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

[NiteMare Shape]

Midas stands at the large picture window which overlooks Lost Haven from his penthouse suite. For the most part he ignores his two minions, Nichols and Niles, who stand behind him as they go through the reports of the events at the storehouse the night before.

Two hundred and fifty million.

Lost.

Two hundred and fifty million dollars worth of high tech weaponry up in smoke, all because of Him.

And nobody can give him a reason as to why this happened.

Midas slowly turns towards Nichols and Niles, producing a small handgun hidden under his shirtsleave, and fires once, hitting Nichols square between the eyes before the man even realizes that something is wrong.

"This is completely unacceptable Niles. This...freak has been a headache for far too long. I want you to contact Dr. Lennox...I think it's time that we ended this...confrontation once and for all."

"Yes sir."

"Oh and Niles...please take out the trash." he says, motioning towards Nichols' corpse.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Kevin takes Erica's hand as they walk through the Louis Bros. Carnival, one of several carnivals that makes its way to Lost Haven on an annual basis.

Kevin is almost uncomfortable amid the lights and the laughter of families out enjoying a night of games and rides. He is more comfortable hiding among the shadows, fighting his one man war against the Cartel. In fact, he would rather be out persuing Midas after the success at the warehouse...but he did promise Erica that he would take her to the carnival tonight, and for just one night forget that he is Shadow Walker.

And despite himself, he has had a good time. He finds himself thinking how nice it is to just be himself for a bit, and he finds himself longing for the days before of Shadow Walker...the Cartel, and Midas...before any of this.

After waiting in line for several minutes to get on the Ferris Wheel, they finally take their seats and are whisked away toward the sky. Erica slides over closer to him and puts his arm around her shoulders.

"You know, I can get used to this."

"Well, I'd certainly hope so." She says, jokingly mocking him.

"I'm serious. I don't want to do this forever. I'm so close to finishing this thing with Midas, I can feel it. And when it's all over, I'm done...and we can move on with our lives."

***
​

Across Town

Joined by Dr. Lennox and several others, Midas makes his way through the halls of the underground research facility that The Cartel has secretly funded for several years. This facility has provided the criminal organization with several of its best soldiers...men and women who are blindly loyal to the organization and are willing to, and have given their lives in the intrest of Midas and his syndicate.

However, they have been unable to take down the one man who has stood against them...Shadow Walker. And that is why he has found himself here, in the maximum security section of this facility known as Area 12, where Dr. Lennox's most lethal and unpredictable experiments are kept.

He stands in front of a solid steel door, knowing full well the awesome power of the creature contained inside the cell, and he smiles...knowing that this is what he should have done in the first place.

He reaches for the security console located directly next to the heavy door, and activates the small intercom that goes into the containment cell.

"Korda, your time has finally come my friend. After you finish this one task, you will be free from this place. You will be free to live your life as you wish."

He listens as the creature inside hisses an acknowledgement in response.

"Dr. Lennox, release the beast."
​

​

 

[sabetoonth]

“Oh my god!” Elijah said as he saw the bodies being carried out. Mitch put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“You don’t need to see this man.” Elijah sliped out from under his hand.


“Yes I do.” Elijah slipped under the tape and walked right by a pair of officers.


“Sir, we’re gonna ask you to get on the other side of the tape.” One aid to
him, Elijah kept walking.


“I need to see this.” Elijah said, just then a massive head ache racked his brain and he collapsed to his knees clutching his cranium. “AHHHH!” this time the flashback was painful. Images of gore, dismemberment and agony where strung before his mind’s eye as if they where photographs hanging on the wall before him.

“Sir?” the other officer said approaching Elijah carefully. Elijah clenched his teeth and forced his eyes shut. Elijah suddenly fell to the ground unconscious.

“El!” Mitch ducked under the yellow tape and sped to his friend, an officer grabbed him as another radioed for a bus. “Let me go he’s my friend!” He said as he watched the police huddle around Elijah

[Hell, Approximately 30 Years Ago]
He began by marking the doors in his own blood, then marking his own arm. His breathe quickened, his nostrils flared. A loud churning and chunking sound eminated from his shoulder as he clenched it and pulled the limb away from his body. An inhuman howl echoed through the realm and the mass of flesh writhed on the ground soaking it in blood.

“Grow, and leave this place to spread my will Satan.”

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon flies high above the streets of Lost Haven, watching over the city that has become his home. Over the years, he has fought hard to keep the city safe. It has been a difficult fight, from your everyday petty criminal to crazed super villains and an alien invasion...the city has had its fair share of people looking to make an example out of it.

He has given so much to the city, and he has lost so much. Eventually he left it behind, until he got some good advice from the last place he would have expected it.

And now he's back.

He'd almost forgotten how much he loves the feeling of soaring high above the city, the winds in his hair, the massive expanse of the city sprawled out below him.

As he flies above the city, the conversation he had with Keira keeps replaying in his mind. He can't shake the image of her standing there when he opened the door to his apartment. The look on her face, a mixture of hurt and anger is burned into his memory.

When he left Lost Haven, he never thought that it would effect so many people the way it had. Keira had been hurt, but she was a close friend...and he just upped and left, abandoning her without so much as a goodbye. However, it was the same look that she wore in the doorway of his apartment that he saw on the faces of many people who he hadn't ever met before.

And it is that moment that he realizes that he has alot to make up for. He left the city while it was still vulnerable...still recovering from the alien invasion...when the city and the rest of the world for that matter needed him. And as happy as most of the people seem at his return, there are others will resent him for leaving them in their time of need.

He knows that he has alot to answer for...some of the answers he can never truely give. But he is determined to make up for his mistakes, no matter how long it takes.

 

[Byrd Man]

The Barrio
Lost Haven
1:20 PM

Outisde the car, the dilapidated houses whiz by. Spanish children are playing soccer on dirty lots, and men with tatoos and white tank tops give the unmarked police car the stink-eye as it travesl down the street.

The Barrio, Lost Haven's Spanish neighborhood is home to the street gang Los Terrorificos and their leader Ernesto Sosa. Sosa and his gang push roughly a quarter of Lost Haven's heroin. Someone's been handing out testers at an elementary school six blocks away from Los Terrorificos.

"Told you we shouldn't have given Sosa such a loose leash," Mike Eckling says from the driver's seat. His twin brother Ike nods in the passenger seat.

"How about you drive, Mike. Leave the thinking to me. It doesn't suit you two, you haven't had the practice."

Mike parks the unmarked car across the street from a dirty house with overgrown weeds in the lawn. Two Mexican gangbangers stand outside the house, drinking malt liquor and chatting.

"Look at this puto," one of the gangbangers says as I step out the back of the car.

"Odelay!" His buddy agrees. "****in' five-o looking more like a four-eyed *****!"

I calmly walk up to the two men, eyeing them both.

"Where's Ernesto?"

"How about you go **** off, esé?"

"That was the wrong answer."

Grabbing the gangbanger by his neck, I toss him into his friend.

"Hey, pendajo!" One of the punks shouts as he goes for the gun in his waistband.

"Hector, chill out," a voice says from the house. A skinny man in jeans and a t-shirt steps out on the front porch. Ernesto Sosa holds a hand up, trying to calm down his too men.

"Inspector Smith wants to just talk. Isn't that right, jefe?"

"That's right. So do me a favor, call your dogs off."

"Hector, Alanzo, un momento."

The two thugs eye me and then start walking across the lawn. Sosa waits until they're gone before he steps off the porch to meet me.

"Apologies, Ed. My bodyguards, they're new. They don't know what the score is."

"There seems to be a lot of that going around. People forgetting what the deal is. Drug dealers handing out testers to goddamn school kids. A kid OD'ed this afternoon. Thought the smack was candy. We had a deal, Sosa. I stay off your ass, you only sling to junkies and keep it contained. **** like this keeps happening, I can't protect you. I'll send the SWAT team so far up you're ass, you'll have combat boot prints on your tongue."

"Look, man. Me and my boys didn't have nothing to do with that, alright? I think I know who did."

"Give me a name."

"Chicky Jones. He's a low to mid-level player trying to set up shop. My boys ran him out of the Barrio. Last I heard, he set up shop somewhere around that school that got hit."

"If this tip turns out to be bogus, I will be back. I'll bring Sergeant White with me. You know, diablo blanco grande. We'll see how the señoritas like Ernesto when he's eating all his meals out of a tube."

"My tip is good. You look for the fiends in that neighborhood, they'll tell you about Chicky."

"Good."

That's all I say to Sosa as I walk away, crossing the street and climbing back into the car.

"I'm done here, boys. Take us back to the neighborhood the school is in. Ike, call Bill. Have him meet us. We got some work that's right up his alley."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Sweat pours down Robert Perkins' face as he nervously fingers the trigger of his semi-automatic assault rifle. Things have gone according to plan, however this is taking alittle longer than he had hoped.

When he and his cohorts rushed into the First National Bank of Lost Haven, it went perfectly. They were able to get all the bank patrons back against the far wall, and then on to their stomachs without a hitch.

Then they secured the bank employees and subdued the security guards without a shot being fired. Things had gone amazingly well. But now things have slowed down. The bank workers are working too slowly putting the money in the bags, way too slow. He is convinced that they must have triggered a silent alarm and are trying to stall until the SWAT team shows up.

"Faster! You're moving too ******* slow! Get that money in the bags or I'm gonna start wasting you mother *******!" He shouts at the bank workers.

As one of the tellers frantically works to pick up the pace, he trips and falls into another of the tellers, causing the young woman to stumble. This sudden movement startles Perkins, and he panics. Without thinking he points his gun at the two tellers and squeezes the trigger.

As the bullets exit the nozzle of the assault weapon, Robert sees something else. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a blue streak. It is only there for an instant and he dissmisses it as just his imagination. However, to his horror he sees that what he saw was very real, and now in front of him stands Icon, the bullets he just fired bouncing harmlessly off his chest.

Robert takes several steps back, shaking his head in disbelief and opens fire on Icon again, and once again the bullets bounce harmlessly off of his chest.

"Really?" Icon says, grinning at Robert.

Robert raises the gun again, but this time Icon looks right at the barrel of the gun and fires two pinpoint accurate optical beams at the gun, and keeps them on the weapon until it becomes red hot, forcing Robert to drop it.

The gun hasn't even hit the floor and Icon has rounded up Robert and his two cohorts and tied them together using the red velvet rope used to show the bank patrons where the line forms.

And with the would be bank robbers neutralized, Icon again takes to the skies, off to stop the next catastrophy.

 

[TrueMastermind]

"What the...hell...did you to us...Knight...?" Recovering from my thoughts, I look back down at the injured Broughton. SHould just one simple kick to your no-nos keep you down for that long?

"I don't know..." I look at Broughton, then at my hands. They appear as if nothing had happened at all, but that wasn't the case at all. I then look at the downed agents. What was this? What am I? Do I have...superpowers?

"FREEZE!" The door bursts open, revealing an armed squadron of soldiers, aiming their high-tech weaponry right at me. Wait a second. If I could just blast those agents straight into oblivion with just a little willpower, then maybe I could do the same to these guys...

BOOM! The wall behind me explodes, laying out a layer of smoke that makes it impossible to see anything in this cramped apartment. But I can hear people yelling out in pain, crying out for help. I try to stay still to avoid a beatdown myself, but as soon as I could truly grasp what was going down, I suffer from a brutal blow to the head. A face appears through the smoke...

...before everything goes black.

It's hard at first. My eyelids feel like they weight a ton. All that I can manage to see is just a giant blur. Oh, and the headache. It's as if I got slammed with a truck. But the worst part is trying to figure what the hell just happened.

So let's backtrack. Got confronted by former comrade. Had the cold barrel of a gun pressed against my noggin. Blasted some black **** at attackers, knocking them out. More guns pointed at me. Wall goes kaboom, smoke erupts, and everything goes black. Picture perfect.

"Hey fool! Wake up!"

Huh? Everything starts to clear up, although that fact doesn't help figure out where the hell I am. A face comes into view, the same that appeared to me back in all the smoke.

"Didn't you hear me fool? Wake up!"

Stunned by the harsh, threatening tone of my delightful new acquaintance, I suddenly find the strength to lift my upper half from what seems to be a bed. As I rise, I manage to see more of this guy. Amazingly toned and bulky, this dude looks like he could kick my *** at any given moment. I will be sure to take note of that.

"Alright fool, state your name and why the hell you was with them government cronies!"

Does anybody else realizes the heavy use of the word fool? Anyways, why did this guy get to ask the questions? Apparently, he kidnapped me. And I think that warrants an explanation. But I doubt I was getting one...

"How do you know I wasn't one of them?"

"You trying to get smart with me boy?"

"It's quite simple really. You weren't wearing the traditional STRIKE garb. Plus, the men of their ranks directing their weaponry towards you gave off a clue."

It took me a while to discover where the voice of this new arrival in the conversation was coming from. But when there was nowhere else to look except up, I still remained suprised to find a teenage boy with goggles hanging from the ceiling. Who are these people?

"Yes, I know, how am I up here? Well first off, my name is Garry but everybody arounds here calls me Gecko. You know, because I can stick to walls and stuff. And that joyous indivisual over there goes by the name Rampage. You'll see why later."

I raise my eyebrows without giving a verbal response, instigating him to continue on.

"You see friend, we are just two members of New York's most loved team. You may of heard of us, as we are two of the famous Justice Crusade!"

"Who?"

"Oh stop joking, who doesn't know who the Justice Crusade are?"

"Me."

"No seriously, stop playing around."

"Why would I be playing around?"

"Well, seems like you'll be needing a little lecture..."

 

[wiegeabo]

I look at my surroundings and shake my head. "Government van," I mumble.

"What?"

"I said, it's a nice van."

Hawkes nods. "Thanks. Got it at a government auction. it was a good deal."

"Yeah, I bet."

"Oh, I know. She doesn't look like much. But she's got it where it counts. Worked on her myself. Added in a few extras."

"Extras?"

"Well, the extras I could afford. Trying to get money out of The Director, even though this technically is being used as a company car..."

"I figured all you'd have to do is fill out a couple of forms and give them to Alberts."

"I did. Twenty of them...In triplicate." By the tone of his voice, I can guess just how much money he got.

"So...where are we going?"

"To see a friend."

"You already told me that. But that's all you said. What friend?"

"An old friend."

I shake my head again. "Talking to you is like pulling teeth."

"That can be arranged, my friend."

"Har har. So, I take it it's a military buddy." I jerk forward in my seat as Hawkes slams the brakes. Our tires screech, and they're not the only ones. The blaring of horns gives me a clue about how many cars are stuck behind us now.

But I can't think about that as Hawkes grabs me by my jacket and pulls me towards him. "How'd you know I was in the military?! Someone told you. Who talked? The Director said our past was confidential. What'd you do? Go snooping around our files while you were all see-through?!"

"Hey, hey! Calm down!"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Cars honk and drivers yell at us as their forced to pull around the van. "What the hell do you know about me?"

"Not a damn thing!" I try to pull his hands off my jacket, but his grip is like iron. "Geez, man. Just look at you. You basically sweat ex-military. Everything about you says army."

Hawkes glares at me for a few more seconds. Then he lets me go, puts the van back in gear, and starts down the road. We sit in silence for a while.

"It wasn't the army."

I glance at Hawkes. "What?"

"I said...it wasn't the army. I'd never be in the army. Can't believe you'd even think that."

"Not the army?"

"Jarhead, all the way."

"Ah." We sit for a few more seconds. "So...um...see any action, marine?"

Hawkes breathes out, his head bobbing slightly side to side. "You could say that."

"Where?"

"Desert Storm. Other places."

"Pulling teeth."

"Hey, I just don't like to talk about my past, ok?"

"Ok, ok. I get it. It's just...not fair, is all."

"What's not fair?"

"You know. You get to know everything about me. I don't get to know anything about you?"

"Yes. That's right. That's just how I like it. The personal life of Bobby Hawkes is need to know, and you don't need to know, my friend."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Except, that I do need to know."

"Ha. No no no. You don't."

I nod my head. "Yeah, I sort of do."

"No you don't."

"Yeah I do."

"No you don't."

"Yeah I...oh geez. Listen, there's two good reasons I should get to know about your past."

"No there isn't."

"Yes there..." I stop myself before falling into the trap. "One: We're going to meet an old friend of yours anyway. So I'm automatically going to learn something. So You might as well fill me in before we get there. Two: I'm your partner. Partners are supposed to share stuff."

"You watch way too many buddy cop movies there, Cole."

"Well...I like buddy cop movies."

"Best one?"

"Lethal Weapon."

"The first?"

"Naturally."

"Damn right."

"...and there's this Canadian flick..."

"Good Cop, Bon Cop?"

"Yes!"

"Love that one."

"I thought it was just going to be another Weapon rip off-"

"But there was something about it that made it all its own."

"Exactly." We sit in silence for a couple of seconds. "Did-did we just have a guy moment?"

Hawkes bobbles his head. "Come onnnn...a little guy moment maybe. Bit of bonding for a second there?"

"Maybe a little one."

I smile. "There we go. That's a start. So...you're friend. Where are we meeting him?"

"At his work." Hawkes points as a building as we pass it, just before pulling into a parking structure.

I stare at the sign in disbelief. "You're old marine buddy works at a paper supply company?"

"That's only a front."

"For what?" He stops the van as a couple of big guys in suits walk towards us.

"The CIA..."

"Bobby Hawkes..."

I turn in my chair to look at the man as he closes the office door behind him. Hawkes just sits nonchalantly, inspecting his nails. "Jim Bristow. I still can't believe the CIA stooped low enough to let frogmen in the agency."

"You're just jealous we're smart enough to keep jarheads out."

"Hardy har har."

Bristow sits on the edge oh his desk and extends his hand. "Who's your friend?"

"Darren Cole," I say, shaking the offered hand.

"He's my partner."

"That agency of yours actually partnered you up with someone? I knew they were desperate, but geez..."

"Still a comedian, Jim. Too bad you were never a funny one." Despite the insults being thrown about, they never stop grinning like old frat buddies or something.

"So, why the visit? Finally want to pay me that $50 bucks you owe me?"

"More like collect that fifty you owe me. But, no, that's not why we're here."
​

"I didn't really think it was."

"We wanna know why the CIA is bugging me."

"Way to just come right out with it Cole."

"I was getting impatient. You were sure taking your time flirting with your friend."

"What makes you think the CIA even knows who you are?" he asks me. "Why are you worth watching?"

"Well..."

"That's classified."

"I have top clearance, Bobby."

"Not for this."

The smile finally slips from Bristow's face as he realizes just what we're saying. "Really...."

Bobby quickly leans forward. "Now stop right there. Put your curiosity away. Darren is part of the Company and as off limits as the rest of us."

"We work for the CIA?" I say, shocked.

"No, different Company."

"Oh. What's it called?"

Bobby looks at me like I'm slow in the head. "The Company."

"I see you keep your people well informed. But you still haven't told me why you think the CIA is keeping tabs on your friend."

"That's right, I haven't. Now, I'm gonna show you something. And the price for seeing it is keeping everything off the record. You never heard of my partner, and we were never here."

Bristow stands and crosses his arms. "That's a high price. How can I be sure what you have is worth it? If someone is willing to spy on your friend, maybe the Agency should be too."

"That's the price. Take it or leave it."

I've learned that when you're negotiating, it's always best to do it from a position of power. You need leverage over the other side in order to control the negotiations. Otherwise, you're going to find yourself in a bad place, wide open if the deal falls through. Sort of like how Bobby and I just told the CIA I'm someone worth looking into.

Bristow sits behind his desk. "Alright. Let's see what you've got."

And sometimes...it's just enough to make friends with the right people.

Bobby reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the evidence bag. He tosses it on the table. Bristow picks it up casually and starts examining the device inside of the bag. And as he does so, he leans forward, examining the bug much more closely.

"Is this...a 48?"

"It sure ain't bluetooth."

"Someone was using a G-48 to bug your place?" Bristow asks me.

I shrug my shoulders. "If you say so. All I know is that I found that in my apartment."

Bristow shakes his head. "It wasn't us, Bobby. The CIA isn't using the 48's yet. Haven't been cleared by the higher-ups for field work. They don't want to risk them getting out just yet."

"No one is using them?"

"No one. We only just started using the 47's a few months ago. We're still two years out from the 48's, at least."

Bobby motions with his hand, and Bristow throws the bag back to him. "Any idea who would?"

Bristow leans back in his chair. "Not a clue."

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"So, now you know that someone has an edge over the Agency. Think the price is fair now?"

"Definitely. With that intel, I could probably get my superiors to push up when we can start using the 48's ourselves. Of course, if I could hold onto it..." Bristow starts reaching forward.

Hawkes tucks the device away. "Maybe later." He stands up, and I follow suit. "I'm assuming we'll have no problems getting out?"

Bristow grins. "I don't see why you would. Since you were never here."

***

We pull out onto the street, not saying anything to each other for a couple of blocks. Until, finally, I can't keep quiet anymore.

"So..."

"So?"

"Well, if the CIA isn't spying on me...who is? The FBI?"

Hawkes shakes his head. "The Feds are even further behind than the Agency."

"Ok...the NSA?"

"Not their style. If they wanted to spy on you, you'd never know it."

"...comforting thought. Well, who does that leave?"

"Plenty. And you probably haven't heard of half of them."

"Another comforting thought. What's the next step?"

"We report to the Director, and hope he takes it well."

"...we're screwed."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

From behind his desk Alexander Anderson reviews the events of the last several months, and begins to feel sick. For over twenty years he has worked tirelessly to protect the people of America from the threat posed by these so-called "metahumans," both from the creatures themselves, as well as the very knowledge of their existence. ​

The emergence of public "heroes" such as The Blue Blur and Icon has been somewhat problematic, it was nothing that could not be handled. Afterall, the American public, as well as the rest of the world loved their self appointed protectors, so for the most part STRIKE had no need to interfere directly with their activity. The organization did however, keep close tabs on the known metas. But since the alien invasion, the superhumans have apparently come out of the woodwork. The US government even sanctioned a team of so called superheroes, "The Guardians."​

And that is a problem. ​

He has worked so hard for so long to protect the country that he loves from the threat posed by the metahumans, and his own government is suddenly bankrolling a group of them because it is the right thing to do politically at the moment...regardless how foolhardy it is. To give a group of self appointed protectors a blank check to do whatever they want with nothing to regulate them, no real way to keep them in line, is a monumental mistake. ​

A mistake that is going to cost alot of lives. And that is something that he will not stand for.​

With a press of a button, Anderson's computer screen shows a video feed of all the recent metahuman activities all over the world, as well as a superimposed map of the world showing any new reports of meta activity. And as he sees the growing number of incidents involving super powered beings, his stomach turns. He knows that with each and every new incident is another defeat for STRIKE. It is this thought which brings about another, and before he can fully explore this new thought, the buzzer on his desk goes off.​

"Yes, what is it Ms Powers?"​

"Sorry to disturb you Director Anderson, but Mr. Ryder is here to see you."​

"Very well, send him in."​

With that, there is a buzzing sound and the door to his office slides open and Marcus Ryder, Anderson's best friend walks into the lavish room. Anderson and Ryder have been partners and best friends for over twenty five years. They have fought side by side and survived many situations together that would have claimed the lives of lesser men. Above all else, Ryder is the only man on the face of the earth that Anderson trusts completely.​

"Marcus, what have you brought me?"​

Ryder reaches reaches under his vest and produces a folder, tossing it on Anderson's desk.​

"See for yourself, Alex. Afraid it's not good news."​

Anderson briefly scans the report inside the folder before putting aside.​

"It doesn't matter."​

"Sir?" He says, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.​

"It doesn't matter, none of it. We've been at this for a long time, Marcus. And the whole time that we've been dealing with these freaks, we've been doing so with kid gloves. But I think that it's time to take those kid gloves off, to stop dealing with these things as if they're your average criminal. It's time to take these 'people' for what they really are...monsters. I've decided that it is time for STRIKE to take a more proactive role in dealing with the superhuman threat."​

Anderson smiles as he meets Ryder's gaze.​

"Marcus, it's time for STRIKE to show these metahumans just what we are capable of."​

Anderson goes through various reports in the back of the reinforced hummer. Reports of super human activity throughout the world.

Hong Kong, Dublin, London, Tokyo, Sydney, Barcelona all have increased reports of meta human activity. But he isn't overly concerned with them. The metas there are those respective countries problems. However, the rise in meta human activity in New York, Boston, Miami, New Orleans, Los Angeles, and Chicago concern him more. The metahumans in those cities are his problem.

And that is why he has ordered a large contingent of his agents to leave Washington DC and move their base of operations. They are taking the agency to a new location...They will set up shop where all this started in the first place.

S.T.R.I.K.E. is coming to Lost Haven...and things are never going to be the same.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

​

Peter Wallis and Jimmy Davies.

Two of Midas' top enforcers, when there's an important job that can't be screwed up...or some potentially messy wetwork, he sends them. I've been following them all over this city for most of the night knowing that eventually they will lead me to Midas himself.

And if I can finally get to Midas, I can end this.

I've spent the last two hours perched atop the old general store across the street from the nightclub Twisters'. I've heard rumors that it's a front for Midas, only one of many as a matter of fact....and after seeing some of the figures going in and out of the club, I know that it's true.

They'd been inside so long that I would almost be tempted to give up and call it a night, if this weren't such a big opportunity. So I sit atop my pearch and wait. I wait for another forty five minutes before they finally come out again.​

I track them as they slip down an alley beside Twisters' and stop halfway to the end. They begin to working at a manhole cover, and within a few minutes they have it off and have slipped into the sewers below. I silently make my way from the rooftops to the alley, and finally follow them into the depth of the sewers.

Keeping concealed by the shadows, I quietly follow behind Wallis and Davies as they make their way down the sewer. They are talking quietly to one another, and they keep looking back as they go. It is that moment that I come to a realization...they know that I'm here...

Ambush.

So stupid.

Every fiber of my being tells me to get out...now. Suddenly I hear slpashing in the water beside me, and then something violently launches itself at me from the filth. I'm hit by a big fist and then a powerful tail sends me into the water. I scramble to get back onto the maintenance walkway when I look up and see the beast that attacked me...

​

 

[NiteMare Shape]

​

Government Square, Lost Haven


The crowd gathers to watch as the City Council as well as representatives from the Mayor's Office honor 12 victims of the Arlaaekean invasion which were recently uncovered during reconstruction efforts.

Although they bodies have yet to be identified, several community leaders felt that a ceremony for the "Adams Twelve" as they've been dubbed, due to the fact that they were found in the basement of the collapsed Adams Building. And public opinion agreed with them, so efforts were made to get this ceremony organized as quickly as possible.

Many of the people who died in Lost Haven during the alien invasion have never been found, and today this crowd is filled with people who have lost loved ones, hoping that maybe, just maybe one...or in some cases more might be among those found here. Everyone here is looking for some form of closure, looking to put the events of the past year behind them. Though they will never forget, and the pain they feel will never truely go away, they all hope to move on.

Except for one.

Since she was a small girl, she was considered different by her people. She was an outcast, shunned by everyone in her society. Her family tried to lock her away from public view, ashamed of their daughter for being so different. She lived in shame until the day that representatives sent by the Autocrat himself arrived on her doorstep. They took her away from her miserable existence and they gave her life purpose.

She trained with the Arlaaekean military and quickly came to the attention of the supreme commander of the Arlaaekan military machine, Admiral Keelan. He did not look at her differently because she posessed special gifts, he did not shun her because her skin was fair instead of the light blue of the rest of her people. He saw in her a brave soldier who would help bring salvation to her people...he saw a hero of the Arlaaekean people.

As a member of Admiral Keelan's elite unit of super soldiers known as The Dreadnaughts, she had fought side my side with some of the bravest beings she had ever known. Together they fought for the preservation of the Arlaaekean way of life. They conquered world after world, using their resources until there was nothing left and it was time to move on and start again. It was the natural order of the galaxy.

Until they came here.

When they came to Earth, they were met with great resistance. Although the humans fought well, fueled by a will to live that the Arlaaekean war machine had not encountered before, that is not why the humans survived. It was only because of a few so called "superheroes" stood up and fought along side them, using their great power to eventually defeat the invaders.

The defeat of the Arlaaekean fleet was devestating. Not only was Admiral Keelan and the rest of the Dreadnaughts killed, but the mothership....which had served as her home for much of her life had been destroyed when one of Earth's "heroes" turned the Omega Javelin against it.

And in that instant she was suddenly alone in the universe. While many of the other Arlaaekean's had escaped this planet, she was unable to do the same. Her shuttle destroyed, she was stranded. She had been captured by some sort of witch who had attempted to force her into slavery, but she had managed to escape her thrall. However, she now wanders this planet alone, with no real purpose...with no real home.

So she finds herself back in the place where which saw the destruction of her way of life...and for a moment she wonders if anyone had survived on the worlds that she had helped conquer, would they feel what she is feeling now?

She forces the thought from her mind and reminds herself why she is here. She stands here ready to take action against the humans, to get a small measure of revenge on those who ruined her life...against Him...and perhaps if she is lucky, her life will end today and she will at last be with so many of her people.

She takes a deep breath and prepares herself, stepping forward she removes the shawl from her head, allowing her long red hair to hang free.

"For Arlaaek!" She shouts at the top of her lungs.

She begins throwing a scorching flame out onto the crowd, instantly incinerating several people instantly. Panic comes over the crowd and the people begin to run, some trampling one another in order to escape.

As they run, she sends more flame into the crowd and as her victims burn, the smell of charred flesh fills her nostrils, and for the first time in months, she finally feels alive. She continues her assault until she feels something...someone standing not behind her, but above her.

"That's enough!" He shouts unable to hide the anger in his voice.

She slowly turns, and as she lays eyes on the man who destroyed her life, a smile begins to form on her lips.

"Oh no Icon, I'm just getting started."

 

[TrueMastermind]

It's hard at first. My eyelids feel like they weight a ton. All that I can manage to see is just a giant blur. Oh, and the headache. It's as if I got slammed with a truck. But the worst part is trying to figure what the hell just happened.

So let's backtrack. Got confronted by former comrade. Had the cold barrel of a gun pressed against my noggin. Blasted some black **** at attackers, knocking them out. More guns pointed at me. Wall goes kaboom, smoke erupts, and everything goes black. Picture perfect.

"Hey fool! Wake up!"

Huh? Everything starts to clear up, although that fact doesn't help figure out where the hell I am. A face comes into view, the same that appeared to me back in all the smoke.

"Didn't you hear me fool? Wake up!"

Stunned by the harsh, threatening tone of my delightful new acquaintance, I suddenly find the strength to lift my upper half from what seems to be a bed. As I rise, I manage to see more of this guy. Amazingly toned and bulky, this dude looks like he could kick my *** at any given moment. I will be sure to take note of that.

"Alright fool, state your name and why the hell you was with them government cronies!"

Does anybody else realizes the heavy use of the word fool? Anyways, why did this guy get to ask the questions? Apparently, he kidnapped me. And I think that warrants an explanation. But I doubt I was getting one...

"How do you know I wasn't one of them?"

"You trying to get smart with me boy?"

"It's quite simple really. You weren't wearing the traditional STRIKE garb. Plus, the men of their ranks directing their weaponry towards you gave off a clue."

It took me a while to discover where the voice of this new arrival in the conversation was coming from. But when there was nowhere else to look except up, I still remained suprised to find a teenage boy with goggles hanging from the ceiling. Who are these people?

"Yes, I know, how am I up here? Well first off, my name is Garry but everybody arounds here calls me Gecko. You know, because I can stick to walls and stuff. And that joyous indivisual over there goes by the name Rampage. You'll see why later."

I raise my eyebrows without giving a verbal response, instigating him to continue on.

"You see friend, we are just two members of New York's most loved team. You may of heard of us, as we are two of the famous Justice Crusade!"

"Who?"

"Oh stop joking, who doesn't know who the Justice Crusade are?"

"Me."

"No seriously, stop playing around."

"Why would I be playing around?"

"Well, seems like you'll be needing a little lecture..."

This is great. I've been kidnapped by a kid who can stick to walls and a sterotypical black guy who can whoop my *** easily. And now I'm listening to this kid rant on about some silly Justice Crusade. When I was a kid, I read about the Avengers and the Defenders in comic books, but I've never heard of any real superhero team. There hadn't even been that many superheroes until a while back.

"You see, the Justice Crusade are the true defenders of New York, the official protectors of this city."

"What about Paladin?"

"Don't mention that pansy!" Hostility towards the city's symbolic guardian? Hmm...

"Oh please, what has Paladin done for this city?" Well, I'm afraid if I name them, King Kong over there is gonna pound me into the cement. So I'll just keep my mouth shut.

"Hey! Who's that feller?" Turning my head to see the source of the heavy Texan accent, I see a towering, muscular man donning a ten-gallon cowboy hat walking this way. Great. Another guy who could likely pound my face in.

"Here comes the hick..." Rampage whispered before the cowboy got into listening distance. Something says that Rampage isn't too cool with the new arrival.

"Oh, Hank this is...what's your name again pal?" I chuckle at them going so long without asking me my name.

"Carson."

"Yes! As you might have already concluded, this is Carson! And Carson, this is Hank!" The kid's awfully joyful manner didn't make me enjoy this situation any more. Seeing that the Texan had outstretched his hand for a handshake, I cooperated and delivered a firm handshake. Weirdly, the tall man quickly pulled his hand back.

"Ouch! Looks like you got a little strength there. So what are you doing here?"

"We found STRIKE attacking the guy and wondering why, we took him here."

"And why wasn't I invited on this little mission?"

"You were asleep; along with most of the Crusade. I know you don't like to be waken up early."

"Your darn tootin I don't!"

With no explanation why, Hank simply walks away, leaving the three of us in confusion.

"It's time you meet the rest of the guys..."

 

[Eddie Brock]

An alien from another world, the last of his kind, fighting for truth, justice, and the American way. An orphan, forced to watch the death of his parents, sworn to rid the city of the evil that took their lives. A confused teenager, granted powers beyond his wildest dreams, haunted by his own irresponsibility and determined to right his wrongs. These are the stories I grew up reading. Fantastic journeys on glossy pages, epic battles told through speech bubbles. In the end, though, they were just stories.

Or so the world thought.

In the past few years, real superhumans have emerged. Men and women capable of unimaginable feats of strength and power. Newspaper headlines read like the front page of a comic book now. In recent days, our world was pushed to the brink. An alien threat jeopardized the fate of our race, but it was ultimately vanquished by real-life superheroes - each of them even more fantastical than the creations of Siegel, Kane, and Lee.

And then, there's me.

Phillip James Farley. Aged twenty-eight years. Graduated from Lost Haven University with a B.S. in computer science. Currently work in a cubicle farm for a private company. Job's so boring, I'll spare you the details. Currently residing in a two room apartment - three rooms if you count the closet-sized bathroom. Single, never married.

When did this become my life? I moved to the big city to make something of myself. Instead, I got swallowed up in mediocrity and underachievement. And the worst part? It never really fazed me. My therapist - during the grand total of three sessions I actually attended - said I was "sleepwalking through life." Then, all of a sudden, they arrived.

Icon, Blue Blur, Survivor, Archangel, Blacklight.

These larger-than-life figures were like something out of the comic books I so avidly read and collected. (Regardless of what anyone says, to this day I remain proud of owning the entire run of Spawn.) They were the living embodiment of every prepubescent boy's dream. These men - and the occasional woman - could lift mountains, race around the world in five minutes, and take to the skies, going only where birds have had the privilege of going.

Which got me thinking, what have I done of any value to the world?

The short answer is "nothing." The long answer is "virtually nothing." Either way, it became clear to me that I wasn't happy. Maybe I hadn't been happy in a long, long time. Maybe I'd never been happy. (Okay, that's a lie. I met Carmen Electra once. That made me happy.) Ultimately, though, something changed in me. For the first time in my life, I had ambition. I had a goal. It was crystal clear to me, as if it had been there all along.

"I'm going to be a superhero," I announced to myself one day over a bowl of Frosted Flakes.

And that's how I made my decision.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Government Square, Lost Haven


The crowd gathers to watch as the City Council as well as representatives from the Mayor's Office honor 12 victims of the Arlaaekean invasion which were recently uncovered during reconstruction efforts.

Although they bodies have yet to be identified, several community leaders felt that a ceremony for the "Adams Twelve" as they've been dubbed, due to the fact that they were found in the basement of the collapsed Adams Building. And public opinion agreed with them, so efforts were made to get this ceremony organized as quickly as possible.

Many of the people who died in Lost Haven during the alien invasion have never been found, and today this crowd is filled with people who have lost loved ones, hoping that maybe, just maybe one...or in some cases more might be among those found here. Everyone here is looking for some form of closure, looking to put the events of the past year behind them. Though they will never forget, and the pain they feel will never truely go away, they all hope to move on.

Except for one.

Since she was a small girl, she was considered different by her people. She was an outcast, shunned by everyone in her society. Her family tried to lock her away from public view, ashamed of their daughter for being so different. She lived in shame until the day that representatives sent by the Autocrat himself arrived on her doorstep. They took her away from her miserable existence and they gave her life purpose.

She trained with the Arlaaekean military and quickly came to the attention of the supreme commander of the Arlaaekan military machine, Admiral Keelan. He did not look at her differently because she posessed special gifts, he did not shun her because her skin was fair instead of the light blue of the rest of her people. He saw in her a brave soldier who would help bring salvation to her people...he saw a hero of the Arlaaekean people.

As a member of Admiral Keelan's elite unit of super soldiers known as The Dreadnaughts, she had fought side my side with some of the bravest beings she had ever known. Together they fought for the preservation of the Arlaaekean way of life. They conquered world after world, using their resources until there was nothing left and it was time to move on and start again. It was the natural order of the galaxy.

Until they came here.

When they came to Earth, they were met with great resistance. Although the humans fought well, fueled by a will to live that the Arlaaekean war machine had not encountered before, that is not why the humans survived. It was only because of a few so called "superheroes" stood up and fought along side them, using their great power to eventually defeat the invaders.

The defeat of the Arlaaekean fleet was devestating. Not only was Admiral Keelan and the rest of the Dreadnaughts killed, but the mothership....which had served as her home for much of her life had been destroyed when one of Earth's "heroes" turned the Omega Javelin against it.

And in that instant she was suddenly alone in the universe. While many of the other Arlaaekean's had escaped this planet, she was unable to do the same. Her shuttle destroyed, she was stranded. She had been captured by some sort of witch who had attempted to force her into slavery, but she had managed to escape her thrall. However, she now wanders this planet alone, with no real purpose...with no real home.

So she finds herself back in the place where which saw the destruction of her way of life...and for a moment she wonders if anyone had survived on the worlds that she had helped conquer, would they feel what she is feeling now?

She forces the thought from her mind and reminds herself why she is here. She stands here ready to take action against the humans, to get a small measure of revenge on those who ruined her life...against Him...and perhaps if she is lucky, her life will end today and she will at last be with so many of her people.

She takes a deep breath and prepares herself, stepping forward she removes the shawl from her head, allowing her long red hair to hang free.

"For Arlaaek!" She shouts at the top of her lungs.

She begins throwing a scorching flame out onto the crowd, instantly incinerating several people instantly. Panic comes over the crowd and the people begin to run, some trampling one another in order to escape.

As they run, she sends more flame into the crowd and as her victims burn, the smell of charred flesh fills her nostrils, and for the first time in months, she finally feels alive. She continues her assault until she feels something...someone standing not behind her, but above her.

"That's enough!" He shouts unable to hide the anger in his voice.

She slowly turns, and as she lays eyes on the man who destroyed her life, a smile begins to form on her lips.

"Oh no Icon, I'm just getting started."

She pulls back and throws several large fireballs at Icon, each having very little effect other than providing a distraction. While he is distracted, she takes to the skies and hits him with a hard uppercut, followed by a flurry of fash punches. The punches, reinforced with flame stagger Icon, and eventually knock him to the ground.

Icon quickly gets to his feet, however Singe rushes at him again. As she is about to hit him with another blow, he reaches out and grabs her by the neck, holding her inches off the ground with one hand.

"Stop this, now. The war is over, there's no need to keep fighting."

She doesn't respond, instead she closes her eyes and concentrates. As she does, her body begins to glow. Within seconds, her body is completely engulfed by a white hot flame. With Icon momentarily blinded by the sudden onslaught of intense heat, Singe is able to escape from his grasp.

Icon stumbles backward, still blinded by the sudden explosion of white hot flame. Singe does not relate, she delivers a hard knee to his midsection followed up by a right hand that sends Icon to the ground again.

"You ruined everything. You destroyed my life...my family...my entire race. You say that there's no need to keep fighting...I say that I'll never stop, not until every man, woman and child of Arlaaek who you helped to damn is avenged. I'll never stop until you are dead."

Icon is about to respond when he notices a small group of people who have gathered to watch the fight...right around the same time Singe notices them.

"Now you can watch me destroy these people...just like I watched you destroy mine!" She says as she turns toward the spectators, her fists glowing as she prepares to launch a massive fireball at them.

 

[Blacklight]

Chapter 2...
​

"Many eons ago..." the Master of Light began, "my brother and I were at war for the control of one of the Multiverse's greatest sources of power..."

"What is it?" Orangelight asked her. The Goddess of Light turned away from the group, before picking up where she left off.

"The Multiverse is like a spectrum. Each world different from the next as if they were colors of a singular light. As if the universe used to be one, but then the Great Prism separated it..."

"The Great Prism?" Violetlight inquired.

"Yes. The Great Prism. A structure so powerful that whoever was to control it would have dominance over all existence, for it is an axis that keeps the many dimensions that form the multiverse apart and keeps the worlds from merging and compacting together before this singular universe eventually tears the fabric of reality apart, enveloping everything in eternal darkness."

The Blacklights of different universes all gave looks of awe and shock at the picture her tale was painting in their minds.

"As I was saying before, my brother tried to seize it's power prior... That was until I managed to use my power to move it elsewhere, and convincing him I had destroyed it and forcing him into a truce. But I fear he has found it's location, and has sent his Harbingers to bring it to him."

"We gotta stop them!" Greenlight exclaimed, pounding his fists together.

"Clearly that's why she's assembled us..." Redlight sarcastically remarked.

"This is the case. I have chosen you all to be my champions, and you... Blacklight, are to lead this group in defeating my brother's 7 soldiers of darkness and protecting the Great Prism."

Blacklight then stepped forward, his fists clenched to signify his readiness.

"Yes, Master of Light. I won't let you down."

"Wait a sec... What makes him so fit to lead? I should be leader..."

"Hmph... I should."

"No. ME!"

"I should!"

"Definitely not!"

"Logic dictates I would be most suitable..."

[BLACKOUT]"Gentlemen, please. I think the Goddess knows what she's doing. I for one, trust her judgment. So should all of you. She wouldn't risk the universe by picking an unsuitable leader..."[/BLACKOUT]

"Thank you, Yellowlight. He is right. I have my reasons for choosing Blacklight over the rest of you to lead. Reasons that I cannot explain at the moment, for time is of the essence. You all must get to the Prism post-haste!"

"Fine..." Redlight said as he took flight and headed out of the Hall and into the vast world of the Light.

"Hurm..." Bluelight grunted as he followed suit.

"Whatever..." Greenlight reluctantly agreed, following the others. Orange, Violet and Yellowlight then took off next, leaving Indigolight the only one of Jon's multicolor counterparts left.

"Up, up and AWAY!!" Indigolight exclaimed in a camp fashion, before bringing up the tail end of the group.

Seeing all of them leave before he did and as evidenced by the lack of enthusiasm of being under his leadership, Jon sighed, his palm hitting his forehead.

"This is so not ideal..."

"What troubles you, my Champion of Light?"

"Did you not see that? What makes you think they'll listen to me? And they have a point. What makes me so fit to be leader?"

"Jonathan, have you not realized how each of these versions of you from alternate dimensions differs from yourself?"

"Not really... Aside from them each being a different color of the rainbow, we all have the same powers. Aesthetically we're all the same."

"Ah, but you're not... You are all different as much as you are the same. The differences lie within your personalities. You, however, are a perfect balance of the main traits that stick out amongst each one of your alternate selves. That is why I've chosen you, Blacklight. You, like the color you represent, are devoid of any imbalances that can cause your judgment to be clouded. You will be the one who knows what to do when the time comes..."

Hearing her speech, Jon smirked. It was a vote of confidence if he ever heard one.

"I won't let you down, Goddess of Light."

"Good. I know you to be one who always keeps his promises. But be careful... The Master of Darkness. His Harbingers. They will singlehandedly be the toughest foes you will ever face."

"I'm ready. Besides..." Blacklight started to assure her as he began to levitate, preparing to catch up to the others, "...I'm already dead, remember?"

Jon smiled, and the Master of Light smiled back. Jon then set off towards his trek to intercept the Great Prism, and defeat the Master of Darkness' Harbingers. But one question remained in his mind. A question that came to him when he realized the other 7 in his group were alive and well...

What happens to me when this is all over?

 

[Eddie Brock]

(Currently not-so)
AMAZING MAN!

Becoming a superhero is harder than you'd think.

I mean, a lot of the typical "superhero origin" stuff is out of my control. Unfortunately, Vermont doesn't qualify as a distant planet, and I'm certainly not the last survivor from it. My parents are alive and well and living in early retirement in Florida, so I don't think they'd want to be bothered with my avenging them. The closest thing to a "mutant gene" in my family is my Aunt Rosie's multicolored eyes. And until that Green Lantern Corps. ring finds me, I'm sorta stuck there.

I coaxed a spider into biting me, but that just left me with itchy, red swelling. I thought about finding some radioactive waste, but after a quick trip to Google I decided that it wasn't worth cancer or death. I signed up for karate at a local dojo, but after about two classes I realized that they were only going to teach us self-defense and not how to subdue a grown man with a pair of chopsticks or something cool like that. Then, when I tried to teach myself how to channel my "chi," I got bored after about ten minutes and watched a Spike TV Star Wars marathon.

So things weren't going so well. But for the first time in my life, I wasn't going to be denied. I had a goal, and I was going to pursue it. Being a superhero was the only thing that made sense. I mean, I had practically been training my whole life for this. So maybe I didn't have superpowers (or really any distinguishing skills of any kind), but why should that stop me? Surely, there had to be a way.

What would Reed Richards do? I asked myself. And after a few days of thinking, the answer became crystal clear to me.

Craigslist.

I click on Activities under the Community heading. Seems like as good a place as any to place this. Now, I have to be discreet enough that my intentions won't be discovered by just anybody, but I need to get my point across somehow. Cracking my knuckles, I get to work on my ad.

Looking for someone who wants to make a difference... (Lost Haven)

Date: 2010-07-27, 1:18AM EDT
Reply to: [email protected]

I am embarking on an ambitious venture to help make our city/world a better place to live. I am looking for someone who isn't afraid to dream big who can provide me with the power and the tools I need. If you want to stand on the shoulders of giants with me, contact me at this ad. Excelsior!

• Location: Lost Haven
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 1938060122

 

[Hound55]

Isaac writhed in the bath in his unconscious state, his body trying to protect itself better than he could in a state of awareness. His body in internal turmoil, whilst pleasant memories which normally seemed so many miles away brought a smile to his face as they flashed behind his eyes as if by some nostalgic projectionist...

Isaac found himself sitting in a casket in darkness. It was a place he’d never seen before, pitch black yet somehow lit to allow partial visibility, despite the obvious contradiction. The more he concentrated on the darkness the darker it would be and the more he concentrated on that which he could see the more it grew out from the obscurity of the unrelenting abyss.

Not knowing where he was his first instinct was to inspect his surroundings to try and find his way out. He leaned over the side and looked down; 20 yards below he could see an oddly familiar sight. A figure dressed in black, he was clearly distressed in his casket as he panicked about a rising black fluid which from Isaac’s position he could clearly see was of the man’s own making. Thrashing around, the man gave a final gargle looking up. Isaac coughed and spluttered a little at the sight as he recognised the face of the man beneath him.

It was Isaac. Despite the mask, he could clearly recognise himself.

Trying to get a better look at what was happening below; Isaac squinted and focused on the happenings beneath as they came clearer from the darkness. The first thing he realised was that the colourless area the man beneath was reclining in was actually a bath, Isaac pulled back a little when he realised this and rubbing his hands against the side he became further perplexed when he realised the casket he had been sitting in had somehow become a bath.

[BLACKOUT]“But what could… No!”[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac looked over the side, panicked. His eyes scanning the pitch black of the abyss beneath him and finding nothing. Isaac… the man… he’d been completely swallowed up, the bath and all. Horrified that his doppelganger had just been completely lost, devoured by the nothingness, he coughed and spluttered again. Then more. Then finally he couldn’t contain what was lying within anymore. He doubled up and vomited, trying to avoid his own legs, but this was impossible.

Isaac purged a stream of black gunk, he couldn’t keep it within. He frisked around his legs looking for the plug which he would never find.

There can be no plug when there is no drain. His face held disgust with the dark sludge he resided in as he saw the level slowly rise. He watched as the sides of the bath grew up and away from him.

[BLACKOUT]“Ugh…”[/BLACKOUT] He mouthed in disgust all the while more black bile spouted from his face, while he sat in complete indignation, trying in vain to splash the substance over the impossibly high sides of the bath. Isaac began to grow fearful, he reached up high for the side of the bath and his hand crashed against an invisible glass or Perspex ceiling.

As he felt this ceiling he grew scared, there was no way of getting this stuff out of the bath and yet somehow this black stuff was multiplying or reproducing, he thought to himself whist the oozing darkness continued to cascade from his face. There’s more of it than I can fight… And I can’t get out…

The entire situation seemed vaguely familiar and yet Isaac could not remember from where or when.

The black goo was now filling up most of the bath, to the extent where Isaac was now forced to float on top of it in order to survive. He could no longer use his entire arms in an attempt to splash the stuff over the side anymore for fear of sinking and now could only feebly flick small amounts towards the side, which would invariably hit the transparent ceiling and drop back into the bath again.

Five seconds later his chest and masked cheek were pressed up against the ceiling as the blackness enveloped him. With a final weak attempt to leave a legacy he attempted to leave a scream… let his howl resonate in the empty darkness, but as he faced the sky and the darkness swallowed him all he could let out was a feeble gargle. As it hit the back of his throat it left a slight tangy sensation.

[BLACKOUT]“GAAAAH!!!”[/BLACKOUT]

A naked Isaac awoke with an explosive shout. His mask all the clothing he had, was fraying slightly in places as the stitching had dissolved from the fluid he bathed in. He spat and stuck his tongue out instinctively as he had a trace in his mouth of the fluid he'd been bathing in.

Vinegar. Only vinegar.

The tangy acid far less corrosive than the substance that haunted his nightmare.

His heart still pumped within his chest from the vivid dream, while he inspected the parts of his body that were not obscured by the mask. He breathed a sigh of relief and clasped his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms and running his hands upwards and then in a circle, rubbing both cheeks beneath the mask and then resting with his hands tenting his nose, using his fingers to rub the bridge of his nose just between his eyes.

With more of the dream washing from his mind with every second, he turned and let the plug out of the bath and left the bathroom. The only sounds; the gurgle of the draining vinegar and the sound of the empty drum Isaac dragged behind him.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

She pulls back and throws several large fireballs at Icon, each having very little effect other than providing a distraction. While he is distracted, she takes to the skies and hits him with a hard uppercut, followed by a flurry of fash punches. The punches, reinforced with flame stagger Icon, and eventually knock him to the ground.

Icon quickly gets to his feet, however Singe rushes at him again. As she is about to hit him with another blow, he reaches out and grabs her by the neck, holding her inches off the ground with one hand.

"Stop this, now. The war is over, there's no need to keep fighting."

She doesn't respond, instead she closes her eyes and concentrates. As she does, her body begins to glow. Within seconds, her body is completely engulfed by a white hot flame. With Icon momentarily blinded by the sudden onslaught of intense heat, Singe is able to escape from his grasp.

Icon stumbles backward, still blinded by the sudden explosion of white hot flame. Singe does not relate, she delivers a hard knee to his midsection followed up by a right hand that sends Icon to the ground again.

"You ruined everything. You destroyed my life...my family...my entire race. You say that there's no need to keep fighting...I say that I'll never stop, not until every man, woman and child of Arlaaek who you helped to damn is avenged. I'll never stop until you are dead."

Icon is about to respond when he notices a small group of people who have gathered to watch the fight...right around the same time Singe notices them.

"Now you can watch me destroy these people...just like I watched you destroy mine!" She says as she turns toward the spectators, her fists glowing as she prepares to launch a massive fireball at them.

Singe prepares to send the fireball into the crowd of spectators, however, Icon gets to her in time...barely.

"NO!" He shouts as he grabs her by the arm, hurling her through a parked minivan. She crashes through the side of the vehicle, coming out the other side, where she rolls to a stop on the street.

Icon makes his way over to where she lay, and is about to haul her to her feet when she throws a small fireball in his face. The fireball doesn't do any harm, however it distracts him momentarily. Singe takes the advantage presented by the momentary distraction and pulls a nearby manhold cover from the ground.

As Icon regains his composure, she uses the manhole cover as a weapon. Using her own extraordinary body tempurature, she superheats the manhole cover and hits Icon in the face with it. Upon impact, the cover exploded in a shower of molten metal, blinding Icon momentarily.

Singe moves in, kneeing Icon in the midsection, then using his bodyweight to her advantage, hurls him into a nearby bus stop shelter.

As Icon lays in the debris of shattered glass, plastic and wood, Singe again begins to prepare to discharge a massive wave of flames at the spectators standing nearby.

Icon looks over and sees her getting ready to strike, and decides that it is time to end this...now. He gets to his feet and immediately launches himself at her. Knowing that the only way to put out a fire is to deprive it of oxygen, he grabs her by the waist and takes to the skies. Clutching Singe, Icon rockets through the sky until he reaches the lower portions of the atmosphere where the air is at its thinnest. After a few moments, the red flame surrounding Singe's body burns out, and she is left in a state of unconsciousness.

When Icon descends from the skies, he sees that the seen has been contained. Several black SUV's have arrived on the scene along with a familiar transport vehicle...STRIKE.

He was suprised when their existance was confirmed in the days following the invasion, however he was not surprised that they effectively vanished again days later. But here they are now, waiting for him to land.

The last time he came across these men, he nearly came to blows with one of their metas when they tried to take custody of Flux. He was not going to allow it, and their enforcer...a young man named Spartan had taken offense to that. It was only when one of the officers stepped in, did cooler heads prevail. And here they are again, looking to clean up after he has already done the hard part.

"We'll take her Icon." says one of th officers as he jogs up to where Icon is standing with Singe in his arms.

"Be my guest. You know, we really need to stop meeting like this."

"That's not likely to happen anytime soon, flyboy."

Icon just nods and hands over the limp body of Singe, then takes to the skies, leaving the scene behind. As Icon flew away, the conversation that he had with the STRIKE officer keeps playing over and over in his mind, and as he thinks about not only the man's words, but the way he said it, Icon suddenly feels very uneasy...almost as if there is something in motion, but he doesn't know what it is.

 

[wiegeabo]

"So you made no progress."

"Well, I wouldn't say that."

"Yeah, we made...progress."

"Definitely...some progress."

"Right. Exactly."

The Director looks at us unconvinced. "Like?"

"Well..."

"We..."

"The CIA."

"Yes, exactly! The CIA." The Director continues to stare. "We...talked to them."

"An old buddy of mine. He had no idea who Darren was."

"Right. None at all. The CIA wasn't bugging my place."

"So they're out."

"And so's the FBI, right?"

"Yes. And the NSA. Although getting them to admit that sure wasn't easy."

"You're not kidding. I mean, I had to-" I notice The Director's eyes darken slightly. "-convince them, in the nicest possible manner, to tell us?"

Hawkes and I glance at each other. "So, we've made progress." The Director says nothing. Just glares for a long time. Hawkes and I both look at each and shrug our shoulders-

"Progress?!"

We both jump at the sheer volume of The Director's voice, not to mention the anger.

"You eliminate three agencies and that's your definition of progress?"

"Well, sir...they are the biggest agencies."

"In this country."

We look at each other again. "You...want us to check the agencies of other countries?"

"If necessary."

I'm actually at a loss for words. But I see the gears spinning around in Hawke's mind. "Sure, Director. We can do that."

The Director smiles a little. "Good-"

"If you'll just authorize the expenses."

"...Expenses?"

"Well, we won't get much done around here. The embassy in DC are too well guarded, even for an invisible man. We'd need to travel to some other embassies, less secure embassies. And then, because they're out of the way, and might not have what we need, we'd likely have to do some serious globetrotting..."

The Director inhales and slowly lets out his breath and clearing his throat. "Well..., I wouldn't want to risk an international incident."

Or spend any money.

He sighs again. "I didn't want it to come down to this...but I'll make a call. See what I can find out."

I look over at Hawkes. The Fatman's going to do some actual work?

He looks at me. Anything to save a buck.

The Director looks at both of us. "Well...?" We sit there, confused. "Leave."

"Right."

"Gone."

***

The Director waits until his agents leave the room, rolling his eyes the second the door closes behind them. He opens the bottom drawer of his desk, and pulls away the hidden panel. Dialing the combination into the safe, he opens it and pulls out his special book of numbers. Numbers and names too sensitive to trust to even the most secure computers system. Funny how a simple piece of paper can be more cost effective then millions of dollars of hardware and software.

Flipping to the correct page, he picks up his phone. He had promised himself never to call this number again, a number to which only he had access. But sometimes promises have to be broken.

"Alberts," The Director says into the phone.

"Sir," Alberts says from the other end.

"I need a secure line. Alpha connection protocol."

"Alpha, sir?"

"Yes, Alpha. Is there a problem?"

No, sir!" Alberts says quickly. There's an odd sound for a moment on the phone. "Line secured with Alpha protocol, sir."

"Very good....hang up, Alberts."

"Oh, yes, sir. Of course." The line goes dead and The Director rolls his eyes again. He dials the number. There are four rings, and then he hears the same noise made when Alberts secured the line.

"Hello, Director. How may I help you?"

"I'd like to speak to Him, please. It's important."

"Certainly, sir. It will just be a minute as I see if he is available."

"Tell him 'I know'. I'm sure he'll be available."

 

[sabetoonth]

“Oh my god!” Elijah said as he saw the bodies being carried out. Mitch put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“You don’t need to see this man.” Elijah sliped out from under his hand.


“Yes I do.” Elijah slipped under the tape and walked right by a pair of officers.


“Sir, we’re gonna ask you to get on the other side of the tape.” One aid to
him, Elijah kept walking.


“I need to see this.” Elijah said, just then a massive head ache racked his brain and he collapsed to his knees clutching his cranium. “AHHHH!” this time the flashback was painful. Images of gore, dismemberment and agony where strung before his mind’s eye as if they where photographs hanging on the wall before him.

“Sir?” the other officer said approaching Elijah carefully. Elijah clenched his teeth and forced his eyes shut. Elijah suddenly fell to the ground unconscious.

“El!” Mitch ducked under the yellow tape and sped to his friend, an officer grabbed him as another radioed for a bus. “Let me go he’s my friend!” He said as he watched the police huddle around Elijah

[Hell, Approximately 30 Years Ago]
He began by marking the doors in his own blood, then marking his own arm. His breathe quickened, his nostrils flared. A loud churning and chunking sound eminated from his shoulder as he clenched it and pulled the limb away from his body. An inhuman howl echoed through the realm and the mass of flesh writhed on the ground soaking it in blood.

“Grow, and leave this place to spread my will Satan.”

“Eli, you awake dude?”

“What the **** happened?” He said still feeling groggy and seeing blurs in motion.

“You passed out, nothin brought ya around, that was this morning, man.” Mitch wasn’t very far away, infact he was standing right there, but Eli’s sight hadnt quite returned, so he couldn’t really see him.

“This morning? What time is it?”

“Its 7 o’clock man, had to call in a sick day to be here for ya dude.” Seriously? He called in sick to work to watch over his buddy. Damn now that’s a friend.

“You can go home Mitch, I’ll be fine over night.” Eli reassured his friend. Wearily Mitch said his goodbyes, and left Eli’s bedside.
*******
The halls where dark, the lights dim. A sloitary shadow moved through the labrinth of corridors.

Elijah breathed heavily, not fast, but his breaths where harder. He thought about dreaming, about nice things, about life. but then a feeling of despair shadowed it all. He fell, suddenly he fell from the sky, a black cloudy sky with no light. Below he smelled sulfer, and he saw the glow of flames, and he thought- “Am I in Hell?”

“GAH!” Elijah gaspe s he woke from the nightmare, horrific things did he see.

“Not Hell, not yet.” A voice said from just out of Elijah’s sight.

“Who are you? Where is everyone?” He hurredly asked.

“Still here, I did this little trick whre I kinda plucked us out of reality and into a time pocket allowing us privacy.” Elijah sat up, it was an old man, 70-80 something years old, a gaunt face that reminded one of a skull. “As for who I am,” he began. “I am your new teacher.”

 

[NiteMare Shape]

From behind his desk, Anderson goes through the plans for the operations that have been scheduled to be undertaken over the next several weeks. As he carefully reads the plans that have been laid out before him, a sense of satisfaction washes over his entire being.

Finally.

The plans on his desk detail several operations that are significantly larger in scale than any previous operations. For far too long, STRIKE has been handcuffed by beaurocracy, they have been forced to work under the radar...to put out little fires when they pop up, all the while ignoring the raging inferno right in front of their faces.

But the alien invasion had changed all that. President Blake had let the existence of the organization slip during an interview, a move that may have been more than an inadvertant slip up on his part. There had even been several articals written about the agency, fortunately they had been very vague, and contained more information derived from the writer's imagination and general assumptions than actual facts. In fact, the organization had largely been forgotten by most of the general population, aside from your average conspiracy theorist and other fringe members of society.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Well, not for much longer. The operations that have been planned by some of the best strategists working for the agency, and approved by him will certainly change things...and soon. The recent reimergence of one of the Arlaaekean elite "Dreadnaughts" has given him the opportunity to take things to the next level...an opportunity that he will not squander.

"Hello, Director. How may I help you?"

"I'd like to speak to Him, please. It's important."

"Certainly, sir. It will just be a minute as I see if he is available."

"Tell him 'I know'. I'm sure he'll be available."

Suddenly, the doors to Anderson's office slam open and Elizabeth Powers, his personal assistant storms in.

"What is it Ms Powers? I thought I said I did not want to be disturbed."

"I'm sorry for the interruption Director Anderson, however an urgent call has come in for you...on the secure line."

Anderson exhales loudly as he reached for a secret compartment in his desk, and produces a phone. He is not looking forward to taking this call, as he truely hates intra-agency interaction...it is rarely pleasant.

He picks up the phone, putting the receiver to his face, and makes an effort to at least sound pleasantly surprised to hear from one of his contemporaries.

"Good evening D, what can I do for you?"

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Peter Wallis and Jimmy Davies.​

Two of Midas' top enforcers, when there's an important job that can't be screwed up...or some potentially messy wetwork, he sends them. I've been following them all over this city for most of the night knowing that eventually they will lead me to Midas himself.​

And if I can finally get to Midas, I can end this.​

I've spent the last two hours perched atop the old general store across the street from the nightclub Twisters'. I've heard rumors that it's a front for Midas, only one of many as a matter of fact....and after seeing some of the figures going in and out of the club, I know that it's true.​

They'd been inside so long that I would almost be tempted to give up and call it a night, if this weren't such a big opportunity. So I sit atop my pearch and wait. I wait for another forty five minutes before they finally come out again.​

I track them as they slip down an alley beside Twisters' and stop halfway to the end. They begin to working at a manhole cover, and within a few minutes they have it off and have slipped into the sewers below. I silently make my way from the rooftops to the alley, and finally follow them into the depth of the sewers.

Keeping concealed by the shadows, I quietly follow behind Wallis and Davies as they make their way down the sewer. They are talking quietly to one another, and they keep looking back as they go. It is that moment that I come to a realization...they know that I'm here...

Ambush.

So stupid.

Every fiber of my being tells me to get out...now. Suddenly I hear slpashing in the water beside me, and then something violently launches itself at me from the filth. I'm hit by a big fist and then a powerful tail sends me into the water. I scramble to get back onto the maintenance walkway when I look up and see the beast that attacked me...

I try to size up my attacker even as I scramble to my feet, and I find myself almost in awe of its sheer size. The "man" stands about seven feet tall, has the skin of an alligator and a long, powerful tail.

I've barely gotten to my feet when the beast lunges at me. I jump to the side, barely keeping out of its grasp, however, I've barely gotten both feet on the ground again when it turns and swings its tail, catching me in the midsection.

He's fast. I've just hit the ground and it's on me again, scratching and clawing, and snapping it's mouthfull of razor sharp teeth just inches from my face. I struggle to get the beast off me, but he's just too strong...and on top of that he's using his weight to his advantage.

I'm able to land a right hand on the beast's jaw, which surprises him. He hesitates for a moment, then leans back...hoping to land the killing blow. However, I'm able to pull my legs up and against his chset and kick with all my might. The beast is knocked back, and I'm able to get to my feet.

Someone once told me that I always need to be aware of my surroundings, and if I can use them to my advantage. Unfortunately for me, in this case the narrow passages of the city sewers plays to the creatures advantages, so I do the only thing I can do...

Run...and hope that I can lead him somewhere alittle more open.

 

[sabetoonth]

“Eli, you awake dude?”

“What the **** happened?” He said still feeling groggy and seeing blurs in motion.

“You passed out, nothin brought ya around, that was this morning, man.” Mitch wasn’t very far away, infact he was standing right there, but Eli’s sight hadnt quite returned, so he couldn’t really see him.

“This morning? What time is it?”

“Its 7 o’clock man, had to call in a sick day to be here for ya dude.” Seriously? He called in sick to work to watch over his buddy. Damn now that’s a friend.

“You can go home Mitch, I’ll be fine over night.” Eli reassured his friend. Wearily Mitch said his goodbyes, and left Eli’s bedside.
*******
The halls where dark, the lights dim. A sloitary shadow moved through the labrinth of corridors.

Elijah breathed heavily, not fast, but his breaths where harder. He thought about dreaming, about nice things, about life. but then a feeling of despair shadowed it all. He fell, suddenly he fell from the sky, a black cloudy sky with no light. Below he smelled sulfer, and he saw the glow of flames, and he thought- “Am I in Hell?”

“GAH!” Elijah gaspe s he woke from the nightmare, horrific things did he see.

“Not Hell, not yet.” A voice said from just out of Elijah’s sight.

“Who are you? Where is everyone?” He hurredly asked.

“Still here, I did this little trick whre I kinda plucked us out of reality and into a time pocket allowing us privacy.” Elijah sat up, it was an old man, 70-80 something years old, a gaint face that reminded one of a skull. “As for who I am,” he began. “I am your new teacher.”

“Teacher? For what?” Elijah asked this strange old man.

“Your future Elijah.” 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.

“Weird old man.” He murmured laying his head on the pillow before fading back to sleep.
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.

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

“Hello Elijah.” It was the old man again.

“What do you want?” he said gruffly.

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

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

“Elijah, if you want answers, to everything you’ve wondered about yourself, follow me.” 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.

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

 

[Eddie Brock]

(Still not-so)
AMAZING MAN!

It's been a few weeks since my Craigslist posting, and I've reached one infallible conclusion. The internet is full of perverts. I mean, I posted this in the Activities section for Nolan's sake! How can people take something as pure and innocent as trying to save the world and turn it into something twisted and dirty? Okay, so maybe I set them up perfectly with the "power and tools" line, but have they no decency?!

"Whatcha doin'?"

I minimize my email and spin around in my chair - which is still just as fun as it was when I was seven. Standing at the entrance to my cubicle (or, as I call it, the Three Walls of Death) is Kevin Korver, my fellow worker, fellow slacker, fellow comic book aficionado. He's wearing a powder blue shirt with a mustard colored tie. Note that I did not include "fellow fashionista" in my description of Kevin.

"Oh, nothing," I lie. Kevin was the first person I told about my master plan. It took him all of about ten seconds to shoot it down. I had thought that he, of all people, would have faith in me.

"Did you get that expense report done for Mr. Turkin?" he asks.

Allow me to pause from my narrative for a moment to describe to you our boss, Mr. Turkin. This is a man whose face is still baby smooth because he never wrinkled it up with emotion. Yet, somehow, he's still able to convey his unfailing disappointment in your very existence. After accusing me of "ogling" (his word, not mine) his sixteen year-old daughter's photograph, he wrapped up my job interview by telling me that:

A. He didn't like me.
B. My suit looked like I bought it from Goodwill during a power outage. (Again, his words, not mine.)
C. I wasn't qualified for the job.
D. No one else had applied, so he was hiring me.

So you can imagine my reaction when I realized, just now, that I had failed (yet again) to perform one of my duties. "S***." (My word this time.)

Kevin shakes his head, undoubtedly feeling my pain but silently thanking Krishna the Supreme Being that he wasn't in my position. "You've been a good friend, Phil. I'll be taking your stapler when you're gone," he informs me solemnly. Then, nodding to my screen, he asks again, "Seriously, what are you working on, then?"

To give you an idea of my lying skills, I once explained to Mr. Turkin that I was late to work because I hit a deer.

For those of you just a tad slower than the rest, I live in the middle of a city.

I'll wait.

Okay, there you go.

"Oh, God, Phil, not the superhero thing again," Kevin sighs exasperatedly. Well, at least I don't have to lie. "How many times do I have to stress to you that there's no possible way you can become a superhero?"

"Why not?"

"You don't have powers."

"Neither does Batman."

"You're not rich. You can barely pay rent."

"S***."

"...Forget to pay rent again?"

I nod.

"Your landlady is going to kill you."

My landlady is a spry old woman named Mrs. Stamp. She still calls African-Americans "colored," and she once accused me of "living in sin" with my ex-girlfriend. (More on her later.) I am literally surprised every day that she's still alive. But to her credit, that woman never forgets when rent is due, and she always makes sure I pay up.

Imagine owing your grandmother money every month, and she doesn't have to pretend to love you enough to cut you any slack.

"Phil, when I tell you this, I tell you this as a dear friend," Kevin begins, "You will never be a superhero. You don't have what it takes, man. Look at yourself! You barely skate by in life as it is!"

But I wasn't going to be deterred.
​

 

[Mr. Majestic]

As I begin to pass Kid Quick the Comm link in my right ear begins to beep meaning one thing, someone needs help.

I tap the comm link to hear what’s going on. “What’s the situation Al?”

”Sir there is a power planet in California that has been reported with bombs set to blow.” After Icon had left I’ve made Al to help me protect the city and the rest of the whole world. I have him connected to any and every police radio in the world and I even have a satellite in the sky. So if any stressful matters come up he’ll let me know. Glad I made him.

“Al, what about any other guardians? Can’t you just tap into their comm. Links and let them know of the situation?”

“I did the calculations and the most accurate solution would be for you and Blur to handle this problem being that you both can be there faster than anyone else Sir.”

I should have known that criminals weren’t going to take the day off to watch the race.

“Okay let Blur know what’s going on I’m on my way there now.”

As the Youngster changes directions heading to California the Blur quickly runs up beside him.

“I’m assuming Al told you what’s going on?”

“Yea he did, so let’s hurry up and rescue those people so I can win this race.”

“We’ll see about that.” Youngster tells Blur as they both race to the power plant.

As they approach the power plant fire trucks and police vehicles could be seen every where. They both come out of super speed beside one of the officers.

“What’s going on?” The blue speedster asks.

The officer turns to face the two heroes.

“We have a weird situation. There are people in the building who are strap with bombs and then there is another bomb by the reactor. Things like this never happen here, we’re sure glad you two guys made.”

“It’s what we do.” Blur replies.

“Blur you go for the people and I’ll go for the bomb at the reactor.”

The two then dashes into the plant, Blur runs for the people left in the building while Youngster heads to disarm the bomb by the reactor.

By the reactor Youngster quickly finds the bomb and before disarming it he quickly examines it. He brings his wrist close to the bomb and presses a button on his watch. A low tone sound begins coming from his watch. As the sounds coming from the watch bounce off the surrounding area of the bomb he actives his reverberation vision to see all the wires coming from the bomb.

“This is odd.” He says out loud.

While examining the explosive he realizes that it was a fake. Well to be more accurate the bomb is real but it was never set to go off. He then taps his comm link to get in contact with Blur.

“Blur there’s something weird about these bombs.”

“I know…” Blur then appears besides the Youngster “…they wasn’t going to blow. After saving all the people I noticed it to. I’ve seen enough bombs to know when they’re going to go off.”

“Why would someone waste their time doing all this for nothing?”

“There could be a number of reasons. I ran through this place looking for some clues but didn’t find anything. Who ever did this made sure to do a good job at leaving nothing behind.”

“That they did, well I’m done here we can tell them everything is back to normal.”

Both the speedsters ran back to the same officer they first seen when they got on the scene. They told the officer what happened and then left to continue the race.