Infinite Justice: Origin (IC, Always Open!)

[The Republic of Atria]

OOC: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=397339


Mark

Mark snuck through the creaky house. A gang was planning a shoot out with another rival gang in the area. Normally he'd be all for gangbangers shooting each other to death, but there were too many civilians in the area and they could get shot. Most of them couldn't withstand a large number of bullet wounds and not be in any danger. He switched his eyesight to see beyond the normal spectrum of light humans could see. One of the benefits of his powers, he could seen in infrared and thermal. There were no less than six people in the room next to him. The realization that he really didn't need to sneak around hit him. The entire scenario would almost certainly devolve into a firefight anyways. So he decided to make the best entrance he could think of: Straight through the wall. Mark was strong enough that he could toss cars around like a child and his toys, so he was trying not to kill them. When he smashed through the wall, the force was enough to knock the closest man down. "So. I heard you guys were going to shoot the crap out of some other guys. I already paid them a visit, and we discussed terms. How about you don't have gunfights in the streets, huh? So people don't get shot."

The man Mark knocked down scrambled back and drew his weapon at the unimpressed man standing not 10 feet away from him. "Oh yeah tough guy?" He asked, wiping the plaster dust out of his eyes with his free hands. "There's one of you, and six of us." He said as his cohorts drew weapons, 2 more handguns, a shotgun, a chain, and a bowie knife. "Go on tough guy."

"You're the boss." Mark was careless. He could afford to be. A few gunshots were no more dangerous to him than a mosquito bite. The gang members grew antsy as he stepped forward. There had to be a trick. No one just walks into a bunch of armed men. So one of them took the bait and shot him, the bullet pierced his left eye and existing the back of his head, pinging off of the wall, before landing on the floor. Mark stopped for a second, as a chunk of his face was gone. His skull reformed within seconds, and his eye popped right back out. The unpleasant squishing sounds of gore repairing itself made most of them green around the gills. Mark just shrugged. He shoved the man in front of him with enough force to send him through the wall. The rest opened fire on him, but no matter how many bullets and shotgun slugs struck the man, it didn't stop him. Mark grabbed one man and slammed him on the center table. One tried to attack him from behind, jumping on him and stabbing him with the large knife, over and over. Mark simply threw him off with enough force that he flew across the room and was knocked out. He pulled out the large knife sticking out of his back. By now, the gangsters had run out of ammo and were frantically trying to reload their magazines.

The one with the chain swung at him, only to have Mark catch the chain and just glare at him. One of the thugs must have landed or stepped on the remote to the TV, because it flickered on while he grabbed the man in a headlock. He tried to escape, but Mark might as well have been make of stone for the good all of his struggling did. The bullet riddled man stopped as the news started on.

"And we have reports of what appear to be space ships entering the atmosphere. Several of the most mobile heroes are already intercepting." The female newscaster said.

"Well, shit. I guess I gotta go help save the world. So uh... Yeah." Mark said, paying no heed to the dozens of bullet holes that riddled his body. "I gotta go. Don't play with guns. Cause if you do, I'll know." He said shoving the thug he had in his arm to the ground. To make his exit, he left the house through the wall, which was no less than 5 feet away from the door.

The thugs were understandably rattled. "The fuck did he do that for?! We have a door!"

Maria

It was the middle of the day as she started to prepare dinner. Xander promised that he would spend the entire evening with her, and she wasn't going to give him an excuse not to show up. Dinner was going to be steaks, rolls and mashed potatoes. Most of which were already done. She was making desert: Fudge with extra nuts. Her tail swished back and forth happily as she threw the batter into the oven. She had to be careful about her tail, making sure it didn't smack into something made of glass. It was still one of her favorite things about her body. In her mind, it made her unique. That and it was prehensile. Which made it very useful for grabbing things. She had a few minutes and decided to watch some TV to see if there were any movies that she wanted to watch. As soon as it was turned it on, she was greeted by the screech of the Emergency Broadcast System. At first she dismissed it as one of their tests, until she read the captions mentioning that aliens were invading. "Are you KIDDING me?!" She hissed almost crushing the TV remote in her hand.

"One night a month! That's all I ask! And now ALIENS?!" She said before taking a few deep breaths. "I'm not missing this." She was every bit as powerful as her husband, and she was going to make sure the aliens, who had the audacity to invade on a personal night, knew it. Maria grabbed her costume from her closet, ran outside, and shot into into the sky, leaving a white streak in her wake.

[The Fallen Jedi]

Asumar Masaki

Asumar's charcoal black eyes were shut, his breathing steady and hardly noticeable, he had been lying on the sandy surface of Santa Monica Beach, after having arrived to Earth on a survey mission months as to understand why there were so many superhuman beings in one place, Asumar began to transition into the lifestyle of humans, he was away from the Old Masaki Dynasty, limited in contact with his armies, and more importantly, Asumar had next to nothing to do. He had been resting soundly on the beach for a few hours now, the light breeze and the sound of salt water crashing against the sand was like music to his ears, he had also gotten a tan during his little rest. What he would awaken to however was not a scene of peace and serenity, but a battlefield of warfare, his eyes began to open when the alien spaceship cast a shadow over the sun "This is new..." Asumar muttered to himself as rose from the sand, rubbing the offending sand particles from his unruly hair and then arched his back backwards, satisfied when he heard a series of consecutive cracks from his spine "Ahh..." Was all the Vice Warlord could exclaim.

Now awaken, Asumar turned to his left, grabbed hold of a small cartridge in his pocket and then dropped it down on the ground, revealing a black & brown tunic that was complete with an obsidian black robe that he quickly donned upon his person, uncaring for the spaceship that was hovering ominously over the city of Los Angeles "Thought I'd see an invasion within the first week, but it took them two months to arrive? Amazing." Asumar remarked sarcastically with a chuckle, his feet beginning to rise up off of the ground as he utilized his powers to take flight "Let's see what type of aliens we're facing today..." With that, Asumar made his way towards the heart of the city, his arms crossed, and a rather relaxed expression on his face.

Kazuko Masaki

"All troops to your stations, Starfighter Corps prepare for launch!" Kazuko ordered over the Intercom of the Serenity, a Star Dreadnought-Class Masaki Worldship. Turning to one of the many Masaki Guardians, Kazuko spoke "Someone get the nearest fleet here as soon as possible, not even a Worldship can tackle an entire fleet of Capital Ships without suffering heavy damage-" The Grand Warlord was suddenly interrupted by an explosion that shook the bridge to it's core, the blast door that kept the bridge sealed had been opened with explosive ordinance.

"Contact!" A mechanical voice exclaimed, the Masaki Guardians quickly responding to the breach by activating the blasters on their arms and engaging the Alien Strike Force that had found it's way onto the ship somehow. Within mere moments, the entire bridge was nothing more than a shooting gallery, with the exception of Kazuko leaping into the fray with his Plasma Blade active, deflecting the energy bolts that had been making it's way towards him with relative ease. He had absolutely no idea as to how an Alien Strike Force made it's way to the bridge, but it didn't made any difference since they were on board right now. Using his power, Kazuko lept up, releasing a telekinetic burst of energy that sent them crashing backwards into the wall with enough force to knock them unconscious.

"I want to know how they got aboard this ship, in the meantime, activate all defensive turrets and secure key fortifications on the ship, we can't let them run about and cause damage to the support systems." Kazuko ordered, not with strict authority in his voice, but concern for what might happen to the Worldship or any of it's inhabitants "Alert Lightning Squadron and inform them to prepare to launch as soon as possible, they will be my escort for the battle ahead."

[Pantorrum]

Psionis
Outside Los Angeles

---

He stood outside an abandoned warehouse on the southern most outskirts of LA. The building, even from a distance of 50 feet, reeked of decay. Beneath the graffiti tatted exterior were, most likely, millions of termites and a mostly deteriorate framework that somehow held up the 75 year old building. Psionis, for all of his abilities, had never guessed that this would be the place Dextro would hide out at. That this ruined building would hide from him, for 3 days, the most psychotic and demented villain he had seen since taking on the persona of Psionis. He only discovered that this was his secret hideout through accident. He had known that Dextro fled NYC for LA, and Psionis followed him relentlessly across the country. That part wasn't difficult, all he had to do was follow the murders and robberies that seemed to move on a jagged path across the country. The difficult part was locating him in America's 2nd largest city. By chance...or fate, perhaps...he overhead a conversation 2 children were having of suspicious sounds and noises going on at the old Warehouse. All it took was a quick look into the conveniently placed children's unprotected minds to find out where this building was. And here he was.
The front door was swinging slightly open as a warm breeze blew past. It was a fair day, with a bright sun in the sky and a clear forecast. A beautiful day to spend at the beach. Which wasn't a bad idea, after he brought down Dextro. Casting the thought of enjoying his trip aside, he walking quickly toward the door. Their was a show of confidence in every step he took. An unquestioned resolve that said Dextro would be taken down once and for all.
As he reached the door, it opened violently inward from his telekinetic forces, snapping the hinges off the frame and sending them flying inward. They caused a lot of racket, knocking over several things before coming to a rest. And as he took his first steps in, the dark building was suddenly lit up by what appeared to be recently installed lights. A clapping noise could be heard from a catwalk above him. And then came the voice. That unmistakable sound. The sound of a madman.

"Ahh, Psionis. I've been expecting you for some time. Welcome...to my humble base of operations." He leaped down to the ground, landing in front of him with swiftness and ease. He turned to face him, a frowning expression about him. "I had hoped you would be a little more graceful with your entrance, though." An obviously false frown took his face. "Those weren't cheap."
Psionis took a few steps forward, pointing his finger at Dextro and speaking with a tempered but normal voice for a young man. "Enough, Dextro!" He slashed his hand through the air. "This ends here. Your reign of terror is over. Now either you come quietly, or I take you down the fun way."
Dextro couldn't help but smile. He had always found Psionis' confidence amusing. In a mean spirited, sadistic voice, he gave a sharp reply. "If only your unbritled confidence was enough to bring down a criminal mastermind the likes you've never seen!"

Alazar wasn't wasting any time talking, though. Normally, he would take a moment to degrade Dextro. But he knew that any second he wasted was one played right into Dextro's eventual escape.
"I've heard quite enough." He brought his right middle and pointer finger to the side of his head. He attempted to to take control of his mind and inflict mental pain, but to his great surprised, he collapsed to his knees. A blast of mental waves had suddenly been released from an unseen source that had crippled him completely.

"Oh, Psionis, you poor poor fool. Rushing so confidently into here, promising to see me defeated. You didn't take a moment to consider my plan. You see, my arch nemesis, I know full and well just what you can do. And I spent a great deal of time finding this rare but useful device. You see, I picked it up when we passed through Arizona from an old friend. And as long as I hold the remote, your psychic powers are useless. You are at my command."

Psionis panted on the ground, struggling with a sharp pain in his head. "Why did you come here? What are you planning? What's going on?!?" He yelled in agonizing misery. And Dextro enjoyed every moment of it.
"Well, seeing as you are about to die, I'll tell you. I've planted a bomb on the 35th floor of Los Angeles trademark US Bank Tower. And it's set to go off at midnight. It will kill thousands of people, and leave a scar on the face of this city for all eternity. And it will become my greatest work, my legacy. I will go down in history tonight, and the world will fear me and what I am capable of!"

Suddenly, Psionis vanished from where he had been, and Dextro looked down to see that he wasn't holding the controller to the machine anymore. He had a rock in his hand instead. Stunned and confused, he turned swiftly around to see Psionis standing behind him.
"Very interesting idea you shared there, Dextro. Perhaps next time you should be a little more careful." Confused and distraught, he took 3 steps back and stared at Psionis with a bewildered look. "How?" He begged. "You were just suffering on the floor. How did you escape!? I had you! I defeated you even without using my powers! This isn't possible."
Smiling, Psionis lifted his hand toward Dextro and lifted him several feet into the air.

What Dextro didn't know was everything he just endured was a carefully illustrated illusion. Alazar had not even come through the front, he had entered the back of the building. He prevented Dextro from seeing him, using his illusion manipulation, while he searched the warehouse for traps. He found the machine and remote, and proceeded to replace the remote with a rock he had found on the ground. He then cast the illusion that he had burst in through the front. And created the illusion that the rock was the remote to the device. Then stood back and collected all the information without moving a muscle as he watched Dextro talk to no one.

"I didn't escape Dextro, you never had me. You simply thought you did. Today, your own mind defeated you. A simple trick, I'm afraid. Perhaps next time you should stick to you old school techniques. At least you stood a fighting chance."

The police soon arrived and took Dextro away while Psionis took to the sky, heading toward the tower. He quickly disarmed the bomb, knowing the exact floor and all. Then, he took flight toward the beach. He had, after all, been serious about enjoying the rest of the day. It was a rare moment in the life of a hero. He spent countless hours helping others, and he had earned (as far as he was concerned) a day of relaxation before heading back to New York.

Of course that idea went down quickly when he glanced up to see Alien ships descending through the atmosphere. It was a shocking turn of events. As if Dextro actually having a thought out plan wasn't crazy enough, now a massive ship was heading toward millions of innocent people. He knew for a fact they weren't from Earth, and from all the movies he had seen, presumed the worst.
'I cant do nothing,' he thought. "So much for the beach," he yelled from the sky. As the ship descended, he teleported to ground beneath it. He would meet these Aliens and see exactly what they were here for. With any luck, they would be peaceful, and he could just go enjoy himself. Of course, he knew how unlikely that would be. He was never so fortunate.

[New Finnish Republic]

Arrow
Los Angeles, California

Arrow woke up with a start as his room began to suddenly vibrate, causing him to fall out of his bed without any clothing at all to protect, ahem, his arrow from the outside world. What in the hel- His thoughts were cut short as a massive explosion rocked the side of his apartment building. Debry flew everywhere, and it was only due to his enhanced reaction time that he was able to dodge what would have been a decapitating glass plate. Instead, it harmlessly flew over his head, crashing into the wall behind him and throwing what remained of the pizza slice that had been on it onto the wall. "Oh come on, I was gonna eat that!" Arrow yelled in frustration before realizing that he had a much, much bigger issue on his hands. That would be the massive armada of what were...aliens?

Now that's something you don't see every day, Arrow thought as a fleet of ships came looming towards the bustling Californian town that he had used as a hideout since his last "job" had been completed. He had been laying low and enjoying the spoils of his reward, and he had been planning on doing that for a much longer period of time before these...visitors came to play. Looks like my vacation's over.

As he rushed off to his room, he turned on the TV to the local news channel. To say that mass hysteria had broken out was an understatement. People were fleeing for their lives as the unexpected visitors had suddenly descended upon their town. How in the hell they managed to do that without someone noticing their approach was beyond his knowledge, but he felt like someone would have some explaining to do if they managed to survive this.

As he approached his clothing cabinet, he pressed his hand to what appeared to be a normal drawer. Instead of opening when he pulled on the handle, the handle began to scan the fingerprints of Arrow's hand, and after a few seconds, a touchscreen appeared from the cabinet. After entering the code "Meatlover's", the screen quickly disappeared back into the cabinet as it began to expand into something much larger than one would expect.

Inside lay Arrow's armor, helmet, and boots, as well as a wide variety of weaponry that could be used in a variety of situations. Not knowing what he was going up against, he decided to go with the classic loadout, his McMillan Tac-50 rifle and a Sig Sauer P226 along with a variety of frag grenades and stun grenades. Attached to both weapons were a variety of attachments including weapon sights that linked up with the heads-up display on his helmet.

As soon as he got dressed, he made his way down to the street where his motorcycle stood parked, waiting for its rider. With a simple voice command, the bike automatically started itself up and was ready to go the second Arrow landed in the seat. He revved up the engine loudly before blasting off towards where the aliens were likely to make their landing at. He hadn't made it more than a block when a phone call came through to him. It was one of his clients, who was frantically demanding that Arrow come to her aid. The gentleman he was, he happily accepted her request. That is, after a sum of 50 million dollars was wired into his bank account. Business was business, after all.

Using the navigation display that showed the quickest route to the client's location, Arrow weaved in and out of the traffic that had stopped completely as terrified drivers abandoned their vehicles in hopes of getting away from the oncoming onslaught. Arrow almost felt bad for the poor bastards, as he doubted they would either find a shelter adequate enough or have time to get away should worse come to worse. Granted, neither do I, he thought as he made his way onto the compound where his client was located at.

She was frantic as she tried to call in her personal helicopter to pick her up, but it appeared it would be several minutes until it would arrive. Until then it was up to Arrow and the handful of bodyguards to protect her from whatever was about to come. Not like they'll do any good, if anything they'll just get in the way, he thought as he set up his sniper nest in a nearby window that offered a great view of the street below. He didn't know where these bastards had come from, but they were about to see what a .50 caliber round could do.

[New Neros]

Madworld

Theme

The King of the Parahumans seat peacefully upon his throne, the massive expanse of the royal court dimly lit despite the daylight hour. A series of couriers and nobles had stated their business before King Michael Morningstar, the monarch growing increasingly absent-minded in the proceedings, hand waving most of the messages away. To his left hand side was Maddox Shatterstar, a robust and stout Parahuman, gifted with immense power and strength beyond measure, while to his right was the righteous Otto Godblessed, the moral compass of the King and Court. Both took their jobs seriously and handled them with respect, but their senses perked up as a courier rushed into the halls of Cathedral Terra.

"My Lord! My Lord!" The messenger cried, breathing heavily and sparing no time in reaching the ears of the King, collapsing to his knees in both exhaustion and in reverence. "Our atmospheric scans indicate a large and unknown force entering the exosphere, Majesty, of sizable number and alien design." The courier bowed his head further, "War Eagle reports that he is dispatching a task force of Thunderbirds to the Azores to deal with the incursion."

"Bah." Thundered the Mad King, "War Eagle can have the Eastern Hemisphere for all I care. Ready a division of the Forever Knights." Michael leaned and told Shatterstar, who nodded and quickly disappeared from sight due to his remarkable speed. "Otto, I will leave the Court to your jurisdiction, as I will form a strike team to deal with the threats that War Eagle has decided were not worth his time. Ready my warships."

Otto stooped slightly in a bow, "Yes, Majesty, but I imagine the metahumans of North America will have their area firmly covered."

"Leaving South America to my protection." Michael stated firmly, rising from his Throne, "Valkyrie!" He yelled, descending his steps and coming onto the floor of the Court, a beautiful, blonde Parahuman woman descending before the King seemingly out of nowhere and kneeling deeply, driving her sword into the ground at her side. "Val, ready the Valkyrie Squadron. We will depart in ten minutes."

Val rose to her feet and nodded, "Yes, Majesty." She declared, lifting herself into the air and flying out of the palace, Michael walking steadily behind, but turning before he exited, and entered the vast catacombs of Cathedral Terra. Making his way to his private chambers, Michael took a look at his vast private collection of artifacts and items of power, some of which were just props and pieces of technology, but some of which were very real and very potent. Michael stopped in front of a plain spear, but continued walking after deciding it was not the time yet. He entered his chamber and grabbed his helmet from his bed, Morningstar putting it on and powering it up.

---

A small squadron of floating vessels had assembled at the Tropic of Cancer, surrounded by several floating groups of men and women. Standing aboard the roof of a floating vessel, the King of the Parahumans spoke fiercely so that his voice could be heard over the high winds. "We will enter the continent at Georgetown, where the Valkyrie Squadron will be given authority over the Amazon Basin and everything to the north of it. The remaining forces will then split, with one squadron to push into the Bolivian Plateau headed by Shatterstar, and another squadron to push towards Rio de Janeiro, after which, it will pivot south towards the Rio de la Plata, lead by me. Ensure heads-up displays are functional and constant communication is needed to understand the threat posed by the invading forces. Operation Able Sentry begins now."

At his urging, the groups spread themselves and flew south towards the continent, Michael's party leading the way and accelerating rapidly across the Amazonian landscape, several ships and flying personnel leaving the group according to the Op, reaching the heart of the Amazon and spreading themselves out thinly to cover a wide-area, waiting for the moment of contact to begin their theater. Accelerating into the Andean Mountains, Shatterstar and his ship group split off, spreading themselves along the continental spine and deep into Mato Grosso. Finally, Morningstar's final group veered east, securing the skies of Brasilia, Sao Paulo, and finally Rio itself.

Suddenly, chatter began on the Parahuman lines of communication as hostile alien contact was held between members of the Valkyrie Squadron in Colombia and with Shatterstar's brigade in Bolivia. Morningstar himself came upon a massive warship without warning off the coast of Sao Paulo, attempting communication first and foremost. The lines of data sent were either not received or ignored, as the alien warship made no move for several minutes. Again, the Mad King tried to contact the vessel, but this time, a reply of energy blasts and warheads were given.

Morningstar gave the order and unleashed his Forever Knight air squadrons against the alien vessel, their absorption shields protecting them from bombardment and clearing the skies of the smaller alien craft in a coordinated fashion. Flight-able Forever Knights played critical roles as well, destroying the opposition without much difficulty. Status reports across the three theaters of operation stated the same - Parahumanity was devastating the alien invasion forces. "It seems too easy." Michael declared, removing himself from the command chair of a fast-attack airship. "Any information on other fronts across the globe?"

All that could be shown so far was War Eagle's operations in the Northeast Atlantic, from Ireland down to Morocco, which he was decisively winning as well, his automated armada of winged golems, also known as Thunderbirds, doing the heavy lifting. If that was the case, it seems like the aliens are piss-poor planners at invading a planet... Or that this isn't the main invasion areas. Michael began to crawl through information through the internet, finding higher encounters and interactions on North America's West Coast. "California seems to be the real hotspot." He said to himself, not noticing as his vessel crept into over the Rio de la Plata, coming into view of foreign combatants hailing from Antarctica.

[Finland SSR]

Janette Kazlas

---

Right, left. Right, left. A faux offensive to one side to get the person in front of me confused, then a sudden charge through the other flank towards the net. The rest of the team was scattered and confused first, but soon reorganized to put up a last-ditch defense in close quarters.

But that's okay.

As soon as two players stood in front of me to make a barrier, I passed the ball immediately to the left, to the hands of Jamie, our center, who then leaped up to slam the ball right through the hoop. Alas! We're beating the Los Angeles Sparks by three points now! Though, to be honest, the fact that our opponents have been going so well today is also great. After all, now that we've passed through the Eastern Conference, and fairly easily, in fact, we should have expected to receive stiffer competition.

I gave a quick high-five to Jamie, and then suddenly the referee blew the whistle. The first half of the game was over, and with a sweet finish, and it was time for the long break. The teams went back to their benches, and I immediately grabbed onto the first bottle of water in front of me and finished half in just a few seconds.

"That was an amazing dunk, Jamie," I commented to my teammate, who just gave me a thumbs-up. Meanwhile, one of the reserve players sitting on the bench handed me my phone, saying:

"It's been constantly ringing for a few minutes now, Janette."

Oh. What could it be? "Thanks." I spoke and opened it up.

Wait... That's not a call at all. That's a notification. A few days ago, I installed an app for my phone that should inform me of any crime activity in the area, and it looks like it's working. Alright, so what is it? I think I can get out of here for a few minutes...

'A large group of unidentified flying objects are roaming over Los Angeles and preparing an invasion, 3 kilometers from here'

...Oh. Shit. Well, I guess now I have to see what's going on.

[Altito Asmoro]

Rex Beast, First Entry

*sigh*....Where to begin? Right, here. It's been months, I couldn't remembered how many months already after I busted out from that cell...from that experiment. Ever since then, I've been strolled around the state, not staying in just one place. You see, I am hunted. At first, it's just the military, though they can bring me back easily and without problems. Too bad, they failed. Badly. I just had to wrecked many of their men.

The problem's getting bigger. I encountered Elysium. Those guys are even worse, chanted about "destructions" of cities and cleansing of the sins. I don't like it, so I pound them some more. Hell, even encountered one of them, Atlas the Sufferer. Terrible fight, it was a draw, but the battle made me realized that I need something new. My energy source is weakening, and soon I have to look for the better, or new.

Unless you want me to drop dead.

---

Rex Beast/RX-01
San Fransisco

"Look out!"

The black motorbike crashed into the barricade and skidded as the biker parked his bike. The man, now within a grasshooper-like warrior, faced against Elysium's latest plan. According to the latest minion he interrogated, it appeared that Elysium planned to have a diversion in San Fransisco while destroying few parts of its poorer districts.

Not a good thing, for all life is matters. Even his.

The fight began, although soon enough they realized that even as he was numerically inferior, he is more or less better and stronger and tougher. Rex able to kicked down almost all of the Elysium, and thus was only a matter of time before--

"And we have reports of what appear to be space ships entering the atmosphere. Several of the most mobile heroes are already intercepting." The female newscaster said.

He has a radio installed on his motorbike. Civilian-grade, but enough. As he looked on the sky, there appears to be almost nothing to see but silhouettes.

"Fuck. And I can't fly!"

[Argentumurbem]

Gary Speed
Washington

It liked the dark. The sun was too bright, too exciting in its nature. Everything seemed more alive when it radiated in the energies of a star. No, the night's sky was calming. It was here that reason could be found. Reason meant safety. And if it liked the dark, then he did so too.

For Gary the days passed in a blur of noise and smells, the pictures going past too fast to be understood. Happy. He felt happy. Did it make him feel it? He couldn't tell. Days had gone by without any sighting of their target, that elusive man in his blue suit. A lovely blue it was too, not too dark as to be black, but also not light enough to remind one of the daylight sky. Perfect.

They lay still, eyes peering through the floorboards. For anyone to stumble onto them was to find a statue, an obelisk of unnatural metals bound in intricate patterns, spelling out a language dead to human logic. For anyone to stumble onto them was to find death, a final image before they struck like coiled vipers against the exposed respiratory tract each human dared to show to the world. It was for everyone's sake that the attic never hosted any visitors.

In a passing moment, Gary recalled the last meal he had eaten. It had been cold, whatever the red meat had once been. He couldn't recall its taste, nor where he had found it. No. All he remembered what the temperature, a sensation of its lack of warmth. Maybe that was what had finally tuned his mind onto other, more important issues.

"He is coming home tomorrow," a voice announced, higher than that of Gary, or the man in blue. "We are going to surprise him."

The voice was answered by another, far higher in pitch and delivered with a shrill cheer. It was like glass piercing his very mind.

It made them both very angry.

[Newrey]

Dien Bien Phu, Indochina, 1954

For Robert the past few months had been hard. Days of marching and fighting had somehow brought his near invincible body to breaking point. Rather foolishly, he preferred to walk and run when the Legion was on the move, believing that to ride on any tank was a death trap should the Viet Cong spot you, as had been proven to him. Despite this, he still volunteered to take part in every extra mission offered by the Officers. So much so that officers often assigned Robert to take on extra roles without even asking.

Today was one of those days. Like most days, he had been placed on patrol duty to clear the roads through the valley to make a path for the armoured divisions to push through. With him marched seven other men, whose names escaped him, but he remembered them by distictive features. There was Orange, for his orange hair, Ublyudok, as he was a bastard and from Russia, Stalin JR, due to the identical mustache they had and the only other Russian in the group, Little Lenin, a German who had a striking resemblance to the man, Lyon, as he was from there, Polska, him being from Poland, Cos, being a cossack, and Baby, who was the youngest of the group. The jungles of North Indochina they slowly made their way down were hauntingly quiet, except for the distance rattle of gunfire coming from other parts of the jungle.

"What is the fucking smell?" Polska asked, looking back at the group. Polska was the only one who Robert could remember the appearance of. He had icy blue eyes, making themselves appear ghostlike compared to his snow-like skin. His hair seemed to be the only thing natural about him, being a light brown shade, but shaved closely to his head.

"I don't know...haven't smelt anything like i-" Robert began, before being interrupted by the scream of a man in pain and the unmistakable whizz of a bullet flying next to his head and embedding itself into the ground. "Contact!" he screamed, before running to the side of the trodden path for cover. He felt his grip tighten around his MAS-49 as the sound of shouting Viet Cong became louder in the dense jungle. He risked a glance around the tree he had taken cover behind, counting around five Viet Cong, before the tree trunk emitted small fragments as a bullet smashed into it ,and a now dead Cos, whose foot appeared to be ruined by an impromptu booby trap the Viet Cong were getting good at making. Several sharp spikes were all that were needed to bring a man to a stop and a few rounds would end his suffering. Although he knew that getting shot wouldn't kill him and that most of Command were aware of it, he didn't want his squad mates finding out and to avoid being used as cover all the time. He looked across the path to see Orange breathing heavily as he kept his own rifle close to his chest. "Orange, we nee-" again he was interrupted as a small metal object landed between them. He quickly glanced up and met Orange's grimacing and nodding before a blinding, firey flame filled his vision and a piercing pain erupting in his arm.

Los Angeles, CA, USA

Roberts eyes shot open, the light burning his eyes and ensuring that a black dot remained in his vision for some time. His heart beat wildly in his chest and the sound of beeping screamed in his ears. Looking down, he saw that he was tucked, rather tightly, into a bed in a stainless white room with the aforementioned blinding white lights. Feeling a cooling sensation running through his right arm, he looked their to find a wide-eyed woman scaring at him terrified, her hands holding a needle and cotton bud in her hands. Without hesitation, he went to pull his right arm away but found it bound to the side with leather straps. Angered, he glared at the woman, who promptly dropped her equipment and sprinted out of the room.

He began furiously tugging his right arm to release it from the straps, the sound of shouting and boots slamming against the floor only increasing the strength in which he was yanking. Tearing himself free, he quickly undid the straps that held his arms down and swinging hims legs over the side of the bed. His eyes began to focus on the room, revealing it to be even sleeker than he first thought. His bed appeared to be the only one in the entire room and it was surrounded by an array of almost science fiction machines, all of them connected to him via a number of patches taped over parts of his body.

He quickly tore them off, with a cool sensation remaining behind after each patch came off. He then tried to step of the bed, but found his legs to be in oddly impressive condition considering he had no idea how long he had been there. Wasting no more time, he began running towards the door and busted through. The sound of alarm sirens shrieked in his ears, hurting them immensely but he carried on, running down the endless sleek white corridors the building hosted and avoiding the armed patrols sent out to find him.

Eventually, he found himself at a door conveniently labelled 'FIRE EXIT'. Without hesitation, he burst through the door and continued running down the back alleys of the street. Glancing at the building, Robert remarked at how old and decrepit the building looked on the outside as opposed to the inside. Eventually he found himself out of breath in that back streets, with the sound of cars near by. Thinking of his next move, he felt a sudden slurry feeling form in his head, with it becoming light and his vision becoming blurry. Collapsing to his knees, he fell face first into a pile of boxes, unconscious and brought back into his previous dream.

[Upetria]

Utk xu prinku ud numatk, cthotk phu ur dondu phu vyss. Harld utk dorld dotk urld, voss urld utk dorld hispu utk, ulass dal uss urwirn

All may hide in darkness, both we and those we fear. Let us not scorn it, for it is not like us, either good or evil
-The Phobik Tome, chapter 132, section 3.4, "Musings of a beggars dream"

Some of the people of the city were beginning to scramble, word of trouble brewing once again. Safety measures had been put in place by their governments, safe areas from invasion had already been designated and fortified. The trouble was getting them there in a safe and sound manner. Once word spread, however, even those used to the constant threat their planet was under would find themselves descending slowly into riotous behavior. People were running to their cars, jumping from them when they found traffic to thick for their vehicles to be of used, and grabbing whatever belongings they could and stuffing them under their arms.

Amidst the growing confusion law enforcement and military groups were already being scrambled. They were of course woefully outmatched by an impending alien attack, but the thing about humans was that most of them didn't seem to care when that was the case. Admirable, though quite risky on an individual level.

Suddenly, amidst the swarming of human soldiers a black mist erupted from a clearing, swirling and churning about. Cacophonous whispers echoed across the busy streets as the smog expanded ever larger, the bending space making a hideous gurgling roar. Then, the smog contracted into a signal figure, a darkened shadow whose glowing eyes pierced through the blackness. As quickly as it had started, all was still, and a man stood in the center of the charred street.

He flexed his fingers against each other, crackling them. He looked into the eyes of the troops who now had their firearms defiantly pointed in his direction. He smiled. "So I heard there was a party. Not sure if that's true or not here, you all seem quite busy with something. Bad time?"

"Identify yourself!" Yelled an officer, brandishing his rifle.

Kunkit chuckled, and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax. I'm not a threat to anyone here. My name is Kunkit Wu. You know, ambassador to the netherscape? King of monsters, kind of a big deal?"

They stared blankly.

Kunkit blinked. "You know I have a passport if you want to check it ou-"

"What do you want?!"

He walked foward, adjusting the edges of his armor sarcastically. "Well, seeing as you are in a bit of a bind at the moment, what with the impending doom and all, I thought I might swing by and lend a hand with the defense effort, beat up a few pesky invaders, maybe grab a couple photo ops for this scrapbook I'm making. It's really turning out well so far, I should have brought it." He extended his hands in invitation. "Mind to give me a run down on what's going on."

The soldiers looked to their officer in confusion for a moment. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "I swear the people we get to fight these things..." He cleared his throat. "There's a blockade going on at Melrose Avenue. We're expecting heavy forces there. Elysium. They've been gunning for us for a while."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be on my way. He turned to leave, but paused a moment. "I like you beard by the way. It's very well kept." And with that, he exploded off of the pavement, black sand roiling into the sky towards the opposing forces.

[New Finnish Republic]

Arrow
Los Angeles, California

To say that his current situation was fucked was an understatement. What fighters the U.S military had managed to get into the air had done little damage to the massive fleet of invading alien ships that were hell-bent on wiping out the city of Los Angeles. It wasn't long after he had set up in his elevated position when he noticed very not human bodies coming down the street towards him. Blasts of light and sounds which reminded Arrow of the Star Wars movies filled the air as the alien ground troops made their way down the street. The gap in technology was easy to see, as they wiped up what little resistance the local law enforcement tried to put up. They seemed to use highly charged plasma or some other form of energy directed weaponry, causing anyone to be unfortunate to get hit to have their innards cooked to a crisp. Arrow wasn't eager to find out what that felt like first hand, but from the screams of those gunned down in the streets by the bastards, he could tell it wasn't a pleasant experience.

However, Arrow soon discovered that even with their technology, a .50 Caliber round would stop them dead in their tracks. He tried his best to provide some sort of covering fire for those trying to escape the massacre, but there wasn't much he could do. As soon as he would blow the head off of one of the bastards, another would take its place. The handful of bodyguards assigned to protect his client were little help, as most preferred to cower down behind whatever cover they could find instead of trying to put up a fight. Amateurs, Arrow thought as he quickly loaded a new magazine into his weapon, they could at least provide a distraction for me.

Even if they would've helped, it wouldn't have done much good. There was simply too many, and they were on the brink of overrunning their position at any moment. A bodyguard next to Arrow, realizing the situation, tried to make a run for it away from the building, but he was quickly mowed down by the aliens. It seemed like they were trapped, and even Arrow began to think that his luck had run out when the sound of chopper blades caught his attention.

A UH-60 Black Hawk helicopter began to hover above the street, barely fitting in between the building. Its side door slid open and the sound of a minigun roared. The gunner was successful in mowing down the majority of the mob of aliens, forcing the remaining troops to seek cover. The pilots took advantage of this immediately and touched down on the landing pad on the roof. Arrow, his client, and two of the remaining bodyguards quickly made their way up to the roof and into the helicopter. As soon as they were loaded into the helicopter took off, the door gunner providing covering fire as they departed.

Leaning back in his seat, Arrow let loose a sigh of relief. They'd made it out. Looking over to his left, he saw the battle that raged across the city. The invaders were making quick progress, and it would be a miracle if the city would survive past the day. Whatever, I suppose. This just means more business for me-

"INCOMING!"

A blast from one of the alien ships above rocked the side of the helicopter, sending it spiraling out of control. Everyone grabbed hold of whatever available for dear life as the pilots tried to steer the helicopter into a better landing spot. They were going to crash, and most likely everyone was going to die. Arrow cursed out loud at his luck, wishing he would've just stayed home.

"BRACE FOR IMPA-"

[Syrixces]

Christopher Bryant - Beowulf

Chris woke up, his alarm going off, his nightly patrol beginning. Of course, his morning glaze immediately turned to grimace, as he sat up, unleashing a wave of pain rippling through him, bruised ribs flaring through barely wrapped gauze. He groaned, ribs pulsing in pain, toned to the same damn tone in his head, migraine, rib pain, beating to the same rhythm. He rolled over, groaning, and fell to the floor, immediately falling into his nighttime routine, pushups, situps, and crunches that would put One Punch Man to shame. He looked up, and wiped sweat from his forehead, standing up, and hitting the showers.

While his apartment wasn’t the biggest, it served his purposes well enough, providing a living space, a place to train, and somewhere to toss his junk. Walking out of the shower, steam still rising behind him, he entered the small, locked walk-in closet that served as his equipment room. Directly before him, hung his armor and suit, white carbon-fiber, titanium, teflon coat, and fiber-glass white armors, and white nylon cloth cloaks hanging on a series of extended pegs. On either wall beside it hung a series of weapons, swords, maces, axes, hammers, shurikens, nunchucks, knives, handguns, shotguns, rifles, etc. Humming to himself, and smiling, he suited up, strapping sword and mace his side, and walking out to his 43rd floor balcony, throwing the curtains wide open, revealing a dark, Chicago night sky.

Leaping off the building, he thrust up a gauntleted hand, casting a grappling line, swinging through the cool, dark air, before being stopping short, and cutting off the line, flying to the top of the next building, his helmet scanning any and all police chatter in the city vicinity. Of course, it was Chicago, so violence was of no shortage here. Messages of robberies, car jacking, muggings in progress, and then, just what he needed. A shooting. Thank god. And he thought it was going to be a boring night. Dropping to the alley way below, he slipped down to the garage he kept in hiding in an empty tenement. Sliding down the brick facade of the building side, rappelling down his grapple, he crawled in through the 14th story window, arriving in his makeshift garage. Motorcycles, cars, buggies, a helicopter, and even a motherfucking Canadair CF - 5 warbird jet. Everything he would ever need, just in case of a - his thoughts were interrupted by a beeping form his security channel, as his monitors on the wall cut to the ongoing emergency situation outside.

Aliens. Of course. Looks lke he'd be using the plane today after all, huh? The roof of the building slid open, as he climbed into his near ancient fighter jet, pretty cheap regardless of its age, and started up the take of process, warming up the guns, and preparing his parachute, in the highly likely chance he'd be forced into an emergency exit.

3.2.1. Take off.

Soaring at a raging Mach 1.92, he burst through the sound barrier, entering the stratosphere within moments, priming his weapons, and flipping the switch, unloading payload one, an Archer missile pod opening up, and unloading dozens of smaller explosive fragments towards the incoming ships.

He just hoped they were the Marvin the Martian kind. Death rays are one thing, Predator, a whole nother class of scary.

[Charmera]

Madworld

(Image)

Theme

The King of the Parahumans seat peacefully upon his throne, the massive expanse of the royal court dimly lit despite the daylight hour. A series of couriers and nobles had stated their business before King Michael Morningstar, the monarch growing increasingly absent-minded in the proceedings, hand waving most of the messages away. To his left hand side was Maddox Shatterstar, a robust and stout Parahuman, gifted with immense power and strength beyond measure, while to his right was the righteous Otto Godblessed, the moral compass of the King and Court. Both took their jobs seriously and handled them with respect, but their senses perked up as a courier rushed into the halls of Cathedral Terra.

"My Lord! My Lord!" The messenger cried, breathing heavily and sparing no time in reaching the ears of the King, collapsing to his knees in both exhaustion and in reverence. "Our atmospheric scans indicate a large and unknown force entering the exosphere, Majesty, of sizable number and alien design." The courier bowed his head further, "War Eagle reports that he is dispatching a task force of Thunderbirds to the Azores to deal with the incursion."

"Bah." Thundered the Mad King, "War Eagle can have the Eastern Hemisphere for all I care. Ready a division of the Forever Knights." Michael leaned and told Shatterstar, who nodded and quickly disappeared from sight due to his remarkable speed. "Otto, I will leave the Court to your jurisdiction, as I will form a strike team to deal with the threats that War Eagle has decided were not worth his time. Ready my warships."

Otto stooped slightly in a bow, "Yes, Majesty, but I imagine the metahumans of North America will have their area firmly covered."

"Leaving South America to my protection." Michael stated firmly, rising from his Throne, "Valkyrie!" He yelled, descending his steps and coming onto the floor of the Court, a beautiful, blonde Parahuman woman descending before the King seemingly out of nowhere and kneeling deeply, driving her sword into the ground at her side. "Val, ready the Valkyrie Squadron. We will depart in ten minutes."

Val rose to her feet and nodded, "Yes, Majesty." She declared, lifting herself into the air and flying out of the palace, Michael walking steadily behind, but turning before he exited, and entered the vast catacombs of Cathedral Terra. Making his way to his private chambers, Michael took a look at his vast private collection of artifacts and items of power, some of which were just props and pieces of technology, but some of which were very real and very potent. Michael stopped in front of a plain spear, but continued walking after deciding it was not the time yet. He entered his chamber and grabbed his helmet from his bed, Morningstar putting it on and powering it up.

---

A small squadron of floating vessels had assembled at the Tropic of Cancer, surrounded by several floating groups of men and women. Standing aboard the roof of a floating vessel, the King of the Parahumans spoke fiercely so that his voice could be heard over the high winds. "We will enter the continent at Georgetown, where the Valkyrie Squadron will be given authority over the Amazon Basin and everything to the north of it. The remaining forces will then split, with one squadron to push into the Bolivian Plateau headed by Shatterstar, and another squadron to push towards Rio de Janeiro, after which, it will pivot south towards the Rio de la Plata, lead by me. Ensure heads-up displays are functional and constant communication is needed to understand the threat posed by the invading forces. Operation Able Sentry begins now."

At his urging, the groups spread themselves and flew south towards the continent, Michael's party leading the way and accelerating rapidly across the Amazonian landscape, several ships and flying personnel leaving the group according to the Op, reaching the heart of the Amazon and spreading themselves out thinly to cover a wide-area, waiting for the moment of contact to begin their theater. Accelerating into the Andean Mountains, Shatterstar and his ship group split off, spreading themselves along the continental spine and deep into Mato Grosso. Finally, Morningstar's final group veered east, securing the skies of Brasilia, Sao Paulo, and finally Rio itself.

Suddenly, chatter began on the Parahuman lines of communication as hostile alien contact was held between members of the Valkyrie Squadron in Colombia and with Shatterstar's brigade in Bolivia. Morningstar himself came upon a massive warship without warning off the coast of Sao Paulo, attempting communication first and foremost. The lines of data sent were either not received or ignored, as the alien warship made no move for several minutes. Again, the Mad King tried to contact the vessel, but this time, a reply of energy blasts and warheads were given.

Morningstar gave the order and unleashed his Forever Knight air squadrons against the alien vessel, their absorption shields protecting them from bombardment and clearing the skies of the smaller alien craft in a coordinated fashion. Flight-able Forever Knights played critical roles as well, destroying the opposition without much difficulty. Status reports across the three theaters of operation stated the same - Parahumanity was devastating the alien invasion forces. "It seems too easy." Michael declared, removing himself from the command chair of a fast-attack airship. "Any information on other fronts across the globe?"

All that could be shown so far was War Eagle's operations in the Northeast Atlantic, from Ireland down to Morocco, which he was decisively winning as well, his automated armada of winged golems, also known as Thunderbirds, doing the heavy lifting. If that was the case, it seems like the aliens are piss-poor planners at invading a planet... Or that this isn't the main invasion areas. Michael began to crawl through information through the internet, finding higher encounters and interactions on North America's West Coast. "California seems to be the real hotspot." He said to himself, not noticing as his vessel crept into over the Rio de la Plata, coming into view of foreign combatants hailing from Antarctica.

These foreign vessels seemed not dissimilar to aliens themselves, being large hovering discs colored white like the snow of their homeland. With swarms of fighter drones hovering around these discs, they seemed almost like beehives. The discs seemed to vary in size depending on the ship class, but all of them merely hung in the air, as if waiting. Ships from the alien invasion which approached them were swiftly torn apart by particle beams and swarms upon swarms of fighter craft. When engaged, the discs showed their ability to swiftly teleport altitude to expose enemy ships to the full brunt of either their bottom or top particle beams, however they seemed to hover back to their previous altitude without the same swiftness, as if their translocation required a cooldown time.

Suddenly a transmission was sent to the parahumans, across communication channels between the two forces.

---

“President Alexandria. We have come into contact with the foreign forces as you anticipated.” Spoke an attendant. They sat aboard 'The Enlightenment' the flagship of the first Heliopolis fleet. “What are your orders?”

Alexandria paused. She stood on the bridge, not favored by a command chair or throne, yet still the difference between here and the regular heliopolite could be seen. Her sheer presence was hard to ignore, perhaps a side effect of her considerable psychic abilities.

“Let Horus talk to them first. Gauge their reaction.” Spoke Alexandria as she smiled. “This should prove most interesting…”

---

“Greeting Strangers” went the voice message that came with the request for communications. “I am Commander Horus of the First Heliopolis Fleet. Current the skies of south America are under the protection of the Heliopolis Union. Your aid is not necessary here.”

[Pantorrum]

Psionis
Near Downtown Los Angeles

---

It was a sight to behold. Without sending a message or attempting to speak with Alazar, the aliens opened fire. A whole array of weapons lit up the city around him, leveling several moderate sized buildings not to far away. The fire continued as they let lose a ruthless attack. The world shattering explosions rocked Psionis' mind, making it difficult for him to focus on using any of his psionic abilities. It was impossible to conjure an illusion and bring a thought to life. It was impossible for his horrified brain to even send a message to the invaders. And for several minutes, he stood there, trying to focus, but failing time and time again. More people all around him were killed as he stood there, to shocked and distraught to act at all. His fear had grabbed control of him. The fear of imminent failure, and insurmountable hurtle that would be the end of him. But the scream of a little girl as a building came falling down on her snapped him angrily back to reality. A tear ran down over his small mask (which served little purpose at all, really). He looked up at the ship, still fearful, but now willing to move. For at last, the mental screams and cries of hundreds of perishing souls rang out in his mind. Psionis could hear them, all around where he was. People fears. Their whole world, coming down on them.

Suddenly, he levitated into the sky, rapidly accelerating to almost 300 feet high before coming to an abrupt and unexpected stop. he was now just a few hundred feet ben beneath the gargantuan hull of the alien vessel. It's strange texture and protruding devices riddled his mind. He stared at it for a second, wondering what made the ship work. How did it travel so far? What was it made of? All questions he, like everyone else, couldn't help but think. Even at a time like this, when massive ships descend to conquer the Earth, the human mind could not help but try and fathom the greatness and technological advancement of something like this. But, his thoughts were cut short. He continued to think of the thousands that were dying, and realized he had wasted far to long already.

The ship he was facing was at the head of a wedge formation, with 1 ship directly behind and 2 diagonally to the rear on each side. Within this particular formation, the largest ship was between the three smaller ones on the outside. That was, what Psionis assumed at least, the command ship for this particular squadron. And it was quite impressive. he guessed it had to stretch nearly a kilometer long. And such a monstrous ship, so large and fearsome, should most definitely house a higher ranking alien than the smaller ships. Determined to bring down the bigger one first, he flew above it, dodging laser (or perhaps plasma, he really wasn't sure) blasts. He barely missed most of them, which he wasn't sure of why. It could be due to their inaccuracy, or his skill. he would like to think his skill, but he knew full and well it was a little bit of both.

As he reached the very middle of the ships top hull, he levitated a few more feet up, and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and held both his hands out, the palms facing down and the fingers held straight out. With a sudden outburst of air from his lungs, he began to telekinetically push down on the beastly vessel with all his might. And it seemed to be working. The alien warship began to sink toward the ground, gaining momentum with every passing second. It wasn't long before the ship was losing altitude fairly quickly. But, about the same time, the alien crew must have turned up the power. Psionis began to struggle as the ship started to push back upward, gaining a few feet on him every second.

He didn't give up, though. He kept pushing with all he had, focusing all of his power on pushing the ship down. From time to time he managed to budge it down, but the ship would always push back, lurching back in forth between the same altitudes. It was unable to rise any more, but Alazar couldn't push it down, either. This game of tug-o-war continued for several minutes as the ship blasted more and more lives away. And, eventually, of course, the ship started to win. It's fuel source was obviously more abundant than Psionis' bodies fuel source. And his energy had been depleted. There was no doubt, he wasn't going to bring the ship down this way. In fact, it rose back to altitude so quickly, it ran into him, smashing him down on the hull surface.
"Damn," he cursed. "I've got to find a way to get this ship down!"

The force pushing down on him was to great to overcome, at least until the alien ship leveled off again at the correct altitude. Now able to rise, he got another idea. he shot back off into the air, dodging several other laser shots that whizzed past him. The whining sound of the ships cannons as they fired was defining if you got to close. But finally, he reached the rear of the ship.
If I can't push you down, he thought, then I will just have to make you go down on your own!

He reached out with telekinesis, and began ripping apart the ships rear engines. This particular vessel had 5 engines, the largest in the middle. And Psionis intended to rip all of them out. One by one, he slowly ripped the engines off, all while struggling to keep up with the ship. First the farthest left one. Then the farthest right. He worked his way in, and soon enough, he was on the final engine. The smoking slots where the old engines had been were choking him, though, which made it difficult to stay for much longer. He would have to rush, but he could get it done. But, of course, things got more complicated. Small fighter craft shot out of the ships side, the small craft swooping around and opening fire on him. One laser got so close it gave a bit of a bad burn on his left leg, searing the clothing above it and leaving the skin burning hot. Grabbing his leg, he screamed with agony as the small, drone like craft came around for another run.

Psionis knew they were far to fast for him to dodge, and there were to many to take out. If they kept blasting at him, he would never bring down the ship. The only good part about it was that the rest of the small fleet squadron had broken apart, all heading in spate directions. But that did little to help his current situation. He had to find a way to eliminate those drones and this ship, before they eliminated him. And he had run out of time to come up with something. As he heard the whine of the small drones as they came around, he shifted all his focus into making a telekinetic shield around him. Roughly a dozen blasts struck it, delivering shattering blows that shook him and the small orb or energy. By the 12th one it had begun to crack. The small crack drew Psionis' attention, and he strated to become afraid that it would break. And he started to think about the thousands below that he would have failed. But of course that didn't help. The moment he took his thoughts off the shield, it disappeared into thin air, leaving him vulnerable to the 3rd run they were about to make.

Finally, he got an idea. If the fighters were powerful enough to crack a moderately strong shield, they were definitely strong enough to blast that last ship to pieces. As they came around and opened fire on him, he stopped levitating himself and went plummeting down toward the ground. Telekinetically pushing himself down, all while being aided by gravity, he fell like a rock. He shot down just as the lasers were released, and nearly half of them struck the final engine. The fiery explosion that resulted as he fell toward the ground was astounding. The lasers not only had struck the engine, but some missed and ignited the leaking fuel from where the other engines had been removed. the chain reaction had spread through the ship, blowing it to pieces and sending shrapnel...toward the city...

As he realized this, he decided he had no choice. He hated teleporting. It made him feel strange inside, as if he ceased to exist for a moment. The odd sensation kept him from teleporting at all, really. But if he was to get down there in time to stop the debris from killing thousands more, he would have to teleport. He was falling to the side and at an angle, and the debris was falling straight down. he closed his eyes, and in a flash of light, he vanished, reappearing beneath the falling debris. Steading himself, he adjusted his speed to stay within the debris of shrapnel. Closing his eyes and extending his arms to the side, he started to strain. With everything he had, he started to slow down the shrapnel. Little by little, he managed to slow them down. But it took a serious strain to do so. His muscles were tensed up and sweat dripped from his face. He panted and took deep, difficult breaths. But it was all worth it as the debris came to a halt, along with himself mid air. It was far easier to hold up still objects than it was to stop 10,000 falling ones. And he was just in time. A second later and they would've slammed into a building.

Just beneath him, a helicopter came crashing down, skidding across the middle of a now abandoned street, smashing through debris and cars left lazily in the middle of the road. Smoke and flamed shot up from the downed bird. And what made matters worse, roughly 100 alien troops were charging toward it from down the street. he wasn't sure if anyone was alive in the chopper, but he wasn't about to risk being wrong. he aimed his hand at the oncoming invaders as he lowered himself (and the debris) between them and the downed helicopter. Suddenly, without even twitching a finger of his outstretched hand, the thousands of pieces of shrapnel split into hundreds of thousands of tiny pieces as they flew through the air at immense speeds. They tore through the oncoming aliens, ripping them to pieces in a gory scene of death and blood. The shrapnel had proved useful.

Turning around quickly, he levitated toward the helicopter and rapidly lowered himself to the ground. He landed a little rough, and he dropped to a knee as he held his leg. he had forgotten, for a moment, about his leg. but, as he well knew, pain had a way of always reminding you it was there. Slowly, he rose up, and limped toward the helicopter. He outstretched a hand toward the smoking vehicles side door, and it flung off, flying through the air like a toy before smashing into rock debris behind him. If anyone had survived that crash, they would exit to see a gory side, as pieces of shrapnel stuck out of almost 100 carcasses that lined the street.

[Altito Asmoro]

Rex Beast/RX-01
San Fransisco

It was a chaos. All around, SFPD and National Guard had been mobilized according to the news, with SFPD finest on the streets directing the citizens for evacuations. While the spaceships had made their way to Cali, few already landed in some of their...troops. And even as the SFPD valiantly held them off while waiting for reinforcements, it is as if the resistance was a futile one. The aliens shot what could be possibly looked on as green-colored plasma shot, with the SFPD officers taking covers.

Was only a matter of time before they got crushed, so now is the time.

KAMEN RIDER RX-01!

The motorbike of his ran into the sky after a jump from the ramp, and it landed safely on the streets, where aliens are right in front of him.

"Have no fear citizens! For I, RX-01, savior of humanity and justice!" in which he started the fight with a full-powered kick to the face of an alien, it pushed him far enough and hit the bus not far from the battle. The aliens, decided to fought RX-01 with plasma weapons, but RX-01 able to evaded some, their attacks aren't permanently damaged, but enough to put him down if he was hit some.

"Rider Kick!" RX-01 jumped to the sky, and pulled a kick-position into a few group of aliens, and it crashed upon them, at least able to kill few of them. The remaining aliens, feared of what happened but wanted to push, fire some more, while SFPD bravely supported RX-01.

"Fight! For mankind!"

A brave and loud chant.

[WaRtArIa]

It was a normal evening for Charlotte, who was currently at home in her apartment after a long day of work. Only mere hours ago, Charlotte had fended off two burglars, who were attempting to rob a woman of her purse. She had to electrocute the two, who seemed to be much hardier and braver than most burglars. Most of the people she faced would run away after two hits, and then get caught by the policemen. That routine was really really really repetitive, and could be rather tiring at times. After using her powers, Charlotte would feel pain, be drained, and then feel hungry.

Speaking of being hungry, it was dinnertime, at least for Charlotte. Her long and busy work schedule altered Charlotte’s activities, and sadly enough, saving helpless damsels in distress do not provide income. It was a thankless job, but at least sometimes it could be interesting. There was much to study about the patterns of her enemies. There were new fighting styles, new ways of thinking, and more. In the modern age, time will continue to advance, and quickly at that. Just like it does in any other time period.

Slouching back against the couch, Charlotte thankfully took her opportunity to relax, her steaming plate of dinner resting in her lap. The dinner was heaped with buttered mashed potatoes with gravy, juicy sirloin steak, steamed artichoke hearts, and a small serving of corn. It was a healthy and filling meal, and her day had drained her so much, anything seemed enjoyable. Enjoyable foods were even more enjoyable. That was the nature of feeling hungry, obviously.

Dipping her spoon in her little combination of corn and mashed potatoes, Charlotte lifted the spoon to her mouth, taking her precious time to enjoy what she had. With her occupations, she could lose everything in mere moments, and thus she had to appreciate her own life, if only to feel better about herself. Being a waitress was frankly a crappy job, and being a superhero does not grant you free healthcare. Damn you, ‘Murica, for your shitty healthcare. Damn you.

Using her other hand, Charlotte reached below the couch cushions, where she was sure that she had lost her remote. For some reason, remotes always get stuck there, somehow. No matter what place, remotes would always get stuck under couch cushions at least once, as long as there was a couch for the remote to get stuck in.

Apparently, Charlotte was a person to notice many things.

And true to my word, that observation was not wrong at all. Who am I? Oh, I’m just the narrator. I am the one to show you Charlotte’s side of the story. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a lemony narrator, because that’s just depraved and gross. Plus, unlike you, I totally have a life. Yeah. I’m a cool narrator, unlike those other lameass buckos. Actually, it depends on my mood, but still. Please, let’s just get back to the story, before the Nargles sense the disturbance in the force and hunt us down. Oh! There’s one right behind you! Don’t worry, they’re usually friendly. Erm... usually, but you should be fine. Just watch your sock drawer carefully. Alright, we should get back to the story—for real, this time.

Charlotte had turned on the television, using the remot that she was holding in her hand. Yawning, she carefully watched the television screen, switching the current channel into the new’s channel. What she saw made her drop her fork, her jaw dropping to the ground. There was a space alien invasion, and some other heroes that she was observing before... they were here to fight them. And why not join the party, eh? There was plenty of good reason to go join them.

First, Charlotte’s the big damn hero, who’s supposed to fight evil space villains. After all, it’s her job. Second, there were alien spaceships, and alien spaceships are very interesting. Third, the heroes that Charlotte was studying all seemed to be present here. And fourth, the world is probably going to be colonized by hordes of greys if Charlotte didn’t do anything. That series of logic was all Charlotte needed for her to take action. Stripping her clothing (teeheehee) and stuffing them under an armchair, Charlotte put on her costume, making sure her utility belt was still there. Thankfully, she didn’t forget the belt, this time. You know, to her, it was like Batman’s utility belt, only less cool. It was still important, however.

And with that, Charlotte jumped out the window. Despite taking that foolish and badass action, she was perfectly fine. Charlotte lives on the first floor of her apartment, anyways, and the short drop can’t really do much to her. Charlotte is pain-resistant and durable, anyways. Running out into the streets, Charlotte feasted her eyes on the dreams of crazy science fiction fanatics (particularly those fans of the Kaiju type—from now on, we’re going to call the invaders Kaiju, or maybe Weeaboo.) Aliens were pouring onto the street, and even the military couldn’t handle this mess. Instead, they evacuated groups of panicking citizens, who were scuttling away from their alien pursuers.

Charlotte did a dramatic battlecry and charged towards some of the plasma-weapon-wielding aliens. She wanted to help RX-01, and the work would be much easier with another hero to help. "IT IS I, BLITZ! LEEEEEEROY JENKIIINS!" Charging her fist with weak magic shmagick lightning energy, Charlotte successfully slashed the flesh of one of the Kaiju, and to be honest, that ugly abomination looked PISSED.

Wait, why would those space aliens even use plasma weapons? Plasma's slower than bullets, anyways, and just imagine how fucking slow they are in space. It's pointless, but I admit, they do look pretty cool.

[Asterdan]

Lewis Stacey, Wereman
Los Angelos, California

Somewhere in the city, in a rather normal seeming apartment, a man sat in the middle of his bedroom, his legs crossed as he meditated, calming the Wild Beast that still lived within him. Lewis had been practicing techniques learned during his time with the druids of Europe. As he took a deep breath he inhaled the fumes of incense and... bacon. DAMNIT!!! HE HAD LEFT THE OVEN ON! Jumping to his feet he ran to the little kitchenette, smoke starting to feel the apartment as he turned off the oven, moved the pan with the bacon in it, and rushed to the window. He opened it quickly and fanned the smoke out the window. That's when he looked up and saw the giant spaceship in the sky.

"I'm gonna have to go help, aren't I?" he asked himself, running a hand through his hair as he glanced over at the robes and mask before quickly donning both.

Jumping out the window, the the robe and mask seemingly merged with his body as his body began to change. His nose and mouth combined, jutting forward and curving into a beak as his arms and legs grew long and slender. A feather outline seemed to appear along his body, robes and mask including, before rising and becoming true feathers. After a few seconds there wasn't a man in robes and a mask flying towards the ground, there was a half-man, half-eagle, a Wereeagle, soaring through the air, no mask or robes in sight.

Lewis, or 'Wereman' as he was wanting to be called, flew through the air, flapping his mighty wings until he reached the center of the city. It was chaos, and other superhumans were already fighting the alien creatures.

"If only dragons were real," he thought aloud before letting out a fearsome screech, flying directly towards the ships, stopping short as a helicopter flew past him, "Hey watch it!"

He flew down to the ground, in the direction the helicopter had come from. Surely there would be some injured nearby, and he figured he needed to help them first, let the more experienced heroes take on the aliens and help where he could. Landing, he called out to the anyone who could hear him.

"Everyone alright?" yelling to anyone who may need assistance and could here the wereeagle creature.

[New Finnish Republic]

Arrow
Downton Los Angeles

A dark room. Two men dressed conservatively in business suits approach him and hand him a file that reads CLASSIFIED in large red print. One of the men indicated for him to open the file up. On the first page is some kind of logo. It depicts the figures of what appear to be two men. One of the figures lays on the ground, seemingly defeated, while the other stands above him with his shield raised as if he's protecting the man below him.

"Have you ever heard of the tale of Beowulf? It's an old Anglo-Saxon epic that dates back hundreds of years. Its protagonist is a man named Beowulf, who is immensely powerful. He defeats monsters with his bare hands, does feats of strength that no one else could match, and ruled his people into an age of prosperity. He preferred to do things by himself, as anyone else would either get in the way or be easily killed by whatever Beowulf decided to slay that day. However, as Beowulf got older, he began to realize that this could not continue. In his last battle against a mighty dragon, he assembled the best of his warriors to accompany him. Beowulf fought bravely, but his men were too afraid of the dragon's might that they did come to rescue their leader. However, one warrior found the courage. His name was Wiglaf, a young warrior that proved to have much promise. Together, he and Beowulf defeated the dragon.

There are some who quite like this tale. Not because of Beowulf, but because of how Wiglaf was willing to risk his life against a beast that had bested the greatest warrior man had ever produced. And with his help, they were able to slay the beast. Those people liked this tale so much, that it gave them the inspiration. If the United States, the greatest military power in the world, would come across an enemy it could not slay alone, who could become its Wiglaf. The answer to that was the creation of Group 411.

Group 411 is comprised of the best of the best from the United States military. We act as a separate entity from the United States, meaning that we are not restricted by the whims of politicians who like to act like war is a game that one should play fairly. With the help of Group 411, we've been able to track down and eliminate some of the biggest threats to our nation, from rogue terrorist elements to hostile regimes hell-bent on destroying the lives of every American.

We've seen your credentials. Three tours in Iraq and two in Afghanistan, as well as action in various hotspots around the world. You've served your country well, and we thank you for that. However, we think that you can accomplish much more. We're asking you to join our organization, Group 411, as a Designated Marksman. We'll give you training, equipment, and enhancements like you've never seen before. You'll become the perfect soldier, a hunter of those who would do evil to our great nation."

The other man stepped forward.

"There's only one requirement: The current you will cease to exist. You will be "killed" off, your records wiped, and you will not be able to contact any of your friends or family members that you once knew. We understand that it's a heavy price to pay, but I assure you, it's worth it."

The man crossed his arms.

"So what do you say?"

He thought about it for some time, before a smile slowly made its way across his face.

"I'm your man."

"Excellent. Thank you, once again, First Sergeant-"

Arrow woke up with a gasp as he gained consciousness. What the hell was that? He wondered, as his eyes took in the scene around him. It was dark, but he could make the outlines of bent metal and...bodies? The helicopter... His memories came flooding back into him. Their helicopter had gotten hit as they had tried to make their escape. Arrow looked around the inside of the chopper. It appeared that he was the sole survivor of the crash, most likely due to his protective armor. Still, just because he lived didn't mean he didn't hurt like hell.

With a grunt, he shifted his body around so that he could onto his feet, albeit all he could manage to accomplish was a low squat. He flexed the various parts of his body to ensure no major injuries had been made. He was sore as hell and he could bet that he had a busted rib or two in the crash, but for the most part, he was okay. His vital scans on his heads-up display indicated more or less the same. Groping around in the darkness, he found his rifle laying next to him. Reaching down at his waist, he felt the outline of his pistol as well as his knife and his various assortment of grenades.

He tested the side door to see if he could get it to budge. He couldn't get it to budge, however. The crash must have smashed it shut. While on a good day he might have been able to force it open, in his current banged up state, he was effectively trapped inside. Frustrated, he kicked the door several times before groaning in defeat. He'd have to sit tight for the time being, he supposed, and wait for him to gather his strength back up before he tried anythi-

Without warning, the door suddenly ripped off the side of the helicopter. Light shined through the now open side of the Black Hawk. Arrow squinted, his eyes needing to adjust to the sudden increase of light. Once they did, he saw a man standing in front of him, covered in sweat, dirt, and blood. And in a costume. Son of a bitch, not one of these clowns...

Arrow hated these damn superheroes. They always acted holier-than-though towards him, and most of them thought he was nothing more than a gun for hire, willing to do whatever for whomever as long as there was cash involved. While that wasn't totally false, Arrow wasn't a heartless bastard. He still had his morals, and he knew right from wrong. He just was willing to put a bullet in the head of those who commited more wrongs than rights.

"Thanks wonder boy. Now, if you excuse me I have some business to attend t- DUCK!"

The man, albeit confused, complied. Just in the nick of time, as an alien soldier fired a blast right over where his head would have been. Not hesitating for a second, Arrow reached for his waist and pulled out his P226 and let the alien eat several rounds of .357 SIG. The creature dropped like a sack of potatoes. The man dubbed by Arrow as "Wonder Boy" seemed appreciative of the warning, and looked as if he was about that thank him. However...

"Not now Wonder Boy! We've got company!'

Coming from where the previous one had appeared from, a substantial force of alien ground troops came charging in. With them were what appeared to be several alien tanks. Arrow cursed out loud before rushing over to the nearest cover, laser fire already filing the air around him. As he loaded a new magazine into his pistol, Arrow looked over to his "rescuer".

"Well don't just stand there you idiot! Either help me kill the bastards or get the hell out of here!"

[New Neros]

“Greeting Strangers” went the voice message that came with the request for communications. “I am Commander Horus of the First Heliopolis Fleet. Current the skies of south America are under the protection of the Heliopolis Union. Your aid is not necessary here.”

Morningstar

A fortress of steel and circuits housed the Mad King of the Parahumans, his flotilla operating at half of it's usual tonnage for the Parahuman High Fleet due to their spreading across the South American continent. The modern airship was possible thanks to advances in shielding and missile technology, allowing for supremacy over the skies of most human nations in a moment's notice, but aboard the command deck of The Indomitable, Michael Morningstar tightened his jaw. The King sat upon a technologically advanced throne aboard his flagship, overseeing the constant flow of information that poured through the device, issuing it out orders to his subordinates by thought alone.

As the ships moved into the Rio de la Plata as they exited Uruguay, an urgent foreign signal was dispatched - originating from the First Heliopolis Fleet, stationed across the massive river in Argentina. Michael processed the information quickly and then received direct word from the Commander, aptly named Horus. Michael quickly returned his voice message. "Well met, Commander. I am Michael Morningstar, King of the Parahumans and Lord Commander of the Parahuman High Fleet, among other things. I would advise you to retreat to the fortieth parallel south, as my Forever Knight legions have secured the northern sections of this continent from hostile invasion."

"Your forces will do well to watch over Patagonia, Commander Horus. Madworld and her Parahumans have accomplished her goal of visible protection across South America up until this point, and your interference in that will not be appreciated. Rather, your aid in continued protection and oversight shall be rewarded. Thank you.

[Pantorrum]

Psionis
Downtown LA, California

---

Psionis had been, indeed, a bit confused when the rescued...mercenary, he supposed...told him to duck. He was going to ask why, at first, but then decided in a split second that something must be behind him. Giving the man the benefit of the doubt, he had bent over just as the mercenary killed the alien creature he hadn't even heard behind him. But before he could give any thanks for what had happened, and offer assistance to the man, a fresh army of ground troops began an approach. Before Psionis could even lift off the ground, this mysterious man was already behind cover and engaging the onslaught of alien forces.

In response to his statement, Psionis gave only a nod before he shot off into the air. He came to a gradual halt, trying to take things a little easier on his wounded leg. He could almost still smell the singed clothing, as if it was still on fire. But he knew it wasn't. Regardless of how powerful his mind was, it could still play tricks on him. He tried to ignore the mounting pain that had started to grow since he landed a little to hard earlier. It was difficult, but he had endured worse things. Both physically and mentally.

He held up both his hands, placing the pointer and middle finger of both sides onto his temples. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, they were glowing a bright white, staring at a the aliens below. Suddenly, four 7 story apartment buildings ripped slowly out of the ground. They levitated about 30 feet in the air, seemingly holding steady over the army of soldiers that stared up in shock at them. But before they could make a move, 2 of the buildings slammed down to the ground behind them, one on top of another. they slammed with such force that they completely exploded in a cloud of dust and debris. he did the same with the other two, except those he dropped on a street coming in at a T to the one they were on. When the dust settled, the Aliens were cut off from reinforcements by a 20 foot high, jagged wall of rebar, concrete, and brick. There was no escape, either. At least not through the roads. The only exist was on the other side of the helicopter.

"No escape now, Alien scum," he said in almost a whisper. "And no help from your friends." He took his fingers from his temples and slowly touched back down on the ground, a Telekinetic Shield around him that absorbed the blow of several lasers. "Hey, I need to borrow a bullet," he said to the merc firing beside him. Without warning, the next bullet that left his gun suddenly flew at a 90 degree angle from the direction it had been fired, as it fell under the telekinetic control of Psionis. Having shifted his focus, the shield disappeared, leaving him vulnerable to attack. But that wasn't going to be to big of a problem. The bullet blasted forward, zigzagging with near lightning speed through the army of soldier until it reached the other side of the force and came to an abrupt stop. Just as it stopped moving, 30 aliens dropped to the ground, holes in the middle of their forehead.

Then, 4 of the alien vehicles were ripped up into the air, flying sideways violently into a 20 story building on the other side of the street. The debris from the collisions came crashing down on dozens of alien troops. Psionis continued zigzagging the bullet through the air, piercing dozens more alien soldiers before the bullet came to a halt. But this time it fell to the ground just as psionis did. A laser had struck him in the side, the sheer force of the blast knocking him down. The burn afterwards left him on the ground in agonizing pain. He had gotten to carried away ripping tanks out of the ground and dropping buildings. He hadn't even thought about how he was standing in the clear open. Psionis often got carried away with things he was doing, it definitely wasn't unlike him. But he had never gotten injured like this before. The sharp pain from the blast irradiated throughout his entire body.

[Asterdan]

Arrow
Downton Los Angeles

A dark room. Two men dressed conservatively in business suits approach him and hand him a file that reads CLASSIFIED in large red print. One of the men indicated for him to open the file up. On the first page is some kind of logo. It depicts the figures of what appear to be two men. One of the figures lays on the ground, seemingly defeated, while the other stands above him with his shield raised as if he's protecting the man below him.

"Have you ever heard of the tale of Beowulf? It's an old Anglo-Saxon epic that dates back hundreds of years. Its protagonist is a man named Beowulf, who is immensely powerful. He defeats monsters with his bare hands, does feats of strength that no one else could match, and ruled his people into an age of prosperity. He preferred to do things by himself, as anyone else would either get in the way or be easily killed by whatever Beowulf decided to slay that day. However, as Beowulf got older, he began to realize that this could not continue. In his last battle against a mighty dragon, he assembled the best of his warriors to accompany him. Beowulf fought bravely, but his men were too afraid of the dragon's might that they did come to rescue their leader. However, one warrior found the courage. His name was Wiglaf, a young warrior that proved to have much promise. Together, he and Beowulf defeated the dragon.

There are some who quite like this tale. Not because of Beowulf, but because of how Wiglaf was willing to risk his life against a beast that had bested the greatest warrior man had ever produced. And with his help, they were able to slay the beast. Those people liked this tale so much, that it gave them the inspiration. If the United States, the greatest military power in the world, would come across an enemy it could not slay alone, who could become its Wiglaf. The answer to that was the creation of Group 411.

Group 411 is comprised of the best of the best from the United States military. We act as a separate entity from the United States, meaning that we are not restricted by the whims of politicians who like to act like war is a game that one should play fairly. With the help of Group 411, we've been able to track down and eliminate some of the biggest threats to our nation, from rogue terrorist elements to hostile regimes hell-bent on destroying the lives of every American.

We've seen your credentials. Three tours in Iraq and two in Afghanistan, as well as action in various hotspots around the world. You've served your country well, and we thank you for that. However, we think that you can accomplish much more. We're asking you to join our organization, Group 411, as a Designated Marksman. We'll give you training, equipment, and enhancements like you've never seen before. You'll become the perfect soldier, a hunter of those who would do evil to our great nation."

The other man stepped forward.

"There's only one requirement: The current you will cease to exist. You will be "killed" off, your records wiped, and you will not be able to contact any of your friends or family members that you once knew. We understand that it's a heavy price to pay, but I assure you, it's worth it."

The man crossed his arms.

"So what do you say?"

He thought about it for some time, before a smile slowly made its way across his face.

"I'm your man."

"Excellent. Thank you, once again, First Sergeant-"

Arrow woke up with a gasp as he gained consciousness. What the hell was that? He wondered, as his eyes took in the scene around him. It was dark, but he could make the outlines of bent metal and...bodies? The helicopter... His memories came flooding back into him. Their helicopter had gotten hit as they had tried to make their escape. Arrow looked around the inside of the chopper. It appeared that he was the sole survivor of the crash, most likely due to his protective armor. Still, just because he lived didn't mean he didn't hurt like hell.

With a grunt, he shifted his body around so that he could onto his feet, albeit all he could manage to accomplish was a low squat. He flexed the various parts of his body to ensure no major injuries had been made. He was sore as hell and he could bet that he had a busted rib or two in the crash, but for the most part, he was okay. His vital scans on his heads-up display indicated more or less the same. Groping around in the darkness, he found his rifle laying next to him. Reaching down at his waist, he felt the outline of his pistol as well as his knife and his various assortment of grenades.

He tested the side door to see if he could get it to budge. He couldn't get it to budge, however. The crash must have smashed it shut. While on a good day he might have been able to force it open, in his current banged up state, he was effectively trapped inside. Frustrated, he kicked the door several times before groaning in defeat. He'd have to sit tight for the time being, he supposed, and wait for him to gather his strength back up before he tried anythi-

Without warning, the door suddenly ripped off the side of the helicopter. Light shined through the now open side of the Black Hawk. Arrow squinted, his eyes needing to adjust to the sudden increase of light. Once they did, he saw a man standing in front of him, covered in sweat, dirt, and blood. And in a costume. Son of a bitch, not one of these clowns...

Arrow hated these damn superheroes. They always acted holier-than-though towards him, and most of them thought he was nothing more than a gun for hire, willing to do whatever for whomever as long as there was cash involved. While that wasn't totally false, Arrow wasn't a heartless bastard. He still had his morals, and he knew right from wrong. He just was willing to put a bullet in the head of those who commited more wrongs than rights.

"Thanks wonder boy. Now, if you excuse me I have some business to attend t- DUCK!"

The man, albeit confused, complied. Just in the nick of time, as an alien soldier fired a blast right over where his head would have been. Not hesitating for a second, Arrow reached for his waist and pulled out his P226 and let the alien eat several rounds of .357 SIG. The creature dropped like a sack of potatoes. The man dubbed by Arrow as "Wonder Boy" seemed appreciative of the warning, and looked as if he was about that thank him. However...

"Not now Wonder Boy! We've got company!'

Coming from where the previous one had appeared from, a substantial force of alien ground troops came charging in. With them were what appeared to be several alien tanks. Arrow cursed out loud before rushing over to the nearest cover, laser fire already filing the air around him. As he loaded a new magazine into his pistol, Arrow looked over to his "rescuer".

"Well don't just stand there you idiot! Either help me kill the bastards or get the hell out of here!"

Flapping his wings Wereman took to the air, flying towards the man and the aliens. With a screech and the twist of the body, Lewis was now flying towards the creatures talons first, aiming for the heads and clamping hard, piercing the skulls. Landing beside the man, he looked down at him. The feathers were already becoming skin as his talons became hoofs.

"You alright?" he asked the man as he shifted from an eagle-like form to a more bull-like form.

The wings receded into his body as his muscle mas grew, two horns sprouting from his head. His beak became a snout as he looked towards the alien threat. This wasn't going to be easy, especially with those tank things. This was his first time ever using his powers to help people, this was definitely out of his area of expertise. Wereman looked down at the man once more, scanning him and quickly guessing this dude was either a merc or with the military. Definitely not his choice for "first outing as a superhero".

[The Republic of Atria]

Mark

Mark took off running at a full sprint. Which to him was allowing him to pass speeding traffic even if it wasn't as stalled as it was. "Glad I don't need a car..." He thought to himself and looked to the sky too see if any aliens had bothered to actually add even more injury to Chicago. There were a few, but thankfully it wasn't nearly as bad as he thought. A moderately large ship had zoomed overhead, and Mark stopped abruptly, cracking the concrete beneath his feet as he switched directions to go after the ship. He wasn't the biggest fan of his absorption power, but he felt that if he didn't use it to gather information, they'd be up shit creek without a paddle. He picked up his speed enough that his feet were cracking the ground beneath him with every footstep. He could go faster, it wasn't like he got tired, but he risked losing traction and tripping. The ship he was chasing slowed and began to descend. They didn't notice him, which was good, he'd have the drop on them.

The aliens landed their gunship, and about 10 of them stepped of it and started firing their weapons indiscriminately. They certainly didn't expect a man to leap over a few city blocks and crash about 50 feet away from them in a traditional 3 point landing. They immediately opened fire on the human who charged at them with rather shocking speed. What was even more shocking to them was the fact that despite the plasma blasts connecting and burning large portions of him off, he didn't stop or even slow and barreled right through them. With a right hook, he knocked an alien hard enough that he flew, bounced off the ground and into a car, setting off it's alarm. Mark kept up his attack, he roundhoused the alien behind him, and the second his feet were both on the ground, he jumped high into the air. The force from his leap was enough to knock the surviving aliens down, and then Mark shot towards the ground, making a shockwave many times more powerful than the previous. Knocking the aliens away. Dead or not, that wasn't his plan, he was going after the ship. Or more specifically. The pilot. He ran through and pried the sealed door off, revealing the shocked pilot.

"Howdy." Mark said, shifting his arm into a mess of tendrils and shooting it at the pilot who spoke to him in an alien tongue that he couldn't hope to comprehend. "For the record. This is gonna hurt me a lot more than it's gonna hurt you." He wasn't lying. The alien was killed painlessly via a snapped neck and his body instinctively dissolved the alien corpse into parts his body could properly absorb. Then came the unpleasant part, made many times worse since he was absorb an alien instead of a human. Humans for the most part had similar concepts that could be translated relatively easily. He absorbed an alien. Which meant his body was processing all of the alien knowledge and translating it into concepts he could understand. It was comparable to having a migraine combined with a nasty seizure that lasted for nearly a minute before he caught the memories of the man he killed. The pilot was being briefed on his mission.

"This is our target." What amounted to the Admiral of the alien armada, pointed at a holographic projection of Earth and it zoomed in near Japan pointing just south of it. "They have a powerful warbeast just sleeping. Our goal is to capture it. The problem comes with the planet's protectors. They are many and most of them are extraordinarily dangerous." He explained, with several pictures of Michael, Otis, Xander, Lung, Mako, and a number of other superhumans that Mark wasn't familiar with popping up. "We will divide their attention. Keep them busy for as long as needed to retrieve the beast. Once this is done. We will leave just as suddenly as we arrived. Attack their population centers and keep them from interfering." And then the memories ended and Mark rubbed his head. He might not have felt pain from plasma blasts or bullets. But that was one hell of a headache. He sat down in the pilot's seat and looked at the controls for a few seconds and then grinned like a child in a candy store. Flipping a few switches as if he had been doing it his entire life, which closed the hatch in the back that allowed him to entire and the ship hummed to life.

Mark firmly grabbed the controls and activated the thrusters on his new vessels. The ship shot forward at incredible speed. Mark hadn't laughed like this in his entire life. "I'm flying a fucking SPACESHIP! WOOOOOHOOOOOOO!" He shouted as the ship flew above the city at many times the speed of sound. A little more prodding of the alien's mind had them put the bulk of their invasion force around California. "Alright then you alien shitbags. Wait'll you get a load of me!"

[New Finnish Republic]

Arrow
Downtown Los Angeles

Jesus, can my day get any weirder? Arrow was about to respond to the newcomer when Wonder Boy decided to hijack his bullet. While irritated at the fact that he had just been outdone by the man, he couldn't help but be impressed by his skills. That was until the man dropped like a rock after getting hit with a shot from one of the aliens. It donned on Arrow that the man's powers were limited to what he could concentrate on. Good information to know for future reference should he ever have to fight the man. But with their current situation...

"Jesus Christ! Grab him and I'll cover you!" Arrow screamed at the newcomer as he engaged what remained of the enemy force advancing on their location. Wonder Boy had taken out a good portion of the ground troops as well as the tanks, but several dozen of the troops as well as a tank remained. Things were going to get dicey. I suppose it's time to get serious, Arrow thought as he reached for a certain item he knew was about to come in handy.

While no bigger than the average baseball, the grenade in his hand was filled with a Heptanitrocubane-based explosive compund, making it extremely powerful for its relatively small and lightweight size. Pressing a small button on the side, Arrow let out a forced breath before exiting from cover and making a throw that would have outshone Willie Mays, managed to get the grenade to land directly under the alien's remaining tank. Before the crew could react, a massive fireball expanded in their cabin, and the vehicle erupted in a massive blaze as its ammunition exploded as well.

The subsequent aftermath of that explosion left several of the ground troops dead, but Arrow could still count about a dozen of the stubborn bastards that were still standing. Ditching his rifle, he reached for his pistol in one hand and his knife in the other. With a spurt of speed and agility that would make Olympic athletes seem like kids running around on a playground, he dodged through the oncoming fire, firing off quick but precise shots at the alien troops. By the time he had reached their position, only four of them remained.

Before it could react, Arrow jumped at the nearest one, stabbing it in the torso with his knife. Instead of pulling it out, however, he left it in as a means of controlling his victim's body to use a shield. The aliens, seemingly having no sense of loyalty to their wounded comrade, opened fire on Arrow. He could feel the heat coming through the body of the alien now dead in front of him, but he remained unharmed as he rushed the remaining three. Quick as a flash of lightning, he released his meat shield from his grips and took a clean slice at one of the alien's necks, nearly decapitating it in a single blow while simultaneously fired three shots into the other's chest. He managed to duck under a shot as the last remaining enemy tried in vain to kill Arrow. Instead it of killing him, he was met with a tackle that would've made Ray Lewis proud. Not stopping his momentum, Arrow grabbed the sides of the creature's head and proceeded to smash the thing's face in against the cement until all that remained was bone fragments and alien blood.

Panting, he looked back to where the two others were. The newcomer had dragged Wonder Boy into cover, much to the appreciation of Arrow. At least he can take a suggestion, he thought as he made his way back. He looked to where the first stranger was laying down at. Arrow hoped he would recover soon. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd need all the help he could get if he wanted to get out of this thing alive.

After all, he still had some...business to take care of.

[Pantorrum]

Psionis
Downtown LA, California

---

The pain. That's all he could think about. Every thought that came into his mind was about pain. Suffering. Loss. His focus, the greatest limit to his abilities. His powers required unquestionable focus, which cost him the ability to pay complete attention. Situations like this were difficult to avoid. In fact, until he found a way to overcome his limitation, it would be nearly impossible to avoid situations like this. Especially with so many hostiles, all requiring divided attention.

After about 10 minutes with his eye's closed, trying to force the pain to subside, he opened his eyes and tried to sit up. He was holding his sight lightly, trying not to apply pressure. It was a not a serious wound by any means. It simply caused excruciating pain. The feeling of endless burning at temperatures that felt like the sun itself, that's where the pain came from. A graze from a laser could take down a normal human. In fact, he was lucky to have retained consciousness throughout the first few minutes. To be entirely honest, he wasn't actually sure he had. It was all a haze up until the mercenary returned, after Psionis assumed he finished the rest off.

"That's great work there," he said. He struggled to talk as he slowly rose to a knee. "I'll be fine, I think. It'll take more than a single laser to bring me down for good. I just need a little time to recover." The pain in his side had completely made him forget about the leg wound, which had stopped burning already. "Had it not been for my clothing that slowed down the laser, I might have been killed, to be honest."
He was slow and uneasy as he rose to his feet. "I owe you one." He reached toward the man with an extended hand. "It's nice to meet you, what's your name?" Psionis had tried to look into the mercenaries mind and discover for himself what his name was and what his background was, but the pain was still to great to focus. Everything in the soldiers mind was blurry beyond what he could make out.
If anything was obvious, it was how much pain he was in. Less so than the initial moment of contact, but he as still lightly holding his wound. The surface injury would most definitely hinder any more great feats today. Unless he managed to find an extraordinary doctor.

[Finland SSR]

Janette Kazlas

---

By the time I got to the city itself on a motorcycle that I borrowed, the entire downtown had gone to shit. Dozens of alien saucers flying across the town, dropping off troops. Laser and plasma blasts everywhere. And what seemed like a few good guys and gals trying their best to fend them off. Not the best situation.

But exciting.

I aimed the basketball that I carried out of the arena and threw it towards the nearest group of aliens, the ones that were standing there after having only recently landed. It suddenly rocketed forward at the speed of sound and punched through their ranks before bouncing off back to my hand. Jackpot. And my friends say I'm terrible at bowling.

Of course, the difference between bowling and real life is that in real life, the targets shoot back. Which is exactly what the armored aliens did by forming a line and opening fire on me.

"SAVE ME, MOTORCYCLE!" I screamed and took cover behind the vehicle. Luckily, I was on a hill while the opponents were below, and thus most of their shots were not even getting near. Wait... hill... rolling... I turned around and created a ball of thick cement right in front of my motorcycle, which then began barreling down the hill towards the poor aliens. Poor guys. They were probably recruited into this mission thinking that this will be a cakewalk.

As soon as the cement ball rolled through and turned an enemy squad into mush and fleeing soldiers, I began to stand back up, only to cower yet again as a plasma shot nearly hit my head, passing merely a few centimeters to the left of me. What the hell was that?

Oh. A sniper on one of the rooftops. Still under the "safe" motorcycle cover, I created a pingpong ball on my index finger, then clenched my hand like a pistol with only the "barrel" sticking out. While the enemy was still reloading, I suddenly rose up and fired my own strike. And unlike him, I was actually accurate.

"Well, the Eastern Front is secure. Alas."

I leaped back on my motorcycle - it's mine now - and zoomed deeper to the city. It appears that I'm not the only one who's slashing through aliens left and right - the streets are pretty much covered with blood. Although that might just be my cement ball. After speeding across a few streets, I took a glimpse at the side, only to see a crazed woman scream out a Leeroy Jenkins battlecry and slash an alien with little effect.

This situation calls for BASKET GIRL! I slowed down and tossed the basketball forward - it suddenly zoomed across the entire street and rammed into the alien with the force of a car crash. Or a basketball flying at physically impossible speeds. Your call.

"Sorry for the less than ordinary introduction, I'm not a native to this city. But I'm Basket Girl." I spoke, catching the bounced off ball with my right hand. "What even is going on here? Which one of us pissed off an alien princess to warrant an invasion? Or did Michael Bay take it one step further out there in Hollywood?"