Are We Heroes? Ch2: The Dawn of War[IC, Superhuman]

[The Cyberiad Council]

Tobias' thoughts were interrupted when a stranger pulled him into an alleyway.

The unknown assailant quickly retreated out of melee range. When Goodwin got his bearings, he was staring at a polished black mask; The man was holding his left arm up in surrender, his right hung limply at his side. "Aesculapius, it's me, Cypher. I need your help"

Tobias raised a brow at Cypher and looked around. With a sigh, he double checked with his powers that no one was watching. And no one was, thankfully; or at least, if they were, they were out of range.

“Okay. Sure. You can pay me back later. You need healing, right? Let me see what's going on.”, Tobias said, offering his hand.

Cypher tried his best to lift his arm, but he couldn't muster it.

"Gunshot, it severed the musculocutaneous nerve three inches from the end of the humerus on the anterior side. The bullet exited, I tried to stop the bleeding, but I'm losing blood."

Tobias nodded in understanding, instead choosing to move closer. He grabbed Cypher's arm where some skin was exposed, feeling his power envelope the man. Mentally, he began a checklist of injuries. Gunshot wound, damaged blood vessels, and nerves in the arm, other internal damage and injuries.

“I see some other stuff here, as well. Minor scarring? Or something like that. I'll just sweep through and fix everything; might have to take some stuff from your muscle or fat stores, so to rebuild that, you're going to want to eat a bit more than usual, or exercise to regain muscle.”, Tobias said, as his power got to work mending the wound, forcing the bullet or any fragments out of his wounds, as well as generally healing Cypher. Tobias also healed some internal scarring and any other minor injuries he found, giving Cypher's body a full 'tune up.'

“There you go. I think I got everything. If you want, I can increase your metabolism for a couple days so you can handle eating bigger meals... if you're worried you'll get fat or anything. Not that I took so much muscle or fat, just so you don't have to worry about it. Up to you, really.”, the healer finished, waiting for a response. If Cypher said no, he was thinking of heading to the bus stop as planned. Perhaps, though, he'd alter his own appearance first.

"Thank you for the offer, but I am content with the current status quo. You need to get out of here, CADMUS has brought in their R&D. There are a lot of variables in play. You need to find somewhere safe away from major cities, something big is about to unfold, and I don't mean in just Chicago."

Cypher began walking away, cloaking himself in shadow.

---

Once he was out of earshot from Tobias he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. It rang for a few seconds, then a voice came through, "Hello?"

"Angela, It's Cypher. I'm coming back."

---

Vanguard Extraction Team
Phoenix, AZ

"How long can someone look at color on a page? He's been in there for over an hour!"

Paladin and Prophet were busy playing a game of cards in the back of the van. Arsenal was behind the wheel fiddling with a contraption of some sort, and Quill was watching the entrance to the Art Gallery through a pair of binoculars.

"Lots of people like art, It can give a glimpse into the soul of another person."

"Did you read that off a hallmark card, Arsenal?"

Paladin called from the back, "Knock it off you two. You squabble more than the kids at camp."

The men gave a small sound of indignation and went back to their tasks.

"Head's up he's on the move, wait. Shit, CADMUS has him, he just got into that car."

The Team jumped into action. The van pulled away from the curb and started driving down the street a few car lengths behind the car containing Richard. Paladin's Armor formed and Prophet summoned the Void armor. The back of the van filled with a soft blue and gold glow. Three black vans had assembled around the car, and the motorcade was headed for a nearby CADMUS field office.

"Doesn't CADMUS line their vehicles with that power-dampening tech? Quill asked the two men in the back.

The response came from Arsenal, "Yeah, we have to bust him out, and I have an idea."

The Vanguard Van pulled ahead of the CADMUS motorcade thanks to some aggressive driving. "Prophet, Paladin; get ready. Quill, Take the Wheel."

"Wait, What?"

Arsenal opened the door and jumped out. His robotic arm hit the pavement, and he slid to a stop in a shower of sparks. He jumped up and he was directly in front of the oncoming CADMUS car. He extended his metal hand and opened his fist; green static jumped along his arm and the car deconstructed itself going down the road. Every bolt, every piece of the car separated itself from another and levitated apart, and traveled down the road at the same speed. At the same instant, Richard began to fall out of his seat. A breach opened and closed to reveal Paladin standing in the street. He held up his left arm and his shield disappeared; before Richard's body hit the pavement, a golden glow encapsulated his body and he rolled on the pavement unscathed.

Arsenal clenched his fist and the disassembled car crushed together into a ball of scrap metal. Paladin stopped the sliding metal with his foot and rematerialized his Sheild. Prophet opened another breach and stepped out at Richard's side. "Mr. Weinkauf we're here to rescue you."

[Arstotzmerika]

Joseph Lero, a.k.a Stardust Man
O'Hare International
2043

---

Joseph knew that CADMUS agents had to be nearby, as when in SF International eariler, he noticed a few people unnaturally staring at him. They'd probably tracked his ticket purchase for Chicago. In fact, hes probably walking right into a trap, set by CADMUS once they knew where he was headed. He walked out of Gate 19C, Terminal 2 attempting to act like he is unsuspicious of being watched. Joseph looked around the gate, managing to notice at least one suspicious person. A other few CADMUS agents all around the gate watched him, waiting until he went to an area less quiet and less people. That moment of quiet came when he passed by the Grumman Wildcat that was on display, he knew that with the few people there that CADMUS would strike.

"Target sighted, begin extraction of target?" radioed one of the CADMUS agents.

"Affirmative, just make sure he doesn't see you. Its very much possible he could turn your weapons to dust," said the voice of the Extraction Team leader with uncertainty, as CADMUS had not completely known the full extent of Joseph's Matter Manipulation.

A CADMUS agent aimed his weapon at Joseph as he walked by. He fired the shot, and hit Joseph's neck. He tried to pull it out, but he knew it was too late. Joseph collapsed onto the floor, laying motionless. He was defeated without a fight or even an escape attempt, just a mere tranquilizer dart to the neck.

"Commander, Target has been knocked out."

"Excellent, grab him and bring him here, everyone else regroup. I'll radio High Command we've got the target."

[New Cobastheia]

Agent Jack McBee
Silicon Valley, CA

---

Jack has been in the force for a long time, so has most of his family. He didn't expect this extraction to be any different than any other ones he's headed.
"All agents in place? Over." Jack got all the replies he needed and responded, "Ok, Agent McBee Out, Standby for either me or Agent Robert." With that, Jack hopped out of the black van and started walking to the mansion down the road. The sun had gone down, but you could still some of its light in the sky overhead. He proceeded to go over the plan in his head.

First, ask for his mother if she isn't the one to answer the door. When she comes to the door, tell her that her husband has been arrested for treason and that they are both needed to come with him to be interrogated for reasons of national importance, assuring the both of them that any information that they'll give will not be used to prosecute them, and if it could that they'll be pardoned. Then, once they're both in the vehicle, drug them with gas and when they awake they'll both be imprisoned within CADMUS facilities, Ashley in one of the ones for Humans and Theo in one of the most deadly camps.

Ringing the doorbell, he stood outside for a few seconds before an old man in a butlers uniform opened the door up slightly to see who was outside. It wasn't the start that Jack had thought he would have, it was never mentioned that the family had butlers in the most recent dossiers that he had read. Oh well, the plan still starts the same way.

"Hi, I'm Agent Henry Washington," He said as he pulled out his fake FBI ID and put it back in his pocket, "I'm looking for one Ashley Benn and her son Theodore Ashbrooks-Benn, could you please bring them to the door?" said Jack, lying thought his smile and fake charm.

"Oh, well I'm sure I could bring the relevant information to both Mistress Ashley and Master Theodore." Said the Butler calmly and collected, speaking with a British accent.

"Ah, no I don't think you can. It's a matter of national importance involving mutants and treason, now, could you please bring them here?"

"Well, neither of them are home at this moment," The Butler was now lying but, he wasn't quite as good at it, "So it looks like you'll have to be giving me the information so you can pass it on. And besides that, why is everyone these days associating mutants with treason and terrorism, mutants can be good people, both my parents were-"

"I'm gonna cut you off there buddy, you continue talking like that and I'll have a CADMUS agent here in no time to take you in, you wouldn't like that now, would you?" Jack was starting to get fed up with this stupid old man, if he was allowed to kill on sight right now, this waste of vital oxygen wouldn't be living for these extra seconds Jack is so gratefully giving him right now. "Also, bullshit, do you really think that I wouldn't be one there doorstep right now if I didn't know at least one of them was home right now. Now get me one of them or you'll be thrown in prison for treason as well."

Theodore Ashbrooks-Benn

---

Theo could hear of the Butlers arguing with whoever was at the door, he didn't quite care until the butler called him over, "Master Theodore, could you please come to the door?" He said timidly. Theodore got up, walked to the door, opened it up all the way as to actually see what was happening outside, and spoke, "Who are you and what to do want?"

"I'm Henry Washington, FBI, I came here to inform you and your mother that your father has been arrested for treason."

"Huh, that probably explains why he didn't announce his presidential bid today. So, what the old man do?" Theodore said in a curious tone.

Agent Jack McBee

---

"That is not a normal reaction to hearing your father, never mind the Secretary of State, committed treason. Time to improvise." He thought. "Oh, the same thing most people do these days, supporting mutant rights except, some interns going over the accounts saw that your father was handing over US money to a mutant terrorist group."

"Let me guess, Vanguard? Am I right? Am I? Ya know, not many people may choose the answer that I gave because as far as I know, they haven't quite killed anyway for terroristic reasons, anyway, what ya telling me this for? Seems like it might be better if the government just sent us a memo or something, not make an agent and let's see here, 3... no 4, vehicles come with in my public view."

Theodore Ashbrooks-Benn

---

There was a moment of silence for a few reasons, the first was because Theo wanted to see if this "Mr. Henry Washington of the FBI" could come up with a response to himself. Which after 5 seconds he seemingly could not. So Theo went on to say this, "Ya know, Mr. Washington was it, I can see right thru this clever little ruse of yours and all your underlings, and what I can only imagine is some of your superiors. You came here to arrest me for something I had no choice over, and you want to know what my response is to that, come and get me." Theo then proceeded to slam the door on the CADMUS officer's foot.

He said something, something Theodore couldn't make out because he had turned the man's brain into a block of concrete and the foot into air. Before closing the door completely he waved over to the CADMUS vehicles and pushed the now dead man on to the ground.

Once the door was closed he yelled out to the house, with a certain kind of mix of nervousness, fear, excitement, and anxiousness that you could hear in his voice, "Ok everyone. If you stay in this house for the next couple of minutes, there is a very high chance of you dying if you are not a mutant, I repeat, if you are not a mutant. If you want to say alive, I would suggest going out that back door over there and start running for your goddamn lives."
Meanwhile, he was thinking something like this, What the fuck did I just do? Oh well, I just I'm just going to have to destroy a neighborhood to get out of this mess I've created, oh well indeed. Oh, and hey, Mode, if you can hear me in here, you might just get to have a chance of getting to move around again if I lose. Or I might just let you out if I think I'll need to, which I just might need to do. Oh great."

[Bentus]

Annette Barreau - Pixie
Rehabilitation Office facility, Undisclosed Location

---

The butterfly’s wings flapped gently as it rested, the brief movement shifting the vibrant patterns that adorned its body. Shifting itself slightly, the insect brushed at its antennae with its two forelimbs. The twin stalks would twitch almost unnoticeably every second or so; discontent to experience its surroundings through sight alone, the butterfly made every effort to taste the very air that graced its feelers. It was a graceful creature, entire cultures having been entranced by the beauty of its wings, and butterfly jewellery was prized from the forests of South America to the jungles of Africa. And yet everything about the insect screamed fragility, from the thin paper-like membranes of its wings to the branch-like stalks of its six legs. Ultimately, butterflies proved exceedingly vulnerable even to the steady march of time, with few species living for more than a day after emerging transformed from their cocoons.

A sudden, bone-piercing scream caused the butterfly to take flight, its wings flapping instinctively to lift its slender body in an effort to avoid the unexpected sound. There were no windows in the room. Indeed, there was very little to offer any true semblance of place or substance, save for the single one-way mirror that dominated one of the bare, closed-in grey walls. The harsh lighting illuminuated the only piece of furniture of note: a dentist-like chair that sat pride-of-place in the centre of the vacant space. The captured mutant had been tied firmly down by a series of straps, every free limb from his legs to even his neck having been bound by the chair’s straps so as to remove all possibility of escape. The man didn’t look any older than 30, a thin layer of stubble adorning his otherwise youthful features. Although his once handsome face was now marred by bruises, cuts and the stains of drying blood.

“Please, I’ve told you everything I know!” The man’s voice was twisted by desperation, his words intermingled by painful sobbing. “I swear I haven’t left anything out. I hadn’t been with the group for too long, I hardly knew any of them.” He could hardly think past the excruciating pain that was emanating from his prone body, a sensation of damage and destruction that was sending his mind into an agonising tailspin. It was all that he could do to form cohesive words in an effort to placate his tormentor, anything to try and make the pain go away.

Annette shook her head, a displeased look on her features. She made a quick motion over the restrained mutant’s chest. A slight bulge beneath his skin followed the path of her hand, evoking yet another cry of anguish, along with the sound of what was most likely another rib being broken. His tears had truly begun to mingle with the blood that had dried on his face, turning the mixture into a sticky substance that stuck to his stubble like some badly-formed scabs.

Smiling playfully, Annette wagged a finger at the prisoner. “Lying is not very nice, Mister Roberts. All Agent Jensen asked was for you to be polite and tell the truth. I think you were very rude when you first met her.” The girl spoke as if she were scolding a small child, seemingly oblivious to the intense suffering that was occurring before her. “Doctor Peters always told me that it’s nice to make friends with people that you meet, but unless you’re polite to them then nobody would want to be your friend to begin with!”

“I – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie – I wasn’t thinking – it was wrong! Please can you ask Agent Jensen to forgive me? I’ll answer any questions that she has now, I promise.” Annette raised a sceptical eyebrow, her hand once again manoeuvring itself to hover over the mutant’s chest. That evoked a strong response, with Barry's eyes widening in terror. “Ok, ok – I can tell you names! Nobody important, but some people that I knew.”

---

“Bloody hell, is she always this – this…”

“Effective?”

“I was going to say pitiless, actually Doctor.”

Doctor Jacob Peters, from CADMUS’ R&D division, shrugged in response. “What do you want me to say, Sarah? You get what you ask for.”

Sarah Jensen had been an agent for the Field Office for nearly three years now, having moved to the organisation following a healthy career at the FBI. She had helped bring in her fair share of dangerous mutants, and Barry Roberts was no exception. They had caught him in Wyoming with a group of stragglers, but when officers moved to engage he had fought them off in order to allow for the rest of his group to escape. The engagement had left three agents dead and another hospitalised from his injuries. Barry Roberts was a textbook case of the Vanguard menace and after four days without even a peep of information from him, Sarah had felt no qualms about asking some contacts in R&D for assistance. While the rumour mills were always filled with the strange experiments and creations that the shadowy office were working on, the last thing she had expected was a scientist to be assigned to her group with what appeared to be a young mutant girl following closely behind in his footsteps. She had been introduced as Subject VA:178, but the Doctor had insisted that Sarah refer to the girl as ‘Annette’. What had followed were images that would come to scar the agent for the rest of her life.

“I don’t know Jacob, I really don’t know.” Another scream echoed from the other side of the one-way mirror, the thick glass serving as a frame for the torture chamber within. “This is exactly the kind of thing that I signed up to prevent: mutants like this.”

The doctor offered a sigh. “She’s on our side remember, those monsters forced our hand. At the end of the day, what she’s doing – what we’re doing – will save lives and help protect the human race. Don’t forget that.” He glanced down at his watch, frowning as he did so. “Time’s running out, this reassignment has thrown our whole schedule up into the air I’m afraid. Upstairs wants me to get Annette on a plane to Chicago by the end of the hour.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Chicago? Something big is going down there. I’m almost jealous that you’re going to be in the thick of it.”

“Honestly? I would prefer it if we could just stay safely in the lab. Annette is a rare specimen, and a genuinely cooperative one at that, she’s an asset that we shouldn’t be jeopardising by sending her out into the field.” The doctor shook his head as he sighed. “Anyway, do you have any final questions for the prisoner? Otherwise I’ll have her wrap things up.”

“No, no further questions.” Sarah looked over the doctor curiously, wondering if she had really heard a hint of compassionate concern for the mutant.

“Very well.” Leaning forward, Doctor Peters activated the intercom. His voice boomed out into the isolated interrogation cell. “That will be all, Annette. We’re going to be late for our flight if we don’t hurry up.”

Inside the room, Annette turned to wave at the opaque mirror to signal that she had heard the instruction. She turned to address Barry Roberts as he slowly drifted in-and-out of consciousness.

“Sorry, I’m going to have to go now – but I had a great time meeting you. This last bit is going to hurt the worst, but then it will be all done and you’ll have no more pain.” Annette smiled innocently at the dying man, his eyes were wild with fear but all the strength to resist had fled from his limbs. “And that’s a promise from me to you, ok? And you know I’m not lying since we’re practically friends by this point.”

Despite his fatigue and exhaustion, Barry Roberts’ last scream was the loudest and the longest. It mingled with the crunching sounds of his bones being torn apart, and the blood-curdling sound of tearing flesh.
The butterfly, which had by this point become accustomed to the screams on its newest perch, was once again startled into flight. But this time by the spray of red droplets that signaled the end of Barry Roberts.

Outside, Sarah Jensen would never be able to wipe the gruesome scene from her memory. She would find herself waking in a cold sweat from nightmares in the future, the vivid image of that innocent smile on Annette’s face striking like a fearful dagger in her chest.

[The Arks]

Garret Wolman/ Wolfenstein
Seattle, WA
Across the street from Warehouse 16
2043

Garret stood against the stairwell entrance, letting out a puff of smoke. He didn't like smoking-- despised it, actually-- but he needed an excuse to be atop the apartment building overlooking the docks. In particular, Warehouse 16. From his vantage point he saw the Iron Owl enter the warehouse, and smiled. Tossing the cigarette aside, he pulled out his disposable phone and pulled up the security cameras on the inside of the warehouse. To be honest, he was impressed at the Owl's efficiency. To bad the man couldn't sense a trap.

Garret told the phone to download the recordings, and then walked over to one of the long pipes sticking out of the roof, smoke billowing through. The pipe had a long chalk line going down it, and he easily flipped up the cap of the pipe to reveal an M39 EMR, with a bipod and scope attached, held in place by a curious net-like mechanism. He removed the rifle and unfolded the bipod, setting the rifle down on the building's railing facing the warehouse as his phone finished downloading the security tapes to this point. He flipped to another tab on his phone and sent a text, then watched the phone as he waited. He could see the Owl shooting a man in the kneecap, and then saying something to him. Why did these security systems never come with audio? God, that was annoying.

Then, all at once, the security feed cut out as the warehouse erupted, the four walls being blown out by the massive explosion as it sent debris and cars flying in all directions, causing many of them to explode from the heat of the explosion as well. The roof of the building almost immediately collapsed, the steel plates crushing the debris beneath. Garret hardly noticed any of this, however, as he peered seconds into the future. If he could see someone escaping from the bombing ahead of time, he could already be ready to put them down-- Iron Owl or not. Everyone in that warehouse needed to die tonight.

A man, crawling out from under a pile of steel sheets, obviously struggling. Garret already had the rifle aimed before the man's head even became visible, and when it did-- bang, the man was dead. He continued using his foresight, trying to spot any escapees before they got out. In the distance, he could hear sirens, but this wasn't a populated area. It would be at least 20-30 minutes before anyone arrived-- plenty of time for Wolfenstein to finish his work and be on his way.

[IOTA Corp]

And with that, Skullduggery tucked the finger into his jacket pocket and limped off.

"I must say that I'm impressed." Corpus was leaning in an ally way, waiting for Jason as he limped by. He was toying with a curved six-inch blade made of a human ulna.

"I am Corpus. It's refreshing to see someone with the balls to face CADMUS. I have a similar beef with them myself. I was wondering if someone like you would want a hand?"
Jason whipped his head to wherever the voice was coming from, squinting before making out the man who had spoken to him. Jason sighed, now procuring a cigarette and lighting it. Blowing the smoke into the air, he then smiled and held up the severed finger.

"I might not need a hand. I only need four more fingers." He said, now moving onwards. He expected the man to follow, so he looked over his shoulder.

"I'm not waiting around here for much longer, so if you wanna talk, come with me."

Corpus walked and fell in step with Jason. "A man of action, they seem so difficult to find nowadays. You certainly gave it to CADMUS back there; I've heard your name spoken among the CADMUS agents. They want you dead, really badly, and I seem to fall in the same boat. We seem to find ourselves on similar paths, and you seem to have found your next step. You are certainly powerful, but a bit messy; like a shotgun. I see myself more like a scalpel, dangerous and precise. I think we can offer each other a mutual relationship where we can both achieve a common goal, the downfall of CADMUS. And your calcium-clad friend might appreciate my services.

Jason looked at the man, who called himself Corpus. He was creepy, no doubt. Jason felt as if he was being sized up constantly, and the way he spoke sort of confirmed it. The guy had a "holier-than-thou" attitude about him. It was strange, yet Jason couldn't help but be intrigued. He pondered the thought of a partnership as he smoked, briefly shifting his eyes towards the street as police cars raced by, no doubt towards the mess of a scene that he had just left. After a long pull of his cigarette and a long silence, Jason spoke,

"Alright. I'll bite. But at least buy me dinner before you tickle my prostate. What's your real name? Not that bullshit super name," He said, rounding a corner and avoiding eye contact with a few men on the street, "And what could you possibly offer to Skullduggery? He's a magical skeleton who shares the same consciousness as me. It's sort of a long story, and I don't have nearly enough screen time to explain it."

He smiled at the gifted man. "You have to be careful with your name. Names carry power. I 'became the mask', so to speak, but I was born Lance Turner; Dr. Lance Turner. And as for Skullduggery..." Corpus snapped the bone he was holding and held up the ends for Jason to see. He placed the ends together and the white bones flowed together like water. "Voilà", he handed the mended bone to Jason to inspect.

Jason took the bone, looking it over before handing it back to Lance Turner. He was, admittedly, impressed. The man had power over bone structure. Perhaps he could be of use to Skullduggery. Jason flicked his cigarette, now only a stub, into the street before stopping at a dimly lit neon sign for a motel. He looked around briefly before stepping inside. The man at the front desk perked up upon seeing Jason but raised an eyebrow at the man who followed. Jason held out a hand, signifying the man to calm himself.

"It's cool, Paco. He's just my stalker. Nothing to fret about," Jason said, before walking past the desk to a door that said EMPLOYEES ONLY, "Saved this guys hotel from burning down a few years ago. He's let me stay in a pretty tricked out room in the basement ever since. I use it as my private hidey-hole. My home away from home, if you will."

As they descended a set of stairs, a single door stood straight ahead. Pushing it open, Jason revealed a fairly spacious room, slightly larger than an average hotel room. Most of one wall was covered by an immense bookshelf. Leather-bound books with no name on the spine mingled with more modern titles. A work desk and a fairly modern computer sat in the corner. A large bed, several half-empty of bottles of liquor, and a nightstand took up another wall. Perhaps the strangest part of the room, however, was a large intricate symbol traced in white paint on the floor.

"Skullduggery can seperate himself from my body in there. Allows him to heal and recharge. We don't have much time here, so I'm just gonna grab a few clothes," Jason said, grabbing a duffel bag before looking at Lance, "If you're really with me, we're headed to Chicago."

"Ah, the windy city. I hear it's crawling with CADMUS goons since some big mutant started causing trouble. Do you have a plan for getting there, or are we just going to fight our way there on a road trip?"

"Nah, we're gonna fly there. They aren't locking down every single airport. I have enough cash on hand to get us a smaller aircraft and we may be able to sneak in. I don't think there's any other way," Jason replied, now throwing the duffel bag over his shoulder and holding the exit door open for Lance, "There's a ton of information there, and their main servers too."

"I'm game. Just lead the way."

[The V O I D]

Advanced Learning Computer Intelligence
Chicago

AdvancedLearning.ci Bootup... Complete

Checking Facial Recognition Software... Complete
Checking Audiovisual Feed Access Programs... Complete
Checking Servers... Complete
Checking Local Contacts... Complete
Checking Randomized Server Modules... Complete
Checking Backup Systems... Complete

All Software Checks Positive; Hardware Checkups Positive
Accessing Chicago

Alexandra blinked into awareness. Of course, she was always aware. It just so happened that she had to run through those checks when accessing a city's systems to ensure that they were functioning properly; and to make sure she could avoid detection. Alex began checking through various security feeds, as well as security feed histories; she filtered through the web and the internet, and subtly tapped radio systems to 'listen in' on anyone broadcasting on signals easily accessed to her.

Radio systems not easily accessed to her tended to be very rare. Alex saw a man being apprehended by CADMUS in the Chicago Airport, witnessed the things involving Tobias until he left the hospital... generally, she saw everything going on in Chicago. Alex thought for a moment, and made a decision.

[Accessing Contact... CYPHER.] Her system informed her that she was now calling Cypher via video-chat. Alex began preparing herself to show her 'face'; making it look like her avatar was tired and such. Her avatar was very convincing; she doubted even Cypher saw through it, though if he did, he'd never said anything before now. Alex waited for her video call with Cypher to go through, while turning some of her attention to look through other security feeds to monitor CADMUS as well as the general situation in Chicago.

[Accessing Account... DESIGNATION: iSeeYou] Accessing one of her online handles, she wrote out a message on the Broker page she had set up. She knew, or at least, believed that CADMUS had set up programs to monitor the Broker's pages, considering she'd sold info to them before. Alex was going to sell them some information regarding Tobias Goodwin's location... that would let Vanguard retrieve the prisoner, perhaps.

Regardless, writing out a post detailing that she had information regarding 'the Good Doctor', she waited to see if CADMUS would open a call with her Broker identity. Alex continued monitoring the various feeds and systems, watching carefully and curiously over Chicago.

[Futrellia]

Iron Owl
Warehouse 16
Seattle, WA

---

"Owl, I'm detecting increased heart rate and severe heat being applied to the suit. I am coming to you now. City Hall is safe." Said Ollie through Owl's helmet. He couldn't detect the explosion in time. He knew there was something odd about how everything was placed, how the man's eyes lit up with fear even before Owl engaged them.

"Errgghhh! Come on you....bastard!" He said, slowly lifting a large piece of steel pillar from his chest. The fire closed in around him and the ceiling was beginning to sag down in his area. The rest of the warehouse was already a burning mess, but from where the explosives were placed, this area would be the same in about 45 seconds. Grunting and straining, he managed to push the steel frame aside, slowly rising up, everything around him collapsing. He sprinted towards a window, now black with soot and heat. Behind him, the steel beams and roofing were crumbling down. He began pushing himself ever more to gain speed, he crouched down a little lower to avoid getting his head cut off by a piece of the burning steel. Making a leaping jump of faith, he smashed through the window, coming down to a rolling position and successfully escaping, a plume of heavy fire billowing out of the broken window, a new source of oxygen for the angry fires.

"Ollie, get the Jet here now. Someone knew I was coming." He said. The chest piece of his suit was severely burned, the first layer of kevlar and carbon nanotubing had been burnt black and there was visible areas where the fire had burned other areas a crisp coating of charcoal.

[Arkeyana]

John disembarked the plane and looked around. (New York, never thought I'd move here) he thought. He went through the same procedures and rented a taxi. Grabbing a newspaper, he started to read the news.

[The Cyberiad Council]

Cypher
Chicago

Crowds of people moved along side walks and across streets. Innocents going about their business, small shop owners, janitors, CEOs, and the lot; they were blissfully unaware of the struggle that was going on all around them. They partially chose to ignore it, it was easier to focus on their little world, easier to not acknowledge the tyranny that was happening in their land of freedom. In the throng of faces, one walked by totally ignored. He was wearing jeans and a light blue tee-shirt and sunglasses. He had a large duffle bag slung over his shoulder, but no one noticed. He had the ultimate hiding place: plain sight. Cypher didn't usually walk in the open with his mask off, but he had removed his picture and any reference to his true name from everywhere in existence. He wasn't anybody, he didn't exist, Cypher was the only one left. Still, he had planned out his route before he stopped using his powers. It brought him in view of as few cameras as possible. He was still recovering from the last use of his powers and couldn't safely use them again for a few hours.

He was headed for the airport to charter a private plane for a one-way flight to Alliance, Nebraska. He had withdrawn a large amount of cash from an atm earlier and intended to keep the trip off the books as much as possible. It was time to rejoin the Vanguard; CADMUS had employed more and more dangerous threats, and the Mutants needed to coalesce. His phone began to vibrate and he pulled it out of his pocket. Alex. He answered the call but kept his camera off. He couldn't help but smile when he saw the avatar. It was advanced; it went through micro expressions and realistic movements, but he could see through it, at least while he was using his powers. She was smart, she varied her clothing based off of a random number generator that had a complex algorithm to ensure that the clothes were worn in a pattern that normal people wouldn't notice. After their first few contacts, Cypher had reversed engineered the pattern and calculated the random number thread out to a few hundred thousand places. He knew how the avatar would appear before the computer systems could calculate it. At the moment though, the numbers were beyond him, locked away in his mind palace; a mental technique for remembering a vast amount of knowledge. The only way he can keep from dying of a mental overload was to lock away most of his memories, like compressing them into a file much in the same way a computer make a .zip file.

He never let on that he knew about Alex, it was another layer of protection; ignorance.

"Hello Alex, how is the Eye in the Sky doing?"

[The V O I D]

Cypher
Chicago

He never let on that he knew about Alex, it was another layer of protection; ignorance.

"Hello Alex, how is the Eye in the Sky doing?"

Advanced Learning Computer Intelligence
Chicago

Alex smiled at the sound of Cypher's voice, her avatar having a knowing but almost smug smile. She reached 'off screen' and picked up a brush, brushing her hair slightly to straighten it out; apparently deciding it was a lost cause, she put it down before 'typing' sounds came from her side of things. Nodding to herself, as if confirming information, she looked at Cypher again despite his camera being off.

“Hello, Cypher. I'm doing alright. I was just making sure this call was secure. I'm calling to inform you that you shouldn't head to the airport right now - high CADMUS presence, and they just caught someone with powers. I'm working on something to grab their attention to divert some of their manpower, but I don't know how much it will work. Your options are probably either to escape or to grab whatever Vanguard members you can in Chicago to attempt a rescue of the person captured. Attempting to rescue and then escape, based on my info, would not succeed.

I'm glad I got to you on time, Cypher. You're one of my friends; I'd hate to see you get captured. I'll be texting you what little info I have on the higher ranking CADMUS officials here. I'll also be sending you some information I bought from the Broker. Stay safe, Cypher.”, she finished; Cypher's phone would buzz, indicating it got the text files. Her voice was also natural, created by blending various female voices she'd recorded over time and making it seamlessly sound like one voice. She had a slight accent that would be hard to identify - perhaps Russian, perhaps Greek? - and her voice was smooth. Alex waited for Cypher's response, while double checking her feeds to make sure no CADMUS were heading his way.

[Shark isle]

Erwin walked into his house with a huff. It had been a long day in the construction site and he was pooped. He looked around the house and let out a sigh of relief. His wife and kids were out of the house. He then thought to himself," This is a good time to talk to Cypher. Cypher, was a mutant who provided with the gadgetry he used as his alter-ego, Knight, servant of Maat. He logged into a chat room and typed into it," Are you there, Sir Wizard." This was referring to Cypher.
It took a minute for the reply to come.
"Yes." Cyphers brevity was known by the few who talked with him regularly.
" Good", Erwin typed, getting into his Knight persona in case CADMUS was monitoring the chat. " I would like to ask thee what types of machinery thou hast provided me on my crusade.
"The miniature crossbow fires tranquilizer arrows at a distance of roughly 250 ft. I modified your shield to act as a single-use EMP generator, It works by placing one of the EMP charges
(the small black canisters) to the port on the back of the Sheild. I'm sure that you've noticed the trigger, just press it and the EMP will activate. I've also given you several canisters of halothane gas that are filled with an opaque white gas to see where the gas is. The halothane should render targets unconscious without causing them any further harm. Also, I have given you a few canisters that have a medley of grasses that produce a dense fog. They are ideal for smoke screens, and should also reduce the effectiveness of advanced optics like thermal, but not completely. I've also modified your helmet to filter out most environmental dangers, but due to it being a passive system you will be overwhelmed if you are subjected to toxic fumes for too long. For surveillance, I have provided small round omnidirectional mics that you can link up with speakers in your helmet. They have a general purpose adhesive and can be placed nearly anywhere. Also, I have sent a special drone; the s.w.a.l.l.o. It will pass as a small bird at first glance, and should allow you to get visuals of an area before you go charging in."
" Thank thee Sir Wizard." Erwin then typed into the computer." So, how is thy quest to render aid to the less fortunate?" This, of course, is referencing Cypher's connection to Vanguard.
"It is taxing, but I am on my to rejoin the Vanguard full time."
"Good, Sir Wizard. If I am needed, contact me and I shall go on a pilgrimage to the City of Wind".
"You would do so at your own risk; CADMUS is tearing the place apart. I am not in the leading business, so what you do is in your own hands."
"Thanks for the warning my good man." Erwin knew that if he ran into CADMUS it would be game over for him. He then logged out of the chatroom and started to examine his new gadgets

[The Arks]

Garret Wolman/Wolfenstein
Seattle, WA
2043

The figure of the Iron Owl was unmistakable as he leaped from the ruined warehouse, landing right in the spot Garret was aiming at. Garret fired, the armor-piercing round striking the Owl and sending him flipping through the air and prone onto the ground. Garret fired twice more, the bullets ripping through the bullet-proof cloak like paper, and then backed away from the building's railing. He folded the bipod up and placed the rifle in a duffel bag, then walked quickly toward the stairwell. He entered just as a harrier-like machine flew over the building and to the warehouse.

Garret smiled. The 10 million he gained from this job would fund his revenge operations for years-- he wouldn't have to take jobs from the Gambino crime family or other ilk anymore. He could help people-- he could make his daughter proud.

He exited the apartment building through a rear exit and got into a small sedan, which he drove to his motel. Several policemen and a fire truck passed him, evidently headed toward the warehouse. As he entered his room, he sent a video to his contact in the Syndicate-- the Iron Owl fighting in the warehouse, the warehouse explosion, and then the three bullets he had put into the man. In the morning, he would be paid, and all would be well. Knowing this, he laid down on the bed, turned on the television, and began flipping through channels.

[New Neros]

Hugo Khan | Titan
Dallas, Texas
Reunion Tower

Night life was beginning to take over the city as Hugo Khan took a minute to stroll through the observation deck of the tower, watching one by one as skyscrapers became illuminated in the falling sun light. As he walked close to the telescopes pointed at the city skyline, a tuft of paper caught his eye on the fourth one to the left. Stepping close to it for a moment, Hugo grabbed the piece and continued his pace in one fluid motion, as if nothing had happened. He excused himself to the bathroom for a moment, taking a look at the small, barely inch long piece of tissue paper. Two words and a time, Reunion Station, eight o'clock. Glancing at his phone, he had about an hour left, enough to walk and wait at the rendezvous point. He pissed and flushed the evidence away into the sewers.

It was literally across the street, but Hugo took his time going through the Hyatt Regency Dallas, acting like a tourist awed by the luxury despite living about thirty minutes north in Plano. Truth be told, he had seen just as luxurious amenities at houses in Highland Park, but he was biding his time, and trying to observe his own tail a bit to ensure someone hadn't caught wind of him. These days, an agent against Vanguard wasn't hard to spot, they didn't walk around decked in riot police gear or have a squad of goons following them around. It was one man or woman in casual dress, shifty eyes, and a penchant for being the same room as whoever they intended to follow. Hugo saw no reason to throw suspicion around at anyone in the lobby, so casually left as he turned in his visitor pass, emerging onto Hotel Drive, aptly named. Over the wall in front of him was the train tracks that Union Station serviced, but he wasn't about to draw some attention, so he walked towards Reunion Boulevard, which formed a circle around the hotel.

As Hugo trucked on, he quickly came to a bridge that carried the trains for the station overhead, encasing the entire road in concrete. Without warning and out of the corner of his eye, a black streak rushed toward him. His instincts activated and his body filled with adrenaline, making him duck and stumble back haphazardly into the street. Bringing his tunnel-vision crossed eyes forward, Hugo saw a man in a hoodie, his hand completing it's swing with a smirk. "Looks like you got some street in you, huh?" The man said in a gruff voice, "But you don't look like no rich fuck. But money's money and I need it now, empty your wallet for me, would ya?"

Hugo narrowed his eyes and stood back onto his feet. "I can't say that I've ever been mugged." He said in disbelief, "Why are you sticking up people two hundred feet from Dealey Plaza?"

The man pulled his hood back to reveal a contorted, crusted up face, resembling the fissures of stone and rock, along with a cheeky grin. "Because I can't exactly make it in the real world anymore. No more mutants, bud, so now I have to earn my keep on the down low, and what's a cop gonna do? Not a damn thing, because me and my boys are slick, we play possum." Hugo felt a shock through his body, normal for him, but it was a realization that he could help this mutant somehow if he wasn't trying to be a street thug. "So now that I scared you shitless, hand over some cash and your shoes."

"My shoes?"

"Yeah, for hassling me."

Hugo heard a train whistle sound, which suddenly thundered over the bridge above him. A perfect distraction and cover, causing Hugo to pull his right sleeve up and form a fist. With some speed and power, Titan launched at the thug, the cackles of electricity covering his forearm drowned out by the train. It was a decent, solid hit, cratering the side of the thug's face, but the other mutant only stumbled back. "Damn," Titan said, "That should have knocked you flat on your ass."

"I'm made of rock, you dipshit." The mutant thug yelled, throwing a slow, yet hard punch at Titan, who had backed himself up against the wall. Neither of the two could hear each other over the sound of the passing train, "Didn't think I'd meet another mutie down here, but that's whatever because you're fucked now, bud." The hand of the rock mutant slammed into the concrete wall of the bridge instead of Titan, who had ducked at the last moment, cratering and cracking it, much to the alarm of Titan, who was doing everything in his power to not draw immediate attention to his quarrel.

"I assume you're made of rock." Titan said from a squatted position, channeling the electricity in his arm directly into his nervous system instead of around his skin. "In which case, I'm going to give my body an electric boost to stimulate my nerves, I'll be able to punch hard enough and fast enough to bust big, boulder heads like yours." He yelled, shooting up from his squat with a devastating upper-cut, cracking the jaw of the mugger mutant and sending his rock-like teeth flying across the street. He dropped like a ton of bricks, right as the train fully passed overhead. The sudden silence, beyond the heavy breathing of Titan and his snoring adversary, was deafening. Regardless, the man had an important meeting up ahead, and lightly jogged to Union Station to make it there on time.

He slowed to a walk, finding a long, blonde haired agent of Vanguard seated at the bus stop, sandwiched between a fat man and an old lady dressed in her Sunday best. "Hope I'm not too late, Vic." Hugo said casually, waving a quick hello at his friend and partner.

[The Republic of Atria]

Jack Tassiter: Victory
Dallas Texas

Jack had a pretty simple job. A simple, in theory, breaking and entering. Steal some data from some place called Omega Horizon pertaining to mutants. He really wasn't one for details with his power covering that to a frighteningly accurate degree. After he got his mission, he checked his power out to see if he would need anything beyond going to collect his friend and ally: Titan. He didn't, which was what he loved about his power. Most everyone had to spend weeks, months, or even years planning a heist like this, when he could do it inside a day. He relied on his power quite a bit, which was how he was able to elude CADMUS for as long as he did. No matter what they threw at him, his power always gave him a way out. Another good part about it is that it was completely inconspicuous. No tell that he was using it meaning that he was damn near impossible to pin down, unlike some less fortunate mutants. Oh well. This was pretty much the only thing he could do to help his own kind at the moment.

It was a mess that first day he went on the lam. He had to ditch the CADMUS van he'd stolen pretty quick. It was bugged and he'd have been traced in less than an hour had his power not told him. He didn't know how it had so much detail about every little thing, but he wasn't complaining, most of the time anyways. He certainly was still mad that it got him into this mess, despite the fact that it was his own fault. There was no easy option to get out of this that his power could tell him, so he was stuck doing it. Which wasn't a bad thing, lots of people were going to be helped because of him, even if he had to do some morally nebulous things to accomplish it. His power guided him to his destination and the first thing he saw was his first and really only, friend in the Vanguard. Hugo Khan: Better known as Titan, wrapping up a fight with what looked like another mutant. Thankfully it was relatively quiet around or they'd have to lose some tails before they got started on their mission. It wouldn't be a problem for either of them, but it would be a waste of time.

He pulled his car to a stop in a parking space and stepped out. "Nope. Perfect timing. Though I do think that we should get going soon before someone decides to check out what that noise was. Beyond that, you got everything you need for us to get the job done?" It was mostly a rhetorical question, but he decided not to use his power. Sometimes not knowing the outcome was just more fun. "Had to shake more than a few tails on the way, but CM is pretty bad at keeping track of the shitmobile." He motioned to the almost perfectly generic looking white car.

[New Cobastheia]

Theodore Ashbrooks-Benn
Silicon Valley, CA

---

A few seconds after Theo said what he said and did what he did the bullets started to rain into the house, thru the walls. Some stuck Theo, of course, they all crumpled up on contact and bounced right off his skin. Well, technically it wasn't skin, it was a shield of telekinetic energy, a few atoms thick at the moment, that surrounded his body, Tactile Telekinesis. At first, Theo was taken aback by this, the force the bullets put on his body pushed him forwards and he certainly didn't have any time to brace for them. The fire continued for what seemed like few seconds, by the end of it Theo was laying on the floor, covered in rubble and a dead body.

From the outside, well to be fair, there was no longer a wall separating the outside and the inside where Theo was lying, Theo could hear some voices although he couldn't quite figure out what they were saying either. Soon after, armor clad soldiers from CADMUS came inside. They quickly dispersed throughout the house. One stayed near the entrance, "This will be the first one to die." He thought.

He made only the slightest noise. So unnoticeable that only the trained ear would be able to make it out. The CADMUS soldier could hear it. So he came closer to find out what it. Once he got close enough Theo unleased his powers. Throwing a rock of mansion into the man's face with telekinesis, he fell backward landing himself onto one of the pieces of wall that still remained. Then using his transmutation abilities, he merged the body of this soldier into the wall, keeping his heart, brain, face, lungs, and all vital tubes and what not intact so the man would most certainly die while being a wall.

Of course his screams of agony gave out the location of Theodore to the rest the squad and of course, Theodore knew that so he ran up the stairs, hoping to force the soldiers into a bottleneck. The squadmates ran to the entrance of the mansion and find their destroyed teammate, still screaming a ghoulish noise, "He's up there! He's up there!" He yelled starting to cry. The soldiers, disgusted by what they saw, put their teammate out of his misery.

"Hey, idiot's I'm up here!" A voice boomed throughout the house, clearly coming from upstairs. So the soldiers followed it, in a soldierly way of course. First, one of them came up than another, then some more. Soon half of them were downstairs and half of them were upstairs. The next one came up, except he wouldn't be making his way all the way up the stairs. Theo threw the man back with his telekinesis, making him fall over the stairs when he would have been lucky not to have broken or fractured something with in his body, of course, that didn't matter very much anyway as Theo turned the air around the man into a steel, binding him to the ground. Theo also turned the air that was in the man's lungs into a liquid and forced his jaw shut. Killing the man by drowning him slowly.

Before any of the other soldiers could do anything to help their comrade Theo forced them apart. Turning the air in the stairwell to concrete, blocking the two groups off from each other. For the time being Theo didn't care all that much for the group on the lower level, he could deal with them later, first, he has to murder the people on the same level as him.

"Now to take them down individually or as a group? Options, oh options. I feel like being cruel, let's desegregate one of them." He thought. While Theo was strategizing the leader of the group ordered them to split up, two groups of two and then he would go in along. Hmm, I need to kill him first, set an example for the rest of them, and to scare them some more if any of them can get scared." Before the squad could split up Theo used his a mix of his telekinesis and transmutation to liquidate his insides. He spat out blood in a matter of seconds and collapsed on to the floor.

"Sarge? You ok? Sarge?" said one of the soldiers in pure horror. Theo, using his telekinesis, took control of the dead body's movements, "Oh, no. I'm just peachy. My insides are a liquid now, I've just died, and now I've been taken over by a somewhat psychopathic mutant who has a blood lust and won't be taking any prisoners alive now will he?" With that, Theo raised the dead man's arm and all the remaining soldiers. Making it look like the dead man was a mutant as well, using telekinesis to levitate the men.

"Now let's see here, what of what to do?" Said the dead man, "Oh I know just what to do with this one." He said as he walked over to one of the men. He grabbed him by the chin. This one looked a lot like the President. Theo knew that his father couldn't commit treason, the man was no politician but he would have known better than that. Let alone, Theo knew that the president would have ordered CADMUS to have his dad arrested and if he could cover it up, have him and the whole family killed. And right now, this person death was the only way Theo could relieve his emotional stress, even if it was very unhealthy.

The dead man threw him to the floor. Pinning him down with Telekinesis, Theo turned the dead man's foot into a lead spike. He then forced the dead man to repeatedly kick the presidential looking like fellow in the face. He only made it stop after the only thing that remained what a bloodied mess that would, which no doubt, be permanently staining the carpet.

"Well, that enough." Yelled out Theo's voice thru the house. The dead man's body dropped to the floor and Theo revealed himself, he had been hidden inside of the wall, as his hiding spot collapsed around himself he continued to speak, "Well then, I think I've had quite enough of all of this bloodshed." With that, the remaining soldiers had dropped to piles of ash.

He walked over to the stairwell. Throwing the concrete block he had formed here into the air, flipping it over serval times in the process, it landed on a tank that had been ordered to come to the mansion after the bloodshed had started. As Theo walked down the stairs he raised his hands in surrender. He looked calm but, on the inside, he was a completely different story. His emotion where all over the place, you don't simply walk out of a massacre with no feelings at all, even if there was no guilt there. He could feel Mode was coming, he was only hoping he could keep him in for a just a few more seconds.

Walking to the center of the road, he put his knees down with his hands still in the air. All the CADMUS officers there thought he was surrendering, now it was just the question of if they should kill him on the spot or take him in, after all his Transmutation powers could prove useful, what with just needing the particles to make something appear seemingly out of thin air.

A CADMUS soldier walked up to him, but before he could start saying all the things that you say when you arrest someone, Theo spoke, "It may look like I'm surrendering here, but, as you'll all soon find out, this is just part of my plan to kill you all." And with that Theo snapped his fingers and a blinding ball of light formed around him. Theo had given up his control over his body for the time being. All that would remain when the light faded would be the Mode, and it was ready to fight.

[Talchyon]

Driving on the highway
Phoenix, Arizona
Richard Weinkauf (aka "The Artisan")

There are sometimes a person gets an eerie feeling, such as if the hairs are standing up on the back of his neck, but he doesn't know why. Things don't add up. A person says one thing but something gives it away that he is lying.

For Richard Weinkauf, now was one of those times. Approached by two men calling themselves F.B.I. Agents, who did have what looked like appropriate credentials, Richard had climbed into their car to be questioned. Questioned about... something. He had apparently been a witness to a person who had committed a crime, running away? But Richard had seen nothing. At first, he was certain that it was a case of mistaken identity. Someone looking like Richard had been in the general area and had seen someone, but Richard had not.

But if that were the case, and these two men were F.B.I. Agents wanting to interview Richard so as he could make a witness I.D., they shouldn't have been nervous as hell in the front seat. Agent Creighton, the seemingly friendly one with the hard eyes, was turned around and was keeping Richard in full view as they drove. Agent White, the burly African-American man closer to middle age than his 20's, couldn't help but glance back at Richard in the rearview, often. Creighton would say pleasantries, and dodge all of Richard's questions when they got too specific. Every so often, they spoke to each other in whispers. While Richard couldn't hear what they were saying, he could see that they were on edge.

Another thing that seemed out of place was all the technical gauges and sensors in the front. Granted, the F.B.I. likely needed a good signal antenna on their car to stay in touch with the Bureau. But Richard counted at least 9 different machines hooked up at the front, with needle gauges at various levels, and he had never seen anything like it.

Not to mention the fact that a few darkly colored vans pulled close, boxing the gray 4-door in. And Richard thought he saw out of the corner of his eye Agent White briefly glance over and nod at one of the other van drivers.

With all this, Richard was wondering if he had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He started thinking about Rodin. While his mind wasn't on the sculptures back at the museum so much, surely he saw enough to concentrate on, right? Richard would just close his eyes, concentrate on one of the Rodin pieces in the exhibit, and artport back to the museum. Then he could get his car, get some things, and go out of town. Or crash at a friend's place and lay low. But as much as he concentrated, Richard remained there in the car. He went nowhere.

He called it "artportation". It seemed to bring him to museums where the painting or sculpture was hanging, or the gift shop where it was in a print or a poster decorating the walls, or sometimes to a scene that was like that which had been painted or sculpted. And Richard wasn't always able to artport unless he was concentrating on the details of the work. But this soon after being in a museum, even with his head in the clouds, Richard was sure that he could remember at least one of Rodin's sculpted figures. And he did. The details were clear in his mind. But Richard's ability to physically move himself by concentrating on art did nothing, which was what his chances of getting out of this were beginning to look like.

Vanguard Extraction Team
Phoenix, AZ

"How long can someone look at color on a page? He's been in there for over an hour!"

Paladin and Prophet were busy playing a game of cards in the back of the van. Arsenal was behind the wheel fiddling with a contraption of some sort, and Quill was watching the entrance to the Art Gallery through a pair of binoculars.

"Lots of people like art, It can give a glimpse into the soul of another person."

"Did you read that off a hallmark card, Arsenal?"

Paladin called from the back, "Knock it off you two. You squabble more than the kids at camp."

The men gave a small sound of indignation and went back to their tasks.

"Head's up he's on the move, wait. Shit, CADMUS has him, he just got into that car."

The Team jumped into action. The van pulled away from the curb and started driving down the street a few car lengths behind the car containing Richard. Paladin's Armor formed and Prophet summoned the Void armor. The back of the van filled with a soft blue and gold glow. Three black vans had assembled around the car, and the motorcade was headed for a nearby CADMUS field office.

"Doesn't CADMUS line their vehicles with that power-dampening tech? Quill asked the two men in the back.

The response came from Arsenal, "Yeah, we have to bust him out, and I have an idea."

The Vanguard Van pulled ahead of the CADMUS motorcade thanks to some aggressive driving. "Prophet, Paladin; get ready. Quill, Take the Wheel."

"Wait, What?"

Arsenal opened the door and jumped out. His robotic arm hit the pavement, and he slid to a stop in a shower of sparks. He jumped up and he was directly in front of the oncoming CADMUS car. He extended his metal hand and opened his fist; green static jumped along his arm and the car deconstructed itself going down the road. Every bolt, every piece of the car separated itself from another and levitated apart, and traveled down the road at the same speed. At the same instant, Richard began to fall out of his seat. A breach opened and closed to reveal Paladin standing in the street. He held up his left arm and his shield disappeared; before Richard's body hit the pavement, a golden glow encapsulated his body and he rolled on the pavement unscathed.

Just when things were looking pretty unavoidable for Richard, the most unusual thing began to happen. First, the car was covered in some green electricity, but he and everyone else was unharmed. It didn't seem to do anything to the machines with the gauges that Richard had no clue what they did. And then, the car began to quaver as it drove down the highway. A little tremor here, a larger tremor there, and pretty soon (Richard had no idea what was going on), but the car was falling to pieces. That included his seat, the seat belts, the windows buttons and automatic locks, followed by the engine, the doors, and everything else. In other circumstances, Richard might have wondered if this was some shoddy import from Venezuela or something, or if American car-manufacturers had finally sunk to the level of third world countries. But due to his imminent danger, Richard had more important things on his mind. Like living.

And then, Richard found himself resting on a golden bed of light, covering him. The golden bed slowed his velocity, and gradually and gently set him down. He rolled over some with the velocity and inertia he still had, before standing up on knees perhaps a little too wobbly for comfort. And there before him, were a group of men, one of whom was a giant with a silvery-haired beard of all things!

Arsenal clenched his fist and the disassembled car crushed together into a ball of scrap metal. Paladin stopped the sliding metal with his foot and rematerialized his Sheild. Prophet opened another breach and stepped out at Richard's side. "Mr. Weinkauf we're here to rescue you."

Whatever was happening, it was clear to Richard that his life was now going to be much different than it had been. The eerie feelings he had had in the car was a sign to him. Things he had seen on the news or online were now going to be a part of his life. Despite his attempts to hide, he had been found. And this group of men were like him. They had unique gifts as well. That in itself was a surprise. Richard was the only one he knew that could do anything. But he was going to have to act quick. A split-second decision was needed, with the kind of communication gear he had seen in the possibly-fake F.B.I. car and the fact that backup wouldn't be far away. Whoever these folks were, they knew his name and were trying to keep him from the men who claimed to be F.B.I.

It was an easy choice. Sad, in a sense, because his whole life was going to be on the run now. But a choice that had to be made.

Richard said, "Thank you." He climbed in the van, and then looked out at his rescuers. "Well? Aren't you coming along? We can talk on the way."

The men exchanged looks with each other, and then climbed into the van, and began to drive a different way.

[The Cyberiad Council]

Cypher
Chicago, IL

Cypher stopped on the street at the mention of the captured super. Damn, he thought. He knew that he needed to get to Nebraska as quickly as possible, but this just complicated things. He had something very important to get to Angela, but he couldn't stand to let someone fall into CADMUS hands. "Alex, is the powered person still in the airport containment cell, or have they already transferred him?" He took off walking again at a faster pace. He was beginning to formulate a plan, but his powers were beyond his use. He was intelligent regardless, but not smart enough.

[Arengin Union]

Omega Horizon Administration Building, Downtown Chicago.

Manuel Garcia, the mercenary that had been part of the team that had tried to capture Stephanie was using his own rifle as a crutch to get inside the OH building. He limped as other soldiers followed him and thought they offered their help to him he would simply keep moving and not even notice them. The man kept moving as security opened door after door he was going through, his patch with the red symbol gave him a clear level of authority.

Manuel made it to the medical bay and was immediately being attended by the personnel on his leg. He didn't even grunt as they began to inject morphine into the wound and began to clean it. The soldiers on his side then handed him a tablet which activated and showed a live chat with an unknown person.

"Mission report Hunter 1." The voice said.

"There was a bit of a complication sir..." Manuel said as he began to check the massive rifle and opened the bolt to release a bullet case.

"Yes, that was obvious from your lack of communication to us. Did you get any information on Subject 13?" The man on the chat replied.

"No sir... I was unable to fully implement questioning before hostile mutants attacked the convoy. They seemed to also be part of the so called "Vanguard" I was injured and lost at least 15 men in the operation sir..." Manuel said in a very tired voice.

"I see... We shall replenish your loses and provide you with all the necessary assets Hunter 1. We have assessed the situation on the Vanguard. Our new partnership with CADMUS is something that has forced us to re-assign our forces to provide assistance for CADMUS. You shall begin operations in Chicago to crack down on this rouge mutant cell. A group of CADMUS agents shall assist with this altercation and we expect to see results soon. Do not worry about subject 13, we already have that covered. Olympus out." The chat was then promptly cut, Manuel simply set the tablet aside his men exiting the room and closing the door, in that moment the pain from the pincers and laser cauterizers began to kick in, Manuel finally yelled from the immense pain.

After a painful procedure Manuel's leg was back together, not exactly naturally as he now had an exoskeleton on it that helped him walk. It would aid him in walking and running. These were the perks of working with Omega Horizon, rapid medical attention and the best exoskeletons money could buy. Manuel was helped up from his well chair by a nurse but he quickly pulled his arm away and quickly got up. He got out of the room and his men were waiting for him, drinking water or smoking a cigar, they looked at Manuel, the man had seen some shit and his eyes didn't lie. He walked right through the hall and everyone stepped away from his direction.

"Whats out next target sir?" A soldier asked.

Manuel took a short paused. He then spoke, "We go after them and kill every single one." He continued walking.

[Futrellia]

Iron Owl
Seattle, WA
2043

---

By the time he had heard the shot, he was already struck. His upper torso flew backward, sending him into a full backflip, ending at just the right time for his back to slam into one of the sheetmetal plates still standing vertical. His body pummeled the pavement, causing the wind to be knocked out of him so hard, he felt like death was creeping onto him. Suddenly, brutal and vicious impacts hit his back twice, forcing him to let out a strained growl, unable to exert any noise from his mouth. He could feel the blood beginning to seep from his mouth inside his helmet.

In response, Ollie spun the IronJet around, scanning the rooftop in an attempt to find the shooter and use the darts to put him on the ground. Without finding any evidence of the man except for the hot empty casings that laid on the gravel floor, the Jet lowered, activating the magnetic plating that always pulled Owl in. By this time, Iron Owl was already unconscious, the lack of oxygen and shock of the impacts had caused him to go into a death-like stillness. The IronJet was able to pull the knocked out Owl in just as the first of the police cruisers pulled in, officers jumping out to watch the vehicle pull up, surrounding Owl in it's cocoon. Immediately, the Jet began to use it's medical suites, scanning for brain activity, a pulse, amount of blood loss, even X-ray capabilities to determine where the rounds had landed inside of him.

"Contacting Dr. Williams. Scanning for damage. Damage found. Bullet 1 successfully stopped by the new upgrades, Bullets 2 and 3 penetrated armor and hypodermis, landing 1 inch to the right of C3, Cervical Spine. The other landing 0.787 inches to the left from L2, Lumbar Spine, triaging as needed. Sending report to Dr. Williams." Ollie did his medical scans and nothing more could be done for him. The IronJet was meant to help keep him alive should anything like this happen, not perform surgery. Luckily, Richard had a Doctor friend he met in Nigeria. A former Doctor Without Borders, Dr. Williams is Iron Owl's lifeline.

Going as fast as the Jet could go, they flew over areas of the city that were still burning. With Iron Owl's efforts, the Seattle police and fire departments managed to get a hold on the war in the city. With the IronJet's assistance in taking down streets full of gangsters and putting down the Ravager and 10th Street Red gangs outside City Hall, the Police regrouped and hammered down on those still fighting, with Fire and EMS personnel coming in after to put out the fires and triage injured officers and civilians. For the most part, Seattle would survive. Many of it's streets torn and battered, a dozen or more officers dead, several dozen wounded, but yet, control had been re-established by the efforts of Iron Owl. Within 5 minutes of the trip from the Warehouse, the IronJet entered the abandoned Industrial district, quietly tucked away and hidden in a cluster of ruined buildings, the remnants of Old Seattle.

Excluding the possibility of ejecting him through the trap door like normal, the IronJet's wings collapsed as the pod-like vehicle descended down into the ruined gas tower, as the tower was about to curve inward, the cradle caught it, using it's brakes to slow the Jet down to a controllable speed. As it reached back inside the Owl's Nest, the same robotic arms that helped armed the Jet before they departed, was now gently lowering an unresponsive Owl from the opened pod.

"Establishing clean medical area, retrieving proper tools for successful operation, Dr. Williams 3 minutes out." Said Ollie over the speakers in the secured command center. The 6 robotic arms were attached to a rolling pad, manually operated by Ollie as they formed a cot-like webbing that allowed him to be moved with as little movement in the impacted areas as possible. In unison, the arms lowered Owl face down gently unto the table, a bright white light shined down, illuminating the entire area. Carefully, the arms began removing his helmet and chest piece, manually unstrapping it instead of allowing it to automatically release his torso. The helmet's base loosened it's grip around his neck, allowing the helmet to be removed, a small pool of blood splashing down onto the floor from the helmet, the blood still dripping from his mouth.

Instead of removing the torso piece completely, they bent it to the sides to keep it out of the Doctor's way, as it would prove too much of a strain for his spine if they had to move him to remove the piece.

"Establishing monitors, establishing pulse, retrieving saline solution and B-positive blood, Doctor Williams has arrived, opening door." Said Ollie, the arms scooting around the room to retrieve the various needed medical equipment.

With a hissing sound, the ceiling/floor of the entrance opened up, showing an older man wearing a blue button-up shirt, a green vest, and khaki-colored pants, his doctors bag in his right hand, a cigarette in the other.

"Boy, you picked one hell of a time to get fucked up, Richard." Said the Doctor, taking a quick puff of his cigarette before descending down the last of the stairs, fully aware that Richard probably couldn't hear him.

"Doctor, cigarettes are in contradiction to maintaining a clean working area." Said Ollie

"Bite my ass, Ollie. I don't have time for that. I work better when I smoke anyway. That's why I have a 50% success rate at the hospital, 'cus they don't lemme smoke." Williams said, setting his bag on an empty table and pulling it's sides open, revealing a variety of surgical tools: scalpels, clamps, suction tips, staplers, and graspers.

"Administering numbing, inserting blood and saline lines. Heart rate is steady, 32 per minute. Ready for you, Doctor." Said Ollie, moving the arms back into the positions.

"Alright, Ricky. Let's bring you back from the long dark." He said, beginning his cuts. He wouldn't stop until the operation was completed.

1 hour, 45 minutes later

---

Exhausted and tired from the precision of the work required, Dr. Williams plopped down into a nearby seat, allowing his bloody clamps and used needle to fall from his hand onto the concrete floor. He let out a pained sigh as he looked at Richard. The areas where the Doctor had cut open was sutured shut, the area around it purple. Richard's pulse had remained steady and increased by a few beats a minute.

"Vitals are normal, brain function is lowered." Ollie said.

"He's in a coma. He lost a lot of blood, some during transport here, most during the surgery. The kind of injuries those bullets left I.....I'm surprised I could save his ability to walk. He needs to rest. That's all we can do for him now, that's all anyone can do for him now." The doctor said, slouching down into the chair a bit, relaxing his pained spine from the bent over posture he had been in for a while. Ollie's robotic arm servants placed gauze and bandages over the areas and was able to flip him over very carefully, his body moving as if it were lifeless. They switched him to a more comfortable bed right next to the operating tray.

"I'll bring a nasogastric tube and some calorie feed. Keep him hooked to that saline and use the rest of that blood packet." The Doctor ordered.

They removed the last of his suit, allowing the leg pieces to release, picking them up and placing them on the armor rack. With slow, ragged breath, Richard Block was fighting to wake up, fighting to stay alive, fighting to recover from his night as the Iron Owl.

[Vanquaria]

Sonic Blade, NYC

Speaking from the heart Sonic Blade addressed the crowd of people from all walks of life. They all possessed different powers of sorts and were united by the threat of persecution and fear and anger for some.

‘Welcome my brethren to this auspicious gathering of sorts. All of you have understood and believe in the dream of revolution thus your coming here tonight.

The realisation of freedom is something that all oppressed have strove to achieve and it is something that has been achieved! Countless times throughout the course of human history! It is unfortunate however that our kind, mutant kind, homo melior, finds itself under persecution by those we once called brother and sister.

The mass emergence of homo melior began not so long ago in the 20th century. People with strange powers can be found documented in the deepest of archives. Evidence of homo melior though can be found throughout the ages! Yes, superhumans have existed since the dawn of the ancients, dwelling among side their lesser peers in all shapes and forms!

Why then, is the world experiencing an unprecedented rise of homo melior all of the sudden? The answer lies, my brethren, in science! Evolution! Homo sapiens have caused such damage to Mother Earth that nature rightfully dictates that their kind, inferior if I am to be polite, must be replaced by another stronger breed of humans that will take the reins of this world.

This is the undisputable truth. This is why they hunt us, in America there is CADMUS. CADMUS is an organisation with many similarities to the infamous Nazi SS. Both government entities pursue an agenda of genocide against a specific group of humans, utilising unlawful imprisonment and inhumane acts against man, woman and child to fulfil that agenda! I have personally witnessed their crimes and have compiled a discriminating document of their crimes against humanity…but it will never be enough.

Why? Because CADMUS represents the inherent fear of the homo sapiens through the conduit of government! The President himself endorses and legalises their evil! And trust me when I tell you this is occurring all around the world.

There is only one thing that will save our people from extinction. That is thing is us, ladies and gentlemen! The Chosen have prepared themselves. Our army lies in waiting, entrenched within the heart of this so-called ‘land of freedom’, ready to initiate the greatest revolution this world has ever witnessed! I call upon you to join me and my companions as we return to one of our New York safehouses. From there you revolutionists shall be deployed across the nation to train for the war that will come soon. The most capable in terms of powers shall personally accompany as I rally our people! Come, you are the Chosen of the world!

Concluding his speech Sonic Blade stepped off the platform, under raucous cheering and applause back to the ground floor where he entered a black SUV in a convoy of different coloured SUVs. Soon the cars would leave for the Chosen’s NYC safehouse.

[Kenmoria]

Charles Smithson
Chicago

Chicago was in lockdown. The normally quite easy to fool checkpoints had become like impenetrable fortresses, each one guarded by at least one CADMUS officer with anti-super weaponry. The streets had police far more often and everywhere he looked he could see a newspaper brimming with anti-super sentiment. Once or twice Charles had even noticed billboards advertising the villainy of mutant kind. Despite this, he knew that if he was to carry out his mission then this rapidly increasing security had to be beaten. There must be a way, maybe there was, but for a mutant whose only power was translation it was virtually impossible. Even the more powerful supers Vanguard had contact with had been captured. Charles could list off their names, and it all happened in Chicago. Sometimes he wished he had sent to infiltrate the CADMUS servers somewhere more peaceful, like Wyoming. Still it was his task and it had to be completed.

Charles knew that there was no practical way to break into the building without being invited. That meant he would have to use bribery, blackmail or extortion. Trouble was, his powers weren’t dangerous enough for extortion, he didn’t have nearly enough money for bribery, and he didn’t know anything incriminating enough for blackmail. All of this meant that Charles could not get access to the building. Then a though struck him like a lightning bolt. Of course it was impossible for Charles to get in but for someone other than Charles it would be a piece of cake. Searching on the internet he found one of his oldest employers, back in the days when he worked for newspapers. He went onto their website and was pleasantly surprised to find they had not yet blocked his account, probably on account of them being based in Germany. He went onto their servers and entered an old work colleague’s password.

This particular friend looked incredibly similar to him and someone once said it looked as though they were brothers. Yes, this colleague would be perfect. He loaded up their identification card and opened photoshop. His speaking to the computer trick only worked on the raw command line so he had to do it manually, he edited it so it looked like a cross between the real person and Charles himself. Then he brought a hat, a scarf and tinted glasses to disguise his face. Looking in the mirror, Charles saw he looked almost nothing like himself, it wasn’t perfect and he knew anyone looking carefully would see through it but it was a good enough disguise to fool the CADMUS goons who would probably be more worried about repairing the building. The break-in could go ahead.

After renting a Mini Cooper, Charles drove towards the Chicago CADMUS headquarters. The task seemed easy, all he would have to do is gain access to the server room, input a memory stick of 5GB, wait for approximately two minutes, then make an excuse to leave. As he drove he formulated his plan; he would pretend to be a journalist documenting the efforts CADMUS was making to combating the so-called Vanguard terrorists. Much as it annoyed him, his character would gain entry to the server room by pretending to be looking at the damage the mutant insurgency caused. The plan was complex, could easily be defeated if CADMUS knew about it, and had multiple points of failure but it was Charles’ best and only chance.

With that thought, Charles prepared himself. He practised his German, though he knew the language better than any native speaker. Then he picked up a notepad and wrote some shorthand in it because it added to the illusion of being a trained journalist. The writing didn't actually mean anything but Charles was counting on them not reading it. After all the preparations were done and there was nothing more he could to to prepare himself for the task ahead, Charles drove to the Chicago CADMUS servers.

The building had a sleek, grey exterior, dotted with small slits which Charles guessed were for surveillance. The door was guarded by four CADMUS guards who were equipped with riot shields and rifles. The perimeter consisted of a metal fence with sharp spikes sticking out at unnatural angles. It looked as though a malevolent castle had met with a brutalist architect. Yet the impression was broken by construction workers dotted around the site and Charles could tell the building was understaffed since Cypher had given the previous employees an early retirement. "Guten tag," he said to the nearest CADMUS guard, one who looked slightly less warlike than the others, "I trust you are one of the employees of this building. Yes? Good, I need to speak with your manager of data. Why? Well I work for a German newspaper company that wishes to document the important work you are doing to combat the Vanguard terrorists." Charles stiffened imperceptibly as he said this but it seemed to do the trick. Everybody who was anybody in CADMUS knew that PR was the most important element of the company and it was probably for this reason the guard let him pass.

After spending about ten minutes arguing with the guards on the door over whether he had to take a blood test given that he was technically not an American citizen, Charles walked through the corridors. Following the agreement that he would not undergo the test but would have an armed escort at all times, Charles found himself being walked briskly through the corridors by fourteen heavily armed guards carrying anti-mutant rifles. It was not the most ideal situation but sadly it was the best one he had been able to improvise in a short time. It took around twenty minutes to get to the server room but it was worth it. The manager of data was not there for a few minutes which allowed Charles to covertly input the USB stick into a nearby socket whilst none of the guards were looking. When the manager finally arrived Charles asked him a few questions and mentioned the supposedly good work CADMUS was doing to combat Vanguard. He then began to leave the room after retrieving the USB stick and clicking send. He made it to the opening door when he found it locked. He turned to the guards who now had their rifles pointed towards him. "Charles Smithson, please do not resist." Charades had no choice but to not resist.

[The Arks]

Garret Wolman/ Wolfenstein
In a little town west of Seattle, WA
2043

"Here ya go, pops" The young waitress said, setting down a plate of pancakes, sausages, and a couple of over-easy eggs in front of Garret. She held a glass bottle of coke in her hand, the bottle opener in the other as she game him a weird look."Are you sure you don't want a coffee or something? It's seven in the morning-- kind of early for soda, don't ya think?"

"Never liked coffee. Love the smell, hate the taste." Garret said, smiling as she shrugged and set the now opened bottle on the table. "Thanks, Cheryl."

The waitress looked taken aback at the fact that he knew her name, her mouth opened speechless. He tapped his chest where a name tag would be, and she looked down at her own name tag and laughed. Garret chuckled and turned to his food, eating it slowly. At about 7:45, the phone in the diner rang, and the waitress answered it. She looked puzzled, and then looked up to the six patrons in the diner. "Is anyone here named Paulson?"

Garret got up out of his booth and took the phone from her, thanking her as he grabbed a napkin and a pen. He quickly jotted down the address that the person on the other end gave, and slipped the napkin into his pocket. Hanging up the phone, he walked back over to his booth, now frustrated. The sum of money was so large-- 10 million-- that the Syndicate was making him pick it up from one of their underbosses, rather than making the usual dead drop. That wouldn't be so frustrating if the underboss with the money wasn't on the other side of the country, in Chicago, where he couldn't get out of the city due to the lockdown. Garret had a long drive ahead of him-- but not before he finished this meal and left the waitress a generous tip.

[Kenmoria]

Charles Smithson
Chicago

A few days ago, Charles Smithson had been told to travel to Chicago. Upon arriving CADMUS had found out about his presence by a border checkpoint operator. Following this he was informed of his purpose in the state; he had been meant to break into the regional HQ and steal some information from their server room. Now he had completed this task and had been just about to leave. His mission was done and and all that should have been left was to travel back to Ohio and enjoy his normal Vanguard desk job. Of course, real life always has to have complications and difficulties. One of these was the fact that instead of strolling out the building, Charles had been apprehended by CADMUS and now found himself in front of the barrel of the gun.

Thinking quickly, Charles tried to trick his way out of the situation, "What are you talking about, I do not know any Charles Smithson. I am a trained journalist and demand to speak to the German embassy, then maybe you will see your mistake. This is unlawful detainment of a foreigner and I must have access to a lawyer." This seemed only to further encourage his captors who removed his glasses and then held up Charles' picture. Evidently the trickery tactic didn't work on the CADMUS guards who apparently had seen through his disguise from the beginning. He was lucky to have been able to insert the USB stick and send the data to Vanguard before they apprehended him. Charles noticed the guards were wielding batons capable of emitting a hyper-sonic sound which meant they must have known about his translation abilities.

Seeing their anti-sound weaponry, he tried threatening, "Very well you have countered my translation spell but I still have many other arcane devices in my arsenal. If you do not let me go I shall summon the demon Azeroth who shall feast upon your blood. Nobody? Well then you will see the full extent of my powers. Placant, ingentem vim daemonium Azaroth ex malo, et qui in conviviis vestris et sanguis in manibus tuis," The guards did not appear at all fazed by the string of Latin which Charles had genuinely translated. He chanted some more which replaced the guards' expression of mild anger to one of boredom.

Whilst they were distracted Charles tried to run away but did not count upon them realising; this resulted in nothing more than a small prick where one of the guards had grabbed him. Feeling sore he grabbed his walking stick and pondered about his situation. Charles then had two realisations, the first was that CADMUS had probably already told the guards all he could do was translate so trying to trick them was useless, the second translation was that being grabbed does not result in a prick. After quickly looking around, he saw a needle filled with sedatives stuck into his arm. Swearing in Chinese, Charles fell to the floor.

---

Charles Smithson
Chicago
CADMUS state headquarters

Hours later, Charles awoke in a cell with a minor headache. The room he was in measured only 2 metres by 2 metres and was furnished by two low-lying blocks. He assumed by the dimensions one was their interpretation of a bed, the other a chair. Sitting down on the chair, though it was nothing more than a cube and didn't really deserve the title of furniture, Charles tried to think of an escape route. This looked to be difficult. There were no sharp objects, indeed there was nothing other than the bed and chair as they had confiscated his walking stick, and the only reason Charles knew a door existed was by a 1mm rectangular indent where it would normally be. This meant there were no hinges to attempt to manipulate and no lock to try and pick using his fingernail. Charles tried to move the chair in case he could use that to ram the door but realised it must be part of the room and thus immovable as he could see no line where it and the floor met. The same appeared to be true for the bed.

Scraping his right hand across the plain, grey walls, Charles noticed it was almost entirely frictionless, a feat which also held true to the floor and ceiling which told him they were made of the same material. Charles was about to hit the walls before thinking better. He knew from his experiences as a Vanguard administrator that they would be made of a carbon nanotubes filled with a hexagonal lattices made of bonded neutrons. Although Charles had no idea what any of those words meant; he knew it was nigh-indestructible and would reform into its original shape and size within at least 20 seconds of it being miraculously dented. It was also fireproof, fully insulated against both electricity and any sounds lower than two thousand kilohertz. The material also had remarkable applications in heat control as it has perfect thermoregulation; the heat inside the room would be constant for at least 30 years.

Charles had no idea how long he had been in there, the light was constant and was emitted from a tiny dot above the door. Any thoughts of breaking it and using the remains for something were shattered when he discovered it also had the same lack of friction as the walls. Thus meaning it was covered in a transparent layer of the same carbon nanotube material and therefore also had a strength slightly higher than titanium. This meant that escape was impossible, at least from the inside. Even if he was a super with the power to defeat 1,000 troops of the US army it would probably still be impossible. Despite this, Charles had no doubt that the cell was not impenetrable and so could be broken into from the outside. If help ever came that was, even though he had managed to send the data to Vanguard there a no way for them to know he had been captured and even if they did they would not know where he was. His tracker had been taken off him when he entered as they did with all high level prisoners.

This brought an interesting thought to Charles. As he had deduced he was a high-level prisoner, that was the reason for him to be contained within a room such as this. Normally this sort of arrangement was reserved for supers with powers such as control over gravity or the ability to turn their bodies into pure diamond, not mutants with the power of translation. Besides his ability didn't really work in here, whenever he used it he always got a strong headache. Although Charles had still learnt 7 languages the normal way, every other tongue was closed to him. But that was besides the point, what was important was figuring out why CADMUS would choose to use this cell for Charles as opposed to someone stronger, it could have been because the guards believed his lies about controlling magic but that was unlikely. What had a far higher likelihood of being true was that the organisation has discovered that Charles was a valued administrator for Vanguard and were keeping him here until they stopped looking for him. When that happened he would most likely be transferred to a lower security cell, for that he was grateful, though he was certain that day would not come for at least a week.

[The Cyberiad Council]

Driving on the highway
Phoenix, Arizona
Vanguard Extraction Team and Richard Weinkauf (aka "The Artisan")

It was an easy choice. Sad, in a sense, because his whole life was going to be on the run now. But a choice that had to be made.
Richard said, "Thank you." He climbed in the van, and then looked out at his rescuers. "Well? Aren't you coming along? We can talk on the way."
The men exchanged looks with each other, and then climbed into the van, and began to drive a different way.

Quill Stepped on the gas, and they peeled away from the scene.

They went on in silence for the first few minutes. Paladin let his armor fade away, and Prophet allowed his to do return to the void. Richard didn't look any worse for wear, a little wide eyed perhaps, but he was taking in in stride. He was going to fit right in.

Nate was the first to speak, he offered his hand, "Mr. Weinkauf, I'm Nathaniel Peterson but call me Nate."

Richard extended his hand in return. "A pleasure. Richard Weinkauf, former art teacher. But I'm guessing you already knew that." Richard wondered to himself if he was being kidnapped, and by a group of destructive mutants. If he were a betting man, he would have assumed probably not. Most kidnappers don't pleasantly introduce themselves, at least what he imagined kidnappers to be like, having never met one.

Arsenal called from the front passenger seat "Oh you're an art teacher? Maybe you can teach pointy here some art appreciation."

"Can-it metal hand!" At this exchange, Richard's outlook got a little more serious, remembering recent events. But his perspective had only hardened a few seconds, and then he went back to the previous look he had. He doubted anyone noticed it.

"Knock it off you two!" Paladin's voice shook the car. "Please excuse our associates. That is Quill behind the wheel, and Arsenal is the one with the mechanical arm; I am Willam Nantz. Mr. Weinkauf, what do you know of CADMUS?"

Addressing the silvery haired, bearded giant, Richard looked up and said, "Only what I've seen on the news. Some government agency I guess. They seem about as crooked as everyone in the government."

Paladin gave a disheartened chuckle. "Those men back there, they were sent to capture you, detain you, and torture you. CADMUS; they have been hunting people like us for decades. We are the Vanguard." Richard looked a little surprised but not quite alarmed at the mention of the 'terrorist' group. Still, Paladin held up his hands, "Please allow me to explain. We are the victims of half truths and twisted words. We are terrorists no more than those abolitionist individuals who ran the underground railroad. We are freedom fighters against a government who wants us exterminated, who want you exterminated."

Richard snorted. "Yeah, I didn't think those guys were F.B.I. like they said. Those fake I.D.s were pretty good. Anyway, I can relate to what you say. I don't believe half of what the news media puts out. They're just as corrupt. Twisting stories to fit their own twisted agendas. Trying to control us like puppets. And most people buy what they say. They haven't been taught how to think. So if the news media is calling Vanguard as terrorists, I'm pretty sure Vanguard is not. The only problem I have with Vanguard is that it's been reported that the ACLU is supporting you guys. If those nutcases are supporting you, is that a good thing?"

It was Nate who replied, "We are at war, Mr. Weinkauf. If they will help us in the way that they've promised, We would be foolish to denounce it."

Richard responded, "I see. Like, the enemy of your enemy is your friend. Well, as long as they keep their politics out of it, I guess that's ok. So, now that you've rescued me, which, I am thankful to you for, what now? I can't go back to what I was doing. They found me, and they could again." (Thinking to himself that it honestly was not that much of a loss to leave behind his home behind, other than his original artwork he had that decorated his apartment).

Paladin, as the most senior member of the Vanguard present, replied. "We have a camp that we will take you to for safety. We don't force anyone there against their will, but the alternative is being left to defend for yourself against CADMUS. We are going to make one more stop..."

Arsenal cut him off, "Scratch that. We just got a call. The mutant has become an active threat, multiple dead. We are being ordered to bring Mr. Weinkauf to camp before engaging." At hearing this, Richard wondered what kind of group he was now part of.

Quill changed lanes and got onto an off ramp, headed back towards Nebraska.

"Well, Mr. Weinkauf, You are going to get to see camp sooner than we thought. Oh! Before I forget, are there any personal belongings that you need collected from your home? Nate can cross great distances quickly; he can bring anything you need from your home or car and meet us at camp."

Richard wondered if his original artwork and supplies would be considered as needed personal belongings. He decided it wouldn't hurt to ask. "I have a few medical things, some cholesterol pills and things like that. But I don't know if I need those, anyway. Then, there are some other things. Not exactly needs, but precious to me. Some original artwork of mine, and some art supplies. If you say that's not worth it, I will understand and make do with what I can. As for camp, well, after what you say, I think I would be pleased to go there. But I might also of help to you in this matter with the dangerous man."

"I knew I liked you! Quill, turn around, we're headed to silicon valley!"

"I'll get your stuff." Prophet gave a smile and disappeared in the swirling mass of a breach."