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

[NiteMare Shape]

"You're not a God fearing man, are you Mr. Anderson? Heck, I'm guessing you aren't even a man of any faith."

I sigh, this is going to be more annoying than I thought.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Director, but I'm afraid it is slightly what you just said. I didn't choose this. You...you think I'd choose this? The entire world got to see me breakdown as I held that kid's corpse in my arms and...you..."

I stand up a bit, clenching the metal table and start to make a dent.

Whoa there, bud. Gotta control yourself and cannot make that dent noticeable. Hows about we sit down and keep our hand over that one spot.

Mmmkay?

"I can already picture what you guys would try to do or want to happen if I was to cooperate 100% in the terms that both you and Dr. Weathers are asking for. But you do not understand, my powers aren't something you can pull from my DNA. I know that I sound crazy in a world where faith in Christianity is fading but my powers are merely a blessing passed down to me by God. I did not choose this and I cannot get rid of this. Believe me, I tried once."

Anderson looks at the table, then to Michael, never once moving an inch from his seat.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." He lets a small smile cross his face.

"In all reality, it doesn't matter all that much. You might think that you're some big hero, but in truth you're nothing but a hack artist who likes to play God. But let me tell you something boy, here, I AM God. And you will give me what I want...whether you want to or not." He pauses for a moment, more for effect than anything else. "Now why don't you tell me exactly how your powers work."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

double post

 

[trustyside-kick]

Anderson looks at the table, then to Michael, never once moving an inch from his seat.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." He lets a small smile cross his face.

"In all reality, it doesn't matter all that much. You might think that you're some big hero, but in truth you're nothing but a hack artist who likes to play God. But let me tell you something boy, here, I AM God. And you will give me what I want...whether you want to or not." He pauses for a moment, more for effect than anything else. "Now why don't you tell me exactly how your powers work."

S.T.R.I.K.E. Headquarters
Interrogation Cell
Location Unknown

"Being as blunt as possible?"

I sigh, I hate explaining my powers. Though, I never had to explain it in as depth as I am going to...with withholding a few facts.

"Okay, well you know how there are 7 days in the week, right? Each day, I have 7 different Archangels who--from Heaven above--bless me and bestow me with various powers."

White lie, only 6, but I'm not going to let him know that on Tuesdays I don't have the entire package.

"But only one thing changes day to day: the element or elements I can control. So you've got a day for water, fire, earth, etc. The rest of the package that stays the same is the angel-fire wings and sword. Good enough for you, pal?"

Aaaand I'm withholding one last piece of info but I think I've given enough to wet his beak.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

S.T.R.I.K.E. Headquarters
Interrogation Cell
Location Unknown

"Being as blunt as possible?"

I sigh, I hate explaining my powers. Though, I never had to explain it in as depth as I am going to...with withholding a few facts.

"Okay, well you know how there are 7 days in the week, right? Each day, I have 7 different Archangels who--from Heaven above--bless me and bestow me with various powers."

White lie, only 6, but I'm not going to let him know that on Tuesdays I don't have the entire package.

"But only one thing changes day to day: the element or elements I can control. So you've got a day for water, fire, earth, etc. The rest of the package that stays the same is the angel-fire wings and sword. Good enough for you, pal?"

Anderson takes what Michael says in stride. He has never been a religious man, and has seen enough to know that no self respecting god would leave the world in the state it's in, unless he had a sick sense of humor.

"OK...now supposing what you are telling me is true, exactly what is it about you that made this 'Higher Power' choose you...and not somebody better suited to the job?"

 

[trustyside-kick]

Anderson takes what Michael says in stride. He has never been a religious man, and has seen enough to know that no self respecting god would leave the world in the state it's in, unless he had a sick sense of humor.

"OK...now supposing what you are telling me is true, exactly what is it about you that made this 'Higher Power' choose you...and not somebody better suited to the job?"

Here is where he hits a nerve. 'Oh, well, you see Mr. Anderson my mother used to be one of God's beloved angels until she fell in love with my father--whom I do not know who he even is--which resulted in her being casted down to Hell for loving a man before loving God which left me with this charge to take if I want any hope in saving my innocent soul from being sent to Purgatory when I die for her sins. Saavy?'

Though of course I cannot and will not say that. Heck, the mention that I'm actually only half-human would make him further believe that my powers are somehow innate when in a nutshell they are 'inherited' by association. Me being half-angel only allows me to be a vessel to contain these awesome powers.

However, my response as my head lowers and I sigh is still truthful.

"I...I still don't understand why. Like I said, I tried to get them to take these powers back once. They wouldn't let me. When it comes to the Divine, Mr. Anderson it is never our choice nor are they ever clear. It's just...what I have to do."

Frustrated, I sit back and let out another sigh.

"I really do not know what you expect to get out of this. Trying to make me a lab rat won't work. You cannot derive anything from my DNA like you guys did with those 3 agents to give them unstable powers. My powers are from the Divine's Grace."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Here is where he hits a nerve. 'Oh, well, you see Mr. Anderson my mother used to be one of God's beloved angels until she fell in love with my father--whom I do not know who he even is--which resulted in her being casted down to Hell for loving a man before loving God which left me with this charge to take if I want any hope in saving my innocent soul from being sent to Purgatory when I die for her sins. Saavy?'

Though of course I cannot and will not say that. Heck, the mention that I'm actually only half-human would make him further believe that my powers are somehow innate when in a nutshell they are 'inherited' by association.

However, my response as my head lowers and I sigh is still truthful.

"I...I still don't understand why. Like I said, I tried to get them to take these powers back once. They wouldn't let me. When it comes to the Divine, Mr. Anderson it is never our choice nor are they ever clear. It's just...what I have to do."

Frustrated, I sit back and let out another sigh.

"I really do not know what you expect to get out of this. Trying to make me a lab rat won't work. You cannot derive anything from my DNA like you guys did with those 3 agents to give them unstable powers. My powers are from the Divine's Grace."

Anderson just shakes his head.

"Well now, that's unfortunate. You see Mikey, for some reason I get the sneaking suspicion that you're holding back from me...and that's just not nice, especially when I thought that we understood each other."

Anderson takes the folder that he's been holding and slides it across the table for Michael to look at, and motions for him to go ahead and open it. When Michael does, Anderson gets a grim satisfaction from the look on Michael's face...shock and a hint of terror at seeing the surveillance photographs from Grace's home. Pictures of the house, her parents, and even Grace herself stare up at Michael from the folder.

"That's a pretty girl you got there Michael...particularly pretty when she's asleep...It's be a real shame if something we to happen to her."

 

[trustyside-kick]

OOC: The post starts in the third person and then switches back to first person when it gets back to Michael's location.

Lost Haven
The Bronze District

He rages through the streets of the Bronze District of the city. With each person he encounters, it is a new horrifying shape for him to take form of as he spreads terror. The new born villain known as Nightmare--the tortured and twisted soul of Samuel Cranston as he is influenced by the fear demon Barbas--is looking to get attention from the masses. Creatures that one could only dream, and some that are so twisted that most could not or would not dream of, are the forms that he takes as Cranston attacks.

"ARCHANGEL!!"

All it takes is for Nightmare to look into someones eyes, and see into their very inner fears. By the power of Barbas--through the jewel plunged into Samuel's chest--is Nightmare able to do such devious things. Again, he shouts out the name of the one he seeks in a distorted voice of one of the creatures he has taken form of from someone's inner nightmare and fear.

"AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRCCCCHHHHAAAAAAAAANNNNGELLLLLL!!"

...And he loves it. There is but one soul that Samuel wants to confront and force to face its worst fears: Michael Angelo aka The Archangel.

Anderson just shakes his head.

"Well now, that's unfortunate. You see Mikey, for some reason I get the sneaking suspicion that you're holding back from me...and that's just not nice, especially when I thought that we understood each other."

Anderson takes the folder that he's been holding and slides it across the table for Michael to look at, and motions for him to go ahead and open it. When Michael does, Anderson gets a grim satisfaction from the look on Michael's face...shock and a hint of terror at seeing the surveillance photographs from Grace's home. Pictures of the house, her parents, and even Grace herself stare up at Michael from the folder.

"That's a pretty girl you got there Michael...particularly pretty when she's asleep...It's be a real shame if something we to happen to her."

S.T.R.I.K.E. Headquarters
Interrogation Cell
Location Unknown

Grace

No.

"Formerly had. She left me after the Invasion and we haven't been an item since. I even fired her from being my agent prior to my departure from Lost Haven all together."

We stare back at each other. Dangit. Anderson is playing one messed up set of cards. Everything I've done has been to protect Grace most importantly. Earlier I told Dr. Weathers how I left to protect everyone, to save them from having to get in the crossfires while I try to take down the different sets of beings lured to me by The Seven. But most importantly I was trying to keep myself distant from Grace. Why is it that the harder I try to pull, the more she gets focused on the crossfire?

It is like I can never win.

The heck am I supposed to do?

Then, the unexpected happens. The interrogation door opens, which I know is not planned because Anderson too looks at the door open with much surprise, and a scrawnier looking S.T.R.I.K.E. agent walks up to him.

"There is a...situation, sir."

He takes control of a remote, and presses a button and the two-way mirror can apparently do much more than I thought and a screen turns on. On the screen is a news feed as one of the local Lost Haven News Teams is filming an attack on the city.

"It...whatever it is...started its siege on the city about 20 minutes ago. Calling itself Nightmare. Dr. Weathers informed me that candidates of The Watchmen Project are not ready to go on another mission. Spartan is already on a mission as well."

...the heck is that thing?

"But most importantly...it is...calling...for Mr. Angelo. That's all it has been doing since it arrived. Shrieking his name."

Crap...is this another one of those villains guided by The Seven?

 

[NiteMare Shape]

OOC: The post starts in the third person and then switches back to first person when it gets back to Michael's location.​

Lost Haven
The Bronze District

He rages through the streets of the Bronze District of the city. With each person he encounters, it is a new horrifying shape for him to take form of as he spreads terror. The new born villain known as Nightmare--the tortured and twisted soul of Samuel Cranston as he is influenced by the fear demon Barbas--is looking to get attention from the masses. Creatures that one could only dream, and some that are so twisted that most could not or would not dream of, are the forms that he takes as Cranston attacks.

"ARCHANGEL!!"

All it takes is for Nightmare to look into someones eyes, and see into their very inner fears. By the power of Barbas--through the jewel plunged into Samuel's chest--is Nightmare able to do such devious things. Again, he shouts out the name of the one he seeks in a distorted voice of one of the creatures he has taken form of from someone's inner nightmare and fear.

"AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRCCCCHHHHAAAAAAAAANNNNGELLLLLL!!"

...And he loves it. There is but one soul that Samuel wants to confront and force to face its worst fears: Michael Angelo aka The Archangel.



S.T.R.I.K.E. Headquarters
Interrogation Cell
Location Unknown

Grace

No.

"Formerly had. She left me after the Invasion and we haven't been an item since. I even fired her from being my agent prior to my departure from Lost Haven all together."

We stare back at each other. Dangit. Anderson is playing one messed up set of cards. Everything I've done has been to protect Grace most importantly. Earlier I told Dr. Weathers how I left to protect everyone, to save them from having to get in the crossfires while I try to take down the different sets of beings lured to me by The Seven. But most importantly I was trying to keep myself distant from Grace. Why is it that the harder I try to pull, the more she gets focused on the crossfire?

It is like I can never win.

The heck am I supposed to do?

Then, the unexpected happens. The interrogation door opens, which I know is not planned because Anderson too looks at the door open with much surprise, and a scrawnier looking S.T.R.I.K.E. agent walks up to him.

"There is a...situation, sir."

He takes control of a remote, and presses a button and the two-way mirror can apparently do much more than I thought and a screen turns on. On the screen is a news feed as one of the local Lost Haven News Teams is filming an attack on the city.

"It...whatever it is...started its siege on the city about 20 minutes ago. Calling itself Nightmare. Dr. Weathers informed me that candidates of The Watchmen Project are not ready to go on another mission. Spartan is already on a mission as well."

...the heck is that thing?

"But most importantly...it is...calling...for Mr. Angelo. That's all it has been doing since it arrived. Shrieking his name."

Crap...is this another one of those villains guided by The Seven?

Anderson watches the meta on the screen wreaking havok qhile calling for his "guest."


"Well ****me, isn't that convenient?" Anderson doesn't ait for a reply. Instead he activates the intercom to the observation room.

"Agent Mason, would you come and escort our guest to his 'accomodations?"

"Right away sir." comes the reply.

Anderson looks over to Michael, then smile.

"What? You don't think I'd let you out just because some freak is causing some destruction in town do you? Don't you get it, boy? Everytime one of these freaks comes out of the woodwork and does some damage, it furthers my cause. It makes my job easier. So what if some civilians die, it's collateral damage...it's an acceptable loss. So you just sit tight in your cell...and let the professionals take care of this freak."

 

[trustyside-kick]

Anderson watches the meta on the screen wreaking havok qhile calling for his "guest."

"Well ****me, isn't that convenient?" Anderson doesn't ait for a reply. Instead he activates the intercom to the observation room.

"Agent Mason, would you come and escort our guest to his 'accomodations?"

"Right away sir." comes the reply.

Anderson looks over to Michael, then smile.

"What? You don't think I'd let you out just because some freak is causing some destruction in town do you? Don't you get it, boy? Everytime one of these freaks comes out of the woodwork and does some damage, it furthers my cause. It makes my job easier. So what if some civilians die, it's collateral damage...it's an acceptable loss. So you just sit tight in your cell...and let the professionals take care of this freak."

S.T.R.I.K.E. Headquarters
Interrogation Cell
Location Unknown

That's it. Time to bust out of here.

The door opens up and a few S.T.R.I.K.E. agents quickly block the doorway. I don't give a look of concern because frankly I am tired of playing by Anderson's hand of cards. What he doesn't realize is that I've had a straight flush this entire time, just waiting to use it.

"No, I'm not going to be going anywhere other than the scene of the attack, Mr. Anderson. You asked me a question earlier, about why I have to be the one to do what I do. Well, that question hits me every day of the week, and each day I do not know until something like this comes up and frankly?"

I stand up, not caring that I reveal the dent that I made earlier.

"Frankly, looks like the answer for today is that I have to be the one to do what I do because I'm the one that has to stop that walking nightmare."

Realizing that I am not going to go easy, the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents move in. I grab the metal table, clenching it tightly and lift it up like if it was made out of paper.

"I was holding one piece of information back, Director. After a certain incident I was imbued with super strength and endurance. Yea, your guy Casper or Specter or whatever you want to call got the drop on me on the mountain. But the only reason that I was here for as long as I was was I wanted to understand what S.T.R.I.K.E. was after. I could've walked away from here or the hovercraft whenever I wanted to."

I hurl the table, and the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents dodge it luckily. As the metal table breaks through the doorway and that wall of the interrogation cell, I stand above Anderson just long enough to taunt him and smile as I look down at him as he shielded himself.

"You thought you were interrogating me? Other way around, friend. I'm just better at it than you. Better than you."

And then, I'm on the run. The sounds alarm throughout the building but it doesn't matter. I finally find a good exit, via a wall, and crash through. I leap out, and as I start to fall a heavenly light strikes down at me from the heavens and my angel-fire wings spread freely across my back.

Another one of the demons of The Seven have guided another villain to come after me. Time to do what I do.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

S.T.R.I.K.E. Headquarters
Interrogation Cell
Location Unknown

That's it. Time to bust out of here.

The door opens up and a few S.T.R.I.K.E. agents quickly block the doorway. I don't give a look of concern because frankly I am tired of playing by Anderson's hand of cards. What he doesn't realize is that I've had a straight flush this entire time, just waiting to use it.

"No, I'm not going to be going anywhere other than the scene of the attack, Mr. Anderson. You asked me a question earlier, about why I have to be the one to do what I do. Well, that question hits me every day of the week, and each day I do not know until something like this comes up and frankly?"

I stand up, not caring that I reveal the dent that I made earlier.

"Frankly, looks like the answer for today is that I have to be the one to do what I do because I'm the one that has to stop that walking nightmare."

Realizing that I am not going to go easy, the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents move in. I grab the metal table, clenching it tightly and lift it up like if it was made out of paper.

"I was holding one piece of information back, Director. After a certain incident I was imbued with super strength and endurance. Yea, your guy Casper or Specter or whatever you want to call got the drop on me on the mountain. But the only reason that I was here for as long as I was was I wanted to understand what S.T.R.I.K.E. was after. I could've walked away from here or the hovercraft whenever I wanted to."

I hurl the table, and the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents dodge it luckily. As the metal table breaks through the doorway and that wall of the interrogation cell, I stand above Anderson just long enough to taunt him and smile as I look down at him as he shielded himself.

"You thought you were interrogating me? Other way around, friend. I'm just better at it than you. Better than you."

And then, I'm on the run. The sounds alarm throughout the building but it doesn't matter. I finally find a good exit, via a wall, and crash through. I leap out, and as I start to fall a heavenly light strikes down at me from the heavens and my angel-fire wings spread freely across my back.

Another one of the demons of The Seven have guided another villain to come after me. Time to do what I do.

Anderson watches as The Archangel makes his escape.

"Well I'll be...."

 

[Blacklight]

Chapter 5
​

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.

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

As instantly as the Harbingers arrived, Blacklight and his selves readied themselves for battle. Their hands all energized with their respective colored light energy and their weapons drawn, the Blacklights were ready to go on the offensive.

"Harbingers! ATTACK!"

Then they struck, but our heroes stood ready.

But as the Harbingers charged at them, Blacklight noticed something about them. They were all strikingly similar to heroes from his own world.

The Master of Darkness must've plucked evil twisted versions of them from the Multiverse to oppose us...

He also took note of the fact that they were only seven of them as opposed to their eight members.

Something's not right he--

"OOF!" He uttered in pain as the one known as Tyrant delivered a vicious blow to Blacklight's abdomen, effectively cutting his thoughts short.

And just like that, the first punch was thrown and the battle for the fate of reality had begun.

Blacklight quickly retaliated with a haymaker of his own, which made contact with Tyrant's cheek, but to little effect.

"Damn..." Jon cursed, shaking his hand off as Tyrant sinisterly smirked.

But as Jon prepared for another hit, his saving grace came in the form of Indigolight plowing into him mid-air, at full speed, knocking the wind out of him.

Jon quickly took the opportunity to survey how well his alternate selves were faring.

Engaged in an epic sword fight was Greenlight and Takai, whose blades were clanging in a fury. The weaponized Blacklight proved to be one of the Master Swordsman's toughest foes in terms of skill.

Vigilante Bluelight, armed with a crossbow for launching "Bluebolt Arrows", was trying his hardest to damage the damned Archangel of Death, whose demonic abilities were making Bluelight's task all the more difficult.

Yellowlight's skills in the Martial Arts were being put to the test as the human weapon known as the Scar closed in and unleashed a flurry of strikes at a pace as fast as lightning.

Driven by rage and instinct, the creature Megladon wildly slashed towards Redlight, but Redlight's own anger gave him the strength to fend the monster off. But the predator would not stop coming back for more, for it would not be satisfied until it's claws were red with blood.

Orangelight found himself surrounded by a yellow and green cyclone, but he was quick on his feet. With a quick flick, he threw his diamond yo-yo at the cyclone. Latching onto a nearby diamond pillar in the ground, Velocity found himself clotheslined by it's tether. Orangelight then grinned and cracked one of his sub-par one-liners as Velocity got back up for Round 2.

Finally, it was Violetlight ducking and dodging the Hornet's deadly stingers whilst typing some keys on his holo-keypad emitting from his wrist. When finished, Violetlight studied the results of his search, and then had his suit dispense a duo of particle clouds from the torso of his suit, which managed to make the Hornet choke. He then followed up with a charged shot of violet energy which knocked the Hornet down for the count.

Seems my selves can handle this. Good. I need to get to that prism. Fast...

Blacklight then seized the moment and took to the air in search of the prism, but as he made headway, something blocked his path, and it was dark figure of sorts. One that delivered a vicious, two-handed blow to Blacklight's head, knocking him out of the air and crashing into the sandy ground below...

"Damn it... I knew something was wrong here." he muttured under his breath.

But as he recovered, rubbing his head, he looked up and saw who the figure was, and gasped in utter horror and shock.

"No. It can't be..."

It was.

The Ace up the Master of Darkness's sleeve.

An Eighth Harbinger.

 

[trustyside-kick]

Lost Haven
Bronze District

I'm flying through the skies, and the havoc that this villain alone has unleashed on the city is unbelievable. This...Nightmare guy. Geez, does he really call himself that? Still, this is nothing like Leech. When Sebastian Blake was unknowingly lured towards me, he did it with elegance in his own sick and twisted way. But this next villain he...is just out of control.

"ARCHANGEL!!"

As I finally spot the perp, I...don't know what he is. Isn't that...one of those creatures from that TMNT movie that came out a few years ago? 'The heck am I up against?

"Right here, bubba!"

He...it...turns around, and the mother and son he was scaring the heck out of are able to finally run free. I see a smile on the creatures face as it has finally found what it is searching for--me--and it slowly starts to walk over to me. I ready my stance, at the same time ready to pull the very ground from below his feet and then his shape starts to change. He starts to get smaller and smaller and then his physique changes to that of a man clad in a dark red, black, and yellow costume.

"So you are the one I seek. You do not seem too...impressive."

"Yea, well, when you are not taking the form of a hideous monster you aren't all that intimidating either, pal. So, you wanted me...and I see the trouble you went through clearing this area of the city. All for me? Sorry, but not flattered."

He just...stands there for a moment. No comeback or nothing. Then suddenly, it is like something hits him and he wiggles about a bit. It's like something is eating at his brain that's the only way I can describe it as he takes hold of his head.

This is it, Samuel. Defeat The Archangel. Remove his very head from his body, and then none will be able to oppose you. He is merely an obstacle, orchestrated by the Divine to try to cage you like an animal.

"Like...an animal."

"...what? Hey, uh, buddy. You're not looking too good so how about we--"

"AAAAAAAARRRGGGH!!!"

Woah, this is freaky.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHH!!"

He starts to change shape again, and--

"WHAT THE HELL?"

I curse. Something I do not do very often. But...how the heck do you respond to something like...

"RAAAAAAAHHHH!!"

...that?

 

[wiegeabo]

A Nobel Prize winning smart ass named George Bernard Shaw once said that "Liberty breeds responsibility. That is why most men dread it."

The thought rumbles around my mind as I sit in my parked car, vaguely watching the people walk by as I pull the burger out of its bag and start unwrapping it.

That's also the same moment a couple of knocks on the roof of my car pull my attention to the police officer looking in from my passenger window.

"Handicapped parking only pal," she says, visibly angry.

I raise my eyebrow as I calmly take a bite. "What's your point?"

That's when she looks in and notices that I have no legs below the knees.

"...Sorry." She walks away a quickly as she can.

I just smile and keep eating my burger in peace.

***

"This agency can no longer afford to deal with your reckless behavior."

The Director stands over his desk, his lackey Alberts and The Doctor standing behind him. Standing behind me is my partner Hawkes who, without even looking to make sure, I know is giving me the same look that the other three are.

I just sit in my chair, looking at the floor with disinterest.

"Your conduct with invisibility, in particular, has reached an unexceptionable level."

I force myself not to crack a smile or laugh. I can't believe bureaucrats actually talk like this. I look up at the Fatman. "I was merely performing a series of test, trying to perfect the quicksilver-hehehhaha." Ok, so I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Come on, would you guys lighten up. I'm just having some fun. You know, what's it cost anyone?"

"Eighty-seven thousand, sixty-two dollars, and thirty-seven cents," Alberts says, looking at the figure in a file.

My jaw drops a little.

"Your fun uses a lot of counteragent. It's not cheap to make," the Director says.

"You are the biggest, penny-pinching-"

"Enough." The Director walks over to me and leans over the table I'm sitting behind for emphasis. "We're making the reasons clear you'll understand the rule."

"The rule."

"From now on you are to use quicksilver for sanctioned assignment only. From now on, you will receive one, and only one, dose of the counteragent per mission completed."

"And what happens if I need more than one shot to complete one of your freaking missions? Hmm, what then?"

The Director stands up and shrugs with a small smile. "Simple." He reaches his hand behind him and Alberts puts a piece of paper in it. "Fill out the counteragent request form." He sets the paper down in front of me.

"Invisibility responsibility. Love it or lose it."

Stunned, I pick up the paper and just stare at it. "Beurecratic mentality is the only universal constant. I can't believe you're gonna nickle and dime me to death with paperwork about going see-through when some guy blew up a bunch of people yesterday and we just sat here on our asses and did nothing."

Yeah, some meta kid, spouting gibberish, broke into a fancy fund raiser and blew himself and bunch of other people into orbit.

"It wasn't our jurisdiction."

My jaw drops again. "Not our!...Not our jurisdiction?!" I chuckle silently and shake my head. "You know what?" I grab the piece of paper and stand up, slowly ripping it in half as I step backwards. I rip it again, toss the shreds in the air, and wave bye-bye as I turn invisible and walk out the door.

Hawkes looks around for me. "I'll, um, I'll just go get him." They watch him turn right out the door...then rush back the other way.

"Well, that went better than expected."

My buddy George also had another quote. 'A lifetime of hapiness! No man alive could bear it; it would be hell on earth."

Well, given the state of my life, George, I could use a little hell right about now.

Juggling the bags in my arms, I twist the key and open my apartment door. I kick the door closed behind me, drop my keys on the table, set the six pack of beer down next to them, and promptly drop all the others bags with a shout.

"HOLY HELL!!!"

" Hey partner."

I lean back against the door, trying to get my heart to stop racing. "Hawkes, geez, what the hell man?!"

"Just waitin' around for my partner to show up."

"In the dark?!"

"Can't be too careful, Cole. You never know what may happen."

"There's that good old Hawkes paranoia."

"You know what I tell my therapist. Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you."

"You really tell him that?" I pop a beer, suddenly feeling like I'll need it.

"Every time."

"Explains a lot." I take a swig. A big swig. "Except why you're here."

"The Director's got a mission for us." Sorry, George. Guess I spoke too soon.

"Oh, so I get the chance to earn another shot of counteragent?" I down half the bottle to get the bad taste out of my mouth. Hawkes has the good sense not to say anything.

"Why didn't you just call me on my cell?"

"Figured you could use some cooling off time after blowing up in The Director's face."

"You figure just right. Wanna beer?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

***

After several hours of hard work, Alberts brings in a fresh pot of coffee. The Director looks up from the papers scattered around his desk in what can loosely be called a form of organized chaos.

"I swear, Alberts, that man will be the death of me. Thank you," he says, taking an offered cup of liquid caffeine.

"It does seem like it will take a good deal of effort to financially address Mr. Cole's...unique uses of his ability."

"Heh. Unique isn't quite the work I would use." The Director takes his glasses off and rubs the bridge of his nose when he notices the numbers starting to blur together.

"I've been thinking, sir. If we change from using paper clips to staples, I believe we can save nearly $90 a month."

This brings an instant smile to The Director's face. "Now that's what I like to hear, Alberts. I think that deserves a five minute break, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. Shall I turn on the tv?"

"Why not," The Director says with a chuckle. "It might be nice to see what's going on outside these four walls."

Alberts presses the button, and the national news flickers onto the screen.

As Anderson steps up to the podium in the center of the stage that has been hastily erected just outside what had been the front entrance of the Lost Haven Galo Hotel, he looks down at all the reporters and other spectators who have turned out to hear what the director of the mysterious organization has to say.

Dozens of flash bulbs go off as he steps up to the microphone and prepares to address the crowd, which has grown restless since the announcement was made prior to Anderson's arrival that there would be no questions at this time.

Anderson steps to the microphone and begins his address.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I am Director Alexander Anderson. I am in charge of the Super Terrestrial Review Inside Known Encounters, or as many of you know us, S.T.R.I.K.E. Over the last 48 hours this city has seen two devestating terrorist attacks that have left scores dead or missing. We are currently investigating both the attack at the Lost Haven Gala Hotel as well as the destruction of the Harrison Bridge."

Several members of the pressshout out questions despite the earlier proclamation. Anderson simply raises his hands in a gesture imploring them to refrain from asking their questions and continues.

"We do have evidence in our possession that indicates that a meta human was responsible for the attack on the hotel, however we are exploring every possible avenue regarding that attack. However, we do have eyewitness accounts which has been confirmed by military satalite that metahumans were indeed resopnsible for the Harrison Bridge disaster."

Anderson pauses for a moment to let the news sink in before continuing.

"Now I want you to understand that S.T.R.I.K.E. is taking these attacks very seriously and have already been authorized to take appropriate measures to prevent such attacks in the future."

Anderson is bombarded with questions as soon as the words are out of his mouth. People want to know exactly what he means, and what exactly is constitutes "appropriate measures."

"For too long, we as a people have relied on so called "superheroes" to protect us from whatever may pose a threat at any given time. However, some would say that these so called heroes' very existence creates the threats that are posed to us on an increasingly regular basis."

The crowd begins to grumble, some seemingly arguing the point while others murmur and nod in agreement.

"This is my promise to you: No longer will we as a people be forced to rely on the whims of so-called heroes to keep us safe from those that wish to do us harm. Going forward, S.T.R.I.K.E. will be pursuing an aggressive policy of weeding out those who pose a threat to our society wherever they might be found...whether they are your 'average' metahuman thug, organized networks, or even elements inside government sanctioned 'super groups.' Their days of roaming our cities unfettered are over. Thank you."

Anderson steps away from the podium and makes his way off stage, as the crowd who at first had a mixed reaction to the director's words, but eventually loud applause drowned out those who were questioning just what it all means.

The Director glares at the screen in silence. Alberts sits quietly behind him, trying not to gulp too loudly.

"...Alberts."

"Sir?"

"I need a secure phone line."

"Yes, sir. Do you want me to dial the number?"

"No...I'll do it myself."

"Ah...that kind of secure line. Yes, sir."

Alberts promptly leaves the room. The Director mutes the tv while he waits, but continues to start at the sight on the screen. His phone buzzes and he picks up.

There's a strange encoding noise, and then Alberts' voice. "Your secure line, sir." Alberts promptly disconnects and the Director starts dialing.

The line rings a few times before it's picked up. "Hello?" the voice on the other end says.

"Let me speak to Anderson..."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

The Director glares at the screen in silence. Alberts sits quietly behind him, trying not to gulp too loudly.

"...Alberts."

"Sir?"

"I need a secure phone line."

"Yes, sir. Do you want me to dial the number?"

"No...I'll do it myself."

"Ah...that kind of secure line. Yes, sir."

Alberts promptly leaves the room. The Director mutes the tv while he waits, but continues to start at the sight on the screen. His phone buzzes and he picks up.

There's a strange encoding noise, and then Alberts' voice. "Your secure line, sir." Alberts promptly disconnects and the Director starts dialing.

The line rings a few times before it's picked up. "Hello?" the voice on the other end says.

"Let me speak to Anderson..."

Anderson sits behind his desk, looking through piles of files, preparing for S.T.R.I.K.E.'s next move in securing the United States against the threat posed by metahumans when the intercom on his desk buzzes.

"Yes, Ms Powers?"

"Sir, a call on the secure line for you."

Anderson sighs.

"Very well. I'll be with him in a few minutes."

Anderson has never cared much for D. Whenever the two directors have any contact there is always a game of one-upsmanship, and the conversation usually ranges from barely civil to outright hostile.

After keeping D on hold for several minutes, Anderson picks up the intra agency secure line and says in an overly polite tone, "D, good to hear from you. What can I do for you?"

 

[Rain Dog]

It seems yet another disaster has struck Lost Haven….

SSSSSNNNNNFFFF

“Ahhh!” I grunt, rubbing my nostrils. I feel that razor sharp rush, the sparks flying in my brain.

“It’s up to standards, Reverend?”

..still recovering from the global devastation brought upon by extraterrestrials….

I give the herald a thumbs up.

“Top notch, buck-o, top notch.”

I slide the glass plate over to the lovely lady to my left and she immediately begins indulging on the snowy white wonderment.

“Make sure the laddies sell this stuff uptown, the yuppies pay top dollar for **** like this.”​

…Harrison Bridge collapsed into the bay…

I groan and fling a weak, bluish bolt of energy at the television set, destroying device.

“Ugh. It seems like this ****ing town can’t go a month without something exploding or some lunatic running things amuck.”

“Yes, Reverend.”

“All that damned thing ever plays is bad news. And we only like good news in this Church, don’t we?” I say to the lady to my left as I pinch her cheek.

“Yes, Reverend.”

“Go get dressed and set up the lights. It’s almost time for the sermon.”

She nods and exits the office. The herald simply remains standing before me in utter silence, timidly awaiting his next orders. His face is beginning to annoy me.

“Are you going to get me a new television or what?”

“Yes, Reverend,” he said almost immediately before hastily exiting the room.

Lazy imbecile. I shouldn’t have needed to ask him that. I pull open a drawer on my desk, reach inside, and pull out a hand mirror. I bring it up to face and begin preening myself. I need to look my best—today’s sermon is going to be stellar, I can already tell.

Two minutes ‘til showtime.

I wrap a silky white cloak over my body and take one final glance in the mirror to make sure I look absolutely marvelous. I can hear the whines and screeches from microphones and amplifiers coming from the other side of the wall. Then, a guitar chord, followed by the roar of a crowd.

“Brothers and sisters…welcome.”

I flash myself one big, pearly-white smile before heading for the doorway.

“Prepare to transcend into new realms of reality, new levels of consciousness, and new heights of cosmic awareness with the teachings of our beloved Messiah, the one, the only, Reverend MADLOVE!”

I step out of the doorway and onto the stage, the screams from the crowd and screeching guitar riffs from the band overwhelming my feeble human ears. I move through the thick, artificial fog and make my way to center stage where I turn about and a pair of my lovely assistants come scampering to my side. The fog clears and upon seeing my divine form, the crowd goes absolutely mental.

With my back facing the audience, I raise on hand into the air and unleash a dazzling array of sparks and light. The assistants pull off the cloak and I spin around, facing the crowd, absorbing their screams, their applause, their love.

The assistants exit the stage, and with a dismissive wave of my hand the crowd falls silent.

“Today’s sermon…is about…faith.”

* * *​

TWO WEEKS AGO…​

The door to my office swings open, and Dante—a veteran member of the Church—comes storming in with my bumbling herald trailing close behind.

“Reverend, I told him that your visiting hours were over but—”

“—I need to speak with you, Reverend.”

I frown. I don’t like being disturbed during my private hours.

“Can it wait ‘til morning, Dante? My visiting hours are ov—“

“No, this needs to be discussed now.”

I try my best hold back a groan. These insignificant worms and their insignificant “problems”…

“Very well,” I said, forcing a smile, “What seems to be troubling you, brother Dante?”

“I want to leave the Church.”

My pseudo-smile buckles into a frown once again.

* * *​

“Faith is the most important virtue any of you could hope to have. Faith trumps fact. Always. It is faith in this Church and in our beliefs, our practices, and doctrines that keeps us strong—that keeps us unified against a cruel and unrelentingly brutal world where unique practices such as our own are met with prejudice and discrimination!

"Who are they to say what is and isn’t right? Look how loving, peaceful, and happy we are, babies! Look at all that we have built and accomplished! Many of you here in this Church have traveled with me and your brothers and sisters into new, brilliant realities and cosmic planes and defied all of the ‘unbreakable’ laws of this universe! Many of you have felt the warmth and indescribable pleasures of Enlightenment! Who are they to say we’re wrong?”

* * *​

“Why would you ever want to leave our loving family?”

Dante has been with us since the Church’s original incarnation—before the Invasion, before we were terrorized by those meta-human vermin. What suddenly has him so eager to leave?

“I’ve been with the Church for quite a while, Reverend, and over the course of time, I’ve watched it…change quite a bit.”

“Yes, we have, Dante. Change is good! We are expanding our—“

“No, not like that, Reverend. When I first came to the Church, I was poor, broken, and alone. Then, I listened to your sermons and realized that your teachings are what had been missing in my life. I found love, acceptance, and new reasons to live. I blissfully enjoyed each and every day I had. And then…things began to change. Slowly, at first—with the cosmic communions…and then our mission to eliminate the Negative…and then we began selling the communion and brewing it and …I went along with everything....

“I asked no questions, did all that was asked of me, and told myself it would benefit the Church, my brothers, the world…but deep down inside I knew it was wrong. And I still feel that way. In fact, it’s more apparent than ever to me…it was wrong, everything we’ve done is wrong!”

“I see…”

“But that's not all. My family saw that it was wrong too. And they tried to tell me. Did you know I haven’t seen them almost a year? Do you know why? I know why. It was you.

"They came here, several times, asking to see me, asking you to let me go, and you turned them away every time. I had no idea until two nights ago where I ran into my brother at restaurant! They were worried sick about me and you went out of your way to keep them from seeing me! And you and the others had convinced me that they had abandoned me, that they hated me!”

“Well, Dante, they said some very nasty things about us and I could sense an unruly amount of Negative—“

“—Enough. I’m done with you, done with your ******** teachings, and done with my so-called ‘brothers and sisters’ and done with this Church. Goodbye, Reverend.”

“…….”

* * *​

“Outside forces will try to corrupt you—plant seeds of fear and doubt in your mind. Use their precious ‘logic’ and ‘truth’ to try to steer you away from the righteous path! But be strong, babies! Be strong and believe in what you know in your hearts, minds, and souls to be true! And to those of you in this room with wavering faith, inflicted with the plague of doubt, let it be known…”

* * *​

TWO NIGHTS AGO...​

THUD
THUD
THUD
SMASH!

My two followers succeeded in kicking the apartment door open. The lights were dimly lit, the television was off, and no one has come rushing out of their bedroom wondering what the hell that noise was—it didn’t seem like anyone was home.

“I thought you said he was always home at this hour.”

“He is, Reverend! We’re certain of it, we followed him for a whole week!”

I walk down a dark hallway and see a closed door at the end of it with light shining out from the crack at the bottom.

“Ah.”

I wave my followers over. They see the door and immediately charge and burst through it, revealing a terrified Dante in the midst of a bath. I walk into the bathroom with a smirk. There's loud music playing. That explains why he didn't hear the door being kicked open.

I look around and notice a radio plugged into the wall, sitting near the sink. I glance at the tub, then the radio, then back at the tub, then the radio....

No, no. Where’s the fun in that?

“Reverend?! What the hell are you doing in my home?! Get out! Get out or I’ll call the police!”

“Dante, you are the first of our veteran class of Church-goers to leave our glorious Congregation. We have come to say farewell. You will be missed. And though it pains me to see you go, I still want to wish you the best in life. Or…rather…afterlife.”

There are two words that could perfectly describe his face now: sheer terror. He tries to spring out of the tub but he is suddenly shoved back down and restrained by invisible arms. I concentrate on making the molecules in his bath water move faster and faster. Steam begins to billow out of the tub and Dante’s flesh begins to go from a pallid pink to a bright red.

He struggles with all his might to leave the tub, but I keep him held down with my powers and make the water molecules move faster and faster. A thick cloud of steam rises from the tub as the water begins bubbling and Dante lets out a horrofic scream. A silence him by telekinetically forcing his jaw shut and increasing the heat until I smell his skin boil and watch layer after layer of flesh drip and peel off of his body, eventually revealing the bloody red muscle tissue underneath. I can’t help but laugh.

He lets out one last gurgle before going limp. I release him and his head slumps back against the pink-tiled wall. One of my followers looks like he’s about to vomit. He suddenly feels much better after I shoot him a look of disgust. We take our leave.

* * *​

“…let it be known that there will be dire consequences.”

 

[Eddie Brock]

I pick up a paperweight from Sergeant Hampton's desk and begin tossing it from hand to hand. As I do, I look around the new office. "Well, this is nice. Not quite your old office, but not bad." I catch the paperweight and set it down on his desk, leaning back in my chair as I put my feet up on his desk.

Sergeant Hampton looks at me strangely but doesn't say a word. He's used to my "eccentricities" by now. When I'm in my suit, I let out a whole different side of me. He's no doubt learned to just roll with it.

"So, tell me about these Diamondback characters," I begin. A new gang calling themselves "The Diamondbacks" has popped up on the scene in response to the expansion of the Devil's Rejects' territory. They've committed a number of high-profile robberies, making sure to get their name out there. "Where'd they come from?"

"Actually, believe it or not, they've been operating underground for several years now. They were always difficult to track because they were never really a formal gang, per say. They were just a loose affiliation of several small-time crime bosses with connected interests," Sarge explains. "They were content to work behind the scenes, pull some strings, never really make a name for themselves."

"And then the Rejects showed up."

Sarge nods. "Exactly. The Rejects have upset the delicate balance that the Diamondbacks put into place. They represent a serious threat to the Diamondback organization. Now, the Diamondbacks have solidified, uniting their combined resources and manpower."

I frown. The Rejects were enough of a headache. Now, to have two major gangs about ready to start a territory war? So much for a laid-back summer before college.

"Even worse, the Diamondbacks have started a chain reaction. Several smaller gangs are feeling threatened now. They've formed alliances. Some are reacting violently. It's turning into every man for himself out there."

I hop out of my chair. "Well, we have to be on top of our game, then." I turn towards the door and stop. "I should probably use the window, huh?" Sarge nods. "Stay safe, Sergeant. We'll win our city back."​

 

[Optikal]

Previously:

Spoiler

[FONT="]

[/FONT]

Though the sky was pitch black overhead, the light emanating from beyond the treeline offered Alex a direct route to his destination. Jogging through the field, alex barely gave thought to any danger he may be in. Curiosity had gotten the better of him and he was determined to see what had crashed from the sky. Leaping a small ditch he entered the treeline, scorched wood and kicked up dirt leaving a large gap for him to work through.

As he cleared the trees he found himself in a hastily created clearing, wood and metal debris strewn everywhere and small patches of fire illuminating what appeared to be a destroyed ship of some kind. Swallowing hard, Alex tentatively stepped forward and looked around. It was then that he saw the crumpled body laid in the dirt.

Alex leapt down into the clearing and raced over to the body rolling over the body. The creature groaned and lifted its dark eyes to meet those of Alex.

"הילף מיר אַרויף"

Alex frowned and shook his head as the alien grabbed at his forearm. With a weak groan he lifted his arm and pointed towards the wreckage. Alex followed the dying creatures gaze and saw a metallic looking helmet resting against the wreckage.

"You want that?" he asked.

The alien blinked slowly and nodded his head towards the helmet once more. Understanding, Alex moved to grab the helmet. It felt a lot lighter than it looked and even though it appeared too small, the alien managed to place it over his head.

"T-thank you" the alien spluttered. "My name is Elix Gan-Shun, Omega Prime designation of the Valar Defense Force".

Alex hunched down next to the creature as it coughed and sputtered. "You need help. I can get you out of here, get you to a hospital or something?"

"No. There is no time Earthman. I am dying... just as my people before me. I shall return to the embrace of the Valar soon. But first I ask you to grant me a dying wish".

Alex nodded as Elix Gan-Shun took his arm but found no words.

"I have looked into your soul Earthman", Elix continued. "You are a good man, an honourable soul".

"I'm just a guy" Alex replied. "Come on, there's got to be something I can do to help you".

"T-There is". Elix body convulsed twice more as fits of coughing racked his body. Alex saw dark blue fluid leak down his chest, but said nothing, though he felt Elix grip on his arm growing weak. "Alex Winter. My people are gone. Their legacy is almost as dust. I am the last of them. The power of the Omega Prime has long being the highest honour bestowed upon a Valar but our time in this universe is ended. Take the helmet Alex Winter. Accept the duty of the Omega Prime. Keep the history of the Valar alive and honour it".

Alex frowned and shook his head. "What?! I don't understand!" He spluttered. "I can't! I'm just a security guard from a small podunk town in the middle of nowhere!"

"You can. You must". Elix whispered. "Take the helmet Alex. Don't let my people die here tonight".

Elix Gan-Shun lifted the helmet from his head and offered it out to Alex.

"דאָ. נעמט עס"

Alex took the helmet and swallowed hard. "I can't understand you" he said helplessly. Elix Gan-Shun lifted his head and the corners of his lipless mouth curved upwards, the thin tendrils coming from his chin twitching. Alex recognised it as a smile and gripped the aliens hand, saying nothing as he watched the light fade from the alien warriors dark orbs. Grasping the helmet he had been handed, Alex stood over the body, his mind reeling. Elix Gan-Shun was dead and in his hands he held the legacy of an entire species.
​

[FONT="]

[/FONT]
​

[FONT="]
[/FONT]Alex took a step back from the wreckage and the dead body of the alien warrior. In the distance he heard the heavy thudding of helicopter blades thumping through the deep night air. Further than that the thin wails of sirens crept across the countryside. Glancing at the helmet in his hands, he tucked it under his arm and turned and ran the way he had came.

Heart thundering in his chest, Alex dived into his car and without hesitation, dragged it onto the highway and in the opposite direction of the sirens. Leaving the headlamps off, he powered down the highway towards town, casting unsure looks at the alien artifact rolling around upon his passenger seat.

"What the hell am I going to do?" he asked no-one in particular. Pulling from the highway, he brought the car to a stop and took a long deep breath. Briefly he considered tossing the silver helmet into the scrub at the side of the road and driving away. Getting out of the car, he made his way around the vehicle and opened the door and picked up the helmet.

As he held it, warmth spread through his hands and up his arms, penetrating his chest. The words of Elix Gan-Shun leapt unbidden into his mind. "Don't let my people die here tonight. Keep the history of the Valar alive and honour it".

Alex sighed and rested against the side of the car. "Why me?" he asked. No answer came though and he was left with only the distant chirping of nearby crickets. "I'm nobody. I'm not important. I can't do this". His voice was heavy and he realised he was talking to the helmet itself. The dark eyes stared back at him accusingly and alex had to turn it away.

Tipping it upside down he found himself looking into the deeply padded interior. The silver of the metal shone even in the pale moonlight and Alex found himself drawing it to his face. Even with his eyes closed he felt strange motion as the helmet shifted and writhed in his hands, seemingly changing shape to accomodate his head even as he drew it on. Dropping it into place, he opened his eyes.

Brilliant light blinded him and Alex let out a panicked scream as his vision filled with vivid imagery.

​

Alex fell to his knees, clutching at the sides of the helmet as he saw the destruction of a planet and an entire race of people. The horror was too much to bear but try as he might, the helmet would not come off.

<Calm yourself Alex Winter. All will be well>

Alex stopped and blinked. The images had stopped and he found himself looking at the ground. His vision was obscured by a gentle glowing HUD displaying a variety of readings but he otherwise, his sight had cleared and the pain ahd gone.

"Who said that?" he whispered, looking around.

<I am the Virtual Autonomous Life Archive Record. The memory of Valar. Primary directive is to preserve the history of the Valar. Secondary directive is to assist the Omega Prime in the preservation of peace and upholding justice>

"You're... you're in my head?!" Alex stammered, not quite believing it even as he asked the question.

<Of sorts. I am connected via neural link though my data is stored within the circuitry of the helmet you wear. This recepticle is the last remaining storage vessel of the Valar empire. You have been chosen as the new Omega Prime. We have much work to do>

"No. You've got the wrong guy. I'm just a dumb security guard. I tried telling this to the alien guy before he died. I can't do this".

<Elix Gan-Shun was the wisest and bravest of our people. He chose you and we live by his wisdom. We see into your mind as you see into ours. You are a good man Alex Winter. You have an honourable soul. You have been chosen>

Alex groaned and dropped to sit on the ground by his car. "I'm not going to get out of this am I?" he groaned.

<Omega Prime is the highest honour a being can recieve. You have been chosen. Are you ready for your tutelage?>

"What do you mean?"

<You must learn of our history. We will teach you the legacy you carry as well as the power you now wield>

Alex perked up and raised an eyebrow. "Power?" he asked. "What kind of power?"

<We will show you>

 

[Eddie Brock]

Tonight's the night I tell Brooke my secret. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. My heart has been pounding through my chest the entire walk to her house. But I know this is the right thing to do. We're going to college soon. We're supposed to be adults. And if we're going to have a meaningful relationship, there can't be any secrets - especially none this big. Mantis is who I am, and I need to know if Brooke is comfortable with that.

Tonight's the perfect night for it, anyway. Friday night, clear skies. Brooke's parents are away for the night, visiting old friends, which means we'll have plenty of interrupted time to talk. I've worn my costume underneath my shirt, just in case Brooke asks to see some proof. I'm ready. I've had a while now to think about this, and I know what I'm going to say. I only hope it comes out right.

"Hey, Sean."

"Hey."

Brooke leads me into her house by hand. I can barely hear myself think over the thumping of my heart. It wasn't this way with Jim. I didn't have time to dwell on it. I made the decision to tell him, and it was over in a second. With Brooke, I've been thinking about it and thinking about it. I follow Brooke upstairs and ignore the dry feeling in my throat.

"So, you don't want to go out tonight?" Brooke asks as she sits down on her bed.

I rub my arm nervously. "No. I mean, I guess we could, but I was hoping we could talk first," I explain.

Brooke sits up straight, clearly concerned by my tone of voice. I wish I could explain to her that she has nothing to worry about, but she'll understand once I've said my piece. "Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

I sit down next to her. I thought this would be easier if I stood, but my knees were trembling too much. Of all the things I do on a day-to-day basis, this is the thing that gives me the shakes. Oh, Sean. "Heh. You know, I had this all planned out, but I guess it's never that easy," I muse. Brooke still stares at me nervously. "It's not anything bad, I promise."

At that, Brooke seems to relax, if only a little.

"Look, I know we're only going to be a few blocks away from each other next year, but it's still not going to be the same," I begin. "You're going to have your stuff going on, and I'm going to have my stuff. And we're probably not going to see each other as much as we do now."

Brooke nods. "I understand that."

I pause and collect my thoughts. That's it, Sean. One little bit at a time. "So for us to make this work, we're going to have to work a little harder. We're going to have to really commit to this relationship - which I'm not afraid to do." I swallow the lump in my throat. Getting closer now. "But if we're going to take our relationship to that next level--"

"I know, Sean," Brooke interjects, catching me completely off-guard. She can't possibly mean what I think she means, so what is she talking about?

"Um...you know?"

Brooke nods again. Now she's the one struggling to find the right words. I can see it on her face. "I've had a lot of time to think about it, too. And I know what you're going to say, and all I have to say is...okay."

Somehow, I doubt she does know what I'm going to say. "Okay?"

"Okay," Brooke repeats a bit more confidently. "I think we're ready." It's all very confusing until she puts her hand on top of mine. I look into her eyes, and I immediately know what she's talking about.

"Oh."

Brooke frowns. "Oh?" I take it that's not the response she was hoping for.

"No, no. I mean, that's not what I was going to say," I assure her.

"Oh." She starts to turn red.

I clear my throat. "I mean, I've thought about that, too. And if you want to talk about it, we can. But that's not what I was talking about." Although, now it's all I can think about. Brooke thinks we're ready? For that? Focus, Sean, focus. "What I was going to say is that if we're going to make this work, we have to be completely open with one another. No lies, no secrets."

"Well, I'm not hiding anything."

"I know you're not." Here it comes. "I am." Brooke stares at me, but for the life of me I can't figure out what she's thinking now. Here it comes. "And I'm so sorry that I haven't told you this before, but you have to understand that I did it for you."

Brooke's face is still a blank slate. I can only imagine what she's thinking. I know my imagination would be running wild if she was telling me this.

"Brooke, I...I'm..."

Here it cooooooomes.

"I'm Mantis."

Brooke's face remains blank for a second. Then, the corner of her lip turns up into a little smirk. Then, she starts to laugh. I don't know why, but I start to laugh, too.

"I'm serious!" I insist between laughs.

Brooke falls backwards onto her bed, laughing into her pillow. "Okay. You're Mantis."

"I am!" I lift my shirt over my head. "Look!"

Now, Brooke stops laughing. She sits up straight, her eyes about as wide as I've ever seen, as she reaches out to touch my chest. She runs her fingertips along the green spandex, tracing a line around the seams. The joke's over. Reality has set in. "Sean..."

"I was protecting you," I explain. I see her hand is shaking. I grab her lightly by the wrist. I hold her hand until the shaking stops. That's when I notice that I'm not feeling nervous anymore. In fact, I'm hit by a wave of confidence. "What I do is really dangerous. I didn't want you to always be worrying about me. And if anyone ever found out who I am, and if they came after you...I would never forgive myself."

Brooke finally looks me in the eye, but she remains silent.

"Tell me you understand."

"Sean, this is huge. This is so much bigger than you or me or us."

"I know," I reply. "I'm not going to tell you that this doesn't change anything. I know it does. But whatever happens now, wherever we go from here, we're going to do it together." I smirk. "Well, us and Jim."

"Jim knows?" Brooke starts to smile.

I shrug. "He confronted me a long time ago. I had no choice but to tell him." I put my arm around Brooke, pulling her into a tight embrace. As she rests her head on my shoulder, I say, "He's so excited that you know now. I think he needs someone to talk to."

Brooke sighs, not taking her head off my shoulder. "Sean, this is a lot to process."

"I know it is."

Brooke sighs again, this time throwing her arms around my neck. "I love you, Sean."

"I love you, too."
​

 

[Eddie Brock]

"My birthday dinner last year?"

"Um, carjacking," I answer. It's been about fifteen minutes since I told Brooke my secret, and she's taking it surprisingly well. She's used the last fifteen minutes grilling me about all the times I missed a date or showed up late for something. "And on the topic of dinners, our anniversary? Apartment fire."

Brooke laughs. "That's why you smelled like smoke!" It's so fun to watch the pieces fall together, and to know that I'll never have to lie to her again. "Oh my God, I don't believe it. What about the Fall Formal?"

I scratch my chin. "Armed robbery. You remember it rained that night? Well, I left my clothes outside on a roof, and when I came back, they were soaked." Brooke cracks up laughing, and I smile. "I had to go running back to my house to get changed, and by the time I made it back, the dance was almost over."

"Wow. And all these times, I thought Jim was just making up lame excuses for you because he was a good friend. He was in on it the whole time, huh?"

I nod. "Yeah, Jim's been a godsend. He's covered my butt and helped me clean myself up more times than I can count. It's a good thing he's not squeamish about blood."

Brooke gets up from the bed and begins to wander around the room aimlessly. She smiles to herself as she thinks about everything I've told her in the last fifteen minutes. "Okay, so your original powers were strength, wall-crawling, jumping, and the blade things."

"And then I had the secondary mutation and got stinger blasts and an exoskeleton shield."

"So...are you going to get more powers?"

I shake my head. "No. The doc said a third mutation would be extremely rare. Besides, what else could I get? Wings? Little feelers on my head?" I stick my fingers behind my head and wiggle them around.

"Ew, stop it!" Brooke laughs.

Man, this feels great. To be able to spill my guts like this, to be able to talk to Brooke about all this crazy stuff. I sometimes imagined what this day would be like, but I never thought it would be so rewarding. "Hey, about that other thing you were talking about earlier...did you mean it?"

"You mean, the other thing?" Brooke responds cryptically. She stares straight at the ground as she says, "Well, yeah. I mean, if there was ever anyone I thought I was ready to...you know...it'd be you, Sean."

I stand up slowly, crossing the room towards her. "I feel the same way," I tell her softly. I put my hands on her hips, and we kiss. A few seconds later, I feel something tugging on the back of my costume. We break the kiss, giggling, as I suggest, "Let me help with that."

I lift the green spandex shirt over my head and let it drop to the floor. I stand before Brooke shirtless as she stares at the various scrapes and scars along my body. She's never gotten such a close look at them before. She reaches out and touches a scar along the right side of my chest. I recoil at the touch.

"That's from a fight with Crystalline - this guy who can transform into anything he touches," I explain. I let her feel the soft bump of skin where the scar protrudes. "He turned into shattered glass and got me pretty good."

"What about this one?" Brooke asks, running her finger along a rounded scar near my collarbone.

"Gunshot wound. Didn't hurt as bad as you'd think. Not at first, anyway."

"And this one?"

"Slashed by a knife." Brooke continues to feel her way slowly across my torso, stopping to examine every little cut and scrape. Her hands are warm. "I heal pretty quickly, so most of these were a lot worse than they are now. Almost all of them should go away in time."

"What about this one?" Brooke asks. She touches a soft spot on my ribs, which tickles me.

I bend my body to the side and laugh. I twist my body so I can look at the spot she's referring to. "That? That right there?" I point to it. "That's a birthmark."

Brooke squints at it. "Kinda looks like--"

"--a horse's head? I know, right?"

After that, silence falls over us. Seeing my wounds, my battle scars as it were, must make this whole thing start to feel real for Brooke. I mean, sure, it's fun to laugh about all the times I gave some phony excuse for showing up late to a date, but it's only funny because I did eventually show up. I know the risks of what I'm doing. I could very well die out there. These scars prove it. And that must be heavy for Brooke.

"Look, we don't have to do this right now."

Brooke looks at me. I see a lot of things in her eyes. She's going through a lot right now. She reaches up and puts her hand against my neck. "I want to," she assures me.

And in typical Hollywood cliché fashion, everything starts to slow down as Brooke and I kiss. My body moves - I'm sure of it - but it feels more like gliding as we drift over to her bed. We land on the mattress, but it might as well be a cloud. I start to lose track of the details, the intricate little movements we make as we undress, as I get caught up in the sensation.

God help me, I love this girl.
​

 

[Byrd Man]

Previously

Spoiler

Pierce's car takes a sharp corner and I hold on to the dashboard as hard as I can. "Dispatch, this is 10-19," Pierce says into his radio. "Requesting backup to the civic center as soon as possible. We have a possible code 18 at the civic center."

Pierce zooms around another corner and pulls his ringing cell phone form his coat pocket.

"Two hands, Nick. Ten and two! Ten and two!"

Pierce ignores me and talks to whoever is on the other side of the call. He hangs up with a little smirk on his face. "We got the Apostle's ID. Mark Henry Jones. Age 27. He's been in and out of psych wards his whole life. His last arrest was two years ago when he stalked a televangelist he believed was the devil. The name and mugshot match the sketch we got."

Pierce comes to a skidding stop outside the civic center. He jumps out his car and runs up to a patrolman waiting by the sidewalk. "Sergeant Pierce, Major Case Squad." Pierce quickly pulls out his cuffs and slaps them on the man's wrists. "You're under arrest."

I climb out of the car as Pierce struggles with the patrolman. Pierce wrestles him to the ground. "Nice disguise, Mark. But I saw it coming in my vision."

The Apostle looks up at me from the ground and snarls. "You goddamn interloper!"

"Taking the Lord's name in vain? That hardly sounds like the language of one of His disciples."

"**** you, Cayce! You may have denied me my martyrdom, but I will still show the world of your charlatan antics. You may have stopped me, but there are still explosives rigged throughout the civic center. You have five minutes."

The Apostle's face breaks out in a wide and disturbing grin. "Will you be able to sleep at night when you have the death of so many on you conscious? Burn in Hell, demonspawn!"

Pierce and I trade a look. "C'mon, Cayce. We have to get in there. The bomb squad won't be here in time. Backup is on the way, I'll radio them and tell them to put Jones in the back of a squadcar."

I look down at the Apostle, who's grin has now taken on look of pure insanity. "You will fail, Cayce. And I will be here to laugh. '"And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood...'"

"Cayce!" Pierce yells to grab my attention. "Goddammit, we gotta go!"

I turn away from the Apostle and begin running towards the Civic Center steps right behind Pierce. From behind us, I hear the Apostle scream.

"And the stars of heaven fell unto the earth!"

I try keep up with Pierce through the corridors of the Civic Center. He runs ahead frantically until he comes to a stop and smacks his hand against the wall. "This is useless!" Pierce yells in frustration. "No way we can find a bomb in five minutes."

"We're playing a rigged game. The Apostle knows it."

"Well, use that gift of yours, dammit! Find it!"

I give Pierce a look and slip my gloves off. I'm used to hearing and feeling the psychic buzz, a type of energy that calls me to certain objects. This time I don't hear or feel anything. "I'm not getting anything."

"You better hurry up and find something," Pierce snarls. "We need to find out where that bomb is!"

"I can't feel anything!" I yell back. "Nothing at all, okay!"

"What about that vision, huh? Where was the explosion in your last vision?"

Pierce's question puts it all in place. I think back to my vision, and the explosion from above. I dart off down the hallway and rush to the closest stairwell. I take the steps two at a time as I climb higher and higher. I come bursting out of the stairwell onto the rooftop. Pierce is right behind me with his gun ready just in case. We both stomp across the gravel covered rooftop and come to a stop when we see the device sitting on the roof.

"There it is."

A metal suitcase sitting on the roof, the case open and displaying the packs of C4, wires, and the time display. The bomb's seconds tick off. Just two minutes left until it explodes.

"Not enough time to get the bomb squad here."

I can feel the bomb calling to me, begging me to touch it and see what secrets the device holds. I hold my hand out and squat down, inching closer to the bomb's case. I place my hand on the edge of the case and let the vision take me.

***********

I watch the Apostle push open the door and walk across the roof with the bomb in his hands. He lays the case down on the ground and pops it open. I walk over and bend down behind him to get a better look as he starts things up. He places the wires in the right places before adding a small sensor on the outside of the case. What's that for?

***********
​

Pierce's shoulder knocks me out of my trance. He jabs his finger forward and I see the seconds on the display are now flying by. "Booby trap!"

Two minutes becomes a half minute, becomes a full minute, becomes thirty seconds. I think back to my vision and how the Apostle put the bomb together. I reach down into the case and yank out a group of wires. The clock display stops at five seconds and shuts down suddenly. Both Pierce and I breath a sigh of relief. I stand up and wipe the sweat from my brow.

The rest of the LHPD arrive on the scene and begin taking charge. The bomb squad takes care of the device and gets rid of it while other officers check every inch of the building for anymore devices. I let them do their thing and go out to the front of the Civic Center where the Apostle sits in the back of a police car, handcuffs on his wrist.

"You failed," is the first thing I say to him as soon as I approach the car door. The Apostle looks at me from the other side of the glass and smirks. "No, no I didn't."

"We stopped your bombs, I'm still alive, and you're going to jail. I'd say that's a lose-lose situation for you."

"Still don't get it, Cayce? You may have won, but it wasn't easy. You beat me based on sheer luck. I made you doubt yourself, I exposed the chinks in your armor. I may be going to jail, but I have exposed you for the false prophet you really are. It doesn't matter, though. When He calls me, I'll be ready to accept my reward by walking side by side with Him on the golden streets of Heaven. Like His son, who died on Calvary, my suffering is not without purpose, for it is His plan and I am his humble servant."

I shake my head and walk away. I turn back as the Apostle begins singing.

"When the shadows of this life have gone, I'll fly away; Like a bird from prison bars has flown, I'll fly away."

A uniformed office gets into the car and starts it up. I watch the Apostle as the car begins to go down the road. Our eyes lock for a moment and his manic grin still persist even as he sings.

"I'll fly away, fly away, Oh Glory l'll fly away; in the morning
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by, I'll fly away."

The car keeps on going and the singing begins to fade. Only I'm left behind, standing in the middle of the streets and watching as the cop car until it disappears from view.
​

 

[trustyside-kick]

OOC: Previously...

Lost Haven
Bronze District

I cannot even fly fast enough the guy towards me by like...30 feet or so. He snatches me easily, clenched in his monster grip, and brings me close to his monstrous and hideous face. I cannot tell if he is pissed off or happy it is really hard to gauge when he has taken the form of some hideous monster that I do not even know what to call it.

"He thought that you were such a threat, but this sad. Once I dispose of you, then I'm going to be able to pay my father a visit."

Father, eh? Daddy issues, mayhaps? I try to speak, but it is so hard when he is nearly crushing my entire body he is so strong. My super strength and endurance given to me after the Goddess incident is the only think keeping me alive.

"You...are you monologuing? Really? Seriously? And you call me...sad."

"Trying to mock me when you are mere seconds away from being crushed alive?"

"Got...a better...idea?"

He lets out an evil chuckle that literally echoes and booms throughout the city. Looking around as he towers most of the city, I can see he spots something. That is most definitely a disgusting smile across his face; full of so much glee. Crap, I know exactly what comes next. He looks back over me, and brings back the arm he is holding me in.

"I hear the Carnival is in town. Let us have some...FUN!"

He hurls me, and now I know what it feels like to be launched from a cannon. A very...large...disgustingly powerful...cannon.


Lost Haven
Bronze District
The Carnival Fair

The...grounds of the Carnival Fair is what breaks my fall. Not even with my angel-fire wings could I try to stop myself midway in air but at least I slowed myself down preventing as strong an impact. Still, as I'm getting up from the small crater I just created from my rough landing, as innocent bystanders cry and scream as they run around scared, I try to keep my posture. I'm the hero after all. Gotta look strong.

And then I fall over.

"Hahahahahehehehahahaahahaha."

He walks over, reverting back to his regular form as he makes his way to me as I'm trying to figure out which way is up and is there is a down. Eventually though, I get on one knee just in time to watch him tower me as he stares me down.

"What? Nothing to say, now? Still trying to breathe?"

Yes, actually.

"This really is easier than he made it out to be."

Will you stop toying with him, and end him already? Do not take him lightly. He will be a threat if you give him the time to be.

Who...has this villain had a direct tie to one of The Seven? Bath Kol told me he would merely be drawn to them, unknowingly. And it doesn't help that for this one I cannot tell what Sin he represents. Because right now, he seems to be surely embracing more than one.

"So, is this where you turn into another hideous creature you have imagined in your head and bite my head off? I mean, you've had at least 2 or 3 chances to kill me already, yet here I am. Toying with your food, are we?"

"I'll admit, this has been a bit of an enjoyment. But you and him are right."

There he goes, mentioning something else again. Early, he seemed to be going into some internal struggle like his head was being crushed or something, cradling it and such. Is there...someone else in his head or something?

"Time to end you. However I can still have fun with this. And, no, I am not going to conjure up a form from my own imagination or that of another's I have taken."

...Taken?

Suddenly, he grabs my head like it is a melon. His grip is so damn strong, I cannot break free. He...stares at me, and even though his face his covered by a mask I can tell he is smiling underneath. I cannot tell what is happening, but then his eyes glow a bright red, and he tosses me backward.

"You see, I just looked into the inner workings of your mind, Archangel. That is what I do. With the power given to me, I can peak into your nightmares and..."

He starts to change shape again, his body starting to morph at different parts around him. Great, what is he going to turn into now. Oh, crap.

No...

...no.

How is this possible?

"...find your inner most fear, and..."

"...make it a reality."

 

[Blacklight]

Chapter 6
​

Blacklight then seized the moment and took to the air in search of the prism, but as he made headway, something blocked his path, and it was dark figure of sorts. One that delivered a vicious, two-handed blow to Blacklight's head, knocking him out of the air and crashing into the sandy ground below...

"Damn it... I knew something was wrong here." he muttured under his breath.

But as he recovered, rubbing his head, he looked up and saw who the figure was, and gasped in utter horror and shock.

"No. It can't be..."

It was.

The Ace up the Master of Darkness's sleeve.

An Eighth Harbinger.

Spoiler

[BLACKOUT]"Surprised to see me?"[/BLACKOUT]

Dressed in an outfit identical to that of his greatest archenemy, Jon could only draw one conclusion as to who the final Harbinger was.

"...Nightking?"

[BLACKOUT]"No. Not Nightking..."[/BLACKOUT] the villain corrected him as he slowly removed the crested helmet from his head.

[BLACKOUT]"...They call me The Descender,"[/BLACKOUT] he said as the horrific image of the figure's face revealed itself.

It was Jon himself. Or rather another one of his alternate selves. One that allowed himself to be taken over by the Descender Sword, and thus, became a ruthless monster of pure evil.

[BLACKOUT]"Like looking in a mirror, ain't it?"[/BLACKOUT]

Utterly speechless, Blacklight stood idle, praising and cursing his situation at the same time. Cursing the fact that his greatest foe yet, and the potential destroyer of the universe was none other than himself, yet praising the fact that it wasn't actually him trying to destroy reality, but a version of Jon that submitted to the darkness he fought back against all those years back.

But the metallic sound of a sword being unsheathed derailed his train of thought, as he saw the familiar glimmer of the Emerald Blade being drawn.

Not allowing for another unexpected attack, Jon withdrew his own weapon of choice: His diamond staff.

They both stood as they waited for the other to strike, but it was Blacklight who was the first to attack this time.

Using tactical swings of his weapon, he was trying his best to hit the villain, but naturally the Descender was able to predict his movements, blocking each blow with the sword that amplified his abilities.

Damn. I need to switch tactics...

With one hand, BL fired a blacklight energy beam at his foe's head, aiming to knock him out, but the Descender ducked out of the way with ease.

[BLACKOUT]"I admire your skills. But,"[/BLACKOUT] he started as he fired a negative-energy blast of his own from his sword, [BLACKOUT]"I know everything you're going to do before you even think it."[/BLACKOUT]

The blast hit Blacklight square in the chest. Doubling over in pain, he realized how right the Descender was. As well as how his efforts were futile because of this.

The sword. It's helping him to predict my moves.

[BLACKOUT]"After all... I'm you."[/BLACKOUT]

This is bad. But I can't give up. I'm not going to let them get to that Prism...

I WILL find a way to defeat this twisted version of me. I SWEAR it.

Getting back up, Jon smirked. He's been in rough situations like this. Heck, he helped repel a hostile takeover of Earth at the hands of alien invaders. This should be a cakewalk.

Readying his weapon, Blacklight stood ready for Round 2. He even signified it with the classic "Come get some" hand gesture.

"Bring it."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Kevin recites the contents of the note inside the envelope as he prepares himself.

199 East 32nd Ave.
Top Floor

He gets his gauntlets on, then adjusts them so they are placed just right for maximum efficiency.

199 East 32nd Ave.
Top Floor

Midas has taken everything from him. His past, present and future have all been destroyed by this one man.

First his father was murdered by Midas, which is what started his obsession with taking the crime lord down. Since then, Kevin has spent his life preparing to bring the man to justice. His own personal crusade for justice has taken top priority in his life, sacrificing relationships and his personal life along the way. And now Midas has taken the woman who he had planned to spend the rest of his life with.

That is no longer an option because Midas killed her...proving that he is nothing more than a coward with a gun.


199 East 32nd Ave.
Top Floor

Kevin pulls his mask over his head, and is now ready. He knows that Midas will be waiting for him, but he has something that Midas doesn't have...

Nothing to lose.

Tonight, this all ends...one way or another.

199 East 32nd Ave.
Top Floor

Shadow Walker lurks in the darkness, watching. He had expected to find a legion of Midas' men overrunning the building, each wanting to be the one who finally took out the vigilante who had made their employer's life a living hell over these last months.

Instead, he found nothing.

The building is empty, the hallways and corridors on every floor a virtual ghost town, which for a building of this size is almost unheard of. Shadow Walker cautiously moves down the hallyway which leads to a massive set of opulent oak doors. As he approaches the door, he notes the intricate designs carved into the wood. Under normal circumstances, he would have been dually impressed with the artistry, but now they were just in his way. He reaches for the door knob and attempts to open the door.

Locked.

He reaches back, about hit the door with everything he's got, hoping that the door will splinter under the blows, and if it doesn't...he'll continue pounding until they do.

Then he hears something.

"So you got my message. I was starting to wonder if you'd show up." Said a voice from the intercom system. Then there was a buzzing sound, the doors swung open.

"This ends tonight Midas." Shadow Walker says as he stides into the room, looking at the man who had left him with nothing to live for.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

​

London

Traffic has come to a standstill on the London Bridge as one of the famed London Trollies, full of passengers had lost control and crashed through the pedestrian walkway, and then the outter support cables, and now hangs perilously over the edge, threatening to careen into the River Thames below.

The panicked crowd of stranded motorists and pedestrians alike watches on in horror as the trolly teeters closer and closer to disaster. The crowd looks on, helpless as they are unable to do anything for those trapped on board.

Then someone spots it, coming from the skies, an object moving at incredible speed toward the bridge. As it gets closer, the crowd is hushed as it sees that the object is a man...the familiar form of the superhero Icon.

He brings himself to the front of the trolley, and begins pushing against it until finally it is pushed back to the safety of the bridge. The gathered crowd cheers, many of them calling his name, others taking pictures with their cell phone cameras. He just smiles, gives a nod of acknowledgement and takes to the skies again, leaving the bystanders on the bridge, giving them a story to tell their friends and families for the rest of their days.

***


​

Lost Haven

Ever since her small vessel crash landed on this planet several days ago, she has been living a waking nightmare.

Moments after her vessel crashed, she was surrounded by strange lights and sounds, and beings dressed from head to toe in black converging on the ship.

She had barely gotten free of her craft when they had arrived, strapping it to large vehicle, covering it with a tarp and taking it away. Since then, these men have been pursuing her, and almost caught her several times, but she had managed to escape from their clutches. Fortunately, she seems to have lost them, but now she finds herself with another problem...she is lost, frightened and hungry.

Over the last day and a half, she has begun to learn the language of the native people, and has begun to be able to communicate with them as long as the conversations don't last very long.

She hears something...the familiar sound of a heavy vehicle. She looks over her shoulder and sees one of the armored black vehicles driven by the same men who took her ship. A cold fear gnaws at her stomach as she ducks behind a bush...It's not safe here...she knows that she has to get away from these people, and the only way she knows how is to get lost in the crowded streets of the city.​

 

[NiteMare Shape]

​

Icon had almost forgotten how good it feels.

Soaring high above the city streets, feeling the wind against his body...below him the city that he loves. While he was in exile, he rarely, if ever used any of his abilities, and never flew. It wasn't until he had returned to Lost Haven did he realize just how much he had missed it.

He had his reasons for leaving then, and he stands by the decision. He knows that at the time, it was the right choice to make. After the death of his sister, he tracked her killer down and nearly killed him in cold blood. It was only with the intervention of his friend Haze, who killed the animal first, which prevented him from crossing a line that he could never return from.

But that is in the past.

Icon had returned, and not a moment too soon. The city has seen two terrorist attacks carried out by metahumans. The first was the destruction of the Lost Haven Gala Hotel, in which numerous members of the city's elite were lost. Then the destruction of the Harrison Bridge during rush hour a day later. Over 2300 people lost in that attack, and the death toll continues rising.

His thoughts are interrupted as his enhanced hearing picks up something going on below. Panicked screams and the sounds of vehicles crashing...and gunshots.

What now? He thinks to himself, and with a single adjustment, he changes course and heads for the source of the chaos.