties, put on office attire and go out to a central newsagent to pick up his papers. Most would consider the dress unnecessary, but Isaac felt it best allowed him to keep his ties to his other life. He remained somewhat fearful of the prospect of one day going to put on a suit and tie and the strangeness of it all enveloping him and showing him for what he feared he really was - incompetent and unqualified to step into the world his father laid out for him. The life he needed to have to retain some shred of normalcy.

Isaac left for the papers, and since his selected vendor was in the heart of the city it took about an hour before the car once again crawled up the driveway containing Isaac and the news times four.

He came in through the garage and lay his keys and the newspapers on the kitchen table and began to make his own breakfast. Oil in the pan followed by eggs and bacon. Isaac held the handle of the pan the entire time, using a spatula to turn them. Toast popped in the corner of the kitchen and he dumped the lot onto a plate, his hands and forearms speckled with signs of oil burns. He carries the plate over to the kitchen table and settles down with the papers.

The job of keeping abreast of news in both his homes was considerably easier in Cooktown than it was in the Haven. The small size of his home town meant that purchase of the Cooktown Wire would have to be specially subscribed to when in the much larger Lost Haven, whilst copies of the Lost Haven Globe could be purchased without need for special order in some of the larger newsagents. Of course he could always check their online sites… but he spurned this option; “The small articles that you find deeper in the newspapers seldom get uploaded. Most of the time, they’re the real points of interest in our line of work… not easily digestible, soundbite-style news which tended to make the front page headlines..” Besides, holding the paper, breathing the newsprint and having it as a tangible presence appealed to him.

Isaac picked up the top paper from the stack, the Grenville Tribune, and put it to the side for later. Grenville, as a larger central Metropolis, was also of some interest to Isaac, but the main reasons behind getting the Tribune was for its business section, which was extremely detailed, and to gain some outside perspective on the happenings in Cooktown itself. He was considerably more interested in the Times, the main National paper in Terraria, the Cooktown Wire and the Lost Haven Globe.

Bi-monthly Figures in – Crime At All-time Low: Premier says ‘Trust in me’
Darryl Grace and Richard Whitehead
Latest Government statistics have revealed record lows in key crime statistics such as violent crime and organised crime. Premier Keane, making a public statement yesterday, attributed it to increased police presence over the past 12 months as was one of his strongest election policies in the previous election 3 years ago.
“Once again we see the inimitable influence of a solid police presence. We previously promised to get more police officers out on the streets to chisel away at what has been a veritable crime epidemic, and over the past 10 years we’ve seen crime generally whittled down to only 30% of what it was.” Keane, 34, was quoted as saying. “If Cooktown hopes to keep its foot down on crime, the choice should be clear come election time.” Referring to the impending election for premier but refusing to speculate when the date would be set.
Continued page 5

“Huh, fatheaded blowhard…” Isaac thought to himself, flicking through to page 5.

Crime At All-time Low: Premier says ‘Trust in me’
Darryl Grace and Richard Whitehead
Continued from page 1

The Premier received questions from many members of the press, including the Wire’s own Richard Whitehead, many of which were down a tangent very familiar to Premier Keane; that of Cooktown’s own self-proclaimed Vigilante. “The aim is to have Cooktown’s Vigilante predicament solved in the following term. He’s a danger to himself and the general public with his negligent antics. But despite our target, this administration already seems to be having an effect on the problem. Sightings have been down in recent months and from what I have heard there have been none at all in the past week. Now while I hate to speculate, I will suggest that in all likelihood the Vigilante is either laying low like all of the other criminals due to the increased police presence or even better, he’s found himself to be obsolete due to the great efficiency of the Cooktown police department.” ...

Isaac stopped reading. He’d read enough and had just generally had enough of Keane altogether. He was well aware of the “increase of police officers” through Cooktown… They’d recruited more and transferred many from overseas police agencies as well with lucrative offers… problem was he’d simultaneously been laying off regular office employees and more of these “police officers” were required to spend their days in the station filing mountains of paperwork. In short, the statistics were being fudged at their expense. Total police officer numbers were high but the “police presence” was as low as ever and completely inefficient because they were doing office work that could have been more cheaply handled by public servants. Typical politician.

Isaac continued to flick through the Wire.

Two stabbed in Light Bay
A pair of teenagers are in hospital after being found in critical condition due to multiple stab wounds and severe bruising under the pier at Light Bay. Police have not ruled out local gangs and are still investigating locals after questioning small businesses in the neighbourhood. Colin W, 15, and Heather F, 16, are now in steady condition at Seaview Medical Centre. Their surnames are being withheld for their own protection. If you know anything about this incident, please contact CrimeWatchers on 22 500, any information appreciated and may result in small monetary reward if it results in a conviction.

This isn’t any of the big 3… Regionals are stepping up. They’ve recognised the power vacuum. And the big three are going to want to make a point of making their presence known… Isaac winced with displeasure. This one article wasn’t enough to support these thoughts, but this article had been one of many down a similar line lately. Isaac couldn’t afford to go just yet though; he was finally making a positive impact publically on the Haven’s crime rate. Sure, it wasn’t single handed, but he had more freedom to operate in many ways and he wanted to show just what he was capable of accomplishing when he had complete compliance from police by finding this serial killer and putting a stop to his spree.

Isaac flicked through a few more of the smaller articles in the Wire before picking up the Times. He turned the front page and after reading a headline on page 3 he quickly put down the Times and tried his luck with the Lost Haven Globe.

“Hatch Impressed by Keane’s Crime Model, Plans to Test Viability in Grenville” was NOT what he was in the mood to be reading about…

Promises of “Youngster, Archangel BIG News Within!” beckoned from a corner of the front page, directing any interested party to a special celebrity insert. This was one thing Isaac had trouble with, but fortunately other than a single incident involving a public speech in a school hall he hadn’t had to bother too much with himself. He had trouble understanding the half-Government Police force/half-celebrity status that had come with the creation of the Guardians. He considered himself a headbanger, but hardly a rockstar…

Flicking through the bulk of the paper to get to the inserts he went too far and had to flick back, sliding the Guardians/Entertainment section out and reading it from back to front, flicking past most of the Entertainment section with speed but slowing down as he got closer to the more relevant Guardians section. "How in the hell did it come to this in the first place?" He thought to himself. Flicking back through he came to a full page spread.

Youngster doesn't recognise Icon

[BLACKOUT]"Hahaha... stupid tabloid drivel..."[/BLACKOUT] Then after a few seconds he thought about it... Hmm, kids still young and raw... He's not gonna take this thing seriously is he? Isaac made a mental note of it and kept flipping through.

Archangel Leaves The Guardians

Mind blown.

Isaac stares off beyond the paper for a few seconds before his eyes fall back upon the paper. He moves his thumb so he can read from the edge of the page. Then pausing for a second he looks at his thumb and then his entire hand.

It hasn't been that long since he last saw Michael and already his hands are becoming gnarled again as if his fists are made of twisted old wood. He thinks back to before the invasion, back to the days when his mitts could barely hold a pencil properly and his writing with his normal hand looked practically infantile. Isaac rose from his chair and left the room to check something. He opened his "other" fridge. His stocks were almost full with a healthy supply of healthful crimson in thick plastic bags. A single container stood out though; the green glass bottle in stark contrast with the clear plastic bags. He must have put it in the wrong fridge one night when he'd emptied too many green glass bottles like this one.

Not wanting to make the trek to the kitchen fridge he decided to fix his problem on the spot. His churning stomach called out for it but Isaac couldn't hear it. It didn't matter. Twisting the lid off with his bare hand and downing half of the bottle with the one hit, it was satisfied regardless.

If Michael had to go at least Isaac was ready. His other properties were all similarly stocked. The Not-an-Angel would be greatly missed, but at least the symbol had come back to the group... And as important as Michael was, Isaac believed him to be less vital than the representation of the people's trust.

So why did it bother him so much?

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Marcus Ryder, the man who other members of STRIKE have taken to calling "Anderson's Heel" due to his tendancy of stepping down upon the enemies of the Director; both Meta and human...and grinding them to dust, reviews the dossier file which contains the briefing for tonight's mission.

Stephen Stone, a small time hood with no real direction in his life. He doesn't pose much of a threat to society as a whole. However his sole ambition in life seems to be to be a nuisance to society, using his telepathic abilities to con people out of their possessions. Nothing as cruel as swindling people out of their life savings, but small sums of money and prized possessions are all fair game.

Stone is not the type of criminal that would normally even register as a blip on STRIKE's radar, however times have changed. Director Anderson has taken a hardline approach to metas, and any meta doing things outside of the law, no matter how minor, now draws their attention.

If Ryder had it his way, he would take Stone out in the alley and put a bullet in his head. However, Stone possesses certain talents that might be usefull to STRIKE.

So a simple snatch and dash.

The black Escalade pulls up to the corner near Stone's apartment building; and ryder gets out along with two other agents, Santana and Taylor, and the three of them head to the front entrance of Stone's building.

The three agents take the back stairwell up five flights of stairs, hoping to avoid having too many people see them as they approach their target. Finally, they reach the fith floor and walk down the corridor to Stone's apartment, number 508. When they arrive in front of their target's door, Ryder bangs on the door, in much the same manner that a police officer would while engaging in a bust.

It takes a few moments, but finally the door opens. Standing in front of the three agents is not your stereotypical menace to society. Instead appearing from behind the door is a rather unassuming young man, several pounds underweight with shaggy brown hair and a five o'clock shadow.

"Yeah? Whattayawant?"

"Stephen Stone?"

"Yeah?" The young man says, suddenly nervous.

Ryder doesn't give him the chance to run. Instead he produces a small syringe and plunges it into Stone's jugular. Stone immediately collapses to the ground, and the three agents quickly step inside the apartment closing the door behind them, to prevent any passers by from seeing what is happening.

Once inside the apartment, Ryder gets on his secure cell phone and dials the direct number to Anderson's office phone.

"Alex, we have the package. Delivery in 25."

Several days later....

Stephen Stone does not know where he is, or how long he's been there. All he knows is that he's cold, scared, and in a lot of pain. Everything from the moment he was taken from his apartment is a blur, he remembers being loaded into the back of a van and being beaten repeatedly. They kept asking him questions that he didn't know the answer to, and they beat him more for it. He doesn't even remember what the questions were now...he just knows that he is not looking forward to the men coming back to ask again.

When he first arrived to wherever it is that he is now, he was blindfolded and gagged. Then someone came in and measured him from head to toe, and front to back. He didn't understand what was happening until the others came in...Several men came into the room in which he was being held and began building a customized "coffin cell" around him. This cell was build around him, giving him only about an inch of clearance between the "cell's" ceiling, and his head, as well as an inch on either side of him...and he was forced to stand in this hellish contraption ever since.

Suddenly, he hears a door open and several heavy footsteps come toward him, and his heart nearly seizes when the footsteps stop in front of his cell, and he can hear muffled voices outside.

"This is the one Director Anderson."

"Very good, Cooke, open the head plate."

With that, the small window that slides over the face of the "coffin cell" opens, and Stone is blinded by a bright white light shone directly into his face.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Stone. I understand that you've been rather uncooperative with our investigators. So I am going to give you one more chance..."

"I dunno nuthin'! Let me go, I really don't know what you want!"

"Pity. Cooke, take Mr. Stone to the Professor, perhaps we can still make use of Mr. Stone's...abilities."

Cooke nods and slides the head plate closed. He motions for the guards to help him, and they dome over and lift Stone's cell, taking him out of the holding area toward the laboratory of "The Professor," and as they move out of sight, the only thing that can be heard are Stone's screams as he pleads for mercy.

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Icon picks himself up off the ground, still somewhat stunned by the attack by the behemoth. He looks around for a moment before he sees the attacker, "Destroyer" he heard it call itself, closing in on the prone body of The Youngster.

Destroyer grabs The Youngster and picks him up, one handed by the neck. He rears his other fist back, about to deliver a devestating blow to the young hero.

Icon hurls himself at the Destroyer, slamming into the monster with the force of a freight train. The force of the impact causes the Destroyer to drop the Youngster, sending him several yards away. The Destroyer is knocked off his feet, and the look of surprise on his face tells Icon that whoever Destroyer is, he isn't used to coming up against beings that are capable of fighting back.

"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?"

“Yes." Destroyer says as he gets to his feet, rushing toward Icon.

While on the ground I take my time getting myself together. I turn on my back and look at the sun as it shines down on me. It’s a shame I’m not like Superman who gets his powers from the sun lord knows that would be nice right about now.

I turn my head to the right and see Destroyer and Icon engaged in battle. Look at him fighting as if he is Earth’s only hero. I just don’t get it how they can embrace him? I was here for all of them when he abandoned them all and they treated me as if I was not worthy of being mentioned in the same sentence as him. I must prove to them I can be their hero. I must prove I can be a better hero than him. I have to get up and continue fighting.

I turn slowly on my stomach and I use every bit of strength I have to just get on all fours.“Come one body we can do this, I know you have a little more left in you we can do this.” As I try to give my self confidence it begins to work as I struggle to my feet. While standing straight up I take give my self a breather because I know if I get hit by one punch I will be done for sure.

I ball my fist and as I do so I can feel the blood on my palm running down my hand. I look down and see my hands are pretty beat up from having impact with that titan of a monster. Doesn’t matter though even if he my punches doesn’t effect him I won’t give up. I then dirt off to Icon’s side.

“We are going to have to attack him as a team.” I tell Icon as I get by his side as him and Destroyer just broke up from a fist encounter.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

While on the ground I take my time getting myself together. I turn on my back and look at the sun as it shines down on me. It’s a shame I’m not like Superman who gets his powers from the sun lord knows that would be nice right about now.

I turn my head to the right and see Destroyer and Icon engaged in battle. Look at him fighting as if he is Earth’s only hero. I just don’t get it how they can embrace him? I was here for all of them when he abandoned them all and they treated me as if I was not worthy of being mentioned in the same sentence as him. I must prove to them I can be their hero. I must prove I can be a better hero than him. I have to get up and continue fighting.

I turn slowly on my stomach and I use every bit of strength I have to just get on all fours.“Come one body we can do this, I know you have a little more left in you we can do this.” As I try to give my self confidence it begins to work as I struggle to my feet. While standing straight up I take give my self a breather because I know if I get hit by one punch I will be done for sure.

I ball my fist and as I do so I can feel the blood on my palm running down my hand. I look down and see my hands are pretty beat up from having impact with that titan of a monster. Doesn’t matter though even if he my punches doesn’t effect him I won’t give up. I then dirt off to Icon’s side.

“We are going to have to attack him as a team.” I tell Icon as I get by his side as him and Destroyer just broke up from a fist encounter.

"Sounds like a plan to me, let's take him down."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

He has been watching his target for several weeks, following him as he does the little things...goes to the store, to the gym...taking his girl out on a night on the town. In order to be a successful hunter, one has to know his prey....and he is not only a successful hunter, he is the best.

He has been tasked with hunting the man known as Shadow Walker, to take him down and end his harrassment of a very well paying customer...and That man, Midas is beginning to grow weary of all the waiting. However, as he explained to his employer...he has his routines in place for a reason.

Shadow Walker has caused Midas a great deal of pain over the past year...pain that Midas wants redistributed to his tormentor. Midas did not hire him just to kill Shadow Walker, he hired him to utterly destroy him.

To break him.

And that is what he plans to do. He will bring Shadow Walker to the breaking point, and when he looks his prey in the eyes, Shadow Walker will beg for death...and he will be obliged.

His name is Arion, the greatest assassin that ever lived...and soon, it will be time for him to strike.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

While on the ground I take my time getting myself together. I turn on my back and look at the sun as it shines down on me. It’s a shame I’m not like Superman who gets his powers from the sun lord knows that would be nice right about now.

I turn my head to the right and see Destroyer and Icon engaged in battle. Look at him fighting as if he is Earth’s only hero. I just don’t get it how they can embrace him? I was here for all of them when he abandoned them all and they treated me as if I was not worthy of being mentioned in the same sentence as him. I must prove to them I can be their hero. I must prove I can be a better hero than him. I have to get up and continue fighting.

I turn slowly on my stomach and I use every bit of strength I have to just get on all fours.“Come one body we can do this, I know you have a little more left in you we can do this.” As I try to give my self confidence it begins to work as I struggle to my feet. While standing straight up I take give my self a breather because I know if I get hit by one punch I will be done for sure.

I ball my fist and as I do so I can feel the blood on my palm running down my hand. I look down and see my hands are pretty beat up from having impact with that titan of a monster. Doesn’t matter though even if he my punches doesn’t effect him I won’t give up. I then dirt off to Icon’s side.

“We are going to have to attack him as a team.” I tell Icon as I get by his side as him and Destroyer just broke up from a fist encounter.

"Sounds like a plan to me, let's take him down."

Icon and the Youngster move in on the Destroyer, Youngster using his speed to run circles around their foe, hitting him with a flurry of punches and kicks as he circles the marauder at nearly the speed of light.

As Youngster presses his attack, Icon rears back and throws several balls of concentrated kinetic energy from his fists which in concert with the Youngster's attack, staggers Destroyer. Icon moves in to press his attack, however, as Youngster continues to circle the titan, it reaches out and grabs the young hero by the arm and hurls him directly into Icon.

Icon and Youngster find themselves tangled together in a heap on the ground as the Destroyer moves in on them. The creature is on them before they are able to get to their feet. He grabs the Youngster by the throat and lifts him into the air, tossing him aside.

Icon gets to his feet, but Destroyer meets him with a thunderous right hand that sends Icon reeling back, then follows up with another...and another. Destroyer continues pounding on Icon, driving the hero down to one knee. Destroyer raises his fist high into the air, preparing to deliver a killing stroke. He lets out a primal roar and drives his fist down.

However, Icon catches the fist in his hand. He squeezes as he rises to his feet and looks Destroyer straight in the eyes.

"My turn." Icon says as he drives a fist into Destroyer's jaw, spraying blood and shattered teeth from the titan's mouth.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Alexander Anderson stands before the massive picture window behind his desk, staring out over the city of Lost Haven. Since relocating the headquarters of S.T.R.I.K.E. from Washington, the organization has made much progress in it's fight against the threat posed by the superhuman community.

His desk buzzer goes off, indicating that he has a visitor. He moves away from the window, over to his desk and speaks into the intercom.

"Yes, Ms. Powers?"

"Professor Jacobs is here to see you, Director." responds the voice of Anderson's lovely assistant.

"Very well, send him in."

The large oak doors to his office open, and in walks the frail form of Professor Dale Jacobs, the leading authority on robotics and cybernetic enhancement in the entire world, and the man responsible for much of S.T.R.I.K.E.'s advanced weaponry.

"You have news for me, Professor?"

"Indeed Director Anderson. The first line of the new cybernetic Shocktroopers have been completed and have passed preliminary combat testing in our facility. We are also beginning production on the unmanned Hunter/Killer drones that you inquired about. The first wave of those should be ready within the week."

A smile crosses Anderson's face, if what the good professor is saying is true, soon S.T.R.I.K.E. will have an army of highly advanced and completely obedient soldiers capable of eliminating the threat posed by the metahumans of the world.

"Very good, Professor. I trust you can show yourself out." he says, to which Professor Jacobs merely nods and takes his leave of the Director.

Anderson goes back over to his desk, this time sitting in the plush leather chair and watching the professor make his way away from the administrative offices. Once Professor Jacobs is gone, and there are no other perople around who may over hear something that they ought not over hear, he presses the intercom switch on his desk, calling again to Ms Powers.

"Ms Powers, please get in touch with Ryder, I need to speak to him immediately."

"Right away Director. Is there a message you would like me to give him?"

"Yes, tell him that we are almost ready to initiate Operation Reckoning."

 

[wiegeabo]

I walk up to the front of the apartment building, lowering my sunglasses to peak around and see if anyone is looking at me. Satisfied, I smash my hand against the buzzers.

"Yeah?" about ten voices say.

"Pizza."

I wait a second, and then someone buzzes me in through the door. Smiling, I walk inside and put my glasses inside my jacket. I take the stairs up a floor and walk down the hallway like I belong there. I pass a couple of people along the way, making sure not to smile or make eye contact. That would look suspicous.

Turning the corner, I walk down a couple of doors until I find the number I'm looking for. Whistling softly to myself, I reach into my jacket and pull out my trusty kit. Looking both ways down the hall, I slide my tools in and start picking the locks.

And that's when I hear the footsteps.

Work the lock, don't look down the hall. Work the lock, don't look down the hall. Work the lock.-

I look down the hall.

Work the damn lock!

CLICK

Smiling to myself, I quickly open the door and slip inside, closing it silently behind me. I relock the door and breath a sigh of relief. Until I hear a key slide into the lock.

"Oh crap." I concentrate, but nothing happens. The deadbolt turns.

"Oh crap!" I jump into the bedroom just as the door opens. I hear two voices in the main room as the door closes behind them.

"You better have the device."

"I do. Follow me." The footsteps approach the bedroom.

Oh crap!!!

I concentrate again, and this time I feel the familiar cold warmth over my skin. The two men step into the room, completely oblivious to my presence.

"It's here in the closet." I'm forced to step into the bathroom to avoid our terrorist from bumping into me. I still can't believe he's here. But I know that Hawkes won't be far behind. Once he saw our guy walk back inside, he had to know something was up.

I watch from the other side of the bathroom door as the terrorist pulls a case out of the top of the closet, and sets it on the bed. His contact steps up next to him as he opens it. I stretch my neck to try and see what's in the case...

And the back of my head explodes in pain.

"AAAHHHHGGHH!!!" I fall back, accidentally slamming the door closed. I fall to the floor, clutching the back of my head as if a hot poker was being pounded into my skull.

And as quickly as it started, the pain is gone. Breathing heavily, I use the sink to pull myself up. And then I make the mistake of glancing in the mirror.

Spoiler

"Oh...crap..."

The bathroom door explodes inwards as the terrorist Hawkes and I were tracking kicks it in.

"WHO THE **** ARE YOU?! WHAT THE **** ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!"

"What's going on?" his associate demands, sticking his head into the bathroom. "Is this a setup?!"

"No, it's not a damned setup! I don't know who this bastard is. But I'm about to find out. Stand up. Slowly."

Staring right down the barrel of the his gun, I do what he says. But as I do it, I realize something. I'm not afraid. Not one bit. In fact...I feel pretty damn good. Really damn good. This is...this is one hell of a rush!

I stare the terrorist right in the eyes. "I'm not going to tell you anything."

The anger in his face is almost delicious. "I'll blow your damned head off if you don't tell me who you are and who you're working for."

I grin and lean forward as if about to tell some big secret. "No."

I'm pretty sure the guy almost pulled the trigger right there. And I've never felt so alive. "I'm not playing around. Talk, or your brains end up on the wall.

I take a step forward, and lean in, putting my forehead right against the barrel of his gun. "Go ahead."

"W-what?"

"You may not believe me, but you'd be doing me a favor."

He stares right into my eyes. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Shoot him!" the other man shouts.

That's when I jump. Knocking the terrorists arm to the side, I plow my forehead into his face. He staggers out of the bathroom, tripping over the bed. I rush out, noticing his friend reaching into his jacket pocket. Before he gets the chance to pull out whatever he's going for, I dive into him, slamming him against the wall.

"Two. On. One. Isn't. Fair!" With each word I slam his head into the wall. By the time I'm done, he slides down into a heap, leaving a hole in the wall.

I hear a click and turn around to face the bad guy. "You're crazy."

I tilt my head, looking into the distance for a second as realization hits. "You know what...?" I stare at him again. "I think you're right. It's very liberating."

"**** you."

He pulls the trigger, and I take the bullet in my shoulder. I just look at the bleeding wound. "It itches."

I rush the terrorist before he can get take aim. The shot misses completely as I grab his wrist, breaking it in my grip. Twisting, I drive my elbow into his nose and take the gun from him.

That's when I hear the door in the other room crash open. I quickly grab the terrorist, wrapping my arm around the neck, and hold him as a hostage as Hawkes turns the corner, gun trained on him, then me, then him, then back again.

"What the hell is this?"

"I have no idea. But it's great!" I say with a huge smile.

"What's up with your eyes, man?"

"He's crazy!"

"Shut up!" Hawkes' gun aims at the terrorist again, then back to me. "Let him go. We got him."

"Hmmm, ummm, hmmm, ummm, how about....no." I point my gun at Hawkes.

"What are you doing Cole," he says very slowly.

I shrug. "Having fun? Oh, right. You don't know what fun is. Silly me." Instead of pointing it at Hawkes, I decide to press the gun against the side of the terrorist's head.

"Shoot him!"

"SHUT UP!" we both say.

"Cole, as much as I'd like to put this scum down, we need him. He's got a lot of contacts."

I rock my head side to side. "Yeah...but he's a bad guy. And turning him is just so mundane. So I think I'm going to put him out of our misery."

"You pull that trigger and so do I."

I look at Hawkes intently. "Really? Wow. Well, why not just cut out the middle man?" I press the barrel of the gun against the side of my own head.

"Cole...think about this. What are you doing?"

"He's crazy. Kill him!"

Hawkes shoots the terrorist in the leg, and he falls to the floor in pain.

"Oh. Nice move." I quickly point my gun at Hawkes again.

"I will shoot you."

"Kinda figured that."

"Or..."

"Or?"

"We can put our guns down and settle this like men."

"Huh...I like that. On three?"

"Fine. One-"

"Wait, wait, wait. On three, or three then down?"

"...on three."

"Yeah, ok. Cool. One?" We stop aiming the guns at each other, holding the up instead.

"Two." We bring the guns down, holding them just off the table in his case, the bed in mine."

"Three." Hawkes puts his gun down. I quickly bring mine up and fire. But Hawkes hits the ground, reaches into his jacket, and hits me with a taser almost faster than I can see.

My body shakes and convulses, and I drop my gun, falling to my knees. When Hawkes stops frying me, I rock side to side in a daze.

"You cheated."

The world goes dark...

 

[sabetoonth]

[FONT=&quot]“Teacher? For what?”[/FONT][FONT=&quot] Elijah asked this strange old man.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Your future Elijah.”[/FONT] [FONT=&quot] He said before standing up. Elijah saw the world blur for a moment as they where again surrounded by people, nurses. Then there was only him. Elijah looked around bewildered.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Weird old man.”[/FONT][FONT=&quot] He murmured laying his head on the pillow before fading back to sleep.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Elijah walked out the doors, they’d call him when his blood work came back, nothing wrong with him that they didn’t already check and get results from. He almost caught a cab but someone stole it last minute by diving in.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“****er.”[/FONT][FONT=&quot] Eli said as the door closed. He walked down the street towards his apartment building, which was still a considerable walk from the hospital.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Hello Elijah.”[/FONT] [FONT=&quot] It was the old man again.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“What do you want?”[/FONT][FONT=&quot] he said gruffly.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“I want to show you something.”[/FONT] [FONT=&quot] He said leaning against the wall of the building black hook cane with a silver head in hand. [/FONT][FONT=&quot]“How much do you know about your father?”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Who are you, really?”[/FONT][FONT=&quot] Elijah said, this guy asks about his dad? He never knew jack **** about his dad, and to be honest he didn’t want to.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Elijah, if you want answers, to everything you’ve wondered about yourself, follow me.”[/FONT] [FONT=&quot] He sounded sincere, like he actually gave a damn, did he? Following him couldn’t hurt, could it? Elijah stood there thinking for what seemed like an eon. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“OK, where to?”[/FONT][FONT=&quot] the old man’s lips curled into a half smile. [/FONT][FONT=&quot]"But if this doesnt do anything for me I'm gone."[/FONT]

And so they started walking, Elijah looking to this stranger as he explained things very vaguely.

“Your father, was-is, an important part of everything Elijah.” The old man didn’t look at him, glancing off in every other direction.
“You see Elijah you are much more then a janitor. I knew him, before the mess that lead into the falling out between him and his family.”

“Where are we going.” Elijah asked as he listened to the story.

“I have…an abode here in Manhattan. Where was I?” He asked. Before Elijah could answer, “Oh yes, your father fell out with most of his family, very large family, some however sided with him and were given the same treatment, abandonment.” The Old man stopped at the cross walk. “They headed south afterward, far south. In fact your father is more like a twin to who I am speaking of now. A twin born of his own flesh, of his own power.”

“What are you talking about, none of this makes sense its so cryptic.” Elijah really wasn’t understanding what the hell this old man was saying. And then he stopped, the old man did.

“Here we are.” He said with a bit of cheer on his face. The building looked like it had been abandoned, or was were death went to take his coffee breaks. Elijah followed the old man inside, the doors were locked, Elijah’s new “teacher” revealed keys probably as old as their owner.

“You live here?”

“In my spare time.”

“Spare time?” The stranger didn’t say a word as he continued into the black building. They began going down, towards the basement. It seemed like the had been walked for a very long time when they came to the door. It was big, it was wood, a dark, maybe black wood there wasn’t a lot of light to see, but it felt damp and cold, like they where near a water-main or city water pipes.

“Why are we farther underground then an oil well?” Elijah asked. Turning around the Old man’s face was heavily shadowed, like a skeleton it looked.

“ Because, its warmer here.” He smiled and opened the large door, creaking greeted them as they passed into a room lit with an orange glow, a fire place.

The room was mostly in the same state as the hall they had just come from. However the hearth was finely polished and dry as a bone. The carpet on the floor before the fire was also dry, and looked like the carpet from Aladdin. Two arm chairs sat there as well, one green with a large back and the other a dark maroon color with a back not as high as the other. The host took a seat in the green chair, offering Elijah the other. Elijah politely refused the offer.

“What have you been going on about, its all so vague.”

“Elijah, in public I can not tell you, however, here in private.” He leaned back in the chair. “I can tell you that your father is Satan.”

Elijah laughed, he was the son of the devil? This guy must be joking.

“I'm sorry, but what was that? It sounded like you said I was the son of Satan?”

“I did”

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Icon and the Youngster move in on the Destroyer, Youngster using his speed to run circles around their foe, hitting him with a flurry of punches and kicks as he circles the marauder at nearly the speed of light.

As Youngster presses his attack, Icon rears back and throws several balls of concentrated kinetic energy from his fists which in concert with the Youngster's attack, staggers Destroyer. Icon moves in to press his attack, however, as Youngster continues to circle the titan, it reaches out and grabs the young hero by the arm and hurls him directly into Icon.

Icon and Youngster find themselves tangled together in a heap on the ground as the Destroyer moves in on them. The creature is on them before they are able to get to their feet. He grabs the Youngster by the throat and lifts him into the air, tossing him aside.

Icon gets to his feet, but Destroyer meets him with a thunderous right hand that sends Icon reeling back, then follows up with another...and another. Destroyer continues pounding on Icon, driving the hero down to one knee. Destroyer raises his fist high into the air, preparing to deliver a killing stroke. He lets out a primal roar and drives his fist down.

However, Icon catches the fist in his hand. He squeezes as he rises to his feet and looks Destroyer straight in the eyes.

"My turn." Icon says as he drives a fist into Destroyer's jaw, spraying blood and shattered teeth from the titan's mouth.

Before hitting the ground I regain control of my body and land on my feet. I know if I happen to hit the ground again I won’t be able to get back up, it’s already taking everything I have to keep going.

I run back to join the fight. As I do, I see Icon deliver a hard blow to Destroyer making him take a couple of steps back, giving me my opening. Seeing that the creature guard is wide open I switch into another gear focusing everything on just my speed. As I approach Destroy I lower head and lead with my shoulder and with built up momentum I drive my shoulder into the monsters chest. Right on impact there was a loud exploding sound that made my ears ring. The force of the collision sent Destroyer off his feet soaring just a couple of feet off the ground. He didn’t come to a stop till he hit a beat up building that gave way once he broke through the side wall.

I drop down on knee as my leg gave out on me. Icon quickly comes to my side and begins to lift me back to my feet. As he is about to say something he pauses as he sees in the distant Destroyer making his way back towards us as if nothing happened.

“What do we have to do to stop him?” I ask out loud.

“Maybe I wasn’t going fast enough.” I say as I take my arm away from Icon’s hand.

I quickly run off before Icon can stop me. This time I’m put everything I got into this and run through him. So once again I head towards Destroyer running as fast as my body will go. As I embrace my self for impact again Destroyer quickly side steps to his right and sticks his hand out and grabs me by the neck and choke slams me to the ground head first. My vision is blurry and only thing I can make out is a foot in front of me and then darkness.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Before hitting the ground I regain control of my body and land on my feet. I know if I happen to hit the ground again I won’t be able to get back up, it’s already taking everything I have to keep going.

I run back to join the fight. As I do, I see Icon deliver a hard blow to Destroyer making him take a couple of steps back, giving me my opening. Seeing that the creature guard is wide open I switch into another gear focusing everything on just my speed. As I approach Destroy I lower head and lead with my shoulder and with built up momentum I drive my shoulder into the monsters chest. Right on impact there was a loud exploding sound that made my ears ring. The force of the collision sent Destroyer off his feet soaring just a couple of feet off the ground. He didn’t come to a stop till he hit a beat up building that gave way once he broke through the side wall.

I drop down on knee as my leg gave out on me. Icon quickly comes to my side and begins to lift me back to my feet. As he is about to say something he pauses as he sees in the distant Destroyer making his way back towards us as if nothing happened.

“What do we have to do to stop him?” I ask out loud.

“Maybe I wasn’t going fast enough.” I say as I take my arm away from Icon’s hand.

I quickly run off before Icon can stop me. This time I’m put everything I got into this and run through him. So once again I head towards Destroyer running as fast as my body will go. As I embrace my self for impact again Destroyer quickly side steps to his right and sticks his hand out and grabs me by the neck and choke slams me to the ground head first. My vision is blurry and only thing I can make out is a foot in front of me and then darkness.

Icon looks on as Youngster lays on the ground motionless after Destroyer chokeslammed him into the ground. Icon leaps at Destroyer, hitting him with a massive uppercut, then follows it up with right and left hooks which stagger the alien.

"Why do you fight me? Surely you know that I am not one who can be defeated." Destroyer says, taunting Icon as he wipes blood from his nose.

"Well, I'll just have to try harder, won't I." Icon says as he hits Destroyer with an optical blast square in the face.

Enraged, Destroyer steps toward Icon, wildly swinging his fists in an effort to end the fight, however, Icon is able to easily avoid his attack, while following up with more quick strikes of his own. Destroyer attempts to regain the advantage, however his powerful blows are again easily dodged.

Growing angrier by the moment, Destroyer tries to grab Icon, however Icon is able to land a hard elbow strike on the bridge of the nose which momentarily stuns him. Icon takes advantage of Destroyer's momentary lapse, wrapping his arms around the titan's waist and rocketing skyward.

As they race into the heavens, Destroyer struggles to get free, and nearly succeeds more than once, but Icon strengthens his grip and continues upward. Finally, as they approach the reaches of low orbit, Icon simply lets go, allowing Destroyer to plummet back toward the earth.

After letting Destroyer fall for several thousand feet; Icon slams into him with the power of an airborne locomotive driving him faster and faster toward the earth below.

"What...are...you...doing?!" Destroyer bellows.

"Whatever it takes."

Moments later, Icon and the being known only as Destroyer slam hard into the ground, the impact creating a virtual storm of dust and debris. As the dust settles, Icon finds himself laying in a deep crater which reaches all the way to the bedrock, and laying unmoving next to him is the Destroyer.

It takes a few moments for him to regain his senses enough to crawl out of the crater, and when he finally gets to his feet he sees an armada of black military vehicles heading his way....Vehicles he's encountered more than once, and is rarely happy to see....S.T.R.I.K.E. coming in to pick up the pieces.

"Late to the party, as usual." He says as the vehicles come to a hault in front of the massive crater.

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Icon looks on as Youngster lays on the ground motionless after Destroyer chokeslammed him into the ground. Icon leaps at Destroyer, hitting him with a massive uppercut, then follows it up with right and left hooks which stagger the alien.

"Why do you fight me? Surely you know that I am not one who can be defeated." Destroyer says, taunting Icon as he wipes blood from his nose.

"Well, I'll just have to try harder, won't I." Icon says as he hits Destroyer with an optical blast square in the face.

Enraged, Destroyer steps toward Icon, wildly swinging his fists in an effort to end the fight, however, Icon is able to easily avoid his attack, while following up with more quick strikes of his own. Destroyer attempts to regain the advantage, however his powerful blows are again easily dodged.

Growing angrier by the moment, Destroyer tries to grab Icon, however Icon is able to land a hard elbow strike on the bridge of the nose which momentarily stuns him. Icon takes advantage of Destroyer's momentary lapse, wrapping his arms around the titan's waist and rocketing skyward.

As they race into the heavens, Destroyer struggles to get free, and nearly succeeds more than once, but Icon strengthens his grip and continues upward. Finally, as they approach the reaches of low orbit, Icon simply lets go, allowing Destroyer to plummet back toward the earth.

After letting Destroyer fall for several thousand feet; Icon slams into him with the power of an airborne locomotive driving him faster and faster toward the earth below.

"What...are...you...doing?!" Destroyer bellows.

"Whatever it takes."

Moments later, Icon and the being known only as Destroyer slam hard into the ground, the impact creating a virtual storm of dust and debris. As the dust settles, Icon finds himself laying in a deep crater which reaches all the way to the bedrock, and laying unmoving next to him is the Destroyer.

It takes a few moments for him to regain his senses enough to crawl out of the crater, and when he finally gets to his feet he sees an armada of black military vehicles heading his way....Vehicles he's encountered more than once, and is rarely happy to see....S.T.R.I.K.E. coming in to pick up the pieces.

"Late to the party, as usual." He says as the vehicles come to a hault in front of the massive crater.

With the window down Spartan over hears Icon’s remark. He steps out of the vehicle and the rest of the S.T.R.I.K.E agent’s fallow suit. As he steps out he looks around the area analyzing the damage.

“My apologies for being late but while you and your boy was playing hero we were busy getting people out of the area while that creature that lays motionless at you feet was stationary, well that was till you two decided to interfere in business that does not concern you."

Spartan then turns his back to Icon and faces his team of agents.

“Restrain the creature and put him in the back, our orders are to bring him back to base.”

Spartan then observes as the agents run back in forth from the van making sure to get every restraint possible to make sure there is not even a slight chance of the alien breaking loose.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

With the window down Spartan over hears Icon’s remark. He steps out of the vehicle and the rest of the S.T.R.I.K.E agent’s fallow suit. As he steps out he looks around the area analyzing the damage.

“My apologies for being late but while you and your boy was playing hero we were busy getting people out of the area while that creature that lays motionless at you feet was stationary, well that was till you two decided to interfere in business that does not concern you."

Spartan then turns his back to Icon and faces his team of agents.

“Restrain the creature and put him in the back, our orders are to bring him back to base.”

Spartan then observes as the agents run back in forth from the van making sure to get every restraint possible to make sure there is not even a slight chance of the alien breaking loose.

Icon has had several run ins with Spartan since the invasion, and they have never been pleasant. There is something about the young S.T.R.I.K.E. enforcer that bothers Icon...other than his arrogance...but he just can't put his finger on it.

"Good to see you're still S.T.R.I.K.E.'s errand boy. It's a shame, you have the potential to be so much more than that...it's just too bad you don't have the drive, or the ability to think on your own."

With that, Spartan glowers at Icon, not even trying to hide his anger. Icon ingnores him, instead going over to where The Youngster still lay unconcious, picking the young hero up.

"Now if you'll excuse me." Icon says as he takes to the skies, heading toward Lost Haven and the Guardians Headquarters, where he can get Youngster the medical help that he needs.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Shadow Walker has been following Big Charlie and Denny Malone for much of the night. For the most part is was an uneventful night, until they met up with a third man who Shadow Walker recognized as Tim Kane, one of Midas' favorite arrand boys.

He followed them to various dives all over town, until finally they led him to a loading dock behind The Water Hole, one of Midas' front businesses. There the three men began loading crate after crate of what illegal high powered weaponry...the very weapons his father had designed, into the back of the box truck.

Finally, he strikes, dropping in on the three men from the rooftop of the adjacent building. The three thugs cry out in panic, but Shadow Walker makes short work of them. Before they were able to fight back, Shadow Walker had the three men sprawled out on the ground, bound together with cable from the detatchable wrist mounted grapple line.

He was so distracted by the three thugs, he never once realized that it was he, who was being tracked from the shadows.

The assassin known as Arion watches Shadow Walker from his perch atop a nearby building. He peers through the scope of his assault weapon, one which Midas had given him as part of his fee for this job, one that was more than meets the eye.

"Now, let's see what you've got." Arion says as he squeezes the trigger.

The weapon fires, however the bullet does not connect with Shadow Walker, however, it makes contact with the ground directly to his left. Shadow Walker jumps to the side just as the ground beside him bursts into flames. Then another of the explosive "napalm rounds" is fired, then another and another, forcing Shadow Walker to get to higher ground away from what is quickly becoming a raging inferno behind "The Watering Hole."

Shadow Walker pulls himself up onto the rooftop from the same adjacent building from where he began his assault and quickly began looking arround for his new assailant. Then he spots the man, dressed entirely in red and black leather, perched on the ledge of a building several rooftops away...and is shocked when the man stands up, makes eye contact and nods to him...before disappearing into the night.

 

[Hound55]

A tense figure drives a black corvette, in a black tracksuit and an even darker demeanour. He’d just done his first reconnaissance sweep on the organization known as S.T.R.I.K.E and little of the news was what he’d call “good”. He’d jumped back on the grid and changed back to the ‘Vette which he was becoming more and more acclimatised to. Isaac felt a vibration run through his hip, lifting his top to check the Guardians pager he was given a brief message not urgent enough to be sent with a priority code.​

Isaac pulled his top back down and changed the frequency from emergency to his own on the car’s radio, then turned it up so he could hear better.​

[BLACKOUT]“Golf-Victor-One, heard you’ve been trying to reach me. Sitrep.”[/BLACKOUT]​

“This is Hammond, you’re really going to keep the formality over your own frequency? Ok. Another body turned up, looks like it could be the same M.O. either same perp or a copycat. Awaiting your presence at the corner of Seventeenth and Carver. Over”​

[BLACKOUT]“Golf-Victor-One, don’t tell me Seventeenth and Carver is still your beat as well? Over”[/BLACKOUT]​

“Ha ha ha. Negative. Let’s just say I’ve been given the prestigious position of unofficial liaison. Over.”​

Isaac couldn’t keep it in as a brief chuckle escaped the darkness of the balaklava.​

[BLACKOUT]“Golf-Victor-One, does this mean that the LHPD are now supporting Vigilante activity..? Over.”[/BLACKOUT]​

No response came over the air, and more laughter filled the Corvette, concealing the morbid reason for its travel.​

Inside the Police Cordon​

A small congregation of law enforcers are gathered around the cadaver when the black ‘Vette arrived on the scene.​

[BLACKOUT]“What are they all doing here contaminating the crime scene? Get back!”[/BLACKOUT] came the synthetic sounding voice from the gruff Guardian.​

“They’re detectives… to be honest, most were more interested in seeing you than the case itself.” As the voice of Sgt Hammond stepped from amongst the group.​

[BLACKOUT]“So who’s working the case..? …You and you? Alright, you four, piss off. Hammond, you can stay since you’re apparently my LHPD designated minder… although it bears the question of who the hell is watching these 4…”[/BLACKOUT]​

Isaac flicked the air filter on his voice modulator on and stepped past the 4 officers he’d just shooed away.​

[BLACKOUT]“And there better not be any damn vomit on my crime scene…”[/BLACKOUT]​

“Ah hell…” Isaac thought to himself realising what the strong odour meant.​

[BLACKOUT]“Well, for starters it looks like I was mistaken last time…”[/BLACKOUT]​

“Yeah..?”​

[BLACKOUT]“Partly…”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac quickly chimed in, cutting off any sarcastic response the Sergeant may have been planning.​

[BLACKOUT]“Looks like… well rather, SMELLS like the perpetrator intended to pierce both the liver with the kidneys last time. Means the mistake he made last time when he grazed it by not skewering it completely, as he has here, rather than it being an accident that he hit the liver at all.”[/BLACKOUT]​

“So what does that mean?”​

[BLACKOUT]“Well it means we have one more reason to want to stop this guy before this happens again… two if you count each nostril… No, I know what you meant. Could be he wants us to find the bodies? Spilling bile is about the fastest way to have corpses found that I could think of… Could be something else... I’d say too early to tell definitively.”[/BLACKOUT]​

Isaac removed the leather exterior gloves and started taking his own notes again.​

“Are we ever going to get these notes that you’re writing yourself? Or is this whole information exchange thing going to be a one way street?”​

Isaac looked up from the small notepad into Hammond’s eyes and beyond, wearily he left a brief pause before saying,​

[BLACKOUT]“Yeah, when I get back to HQ I’ll type ‘em up and shoot them off to you electronically. There’s nothing really in here that I’m not saying out loud though anyway…”[/BLACKOUT]​

The Vigilante finished scrawling what was on his mind and pocketed it, a sigh was heard as an unintelligible sound from the voice modulator, which made him cringe himself, as he started to survey the victim more closely.​

[BLACKOUT]“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here… Kidney pierced… Other kidney pierced and as we’ve already established the liver too… Neck… untouched. Well that would support my theory last time. That he panicked and did it on instinct… Now he’s getting better…”[/BLACKOUT]​

Fontaine rose back to his feet from his hunched over position to best inspect the neck and his attention returned to what was most immediately obvious.​

[BLACKOUT]“Back's got minor lacerations again… Some deeper though. Hmm…”[/BLACKOUT]​

Isaac’s eyes were fixed on the small of the dead man’s back.​

[BLACKOUT]“That seems to have too much significance to just be a coincidental pattern… What do you see there?”[/BLACKOUT]​

Hammond stepped over and looked at what the Guardian’s representative was referring to:

“It… It looks kind of like a snake. Pretty crude though…”​

[BLACKOUT]“Well yeah, it’s going to be crude, he’s using a shiv or something and he’s not exactly going to think we’re going to cut the skin off this guy’s back, stretch it out like a canvas and exhibit it at MoMA…”[/BLACKOUT]​

“You sure..? Somma these whack jobs…”​

[BLACKOUT]“Hammond, give these people some credit ‘til they prove themselves unworthy of it… That’s my advice.”[/BLACKOUT]​

“Kid, I’ve been doing this job for 15-some years… If anyone’s going to be giving lectures on human nature here, it’s going to be me.”​

[BLACKOUT]“Sergeant, it wasn’t advice for your personal life… I don’t give a damn how you think that way; I don’t know you and I don’t care to know you. It’s professional advice… If you can’t empathise, get a clear view of the rationale behind the subject, how can you hope to predict his movements? If you’re trying to test me you can go join the other 4. You want to call me “kid” you can chase your dumbarse rookie partner around the office and go back to trying to teach him the ins-and-outs of how to use police tape and which end of the radio to talk into…”[/BLACKOUT]​

[BLACKOUT]“You don’t want advice on how crime scene operates, fine. You want to be a traffic cop the rest of your life chasing more dumbarse rookies as the senior officer in traffic, great. But you expect me to put up with your attitude, we’re gonna have a problem. I’m not one of your rookie cops… I have my methods, they’re established. I can work with you or around you, if you’re somehow under the illusion that I NEED you… then you’re misinformed.”[/BLACKOUT]​

The two men once again traded cold glares. The other two detectives who were working the case looked on uncomfortably.​

“Are you done?” asked the Sergeant, breaking the silence.​

[BLACKOUT]“Hopefully…”[/BLACKOUT] as Isaac went back to the crime scene.​

The pair continued in an uneasy dialogue for the duration of Isaac’s inspection, no longer exchanging unnecessary pleasantries throughout, Isaac made it clear what data he would be wanting from the C.S.I. to go with the victim's data and left. The two detectives were noticeably quiet the entire time.​

The dark figure slumped in the corvette’s car seat and let his frustration wash over him. He bit back again… Isaac didn’t have that many friends in the first place and could ill afford to lose the people who could tolerate him. Not so much from a professional point of view, but definitely for his own sanity. He cursed himself out under his breath and declared that it must be his need for rest. Isaac changed the car over under cover as he had so many times before.​

Hours later Isaac could be found passed out in one of his privately set up hideouts, the TV on the news and his chair surrounded by empty beer bottles.​

Guardians Headquarters

Slender gloved fingers rap deliberately against keys. The device, satisfied, activates and a heavy door slides open, revealing the contrasting image of the darkly clad vigilante in the light of the midday sun.

Isaac customarily checks the “Clock-In” board. Not a single “active member”. Isaac lets out half an involuntary sigh, before catching himself and attempts to pass it off as a yawn.

He fools no one, and not just because there is no one around to see his blatantly transparent display of insecurity. He holds back another sigh, this time directed at himself, and the thought of just what inappropriate things he would do right now for a beer flickers across his mind.

Isaac wades deeper into the heart of Guardians HQ, past the living room where Mike was a regular, through the kitchen which is/was Blurry’s home away from home, and to the “boxes”.

Each Guardian had their own personal lockable lead-lined box for dispatch delivery and personal use, amongst the Guardians themselves there was largely an informal, personal tone. But when others weren’t around the boxes were the main method of data-delivery to the members, with pagers used for quick-contact short messages and urgent response. Since they were lockable, they could also be used for personal storage as well outside of their individual rooms. Isaac however was loathe to trust anything that was given to him and kept nothing personal at the HQ.

Isaac unlocked his box and removed the file containing the reports for the most recent homicide, to check for differences between his own notes and the coroner’s reports and any new information the experts may have uncovered. This was quite possible, since he couldn’t inspect the scene itself too closely for fear of contaminating the scene for the coroners.
Opening the folder he noticed something new immediately. Where the first folder had a little impersonal note from Sgt Hammond, this report had a rigid, formal coversheet on a LHPD letterhead.

“What the hell?!?”

To (the) Vigilante,

Due to the results of a mutually agreed upon performance review, Sergeant Hammond (Interim Liaison Officer for Guardians Relations) will be relieved of duty as the role has been permanently filled by LSO Thomas Palmer. The permanent ILOGR contact numbers can be found at the top of this letterhead.

We truly appreciate any assistance you can provide the Lost haven Police Department in this and future cases.

Commissioner Mark Davis

LSO9 Thomas Palmer

Isaac stomped over to the nearest video-phone screen; in the kitchen. Punching the number on the touch screen interface, a scowl dropped over his face in anticipation as the dial tone sang.

“Hello, Liaison Office for Guar…”

[BLACKOUT]“Yeah, get me Thomas Palmer.”[/BLACKOUT]

“This is he… who am I speaking to?”

[BLACKOUT]“You’re speaking to one very f***ing unimpressed Guardian…”[/BLACKOUT]

“Vigi… Vigilante?”

[BLACKOUT]“Bingo. Now can you tell me WHY I’m speaking to you?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Uhh… Did you get the…”

[BLACKOUT]“Yes, I got the report. That’s where I got your phone number from. It’s also where I heard the news which has pissed me off so much. So why don’t we start with why you think you’re qualified for this job and I’ll answer with exactly why you’re not…”[/BLACKOUT]

“Well, I’ve been an LSO for fifteen years and fast risen up the ranks from a lower level officer dealing with Feds, Interpol and occasionally…”

[BLACKOUT]“Shut up. You’re a desk jockey. End of discussion. I am NOT dealing with some dick in a suit who has no understanding of what we do out there. Now where’s Hammond?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Sergeant Hammond is on full paid leave, it was agreed upon by all parties.”

[BLACKOUT]“And nobody invited me to the party…”[/BLACKOUT]

“The position is representative of the LHPD, it has nothing to do with what you want or what you don’t want.” Palmer said, firmer now.

[BLACKOUT]“Agreed. Just like my role in assisting the LHPD in this case and possible future cases has nothing to do with the LHPD…”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac spat between gritted teeth.

“Well, I don’t know what you propose we do about this. Hammond has gone on leave. I don’t know why you want him back anyway, the Detectives we had on scene said you were on just as uneasy terms with him as you are with me now…”

[BLACKOUT]“So that’s what this is about… Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum went running back saying that Hammond couldn’t “handle” me, eh?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Well if you were on as bad terms with him as you are with m…”

[BLACKOUT]“I’m not on the same terms with him as I am with you. At least with Hammond I had professional courtesy… There’s no hope for mutual respect here. You’re a pencil-pushing jackass who’s never been under fire in the line of duty and you won’t be. Ever.”[/BLACKOUT]

“But I’m all there is.”

[BLACKOUT]“No. I don’t care. This is the last time I speak to you. You can keep your title, your pay and do all the behind the scenes gear, which I know the LHPD will keep you doing anyway, but someone else will be Liaising directly with me.”[/BLACKOUT]

“Again. Who? I’m all there is, Hammond’s on leave.”

[BLACKOUT]“…”[/BLACKOUT] Seconds of silence hung on the phone, dressed as hours.

[BLACKOUT]“…If Hammond’s on holiday… Who’s watching his kid partner..?”[/BLACKOUT]

“There’s no way he’s qualified for this assignment…”

[BLACKOUT]“What qualified? He’s a trained police officer. It’s more than you have in that regard, and for the desk stuff you’re backing him up. If anything, I could probably give the kid some insight into the field which he wouldn’t normally be able to get.”[/BLACKOUT]

Palmer thought about the situation. He was dealing with someone who wanted nothing to do with him, if Commissioner Davis found out about his demands he’d probably pull the plug on Thomas’ first chance at heading a Liaison office. He’d be demoted down and left to work on a far less cutting-edge assignment dealing with the Feds or another agency which is less hyped. But if he could get the Vigilante to buy in, even in a failing system, he might be able to move sideways and Head another office elsewhere.

“Alright, I’ll talk to him and see if I can get him on board in the L.O.G.R… It might be difficult though, the LHPD is very tight-knit and he may hold you responsible for the Sergeant…”

[BLACKOUT]“ME?!? Well you’d better make it clear that it was in no way my decision to have Hammond cut loose and to deal with some dick-at-a-desk.”[/BLACKOUT]

“Don’t worry, I’ll debrief him in full.”

[BLACKOUT]“OK… Hopefully this is the last time I speak to you then, I’ve got a file to inspect.”[/BLACKOUT]

“Well it was good speaking to… Hello? …What an a**hole.”

[BLACKOUT]“What an a**hole.”[/BLACKOUT]

And with that out of the way, Isaac took the report and left by the garage. While he wanted to read the file in peace, the empty Headquarters only reminded him of Michael’s absence.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

After bringing The Youngster to Dr. Chen at the Guardian Headquarters medical wing, Icon makes his way to the quarters provided for him in the installation.

While inside the small room, Icon can't help but to think of the confrontation with the STRIKE agent Spartan after the fight with the alien monster known as Destroyer. Ever since STRIKE emerged in the days after the Arlaaekan invasion, confrontations with the organization have been on the rise, and he can't help but to notice, they've grown more contentious as well.

Ever since he first encountered the organization soon after revealing himself to the world, he has been suspicious of them, and it would seem that as of late, they have been proving those suspicions well founded.

He can't shake the feeling that STRIKE is up to something, he just wishes that he knew what it is.

With these thoughts heavy on his mind, he leaves his small room and makes his way for the exit...and as he walks down the corridor he can't help but to think of how empty the place is these days. Flux went out on her own to find herself soon after the formation of the Guardians. Blue Blur has been scarce as late. Kensei is gone, nobody knows if he is even alive. The Survivor has vanished, however, he soes that from time to time. Then of course, there is Michael...who left the group, and the superhero business altogether. Which left him, Youngster, and Isaac...and the thought crosses his mind that perhaps it is time to replenish the ranks of the Guardians.

He walks through the door of the headquarters, and as he does he immediately takes to the sky. If he has learned one thing in his lifetime, it is that there is nothing better to clear your head, than flying over the city that you love.

 

[Blacklight]

Chapter 4
​

The team continued flying in the direction that Blacklight had led them into taking. The Prism was still a ways off as Jon could feel, but while they made their way there, Jon began to take notes of the key differences between himself and his alternate selves.

Surely Violetlight must be my intelligence... Jon thought, He has rather... educated speech patterns. Plus the technologically advanced suit...

Indigolight's very over the top in his presentation. More than likely he's my heroic side...

Next Jon shifted his thoughts to Bluelight.

Hmm... Bluelight is very silent. Cold too. Intimidating. He could very well be the side of me that can instill fear in others...

Greenlight? From all the weapons, I'm guessing he's the fighter in me. My determination...

Then on the other side of him was the other three of him towards the end of spectrum.

Going on the outfit he wears, I'm guessing this one does some Martial Arts. Which requires alot of discipline. Yellowlight must embody my sense of order...

Orangelight is my sense of humor... Clearly.

And lastly there's Redlight. Seems pretty mad... ALL of the time. My anger most likely...

As his thoughts on his teammates came to a conclusion and the energy of the Prism felt close by to him, Jon asked himself one question.

Wonder why there isn't one that represents my dark side?

"Look!"

There it was... Straight ahead. A clear as day, pyrimid sized, Prism-shaped structure that shined bright from the light it refracted.

"Let's go!"

Increasing their flight speed, the eight Blacklights all gunned for the Prism, decreasing their altitude as they came closer, so as to land safely before it.

"So where are the bad guys? I was hoping for some action!"

"Right here..." came a sinister voice.

"This is going to sound really cliche... but I think you spoke too soon there, buddy..." Orangelight said as he pointed to the 7 figures standing behind them.

Spoiler

"We've been waiting for you. Now it's time to die..."

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Icon has had several run ins with Spartan since the invasion, and they have never been pleasant. There is something about the young S.T.R.I.K.E. enforcer that bothers Icon...other than his arrogance...but he just can't put his finger on it.

"Good to see you're still S.T.R.I.K.E.'s errand boy. It's a shame, you have the potential to be so much more than that...it's just too bad you don't have the drive, or the ability to think on your own."

With that, Spartan glowers at Icon, not even trying to hide his anger. Icon ingnores him, instead going over to where The Youngster still lay unconcious, picking the young hero up.

"Now if you'll excuse me." Icon says as he takes to the skies, heading toward Lost Haven and the Guardians Headquarters, where he can get Youngster the medical help that he needs.

Spartan watches as Lost Haven's hero flies off. Ever since he met the caped hero he has had a place for him in the bottom of his stomach.

“Here are some words of wisdom hero. Where ever you were you should have stayed there because you were safer.” Spartan says knowing full well that Icon would be able to hear him with his enhance hearing.

Spartan turns his attention to his fellow agents as they load of the alien. He calls out to some agents that weren’t busy.

“Get a team down here and search the area just to see if there may be any survivors.”

After giving the order he then made his way to his vehicle. As he is walking his partner James also known as the Sentry, approaches him.

“Spartan I scanned the area already and I didn’t come up with any life signs.”

“Even so I don’t want to take if chances. We won’t leave anyone behind. Stay with the others and make sure the search goes well.”

Spartan orders Sentry as he makes his way into the S.T.R.I.K.E van and exits the area to head back to headquarters.

 

[Mr. Majestic]

After bringing The Youngster to Dr. Chen at the Guardian Headquarters medical wing, Icon makes his way to the quarters provided for him in the installation.

While inside the small room, Icon can't help but to think of the confrontation with the STRIKE agent Spartan after the fight with the alien monster known as Destroyer. Ever since STRIKE emerged in the days after the Arlaaekan invasion, confrontations with the organization have been on the rise, and he can't help but to notice, they've grown more contentious as well.

Ever since he first encountered the organization soon after revealing himself to the world, he has been suspicious of them, and it would seem that as of late, they have been proving those suspicions well founded.

He can't shake the feeling that STRIKE is up to something, he just wishes that he knew what it is.

With these thoughts heavy on his mind, he leaves his small room and makes his way for the exit...and as he walks down the corridor he can't help but to think of how empty the place is these days. Flux went out on her own to find herself soon after the formation of the Guardians. Blue Blur has been scarce as late. Kensei is gone, nobody knows if he is even alive. The Survivor has vanished, however, he soes that from time to time. Then of course, there is Michael...who left the group, and the superhero business altogether. Which left him, Youngster, and Isaac...and the thought crosses his mind that perhaps it is time to replenish the ranks of the Guardians.

He walks through the door of the headquarters, and as he does he immediately takes to the sky. If he has learned one thing in his lifetime, it is that there is nothing better to clear your head, than flying over the city that you love.

I slowly open my eyes and as I do so I see Dr. Chen standing over me. My first reaction is to lean up but before I’m about to move more than an inch Chen stops me.

“You should stay still, you have some serious injures done to your body.”

I can feel the damage that has been done to me I don’t need him to tell me.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking…” I look around and it hits me I’m not on the battle field and Icon is no where to be seen. “…where is Icon at?”

“He left after he brought you here.”

“Did he go back to fight Destroyer? If he did I have to get back to him.”

The doctor then rests his hand on my chest to stop me in my place.

“You have nothing to worry about Icon took care of him. All you have to worry about is getting better. You don’t need to be doing so much moving around, not in your condition.

I then rest my back on the bed taking the doctors advice. It’s a shame I got knock unconscious I really wanted to show Icon I have grown into my own hero. But instead I lost control of my emotions and was acting before thinking. He must think I’m still a kid by the way I was acting.

I don’t know what happened to me out there it was as if I could control my actions. That was a big set back, can’t let that happen again. I have to do better, I will be better.

 

[Hound55]

A stationary black Corvette

Isaac sat in the car, flipping through the folder which contained the case file. He removed the coroner’s report, complete with photographs, and the file on the victim. Removing the notepad from his pocket he compares his notes with those of the coroners’ office. Everything checked out, but to be on the safe side he began flicking through the photographs of the cadaver. Stopping and looking on at a shot of the deceased’s back.

Isaac took a double-take and grabbed at the coroners’ report to see if they picked up what he now saw, and when he could see no evidence that they had picked up on it he lunged at the glove compartment and retrieved the file from the first killing and rifled through looking for a photo.

[BLACKOUT]“S***…”[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac felt a shudder through his right hip as his pager pulsated a message through.
Isaac put the file containing the first victim’s report on the passenger seat, and decorating the manila cake with a photograph from it as a cherry on top.

Feeling blindly for the pager his gaze was fixed on a photo of the corpse they first inspected. Particularly a very minor detail.

Isaac removed the beeper from under his clothes.

Just to the right of the small of the first victim’s back, obscured largely by contrasting horizontal lacerations was a small symbol.

“LHPD reporting another homicide to GHQ. Looks like they found victim number 3. Location in following transmi”

[BLACKOUT]“Number 3…”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac said aloud to himself.

[BLACKOUT]“I don’t think we’re at liberty to say anymore… It looks like he’s already called him number 2.”[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac removed his thumb from the picture of the first victim, revealing a small “IV” hacked into the deceased’s flesh…