Young Bloods(IC, Reboot Open)

[The Republic of Atria]

N'Toak

"Personally, I don't see why you're so bent on this. What's the big deal if Onu wants to wear human clothes?" Bael asked as they made their way to the roof. As they did, he once again got a good look at the wonderful city. Tiny dots in the distance that he could only assume were people all flying around buildings. Were it not for his many friends and team, he would consider moving here for good. His admiration of the city was interrupted by Kaban.

"If I'm being honest, I don't know why it bothers me so much. I think she's just spent too much time around them, and I don't want her dragging human problems to us. Now come on, you can stare into the distance all you want when we get back. I've been looking forward to this all day." He said and took off. "Hurry up if you still want to come. I'm going regardless." Bael jumped off and followed him, flying just behind him. "Seems like you're enjoying the city well enough. Though I imagine you still want to go stay with your friends?" He asked, looking behind him, checking to see if the boy was still following.

"Yes." Bael replied. "They're still my friends. I didn't have too many of those growing up, and it would be pretty rude to just leave them. Plus I still have the problem that I don't know anyone here. there's going to be a decent adjustment period, which will be made even longer since I do plan on spending most of my time back in San Diego. And since Orro didn't tell me, I'm going to ask you: Where are we going? Please don't tell me it's some sort of brothel or weird thing like that." Orro probably would have told him if it was. "Because if it is-" He was once again interrupted by his large friend.

There was a good few seconds where it looked like Kaban was going to fall out of the sky from laughing too hard. Which only served to make Bael feel awkward. "Hehehehe... no, Bael. It's nothing like that. That would be the last place I would ever take you. No offense, but it definitely does not suit you. You'll have to wait and see." He mused knowingly. "I already told your parents and Orro about where I planned on taking you. They all agreed that you would almost certainly enjoy it, and if not that, you probably need it as well. Besides, by the time I explained what it is, we'll be there."

"Alright... Fine." He did feel relieved that at least Kaban spoke with his parents about what he was going to do before he dragged him along. If they agreed to it, then it might not be that bad. They landed on a building that had a holographic sign. It took Bael a second to read it against the brightness of the day, but it seemed to translate to "Sun's Rock." There was a graphic of what appeared to be a green female lying on her stomach on some sort of gray slab. It still hadn't hit him what exactly went on in there, but nevertheless he followed Kaban into the building.

The larger of the pair approached the counter. "We have a reservation for two today. Should be under Kaban." He spoke to the female clerk. "This is my friend, Bael." Kaban said, pulling him forward by his shoulder. "He's never been here before." The clerk smiled and glanced at Bael who immediately broke eye contact and stared at an unusually interesting spot on the floor while his tail flicked around. "He's a bit shy."

She smiled warmly at the young man who still seemed interested in the floor rather than her. "I think he'll warm up quickly. If you'll follow me." She spoke, walking away from the counter. Kaban followed, as did Bael, albeit only looking up enough to see that he wasn't going to bump into Kaban or step on his tail. Once they actually entered the main area, Bael immediately understood what was happening. He saw many people, male and female alike, sometimes as couples, lying on large stone slabs which were under what appeared to be a heat lamp, presumably napping. So maybe Kaban actually had a good idea. And maybe... A nice place to bring Sina.

"Here we go." Spoke the woman who guided them. "Just lie down and relax. And here." She offered to more circular looking runes. "These will let you adjust the heat to your liking. Gently press and hold the top to decrease the heat. Tap it to increase it by a few degrees. You both are paid for an hour. If you need assistance, just ask for one of us to help you. Enjoy!" She spoke.

"Of course." Kaban nodded and gleefully climbed on top of his, immediately flopping down on his chest, sprawled out and limp. Bael watched and did the same, though a bit more careful with how h climbed on. Like Kaban, he sprawled out on the stone, turning up the heat to his liking and closed his eyes.

It was pretty nice.

[Valefontaine]

Hugo Holydiver Henderson
Grestol Komarov International Airport
__________________________________

Normally, Hugo would've found the notion of riding first-class on a Boeing 777 for a few hours incredibly soothing. While it wasn't as amenity-rich or advanced as the 787, or as iconic to 20th century jet-era allure as the 747, it certainly performed its role with elegance and splendor. The beauties and intricacies of airliners was beyond the point, however — the realization had dawned on him a few hours into the flight that he'd boarded the wrong plane. Maybe he'd misread something along the way, or perhaps Fate had something in store. Clumsiness like this of Hugo was a paradoxical affair — he was either incredibly composed, or suffered incredibly comedic affairs as what'd just transpired. It would've been worse if he'd been carrying luggages with him (he despised the bulky things), but Hugo had no need to carry anything beyond his $1,400 Louis Vuitton™ Avenue Sling Bag, which held a few essentials, including his Eternity Scroll.^[1] This, of course, meant getting on the right flight would be as simple as confronting airport staff the moment he'd landed. No need to break a sweat over baggage lost in another airport. Nevertheless, this affair was troublesome.

He'd been scheduled to attend a few things in Novosibirsk — a gala, a fashion expo, and a few charity dos among them — and this little incident was about to be of serious inconvenience to his incredibly valuable timetable. He watched the city below with mild disinterest, somewhat miffed his schedule would be so thoroughly disrupted. Judging by the map on his in-flight entertainment screen, they'd passed Novosibirsk by a huge margin, perhaps by two or three hours to his estimates. The architecture was of some attraction to Hugo's bored eyes — uninspired row after row of Khrushchyovka aside (even if they'd certainly, and perhaps unintentionally, become a distinct aesthetical aspect reflective of post-Soviet misère in their own right), there were a few brutalist pieces that certainly caught his eye. No doubt it'd been of that bygone era, though he also took note of the newer, more modernist (and, at times postmodernist) architectural displays below. The airport was one such example, seeming to bear tributes to certain visionaries with its dualistic flair. In some aspects, he could note a certain Minoru Yamasaki chic — while other facets bore more tribute and dedication to visionaries like I. M. Pei, albeit with a distinctly Bauhaus touch. Architecture was of great fascination to Hugo, but that went without saying. He took pleasure in all things material — the beauty of mankind's innovation was undeniably embedded in his creations.

Gristol? Grestol? Never before have I heard of such a place. How did they manage to get their own international airport, anyway? The scene in this city must be such a bore. He thought. The subject of the city he'd unintentionally found himself headed towards also was of curiosity to him. It was large enough to sustain an airport, yes — yet also seemed so insignificant that he'd never before heard of such a city. Now that he thought of it, perhaps he had; but nothing beyond distant mentions and headlines of someone accidentally getting themselves killed by pissing off wildlife, or a man selling his daughter for a heroin fix. It was big, yet simultaneously not — quite paradoxical, in the same fashion that most a foreigner would have little to say or care about places like Changsha, Denver, or Laredo.

Watching with disappointment as the runway became closer and closer, Hugo prepared himself for the usual disembark routine — knowing full well this inconvenience would need to be repeated once again in a few hours after he'd finish explaining to customs how he'd gotten on the wrong flight. He had a certain distaste for customs officers. Their unappealing uniforms, typically uncouth demeanors, and the certain kick they got pulling you aside if you looked at them funny. Certainly, they were to him among the bottom-feeders of a government's vast bureaucratic tendrils.

The aircraft touched down, landing gear meeting runway as the plane eventually slowed, commencing routine taxiing procedure. It was late noon, and a light snow was descending upon the city from what Hugo could see through the window. The aircraft slowed as it taxiied upon the tarmac, soon coming to a halt at the jet-bridge.

As soon as they were cleared to disembark, Hugo made his way out, getting past the usual formalities of customs to find himself in the usual airport bustle. Couples, lone tourist types, shady folk — nothing unlike the typical mid-tier airport. He made his way to the nearest of the glowing photoelectronic screens listing in digital fashion the arrivals and departures — surely it wouldn't be hard to get a quick flight to Novosibirsk.

This was interrupted, however, as two explosions sounded off, bringing Hugo's attention to the windows. Certainly it wasn't close enough to kill him, yet by the sound it was surely close enough to see. Two fireballs descended off in the distance — aircraft, perhaps? The effect culminated in immediate panic in the airport. Amid the panic and disorder, it wasn't long before the screens displayed all flights as 'CANCELED' ...

What a bother. Hugo stepped away from the screen, turning his attention to the exit. His schedule was fucked now for sure. Perhaps he could see if anything interesting was going on in this 'Grestol' place. He adjusted his $4,500 Gucci™ flannel jacket. It would be a little cold outside this time of year, after all, especially with his custom-made^[2] $10,000 finely-crafted silk sweater.

Making for the exit, he made certain to fetch a map of the city off an infostand first. Even from a distance, he could see the glowing pink neon sign of a certain bar. It immediately attracted his attention. Perhaps it was a little tacky, maybe tasteless — that hue of pink had become overdone a few decades ago, perhaps a more reddish touch would've been more charming — but maybe he did need to have a drink and blow off some steam after such a serious inconvenience. He could ask about the explosion there, too!

---

CONTEXT NOTES

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1 - Eternity Scroll - The Eternity Scroll (万象绘卷) is among Hugo's most useful personal tools. The Eternity Scroll is the sole artifact — and most important thereof — of Sen Luo Temple, which Hugo's family once protected. It contains the sum of the temple's knowledge, and Hugo can enter the 'pocket space' at will by opening the scroll, giving him access to the many books contained within. This is vital to his maintaining of Neigong, as misinterpretation can only lead to deviation.

2 - custom-made - While Hugo obviously isn't significant enough to have his own clothing line, he does have the money and clout to have certain articles custom-tailored to his likings. One such article of clothing is his silk sweater, which adroitly capitalizes his physical form by only going down to his lower pectoral muscles, revealing quite plainly his rectus abdominis muscles. Needless to say, Hugo's fashion tastes bear a runway fashion kitsch.

[Absolon-7]

Mizuma Ishiwara, the Lunarian Illusionist!

Viviana Couture July 29th
Viviana's jovial smile faded away to an awkward frown as she noticed that Mizu appeared to be uncomfortable at the eagerness she had showed in her Lunar origins. She held her arms behind her back as the new girl awkwardly explained how its like anywhere else. Right, why wouldn't it be after all people are gonna be people wherever they are. Doesn't matter if its the Moon or San Diego. At least she appeared to have liked comparing San Diego to the Wild West and that wasn't too far from the truth from how crazy the town's been all summer from what she knew.

"No problemo gal," confirmed Viviana as she clasped the back of her own neck with one hand, "If you want a rundown I can give ya a lil ol abridg-"

Viviana stopped midsentence as Mizu determined look was replaced by one of fright and a quiet warning. Viviana's eyes widened as she could feel the ever so slight tough of point legs on her forehead. Quite literally a wave of shivers traveled down her spine as a very blurry black thing popped in at the edge of her vision.

"Eeeep!," yelped Viviana. She swiftly morphed her hand to a large flyswatter and slapped it against her forehead hear. Her head reverberated in waves from the impact before reforming to its original shape. Viviana glared at the flyswatter but there was no pesky critter there!

'The heck?," queried Viviana as she reshaped the flyswatter into her hand, "Did it jump off? That darn Casimir must've done this with his swarm!" Viviana pouted thinking that her boyfriend must be playing a trick on her with his pet bugs, "He's gonna get a prank of a lifetime after this."

[Turmenista]

DISCLAIMER: For those unaware, this post is a continuation of this post.



Breakout Three
Maxwell Morningstar Maximum-Security Correctional Facility
__________________________________

Even after going over it twice with Earl Grey, Brock still wasn't very convinced that Aer knew the exact steps to their plan. If Aer truly was some sort of all-powerful, all-knowing eldritch amalgamation of Chaos Energy as he said he was, Brock would've thought he'd be more.. well.. competent. Still, stories from the other prisoners and Aer himself had revealed that the guy most knew as "Adam," the name referring to Aer's human form, was actually a very-formidable fighter that even the guards wouldn't cross with. Maybe he was competent.

Then again, it didn't hurt to ask. "Alright, ghost nigga, if you really know what he said, then repeat what he said to me." Brock flashed a small grin for only a split moment as he and Aer swiftly entered the communal shower, with Aer putting much more effort into holding in the quite obvious bulge from the mustard bottle in his crotch (which garnered a few looks from a select few guards and prisoners) than he was listening to Brock. Once they reached the area in question—a stall in the showers situated beneath an air vent—Aer dropped the bottle of mustard down onto the ground, nodding. "Get in, kill them. Get powers. Escape. Tea. I am not stupid, Brock Spencer. I know the plan."

Brock raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Uh, aight, I guess. Let's get this mustard on these shitty-ass collars, then we'll be on this shit."

Sure enough, once they both applied a sufficient amount of mustard all around their necks and the collars, Aer and Brock both smelled what appeared to be something cooking as the lights on their collars glitched for a moment. Cramming themselves inside of the stall, they both awkwardly looked around, trying to figure out what they should do to get up onto that vent. "You got the knife?"

Aer took it up, clenching it in his teeth. "Mhhm."

"Alright, ghost boy, I guess you just get up on my hands or some shit?" Brock raised an eyebrow as he and Aer both messily climbed atop the stool, with Brock making an awkward squatting pose as Aer looked down at him, tilting his head to the side like a parrot judging its owner. "Man, tha fuck are you lookin' at me like that for, ghost boy? Get up on my hands, and get into that damn vent, dawg!"

"Hrw?" Aer inquired, still clenching the plastic knife in his teeth.

"You just—mother of Jesus." Brock rubbed his temples, trying to hold in his anger. He thrust his arms back up over his shoulders. "Okay. Bro. It's simple. Get up. On my god damn hands." While kneeling, he thrust his hands up above his shoulders, as if to demonstrate. "Then, I boost you up, you open up that vent, pull me in, and we get in. Simple as that."

"But what if someone were to see us?" Aer asked, to which Brock responded with a swear as he watched the plastic knife fall from Aer's mouth and towards the toilet bowl. In the nick of time, Brock thrust his hand out and grabbed the knife, but, in doing so, he lost his footing and slid forward into Aer, causing both of them to fall down onto the seat on top of one another.

It was at this point that a guard promptly opened the stall, which they both forgot was unlocked...

He was somewhat lanky—nothing the both of them couldn't take—topped with a pencil mustache on his face. He looked down at the both of them contently as he kept his hands to his side, dangerously close to the stun baton on his belt... but made no move for it. Instead, he made a move subtly towards his belt with his hands, grinning toothily. "Well, ain't you two a buncha hunks, huh? Well, what're you guys doin' here, all alone from the others? I won't tell the others—actually, got room for one more?"

Aer's eye twitched as he looked to Brock, who slowly shook his head, mouthing the words "Hell no." In an instant, they both grabbed the guard and threw him towards the toilet, stepping back as the side of his head hit the seat roughly. The guard began trying to get back up onto his hands, but another chop from Aer to the base of his neck humanely put him to sleep. After Aer grabbed his stun baton, they awkwardly shuffled the man up onto the seat as Brock got back up onto his squatting position, holding his hands above his shoulders. "Alright, Aer. You're up."

Stepping up onto his accomplice's hands, Aer was boosted up to the vent, unscrewing the bolts with surprising ease using the plastic knife. As they fell down into his hand, he caught each bolt, until the air vent came off the panel and dropped down, which Brock promptly caught before it hit the ground. "Good work. Now, let's get in that."

Aer clambered his way into the dark, cramped space that, sure enough, was large enough to hit the both of them. He was just about to wander off when he remembered that Brock was still down there. He quickly extended his arms out and grabbed hold of Brock's, pulling him up into the vent as the former football star placed the vent back into its original position. "Aight. Tactical as fuck. Now, screws.."

Aer nodded, dispensing each screw from his hand as he and Brock screwed the vent filter back into the shaft. To anyone on the outside, it seemed plausible enough.. so they moved away from that area of the prison, taking out their map to help navigate their way over to the control room. Just like how Earl Grey had said it before, the place was massive in terms of air vents, and they had to take many winding paths through the cramped corridor to finally reach their destination, in a much quieter section of the rig. This was done after shimmying up a nearly vertical of the vents... placing them right above the control room.

Sure enough, the room was there in all of its glory, manned mostly by guards that were monitoring cameras, computers, or eating donuts. Aer subtly reached for the electric baton that he had confiscated, holding his breath. "There are many," he whispered.

"Oh yeah?" Brock looked to him, frowning in disappointment as he imitated Aer's monotonous voice for a moment. "Oh, 'Uhhh... there's many.' Shut the fuck up, you pussy-ass ghost. I know there's many. Like I said before, the Mad Max ain't shit. These guards are dime a dozen, you hear me? We can take them on. All of 'em."

A sudden CRUNK caught their attention as Brock immediately shut up, looking up towards the roof of the vent. Aer could only murmur, unaware of what was about to happen. "I believe we are going to find out if that is true or false."

Brock only shook his head slowly. "Shit."

The vent gave way from their weight, bending down and dispensing the two onto the floor of the control room. Aer and Brock rolled across the floor, standing up slowly as the guards looked up at them in shock, unsure of what to do. Aer looked around at the guards: it was, at least, a six to two advantage, but he was confident with the odds. Tightening his grip on his own shock baton, he eyed the men like a cowboy in a western movie. "Gentlemen, I think we're in the wrong place."

Brock looked right at his partner, then at the guard reaching for the power suppression collar killswitches at the end of the room. From what he could only deduce, if a switch with their names on it were flipped, the exploding collar would turn everything above their necks into a fine red mist. Obviously, Brock Motherfucking Spencer wasn't gonna have that shit, so he got down into a football ready stance, looking right to Aer. "I'll go for that guy. Go!"

He sprinted, practically throwing away the guards in front of him in a comical manner in his charge as he quickly caught up to the guard manning the collar killswitch console, swinging a powerful punch onto his forearm before he flicked his or Aer's switches. Brock's target's forearm bent sideways in a manner that made him even wince, causing the guard to scream in pain as he flailed his crooked arm around. Brock quickly grabbed onto his other arm, swinging up another fist that bent that arm, before grabbing a hold of the limb, kicking his opponent's leg away, and simply throwing him over his shoulder and onto the table. With two broken arms, he wouldn't be flipping any switches, any time.

Aer, visibly struggling with three guards at once, shouted to Brock suddnely. "Behind you, Brock Spencer!"

Brock whipped his head around and quickly caught the arm of the guard right before the shock baton would've swung down onto his face, using his raw strength to drive him away. One knee to the stomach and a push off later, Brock swung a powerful haymaker onto the side of his face, knocking the man out cold in one well-placed blow. "I'll knock the color right off you, bitchass guards!"

Somehow, Aer had made it out of his predicament, incapacitating one of the guards with a well-placed jab of the stun baton, where he writhed on the floor in pain before Aer knocked him cold with a kick to the chest. The others soon fell off him as he wove past another jab intended for him from one of them, allowing the jab to, instead, stab one of the guard's friends in the chest. In response, Aer simply put an arm around the man responsible for the accidental blue on blue, as if he was sorry for him, driving his own shock stick into his belly. "Watch out for friendly fire."

He set his writhing body down, knocking him out cold with yet another kick to the back of the neck. "Okay, Brock Spencer. We are done."

"Yeh, that was badass." Turning to the console before him, Brock placed his hands over it, watching the map of the facility and all of the many, many collar detonation switches. One that was right next to Earl Grey's name belonged to a "PELEUS," which Aer promptly located on the console, flipping his switch upwards. Instantly, the blip indicating Peleus suddenly blinked, then disappeared—Brock and Aer could only speculate as to what that meant for poor Peleus, who never even saw it coming.

_____________________________________

Outside of the door, Gideon sprinted for the control room, a contingent of guards behind him. A few minutes ago, two of Earl Grey's buddies had broken into the command center of the Mad Max.. somehow, and proceeded to wreak havoc against the occupants. He had orders to capture them ideally, but kill if absolutely needed.

Something fishy was going on—all he needed to do next was find Earl Grey and get an explanation from him as to what was going on. But first..

The team stacked up outside of the armory doors, power-scrambling directed energy rifles (mostly prototypes that Warwolf used) and actual guns at the ready. "Move in, on my command!" He whisper-shouted to his comrades, flicking the safety off his SMG.

_____________________________________

Outside of the door, Aer suddenly heard shuffling, whipping his head over to the door as he grabbed both electric batons, turning them on as he stepped in front of Brock like a protective dog to its owner. In streamed in guards in full tac-gear, all aiming their weapons at the men, the sound of safeties flicking off filling the room. The lead guard, a Warwolf operative as suggested by the patch on his shoulder, was a clean-shaven, mustached man, the rank of Captain and the name "GIDEON" stitched onto the front of his uniform. "Settle down, you two. You're comin' with me to max, whether you like it or not. Or, we'll just stick two bullets in your head and call it a day. Which do you prefer?"

"Man, fuck all you pieces of monkey shit, goddamn Warwolf crooks. Fucking false arresting me—for what?" Brock backed up, holding his hands up, while Aer still held onto the batons, not feeling like letting go. They crackled in his hands as he tightened his grip, his violet eyes meeting with Gideon's. "Well, Captain. I would prefer the alternative option. Meatbag."

"And what might that alternative option be?" Gideon cockily explained as the men readied their weapons, dozens of red dots from the laser sights all converging on Aer. It was at this moment that Brock finally realized what Aer had meant by "alternative option" all along, and that the Warwolf in here were fucked: whipping his head around to the terminal, he saw the switch protected behind a plastic covering: "MASS DISABLE."

Oh, yes please.

Why the Mad Max would even have a button to mass-disable all of the collars was beyond him—maybe Earl Grey had requested it be put in as a last-minute safeguard if he were to be captured—but that in the past. Flipping up the plastic covering, he flicked the switch, watching as Gideon's eyes widened, and all the lasers simultaneously converged on Brock. "Why, you little—"

Click!

Their collars snapped off of their necks, clattering heavily onto the ground. They looked at the disabled devices, then back up at Brock and Aer, the former of whom had just begun cracking his knuckles and tilting his head side to side, as if to pop his neck, while the latter... started changing. It seemed as if the entire room entered a dark red hue, with Aer himself taking on more of a demonic form, while Brock simply saw Aer transition into his next.. state, and simply couldn't grasp the man's true form at first.

The center of the room was now dominated by a floating green and golden thing, its legs almost transparent as it levitated up above the ground. Its white, soulless glowing dots for eyes scanned the men, who began to hesitantly aim their lasers at the large Amalgam in the center of the room. Quickly increasing his size, multiple glassy, almost transparent "arms" appeared from beneath Aer's floating figure, each forming into tiny, five-fingered hands that grabbed onto miscellaneous objects in the room.

"That alternative option is killing. Killing you all, that is."

Aer's dozens of arms extended out, swiftly disarming the men as some of the weapons even began to soften.. and melt, their barrels warping downwards as Aer wrenched the melting guns out of their arms with his many hands, tossing them away. Once disarmed, the men were grabbed by Aer's arms, many of them too beginning to soften and melt as others were simply thrown around like a child having a temper tantrum. Gideon in particular weaved out of the way of one of the tendrils, but was sent back onto the wall as one balled its hand into a fist and punched him, immediately causing his chest rig to melt. Gideon was then suddenly grabbed around the neck by another one of Aer's arms, lifted up two feet off the ground by the Amalgam.

"I will liquefy you, Captain." Aer intensely said, before all of his arms grabbed onto the Captain, swiftly melting him down. His body plopped down from underneath his goopy head, as Aer tossed away the liquefied remains of what was once Gideon.. and his team.

Drawing his arms back in, he turned to Brock, who was giving a demonstration of his Zero-Point Energy Manipulation powers as red energy crackled around him, while he froze a gun in place and snapped it back into his arms, chuckling. He was confused about the red energy, however, given how his former energy color had been green—perhaps this was from his powers strengthening? Nonetheless, Brock was proud that they both had managed to get here, despite their differences, and marveled at how far they had both come.

"Yo, ghost nigga, you know what we're gonna do now?" Brock asked, grinning wildly as he inspected the rifle. It fit well in his hands, even though he only knew how to shoot from video games and occasional outings to the range with his father. Aer, now in his human form, nodded slowly, his violet white eyes meeting with Brock's, whose were a glowing red now.

"Yes, I know what we are going to do now, Brock Spencer," Aer said, turning to the now open door, and sounds of chaos in the background. As they left, Brock casually slapped the alarm button, plunging the entire prison into a deep crimson from the flashing red emergency lights, while Aer himself changed back into his True Form, gliding across the ground.

"And what might that be?" Brock asked.

Aërùszirhfuczixi responded with a noise that amounted to a chuckle. "Simple: We are going to kill them all. We are going to get Earl Grey out of here. Then, we shall have tea."

[Solisian Union]

Yasha

Current Status: DMI AGENT - ALIVE - LOCATION CLASSIFIED

The Filipino soldier turned agent of the United States of America obediently followed after the tall and alluring female director of the Department of Metahuman Investigation. It turns out that this was the headquarters of the agency in San Diego. The Director informed her that there is another one in Los Angeles but that one is under the control of her partner, Director Joseph Savage. She said they were brothers and sisters and that, according to the wishes of their parents and grandparents and of course, Miss Alice Scion, they took over the agency.

And under them, the agency had 15,000 active special agents and 60,000 support professionals plus 1000 active duty SWAT members. The agency worked along with other security, intelligence and counter intelligence agencies of the United States plus the police forces, both federal and local. They had also a very interesting history. One Yasha was sure to study and enjoy.

For now, the Director herself took care of this one. She smiled as she stopped, turned and talked to her recruit

"I'm guessing you know the basics of what it takes to be an agent, right? You've been with DOD, worked with the CIA, are no stranger to your country's version of the FBI and probably served together with the Philippine Army's intelligence boys and girls, yes?"

The Filipino can only nod shyly. Just as one would. Mary laughed and turned away, gesturing to her as she said

"Very well~ Follow me, dear."

And she did. They went down a few hallways, crossed through some offices and rooms. Everywhere they went, people greeted the Director with "Good day, Ma'am." or "Hello, Director." The rest nodded to their Director or smiled. There were others, men and women, who were interested in the new recruit. Along the way, Yasha saw Hadrians and humans that didn't look too human. Some had odd ears, different kinds of skin, etc. But they were all friendly or at least not murderous towards a recruit.

Soon enough, they got to a conference room where Mr. Joseph showed up on the big screen in front of several officers and agents. The Director smiled as she told her brother

"Joseph, I have someone new to our agency. I hope you will give her permission to sit in on this meeting."

"Of course. Who she may be?"

"Miss Yasha Zarate. She's the agent I picked up off the hands of the DOD. I figured that she can use a second chance. You saw what happened with the car job, right?"

Some murmured. This was caught by Yasha, who blushed and hid her lips. The Director nodded to this and told his sister

"Yeah. Go ahead. I trust you with her, Mary."

"Thanks, brother."

The two ladies sat down next to each other as the meeting continued. The Director was listening to an agent who looked like...a furry? The agent was like an Azawakh. Nobody else seemed to mind. Even the others were weird. And the brother was weird. He had a strangely uncomfortable aura coming out from the screen. Well, for Yasha, she seemed to get used to it as much as the rest are.

For the meeting, Yasha frowned at the situation. They were talking about the Pandora's Lock. Director Mary told her about them as they briefed the agents about it as much as they briefed her brother. For now, it seems, the PL were not able to do anything with Warwolves being active in this part of the country.

And Yasha saw the faces changing. She saw how Mary bit her lip and how her brother said it...poisonously. Everyone seemed to tense at the discussion of the Warwolves. Mary told Yasha that the Warwolves, who were being so troublesome that even the PL was keeping to themselves somewhere, maybe an underground facility, were like a paramilitary. An organization that the DMI have been trying to nail but unfortunately could not. They and their handlers were bloody untouchable and the agents couldn't even get in.

Even the frustration was expressed by the Director's brother as they were informed that they couldn't get anything from the FBI or the CIA, for what they're worth. The DOJ said nothing yet and so they were left on their own.

The briefing came to an end in ten minutes. Mary guided Yasha out into another hallway and into her office.

There, she met the Directors secretary, a woman who had no arms but was perfectly fine using her mind to manipulate objects. She smiled at her Director and at the new recruit. She let them in just as the Director told Yasha

"I'm going to give you a job immediately. I'll let you take that as your way into this agency. Don't take it and I'll leave you hanging like a wet shirt on a rainy day. Take it and you'll be my guest. One I won't dare to let go."

Yasha couldn't help but say her own approval. To that, the Director grinned and offered her a cup of coffee. They spoke for a long time. Yasha had to know what the job was.

"So, to summarize, I'm going to be a partner of a police officer here in this city?"

"Yes. Her name is Jill Colson. Speaking of names, you're Yasha, are you not?" A nod. "So what is your nickname?"

She thought it over. She responded

"I'm known as Unli Shooter among my friends back in the country. But it's too long. I don't like it."

"I'll call you Shooter instead. You have a solid rep back there. I hope you can build a better one here."

"I hope so too, Director."

"Just call me Mary when we're alone."

"Right."

"Okay, she's a detective and she just got her partner in a bit of trouble. Sooo while you are at it and while she has nobody, I want you to take his place and make sure we can get our name and your reputation up. We want to let the city know the DMI is here and that we are going to compete with the Warwolves and that we'll do our best to protect our people. And you'd want to let the city know your stuff and make your countrymen proud now, will you?"

"I will."

"Then that's it. I'll give you the official papers and your ID and the rest of the stuff you need. Go down to the armory and see Daniel. He's not like you but he has some nice powers. See for yourself. Anyway, report back here in about two hours. I'll be sending you off then when you do."

[Finland SSR]

Isaac Fernán
Four Roses Bar, Condemned District

Alexis Cain/Vendetta-En Route to Four Roses

The Mad Lass, Sina As'tari!

---

Isaac was quick to barrage Sina with several questions. For some reason, the fact that she was able to plop down such a stack of cash on the table and promptly buy out the entire bar without care was surprising to him, and after the two vigilantes sat down at one of the tables, awaiting their order, he followed it up by requesting the Dra'Quinni to stop calling him or others 'scaleless'. For reasons which were just as baffling to her.

"...I thought people use those paper things to get the stuff they want in this society, why is this something weird to you?" Sina muttered, scratching her head. "And come on, I don't mean that word as an insult to ya! It's just a way to describe your appearance, why'd you be bothered about it? Besides, 'hooman' or whatever ya call yourselves sounds even weirder, to be honest."

Just in time, the bartender finally arrived, clearly struggling with the complex array of bottles and glasses on the plate in his hands, and put down their first "serving" on the table. Already, some rumbling could be heard among the rest of the people attending the bar - how dares this redhead suddenly buy out the whole stock for her and her... friend? What's everyone else gonna do now? Sina's eyes gleamed as she watched what she had just ordered. It resembled the drinks Alexis shared with the rest of the crew after the successful ship raid, and while Sina was suspicious that it might be some sort of poison back then, it didn't turn out to be as bad as she thought... so why not give it a second shot?

"Hope Alexis doesn't get the wrong idea that we'll wait for her before drinking..."

---

God. It really was poison.

When Alexis, Sebastian and Catarina arrived to the mostly empty bar save for one chatty table, Sina was slumped in her seat, a half finished bottle of cognac in her hand, in a some sort of transitional state between awake and unconscious. She must have definitely taken one too many bottles in her system, maybe buying out the whole stock was not a very good idea after all... but there's no point to leave a job, or a drink, half undone! That would just be a waste.

Dammit, she's seeing this drinking quest through the end! With this determination in mind, Sina took an another sip from her bottle before her hand lowered yet again.

Darn it, the hurdles in this quest are tougher than she thought...

The sudden appearance of the last members of the team, however, finally awoke Sina from her trance, and in one sudden motion, the Dra'Quinni in glamour let the table drop from her hands to the ground and stood back up on her feet.

"Lexi!" she exclaimed, yanking Alexis from her seat and planting a drunken kiss on her cheek, before falling straight back to her seat. "We gotta buncha weird water and can't finish it, mind if ya help us out?"

Sina's hand tried to grasp at where she had dropped her cognac bottle, only to find a bunch of glass shards and a wet floor. Oh, man...

The Dra'Quinni let out a yawn and continued:

"Ya scaleless are weird animals, I'll tell ya that. Why do ya have fur on the head but not anywhere else? What's the fuckin' point?"

---

Scott Green-Flying above San Diego

Renata Martinez, the heroic Spectrum!

---

When Renata suggested having the two of them go watch a movie together, she presumed that Scott would pick out something more to her speed. Maybe something acceptable for all ages. Not... a Star Wars movie. And the most recent one, too, the seventh one in the series, which almost certainly builds on the lore of the previous installments... none of which Renata had seen when the two of them landed in the movie theatre. Science fiction just wasn't her forte. Aside from Stanislaw Lem's Magellanic Cloud, her father's favorite novel of all time which she ended up getting her hands on, she didn't even have any prior experience with science fiction at all.

Surprisingly, however, the movie was actually enjoyable once she actually got around to watching it. It was enough of a self-contained story as long as you shut your mind down whenever you get questions on the lore of the story, which is what Renata chose to do, most of the time. The unhealthy urge to ask Scott what this part or that part meant eventually overwhelmed her, especially after the movie came to a close.

So, when her friend went around to ask her on her opinion on the movie, she responded without hesitation:

"You know, it was actually fun. I thought I'd get lost in all of the references and plot points from previous movies, but... you know, all those questions might make it seem like I was, but it was actually self-contained enough that I enjoyed it."

Renata leaned back in her seat, wrapping her arms behind the back of her head. "But if Rey and Finn don't get together in the next movie... I'm gonna riot. They're just... they're just..." The pink-haired girl's words turned into barely coherent squealing, before she finally calmed down and nudged Scott with her elbow, her face contorting to a wicked smile as she muttered a line from the movie:

"Women always find out your secrets, don't you agree?"

For example.

All that happened on Aeon.

Which he's still trying to hide from everyone else but her.

Are there any other secrets she needs to know about? Who knows, maybe he'll get the hint.

---

Viviana Couture July 29

Mizuma Ishiwara, the Lunarian Illusionist!

---

Vivi's reaction to the illusion was imply perfect. She screamed in fright at the ugly spider crawling on her forehead and instantly tried swatting it, only hitting her head in the process and promptly getting mad at someone. Mizu's snickering promptly broke into a full on laugh, and the only thing which prevented her from falling on her back and rolling across the floor from the joy was a rather healthy sense of self control. And a desire to not be found out so quickly.

"Don't... don't worry..." Mizu muttered through her laughs, cleaning away a tear, as Vivi continued to panic, and turned off the illusion. "I think it must have jumped off somewhere... not that I can find it..."

What Vivi said later, however, suddenly presented a very interesting opportunity. The girl shifted the blame on a person called 'Casimir', who Mizu could only presume was someone from Poland, and swore to prank him right back. The purple-haired girl gasped in joy and exclaimed:

"You're going to prank Casimir? Oh, oh, can I help you out? We'll make it a prank of a thousand lifetimes for this!"

[New Neros]

The Battle of San Francisco
Aftermath

The sun was setting on an ungrateful city that had been brought to it's knees, the agents of Orion escaping with their signature teleportation exit, leaving behind a badly beaten team of professional heroes and an ungodly amount of destruction. News stations across the country played videos and snippets of the battle from start to finish, testimony was taken from local heroes on their opinion of the events, but the rabid thoughts held by the citizens of San Francisco were not revealed until several days after the incident had passed. "What good did they do?!" Screamed a former business owner through a megaphone, "The Suns fucked up just as much of the city trying to beat the bad guys! What the fuck!" He yelled to a cheering crowd who had gathered in front of the city council building, many waving posters and banners decrying the heroes inability to save the day, completely ignoring their valiant attempts at stopping the villains.

"They escalated it! Do you think Gaul could do this much damage on his own? Hell no! The Rising Suns went all in against him and he called in the big guns, and the Suns got their asses beat because of it! We need protection, we need heroes who can respond to the threats appropriately, and we need a chance to rebuild!" The man received many cheers again, but the sudden darkening of the clear blue skies and the distant humming of other-worldly engines caused a grave panic within the crowd. Over the city, a fleet of floating ships began to appear, their rotund bellies opening up and unleashing a metallic swarm at several points throughout the destroyed cityscape, some human-sized pods ejecting from the metal behemoths and landing carefully around the town. Within the metal coffins were robots, who quickly went to work guiding and directing the insect-like drones that buzzed around the shattered roads, burnt buildings, and collapsed concrete structures.

Within the halls of the City Council, a lone man stood lazily to the side of the podium, glancing around the room at the councilors with indifference, and a hint of anti-social desire to leave. "Now that we have approved your bid for the rebuilding effort, Mr. Bismarck, do you have a time table of when you would begin the process? We understand that this project will take many years to accomplish."

"Now," Walt said suddenly, waving his hand in a circle and ordering one of his robotic assistants forward, projecting a live-feed of the city, showing what appeared to be a robotic invasion of the entire town. Several councilors gasped and muttered to the person seated next to them, but Walt Bismarck put their fears to rest quickly, "It's not so much that I hope for such horrific atrocities to occur, but I plan for them regardless. I have developed a plan to rebuild several of our major cities in the event that they come under what I like to call, superhuman acts of god. I have taken into account several proposals for city-planning and you will be left with a much, much better city in the long run. It should take no less than two weeks to become fully operational again."

"If you need a reference, the rebuilding effort in downtown San Diego took about five days following the clash of villains with the Los Angeles Stars. I will be overseeing the entire project, but there are other matters I must attend to, you all can reach me at my provided contact information. Have a good day." With that, Walt Bismarck straightened himself up and stood tall, the lanky engineer walking nonchalantly to the large doors, his robotic assistant hurrying forward to open it for him, and close it behind him as he never once missed a step. The mind of Walt Bismarck worked tirelessly, never once stopping, always several moves ahead and several designs in on any given piece of technology. Upon reaching his car, a beat-up Toyota Corolla, the robot opened the door and Walt sunk into the vehicle, cranking the engine a few times before it finally started, the mad scientist driving quickly away from the government building.

---

Walt Bismarck
Destroy and Rebuild, Part One

Driving onto the street, Walt's entire dashboard faded from view and was replaced with a set of metallic buttons and cables, his robot assistant seated next to him leaning forward to grab one of the cables and plug itself in, reaching over for another cable and guiding towards Walt's head. The man's face detached from his skull, revealing an android facial structure beneath, and plugging in directly to the car, which disappeared from sight and teleported back to Walt Bismarck's home base somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. "An excellent ruse," Walt Bismarck stated, the 'real' one, walking along the car on one of his teleportation pads, placing a hand on it. "We are very far along on the android mission, but we still need something with the cybernetics and nanite divisions." He stated to himself, pulling his hand away from the vehicle and pondering his mind for a moment.

"New test subjects are always welcome, but I've had my eye on one for some time." Walt seemed to have a habit of talking to himself, which is perhaps the reason he excludes himself to some hermitage in the Rocky Mountains and sends Waltbots to do his bidding elsewhere. "What I've noticed is that my test subjects are often gained after some accident or gone-wrong experiment, which means I am often too little, too late for some of the major enhancements I intend to try out. AWOL, are you listening?" He suddenly asked, his cyborg assassin phasing into view without warning.

"Of course, you're all I can hear in my head." The villain said with venom, "You want to put a hit out on someone and come rescue them so you can shoot them up with your nanites, what a gentleman." AWOL said with a sigh, "Who do you plan on having me maim?"

"You are too thorough in your endeavors, my friend, but it is someone you've met."

"Oh? Now you have my attention. Do tell, Walt."

"You and Nile had an assignment together a little while back, and you had ran into a person who caught my eye quickly. You see, the nanites I've designed are not very suitable for those with superpowers, so, I'm in need of a regular person in which in test them on."

"Man, those are sure low in number. How will you ever find one?" AWOL said sarcastically. "There's thousands of crippled people in San Francisco, good job on that, by the way. You could have called those sick fucks in at any moment and they just ran wild, they always get carried away like that."

"Now, now," Walt corrected, holding up a hand, "I am prepared to deal with the fallout from San Francisco, but the point is, the person in question needs to be of high physical capability and in possession of incredible willpower and determination. The mind is quite powerful and the nanites will need to be imprinted with such strong mental capability to hold to the host. There are two main candidates I have chosen," Walt said, finally having made it to one of his large screens. Flicking his wrist, two photos were displayed on the screen. "Alexis Cain and Austin Flanagan, either of these people will be a perfect experiment."

"I have no idea who either of those people are." AWOL admitted, looking at the screen with his one biological eye, and zooming in with his cybernetic one. Walt sighed, and gave their codenames instead.

"Vendetta and Red. From the Outriders, and from the Young Bloods. Have you not read through your forward operation manual in regards to San Diego?"

"That thing is excessively long, so no." AWOL replied, "But I know who both of them are now. Heh, Nile crushes on the girl really hard, so I'd be careful with that one."

"Believe me, Nile has given us enough information on Vendetta to make our move on her. I currently have a plan in motion, and it will soon come to fruition. You'll need to be on your guard, though, as Vendetta can be a wildcard, along with her team, and whatever effect this will have on Nile if he finds out what had transpired here. I trust you will protect me, as always, right, AWOL?"

"Of course." The cyborg said plainly, "I'm happy to watch from the sidelines for once. Keep me posted." He said, evaporating away from Walt's side and leaving the mad scientist to obsess over his newest plan.

[Aidannadia]

El Hechicero

Tadeo kept rather quiet during the press conference, luckily not actually asked a question, perhaps partially due to his relative unknown status to the public. Regardless of his usual flamboyant personality, he actually felt a little uncomfortable on the stage with everyone, in front of all the cameras and with all the voices going back and forth. He'd only really been photographed one time for the newspaper.

He continued feeling rather anxious during the planning meeting. That day all those years ago, I ran. What if- He caught himself, shaking his head quietly, admittedly only half listening to the plans. No. I won't run this time. Too much is at stake. He clenched his fist, thinking about his talk with Jane from the other day, how passionately she spoke to him.

Tad actually caught up her as she was walking towards the door. "So I guess this is it..." He said, rubbing the back of his head, "When you spoke about making Warwolf pay, I didn't think it would be so soon." He laughed a little uncomfortably.

"But that is okay, I think. Maybe it is okay to get a little angry and... how do you all say it.... 'let loose for once," He smiled genuinely at his friend.

"I would wish you luck and ask you to stay safe, but I think we have plenty of us looking out for each other."

[North America Inc]

-Jason-

Shihong Smith
Arms crossed and leaning against the wall, Shi listened to the de facto team leaders discuss what they should do and how to do it. She could hear everything perfectly fine from where she was standing; another advantage of the tech lodged inside of her. Roy, Alexis, and Wendy were all going back and forth about what the teams should do and who should go where; after the ultimatum they made on air, they would have to follow it up. Or else WarWolf would call their bluff. While she has not had any direct contact with her handlers since her arrival, she could only imagine that they were jumping with glee right now. Anything that can hurt Lycan and raise her publicity was a success, at least in their eyes. Personally...she had her doubts. Rolling her head over towards the window, she could see the all of Downtown from there; minus a few trees and shrubs in the way. Personally, she thought it was reckless to make the outcry too apparent, the subtext made it clear that they were going to attack; while she had recommended a public outpouring, she thought Roy was too aggressive. She snickered; her, cautioning not to be aggressive. But it really didn't matter now. the decision had been finalized.

From across the room Tadeo and Jane were discussing something; they were too far and she could only hear vague murmurs. Wow, already been here a week and I don't even know those two really. This team is much larger than I ever thought it would be...

Turning her head as she heard somebody approach her side, she instantly recognized Jason. She had no real issues with him, he might overcompensate, but given the industrythat wasn't that uncommon; they hadn't had much interaction since their little sparring session, but she can tell that he had some chip on his shoulder against her. She just didn't know why; maybe because she beat him? At least it was better than gawking at her. The hoodie wearing hero reached her and asked, "Hey Shi. Looks like we're on Infiltration together. Everyone else seems rather wound up... Which I get. Can't say I'm psyched about breaking into a Warwolf compound that's got two freaking Juggernauts. I've fought one of those damn things before. They're tough. On top of that, I've got no freakin' idea how the power suppressors are gonna affect me and Sludge. What's your take?"

Surprised to see him actually make conversation with her, she stayed silent for a few seconds and collected her thoughts. Not staring directly at him but instead at Roy and company, she replied, "It's not ideal, but we will have to make do. I suggested to Roy the idea about the uniform concealment and prisoner transfer...luckily Ash was able to volunteer. I really did not to crawl through air ducts with only enough power to light a cigarette...." she paused for a second, wondering if she should continue the conversation further. She looked down at her nails; all of them neatly pedicured, not that she liked to brag.

"What about you? To be honest I was surprised that you joined infiltration. No offense. I assumed that your paras...symbiote would lose powers when entering the radius. You have to admit it's a gamble, a big gamble on a mission like this." Staring directly into his eyes, "If you want, I can offer you a few quick lessons in hand to hand and close quarters right now. I'm not doing anything important; I can't promise it'll make you an expert. However, it might just give you the edge you need if we have to deal with anything unexpected."

Adding a little joke at the end to lighten the mood, "I would say go learn from Bu, but he's probably too busy checking himself out."

[The Rebel Alliances]

Alexis Cain/Vendetta-Four Roses Bar, Conemned District

The three hours or so that we were late seemed to have given the team plenty of time to get started without us. As both Isaac, and especially Sina were already blazingly drunk. As I tried to seat myself though Sina, pulled me up and gave me a wet kiss, the slurring about her wierd water or something like that. Thankfully she was in her human form, it would have been even more bizarre if she were in her actual dragon form. Sitting myself down I answered her plea for help by retrieving the Bacardi and taking a swig. "Of course, I mean what else is a girl supposed to do after a long days work." The rum passing ver my lips was a refreshing taste as I placed the bottle back on the table. Then, with another examination of the state of things in the bar I knew that I had to do something about this. Pulling some dollar bills out of my pocket I stood up and walked over to the jukebox and then played some songs. A varied selection of hard rock to listen to as I looked back at the table for a dance partner. After all, somehow they had emptied the bar of any other candidates so it was only fair for someone on the team to fill in.

Sebestian was the first one I noticed, but he was just settling in and well, something told me that he was not the dancing type. Then there was Edward and well, dance has changed in the last I don't know thousand years? Catarina sat there and well, she was excluded for obvious reasons. She should be in bed resting, guess we wn't be pulling that all nighter tonight. Then we had Nick and well, I hadn't so much as seen him walk much let alone dance. And meeting eyes with him now I knew that there was not a chance in hell of him getting up to move. Brianna seemed far too interested in a drink. Sina was absolutely smashed and...Isaac? Sure, he was drunk but...aw fuck it.

"Yo Isaac, why dont'cha show me what you got?" I invited with an extended hand. Then, deciding it was perhaps better not to leave him room to turn me down I strutted over to him and pulled him up.

"Come on Isaac, why don't we show these losers how it's done?" Moving Isaac to the center of the bar floor my own hips started to move to the beat as I tried to get Isaac to start moving.

---

Nick watching the amusing sight from the sidelines finished his cigarette and then leaned over the table and poured himself a drink. Opting to try Vendetta's bacardi. "Reckon she won't be missing this for a while." He mused as he tried the fearless leader's favorite drink. Then, his eyes rolled over to Brianna as he recalled their last major conversation which they had in private. He thought about trying to bring the topic up again, but this wasn't the setting. Honestly ever since that conversation he wasn't really sure what to say to her. He kinda felt out of his depth a bit. Talking like equals to someone who was slaying enemies when his ancestors were yet to be born. But, to keep things from becoming awkward he simply started off with small talk.

"So, how does this beer here compare to what you are used to?" Nick asked, somewhat curious as to her answer. Would be interesting to know if the art of getting drunk has improved or declined over the centuries.

Scott Green-Downtown, San Diego

Renata seemed to actually enjoy the movie, to be honest I wasn't exactly sure it was a safe bet. Being the seventh in the franchise but I feel like the decision to start off with a fresh cast of characters was good for new audiences. So, all seemed to turn out well. She then mentioned that there could be a chance of a riot if Fin and Rey do not end up together. I gave a chuckle. The sure fire wy to tell a new fan. Shipping. "Yeah, they seemed to have some decent chemistry. Of course Finn seemed more interested than Rey. Who knows what can happen." The movie was very much enjoyable, but at times I felt as if Finn reminded me too much of myself. Running away, afraid of the First Order and what they could do. Of course, he pulls through in the end. In the movies, they always pull through or act when it counts. I wasn't really sure how I felt about Finn's character yet. I guess its because I am still trying to figure out how I feel about myself.

It was then that Renata quoted one of the lines for the movie. It took a minute to see where she was getting at, because the line did not seem to fit a specific situation but it did not take many moments longer for me to realize she was asking me if I had anything I wanted to tell her.

"I guess I can agree with that." I mused as I thought back to just a few hours earlier in the day.

Having already told her about Aeon I wasn't really sure if I wanted or needed to say anything about earlier. I mean after all it seemed so trivial compared to what I had told her before. But my therapist just seemed to op into my mind telling me If you are unsure if you need to talk about it, talk about it. I breathed in a bit then started.

"Actually, just before you caught me outside I met one of your teammates. Really..." My voice trailed off for a moment asI tried to find a appropriate word before I settled on a modest one. "Cute."

"I was apologizing to Casimir about what happened last week, and he was already with these two other new members. Bu who was bald and had looked like a professional wrestler or something. And then there was Red Princess...or Shi." I paused there recalling the memories of me awkwardly introducing myself and jumping off a metaphorical social cliff while doing so.

"She just had this, air of confidence around her ya'know? It was impossible not to notice her. And...I may have made a complete fool of myself on a first impression. I even suggested her taking on a new alias...Firecracker." I slumped my face into my hand. Before eventually prying it away and glancing over to Renata again.

"I know I am not on the team anymore but I would not mind seeing her again. If only to fix that disaster of a first impression." A thought then occured to me as I locked eyes with Renata.

"Hey, I bet you and her are friends right? Maybe if..." No, thats a stupid idea. Asking someone else to fix my mess for me. Exactly something I would think of. "Sorry, I'll...figure something out. Maybe. Who knows, it probably doesn't even matter. Its not like someone like her has time to get to know someone like me. Being a hero and all." It wasn't until after that that I realized that was decscribing Renata exactly, a attractive Young Blood who is spending her free time watching sci fo movies with me.

"I didn't mean to imply anything about us or anything, I really do appreciate everything you have done today Renata." I assured her, finally finished relaying my dirty loundry, hoping she was satisfied with the secrets revealed.

[The Rebel Alliances]

Jill Colson/Peacekeeper-Pricinct 43, Old District San Diego

That empty chair, the seat where Paul normally sits at in his desk across from mine. Normally he is there to chat me or anyone else up really. But his encounter with the Dra'Quinni has left him with some broken bones and fractured ribs. He should make a full recovery, but until that happens I am being sent a new partner. And from what little I have been told so far, she isn't from the department. Well, not San Diego Police Department anyways. No, I am getting some suit from the DMI, or Department of Metahuman Investigations. It was already dark and I am paying my baby sittter overtime in order for me to be here to be lectured and introduced to my new partner. Really, with the kind of day I already had I wished they would wait until tomorrow for introductions but if this gets it out of the way.

"Hey, heard you almost had those vigilantes, you'll get them next time. Send Paul my regards by the way." It was a friendly comment from another officer. I thanked him as I watched my Captain walk over to me, a very tired look on his face. Of course he often looked that way, the middle aged African American man had to deal with some of the worst districts in San Diego, and despite WW supposedly making his job easier they made things harder instead.

"You understand all of this on the record of course, right? And just procedure? I want you to speak freely." The captain clarified with a weary voice.

"Of course Captain."

"OK, let's get this over with. Reports say that you were given a fall back order, why didn't you comply with that?"

"We were already on the scene, and WW was too far out. We were already commited by the time the order came in."

"Alright, what was the current situation inside the restaurant when you arrived?" I answered clearly and precisely despite my own exhaustion.

"It was a battlefield. There were....a dozen or so, dead bodies inside the restaurant? The entrance was run through enntirely and fires were set inside. Just to give a brief description." He flipped through another page in the report.

There were several more questions which I answered in the same matter of fact tone as the Captain gave a sigh and started to walk away. I stood up from my desk and called after him.

"That report, it's for Warwolf isn't it? They request my suspension?" He turned around and made eye contact with slumped shoulders.

"They did." I started to defend my actions but he continued. "They requested we do a full investigation into your actions and remove you from the case as well as suspend you. That interview which lasted all of four minutes? That was my full investigation. You did the right thing Jill. So I am going to hand this report back to Warwolf and notify them that after a very careful consideration they can go fuck themselves. Your new partner for the time being shoud be here within the hour and you are still head of the Outrider case. Good night Jill." I fought to hold back a smile, it's good to know the Captain has your back. With WW in town throwing their weight around we have to do what we can.

So, sitting back down I waited in the ever emptying room as I prepared to meet my new partner and then go home and make spaghetti for Stanley.

[Solisian Union]

Catarina

She was sniffling as she finished being worked on. She nodded to the kind doctor as he washed his hands and instruments. She wanted to say thank you but her lips just won't move. She tried to touch her ear but the doctor told her something she didn't understand with a frown and a shaking head. So Catarina obeyed. But she was frowning too. When things were finally confirmed to be done, she joined Vendetta out.

Along the way, she was really subdued. Somber. She was looking outside the window. She was so quiet. Even with her body still in so much pain as painkillers probably wear off, Catarina made no protest. She may have grunted as she shifted in her seat or moved to make space for the other ORs. But still, she seemed...empty.

And that was because she had to remember. She was forced to remember. Her old life back in Colombia. Back when she faced FARC.

Her wounds were gingerly being treated with the healing salves and the leaves gathered by her friends and nurses. She was constantly weeping, wincing at every careful application of medicine. Even the old painkilling fluids she drank with river water did little. She was exhausted, her hair messy, her face dirty and her lips cracked and bloody. Her fingers were still claws. Bones were sticking out of her like thorns. She whimpered when she heard one of her friends say something about what she experienced from FARC. They commented on the fate of her womb.

She realized then she could never had a child of her own. Not ever.

Catarina bit her lips, blinking as hard as she could to fight the tears threatening to come out.

No, she thought, I don't want to remember that. Please don't let me remember that. I hate that memory.

Then when they arrived at the bar, she was able to get out on her own. There was some help but she was okay. That's when she realized she had some itchy feelings.

Catarina strongly wanted to scratch. But the doctor prevented her many times from doing that. She thought she'd make him mad if she tried again. Instead, all she can do was complain about it in a droning, hostile hum. She wanted to rub it, get rid of the itch. No. She cannot. Not even touch the ear. The ear was healing. Don't lose it like you lost your toes.

Eventually, she made it inside. She saw how drunk the dragon girl and the boy were. She didn't care. She simply looked around, found an unoccupied seat where there wasn't too much light.

She sat. Catarina found it very comfortable. It felt like there were real feathers there. She purred. And she leaned her resting body on the bar, her head close to the wall. She pulled her arms up and used them as a pillow. Then slowly.....slowly....she closed her eyes. She saw Vendetta getting a kiss. She saw the others having fun. But she was jealous of it. She gave a pained, neglected smile. A few tears escaped her eyes and dropped to the bar. Slowly, slowly, as gently as they could, Catarinas eyes shut. And her mind turned to the memory of being in her mother's arms....and slept. Like a baby.

Peacefully as she dreamed, silently as she could. As tranquil as a life of hunting allowed.

[New Neros]

The Labyrinth
Road to War, Part One

The meeting room of Orion was as mystifying as ever, the shadowy figures who sat atop the stone seats making up the villainous organization, all situated at various heights and facing a brightly illuminated center, where Legion took center stage as he initiated the meeting. "We have called an emergency meeting of all of our members, recalling several from missions abroad and out of town in order to make damn sure we are all on the same page. Yes, this stems from the recent actions in San Francisco, and no, no members will be reprimanded for their actions. Rather, we will applaud their displays of strength and resilience in the face of heroic opposition. We are not here to pat ourselves on the back, however, ladies and gentlemen, we are here to discuss our strategy moving forward in an environment where we are actively at war with the heroic community."

Legion let the silence hang in the air briefly, allowing Orion's members to soak in the revelation. "We have eyes and ears in many organizations and positions throughout the communities of heroes, villains, and vigilantes, and there is an active call to arms against Orion that we cannot ignore. As we speak, the Rising Suns and the Los Angeles Stars are in a meeting to determine the feasibility of an Anti-Orion Alliance, and we must be prepared to face a powerful and well-planned threat to our future. Other heroes and vigilantes were brought into the fold, we are unsure of their numbers and of who exactly was called to participate, and we have virtually no idea who has agreed to such a coalition."

"In private between Guardian and I, we have decided that the best course of action is internal strength and increased intelligence to respond to a threat before they arrive. We will not seek outside assistance from other villain groups for fear of them selling us out in exchange for leniency. We have also identified a possible route the Coalition will likely take in the next few days, those being of intelligence gathering of their own and attempts to single out Orion members and take them down one by one. To combat this, we will be using the buddy system, as we do for most missions, but this will be strictly enforced. Each and every single one of you possess valuable knowledge and secrets of the organization that we cannot allow to fall into enemy hands, this is very much life or death, and the heroes will not be above torture to further their ends." Legion spoke clearly and with direction, stressing that the next few days will not be fun, and that war was truly upon them.

"Despite our refusal to reach out for allies, we will be on the look out for potential members to recruit in order to bolster our number and power, but we will keep newcomers at a distance for security reasons. We are looking for potential members that hold a personal connection to you in some way, so that their loyalty is compounded by their connection to you. Moving on, our teams will be a little different: Guardian and I as the men behind the throne, AWOL and Saga as intelligence and counter-intelligence, Mirage and Punk as specialization, Gaul and Cannon as heavy tanks, Espina and Crimson as overwhelming numbers and infiltration, Blaze and Black Luminous as heavy-hitting aces. We will be having a old associate of mine working closely with us in the event that we capture a hero or heroine for interrogation, as well as general telepathic security. He is known as Invader, and you all will be meeting him shortly."

"All current missions are suspended and I will touch base with each team as to their new current objectives momentarily, we have new equipment to issue out and training regimens to go over as Guardian has identified possible ways to expand upon and increase our superpower potential. We will be..." The meeting trailed off with a rather dull and carefully paced tone, but the fact remained that Orion was gearing up for conflict, and the heroes themselves were preparing to make the organized menace pay for their actions and bring each and every member to justice once and for all.

[Confederation of the Equator]

[minecraft villager sound]

[Auropa]

Mike Mathews
Wonder Tower, July 31st

‘Well... That’s new…’ Mike thought to himself as Mars shoved past him. After everything that had happened though, he couldn’t tell if the other boy’s reaction annoyed, worried or impressed him. ‘Maybe a bit of all three’ Mike decided as he realised that he still hadn’t moved since Mars' angry departure, finally lowering his arm from the empty air and giving a quick semi-awkward cough, Mike tried to regain his composure and move on. His optimism for the mission was still going strong but he suddenly wasn’t so sure of his recent choice of words and people skills ‘It’s been a long week…’ he admitted to himself as he watched a few more of people leave the meeting room. Deciding he didn’t have much else to do, Mike followed suite, he was tired and ready for a good night’s rest but first he wanted one last comfort snack.

While the short walk to the kitchen didn’t do much to ease his conscience, the thought of a nice late-night snack motivated his stomach into making its own musical number but despite his eagerness, he paused after reaching the door. Trauma is a strong word, but since his encounter with the team’s recent mutant member, he had become a bit overcautious with entering the room. Slowly, he edged the door open and peaked inside. As far as he could tell, it looked dark and empty. Next, he continued to carefully ease the door ever-so-quietly open until it was just wide enough for him to fit through. Then, as soon as he could, he silently entered in a half crouch as his eyes adapted to the dark and darted between the roof and the many different corners within the room. Then, with unmatched caution, he steadily began to stand up. He looked left, then looked right and began to shuffle towards the light switch as he kept his back to the wall. Finally, and still not daring to pull his eyes away from the seemingly empty room, he reached for the switch, flicked, missed, flicked again and breathed a pent-up sigh of relief as the room lit up and revealed itself to be stab-happy mutant free.

Now at ease, Mike walked over to the fridge and began to look inside until he found his prize. Hidden behind a wall of sandwiches, left overs, brutally mauled cheese and an ever-dwindling supply of bacon, was his secret stash of home-made muffins. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share them, its just he knew for a fact that if Carter, Wyatt or Kiris found them then they’d all disappear in an instant not to mention that if someone like Casimir found them then there was a good chance they’d end up as bug food. Instead he enjoyed to keep a few hidden here for when he wanted that good old chocolate dopamine hit or just a quick snack. Happily reaching in, Mike grabbed two chocolate muffins, re-sealed his stash and moved to the microwave where he placed them both for a few seconds. As the timer ticked down he eyed the spinning treats with anticipation and impatience, until finally, the resounding ding went off and he eagerly snatched at the treats-
“Ow! Shit!”
-only to immediately recoil as he made contact with a molten glob of chocolate. Undeterred, Mike let the treats cool, then reached in once more and extracted his sugary prize before happily taking an over-sized bite from one and turning around, ready to head off to his room. Stopping him however, was a small heart attack as he found the kitchen to no longer be empty as a familiar girl stood before him.
‘Okay Mike’ He thought to himself as he wracked his mind on any sort of details he knew about Viviana ‘Last time you introduced yourself to a girl on the team, she stabbed you. And this one has already seen you being an ass to her friends, so just be cool. Say something friendly and make a proper introduction.’

“Mooffurn?” Mike asked through his bread stuffed mouth as he extended the non-bitten sweet towards the girl.
‘Nailed it.’ he thought to himself as he internally facepalmed and wished to be just about anyone other than himself right now.

[Vanquaria]

---

---

Spot A Mizu
Wonder Tower, San Diego
31 July

---

---

The majority of the Young Bloods were preoccupied with a major mission at the moment. The rescue of one called Kiris from the WarWolfs. Given the enemy's capabilities, it was best if as many YBs were involved with the operation.

Bu had only just arrived a week earlier on Wonder Island. He knew his capabilities better than anyone. So that was why he decided it would be in the interests of everyone if he was sidelined for the mission. After all, despite being an accomplished super fighter, he had only ever fought against the odds alone. Working with others was an experience he had yet to experience, thus he politely abstained.

However, the Young Bloods was still a major hero organization and they had their responsibilities, especially to the city of San Diego. Not exactly the stereotypical naive newbie, Bu was still eager to do work for the Young Bloods.

It wasn't that he wished to prove himself to everyone, no, if anyone wanted to know what his worth all they had to do was look into his file. The fact of the matter was simple. He merely wanted to do some cool hero shit. And do some cool hero shit he would.

The YBs had recently obtained an anonymous tip concerning a possible Black Apostles hideout in the Condemned District of the city. Problem was, given current circumstances, the YBs had yet to investigate. That was until Bu became available. Once he heard of this information from Naja, he enthusiastically volunteered. He was also told that someone else was available to help him; Mizu Ishiwara.

Of course, Bu had only requested her file just to imprint how she looked into his memory so that he could go look for her. He did look at her capabilities though it was more a glance than a thorough read-through. He didn't know what to expect really as he strode into the YB's meeting room where everyone was gathered, dressed in formal clothes as he had been watching James Bond movies recently to help him learn Western culture and thought they looked good on his body too. He began to look around and ask those near him about the girl who came from the Moon.

[Segral]

Carter Graystone
July 29th

He was BOOOOOOORED.

So, he did what he always did whenever he was bored. Play a little game called "How Fast Can You Climb up Wonder Tower?". Basically, the point was to get to the top of Wonder Tower as fast as possible, using only the stairs, walls, and anything else you could climb up on the inside of the building. So far, his record was ten minutes and thirty-seven seconds, but he was hoping to break the ten-minute barrier this time around. He was at the floor of the lobby, so he was in perfect position to sprint the way up, and plus, he hadn't done anything all day, so he was in perfect shape!

On your marks...

Get set...

GO!!!

Using his air powers to form a massive gust on the other side of the nearest door, he flung it swinging open, nearly off of its hinges. Breaking into a brisk run, he quickly did a roll through the door, approaching the nearest staircase up. With a massive leap and a little help from some wind, he practically popped up like the cork on a bottle in Red's underage drinking facility, grabbing the banister with one hand and using it to swing to the next flight, which continued off from a landing halfway up the staircase. Just call him Iowan Tarzan, because he was a fucking MONKEY! With a graceful arc of rainbows, he rolled over the banister, breaking into sprinter's position on the steps and immediately dashing up. It was just like a track meet or practice, trying to catch up with that dick Johnny. Carter could never keep up with him, no matter how hard he ran. It was hard enough outpacing Alexis, and Johnny was like Alexis on steroids. It was weird, you'd think for a lab rat like Alexis, she wouldn't be in the best of shape. Good genes probably. And a hot mother.

Soon, he had reached the nearest second-floor stairwell, having practically memorized a map of YB Tower to find the most efficient route up the Tower. It was all a science, all...the dreaded word...arithmatic. Ten steps this way, swing the corner, f=m/a, keep your velocity intact, electrons in motion, thirteen minus three seconds spent screaming after slamming your crotch into the rail. With practiced fluidity, he leapt up the stairs with bounding ease, taking a shortcut by kicking off the wall and scampering up the rail, dangerously close to slipping. It was like that one girl over Niagara Falls, but with no water or practical sense of danger, and a ticking time bomb waiting for him.

Soon, before he knew it, he was on the fifth floor and had plenty of breath to spare. The adrenaline was suppressing the rapid sensory input from his weird air forcefield, something he had realized early on. As long as his brain was busy (which was almost never, but there were exceptions), his senses almost got muted. He had been making some headway with controlling it, at least enough to turn it off on command, but it needed work. The thought kept him busy, as he reached the fifth floor, and heard...voices. Oh no, humans! An obstacle in the way of his personal best time! Talking about...pranks! And Casimir! AND PRANKING CASIMIR! Oh boy, a conversation for him.

The two speakers were one he knew, and one he didn't The first was Casimir's girlie Viv, someone who had been around for some time, but who Carter had never really spoken with. She was SMOKIN' though, who wouldn't want some of that? The other one was a pretty girl whom he assumed was a new recruit, considering her proximity to Naja's office and the practical immigration exodus heading to the Young Bloods. She had light brown hair that fell quite a ways down, a slight tan, and very bright blue eyes, which kind of looked like some weird hellfire spawn, but who was he to judge?

"Afternoon, ladies." Carter said, panting heavily as exhaustion caught up with him. "What's this I hear about pranking Casimir?"

[Charmera]

El Hechicero

Tadeo kept rather quiet during the press conference, luckily not actually asked a question, perhaps partially due to his relative unknown status to the public. Regardless of his usual flamboyant personality, he actually felt a little uncomfortable on the stage with everyone, in front of all the cameras and with all the voices going back and forth. He'd only really been photographed one time for the newspaper.

He continued feeling rather anxious during the planning meeting. That day all those years ago, I ran. What if- He caught himself, shaking his head quietly, admittedly only half listening to the plans. No. I won't run this time. Too much is at stake. He clenched his fist, thinking about his talk with Jane from the other day, how passionately she spoke to him.

Tad actually caught up her as she was walking towards the door. "So I guess this is it..." He said, rubbing the back of his head, "When you spoke about making Warwolf pay, I didn't think it would be so soon." He laughed a little uncomfortably.

"But that is okay, I think. Maybe it is okay to get a little angry and... how do you all say it.... 'let loose for once," He smiled genuinely at his friend.

"I would wish you luck and ask you to stay safe, but I think we have plenty of us looking out for each other."

“Same to you.” Remarked Jane, as she talked to Tadeo. The whole series of events had been quite overwhelming for the young doctor and she didn’t even know Kiris very well. She could scarcely imagine how this whole debacle must feel for the people who know her well, the founding members of the team especially. “Powers don’t make you invincible Tad, just remember that.”

Jane felt a little bit uncomfortable at Tad saying ‘let loose’, mimicking her words to him earlier. She wondered if Tad had found her out, had somehow discovered her secret. It was the hard part of keeping one, always being paranoid about what people know.

“And yes, you may get justice today. We plan to reveal all the things warwolf has done... or at least as much as we can.”

[Solisian Union]

Yasha

---

ALIVE
DMI AGENT
UNDER PERSONAL COMMAND OF DIRECTOR MARY
CURRENTLY ON THE WAY TO San Diego Police Station

Equipment currently carried:

Benelli M4 Super 90
Baretta M9
Colt M4
SIG-Sauer P230

Equipment in reserve at HQ:

Remington M2010 ESR
Mossberg Model 590
4 M67 Grenades
Kel-Tec KSG
H&K 416

---

The Filipino agent of the Department was shifting in the backseat of the Impala that was bringing her down from the headquarters to the police station where Ms. Jill was. Detective Jill. A cop, huh? It won't be different probably from helping the same cops back in the Philippines. She took the chance to roll down the window and look out into the night of the city, pulling a stick of Malboro for her to enjoy. She brushed over her pockets for a lighter but found nothing. She grunted at this when the lady in front whistled at her and offered to light her cigarette. She had no lighter but instead, she set her own fingers on fire. As the car took them through the streets of the city, she was able to enjoy her smoke.

She breathed out the clouds into the dirty air before she looked back at the bags that contained her new toys. While she was carrying the Baretta M9 semi automatic pistol in her belt holster, the rest of her weapons were in those bags. The awesome Italian shotgun, the M4 Carbine from Colt and strapped to her shoulder was a special gift from the Director: A SIG-Sauer 9230.

She grinned at the babies she was given and that she herself tested in the headquarters range. She tested them all without worry. With her own abilities feeding the babies, she was able to practice as much as she wanted. She made sure not to overdo it as she had little time. At least she was able to get her shooting skills on target. She needed that for this assignment. While, of course, the Americans won't probably shoot to kill, they still need shooters anyway.

And for her, Yasha was happy. This was all she cared about besides the mission. She was able to discuss more properly, more formally with the Director. In addition, she was able to know what rules she had to follow and what to do with Jill. She probably won't know what they'll do after they get the introductions done but whatever.

Once at the police station, she got out, picked up her bags and waved goodbye to the driver and the lady who lit her cigarette. She was able to dump the cigarette in the car's ashtray before turning around and heading into the station. Of course, with the DMI badge and the papers supplied by the Director, she was given a pass with all her toys.

She made it in and looked around, using a picture of Jill that the Director gave to her. She was now scratching her burgundy colored hair with her free hand. She had left her bags with the cops manning the table while she looked around and asked around for Jill.

For this assignment, she wore an uniform befitting an agent and a true operator. She had tactical gloves on, a load bearing vest containing some extra magazines, a fanny pack for carrying accessories for the M4, sleeves rolled up, knee and elbow protection and a pair of night vision goggles around her neck. While this may be overkill, to Yasha it wasn't. With the Director's permission, she was allowed to go like this and to bring the weapons Yasha felt comfortable with and true with.

For if anything went wrong and guns were necessary, Yasha was the one you'd call.

[Finland SSR]

Carter Graystone
July 29th

Mizuma Ishiwara, the Lunarian illusionist!

---

Vivi and Mizu's conversation suddenly had to put on hold right before they could move to ironing out their Casimir prank plan, as the sudden sound of something loudly crashing across the tower from below forced the Lunarian heroine to stop and listen. It sounded like someone running down the stairs, or a wave crashing down. Which was coming closer, too.

"W-what's that?" Mizu muttered. That wasn't her, that wasn't her...

That was a blonde-haired... person, who suddenly appeared from behind the corner running at enormous speed towards them.

Is that... a boy or a girl? As they approached, the answer became obvious - it's just a boy with oddly long hair. Oh, that makes more sense. He stopped right in front of the two girls, clearly panting from exhaustion, and introduced himself as someone interested in the prank on Casimir. How could he tell that they were planning it from so far away? That's a question to be answered at another date - since life has dropped Mizu an another team member to get to know today, she's taking the opportunity.

"Hii!" Mizu exclaimed, waving her hand. "Thaat's right - Casimir pranked Vivi with a nasty spider and we're plotting how to take revenge on him! My name's Mizu, by the way - what's yours?"

---

Scott Green-Downtown, San Diego

Renata Martinez, the heroic Spectrum!

---

Scott did get the hint! Hearing what Renata suggested to him, the raven-haired teenager opted to open up his heart to her, explaining that something had happened to him right before she jumped on him and whisked him away to the movie theatre. More specifically, while apologizing to Casimir, he stumbled upon one of their teammates, and the fact that Scott reluctantly described her as cute immediately helped her crack the code.

His heart fell for someone, didn't it? A wide and hearty smile formed on Renata's face as she intently listened to every single one of Scott's words. Ohhh, who could he have fallen for? Who's even still available? Oh, oh, ohhh! Is it Elle? Scott and Elle together would be so cuute!~ And I could-

Renata's eyes shot open and facial expression instantly froze, staring into Scott out of inertia.

Did he... Did he just...

That... couldn't be it. He said "she", it's just spelled the same... and "red princess" could mean anyone, just a quirky nickname he gave her, right?.. It just means that the person he fell for is a redhead and-

Our team has no redheads. Mierda.

What Scott continued to ramble on about afterwards confirmed Renata's worst suspicions, too. The person he fell for was none other than Shi, the Red Princess - the smile swiftly faded, replaced with a shocked gasp. Her confidence, her imposing stature, all apparently were things which ended up attracting him to her. At least there was one relieving thing about this whole mess - clearly, Shi did not feel the same way to him, seeing as Scott explained that he completely screwed up his first impression and he felt terrible about losing that opportunity.

And while that's really mean, Renata's top priority in her friendship with Scott was swiftly turning into "do not let Scott end up with Shi". Friends don't let friends date complete assholes.

"S-S-S-S-S-S-S..." Renata began as soon as Scott concluded his ramble, stumbling upon the very first letter of what she was about to say. Dammit, spit it out! "S-S-S-Shi?! You're... you're serious?"

How do you... even approach this? She couldn't just come up to Scott and tell him to cut him out or give up on her... this dilemma needed a more diplomatic response. The pink-haired girl let out a long sigh and continued:

"You're absolutely correct. Shi's not just a hero, but a pop star with millions of fans, too, she probably sees you as just one of those millions and nothing else. Especially if your first impression was just as terrible as you say it was - although I wouldn't be surprised if she forgot you exist already..."

Although the "Firecracker" line was gold. Gold in the way that it will be gold for annoying Shi from now on. I'm taking it, if you don't mind.

"And sure, she looks pretty, but I'm sure that appearance is all just botox and silicon, that's how it always is with teen idols."

---

Spot A Mizu
Wonder Tower, San Diego
31 July

Mizuma Ishiwara, the Lunarian Illusionist!

---

Leaning on the side of a wall, Mizu watched the team unfold, eagerly awaiting the announcement of what her own part is. Even though she had only joined yesterday, she was already enthusiastic to lend all she can offer to the team. And it was a mission about rescuing one of their own from the clutches of Warwolf - a name which was unfamiliar to her, but it simply screamed something evil - and that sounds like something which she could definitely help out on! Sneaking around, infiltrating buildings, that's her specialty!

Unfortunately, as the three teams were all announced, Mizu was quick to realize that she had been passed over. Neither infiltration nor distraction, or even extraction, mentioned her existence, much less gave her a role in the following mission - something which confused her to no end, and she was about to raise her voice and ask on what her role is going to be, before her ears suddenly caught someone mentioning her name.

It was a bald teen in a fancy suit, moving from person to person and asking if any of them have met Mizu. The man was unfamiliar to her, much like the majority of the team, but this instantly gave Mizu the hint that she was about to embroil herself in something important.

But that doesn't mean she cannot have a little bit of fun first.

Mizu snapped her fingers, casting an illusion of Bu, replacing Renata's laconic response of not knowing who Mizu is with a slightly longer statement of "I believe I saw her in that corner." and pointing a finger. Then, cast an another illusion, replacing the speech of the first person he talks to in that corner with "I saw her over there" and pointing in the direction. Mizu continued this ping pong for a few more times before she finally figured that the man suffered enough, and exclaimed, waving her hand:

"Heeey! I'm over here!"

Snickering under her breath, the purple-haired girl continued:

"Whatcha need me for?"

[The Rebel Alliances]

Scott Green-Downtown San Diego

It did not take long from Renata's stammering, shocked expression and eventual words of advice to figure out that she and Shi were not friends. But beyond that there was some surprising news in her response. Millions of fans? I had heard that she was in music from somewhere but I never imagined. "Wait a second Renata." I pulled out my phone and did a quick Google search for 'Red Princess'. And what I was hit with was a large baseball bat of reality. Renata...wasn't kidding. I mean, swiping through the news articles and pictures was one hit after another. I started reading the highlights out loud.

"Shihong Smith, born July 21st, 2000. Adopted daughter of a Singaporean Billionare..." My voice trailed off as I started to slowly realize how deep exactly shit creek really was. "Debuted in 2014 with highly successful album in Western Europe, later releases smash hits in Mandaran into the Chinese market, played at Eurovision...she has met Meghan Trainer, Adele, David Bowie, the Queen, David Cameron and..." My mind was officially blown at the next picture, I even placed it in front of Renata's face to illustrate the point.

"Renata, she has met The Rock! Dwayne Johnson! Like, the dude is like the best wrestler ever. And to top that off he is a top movie star last I heard..." I kept reading and with each passing word my own metaphorical grave was being dug.

"She started as a hero by operating in the former Commenwealth and even has her own budding Rogues Gallery and...won five Grammy's earlier this year. And to top all of that off, she is a Young Blood..." I slumped well backwards into my seat. The weight of realization harsher than Jupiter's gravity. With a deep exhale I finally broke the awkward silence.

"I suppose I should be grateful if our meeting does not end up on Instagram, Snapchat and Youtube..." I joked in a defeated fashion. Maybe Renata was right, I mean it was obvious she didn't like her for whatever reason but that aside. She...wasn't really lying either. I mean, why would Shi take a second look at me? At least if I was still Spectrum I would have being a local hero going for me. But now that I have given that up...I'm...just Scott Green. And when was the last time someone who was essentially the Dutchess of the UK and East Asia got together with a no name?

Renata's right...I am so far out of my league here...

Maybe it is better to just keep my feet on the ground and my expectations realistic. Finally finding the strength to pry myself from the seat I looked back at Renata. "So...you ready to get out of here? You don't have to fly me home. I can walk from here." I wasn't in much of a mood for flying right now and maybe Renata and I could exchange a few words on the way out of the building. After all, I would hate to leave things on such a downer note, just because I realized the full depth of the hole I dug for myself.

[The Republic of Atria]

Shi

Shi seemed a bit more approachable than usual, though she still bore that aura of smug superiority, but at least she wasn't being insufferable when she spoke. Mentioning she was the one who came up with the prisoner transport idea, or at least suggesting it at some point. Jason shrugged when she brought up that it was odd for him to volunteer for Infiltration. "I'm pretty good about BSing my way through things." He snickered. "Anyways, as for as power suppressors go... No clue how that's actually going to affect us, but hey, worse case scenario, we're all gonna be without powers for a little bit. Probably. Again, not sure how everything works." He admitted with a shrug and glanced over at the team who was probably discussing the plan among themselves as well.

"Part of the reason we got in on Infil was because in the event we need to move fast and someone's stuck behind, I can probably snag them at a good range and keep moving. We're pretty mobile, but you already knew that. Leave no one behind, right? Better plan for as many scenarios as possible so we don't get caught completely with out pants down. By the way." He started to change the subject. "Wanted to be clear. No hard feelings about the sparring match from other day." He paused for a moment. "From me at least. Sludge still... Eh..." He waved his hand side to side. "Has to learn to forgive and forget an all that jazz." He could feel his partner writhing a bit, it felt strange, like something was moving all around his back and neck. She even went as far to offer him some basic fighting tips. Seeing as he had no formal training, and relied on Sludge to help him out it was probably a good idea.

"You know what, I'll take that offer. Ain't got much muscle to capitalize on. Might as well get a few tips from someone who knows better'n me." He admitted. "Just uh, try to be relatively gentle. Bruises and stuff will heal pretty quick, but I'd rather not get some more burns and have to deal with him being even more sour." He asked. It was difficult as is to keep Sludge under wraps at times. Best try to avoid anything that would send him into a rage.

[United Kingdom of Poland]

Watching as Mars blew up on Mike as the later tried to apologize for his behavior the day of Kiris’s arrest, Wendy shook her head. That was exactly what she had been afraid of when she’d discussed her concerns with Roy. Watching as her boyfriend chased after Mars, she went looking for the other hot heads on her team to make sure everyone was on the same page.

Wendy found Casimir in the hanger, working on his motorcycle. Taking a deep breath and shaking the last her nerves out, she walked over to him. “Are we good to go for tonight?" She asked.

[Segral]

Sir Edward Whilton of York
Getting Down with The Villagers

Roughly half an hour after Sina had arrived at the Four Roses Bar, the premiere gentleman's club for decrepit, shady men, Edward pulled up on his skeletal steed, cutting through an alleyway to tie Harold down to rest, as well as to avoid any suspicion based on a man riding a horse, which had apparently grown uncommon in recent peasant times. His armor was off, both because it had become hot and cumbersome, and because it would arise suspicion. Not to mention, it was badly frayed and bent in some sections, and the black and orange paint was splattered with gore, as were his weapons. Luckily, Harold's armor was untouched, and it helped him blend into the night sky, evading suspicion from the occasional alcohol-slumbering alehouse patron.

It had been difficult reaching the building. His leg had been screaming in pain, the narrow wound scraping deep across his thigh and the skin of his knee, luckily not damaging the insides. It seemed to light on fire with agony with every step, every subtle pressure. Some blood from his ear had dripped across his left eyelid, making it difficult to see. He had practically dragged himself to Harold, the sirens of the Royal San Diego Knights (for some reason, the peasants called them "police"), alerting him as he stayed low, limping across the room and using the table edges to drag himself forward. He had almost been spotted by the strange mechanical torches that the men had held aloft, but somehow, he was able to limp forward, all the way across the street. A few shouts of "HAAAROLD!", and he was able to summon the skeletal steed to his side, climb with great difficulty into the saddle, and ride away. However, he hadn't left the site untouched. He had gathered two great, luxurious treasures from the site. His helmet, which he had removed to free his head and win the glorious battle, the Crusade he had undertaken. And a "handgun", a device that appeared to be a smaller, faster crossbow, encased in solid metal. Perhaps he could learn to use it, maybe even atop Harold. At the very least, if the cannibal broke into his quarters, he would have a method of protection.

From there, he had accessed something called a "first-aid kit", which he had purchased in case of a peril to his life. And this was certainly a peril to his life. Which was only intensified by the painful process. According to the holy scripture enclosed,
he first had to treat his wound by washing it with a cloth and several strange medical brews, before wrapping it with a bandage to place pressure and prevent bleeding. What the scripture did not mention is the ungodly pain! It was almost as bad as being wounded! The sting as he attempted to clean and rub his wound, the agony as he wrapped. Sure, the bleeding stopped, but the pain The suffering! A thousand demons had wounded him!

His final stop was the pharmacy, a place where one could purchase "painkillers", a feat of medicine that would reduce his pain. He bought many bottles of strange medicines such as "Advil" and "Tylenol", and downed several cups outside. It made him feel somewhat dizzy and unadjusted, but the pain subsided slightly. From there, it was the Four Roses Bar.

---

Brother Issac and Sister Sina had arrived and were huddled at the bar of ale, but Edward felt no inclination to join them. For look at the arrangement! A royal Round Table for the ages! All throughout, there were men eating, drinking, talking with utmost chivalry, men and women dancing together in harmony, the sounds of hip-hop blaring through the air. Issac had shown Edward some of his "hip-hop" collection, and it proved to be quite...groovy. It was like Christian hymnals, but faster, with stronger sounds. There were many similarities, especially in the singing. Maybe he would dance with them.

Leaping into an open space on the dancefloor, he began to "bust out" his best "moves", shuffling and wriggling and waving his arms to the beat as humans did. It seemed to work, as many young gentlemen nearby began to whoop and clap, pointing at Edward as he "grooved" to the beat. He was getting down! Many began to dance alongside him, the group forming an active circle as they kicked, stomped and clapped along. A female dancer came near the group, making a direct target for Edward as she slinked around his body like a ludicrous harlot. What madness! This woman must still be a virgin! What disgusting pile of filth, leaving your body and flesh open like an eyesore, acting in such a seductive, whoreish manner! His face growing red with anger, he yelled aloud a few words that were bound to clear this matter:

"CEASE, YOU HARLOT!"

The group burst out into laughter, including, for some reason the dancer as well, as she smiled and moved onto another man. He still did not approve, but at least the sins of flesh were not pushed upon him. He must enjoy this wondrous starry night! Soon, he was dancing again, his body moving to the pounding rhythms, sweat pouring down his face, and...Royal Guards in the corner of his eye.

---

Three Hours Later...

He wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, he was happy to have a free supply of any ale he could wish for, and the privacy of his glorious teammates and this wonderful establishment. However, he missed his fun dancing with those gentlemen, and his teammates did not seem to be in a good mood, as Sister Catarina was asleep, Sister Sina was thoroughly drunk, Brother Nick and Sister Brianna were performing terrible acts of sin, Brother Sebastian was as quiet as a stone, and Sister Alexis and Brother Issac were horrifically dancing along to a terrible piece of music, with Brother Issac seeming terribly drunk. But the song! He had heard this type of "music" before, and he had only one thing to conclude; it was terrible. In fact, he believed it was Satanist. The loudness, the harshness, the repeated mantras, the aggressive nature, it was clearly Satanist. He must purge ears at once!

Muttering to himself while slightly intoxicated on a mix of painkiller and alcohol, he limped over to the "jukebox", a strange machine that played music. However, much like a minstrel, they required payment. Sliding a coin into the slot, he was soon given full control over the jukebox, from "Alestorm" to "ZZ Top", from "Future" to "Miles Davis", from "Death Grips" to "MF Doom". However, he knew what he was looking for. And soon, he had found it. "All Night" by Chance the Rapper.

"BROTHER AND SISTER, PRESERVE YOUR VIRGINITIES AND SEPERATE!" Edward boomed towards Sister Alexis and Brother Issac as the music abruptly changed from Satanist hymns to the sweet, pixellated sound of synthesizers. "I WILL SHOW YOU HOW TO TRULY DANCE, YOU STONE-FOOTED IMBECILES!"

And with that, the beat dropped.

"ALL NIGHT, I'VE BEEN DRINKING ALL NIGHT, I'VE BEEN DRINKING ALL NIGHT, AY-AY HEY!" Edward sang along, very off-key and somewhat off-tempo, while busting out several hula-style dance moves of him swaying to the beat, snapping his fingers, and locking himself into a very fun-looking jig. The house beat pounded throughout the building, accentuated by Edward's stomps. And here came the rap verse.

"Everybody outside, everybody outside, when I pull up outside, all night, no. Everybody high five, everybody wanna smile, everybody wanna lie, that's nice, no," he started, going off on poorly constructed rhyme schemes as he invited everyone to join him on the dancefloor.

[New Neros]

Star Tower, Los Angeles
The Anti-Orion Alliance

A long, marble table made sure each team stayed to their respective side, the well-polished and ever-fearsome Los Angeles Stars staring down at their counterparts from San Francisco, the Rising Suns, who have clearly seen some better days. Though their recovery was going well, many of the members were still bandaged up and licking their wounds from the encounter with Orion just days ago. With the fiercely competitive North American Super League Tournament just around the corner as well, it was far from normal for two of the biggest rivals to have a meeting like this, but Goliath went straight to the point once everyone was situated.

"It's about Orion."

A smile crept onto Captain Quakes' face, who re-positioned himself in his chair and leaned back a bit, recalling in vivid detail the thrashing Gaul had given to Goliath over and over again, far exceeding the one-time-lucky-shot the villain had gotten against Quake himself. "Tell us all about it." Quake replied, receiving a narrow-eyed look from Goliath, who sported an impressive series of medical wraps around his arms and back, as well as a back brace to align his spine. "I mean, we've seen enough on the news and on the internet, but the opportunity to ask someone face to face is just so much more, how do you say, riveting? Heh." He finished with a chuckle, watching intently as Goliath closed his fists and tensed his jaw.

"You fought him too." Goliath said softly, "And everyone knows he would have had you like he had me." He said softer, leaning in as the words erased the smug look from Quake The two leaders, powerful alpha males and highly ranked by the NASL, locked eyes and seemed ready to come to blows at the drop of a dime. The air was tense, too much for any signs of friendship or cooperation to form, but cooler heads prevailed, and the teams pushed forward to create a unified response to the Orion upstarts.

"Gentlemen." Snapped Star Queen, "This isn't the time or place for rivalry." She turned to address Goliath and his team directly, "We have had internal discussions about what to do in regards to this new group of villains from it's earlier inception and our skirmish with them. We've been hands off since San Diego falls under those," She sighed heavily and shook her head, "Young Bloods, and they haven't made waves in Los Angeles or much in San Diego. We were actually more concerned with Warwolf than Orion, but we kept the villains on the backburner knowing what power they could bring to the table."

"I agree," Eden said quickly, "We've been keep track of Gaul and then Orion, but all we really know is that they may be based in San Diego due to reported sightings and activity in the area, but concrete locations are hard to come by. Their teleportation in and out of confrontations is very effective at hiding their trails."

"Perhaps," Armorer interjected, "But it also creates some sort of signature, no? Or perhaps a beacon is needed. They can't all have teleportation powers, someone has to be supplying them, and from what we can see about most technological-based heroes and villains, their technology has a signature or personal flavor. We may have the means to build a tracker or something. Just an idea."

Eden nodded at first, but shook her head to the side eventually. "We had a run-in at one point with the assassin, AWOL, and we believe he was gathering information on us in San Francisco. Before, he wasn't tied to Orion other than brief sightings, but this incident reminded me of those cyborgs. They're probably mimicking his powers somehow, but it begs the question, who is maintaining him and his partner, Saga?"

"Brilliant questions, all around," Quake said sarcastically, "But what exactly are we supposed to do here? Us, in this room, right here, right now? Are we just here to pat the Suns on the back and tell'em that they'll get'em next time, champ, because I'm all for that."

Goliath breathed in and sighed deeply. "We're here to ask for help, jackass." Captain Quake nodded up and down after figuring out the mystery, allowing Goliath to continue. "We've tied them to many other supervillain-related events, a few clashes with Warwolf, the breakout at Blackwater, even an event as far as Alaska. We believe their reach is growing rapidly, it may already be at a national level and approaching international. We know a decent amount about the villains within the group, but there are ranks we don't know about that are occupied by people whose powers we have no idea on, just guesses and assumptions. We lack the proper knowledge to even begin confronting them, and we as a collective believe that you and the Suns could help bring these criminals to justice."

"We?" Quake repeated, "Do you believe that, Goliath?"

"Quake." Star Queen hissed, but was silenced as he put up a hand to her, infuriating the woman, but she still did as instructed.

"Do you believe that we can help you, Goliath?" Quake asked once more, watching the large man squirm internally and battle his pride. Biting down and closing his eyes hard, he took the blow Quake dealt in order for his team to get the help they needed.

"I do believe you can help us, Captain Quake." He said robotically, as if it physically pained him to utter those words, but the pride of Quake was appeased, and because of that, the alliance could go through. "This has no bearing on the NASL and the Tournament, but in regards to Orion, cooperation will be the best route moving forward. An Anti-Orion Alliance or Coalition if you will, and let me be honest, I believe we need more outside help than what our teams can provide."

"What do you mean?" Mudslide asked, Radar offering his own input at this point.

"The Rising Suns were handled by three Orion members, and honestly? It could have been done with just two of them, Gaul in the final confrontation was a non-factor as Goliath had suffered heavy injuries at that point. In your own skirmish with them, you also faced three Orion members, correct? Cannon, Gaul, and Mirage, but the battle was over when Black Luminous entered the conflict. We all know the fearsome, mighty yadda yadda about Black, but it represents a big problem to any operation against them, not to mention Blaze, and they may have other aces we're not aware of." Radar explained, making his case known for the inclusion of more... irregular elements of the superhero community. "I know this is going to sound a bit out there, but I think we need to bring in Tita-"

"No." Quake immediately declared, "We're not going to work with Titan. He's a vigilante, not a hero. He doesn't play by the rules and that's bullshit. He's some war vet who wants to murder every villain walking up and down the street."

"He's fought Gaul and had his team torn apart by him as well. He's thirsty for blood, even went against Cannon and Punk... And was promptly imprisoned in Blackwater, but, we're aware of his escape, and we're also aware that he's building a new team tailor-made to go toe to toe with Orion. He has a plan to attack and we need him to be part of the process. What we lack is intelligence and information, something to act on, otherwise, we're waiting on Orion's move, and when they go on the offensive, things happen fast and cities are destroyed."

"Why not let Titan and his team go after Orion and we watch and wait, intervene and claim victory over both?" Armorer asked, to which, Radar had a response.

"Because they'll fail all the same. Titan started this to get to Gaul over the Solar incident, but expanded to include all of Orion since they were protecting Gaul. We could give Titan and his team the support and intelligence they need to go after the supervillains, but it may include our direct involvement to ensure we come out on top. We'll need a good while to gather information and intelligence, and I imagine any large-scale battle won't occur until after the Tournament has been decided. That way we can all focus on that event, and afterwards, completely confront and eliminate Orion." Quake seemed to think about the consequences of working with such a polarizing heroic figure, but Radar offered another incentive to work with Titan, "Look at it this way, our hands will be clean and Titan's are dirtier than most villains." The answer seemed to satisfy the leader, who nodded approvingly of the plan this time.

"We need to reach out to anyone with a connection to Orion. We have some real names, some fake ones, and their codenames, a little bit of their pasts for people like G,aul, er, Gladiator, Punk, and Mirage. But what we're missing is a leader who's calling the shots for the group. Gaul is too simple-minded to command, and the rest are fairly young. Someone behind the scenes is issuing out orders and we need to get someone inside Orion to figure out everything, from the structure to the ranking, to power, people, everything we can get. We need to have won the battle before it even occurs." Captain Quake said, "We'll stay in touch, and we'll get in touch with Titan." With that, the meeting was briefly concluded, a pact having been formed and Quake reaching over to shake the hand of Goliath, solidifying their alliance entirely.

"Orion will fall." Goliath declared as the Rising Suns shuffled out of the meeting room, leaving the Stars and preparing to leave Los Angeles entirely.