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

[NiteMare Shape]

Like any other day in Lost Haven, Jeff Thomas makes his way from the same little corner deli when he gets his lunch back to his office to finish out his work day.

Today however, is no ordinary day.

He looks to the skies, like he often does...but this time he sees something. Something flying through the air, not a plane...not a helicopter...a man.

Jeff watches in amazement as the flying figure closes in on Sherman Square. He can't help but wonder who the figure is. At first, he thought it was Icon or perhaps even the S.T.R.I.K.E. wonderkind Spartan, but as the figure approached he realized that this was somebody else entirely...somebody new.

As the strange figure touched down, Jeff felt a sudden twinge of fear as he gazed upon the twisted features of this new arrival to Lost Haven. The strange greyish pallor to his skin, the odd black discoloration to the bottom half of his face...the sinister grin.

With a mixture of blazing speed and raw power, the stranger went to work, reaping devestation in Sherman Square.

To Jeff, it was as if a bomb had suddenly gone off. One moment he was gazing at the strange visitor, the next he's flying through the air, landing in a heap.

Laying on the ground, his head pounding, Jeff slowly begins to stir. He begins to sit up, and as he does he panics as he sees cars and other debris sailing past him.

He scrambles to his feet and begins running, chancing a look behind him. That is when his final thought strikes him like a ton of bricks...this stranger who has wrought so much chaos and destruction on only moments...is laughing.

 

[bkhedr]

The Corrector​

Dawn is just about to break over Lost Haven and it has been a good night. As has become typical for me I spent most of the night here, in my secret underground lair, watching my robot minions before their assigned tasks with cold, clockwork, efficiency.

Secret Underground Lair. Robot Minions.

The words still seem ridiculous to me even after all this time, but I suppose that is what they are after all; and if I’m to accomplish my goals I will need them, and countless other ridiculous things as well no doubt.

I lean back in my chair and take in the familiar surroundings of the vast complex that serves as my primary base of operations. It had taken a decade or work and more money than I care to recall to build it, not to mention the filling of a few dozen shallow graves to insure that its existence remained a secret; but it had certainly been worth it. Of all my lairs, this is the finest, the most well equipped and the most advanced. Built underneath several hundred feet of bedrock and lined with titanium alloy walls nearly three feet thick, my fortress is the equal of any bunker and a match for any meta’s fists. Of course they would have to find it first and with my scrambling equipment, my light bending camouflage and all the other counter surveillance technology I’ve set up I doubt the massive complex, with its myriad labs and bays and workshops, would be spotted if I had built in the middle of town square. Yes the lair had definitely been worth the expense and I allow myself a self satisfied grin as I consider how much I have already accomplished.

Even as I do so another piece of my master plan is falling into place. On one of the myriad screens on the wall before me I watch a pair of robots through the eyes of a third as they burst into a civilian high tech laboratory and gun down a hapless security guard. Two of the robots stand guard while the third makes his way to the wall safe in the back of the lab. Security and alarms at the lab have already been disabled and a suitable distraction has been arranged to keep police or any metas from arriving on the scene too quickly. The two robots stand guard as an added precaution only but I still keep my eyes glued to the screen for any signs of trouble as the robot rips the safe door off of its hinges and retrieves everything inside. I don’t want it all of course, just the schematics for the prototype rocket the government had hired the lab to produce. Its in my interest to keep track of such things and I am well aware that a certain researcher had just achieved a startling breakthrough in propulsion and had yet to report it to his employers. The young scientist is currently lying dead in his apartment and his breakthrough will soon be mine.

Once upon a time I would have considered this lazy. After all my intelligence dwarfs that of anyone else on the planet, and if I put my mind to it I could have no doubt achieved the same breakthrough. But that would take time and money and it is a much simpler affair to simply acquire the technology and build off of it. In a week I’ll have a rocket engine the likes of which poor deceased Professor Snider could only hope to imagine. I continue to watch the monitor until I’m certain the robots have made their exit before I lean back in my chair once more, scanning the many screens.

What I see is encouraging and infuriating at the same time. While every success is obviously satisfying the fact that any of this is necessary is aggravating to say the least. War, famine, disease, greed, corruption, humanity is killing this planet, killing itself. I know. I’ve run the numbers. I could help them, solve their problems myself, balance their budgets, but they wouldn’t listen and even if they did it would be a generation, two at most, before they reverted to form. I’ve run those numbers too.

Years ago I often asked myself why I cared, why any of it mattered. I’d try to convince myself to just let it go. Let them keep dying a slow death, I’d be long dead before this civilization hit critical mass. I could take advantage of the chaos and stupidity, use my intellect to build up a vast fortune and live like a king; but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t turn a blind eye, not because I pitied them, but because I pitied myself for having to live among them. No. I couldn’t sit idly by I had to make things right for the sake of my own sanity. Hence the lairs, the robots, the plans, its for their own good, but its for me, not them.

Not for the first time I find myself making a fist when contemplating such matters and I’m suddenly pushing myself out of my chair and stalking across the room. I’ve been down here, monitoring, supervising, planning, for too long. Too long since I’ve felt that rush I felt the first time I robbed my first bank in Germany twenty years ago. Banks are small change now, their reserves nothing more than a drop in the bucket that is my financial resources, but just because I’m a genius doesn’t mean I don’t have an ego. Its not like I ever claimed to be perfect and I’ve been in the dark, living in anonymity for too long.

I reach the locker and peer into the retinal scanner. There’s a second’s delay before the reinforced steel door slides open and I find myself staring at my reflection in my mask. I reach underneath the mask and retrieve my uniform from the metal hook underneath. Even with my enhanced strength I can still feel its weight. The tough fiber and steel inlays woven into it that make it unlike any other BDU on the planet and as I slip into it I feel as though I’m taking off my disguise and donning my true identity. The boots and belt and gloves go on, followed by the tight fitting cap, then I reach for the mask, its practically weightless and as I slip it on and the HUD comes to life I feel like I am seeing the world the way it was meant to be seen. A simple mental command and four of my mechanized minions buzz to life in the back of the room. I can feel my own sense of power as I watch them and its intoxicating.

Today is going to be a day they will all remember. Today I reintroduce myself to the World.

 

[bkhedr]

double post​

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Like any other day in Lost Haven, Jeff Thomas makes his way from the same little corner deli when he gets his lunch back to his office to finish out his work day.

Today however, is no ordinary day.

He looks to the skies, like he often does...but this time he sees something. Something flying through the air, not a plane...not a helicopter...a man.

Jeff watches in amazement as the flying figure closes in on Sherman Square. He can't help but wonder who the figure is. At first, he thought it was Icon or perhaps even the S.T.R.I.K.E. wonderkind Spartan, but as the figure approached he realized that this was somebody else entirely...somebody new.

As the strange figure touched down, Jeff felt a sudden twinge of fear as he gazed upon the twisted features of this new arrival to Lost Haven. The strange greyish pallor to his skin, the odd black discoloration to the bottom half of his face...the sinister grin.

With a mixture of blazing speed and raw power, the stranger went to work, reaping devestation in Sherman Square.

To Jeff, it was as if a bomb had suddenly gone off. One moment he was gazing at the strange visitor, the next he's flying through the air, landing in a heap.

Laying on the ground, his head pounding, Jeff slowly begins to stir. He begins to sit up, and as he does he panics as he sees cars and other debris sailing past him.

He scrambles to his feet and begins running, chancing a look behind him. That is when his final thought strikes him like a ton of bricks...this stranger who has wrought so much chaos and destruction on only moments...is laughing.

Within moments of his sudden and violent arrival in Sherman Square, the being known only by his creators as The Hybrid finds himself surrounded by a small army of Lost Haven Police officers.

"You're kidding, right?" He says to no one in particular as the sound of helicopter rotors approach from a distance.

He stands there for a moment as the police officer in charge bellows orders for him to stand down, even as the black SUV's that have become synonomous with S.T.R.I.K.E. flood into the square.

When he refuses to stand down, the combined forces of the Lost Haven Police department and the S.T.R.I.K.E. task force sent in to contain the situation open fire.

"Sorry boys, I think you're just alittle out of your league here." He says as he unleashes a pair of white hot beams from his eyes, incinerating the men before him.

"Told you." He says.

Then he looks to the sky, and sees the fleet of black choppers approaching from the west, bearing down on his position.

And he smiles.

***​

Scott and Keira sit alone in the back of The Gulu, a small European style diner in the heart of the Eastman section of Lost Haven. They engage in light conversation over lunch. Over the last few days they have been seeing more and more of each other, and although Scott was hesitant at first, he's embraced the sudden emergence of a budding relationship.​

"So yeah...you really should come by. It'll be nice to have a friendly face in the crowd." She says, discussing an upcoming open mic night where she'll be singing with her friend Clara.​

"Yeah, it sounds like a blast. I'll be....." He stops as his enhanced hearing picks up the sounds of gunshots and explosions ringing out across the city.​

"I have to run, there's something going on." He says, not waiting for her response.​

Keira just watches as he rushes from the diner, smirking, she shakes her head as she goes back to her food.​

***​

Icon soars high above the city racing toward Sherman Square, the source of all the commotion. He has seen alot in the time that he has been doing this, but he is not prepared for what he finds when he arrives at Sherman Square. The beautiful square, which for years has been a destination for locals and visitors alike has been transformed into a complete warzone, devestation which has not been seen since the Invasion.​

A smouldering fire burns in many of the shops and resteraunts that make up the square, the street littered with burnt out vehicles, downed choppers, and much to Icon's horror, bodies. And in the center of it all, a lone figure stands amid the chaos, marveling in the destruction.​

"I don't know who you are, but you're going to pay for what you've done here." ​

The man responsible just looks to Icon and grins.​

"Finally. Now we can really have some fun."​

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Within moments of his sudden and violent arrival in Sherman Square, the being known only by his creators as The Hybrid finds himself surrounded by a small army of Lost Haven Police officers.

"You're kidding, right?" He says to no one in particular as the sound of helicopter rotors approach from a distance.

He stands there for a moment as the police officer in charge bellows orders for him to stand down, even as the black SUV's that have become synonomous with S.T.R.I.K.E. flood into the square.

When he refuses to stand down, the combined forces of the Lost Haven Police department and the S.T.R.I.K.E. task force sent in to contain the situation open fire.

"Sorry boys, I think you're just alittle out of your league here." He says as he unleashes a pair of white hot beams from his eyes, incinerating the men before him.

"Told you." He says.

Then he looks to the sky, and sees the fleet of black choppers approaching from the west, bearing down on his position.

And he smiles.

***​

Scott and Keira sit alone in the back of The Gulu, a small European style diner in the heart of the Eastman section of Lost Haven. They engage in light conversation over lunch. Over the last few days they have been seeing more and more of each other, and although Scott was hesitant at first, he's embraced the sudden emergence of a budding relationship.​

"So yeah...you really should come by. It'll be nice to have a friendly face in the crowd." She says, discussing an upcoming open mic night where she'll be singing with her friend Clara.​

"Yeah, it sounds like a blast. I'll be....." He stops as his enhanced hearing picks up the sounds of gunshots and explosions ringing out across the city.​

"I have to run, there's something going on." He says, not waiting for her response.​

Keira just watches as he rushes from the diner, smirking, she shakes her head as she goes back to her food.​

***​

Icon soars high above the city racing toward Sherman Square, the source of all the commotion. He has seen alot in the time that he has been doing this, but he is not prepared for what he finds when he arrives at Sherman Square. The beautiful square, which for years has been a destination for locals and visitors alike has been transformed into a complete warzone, devestation which has not been seen since the Invasion.​

A smouldering fire burns in many of the shops and resteraunts that make up the square, the street littered with burnt out vehicles, downed choppers, and much to Icon's horror, bodies. And in the center of it all, a lone figure stands amid the chaos, marveling in the destruction.​

"I don't know who you are, but you're going to pay for what you've done here." ​

The man responsible just looks to Icon and grins.​

"Finally. Now we can really have some fun."​

Icon stares in sickened amazement at the utter destruction that this being has wraught on the square, and a stoic resolve takes ahold of him.

"I don't know why you've done this, but it's over. You're coming with me."

"Oh...I don't think so, blue boy."

Icon grabs the Hybrid by the shoulder, "Now." He says forcefully, just as the Hybrid counters, blasting Icon with an optic blast square in the face.

Staggering back, Icon is hit with a powerful right hand that sends Icon crashing clear through the side of a nearby building, his momentum taking him out the other side.

Icon lays in a daze in the street on where he finally came to a stop after crashing through the other side of the building. As he gathers his bearings he looks up and sees the form of his attacker staring down at him.

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

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon stares in sickened amazement at the utter destruction that this being has wraught on the square, and a stoic resolve takes ahold of him.

"I don't know why you've done this, but it's over. You're coming with me."

"Oh...I don't think so, blue boy."

Icon grabs the Hybrid by the shoulder, "Now." He says forcefully, just as the Hybrid counters, blasting Icon with an optic blast square in the face.

Staggering back, Icon is hit with a powerful right hand that sends Icon crashing clear through the side of a nearby building, his momentum taking him out the other side.

Icon lays in a daze in the street on where he finally came to a stop after crashing through the other side of the building. As he gathers his bearings he looks up and sees the form of his attacker staring down at him.

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

Before Icon can move, the Hybrid places his foot over the hero's throat and begins stepping down. Icon struggles as his lungs begin to burn from the lack of fresh oxygen. Finally, Icon is able to free himself, grabbing his attacker and hurling him into the side of an empty bus.

Icon gets to his feet, only to find that his enemy is already standing.

"Who are you?" Icon asks, unable to hide the surprise from his voice.

"I'm you. And me...I'm what you get when they take the best of us and mix it with the worst. I'm what you might call...The Hybrid."

"What is it that you want? Why are you doing this?"

"Because...it's fun."

Icon just looks at the Hybrid before he moves in on his enemy.

"You're insane."

"No kidding. What was your first clue?"

Icon moves toward The Hybrid, who in turn sidesteps the hero, landing a flurry of punches at super speed. The attack leaves Icon dazed for an instant, but that is all Hybrid needs. With impossible speed, speed not seen since the Blue Blur, Hybrid gets several miles of separation between he and Icon before taking to the skies...leaving Icon standing alone in the street pondering exactly what had just happened.

 

[Guardian7]

also featuring

---------------LOCATION--------------
STARHAVEN BASE, EARTH’S SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE
​

Aboard the massive and cloaked space station called Starhaven. Thunderstar prepared to use a teleportation device of advanced alien design to send him and his fellow ‘Onguard’ team mates to the site of a crater impact in Novi Scotia, Canada.
Once there the renowned Unicorn was hoping he could hone in on a piece of unusual whitish blue moonstone that have engravings on them.
The team was surprised by Thunderstar’s revealing the obviously Alien built space station.
They had good reason. Less than a year ago the Earth was ravaged by Alien Invaders.
The destruction of the slowly being restored Moon was one of their first attacks on Earth and possible the most devastating.
Now, A piece of Alien hardware had come into their lives. Some of the members were understandably wary.

Inside the spanning Starhaven. Thunderstar walked up to a large flat girded platform. It was a two-tone blue with the lighter shade forming what looked like millions of small hexagons. The fifteen foot platform was shaped like a hexagon as well.

Thunderstar ushered everyone with a hand gesture. “Step aboard my friends.”
Searay hesitated and Unicorn bumped her as he walked by her. “You’ve already done this once, if your damaged it is already too late.”
Searay made a face at Unicorn under her full mask which he could see. “In your case it would be an improvement.”
Unicorn laughed.
The Earth toned Terran was next to step on the platform, followed by enigmatic Green Flora, the brash strongman Block, the armored Paladin walked readily on the plat form as well, looking at it with fascination, Ultra walked onto it with Flamehawk and finally Thunderstar made his way onto the platform. “Coming Searay?”
Searay shook her head and stepped onto the platform.
Seconds ticked by and nothing happened.
Then nearly a full minute.
Green Flora looked puzzled, asking. “Is it broken?”
Uncharacteristically, Searay felt a moment of panic. “Were trapped here?”
“Nah! I was just screwing with you all.” Thunderstar started laughing and the others joined in.
“Computer, link go transport ”
Everyone in the room suddenly turned to bluish-white energy, which seemed to run up each one of them in perfect bright lines of the same color, then they seemed to collapse within each space the heroes stood in and vanished.

Suddenly they appeared in a rocky grass pocketed field.
They all turned to see the massive crater of the Moon chunk that had struck the earth here. It shook all the surrounding towns, Fortunately not a lot of people were harmed.
Searay spoke up in a commanding tone. “Since Unicorn is the only one who can sense these things. I suggest we have a search team and a security team. Unicorn, Green Flora, Terran and Thunderstar can all seek out the pieces, The rest of us will watch their backs. Ultra and Paladin, could you scout the parameter of the Crater? See if anything pops out that might be of interest.”
Unicorn nodded. “Works for me. Let’s do this, it’s a big crater."
Unicorn led the three heroes with him as they searched through the craggy debris on a gigantic slab of stone that Terran used to defy gravity with.
Unicorn sought out that strange sensation he had when near the blue moonstone.
Searay, Flamehawk and Block stood on the edge of the crater watching the four colorful heroes slowly move across the crater.
Block stepped closer to the edge and turned around. “I think I should contact my brother. Though we can’t form Tri-Force yet. Because we used up our limit for the day. If I tell him what is going on… At least he will have a heads up. Optic should probably know too.”
Searay smiled under her mask. “That is not a bad plan. You can all communicate telepathically with one another. Right?”
Block nodded yes to her as he turned and looked out over the crater.
Flamehawk stood there feeling rather useless, then a thought crossed his mind. “Block… what is the nature of the Tarot’s abilities?”
Searay looked over at Flamehawk, as her digitally enhanced vision watched Ultra and Paladin rounding the furthest point of the crater.
Block shrugged. “I dunno… all of their powers seemed to be different.”
Searay nodded. “Would you call their powers… Magic?”
Block shook his head yes. “The things they did. They varied and were all over the board. That High Priestess chick did all kinds of crazy things… including growing a pair of black and white pillars. So yeah… Magic.”
Searay frowned. “I hate magic, It is so unpredictable. You never know what is coming next.”
Flamehawk looked at Searay. “Well I might known someone who can help us, Someone VERY magical. His name is Golden Pharaoh.”
Searay did a slow turn. “The Golden Pharaoh from Egypt? Wow… he is very powerful from what I hear.”
Flamehawk smiled. “Yeah… he is a pretty tough guy. Younger than you would think.”
Block sat on a huge chunk of boulder. “Sounds good. After we got our butts handed to us this last time. I wouldn’t mind a little powerful ‘Get even’ guy on our side. With both him and Paladin helping us. They may have bitten off more than they could chew.”
Searay frowned. “From what you all described, I wouldn’t count them down so easily.”
Block grimaced. “You know Searay, Why don’t you let me get a little hyped instead of deflating everything I say. It is really annoying.” as he stalked away glaring back at Onguard’s unofficial Leader.
Searay stood there blankly.
Flamehawk couldn’t read her expression, but Searay’s body language wasn’t hard to read. “I don’t think he meant that the way it sounded.”
“Yes I did.” Block called back, as the ground suddenly exploded from his super-leap kick off. He landed near where the other three were searching for the Moonstone.
Searay stood there looking at the man who most of the time she considered an over testosteroned juvenile. “He is kind of right. I do tend to weigh things pretty heavily and simply speak facts. Maybe I should curb it a bit. At least for the moral of the team.”
Flamehawk stepped back and ignited his blazing under-wings. Shaking his head at Searay. “That is what makes you a good leader. If you didn’t say that the logical stuff. We could walk into trouble. Which is why your our leader and not Block.” He winked at Searay and spiraled a flaming trail into the air heading towards the approaching blue clad Ultra and the blue and golden armored Paladin.
Searay looked at the afternoon sky folding her arms. She threw her arms out to her side and massive underwings of her own formed. Silhouetted she would look like a giant stingray underwater. Electrical energy of a unique nature phased over the cloak interacting with ions in the atmosphere and she snapped into the air at an incredible rate of speed. Special lenses in her helmet allowed her to see her suit systems. Unlike everyone else here. Searay did not have powers… She had made hers.
She glanced over at Flamehawk as he talked with the other two flyers. Angling around the parameter of the oblong bowl that was the crater she sailed in to land silently next to the second group of Onguard. Block cast her a momentary dirty look as she approached Unicorn.
“Find anything yet?” She said with curiosity.
Unicorn shook his head. “It is a possibility that they were already here, if a piece of it was here in the first place.”
Terran smiled. “I was telling Unicorn a few minutes ago that maybe they have all of the whatever they are already.”
Unicorn shook his head. “My gut feeling says they haven’t… I get this ominous feeling whenever I think about that fragment at the Museum of Ancient and Modern Wonders. Searay… I am serious when I say, something bad is going to happen.”
Searay nodded. “Then we will continue to search when we can. I think Terran’s plan with some of us protecting New York, along with Block contacting Jet in Paris and surprisingly, Flamehawk seems to know Golden Pharoah. He said he will find out what he thinks.”
Unicorn raised his eyebrows. “Really? Well then we better get on it. I am not sensing anything here.”
Searay touched her ear. “Flamehawk, Ultra, Paladin. We’re done here. Let’s return back to Thunderstar’s Station.”
Thunderstar smiled. “Our station. I want us all to use it.”
Though Searay was understandably wary of the Station, She knew there had to be fascinating technology she might be able to put to practical use. Providing she could understand it. “Okay, Our station.”
The other three landed near the rest of the team.
Thunderstar touched the star symbol on his armor.
Everyone in the standing around him in a semi-circle suddenly turned to bluish-white energy, which seemed to run up each one of them in perfect bright lines of the same color, then they seemed to collapse within each space they stood in and vanished.

 

[Hound55]

Previously:

Spoiler

Guardians Headquarters – Main Lounge

[BLACKOUT]“Now I know you’ve been through a lot, but I’m going to have to ask you some questions. Is that OK?”[/BLACKOUT] spoke the artificial voice through the Vigilante’s mouthpiece.

The little girl nodded, her eyes deep and wet and everything about her saying “softness”.

[BLACKOUT]“OK. First of all; what’s your name?”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac said with a warm smile.

The little girl’s mind raced back to an earlier time, when the man in the white coat used to call her by his own secret name…

“Megan.” She said softly.

[BLACKOUT]“OK Megan, do you know your last name, Megan?”[/BLACKOUT]

Silence filled the room, and Lewis “Gunny” Bracken’s expression turned, he looked on quizzically. The little girl twisted slightly in her seat.

[BLACKOUT]“OK, do you know Mummy or Daddy’s name?”[/BLACKOUT]

More awkward silence made the air thicker, the little girl shifted awkwardly in her seat again. Gunny Bracken shot the Vigilante a quick look.

[BLACKOUT]“That’s OK, you’ve had a rough time. How about I go into the kitchen and make you a nice hot cup of Ovaltine or something? We’ve got lots of good stuff to eat or drink here. Would you like that?”[/BLACKOUT]

The little girl’s expression brightened immediately, as much for the prospect of a release in the pressure as anything and she gave an emphatic response in the affirmative.

“Yes, please!”

Isaac turned the TV on and checked it wasn’t something completely unsuitable before the two men left the lounge room for the kitchen. Isaac opened the fridge and got a carton of milk out when Gunny broke the silence.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, kid, but something’s not right here!” he hissed in a heavy whisper.

Isaac adjusted his mouthpiece slightly and his voice came through much quieter than usual. The elaborate movement hardly seeming worth it when his answer came forth; [BLACKOUT]“I know.”[/BLACKOUT]

“This kid pops up in the middle of Guardians Headquarters, with you pretty much dead, and then she tells ME where the defibrillator is in our building. Something is very not right about all of this…”

Isaac kept moving while he talked through his hushed mouthpiece. He went to the walk in pantry and brought back a tin of Ovaltine.

[BLACKOUT]“Well that’s new to me. But I know she’s not telling us everything. She’s fidgeting too much when you ask difficult questions and for most 8 year old kids ‘What is your last name’ is not a difficult question to bring out that kind of response…”[/BLACKOUT]

“Yeah. So what are we going to do?” Gunny asked.

Isaac paused long enough to consider the buttons on the microwave while he did the math in his head for how long it would likely take for the 1,000 watt microwave to heat the small girl’s warm drink.

[BLACKOUT]“Nothing until we get some answers. I don’t know what she’s telling the truth about, so I’m not making any moves yet… but I’ll tell you one thing. I’d stop looking at her like she’s a puzzle to solve. Because we don’t know enough about her to be making her self-conscious or nervous…”[/BLACKOUT]

“But she’s a teleporter, isn’t she… You said…”

[BLACKOUT]“I’ve got no idea what she is, but she was very happy to let me think that’s all she was. I saw that little girl explode two S.T.R.I.K.E agents heads when she thought of them as threats… Now while it’s possible that someone who could teleport matter could do that, let’s not rule out the possibility that she might be something else. Hell, I don’t even know if teleporters can move things around without going anywhere themselves.”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“…hell, I don’t even know if there are teleporters.”[/BLACKOUT] He muttered to himself afterwards.

Gunny had a vague look of fear across his face and jumped slightly, in a way that you could see was uncharacteristic for a man of his usual resolve, when the microwave alerted the pair to the completion of its task.

“Jeez… what they’re saying on the news is right, huh? These metas are some scary business…”

[BLACKOUT]“Hey! Look straight! If you can’t hold yourself together, you’d better head back to the armoury.”[/BLACKOUT]

“Nah, I think I’ll be alright. It’s strange you know; I’ve faced down heavy artillery but that little girl scares the living crap out of me…”

[BLACKOUT]“Yeah, well, it’s poker time here, if you can’t keep a straight face you’re a threat to everything.”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac said before he adjusted the mouth piece back to a regular volume, then with one last probing look at Gunny he picked up the mug and carried it back to the little girl.

[BLACKOUT]“Here you go! One hot cup of…”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac looked closely at the little girl, he hadn’t time earlier to properly inspect her or her raggedy clothes. Isaac cocked his head to the side and moved in for a closer look.

[BLACKOUT]“Just a second, Megan…”[/BLACKOUT] he walked right up to the seated little girl who began to look nervous once more, as she received more attention than she was comfortable with. With care Isaac moved her tattered shirt to one side exposing her belly.

[BLACKOUT]“Well, that explains not knowing her parents name…”[/BLACKOUT] he said to Gunny, pointing to the bare patch of flesh where her navel would have been if she had one.​

Guardians Headquarters – Main Lounge

[BLACKOUT]“So, you’ve never had a home?”[/BLACKOUT]

The girl looked somewhat panicky now, her brow furrowed and she began to look distressed.

[BLACKOUT]“It’s OK. Look, you’ve been through a lot today, finish your Ovaltine and you can waaaatch…[/BLACKOUT] *flicking the TV on and waiting for the picture to come into view from black* [BLACKOUT]Spongebob Squarepants? Then when both are finished we’ll set you up in a spare bedroom, we have a few people who haven’t been here for a while and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind… I’ve got to talk with… er… Uncle Gunny for a minute in the kitchen.”[/BLACKOUT]

The pair huddled in the kitchen while the little girl sat in front of the television with a full mug in her lap.


“So she’s a test tube baby?”


[BLACKOUT]“Yeah, but more than that. It means S.T.R.I.K.E are tinkering with making their own metas. Something’s going on here, the pieces are starting to fall into place but I still can’t quite see the whole puzzle yet…”[/BLACKOUT]

“You don’t trust them?”

[BLACKOUT]“I don’t trust anyone…”[/BLACKOUT]

“Present company excluded of course…” Gunny added.

Isaac turned and looked at the ex-Marine with a look of solemn deadpan.

“Or not…”

[BLACKOUT]“Something went down when I was out there, and I thought it was you, but it wasn’t. I thought you’d heard where I was going and was adding support and firepower… until she…”[/BLACKOUT] he stopped as he saw the little girl in front of him.

[BLACKOUT]“Hey Megan, finished? Ready for bed?”[/BLACKOUT]

“I have answers. You still have questions?”

Isaac was caught a little off guard.

[BLACKOUT]“What did you say, sweetie?”[/BLACKOUT]

“I’m saying ‘I gave it some thought and I’ve got some answers for you.’ Now are we going to pull our head out of our arse and listen or would we rather play Hungry, Hungry Hippos? …Honey-bunch.”

The little girl’s voice was different now. Colder. Harsher.

[BLACKOUT]“Who the hell are you…?”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac squinted through his mask, as if trying to see through the little girl.


The small feminine face let out a sigh. “I don’t have time for this bulls***. I have my own questions. For our ears only. Later Gunny.”

And almost instantly, Isaac and the girl faded away. His molecular structure separating itself even faster the second time. It happened so fast he barely had the time to think about it.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Panic grips the patrons of Lost Haven's Silver Lake Mall as the man known only as The Hybrid crashes down through the ceiling, landing in the center of the main promenade near the food court.

As the startled crowd begins to run in every direction, The Hybrid just smiles.

"This is not a test, this IS an actual emergency." he gleefully says as he unleashes an optic blast that incinerates several young teenagers who are trying to flee.

A sudden commotion catches his eyes, and he looks on with amusement as several uniformed mall security guards approach him.

"Stop right there!" the lead guard calls as they catiously move toward him.

"Oh...you've got to be kidding me."

The Hybrid just stands there for a moment, realizing that the terrified mall cops were not going to back down, begins a slow chuckle that quickly evolves into all out hysterical laughter.

"This...this is going to be fun." He says as a strange glow begins to overtake his body.

"Buh bye."

No sooner do the words exscape his lips than a massive explosion rips through the mall, reducing it to a massive pile of smouldering rubble. The shockwave from the blast shakes buildings for miles in all directions, the fireball from the explosion visible from just about anywhere in the city.

Standing alone in the center of the smokey ruins of the mall, The Hybrid looks around himself at the destruction...burning merchandise and charred bones litter the area...and he smiles.

 

[Hound55]

Location: Unknown to all but one


When he awoke, Isaac found himself surrounded by nothingness. Not desert sand, or blue skies or what we would normally consider to be “the middle of nowhere”, but actual nothingness. The vast vacuum of space. …except for some reason there was no vacuum, he was not without air, his body unaffected by the cold harsh nothingness.

“Oh good. You’re not dead. I was hoping I’d figured that out.” His sole companion said.

“Now you had questions..?”

[BLACKOUT]“I’ve new ones now… ‘Who the hell are you?’ and ‘Where the hell are we?’ for starters…”[/BLACKOUT]

“I’m Megan…”

[BLACKOUT]“You’re not Megan… You’ve got her body, but not up here…”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac tapped near his temple with his index finger.

“Well, not exactly, I suppose. I mean, it’s not her brain behind the wheel.”

[BLACKOUT]“Whose is it?”[/BLACKOUT]

“You can’t tell..? I’ll give you a hint…”

“What’s black and [BLACKOUT]black and punches a*******s in the face?”[/BLACKOUT] she said with a dark grin, creepy in its familiarity, crossing her face as the metahuman changed her vocal chords to match his own.

[BLACKOUT]“Holy s***..!”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“Yep.”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“…and as for where we are. There’s no point saying that. We’re not astronomers… Suffice to say we’re somewhere safe from prying eyes and ears. But because we know what we’re like I’ll do this for your benefit anyway…”[/BLACKOUT]

And with only a second’s pause the empty space that previously was occupied with nothing but oxygen turned and twisted its molecular structure until, seemingly out of nowhere, a mask/voice modulator appeared on the face of the little girl.

[BLACKOUT]“So, I guess you’re not a teleporter then..?”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“Cut the crap. We both know full well that we’d already figured out that’s not what’s going on…”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“How is..?”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“It’s your brain. From just before you left to get me a drink. Megan had questions she couldn’t answer; she wanted to be able to answer them. For you. But she’s a kid. She doesn’t understand that much about what’s going on… How could she; a kid her age?”[/BLACKOUT]

Isaac realised what his diminutive double was saying at this point.

[BLACKOUT]“So what else could she do? She made herself into someone who was smart enough to figure out what was going on… using the brain of the smartest person she knew.”[/BLACKOUT]

“Oh God…” Isaac thought.

[BLACKOUT]“Me…”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“Well, obviously she probably would’ve been better served going with the brain of that scientist back at Tartarus… but I’m not going to turn this down since I’m here now… She wanted to be able to answer your questions and above all else she wanted someone to be able to tell her how to live. She’d been isolated from everyone from day one.”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“So, you brought me here so you could explain all of this to me without risking giving away our identity in front of Gunny..?”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“She really did grab the wrong brain, didn’t she..?”[/BLACKOUT] the itty-bitty Isaac replied, pinching the bridge of her nose.

[BLACKOUT]“…I told you I have my own questions…”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“I brought you here, to explain why we shouldn’t just lay waste to this planet and start from scratch…”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“Wait, you mean…”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“That’s right…”[/BLACKOUT] the child smirked as she saw Isaac come to grips with the predicament.

[BLACKOUT]“…the fate of the world rests in my ability to…”[/BLACKOUT] thinking back to his past. A crowded hall. The hot light and blinking eyes of cameras which clung to a temporary lapse of control.


[BLACKOUT]“… to talk to a child.”[/BLACKOUT] They finished the thought at the same time, a twisted leer across the little girl’s face.

 

[trustyside-kick]

Blasting Dr. Weathers with his atomic powers, within seconds the doctor is incinerated. Nothing but a memory now. Cody looks down at his hands as they still resonate with energy, turning the dial once more as he extinguishes more atomic power.

"My name's not Cody anymore either, Doc. Consider this my resignation from S.T.R.I.K.E. too. No one can help me, now. I'm just a walking bomb waiting to explode now. A walking hazard."

"Hazard. Yea. I think I like that name, Doc. Call me Hazard. Hahahaha."

Blasting a hole in the wall, Cody Washington now codenamed Hazard flies away from the S.T.R.I.K.E. facility.

North Pacific Ocean
Kahului, Hawaii
50 Miles off the Coast

I take Kensei's words to heart. I really do. His words weren't magic or anything. I mean, they didn't suddenly make me learn how to wield the sword. Though that is because that wasn't the problem. But it helped. Every time I doubt myself, I just need to remember that if I couldn't handle what is set before me, someone else would be doing this gig.

You'd think I would have been able to overcome that sooner, since it goes hand in hand with how I overcame what Nightmare and the Deadly Sin Sloth was trying to do with me. They tried to use fear to break me down and doubt my own abilities and Faith...with this whole fencing thing I was hurting my own self in a different way with the same results:

Through anger. My anger at myself.

While we were training, and he kept handling me like a two year old with such ease, I only got more and more frustrated. Was frustrated with myself for not learning what I needed to learn fast enough. Here was an even bigger responsibility tossed my way and I thought I was not up to the task. Gradually, thinking Kensei's words over and over in my head as the training continued, I started to improve. Positive results finally began to yield. Once I overcame that anger, it all got easier and I was starting to see clearly.

So right now, I'm flying past the islands of Hawaii, heading back to the U.S. from Japan. Where I'm headed exactly? Not really sure. Suppose I will just let the wind carry me.

Who knows, maybe I should visit the--OOF!

Suddenly I'm crashing down into the water, not realizing what just hit me. But it was hot.

Man...was it hot. And man did it hurt. It's also...familiar at the same time as odd as it sounds. What am I up against? I burst out of the water, flying back into the air with style as I meet with the cowardly enemy who took a cheapshot as I was enjoying the beautiful Hawaiin view.

"You're...not who I was expecting. And how exactly did you find me, uh...Mr.fire-head guy?"

"Lost your silver tongue, Angelo? The last time we met you picked more...unique and original nicknames."

"The last time? I'm sorry, bud, but we've never--"

"Agent, er...Former Agent Cody Washington of S.T.R.I.K.E. at your service."

How is this even possible?

"Formally codenamed Nitro under the Watchmen Project. Now going by...Hazard. Before my...aggressive resignation with the department I made use their satellites to pinpoint your location."

He looks like he's not even human anymore. What happened to him? Is he...entirely composed of that uncanny radioactive heat he used to harness through his hands? It's like it's simply flowing through the suit out through his hands and helmet now.

"So if you are not here under S.T.R.I.K.E.'s agenda...why? I mean, did my teasing of calling you 'Hothands' offend you that much?"

"You could've saved them."

"What? Saved who? What is this about exactly?"

He does something with his belt, I don't know...turns the center buckle like a dial or something, and then the radioactive heat on his head starts to ignite like if you were to adjust a bunsen burner. Suddenly his hands start to surge with raw heat energy, and I can already know what's coming.

"Save who, Cody? Save who?"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER ANYMORE!!"

He unleashes a wave of radioactive energy my way, and I cause the water below us to shoot up like a water spout, deflecting the attack as best I can. Some of it manages to get through anyway, so hot that it just burned through.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, MICHAEL ANGELO!! AND MAYBE, JUST MAYBE...WHAT IS LEFT OF THE MAN YOU NOW SEE BEFORE YOU CAN BE AT PEACE!"

 

[wiegeabo]

cough cough cough

I turn over and open my eyes.

Spoiler

"FREEZE!!!"

"...oh, hey guys."

I hear Hawkes' voice run up towards the group of Feds. "Whoa, whoa, fellas! Federal agents! Federal agents!" he shouts, whipping out his id.

I pull my wallet out too and flash my badge. "Yeah, good guys. Just like you."

"Stand down!" Broiles shouts, and the Fed reluctantly back off. The Director and a lifeguard are right behind him.

"I thought you said he could get in and out without anyone noticing!"

"...I was wrong," the Fatman says glumly.

"Damn right you were. Obviously I overestimated the ability of this agency." The Director looks like he's about to throw up. Or punch someone.

"Congratulations. You've got yourselves your very own **** storm."

Hawkes starts helping me up. "Geez...that's one tough lifeguard."

***

I walk into the lab, and The Doctor is all over me.

"Hey, relex, ok. The gland is alright."

"Forget about that. How are you?" she says, putting on a pair of gloves.

I sigh. "I just caused the death of three people and almost got blown up. Other than that, peachy keen."

"You were just doing your job."

"And we got no idea what caused that explosion. It could of had nothing to do with you."

I lay back on the chair and look at Hawkes. "I flicked the switch and the place went boom. I gotta hunch I had something to do with it."

"So you think the place was rigged to blow."

I shake my head. "Doesn't make any sense. Why would they want to kill themselves. It looks like they had the general tied to a water heater. Only thing I can think is that she must have ruptured the gas line trying to escape."

"Ahhh...see," The Doctor says as she picks some flakes of quicksilver off my shirt and carefully starts putting them into pitri dishes. "If you hadn't gone in there, an FBI agent would have, and he would be dead right now. This quicksilver definitely protected you from the flames."

"So I didn't kill three people, I saved one," I say sarcastically.

"Yes, exactly. You always have to look at the positive."

"Oh, right. From now on the glass if half full."

"That's right."

"Unfortunately it's filled with blood." That's when the Director walks in. He looks like crap. Far be it from me to avoid kicking a man when he's down.

"Oh, hey boss. We really showed the Feds, huh. What's on the docket for tomorrow. Taking out a convent? Blowing up a nursing home. There's a daycare right down the street..."

"We're not doing anything. We're both on suspension pending an investigation by a congressional oversight committee."

"Oh...well, if we're lucky, maybe they'll sack us both, huh?"

He grunts. "It might just be your lucky day..."

The next few days are a blur of closed congressional hearings and an investigation about how I could have screwed things up.

***

"So, Mr. Cole. You're supposedly an expert on infiltration."

"That's what they say."

"And just how did you infiltrate the house where the General was being kept prisoner?"

"Sorry, that's classified."

"Classified?"

"Yep, classified."

"We are a Congressional oversight committee with the highest clearance levels."

I shrug. "Yeah, I know. It's just not quite high enough."

This, obviously, does not make them happy. "And if we order you to tell us?"

I shrug again. "You're first name isn't Mister, and you're second name isn't President. So...you can't."

They mumble among themselves, and I can feel the tension in the room ramp up. I can tell they're about ready to lash out, and, in all honesty, I deserve it.

"Can you at least tell us where you got your training?" the congressman says with sarcasm and anger thick enough to cover an oil spill.

Time to feed the fire. "Oh, sure. Several years of being an expert and professional cat burglar. And a damn good one, if I might add. I remember this one time..."

***

"So, Director," the Congressman starts, "Can you tell us exactly what happened on the day in question?"

"We were called in by the FBI to help them assess the situation and provide them intel they couldn't acquire."

"And you're agency specializes in this type of operation?"

"Among other things, yes."

"So what happened?"

"We arrived on scene, were briefed on the situation by the agents on sight, and I orderd Agent Cole to infiltrate the house and report back on his findings."

"And then the house blew up."

"...essentially."

"And it was Agent Cole's fault."

"That investigation is still pending. Premilinary findings is that it was an accident."

The congressman looks through the papers in front of him, even though the Director is sure he's doing it just for show. "And this...Agent Cole? He's a specialist in infiltration?"

"Yes. That's why I brought him into the Agency. His skills are invaluable."

"I see...And just what was his method of infiltration?"

"That's classified."

"Excuse me?"

The Director speaks up. "His methods are classified."

The Congressman's face begins to turn a shade of red. "Classified? Classified?!" He throws the paper in his hand down and points at the Director. "That's the same bull your agent fed us. What kind of training is so secret that it's classified from a comittee with National Security clearance levels?!"

The Director remains unphased. "That's classified."

***

Yeah...the rest of the day didn't get any better...

 

[Mr. Majestic]

“Ms. Foster is there a reason to why you’re not paying attention to my lectures?” Mr. Jensen questioned his student as she seems to be distracted.

After hearing her name she quickly responds to her teacher.

“My apologizes Mr. Jensen I have a lot of my mind I didn’t mean for it to interrupt your class.”

“We all have problems just try to make it seem like your paying attention okay Jane?”

“Yes sir.”

As Mr. Jensen went back to teaching his class Jane did exactly what was asked of her. She had to much going on in her life at the moment to be worried about the trouble of high school life. Lately in her neighborhood crime has began to increase and a dear friend of hers had got hurt and she doesn’t know how to quite deal with it.

A couple have hours have pass and Jane’s school day had finally came to an end. While heading to her car she was approach by her friend Byron.

“Hey Jane, how are you holding up?” He asks as he begins to walk beside her.

“I’m doing a little better it’s still taking its toll on me.”

Byron was the only person that Jane really let into her life he knew everything about her because she told him everything. There are no secrets between them.

“Jane you can’t still think it was your fault. It wasn’t like you wasn’t around because you were on a date of something you were off helping others.”

“What good is it to help people if I can’t help the ones that means the most to me?”

“You have to stop blaming your self if you where there I’m pretty sure you would have did everything you could of to make sure this wouldn’t have happen. You have to realize no one is to blame but the ones who put Jessica in the hospital.”

“Maybe your right it’s just this is just hard for me.”

“I know it is that’s why I’m here to help you get threw it.”

Byron has always been a good friend to Jane. They have been together since they were kids. The way they are together you would think they were brother and sister.

“So did you talk to your father about what happened?”

“I did.”

“What did he say?”

“Exactly what we thought he would. He told me he is not allowed to interfere in the world of man in that manner. I went back and forth with him but with no prevail.”

“It got to suck knowing your dad could do something about it but he decides to do nothing.”

“Byron he is not my dad he is my father there is difference. My encounter with him made me realize that we can’t count on the Gods to help us.”

Both Byron and Jane end their conversation and enter Jane’s car to head home.

While on the road Jane’s phone began to ring. She reaches in he pants pocket pull out her phone and looks to see who’s calling but it only has unknown on the caller ID. She answers the phone anyways.

“Hello?”

“Jane it’s me.” The mysterious caller says.

“And who exactly is me?” She questions.

“It’s ME!” The person says with a darker tone.

“Why are you calling me?” She asks as she finally realize who it is on the other end.

“S.T.R.I.K.E has found out your location, they are on their way to you now.”

“How did they find out who I am?”

“From what I can tell your identity is safe. Most likely what they did was gathered a list of information on the areas you have been seen the most to find your base of operations.”

“Even if they did that it shouldn’t work I’m seen all over the world.”

“That’s what I did and it worked just fine for me. I believe they are probably back to get you to join them again.”

“Let them try the outcome will be the same as last time.”

“This is not the time to be a lone hero. We need to gather information and found out why they want you and what they plan on doing with you.”

“If answers are what you seek I shall go and ask the questions.”

“Don’t do any…”

Before he could get the last few words out Jane hung up the phone. She then pulled her car over to the side of the road. Once the car came to a stop she gets out, Byron not knowing what’s going on fallows her lead.

“Jane why are we standing out here?”

“There is something I have to do Byron. Take my car and drive to my house I’ll met you once I’m finished, okay.”

“Oh one of those moments huh? Okay do what you have to do try not to take so long I hate having to come up with lies to tell your parents.”

Jane did nothing but smile as Byron quickly ran to the drive side of the vehicle then took off.

“If S.T.R.I.K.E is looking for me I shall not disappoint them. COME TO THEE MJOLNIR!” Jane screams as he holds her hand towards the skies.

The clouds above parted and the mythical uru hammer enchanted by Jane’s grandfather fell from the heavens into her hand.

“ODIN!” she yells out as she strikes the hammer on the ground and brings it back above her head right as a lightning bolt strikes the hammer turning Jane Foster to the now Thora daughter of thunder.

Spartan and the rest of the Executioners stood outside of their company S.T.R.I.K.E vehicle. On the way to their location they been telling people around town where they could be found, this was Spartan’s idea. He knew from his last encounter with Thora she will without a doubt make an appearance to finish what her and Spartan began. While waiting Spartan broke away from the group and walks about 30feet ahead of them and just stands and waits.

Heat-wave looks as Spartan goes to stand in the middle of no where. He leans his back against the van wishing he could be back at the base instead of out in the hot sun.

“This is just to hard to believe. To think that there is really God’s walking among us. You guys sure that this Thor isn’t just another strong as hell meta-human?” Heat-wave asks.

Sentry then turns his attention to Heat-wave as he gets ready to reply to his question. “First off her name is Thora not Thor, he is her father and to answer your question S.T.R.I.K.E does think that could be a possibility but she clams to be something more than human and she has proven it so. There aren’t any meta’s who can stand up to Spartan. I don’t know of to many”

“What about Icon? That man has done some amazing things and I believe he could give Spartan a run for his money.”

“Icon is not a God, even though he may have incredible strength and other great powers he’s not a God.”

“How do you know that?”

“If he was I’m pretty sure he would have made it known and if he was he wouldn’t be calling himself Icon. God’s are proud of whom they are and they hide from no one.”

“Well this God must be scared because we been here and there hasn’t been anyone or anything in sight, not even a cloud in the sky. We should just…” Then as Heat-wave was about to finish his sentence a lightning bolt strike the ground right in front of Spartan.

Everyone flinch as the bright light hurts their eyes. After a couple of seconds once their vision began to clear up they all look over at Spartan and see a woman standing face to face to him. Her appearance alone intimidated them all, all but Spartan.

“You seek an audience with me mortal?” Thora question.

“Indeed I do.” Spartan replies.

“Then speak.”

“I’m here to ask you once again to join S.T.R.I.K.E.”

“And if I refuse thee again?”

“Then I’m required to bring you in by any means necessary.”

Thora couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. “Words fall out of your mouth as s**t does a**. I am the god of Thunder, lord of the savage lightning, the very skies must tremble when speaks The Mighty Thora! For I am lord of the winds...and the storm! Thunder and lightning are my hunting dogs...the rain is my whip...and when I must, I ride a great and terrible steed...the earthquake! Nothing mortal can stand before it and yet thee stands before the daughter of Odinson, defender of Asgard and master of Mjolnir and yet you predict victory?”

“Are we talking or are we fighting?” Spartan simply asks.

A smile comes across Thora’s lip. “Alright then, HOW BOUT THEE!!!” She screams as she makes the first move and strikes Spartan with Mjolnir.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Panic grips the patrons of Lost Haven's Silver Lake Mall as the man known only as The Hybrid crashes down through the ceiling, landing in the center of the main promenade near the food court.

As the startled crowd begins to run in every direction, The Hybrid just smiles.

"This is not a test, this IS an actual emergency." he gleefully says as he unleashes an optic blast that incinerates several young teenagers who are trying to flee.

A sudden commotion catches his eyes, and he looks on with amusement as several uniformed mall security guards approach him.

"Stop right there!" the lead guard calls as they catiously move toward him.

"Oh...you've got to be kidding me."

The Hybrid just stands there for a moment, realizing that the terrified mall cops were not going to back down, begins a slow chuckle that quickly evolves into all out hysterical laughter.

"This...this is going to be fun." He says as a strange glow begins to overtake his body.

"Buh bye."

No sooner do the words exscape his lips than a massive explosion rips through the mall, reducing it to a massive pile of smouldering rubble. The shockwave from the blast shakes buildings for miles in all directions, the fireball from the explosion visible from just about anywhere in the city.

Standing alone in the center of the smokey ruins of the mall, The Hybrid looks around himself at the destruction...burning merchandise and charred bones litter the area...and he smiles.

It doesn't take Icon long to find The Hybrid. All he has to do is head toward the large cloud of smoke.

As he passes over the area that had once been a large commercial district which had been home to the Silver Lake Mall, he is horrified by what he sees. Sheer destruction in all directions. A massive explosion had flattened everything within a block an a half.

As he heads toward the epicenter of the explosion, he can hear people calling out for help. He wants nothing more than to go to their aid, but he knows that if he stops to help them, the madman who did this will only cause more destruction. So with a knot in his gut, he pushes on.

Within moments he finds himself hovering over the remains of the Silver Lake Mall...and standing there alone among the rubble is the psychopath who caused all the destruction...and he's smiling.

"You're going to pay for all the lives you've taken today."

"Oh...is that right?" The Hybrid says as he motions for Icon to give him his best shot. And as Icon approaches the only thing the can focus on is the madmans shrill laughter.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Sitting at his desk deep inside the Lost Haven headquarters of S.T.R.I.K.E., Director Anderson monitors a number of metahuman activities not only across the city, but across the world.

He watches as the Blue Blur takes on the Game Genie in Chicago. In San Francisco, the man known as Eagle Scout takes on a gang of South American meta-terrorists known as La Familia.

In Slater City, the vigilante Shadow Walker takes on the massive reptile man Korda. While just south of Rome, The Gladiator battles a massive fire that threatens to engulf Vatican City.

However, his main concern is the drama that is unfolding right here in Lost Haven, as the hero known as Icon takes on a derranged madman bent on destruction...a madman of his own creation.

Things had been going well, the Hybrid had bested Icon in their initial conflict, and had escaped to reek havok all across the city, killing scores of civilians and police, as well as a number of his very own S.T.R.I.K.E. personel...and Anderson could not be more pleased with the result.

With Icon's inability to take down Hybrid, the faith that the people put in him will be shaken to the core. With that faith damaged, his plans will be much easier to implement.

As he watches all these events unfold, he is disturbed by the sound of his own intercom going of. Angrily, he presses the button to shut off the incessant buzzing and speaks into it.

"Yes, Ms Powers?" He says as pleasantly as he can, attempting to hide his displeasure at the interruption.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Director, but Dr. Campbell is here to see you."

"Very well, send him in." Anderson says as he casually switches off the monitors.

A moment later Dr. Peter Campbell, a tall lanky man with greying hair and a permanent indentation on the bridge of his nose from his obscenely outdated and large eyeglasses. Anderson can't help but be reminded of a mad scientist from a bad 1950's science fiction film.

"What can I do for you, Doctor?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you Director Anderson, but I believe you will want to hear what I have to say."

"Go on." Anderson says, motioning for the doctor to continue.

"There have been some disturbing occurances at location 2."

"I'm listening."

"I hate to inform you, but agent Cody Washington has escaped from quarintine. He...killed Dr. Weathers before he fled the facility."

"I see. Thank you Peter. I'll get somebody on this right away."

Dr. Campbell stands there for a moment as if waiting for Anderson to say something else, and when he doesn't, the doctor takes his que and leaves.

Once he is alone, Anderson turns the monitors back on, turning his attention again to the events unfolding across the world. And while the news of Agent Washington's escape and the murder of Dr. Weathers is somewhat disturbing, he does not let it bother him. Agent Washington was rapidly losing his grip on reality, and with a healthy hatred for meta humans Anderson wonders if he is to far gone to again be a great ally to S.T.R.I.K.E. And while the lose of Dr. Weathers is significant, the man's growing sense of ethics was beginning to become a problem...so his loss was more than acceptable.

Anderson reaches into his desk and produces a large cigar and lights it. He leans back in his chair and continues watching the multiple dramas unfold all across the globe, and can only smile. These freaks are building his case for him, and they don't even realize it.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

It doesn't take Icon long to find The Hybrid. All he has to do is head toward the large cloud of smoke.

As he passes over the area that had once been a large commercial district which had been home to the Silver Lake Mall, he is horrified by what he sees. Sheer destruction in all directions. A massive explosion had flattened everything within a block an a half.

As he heads toward the epicenter of the explosion, he can hear people calling out for help. He wants nothing more than to go to their aid, but he knows that if he stops to help them, the madman who did this will only cause more destruction. So with a knot in his gut, he pushes on.

Within moments he finds himself hovering over the remains of the Silver Lake Mall...and standing there alone among the rubble is the psychopath who caused all the destruction...and he's smiling.

"You're going to pay for all the lives you've taken today."

"Oh...is that right?" The Hybrid says as he motions for Icon to give him his best shot. And as Icon approaches the only thing the can focus on is the madmans shrill laughter.

Icon rockets towards The Hybrid, meeting him with a hard right cross that sends the lunatic crashing through a smouldering pillar that at one time had supported part of the mall's second floor.

The Hybrid rolls over and sits up, wiping blood from his mouth and he grins at Icon.

"You know, I kind of feel sorry for you...almost."

"What are you talking about?" Icon asks as he stands over the madman.

"You're so idealistic, it's actually kind of sad." He says shaking his head with a condescending expression etched across his face.

Icon reaches down and grabs him by the collar of his coat.

"You work so hard to protect the people of this world, and they love you for it. But when things break down, when the niceties melt away...what are you left with?" He says as Icon just looks at him, not saying anything.

"You're left with madness. You're left with chaos. You're left with me."

"You're wrong."

The Hybrid grabs Icon's wrist in an attempt to break his grasp. Icon counters with a left cross that staggers the villain.

"You just don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"You can't win. You see, theone belief that is essential to your very existence, the belief that people are inherently good is nothing more than a falacy. I assure you, people are evil. Society itself is nothing more than a facade, and when you peel away the veneer...you find that it is just hiding the fact that people are nothing more than greedy, selfish animals. Ironically, you're very existence is proof of that. The thing is, if what I say isn't true, there would be no Icon."

Icon says nothing, he just listens as the maniac speaks.

"The sad dact is this...You can kill me. You can lock me up and throw away the key. But rest assured, someone will step in to take my place. No matter what, there will always be someone else. So, what you're doing is nothing more than an excercise in futility. And I'm going to ask you something that you're eventually going to ask yourself anyway..."

"What's that?"

"Is it worth it?"

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon rockets towards The Hybrid, meeting him with a hard right cross that sends the lunatic crashing through a smouldering pillar that at one time had supported part of the mall's second floor.

The Hybrid rolls over and sits up, wiping blood from his mouth and he grins at Icon.

"You know, I kind of feel sorry for you...almost."

"What are you talking about?" Icon asks as he stands over the madman.

"You're so idealistic, it's actually kind of sad." He says shaking his head with a condescending expression etched across his face.

Icon reaches down and grabs him by the collar of his coat.

"You work so hard to protect the people of this world, and they love you for it. But when things break down, when the niceties melt away...what are you left with?" He says as Icon just looks at him, not saying anything.

"You're left with madness. You're left with chaos. You're left with me."

"You're wrong."

The Hybrid grabs Icon's wrist in an attempt to break his grasp. Icon counters with a left cross that staggers the villain.

"You just don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"You can't win. You see, theone belief that is essential to your very existence, the belief that people are inherently good is nothing more than a falacy. I assure you, people are evil. Society itself is nothing more than a facade, and when you peel away the veneer...you find that it is just hiding the fact that people are nothing more than greedy, selfish animals. Ironically, you're very existence is proof of that. The thing is, if what I say isn't true, there would be no Icon."

Icon says nothing, he just listens as the maniac speaks.

"The sad dact is this...You can kill me. You can lock me up and throw away the key. But rest assured, someone will step in to take my place. No matter what, there will always be someone else. So, what you're doing is nothing more than an excercise in futility. And I'm going to ask you something that you're eventually going to ask yourself anyway..."

"What's that?"

"Is it worth it?"

Icon lifts himself several inches off the ground and rockets himself forward, slamming his fist into the Hybrid's jaw with the force of a speeding mack truck, the blow sending the maniac flying through a crumbling support beam.

The Hybrid rolls through, coming up on his feet, but again finds Icon on top of him, pounding him with thunderous lefts and rights, which again knock him to the ground.

Hybrid fights back, ripping into Icon with a myriad of punches of his own, knocking Icon off balance. Hybrid grabs Icon, hitting him with an uppercut and then tosses him through the ruined outter wall of what had been a very popular boutique.

Before Icon can get to his feet, the madman is upon him. The Hybrid grins as his left hand suddenly begins to change, morphing into an elongated hand, much like you would expect to see on a velocoraptor, complete with razor sharp talons.

As The Hybrid tried to force the talons into Icon's throat, the hero struggles to keep the Hybrid from hitting his mark.

"Give it up, hero. You've already lost."

"I don't think so." Icon says as he gets a firm grip on the Hybrid's wrist and flips him over the top of him, sending the maniac crashing through one of the other partially intact outter walls.

Free from the Hybrid's attack, Icon gets to his feet and rushes toward his enemy. However, as he approaches the Hybrid, the murderer takes a deep breath and begins to blow, hitting Icon with a blast of sub arctic air. Icon's approach slows as ice begins to develop around him, until he is totally encased in ice, freezing him in place.

"Stay there." Hybrid says as he extends his hand as if he were a crossing guard motioning a passing motorist to stop.

"While you thaw out, I think I'm going to put an end...to all of this." The Hybrid taunts as he takes to the skies, heading in the direction of Lost Haven's Oak Point Nuclear Power Plant.

 

[Hound55]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif][FONT=Comic Sans MS, cursive]Space, Some place in the middle of…[/FONT]
[FONT=Comic Sans MS, cursive] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Isaac floated inside of a protective sphere with the Megan/Isaac amalgam. Staring off into nothing with half squinting eyes, he would flinch every now and then as debris would clatter off of the orb, break up and scatter.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Relax. It’s not glass. It’s diamond. ‘Bout three quarters of a foot thick. You’re safer in here than if you were in the space shuttle…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“So talk.”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif] My words come from someone who wouldn’t even be able to buy a movie ticket without an adult. [/FONT][BLACKOUT]“Justify your existence.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]And there it was again; that leering sneer of a grin, flashing across a prepubescent face. And to be honest, I don’t know if that makes it scarier but it’s damn creepy. Above all else it keeps one question rolling through my mind again and again. ‘Am I really this big an a***hole?’[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Well for starters, why don’t you…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I don’t even get time to finish the question, it was the first and most obvious one that I was certain to ask. She cuts me off by finishing my own thought.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“…work with everyone else? Because they’re weak and stupid, and when they’re faced with a new answer that isn’t factored in to the status quo of thought they prefer their ignorance. They’d rather squash it and revel in their false knowledge than have to face a new truth. You need examples? Galileo, Socrates, Jesus, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King… That pretty much covers the full spectrum; invention, thought, religion, politics, sociology… Someone comes up with a better way of looking at things and the controllers of the status quo lose their minds, and when they realise they can’t kill me off they’ll just focus on digging in their heels and countering reform. Really, you’re all still very primitive. Hell, you don’t even have the answer to the mind/body question yet…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“And you do..?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Isaac…”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif] my name sears through me from his/her… whatever the hell this thing is… lips. It’s my brain in there and it knows how uncomfortable it makes me feel to be called that when I’m in the black, even here in the middle of nowhere where witnesses are so improbable. [/FONT][BLACKOUT]“…you’re talking to someone who has your brain, yet still has the mind, soul, spirit, whatever you want to label it… of a little girl. This wouldn’t be possible without the answer to the mind/body problem.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I need to show more control and restraint. In a debate with the fate of the world at hand, I’m being far too reactive. Understandable, though. I’ve had no idea I’d have to do this, I’ve been taken way out of my element… quite possibly literal light years out of my element. I need time, more than anything. Time to think about the issue at hand, time to de-construct it and show how crazy this idea really is. I need to get him… her… whoever the hell Megan is talking. Stall.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Then tell me. As a human I’m supposedly a slow, ignorant, primitive beast. Back yourself up. Explain it to me.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The line is cast.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I see a look that I know I’ve given a hundred times before, but looks almost comical on the face of a girl in single digits. She ***** one eyebrow up like I’m a moron and her mouth takes the shape of a sneer of complete contempt.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re stalling for time. You’re using my own words to appeal to our sense of vanity, but you’re forgetting I know how we think. I’m not trapped with your spirit anymore. I can cast the magnifying glass down on myself with no fear of what I’ll find… because I’m not stuck being you anymore. I know you’re stalling, but it doesn’t matter. If I’m going to be stuck with you anyway, I might as well make sure you’re satisfied and hear ‘your side’ out. I’d hate to have to here you b**** and moan for the rest of time…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“So… the mind/body problem…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The fish is caught.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Shouldn’t be too hard to explain it to you, despite our lack of knowledge of the anatomy of the brain because we’re both equally ignorant… Well, not equally… I understand the function of the parts better than you do, which I suppose is the crux of the issue, but I’m as ignorant of their names as you are. We really should have paid more attention in biology…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Yeah, fair enough. When they went over labelling all the individual parts of the brain in year 10 biology, which they never taught us, I suppose I should have paid attention in case I ever developed metahuman powers. Which I had no reason to believe even existed back then…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Are you done? You asked the question, I’d be plenty happy to just get straight to demolitions… We really are an obnoxious little punk, dressed up in black aren’t we..? A sheep in wolves’ clothing…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Who are you calling little?”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif] I smirk. I’m underlining his point, but right now I don’t care. I’m as sick of his tendency of trying to get the last word in as he is of mine.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]That creepy grin crosses her face once more and I take up a stance, backing slightly away against the wall of the sphere. Or I did… while it was a sphere. The diamond changed shape, growing taller, extending to take on an elongated form. Simultaneously Megan (?) changed her own form, first growing taller; some 5 feet tall, then 10 feet, then three stories. Then she changed her appearance, taking on the form of a half human, half classical dragon styled beast. She picked me up in her hands or claws or whatever the hell they are now, pincering me between claws or finger and thumb.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Looking into her face it looks weird. Not quite right, for as ‘right’ as a dragon/human can look. But Isaac tucked that little piece of knowledge away. Here was a creature that could still destroy him on a whim… that is unless some of what he’d been hearing was true - That it was the girl, and that she still felt indebted to him… somewhere, well beneath that cold calculating brain that Isaac has an intimate knowledge of.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“OKAY! You made your damn point!”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The demon and the dome recede far more rapidly than they were created, back to their original size and shape.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“I would imagine I did…”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[/FONT]

 

[Hound55]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif][FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Continued...

[/FONT][BLACKOUT]“I would imagine I did…”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Another damn smirk.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I’m getting tired of being on the receiving end of those.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“As I was saying… We’d have been well served to have paid more attention in biology, or at least done our own additional study in that field…”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif] The diminutive metahuman pauses, ***** one eyebrow and shoots me a glare, almost daring me to say something again, before continuing the thought. [/FONT][BLACKOUT]“…but I suppose Cornwall didn’t completely rob us of an education with their classical curriculum, because Descartes was almost right.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Within the acrylic mask, my brow furrows with thought.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“You know Descartes; Cogito ergo sum – we think therefore we are…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“’I think’. Maybe we should have paid more attention in Latin too. It’s not ‘Cogitis’.”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif] I say, mocking her tendency to overuse ‘we’ while my brain is running things in her body.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Don’t blame me. It’s your flawed brain.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I don’t even know where to begin with that flawed logic, but it wouldn’t help matters anyway, so I let it slide. Wow, today really is a big day for personal growth.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Where were we… so yeah, Rene Descartes spent his life living by that old Archimedes axiom – ‘Give me a fulcrum and a lever long enough and I can move the world’ – don’t butt in and quote it direct, because I know that’s what you want to do… F*** we’re a smartarsed pain in the backside…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I smile, glad that I’m getting to him just as he is to me. But then why wouldn’t I be..?[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“...and used the sole immutable truth – the existence of the self. Using this he then went on a spree of rationally deducing all manner of things. Amongst these was one little fact that most have just not bothered to follow up because it’s pretty much impossible for any regular human to prove or disprove with any real conviction.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]My miniscule, metahuman mate pauses for effect.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Rene Descartes believed that he had isolated the part of the brain which acted as a “seat”; his words, not mine… for the mind.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Now there’s a lot wrong with that… For starters, he’s way of base with it being a seat. The mind, soul, spirit, consciousness… whatever the hell you want to call it… doesn’t “rest” in the brain. It’s not housed there, which was an odd conclusion for someone so devoted to rational thought to make. Second of all, he was a little off in the geography of the brain as well… But not far off.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Wait, what exactly are you saying..? Are you telling me that you can actually say decisively that the soul exists?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The slight superhuman sighs.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“If you want to call it a “soul”, then sure. I don’t know a better or worse term for it. It’s what ‘you’ are.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“But yeah. He’s wrong on two counts. One being where exactly the thing he’s talking about is, which he was close to anyway really… But the bigger thing was that it’s a “seat” or a resting place for the mind/soul/whatever. Now that’s a pretty stupid conclusion to come to for someone who’s trying to find the physical location of a non-physical entity.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“So, not a seat, or a dwelling… something else.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Yes. I’ll give you a hint: maybe if he were around a couple of centuries later he might have been able to relate it to something far more common…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“It’s… It’s a receiver?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“BING! Got it in one. Wow… Maybe there’s hope for us yet… Us being you of course, not the human race. The fact of the matter is that everyone’s mind or soul is out there, everywhere.”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif] She waved her arm across the vista of space, to emphasise her point.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“It’s kind of like a signal, so far as I can tell, a constant transmission beamed across infinite space that takes an exact receiver honed to your own frequency to pick up. I’m not sure if it lasts forever though. But I do know that every time I’ve recreated you, it’s been soon enough after your destruction that your knew mind was still able to find your, well… for lack of a better word, let’s just call it a spirit and be done with it.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“This is insane…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Is it? Really? What have you ever seen which contradicts what I’m telling you?”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif] We fire back and forward.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Alright, how about the Not-an-angel?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“What about him?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“How can you tell me that the soul is just a…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Look, settle down a minute. I haven’t just disproved the existence of God, I’ve just given you a better idea of what a soul is and its ties to us. That’s all. There’s nothing in the bible which says that your soul is directly tied to your body, only your body and that your body’s going to go with you to the great gig in the sky… or the big shindig in the cellar… In fact I think we both know that’s a bit much to ask.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“And this is exactly what I’m talking about. My grand point. You explain a little more about the world around you, a new idea, and everyone loses their mind. How do you think I know about all of this? I re-made you. You’re not even “you” anymore unless you view your soul in those terms. If you only think of you as your original flesh and bones then I laid waste to that an hour ago…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]S***.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“My main point is; humanity is too damn flawed to ever progress properly. A new idea, which affects the status quo will always be persecuted. We’re fundamentally flawed and we need a complete system reboot and to be rebuilt from scratch. We go out there every night and beat up thugs and lowlives. Why do you think we do that?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Because I should. Because it’s right.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“But why you..? Why, out of everyone on the planet do you decide it has to be you?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Because…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Why you?!?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Because…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I can’t bring myself to say it. It’s a move into checkmate and we both know it...[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[/FONT]

 

[Hound55]

[BLACKOUT]"We go out there every night and beat up thugs and lowlives. Why do you think we do that?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Because I should. Because it’s right.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“But why you..? Why, out of everyone on the planet do you decide it has to be you?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Because…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Why you?!?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Because…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I can’t bring myself to say it. It’s a move into checkmate and we both know it.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]
Continued...
[/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Say it!”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“F*** you!”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“SAY IT!”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I need a different angle. I’ve played myself straight up, because I couldn’t see the field. I had no idea where the goalposts were.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Exactly…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“What?!? ‘Exactly’?!? What the hell does that even mean?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Why me?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]He’s screwing me over with a logical fallacy. Trying to make me accept that because I take it upon myself to try and do what I can to make the world a better place, he’s spinning it to argue that it also means I’m well within my rights to dismantle it if I believe it’s the right thing to do. Fine. He wants to bring who I am into the argument, we’ll fight dirty.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Why am I talking to me? My brain?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“I told you, because we’re the smartest person she knows. She wanted to have this discussion with you to be fair.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I dwell on that word for a minute, I have my angle.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Fair..?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Yes, so that both sides have an equal intellect.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“An equal intellect isn’t the best way to come to the right conclusion though, is it? If a major, pivotal argument isn’t immediately obvious it doesn’t make it wrong.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“No, but I know all of your dirty tricks.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Got him…[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“My dirty tricks?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Yes. I know you completely. We both know just how dirty you can play… like with Icon.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]I feign shocked offense.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“You know exactly what you’re talking about.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]These misuses of I, we and you are starting to do my head in… But I let him go on.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“He wanted out, but you couldn’t let him!”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“He had a decision to make and he made it himself. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Don’t give me that crap! You stacked the deck! Just like you always do!”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]
I raise my eyebrows and make a long face, shrugging to further show my ignorance of what he’s talking about.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“You tracked him down. To his house.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Yes..?”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif] I respond nonchalantly. [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“And you completely changed the situation on him. He wanted to get away from it all, and you couldn’t let him!”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“I made him an offer… That’s all…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“You gave him an obligation and you knew it! You went over there, in the situation where he could just avoid everyone and never have to deal with them. He was out.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“He WAS out, he easily could have been found though… I offered to help him go deeper.”[/BLACKOUT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif][/FONT] [BLACKOUT]“No! Don’t you tell that story to ME! Not me! I know why you did that, you sneaky manipulative little f***! I am YOU!”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Still hard to get used to a small child referring to you as little… I smile and it just riles the smaller version of me up more.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“He was in a position where he didn’t have to go to anyone to be out. He’s that powerful if they found him he could have hid again. But you put him in a position where if he wanted to quit, he was going to have to go to you, look you in the eye, and tell you that he wanted out. That he wouldn’t lift a finger to help anyone ever again. And you knew that boyscout would never be able to do that! To look you in the eye and say 'No more.'”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“I may have had a hunch…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“DON’T BULLS*** ME!”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“So what you’re saying is that you had to choose my brain to debate with me, because it’s the only one capable of calculating all of the little tricks and manipulative games that I might play to get what I want..?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]My brain-buddy’s caught off balance, stunned.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Like suggesting notions that because I choose to do what I can to help people, to help society to be better, to hold people accountable for their wrongs… That I’m somehow justified to be able to make the decision to obliterate every single living thing on the planet, just to create beings that I might be happier with?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“The kind of brain that might argue to get what it wants, regardless of whether it’s actually right. Is that the kind of brain that you want making this decision, Megan..?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Omega starts to shake and quiver, she puts her head in her hands, and when her face comes back out it is tearful and different. The cold expressions that haunted it have gone and what remains is a face that seems all too vulnerable to the world. I put my arm around the small girl and she thrusts her head onto my shoulder and bawls. She’s scared. Scared of what she almost did and yet after all of this she still trusts me. Trusts me regardless of her intimate knowledge of just how dark my mind is. Regardless of how I may be I’m one of only two people who ever showed her kindness, one of two father figures, and she loves me with a daughter’s unconditional love.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Megan, I think it’s about time we go home.”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]And while I hug her I think just how close I came to pushing us over the precipice. And those questions I asked myself at our darkest moment echo in my mind:[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]How can I go out there and do what I do?[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Because I should. Because it’s right.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Why, out of everyone on the planet do I decide it has to be me?[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Because I can.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Because I can.[/FONT]

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon lifts himself several inches off the ground and rockets himself forward, slamming his fist into the Hybrid's jaw with the force of a speeding mack truck, the blow sending the maniac flying through a crumbling support beam.

The Hybrid rolls through, coming up on his feet, but again finds Icon on top of him, pounding him with thunderous lefts and rights, which again knock him to the ground.

Hybrid fights back, ripping into Icon with a myriad of punches of his own, knocking Icon off balance. Hybrid grabs Icon, hitting him with an uppercut and then tosses him through the ruined outter wall of what had been a very popular boutique.

Before Icon can get to his feet, the madman is upon him. The Hybrid grins as his left hand suddenly begins to change, morphing into an elongated hand, much like you would expect to see on a velocoraptor, complete with razor sharp talons.

As The Hybrid tried to force the talons into Icon's throat, the hero struggles to keep the Hybrid from hitting his mark.

"Give it up, hero. You've already lost."

"I don't think so." Icon says as he gets a firm grip on the Hybrid's wrist and flips him over the top of him, sending the maniac crashing through one of the other partially intact outter walls.

Free from the Hybrid's attack, Icon gets to his feet and rushes toward his enemy. However, as he approaches the Hybrid, the murderer takes a deep breath and begins to blow, hitting Icon with a blast of sub arctic air. Icon's approach slows as ice begins to develop around him, until he is totally encased in ice, freezing him in place.

"Stay there." Hybrid says as he extends his hand as if he were a crossing guard motioning a passing motorist to stop.

"While you thaw out, I think I'm going to put an end...to all of this." The Hybrid taunts as he takes to the skies, heading in the direction of Lost Haven's Oak Point Nuclear Power Plant.

As The Hybrid rockets away from the ruins of the mall, a small crack begins to form in the large chunk of ice that encases Icon. Then another crack forms, and another. And within moments, there is a loud explosion as shards of ice goes flying in all directions. After taking a few deep breaths, Icon takes off, flying at breakneck speed after The Hybrid.

It doesn't take Icon long to catch up to the madman at the Oak Point Nuclear Power Plant. When he arrives at the plant, he sees The Hybrid attacking the outter wall of the plant with his heat vision.

Wasting no time, Icon rockets toward the maniac, leveling him with a hard right hand.

"That's enough!" Icon cries as he reaches out with his left hand, and sends a blast of cold arctic air at the side of the building, instantly cooling the area that the Hybrid was attacking.

The Hybrid gets back to his feet, and flies toward Icon, but the hero meets him head on, tearing into the villain with hard lefts and rights, which reverberate off the walls of the power plant, and can be heard for blocks.

Icon keeps up the attack, continuing to hammer The Hybrid. The maniac tries to fight back, but his attacks are easily shrugged off as Icon continues his assault.

Icon rocks the Hybrid with hard punches, which are reinforced with kinetic energy blasts, followed up with an intense optic blast. Finally, Icon follows up with a hard right hand which drops the lunatic.

The Hybrid lay on the ground for a moment before he attempts to get back on his feet. However, he merely collapses into a heap. Moments later, a convoy of black armoured vehicles arrive on the scene, and a veritable army of S.T.R.I.K.E. agents storm the scene, surrounding the downed villain with their weapons drawn.

"Thanks for the assist, but we'll take it from here."

"I'm sure you do. But I think I'll stick around and make sure you can handle him." Icon says as he watches the agents lock the Hybrid into restraints and load him into one of the vehicles.

Icon remains hovering in the sky as the convoy of vehicles drives away from the power plant. And as he watches them, he can't help but to get a bad feeling about the entire situation.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you." he says under his breath, before taking to the skies.

 

[wiegeabo]

The next few days are a blur of closed congressional hearings and an investigation about how I could have screwed things up.

***

"So, Mr. Cole. You're supposedly an expert on infiltration."

"That's what they say."

"And just how did you infiltrate the house where the General was being kept prisoner?"

"Sorry, that's classified."

"Classified?"

"Yep, classified."

"We are a Congressional oversight committee with the highest clearance levels."

I shrug. "Yeah, I know. It's just not quite high enough."

This, obviously, does not make them happy. "And if we order you to tell us?"

I shrug again. "You're first name isn't Mister, and you're second name isn't President. So...you can't."

They mumble among themselves, and I can feel the tension in the room ramp up. I can tell they're about ready to lash out, and, in all honesty, I deserve it.

"Can you at least tell us where you got your training?" the congressman says with sarcasm and anger thick enough to cover an oil spill.

Time to feed the fire. "Oh, sure. Several years of being an expert and professional cat burglar. And a damn good one, if I might add. I remember this one time..."

***

"So, Director," the Congressman starts, "Can you tell us exactly what happened on the day in question?"

"We were called in by the FBI to help them assess the situation and provide them intel they couldn't acquire."

"And you're agency specializes in this type of operation?"

"Among other things, yes."

"So what happened?"

"We arrived on scene, were briefed on the situation by the agents on sight, and I orderd Agent Cole to infiltrate the house and report back on his findings."

"And then the house blew up."

"...essentially."

"And it was Agent Cole's fault."

"That investigation is still pending. Premilinary findings is that it was an accident."

The congressman looks through the papers in front of him, even though the Director is sure he's doing it just for show. "And this...Agent Cole? He's a specialist in infiltration?"

"Yes. That's why I brought him into the Agency. His skills are invaluable."

"I see...And just what was his method of infiltration?"

"That's classified."

"Excuse me?"

The Director speaks up. "His methods are classified."

The Congressman's face begins to turn a shade of red. "Classified? Classified?!" He throws the paper in his hand down and points at the Director. "That's the same bull your agent fed us. What kind of training is so secret that it's classified from a comittee with National Security clearance levels?!"

The Director remains unphased. "That's classified."

***

Yeah...the rest of the day didn't get any better...

"Mr. Hawkes. This committee finds it odd that Agent Cole was chosen for this assignment over an agent with a great deal more experience such as yourself."

"Well, sir. Agent Cole has a tremendous background in...covert entry, sir. The Director absolutely made the right call ins ending Agent Cole into the building. I would have done the same thing myself if I was running the operation."

***

"...and then the alarm bypass popped off and the place went nuts. But I was already passed the security barrier by the time that happened. Just needed to wait for the guards to run by, and I slipped right out. But it all amounts to the same things, when you break it down. B&E, alarms, lock picking..."

The committee members glance at each other. "This was your training?"

"Yep. Learned it in Soledad penitentiary, mostly. I did pick up a little in juvie too."

"So...you're a convict?"

"Ex-convict. Thank you very much."

"And who's idea was it to make you a Federal agent?"

"That would have been my boss. The Director."

***

"Let me try to understand," the Congressman says. "You found Mr. Cole in prison, arranged to have his sentence commuted, gave him a gun and a badge, and with almost no training, made him a Federal agent?"

"Yes, and I stand by that decision."

"Why? Does Mr. Cole have some special ability that this committee is unaware of?"

"Darren Cole is a fine agent. And has a talent for remaining undetected."

"So we've been told." The congressman looks at the papers in front of him, and at the other two members of the committee.

"You're record of public service has been exemplary, and we'll trust that your decision to send in Mr. Cole was sound. Mr. Cole, however, does not have such a record of service...this committee would prefer to discipline a known felon rather than sully the record of a man such as yourself."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. But I'm the one who ordered him inside. The responsibility lies with me."

"Then you give this committee no choice. We will recess until tomorrow." And the Congressman end the meeting with the bang of the gavel.

And The Director knows what else will be ending...

***

Agent Broiles sits in his darkened office, replaying the surveillance footage he had 'confiscated' from the investigation. Very curious footage indeed.

Spoiler

The door to Broiles' office opens, and he quickly shuts off the machine as his visitor closes the door behind him.

"Come on in," Broiles says as he turns on the lamp on his desk. He reaches into the bottom drawer on his desk. "You a drinking man?"

"I am."

"Glad to hear it." He pulls out a bottle of bourbon and a pair of glasses. He pours a healthy shot into each

"May you live in interesting times," his visitor says, clinking his glass against Broiles'.

"You know the Chinese meant that as a curse. Sort of like the times we live in now. Very interesting things happening. Getting quite a lot of attention." Broiles takes a sip.

"Yes...very interesting." His visitor looks at the glass, swirls it, then drains almost all of it in one gulp.

"You're a very clever young man, Luke." Broiles tips his glass and takes another sip. "That's why the directorate has taken interest in you."

"For which I'm very grateful."

"You seem very regarded by my...associates. But there's nothing of the ass kisser about you. What's you're secret."

"I really couldn't say."

"You mean you choose not to." Broiles just shrugs. "No, I get it. In our line of work...secrets are very powerful things."

"I don't know if I'd call it a secret..."

The visitor finishes his drink. "Indulge me."

"Well..." Broiles just swirls what's left of his drink in his hands. "Flattery and promises don't work anymore. They take up too much time and are undignified. I think George Orwell's method is much more effective."

"Orwell?"

"Everyone has something that frightens them. Some one thing, big or small, that terrify's them more than anything else. I just try to identify what that one little thing is, their Room 101...and then reassure them I can make it go away." Broiles snaps his fingers for emphasis.

His visitor lifts an eyebrow. "And my Room 101?"

"Fear of being ordinary."

"And yours?"

"All these...small time 'terrorists' who suddenly have the power to destroy our way of life. Normal and...otherwise..."

His visitor glances down at the briefcase he brought in. "I've got a whole case of them right here."

"Oh, I'm sure you do. Which is why I want to talk to you about The Agency, agent Ryder."

Ryder holds his glass out for a refill. "Please...call me Marcus..."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

He paces the full length of the massive picture window in his office, and as he does so he is afforded a spectacular view of the cityscape. As he reflects on recent events all across the world, one thing becomes certain....


He is winning.

Soon, he will have the tools he needs to not only face the threat posed by meta humans, he will have the tools he needs to ensure that he wins this war and sees to the extinction of the meta human population...

Power.

Real power.

Absolute power.

His momentary serenity is interrupted by the buzzing of the intercom on his desk.

"Yes Ms Powers?"

"The senator is here for your two o'clock, Director."

"Ah yes, show him in."

Soon, nothing will be able to stop him from ensuring the security of not only the United States, but that of the entire world.

 

[trustyside-kick]

"You could've saved them."

"What? Saved who? What is this about exactly?"

He does something with his belt, I don't know...turns the center buckle like a dial or something, and then the radioactive heat on his head starts to ignite like if you were to adjust a bunsen burner. Suddenly his hands start to surge with raw heat energy, and I can already know what's coming.

"Save who, Cody? Save who?"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER ANYMORE!!"

He unleashes a wave of radioactive energy my way, and I cause the water below us to shoot up like a water spout, deflecting the attack as best I can. Some of it manages to get through anyway, so hot that it just burned through.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, MICHAEL ANGELO!! AND MAYBE, JUST MAYBE...WHAT IS LEFT OF THE MAN YOU NOW SEE BEFORE YOU CAN BE AT PEACE!"

North Pacific Ocean
Kahului, Hawaii
50 Miles off the Coast

"AH!!"

Ok. I'm going to take a wild one here, and assume that the Sin I'm dealing with is pretty darn obvious.

Hate.

Lots and LOTS of hate. And man does his blasts hurt. Burn. Much more than the last time we encountered each other. Everything is different about him, just like how much he hates me right now.

What I can make out of it? For starters he is alone. Duh, he quit S.T.R.I.K.E. or whatever but the point is he is alone. Where's his two buddies? I'm not stupid. No matter what service you are in--good or evil--working with a squad is working with a squad. So what happened to his two buddies?

Are those the people he's talking about that I could've have saved?

...

Could I have saved them? I think I know what this is about.

"You talked to Dr. Weathers, didn't you?"

I ask as I send a wave of water, luckily knocking him down into the water. Instantly the water below starts to bubble as he unleashes an attack that I should've seen coming that knocks me soaring into the ground of the beach as I crash land.

"You're supposed to be a hero, and yet when someone calls on you to be heroic...you run."

"You don't know the entire story!!"

"SHUT UP!"

I'm getting really tired of dodging his attacks. But his powers are just so much more massive than before. I fly towards him, spiral around the beam he fires at me which was risky as heck but it made it unclear as to what side I was going to strike coming that close like that. I manage to lay down a right hook to the jaw followed by a knee to the stomach and I grab him by the shoulders.

"S.T.R.I.K.E. acts like taking a sample of my blood would have helped them find a cure for you and your team...but what they tell you is that they KNEW IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN! They KNOWINGLY gave you guys unstable powers. And here you are, doing EXACTLY what they want you to do by trying to take me out for not cooperating."

He manages to get a hand free and I can already feel the heat emanating as he is about to point blank blast me in the face but then I manage to grab hold of his free arm and twist it.

"You quit, right? Well...you're STILL a pawn for them!!"

 

[wiegeabo]

"Mr. Hawkes. This committee finds it odd that Agent Cole was chosen for this assignment over an agent with a great deal more experience such as yourself."

"Well, sir. Agent Cole has a tremendous background in...covert entry, sir. The Director absolutely made the right call ins ending Agent Cole into the building. I would have done the same thing myself if I was running the operation."

***

"...and then the alarm bypass popped off and the place went nuts. But I was already passed the security barrier by the time that happened. Just needed to wait for the guards to run by, and I slipped right out. But it all amounts to the same things, when you break it down. B&E, alarms, lock picking..."

The committee members glance at each other. "This was your training?"

"Yep. Learned it in Soledad penitentiary, mostly. I did pick up a little in juvie too."

"So...you're a convict?"

"Ex-convict. Thank you very much."

"And who's idea was it to make you a Federal agent?"

"That would have been my boss. The Director."

***

"Let me try to understand," the Congressman says. "You found Mr. Cole in prison, arranged to have his sentence commuted, gave him a gun and a badge, and with almost no training, made him a Federal agent?"

"Yes, and I stand by that decision."

"Why? Does Mr. Cole have some special ability that this committee is unaware of?"

"Darren Cole is a fine agent. And has a talent for remaining undetected."

"So we've been told." The congressman looks at the papers in front of him, and at the other two members of the committee.

"You're record of public service has been exemplary, and we'll trust that your decision to send in Mr. Cole was sound. Mr. Cole, however, does not have such a record of service...this committee would prefer to discipline a known felon rather than sully the record of a man such as yourself."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. But I'm the one who ordered him inside. The responsibility lies with me."

"Then you give this committee no choice. We will recess until tomorrow." And the Congressman end the meeting with the bang of the gavel.

And The Director knows what else will be ending...

***

Agent Broiles sits in his darkened office, replaying the surveillance footage he had 'confiscated' from the investigation. Very curious footage indeed.

Spoiler

The door to Broiles' office opens, and he quickly shuts off the machine as his visitor closes the door behind him.

"Come on in," Broiles says as he turns on the lamp on his desk. He reaches into the bottom drawer on his desk. "You a drinking man?"

"I am."

"Glad to hear it." He pulls out a bottle of bourbon and a pair of glasses. He pours a healthy shot into each

"May you live in interesting times," his visitor says, clinking his glass against Broiles'.

"You know the Chinese meant that as a curse. Sort of like the times we live in now. Very interesting things happening. Getting quite a lot of attention." Broiles takes a sip.

"Yes...very interesting." His visitor looks at the glass, swirls it, then drains almost all of it in one gulp.

"You're a very clever young man, Luke." Broiles tips his glass and takes another sip. "That's why the directorate has taken interest in you."

"For which I'm very grateful."

"You seem very regarded by my...associates. But there's nothing of the ass kisser about you. What's you're secret."

"I really couldn't say."

"You mean you choose not to." Broiles just shrugs. "No, I get it. In our line of work...secrets are very powerful things."

"I don't know if I'd call it a secret..."

The visitor finishes his drink. "Indulge me."

"Well..." Broiles just swirls what's left of his drink in his hands. "Flattery and promises don't work anymore. They take up too much time and are undignified. I think George Orwell's method is much more effective."

"Orwell?"

"Everyone has something that frightens them. Some one thing, big or small, that terrify's them more than anything else. I just try to identify what that one little thing is, their Room 101...and then reassure them I can make it go away." Broiles snaps his fingers for emphasis.

His visitor lifts an eyebrow. "And my Room 101?"

"Fear of being ordinary."

"And yours?"

"All these...small time 'terrorists' who suddenly have the power to destroy our way of life. Normal and...otherwise..."

His visitor glances down at the briefcase he brought in. "I've got a whole case of them right here."

"Oh, I'm sure you do. Which is why I want to talk to you about The Agency, agent Ryder."

Ryder holds his glass out for a refill. "Please...call me Marcus..."

"It is the finding of the panel that the man in charge of The Agency is at fault in the unfortunate death of General Evers. It is our recommendation that you be removed from your post, effective immediately. A successor to be determined at a later date. Our findings will be turned over to the Justice Department for determination if further steps are necessary. This meeting is adjourned."

The Director doesn't even flinch when the gavel strikes home.

Outside the meeting room, the chairman of the committee notices a familiar face and starts walking with him.

"Well?"

"We've removed him from his position. It's a shame, someone with that level of service."

"I understand."

"The JD may press still press charges..."

"I'm not here for that. I think I have a name for consideration to be his successor."

"I'm all ears, Marcus..."

***

The Director picks the lamp off his desk and walks over to the table in his office, placing it inside the box sitting on it.

"I just want you to know that I'm very unhappy about this, sir."

"Thank you, Bobby."

"I mean...what about all that stuff you promised me? Validated parking, overtime, longer vacations. I mean, you promised me all that stuff."

The Director smirks. "I'm afraid you'll have to take that up with my replacement."

"Any idea who that'll be?" I say as I stand by the windows

"They didn't consult with me about that."

Bobby hands the Director the last item on his desk. "Do you think you could, you know...leave a memo about all those things we talked about-"

"Bobby...could you give Cole and I a minute?" I roll my eyes and turn around, the window blinds suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the world.

Hawkes glances at me. "Um..well...uh...sure. Yeah. Memo," Hawkes whispers as he closes the door behind him.

The Director chuckles once, then drops the small case into the box. "I just wanted you to know kid. You're probably the best thing to ever happen to this organization. You would have made a great agent."

My jaw sets in a bit of defiance. Just what I wanted to hear.

"I know you're pissed about what happened on the beach, but-"

"You don't get it , do you?"

The Director steels himself. "Educate me."

"It's not just what happen at the beach. It's everything you do. The way...the way you just use people."

"Hey...guess what? That's the job description."

I sigh as I put my hands on the back of a chair and lean over it, looking at the now very interesting floor.

"Anyway, I'm glad we got the chance to work together."

"Well, it's not like I really had the choice. Is it now?"

And suddenly, for the first time, I see the Director soften. "Doesn't matter. You have a real gift. Even without the invisibility. I just hope you learn to use it."

"Well, take care of yourself kid." And with that, Director walks out of what used to be his office.

...And I instantly feel lower than dirt.