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

[Yoite]

Alain Caine, Warlock
Chicago

The road to Chicago was practically empty, and for good reason. With news of the conflict brewing between the "terrorist organization" known as Vanguard and the mutant-hunting CADMUS, it wasn't a popular destination at the moment. Regardless, Alan had no intentions of letting the fear of CADMUS prevent him from meeting with Vanguard. So he continued barreling down I90 at seventy miles an hour until the checkpoint was only a few minutes away.

Alright, this is it. If I'm really not a mutant, I'll be fine, right? Hidden behind tinted windows, none of the other cars on the road could see the sickly golden eyes and alabaster visage driving the silver Jaguar down the interstate. Focusing on the sea of baleful energy within himself, he pushed it deeper and deeper until it coalesced in the pit of his stomach. Adjusting the rear-view mirror, the man he used to be stared back at him. Breathing a sigh of relief mingled with exertion, he slowed his approach as the checkpoint came within sight.

As the guards encircled his vehicle, weapons at the ready, he slowly lowered his window.

"License and registration, please." He had heard about the attacks on another checkpoint over the radio, and it was clear these guards were on edge, so he avoided any sudden movements as he reached for registration and his excellently forged license.

"Thomas Hill?" The officer queried, looking from the I.D. to Alan and back. "Present your arm for a blood test, now." His voice expressed no suspicion, just a normal stop. Good.

After they drew a sample of his blood, he tugged his sleeve back down and rebuttoned his cuffs. For a few moments he waited nervously, until the machine beeped and the officer nodded at the display.

"Alright, you're free to go. Watch yourself in there, it's getting more dangerous by the day."

"Thank you, Sir," Alan nodded, his rich soothing voice catching the officer slightly by surprise, before pulling forward and passing through the checkpoint. He could feel beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck as he put some distance between himself and the checkpoint.

Eventually, when he felt comfortable he wasn't being pursued, he released his human form and got off the highway. After finding a quiet, unassuming parking space he reached into the console for a couple of books. Flipping through the pages of a journal, he found what he was looking for, then he opened his satchel and removed a paper tag with wire ties on one end.

"Dammit, I hate this one. It's too damn complicated," with a marker he began painstakingly drawing out the eight branches of the Vegvísir, with his own modifications. Then he fastened his smallest opal to the wires, and attached set it dangling from his rear-view mirror. Now, focus, find the man who can help me, find the man who can help me. Setting the idea in his mind, he watched as the paper rune spun around in circles before settling on a direction. Testing it, he flicked the paper a few times, and it resettled into the same place.

The silver car pulled out of the parking space and began driving deeper into Chicago.

[Cerrania]

Somewhere above Pennsylvania
Jason Blackwood a.k.a “Skullduggery” and Lance Turner a.k.a “Corpus”
2043

It wasn’t often that Jason flew on airplanes. His ties to New York City had always kept him fairly grounded in the Big Apple. Travelling wasn’t entirely out of the option - he did have a car that he loved very much. However, he always found himself slightly bored or simply drawn back to the city. For this reason, he was slightly nervous on the flight. Despite the fact that there hadn’t been an airline crash in more than ten years, he still shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Looking over to Corpus, who seemed entirely relaxed, he sighed. Not even 24 hours ago, he hadn’t known of this man’s existence. And now they were altogether too close in the cramped coach of their plane.

“So, what’s your story? You mentioned being ‘Dr. Lance Turner’,” Jason said, adding air quotes around the man’s name, “But you’re oh-so-shrouded in mystery that I barely got your name from you.”

“Some books are more difficult to read than others,” He gave a smile to his new partner. “I was a surgeon in the emergency ward of Sacred Heart, in Detroit. I was a damn good one too, but the patients…” His visage darkened slightly. “... their bodies were so frail. They died with one wrong cut, one wrong move; and they’re gone. I got tired of it. I started to slip, more patients started to die, and my boss started breathing down my neck. Then, CADMUS got ahold of one of my blood tests. I was in the middle of a damn surgery, and they tried to arrest me right then. I hadn’t used my powers before then, but they shot me when I resisted; right through the heart. Instincts kicked in, and before I realized that I was doing it, the skin evaporated right off of the guards, and the patient’s heart dissolved and went into the wound. I took two ribs and made scimitars…” He trailed off and grew quiet.

Jason was silent for a moment, considering what Turner had just said. He idly spit into a cup, which was halfway full already with brown fluid, that smelled slightly of mint. Being on a plane did not excuse him from feeding his addiction. Then, he nodded.

“Wow. That’s fucked up!” He exclaimed, looking at the man, “It would certainly explain your whole doom-and-gloom attitude. Though it doesn’t explain why you’d come seek me out. There are plenty of do-gooder factions that are fighting against CADMUS. Why not link up with them?”

Jason has his own reasons for refusing to align himself with the Vanguard. Chief among them is the fact that they didn’t exactly approve of his tactics, which boiled down to absolute annihilation. However, he had met plenty of mutants who loved the shiny paragon that Vanguard purported themselves to be. Wasn’t for him.

“I sought you out because you can get the job done. You don’t snivel at CADMUS, you stand up and bat them aside. The other ‘do-gooders’, they are worthless. They hide their cowardice behind the facade of morals. They sacrifice getting the job done for mercy. They couldn’t accept me. They couldn’t let me satisfy my hunger. I don’t want CADMUS disbanded; I want it in a body bag.”

He had been growing in fervency with his quiet rant, and he looked down to see some of his knuckles had pushed through his skin. He gave a slight hiss of pain and wrapped up his hand with a bandage he carried in his pocket.

Jason shrugged. That was reason enough for him to work with Turner. If people were going to destroy CADMUS, they couldn’t be afraid to step on a few toes to get there. He swished the brown liquid in his cup briefly before Skullduggery spoke from inside his own mind.

I believe the American saying is ‘Gotta break a few eggs to make an omelette’. Came the Irish voice from Jason’s inner dialogue. Jason smiled at that, but suppressed it rather quickly. Looking back at Turner, he spoke.

“We’re going into this city essentially blind. Do you have any contacts in Chicago that could be of any help? We aren’t exactly the embodiment of stealth.”

He paused for a moment and stared at the floor. “I know a heart specialist at one of the area hospitals, but I’m coming up short otherwise.”

He thought for a moment longer and unwrapped his hand. He winced and concentrated for a moment and his left ring metacarpal broke through the skin, and he pulled it out. He held it in his right hand, and it molded into a scalpel. “We could try a more precise approach. I sure some goons would talk if given the proper motivation.”

Jason chuckled. This guy was a class act for sure. Had anyone seen his stunt, they probably would have had to clean out this entire airplane. Nobody was much interested in the two young men and their idle conversation, however.

“I’m sure they will. I cut a guy’s finger off to obtain the location of this place, after all,” Jason mused, thinking back to several hours ago and his all-too-public engagement with CADMUS, “But I’m talking about people outside of CADMUS. Someone we can trust.”

Jason thought for a moment. He knew of several mutants in Chicago. Most of them were associated with Vanguard, but there were always fringe groups. Then, an idea came to him. Not a very good one, but one that might work out in their favor. He quickly popped open his computer, doing a quick search on the plane’s internet service, before grunting to himself and shutting it. He then exhaled quickly, and spoke,

“And I think I might have just the person.”

Turner arched his eyebrows and turned to Jason, “Who?”

“A one Stephanie Edgemoor. She’s an extremely powerful mutant. Total babe too, if I might add. Skullduggery seems to have known her from years past. She might be willing to help us out.” Jason replied.

Or kill you. She’s a dangerous woman, and that’s what makes her so damned alluring. Skullduggery said.

“I like powerful allies as much as the next psychopath; what can she do?”

Corpus wasn’t the trusting type. He prefered to slay his way to his goals and not worrying about making friends along the way. Working with Jason was outside of his comfort zone, but he wasn’t about to let him know that.

“If she drinks your blood, she can take your shape,” Jason said, with a bit of a coy smile. Kinky. “She’s been doing it for something around 400 years too, so I’d say she’s fairly good at it. And she hates CADMUS as much as the next guy. Rumor has it she recently took over a very powerful security firm, apparently they’re a step up from mall cops.”

“I’m not the trusting type Jason. I trust what you can do, but I like studying my associates. I’ll trust her as an extension of you, but if she tries anything funny…” He snapped the bone in his hand before reannealing the ends and putting it back in his left hand.

Jason shrugged. She was just another mutant, and he was very confident that the two of them would do fine without her, but a bit of additional help could go a long way.

“If she tries anything you can turn her bones into a sculpture and put it in a gallery, for all I care.” He said, before perking up as the soft click of the intercom turning on echoed throughout the cabin.

“Hello passengers. In about twenty minutes we will be landing in Chicago! Please place your seat trays up and prepare for landing.”

It was time to go to work.

[Arkeyana]

THUD


THUD


THUD

"argh, get your hands off m-" the man who spoke was stopped when he saw his assailant. Said attacker was wearing a cloak and looked like the Grim Reaper. "heh, thought you were an Urban legend" said the man, trying to stall. "Ha...Ha" said The Wraith. "now, I'm gonna start amputating your limbs, and you are gonna start telling me what the Mafia's next move will be". A black scythe materialized in his hands as a demented red grin formed. "so, wanna lose an arm or a leg"? he inquired. "OK OK I'LL TELL YOU" shouted the man. "They are planning to cause another riot using the tension from the last one, to keep the authorities busy while they smuggle drugs". "Heh, normally I have to use a little more convincing, but just so you know, if you are lying or alert anyone". The Wraith drew his finger across his neck. He then turned around and created a portal which he passed through.



The Warehouse.

Sammy Clara was messing around with her powers, creating little robots that cuddled and purred like kittens when a portal formed. The Wraith passed through before shifting into Drake Lawrence. "I was wondering if you reaped yourself" she chuckled. "Yeah yeah, without me you couldn't find where crimes are going to happen, speaking of which, I have info you need" Drake said, telling her the Mafia's plans. Her face dropped when he said "I'm going with you". "why?" she asked. "You need to keep the citizens calm, I'll go after the shipment". He replied. after thinking for a while, she agreed.


New York
John looked around his empty apartment before picking up a job catalogue. He browsed through the various jobs humming to himself.

[Arstotzmerika]

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

---

Joseph felt stupid, he was admittedly being the worst low layer for a superhuman. Everybody makes mistakes, I just didn't realize mine until it was really too late. Bloody hell, I must be an idiot for not laying low properly. He woke up in what appeared to be a containment cell made by CADMUS, but he was still in the airport, however no longer in the terminal clearly. The containment cell was guarded by the very same extraction team that got him, but they looked as if they are waiting for something or someone. His vision was a bit fuzzy, but he could at least make out a plane landing, which meant to him that he was outside in some unseen area of the airport, likely underneath the terminal. As his vision cleared, Joseph saw how big the containment cell was. While it wasn't really big, it was small enough for a prisoner to sit down at least. Examining the cell further as his vision cleared more, it appeared to be made out of an unknown material that was blocking his abilities somehow.

He quickly noticed his hat was missing, only to find it laying on the ground. He dusted it off, and put it back on. He knew there was nothing he could do to escape, he tried using his abilities but only his Time Stop worked and nothing else. Knowing this, he simply leaned against the wall, merely waiting for something to happen at all. Joseph wasn't really expecting to be rescued.

[Futrellia]

Richard Block
Owl's Nest
August, 2043

---

Since the initial surgery, Richard was moved to a back room and with the help of Ollie, was turned into a recovery room. In the center, Richard laid on a fluffy queen sized mattress, surrounded by monitors and IV bags. Above the door, a TV was placed and SBL 31 News was on.

With a low groan, Richard began slowly lifting his arm, his eyes opening, the lights blinding him almost immediately. His arm fell back down as he spoke out.

"Ol---Ollie.."

"I'm here, Richard. It's good to have you back." Said Ollie, in his electronic English voice. Richard lifted his head off of his pillow, looking around as his eyes finally adjusted to the lights above him.

"What happened? How long was I out?" He said, his voice getting stronger and able to speak more clearly.

"Three days, 10 hours, and 43 minutes, sir. You sustained life threatening injuries during your raid on Warehouse 16. An unknown assailant targeted you and shot you three times. The first shot hit your chest but the body armor prevented damaged to you. The two shots were targeted at your back, your spine, more specifically. I retrieved you with the IronJet and took you back here. Dr. Williams has told me you are very lucky that your injuries were not more....severe. He made it clear that if the bullets came any closer to your spine, you would have lost the ability to walk." Said Ollie. Richard was thrown for a loop. He remembered a massive force blowing him back, not actually hitting the wall, but a strong pressure.

"You....you said an unknown assailant. I have a clue on who it might've been. I need to get to the terminals." He said, lifting his upper torso from the bed. He felt the soreness and sharp pains from the surgery. It wasn't as bad as it was a few days ago, he was sure of that. Turning to the edge of the bed, he raised his legs from the blankets and lifted himself off of the bed.

"If it wasn't for Williams, I might be in a wheelchair, right now. Where is he, anyway?"

"Seattle Medical Center. He will be there until 6:00am tomorrow morning. Shall I reach out to him, now?" Said Ollie.

"No, no. Let him be. He'll come by when he gets a chance. What about Pryce?"

"Pryce came by a few hours after your surgery had completed. He analyzed the suit and the damages. The next day, he worked on for 16 hours. He added thicker kevlar threading around the back and throughout the entire suit. The rounds used against you were 7.62x51mm rounds, not as large as he could have used, but still enough to pierce the thinner protection of the cape and the armor. The cape has also been upgraded. It will be heavier, but shouldn't interfere with your current performance." Ollie finished just as Richard sat down at the computer screens.

"He's a good man." He said quietly. Using the databases of the FBI, NSA, and various State Police agencies guaranteed through a backdoor on Salus Security equipment only accessible to him, he searched for "Wolfenstein".

"Wolfenstein, sir?" Ollie said in a state of intrigue.

"That Vietnamese bastard. He told me that the Syndicate hired someone named Wolfenstein to cause all of this havok. It explains the Syndicate leaving Washington, allowing the turf war to begin. He knew the Vietnamese would draw me out, he knew I would go for them. He bombed a warehouse just to flush me out and then...I'm in a bed for three days. He intended to kill me, but he didn't. I'm getting something..." It listed various agencies and what the knew about him and it was astonishing how little they had.

The U.S Marshals had their suspicions he is or was a Gambino family member. The FBI listed as a person of interest in several high-profile assassinations, bombings, kidnappings, and other major crimes, a no-brainer considering he set an entire megacity ablaze just to lure him out. He mostly worked in the Western states, not of import.

Across all federal agencies, there was the same sentence.

"There aren't any photos, fingerprints, DNA samples, etc connected to him". This guy was good. Covered his tracks, kept his work in a confined space to not stretch himself out too far and draw worse attention, he wasn't afraid to do whatever it took to get his mark. It impressed Richard, but not enough to discourage him from finding this man. More information was found on Wolfenstein.

A recent report suggested that Wolfenstein was just a scapegoat for law enforcement to blame cold cases on, and that he didn't actually exist. No doubt a venomous way to ensure the public that they would never see this man. Instead of announcing their plans to find him, just label him as a ghost.

- Most, if not all, of the crimes attributed to him are technically impossible to pull off. There wasn't much more on the subject. The man somehow found ways to make the impossible, possible. Richard began to believe he was dealing with a mutant, unless he had technology that just isn't available yet.

- He seems to usually go after other criminals, such as killing money-laundering politicians, bombing suspected drug dens, kidnapping victims from their abductors and returning them to their families, etc.

"Sounds like a James Bond version of me. He doesn't want to be found. I want the city to know I'm here. I want them to know I'm on their side. Hard to do when the Police department pins murders on me." He said, referring to a case last year where a mother and daughter were shot dead. Instead of pursuing the actual killers, they simply blamed the Iron Owl for it.

"Do we have any info on his whereabouts?" Said Richard. He knew they didn't know what he looked like, but suspicious activity would be a start.

"I deployed all of the drones right after your surgery completed. I have been monitoring the city closely and have found no evidence of this Wolfenstein anywhere else. I sent Drones 1-3 back to the location of the shooter before he attacked you. I retrieved the bullet casings and hacked into local security camera footage from the apartment complex. All of the cameras were shut off for monthly maintenance thirty minutes before the attack and five minutes after the attack. There is no footage that shows anyone coming from the roof or leaving the apartments in that timeframe. I will continue the search, but I believe we have missed the timeline. If he did believe he killed you, there would be no further reason for him to remain in Seattle."

"Damn it. What about the Syndicate? If they believe I'm dead, I'm sure they'll be moving back in." Richard said, skimming through news coverages of the Seattle turf war days ago.

"Drone 15 recorded Syndicate cars and trucks pulling up at Greenwood Self Services Storage, retrieving arms, ammunition, and body armor from Storage 21, 28, 36, and 59. Drone 6 recorded audio from the SkyCity Restaurant on the Space Needle, between two unidentified persons, one confirmed as Syndicate. Playing now:"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. But listen to me, alright? We just gave this crazy dude $10 million bucks to take out that Owl bastard. And let me make this very clear to you....the Iron Owl, the sore that's been on all of our asses for the past who knows when, is dead. He's dead, gone, history. This city's ours now, my friend." The recording stopped right after that.

"It'll be a real shocker when I find where they're storing all those weapons from the storage." He said, about to raise up from his chair.

"That's not all I found, sir. While skimming through camera footage from across the city, I found something very interesting. Playing it now."

The footage began to play, immediately showing something that didn't make sense to Richard. It showed a shadowy figure as it pushed a man back against the wall, a scythe seemed to materialize in his hand from thin air.

"Now, I'm gonna start amputating your limbs, and you are gonna start telling me what the Mafia's next move will be."

The term "mafia" confused him briefly until he realized that he might have mean't Syndicate, unless the Mafia were really here. Bad news for the Mafia, in that case.

"They are planning to cause another riot using the tension from the last one, to keep the authorities busy while they smuggle drugs".

The terrified man said as the ghostly creature stood over him. Was this thing a mutant? It spoke English, wanted to know where a crime organization's next move would be.

As the conversation ended, the creature created a portal behind him and entered through it, closing shut behind him and the footage ending with the man, sliding down against the wall and curling up, obviously crying in shock and fear.

"Whatever it was really scared the shit out of him. Can you draw up a facial recognition on that man? If there is a mutant in my city, I need to know. I'll start with him. For now, I'll put Wolfenstein on hold unless he tries to take me out again, which I doubt. Any more special footage that needs my attention?" Richard said, raising from his chair.

"Just one. It's not crime-related, but I thought you might like this." Ollie said, putting the news footage on the largest screen.

"We now know that the person helping us during our time of need was in fact, Iron Owl. We've heard the stories from the Mayor, Seattle PD, and Washington State Police. Why, why would he go to the trouble of helping subdue the criminals if he was trying to destroy the city? If it wasn't for Iron Owl, Seattle would still be embroiled in a tug-of-war for control of the city. We'd have more dead First Responders, chaos, and the Mayor's Office would be burned to the ground. Because of that vigilante, we are standing here, speaking today. I'm just saying. We've been so critical of Owl and his methods, the Police wanna kill him, Mayor want's to send him to maximum security, why don't we give him a chance?" The excerpt from the Seattle District Attorney was cut off.

"Hm. I like it. Police won't stop and neither will the Mayor, but he's got balls for going on live TV and saying that. I did what I had to to save the city. This place is my home. That's what all of this is, Ollie." He said, approaching his set of armor and picking up the helmet, examining brand new polish Pryce had put on it.

"I do for to make the world a better place. I do this so nobody else has to watch as their friends are slaughtered." The room entered a moment of silence. Rarely did Richard bring up what happened in Nigeria so long ago. He never discussed the emotional destruction, the tear between him and his family, the months of reckless drunk abandon that nearly killed him a few times.

"I'm gonna head out. Mark's probably been trying to get ahold of me all damn week. I told him I'd go with him to the Security Expo in London yesterday. I'll have to explain to him how I got shitfaced drunk and partied like I usually tell everyone. You'd think him being CEO of Salus, he'd loosen his grip on me." Richard said as he walked out of the Owl's Nest, the staircase closing shut behind him.

[New United States of Columbia]

Chicago, Illinois

---

Mercer, to the normal man, appeared to be a monster as bad as the ones currently hunted and hated by CADMUS. A freakishly tall being, with sickly green skin, demonic looking power armor, and a frighteningly deep voice didn't give one the best of PR to work with. He didn't care though. So long as it got people out of his way then it worked just fine for him. He had long accepted the fact he wasn't "human" anymore. So long as he could kill the REAL monsters; the illegally enhanced, the Vanguard, and all the other mutants and abnormals, then he would be a happy weapon. The heavy helicopter that was carrying him began to slow and he could see briefly out the window that they were landing. It'd been a helluva long flight from Fort Knox to here. This hellhole of a city, Chicago. He hated it. He hated many things but cities were one of them.

The rear ramp lowered with a mechanical whirr and he was greeted by the sight of what he presumed were several CADMUS agents. They showed slight signs of fear. All but one at least. As his midnight black power armor feet banged on the metal floor as he lumbered towards them his red eye pieces scanned them over, the computer in the helmet pulling up relevant information and CADMUS' files on them.
"I heard there are several mutants here," the deep voiced creature began, his tone making it clear he was imagining the "fun" he would be having with them "when do I terminate their wretched lives?"

[The Arks]

Garret Wolman/Wolfenstein
Chicago, Illinois
2043

Garret hated Chicago already. Just the sight of the city made him cringe. Whether it was the military lockdown, the massive unwarranted windgusts, the radical liberal politics, or something else, he couldn't decide; something about the city just really pushed his buttons. So he was grateful to see a familiar face approach him while he was sitting outside the Walmart, packing the road trip supplies-- snacks, soda, etc-- that he had just bought into his sedan.

"Jacob, I see you got my message." Garret said, closing the passenger door to his car and walking toward the young fellow.

"Mr. Kingsman! I should have known it was you. You're always very cryptic and paranoid," Jacob said, embracing Garret. Mr. Kingsman was the name Garret gave to the members of the Gambino family who didn't need to know much about him when he met them in person. The family's leaders knew that he was Wolfenstein, but the rest of the family knew him only as an information broker-- when they needed a specialist like an assassin, illegal supplies, or even blackmail material, he was one of the people they would call.

"Healthy paranoia has saved this family more than once," Garret said, stepping back from Jacob and looking him up and down. They did like each other as associates, but didn't know each other well enough to be on hugging terms-- the hug had been so both parties could feel the other for wires. The two were apparently satisfied that neither one was wired or bugged, and got in Garret's car. Jacob had to get in the back seat due to the supplies hogging the front.

"So you said you needed into Chicago urgently, but you couldn't pass through the checkpoints. What's your power?" Jacob asked, grinning. The kid was young-- too young to know to mind his own business. "Can you read minds? Shoot lasers? No, don't tell me-- you're from Krypton and get invincible when you're in the sun?"

"Water into wine. I'm basically Jesus." Garret said, making Jacob laugh. After a moment Jacob got a startled look on his face.

"Wait, are you serious? That's it?" He said.

"That's it. Where are we headed?"

"I'm not gonna lie... that sucks. To think CADMUS would imprison you for that."

"Jacob, where are we headed?" Garret asked more forcefully.

"Uh, yeah, take the next right, then a left, and hang another right." Jacob said, disappointment in his voice. Garret followed the instructions, and was led to a series of town homes. Beyond them, a wall that Cadmus had constructed, marking the barrier of the city. Garret pulled into one of the town home's garages and turned of the car, both parties exiting. They entered the evidently deserted home, and Jacob directed him to the kitchen.

"I'm not demonstrating." Garret said as they entered the kitchen. Jacob chuckled as he stood in front of the stove.

"No, I wouldn't ask you to. Your power is kind of lame." Jacob said, pulling out the stove. It pulled out onto the linoleum floor, revealing a piece of the floor that had been cut. Jacob grabbed a small handle and pulled, revealing a trap door. "No offense, by the way."

"None taken-- did you guys dig this hole in the last two days?" Garret asked, looking into it.

"Nah, it's left over from the 20th century. This was a safehouse, and if the cops showed up, whoever they wanted would slip in here and take it to a different safe house. Some of them were found, but this one never was." Jacob replied.

"Well, you first." Garret said, motioning down.

"I have to stay to close it all up. Just take it to the next safe house; we left a care package for you there." Jacob said. Garret looked at him, and peered into the future. Seeing that there was no trap waiting inside the tunnel, he nodded and climbed inside. Jacob handed him a flashlight and then shut the trapdoor. Garret turned it on and followed the tunnel, having to duck almost the entire time, for what seemed like days. Finally, he reached the end, where there was a ladder leading up to a trapdoor. He reached it and peered into the future again. Seeing that there was no trap on this side as well, he opened the door forcefully and tipped over a chair. He climbed out into a carpeted living room in a nicely decorated home, and quickly shut the trapdoor and fixed the chair. Walking over to the counter, he found the care package: A disposable cell phone, a Luger with a full magazine, a detailed map of the city and $200. Smiling, he took the equipment and then looked at the map. He identified the Syndicate safehouse in the city about 2 miles away, in the south side. Taking a deep breath, he placed the map in his jacket and left the home, preparing for yet another long walk.

[Futrellia]

Iron Owl
Parkdell Apartments
2329 NE 55th Street
Seattle, Washington
10:15pm

---

Another thunderstorm lingered above the megacity. Sheets of heavy rain poured from the skies as lightning danced across the blackened clouds shrouded in night's cloak. Across from the Apartments stood the Iron Owl, staying low and watching a single window, covered with drapes, the low light from a television was all that could be made out.

"The man threatened by the anomaly from the security camera is Devin Parkavello. He ran cocaine across the borders of Mexico and Texas until 2032 for the Los Zetas cartel. In 2033 he moved to Italy, disguising it as a trip to visit his family from the old country. In actuality, he began working with the Syndicate's Italian chapter from 2033 to 2037. For an entire year, the Italian State Police in conjunction with the Italian Army, tracked down every Syndicate location and shut down the entire chapter. Mr. Parkavello was able to flee back to the United States and has lived under the Syndicate's nose since. That was, until that figure forced him to confess to a Syndicate operation in Seattle." Ollie said.

"Let's go have a word with him then. Ollie, take control of the apartment electrical systems. Shut down power for Apartment C9." Owl said, raising up and jumping down from the building.

Inside the apartment, Mr. Parkavello sat on his couch, taking a deep inhale from his bong, attempting to calm his nerves from his last encounter that rendered him emotionally unstable. The lights cut off with a snap, causing him to nearly fall over his living room table in shock.

"Please! No, please! I'm sorry! I..I...I didn't mean to upset you again!" The lights flickered back to life, with Iron Owl standing in the shadows of the nearby corner of the run-down apartments. Devin Parkavello managed to find his way to the opposite corner, curled into a ball, tears falling from his eyes almost immediately.

"Wait....no, it's you. I thought you were dead..." he said in a much calmer fashion.

"I got better. And you're going to start talking before you take my place in that coffin." Owl said, moving closer to the man.

"What do you mean, talk?! I had nothing to do with that freak who shot you, man! I don't know anything about it. I-i-i-i stayed far away from all of that!" He managed to get out that last bit just as Owl grabbed him by the throat and pressed him against the wall.

"Tell me about the thing you saw two nights ago. That Grim Reaper..." His words cut through Parkavello's mind and body like a sharp dagger. He immediately broke down in tears.

"Please....please don't make me talk about him again." He pleaded. Owl spun and slung him into his television, causing a loud shattering and crashing sound.

"You think what he did to you was brutal? You've never seen a man's skin peeled back from his muscles!" Owl used his gloves fingerblades to slice open the skin on his right arm, causing a gaping gash to open, forcing blood out of it. Parkavello let out a blood curdling scream that could be heard throughout the entire apartment complex.

"He just wanted to know about the Syndicate's next move!!! That's all he wanted!! It's not human...I-i-it appeared right out of thin air, right out of the fuckin' shadows!" Parkavello erupted with tears and screams. Knowing he would get nothing more from the man, he decided to be merciful to him. He would be found by the Police and set to jail. He gave him a hard punch right to the nose, knocking him out. He used his gauntlet to inject Medifoam into his wound, causing the bleeding to stop. It would hold until the Police arrived and arrested him.

Iron Owl exited the apartment through the balcony, just as the red and blue lights of Seattle's finest turned the corner of the street.

"Ollie, any activity picked up by the drones?"

"None worthy of note, sir. I've piggybacked onto a few GPS satellites to broaden my search. If anything appears, I will notify you. It also appears that a large Syndicate convoy is moving towards Mercer Island through I-90 Express. Exiting onto East Mercer Way."

Owl let out a chuckle. He was all too ready to confront the Syndicate once more. Just to send them the message that their hitman didn't finish the job.

"Then let's welcome them home." he said, diverting the course of the IronJet towards Mercer Island.

4352 E Mercer Way
Mercer Island
Seattle, WA
10:58pm

---

The convoy of 6 Chevy Tahoes navigated through the twisted roads of Mercer Island through the heavy rain. Inside the center Tahoe was Chester Hill, nicknamed Chez. Heavily wanted in Texas, Oklahoma, and Nevada, Chez was to serve as new head of operations for the Seattle chapter, after the death of Salazar. With Iron Owl out of the way, they had big plans for Seattle, starting with making Mercer Island their stronghold. As they pulled up to the modern looking house, they noticed all of the lights were off and blinds down. They parked their vehicles and turned off their lights to avoid raising suspicion.

"Tony and his squad should be in there. Why aren't the lights on?"

"Maybe the power's out? Radio 'em" The two front seat occupants ended their conversation at that, the passenger took out his radio.

"Tony, you there?" He waited and received no response on his end.

"Tony, report in. How's it looking in there?" He said once more, with no reply.

"Alright, fuck this. Stay here, Sir." The driver said, speaking of Chez. Chez didn't care to listen to the punks, and decided to get out anyway into the pouring rain. The other occupants of the five Tahoes walked forward, their guns raised. The 24 bodyguards put onto Chez were responsible for getting him to this address and keeping him safe while he operates there. As they moved towards the front door, they left two men there to keep a lookout. Just as soon as they got to the front door, two explosions rocked them, the sounds of the front and rear Tahoes erupting into balls of fire, the two bodyguards hit with shrapnel from the explosions.

"Get him inside!" Yelled one of the men, they took up positions around the front door, just as soon as Iron owl descended down in the IronJet, letting loose a flurry of machine gun fire that tore apart 8 of the gunmen as they tried to return fire, forcing the others inside of the dark house.

Once they got in, they saw the bodies of Tony and his squad, hung from the ceiling, the word "owl" painted across their chest. The remaining 14 gunmen rushed in, avoiding getting torn apart by the Jet's guns.

"Call in for backup, now!"

"Reggi! We need more guys over here at the safehouse! We've been attacked, at least ten guys down!"

"You'll never see the sun again." A deepened voice crackled through the radio.

"What the fuck!" Said the man, chunking his radio at the wall, causing it to shatter in a million pieces. They retreated through the house, attempting to get to the saferoom, turning on the flashlights on their SMGs. A figure came flying through one of the many windows, releasing a handful of steel balls that bounced to the ground, rolling towards the men, already firing on the shadows left behind by the figure. One by one, the circular grenades went off, causing massive damage to the house and killing an unknown number of the men.

Chez managed to avoid much of the damage and retreated the opposite direction towards the garage. As he reached it, he saw the two older model F-150 trucks from Tony's squad inside, using them to hide from the figure.

The figure slowly walked inside the Garage, unafraid of what was there.

"I know you're-" the deepened artificial voice was interrupted by gunfire. The bullets seemed to bounce off of the figure's cape as one of the bodyguards survived, trying to finish off this intruder. As fast as lightning, the Owl rolled towards the man, grabbing the gun and pulling it up out of his hands. He spun, using his gauntlet blades to slice the man's throat wide open.

Chez, still hiding, was grabbed by the hair and pulled upward. He waited just along enough to open his eyes and see the Iron Owl's piercing grey lights of the mask. He threw Chez through the garage door, breaking his back in several places.

Owl walked out into the rain, the house slowly beginning to burn up from the explosions in the background. He kneeled down to Chez, who was throwing up blood and could barely speak.

"This is how you are going to die. You will lay here, choke on your blood until your body can't handle it any longer. Then you will descend into Hell and face this same agony every. Single. Moment of eternity. Have fun." He said, raising up and ascending back into the IronJet.

[Kenmoria]

Charles Smithson
Chicago
CADMUS state HQ

Minute after minute, hour then hour, day by day, Charles languished in the cold, uncomfortable prison cell. Time had passed, though he knew not how much. It could have been only for a day although the ordeal felt like a few weeks; there was no way of telling the time, indeed the room appeared completely isolated from the outside world. It was like a bubble floating in a vast sea of emptiness. Charles knew from the various snippets of information that Vanguard had managed to obtain what the most common clause of death was. It wasn't killings by the random checking of the cells by the CADMUS guards, it wasn't the result of muscle atrophy after being unable to exercise for so long, it wasn't simple starvation or malnutrition caused by the few meals. The biggest killer of those stuck in the custody of CADMUS was suicide - days of complete isolation proved as damaging to the mind as bullets to the body.

The fate that too many of Vanguard's own had experienced was one Charles was trying to avoid. Yet this was a challenge he feared he could not overcome. For this was a battle with no vleaf opponent, obviously CADMUS was the enemy but in this cell they could all be dead and it would not make one atom of difference. The real foe that had killed countless supers within the USA was themselves. Even in the busiest cities America had to offer, there was always a crushing sense of isolation. This was caused by an almost irrevocable mindset in the people of the world. Mutants were the enemy - Vanguard are terrorists - CADMUS are the heros. This led to a constant feeling of being alone, even when this was not physically the case. Now that Charles was actually alone the feeling was only made worse.

[Arkeyana]

The Wraith

The Wraith rose out of the ground in front of the potential stronghold. After going over maps with Sammy, the found Mercer Island would be a potential target. Seeing the IronJet's lights, he decided to have some fun. He made the shadows coalesce around him like smoke before darting through one of the lights and into the building. he saw the last of the soldiers get killed by the Owl and hid in the shadowy corners. "Heh", he said, looks like I've been beaten to the punch". He then created a portal and exited through it, the room collapsing soon after.

The Warehouse

The portal opened and the Wraith passed through. He turned back into Drake Lawrence and tapped Sammy on the shoulder. Startled, she whirled around and saw him barely containing his laughter. "HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE", she asked. "just got back, apparently the Iron Owl beat us to the punch. Looking disappointed, Sammy said "oh well, back to the drawing board". They then pulled up another map and looked through it.

[New Neros]

Hugo Khan | Titan
Lake Michigan
Chicago, Illinois

The feeling of falling was not too familiar to Titan, and it sent a wave of primal panic throughout his body from head to toe. That true fear of plummeting was soon replaced as Hugo slammed hard into the cold surface of Lake Michigan and sunk deep under the waves, unable to breathe and setting off another instinctive primal panic. As he entered into an adrenaline rush from hell, his body took over, and began to unleash it's electrical energy in an effort to stay alive. To the casual observer, it would look like a bolt of lightning struck the lake and transferred it's energy across the surface, which at this point was the only way Titan could enter the walled city.

By creating a temperature difference in the water, Titan's body rose quickly to the surface, where he took in a massive gulp of watery air. He began to try and calm himself, wanting nothing more than to be dry, but regardless he started treading water, and swimming toward the nearby shoreline. CADMUS had closed off major roads and entrances into Chicago, yet only closed ferries to the waterfront with patrols here and there, which was a perfect way to slip into the city. Not that Titan had wanted that, he was hoping that the lightning would bring him to the Willis Tower or some other skyscraper, not the icy waters of Lake Michigan. Either way, the Vanguard-affiliate carefully made his way to shore at Edgewater, winding up at the northern end of Lincoln Park.

He lazily trucked up the beach, looking on as the cities' skyscrapers illuminated the sands due to how close they were. As he walked toward Lake Shore Drive, he accidentally stumbled upon a hastily built fire and campsite. As he drew near, it became clear that some homeless and squatters had made their camp for the night there, and as soon as Titan noticed them, they noticed the soaking wet man stumbling toward them. "You been swimmin' past the pier this late?" An old, grizzly man called out, tearing open a tin can of processed food with a rusty can opener.

Titan's eyes were darting around, and he motioned out to the lake and coughed a bit. "Ah, heh, ah, yep, the lake about got me." He stared longingly at the fire, a group of five bums all scanning him up and down. He was wearing only jeans, boots, and a t-shirt, and looked like he had no valuables or anything that could put the bums in danger. "Do ya, do ya mind if I dry off a bit with y'all?"

The bums made room for the newcomer, who plopped down on the sandy beach as close as he could to the fire. He lifted off his shirt and jeans, sitting at the fire with only his underwear for protection. The fire warmed something deep inside him, allowing him to fully relax and set himself at ease. He also stretched out his clothes and put them close to the fire, hoping they'd dry out by morning. The hobos talked amongst themselves and passed over Titan, who was busy trying to stop shivering, but he was eventually included in their talks. "So what brings you out to the Windy City?"

Titan looked up at the man asking, a portly, unwashed bum who seemed to be missing some teeth. "I - um, how'd you know I'm not from here?" He asked with a smirk.

"Kid, no one swims in the Lake. And you called us 'y'all', you know." Another one said, to which, the other four agreed.

Titan withdrew a bit, wondering how much he can trust the local homeless. "Well, I came here for business." He said, recalling his recent order, which was to get to Chicago as fast as possible. "I just, uh, you know."

"Kid," Another hobo said, "You don't gotta be so jumpy." The man looked around at his compatriots, his eyes a bit shifty, "We aren't with 'em."

Titan snapped on a serious look and eyed the five men one by one. "Aren't with who?" He snarled, gathering enough voltage to flat line each and every hobo he saw.

A concerned look filled some of the men, but they responded quickly, "Those mutie hunters. Ain't no reason to get all jumpy, we keep to ourselves and don't talk to no one. We ain't gonna say we saw you fall from the sky into the Lake, bud. We're just... down-on-our-luck folks who want a warm meal and a place to sleep. Mutants don't bother me none, if you are one or something along those lines. 'Cause we may or may not have a couple here with us."

At that moment, Titan realized the sand he sat on was rapidly sinking down, and another hobo eyed him with intense resolve. "What if I told you," Titan said, feeling his hand sink under the sand quickly, "That my business is with mutants, and I'm a wanted man?"

"Wanted?" A hobo said, "Wanted by who, CADMUS or Vanguard?"

"If I had to fall from the sky instead of taking an armored car here, do you have to ask?" As he spoke, the sand seemed to stop sinking, and Titan pulled himself free, sitting Indian style in front of the five homeless men. "That was pretty risky for all of us, ain't it?" He asked, trying to diffuse the tension. "I work with Vanguard, terrorists and all that, and they're needing some firepower for some operation in the area. I don't know much else and I don't know why I feel the need to tell you, but you seem like stand-up gentlemen who were close to being fried."

"Well, Vanguard's been good to us and we keep to ourselves. You were close to be buried in sand and burned into glass, fellow mutie." The lead bum said, "So, I reckon you ought to get to your appointment soon. Leave us here to bum around a bit, no need to draw attention to us."

"We could use your help, you know." Titan said, gathering his partially dry clothing, "It's dangerous to be... Us, out here. We can provide what we can, and surely it's better than eating cat food." He said, motioning to their suspicious smelling tin can.

"Friend, whether I'm a bum or a mutie don't make a difference to a law man. I'd rather be beaten in the streets than dragged off, never to be seen again, though. Thanks for the offer, but I gotta decline with my boys. Take care." Titan nodded, knowing that the path he travels isn't the best for some, and even those with nothing to lose still feel reluctant to throw their lot in Vanguard. It simply strengthened his resolve to make a better world, wanting to erase such stigma that would hold back mutantkind. Those bums on the beach made him realize just how it bad it was to be abnormal in America, and it drove him to make the walk to a designated safehouse on the other side of the Chicago River.

[Bentus]

Co-write by Bentus, Arengin Union and the V O I D.

Dr Jacob Peters - CADMUS Office of Research and Development
O’Hare International Airport, Chicago

---

Jacob took a sip of his coffee, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste and the scolding temperature, but savouring the beverage regardless. He could immediately feel the effects of the caffeine coursing through his system, smirking as he once again appreciated the remarkable properties of the fast-acting chemical compound. Sitting in the middle of the United lounge, a much-needed breakfast from Starbucks courtesy of the US taxpayer on the table before him, Jacob looked no different to any of the other countless business travellers that passed through the 99 year old port. Banners and signs dotted the terminal proclaiming the upcoming centenary and the associated latest-round of infrastructure improvements. They were finally connecting the interterminal metro directly to the state-wide hyperloop. It was an ambitious improvement to be sure, but at the same time Jacob found it hard to get excited for a technology that was last cutting edge way back in the 2020s. As it was, his eyes were glued to the screen of the tablet propped up on the table in front of him.

The files of the captured mutant – Stardust Man is what he called himself – were displayed prominently on the high-resolution display. Medical records, personal information, blood tests, field observations, anything that could prove useful in the researcher’s initial analysis of the new subject had been downloaded onto this CADMUS-provided device during the flight. His eyes skimmed over the images, mentally recording the deluge of information that was passing before him. Of course, to any casual observer it would appear as if he were simply browsing his Facebook feed, the screen camouflaging itself with polarised light that his inconspicuous glasses worked to filter out. It was all a bit cloak-and-dagger for the scientist, but he could see why the Field Office insisted on the feature. He had a concentrated expression on his face, the gravity of this latest captive not escaping his notice. The ability to alter matter itself was not a capability to be taken lightly, and who knew how far Stardust Man’s powers stretched? Not to mention the possible dangers that could result from the power’s misuse.

Annette meanwhile was seated on the opposite side of the café’s table, a wide smile betraying her excitement as she constantly glanced around to take in all of their surroundings. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a knitted sweater that was blatantly a few sizes too big for her, the sleeves extending down past her wrists and halfway down her palms. She was also wearing a cap over her head, despite being indoors, to hide her antennae – the sweater served a similar function for her transparent wings. This was her first time she had been in Chicago, and the mutant was determined to make the most of her visit. A small pamphlet titled “Things to See and do in the Windy City” was folded up in her back pocket, and she had spent the flight pouring over its contents and prioritising her sightseeing plans. Better still, Dr Peters had said that they may be in the city for a while; usually her outings from CADMUS’ New York facility rarely lasted more than a few days.

Annette’s eyes looked out from the large glass wall that separated the members’ lounge from the main terminal concourse down below. She followed the paths of other travellers, trying to imagine what their stories were simply by looking at them. That one man in a well-trimmed suit was a frequent traveller, a diplomat of some kind who travelled the world defusing crises that she would never hear about. The woman with the two children by the baggage carrousel was arriving to be reunited with her long-lost husband. The server at the Burger King was actually a student travelling the world in a gap year, paying his way through odd jobs wherever he stopped for a couple of nights – refusing to be tied down to any one place for too long. Annette continued on like this, creating colourful histories and motivations for the ants that meandered on the floor below her, while Jacob scrawled briefly through the headlines that had cropped up in the past few hours.

Most were the usual celebrity nonsense, but one recent commentary caught his attention. It didn’t take him long to read through the oped on the recent Senate hearing, and he couldn’t say that he was really surprised by the outcome. Tapping to open one of the secure messaging apps he had installed on the tablet – safely on a virtual machine separate from his work – Jacob wrote out a quick message.

@AllSeeingEye, thoughts on the Senate hearing? I was certain that Narodny was going to get chewed up and spat out. Looks like he pulled the rabbit from the hat though.

The words immediately moved up the screen into their own private chat bubble, indicating that they had crossed the vast gulf that was the world wide web. Three ellipses began to blink at the bottom of Jacob’s screen, and it wasn’t more than a few seconds before a response arrived.

Narodny got lucky. If it was literally anyone else, it probably wouldn't have ended the way it did.

He mulled over the words for a few moments. Jacob had first met the elusive voice behind the AllSeeingEye handle a few months ago. Even before that point he had engaged in lively scientific discussion with the other user on more than one anonymous forum.

Intrigued by their candid commentary and frankly witty style of expression, Jacob found himself wondering about the identity of whoever was sitting on the other side of the monitor. It was during one heated debate over the merits of an article Jacob had written on mutant epigenetics, in which the AllSeeingEye had handily pointed out an embarrassing number of logical fallacies, that he had reached out to them and revealed his true identity as the paper’s author. Not more than two weeks after that Jacob was regularly messaging his new pen pal and even asking for them to proofread some early drafts for upcoming papers.

I didn’t think you were the type to put things down to luck? I would say that he played the Senators like a set of fiddles – they walked right into every political trap that he laid as if they just wanted to hand him the good press.

Alex took pause, when reading this, before putting up her response.

Yes; they did walk into every political trap he laid, without fail or question. Not one of the Senators even bothered to ask themselves, 'Wait, is this a trap?', and that is despite the fact some of those Senators are older than Narodny and should have more experience regarding those sorts of things. I don't know about you, but that smells like either [b[]very[/b] good luck, or... perhaps, corruption.

Maybe some of the Senators have mutant kids, and they are protecting their kids by nodding along to Narodny's tune? Who knows. Point is, it seems almost unnatural. Hell, maybe Narodny himself is a mutant in disguise, trying to remove the competition.

Alex had always portrayed herself as quite the cynic; and, in a way, she was.

Jacob smirked at the response, repressing a slight chuckle at the bitterness that seeped even through the virtual connection.

Careful, one of these days you may get mistaken for one of the conspiracy nuts out there rather than as someone who actually has a rational brain cell or two. I’m inclined to think that he’s just good at his job: being a politician.

A flashing icon drew away Jacob’s attention.

Got to get back to work. Let me know if you stumble on anything interesting out there.

This was one of those moments Alex wished she had real lungs, so she could sigh.

Sorry to hear that. You're fun to talk to. Maybe we could video-chat sometime? It'd be nice to put a face to your name.

The request caught Jacob off guard, and he found himself staring at the screen for a few seconds longer than was necessary. Eventually his fingers flashed across the keypad.

I'd like that. Message me a time that works for you.

And with that, Jacob logged off of the server, unable to continue to divert his attention from the blinking light. Closing out of one messaging app, Jacob immediately dove into another, responding to the expected video call from his contact in Omega.


“Dr Jacob Peters here, Mr Garcia it’s a pleasure to be working with you and your organisation.” That was nothing short of a blue-faced lie. Jacob had also looked over the mercenary’s file and had determined that he didn’t like the man before he’d even met him. Like much of the goons that Omega chose to employ, Manuel Garcia was an extremist with a predisposition for excessive violence. “I’ve gone over the subject’s files. He’s absolutely incredible, I’m looking forward to speaking with him face-to-face.”

“One grande Caramel Oreo Frappuccino?”

Jacob glanced up at the woman in the Starbucks uniform, responding by gesturing towards Annette as he listened to the mercenary’s response. Annette’s smile widened greedily at the sight of the beverage as she slapped her hands – still mostly buried in her long sleeves – together greedily. Making sure to thank the woman, Annette wasted no time and began happily slurping down on the drink’s straw.

“I had some of our non-lethal weaponry loaded along with my equipment for you to use in the field. Mostly sonic emitters that should do the trick against some of the heavy-hitters you encountered earlier.”


Manuel kept a very stale look over the skype chat as he looked over the files on the mutant codename “Stardust Man” he set them aside. It was morning already, the sun shining through on Manuel’s room. A wall covered with guns of different types was visible, contrasting to Jacobs 2040 hipster Starbucks surroundings. Manuel set his shades on as he put on his vest and the rest of the equipment, listening to Jacobs words without much care.

Finally he set his attention back on the chat. He sat down on the stool and then listened to the last bit of Jacob’s talk. Manuel finally spoke “I’ll get my men ready. Be here by noon, we have an operation to assemble.” Manuel said as he abruptly ended the chat, leaving Jacob in a rather annoyed and confused state.

Left staring at a blank screen, Jacob blinked twice in surprise at the sudden blunt dismissal. With a sigh, he removed his earbuds and leant back in his chair, mulling over the brief conversation and the prospect of working alongside the mercenary. Annette seemed oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place, content to wait for Jacob to speak while she continued to enjoy her drink.

“Alright, let’s get going.”

Meanwhile in the Omega Corporation office, Manuel took a few steps, the pain from the leg wound was kicking in. The prosthetic he had helped him move as if there was no wound at all. But there was pain from time to time, he still walked like there was none at all, sucking it up and grabbing his UMP from the wall. He opened the sliding door and his men were already waiting out for him, no one walked in front of him, they let him walk through as they stayed at the side. This time he was not about to let amy mut get the best of him.


Manuel and his men began to move to the lobby. The cars were waiting outside already, this time two of them had 50. Cal machineguns at the top in case any more ambushes would entail.

Manuel and his men got into the black SUV’s, with two of them getting into the machine guns, it was four in total, one turret car in front, the other right at the end, another car, this one a truck for carrying cargo in the middle, the other two SUV’s in front and the back of the truck. Manuel sat in the fourth car and used a tablet to read on the report of the mutant’s capture, he was indeed a dangerous individual. He set the tablet on the side and prepared his MP5, unloading the magazine and checking if it was full, he then looked through the window row after row of buildings and people walking to their workplaces, it was the usual busy city day in Chicago. The convoy rode on to the airport, they would arrive way before Jacob and his freak would, they were instructed to protect both in any case of attack by the Vanguard. Already Omega Brigade personnel was at the airport, guarding the mutant.

Omega Corporation Facility - O’Hare International, Chicago, IL

---

Since the passage of the Mutant Bill, CADMUS’ operations had exploded across the country. In order to keep up with their suddenly increased responsibilities, the agency constructed holding facilities to apprehend suspected mutants at most major ports - especially once it became apparent that old TSA cells were inadequate. In some cases, CADMUS opted to contract this duty out to third parties, and the Omega Corporation managed suspects at O’Hare until CADMUS could arrive to transfer them to a more permanent location.

Constructed underground and kept under perhaps the tightest security found in the entire airport, Jacob had to admit that he impressed with the operation that Omega were running. He had expected to see cut corners, but as far as he could tell the corporation had done a good job in ensuring that O’Hare was capable of safely containing any dangerous mutants that were caught trying to travel. He still couldn’t shake a feeling of unease at CADMUS’ most popular contractor. Rumours often circulated regarding their methods, and Jacob found that the they weren’t too far from some of the more extreme elements within the Field Office itself.

Annette glanced around at the spartan surroundings of the underground room with a disappointed expression. It looked just like a smaller version of home. Concrete dominated the space, with metal reinforcements ensuring that the facility had the strength of a bunker, while natural sunlight was unheard of within its confines. With her drink now long empty, Annette could feel herself becoming increasingly bored. She wished that something exciting would happen already, if only to break the monotony of moving from counter to counter and clerk to clerk throughout the airport.

The door that lead to the inside of the building opened to reveal at least a dozen men, all armed to the teeth with a variety of weapons and equipped with different gear. Some carried surplus military gear with camo patters, others carried plain black vest or flak jackets and one of them carried a very different outfit. A tall man, he stood above the rest, carrying a black vest with an assortment of gear, with graying hair and a chain lock beard with stubble growing at the sides of his face. He wore sunglasses and had a communicator on his ear. Very sharp white dress pants, blue dress shirt with the sleeves up and carrying an MP5 submachine gun. He approached Jacob and Annette.

“Hello, I’m Manuel, please to beg your acquaintance.” Manuel said with an ominous look as he extended his hand to Jacob.

Raising an eyebrow at the heavily armed and armoured soldiers, Jacob met Manuel’s hand halfway with a firm shake. “Likewise. This is Annette,” The young girl offered a friendly smile as she waved at the mercenary, “She will be assisting your team directly while I offer support. Now tell me, where is this Stardust Man?”

Manuel took a glance at Annette, he was not that shocked, he had been told previously that a mut would be assisting them. His men looked at her with varied emotions, some had lost limbs to mutants before, having them replaced with bionics so they would have a dark thoughts when having a mutant this close to them.

[The Arks]

Garret Wolman/Wolfenstein
Chicago, IL
2043

Garret reached the laundromat that served as one of the Syndicates fronts in the city, walking past the two or three people doing their laundry and walking into the back room. He was in a loose suit, Luger hidden by a shoulder holster on his left side. He walked up to the second floor of the building, where a man sat behind the desk with four people in the corners of the room, all armed. The man looked up, his wrinkled face showing the stressful years that the drug empire had put on him.

"Ah, mister Wolfenstein. Right on time; take a seat." The man said in a Brazilian accent. Garret walked into the room and stood in front of the desk, refusing the chair.

"I'm not here to chat, boss. I'm here to collect my due." Garret said.

"Well, you see, that's our problem. Turns out, Iron Owl may not actually be dead." the underboss replied.

"Bullshit. I sent your bosses the videos. They saw him die. Give me the bounty." Garret replied, still maintaining a calm voice.

"This comes from my bosses. No payment till the job is done-- you fucked it up, so you don't get paid yet."

Garret looked down, nodding his head. He took a deep breath as he chuckled and drew his Luger, handling it with both hands. The four guards in the room each drew their pistols, and the underboss seemed completely unphased.

"You know what I like about Lugers, boss?" Garret asked, still twisting the gun in his hands.

"They can actually kill a man the first time you use it?" he replied. Garret laughed audibly that time, and then looked up to the underboss.

"They're very dependable-- I can always depend on it to misfire when dropped." Garret replied as he dropped the gun. It fell to the ground and fired up through the desk and into the underboss, who began screaming in pain. Garret twisted back toward the guard to his rear left and backhanded the hand holding the pistol and it fired, the bullet striking the man in the front right side of the room. Garret pushed himself behind the guard and used the guard as a human shield, using the guard as a pincushion for bullets as he sprinted forward, smashing the corpse into the guard in the rear right corner of the room. He then jumped back, dodging a bullet, and then jumped and pushed off the wall-- dodging another bullet-- and struck the guard in the front left side of the room in the face. He pulled the man into a headlock and snapped his neck, took the pistol out of the corpse's hand as he dropped it, and then finished off the two living guards with a bullet to the head.

"Well that was unnecessary." Garret said as he dropped the pistol and rubbed his gloved hands. He noticed that on the underboss's desk was a nutcracker next to a bag of walnuts, and picked it up, turning to the still screaming underboss. "So, where are the ten million dollars you owe me?"

"Fuck you! Fuck you, fuck your whore mother, fuck your whole--" The man was cut off as Garret flipped the office chair back and onto the ground, making the underboss cry out in pain. Looking at the man, Garret realized his bullet had gone through the man's scrotum, removing one of his balls. Garret smiled as his purpose for the nutcracker went from breaking knuckles to other things.

Less than five minutes later, a furious Garret walked out of the laundromat, calling on his cell phone.

"Jacob, I need another favor from the family." he said.

"What is it?" Jacob asked, curiosity in his voice.

"I need a detective and an undercover cop car in less than five minutes."

"What the hell do you need that for? That's a tall order-- and in five minutes?"

"Don't worry, you'll get your money's worth. I'll text you the address." Garret hung up and walked to a nearby street corner, and sure enough, an undercover police car pulled up beside him. A man in a loose jacket rolled down the window and looked at Garret.

"Mr. Kingsman? The family said you needed my services. What's up?" The detective asked. Garret walked around to the other side of the car as he spoke, grateful for the side street being deserted.

"I need your badge and your car, not you."

"What? No, I can't--"

"Do you want the family to know you've been uncooperative, detective?" Garret asked, his piercing eyes looking into the detectives. He had peered into the future several times, seeing if bribery, blackmail, and a variety of other tasks would work. Turns out, fate said that threatening the detective with the family worked beautifully. The detective sighed and got out, handing over his badge to Garret. Garret got in the car and then handed the $200 he had to the detective.

"Go buy yourself something nice. The car will be here when I'm done with it." Flipping on the siren, Garret sped toward the airport; the courier with the cash had left the laundromat just before he got there, and he was not going to let her get on the flight to Mexico City with his money.

[The Cyberiad Council]

The Chicago Incident
Part 1

• Jason Blackwood a.k.a “Skullduggery”
• Joseph Lero, a.k.a “Stardust Man”
• Stephanie Edgemoor a.k.a “Valkyrie”
• Garrick Alban, a.k.a “Zaroff”
• Annette Bareau, a.k.a “Pixie”
• Jacob Peters
• Cypher
• Lance Tunrer, a.k.a “Corpus”
• Garret Wolman a.k.a “Wolfenstein”
• Shard

Cypher
Chicago, Il
Cypher was hurrying down the street towards O’Hare International Airport. He was waiting on Alex's’ response.

“They haven't transported him from the airport yet, but…”

“Thank you Alex, but I have to go.” He hung up the phone and kept walking.

“...There is a big convoy on its way. Great, he’s going to get himself killed.”

---

Garrick looked over his armaments. He hadn’t gotten much lead time on securing the mutant from OHC, but he had top level orders that Subject Stardust was to be taken into CADMUS custody, and thus didn’t have the time to check his gear before loading up with the large team to keep the subject under control. So far, all the checks were satisfactory, but then he made it a point to keep all of his gear in good condition at all times anyways.

“Agent Zaroff, Control,” his radio squawked in his ear. “We have confirmation, all air traffic around O’Hare is being diverted until the subject has been extracted. Report ETA on your arrival.”

“Control, Zaroff, we are ten minutes out from the airport.”

“Understood, Zaroff. Keep it locked down out there.”

---

Joseph only managed to hear some of the guard’s conversation with the convoy, finding out that it was only ten minutes away from picking him up. He quickly starting looking for any possible way to escape the cell, only managing to find one side of it that appeared to be some sort of door. The glass was too strong to be knocked, punched, or smashed open, as only his powers that had some kind of external force were affected by the containment material. Only idea he came up with was to knock over the entire cell, it seemed pretty useless as when they come and pick him up they’d probably just put it back up right. Although, it could possibly create thousands or even millions of micro fractures on the side it falls on, weakening it. However, it would take many, many micro-fractures to bust the glass, and the guards would probably just leave it laying sideways on the ground, and he’d be unable to put it back upright.

He didn’t want to wait to be captured, but he knew it was probably the better option to do for the time being.

---

Garret quickly entered the airport, still reeling from the Syndicates accusations. Botch an assassination? Him? What a joke. Whatever the case, he had to find that courier before he got on a plane. He was only a couple of minutes behind him, so the courier couldn’t have gotten far. He still wore his loose suit and a nice hat.

Suddenly he slowed his pace and looked around. O’hare was one of, if not the, busiest airport in the world. So why was the baggage checking area almost empty?

A woman with a suitcase looked directly at Garret, and he saw her at the same moment. Putting aside the oddness and tapping into his foresight, he quickly went after her as she rushed up the steps of area to the security checkpoints. She thought he couldn’t go to security, and he knew she couldn’t-- she couldn’t explain why there was 10 million dollars in a suitcase-- and he had a trick up his sleeve.

---

Jason was nervous, no doubt. He knew that Chicago was currently a hotbed for CADMUS activity, and wasn’t jaded enough to think that he would be walking through this airport without any issues. Yet, he didn’t show it. He set his jaw and looked straight ahead as he waited for the cramped aircraft to unload its passengers into the terminal. The line moved slowly, allowing Jason to sweep his gaze around the cabin, looking at the people he had flown with for the past several hours. Most of them kept to themselves, gluing their eyes to the floor or directly in front of them. Some, however, cast sideways glances at both Jason and Turner. Focusing, he took control of the air currents in the room, letting sounds carry themselves to his ear much easier than before.

“Is that….”

“Shhh!” Came the harsh whispers from behind him. Jason could only guess what they were talking about, but he could hazard a guess that it wasn’t anything particularly good for him and his companion. They needed to get out of this airport and into the city, and they needed to do it fast.

“I hope you’re ready for some fun-fun times once we get off this plane.” He whispered to Turner, smiling in just the slightest. Jason wasn’t entirely sure how much of his energy Skullduggery had regenerated since their last engagement, but whatever he had left was going to have to make do.

Jason really could’ve used a cigarette right about there.

“I’m more than ready to finally get a chance to stretch my legs. This is when I can really do some fun things, the more people around, the stronger I get. We are going to be flagged as soon as we walk through that checkpoint, so get ready to change. We are about to raise the body count by a few dozen. “

The line snaked on for a few more minutes before it was Jason’s turn to get his blood checked. He didn’t show any apprehension; they pricked his finger and after a moment the green light blinked and he walked through, but stopped to watch Turner.

Turner walked through with some kind of sadistic smile on his face. The TSA agent pricked his finger and placed the sample in the machine. It took longer than Jason’s, and the woman was just about to ask to take his blood again when the light turned red.

“Well, would you look at that Jason? It actually works!” Faster than the panicked agent could react, Corpus grabber her shoulder with his right hand and held up his left. His ulna made a snapping sound before launching out near his hand and embedding its sharpened point in her heart. He retracted it after opening her chest and retrieving two ribs which molded in his hands to resemble curved swords. Alarms began to blare, and he looked at Jason, the smile of delirium beginning to take hold. “Time to fight our way out!”

[The Cyberiad Council]

The Chicago Incident
Part 2

• Jason Blackwood a.k.a “Skullduggery”
• Joseph Lero, a.k.a “Stardust Man”
• Stephanie Edgemoor a.k.a “Valkyrie”
• Garrick Alban, a.k.a “Zaroff”
• Annette Bareau, a.k.a “Pixie”
• Jacob Peters
• Cypher
• Lance Tunrer, a.k.a “Corpus”
• Garret Wolman a.k.a “Wolfenstein”
• Shard

Cypher was about the enter the airport when the alarm sounded. He hurried inside, fighting through a crowd of panicked passengers. He made his way to a bathroom where he unzipped the duffle bag to reveal his mask and uniform.

Subject 1 looked at his reflection in the mirror. He needed his powers, but it was going to hurt like a bitch. He need to wait about another two hours to avoid the negative effects, but he had to rescue the mutant. He took a deep breath and focused. The pain started immediately, followed by something akin to feedback screaming in his skull. It faded away, but the headache persisted. He shook it off and ran out into the airport.

He started sprinting to where CADMUS kept the containment cells, but was intercepted by a group of soldiers rushing to apprehend the mutant at the arrivals terminal. He didn't have time to waste.

“Subject 1!” They all stopped and raised their guns. Cypher took two round disks with blades around the edges off of his belt and gave each of them a hard throw. One ricocheted off of the ground and cut one of the soldiers in the throat before continuing on its way. The other sailed up into the air before cutting a wire suspending a display which crashed down on the men. It wasn’t heavy enough to kill, but it stunned them long enough for Cypher to fire six lethal rounds.

He continued on, and eventually found the holding area. He took cover behind a wall and began to survey the scene.

---

Garret Wolman/Wolfenstein
Garret sprinted as the alarms blared, pulling out his badge and yelling. He didn’t know why the airports alarms were blaring, only that they were and it couldn’t be good for him.

“Chicago PD! Stop that girl!” He shouted, showing his badge and pointing at the courier. She sprinted past panicked people and slid through the security checkpoint, stabbing a TSA agent who tried to stop her. Garret lept over the railing and followed her, paying no mind to security or the activity around him.

---

Joseph heard the gunshots nearby, he wasn’t expecting any rescue of any sort. Whatever it was, someone managed to find him, he quickly slammed the cell’s walls, hoping for whoever was there to notice him as there were already a lot of other containment cells. However he knew it was possible that the rescuer had no key of sorts to open the cell, only a gun to shoot the probably bulletproof glass.

Possibly a hole in the glass could be done via multiple shots at it, but how would he escape with a tiny bullet-sized hole in the cell? In theory it would disrupt the entire containment cell’s defense, allowing him to open it, but there was no guarantee it would work, it’d just be the quick way instead of searching for a card on a dead body.

Joseph slammed the glass wall, making a thud sound.

---

“Zaroff, Central. We have reports of multiple subjects in Concourse C. Injuries and fatalities.”

“Confirm, Concourse C under mutant attack. Splitting up my teams, bulk will go to the terminal, three rollers and a bird remain on already detained subject.”

“Roger, Zaroff. You have the ball.” Garrick switched broadcast frequencies back to the tactical radio.

“Heads up all units, situation on the ground has changed. We have mutant attacks on Concourse C in Terminal 1. We are refocusing on stopping the attack and detaining the subjects. Bird 1, Hold 1, Roll 1 and 2, you are staying on the original subject. Bird 2, 3, take position over Concourse C and prepare to drop personnel. All other rollers, we are going to Terminal 1.” The other vehicles acknowledged the order. One of the birds overhead veered off along with three of the vehicles out onto the tarmac while the rest of the convoy rolled up on Terminal 1. “Lock and load gentlemen. We have live ones in there.

“Zaroff!” Shard walked up having teleported in nearby. He looked slightly agitated. “I’ve been reassigned. Crawford proved ineffective at capturing Subject 1, so I am supposed to lend you a hand mopping this up.”

“Awesome,” Gerrick replied with disdain. There was no two way about it. Gerrick was not a fan of Shard, finding the monster to be just that. A monster. A mad dog out of control. They had crossed paths several times over their mutual careers, and the collateral damage the madman was willing to accept on his ops were beyond anything a control freak like Gerrick could accept. So far the upper ranks hadn’t responded to his multiple reports on Shard’s excesses and recommendations that he be given his own cell in a CADMUS detention facility, if not a bullet in the brain pan. “Understand, something Shard. We have at least two subjects in there and a lot of civilians in the zone. You are operating under my protocols, which means you will not be doing any of your scorched earth hunting style. Do you understand me?”

“Perfectly. Where do you want me?” He had trouble seeing the need to refrain from collateral damage so long as the goal was achieved. Civilians were expendable in his eyes, merely broken eggs to make the metaphorical omelette.

“Just in case they know about you, I want you out of sight until we engage. When we do, jump in behind them and attack them from there. We need to lock this down as fast as possible, and nothing beats complete surprise for ending a fight quick.” He looked around at his men. “Let’s move!” With that, the small army CADMUS soldiers moved into the doors of the Chicago O’Hare International Airport Terminal 1.

Shard popped his neck, and the lights of the airport began to flicker. One of the CADMUS vehicles next to Shard stalled and the driver gave the man a hard stare. “Sorry” he muttered as he walked to follow Zaroff at a distance enough to remain hidden.

[New Cobastheia]

Mode - Fight
Silicon Valley, CA

---

With the light gone the soldiers could see that Theo was gone. But, whoever was here now looked a lot like him, except blood red and transparent and possibly made of psychic energy. Regardless of that fact they started shooting at the thing. In return, the thing did nothing other than roll it’s eyes quite a few times while bullet flew threw it.

Then a tank fired it’s ballistic at the being, and whoever was inside sealed the fate of death upon all the people there. The ballistic exploded the moment it left the barrel. The ground ripped open under the tank and lava spewed out. It formed what looked like some kind of hand with razor-sharp fingers that it has very little control over. In an instant it grabbed hold of the tank, crushing it down to the size of a bowling ball.

Mode started to walk over to the soldiers, still pointlessly firing at it. He stood in front of one of them and slapped him with his hand and with telekinesis, so the man no longer existed at an atomic level. They just continued to fire, thinking they could kill Mode somehow. So Mode gave them a little lesson, by firing back every bullet they had fired at it. Needless to say, there was a lot of blood and dead bodies on the concrete after the final bullet had returned, yet still, there was more CADMUS officers and soldier to be killed.

Mode forced the air around him to converge, creating a tornado of the sorts around him. Mode, using telekinesis, flew up to the top of the funnel where he could get a view of the chaos he was creating. From here he could influence things inside his tornado to come into contact with things they wouldn’t naturally do so with. Such as a van hitting a human at the speeds tornadoes go and then watching the duo of items to fall down to the ground. If the soldier wasn’t dead from the car, he would most certainly be dead when he hit the ground. Mode continued to do this until he ran out of cars to throw at people.

Mode’s hand targeted one of the soldiers. Mode channeled his energy into his hand and fired a beam of psychic energy at any and every one of the soldiers that came across his line of vision. It killed them instantly as it both forced them onto the ground at a fatal rate of acceleration and overpowered their minds to the point where it would cause hemorrhaging due to the overpowering force of the energy on the brain.

Once all the people were blasted back into the ground the tornado stopped. All of the things that it had brought up with it came crashing back down into the ground, except for Mode. Mode continued to float up, high in the sky. It could see all the dead bodies that it left in it’s wake. He could see more coming. He didn’t want more to come. Mode slammed itself into the ground, which did two things. The first was that it liquidated the ground, much like when there is an earthquake. The second was that it sent out a Telekinetic Pulse outwards that would just about disintegrate and/or slice anything it touched.

The dust settled and Mode climbed out of the crater that it created. It saw what hell it created. Countless dead bodies fused into the pavement with all kinds of body parts sticking out. Not to mention the fact that most of the houses that either collapsed in on themselves, had blown up, or had a big nasty hole going thru them due to that beam of energy. There was one good thing though, Mode couldn’t detect anymore living life forms in the area that were trying to kill Theodore anymore. So, with it’s job done, it started to fade away. Until it could hear what Theo was thinking, “Oh fuck.” Mode whispered into the air before dissipating into it.

Mode - Flight

---

And reappeared into a form of sky blue psychic energy. Taking a stance that looked like somewhere between being about to jump and starting to sprint. It jumped forwards and before it’s feet touched the ground, while in the air, the being materialized angel wing that protruded out of it's back and, what it would seem like to the human eye, flashed out of existence and then reappeared in Acton a few minutes later, just off in a little wooded area off the coast of the Santa Clara River, but not too far from the Vincent Grade/Acton Station either. And with that, Mode could finally fall back into unconsciousness.

Theodore Ashbrooks-Benn
Acton, CA

---

Getting up from the ground, the first thing Theo did was check all his pockets to make sure that things like his phone and wallet were on him and luckily they were, "Let's see, where the hell am I this time?" He asked to himself as he checked his phone's map. "Ok, let's see here. Ok so if I walk over to there and get on a train I can be at Union Station in about 2 and a half hours, great. Ok, let's start running." Theo ran, and he got there right on time. He quickly paid for his ticket, using cash, and hopped onto the train about a minute or so before it was scheduled to leave.

There were very few people onboard. But, that was ok. For now, Theo would just look at the view of the mountains and eventually to the city. He may just get a bit bored, as that's all he'll have to do for about 2 hours but after that, he's running straight to USC and UCLA to warn them.

[Futrellia]

Richard Block
Owl's Nest
August, 2043
6:13pm

---

Sitting at his chair, he took another bite of the double cheeseburger he got from Lil Woody's burger shop on his way to the Nest. He couldn't remember the last time he ate, and this meal was probably the best he's had in a long time. Eating healthy is difficult when he's busy fighting crime. He sat the burger down next to his Coca-Cola and large fries on a metallic tray pulled next to him. He picked up a napkin and wiped the grease from his hands and mouth, keeping his eyes glued to the 100 inch LCD screen above his keyboards, surrounded on three sides by smaller screens, each projecting different news agencies from different countries like the UK, Europe, Japan, China, Russia, and Africa. Multitasking was his specialty, and he was very good at it.

His eyes darted around security camera footage, traffic data, a map of Seattle marked with areas of recent crime reports, and of course, the news. The news at this time was bustling with word of a recent mutant attack at O'Hare International Airport in Chicago.

"Mutant Attack in process at O'Hare" was the label at the bottom, with a woman speaking on screen, a smaller screen showing news chopper footage of the Airport. He wasn't concerned with the situation going on 2,000 miles from him. He knew all of this action and CADMUS' crackdown would come to a head. He was more concerned with things going on here, right here at home. With that, he shut off the news channel, focusing on looking out for Syndicate operations across Washington.

"Ollie, any updates on the drones?" He said, picking up his burger to take another bite.

"Only one. Drone 17." Ollie said, bringing up pictures of Colville National Forest, park ranger rosters, trails, and more.

"Okay." He said through food.

"What did 17 find?"

"A very large drug factory located 15 miles east of Kettle Falls in Colville National Forest. Before the turf war in Seattle, they kept the location well hidden, bribing, blackmailing, or threatening local park rangers and state troopers regularly patrolling the area. After the Syndicate vacuum and subsequent return, high Syndicate activity was finally posted in the Washington State Patrol's databases by Trooper Kyle Gordon, a regular patrol officer at Colville. Less than three hours later, the information was removed by anonymous sources and Trooper Kyle Gordon has been reported missing from his patrol car on his route near Kettle Falls. The State Police dispatched officers with the Investigative Services Bureau to Kettle Falls three days ago. They have not reported back since. I would suggest investigating this Syndicate presence and eliminate if possible. Doing so will disrupt Syndicate operations across the entire state, instead of a single city."

"I say I'd have to agree with you, Ollie. Get the Jet ready, assault load-out." Richard said, wrapping the few bites left of the burger into the wrapper, gathering up the other and throwing them in the bag, where they'd meet the trash. He slipped on his suit and departed the Nest, shutting down and locking everything behind him.

Colville National Forest
10:04pm

---

"Arriving at the edge of Colville National Forest, the cover of night and the cloudy skies will help in masking us from eyes. Marking the location of the Syndicate activity." Said Ollie, bringing up multiple info on nearby Ranger stations, Trooper patrols, and potential locations of the ISB agents.

The IronJet abruptly turned, heading northeast towards the Canadian border. The trip took nearly 8 minutes to arrive to and they floated high enough that nobody would be able to see them. Zooming capabilities on the IronJet allowed him to see every location of the compound surrounded by thousands of acres and no marked roads even close by. Ollie marked important locations, such as the central large warehouse, a lookout tower 30 yards to the right of the warehouse, a potential barracks for workers and guards, and a smaller building where two guards were stationed at.

"Ollie, take pictures of every building and GPS information on where this is. Send it to the W.S.P and D.E.A. They can pick through the remains. Status on weaponry."

"All 22 Drones are operational and ready to deploy. Twin cannons are loaded with 1,350 rounds of 30mm ammunition, and four AGM-65 Maverick ASMs ready to launch." Ollie said, summing up everything the IronJet had equipped.

"Good god, AGM-65s? When did we get those? What happened to the LMMs?" He said, activating the X-ray capabilities of the IronJet to get a count of how many hostiles.

"During your comatose state, Pryce thought it necessary to upgrade the assault load-out of the IronJet. I did not attempt to stop him because of your previous request to give him unrestricted access to Iron Owl's armaments." Ollie said. Richard had successfully mapped the barracks, where 20 guards were located, the lookout tower, an additional two guards, worker tents, 20 counted, and the smaller, guarded building, where four people were chained to one of the walls.

"Yeah, I mean't just the suit, Ollie. I didn't--Look, I'm not arguing. Get ready to deploy the drones." He said, while locking onto the tower with one of the AGM-65 missiles.

"Talk about shock and awe." He said, pressing the red trigger. The missile whizzed out of it's holder, slanting downward and causing a massive explosion that obliterated the tower, slinging debris into the warehouse and the barracks. At that moment, the canopy opened, dropping the Iron Owl out of it. As he descended down, his jumpjets activated, slowing his descent enough to make a successful landing. One by one, dazed and confused guards came pouring out of the barracks, which had caught fire in some areas, their G-36C rifles firing off in random directions as they tried to wake up. The IronJet deployed it's drones from the top of it's wings. As they descended down, they opened fire on the gunmen, causing further panic and mayhem as bodies began to drop.

Landing next to the warehouse, he turned to see the guards of the smaller building aim and fire at him. Moving to try to avoid as many bullets as possible, he dashed to the side, using his cape for a shield and running behind the building, making it past the guards. As they split up to investigate both sides, Owl quietly jumped to the roof, taking off two gas grenades and tossing them down the sides, exploding with a powerful green gas that would knock the men out, and leave them out until authorities could get there to clean up the mess. They would be the WSP and DEA's prisoners, courtesy of Iron Owl. He jumped down to the front door as the Syndicate guards and drones continued fighting it out, some taking over inside the warehouse, while others attempted to flee into the forest, Owldrones hot on their tails. He grabbed the door's steel bar for a handle and ripped it out, forcing the door to bend and eventually snap out of it's hinges. Owl walked in the dimly lit tiny room to see Trooper Gordon and the three missing ISB agents, all still wearing their uniforms, visibly beaten and bloodied.

"Your friends are looking for you." Owl said, using his masked voice.

"Who the fuck are you?" Replied Trooper Gordon, snagging and pulling at his chains.

"A friend. I would suggest you all wait in here. The WSP and DEA have been notified of this location. They'll be here within a few hours, I'm sure." Owl said as he used his gauntlet blades to break the chains, allowing them to be free. His moment of heroics was interrupted by the sound of trucks pulling up and heavy gunfire. He turned to look out one of the windows, seeing three older model Dodge Ram trucks pulling up, Syndicate soldiers dressed in black combat gear, each truck with a CS5200 lightweight gun turret attached, opening fire in a flurry of bullets at the drones, nailing quite a few of them in a row.

"Looks like the cavalry. Stay here." He said to the police.

"Screw that, I'm-"

"I didn't come out here to watch you all die trying to be heroic. Stay Here." He said once again, this time with a deeper tone to his voice, showing them he mean't business.

He exited the building and darted towards the warehouse, where on the inside he could see at least a dozen individual meth labs present, with tons of crates full of different materials, most likely the drugs.

"Light 'em up, Ollie." A few seconds after he said it, the IronJet came thundering in, making a perfect strafing line as the twin cannons unleashed on the drugs, the bullets piercing every nook and cranny of the trucks, causing them to ignite and eventually explode, scattering the heavier armed troops. Iron Owl made his presence known immediately as he jumped out from the side of the warehouse, tackling one of the few guards left standing, smashing his face into the cold, soft ground, looking up to see a few of the soldiers firing away at the remaining drones. He rose up and dispatched three explosive grenades and rocked the entire area in a blanket of red and orange light. As the fighting began to subside, the remaining 10 drones secured the area, scanning the area within a 2 mile radius for any that escaped. Owl panned around to see the bonfires he created from using the missile and strafing run. It looked like a warzone as dead bodies littered the ground. The little tent city established by the workers was all but burned away, necessary collateral damage. His head darted to the left as he saw one of the soldiers try to crawl away from the field, his leg bleeding badly. Three drones hovered above him, their 5.56x45mm guns trained on him, ready to fire. Owl approached him, lifting him with one hand and tossing him closer to the center of the compound to interrogate him.

"I don't discriminate targets. You chose the wrong side and thought I would keep to the little abode of Seattle. You really think after the Syndicate's failed plot to kill me, I'd learn my lesson? First Chez, now this drug compound. Maybe the Syndicate should think about abandoning Washington. No, no, you are all too proud to do something like that."

The man continued to try to crawl away, groaning and grunting as he cursed out at Iron Owl, Owl just casually walking closely behind him. The soldier flipped over quickly to reveal him aiming a Glock 43 right at Owl. Owl used quick, lightning fast reflexes to duck down and pounce forward, grabbing the gun and smashing the soldier's face, forcing him to let go. Owl threw the gun and grabbed his throat, gripping so tightly, he heard the soldier's throat begin to faulter under the pressure.

"You're gonna be arrested. And you will tell them everything you know. You will tell them every Syndicate operation, every person in that organization you know of, or so help me god, I'll make your life a living hell. Don't believe me? Disobey me and find out." He said, slamming the soldier's neck down, causing him to black out. Owl rose up to see the four officers watching in shock at what he did to the man and the Syndicate trucks.

He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. They had already made their minds up. He was either a criminal with a taste for blood or a hero willing to do whatever it takes to clean up crime. He would find out that answer in a few days after the WSP investigates this compound. He rose from the ground and ascended back into the IronJet, it's thrusters burning hot as it darted out of the area, back to the Owl's Nest.

"Any strange anomalies logged during that fight?" Owl said.

"Just one, a strange thermal reading and black shadows towards the north section of the treeline. It arrived two minutes after the battle had begun and departed when you did. I cannot trace where it went." Ollie said.

"Looks like it'll take more than that to draw that freak out. Let's call it a night." Owl said.

[The Cyberiad Council]

The Chicago Incident
Part 3

• Jason Blackwood a.k.a “Skullduggery”
• Joseph Lero, a.k.a “Stardust Man”
• Stephanie Edgemoor a.k.a “Valkyrie”
• Garrick Alban, a.k.a “Zaroff”
• Annette Bareau, a.k.a “Pixie”
• Jacob Peters
• Cypher
• Lance Tunrer, a.k.a “Corpus”
• Garret Wolman a.k.a “Wolfenstein”
• Shard

Cypher listened to the sounds of the guards moving around the containment area. He could hear their footfalls and heartbeats, and the echoes that they made. He recreated the area in his mind, mapping it all out. There were a lot of guards, at least forty CADMUS agents. He only had 60 rounds on him, thirty loaded, 15 in each gun, but he had used six already. It wasn’t much; he relied on tactical plays, not shows of brute force.

He waited a second longer, then he stepped out from around the corner. He raised his guns and fired both. Their trajectory was perfectly calculated; they flew through the necks of multiple guards. They entered and exited, just nicking the jugular vein. Five guards fell with two shots. He moved through the open area, and the agents moved to engage. Re-holstering the pistols, he threw a weighted disk that connected with the forehead of another agent, and another bladed one that impacted the control panel of the containment cell.

Cypher ducked behind a car for cover as the guards opened fire. “I could use a hand out here!” He yelled to the super in the cell as the door opened.

---

Joseph stepped out of his cell, seeing Cypher ducked behind a car for cover. The guards who originally shot at Cypher had their bullets fly at Joseph, which impacted him like dust, splitting into many pieces the size of a sand grain. He quickly spotted the guards who fired at him, and ran right at them, jumping over the car Cypher was hiding behind. He leaped up into the air, and disappeared then instantly reappeared right behind the guards. Joseph punched the guards in the back of their heads with their own weapons.

“Well thats that, pretty sure more are on their way, and who are you exactly?”

“Do you want to get out of here? Cypher stood up and downed another three guards that came into the room.

“You betcha.”

“Then I’m your rescue party. Follow me.” He took off without looking back, but he put his hand on his hand and stumbled slightly. “We don’t have long.”

“Aye,” Joseph spoke, quickly following Cypher.

---

Almost as soon as Turner drove the bone into the woman’s heart, shadows enveloped Jason. From this dark cloud emerged Skullduggery, his suit as clean and pressed as ever. He clicked his fingers together, catching the spark as soon as it emerged. Letting the flame expand into a fireball, he hurled it at a nearby gaggle of TSA agents struggling to pull their weapons from their holsters. The ball detonated on contact with one of the men, engulfing him and those around him in elemental flame. Moving, he gracefully stepped up to another agent, driving a fist into his gut before whirling and cracking his elbow into the man’s temple, watching him crumple.

“This was not part of the plan.” Spat Skullduggery, motioning to Corpus as he broke into a run. CADMUS agents were sure to be around, and Skullduggery followed the sounds of gunshots as their sharp report broke the melody of screams and shouts of fleeing pedestrians. Summoning another spark with a snap of his fingers, Skullduggery spotted several CADMUS agents fall to well placed gunshots. That was odd, indeed, and probably not a good sign. An unmarked door with several CADMUS corpses littered around it was all the information that he needed. Reeling the fiery projectile into the door, Skullduggery watched as it screeched past two individuals who were fleeing from the room inside and exploded with a cacophonous boom. Were Skullduggery to have ears, they would probably be bleeding at the moment.

“We need to move!” He shouted at Corpus, who was absorbed in his own killing spree, continuing his sprint.

---

Joseph noticed the fireball fly right past him, he quickly grabbed Cypher and ran into a maintenance room, crashing down onto the floor. The explosion sent a shockwave throughout the building, luckily the room protected them somewhat from the blast. Joseph got back up, coughing a bit as there was dust floating everywhere from the explosion. Stepping outside the maintenance room, he found a massive hole in the terminal building.

“Hold on one second.” Cypher pulled a small flash drive from his pocket and opened a panel on the wall. He plugged it into a usb port and turned to leave. “That will worm its way into the airport’s systems and delete any surveillance footage it finds.” He turned and struggled to the door and followed his new associate.

“We just survived a fricking explosion,” said Joseph, coughing a bit. “Lets put it at a massive one at that.”

---

Corpus followed Skullduggery with his swords in hand. He overtook the magical skeleton as they hurried to the exit, using his powers to help pull him along with the bones in his hands. A group of CADMUS soldiers rounded a corner dead ahead. There were about five in the little squad, but Corpus charged in. He took two shots to the chest before he could reach them, but he didn’t slow in the slightest. He turned into a whirl of blows, slicing and ducking under fire. The first guard was dealt a slash across the chest followed by a downswing of the left blade that left the man disemboweled. Pivoting clockwise, he brought the right sword into the face of the next soldier, pulling the man down, he parried a thrust of another guard with the left blade. Corpus kicked the man back and threw the two blades at the remaining two agents. He refocused his attention at the man he kicked. He focused on the man’s knee which made a loud snapping sound as it broke bringing the man down so his head was at stomach-level. Corpus made the man lift his arms with his powers, and tore out both of the man's ulnas, turning them into razor edges before bringing them together to remove the man’s head. Corpus turned the torso around and extracted the right humerus and scapula, fusing them into an axe like form that he used to dispose of the remaining guards that were still trying to recover from the impalement with two swift blows to the head.

In a matter of two seconds, the five agents were lying in pieces on the ground. When Skullduggery caught up, Corpus was standing with his new bone-axe in his hand as the bodies started to evaporate, turning into a mist that flowed into the bullet wounds, healing them. “I like this plan better.”

[Arkeyana]

The Wraith emerged from a portal and again shifted back into Drake. "beaten to the punch?", Sammy asked, looking from the computer she was monitoring." yes, I swear I will break Iron Owls toys if he doesn't stop". "C'mon, don't be so mean". she chuckled, getting up, "so, you want to reconsider training me, I have way more flexibility". Sighing, Drake agreed.

later...


"HA! TRY TO GET ME NOW!!!" Archangel yelled as she floated in the air. Chuckling, Wraith said "cheater" as a chain flung out from the darkness and slammed her to the ground. Before she could get up, she found a scythe leveled at her neck. "First rule, don't get cocky". Wraith said, turning back into Drake. Getting to her feet, Archangel said "Oh yeah, I did some hacking and found a underground drug boss is making a deal on the other side of the city." "Heh, I'll go deal with it". Drake said, turning into Wraith and going through a portal. Leaving Archangel alone as she turned back into Sammy.

[The Cyberiad Council]

The Chicago Incident
Part 4

• Jason Blackwood a.k.a “Skullduggery”
• Joseph Lero, a.k.a “Stardust Man”
• Stephanie Edgemoor a.k.a “Valkyrie”
• Garrick Alban, a.k.a “Zaroff”
• Annette Bareau, a.k.a “Pixie”
• Jacob Peters
• Cypher
• Lance Tunrer, a.k.a “Corpus”
• Garret Wolman a.k.a “Wolfenstein”
• Shard

Garret Wolman/Wolfenstein
Garret chased after the girl, past the panicked crowds who were being evacuated. He just about caught up to her when a massive explosion sent them to the ground. He had seen it coming, but didn’t see a way to avoid it-- it wasn’t coming from them-- and thus simply dove to the ground when it erupted. The girl ran into one of the shops and he quickly followed, leaping over a counter and barreling through the door to the back. It led to a storeroom, and then a hallway, Where he finally caught up to her.

Garret grabbed the backpack and ripped it off of her, and she spun around and kicked him in the head, then landed on her feet. Garret looked up in disbelief as she ran forward, against the wall, and kicked off to try and strike him again. He stepped back and punched her in the face, sending her to the ground, where she spun and stood again. She was like him-- perfect reflexes, perfect balance, maximum agility.

So the fight ensued. Punch, push, kick, dodge, block, and so on. An onlooker would have thought they were moving lightning fast-- and they were.

---

Jacob coughed as he struggled to push the rubble off of his chest. The effort caused him to wince as a sharp pain shot through his side. Looking down, he saw a small patch of blood mixing with the dust that now coated his shirt. Blinking, Jacob looked around to try and get a sense of his surroundings. Almost immediately he had to repress a gag instinct at the sight of the charred corpses that littered the ruined room. Parts of the wall had collapsed, and one of them had ended up burying Jacob - although it looked as if that had been exactly what had saved him. Alarms blared incessantly from the speakers, a calm female voice instructing everyone to evacuate the airport - or at least what was left of it - in an orderly fashion. Jacob could hardly decipher her words with the ringing in his ears.

Gritting his teeth, the CADMUS scientist limped towards a still-functioning control panel. The screen was flickering and was cracked by flying debris, although it would suit his needs. Flicking through the menu screens, he planted his hand on the panel and waited for his biometrics to be read.

“Professor Jacob Peters, welcome to O’Hare Inter - International Air-p-p-port. How may I be of service?” The computerised voice jumped and started, getting stuck on syllables as it tried to run through its program.

“Tell me what’s happening. What is the source of the alarms?”

“This facility is currently experiencing a terrorist attack. All civilians and non-security personnel are instructed to leave the premises and wait for the proper authorities to arrive.”

An attack? Jacob’s eyes widened. Had Vanguard become so bold that they would attack one of the busiest airports in the continent? He felt a sinking feeling in his chest.

“What are the casualties?”

“Unknown at the present time. Please Professor, protocol dictates that you must leave the premises.” The screen changed to show him a route to the closest exit. Feeling the pain once again tear into his side, Jacob made a mental note of the safe route but froze before he made for the exit. His eyes widening, he desperately glanced around at the corpses that littered the floor.

“Annette!” He shouted into the room, his voice competing against the still-blaring alarms. “Annette, where are you?!”

---

Annette’s sweater lay discarded on the ground as her footsteps echoed down the empty terminal. The travelators all remained motionless as she raced down the long hallways, the sight of the pristine airport now seemingly abandoned was almost eerie. The alarms still wailed in the distance, but thankfully they no longer rattled around inside her skull like an irritating pest.

Pausing at the end of the hall, Annette was faced with a junction. She glanced down the different corridors, her antennae - now out in the open after she had thrown aside her hat along with her sweater - twitched as they tasted the air. The girl’s grin widened, the scent of blood promising her an exciting day. Without hesitating for a moment longer, Annette bolted towards the staircase that lead to the concourse, her wings buzzing into life as she propelled herself up to the higher floors. Landing deftly, Annette continued racing towards the chaos that had consumed O’Hare. It didn’t take long for the sounds of a struggle to reach her.

Skidding around the last corner, Annette arrived just in time to see the last CADMUS agent’s headless corpse flop lifeless onto the floor. Coming to a halt, her chest was rising and falling after her sprint to the fight but an eager grin was spread wide across Annette’s features. She looked over the pair of mutants, tilting her head to the side with a quizzical expression. One of them wielded a pair of pale white axes in his hands while the other was a skeleton dressed in a neatly pressed suit and tie.

“Hi!” She began, trying to grab the attention of the assailants. When they turned to look in the direction of the youthful voice, she felt a stab of slight embarrassment. Offering the pair a wave, Annette continued sheepishly. “Sorry for intruding. I just wanted to make sure: you are the two baddies that killed all of the people, right?” Annette gestured towards the dismembered and singed corpses that now dotted the concourse.

---

Skullduggery looked up from the carnage that Corpus had caused as someone spoke. The girl was young, far too young to be wearing CADMUS fatigues. She had an aloof look on her face, and almost looked more curious than angry, even as she stared at Skullduggery and Corpus, her purported “enemy”.

“Well, dear,” Skullduggery began, holding his hands out wide in an innocent pose, “I think the term ‘baddie’ is relative. Me and my associates here aren’t bad people. We’ve been put in an...unfortunate circumstance.”

Annette’s eyes narrowed as the skeleton spoke to her, a confused look flashing across her face. She was mesmerised by the motions of the skinless face, enraptured as the jaw moved without the aid of brain or muscle. Glancing around at the bloodied corpses, many of them not wearing the uniform of either the TSA or CADMUS, Annette offered the skeleton a skeptical look.

“I don’t know. You don’t look like a good guy to me. Plus mutants out in public are always meant to be baddies unless you work for CADMUS.”

If Skullduggery could smile, he would have. He slowly walked towards the girl, stopping several feet away, his hands still spread and at his sides.

“What’s your name, miss?” He asked, looking at her. Despite the fact that his eye sockets were empty, and his face was perpetually stuck in the angry appearance that skulls tend to have, he gave off as much of a friendly aura as he could. The closer he got to her, the more his bones tingled. She was magical, and powerfully so. If his senses didn’t give it away, the pair of wings protruding from her back did.

“Weren't you the one in a hurry to get out of here Bones?” Corpus called from the circle of bodies, His blood soaked hands were quickly drying from the use of his powers.

“This young lady seems a bit lost, Mr. Turner, and I want to help her find her way.” Skullduggery replied, never taking his eyes off of the winged girl. What neither of them were aware of, however, was that Skullduggery was slowly twisting the air currents in the room around his fingers. If either of them tried anything, well, they were in the Windy City after all.

Annette watched as the blood on Corpus’ hands boiled away, healing the few gunshot wounds that still peppered his body. Folding her arms across her chest, Annette smirked at the pair. She was pretty sure by this point that these were definitely the bad guys causing all the trouble.

“Oh, my name’s Annette - but I’m trying to get Pixie to catch on. And your name is Bones?”

She could feel the insects of the airport converging on the concourse, having called on them as she had run through the halls. Corpus or Skullduggery may have noticed lines of ants beginning to crawl along the walls and floor of the room, but Annette didn’t make any overt moves of aggression quite yet.

Corpus cocked his head to side as if he was listening to something. “Skullduggery. Forget the girl! We have bodies inbound, ones of the living variety.”

“I have it handled,” Skullduggery said, continuing to gather up as much wind between his fingers as he could, letting the currents twist and turn through his extremities. He sighed, focusing the air at the end of his fingertips. The air in the concourse had become exceptionally stale, as he quietly redirected much of the airflow to him.

“Well, Pixie, this entire time we’ve been talking, you’ve been casting a spell,” He said, now walking in a circle. Transferring the air from his right hand into the flows on his left, he clicked his fingers together, catching the spark and letting it grow into a fireball. “I’m sensitive to magic. I can feel its ebb and flow. You have incredible power, Pixie. I suggest you examine what you know about the world. Try to question your ‘friends’ in CADMUS. And if they lock you up again and try to experiment on you, as I’m sure they have, remember my face...or what’s left of it.”

With that, Skullduggery shot his left arm out and splayed his fingers. The incredible amount of air he had been collecting shot forward in a tight spiral towards the girl, blowing her back with hurricane force. As he did that, Skullduggery threw the fireball on the ground in front of him. Instead of exploding, however, the flames spread from wall to wall on the concourse, creating a barrier between him and Pixie.

“I would say that now is a good time to leave.” He said, nodding, before turning on his heel and running past Corpus.

Corpus let out what could best be described as a maniacal laugh as he ran after the pyro.

---

Before Annette could even open her mouth to respond, the spiral of air slammed into her chest. Immediately, she was winded as she was catapulted backwards across the concourse by the surprise attack. A shot of pain shot up her back as she impact the floor, eventually skidding to a halt as she slid into a wall. Pulling herself back up, she watched as Skullduggery summoned his wall of flames. Once again a smirk spread itself across her features as her expression hardened with determination.

As Skullduggery approached the exit, the pair of double doors were suddenly blown open. A dark swarm of flies and mosquitoes surged into the concourse and plowed into the pair of mutants with the unexpected force of a million tiny bodies all acting in concert. Annette was meanwhile back up on her feet and racing towards the wall of flames that now divided the room. Leaping into the air, she flew over the barrier towards the mutants. Without hesitating, she allowed her momentum to carry forward into her fist as she slammed forward towards Corpus.

Corpus who was already stunned from the bugs was taken completely aback by the punch in the gut. He was knocked back with surprising force from such a small frame. He was out of breath, and the swarming insects were annoying beyond belief. “Bones, torch them or something!”

Corpus lay there for a second. His sixth rib was cracked. He stood up with a huff as he healed it. Looking through the swarm, he spotted Annette. He opened his hand, and the bone-axe flew into it. “Come here you insolent insect!” He charged Annette with a hunger in his eyes.

Expecting the wild swing, the girl stepped effortlessly to the side. Giggling, Annette watched in amusement as her bugs continued to irritate Corpus, with one or two occasionally attempting and annoying bite or prick. The swarm was concentrated on his face, working to obscure his vision and help Annette avoid his attacks, although they were proving to be little more than an annoyance.

“Missed me!” Annette declared happily, already finding herself enjoying the fight. Swinging herself around, she made to launch into Corpus with a solid kick.

“She’s a girl, Corpus. Just say mean things to her. She’ll run home.” Skullduggery said, letting the insects crawl all over him. Having no flesh was a perk sometimes. Concentrating intensely, he brought his hands together and twisted them to form a symbol. As he focused, air began to twist and malform the swarm of bugs in front of him. Certain parts of the amalgamation found their flight path interrupted, and swaths of empty space began to appear as currents of air carved their way through the bugs. Skullduggery’s bones strained with effort, and he struggled against the sheer mass of the object he was moving. Eventually, the currents of air combined, and the insects were pushed to either side of the double doors by walls of wind. Though some spilled out from the edges of Skullduggery’s barrier, many simply buzzed around in confusion as they were forced back from the now relatively clear exit.

“Corpus, either try and kill her, or run. This isn’t holding forever.” Skullduggery, his voice shaking, the immense effort showing. Deep black veins started to run up and down his entire skeleton, spreading as the powerful magic kept their escape route clear.

Corpus called back to his ally “Working on it!” He swung a few more times, but Annette outmaneuvered him by a landslide. Then Annette made an error, a small one, but a critical one nonetheless. Corpus threw the axe at the airborne girl who gracefully dodged it.

Annette was having fun playing with the bone-wielding mutant, and she grinned as he tossed aside one of his weapons in the midst of the fray. As she darted and weaved through the air, her eyes fell upon a gun lying beside one of the CADMUS corpses. However, before she could propel herself towards it and scratch one of her targets off of her list, a sudden wave of nausea washed over her skull. Appearing to stumble in the air, Annette’s earlier grace became slow and sluggish as the world seemed to spin around her. Confused, the girl looked back towards Skullduggery and her eyes widened at the sight of her swarm being forced aside.

“What are you doing?” She called out in horror. “Leave them alone!” Annette could acutely feel the disorientation and unease of her insects. As the air shifted and churned unnaturally around them, convulsing in ways that it shouldn’t and upsetting their every motion, the insects’ rudimentary intelligence was thrown into a chaotic panic. Unprepared for the emotions coursing through the mental link between her and the swarm, and determined to help her flying allies, Annette turned her attention to Skullduggery.

Corpus smiled, recognizing the opportunity. He clenched his fist and the axe flew back towards Annette. He could have done damage, but she was still a kid; the axe molded into a horseshoe shape just wider than her torso. It flew towards the floor, and caught her in its path. Using all of his biokinetic strength, Corpus slammed Annette to the ground, the bone puncturing the floor on either side of her, and curving around her back to prevent escape.

Wasting no time he ran past skullduggery, “Let's move calcium man.”

---

.
Garret Wolman/Wolfenstein
The girl was good-- really good-- but she couldn’t see the future. Garret was a step ahead of her the whole time they fought, eventually striking her with his right fist, grappling her head with his left arm, and snapping her neck. Hyperkinesis or no, she was dead. He grabbed the backpack off of the ground, the weight of 10 million dollars weighing it down, and threw it over his shoulder.

Around the corner, down the hall, two men rounded the corner and faced Garret. Instinctively, Garret pulled his Luger from his shoulder holster and fired, the bullet aimed directly for the struggling man’s head.

---

Stardust Man helped Cypher away from the blast zone, and into the area used mostly by pilots and flight crew. They needed to get out before the CADMUS squads caught up with them. Cypher was counting down the time he had left before he blacked out from using his powers, and they didn’t have long. When they turned a corner, they saw Wolfenstein snap the girl’s neck and collect the backpack. Cypher began trying to match the face with a name. He had hacked into most government registries in the United states, and memorized millions of faces. He found military and teaching personnel records for the face. The man had been missing for years, and was connected to multiple attacks.

Joseph saw the man break the girl’s neck, “What kind of sick man is he?”

“One who is about to fire.” Cypher saw the muscles in his arm flex indicating a motion for the gun. Cypher drew one of his own and began to bring it to bear just after the man. He ran the calculations in his head, it was impossible to take him out before he fired, so the next solution was to stop the bullet. Cypher could the see all the measurements traced out like some sort of HUD, he altered his aim slightly and fired a few nanoseconds after the other man. The bullets collided in mid air, and ricocheted off the walls, having shattered on the impact. The man didn’t even pause to fire the shot, and left the scene “We need to keep moving.” Cypher took a few more steps before clutching his head and collapsing.

Joseph saw the bullets ricochet, at least hear the sound of them hitting, Dang this guy must be a good shot with guns he thought to himself. He continued to help Cypher move along through the airport, but him collapsing all of a sudden, to Joseph, meant that something wasn’t right with Cypher.

---

Garret ran back through the storeroom and shop, knocking over a magazine stand as he ran. This was bad- there were no people for him to blend in with, no places to hide where security cameras wouldn’t see him. Rounding a corner, he came to a stop as six men in what could best be described as SWAT gear were coming down the hall. He instantly put his arms up in the air as they shouted at him, and got down on his knees as they directed him to do.

“It’s okay! I’m Chicago PD, I’m here to help!” Garret said, cursing at himself for not using his foresight. He should really be using it all the time, so the fact that he wasn’t was unprofessional at least and incompetent at worst. The soldiers didn’t care about his badge, however, and continued to approach.

Whatever the case, he was using it now, and as the six armed men approached with guns raised, Garret bided his time. The six formed a semicircle around Garret, and he waited for the one furthest to the right to approach. As the soldier grabbed Garret’s wrist, Garret sprung into action, grabbing the soldier’s wrist and twisting his-- and the soldiers-- arms around. The soldiers arm snapped as the shoulder and elbow were disjointed and the wrist broken, all of which happened in a single motion as Garret shifted behind the soldier. He grabbed the soldier’s pistol off of his waist and fired five shots, using the soldier as a human shield. Each of the CADMUS soldiers received a bullet in the eye, dropping them down. The sixth soldier was still yelling in pain as Garret pushed him toward a nearby newsstand.

Upon arriving, Garret snapped the man’s neck and began removing the soldier’s outer clothing and armor. Donning it, he exited the newsstand, grabbed one of the dead soldier’s rifles off of the ground, and began jogging toward the terminal’s exit.

[Futrellia]

Iron Owl
En-Route Back to Seattle
8 Miles North of Pateros

---

The trip back was a quiet one. Owl rested his eyes for the first ten minutes of the flight. The Jet could have easily cut the time back to ten minutes, but Richard decided to enjoy the ride home. He had just destroyed the Syndicate's largest property in Washington, as well as gave the Washington State Police valuable intel and the Drug Enforcement Agency a huge win. Both would claim a coordinated raid took place to give them all the credit. He didn't care about the fame, only the results.

"Excuse me, sir. I believe I have found something you'd be interested in." The VI turned the bright screen on in front of him, forcing Owl's eyes to re-adjust to the light. On the screen was what appeared to be a normal warehouse. A generic tin building used for the storage of supplies, or excess equipment. The image was blurry in some areas, and layered with static in others.

"What am I lookin' at, Ollie, I can't read your mind." he said, desperately trying to locate anything in the picture Ollie found of value.

"Magnifying, times 6." The image zoomed in, and using Ollie's clarification tools for footage like this, he found something that nearly widened his eyes. The black essence of a paranormal shadow in the process of dissipating while entering in through a dark doorway, what was inside, Ollie couldn't find out.

"This image was captured from a Security Station on the eastern side of the Port of Seattle. I have been collecting and analyzing every film from security cameras in Seattle. It has been incredibly tedious, but I believe this is a lead worth investigating." Ollie said, the image stuck on the screen of the fading shadow.

"What Warehouse is this?"

"Warehouse 3PL, owned by the Port Logistics Group, but labeled as due for demolition six years ago."

"I'm redirecting. How many drones do we have on standby in the Nest?"

"Seven, sir, with six under repair."

"Deploy them for the Port. Neutralize any Port security and whoever else may pose a problem."

"Of course, sir. Deploying now."

The IronJet's boosters flared to life in a display of red and orange light, boosting up from the cruising speed it was currently enjoying.

8 Minutes Later
Port of Seattle

The IronJet slowed it's speed and began to hover very low.

"Ollie, jam all communications within a 2 mile radius, put recycled camera footage on all security cameras." Owl said, getting ready to depart the Owl. On the ground, he could see the 7 drones, hovering out of view of the suspected Warehouse. The Jet's Friend/Foe system targeted the downed Security personnel in red, showing vital signs and heart rate. 12 officers, 8 patrolling and 4 in the Security Station, all neutralized with sleeper darts. They'd be out for a while. The IronJet moved downwards, as far down as the stacks of shipping containers would allow. The cockpit folded open, allowing Owl to drop down into one of the open roads between the containers.

"Ollie, keep the Jet back. I don't need to spook whoever's in there." He said. Ollie, compliant as ever, backed the Jet away slowly, masking a majority of it's sound by deactivating the engines and relying on air thrusters alone. Owl continued walking quickly through the road, keeping his body pressed against the side of the containers. He activated the Tactical HUD on his helmet, registering all ammunition, suit integrity, a red coating of the warehouse to show him where he needed to go, and a map layout of the Port, courtesy of the IronJet's sensor arrays. He turned a corner to see the Warehouse, dark as ever. The drones had positioned themselves around the Warehouse, scanning for any targets. As there were no windows and movement, they'd only be able to detect someone if they could get inside, obviously.

Iron Owl scanned the building, looking for anywhere he could find that would allow him to get inside. The Drone cams sent data to his helmet, and an access route appeared. A four paned window behind the building, facing towards the water. That was his only way in. Walking through the front door was a surefire way to get killed if it knew he was onto it. Quietly, Owl darted across the containers and made his way towards the back. Once he had reached it, he saw the window up towards the top of the roof. No big deal.

He used his grappling hook to ascend to the window, and peered through it. Nothing but electrical wiring and the top portion of a roof that spanned the entire warehouse. Typical storage warehouses didn't bother with roofs inside of a warehouse if they were storing items. This was in no way a typical warehouse. Carefully and quietly, Owl activated a small laser and began at the top right corner of one of the window panes. He activated it and it began to cut through the glass. Luckily it was plate glass, meaning it wouldn't burst into a million tiny pieces like safety glass would in most buildings across the city if it were punctured like this. He continued cutting the four corners out until he was able to rattle the cut off piece and allowed it to fall from the window onto the ground below. Crawling through, Owl stepped easily onto the roof. Reaching down, he removed one of the roof panels and revealed bright lights on the inside of what seemed to be a hallway. Making a leap of faith, he jumped down through the hole to see a long zig-zag hallway, spotting no one, he chose a direction and followed it. Behind him, the drones followed one by one through the hole, keeping close to Iron Owl. They would be used as an extra incentive for whoever this thing was to not fight him. He continued on until he reached a large steel double door.

"Sir, I've encountered a problem. The security cameras inside the warehouse, I can't hack into them. The coding is very complex and modulates every seconds, refreshing the set of codes, forcing me to restart. If you see a camera, it already knows you are there." He reached the door just in time to stop and look up. There he saw one of the older model cameras, staring directly at him.

"Shit."

[Arkeyana]

Archangel knew he was there.

The cameras picked him up, so the Iron Owl obviously didn't try to hack in. (so who tried to hack in?) she thought as she fabricated a hefty looking gun. She walked up to the door and said "I have a Gauss cannon on me, so if you don't want to have what's left of ya on the other side of Washington, disarm yourself, then I'll disarm myself, and we can talk about this civilly".

meanwhile..

"OH PLEASE N- AGH" The guards dropped dead with one swing of the Wraith's scythe, a few others converged on him, but chains whipped out of the darkness and crushed them. He then sliced through the maximum security door and advanced towards the boss, who was cowering in fear. "Sir... I have come to reap your soul". Wraith said. His scythe then shifted into a spear and he stabbed him through the heart. Shadows then sprung to life and converged upon the corpse, tearing and pulverizing it before returning to their places. He then flew up to the roof to let his powers recharge.+

[Futrellia]

Iron Owl
Warehouse 3PL
2043

---

He was surprised to hear a woman's voice addressing him from the other side of the security doors. He turned his head to see his drones hovering behind, waiting for orders. He could deploy his drones into the room and open fire. They would distract her enough to skirt around her and take the advantage, disarm her or kill her altogether. If the drones didn't pan out and Iron Owl was set to be blown away by a Gauss cannon, the IronJet would fire away. He decided to take a breather and think. Killing her wouldn't solve anything, and she did suggest a peaceful resolution. Owl wanted to find the reaper, not kill him. They both targeted Syndicate locations and people, something that Iron Owl couldn't shake. Owl wasn't inclined to work with anyone for very long, but would set aside his preferences for a combined assault against them.

Slowly, Owl opened up one of the doors, and saw the young woman holding quite an intimidating weapon. Behind her, he saw the command center armed with screens, sensors, and other variations of tech that impressed him. The drones stayed hovering above Owl, their cannons pointed right at the woman, ready to fire.

"Sir, missiles and cannons are ready above your location. Give me the signal and retreat to the hallway. I will take care of the rest." Said Ollie. Owl ignored him, wanting to instead try the diplomatic approach, first. He was quite rusty when it came to diplomacy, but he figured he needed the practice.

"Most of my weapons are on my belt here. By the time I reach for one, I'd already be dust. I'm looking for someone, a shadowy figure. Moves like the grim reaper, has a scythe?" Owl said, keeping his hands level with his shoulders.

[Arkeyana]

Archangel's heartbeat nearly stopped when she heard almost a perfect description of The Wraith. (What does he want with Drake) she thought, she then said "Yes, him and I are working to take down crime in this city, what do you want with him?"

meanwhile...

The Wraith was sitting on the shore of a pond in a park. He heard a small gasp and turned to see a little girl staring at him. "Are you an angel?" she asked. "I wish I was" Wraith replied. The girl sat down next to him and asked "Then why do you glow?" the moonlight was giving him a silvery glow. "It's a side effect of my powers, speaking of which, I need to go". He then opened a portal and steeped through it...

and emerged right behind Iron Owl.

[Talchyon]

A Convenience Store
Los Angeles, California
The Vanguard Extraction Team, Richard Weinkauf (aka "The Artisan"), and Theo Ashbrooks-Benn

After hours of driving, Quill, who had been driving, said, "We need gas. There's a station coming up. We can stretch our legs, too." The last few hours had been very interesting to Richard. They were full of not only the stories of this underground organization that the local Pravda or government-sponsored media demonized, but also there were stories of the hopes and dreams of each of them, each wanting freedom in a sense. Richard was humbly impressed and even inspired. He even began thinking of future art pieces he might do based on the general themes they had raised.

The gas station was a medium-sized one, complete with semi truck service and an attached country dinner. Richard got out of the car and headed to the restroom. Getting older is not the best condition for taking long trips. For the last couple of years, Richard had found himself needing to make more frequent restroom stops than he used to.

Going through the aisles of the convenience store to get to the restroom, he passed a young man, and offered a polite "Excuse me," as he headed toward the restroom.

Theo moved out of the way so the man could get through, “No problem sir." Theo was about to walk back out the door when he could feel a grumble in his stomach, to which he realized that he hadn't eaten since lunch at school. So he grabbed some random junk from the aisles of the store, namely a bag or two of chips, some candy, and an energy drink, "Great dinner I have here." He muttered under his breath.

Quill and Paladin followed Richard into the store while Arsenal stayed out to pump the gas: he could[/i] Convence[/i] the pumps to work without using a credit card.

Quill walked up with an armful of junk food and tossed it haphazardly on the counter before fishing around his pocket for his wallet. The attendant looked up from his magazine and looked at the pile of food with a bored frown on his face. When Paladin walked up carrying a pack of beer, the clerk's eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly. By then Quill had found his wallet and presented the cash. He looked at the clerk's face and said, "Oh come on dude, it's not that much." "Uhhh, yeah... er, I mean... yeah that will cover it." He took the money in a slight daze and started working the register. Quill leaned back and whispered to Paladin, "Poor kid, probably his first day on the job." Paladin gave a nod of understanding.

After Theo grabbed everything he walked over the line and stood behind two people who had amassed quite a large amount of goods, "Must be going on a road trip." Theo thought.

Theo put his hand in his pocket and tried to see if his powers had come back just enough for him to generate money as he couldn't use any of this cards as that would give away his position if the government wanted to find him, and with what Mode did he knew that the government would want to find him and he used most of the cash on him to get him on that train. For the most part, it worked, a little bit. He made a good chunk of cash that could definitely pay off the junk he was getting now.

He looked passed the two men in front of him and saw that the cashier clearly didn't know what he was doing, consider that he didn't look that younger than Theo he didn't blame him for his incompetence. Instead, he just waited for it to be over, slowly counting the passing seconds, knowing that every second CADMUS could have already taken in Juliet and Arthur, interrogated them, and dumped their cold dead bodies into the Pacific Ocean if they really wanted to.

Richard finished washing up and drying his hands, and then left the small men's room. His traveling companions were at the head of the line paying for their purchases. Richard wandered over to the counter near the grill where there was a warmer that had some cheeseburgers and such like it. Reaching in, he grabbed a bacon cheeseburger and a chicken fried steak sandwich, and then got in line behind the same young man he had passed. The cashier was obviously freaked out about seeing a 7 foot tall man with a long silvery beard trying to order things. Richard smiled to himself. Ah, Paladin.

Ignoring the fact that the young man was directly ahead of him, Richard called out to Quill, "Hey. So where in Silicon Valley were we heading? And how long of a drive is that going to be?"

"Uhh. Hmm. Quill shifted his feet, looking searchingly at the ground. I can't exactly remember. I know Proph..." He let out a soft cough when he caught his near slip-up. "...Nate told me where, but I left it somewhere back there on the road. I know it's a higher-end neighborhood."

The cashier perked up at hearing this, "I wouldn't go to Silicon Valley if I were you guys, some serious shit went down with one of those mutant freaks; it destroyed one whole block."

Theo got noticeably nervous, he’d imagined news about what he and Mode had done would of gotten out quickly, he just hoped that there was no real way to prove that it was them that did it. He couldn’t think that any cameras, let alone people, that saw it could or would still be alive as he apparently obliterated the whole neighborhood. Not to mention that if all of these people were talking about the same mutant, that would mean that they were coming to pick him up. Throughout this whole interaction Theo remain speciously quiet.

Quill leaned closer to the man, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. "You got a [/i]problem[/i] with mutants?" The man recoiled slightly and started to stammer something out, but Paladin placed his hand on Quills shoulder, its message was clear: cool it. "Ignore my associate. Thank you for your concern, but we can handle ourselves."

"Y...yeah. I bet." He gave a stressed smile and went back to his register. "Oh for Christ's sake, here." Quill threw some more money on the counter and grabbed his things. "That's for their things too; keep the change." He motioned to Paladin and Richard on his way out the door.

Theo, who had become a little less tense after what the two men in front of them had said, let the employee scan his items. He figured that the at least one of the men was a mutant but was unsure about the other two. Either way, he wasn’t sure if he could trust any of them yet so he simply headed out the door and off to USC to warn Arthur.

Richard was about to pay for his things, not realizing that Quill had already footed his bill. But when the clerk, who was still looking freaked out, said, "The guy paid for you both." Richard knew he needed to get some damage control in, so he said to the clerk, "Actors. Primadonas, all of them. We were supposed to be scouting out some locations for an upcoming Thor movie. That tall guy? He's playing Odin. He's mostly ok, but the other guy? Who's playing the lieutenant? Try riding with him. Well, guess we'll check with our people and see what they say about Silicon Valley, then." And then Richard shook his head, hoping that the clerk bought his bluff. He seemed to. The young man was visibly more relaxed when Richard began mentioning movie productions.

When the trio walked out the door, Nate had finally caught up from Phoenix with Richard's things and was loading them into the back of the van. "Hanging on, Mr. Weinkauf?"

Richard looked up and saw some of his artwork being loaded into the van. So this one was able to get them after all! Will wonders never cease. Richard was immediately touched in his soul, and felt a debt of gratitude to Nate. "Thank you. I don't know how, but, thank you. These are valuable to me."

Richard continued. "We may have a problem. Seems like Silicon Valley has just seen an attack that leveled a whole block."

Theo heard their conversation. He was sure they were mutants now but, he still wasn’t sure if he could trust them, so he went back into the metro and hopped onto a train.

Nate sighed when Richard told him of the attack. "That means they got to him first." He put his hands on his hips and paced slightly. "He probably escaped since they're publicizing the attack. We have had mutants before that have 'acted out' when cornered. We have to find out where he would go."

Richard leaned his head to his side in thought. "Wait. Didn't you say earlier that this was a young man, student age? In my experience as a teacher, when a student is threatened, he goes to his friends or some kind of safe place. While it may be whistling in the dark, he might have gone back to school. Is there a university close to here? USC maybe?"

"Good thinking Richard!" Paladin clapped the man on the back. It wasn't meant to be strong, but it still caused the man to take a slight step forward. "I remember from his file that he is a student. No, not there. He's still in high school. But as I recall, he had a close friend and associate at USC. Another at UCLA, but USC is closer. I bet that's where he's heading. We don't have a moment to lose! Load up, everyone!"