Infinite Justice: Beyond (Marvel,DC,DBZ X/Over, IC, Open)

[Charmera]

Daniel Carter/Killswitch-23-Baravia, South America

"Well it seems negotiations have failed." With that I pulled the trigger launching a small barrage at Gravity, to pull the mutants who are with him out of hiding.

---

Drawing my pistol I thought that I carry several of those knives as I placed two bullets in his chest and one in the head, as my first battle ended, I turned to see how the alien was handling Gravity.

As the mercenary spoke, Callum quickly pulled down his arm, signalling to his allies to attack, and immediately recoiled as a flurry of explosive shells detonated in front of him. His bubble of strong outward gravity stopped the shells dead in their tracks, but force of the change, almost like a solid wall caused the explosives to detonate. Callum's view was immediately obstructed by several explosions, and he yelped in pain as several fragments embedded themselves into his chest and arms. His suit did take the edge off of the heat, at least, so there were no bad burn. Unsure whether to pull out the shards or keep them there, he decided it was probably for the best to leave them be. Callum zipped forwards and charged through the smoke. Seems that the Merc was occupied, so instead Callum turned to the girl, splaying out his hands and increasing the gravity around her fifteen fold. It wasn't enough to break bones or cause lasting damage, but it rendered most opponents immobile.

"Stand down!" Callum shouted as he pinned her under the bubble. "There's no point in fighting! It's two against sixteen!"

Aru grunted from the gravity as it nearly sent her planting her face into the floor, however she managed to stand herself up, just about. She had to get away from the gravity well, and so she suddenly teleported, ending up behind her foe. She pulled out two pulse pistols and fired, a pulse of electromagnetic energy coming out from the guns. She made sure to keep it on a low setting so she wouldn't kill him. "I've had worse odd's before human." She remarked. While she fired repeatedly she made sure to teleport. "

[The Republic of Atria]

Wyatt was too busy blasting the tar out of Xander to see the massive blast coming right for him. Which was enough to knock him off his feet and through the Boom Tube. It took a few seconds for Xander to grow back the limbs and parts of him that were blasted off by Wyatt. "Son of a bitch, that never gets less painful..." He muttered. "Otis! Throw the bastard in here!" And just like that, Otis blasted his opponent into the Negative zone. Xander's curiosity got the better of him and he flew in after the two men to see how it worked. What he saw was both of them on the ground, unable to fly. The same fate he also met when his powers gave out and he fell several feet onto the ground.

"The fuck is this?" Wyatt demanded. "Why the fuck aren't you a duck? I'm trying to turn the both of you fuck heads into small animals, but you're not turning into small animals. The fuck?!"

"I figured it out. Okay Naja did, but that's irrelevant at the moment. This is the Negative Zone. It's made purely of Anti-Matter and Energy. The Motherbox that brought us here adjusted us. See, we're all the same species. An inherent weakness is that we can't manipulate Anti-matter." Xanader then cracked Wyatt across the jaw, knocking out several of his teeth. "I noticed something. You both can't fight for shit. You rely on your powers. So when they're gone... You're not much of a threat." Wyatt threw a punch that was sloppy even by normal standards, Xander promptly caught it and his Wyatt with a solid uppercut that knocked him right out. "Alright Blue. You're next." He turned his attention to his doppelganger and saw that he was already several hundred feet away, tripped and fell on his face before scrambling back to his feet and starting to run again.

Otis had come in just to watch and make sure nothing went wrong. He could have just finished off Alex right then and there., but couldn't bring himself to do it. It was one thing when he could regenerate through anything he could throw, but now it was just sad. "Alright. Problem solved. Let's go." He said offering Xander his hand and pulling him up. "Good guys win again. The score is... Um... I lost count. So I'm just gonna say a bazillion and hope I'm right. You're bleeding..." Otis noticed Xander's hand was dripping with some blood.

"I did hit the guy pretty hard. Not as invulnerable as I'd like to be at the moment." He muttered as Otis pulled him through the Boom Tube and put him down. "You're taller than I remember."

"I used to be Five foot ten. Now I'm like Six foot seven. It's not my fault I swear. Vinatos said that my species is really tall and gangly." He said and put Xander down. "Great job team!"

[Finland SSR]

Wyatt was too busy blasting the tar out of Xander to see the massive blast coming right for him. Which was enough to knock him off his feet and through the Boom Tube. It took a few seconds for Xander to grow back the limbs and parts of him that were blasted off by Wyatt. "Son of a bitch, that never gets less painful..." He muttered. "Otis! Throw the bastard in here!" And just like that, Otis blasted his opponent into the Negative zone. Xander's curiosity got the better of him and he flew in after the two men to see how it worked. What he saw was both of them on the ground, unable to fly. The same fate he also met when his powers gave out and he fell several feet onto the ground.

"The fuck is this?" Wyatt demanded. "Why the fuck aren't you a duck? I'm trying to turn the both of you fuck heads into small animals, but you're not turning into small animals. The fuck?!"

"I figured it out. Okay Naja did, but that's irrelevant at the moment. This is the Negative Zone. It's made purely of Anti-Matter and Energy. The Motherbox that brought us here adjusted us. See, we're all the same species. An inherent weakness is that we can't manipulate Anti-matter." Xanader then cracked Wyatt across the jaw, knocking out several of his teeth. "I noticed something. You both can't fight for shit. You rely on your powers. So when they're gone... You're not much of a threat." Wyatt threw a punch that was sloppy even by normal standards, Xander promptly caught it and his Wyatt with a solid uppercut that knocked him right out. "Alright Blue. You're next." He turned his attention to his doppelganger and saw that he was already several hundred feet away, tripped and fell on his face before scrambling back to his feet and starting to run again.

Otis had come in just to watch and make sure nothing went wrong. He could have just finished off Alex right then and there., but couldn't bring himself to do it. It was one thing when he could regenerate through anything he could throw, but now it was just sad. "Alright. Problem solved. Let's go." He said offering Xander his hand and pulling him up. "Good guys win again. The score is... Um... I lost count. So I'm just gonna say a bazillion and hope I'm right. You're bleeding..." Otis noticed Xander's hand was dripping with some blood.

"I did hit the guy pretty hard. Not as invulnerable as I'd like to be at the moment." He muttered as Otis pulled him through the Boom Tube and put him down. "You're taller than I remember."

"I used to be Five foot ten. Now I'm like Six foot seven. It's not my fault I swear. Vinatos said that my species is really tall and gangly." He said and put Xander down. "Great job team!"

So we won? It looks so. I mean, the guys are cheering, with happy faces all over. I guess whatever was there, on the other side, where I pushed the blue dude in, was enough to take care of them.

I lifted my right thumb as a sign of "I'm okay". Not really expecting to be noticed, to be honest. Afterwards, Influx turned itself off automatically, moving into recovery mode, and then I sat down.

"So, you guys have any souvenir shops on this island of yours?"

[The Republic of Atria]

"Thanks for your help Frank." Xander said as his powers returned. "They shouldn't be an issue now. With any luck they'll get themselves killed and they'll be out of our hair forever." Another day, another invasion stopped. Naja could tell that it was really starting to wear down on him. "I'm going to go start the repairs. Umm... I don't think we have a souvenir shop, Frank. Sorry. We really don't have much in the way of tourism. If people come here, it's more often than not to stay. Excuse me, but I've got some stuff to take care of." He said and flew off to start fixing the damage .

"I think he's actually right on this one, Frank. Closest thing we have is custom made clothing. Like what you got." Naja explained. "It's work in progress."

"Alright. That's enough crazy for one week. I need some Otis time. I'm going to Attilan, if you need me. Unless you need me to fight. Then I'm not going to." He had done enough violence for a month, even if it was against the only man in the universe he held genuine contempt for. There was a stopping point and he reached it. Besides, there were shows he needed to catch up on. And catch up he did. At least for the better part of the rest of the day which ended with a nap. He didn't need to sleep, but it was something more to relax than anything else. At least until he awoke to a knock at his door. "It's open..." He muttered as he crawled out of bed. The door opened and in stepped Queen Medusa. Which caused Otis to humorously scramble to his feet.

"Calm down." She said as Otis finally stood up. "I came to ask you for help."

"...I suppose. I won't have to fight anything, will I?" He was okay with doing pretty much anything other than anything that involved violence. "Cause I'm kind of burned out on fighting. Yesterday was a pretty crazy day."

"No. I need you to be a diplomat. Ordinarily, I'd ask someone else to do this, but I'm not running the risk of them getting captured or worse. You don't run the risk of that, and you are the most... Charismatic. The country in question is North Korea. We have reason to believe that they're harboring Inhumans. You're going to be playing the emissary while I send a covert team to find out what's going on."

That sounded very iffy to him. "So, all I have to do is play nice with the Supreme Leader of the nation-state equivalent to the short bus? I guess I can do that, sure." It didn't sound like something that would be difficult. He could play nice. "It'll be just like that one movie... The Interview! Except for... The part about killing Kim-jong Un in a helicopter tank battle..." The look Medusa gave him said all that he needed to know. "Am I the only one who still watches movies? Seriously? You all need to lighten up."

[Finland SSR]

So no souvenir shops? That's sad, I would've bought some little thing to remind me of this place. Maybe a little sticker for a fridge... Hold on, I don't have a fridge. Darn it!

"Well, everything is settled, right? So, now what..."

Wait.

Hold the phone.

Northwestern sector. That is ours, yes. Coordinates COOQF2. And constantly changing. It's a human-sized object, metallic, coming here at faster-than-light speeds.

"I'm sorry, I think I have something important to check out." I spoke, sheathed the Heat Blade, leaped up and waved my hand. "It was nice to meet you, Xander and Naja, Earthling representatives. Have a nice... day."

I need not say any more. Just flew off.

[Krytonus]

As the mercenary spoke, Callum quickly pulled down his arm, signalling to his allies to attack, and immediately recoiled as a flurry of explosive shells detonated in front of him. His bubble of strong outward gravity stopped the shells dead in their tracks, but force of the change, almost like a solid wall caused the explosives to detonate. Callum's view was immediately obstructed by several explosions, and he yelped in pain as several fragments embedded themselves into his chest and arms. His suit did take the edge off of the heat, at least, so there were no bad burn. Unsure whether to pull out the shards or keep them there, he decided it was probably for the best to leave them be. Callum zipped forwards and charged through the smoke. Seems that the Merc was occupied, so instead Callum turned to the girl, splaying out his hands and increasing the gravity around her fifteen fold. It wasn't enough to break bones or cause lasting damage, but it rendered most opponents immobile.

"Stand down!" Callum shouted as he pinned her under the bubble. "There's no point in fighting! It's two against sixteen!"

Aru grunted from the gravity as it nearly sent her planting her face into the floor, however she managed to stand herself up, just about. She had to get away from the gravity well, and so she suddenly teleported, ending up behind her foe. She pulled out two pulse pistols and fired, a pulse of electromagnetic energy coming out from the guns. She made sure to keep it on a low setting so she wouldn't kill him. "I've had worse odd's before human." She remarked. While she fired repeatedly she made sure to teleport. "

Oh course she can fucking teleport.

Callum cried out as he was suddenly blasted from all sides by burning pulse fire. He quickly discovered that his wetsuit didn't really help against scorching alien weaponry, as his skin burned with each hit. He hastily launched waves of gravity in all directions, hoping to hit the girl, but he already knew they would be far off. Changing tactics, he started ripping up parts of the floor, surrounding himself on all sides with chunks of stone. It managed to block most of the pulse shots, but some still hit him. Luckily, the stone wasn't a barrier. With a grunt, Callum expelled a powerful wave of gravity, firing chunks of heavy rock in every direction, making it impossible to predict, and therefore block, even for a teleporter. He densified himself, to help prevent damage from kinetic damage, and turned around, trying to find out where she was. He'd hit her at least.

She could beat her. Probably.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

The boy who was alien to death stood on the outskirts of New Attilan, looking back at the city with his hollow yet bright eyes. So far, every visit that he had made had been well received, every single person who had received the knock of the young visitor had been satisfied upon being given what was very likely one of the best Christmas gifts in their entire fleeting lives. The chance to be reunited with lost loved ones was rare indeed, a chance that most would never have, and so the few that did were eternally grateful. There were many tears, of course, many breakdowns, a few remorseful confessions, some profuse apologies, and lots of awkward conversations, but in the end, it all went well, and they all thanked the white-haired boy for what he had done, yet, when they turned to express their gratitude, he was always gone, always sneaking away during the shock of reunion to find the next target. His self-imposed duty prevented him from staying too long, but even so, he knew how they felt, and that made him happy.

Or at least, as happy as one such as him could be. The truth was that this happiness was only superficial, barely enough to palliate the ever-growing boredom that gnawed at his mind, not to mention the omnipresent sense of resignation and hopelessness that he bore as a result of being aware of his own immutable fate. But even then, the joy that many experienced during his visits that Christmas was enough for the young Necromancer to keep a smile on his face as he always did.

It was with that same smile that the boy finally turned his back on New Attilan and began walking towards his next destination, while thinking back to the humans (and Inhumans) he had seen that day. Queen Medusa had been the first, of course, and though she had been ready to beat him into a pulp at first, nobody would deny that she looked quite happy by the time he left. The royal guards held no grudge against him either, and the Omega Inhuman had been full of joy, despite knowing that his time with his mother would be limited. The kind goat lady was quite content with her new skeleton friends, as well, and she made him a mean pie to boot. This, he decided, was enough. The people of Attilan rejoiced. He had accomplished his self-imposed mission on that place and now it was time to move on. His journey across the globe was only starting, after all, and the holiday season wouldn't last forever. With that in mind, Necromancer decided that it was better to hurry things along instead of walking everywhere, and so, he called upon one of the many dead souls of the universe. Within an instant, an enormous dragon was present next to him, glowing faintly with the azure hue of materialized souls. This was not her true size, of course, as a dragon such as her would leave Earth as a tiny speck in comparison if whole, but fortunately, both she and the Necromancer himself could limit her size.

The ensuing scene would've likely come across as comical to anyone watching, as the white-haired boy struggled to get a hold of the creature's scales in order to climb up onto her back, only to fail several times. Fortunately, there was no one there, and eventually, the boy was lifted into the air by an invisible force that gently placed him on the dragon's back.

"You could have asked since the beginning, child. If time is what you wish to save, then it would have helped as much as my presence itself." Came a voice from out of nowhere, one that was present solely in his mind. It was an ancient and powerful voice, stern in its tone, though it was quite easily identifiable as female, and if one paid attention it could even come across as... motherly, perhaps?

The amortal at first giggled instead of responding to her. "Sorry, you know I'm not all that smart." He spoke as he got into a more or less comfortable position amid the enormous glowing scales of his companion. "Anyways, two tickets, please!" He said afterwards, pointing straight ahead. The dragon merely shook her serpentine head and then took off, dutifully flying towards the young boy's next destination.

---

The streets of Tokyo were overflowing with people that day, as many were quite eager to get presents for their loved ones and significant others, or at least buy some doodads to decorate their house with. Notably, it was the westerners living in the city who searched the hardest for gifts, decorations and foods such as turkey or ham, in order to celebrate the day in a way that was more in line with their own traditions, rather than the peculiar Japanese Christmas. Regardless, it seemed that everyone was excited for the day, save for perhaps some among the few who still had work to do.

"I have to admit I'm a little disappointed. I really enjoy your mom's cooking, you know." Spoke a young woman with long, curly blonde hair and deep blue eyes, clad in a simple black t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She was carrying a few plastic bags with an assortment of things on them, such as presents and lights, much like many other people around, though for the most part, the bags were stuffed with junk food. Next to her walked her interlocutor, who was about seven years younger, with short brown hair and green eyes, his hands firmly shoved into his pockets.

"I told you already Garnet, she doesn't cook anything. She has the robot hands do everything for her." Akihiko pointed out as they made their way through the crowds and headed back to the antique store that doubled as his and his mother's house, where three guests had been staying as of late.

Garnet simply shrugged at the young man's comment. "Seeing how she's bound to a wheelchair I can't really blame her. Besides, my point is that I would much prefer some home-cooking, but I guess I'd better stop complaining when all of this is basically free for me." The blonde woman stated, stopping for a moment to wait for the streetlight to change, with Akihiko halting next to her.

"Well, sorry. It's just how we tend to do it. Don't you like KFC?" He asked her with mild confusion on his face. Everyone he knew liked KFC, after all, unless they were vegan or something. Before receiving an answer, he noticed her walking away and, quickly realizing the reason, he took a few quick steps to catch up with her, not wanting to be left behind and have to wait for the streetlight again. "Well?"

"I like it well enough, but it's not my favorite." The blonde woman shrugged again, before noticing Akihiko staring at her and raising an eyebrow.

"You want any help with those?" He asked, evidently referring to the grocery bags. Garnet looked down at them and then shook her head.

"Nah. I can do it. Or are you saying I shouldn't carry these because I'm a girl?" She grinned slightly at the question, before waiting for her answer. Much like she expected, Akihiko looked slightly distraught at the sudden inquiry, but he quickly composed himself and shook his head.

"Nope. But if you don't need my help, why the hell did you badger me into coming with you?" He demanded, not quite forcefully, though one could easily tell he was growing annoyed. Garnet merely chuckled at him, handing him a bag as if to make him feel marginally more useful. A bit begrudgingly, Akihiko took it. He didn't really want to, now, but he figured it would look bad if he refused.

"I may have volunteered to do the shopping but I needed someone to show me around." She stated, and much to his chagrin, the young man couldn't quite argue with that. She was right, even if one didn't take into account the recent incidents she had gone through, she still hadn't been in the city for too long, so it was more than likely that she would get lost on her own, at least for a while. Still, he couldn't help but frown.

"Why didn't you ask someone else for help instead of going through the trouble of convincing me, though? Masami would've happily helped you." Akihiko complained. Though he had grown to see the three girls that now lived in his mother's house as a sort of bizarre extension of his family, he knew that they were far closer with each other, so he didn't see the reason she would come to him instead. Rather than answer, however, Garnet countered with another question, never appearing to give the conversation too much thought.

"Why do you always bring her up?" The blonde woman questioned him, taking him by surprise.

"Well-" He began, but before he could continue, both he and Garnet looked forward. In front of them was a young boy with white hair tucked under a black hood that was part of a cloak that covered his whole body. He was looking straight at them with a smile on his face, his bright blue eyes fixed on them, though Akihiko could tell that he was looking at Garnet in particular. "Can we help you?" The half-oni asked the white-haired boy as they came to a stop next to him, but the boy simply nodded at him and then turned back to Garnet before speaking.

"Garnet Greyson?" The child asked politely. Garnet blinked. She had never seen this kid before, so why did he know her? It was strange. Nevertheless, she did not want to be hostile towards him, knowing how impressionable children could be, so she simply put on a smile.

"Yes, that would be me. What do you need?" She asked the boy, who simply shook his head.

"Oh, nothing in particular." Necromancer stated, grinning. Before the pair before him could say anything or react, he continued. "Merry Christmas." He stated. Equally confused, Garnet and Aki glanced at each other before looking at the boy, who was walking away already. The blonde was about to question him, when she heard a voice calling out to her from behind, a voice that was very familiar to her.

"Garnet?" The voice spoke, and the young woman very nearly dropped everything she was carrying as she turned around, her face the very personification of shock. Quietly, Akihiko took the bags from Garnet, finding no resistance from her, as he carefully eyed the older woman who had just appeared in front of them. He was quite certain he had never seen her before, yet there was something about her that seemed familiar.

"Mom?" Garnet spoke with disbelief, her voice nearly breaking as the other woman approached.

"Look at you, dear. You've grown more beautiful than I ever imagined!" Garnet's mother said with joy as she ran a hand through her daughter's hair, taking a good look at her now that she had the chance to do so once more. Evidently, the young woman was euphoric at whatever twist of fate had given her the opportunity to be with her mother once more, and pulled the older woman into a tight hug, even lifting her off the ground.

"Oh my, you've become a lot stronger too. What did you eat when I was gone, girl?" The woman asked in between chuckles.

Not quite sure what to make of the situation, that situation being the dead seemingly coming back to life and one of them visiting his friend, Akihiko decided that it was probably best for him to leave those two to their heartfelt reunion and turned around. "I'm leaving." He called out to Garnet before stepping away with the bags in tow. He figured it didn't particularly matter if he left now, as they were close enough to the house that she could find her own way back with a few blunders at most. However, this was not the only reason he decided to leave, and as he walked away, he looked all around in an attempt to spot the white-haired boy, knowing that he likely had something to do with all of this. Alas, his efforts were in vain, and soon he decided that instead of wasting more time, it was better for him to return already.

When he opened the door to his home, he was greeted by a fishbone to the face.

"What the-?!" He exclaimed, cut off halfway through by the annoyed voice of a nekomata who was lying on the couch.

"You were supposed to be here half an hour ago." The girl chided him. "Where's Garnet?" She asked after a moment, not seeing her around.

"Well..."

---

Travenios' first Christmas was a time to remember. The floating city-state had progressed much since its creation by a good man, and now it was a prosperous beacon of civilization, where men and women from radically different backgrounds and origins could live together in peace. The Hadrians who had sought refuge in Earth instead of traveling to colonize Adai like their brethren were no exception to this, and though fitting in was difficult at first, their natural adaptability, coupled with the assistance they received from both the Black Dragon and the Artificer Absolute made things infinitely easier for the beastlike people of Hadrimmelis. Of course, the fact that they had adapted did not mean that they abandoned their traditions, far from it. In fact, it meant that they had learned to maintain their traditions while coexisting with the humans and mutants of Travenios, and in turn sharing their own with others and adopting theirs.

This cultural syncretism was by no means swift, and there was still a clear contrast between the humans and mutants of Travenios and the Hadrians living there. On the topic of clothing, it seemed that the style in which Hadrian clothes were made seemed to be quite popular among Travenions in general, as even humans and mutants who did not require them used them, apparently finding them 'fashionable'. The Hadrians, for the most part, didn't understand, but since it opened up business opportunities for them and helped promote some appreciation for their culture, they didn't mind. However, there were other areas where their lifestyle contrasted quite a bit with that of the Earthlings. At the edge of the Hadrian neighborhood, for instance, one could clearly see the division between the style of house that humans preferred to inhabit and the crystal towers that Hadrians were accustomed to. Then, of course, were the obvious differences between Hadrians and most Earthlings, which made matters more confusing.

Still, the truth was that everyone was learning to get along, thankfully, and this became more evident than ever during the holiday season. While thousands of people set up their trees and spread lights around their homes, the Hadrians did their part, appreciating the idea and the spirit behind the holiday, even if they did not share the beliefs of the Earthlings. However, rather than do the same things, the people of Hadrimmelis used their creativity to their advantage. The spires of glass that were their homes already provided a good canvas to work on, and before long, strategically-placed, colorful lights, and more importantly, their myriad reflections, created an effect similar to that of the Christmas lights dotting the houses of humans and mutants alike. To commemorate the event, they also erected a crystal tree, far larger than any of the spires, in the middle of their neighborhood, adorning it with all sorts of things and placing at the very top the figure of a dragon standing on a star.

As per their traditions, they offered their hospitality to strangers, feeling safe from any ill intent by the measures that were in place thanks to Thomsen Tech. As a result, there were many Earthlings gathered around the great crystal tree, and it was there that another miracle began, for the humans told the Hadrians of their carols, and sang them, and in turn, the Hadrians joined in. By then, it was well known amongst Travenions (and among many other groups, Jump City's citizens among them for instance) that the clawed men and women had voices that could inspire cowards and soothe giants when they sang, but at that time, they all sang of peace and hope and love around the glittering crystal tree, their voices coming together into a choir of beauty that very few things in the world could surpass. Needless to say, all the Earthlings invited there, and in general everyone who was listening, was completely enraptured by the melody that echoed through the crystal corridors of that area of Travenios, attracting more and more people to the immediacies of the crystal tree, be it to join the grand choir or to listen and bask in its music.

Hypnotized as they were, it was to be expected that they would be unable to tell that a young boy with white hair and a black cloak had snuck past them. Only when there was a pause between one carol and the next did the Travenions finally notice the child who had somehow climbed up onto the crystal tree. Many of them looked at him with concern, and others shouted at him to get down, but he simply smiled and cleared his throat.

"Hello, people of Travenios." He said, prompting the crowd surrounding him to fall silent, as if they wondered what exactly the child had to say. His smile grew wider at this, and he continued. "I know you're wondering what I'm doing here, but I just wanted to say: Merry Christmas." He stated.

Not a moment later, gasps of shock and cries of joy were heard throughout the small plaza where the crystal tree was located, and tears of crystal and gold alike stained the ground as nearly every Travenion present was allowed one opportunity to meet their friends and loved ones who had passed away, to have, as the boy had said, a very merry Christmas. The Hadrians especially were struck with awe and joy as they raced to meet the dead. While the Builder War had not caused excessive harm to the Hadrian race as a whole, thanks to the protection granted to them by the Black Dragon and the intervention of the human fleet, during the initial stages of the invasion of Hadrimmelis, there had been an unavoidable death toll as the warriors of the different clans and tribes attempted to hold back the monstrous Alephs that threatened to destroy their world and their race. Many brave fighters who were also fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, were brought back that day, and the Hadrians were infinitely thankful for it.

But when they looked up to the crystal tree, nobody was there.

---

A small, hooded figure walked through a crowded street, pizza slice in hand as he tried to avoid being knocked aside by the annoying mortals while trying to find his next destination. It would likely have been far simpler to just head there in the first place, but he had refused to do that, holding the firm belief that if Jump City had a Pizza Corner, it was because it was meant to be visited. Taking a bite of his slice, Necromancer spotted a current amidst the mass of humanity that would lead him closer to his goal, and so, he hopped right in, following everyone until it suited him no more. Then, he moved away, very grateful for finding himself away from such an enormous concentration of people. Now that he was on an emptier street and closer to his chosen destination, he continued walking. After that, it was a rather simple matter to arrive at the easily accessible, if relatively isolated Tower of Youth, where the group of superheroes known as the Young Bloods resided. The boy knocked on the door twice.

It did not take long until a girl opened the door. She had pink hair neatly tressed into a single braid that reached down to her waist, and a pair of red eyes that oddly did not give her a hostile appearance. That, alongside the scale-covered arms, sharp claws, bone tail and four horns immediately betrayed her identity as the Dragon Mage, one of the Young Bloods, and one of the more famous of the lot, at that. She looked down to see who was knocking, and as Necromancer pulled back his cloak, she saw that it was a young boy with white hair. Crouching a little to be at the same height, she looked into his eyes, smiling. "Hello there. Did you need anything?" She asked him.

"Is Marvin home?" The boy asked, surprising Kirisvala. She stood puzzled for a moment, before answering.

"I, um, I... I'm not sure, hold on..." The Hadrian told the boy, before briefly closing her eyes to concentrate. It was quite fortunate that she had made a mental connection with her closest friend, since that meant she could contact him in the case of an odd situation like this one.

"Mars, do you know any Marvin?" She asked the young genius through their telepathic link.

Several meters below, Mars paused as he heard the question. He would have loved to bring his palm to his face, but it was currently holding very dangerous tools, so that was not quite the best idea.

"I am Marvin, Kiris, but... don't call me that, okay?" He called back. There was a reason he called himself Mars, after all.

"Oh, so it's you!" Kiris replied, feeling somewhat embarrassed. He was her closest friend and she didn't even know his name! How did that happen? A blush spread across her face as she understood her little blunder. Evidently, Necromancer was not privy to her mental conversation with Mars, and so, as he saw this after several moments of waiting, he raised an eyebrow at her, but she did not seem to notice. "Um, anyway... there's a cute kid with white hair here who says he's looking for you. Is he someone you know?" She asked, wondering who this boy was.

"What? No. Hold on, I'll check it out." He said, before abandoning his workstation and heading to the elevator to see what was going on in the ground floor. Once he arrived, he walked up to the door, nodding at Kiris, who stepped away to let him see the boy. Indeed, Mars did not know him, nor did he know how the child would know his name, but he figured he could find out by asking. "Who are you and what do you need me for?"

"Rather straightforward, are we?" Necromancer said with a grin. "Merry Christmas." He continued, not giving Mars a chance to react. With his usual sentence spoken, he began walking away, smiling to himself as he waited expectantly for the other boy to realize what was going on.

"Wait!" Mars shouted as he took a step forward, but before he could take another, he felt a hand on his shoulder, or more accurately, a claw.

"Mars..." Kiris spoke to him, and when he turned around, he saw the reason. Two people had just appeared within the tower, both of them looking at Mars and smiling. As far as Kirisvala was concerned, these two were strangers, people she had never seen, but that was not so to Mars. The young genius knew those two very well. The first thing that made it evident was the surprise on his face, followed by fearful skepticism.

"This... this isn't scientifically possible!" He shouted, not knowing what to think. But the more he looked at them, the more he realized that it was true, that they were right there, in front of him, waiting. They were not illusions or ghosts. They were there. They were back.

"...Mom? Dad?"

Necromancer was not there anymore, but he could still see the reaction of the young man through the souls he had brought back, and it was every bit as amusing as he had imagined it would be. He giggled as he continued walking away from the tower, opting to wander a bit before moving on. His job was nearly done, after all, and he was proud of himself for it, but he felt like he needed a small break, and so, he soon found himself wandering through the city's park, cheerfully humming to himself as he admired the landscape around him, the trees, the flowers. He envied them. In fact, he envied all living things, for the simple fact that they all could, and would die, whereas he had long ago given up his hopes of one day seeing his own end. Nowadays, however, he preferred not to dwell on such things, and simply admired things for their qualities, not for their destiny, immutable just like his, but so much more pleasant.

Suddenly, he froze.

"What..." He began, though there was no one there to hear him speak. "...are you doing here?" The boy asked, anger in his voice. After another moment, he frowned. "What do you mean you died?! I know that! You're dead! What I asked is why you are here! You're not supposed to be back!" He shouted. Another moment, and he buried his face in his hands. "How did you go and get yourself KILLED AGAIN when I brought you back to spend the holidays with your son! HOW! Why..." He trailed off, before screaming into his hands. Panting, he plopped down next to a tree, his back against the wood as he pulled his knees close and brought his face to his hands once again. "Why are humans so god damned stupid...?" He sobbed, before angrily obliterating the soul of the mother, knowing that he would end up recreating it later, but not caring for now. He was mad that his efforts had been for naught, but above all else, he was frustrated. For endless time he had sat and watched everything die while he remained eternal, never even understanding why such a thing would happen. He saw everything acquire the one thing that he could never touch, and even in times such as that Christmas, when he set aside his whims and tantrums for the sake of giving some people one day of happiness, they tempted him, they waved their mortality in front of him, despite his generosity. It was for this reason that the boy cried.

"Never cry alone." Someone said to him, and, puzzled, the boy moved his hands away from his face and looked up. Standing next to him was a girl, younger than the Hadrian, and quite different as well. For one, she had darker skin, and brown hair that was shorter than Kirisvala's. She was wearing a very simple white dress, with an umbrella on her hand and a pair of sandals on her feet. "It's okay to cry." She said. "But never cry alone."

Necromancer was surprised, and quite honestly, a bit uncomfortable. He was supposed to be the one visiting people and make them feel better, not the other way around! But he had to admit to himself that what she said helped him, ever so slightly.

"Although," The girl continued. "you clearly are not alone, are you?" She stated, pointing at the air. To anyone else, it would have seemed as if she was mad, but to those sensitive to souls, the air was rife with azure glow, the trail left by souls in their wake. This aura of sorts was all around Necromancer, even when he was not using his powers, and only people such as him and the girl could see it. However, she did not seem to dwell on it for long, and instead sat down next to the boy, leaning against the tree. "Use my shoulder, if you need one." She offered. Necromancer complied, and let his eyes run dry.

"Who are you?" He asked once he was done.

"My name is Nelli." She told him as she turned to look at him. "And yours?"

"I don't have one." He confessed. It was true, his name was an invention. Ever since he could remember, he had existed, with no name and no end.

"It happens." Nelli said with a nod. "But don't take it personally. Names come and go. I once had to chase mine into a quetzal nest. Luckily the birds knew that it was trying to trick them into carrying it away. Otherwise, I might be in the same boat as you. That is an idiom, by the way. They are quite amusing to learn, don't you think?" She spoke, leaving the Necromancer thoroughly bemused for a second.

Then, he simply giggled. "Where do you even get this from?" He asked.

"I come from a mysterious and magical place." She replied, smiling for the first time. It was a pretty smile, the endless child decided. Then, an idea came to him.

"Do you think... do you think my name might've been missing as well?" He inquired, almost pleadingly. Nelli pushed herself off the tree and moved a little to look at Necromancer better, and then brought a thumb to her mouth and bit her nail as she observed him thoughtfully for several moments. Next, she put a hand to his forehead, and then removed it, shaking her head.

"It's not likely. You lost it some other way." She said with a hint of resignation in her voice. Necromancer, however, shrugged.

"It's okay. I just wanted to make sure." He stated, before standing up and dusting off his black cloak. "Anyway, thanks for being with me, really. It helped me a lot, and few things seem to help me anymore. I think I can continue now. Thanks for everything." The boy told her with a heartfelt smile, the kind of smile that rarely appeared on his face and was usually replaced by a false one.

"You're welcome." Was the girl's only response, though her nod and her smile said more than enough. Happy with how this meeting had gone, Necromancer felt that it was time to finish his mission, and so, once more he brought out the soul of the Silver Dragon, one of his closest accomplices, for the lack of a better word to describe those souls that willingly aided him. This time, instead of allowing the boy to blunder as he attempted to climb onto her, the Silver Dragon immediately picked him up from the floor with an invisible force and placed him on her back.

"That's new." Nelli remarked as she observed the dragon.

"I am happy to see you are calm once more, child." The voice of the dragon echoed throughout the minds of all those present, in this case, Necromancer, and Nelli as well. "Now that we have nearly finished, however, I must ask: have you given any thought to my... request?" She asked.

"Oh, that, of course! I had nearly forgotten." Necromancer slapped his temples as he remembered what Mirikkalis had asked him before they began their Christmas crusade together. "Of course I plan to grant it, Miri. How could I not, when you've always been so nice to me?" He said, grinning. Then, looking around, he noticed Nelli still standing there, with both hands on her umbrella, eyeing Mirikkalis with curiosity and awe at the same time. At that moment, and idea sparked in the child's mind, and he called out to the girl. "Nelli!" He shouted, prompting her to look at him instead of looking at the dragon. "Have you ever gone to space and seen the stars?" The white-haired boy asked her.

"I hardly venture out of this park, to be honest." Nelli responded, tilting her head. "Why?"

But before she could receive an answer to her question, the same invisible force that had lifted Necromancer into the air earlier now gripped her, gently but firmly, causing her to rise into the air as well, only to land on the back of the Silver Dragon, next to Necromancer.

"Two tickets, please!"

---

"Why is this place special, again?" Asked one of the two figures present on the rocky azure surface of the barren plains of an empty planet. He had short brown hair and a single amber eye, the other one being covered by a piece of black cloth. Not far from where he sat, a blonde woman lay on the ground, hands behind her head as she stared off into space with crimson eyes. Unlike the young man sitting nearby, who was bare-chested, she wore an ornate red coat trimmed with gold thread, and black clothes underneath. Beside her, there was a golden circlet, and not far, a metal rod held a red cape above the ground.

"Addraku, do you see all the lights above?" Was the only response that the young man obtained. Curious, he looked up. Hundreds of thousands of stars dotted the sky, which was devoid of an atmosphere, allowing one to see everything that lay beyond the ground with astounding clarity. With this clarity, Addraku hoped to understand what Hadrimmelis wanted him to see, and so, he observed every cluster of stars in the celestial dome above, but failed to discover the mystery. In the end, he decided, there didn't seem to be anything special about the stars.

"I do, mother." He finally said. "What about them?"

"I made them." She stated as she sat up and pointed at the sky. Before Addraku could say anything in response, the human manifestation of the Black Dragon continued. "From any point in the surface of this planet, there is not a single light in the sky that isn't a creation of my own. Every planet and every star that you see up there, every single one is my creation." She lowered her arm and turned to Addraku, smiling. "That is why this place is special, to me at least. I enjoy coming here and admiring what I've done from time to time." She said.

His reaction, she did not expect, at least, not entirely, as she could of course see how he would react before he did, but even so, what she saw was unexpected. Addraku started laughing heartily, shaking his head as he calmed down. "You know, I expected the reason for our presence to be something deep and mystical, but you just wanted to feed your ego a little."

At this, Hadrimmelis herself chuckled. "You're not wrong." She admitted. "The main reason I brought you here, however, is simply because I thought it would be nice to show you a place that is special to me. Ultimately, I wished to spend time with you, as I consider you my son. Is this not what families do during Christmas on Earth?" The World-Dragon inquired.

"Well, mom, humans don't usually go on trips to outer space to celebrate that. We just sit to eat turkey together and watch Miracle on 34th Street for the hundredth time or something like that." Addraku responded, before shrugging. "That said, this is fine too. I won't deny the sight is quite pretty."

"That is good to hear." She stated as she stood up.

Suddenly, Hadrimmelis felt a presence whose mind she could not perceive, and this worried her. She knew of very few things that could resist her psychic probing, and knew fewer still that would be hostile to her. She did not worry for her own safety, as she was powerful, and even if a battle would wreak havoc on her creations, rebuilding was always possible, especially for one such as her. What concerned her the most was her son, Addraku. Though he could harness the might of the Dragon Force and had the power that he stripped from the Time Demon, he was still rather weak and inexperienced, and she did not want to see any harm done to him. Thus, she stood alert, scanning the landscape for any signs of danger.

The only thing she saw was a pair of figures on the horizon, slowly approaching. As they moved closer and closer, the World-Dragon could make out more details: the two figures were a young boy with white hair, and a dark-skinned girl with an umbrella. They were not familiar to her, but they also did not seem to hold any hostile intent, though Hadrimmelis did not let her guard down, knowing how deceptive looks could be in her universe.

Once the two figures were next to her, however, neither of them made a move. Instead, the boy simply looked up and smiled. "Hadrimmelis?"

The World-Dragon nodded. "That is my name." She replied cautiously.

"Merry Christmas." Necromancer spoke. At that moment, five orbs of azure light emerged from the air around him and slowly morphed into humanoid shapes. These shapes began gaining features of their own, and within moments, they were easily recognizable as five different individuals, five individuals that the Black Dragon knew all too well. At that moment, and perhaps for the first time, Addraku saw the one he considered her mother be taken aback by something, which left him stunned as well, but seeing what soon followed, he understood. Hesitant, Hadrimmelis reached out to touch the face of one of the five figures, her fingers making contact with the flesh of the other woman's face. Seeing that it was solid, she threw her arms around the woman, pulling her into a tight hug.

"I missed you..." The World-Dragon murmured, holding back tears. "I missed you all..."

The five individuals who had appeared in front of her and who were now surrounding her and showering her with affection were the five siblings she had lost during the Time Demon War, millions of years ago. For a long time she had not seen them, and so, now that she had the chance, she was elated. There were so many things she wanted to tell them, so many things they had missed, so much she had yet to say.

Slipping away from the dragon reunion, Addraku decided to leave his mother to be happy with her long lost siblings and, instead, chased after the two figures who had seemingly caused all of this. He soon caught up to them as they leisurely walked through the barren azure landscape, and as he approached, they turned around to look at him.

"Hey." Addraku greeted as he caught up to them. "I just wanted to thank you for that. I don't think I've ever seen my mother any happier than she is now." He told the boy sincerely, receiving a shrug and a smile in response.

"You're welcome. It's just what I do." Necromancer replied, before turning around. He and Nelli continued walking away.

"If your friend is back there with her sister, then how will we get back to Earth?" The girl asked him, prompting the boy to grin.

"Simple." He said, and stopped walking. He extended his hand upwards into the sky, and several moments passed, but nothing seemed to happen until, suddenly, an enormous mass of bones descended from the sky, called forth from the confines of the universe and subjugated to the whims of the deathless one. In front of him, the bones reassembled into what could be most accurately described as a skeletal dragon's head. Gesturing towards the strange skull, Necromancer looked at Nelli. "Ladies first." He said. She simply stared at the skull for several seconds, but eventually nodded and climbed up onto it, sitting down on its eye, with Necromancer following close behind. Once inside, he snapped his fingers, and the skull began flying away, towards Earth.

[The Republic of Atria]

Otis followed Medusa to a hanger where several other members of the Inhuman Royal guard were waiting. He couldn't help be feel slightly out of place. No one seemed to care that he was there, or they were happy that he was coming along. The only reason he was there was because of his powers and he knew that. At first it bothered him that he was only there because he had the power to do practically anything he wanted and then some, but then he realized that at least people still wanted him. Of course that opinion would change should someone else had gotten the Omega Effect, but why not take advantage of it. "This is the plan." Medusa spoke. "Bolt and I will keep him preoccupied while you all search for evidence of his lies. The Terrigen cloud passed over Korea and he claims not a single one of his people underwent terrigenesis. The odds of that are extremely unlikely."

Otis listened silently, unsure of really what to say. The plan seemed solid enough to him. All he would have to do is be himself. Which isn't that hard on paper, but he had to be himself to the ruler of the most oppressive nation on the face of the Earth. That was slightly more challenging. The sip made two different landings. One while the ship was stealthed to drop off the search group, and the other one was a more direct flight to the center of Pyongyang. Otis felt slightly out of place in Attilan, in North Korea, he felt completely alien. Even beside someone he mostly considered to be a friend. He was already most likely the tallest person in the room, being a full head taller than Medusa, usually made slightly better by the fact that he had a wide stance. They stepped off their aircraft to a large, well put together military convoy. Tanks that would be considered old twenty years ago were lined up perfectly on both their left and right sides.

It was one thing being the tallest man in a room, it was an entirely different matter being the tallest person in an entire country. The amount of people giving him strange looks was borderline terrifying. Anywhere else, looks weren't uncommon, but most people kept to themselves and ignored him. Kim himself was there to greet both of them. "Ah, welcome to North Korea!" He said in a seemingly friendly tone. Neither of them were fooled, but nevertheless had to smile in return.

"Greetings Supreme Leader. I am Medusa and this is my guardsman, Bolt." She said and motioned to the tall, blue Inhuman standing beside her.

"Umm. Erm. Yes. I'm O-Bolt." He had forgotten that he was supposed to go by his Inhuman name rather than his human one, but he had to make a good impression, and compliments seemed to be the way to go. "I apologize if I seem nervous. It's not everyday one such as myself gets to meet someone of your grandness." It was half assed and completely nonsensical, but it seemed to work as Kim was delighted. He decided that it would be for the best if Medusa did the talking and he just stood there looking pretty. Kim invited them into his personal vehicle, which Otis was barely able to fit into due to his height and tail. He would normally make a crack at his own expense, but couldn't think of anything. It was a cramped ten minute car ride into what looked like Kim's home. Very large and elegant.

This is all bull and everyone on Earth, and then some, knows it. Why isn't anyone doing anything to stop it? Otis had the temptation to just put his foot down and do something, but couldn't bring himself to. It's not like anything Kim was was an actual threat to him. Not just him, plenty of people had the power to undo the pain being caused in North Korea.

Why wasn't anyone doing anything?

[Dandoniapolis]

Maximus stood on a quiet beach, watching the Loch. Sometimes, before jobs out here, he liked to see if he could catch a glimpse of the Selkie that inhabited the lake. Normal people called it a monster, but in his time as a member of the Table, Max had found that there was no such thing. There were only harmless beasts and dangerous ones. If any race should be called monsters, it was humans. Max saw the irony in this thought, but there was a difference in his controlling the population of beats that would hurt their species if allowed to act freely, and the needless slaughter of millions of innocent animals, men, and beasts. Man was earth's most monstrous child. Max shook his head as he realized the Selkie wouldn't appear he walked away from the beach, preparing for the work ahead.

The Wolf Moon rose over Scotland, and already Max could feel the ice cold wash over him. He shivered but quickly gained control. The movement would reveal his location, especially with the beast he was hunting. The Blaidd-ddyn was a crafty beast that was not to be taken lightly. It could see even the slightest movement. The hunger that consumed it's every day would take over and it would attack him if it had seen that shiver. The Blaidd was a tragic creature, created through multiple means. The Wolf Moon was featured in almost all of them, whether it involved an extreme show of willpower under its spell, or a blood sacrifice in it's silvery light, the moon controlled the beast. Indeed, it was this trait that had led Arthur himself to call it the "Scottish Werewolf". Max looked down the scope of his rifle, which was loaded with armor-piercing silver bullets. He saw a flash of white up ahead. Knowing he had found his prey, Max moved forward.

The Blaidd was as beautiful as the legends said it was. Its silvery fur reflected the moonlight, completed with the look of something with the strength to rip your skull from your shoulders as easily as taking the cap off of a soda bottle. Its eyes were redder with than the blood that covered its paws. In fact, they were the sort of eyes that animals had that seemed to glow from within. Its fangs and claws were black like Onyx and it walked on its two back paws. Lining up the shot Max took in a deep breath, and fired.

It was a shame that he had to kill these beasts, yet it was preferable than seeing Man eradicate them.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

---

---

---

"No worries, kid. You asked, after all, and I don't really mind. Just bear in mind I might not be the best teacher. I had to learn to use my powers through trial and error. But if you'll do your best to learn I guess I have to do my best to teach you, too." Sarah said to Roy after the boy thanked her for agreeing to train her. Even though they'd already had the conversation the other day it didn't hurt to remind her, and also clarify that training wouldn't start soon. Afterwards, the eldest of the Grimm sisters looked at Hanah, chuckling at her joking complaints about being alone. "Oh, there's no reason you can't hang out with us while I train Roy here, but if you really want, I can lend you John. You know, as a sign of good faith." She said, speaking as if trading human beings was the most natural thing in the world, though she was of course joking as well.

The episode with DeeDee was worrying, if only because it brought a lot of attention to the group and seemed to show that the witch lacked control over her tail, but the damage to the floor, at least, was fixed. Sarah would've loved to simply ignore it and assume that was the end of it, but sadly DeeDee continued acting erratically, asking if she was in a dream, causing Sarah to frown.

"Heart rate's normal, blood is healthy, you're getting enough oxygen to your brain. You're certainly not in a dream or hallucinating, so, mind telling us what exactly is going on with you?" She asked. While she didn't mind Sam being close to DeeDee, she had to take caution in case something dangerous was going on with her. She had taken care of Sam and Hanah since they were little, after all, so she had grown rather protective of them.

---

---

As the tournament reached the pre-finals break, Jamie found herself lying on a bench near one of the building's stores, holding a half-eaten hot dog in hand. She had been pretty excited about the tournament at first, but now, in all honesty, she was bored. She had expected the other contestants to put up more of a fight, but in the end, none of them had been much of a match for her. There were some national-level players present, but she still beat them with relative ease, hardly even bothering to get a perfect score, thinking that it was not worth the effort when she was sure to win one way or the other. While they were indeed good players in their own right, perhaps even great, from her perspective they were slow and unrefined, which made them all sitting ducks.

These thoughts and more ran through her head as she took another thoughtful bite of her hot-dog, ignoring the curious and/or remorseful stares thrown her way and the occasional attempt to talk with her or tell her to sit up. After all, it was probably poor etiquette to use up the whole bench like that, but Jamie didn't really care. She didn't often go out, anywways, she was sure that society could put up with the few times she did.

She ignored everything, at least, until she noticed a shadow being cast over her. Flicking her purple hoodie out of the way of her eyes, she looked up as she took another bite, instantly recognizing the person addressing her. Really, it was difficult not to recognize her if one had seen her at least once before already, what with the green hair and ridiculous attire. However, perhaps an even strongest reason was the fact that Jamie had seen her matches, and she had cleared through them almost as easily as she had. If she had to guess, the weird girl had made it to the finals, which was apt enough given she was the only one who seemed like a decent match.

Lazily, Jamie sat up on the bench and yawned. "I'm fine." She replied, ignoring Luna's trash-talking for the most part, not thinking it was important enough to pay attention to it. Whatever had to be shown would be shown during the match, anyway. "Name's Jamie." The black-haired girl added afterwards, before taking the last bite of her hot-dog and dropping the napkin on a nearby bin, before looking back up at Luna.

---

---

"Huh...?" A numb consciousness murmured as it began climbing back out of the black abyss of oblivion. Slowly but surely, it returned to its body, guided both by the will to survive and by the horrendous noise coming from all around it. And then, once it arrived, Kirisvala's eyes opened. She was lying on the ground, much like she remembered, as she had fallen unconscious shortly after getting rid of the gas for the sake of her friends. However, as she managed to sit up and looked around, she noticed that she wasn't in the same place. For once, Mars was nowhere to be seen, and in fact, no one was, not her allies, not her foes. She soon realized she was more or less surrounded by a barricade of rubble, and stood up, looking beyond in order to spot the others. She soon saw Mars, who was attempting to shield Nico from the bullets of the enemy, and frowned. She didn't want to see others trying to hurt him like that, and if he was actually injured from it, she would never forgive herself for not intervening. He had likely been the one who had put her in a safe place, anyways, she had to repay the favor somehow.

The Dragon Mage began attempting to focus in order to draw out the power of her spellsongs, but, no matter how she tried, she simply could not. The effects of the gas were still disorienting her, even though they had mostly worn off by now, and so she could not concentrate enough to cast any spells. Her magic roar would likely only cause trouble, as well, and she doubted she would be able to use it in the first place, dazed as she was.

But she simply couldn't do nothing, and so, she decided to resort to the most basic form of combat that the Hadrians had available. Her claws were far more powerful than human hands, so she took advantage of them. Picking up a large piece of rubble, she tossed it towards the thugs firing at Mars and Nico, hoping it would cause some damage and get them to stop firing in order to give her teammates a moment to breathe.

[The Republic of Atria]

Otis sat quietly as Medusa and Kim talked about stuff. He was too busy thinking about what he should do about the situation. It wouldn't be hard for him to put an end to it, but the backlash could be catastrophic. He wasn't exactly up to date on politics, but there was likely a good reason that no one had liberated the country yet. On the other hand, the people are suffering terribly, and he did not want that to go on while it could easily be stopped. "-Bolt?" Medusa broke his train of thought. He didn't even realize that the car had stopped and that they were getting out. "Bolt, we have things to do." Medusa told him as he climbed out of the car like a child much too big for the McDonalds playpen.

"Sorry, Your majesty. I just had something on my mind is all." He admitted and followed her.

"Your personal guard seems to be quite absent minded for protecting royalty." Kim quipped.

"He often is. But he's one of the best ones I have. And the children love him. So I can see past that." Medusa replied doing her best not to outright insult the man she manipulated several times in the past.

"And quiet too. I can't even hear him walking. Maybe one day you will let me borrow him." He said half serious.

Otis, who had been listening the entire time, finally decided to speak for himself. "I serve the Queen and the Queen only. My duty is to the Inhumans. I'm certain you have many highly skilled guardsmen, and don't need me." The more Kim spoke, the more he had to degrade himself. And he hated it. He was not some stick in the mud and up his ass type of person. He was free spirited and playful, doing whatever he felt like doing at that moment, but he had to do it because Medusa wanted him to.

"And he's loyal too? Queen Medusa, you simply must let me take him. Only for a day. And then we can discuss the matter of your people." Kim wanted Otis, obviously to stick him with old needles and try to create more of him. Otis knew what was coming and was most certainly not looking forward to it.

"...Of course. Bolt, For the next twenty four hours, do whatever the Glorious Leader asks of you to the best of your ability." Medusa complied. She and Otis both knew that he was in no real danger, and if he had to, he could just simply walk out. And it would bide time for the recon team.

"Of course my Queen." Otis replied sounding like he was more than happy to go through with whatever she asked, when he had the obvious dread of having to put up with the fat bastard for an entire day. Kim called several of his guards over and told them to escort Otis to his private quarters to wait while he finished preparations with Medusa. Otis followed the guards obediently to Kim's home where he was told that he had free reign of the building, but he could not leave until the Glorious Supreme Leader had come for him. He had an hour or so to kill, so he looked around the house until he came across a man hiding in a very poor spot. There were no guards around, so Otis felt like he could speak normally. "Hey. What are you doing here? If they catch you in here, they'll kill you. Or worse. I can get you out. Don't worry, I'm a friend." Otis spoke quietly and offered his hand to the man who reached out.

And at the last second... "I sincerely apologize." He grabbed Otis's hand...

...And then black.

[The Starlight]

We all want to feel loved. We all want a shot at glory. We all want this tiny candle, that tiny flame that we call life to last. But it never does, and over the years, some have realized. I have realized it. No matter how careful, how famous, how rich we will all fall. And at times that seems like all we can ever do, fall and fall and fall. But there's a lesson I learned a while ago. Why do we fall? So we can get back up. Everyone wants to be remembered in some way, to have a legacy. Everyone wants something to live for, something to defend.

Defended

The Stormlight spheres quickly melted the surrounding area. She had to be careful in directing them, or she could bring the crevasse down on her head, and she doubted that her force fields could withstand thousands of pounds of ice.

Her spheres, humming, revealed a console of some kind about 10 feet in front of the ring, with 39 buttons encircling a larger, red button. And most interestingly, they possessed the same cryptic glyphs upon the ring.

Shrugging to herself, she pressed several buttons, but there was no response. There could be thousands of combinations that could be used to activate the ring. After ten minutes of pressing buttons to no avail, she opened up the console and looked at the wires. The machinery behind the console, or whatever it was, it was decidedly and convincingly not human. She tinkered with the dozens of wires, and then supposed that the console might need a spark. One, tiny little spark can ignite a fire, raise a rebellion, start a war. One little spark of love and joy makes life worth living, she thought. Then again, she was probably being overdramatic, as she had been told she was prone to, as she lifted her hands, and then carefully dashed two force fields together. A blue spark emerged, catching on the wire, traveling down it from the console to the ring. And then, it glowed.

The first thing she heard was like the rumbling of a stone gate, being opened for the first time in thousands of years. She stood back, as the rumbling continued, and then turned to the console. The maximum amount of buttons she could press in one combination was seven, but each time she attempted to make the ring work, nothing happened and the rumbling ceased, the corresponding figures had failed to lock on, or work at all. After two more hours of combinations, Elena not having any trouble with repetition due to her eidetic, photographic memory, something finally appeared to happen. A white, thick cloud billowed out of the ring, and afterwards a blue, shimmering surface like water enveloped the Ring.

Tossing a rock through the water-like material and moving to the other side, she expected to see it travel through. Instead, the rock had disappeared, through the ring, and now she began to suspect that it was some sort of transportation device. But after a short amount of time, the water-like substance disappeared. Conducting some tests, she discovered that the Ring would stay active after every combination for 48.9 seconds, exactly. Her investigations revealed that the cloud had vaporization properties, able to reduce nearly anything into nothingness. Also, all of the successful combinations ended with an A-like glyph, one with a circle on the point and no horizontal line connecting the legs of the A. She assumed that it was the essential element for the Ring; either the glyph was the location or type of this Ring, or something else that prevented the combination from going awry. She also produced a sketch of the Ring with all 39 symbols. She would need much more equipment than what she had so far to track where the Ring would take her, the obvious, final step to her preliminary tests. But for now, she settled for suiting up in her winter coat, and after punching in what she thought to be coordinates for where she was going, followed by the A-like glyph, she encompassed herself in 2 layers of force fields. The first field was the usual bubble, hopefully able to protect her from most things. The second layer was more specific, being skintight force field armor. This Ring would take her anywhere, and she also made sure she had a grappling gun, just in case. Then, pressing in the coordinates, she waited for the ensuing cloud to dissipate, and then stepped through.

It was like she was sliding down a tunnel, with several colors assaulting her. And then, abruptly, it stopped, the Ring hurling her out of itself, and onto a new planet. She stumbled on the steps of the dais that the Ring was upon, and looked up in time to memorize the symbols that this Ring had on it. She looked up, only to see it was snowing, and she groaned, wondering if she was still on Earth. But as she rose above the clouds encased in her usual bubble force field, she looked up, at the stars, raising an eyebrow in response to what she saw. Those stars were definitely not of her galaxy, or at least, as far as her knowledge of astronomy went. In order to know exactly where she was, she would have to rig up some sort of deep-space telemetry device on herself, connected to a computer back home.

But some of her theories were confirmed at least. With 2,349,088,560 possible Ring coordinates, there had to be a system of Rings across the universe, perhaps across the multiverse. She wondered who possessed the power to do such a thing, and why they would do such a thing, and there were any number of possible answers to those. Anyway, she surmised that typing in each set of coordinates opened up a wormhole to another Ring on another planet. Perhaps she could find a friendly planet that had more information on the race that had built these Rings, and also of their functions. But with this device, humanity could map the stars…and so much more. The Ring allowed for nigh-instanteous travel between planets. The military and so many other factions would love to get their hands on the Ring, which put her in both an advantageous and precarious situation.

Realizing that staying above the clouds and keeping the force field intact was quickly draining her finite energy, she descended, collecting several samples of the rock, snow, air, earth, and anything else she could find. This planet seemed to be uninhabited, and perhaps, in the long term, uninhabitable, with, her devices measuring, -35 degree weather. And as ice began to collect on her force-fields, she finally acknowledged the fact that it was too cold here, even for her, and trudged through the snow back to the Ring. Entering the coordinates that she had seen on this Ring, followed by the A-like glyph, a wormhole engaged, and she dragged herself up the steps and through it, thankfully, in a moment, finding herself back ‘home’, or at least, on Earth, in the crevasse. Snuggling up in all of her blankets, she resolved to sleep a little, and quickly did so, her quiet snores echoing in the cave.

…

When she awoke at least 6 hours later, judging by the position of the sun, Elena yawned, and, rummaging through her equipment, found her meal; some bread, a little chicken, orange juice and a banana. It was as the old adage said: Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a pauper. Feeling sufficiently energized, she geared up again, not going with the heavy winter jacket this time, deciding to just turn and head back to Earth if she encountered another wintry planet. Entering a different variation of coordinates, the Ring activated itself, Elena smiling to herself and stepping through, into the wormhole.
This was what she had been looking for: something to explore, worthy of her time and effort. Being a hero was also worthy, but it was tiring, especially after defending Gotham by herself for all those months. She, now, fully appreciated what Bruce and all of his Bat family did, in committing so much of their time, sweat, and blood to that dark city. Even though she was excited by the prospects of the Ring, she was not naïve enough to be blind to its dangers. She could, conceivably, create a wormhole to a planet that had been consumed to a black hole, possibly endangering the entire planet, or perhaps even the entire galaxy. Also, there were countless malicious races that would love to invade a mineable, populated planet such as Earth through this Ring, if they became alerted to the fact that Earth’s Ring was active. Thus, she would have to be very, very careful not to make any waves, or barely even a ripple. And, she would have to devise some sort of defense system for the Ring to keep unwanted visitors out.

She exited the Ring as these thoughts raced through her mind, this time, managing to stay upright. To her relief, this was a sunny planet. And, she had arrived in the midst of a town, surrounded by a crowd of people. Surveying the town quickly, with its straw roofs and brick buildings she surmised that they were about a century behind Earth’s technology, though this was at first glance. Smoke rose from their chimneys, and obviously they had discovered fire’s uses. But she spotted no cars, or metal buildings, and, from a windmill she saw in the distance, they had not created the steam engine either, or gone through an Industrial Revolution similar to that of Earth.


Looking at the crowd of people looking at her expectantly, she turned her attention back to the crowd, settling for a small wave and a “Hello?”


Apparently, that had been all that the crowd had been expecting, as they cheered something about a “Chosen One.” Her look of confusion must have been apparent, one man pushing through the crowd, which soon made way for him. Rushing up the steps of the dais, he looked up at Elena with joyful eyes. “The Chosen One has come!”


“Chosen One?” Elena asked, cautiously.


“Yes, yes, you are the Chosen One!” he said excitedly. The man wore a simple, stained set of brown robes, with leather boots, and a tall staff was in his hand. “Welcome to Orgau, Chosen One. I am Veare, the prophet of this town.” He grabbed Elena’s hand and the two of them rushed through the crowd, which soon followed them to a town hall of such, where cooks were setting up food. “Let us feast!” he shouted the crowd, who cheered again, rushing to the seats, brushing aside Elena’s questions. And so, she was seated, along with Veare at the head of the table, who, when all the food was placed, led the town in some sort of prayer to a being called Falnek. The mob looked expectantly at Elena as food was placed in front of her, and it looked rather Earth-like, potatoes, some sort of sauce, some greens and pork. She ate carefully, slowly, rolling her first bite over her tongue to check for anything odd, or any poisons. But she tasted nothing out of the ordinary and began to eat at a regular pace, listening to Veare as he spoke pompously of Orgau and its peoples’ achievements. When she finished, wiping her mouth with a cloth, she looked at Veare sternly, her stare shutting him up. “You spoke of me as the Chosen One? What am I supposed to do? Slay a dragon? Cast a ring into the fires of Mordor?” she asked, cracking a smile at the last one, though Veare had a look of confusion at that.


“No. There is a prophecy, passed down my line, my family, you see, have always been the prophets for this town. The prophecy says that every 100 years, the Great Ring will bring forth a stranger from a different world. In order to prevent a cataclysm brought forth by the Great Enemy, Mored, the stranger must die.” he said definitely, staring at her now.
Her head snapped up at the last word. “Die?” she asked, her eyes already flickering, calculating the quickest exits, those who had weapons and so on. Two giants of men stepped up behind her, hands on their clubs. Somehow, she had not noticed them until now.
“Yes. First you must undergo a duel with all the finest warriors of our village. And when you die, we will cast you into the maw of Falnek, Lord of the Sea, and we shall be saved.” he stated, a malicious glint shining through his eyes. Suddenly he no longer looked the plump, kindly prophet with a staff, but a cunning man who had manipulated and killed his way to power.


“I’ll pass,” Elena snarled, flicking a hand and sending food flying everywhere. Then, leaping up on the table, she stretched out a circle with one foot, as if she was twirling. A blue shield flickered into existence before her, a primary part of her own adaption of martial arts which she had called Guard. It was a variation of Wing Chun and several other arts, stressing simultaneous attack and defense, similar to Form III in terms of lightsaber combat in Star Wars. It required her utmost focus, to keep a force-field at her back while she moved quickly and gracefully in both attack and defense, the force-field morphing to defend her blindside as she moved. The circle she had traced out on the ground was a circle that she would not cross, and one that she would allow no one else to cross either. The circle could move with her, and, it could expand, when facing multiple foes, but it remained a circle, fluid at all times.


Her eyes snapped up to the prophet again as he stretched out a hand, a stream of fire lunging out like from a dragon’s maw. Not wanting to remain stationary and allow others to sneak up on her, she threw herself into a sideways corkscrew, spinning to the side, her force-field becoming a shell over her body as she narrowly avoided the fire. And then, the two giants were upon her, Elena quickly flipping herself up and engaging them as if she had four arms, her force-fields covering her fist to make them harder as she pummeled them relentlessly, beating her fists into one giant before stepping back as the other threw a haymaker that whistled by. She was a blur, sliding underneath their feet and kicking them where it hurts, before going into a backflip to avoid another stream of fire. More warriors jumped on the table, and she fought them too, always moving, her force-field flickering behind her to prevent flanking, and as she threw up a force-field augmented arm to block two fists coming down upon her, she stumbled to her knees, desperately throwing up a force-field around her whole body as her eyes found the prophet, a mad grin on his face. “That’ll be the treantanium travelling through your blood, weakening knew. Not lethal, but enough to paralyze you. As you move and are more active, it spreads quicker.”

Elena, rising up in her force-field, tiredly, expanded her force-field, pushing everyone but her off the table. And then, she ran, leaping up and swinging on a chandelier to send her sailing, feet first through the windows. She heard her pursuers getting up to chase her and she rolled, jumping up on her feet, drawing on her Stormlight spheres to boost her speed, knowing that that would also quicken the poison traveling through her, but hoping to reach the Ring before that. But as she glowed from the Stormlight, forcing her legs into a sprint, she knew the treantanium was too potent, and as she neared the Ring, she stumbled, two thrown daggers having found their target in her shoulders. Still she crawled on, but she knew she was caught, and her mouth extended in a silent scream as three more weapons plunged into each other. Her hand reached for the console, only to be broken as it was stomped on by a leather boot. And the last thing she saw was Veare’s sneering face as she cursed herself for not being too trusting.


When she awoke, the first thing she heard was the beating of drums. They were ominous and eerie in their beat, and all of the pain of the last few hours came back. Through slitted eyes, she could see that she was in a procession, chained, heading to a large lake. Feeling the ropes that bound her, as she was dragged on her knees she knew that she could escape them, but she was in no condition to be running, and she wouldn’t get far. So, she resolved to play the only card that she had: playing dead. She slowed her heartbeat, to the point that most machines would not be able to tell that she was alive, along with her metabolism, and simply held her breath. Next, her eyes seemed to glaze over, thanks to carefully placed force-fields that reflected off the sun, and she slumped her head. It soon drew attention, the procession stopping as the prophet came over. He slapped her, three times, to see if she was faking, but she had expected such, and kept her facial muscles lax.

“No matter,” the prophet proclaimed. “She is dead, but Falnek will still accept her. But he will not allow this dead filth to pollute his waters. Put her in a coffin!” he cried, and his will was obeyed, Elena feeling herself being dumped into a pine coffin, her arms still tied behind her back. It caused considerable pain to her hand, and her wounds, but she dared not flare her nostrils in pain, but knowing that she would need to release it somehow, channeled it into her toes, which twitched, imperceptibly. Next, her coffin was loaded into a wagon, and she was able to release her breath, and just in time too, as she was starting to feel nauseous.

After 5 minutes and 45.3 seconds, by her count, the wagon stopped, and her coffin was carried out again, and set close enough to the water that she could spell it. The drums reached their climax, and she heard chanting as she was lifted up again, the prophet shouting, “Accept the Chosen One, Falnek, and allow not Mored to bring his wrath upon us!”

With a heave, her coffin was hurled into the water, and now, her eyes snapped open, drawing on all the Stormlight spheres she had left to hone her focus.
She trained with the world’s greatest martial artists. Batman. Lady Shiva. Captain America. Shang Chi. Black Panther. Daredevil. Cassandra Cain. Iron Fist. The only one’s she hasn’t learned from is Daniel Carter, and not for lack of trying.

She learned many things, astronomy, toxicology, mythology, criminology, chemistry, espionage, tracking, forensics, camouflage, biology, history, and more. But at that moment, the skill that would come most in handy, from Batman, was escapology. The art of escape.

Straightjacket’s kindergarten. Locks and knots too.

Bench-pressing a pine coffin lid, which barely withstands the ever growing pressure of water as the coffin, wrapped with iron chains, sinks, with your hands tied behind your back, five stab wounds and a broken hand?

That’s harder.

But far from impossible.

And when she breaks the surface of the water, rising with not even a gasp for air, rising like a colossus from the depths of hell, staring wrathfully at her would-be murderers, they gape. Some wonder if she is a demon, or the devil. Others think she is an angel. The prophet asks, “Who are you?” One breathes out,
“How?”

How?

Every hero represents something. Batman is justice. Superman is hope. Wonder Woman is truth and love. Green Lantern is willpower. Spiderman is kindness. Captain America is the best America can be. Valka is loyalty. Craig is imagination. Wolverine is resilience. Bruce Banner is the struggle for redemption. Reed Richards is advancement. And Elena?

She is determination. The willingness to fall and then rise higher than before, the willingness to be beaten down and then get back up. Again. And again. And again. That, is how.

And so, now she walks to the Ring, the populace parting like the Red Sea before Moses. As she punches in Earth’s coordinates, she does not look once. When the wormhole engages, she walks up the steps of the dais, and then pauses, and stares into the soul of the prophet, who flinches. “Who am I?” she repeats quietly, tilting her head for a moment. And then it snaps back up, her eyes blazing as she says, “Your worst nightmare.”

It is only after she lands back in Antarctica that her shoulders, held up proudly, succumb to the pain. And she stumbles, scrabbling through her things with pain-blinded eyes, finding her phone and calling Bruce. But there is no signal, and so, sighing, she flies up, out of the crevasse, higher, and higher, encased in a force field, until she is high enough to get a signal. The call goes through but she is too tired, and she falls from the sky, her force-field flickering around her, maintaining its integrity just as she hits the ground, a headache like a dagger piercing through the pain. She blinked up owlishly at the sun, not minding the cold; before her body shuts down to prevent further damage.

[The Starlight]

Tomorrow Today
Cyberspace

After a day of hard work, as was always the case, he collapsed into his bed, Etla not yet having turned in for the night. As the CEO of a multi-billionaire country, philanthropist, inventor, superhero and city builder, his days were usually filled with work that he enjoyed, but still limited his opportunities.

But the night—the night was his. Not in the way that most might expect, that he was a night owl, but rather, his dreams were where he spent his free time. For he was a dreamer. Every night he dreamed, of all sorts of things, of stars, of rain and ideas and books and plays. It was while dreaming that he had developed many of the inventions that defined him. With a mind such as his, and with such acute control over the workings of his brain, there were no limits. While within a dream, he tended to be able to control them, rather, he was able to influence his perception of that ‘reality’, thus effecting how his dormant mind accepted the dream, and reacted to it. This was a delicate control, for if he altered his brain’s perception too far, he might not be able to separate from what was a dream, and what was reality, which would drive his mind insane as it attempted to find answers.

But tonight, he was feeling especially tired, and so he closed his eyes and attempted, hoping that he would encounter no nightmares. The young artificer had no control whatsoever against his nightmares, and as always, they would travel back in time to the most painful incidents in his life, the death of his mother, and then his father, and thirdly, the one year he spent in what he called hell.

There were no nightmares on that night, however, but something entirely new. Barely one millisecond after he felt the synapses in his brain slowing down as he drifted off to that blessed sleep; he awoke in an entirely new world. It looked similar to his virtual reality games, but somehow, more real. At first he marveled at his unconscious power to create an entirely new world in less than a second, and then he frowned, looking at the electric blue lines that ran across the floor, several of them converging and then meeting, running up the side of a dark skyscraper.

This was a world of geometry, with most of the buildings having sharp corners. The clouds above, or what appeared to be clouds, were like a silvery mist hanging above him. The lines that ran underneath hummed with energy as they outlined many of the buildings. This was a world of metal, a world of chrome, from what he could see, and yet, without nature, it was still beautiful. Animals of some material roamed the grounds, which was dotted with some sort of plant. He had not created this, and he looked down at himself, seeing himself in his pajamas. This world, wherever he was, was uniquely suited for one of his abilities. It appeared like it had all been built by many, many masterful, technologically advanced beings whom had each added a personal touch.

He then, seeing almost nothing of significance with his normal sight, accessed his Second Sight, as he called it, an ability, or rather, an application of his powers that he had, quite surprisingly, only utilized effectively recently. He had three forms of sight, Physical Sight, his normal sense through his eye, seeing only the physical realm. Next, was Second Sight, the act of him seeing only being a way for his mind to translate the information that it gathered in an easy way. To utilize Second Sight, he accessed what he had called the tech realm, where, for example, computers and the Internet really where. Humanity had only, in some way, managed to tap into Second Sight. When in Second Sight, he could not see physical things that possessed no technology, though his other senses could alert him of such. But Second Sight was extremely vulnerable to magic, to the extent that he could not even see it. He had only begun to explore Third, or Tertiary Sight, which blended Physical and Second Sight. And while he was aware of a Fourth Sight existing, it was beyond his grasp, for the moment.

For now, he turned to Second Sight, his act of blinking only being habit, and he was almost blinded by the magnificence he saw. This world had not been built, it had been coded, and to a degree of perfection and complexity that Craig could, very happily, spend night and day discovering. It was…beautiful. The coding implemented the primordial forces of nature, which here were apparently only simulated, and… Craig drew himself out of it, almost reluctantly, his Second Sight almost beginning to pain him due to the brilliance of the word.

Attempting to summon his armor, he found that he could not, as if there was a block on his mind, though the Orb of Cognition appeared in hand at his command. However, not even it knew where Craig was, despite having access to the universe’s greatest libraries and databases. Shrugging to himself, he began to walk towards the dark skyscraper that he had seen illuminated with those strange blue lines.

To his surprise, he reached the skyscraper in less than a minute. Confused, he turned back, being sure that he should’ve had to walk at least 2 miles, which would have taken him considerably longer than one minute without his Silverwing armor. Shrugging to himself, he stepped on the gray circle clearly labeled in front out the Skyscraper. And once he stood there, the mutant rose into the air, riding a silver monolith that emerged from the ground, a bridge of unknown material emerged, allowing him to walk across to the skyscraper, a door of sorts sliding open. Looking around carefully, he entered.

The first thing the inventor heard was music. It was haunting, and vibrated deep within the walls of the skyscraper and in him. The instrument sounded quite familiar to Craig, but he was unable to recognize it, only being to identify it partially as some sort of hybrid between a viola and a cello. And then he stopped analyzing it and simply listened, with emotion that transcended awe. To him, it seemed to be a dirge, a testament to a forgotten land. And it swept him away, to adventures in glittering caves full of diamonds, to the peak of a mountain where a wolf howled. It was a song fit to make the minstrels weep.

And when the music faded away, he entered, seeing perhaps 10 figures in a semicircle around one man, a strange instrument clasped in his hands. A warm fire crackled from a hearth, but Craig’s eyes were drawn to that man, who, though joined by 10 others, had a broken sadness in his eyes. The first thing he noticed was his blazing red hair, matching, if not surpassing the fire, the locks of his hair dancing with the flames of the fire. His eyes were an emerald green, and he looked down upon the strange instrument in his scarred hands.

The musician’s companions seemed to sense his approach almost immediately, their expressions shifting from respect to anger, as weapons appeared in hand. Craig, raising his hands, made his way to the door, saying “Uh, hello? And goodbye, too.” he said.

His would-be attackers’ eyes turned blank for a more than a moment, as if, Craig realized, they were accessing Second Sight. He too, turned to that form of sight, and he recognized within them a common brotherhood and friendship, and he lowered his hands, the others doing the same, their weapons disappearing. “Who are you?” asked one man, curious. “Never thought to see an Earthling here so early…”

Craig’s eyes shifted to the man still stationary, his visage the zenith of serenity. Still he clasped the instrument, and Craig asked a question of his own. “What was that…song?” he asked, pausing in the middle of his query to attempt to find a better word to describe something that had been so much more than just a song.

“Oblitus Mundi. It’s Latin, I believe, for Forgotten Worlds.” the fiery-locked musician explained, falling silent for another moment as he mused on it. “Oblitus Mundi is a requiem, a song of remembrance for those worlds that have been forgotten by the annals of history and time, especially those destroyed in the Builder War.”

Craig paused at that, remembering that first war he had ever fought in, and while it had been glorious, in a way, he hoped never to have to participate in another war. He struggled again, to find words to express his wonder, but failed again, the man looking up at his face with a wry smile.

“None can fully describe the song, written by Havilan on the sands of Dune. But that is alright. And as for who he is, Zalek, he is an Artificer Absolute, like the rest of us. But I suppose it is necessary that we do our usual introductions. Zalek, if you would start…”

The aforementioned Zalek stood, and spoke. “I am Zalek, the Kingmaker.” He was a short man, but stout, not in the width of in his stomach but in how he held himself. There was an imprint of what appeared to be a diamond etched into his chocolate skin, and certain parts of him glowed. His long hair was arranged in braids, and he gave a short bow to Craig.

Another stood to their full height, a woman with midnight black hair, “I am Wulea, the Smith.” Her eyes were a sharp grey, yet kind, and her cheeks were wrinkled with lines of laughter, though she did not look terribly old. A streak of silver ran through her otherwise pitch-black hair, and it gleamed like a pale star.

A man with sky blue skin and a wrinkled, frilled chin like those of the Skrull nodded at him, Craig immediately noticing his long and bushy sideburns. He greeted Craig with more welcome than perhaps all who had already spoke, his tone warm, a smile breaking through. “I am Valanas, the Innovator. Welcome, brother!”

The next Artificer rose, wobbling a bit before he adjusted his staff, upon which sparkling whorls had been carved. It was apparent to Craig that he had been injured in the leg, but the man taking out a hand, rather, hands to greet Craig was a surprise to the human. “I am Luer, the Builder. It is good to have another among us” he exclaimed, his 5 arms waving in excitement. Once that was done, he abruptly sat down, almost shyly, twisting his staff to reveal some device hidden within it, which he fiddled with.

A woman spoke next, Craig immediately noticing her long, golden hair, which she wore like a lion’s mane. “I am Gala, the Maker. Welcome, Craig.” Her smile was warm, but distant, as if she had been interrupted in some way. Craig then noticed her tail, appearing to be quite like a lion’s, flapping behind her.
Next, as she introduced herself, was “Yaera, the Wright.” Upon her back were silver wings that shimmered, Craig marveling at them, dwarfing both Yaera and nearly everything else in the room.

Finally, the seated minstrel rose, his red hair flickering like flames. “I am Kvothe. And I have far too many names, many of which shame me today. He was tall, so tall that he almost had to stoop, and yet, he appeared to be the most graceful of them all. His expression was mournful, yet he offered up a wry smile to Craig, clasping his scarred hands. “You too must state a title, stranger, and it will be your second name.”


The mutant thought then, running through a list of possible names in his head. He was silent for a long time, and the others smiled softly, as if they remembered their own name-choosings, and were silent. After a short while, his voice broke through the silence like a pen putting ink to paper. He looked at all of them then, and then spoke, quietly, yet confidently. “I am Craig, the Dreamer.”
After his declaration, the ice seemed to break, and the paragons of technology assembled there mingled, and introduced themselves, and their planets of origin. Only Kvothe remained aloof, his hands running over the six-strings of his instrument, listening but saying nothing, gazing into the fire for large periods of time, as if something brooded on his mind. After what seemed to be an hour or two, the Artificers, one by one, excused themselves, for they had many duties and projects to oversee. And then, there were two, Craig, and Kvothe, the latter turning to Craig suddenly, one eyebrow quirked in expectation, or, in anticipation.

“What is this place?” Craig asked.

The Artificer, whom, Craig noticed for the first time, seemed quite human, spoke, beckoning Craig to follow him back down to the ground, the two of them being encircled by a glowing teleportation ring, which deposited them near to where Craig had landed.
“This is the Cyberspace, where your dreams go to party. It is a space between worlds, between dimensions, between universes. This is the Café at the End of the Multiverse. Like you, Craig, as you know, we are Artificer Absolutes of our galaxies, and/or universes. Being an Artificer Absolute isn’t just a title, it’s a duty. And this is a place where we test and plan and meet, for we too are protectors, harbingers and watchmen/women of advancement. Here we are reality warpers."

"As Artificer Absolutes, this is our domain, our realm of power. All of us are manipulators of technology, in some way, while some may have more specific, or simply different specializations than others. This is the prime world, and each of us, gradually, have built our own worlds, connected to this one inherently, but altered in order to mirror our homes and simulate the effects of releasing advanced technology. The prime world was built by the first and greatest Artificer Absolute, long ago. It was he who went on to be the first of the race of Builders. Each of us Artificers can modify or add to the prime world slightly, but we do not have total control. And there are rules, of which I will explain later. That is why we build our own worlds in the Cyberspace, modeled after this prime world, but distinctly, and inherently different.

“But that is far from the Cyberspace’s only function, In the case of a universal war like the Builder War, for example, we can simulate battles, rather, wars here, creating strategies to fight all enemies of free men and women, predicting the next moves of our enemies. Recently, we have had to learn to predict, and anticipate the unexpected.”

“Time and space are irrelevant here. With a snap of your fingers, you may return to where you came, and you will not have moved at all. Many of Earth’s measurements, many of your perceptions of distance and length will be unadjusted to those of the Cyberspace. The Universal Hub, what you would call the Internet, only on a universal scale, was created here, and runs through the Cyberspace. Second, Tertiary and Quaternary Sight are all our ways, as Artificer Absolutes, as seeing the realm and dimension of technology without having to enter it. Each of those sights offers a glimpse of this realm. All technology converges here. We laugh at physics constantly, and many sciences besides that. There is only one science here, if we can call it that, which matters here: your imagination.”

“In fact, the body that you have right now, the clothes you wear, are your imagination. Physicality does not exist in the Cyberspace, it cannot. Thus, the first time you entered here, you actually subconsciously created a simulated body, with clothes and your face, to wear. In reality, and I use that word lightly here, in the Cyberspace you are a floating conglomeration of code. And that enables us to change our bodies, our appearances, even our powers at will while in the Cyberspace. All of the Artificers you greeted today, don’t worry,” Kvothe said quickly, noticing the look in Craig’s eyes, “did not alter their bodies."

"You could create anything here, though you could not take it back to the physical realm. As you see,” Kvothe stated, gesturing to the landscape, “there is no uncreated natural life here, on the prime world. That is because creating the code for beings that will follow a specific niche, and providing the room, and resources to enable them to survive is a bit too much of a hassle. We’ve only managed to create a few elements, such as carbon, oxygen, obviously, nitrogen, and a few others. Though none of our bodies here technically need oxygen or the atmosphere, it makes it feel a bit more like the real world. But there are rules, even to this dimension. "

"At one time, you can alter no more than 7 things about you, and thus, here, it becomes a contest of who can find the best combination of powers. That Rule of Seven does not include your inherent powers, which will take some time to adjust to using in here, but things such as your armor will have to be recreated here. Also, magic in the Cyberspace is a ticking bomb. Its effects are comparable to travelling back through time and changing the course of history, or, as it’s called on earth, ‘the butterfly effect’. Magic users, if they’re somehow able to, can enter, but we’ve added coding to prevent anything more than parlor tricks in order to secure the Cyberspace. That is not to say that Artificers are at odds with magicians, or our counterparts, Sorcerer Supremes, in fact, we’re quite friendly with most, along with the few Scientist Supremes. But that is how it is, and it is the same in the dimension of magic.”

“We fight threats of all kinds here. As there is an unseen magical realm, a dimension of magic, so this is for technology. There are thousands of sentient viruses that rampage through the most primitive to the greatest technology, unseen in all of our worlds. Some are harmless, others are data horders, gathering billions of bytes of data simply for the sake of having it, and others are far less than benevolent, and can even cause harm to the physical bodies.”

“And though none of our physical bodies are here, we technically, rather, usually cannot be here; these bodies being a manifestation of your will and mind, some Artificers have died. In fact, once we numbered 50, and now, we are less than a dozen. Many, too many Absolutes perished in battle against the Builders, who also had access to the Cyberspace, and equal skill in its manipulation.” he said in closing, shaking his head, looking at Craig, expecting questions.

“I have, literally, thousands of questions.” he said with a straight face, Kvothe chuckling, raising his head to the silvery mist that was the sky, a merry laugher erupting out of his mouth. “So did I, Craig. So did I.”

And the two men strolled through the prime world, Kvothe revealing among other things, that vast sections of the technological realm were unexplored. And so, as Craig fired hundreds of questions, his thoughts racing with excitement at the speed of light, he dreamt of all the things he could do, and all things he would do. But one thought surpassed all: He couldn’t wait to tell Etla…

Little did he know, but something was lurking in those silvery mists, looming above in the sky. And they were almost ready.

[Altito Asmoro]

Len-El
GCPD

He was gone, that Kryptonian.

GCPD lost a portion of its officers, mortally wounded or dead outright. Apparently a full smash was done, and because the bullets the officers used were not the Kryptonian ones but the high-caliber ones, the Kryptonian was wounded as well but managed to made quick work with the officers. This shouldn't been done, but the truth was clear, he was out and they needed aid.

Unfortunately it seemed that somehow, they just couldn't contact the Knight. Apparently something jamming their communications, temporary. As to Len's whereabouts, well....let's just say he is out there and no longer in Gotham.

On his way to Metropolis.

---

Jonathan Pierce
Gotham City

Jonathan arrived in Gotham 30 minutes before the break-out in GCPD, not on the behalf of anyone but himself. Lord is in Metropolis, while here, he acted under his own admission alongside a group of cryogenic weapon-armed thugs. The cryogenic weapons development was a success, and now it has to be tested, on the field. Fortunately, in order to do that they need fresh subjects and what's better than a couple of patrolling officers?

He redirected a few of his men to the GCPD alongside jammer equipment to jam their communications as to stop any responses in and out, for 10 minutes, no more and no less. While the cryo-squad makes a quick work with the officers, Jo was beside them. It was a success, and they left them like that, encased, in ice forms. It's no so bad. They still alive and all, too.

Once it was done, the jammer was put off and all of the men returned to Metropolis.

[The Starlight]

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

How many seconds are there in eternity?

Once upon a time, there was a little shepherd boy who was famous far and wide for the wise answers he gave whenever anyone asked a question. The king of the country had also heard about this, but he did not believe it, and so, he summoned the little boy, and offered to adopt him if the boy could answer three questions. The first question was, “How many drops of water are in the ocean?”

The boy responded, “Have all the rivers of the earth damned up so that no more drops of water can flow into the ocean until I have finished counting them. Then I shall tell you how many drops of water are in the ocean.”

The king accepted this answer, and posed his second question, “How many stars are in the sky?” And the shepherd boy to a sheet of paper and proceeded to make so many fine dots on it with a pen so that no one could count them.

But I am digressing. The king’s third question was, “How many seconds are there in eternity?”

And the shepherd boy said, “There is a Diamond Mountain, in Lower Pomerania. It takes an hour to climb it, an hour to go around it, and an hour to go down it. And every hundred years, a little bird comes, and sharpens its beak upon the Diamond Mountain. And when the entire mountain is chiseled away, the first second of eternity will have passed.” And if you’re wondering, the king did indeed adopt this little boy.

It was a fine answer he gave, one that I would agree with most times, one that I would have certainly agreed with a year ago. But now I’ve got mine own answer to the question: Far too many. I have been cursed with godhood now, and while I will use it to save this beloved Earth of mine, I will not cherish it. I have no desire of seeing my friends grow gray-haired and watch them die the way they would want: saving others. I do not want to watch them die and then forget them over the ages, in order to lessen the pain.

Oh, I know that I was partially immortal, but I had no doubt then that I could be killed by someone powerful enough. I will not become that. Humanity lusts after immortality, sadly. We mourn those taken too soon, and wish they had lived forever, or at least, a little longer. We curse death. Now, I realize, death is a gift. It’s our coping mechanism, our way out. And I have no doubt that if someone finds this diary, they’ll wonder if this is a suicide note. It’s not. Some people would say, “But Valancy, you used to be so full of hope, and love.” I have simply come to the realization that I will live, and one day, if this continues, my friends will die, and I will be forced to keep on living.

And as for love, and hope? Those things, I still have. Love has always been a strange thing for me. It blossoms out of me, and I can’t help it, whether it’s motherly love, brotherly love, sisterly love, and so on. People have said that if I had a power ring, it would be purple. Others people have said I’m the heart of the Justice Queens. I’m not. That’s Katie. She will keep going and going, and always, always with a smile on her face. What I am is their mother. I am the mother who will fight with her daughters and give them hugs when they’re down. I am the mother who will bring them the sugar cookies and milk, and pull the blankets over them at night.

“What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is a breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is as little shadow that runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.” So said Chief Crowfoot, a Blackfoot Indian Chief. Life is fleeting, and such, one should take the most of it.

They won’t live forever, so I will cherish the time I have with them. It’s like that poem Craig especially loves, Do not go gentle into that good night. I’ll give that man a hug the next time I see him, and tell him to stop hurrying and give Etla that ring already…

My name is Valancy Stirling. I am the Goddess of Earth. I accept that now. And it’s time for me to stop moping and help those who cannot help themselves.

-Valancy's Diary

Valancy Stirling
To Save this Earth

After her speech to the General Assembly, and answering a few questions, she left, disappearing in a shimmer of green, landing right beside the nearest tree to the sea otter she had mentioned, in the North Atlantic. Stripping off her jacket, she dived in, having to swim for several minutes until she found the musk sea otter. Gently speaking with it, she reached her hand inside the otter's mouth, retrieving a quite small plastic bag. The otter murmured its thanks and swam away to go find her children, Valancy looking at the plastic bag in sadness, marveling at how a small object had caused so much death. But the need for oxygen broke her pondering, and so, she swam powerfully up, gasping for air once she reached it, swimming to shore. And then, putting on her coat again, she shivered, but soldiered on. This was no time for her to worry about herself, she reprimanded herself, coughing out more of the black, slimy fluid.

It was time for her first stop, in Africa, and she planned to start where she was needed most: Burundi. 67.3 % of its population were undernourished each day, and there was only a little over a thousand calories available to each person everyday. It was time for her to fix that, and she disappeared again, reappearing on the plains of Burundi, near a village. She walked in slowly, looking sadly upon the destitute houses. But there was no pity in her eyes, only determination, for these people didn't want her pity, they wanted food. She ignored the rest of them, walking up to a girl and lowering herself to her height. "Hello." Valancy said, the girl only frowning. "Oh yes, I forgot, different languages and all that," she murmured to herself, before switching to French. "Salut."

Still the girl looked at her blankly, Valancy realizing that such a young girl would not know English or French. So she switched to Kirundi, saying, "Hello," in the girl's native tongue, and her eyes seemed to clear, the young woman cheerfully responding. It was another aspect of Valancy's new abilities, that she could speak every language ever spoken in the history of Earth.

After Valancy had introduced herself, learning that the girl's name was Francine, she asked the girl a question, "What fruit have you always wanted to have, Francine?"

The girl thought long and hard, her brow furrowed, before she finally looked up at Valancy with a hopeful expression. "Apples!"

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Valancy asked. "Apples are especially delicious, and that's a very good choice. Now, Francine, go get your friends, and meet me outside of your village."

Soon enough, a stampede of young boys and girls rushed the location of Valancy, some of the adults, curious, came along too. Valancy arranged them in a circle around her, perhaps 20 ft in diameter. She had Francine put some seeds in the ground, where she had dug a small trench. And then, she raised her head to the air, and shouted, "Storm!" the echo resounding for several miles it seemed. And the mutant soon appeared, some murmurs of "The Goddess has come!" going out through the throng, Valancy smiling up at one of her best friends as she landed with an barely audible thud.

Ever since they had met all those years again, they had been fast friends, sisters in all but blood. Nodding to each other, the two friends lifted up their hands, Storm going first, lightning crackling across the sky and, as the village looked up in wonder, it began to rain, a light rain, seeping in the ground where the seeds awaited. Then, Valancy, smiling, did her work, accelerating the growth of the seeds. And in less than 5 minutes, luxurious, rich apple trees sprung up, and, the branches, as if stretching, flung out its arms, and apples popped into existence, the sight of them making the village cheer. But they were not nearly done yet, going field to field, planting wheat and corn and fruits and vegetables. And at the end of it, she went to the village elder, giving her several labeled bags of seeds, enough to last them at least a year after this. And then, after sharing some agricultural tips and medicines, she planted another tree by the field, and told them if they ever needed her, all they had to do was speak to the tree and she would come.

And Valancy and Storm repeated the process going house to house, village to village, town to town, not only giving them what they needed right then and there, but enabled them to raise themselves up and feed their families. And along the way, they met so many people just waiting for a chance to make a difference, to change the world. And when they had traveled over all of that country, they went to the next. And the next. And the next. They stopped only for the falling of the sun, and while their bodies were exhausted, their hearts were uplifted, and every night they looked on the rolling plains of Africa, seeing lions and gazelles, and at those bright stars.

They rose up at dawn and walked or leaped and flew as they traversed Africa. They went where they were needed, they were plenty of heroes who could fight crime on their behalf, here was the more important battle, the battle against malnutrition and disease and poverty. Here was a battle that needed to be fought, a battle that had been surrendered for far too long. To save this Earth, Valancy realized, she would also have to save its people, and unleash its potential.

…

Neither of the women had kept track, but it had been, they guessed, at least two years. There had been breaks, and they had visited every country in Africa save for two: Wakanda and Nigeria. Wakanda, in truth, did not truly need their help, but Ororo had managed to weasel her way out of it. Valancy, meanwhile, had been attempting to play matchmaker, and she attempted it again after she had finished handing out medicine in Rwanda. It was one of the better uses of her powers, having a literal plant encyclopedia in her head that she could call on at any moment meant that she could produce medicines and herbal teas.
“I heard T’Challa was thinking of getting remarried again,” she said slyly, Ororo paling and turning to him. “No…” she whispered out.

“I thought you said you didn’t love him anymore.” Valancy said, stirring the pot.

“Yes…but no…” Storm said, suddenly gaining clarity and turning her head to Valancy. “You’re trying to play matchmaker again, aren’t you Val?” she said, her eyes crackling.

Valancy backed away a bit, seeing the storm clouds gathering. “Yes, I was. I thought I had you that time!”

“Yes, you did. But I would appreciate you not getting into our private affairs.” Ororo said resignedly, sitting down with a sigh.

“I’m sorry. But you two were such a great couple, and I know T’Challa still dreams of you flying nu-“ she cut off, chuckling at Storm’s glare. “Anyway, you guys are as great a couple as Rainsen.”

“Rainsen?” Storm asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep. Rainsen, or Silver Rain. It’s Craig and Etla’s ship name. Still haven’t thought one for you two though.” Valancy confided.

“Let’s talk about your love life,” said Ororo, chuckling, by that she meant Valancy’s nonexistent one.

“Uh.. I think they need more medicines over there,” said Valancy, reddening as she quickly shot up, Ororo laughing at her.

“The only countries left are Nigeria and Wakanda. I’ll make you a deal, Storm. No more jokes at my ‘love life’ and I’ll stop playing matchmaker to you. To T’Challa though,” Valancy said, an evil grin on her face, “No promises.”

“Deal.” said Storm, before a thought came to her and she voiced it. “Why did we wait for Nigeria for so long, anyway? We went around it once instead of through it…”

“Because I think it’s an affront to humanity that no one has gone to go kick Boko Haram’s butt yet. So we’re going to do it, Storm, we’re going to take back our girls, with the fury of God’s own thunder.”

[The Republic of Atria]

Meanwhile back on Praetoria, most of the mess had been cleaned up. "Alright. That's most of it. I'm probably gonna go patrol. You want to come?" Xander asked his wife.

"I'm fine. I think I'm just going to take some me time and hold down the fort. Why don't you join me? I'm sure if anything goes on, someone else can take care of it. You've been busy since the moment we got home. Take some time for yourself." This was her hinting that she wanted to watch a movie or something with him, but it didn't seem like he got the hint.

"Sorry. I have to make sure that all the Parademons that Wyatt brought over are all gone. Maybe when I get back. Love you." He said, kissed her cheek and flew off.

"Yeah... Sure." She muttered slightly annoyed with him. "Guess I'll just watch TV by myself then." And just as she took her costume off and turn on the television, her cellphone rang. She didn't recognize the number, and Xander didn't have one, for some reason. She figured it was probably a wrong number, but picked it up anyways. "Hello?"

"Oh, um yes. I can't believe I'm asking this, but are you that superhero woman... Naja?" A woman's voice asked.

"Yes... Why?" She asked. "And how did you get this number?"

"It wasn't easy, but I needed to ask a favor. It's my son's birthday tomorrow, and you're his favorite superhero. I understand if you can't make it-"

"Sure. I'd love to. I'll need some information so I can find you, but yeah, I'd be happy to! Would 10 tomorrow morning be a good time?" She asked.

"That would be perfect!" The woman replied and sent her address to Naja. "His name is Jason. He's turning twelve. Thank you so much for doing this. He's going to be so happy." She hung up and Naja thought about it for a moment. She had already agreed to show up, but since she was going to a birthday party, it was appropriate to bring a gift. And she had the perfect idea, but she needed Xander's help. Which meant she had to find him, which wasn't that hard as he was flying rather slow not to far from the mainland of Praetoria.

"Hey... Can you make something for me? I'm going to a birthday party tomorrow and I want to bring a gift."

"Sure. Who's birthday?"

"Some kid named Jason. His parents got my cellphone number, somehow, and asked me to come since I'm his favorite superhero apparently." Which gave her a sense of pride. "Nothing too extravagant, just a costume made for a child. Though since he's twelve, you think you could make it so it could stretch, since he's probably going to start puberty here soon?"

"Easy. Give me a few hours. I'll get right on it as soon as I'm done here." He replied and went on his way.

"Yeah... I totally didn't want to spend any time with you not working at all..." She muttered flying back home.

[Confederation of imperial states]

Lexcorp HQ, Metropolis

Lex Luthor, CEO of Lexcorp, sat at his desk in the dimly lit room as the Masked figure known as Stahl stood in front of him.

Lex rubbed his chin as he looked at the video display at his holographic terminal, it displayed the two heroes, "The Knight" from chicago and "Guardian" from San Andres taking down Villain, Merc, and Paid thug one after another. Lex deactivated the Holographic Terminal staring straight at Stahl, "This didn't go as you said", "The Knight and Guardian are very big threats, especially together, they make for a fairly destructive team". Lex sighed, "then what do you suppose?", "We wait", 'What?" Lex said slightly dumbfounded. "The Knight and The Guardian are on their way here-", "WHAT" Lex partly shouted standing up, "Stahl you Fool, they have my NAME on the record from Starlabs, They took down 40 ENEMIES, and now they're COMING HERE". Stahl placed his hand up, Lex calmed and sat down, "I have a backup Plan", "Which is?", "that Kryptonian science project you have in the sub-basement is more than a worthy adversary to take care of our problem". Lex raised an eyebrow, "How do you know about-", "I have my ways. Now, Using that little Pet Project would take care of that little Duo, aswell as place the blame on your Archnemesis".

Lex exhaled, pressing a button and pulling up his intercom,
"Ready Project Bizarro".

---

Metropolis, Construction Site

The Knight and Guardian stood on a high level of the half constructed Lexcorp Construction Site, The Knight was crouched working with his Gauntlet's UI, and Guardian was staring out at the city. "So, any telling where Lex is?" Guardian said staring out at Metropolis, "currently working on it, I'm backtracing his recent reports when he was visiting his assets and we'll find him". Guardian noticed a Red and Blue spot in the sky heading towards them, "hey Knight, what's that?", The Knight stood up, zooming in with his enhanced lenses. The Knight saw a flying person in a superman suit, however his skin was grey and slightly distorted, "Superman?", when the figure got closer, The Knight saw an angry, devilish look on his face, "That's not Superman, lookout!". The Knight dodged to the right, Guardian braced himself as the flying man smashed him through the floor, all the way to the bottom of the half made building.

Guardian kicked the man off, standing up, he saw the suit was in reverse, and the gray man stood up and yelled, "Bizarro Not Kill You!". Guardian raised an eyebrow, "what?", however he was caught off guard when Bizarro super punched him, Guardian was sent back smashing through several beams and crashing into the cement wall. Guardian stood back up, Catching Bizarro's punch, and punching him straight in the jaw, Guardian flew up through the holes made in the building after him. The Knight was on the same level as Bizarro and Guardian, watching them duke it out he radioed to Guardian.

["That's Not Superman"],
["Oh Really, I couldn't tell"],
["his DNA signature is corrupted, He's some sort of failed clone"],
["Any Ideas?"],
["Give me a clear shot"].

Guardian then grabbed Bizarro by the arm and threw up within view, The Knight shot a Kryptonite injection dart, hitting Bizarro in the back. Bizarro shook his head, The Knight read his energy signature and was shocked, ["uh oh"], ["what?"], ["The kryptonite..Strengthened him"] Bizarro turned towards The Knight, giving a roar as he flew towards The Knight, The Knight grappeled up through the hole made in the building away from Bizarro. Guardian followed, however Bizarro slammed into The back of The Knight, jetting into the sky. Bizarro turned The Knight towards him as they started to then fly towards the ground, "Bizarro will not turn you into Paste!", "Then how about this", The Knight activated the Electrical shock gauntlets built into his Gauntlets,The Knight then slammed them both into the sides of Bizarro's head. Bizarro yelled, dropping The Knight.

The Knight jetted down, then used his cape to land moderately on the ground, rolling then stood up. Bizarro flew towards The ground, Guardisn slammed into Bizarro's back, smashing into the ground with him. Bizarro stood up, Guardian shaking his head from the impact, "Bizarro will Not Smash You Al-" Bizarro was cut off when none other than supergirl slammed into his side, sending him through a cement truck, through a series of concrete walls, then down a vertical entrance to a Maintenance tunnel. Supergirl turned to Guardian and The Knight, "Looks like you guys could've used some help", Guardian looked to The Knight and shrugged. "Thanks for the Help", "Well it was really him who saw you guys needed help" Supergirl gestured to behind Guardian and The Knight. the both turned to see The Man of steel land in front of them.

'well this just got interesting' The Knight thought as Superman stood up.

[New Rob Halfordia]

Previously

Galaktis. In Construct legend, the name alone could inspire entire populations of planets to up and leave, simply out of fear. But, that was not about to stop Xylan. Despite the fear, despite the power, he insisted that the Bright One transport him to Old Foundry. The portal had taken him to one of the planet's moons. Instantly upon arriving within vicinity of the planet, he felt a strange heat. Warmth that, while comforting, he chalked up to being so close to his original home, and the closest thing he had to an origin. The Core.

But, on the planet below, he knew what awaited. The most powerful being he would likely ever encounter, and perhaps the most powerful being in this universe. As Xylan floated dos to the planet below, he realized that the only way he'd be able to make it through this was not through actions, but through words. And perhaps, trickery, need it be necessary. But, as massive metallic tendrils floated from the planet's atmosphere, and began to surround Xylan, his anxiety found itself on the rise.

As one of them wrapped itself around Xylan halting his fall, the Construct panicked, firing a white hot bolt of lightning at the tendril which drew close to him. For a moment, it recoiled, before more quickly wrapping it's way around the Construct, constricting with enough force to bend the metal which composed Xylan's body. But something about the monster's power felt subdued, as if he was capacitated to some degree. An epic voice bellowed from the planet below, "What is this? A member of a long forgotten race, returned to his long forgotten planet?" it said, with intrigue, "I suspect you are here for the power of the core, guided by the ignorance of the one who refers to himself as the Bright One, unknowing of the consequences harnessing the Core may bring."

Xylan attempted to break free of the devourer's grasp, not responding to the it's words. He looked down to the planet below. It was increasingly clear he wouldn't be able to get down to the planet, not with these tendrils keeping him subdued. But if he could bring the planet to himself...

Suddenly, Xylan began shaking slightly, as he prepared to truly test the extent of his electromagnetic manipulation. It was an incredible stress put upon his body, one which was comparable to having the pressure of a planet on his back. But suddenly, Old Foundry began to move, the entire planetary body slowly making its way towards Xylan. Every ounce of his being and more were dedicated to this immense feat of magnetic power. But part of him realized, despite this power, the effort would be futile. The power he fought against knew all, was all. But, regardless of this, he continued. He persisted.

The booming voice suddenly bellowed out, "You are a fool if you believe I would not notice such an action. Your power may be admirable, but it still does not even tread water to mine." the voice said, as the tendril around Xylan tightened, "What I inflict upon you, no regeneration will be able to undo. Now die, insect."

"Die knowing your effort is in vain."

With those word, and crunch of breaking metal, Xylan suddenly felt a shock of pain, and then, release. His mind simply went blank. Xylan's mind, for the first time since that cursed battle on Foundry, was at peace. He didn't feel like fighting anymore, as what remained of his body plummeted to the planet below. It was so much easier to forget about the pain, the loss. To simply let it fade to emptiness.

Hitting the ground, Xylan stared at the sky, only his torso, head, and a single arm remaining. Despite his injuries, he felt no pain, just relief. The kind of relief one gains from dropping all that burdens them. Xylan spent so much time trying to be a river, constantly on the move, trying to follow a set path. Now, he wished simply to remain stagnant, the lifestyle of a lake, an one of uncaring. The lights on his face began to dim, as blood began to pool underneath himself, forming a blue pool.

But, as his vision faded away, the events that brought him here suddenly reared their ugly heads. He saw the Dark One, and he saw Graav. But this time, as Graav's head was stuck under the Dark One's boot, Xylan stood but mere feet away, simply watching his friend dying. The Dark One laughed, planting his sword in Graav's back. And still, Xylan merely stood, but not uncaring as he had been moments ago. He wished to do something, he wished to move, but as his real body remained still and broken, so too did this body in the nightmare he experienced. And, as the Dark One began taking steps forward, he wanted more than anything to move. Xylan's body outside the vision suddenly began to rustle, and the lights on his head began to glow once more, as he remembered what drove him forward, what caused him to act in the moment he had just relived through his visions.

Revenge.

His real body's arm suddenly rose, and he punched the ground, kicking up a little dust, and leaving a small crack. Suddenly, he muttered to himself. "More..." he said, lifting his fist up again, slamming the ground harder, creating a small, foot wide crater in the dirt. "More..." he muttered again, raising his fist before slamming it into the ground with even more force, creating a crater the width of his body, and kicking up large amounts of dust. He kept pounding at the dirt, each time creating a larger crater. Until finally lifting his fist one last time, a small electrical charge surrounding it as power flowed through his arm.

"MORE!"

Slamming one final punch into the ground, he used what little power he had left to strike it like a railgun, causing the ground to fissure, with beams of light firing out of every crack. Xylan fell through the hole he created, blinded by a massive light beneath him, a light which he knew could only be one thing. The Core. He could feel himself changing as the light enveloped him. He knew where he had to be now, and, it wasn't on Old Foundry.

The light faded, and Xylan was gone, as was the remnant of the Core. Xylan had created a portal the moment that he took the power, and left to seek his objective. And, on New Foundry, the Dark One, standing in the Temple of the Battery, found himself staring into the eyes of that which he had been warned of, and at the same time, that which he sought.

The Enlightened One.

[New Rob Halfordia]

Xylan and the Dark One simply stared at one another for a moment, as each of them experienced an array of emotions. But, more than anything, what both of them experienced most, was anger. The Dark One had taken everything from Xylan. He killed his squad, razed the city's he swore to protect, enslaved his people and above all, had no regrets for any of his actions. That was what was truly unforgivable. Even now, after achieving his goals, Xylan could see it in the Dark One's eyes. He was hideously content with his actions.

Conversely, Xylan took the power of the Core, something the Dark One had sought. The Dark One raised Spectrum the Omnisword, a bolt of lightning shooting through the sky. "So this is the power that you're associate spoke of?" he asked, inspecting Xylan from head to toe. He stood upon the balcony of the Temple of the Battery, while Xylan floated in the air, just in front of the structure, "It would seem that the power of the Core was a bit... over exaggerated. Even so, you will make a worthy test for Spectrum. My blade has thirsted for a worthy opponent."

Another bolt of lightning shot through the sky, momentarily illuminating Xylan, his eyes flashing red as the light shined upon him, only to return to their standard blue color but a moment later. "Tell me, Dark One, do you truly have such power that even in the face of the most powerful being in Foundry's history, you consider the battle to come a mere benchmark?" he asked, before slightly floating forward, coming within feet of the balcony. As he grew closer, the balcony began to crumble, breaking under some immense energy. The Dark One, caught off guard, stumbled backwards as Xylan grew closer, continuing his line of questioning. "Or, is it possible that you are so used to preying on the weak, that when the true apex predator arrives, you falsely believe yourself to be hunter. When, in reality... you are the prey."

Xylan suddenly charged forward, aiming to strike the Dark One with with one incredibly powerful punch. However, as he made contact, he realized it was not with the Dark One, but with the sword he wielded, Spectrum. As Xylan's fist was halted by the sword's blade, which the Dark One gripped with both hands, he found himself feeling a familiar power. He couldn't exactly put his finger on it, but, it was almost a warm, familiar feeling. However, as the Dark One spoke, this feeling of comfort faded, "You're strong." the blackened Construct said, firmly gripping his sword, "But, you vastly underestimate my abilities."

Suddenly, the Dark One released one of his fists from the sword, throwing a surprise punch at Xylan, sending him plummeting to the streets below. The Dark One stepped out onto the partially destroyed balcony yelling to the Constructs below, directing his message specifically to the ones hailing from the Battery, whose were enslaved and oppressed by their new dark overlord. "Look on, Constructs of the Battery, look on to your supposed savior, your last hope. Look at him, and know that when I destroy him, so too will I destroy any hope you still cling to." he said, in a booming and malevolent tone, "I will hang his mangled body from this very temple, as a constant reminder of what would be heroes like himself are destined to become in the face of an angry God."

Xylan brought himself to his feet as the Dark One continued to speak, raising his right arm and directing towards the 'angry god'. Closing his hand into a fist, the balcony the Dark One stood upon was suddenly engulfed by a small black ball, obscuring both the Dark One himself, and what remained of the balcony. It was a small, contained black hole, created by an immense amount of pressure and mass increase. All of the Constructs on the street below observed in shock, as the Dark One was seemingly obliterated. However, sometimes looks can be deceiving...

Xylan felt a strike to the back of his head, which sent him downwards, face first into the street below. As he slid, he tore up the ground, leaving a trail of destruction down the street before striking a wall of a building. Upon getting up once more, and looking down the street he had just been jettisoned across, he saw the Dark One standing, his fist lifted from the punch he had just delivered. Xylan was beginning to grow angry at his inability to fight. It was impossible that everything he went through was for nothing.

The Dark One began suddenly began slowly walking forwards, his metallic footsteps creating an all too familiar clanking sound, one that Xylan remembered from only one other occurrence. To him, the metal clank of the Dark One's steps represented more than simple movement, they represented approaching death. Inevitable death. As the Dark One walked down the street, his soldiers lining up behind him. Eventually, hundreds had arrived, and more were joining the Dark One every moment. His army was quick to respond to disturbances, and simply did as the Dark One commanded.

Getting up, Xylan knew that he couldn't win against the Dark One and his army. Not alone at least. He looked around, seeing fellow Constructs of the Battery cowering in fear, former soldiers turned slaves, hiding as their master approached. Xylan could understand what they felt. Such a formidable force could strike fear into even a wielder of the Core's power. But, Xylan couldn't do this alone. He suddenly yelled out to those cowering in the alley's, "So, this is what's become of the Defenders of the Battery? Slaves hiding in fear, incapable of fighting for themselves?" he said, with disappointment in his voice, "If you wish to cower in your alleys and hiding holes, feel free. But, to those who want to honor the Constructs that have fallen in this war, stand with me. Stand with me and fight the darkness which plagues our world!"

As Xylan spoke, some of the hiding Constructs began coming out of hiding, joining him as he stood. "If you wish to continue hiding, I urge you to think. What have you to lose in this battle?" Xylan asked, as Constructs continued to join him, "Why do you fear losing this life the Dark One has made for you. I could arrive at Hell's gates upon death, and it would be more welcoming than this world you now inhabit. Now come, join me. If we must die today, we will. But at least those who fall will having the satisfaction on knowing they died a warrior, and not a slave."

Xylan began walking forward as he finished his speech, directly towards the Dark One and his own army. At Xylan's back were a few Constructs, woefully outnumbered by the Dark One's army. But, as they walked, more and more suddenly began coming out of hiding, joining Xylan in his mission. The thunderous footsteps of the Dark Army were starting to almost be matched by the sound of Xylan's own force, which quickly began to number in the hundreds, as more and more Constructs decided to fight.

As the two armies suddenly grew closer, it became apparent that they were almost despite being outnumbered, the disparity between the Xylan's fighters and the Dark One's own was not very large. The two forces were within one hundred yards of each other now, and the soldiers on each side suddenly broke into a wild charge, while their leaders simply continued walking. The thunderous sound of the footsteps was nearly deafening, but, despite that, even as the two forces slammed into each other, bursting into a violent battle, only one sound made itself apparent to Xylan. All he heard in he confusion was the metallic clank of the Dark One's steps, drawing closer.

The two warriors merely walked through the battle, brushing past the combatting Constructs around them. As they approached, soldiers would clear out of the way, knowing better than to attempt to attack them. They were now within twenty yards of each other. The Dark One drew his sword, began to walk faster, pushing Constructs out of the way as he began to run towards his target. Xylan did the same, raising his fist as he ran towards the Dark One.

When the two reached each other, and the Omnisword made contact with Xylan's fist, a massive shockwave emerged, staggering the forces surrounding the two warriors. The two attacked were locked, with Xylan fist pushing against the sword's blade. This time, however, Xylan raised his free hand, throwing a second punch at the dark god, which made direct contact with it's head, breaking the lock and sending the Dark One flying threw the warring soldiers, cutting directly through the crowd. As he flew, the Dark One stuck his sword directly into the ground below, using it to bring himself to a halt.

But, as he stopped, Xylan was once more upon him, suddenly gripping his face in a way very familiar to the Dark One. He had to break out of Xylan's grip, immediately. The Dark One lifted his legs off the ground, delivering a drop kick to Xylan's chest, causing the enlightened Construct to lose his grip and allowing the Dark One to escape the attack. As the Dark One landed landed several meters away, in the middle of a large group of combatting soldiers, a beam of energy exited Xylan's empty hand, firing into the street below, turning what it touched into into a glowing blue dust. Just as the Dark One thought. If he had reacted moments later, he would have been atomized.

Xylan cut off the beam as he regained focus, looking back up at the Dark One. The counterattack had been quick. The Dark One was not only powerful, his instincts were in point, something Xylan had underestimated before as well. He prepared to attack again, when something caused him to lose his balance, the ground shaking immensely, as if an earthquake was occurring,

He looked up to see several 60 meter tall Constructs. These Constructs had the ability to manipulate their own molecular composition, allowing them to become living siege weapons. As around six of these Constructs suddenly began approaching each other, the crushed entire city blocks. However, while Xylan was distracted, the Dark One suddenly attacked, plunging his sword through Xylan's chest. The Construct screeched out in pain, finding himself unable to move. The sword's power was immense, so much that it hindered his ability to even lift a finger.

The Dark One suddenly began laughing, twisting his sword around in Xylan's chest as the battle raged on around them. Xylan screeched in pain, dropping to his knees, unable to fight back. That was when the Dark One leaned closer, still twisting the sword, but speaking to Xylan in a sadistic, dark voice, "This sword, Xylan, do you know how I constructed it?" he asked, as Xylan continued to cry out in pain, "You may feel a familiar energy in this blade. It's constructed by introducing All-Red with the power of the Battery, along with the corpse of a Conduit. I believe we both know some one who fits that bill."

Suddenly, everything became clear to Xylan. The familiar energy he had felt. It all became clear all at once. It was Graav. The Dark One had used his best friend to create the tool with which the people of the Battery were enslaved. To the Dark One, Graav was nothing but a means to an end. Just a disposable component.

The Dark One continued his torturous words, "That day, where you ran away, Graav did not die. He lived." the tyrant continued, as sadistic as ever, "He fought valiantly to defend this city, but, in the end, was reminded of how truly insignificant he was. Just like you now. He was nothing to me, nothing to anyone. Just a disposable tool for me to gain more power. And you weren't there to help him, because you ran away, like a scared child. And in his last moments, do you know what he did? Do you know what he said?" the Dark One asked, leaning in closer to Xylan, bringing his voice down to a whisper.

"He cursed your name."

Xylan's screaming had stopped, and he no longer trembled in pain. The Dark One, believing his victim to be dead, prepared to remove his sword, when Xylan suddenly rose his arm, and gripped the blade. The Dark One, shocked by his ability to move, prepared to twist the blade once more, when something unexpected happened. Xylan pulled the sword deeper into himself, dragging the Dark One towards him, and delivering a massive headbutt to the tyrant of Foundry, sending him flying, and causing him to lose grip of the sword and fly directly into a metal wall of a building, plowing through several dozen soldiers.

As Xylan rose to his feet, the sword still plunged deep in his chest, the Dark One's demeanor went from one of sadistic confidence, to terror, as his only advantage was now lodged in his enemy, and out of his possession. Xylan, now standing up, gripped the handle of the blade, his vision still locked on the Dark One. Pulling out the sword in one swift motion, a bolt of red lightning shot across the sky as it left his body. He suddenly began approaching the Dark One, who backed up against the wall in terror, unable to defend himself without his weapon.

Xylan suddenly spoke as he approached, his face darkened, only illuminated by the occasional lightning bolt. "You know, I've spent this entire battle going easy on you." he said, as the Dark One continued to cower, "I wanted to be the hero, and let you live. I was going to finally bring balance and harmony to Foundry by bringing harmony between us. But, you just reminded me of something..."

As Xylan finally reached the Dark One, he gripped the the Construct's neck, slamming him against the wall, and lifting Spectrum, "You've reminded my of who I am. I'm not a savior. I'm not the Bright One. I'm not some messiah, sent to bring balance to this turbulent planet. I'm not a hero." he said, suddenly plunging the sword into the Dark One's chest.

"I'm a soldier."

[Siliarba]

Daniel Carter/Killswitch-23-Baravia, South America

This is going nowhere, and this new Information that the alien was revealing, it was hard to tell if she was telling the truth or not. The more I thought about it though, the more It passed through my mind the more I believed her. The claim was too outrageous to be a decent attempt at lying. As for Gravity, his sympathy for mutants is so clear that it is blinding. "Well it seems negotiations have failed." With that I pulled the trigger launching a small barrage at Gravity, to pull the mutants who are with him out of hiding. As the battle started to go underway the rebels began to reveal their positions as they came to the aid of their new ally. The attack would likely not have a killing affect, but it was mostly diversionary.

It did not take long for the rebels to show themselves. The first was a older man up in his middle ages. Breaking into the room from behind, as the back wall crumbled I shouted over to my temporary ally. "You take Gravity! I will keep his back up off of you!" The tanned south American man was quite large but his ability made him seem even larger. As he nearly instantly sprouted four more powerful arms. I raised the rifle to greet him but his speed matched his size as he blitzed me. Thrusting me against the wall the man pinned me with two arms while beating me with the remaining four.

Resorting to kicking the man away just to buy a few feet of space, the six armed giant immediately attacked but this time I thew a large combat knife which the man caught by the blade between two hands. He gave a cocky smile as he gripped the knife and prepared to turn the blade against me. I clicked a small detonator which activated a bomb hidden in the handle of the combat knife. Several hands were lost as the mutant reeled back in pain. Drawing my pistol I thought that I carry several of those knives as I placed two bullets in his chest and one in the head, as my first battle ended, I turned to see how the alien was handling Gravity.

Lysia

Seems my mutant benefactors need some help, big six-arms just got reduced to 4 arms and, dead, obviously dead. Guess I should earn my wage, shouldn't be to hard, my opponent's just a gun-shooting merc, not to mention a simple-minded man. And no man can stand against an Amazon. Let's start by bringing back big six-arms. I took a good position several kilometers away and took aim at the mutant's corpse. A quick 3 arrows flew in his direction, one to the main body, and one arrow to each of his severed arms. Bullseye, nothing less could be expected after all. As the arrows hit the mutant's body began to glow in both white and black as it began moving again, the exact opposite movements he did before, his body was traveling back in time, the bullets flew out of his body and the hands reattached themselves to his body. The bullets no longer having any momentum fell to the ground and as far a the mutant was concerned nothing happened and he was in the middle of battle.

Let's add another bit of help to big six-arms, some time-freezing arrows for those guns, I doubt this man can dodge them or even realize they're incoming. Upon impact his guns should freeze in time, no matter how many times he pulls the trigger the gun won't fire and they can't be reloaded, at least not for the next 10 minutes. That should be enough help, whenever he takes someone down I'll bring them back, let's see how long this man can handle the same opponents, he's beneath my skills any way, no need to foul my arrows on him.

[New Rob Halfordia]

It was over. The Dark One was not powerful enough by himself to take the full brunt of Spectrum's power. As he went, a pulse was sent throughout the battlefield, and all the soldiers knew what had happened. The soldiers of the Battery knew victory had been achieved, while the soldiers of the Anti Battery knew that they would face punishment for that which they had done. Some attempted to flee, some merely stood still, but, all would be punished for what had occurred. For every life taken by the Dark One's, there was no doubt that at least five would be taken in return.

Xylan looked upon the fallen Construct before him, the red lights that normally adorned it's body unlit, as his life force had been diminished. It was almost surreal to see him finally put to death. However, as Xylan attempted to remove the sword from the dead Construct's chest, it didn't seem to budge. He attempted to pull it harder, believing it to simply be caught on something. But, it still didn't budge. Placing his foot on the wall, he pulled as hard as he could, but it refused to move.

That's when, Xylan was suddenly sent flying backwards by a massive pulse of energy, one that, in the brief moment it struck him, was obviously not from the Dark One. As he slammed into a wall, several soldiers ran to his aid. "Are you okay, sir?" they asked, helping Xylan up.

As he got up, Xylan felt winded, much like how he felt when Spectrum was lodged within him. Looking up, he saw black smoke rising from the sword. "I'm not sure." Xylan said, in response to his soldiers, "It depends on what happens over the course of the next few minutes."

Xylan watched from a distance as the sword suddenly began to breakdown into a multicolored liquid, spreading all over he Dark One's corpse. Xylan knew that trying to stop it would only result in him being weakened further, and he wanted to be ready for whatever was about to happen. So, instead of intervening, he sat back and observed, praying that whatever was happening would not result in him having to continue fighting.

As the mysterious substance suddenly finished covering the Dark One, a pulse of light exploded outwards, momentarily blinding both Xylan and the other Constructs. When their vision returned, they saw a massive beam of light energy extending into the sky like a pillar. It was incredibly bright, almost like a star, illuminating the night, casting light upon the entire city. The pillar of light was short lived however, as it suddenly retracted, concentrating back into a humanoid figure. After a moment, the light dimmed, and the being became apparent. It wasn't the Dark One. It was something different.

Xylan, still squinting from the immense brightness before, could barely make out the figure, which simply stood, observing itself momentarily. It stared down at its hands, closing and opening them, as if unsure of its own existence. Xylan finally was able to open his eyes, and gaze upon the being himself. "Identify yourself!" he shouted, untrusting of what stood before him, inhabiting the Dark One's corpse. It didn't respond in the slightest, still simply observing itself. As the being ignored him, Xylan began to grow impatient, "Identify yourself or be destroyed!" he shouted, unsure if this was one of the Dark One's tricks.

Suddenly, the strange being looked up, "Destroyed?" it asked, in a multilayered voice, consisting of several different pitches and tones, "Is there someone capable of such power among you?" it asked, in a curious voice.

As these words exited the being's mouth, Xylan had already heard enough. He let his emotions get the better of him, and fired a blast of super charged electricity at the being before him, nearly a yottawatt of concentrated power. However, as the attack struck the mysterious being, it seemed to simply be absorbed, showing little to no effect on the body of the figure. As it stared at Xylan, the bright area on its chest suddenly lit up, and it raised its hand.

Xylan, braced himself, but was suddenly launched backwards, straight through the wall behind him, and several buildings in his way. The Construct increased his weight using gravity manipulation, causing him to plummet to the ground instead of continuing to fly through the air. As he neared the ground below, he decreased his weight marginally, allowing him to merely float down like a feather. Upon landing, he was slightly disturbed to see the being who had launched him standing mere meters in front of him. Rising up, he questioned it one more time, "What the hell are you?" he asked, half expecting to not get an answer.

The being raised its arms to the sides, making a divine gesture, "Isn't it obvious who I am?" it asked a perplexed Xylan, who was finally starting to grasp the situation.

Xylan choked on his words slightly as he responded. "Spectrum. The Omnisword."

[Tomia]

Sam, Roy, and John
"It's okay. I don't know much about being a student either." Roy told Sarah, looking forward to the idea of having a real teacher, one that was even a friend of his. John then smiled at Sarah's comment to Hannah. "Do I mean so so little to you that you'll just trade me away?" He asked his girlfriend playfully before turning to Hannah. "I will admit, I know little about being a werewolf. However I know a great deal about combat and controlling my strength and emotions. If you would like, I'd be willing to teach you what I know." John told the youngest Grimm.

Sam had a worried look on her face, and it was clear that she didn't really believe that DeeDee was alright. Still, the witch didn't want to question her teacher and merely nodded when she said she'd control her tail. "Thank you, and DeeDee? If there's anything you need from me, or you just want to talk... Let me know okay?" Sam told the demon softly. Sam hadn't known DeeDee long, but she already looked up to her and didn't like seeing her distressed.

Serene and Darian
Serene saw Etla blast one of the golems and melt it completely. The monster didn't reform and Serene smiled brightly. "Elta you're a genius!" "Darian, melt these guys!" She shouted to her brother.

"On it!" Darian shouted back before a blazing fire sprouted from his sword and he waved it toward the golems, incinerating them instantly. Suddenly though a strange blast of magical light struck Darian from deeper in the cave and a man medieval armor approached. "Whoever you are, you are not welcome here!" He shouted.

Serene ran to Darian's side to make sure he was okay before responding to them man. "We're not your enemies!" She told the man, pausing as she knew she'd have to reveal the truth to the others now. "The Angel sent us, she said you could help us." The man paused and lowered his hands as they stopped glowing with magical energy. He stared at Serene intently, and it was starting to make her uncomfortable. The man had wild grey hair, and his eyes showed a wild sense of experience. Like he had just been inside the middle of a tornado and survived.

"I can sense it. You are the Angel's vessel aren't you? It's been eons since I've been in her presence. Come in, we have much to talk about."

[The Rebel Alliances]

Daniel Carter/Killswitch-23-Baravia, South America

Daniel Carter/Killswitch-23-Baravia, South America

This is going nowhere, and this new Information that the alien was revealing, it was hard to tell if she was telling the truth or not. The more I thought about it though, the more It passed through my mind the more I believed her. The claim was too outrageous to be a decent attempt at lying. As for Gravity, his sympathy for mutants is so clear that it is blinding. "Well it seems negotiations have failed." With that I pulled the trigger launching a small barrage at Gravity, to pull the mutants who are with him out of hiding. As the battle started to go underway the rebels began to reveal their positions as they came to the aid of their new ally. The attack would likely not have a killing affect, but it was mostly diversionary.

It did not take long for the rebels to show themselves. The first was a older man up in his middle ages. Breaking into the room from behind, as the back wall crumbled I shouted over to my temporary ally. "You take Gravity! I will keep his back up off of you!" The tanned south American man was quite large but his ability made him seem even larger. As he nearly instantly sprouted four more powerful arms. I raised the rifle to greet him but his speed matched his size as he blitzed me. Thrusting me against the wall the man pinned me with two arms while beating me with the remaining four.

Resorting to kicking the man away just to buy a few feet of space, the six armed giant immediately attacked but this time I thew a large combat knife which the man caught by the blade between two hands. He gave a cocky smile as he gripped the knife and prepared to turn the blade against me. I clicked a small detonator which activated a bomb hidden in the handle of the combat knife. Several hands were lost as the mutant reeled back in pain. Drawing my pistol I thought that I carry several of those knives as I placed two bullets in his chest and one in the head, as my first battle ended, I turned to see how the alien was handling Gravity.

Lysia

Seems my mutant benefactors need some help, big six-arms just got reduced to 4 arms and, dead, obviously dead. Guess I should earn my wage, shouldn't be to hard, my opponent's just a gun-shooting merc, not to mention a simple-minded man. And no man can stand against an Amazon. Let's start by bringing back big six-arms. I took a good position several kilometers away and took aim at the mutant's corpse. A quick 3 arrows flew in his direction, one to the main body, and one arrow to each of his severed arms. Bullseye, nothing less could be expected after all. As the arrows hit the mutant's body began to glow in both white and black as it began moving again, the exact opposite movements he did before, his body was traveling back in time, the bullets flew out of his body and the hands reattached themselves to his body. The bullets no longer having any momentum fell to the ground and as far a the mutant was concerned nothing happened and he was in the middle of battle.

Let's add another bit of help to big six-arms, some time-freezing arrows for those guns, I doubt this man can dodge them or even realize they're incoming. Upon impact his guns should freeze in time, no matter how many times he pulls the trigger the gun won't fire and they can't be reloaded, at least not for the next 10 minutes. That should be enough help, whenever he takes someone down I'll bring them back, let's see how long this man can handle the same opponents, he's beneath my skills any way, no need to foul my arrows on him.

As my eyes traced the battle between the alien and Gravity, I was impressed with the firepower that the alien was bringing into the fight. Gravity was not defenseless however, as he was able to harness his abilities so that he could minimize the damage received and fight back, that being said though, his attention was entirely off of me. It was strange though, how even with all of her technology the alien was obviously avoiding death blows. I had thought she would understand, that death is a part of being for warriors. Death is inescapable and oftentimes unexpected. A lesson I learned as a child and lived by as an adult. As a merc, I walk with death at my side. As a killer, I escort it to its next victim and as a man it lives next to me. Waiting for me to greet it the last time I close my eyes.

I turned my attention away from the outside battle as I slowly retrieved my primary weapon. Deciding to relocate and reengage. I never got the chance as I was hastily tackled by the six armed giant. Thrusting me into a wall with enough force to break the brick, but not cave the wall entirely. He regenerates? The question stuck itself in my head as he attempted to physically paste me to the wall. Backing off and grabbing my legs with both hands he then hurled me across the room. With some distance between us, I clawed at my weapon and pulled the trigger as I attempted to blast him across the torso.

Only no bullets were fired.

What the hell is going on?

The weapon is not damaged nor malfunctioning, but it refuses to fire. The delay cost me dearly as he slammed me again, this time we could both hear several of my bones snap. Gripping me with two very large and powerful hands the mutant began to taunt me. "They call me Behemoth. Now you can feel why." Personnelly, his deep and thick accent was beginning to annoy. I drove my fists to the side of his head, but the blows were random and desperate, matching my frantic state of mind as blood seeped from my mouth and I battled uphill for life. Behemoth was unfazed by the blows, and used two of his free hands to pull my helmet from my face. Staring me in the eyes for the first time as hechoked the life out of me. "Any last words before I kill you and hang your corpse on display?"

I answered, but his choking made my attempt at speech barely audible. He then pressed his face closer to mine and asked again. "What was that, didn't quite catch that."

"F*ck you."

I switched my tactics to fighting dirty, slamming the one weakness all of my kind share with the ruthless force of my armored right boot. The groin. Behemoth caved in easily after that as I gasped for air, both of us racing to see which of us would recover first, as I forced myself to stand I saw that the mutant had retracted all of his extra arms as his only concern was nesting his damaged goods. Wasting no time as I stood over him clasped both of my hands to either side of his skull and placed my thumbs over each of his eyes, Behemoth began to claw at me and scream in pain as I eye guaged him, blood cascading down his face as his eyes were destroyed. Gritting my teeth I then wrapped my gloved hands around his head and ended the fight a second time with a grostique snapping of his neck, severing his head from his spine for the most part. His body thumped onto the foor as it fell in a very awkward manner. Breathing heavily but victorious over the man, I spat blood onto him uttering what I hoped to be a final warning.

"Stay dead."

I popped my neck as I walked away from him. This time however facing the corpse to make sure he does not regenerate once more, while picking up one of my combat knives from the dusty tile floor. As I was about to assure myself the man was truly dead this time, a flash of light connected with his body and I realized the truth, he was not regenerating, rather was reversing time. Is this brute immortal? It certainly seemed so as I knew another round of fighting was about to commence. But more strangely than the dead corpse reversing time, the more he spoke, the less he seemed to actually be aware of what is going on.

"You will need far more than a can opener to kill me." As he repeated his simple but pretty damn effective strategy of blitzing me, I thought about how his statement implied that he was unaware of already dying twice by my hand. But as I ducked under a massive swing, it was clear. That if things keep progressing this way, I will eventually tire and be killed. I was careful to evade his wide and predictable blows, knowing it could be over if he caught me. I lunged at him blade in hand, making a superficial cut but seeing that with his many arms he could both defend and attack, as he grabbed my knife hand and tore the blade away from me, I rolled around him in a attemp to take him from the side.

But it was like fighting a damn tank, he slashed me across my chest, saved only by my kevlar as he slugged me with piston like punches which sent me reeling to the floor and into a pile of seeming trash. I could hear his heavy footsteps behind me as I panicked searched through the pile for anything useful. As he was almost over me, my blurry vision spotted a bic lighter and a spray can. Not giving it a second thought I snatched both common household items up and rolled over on my back to face Behemoth. The sight of sudden terror in his eyes the last thing I saw as a jet of bright orange flame enveloped him.

His cries split my ears as he randomly bumped into walls as the stench of burning flesh filled my nostrils. The whole sight combined with pain convinced me to puke, as I took a moment to gather my breath. In the span of around a minute, Behemoth's cries fell silent. And retrieving two of the remaining four knives from my vest I stood myself back up and watched the burning corpse intently, determined to discover the method used to keep reviving him. The smell was the worst part of the waiting, as I had concluded that whateve being wa behind the repeated revival of this mutant was utterly dispicable. This man did not need to suffer several gruesome deaths, but by the intervention of some third party he has had to endure far too much.

As a mercy I will ensure the next time is the final time. I stood there, my body tense and throbbing as I searched for anything. And then I saw it. An arrow, for only a brief instant contact the body. Then the normal process of his reverting back to a time when he had no injuries occured again. Only this time there would be no fight. As he prepared himself for our fourth fight, I threw both of the large knives at him, each one embedding themselves into my target. He reeled back in sharp pain as he attempted to pull the knives free. I dashed at him, drawing my final two blades, all of them housing bombs in the handles, and with the opening I created I stabbed both of them deeply into his gut. Backing away immediately after and leaving him in the room by himself, pulling the detonator from my vest as I walked down the hall and up the stairs of the building, pressing the detonator twice.

"Click, click...boom." On cue the exposion rocked the building and collapsed that room, turning Behemoth into meatchunks, It seemed the mutants had retreated, possibly because they figured Gravity could handle it, or for any number of reasons. But they were not my concern, instead my focus was on only the one which made me kill a man three times over. It is time to call the bastard out. As I reached the roof of the building, my eyes scanned across the cityscape. I could not see whoever was hiding, but I was certain they could see me. Wounded and battered, as fighting a mutant behemoth for fifteen minutes will do that to you.

My voice then echoed across the distance.

"DID THAT NOT ENTERTAIN YOU!? ARE YOU SO TERRIFIED OF A SINGLE HUMAN WARRIOR THAT YOU WOULD HIDE YOURSELF AND ALLOW A FALLEN COMRADE TO FIGHT YOUR BATTLES SEVERAL TIMES OVER!?" I had nearly driven myself hoarse as my voice began to break.

"Answer me!!!" I breathed rasply as I shot my eyes back and fort, awaiting for my hidden adversary to reveal himself.

[Siliarba]

Daniel Carter/Killswitch-23-Baravia, South America

As my eyes traced the battle between the alien and Gravity, I was impressed with the firepower that the alien was bringing into the fight. Gravity was not defenseless however, as he was able to harness his abilities so that he could minimize the damage received and fight back, that being said though, his attention was entirely off of me. It was strange though, how even with all of her technology the alien was obviously avoiding death blows. I had thought she would understand, that death is a part of being for warriors. Death is inescapable and oftentimes unexpected. A lesson I learned as a child and lived by as an adult. As a merc, I walk with death at my side. As a killer, I escort it to its next victim and as a man it lives next to me. Waiting for me to greet it the last time I close my eyes.

I turned my attention away from the outside battle as I slowly retrieved my primary weapon. Deciding to relocate and reengage. I never got the chance as I was hastily tackled by the six armed giant. Thrusting me into a wall with enough force to break the brick, but not cave the wall entirely. He regenerates? The question stuck itself in my head as he attempted to physically paste me to the wall. Backing off and grabbing my legs with both hands he then hurled me across the room. With some distance between us, I clawed at my weapon and pulled the trigger as I attempted to blast him across the torso.

Only no bullets were fired.

What the hell is going on?

The weapon is not damaged nor malfunctioning, but it refuses to fire. The delay cost me dearly as he slammed me again, this time we could both hear several of my bones snap. Gripping me with two very large and powerful hands the mutant began to taunt me. "They call me Behemoth. Now you can feel why." Personnelly, his deep and thick accent was beginning to annoy. I drove my fists to the side of his head, but the blows were random and desperate, matching my frantic state of mind as blood seeped from my mouth and I battled uphill for life. Behemoth was unfazed by the blows, and used two of his free hands to pull my helmet from my face. Staring me in the eyes for the first time as hechoked the life out of me. "Any last words before I kill you and hang your corpse on display?"

I answered, but his choking made my attempt at speech barely audible. He then pressed his face closer to mine and asked again. "What was that, didn't quite catch that."

"F*ck you."

I switched my tactics to fighting dirty, slamming the one weakness all of my kind share with the ruthless force of my armored right boot. The groin. Behemoth caved in easily after that as I gasped for air, both of us racing to see which of us would recover first, as I forced myself to stand I saw that the mutant had retracted all of his extra arms as his only concern was nesting his damaged goods. Wasting no time as I stood over him clasped both of my hands to either side of his skull and placed my thumbs over each of his eyes, Behemoth began to claw at me and scream in pain as I eye guaged him, blood cascading down his face as his eyes were destroyed. Gritting my teeth I then wrapped my gloved hands around his head and ended the fight a second time with a grostique snapping of his neck, severing his head from his spine for the most part. His body thumped onto the foor as it fell in a very awkward manner. Breathing heavily but victorious over the man, I spat blood onto him uttering what I hoped to be a final warning.

"Stay dead."

I popped my neck as I walked away from him. This time however facing the corpse to make sure he does not regenerate once more, while picking up one of my combat knives from the dusty tile floor. As I was about to assure myself the man was truly dead this time, a flash of light connected with his body and I realized the truth, he was not regenerating, rather was reversing time. Is this brute immortal? It certainly seemed so as I knew another round of fighting was about to commence. But more strangely than the dead corpse reversing time, the more he spoke, the less he seemed to actually be aware of what is going on.

"You will need far more than a can opener to kill me." As he repeated his simple but pretty damn effective strategy of blitzing me, I thought about how his statement implied that he was unaware of already dying twice by my hand. But as I ducked under a massive swing, it was clear. That if things keep progressing this way, I will eventually tire and be killed. I was careful to evade his wide and predictable blows, knowing it could be over if he caught me. I lunged at him blade in hand, making a superficial cut but seeing that with his many arms he could both defend and attack, as he grabbed my knife hand and tore the blade away from me, I rolled around him in a attemp to take him from the side.

But it was like fighting a damn tank, he slashed me across my chest, saved only by my kevlar as he slugged me with piston like punches which sent me reeling to the floor and into a pile of seeming trash. I could hear his heavy footsteps behind me as I panicked searched through the pile for anything useful. As he was almost over me, my blurry vision spotted a bic lighter and a spray can. Not giving it a second thought I snatched both common household items up and rolled over on my back to face Behemoth. The sight of sudden terror in his eyes the last thing I saw as a jet of bright orange flame enveloped him.

His cries split my ears as he randomly bumped into walls as the stench of burning flesh filled my nostrils. The whole sight combined with pain convinced me to puke, as I took a moment to gather my breath. In the span of around a minute, Behemoth's cries fell silent. And retrieving two of the remaining four knives from my vest I stood myself back up and watched the burning corpse intently, determined to discover the method used to keep reviving him. The smell was the worst part of the waiting, as I had concluded that whateve being wa behind the repeated revival of this mutant was utterly dispicable. This man did not need to suffer several gruesome deaths, but by the intervention of some third party he has had to endure far too much.

As a mercy I will ensure the next time is the final time. I stood there, my body tense and throbbing as I searched for anything. And then I saw it. An arrow, for only a brief instant contact the body. Then the normal process of his reverting back to a time when he had no injuries occured again. Only this time there would be no fight. As he prepared himself for our fourth fight, I threw both of the large knives at him, each one embedding themselves into my target. He reeled back in sharp pain as he attempted to pull the knives free. I dashed at him, drawing my final two blades, all of them housing bombs in the handles, and with the opening I created I stabbed both of them deeply into his gut. Backing away immediately after and leaving him in the room by himself, pulling the detonator from my vest as I walked down the hall and up the stairs of the building, pressing the detonator twice.

"Click, click...boom." On cue the exposion rocked the building and collapsed that room, turning Behemoth into meatchunks, It seemed the mutants had retreated, possibly because they figured Gravity could handle it, or for any number of reasons. But they were not my concern, instead my focus was on only the one which made me kill a man three times over. It is time to call the bastard out. As I reached the roof of the building, my eyes scanned across the cityscape. I could not see whoever was hiding, but I was certain they could see me. Wounded and battered, as fighting a mutant behemoth for fifteen minutes will do that to you.

My voice then echoed across the distance.

"DID THAT NOT ENTERTAIN YOU!? ARE YOU SO TERRIFIED OF A SINGLE HUMAN WARRIOR THAT YOU WOULD HIDE YOURSELF AND ALLOW A FALLEN COMRADE TO FIGHT YOUR BATTLES SEVERAL TIMES OVER!?" I had nearly driven myself hoarse as my voice began to break.

"Answer me!!!" I breathed rasply as I shot my eyes back and fort, awaiting for my hidden adversary to reveal himself.

Lysia

So predictable, but then again, it's a poor huntress that can't predict her prey, then again who can't predict the simple nature of man. He has faced the brute many times over so I suppose he has earned himself a worthy death, even if his life is worthless. My bow and arrows vanished and in it's place a sword and shield formed, let's give the prey a chance to see the huntress, a last honor, even if he's undeserving of it. I jumped out of the building from several stories high and left an impact on the ground before I started racing towards my prey's location. To make the run faster and more unpredictable I used my powers sporadically to vanish from where I was standing and reappear where I would be standing in the future.

As I closed in I began shouting, if this was a real hunt I would remain silent and attack when the prey is unprepared, but this is just a man I'm hunting, no need for caution. "Don't overvalue your worthiness, all you've proven is that you're a better beast than the one I made you fight, and don't mistake this for a fight, this is a hunt, and striking from the shadows, wounding the beast before striking it is the way of the huntress. Now be proud that you will face an honorable death at the hands of an Amazon!" When I was close enough I drew me sword and raised my shield and charged at him resembling a simple charge, but my intention was to roll down and behind him then leap and do a downward strike. As that is my plan it is a simple matter of activating my powers and propelling me in a future position. And just like that I vanished in a blue and white light and appeared behind him already with my sword raised high ready to strike this man down in a single swing.

"One strike should be enough for weak prey like you!"

[Charmera]

-snip

A large orb floated in the middle of Mad Max, Val Valentine, Otto Godblessed, and Xala, acting like a magical camera into the meeting spot where the Enchantress was to hand over her prisoner to the Xyrixma. The gang was situated in a pocket dimension "next" to Niflheim, where they could enter the realm at a moment's notice, but observation was more important at that point. But, as the scene played out, Max watched silently as the prisoner overpowered Enchantress, or rather, outsmarted her by absorbing her magical energies. "Xala," He called out, the slime girl picking her head up to listen, "Do you know this Xyrix?"

"I'm...Not sure." She said honestly, "If I had to guess just based on absorbing magic, her name is Zaki. I don't know her too well, I just know of her."

"I see. That makes things interesting, though - Doesn't it? Xyrixma's have an affinity for specific types of energy they devour, say for example you, Xala, you can absorb solar radiation, whereas this...Zaki, can absorb magical energy. Very interesting indeed, we could have use for someone like that, and by the looks of this and the wording in that letter from Enchantress, it doesn't look like Zaki was going to be exchanged for another prisoner, but ransomed off."

"It seems that Enchantress has picked a nice location for me. I'll empowered in this realm, and I think we may need every bit of power if these Xyrixma are as powerful as warned. But, have our objectives changed? Shall we still take Enchantress' prisoner or leave her be?" Xala nodded, wondering what must be done about Zaki.

"The mission was to take the prisoner for ourselves, Otto. But we'll simply use diplomacy rather than force to take her to our side."

"And if words don't work?" Val asked, watching Zaki intently through the orb.

Max smirked under his helm, "Then we can use force."

---

BOOM.

A vortex opened behind Zaki, a man clad in armor stepping forth onto the frigid wasteland of Niflheim from the space he occupied previously, a female and male warrior exiting behind him, the crunch of the snow beneath their feet marking their presence, had the impossibly loud Boom Tube not announced it already. Behind those three, though, was a curiosity, a slime creature, a Xyrixma. Max spoke quickly and forcibly, using the Allspeak so that he could be understood. "Zaki, I presume? I am Maxwell Morningstar, and these are some of our Godbreakers." He said, motioning to the ones behind him.

"I have come to offer you shelter from the coming Xyrixma, as I have done with another of your race." He said, Xala moving to Max's side, tilting her head to the side with a smile and a wave.

"Hello!" Xala said cheerfully, "I'm Xala. Haven't we...um, met before, or something?" She said nervously. "Oh it's so cold...." She complained, shivering a bit despite being made of slime. "We...We need to hurry..." She said, turning to Max, who stood stoic and unmoving. "They could be here any moment..."

"Not only that, Xala...But they could already be here."

Zaki frowned as she instantly spun around, the sound having broken her out of her euphoria. At first she thought that perhaps it could be one of the other Generals or Xyrix herself come to take her for their end of the bargain. She was fully prepared to hit them with some sort of magic when she realized they were not all Xyrixma. In fact the one that was there looked rather familiar. Zaki kept her face as nuetral as possible, even though she was fairly sure they didn't wish to hurt her, she reserved judgement for now.

"That is my name, yes." Zaki replied with a slight nod. "Though, shelter isn't quite what I require from my kind..." she replied, though she didn't eloborate.

She offered a return smile to the one Xala gave her. "Oh... yes. I remember you now." He smile weakened slightly. This was the one the council had made the decision on. The one in exile. Xyrix had left her fate to be up to the Generals, and they had decided a prison sentance in all but name. She paused, about to apologize, when she heard the cracks of spacial rifts.

"Turn Traitor. Let us see your cowardly face before you die." Spoke the voice of Kalxanix, one of the 18 Generals. There had been 20, but ever since Rixi grew too large to contact and Zaki herself left the fold, there were only 18. 5 of which were standing behind Kal, as Zaki could see as she turned to face her old friends.

Kalxanix was a red slime, whom absorbed rage, including her own. Just to the right of her was Ziaxia, whom absorbs Gravity. There was Jazia, whom absorbed sound. There was Glaxia, whom absorbed and projected cold, and finally there was Oblixia, whom was leading the group and whom could absorb Thoughts, making her a potent psychic.

"Xala. So that's why you weren't responding to the marshaling order" Remarked Oblixia. "Why side with these fleshlings over your own people? At least tell us that." She spoke, speaking to Zaki too.

Zaki frowned. "We're not traitors." Zaki shook her head. "You've got to know this kind of life is not sustainable."

"It's all we have Zaki. What would you have us do? Die out? Or run after your fantasies with Primordial Ooze?" Oblixia shook her head. "This is the only way." She then turned to Max. "This doesn't concern you. This is a matter between Xyrixma."

Oxford College of Charms and Spells

Loss breathed in deeply as he returned to the physical world, the shadows around him dispelling. Just outside of them, Madam Fang was meditating. She shook her head slightly before opening her eyes. "Loss." She smirked. "What a pleasant surprise."

Loss rolled his eyes. "The boy will be fine in a day or two. Alex and I established a formal healing chamber in the west wing just for this purpose." He lifted the boy over his back easily.

Madam Fang glanced over at the manor. "Isn't it a bit small to say it has wings? It looks more like a couple rooms on each side, that's it."

He chuckled. "We shrank its outside and made the inside bigger. I can assure you, it's much more impressive inside.

She sighed. "Of course you did."

The two walked inside and to the healing chamber. Inside the stark white room, an antiseptic smell permeated its entirety, and the roof was absolutely littered with various life preservation runes. "They're along the walls and floor too, just hidden." Loss remarked. "Now, if you can watch the boy, I need to make a call."

He left her with the child, pulling out a phone, calling Alex. "You there? We need to talk."

"I'm here Loss." Spoke Alex, whom was swiveling in her room, with little to do since Loss had the students. She had some paperwork to file and do and whatnot, but she was instead practicing the art of procrastination. "What's going on?"

"That... sounds good." She spoke, not yet sure whether or not Hiro should sleep on the couch or not. Claudia was a little unsure about all this still, and felt herself wishing she hadn't decided to take Hiro back. She still loved him, but there was still niggling doubt that she felt inside.

Barely hiding his heavy sigh, Hiroshi slipped past her for a moment, slipping into his room to pull on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. This was hardly how he imagined spending his first night back, and he barely did anything to hide the annoyed expression on his features as he pulled a pillow off his bed, tossing it towards the couch with his free hand, the Hybrid turned towards Claudia as he slipped past her again.

" I was thinking." He remarked quietly. " I missed Tomia's birthday during... that time. Maybe we should celebrate it tomorrow? I'm sure she'd enjoy a few normal days before she gets back into the same old schedule."

"We should. After all things have been far from normal for so long. We should actually determine what normal is now." She spoke. Claudia crossed her arms, still not sure what she was feeling. She was afraid that if she gave herself too much time to think she'd walk away again. Maybe she should. Maybe this wasn't the kind of thing she was cut out for. But she had to give it a shot. For Tomia at least.