Young Bloods(IC, Reboot Open)

[Tomia]

July 31st, Wonder Tower
Angelica flinched when Alexis used her name, a few days ago that had been a comfortable familiarity but now it just felt wrong. The frost hero listened to the apology she was given, and part of her wanted to forgive her closest friend and go back to the way things were. However, Angelica was not a trusting person, and she couldn't get over how Alexis seemed to turn on her so quickly.

"Look Alexis, I'm not going to do anything to compromise this mission. Kiris is as much my friend as she is yours. I'm going to do my job on this mission, there's no question about it. But I can't just go back to the way things were for us. You're the first person beside my mom that I trusted in a long time, and you turned on me." Angelica's voice cracked a bit, she was clearly upset. "I know how you felt that day that's why I came to your lab to tell you..." She paused, "It doesn't matter now. What I'm trying to say is we're teammates and I'll follow your orders, but I need time before we're friends again." Closing the fridge behind her, she added. "And I don't think you should use my name right now... It makes me uncomfortable".

August 1st, Distraction Team
"Roger that, moving to intercept." Nightshade responded as he moved up the street with Jane. Their attack had been going pretty well, but Warwolf was moving in heavier numbers and they needed to start going on the offensive. When Jane suggested Roy hit her, the shadow hero looked at her like she had lost it. "What?" He asked in disbelief.

"I can't explain just do it." His seemingly powerless team member said.

"I'm not going to hurt you, what are you..."

"Damn it just do it!" She shouted, and Roy merely sighed and reared back his fist, slamming it into Jane's stomach like she had asked.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

July 26th

---

---

Perfect. Just... fucking... perfect.

One moment, he was carrying Aleta away from the Warwolf supersoldier. The next, he was hanging from some disgusting tar while Pitch swung across the rooftops like a bloody madwoman, nearly slamming him into a wall a couple of times. Rather than reply, or even acknowledge her at all, he simply seethed while being dragged along, not moving an inch or saying anything, even when the rocks that the soldier threw at them zoomed past him just a few inches away from his face - he would've had to give a hell of an explanation to Renata if they had hit, that was for sure.

"Ai gamisou." The Diluvian said as she set him down and pointed out that he should've called her earlier. He made a mental note not to call her again with how "useful" she had been so far.

But any hostile thoughts towards her impromptu ally were cast away as soon as the armored warrior landed on the alley, opposite to them. He nodded at Aleta and took a good look around the alley: there were a couple streetlights, both fortunately within range of his powers. It took a moment for him to focus, but sure enough, while the supersoldier used his impressive strength to break through the globs of tar that Pitch threw at him, he drained the electricity from the nearby streetlights, plunging the alley into total darkness...

Except for the intense blue glow of the sphere of coalescing energy that the vigilante now held between his hands, that is.

Now let's see what you've got in- oh for fuck's sake.

He was treated to a front row view of Aleta doing a complicated and admittedly impressive maneuver with the handfuls of tar she had apparently 'missed' with while slowing the supersoldier down, only to fail spectacularly - for the second time that night! - and hit herself with a pair of dumpsters before they were sent hurtling towards the soldier.

"Credit where it's due, at least you knocked him on his ass." He hissed at his fellow vigilante before rushing towards the supersoldier, who was only starting to get up after taking a dumpster to the face. "Stay down, bastard." He growled as he formed a gauntlet construct around his arm, much larger than the previous one, and slammed his fist into the soldier's face with speed and strength that was much greater than previously.

He could only marvel at the fact that the soldier's helmet still did not break. After a moment of shock, he reared back his fist for another blow, but that instant of hesitation was enough. The soldier grabbed his arm and elbowed him in the face. Blood gushed out of Icarus' nose as he staggered back, dazed.

For some reason, his foe did not press the attack. Rather, he pressed a hand to his ear, and for a moment, Icarus was grateful for that. But as he understood the reason, terror began to set in.

"This is Fenris-1. Requesting assistance from Fenris-2 and Fenris-3. Two superhumans with arrest warrants at my location. One assisted the stray dog."

The laconic message was enough to make Blackout's blood run cold. Two more of these monsters?! He thought, incredulous. "Pitch, we have to get out of here!" He shouted at his fellow vigilante, backing away from his foe. But the soldier would have none of it, and charged towards the still dazed vigilante, who barely reacted in time to roll out of the way and avoid getting pummeled by the stronger foe.

Oh, Zeus. Echoed his panicked thoughts. I'm going to die.

---

July 31st

---

---

After opening up to Angelica and offering her a heartfelt apology, there was really nothing more she could say, so she simply listened. The silence before the taller girl spoke up was oppressive and made her deeply uncomfortable, but she didn't dare move or make a sound. When the cold heroine finally replied, she was momentarily relieved, pleased even, that she was willing to work together, but a part of her knew that there was still something wrong, and she soon confirmed it. Angelica was willing to work with her, yes... but she hadn't forgiven her for all the cruel things she said. Even though she understood, and to some degree, expected it, Alexis could still feel her heart sink upon hearing those words, more so when she noticed her friend's voice crack from how upset she was.

But she's right. The genius girl admitted with dismay. I betrayed her trust... She could only nod at Angelica's words, her gaze kept firmly on the floor. The purple-clad heroine had agreed to work together to rescue Kiris. That was all that mattered, all that she asked, all that she could ask for.

Then her friend's last words felt like a stab through her heart. The tech wizard would've teared up, had she been capable. Instead, she meekly looked up at Angelica, but she had already turned away, closing the fridge behind her. "I... sorry, An- um, F-Frost Bite." She mumbled before turning around and taking a deep breath. "And... thanks, for cooperating. I'll leave now." She added before hastily making her way out of the kitchen, then out of the tower, not stopping to talk to anyone on the way out.

...I'm a mess.

The admission came surprisingly easily, for someone with an ego that was normally quite healthy. I lost a friend just like that...

I can't lose another.

Suddenly, she clenched her fists and looked up at the moon, her sadness overtaken by a profound resolve. She couldn't allow herself to lose another friend. She couldn't allow herself to fail tomorrow. Kiris, I'll definitely save you.

[Finland SSR]

Isaac Fernán
Four Roses Bar, Condemned District

The Mad Lass, Sina As'tari!

August 1st

---

Isaac's response got Sina to release a hearty drunken laugh again. What's this about challenging her to remember what happened tonight, after she's sober again? Why would she not remember any of this the day after? Did... did this alcohol thing have some sort of memory erasing properties? Oh god, what if she forgets how to fly because of this night? She really should have acted on her suspicions of this being poison...

Whatever. Fuck future Sina, amirite? If she forgets how to fly or what her name is tomorrow, then it's that bitch's problem, not hers.

"Hahaha, know that it goes both ways, white fur boy!" Sina exclaimed after her laugh. "Ya gonna need to remember the other challenge too, so-"

Suddenly, however, Isaac released his grip of the redhead's waist, and as she had been relying on him to not fall face-first to the ground, Sina immediately began to step backward, her right foot stumbling upon her left and the woman almost falling straight to the dance floor before Isaac grabbed her again and pulled her back in.

The feeling of suddenly falling out of nowhere and then being retrieved sent a surge of adrenaline - or, in Sina's terms, it felt great. The Dra'Quinni began to uncontrollably laugh, wrapping her arms around the white-haired vigilante's neck, and spoke through tears:

"That was amazing!" Was this because she had made a few off-hand comments about hip-hop a bit earlier? The way how Isaac reacted to it lended well towards that theory... "Do it again! Hop-hop is trash! I couldn't even call it music! I've heard more pleasant woodpecker drumming!"

---

Moody Bu
Condemned District, San Diego
1 August

---

Mizuma Ishiwara, the Lunarian Illusionist!

August 1st

---

"Sooo, I'm here, what transport will we be going with?.." Mizu spoke up after her prank concluded, wrapping her arms behind her back, still overtaken by the good mood of a prank executed perfectly. The Young Bloods were such an easy target, weren't they? Even their adult supervisor fell for it with exactly the reaction she wanted to extract from her... Bu, however, did not response. There was a faint, if, admittedly, forced smile on his face, and his eyes were closed.

"Hellooo?" the purple-haired heroine spoke up again, waving her hand at Bu. Nope, the bald martial artist was standing in front of her like a statue, not budging even an inch. Did she do something to him? But Mizu had never imagined that she could freeze a person with shock and surprise... Lacking other options to extract the gift of speech from Bu, Mizu considered poking him to see if he responds to physical contact, but, thankfully, a beep from a taxi which had just arrived nearby, with its driver waving at them, woke the martial artist up and he ordered the two of them to go. Mizu gave an enthusiastic nod and followed, sitting down at the back of the car right after Bu.

And yet, even after the taxi drove off and entered the bridge connecting Wonder Island to the rest of San Diego, he continued not opening his eyes. And then turned towards the window, as if purposefully avoiding eye contact with Mizu. The purple-haired heroine frowned. Something's definitely not right.

"Hey, what's wrong? You don't seem like yourself." Mizu spoke up, staring at Bu with a frown on her face. "If I did somethin' wrong, just tell me - I don't want you to... feel terrible or anything..."

---

Jan Sorok, the Hero of Poland!

August 1st

---

Down on his knees in front of a small line of pebbles and finger-drawn marks in the rubble, Jan sat there muttering under his breath, his finger slowly trailing from one pebble to the next. Święta Maryjo, Matko Boża, módl się za nami grzesznymi, teraz i w godzinę śmierci naszej... After all, even imprisonment was not reason enough to simply give up on his duties to pray to the Rosary every day - on the contrary, it even strengthened the need in Jan's eye, because with his powers lost, there was only one force in the Universe which could be able to rescue him from this predicament. The Polish vigilante, unfortunately, did not recall whether today was Tuesday or Wednesday - he lost his track of the days of the week a long time ago - so he opted to go through both the Sorrowful and Glorious Mysteries one after the other.

Surely, God, the Virgin Mary and all the saints will not be too bothered, right? Much as they wouldn't pay much mind to his fairly poor choice of a selfmade Rosary - Warwolf confiscated the one he used to carry with him when they arrested him, so he had to make do. It's not even the worst Jan has gone in this field. Back in Poland, he would sometimes count the prayers necessary by jumping from building to building.

"Amen." Jan finished, slightly more audibly and clasping his hands, then leaned back, resting his back on the nearby wall. Then his eyes suddenly shot open in shock.

"W-what?!" the vigilante exclaimed, standing up, shifting his head from side to side.

Everything suddenly returned. His head started mapping the location of conscious minds across the complex and well beyond, yet again... as if his psionic powers had never been lost in the first place. Having realized what just happened, Jan fell on one knee, drawing the sign of the cross over his body, and for the first time in a while, his face cracked a smile. His prayers were heard.

Instinctively, his mind shuffled through the numerous signatures located above their cell, and while many of them seemed to not have much to tell him, the others filled Jan's heart with hope even more. Thoughts about intruders, fighting, getting out of here, rescuing someone, or all of the above.

"Something's happening out there..." the Polish vigilante muttered under his breath, then his eyes turned towards the pink-haired alien on the other side of the cell.

"Kiris!.." Jan exclaimed. That was her name, right?.. "God's angels... he's sent them to rescue us..."

[Agritum]

*Renata matchmaking like she is some anime best friend*

Elle was by now sitting on Renata's bed, hands clenched to her chin, a pensive look in her eyes. What Renata was proposing seemed more and more attainable as she delved into the more intimate details of her space-faring friend. On the other hand, it seemed obvious that even while expressing legitimate interest in livening up her love live, Renata was also definitely aiming to unleash Ellery as a secret weapon in her war with Shi.

Shihong. Shihong was majestic. Elle could not believe that she had achieved that physique without creatively padding and corseting her supersuit. Showering with the rest of the girls after sports practice was an humbling experience with Renata already, but the Sino-British starlet was a step above everyone else.

Shi was definitely the Hot Girl in the upcoming love triangle. Elle had realized which role she had to play.

"Alright... Alright Rena... If we want to do this, you'll really have to help me cleaning up. I mean, I wash myself, but I never really cared about looking, or sounding good. You say I'm adorable at times, so I guess we should bank on that... But I really don't know where to start from. What makes a cute girl? Versus an hot one like Shi. What does Scott even like? "

[Tomia]

Mars
With Jason heading off the generator Mars sat at the desk, pretending to fill out a fake form and hoping that no one was looking over his shoulder. It was a nerve wracking few minutes until suddenly his heart stopped as he heard loud banging and shouting. The Warwolf troops around Mars noticed immediately and starting run in the direction of Jason and the generator. Mars froze for a second, he had no idea what to do. The power wasn't out and their cover was about to be blown. He thought for a moment of signaling Alexis, but he couldn't risk it, not with the power suppressors still active. Then he heard the gunshot and it shocked him out of his inaction. Jason!! He shouted in his mind, rushing forward with the other agents. Mars' mind assumed the worst, without his powers what if Jason died? Mars had put yet another one of his teammates in danger, what was wrong with him? He pushed past the others and got the room just as the lights went out. He saw the agent Jason had fought passed out on the ground, and then Mars looked at Jason himself with growing concern. "Jason, you're hurt. We need to get you help, can you... walk?" Mars asked. He knew Jason had healing powers but seeing a knife in someone's side freaked him out. When he heard the Warwolf troops behind him Mars quickly pressed his pin, sending the signal to attack.

Please please let this go well... He thought as he turned around to face the coming wave of enemy soldiers. "We're going to have to fight our way out." Mars said to Jason as the Warwolf agents approached with batons and guns. The guns were concernedly pointed right at them, as half a dozen Warwolf troops stared them down and blocked the exit. Mars raised his hands as if to surrender however that was hardly his plan. Mars may have not had his regular suit, but he had spent non stop hours since Kiris was captured modifying his Warwolf suit and that was about to pay off. When his hand reached his head he subtly pressed a button on the helmet and suddenly ripped it off, throwing it at the guards. They fired a hail of bullets at Mars but the bullets were instantly knocked back and deflected when helmet exploded in a concussion blast, knocking the troops back and disorienting them.

Now the real fight begins...

[Bentus]

The Mystifying Ashen Moth!
Infiltration Team, Warwolf Facility

---

Ash glanced nervously around the room, her head on a swivel as she constantly scanned all the wary and suspicious gazes that seemed to be permanently looking over in her direction. Sitting beside Cassandra while Shi went through the motions of registering her in the facility’s logs, Ash stood out like a sore thumb. She couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, her antennae twitching nervously as they sensed the danger that permeated every inch of the lion’s den. The encounter with Nacho and his guard had already set the mutant on-edge, with her pounding heart accentuating the doubt in her mind about this whole scheme. And both Shi and Mars had been treating her with cold disdain. Ash knew that it was all an act, and that they needed to be aggressive in order to match their disguises, but the mutant still flinched at their sharp words. Wearing the armour and uniform of the military contractor, the two heroes really looked the part of two Warwolf grunts - a fact which did not help put the mutant’s mind at ease.

Trying to force herself to remember what Shi had told her before the mission, to focus on remaining calm whatever happened and maintain her role, Ash couldn’t silence the fearful beating of her heart as her body instinctively tried to force her into either flight, or a fight. Maybe she shouldn’t have offered to help with the infiltration team. Maybe she was too noticeable within the Warwolf facility and ended up just drawing more attention to them.

No, the others cannot use their powers if something goes wrong. If something went wrong then they would need to remove my handcuffs so that I could help fight. Ash reasoned to herself, trying to steel her confidence. And if everyone is looking at me, Jason will have an easier time getting to the generator and Mars will find Kiris faster. Both of which would mean that Ash and the others could get out of the scary place sooner.

"Please remain calm Miss..." Cassandra spoke calmly from beside Ash, her voice hushed as she paused for a moment. "Miss Moth. It is imperative that we do not create disorder in our plan, otherwise we might jeopardize Miss Ranwynn's escape."

Ash nearly jumped as Cass’ voice suddenly pierced through the background din. Sliding a glance towards the other hero, the mutant nodded slowly as she tried to set her mouth into a firm line. Ash knew the risks involved, she knew how much they were all risking with this mission, and that was why she was determined to do her part. Despite her own nerves and fears, the mutant swallowed nervously before offering Cassandra what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I understand, Miss Cass.” This was her chance to really prove to the team that she appreciated all that they had done for her. By forcing herself to overcome her own fears in order to help someone else, Ash could prove to them - and herself - that she really was a hero. “I promise that I will not let everyone down.”

Meanwhile, Shi waited patiently as the receptionist finished entering Ash into the facility’s electronic logs. It was a simple, standard procedure that she had done countless times that day alone, and the woman hardly had to offer her monitor even a fraction of her attention as her fingers flew across the keyboard. Her expression was almost one of boredom as she slid her cursor over to submit the prisoner application when a red notification flashed on her screen.

The sudden, bright colour change was enough to reflect off of the woman’s glasses as she blinked in surprise. “What the…” Narrowing her eyes, she carefully scanned the text that was demanding her attention before slowly re-reading it to make sure that she didn’t misunderstand it.

“Huh, there’s a flag for your prisoner in the database.” The receptionist explained to Shi, a hint of curiosity piercing through her otherwise bland tone. “It looks like someone wanted to be notified as soon as anyone matching her description was entered into the system.” The receptionist shot a spiteful glance towards where the mutant sat idly beside her other guard. “And I don’t think there’s much of a chance of a misidentification in this case. Though at least it seems to have automatically fast-tracked her processing, so I’ll have someone take her off your hands now.” Turning, she addressed a guard stationed on watch just behind her. “David, take the hairball down to get fixed up in her new cell before…” The receptionist shot a brief glance towards the screen, “...before the Wonder Foundation comes to pick her up.”

The guard, evidently David, raised an eyebrow at the instruction. He seemed to be in his late-twenties, probably with a few years of experience under his belt but not quite enough to get promoted to a cushy officer role. Leaning over the receptionist’s shoulder he idly scanned the information on his latest responsibility. “The Wonder Foundation? What the hell did it do to get their attention?”

Shrugging, the receptionist responded absentmindedly. “I don’t know, maybe the grunt’s right and she’s some secret experiment gone-wrong. If we’re lucky they want to get their hands on their defective property in order to put it down before it does anymore damage. Take a look at the warrants already listed on her file.”

David whistled as the receptionist scrolled through the fake-warrants that Wendy had entered under Ash’s name, just to ensure that her arrest looked legitimate. The team had never expected them to actually be opened and looked at, but Wendy was nothing if not thorough. Unfortunately, she may have outdone herself in this case.

“It’s a fucking cop-killer?” David’s eyes narrowed into a firm scowl as he shot a hateful glare towards an entirely unaware Ash. The receptionist nodded in response.

“It looks like it. It ambushed a patrol out by San Bernadino before the rookies caught it. Be sure that it gets the proper cop-killer welcome mat, won’t you?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell the guys downstairs to lose some CCTV footage later.” David nodded as he got up to approach Ash and Cassandra, a clenched fist by his side as he felt an anger rising in his chest at this new information. He glanced over at the grunt who had helped escort the monster into the facility, wondering if the young woman even knew half of the atrocities that her prisoner had committed. Shit, I wonder if the guy it killed was from their jurisdiction. Maybe it was a friend of hers.

“Hey, looks like I’ll be taking this monster off your shoulders.” David stated to Cassandra as he neared where she was sitting. She didn’t look to be much past 20, pretty much a kid still. “You did real good brining it in, probably saved quite a few lives getting a piece of shit like that off the streets. I can handle it from here.”

Ash turned to look at the guard as soon as she noticed him approaching, narrowing her gaze aggressively as he talked to Cassandra over her. She felt her stomach twist as she realised that he was there to take her away from the others, and immediately felt herself tense up defensively. Baring her teeth, the mutant hissed instinctively towards the guard. This close, she had to make sure that she looked the part of a dangerous criminal, right? If he realised that she was scared and intimidated, then their cover could be blown. With Cass and Shi’s words weighing on her mind, Ash did the first thing that came into her mind for what a prisoner in a situation like this would do.

She took a deep breath, leaned back, and spat straight into the guard’s face.

Taken entirely by surprise by the action, David stumbled backwards as he instinctively reached up to wipe away the spit, his eyes wide with shock. “What the hell?!” He cursed, frantically wiping at his face as a feeling of disgust boiled over into anger in his chest. Looking up to see Ash staring defiantly back at him with a smug smirk on her features, David seemed like he was about to burst. “Oh, you think that was funny you cop-killing piece of shit?”

Ash indeed looked rather pleased with herself for maintaining her cover, and she was actually about to respond to the guard when a baton slammed across her face - instantly sending a sharp pain reverberating throughout her body while tearing the words from her throat. Furious, David reached down to grab the mutant’s arm and haul her to her feet before shoving her towards one of the doors leading towards the cell-block. Dazed from the blow, with her handcuffs weakening her usual strength more than she expected, Ash could only stumble where she was being roughly guided.

“Yeah, not feeling so smug now, are we?” David turned to offer Cassandra a supportive nod. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it pay for what it did. Say that it tried to resist during arrest and got damaged in the process.”

Trying to blink away the water around her eyes, Ash shook her head in an effort to clear the ringing in her ears. The blow had come out of nowhere, and she realised with a sinking feeling that the power dampers clamped to her four wrists must have been inhibiting her enhanced senses. Glancing over her shoulder towards Shi and Cassandra, with a look that almost asked for what she was supposed to do next, Ash felt another harsh shove pushing her once again towards the exit.

“Get a move on, we don’t have all day.”

Swallowing, Ash reminded herself what they were there to do. She couldn’t break character, not without breaking her promise. Turning her gaze forward while trying to appear calm and composed, Ash walked forward as she was directed.

[Aidannadia]

"Pitch, we have to get out of here!"

Lights flashed behind Aleta's eyelids. "AAUUugghh. My head." She held the back of her skull in pain, the way her face contorted with discomfort barely visible beneath her mask and the darkness. She stood slowly at first, faltering for a moment, but standing erect regardless. "Fuck, this is gonna suck. Okay, no panicking allowed. Shut up for a second I need to think." She shot a small glob from a finger pistol at Icarus, barely missing his mouth.

"Okay so first." Aleta coughed three times, "Oh this is gonna be gross. Move!" She shouted at Blackout, projectiling a wave of Pitch towards the opponent, slamming into him with great force and pinning the soldier to the wall. "That should hold him." She wiped her mouth.

"Second, distraction, disruption, and escape." She karate-chopped her open palm while thinking, obviously impaired. "Yeah, so I'm done for the night. I'm gonna set up a party at the hideout. Here let me grab you the address." Pitch read aloud the address of where she had taken Blackout after evading Warwolf before, in plain view of the soldier. "And let's just tweet out a pic and the deets to make sure everyone stops by." She snapped a photo of the soldier, pinned to the wall, and tweeted it to a dummy account she had on twitter, tagging a few distant friends. "'Next time, the wolves should send someone who goes down like less of a bitch', sounds good right?" She said, beginning to walk away.

"Come on, Blackout, I can carry you over there." Pitch began to walk out of the alleyway, motioning for Blackout to follow. Front the street corner, she ordered an Uber to drop by. A car pulled up almost immediately. The vigilante leaned in the window, talking really close to the driver. "I need a favor bud. I'm gonna tip you a little extra," The hero pulled out a wad of cash, counting it out by the twenty, at least a dozen bills getting passed to the confused cabby. "I need you to drop this phone off at a friend's. They're gonna be at a party. He just bought it off me and I need to get it to him tonight but I'm like trashed right now, so if you could help me out that'd be great." The cabby shrugged, grabbed the money and drove off.

"Figure we need to get a few miles out pretty quickly without drawin an attention. I can drop the costume at any point, but we need to stash you somewhere nearby. Um....." Pitch tapped her finger to her lip, "Yeah, I think I know a spot. Just don't touch anything." Pitch motioned for him to follow, the heroine turning through around five different alleyways before dropping her Pitch persona and heading into a laundromat as Aleta.

"Jackpot." She thought to herself, inching through the store to a machine still running in front of a clearly passed out junkie. She snapped her fingers in front of his nose; the man woke with a start, not quite as angry as confused. Aleta smiled, pulled out her wad of cash, and counted out a few more twenties. "I need your clothes." The man began to take off his shrit, but Aleta stopped him quickly. "No no, the ones in the wash. I'm goign for kind of a grunge look and I think you're just the aesthetic I'm looking for." The man looked the slightest bit offended, but took the cash eagerly and walked out.

It wasn't long before Aleta came back to the alley with a grungey set of clothes. "Change." She spoke simply, pressing the wad of clothing, mostly clean, against Blackout's chest. "We need to move."

[North America Inc]

The Mystifying Ashen Moth!

Well that definitely came out of nowhere. In the span of a minute, they identified, categorized, and took Ash away; without no way to not break cover, Shi had to stand there and agree to it. Not that she was particularly worried, they were already breaking one Young Blood out today, no reason they couldn't fit another in their schedule. Holstering her pistol, a random stray thought came into her head: if Jason or Mars do take too long, what happens than? Would she be transferred to another sit entirely? In a sense of dark comedy, Shi smirked at the thought her doing the same mission verbatim, as if no one would notice. In reality they wouldn't, she doubted that the team cared enough about Ash to break the law twice; not that she had anything against Ash mind you. Let's face it, one's dating Mars and the other is dating...Casimir? No, that's Viviana.

Leaning against the wall, adjacent to Cassandra, Shi looked over at Ash and gave a reassuring nod. Muffled talk to the left of her soon grabbed her attention, the receptionist was still talking to her or, at very least, trying to grab her attention. Sipping a cup of coffee the woman continued, "...yea you don't see that many high profile fugitives like that. Where again were you patrolling?" a quiet suspicion lingered in her throat.

Nonchalantly she gestured towards Ash, "Caught her while my partner and I were near the CUSD campus. Got the call after apparently she was found doing a B&E at some campus theatre..." Shi immediately cleared her throat, "I meant theater."

"Is that so?"

"Apparently so." Shi furrowed her brow under the balaclava as she listened to the pseudo interrogation by the WarWolf typist. This facade was not going to last any longer under any type of real scrutiny.

Oh what's this? She instantly felt the shutdown of the power dampener fields, Yes. A smug sense of satisfaction washed over her as she felt the internal strength of her everlasting fire return, the sparks and energy that coursed around the room felt so obvious to her now. The blur that clouded her sight before washed away, and all that mattered now was the power she felt at her finger tips. If she wasn't more careful she might even burn a hole through her gloves.

"Hey you Rookie!" While she was going through rediscovery, the receptionist had been calling her. Some of the criminals were starting to become aggressive, while others spoke in hushed whispers besides them. Only a few moments ago, all were dead quiet; now they didn't care. They were realizing it too. "Everyone quiet down!" the receptionist shouted at the top of her lungs.

Shi and the other patrolling guards reiterated the message with a few baton displays and more colorful statements.

"Now Rookie." The receptionist waved Shi to come back to her, "Let me see your serial identifi..."

The lights suddenly shut off and the room became encapsulated in pitch darkness; Gunshots soon began to ring faintly in the distance. Everyone in the room immediately tensed and stood up, staring at the door. It didn't matter that the emergency generator kicked back on; no one had any idea what was going on and that frightened them. "What's going on...what's wrong with the lights?" To conserve power to the fullest, sporadic flickers and partial lighting was utilized, as per WarWolf doctrine. While it may be great for power efficiency, dimmed lights and constant flickering can reek havoc on your psychological stability.

A plain clothed agent brandishing a pistol ran out into processing, hoping to retain some semblance of control. With a distinct five o'clock shadow, salt and peppered hair, and coffee stains all over his uniform, it was obvious that he was the lead agent in charge. "Everyone calm down..." gunfire lit up in the distance, "Emergency power just kick..."

A constant smashing of a keyboard cut him off as the Receptionist pointed out, "Computers are off. Landlines is off too."

"Don't worry. Stay calm." Aiming the pistol at the crowd of prisoners, he reiterated, "I am the highest ranking officer here and if you want to keep it like that, you'll listen to me. The Emergency generator should keep the power suppressors online, we all should be fine..."

Shi walked behind the man and went over to Cassandra, whispering, "Ash is in the hallway outside. Go get her. I'll be right here."

"Now...can I assume that your cells are still working?" he stated plainly as he scanned the room. A few people can be heard whimpering as the battle upstairs started to escalated with higher caliber rounds. While the guards did their best to remain calm, it was no surprise that the support staff were already praying for to their god. They didn't sign up for this.

"Yes. Signals fine." A guard carrying a pump action shotgun pointed out.

"Just in case an emergency signal didn't go out, call 911. See if we can find some radios. We'll regroup and wait for whatever Rathers sends our way. We're all professionals, we better start acting like it. Everything is going to be..."

Just as he scanned the group to the left, a tangent of individuals on his right decided to make their move. While the Los Sicarios, Bratvas, and the other two bit gangsters were standing with their tall behind their leg, the Black Apostles were not just about to give away this once in a lifetime opportunity. Hidden away behind his brothers, one activated his ability and sprouted out spikes from his fingers. Taking aim, he shot just one. Landing a hit on his jugular, the middle aged agent fell to the floor, flailing and desperately trying to put pressure on the wound.

That's all it took.

The more than dozen criminals began activating and manifesting their powers to the detriment and horror of the trapped WarWolf agents. As their leader laid there bleeding to death, multiple conflicting orders filled the Processing and Cell facilities of the prison.

"Holy crap, power suppressors are not online! What the hell is going on up there?"

"We need some Heavy Assault Units over at Processing right now!"

"Let's get out of here. Fall back to the cell blocks, everyone get there right now!"

"Anyone got a goddamn radio! Where's the comm links? This is a fucking police station! There has to be one."

Five Exo-Suited Armored grunts took the initiative and ran into the Processing room, reinforcing the other lightly armored guards. The dozen or so prisoners had sense destroyed their measly handcuffs and were now preparing to exit into the hallway. A few had already run off, having been spurred on by the volleys of gunfire lighting up across the entire facility. But before the brunt could escape a single order gave them pause, "HALT!"

Safeties off, the eight WarWolf agents and Shi aimed their weapons at the crowd before them. Most were not comfortable with just preemptively emptying their magazines into them, even if they were meta human scum. Shi for her part, stood behind the rest hearing the orders and radio chatter light up behind her. She knew that this fuse was about to give way any minute. The prisoners looked around at each other and the confused officers behind them; without uttering a single word, each knew that a temporary truce was in order. It didn't matter what colors you wore or what signs you threw up. All that mattered was getting out of here. Three of the largest members of the group walked towards the police before them, pushing their comrades behind him. A Black Apostle named 'Mike Tyson', named so because of his look, size, and tattoo all being eerily similar for the world famous meta-human, towered over them. With his deep voice he asked, "And if we don't?"

"We will open fire."

"And we will kill you." he countered. "Is that how you imagined you were going to die?"

"We will repeat. HALT! Stand down, crotch down, or we will shoot."

Sporadic gunfire could be heard again, this time from inside the relative safety of the cell blocks.

"Is that where you were planning to take us?" Tyson pointed out, "You can barely hold it yourself."

While the lead Heavy Infantry Leader displayed no desire to stand back, the other, more plain clothed officers didn't feel the same. Whispering into his superior officer's ear, "Come on man. We're not prepared to handle this. Let's just fall back and let them fuck off."

"E3 if you so much and say anything that stupid again, I'll end you right here and now." Pointing his assault rifle to the man beside him, "Don't test me." Turning back to Tyson, "I'm not going to repeat myself. Stand down!"

"Yes you are." Revealing his hands from the insides of his orange jumpsuit, a piercing sound reverberated throughout the entire room. Everyone fell back a few feet from the Black Apostle as he explained his shock-wave abilities, "Fire one shot and I'll launch your skulls into the back wall."

"Please Sergeant we need to stand down!" Another plain clothed agent reiterated. The other corporal was too scared to talk.

"Hey nig..." a Los Sicarios prisoner cut himself off as he realized he probably didn't want to say it a 6'5, 250 pound man of pure muscle, "Hey don't get us all killed."

Each side pushed the other on, while others tried their best to deescalate the situation. No reinforcements had arrived to alleviate the situation, leaving the WarWolf agents hopelessly isolated. The lead agent considered his options, there weren't many: back off now and regroup or die here. He chose the later. Raising his weapon in the air, "Okay get out of here...WarWolf fall back to the Cell block..."

Three consecutive pistol shots rang into the air. No one knew what was hit, but it didn't matter. One gangster immediately flinched at the sound and activated his terrakinesis towards a guard. The block of concrete landed squarely in his chest; as he flew back, his finger pulled down and unloaded a full magazine clip toward a Bratva member. The gangsters activated their various abilities, WarWolf opened fire, and Tyson crushed their bodies.

All the while, somebody slipped away into the cell blocks. She didn't start the fire, but she did fan the flames.

[Vanquaria]

---

---

Fear The Wrestler
An Extract From
Bu's Journal

---

---

Everyone can throw a punch. No matter how small or fat you are, you can throw a punch. Even if it is a weak punch, it is still a punch with the potential to hurt another.

That is why when I met one of the strongest boxers in the superhuman world, I felt my hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

By then, I had traveled all around the world and fought in so many different places against so many different opponents that my mind had become numb. That was why even when I felt the nerves, I was adamant that I would be the one who would win the fight. That was the meaning of life for me during those days...and sometimes, I wonder if it still is.

It was an actual boxing ring, believe it or not. And there were spectators. I remember how surprised I was to see spectators. Usually, the rich men and women would watch us from a screen in the comfort of their own living room. For good reason too I must admit. A fight between 2 superhumans is deadly to not just the fighters but to everything around them.

That was why, as my bare feet touched the white canvas, I knew that my opponent would not be a natural. My guess was correct.

He was an 'artificial'. The thing that made him superhuman was an exoskeleton. Military-grade. The man was a hulking brute, his black body was pure muscle. His hair was dyed white, blue and red and a great bald eagle was tattooed onto his pectorals.

I immediately recognized him. 'Shotgun' was his moniker. He was ex-Special Forces, American, and claimed to be the best boxer of the Hell Matches. Of course, there were other elite boxers in the Hell Matches besides him, each one of possessing unique super-human abilities as well. But his claim was still a good one. After all, everyone knew of Shotgun's exploits, how he pummeled the head of the bipedal, giant wolf-man known as 'Howler' until the mutant's skull was literally crushed into pieces.

'Faster than bullets' his punches were said to be. His normal punches would already be world-class, on par with the likes of Tyson or Fraser. However, when donning his exoskeleton suit, his punches drastically become empowered to the point that every blow he delivered was at high-speed and high-power. A jab from him when he was in his suit would be the equivalent of a roundhouse from a heavy-weight with the fluidity of a feather-weight.

In spite of all that, when the Death Bell toll and the wealthy figures up in the stands placed their final bets, I remained as calm as a mantis. See, if you know how to handle something, then there is nothing to fear. And I knew how to handle a striker like Shotgun. I had been trained to handle strikers like Shotgun.

Dagestan.

The Land of the Mountains. And home to many Olympic and professional fighting champions.

I had been sent there by my sponsor. He was investing in me, his prized fighter, his asset.

The man who trained me was an old hermit living in one of the multitudes of mountains of the region. Sergei Yamurdov. At first glance, the man is nothing impressive. Short and of stocky build, he looked like one of the many Dagestani veterans that populate the regions. But, if one were to look past his appearance, they'd discover he was special in one aspect of life; fighting.

Sergei Yamurdov. Master of Combat Sambo.

The time I spent under his tutelage was shortlived but it would forever remain one of the most intense training escapes I've ever experienced in my life. And the old man taught me an important lesson during my time with him.

Everyone can throw a punch. But not everyone can throw. Not everyone can wrestle.

Shotgun was a member of the former. Sure, he could throw a nasty punch. But, the moment I used a leg throw on him, the big American man was done for. I twisted my body around his on the white canvas, flexibility being a determinant in who wins a battle on the ground.

The striker prioritized getting back up as soon as possible but within moments, he was expending more energy attempting to wrestle me off him than he had the whole time he had spent fighting me in striking position. After some sustained ground-and-pound in a double leg hold he was unable to escape, Shotgun was barely breathing. When the spectators saw this, some of them, those who had bet on the American, cried out in frustration and called for his death.

I did not oblige. I spared the man. In doing that, I caused myself problems later down the road, problems of a very deadly nature. Yet, in retrospect, I believe I still would have spared the man even when considering the consequences that would face me because of that.

I don't why. Morals, ethics? Or maybe I really am a martial artist I claim not to be. Anyways, writing is tiring work, I'm going to sleep now.

Hopefully, I'll make friends with another teen hero tomorrow!

---

___________________________________________

__________________________________

Bad Side of Town
Condemned District, San Diego
1 August
__________________________________

---

"Hey, what's wrong? You don't seem like yourself." Mizu spoke up, staring at Bu with a frown on her face. "If I did somethin' wrong, just tell me - I don't want you to... feel terrible or anything..."

Bu listened intently to Mizu. And a feeling of smugness appeared within him as he listened to her concern. Yes, she should show some concern. I almost got a heart attack from what she did! he thought, a slight shiver running up his spine as he recalled Mizu popping out of that puddle like she was a cartoon character.

He looked at her from his peripheral though his pupils didn't actually move in the physical realm, it was more his mind peering through his eyes like a curious kid gazing at sharks through the tough glass of a wide tank in an aquarium. Looking at her worried expression made Bu conjure up a lightbulb in his head.

Maybe, just maybe, he could get back at her! Bu cackled internally as he envisioned what he believed was an ingenious prank. Not that he had many experiences with pranks, in fact, the first prankster he had ever met was sitting right beside him at that very moment. That was probably why what Bu thought was a prank was in actuality, just silly, uncouth behavior.

He turned his head and looked at the Lunarian. His was an expression of wide-eyed fury, cheeks tensed and teeth visibly grit. He uttered in his best pretend fierce tone, "Yes, I do feel terrible but not for me. No, instead, I feel terrible for YOU. Beware Mizu, I am China's best prankster and I will get my revenge on you sooner or later. Make sure you watch yourself, okay?"

Bu turned his head forward, still in what he believed was his best angry face. He silently laughed to himself, though he could not see her he was sure that Mizu was shivering in fear at the moment. The Chinese teen felt satisfied, in a smug way, that he had made sure the Lunarian girl wouldn't be pulling any more of her pranks anytime soon.

---

Half an hour later, after overcoming the peak morning traffic and long lines of people walk across multiple zebra-crossings, the yellow taxi finally reached their destination; the Condemned District.

The taxi driver looked out the window and saw the place he was currently at. The Condemned District was San Diego's reputed bad spot of town. Crime was a major problem here. The local shops of this place were few in number and congregated tightly together. Their owners were known to be the toughest shop-owners in the city, possibly in the whole of America. Shotguns were kept under their registers and they kept handguns holstered by their belts. Yet, sometimes, even all those precautions were not enough to fully deter violence.

The people who walked the streets here were of low-economic background, that could be seen in their clothes and demeanor. Arguments broke out constantly and fist-fights in the middle of the street was not an uncommon sight. Another notable feature of the Condemned District was the fact that the place was multicultural, home to people of different ethnic origins. Though the wealthy of San Diego stereotyped the place as the home of impoverished African-Americans, the truth was Hispanics, Asians and Whites resided in the Condemned District though it was true that those of African-American descent made up a majority of the populace here.

Bu stepped out of the taxi, paid the driver, then pulled his hoodie over his bald head. He was not at all fazed by the Condemned District. Places like these were what he had been raised in and developed in. He was in his element here.

"Stay close to me," he told Mizu, glancing at her as he began to walk.

Bu walked like he was one of the locals. He did not stop to read the street signs nor hesitate as to which direction was the right direction. He was doing this intentionally.

It wasn't just because he had memorized the map of the entire District, no. Rather, it was because he saw the presence of criminals everywhere.

Although Bu was technically uneducated, he possessed what he called street education. He saw the symbols, no matter how small or inconspicuous they were at times, he still managed to catch sight of them with great ease. They were the symbols of gangs. And one symbol was more numerous than the rest; the symbol of the Black Apostles.

A major factor for the racial stereotypes of this place was the Black Apostles gang. The Black Apostles were a force to be reckoned with in the San Diego underworld and for good reason. Though their hierarchy was not rigid and sub-gangs often operated with almost complete freedom, the Black Apostles were a very dangerous organization due to their high numbers and their OGs.

Black Apostle OGs, Original Gangsters, were some of the toughest thugs one could find in San Diego. They were not only highly experienced, but they were also extremely cunning and conniving. Life as a criminal is a very dangerous life. Many die young. Those that don't however, either redeem themselves in the eyes of society by becoming legitimate citizens or devolve into a deadly, sociopathic killer whose street smarts and combat skills make him a high priority target not just for the police but for rival criminal organizations.

And the place they were going to investigate? A 3-storey block in the corner of a street at the edge of the main commercial zone of the Condemned District, isolated by carparks and boarded-up shops, some riddled with bullet-holes from past burgalries or the occasional street war. It was the bad side of the bad side of town.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

August 1st

---

---

It was the big day, the day they were going to save their friend. For five long nights they had allowed her to languish in a cold and lonely prison cell, surrounded by wolves. Alexis deeply regretted that they had done so, but she also knew it was necessary: with any less preparation, who knows how things would have turned out? Perhaps some of them would have become her cellmates... or worse.

But not anymore. We're ready.

Those five days had been necessary for the team to prepare. Gathering intel. Honing their abilities. Refining their equipment. They had all been working hard to free Kirisvala from the clutches of Warwolf. Perhaps they weren't fully prepared for what was coming, but they were as ready as they could be, and that was enough - it had to be enough.

The genius girl stood inside her powerful mech armor, Oberon, its arms crossed in front of its chest as she waited for the attack signal. The towering machine stood at the front of the entire extraction team, all of them young teens eager to get back their friend. In front of them, across the street, stood a former police station, now a Warwolf stronghold where untried superhuman criminals were held temporarily. Though many of their forces had moved away from the station itself thanks to the efforts of the Distraction team, which had begun their move some time prior, it was apparent from the Extraction team's position that breaking in through the front was going to be no easy task: much like Alexis had suspected in the planning meeting, there were two imposing Juggernauts by the entrance, along with about a half dozen soldiers clad in power armor, stationed either outside or inside, but close enough to respond once the team made its move.

Fortunately, until then, they would remain undetected. True to her word, the tech wizard had modified the team jet's cloaking device to allow them to stand in front of the station, in plain sight, while remaining completely unseen. They'd arrived a good while earlier, having set out before the infiltration team and carefully made their way to their current position before lying in wait. Tension could be felt easily in the air - it was bad enough for a group of hyperactive teens to have to wait for an extended length of time, but the reason they were there, the rescue mission that had mobilized the entire team, only served to further pressure them.

Suddenly, from her spot across the street, Alexis noticed the lights in the station go out, an unmistakable sign that Mars had managed to use his device to fry everything - a dimmer light soon reappeared, but what mattered was that the building's defenses had been knocked out in one fell swoop.

And yet, Mars' pin remained silent. Come on, genius. The blonde girl thought, holding out Oberon's hand to signal the rest of the team that it wasn't time yet. What are you waiting for...

There it is!

An icon on the corner of her visor's HUD flared up in red. The cue she had been waiting for.

"Alright everybody, we attack just as planned. Follow me!" She shouted at the rest of her team. Luckily for them, one of the things they had been able to do while waiting for the operation to progress was plan, and as soon as they received visual confirmation of the assets guarding the entrance, Alexis laid down some rudimentary tactics: she and Oberon would keep one of them busy while Angelica and Mike used their powers in tandem to trap the other in place, with support from their teammates; everyone who wasn't busy dealing with the Juggernaut would instead focus on the foot soldiers clad in power armor, Elle in particular being valuable due to her ability to provide cover fire for the team.

Right after she had shouted, she took off, Oberon's wing constructs sending her speeding towards the Juggernaut to the left of the entrance - the effect of the cloaking device lingered long enough that when it saw the pink mech coming, it was far too late. Oberon mercilessly struck the suit of Warwolf armor, leaving a large dent in its torso and sending it reeling back. It moved in for a follow-up strike, but the Juggernaut managed to catch Oberon's arm - in retaliation, Alexis commanded her creation to fire a blast of energy at its face at point-blank range while freeing its wrist. The other troops surrounding the entrance took notice of the battle between metallic titans going on nearby and trained their weapons on Oberon, but their gunfire was absorbed by the mech's energy shield, at least for the time being.

Just wait a little more, Kiris! I'll be right there!

[Finland SSR]

Renata Martinez, the heroic Spectrum!

August 1st (morning)

---

"You... you've got to be kidding me!" the clerk standing behind the counter of Sunless Revolution, San Diego's own tanning salon, exclaimed as soon as he heard the pink haired girl's order. "A UV tanning session, at maximum lighting capacity?! Are you sure that's what you meant?!"

Renata did not respond, only gave a brief nod. The clerk let out a sigh, eyeing over the woman standing in front of him. She was a very... odd specimen to begin with. The facial features were distinctively Latino, but her skin was so white and bleached that, if it were even a few shades lighter, he wouldn't hesitate to call her an albino. The bright pink hair was throwing the clerk off, too - what kind of person thinks it's a good idea to color their hair pink, anyway?

"You've got to know, miss, that this is not how tanning works. You can't expect to jump into a max power tanning bed for a few hours and come out with a tan..."

"Yep, I'm well aware." Renata replied and nodded. The clerk blinked a few times, unsure why this was not a dealbreaker to the girl, then continued:

"And tanning at such capacities is highly dangerous to people with... very light skin, such as yours."

"Yea, I know. I'm not worried about that." Renata replied almost immediately.

"It is a source of UV radiation, which is a group 1 carcinogen, can cause sunburn, melanoma, and-"

"Yes, I know!" Renata exclaimed. "I'm not worried about any of that."

"Miss, you know that this is a highly irresponsible view towards-"

"Look, sir, can we move on with all of these questions? This decision is mine to make, not yours."

The clerk stopped for a second, rubbed his temple, sighed and finally replied:

"...Fair enough. But just to be clear, the Sunless Revolution is not responsible for any health effects which this tanning therapy might inflict."

...

"...and you just fucking let her through?!" the manager of the salon shouted at the poor, crouching clerk, clenching his head at the travesty of it all. "Fucking... let an albino ginger into a high pressure tanning bed! Are you insane?!"

"She... she was super adamant about it!"

"She's going to get fucking sunburn, you idiot!" the manager continued to scream, so loudly that even the few people passing by the salon on the sidewalk turned their heads towards the commotion. "And you didn't even check for her age, either!"

"I-I forgot! She-she looked like she was 18!"

"Oh, sure, that's gonna fucking hold up in court!"

"Hey, hey!" the clerk pointed up his finger. "She couldn't sue us. I assured that we're not responsible for any health effects while the therapy might inflict."

The manager took a breath, in preparation for another round of rants. "How fucking screwed in the head are you-"

Suddenly, the slide door leading into the depths of the salon opened, revealing Renata back in her casual clothes, with a smile on her face, stepping out. Both the manager and the clerk glanced at her, watching agape when they witnessed that the girl didn't seem to have been affected by the therapy even a single bit. Hell, her skin seemed to be the exact same bleached color which it always has been, having got turned even a shade more red or brown.

"See, I told you everything will be fine," the pink-haired girl spoke as she offered a passing glance towards the two workers, making her way towards the exit. The manager turned towards his subordinate, speaking:

"Did... did you forget to turn on the tanning bed?"

"I-I did not! I-I remember it clear as day!"

"Then... then what the fuck?!"

---

Renata Martinez, the heroic Spectrum!

August 1st (evening)

---

Ultraviolet radiation, the band of the electromagnetic spectrum more energetic than visible light, but longer wavelength than X-rays or gamma rays. most of it absorbed by the ozone layer of Earth's atmosphere, and the rays which do manage to slip past being longer wavelength and causing little damage upon the planet. In preparation for tonight, Renata had disspelled the usual infrared and visible radiation her body's molecules stored and immersed herself in the strongest ultraviolet radiation the tanning beds in Sunless Revolution would allow, and, awaiting Mars's signal to move out, spent her time doing some basic stretches and letting a tiny bit of energy crackle between her fingers every once in a while to make sure that her powers were still in effect - not flashy enough to be noticed more than a few meters away, to not alarm anyone.

If her powers work the way she presumes they do, filling herself up with ultraviolet radiation should make all of her innate powers stronger, at least until she depletes all the reserves of hers. More powerful plasma attacks, deadlier lasers, stronger jet boosts. She's going to need all of that when rescuing Kiris tonight. Unfortunately, this also includes even greater risk of breaking her body, as she is not wearing her shock absorbers today. They don't seem to work alongside the Spectrum Gauntlet - the Gauntlet assumes that the absorbers are a part of her clothing and thus mask them when generating the Spectrum Suit, and pulling an absorber on the Gauntlet doesn't work either.

Which is why, though a part of her mind really wanted to, knowing the raw power and versatility which the Spectrum Gauntlet provided her, Renata did not jump up to volunteer to fight one of the Juggernauts while Alexis and the rest of the extraction team worked out a rudimentary plan of action. That's not to say that it was not an option - but she's going to need someone to soak up damage if she wanted to tackle those.

Thankfully, their waiting was not going to take forever and Alexis finally signaled the rest of the team that it was time to move out. Renata took a deep breath and activated the Spectrum Gauntlet, cloaking herself with the tight, armored suit of the green-clad Courage Mode. Perfect, this was exactly the mode she wanted to bring to the mission tonight. Leaping into the air and stretching out her arms, the heroine sped off right after the gigantic pink mech.

In front of the entrance, things seemed tranquil and quiet. Unaware of what was about to hit them, the soldiers guarding the entrance were spending the boring evening in any ways they might find - occasionally receiving reports about disorder within the complex but informed to remain at their station nonetheless. Among the foot soldiers clad in power armor, the most elite which the Warwolf assets in San Diego could offer, was Lauris Reiniks, who, lacking anything else to do, was smoking a few cigarettes one after the other. Sure, for a man who is almost sixty years old at this point, it's far from a healthy hobby, but what else can he do? Besides, if the years of service in KGB Spetsgruppa A, rounding up and assassinating Afghani superheroes during the invasion of Afghanistan, stomping out separatist and superhuman protests across the Eastern Bloc, and escaping justice from Lithuanian authorities for opening fire on civilians during the January Events didn't kill him, why should this measly cigarette?

After Lauris released a puff from his mouth, however, he almost instantly could tell that something was amiss - a strong wind suddenly picked up in the area out of nowhere, even though the air was almost completely tranquil seconds ago, ripping apart the cloud of smoke before his eyes almost instantly. Much like the Latvian veteran had anticipated, the attack began almost immediately after - in the form of a giant pink mech appearing in the air out of nowhere and slamming straight into one of the Juggernauts, a fist fight taking place immediately.

The eyes and weapons of the Warwolf soldiers stationed in front of the entrance immediately turned towards the mech, and while Lauris turned to face Oberon as well, he, unlike the rest of his peers, did not fire, instead pulling up the HUD of his power armor and lifting up his cigarette.

It wouldn't make sense for a solo kamikaze strike to target a specific opponent. There's more of them, and they were prepared for this.

Much like Lauris's experience anticipated, the vertical trail of smoke coming from his cigarette rippled apart and his HUD registered the sudden appearance of a new heat signature. The rest was automatic action from his power armor - swiftly reaching out to the air and catching a person trying to fly past and target one of his peers, the effects of their cloaking device fading away moments later.

"Ķēru." Lauris muttered as the pink-haired heroine looked down at him in shock, then, before she could respond, suddenly tossed back towards the street. Much to his surprise, however, Renata did not crash to the ground - the Spectrum Gauntlet kept her locked in the exact same altitude, spinning across the air until the heroine finally stopped to a halt a dozen or so meters away, stretching her arms to the sides, then dropping to the ground.

"Okay..." Renata said to herself as her right arm reached out to the side, grasping onto a hand cannon construct, while a riot shield generated itself on her left. "Guess we're doing this now."

It's been a while since I've gotten the chance to smash the face of someone pretty in this Amerikanyets city.

[The Rebel Alliances]

Alexis Cain/Vendetta-Four Roses Bar

I exhaled a plume of smoke from my lips as I stood just outside the bar and looked off into the dirty streets at the Demon and Isaac's motorcycle parked outside. We left Sebastian's SUV back at the restaurant. There were only a few other people moving about the street. With a woman standing a corner waiting for potential business to pass by her. I gave a sigh, I understand the need for money, but it's a lifestyle I could never understand. Of course, I had rather take a black eye for some loose cash. Or these days make like Robin Hood, take from the corrupt and give to the needy. Because I know a certain group of kids who damn sure need it more than they do. And a cut for my good work is never too much to ask. I finished the cigarette as I tossed the butt to the ground and snuffed it out. Just as I brushed my hand against the six shot revolver strapped to my side. The rest of the guns were in the Demon. It was then that the sensation of someone touching my shoulder. Then a whisper of an apology.

I shifted my gaze to the side as I cought sight of Catarina. I had expected the medicine to keep her knocked out longer. Why was she apologizing? I couldn't even imagine really, I mean, if she is saying sorry for being creepy that ship has sailed. But...there was a sense of sincerity in her voice. And it only confused me more.

What kind of world do we live in when a cannibal feels more remorse than half the scum we kill?

Well, assuming that is what her apology is even about. I had a lot of questions for her. Like what the hell happened to her where she ever thought eating people was a good idea? Or why she only targeted criminals? So on and so forth. But the existence of a language barrier seemed intent on keeping such answers from me. At least for now.

"The only thing you should be sorry for is bleeding all over my car." I lightly joked as I even wondered how much of that she understood. Was I about to have a conversation with a murderous cannibal who could barely speak English?

"You don't have to apologize Catarina, I mean, we're all fucked up." I breathed. And wasn't that the truth? I mean, Nick is possessed by a demonic energy. Sina I am fairly sure thinks of us like cute rabbits or something. Edward thinks everyone he sees is a infidel to be slain and myself? Everyone knows I am a long shot from normal. For one reason or another, none of us fit into civilized society. I mean, there are those of us who can fake it. Make everyone else believe we belong in a nice restaurant with a silver spoon. Especially Brianna and maybe even Isaac. But for me at least, I even if I wasn't doing what I am doing. It would all feel out of focus. I was just about to resume my conversation with Catarina when something cought my eye.

A car which had been sitting in the same spot since before I got here, I hadn't taken a closer look at it before but, there was someone patiently sitting in the driver seat along with a passenger. Facing in the direction of the bar. And since I had walked out here two more cars had parked nearby, but no one exited the vehicles...

My mind then flashed back to Larry inside the bar. He kept checking the time. I thought it was unusual for him because we still have four hours to closing, why would he?

And then the answer hit me like a ton of bricks.

"That sloppy fuck set me up..." I breathed. My hand started to twitch a bit as I almost reached for my revolver, only for my eyes to dart to the Demon. Calm down, you need to think. Ok, firstly they haven't opened fire yet, which means they are waiting. Probably for the rest of their guys to show. Close the noose around us. Secondly they don't know they have been made yet, if they did, I would be dead. But then another thought hit me, if they found us here? Could they have found our base?

No. Well...maybe...Lary damn sure doesn't know but I cannot rule anything out yet. It was clear that Catarina had not yet noticed them and so I acted casual as I spoke softly to her.

"Let's go back inside." Leading her back into the bar, Larry was no where to be seen when I walked in. Fat fuck probably ducked out the back and from what I have seen outside we have maybe minutes before this place becomes a fucking meat grinder with us inside. Closing the door behind me I turned to face my jubilent team of outlaws as I braced mysel to deliver the news as I unholstered my six shooter and checked to make sure that I had the other six shots on me. Makes for twelve total.

"We are surrounded." I said softly but the statement did not rise above the celebrating group of individuals so I tried again.

"I said we are fucking surrounded!" I let that statement hang for a moment as I moved back to one of the windows and peek between the blinds. To make sure that they were not hitting us yet. I then continued more calmly.

"We have at least three loaded vehicles with armed guys out front. I need someone to check the back and side door too. Don't make it obvious we are on to them though. It's our only advantage at this point. I saw we have maybe three minutes or so before they light this entire building up with us inside. I have twelve shots on me. Everyone check your gear and tell me what you have to work with because all of my shit is in the Demon, and I cannot risk going to get it. Hopefully one of these exits are not as heavily watched as the front is and we can break through." I then cast a glance to Isaac.

"Look Isaac, I know your wasted but I am gonna need both you and Sina to sober up real fucking quick. Think you can check the other exits for me and see what they have out there? Take Brianna with you, make sure you do not trip over yourself." I then sat down on a barstool.

"Sebastian, Larry normally keeps a shotgun behind the bar. Go and make sure it's there." Sebastian immediately moved around the bar with precision and retrieved the weapon and tossed a couple boxes of shells on the counter as he began to load the weapon.

"As for everyone else, prepare yourselves and get ready for a fight." It wasn't much of a pep talk, but I just didn't know what to say. After all, I damn sure did not want to say that I doubted we were getting out of this alive.

At least...not all of us.

---

Nicholas gave a slight chuckle at Brianna's comment. Replacing the cigarette in his lips and the bottle on the table. "Thats a strange comment, considering I am a part of a vigilante group. I am far more likely to die doing this than either of these." Nick pointed out as he motioned to the cigarette and whiskey. Of course, he silently hoped that he would meet his end in a fight, as wasting away slowly scared the hell out of him. Of course, given the role he played in the team maybe there was not much chance of that. That was until Vendetta reappeared and informed everyone they were surrounded in an ambush. His eyes darted over to their leader as he wondered what went wrong. He had noticed the bartender leave some time ago, and he reached the same conclusion now as everyone else.

"Well...fuck." Was about all he had to say for the situation.

While Nicholas may have made peace with his own fate years ago, he doubted that all of his teammates had. So he slowly stood up in a manner which would suggest he was under no threat at all as he cast his tired eyes down to Brianna.

"See what I mean?" He retorted with an almost 'I told you so' tone.

With that being said, he had little clue as to what he could do to help. He wasn't the best in a fight and so far he had only assisted in guiding the team from a swivel chair. His hands slowly started to cackle with demonic flames as he realized that he would have to fight again. Hopefully it would go better than last time. It was then that he thought back to his warehouse fight.

Could he replicate his...demonic form, again? The one he took in the warehouse fight? Thinking back, he wasn't even sure how it happened. He closed his eyes and tried to focus. But in the passing moments. Nothing. Finally giving a defeated sigh he spoke up again.

"Well, I can probably help hold them off with some flames. Or try and help fight our way out the back maybe?" It was then that Sina fell over and he physically face palmed.

"So, who is carrying the dragon out of here?"

[Agritum]

August 1st, Evening

The cold darkness of the night was no more, as the skull mask enveloped Elle's face, and put her to sleep. It was Shadowkill time. The green tones of night vision flooded her heads up display, followed by the blue and red-dotted field of thermals. The entrance of the police station, the Warwolf mechs radiating heat from their massive exhausts, and the red man-sized dots of their infantry in power armor.

Shadowkill stood silently, her trenchcoat fluttering in the nightly currents coming from the Pacific ocean and blowing past the mesas in Mexico. Oberon and Spectrum II had launched in action a few seconds before her, the hard-hitting first strike. Shadowkill was to give supporting fire to the other YBs. A task that could sound boring to many, but which Shadowkill accepted with interest.

The thing about covering fire, is that the people who don't benefit from it are on the losing end of high power gunfire. This time, it was special concussion rubber-bullets which were likely to crack a rib or two without pasting the bodies of the victims. Keeping a no-kill rule was hard to do, given her powerset, but Shadowkill did her best.

Strapping the pitch black IMI Negev light machine gun to the gyroscopic harness she had affixed to her combat suit, Shadowkill took a moment to breath, as she counted the seconds before Oberon would have impacted on the Juggernaut.

The loud crashing sound of machinery. Gunfire. The sonic boom of Spectrum rushing into combat.
Shadowkill cocked the machinegun and ran forward, gun pointed, at the mass of Warwolf personnel who had just gotten a taste of YB shock and awe tactics. Two soldiers, glancing away from the mech fight, noticed the trenchcoated figure running towards them and trailed their assault rifles.

Shadowkill fired by the hip, without aiming, ducking and sliding down in the midst of the infantry squad, seeing her gunfire break just seconds before Warwolf returned in kind, feeling their bullets impact next to her. The two spotters had already fallen, clutching to their wounds, as the rest of the infantry squad tried a pincer movement to encircle the black-clad vigilante.

Shadowkill jumped up on her feet, leaning her head against the EOtech holographic sight of the Negev, running to a short nearby wall and sprinting herself on its side. She pushed the trigger, struggling to control recoil as the LMG filled the air with a stream of hot lead. Shadow could feel the Warwolf bullets impacting behind her, tearing holes in her trenchcoat, grazing her bodysuit.

She jumped off the wall, rolling on the ground, darting to another side, running in circles as the men of the unit trailed her with their arms, firing full auto. Shadow felt a bullet fall next to her boot, another whizzing past her head and almost shooting off her mask.


"YOU. WON'T. KILL. ME." Shadow screamed, her voice distorted by the mask's vocoder, coming to a stop, turning and waving her big gun left and right as she vomited another torrent of bullets on the mercs, some of them ducking and diving behind cover, others getting thrown down by the volume of the gunfire.

*click*

Shadow tossed the machinegun away and drew on her double MP7s, just in time for the other warwolf soldier to rush her, arms blazing. She ducked and punched on the gut with the front of the SMG in her right hand, pulling on the trigger and downing him with a loud grunt, somersaulting on his falling body to open fire on the other two Warwolf goons rushing to his aid, skewering them with more concussive bullets.

*click* *click*

The MP7s' spent mags fell out. Shadow clicked her fists, as two new clips were ejected from the sleeves of her bodysuit right into the dual weapons. The Warwolf squad recomposed, surrounding her, their laser pointers shining on every weak point. The skullmasked heroine raised her dual SMGs in opposite directions, in an uneasy standoff.

"Fucking hurry up, boys."

[The Republic of Atria]

Mars

Jason

Scarcely a few seconds passed before Mars came into the room, obviously concerned about his well being. "Don't worry dude, Sludge has me covered. Anything these idiots can dish out, he can fix." Mars then pointed out the knife sticking out of his ribs. "Oh, right." He muttered, grabbing the handle of the knife and pulling it out of his side, and examining it. "Didn't feel a thing." He chuckled as he tossed the bloody knife away, the uniform bulging slightly as Sludge covered the wound to keep the blood from escaping. "Thanks for the concern though." Just as he finished, a squad of soldiers barged into the room, brandishing the typical weapons you'd expect from prison guards: guns and beating sticks. He was all too ready too jump into some combat and pay the bastards back for the knife and bullet wounds.

"I fixed most of the damage, but try to be careful. If we get hurt too much, it'll get harder to heal you and keep us in fighting shape." Sludge noted. "Also, the bullets are still inside you. I'll get rid of those later."

"I'll be careful. Ish." Jason replied getting ready to jump into the fray, however, Mars... threw his helmet at the approaching group of troopers which exploded like a stun grenade and disorientated several of the guards. "You made a helmet that explodes? Nice!" He tore the sleeves off of his uniform revealing the ooze covering them. Globs of it shot from his arms, sticking to a few of the soldiers, locking them onto the floor. "Y'all are lucky as hell we're on a time crunch. Normally, I'd be more than happy to return the bullet wounds and knife in the chest, but I'm a bigger man than that." He spoke, dripping with condescension. "That gunk'll dissolve in like half an hour. Use that time to think about what'll happen when I have time and what you should do from now on."

There were certainly more guards coming. "You're the tech geek dude, lead the way. I'm right before you for bullet blocking and wolfie thumping." The pair bolted out of the room, barely making it ten feet out of the room before getting shot at. by another pair of soldiers. "I got these guys! We got any more of that gunk we trapped the others with?"

"We do, but I suggest saving it. It'll be easier to heal us if we get hurt with extra mass. Best not waste it on two grunts we can easily take."

"Gotcha." Jason replied, shooting two strange of his ooze at both sides of the wall and slingshotting himself towards the pair, who duck to avoid getting clobbered. Jason sticks to the wall and jumps down behind them. One of them aims his gun at Jason, who shoots a strand of ooze at it and rips it out of the grunt's hands and into his. Which he then snaps in half. "Shouldn't play with guns. You'll put your eye out."

One pulled out a stun baton and the other a knife. The knife wielding grunt thrust the blade at Jason who stepped back a few feet, with the soldier pushing up, expertly swing the knife. Then the pair remembered what Shi had showed them yesterday after Jason managed to convince her not to just shoot him, but instead fighting someone using a very common weapon: A knife.

The grunt thrust the knife at Jason, who grabbed a hold of his wrist with his left hand, and a hold of the back of his arm with his right. Jason flipped the soldier over and threw him into the ground, hard enough that the soldier had the wind knocked out of him. "Hm. Gotta remember to thank her for the tip."

"DUCK!" Sludge said, yanking Jason's head down, dodging the baton from the other soldier. Jason spun around, to see the baton coming down again. After dodging to the left of the man, he drove his fist straight into the center of the trooper's face make, shattering it and the man's nose. Nonlethal and painful, as well as nothing that couldn't be fixed. He crept down on all fours, leaping onto the wall and off again to catch up with Mars.

[Confederation of the Equator]

[minecraft villager sound]

[Segral]

Carter Graystone
July 29

Wow. He had been usurped as the prank master. There were three things in this world that Casimir held dear. Poland was one of them, his bike was the other, and his girlfriend was the last one. Mizu's idea was...genius! The most genius, most ambitious, boldest pranking statement, most powerful destroyer of wills! Casimir would absolutely freak if he saw Viv making out with some guy, and Mizu's illusionary powers would only help. Or, at least he assumed she had illusionary powers, given how confidently she mentioned them. Although, she didn't seem to be very aware of the fact that Viv was Casimir's girlfriend, asking if she could get a description of her despite having a perfect portrait sitting feet away from her! But, in her defense, this was the floor of Naja's office and he had never seen Mizu until today, so she must be a new inductee by like ten minutes.

Bursting out laughing at Viv's comical embarrassment at Mizu's idea, Carter had to stifle his mouth just to choke out some words, his eyes tearing up a bit at the corners. "WHOOO, that's what I call an idea! Let's keep it in reserve for now, if Casimir decides to respond in kind to our little shenanigans, we'll have the perfect Ace of Spades to deck him! In the meantime though, I have oooone last idea concerning Casimir's bathroom...if you happen to be familiar with shower plumbing. If we fill up the tank with some water mixed with food coloring, or fake dye, we can get some blood to come out of the showerhead! All we'll need is some tools and the Internet, and he'll be screaming like a baby! If he tries to retaliate, we can try out Mizu's idea of illusionary-girlfriend-kissing. Sound good?" Aliases could wait, the prank planning needed to take place now!

---

Carter Graystone
August 1st

Carter followed not behind Casimir, his stature slightly shorter, but not appearing any less threatening than the Polish teenager leading him, both walking with confident strides across the walk, the blaring sounds of DMX echoing across the pavement. The pedestrians began to scatter at the very sight of the dynamic duo and their dog, black-clad like gang members and boombox blaring out some conservative-white-Christian-offending of rap. How could anyone not be afraid of their dress? Decked out in a Harley leather jacket he had borrowed from Josiah (with a very wordy threat hanging over his head if he damaged it), a ski mask with a skull print on the bottom half of his face where his mouth and chin would be, the same black leather gloves from his costume, a pair of very torn dark jeans, and Converse low-tops, he fit the precise image of a gangster. His hair was pulled back in a flame-printed bandanna, which wasn't visible under the ski mask and his pulled-up hood, but he felt like a badass just wearing it.

Despite crowds pointing, taking photos, muttering about Mexican hoodlums, he didn't care. He idly scrolled through his phone instead, walking forward with Harley in tow via leash as he looked down at the new headlines about Captain Quake and Star Queen's sex life. Poor people, couldn't catch a break from the paparazzi wolves. More Solar tributes, more stuff about the YB press conferences, which featured zero mention of Carter despite the fact that he brought the house down. No matter, he would prove it this time. Or rather, he couldn't, because he was wearing a skull balaclava. Man, it hurts to be this hip.

Target acquired. A Warwolf car was parked outside a local Krispy Kreme, vindicating every stereotype of cops eating donuts to ever exist. Casimir wasted no time, Spiderman-webbing up the buildings and car to form a crude pulley, before using it to flip the armored car over, smashing into the asphalt of the street, broken glass spraying and alarms ringing. Perfect homage to basic science and engineering.

Giving an approving nod to Casimir, Carter promptly released his grip on Harley's leash, turning to face the door as two Warwolf Joes burst out the doors, screaming at the wreckage that had occurred since they ducked inside for gluttony and fried dough. Pedestrians were now scattering away as if magnetically repelled, screaming as the alarms practically pierced the air, giving them the perfect berth. Casimir gave the battle cry for him to attack, and that's what he was going to do. No more playing games. Time to get Kiris back from these motherfucking pansies.

Without making a sound, both verbally or through his footsteps, he sprinted at top speed towards the two soldiers, who were presently fumbling without the power of their guns at their disposal. They were entirely at his mercy, and he wouldn't show them a sliver of it. Swinging as he ran forward, his left arm formed a deadly blade, the side ready to cleave open his temple. Or leave a big bruise and a nasty headache, it was a victory either way. The man, stepping back in panic, lifted up his arms to block the oncoming karate chop. However, Carter saw the move coming, digging with his heels to stop his speed as he morphed his hand from a blade into a claw, a claw that gripped the man's forearm with iron strength. A single yank back threw the soldier forward off of his heels, lurching forward and leaving his stomach open for a strike. Carter's knee ploughed into the target's belly, and with a massive gust of wind backing up the strike, it sent the man flying back through the glass doors of the donut shop, smashing through them and sending him skittering across the floor, sliding through some spilt coffee in the process.

The fallen soldier's comrade had recovered from his shock quick enough to attempt to back away as fast as he could, trying to tug out his radio to issue a cry for help. However, he could only get a few words out before Carter slammed his shoulder into the cop's torso in a perfect football tackle, the other man practically getting lifted off his feet as the small boy plunged into him, lifting his shoulder and swinging him off the ground. Another blast of wind came, this time emanating out of the ground and tossing the Warwolf soldier high in the air, screaming as he spun high above the Earth.

"GET HIM, HARLEY!" Carter cried, trying his best to make his voice sound at least somewhat different than his regular voice, a litttle deeper, a little more gravelly. With a flourishing gesture, he pointed upwards to the falling man, convincing Harley to come up and take him down. This mission was going to be a fun one. Maybe him and Casimir would actually...cooperate?! Nah, it couldn't be.

[Finland SSR]

Alexis Cain/Vendetta-Four Roses Bar

The Mad Lass, Sina As'tari!

August 1st

---

The fun, exhilarating time Sina had been having with Isaac just had to be cut short when Alexis suddenly burst into the bar and exclaimed that they've been surrounded - whatever the heck that meant. When Isaac stopped dancing with her, Sina even stared with surprise for a second, then finally turned her eyes towards Alexis and exclaimed:

"We're surrounded by air all the time, what's the god damn problem?"

As it turns out, however, the problem was actually really damn serious. While they were busy partying and drinking, the bar was surrounded by several ofthe scaleless moving metal chunks, with armed people inside ready to storm in and light this place up - if even Alexis was panicking at the prospect, then the odds certainly were not in their favor. Even Sina, in her drunken state, soon realized that they're in quite a predicament.

A thought which got immediately dropped when Isaac suddenly let go of her, replaced by trying to keep up a straight posture and not collapse to the ground or stumble upon her own legs as she swirled around the dance floor - thankfully, instead of falling, Sina grabbed hold of a wooden column nearby, hugging it and remaining mostly upright.

"Okay, okay, okay..." the Dra'Quinni vigilante in glamour muttered under her breath as she constantly fought the urge to fall down and sleep. Her eyes soon caught the sight of a staircase leading to the rooftop of the bar. "I... I think I can try scouting from above... light those naked rats before they light us up..."

Sina pushed herself off the column - and promptly fell face-first to the floor.

"Ooooor nooooot..." could be heard coming from the fallen woman.

---

Bad Side of Town
Condemned District, San Diego
1 August
__________________________________

---

Mizuma Ishiwara, the Lunarian Illusionist!

August 1st

---

"Whaat?"

Bu's answer was the last thing Mizu expected him to say. Instead of accepting the apology or saying that there is nothing to feel sorry about, the bald martial artist suddenly turned towards her with gritted teeth, clearly feeling unpleasant right now, and stated that he is sorry for her. Because she has just pissed off the greatest prankster in China and he will, sooner or later, get his revenge. And she should definitely watch herself from here on out.

It was... a scary prospect. It's always the silent ones who are the trickiest, isn't it? She'll definitely have to watch out for a rival prankster from here on out...

...but it was also exciting. Mizu's eyes gleamed and the purple-haired girl gasped, then finally spoke:

"Really?! That sounds so cool! If you're such an awesome prankster, could you please please please teach me a few things on how to become as good as you? And maybe prank someone together? I-I won't annoy you again if you teach me!"

---

The Condemned District was... terrible. Even at the first glance of someone who hasn't been in San Diego, nay, the whole planet ever before could immediately identify the poverty, the pressure, the tensions in the air across the entire district. And it all felt so... unpleasant. Alien, even. Completely different from the International Moon Base which Mizu grew up in and associates her life with. Everything was so...

...unclean.
...eye-watering.
...disgusting.

That must be enough adjectives for the day.

Mizu, under orders, remained close to Bu, but despite that, she could feel that her presence alongside the bald martial artist was giving the two of them unwelcome looks, no matter how much he tried to pass off as natural. Mizu simply looked like an out of place tourist this whole time - constantly glancing from side to side, reading the signs, and always looking worried that someone is going to smack her in the head from the back, even though she had Bu by her side.

Until finally, they stopped by what Mizu identified as the building in the picture from the folder which Bu handed her yesterday - and, by God, it looked even worse from up close. It was almost like she had stepped into a warzone. And she is going to have to infiltrate this building and hopefully not die at the same time.

The purple-haired heroine gulped, then turned her eyes to Bu and spoke:

"Give me a second to change, okay?"

Leaping behind a truck stationed in a nearby carpark, Mizu pulled out a few of the pictures of Black Apostle members she had received in Bu's folder, shuffling through them until she found one she was comfortable with, and snapped her fingers. Her body soon turned amorphous and its shape soon shifted, taking the form of the African-American gangster depicted in the picture. Though... the problem was that she did not know what this man's voice was like, so she needed to pick something her mind still rememebered and would be appropriate... What would be appropriate for a black man?

Well, since I'm on Earth, how about...

"Whatcha doin' here, pasty boy?" the "gangster" suddenly exclaimed towards Bu as she pulled herself off of her hiding spot behind the truck and walked up to the bald martial artist, with the voice of Will Smith. "This oughta be good to fool the people inside for long enough."

---

Viviana Couture July 29

Carter Graystone
July 29

Mizuma Ishiwara, the Lunarian Illusionist!

July 29th

---

Huzzah, both Carter and Viviana agree with her plan! The celebrations had to be cut short, however, as Viviana soon, in the middle of laughter, explained that Casimir's girlfriend was none other than her.

!!!

Mizu suddenly froze agape. "You... you... a-and you're fine with that?.." Anything for a good prank, presumably... even having your boyfriend witness you kissing an another boy... Vivi's other comment, however, regarding her superhero name, got the purple-haired girl to immerse herself in thought. All the superheroes on Earth she read about had their own cool and rad aliases, so shouldn't she get one, too? Even Vivi and Carter both introduced themselves with their aliases as well as real names.

"I dunno... That would be a good idea..." Mizu muttered under her breath in response to Vivi's offer to adopt the name of a Moon goddess, and then groaned. "I'd have to research Earthling mythologies, though, and that's a lot of work..."

Carter, on the other hand, moved on from the alias discussion and instead offered to keep Mizu's idea as a reserve, proposing an alternate idea as the first punch in this war of pranks. That being adding food coloring to his shower tank and making him believe that blood is running from his shower head. That...

Mizu gasped. "That's an amazing idea! I've never even thought of that!" Probably because she could not even access the plumbing system in Town Luna, and even if she somehow did, she would have gotten severely scolded for that... Mizu's eyes shifted from Carter to Vivi and back, and she then added:

"Yeah, let's go with Carter's idea! It's gonna have a strong punch and that Casimir guy is gonna know who's the boss here!"

---

Elle

Renata Martinez, the heroic Spectrum!

July 29th

---

Elle seems warming up to the idea. Perfect, simply perfect. As long as there's a strong enough will behind it, there's no chance she could possibly fail! However, their troubles were not going to end there. Elle's next complaint was that even if they want to do this, Renata's going to have to do a lot to clean her up. After all, she's competing against someone who is basically a supermodel.

At last, I can use my powers for the greater good.

"Don't you worry about that, Elle..." Renata replied, a sly smirk forming on her face, as she suddenly turned around and began shuffling through her room, pulling out hair combs, various bottles and lotions, and all the other makeup equipment she had brought with her to Wonder Tower for personal use.

"Scott is... kind of a geek, I suppose. A massive geek. He likes Star Wars and science fiction in general a lot, he's sort of awkward and clumsy..." the pink-haired heroine muttered under her breath as she finished assembling her makeup kit. "Nothing you cannot overcome, I'd say. If anything, I'd say you got the advantage there. There's no way Shi could appeal to any of his interests, y'know? I'll book both of you a restaurant, too - nothing too fancy so he doesn't get suspicious, but much better than your local McDonalds either. Now..."

Renata pulled up a chair in front of Elle and sat down in front of her. "Don't move. I'll turn you into a real treat."

[Auropa]

Mike Mathews, Forge
Outside the Warwolf Centre, August 1st

Crouched not far behind their own armoured juggernaut, Mike stood with the others as they watched and waited their infiltration team enter guarded the facility. He might not have stellar opinions of the team’s newest mutant, being a stab happy fangirl and all, but seeing Ash in restraints, paired with Mars’ recent hot headedness did start to make him a little worried. Neither one of them were exactly calm or stable at the moment and it seemed like one wrong move could tip their hand to Warwolf and send the mission careening into a disaster.

‘Just breathe’ He thought to himself as he tried to calm down. 'They all know what's at stake, they wouldn't have volunteered if they weren't prepared' he told himself as he started looking for a distraction to help pass the time and clear his mind. Not wanting to disturb the others, he turned to his phone. Swiping past dozens of different pictures of juggernauts, their joints and movements, he eventually went back to re-reading an article on a recently made infamous vigilante. Honestly, Mike didn’t know how he felt about it. Normally he could make up his mind on these things without much issue but something seemed off about this article in particular and the vigilante it discussed. For one thing Blackout, as he called himself, didn’t seem all that keen on showing off his own 'heroics' and didn't act like the bloodthirsty hunter many vigilantes turned out to be, in fact, he even promoted a more cautioned, restrained attitude for crime fighters, going so far as to even cite a no-kill rule he followed. While he didn't fully believe his words and story, he didn't entirely distrust them either.

So long as Warwolf was the accuser, Mike was willing to take any of the vigilante’s so called ‘crimes’ with a grain of salt and being honest, he couldn’t deny that he respected and even agreed with a lot of the man's opinions. At the same time though, he knew a BS story when he heard one. Sure this guy sounded alright but for the article to come out now, he was probably just capitalizing off the Warwolf hate wagon and trying to gain more followers like everyone else. ‘Heck, he probably had complete control over the final article and a fully written up script for the interview too’ in Mike's mind, if anyone really wanted to make a difference then they would work to do just that, not hide in the shadows and claim to be better. ‘No’ Mike thought as he put his phone away ‘the guy’s just another fame hungry wolf trying to go viral’ he decided.

One small eternity and a desperate, albeit successful attempt to hold back a sneeze later, the lights in the Warwolf facility started to go out. Eager to move in and cover their infiltration team Mike was just about to move forward when an armoured hand shot out and signaled the team to wait. Seeing that they hadn't gotten the signal to go yet and realising his blunder, Mike gave a quiet nod of thanks to Alexis as he shifted back on his haunches and waited. Seconds passed. A flash of doubt crossed Mike’s mind. Then without warning, a small ping came from his communicator.

"Alright everybody, we attack just as planned. Follow me!" Oberon called out as she charged forward and slammed into one of the two juggernauts.

“That’s our cue!” Forge called to Frostbite as he surged towards the other juggernaut.

In an instant, the day's peace came to a crashing end as a chaotic melee broke out between the team and the soldiers before them. But when the bullets and fists started to fly and collide, Forge did his best to tune out the violence and focus on the target ahead.

He wouldn’t consider volunteering to tackle a juggernaut as the smartest thing he’s ever done but the thought of letting someone else do it left a painful hollow feeling in his gut and to be fair, after dealing with Thunderstruck and a disturbing trend of large opponents, he had a good amount of experience dealing with big targets and in this case, had a very stupid idea about how to deal with the giant powered suit of armour in front of him.

“Frost! Keep its attention and slow it down!” he called out over the radio. At the moment, between the giant rocket powered hulk of metal and the tiny girl with the ammo hacks, the juggernaut barely reacted to the comparably tame figure moving towards it. Instead, it focused its fire on Oberon’s shields only swing one of its arms out towards Forge as he covered the last few meters.

Ultimately, the Warwold moved too late and dropping low at the last second, Forge slid under the blow and continued between the juggernaut's legs before twisting over and picking himself up behind the larger opponent. Racing to reach it before it could turn fully around, Forge charged forward and jumped. As the ever more familiar feeling of adrenaline surged through him, Mike didn’t even have the time to reconsider his approach before slamming against the Juggernaut’s back.
‘-ohshitohshitohshitohshit-’ his brain practically yelled at him as he scrambled to place one foot onto the juggernaut’s waist plate and grab onto the back of its collar for support, narrowly twisting his body away from a wild swing as he went.

“FB get its arms!” he called out as the hulking behemoth began to spin around to try and throw off its unwanted hitchhiker all the while still working to fight off the other Young Bloods at the same time. “And don’t freeze me!” he added as he reset his footing, inched slightly higher, then tried to steady his mind and keep his focus. Say what you will about Warwolf, they use good metal and while he could feel it weakening at the joints and the outer most layers starting deform to his will, it would take more than just him to properly lock it down.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kross Mathews
Pandora's Lock FR facility

“Sir?”

“…”

“Um, Sir?”

"..............”

“Si-“

“What!?”

“Well, your next training operation. It was scheduled to start 15 minutes ago, and the team is still waiting on your briefing.”

Amidst the maelstrom of movement within the hangar, Kross barely tilted his head to face the brave newcomer that dared to interrupt his rest. The officer couldn’t be past his mid-twenties and from how often he was moving and swerving to avoid the dozens of technicians bustling about the floor, he figured he had to be freshly posted here and probably not long out of training.

“Perfect.” Kross said as he leaned further back into his age ridden fold out chair “By day’s end they’ll finish part 1 of my patented patience course.” He half muttered as he let his weary eyes begin to shut. To his surprise though, instead of leaving him to his much-needed nap, the young officer stayed by his side and from what Kross could guess, even sounded to be slowly mustering up the courage to try and talk to him again. Understandably, it took some time until the boy found his voice.

“Sir, I’ve been sent to-“

“I want you to know that every word you say while I’m trying to sleep is going to be another time I run you through gauntlet.” Kross stated as he finally, slowly forced himself upright to properly face the newcommer.

Blinking in surprise and more than a little shaken at the idea being forced through the agency’s infamous anti-psyker training, the officer swalled a nervous gulp and briefly continued.
“Umm, Commander Greer sent me to find you.”

Instinctively frowning at the all too familiar name and reaching over to grab a tragically empty glass bottle by his side, Kross put his thoughts in order and rose to his feet.
“If the old man says jump...” He muttered to himself as he rolled a stiff shoulder and started walking to the exit “Oh. And clean this up. You can’t leave obstructions in the hangar.” He added to the officer without turning back.

"Yes Sir!" He said initially relieved at Kross' departure but as he left and the young officer turned back towards the cluttered, makeshift rest spot, a new thought entered his mind "what the hell am I supposed to do with this crap?" he asked himself.

It wasn't long before Kross had made his way through the facility and entered a large open cavern fitted with hundreds of lights. The training field, now mimicking a dimly lit red sky, was littered with battle scarred structures, half collapsed trenches and dozens of wrecked vehicles all centered around an expansive dug-in, command centre. It looked just like how he wanted any of his battlefields to look. Chaotic, broken and slightly on fire for good measure.

Deciding to stay focused in an attempt to get his work done before the inevitable hangover struck, Kross made his way through a side door in the cavern and entered a painfully bright barracks full of roughly 30 armed soldiers clad in black

“Commander on site!” One of them called out and in an instant, the room fell silent as they all snapped to attention.

Responding with a drawn-out sigh, Kross moved past them and over to a large screen at the end of the room. “Today you lot will be dealing with a stage 3 anti-breach operation. In the real world, that means you’d take a destabilizer unit across hellish a landscape before praying to whatever higher power you want that you can keep it online long enough for a seal to form. In this case your goal is to retake and hold the command centre for 5 minutes. Break up into teams of 5, designations Alpha through Zeta. You get no recon time and no support against an unknown force. Questions?”

As he finished his brief explanation several hands wordlessly shot up from the group.
“None? Perfect, the mission starts when the buzzer goes off.” Kross said as fished a cigarette from his jacket, strolled out of the room and made his way to the observation deck.
The figure he found there didn’t surprise him but seeing the old man still brought a scowl to Kross’ already far from jovial expression. Refusing to give the him so much as a glance though, he made his way to the main console and keyed in a few commands causing a loud siren to go off and the operation to begin.

“So then.” Kross said as he removed the cigarette from his lips “Do you have a reason for sitting in on my op or are you just here for the god-awful cafeteria food?”

[Tomia]

Frost Bite
When Alexis received the signal from Mars, Frost Bite jumped into action at her orders. All of their personal problems and emotions had temporally been put aside as the mission took absolute priority. Angelica was set to work with Mike, and their first task was to take down one of the juggernauts guarding the main entrance. Frost Bite charged in with Mike, who took the lead and attacked the juggernaut. Frost Bite was a little annoyed by his recklessness and by the fact that he was ordering her around, but his words were sound so she followed. Angelica began hitting the Juggernaut with concentrated blasts of ice to its feet. After targeting the feet, Angelica shot a concentrated blast at the enemy's right hand, hoping to limit it's ability to attack Mike.

"Forge, we need to move quickly, the real fight is inside. Don't forget why we came here...."

[New Finnish Republic]

Red

---

Tense. That was the simplest terms in which Red could describe his emotions as he watched nervously at the various monitors which displayed a flurry of information that even he was having difficulty in keeping up with. Glancing over to Wendy, he couldn't help but admire her slightly as she seemlessly transitioned from one priority to another, not missing a single beat or making a single mistake. Given her powers, he supposed it wasn't irrational that she was capable of it, but it still blew him away to see it happen right in front of him.

Fucking superpowers, Red thought grimly to himself, shaking his head slightly before turning his attention back to the handful of screens he needed to keep a much closer eye on. They displayed the areas around the command vehicle in which he and Wendy were situated in, every possible angle that a prying eye could even glance at them from being watched closely with high definition camera installed with motion trackers. In all reality, it would be Warwolf who would be found first should they stumble across them, not the other way around.

While Roy had assured him that the odds of Warwolf coming after them were slim to none, due to everything else that would be keeping their attention elsewhere, Red was more than prepared to hop into combat. His exosuit lay spread out open, ready to be hopped into in a moments notice should it be needed thanks to a small upgrade done by Alexis that made the startup process much easier. His helmet was set next to a small table that lay next to the standing armor, ready to be adorned as well.

In the meantime, however, Red stood in his undersuit, watching with close attention to any sign of movement coming there direction. However, seeing nothing but the occasional ordinary civilian walking past their non-discreet van soon began to cause a sense of unease to build up within him, especially as blurs of motion began to erupt on the other screens as the operation was fully launched. Red listened as Wendy continued to give out directions, warnings, and other useful information to the various teams at work. At first, Wendy seemed to handle the tasks well, but as the blur of action became more intense and the teams more separated, Red could tell Wendy was beginning to hesitate in figuring out the correct things to say while also trying to get a hold of the new information that was overwhelming her. Red glanced over towards the screens for another moment, before finally letting out a loud groan.

"Wendy, scoot over. I'll take care of the distraction teams, you focus on the others inside their headquarters," Red said in a tone that was less of a suggestion and more of a command. He didn't mean to make it sound like that, but he knew that Wendy would try and brush him aside if he hadn't said it any other way.

Sitting down on one of the extra seats, Red reached for the headsets, placing them on his ears before turning his attention over to the screens at hand. After a few moments of scanning through the various cameras they had access to, Red's eyes widened for a moment before furrowing downwards as he became locked in to the task at hand.

"Roy, Jane. Whatever the hell you're doing, hurry up as those Juggernauts are about to roll up on you. Amir, Wyatt, you've got a truckload of Warwolf soldiers that are hauling ass to reinforce that squad. Don't get too comfy in that building. Carter, Cas, there's another patrol of soldiers with three Juggernauts supporting them only a block away, and it looks like they heard the commotion. Get ready."

With the warnings sent out, Red glanced back over to the screen displaying the perimiter of the command vehicle. There were still no signs of Warwolf around, but with all this commotion he didn't want to take a chance of completely ignoring them. Seeing nothing to be concerned about, Red made a nervous look over to the screens Wendy was commanding over, their numbers twice that of what he was dealing with. She seemed to be going on fine now with a third of the work load off her shoulders, but he knew this was no time for chit chat, so he instead directed his attention back to the screens, doing what he could for the team from his current position. Fucking babysitting duty, Red silently cursed in his mind as he got back to work.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

July 25th

---

“Are we close now?” A very annoyed red-haired Hadrian grumbled as she turned a corner on one of the upper floors of Wonder Tower, where the Young Bloods had their bedrooms, for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Sharply contrasting with her was the pink-haired Hadrian who sat on her shoulders, an excited smile on her face as she directed her sister around the tower. Hearing her complaints, the younger girl’s smile only grew wider.

“We’re almost there, quit whinin’.” Kirisvala said with some amusement, holding back a giggle as she heard her sister huffing in irritation. When she pointed at a nearby door, the scowl that was on the older Hadrian’s face only deepened, even as she continued walking.

“Haven’t we passed that door a couple times now, ya rascal?” Seristella inquired, glaring up at the girl on her shoulders.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” She replied with a shrug, prompting the redhead to sigh. Afterwards, Seris took a deep breath and nodded. The younger sister, understanding the meaning of this, left her perch on her sister’s shoulders and reached out to knock on the door.

“Ma~ars!” Kiris called out in the sweetest voice she could manage, earning a snicker from the older Hadrian. “Could ya come out? There’s someone I want ya to meet!”

Mars had been reading at his desk when he heard a knock on his door. Then he heard Kiris calling out to him and smiled as he recognized her voice. He stood up from his desk and headed to his door, wondering who it was she wanted him to meet. She sounded excited so he assumed it was someone important.

When he opened the door he saw Kiris standing with a girl who, like Kiris, was clearly Hadrian. However, unlike Kiris she wasn’t wearing human clothing. Instead she was wearing a strange dark material that Mars didn’t recognize. Besides that, she was significantly taller than Kiris which also made her appear less human than his girlfriend.

“Hey Kiris, good to see you.” He told his girlfriend with a smile, leaning in to give her a soft kiss hello. “So who’s your friend?”

“Good to see ya too.” The younger Hadrian mumbled softly with a happy tone, a dreamy look on her face after receiving Mars’ affectionate greeting. The much taller redhead next to her gave Mars a quick once over, briefly raising an eyebrow as she noticed that the boy looked decidedly unimpressive. Wow, he’s even more scrawny than that other black haired kid.

Still, there was something about her sister’s infatuation that was quite endearing, and so as she looked towards Kirisvala and noticed her reverie, she let out a chuckle. “Ahem! Adai to Kiris, I repeat, Adai to Kiris. Are ya there? Because I think ya ought to introduce me.” She quipped, a playful smile on her face as she rested her claws on her hips.

Seristella’s words brought the pink-haired girl out of her reverie, and she blinked a couple times, turning to look at her sister. “Ah! That’s right.” She said, a sheepish grin appearing on her face. She looked back to Mars and gestured towards Seris with her claw. “Mars, this is Seristella, my older sister! She came today to visit and I’ve been showin’ her around Wonder Tower.” The Hadrian explained excitedly, before calming down slightly. “She’s really important to me and so are ya, so I wanted ya to meet her.”

“There we go. Nice to meet ya, Mars. Just call me Seris if ya want, I’d normally mind, but she’s gone and told all of her friends to do it anyways.” Seristella piped up, earning a playful eyeroll from Kiris.

“It’s nice to meet you Seris.” Mars said with a smile, opening up his hand and holding out his palm in greeting. It was something Kiris had taught him about Hadrian culture. “It’s great to finally meet some of Kiris’ family.” He added, causing Kiris to briefly avert her gaze, as if troubled.

Seristella, on the other hand, grinned and placed her open palm against his for a moment before pulling back. I guess she’s been teaching him about our traditions, then. She thought. “So, I guess you’re the man that stole my little sister’s heart, huh?” She continued, leaning a bit closer to get a better look at his face. “I’ve gotta admit, her taste in men surprised me a little. Ya look more… delicate than I expected.”

Mars raised an eyebrow at her last statement. He had a feeling that Seris didn’t think much of humans, which wasn’t too surprising. Physically they weren’t much when compared to Hadrians. “Well, looks can be deceiving sometimes.” He said with a small grin. “But ya, I guess I am that man, she’s certainly stolen mine.” He said, wrapping an arm around Kiris, who happily snuggled up to him and leaned her head on his shoulder, returning the affection given. “So Seris, how have you enjoyed Earth so far? And what did you think of our teammates?”

“She’s not very impressed with Earth, but ya don’t really need to listen to her. She’s really picky, must be all that prestige messin’ with her head.” Kirisvala chimed in with a playful jab, sticking out her tongue at her sister, an universal gesture of mockery. Seris stuck out her tongue right back before turning back to Mars.

“Earth’s… nice, I suppose. Definitely cooler than Adai, and it must be nice to be able to take a walk in a forest and not have every living thing in sight try to kill you.” She commented offhand to try and seem more polite to the young human.

“Exaggeration. Some people like doin’ that to intimidate other races. I heard about it in a documentary.” Kiris stated, and this time it was Seris who rolled her eyes.

“Oh fine, only half of them.” The older sister admitted. “Anyway, I haven’t met a lot of your teammates yet. Let’s see… there was the kid whose name is the same as his hair color. I don’t know what to make of him. He had the aura of a warrior, but my sister says he doesn’t have any gift like the rest of you. She also doesn’t seem comfortable around him, but I assume you’d know more about that than I.” She shrugged. “There was also his mate, the mind-speaker. She seemed nice, didn’t stand out much. I met the scrawny boy too, the one who’s full of himself. If you’re right that looks can deceive, he’s probably a good example: he doesn’t look like much, but my sister claims he’s one of your vanguard.”

Afterwards, Seristella moved one claw to her chin, apparently becoming absorbed in thought for a moment. “Oh! We also met the tiny girl. Alas, she appeared to be too busy to entertain us now, but she seemed fun.” She concluded, nodding to herself.

When her sister finished speaking, Kirisvala poked his boyfriend with her tail a couple times. “Hey, why don’t ya show her some of your stuff? I’m sure you can make a better impression than Casy or that silly Red.” She suggested with a smile on her face.

Mars got the drift from Kiris question and insistent poking and smiled. “Sure, I’ll do my best.” He said before inviting the two of them into his room. It was fairly well kept and neat - Seristella nodded to herself in appreciation of his discipline as she walked inside - his bed was made and all of his clothes were put away in drawers. However his desk/work area was slightly cluttered with papers and different tools. He approached it and pulled out a slim but large silver suitcase. He told Kiris and his sister to take a step back before unlocking it and opening it. Soon mechanisms within the suitcase began to activate, and Rocket was made to stand tall, his feet resting on the bottom of the suitcase he was once contained in.

“This is Rocket.” He told his girlfriend’s sister with a proud smile on his face. “He’s an automated mech, that I pilot when we fight villains.” He said, before pressing a button on his watch that made Rocket’s arms jump into a classic heroic pose, with his arms bent upwards.

Far from being impressed, the red-haired Hadrian was clearly alarmed, immediately shoving Kiris back in order to protect her and jumping into a defensive position as soon as the mech was fully assembled. The alien warrior did not make the first move in case either her sister or the girl’s boyfriend wanted to explain, but she was not keen on taking any chances beyond that. The war with the machines had come to an end hundreds of years before she was born, but a fear and prejudice of automata still ran deep within the minds of the people of Adai.

Fortunately, the other Hadrian in the room was both familiar enough with robots not to be paralyzingly afraid of them, and well-acquainted with the fear and mistrust they inspired in her fellow Hadrians. “Seris! Wait! Rocket’s not a bad guy!” Kiris exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around her sister’s waist, pulling her back a bit in fear that she’d attack Rocket or, dragon forbid, Mars. “We’re heroes, remember? Mars uses it to help people!”
Mars was surprised by Seris’ hostile reaction, until he remembered what Kiris’ had told him briefly about Hadrians’ fear of machines. “Uh sorry, but ya Kiris is right, Rocket here is harmless.” He said, as he made the mech take a step back away from them. “I’ve been working on him since I was a kid, he was kind of my security blanket you know?”

“Security… blanket?” Seristella raised an eyebrow, finding the foreign idiom somewhat strange, as it gave her an imperfect mental image, far from what Mars actually meant. She had calmed down thanks both to the human boy’s words and her sister’s, so for now, she simply looked to the latter in hopes of receiving an explanation.

“Oh, um… he means that workin’ on Rocket used to comfort him when he was a kid.” Kiris clarfied, before suddenly realizing that Mars likely wouldn’t want to share his story with Seris, especially since he’d only just met her. Feeling responsible of making sure that her sister didn’t ask any sensitive questions, she quickly spoke up again. “Anyway, bottom line is Rocket follows Mars’ orders and Mars is a good guy, so ya don’t need to be wary of it.”

“I guess.” Seristella replied with a sigh before looking at Mars. “Sorry, I’m just used to tin cans like this one here being the bad guys, not the good ones.” She explained, taking a few steps to the side and crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. An uneasy silence fell upon the room and, realizing it was her fault, the red-haired Hadrian tried to come up with a good way to get rid of it. “So, tell me about ya two, Mars. How’d ya two start goin’ out? How far along have you gotten? I know you’ve kissed her already, done anythin’ else yet?” She asked after several moments with a mischievous grin on her face. Hearing her playful questioning, Kirisvala stared at her in surprise, her face turning beet red.

Mars turned red as well surprised by the question, “Uh, well we were actually set up on a date by a friend of ours on the team.” Mars said, smartly choosing to ignore that last question. “We spent the day at the zoo, had a picnic, that sort of thing.” He said speaking a little quicker than usual.

Seris looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Ya guys don’t play along, do ya?”

“Well that’s because it’s none of your business!” Kiris snapped at her, wildly flailing her arms for emphasis. “There, he already told ya what our first date was like, and that’s all we’re tellin’ ya!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, scowling. The older Hadrian quickly raised her claws in a defensive gesture.

“Alright, alright, calm down! If I’d known ya were gonna be so upset about it believe me I’d never have asked!” She shot back, irritated, before turning around and stomping out of the room, leaving a shocked Kiris behind, the younger Hadrian saying nothing for several moments, not expecting her sister to react like that.

“...Hey!” She shouted at Seristella to catch her attention, but it didn’t seem to do anything. Scowling again, the pink-haired girl shouted once more, louder this time. “Come back here, ya bogan!” But there was no response, and Kirisvala’s shoulders slumped. There was something familiar in all of this, and she was suddenly afraid. With much of her enthusiasm gone, she turned back to look at Mars. “Um… sorry about that… she’s not the easiest person to get along with…” She mumbled, looking down. She had dearly hoped that their first impressions of each other would be better than that.

“Sorry Kiris, I guess Rocket didn’t impress her.” Mars said softly with a small frown on her face. He didn’t like seeing his girlfriend sad like that. He reached out and grabbed one of her claws to try and comfort her. “But don’t be sad, it wasn’t your fault. I’m happy I finally got to meet someone from your family.” He smiled at her, and she smiled in return, though at his next words her expression quickly soured. “I’m sure the rest of your family’s nicer, and she and I could… Kiris?”

“No, no, the rest are worse.” She said with a light chuckle, shaking her head. The rest… she didn’t want to spend any length of time thinking about them. Especially not him.

“Did I…” The genius boy began, uncertain, only to be promptly interrupted.

“Ya did great, Mars, thanks for puttin’ up with her. She’s just a little hardheaded is all, give her time.” The Hadrian girl assured him, giving his hand a light squeeze and offering him a faint smile. “I’m sure if she made the effort to get to know ya a little bit better she’d realize that you’re an amazin’ person.” She leaned in to give him a tender kiss on the cheek before taking a few steps back, reluctantly letting his hand go. “I should go look for her now, make sure she doesn’t pick a fight with someone. I’ll see ya later, Mars.”

The genius boy then watched as his girlfriend disappeared through the door of his bedroom, confused. She was affectionate as ever, but… he could tell she wasn’t feeling as cheerful anymore.

---

It didn't take Kirisvala very long to find her sister after she'd left Mars' side - after all, her people were capable of tracking down any living being with just a touch, one of the many traits that had made them the mightiest predators on the surface of Adai. It surprised her quite a bit to learn that her sister had promptly jumped off of one of the tower's windows and landed unscathed, but given the way she had dismounted her ride earlier, it made enough sense, and it gave her precious time to think over what she wanted to say and how she felt while walking down several flights of stairs to the tower's ground floor.

She would encounter Seristella only a few moments later: the Hadrian redhead was standing on the sand, near the spot where Kiris had been sitting before encountering her, arms crossed in front of her chest as she stared out into the sea, her back turned on her younger sister; her towering marine beast was nowhere to be seen. Kiris approached carefully, not that it mattered too much - it was impossible for her sister not to notice her arrival, as their tracking applied both ways - and stopped several paces away from the other Hadrian, an awkward silence soon forming. She had hoped her sister would react to her arrival somehow, but it didn't seem like she was too eager to start a conversation. Disappointed, Kiris looked down at the ground.

"...Are ya leavin'?" She asked after several unpleasant moments. But after being momentarily broken, the silence only continued. Kirisvala didn't know what might have been going through her sister's mind at that time, but as she was continued to be ignored, her claws tightly clenched into fists, and her sad expression gave way to a scowl. "Is that your idea of a good visit after abandoning me for six years, then?! Waltzin' in after givin' me a death scare, actin' all condescending in front of my friends and ignorin' me?!" She shouted in anger, taking several resolute steps towards Seristella, though her resolve petered out nearly as quickly as it had come. She averted her gaze, tears welling up in her eyes. "I thought that ya... after all this time... I-I thought..."

Suddenly, Seristella turned around to face her. The older Hadrian's expression was one of fury, but it was soon tempered as she looked at the sorrow on Kirisvala's face. After a few more moments of silence, she let out a long sigh. "I... look, I'm sorry. You're right, this has been an awful visit..." She said with a weak chuckle, awkwardly rubbing the back of her head. "I guess I should have tried being nicer, huh... I didn't realize this team was so much more important to ya than..." The redhead trailed off, leaving the last words unsaid, not wanting to upset the girl further, especially knowing the reason she had come here in the first place.

Kiris' own anger dried up as she heard her sister's apology, and she walked forward a few more steps before hugging her, the older Hadrian responding in kind, though the embrace was not nearly as tender as the one they had shared earlier that day, and their tails remained uncoiled.

"So... are ya leavin'?" The pink-haired girl eventually asked with a voice so quiet and meek it was clear she was still disheartened.

"Yeah... I think it's best I left soon. I've caused ya enough headaches..." The redhead stated, before holding her sister tighter. "I'm not abandonin' ya again Kiris, I promise ya that. I'll try to come back and visit as often as I'm allowed."

They broke up their embrace a few moments later. Kirisvala's sadness had been sedated, for the most part, though she still looked at her sister with some apprehension, something she quickly noticed.

"Ya know... I'm not sure if you'll want to accept them now, but I brought ya some presents. I know it's not enough to make up for leavin', and that's not my intention, but..." She gave a small shrug. "I just thought I'd bring ya somethin' nice."

"Somethin' nice?" Kiris repeated, giving the redhead a surprised look. As far as she could recall, her sister had never been one for giving gifts, so she was left to wonder what 'something nice' meant to her. "It better not be horn polish..."

Seristella immediately crossed her arms. "Well fine then. Keep lookin' like a peasant. Not like any of your human friends are gonna notice." She replied. The pink-haired girl could only laugh in response.

"Wait, seriously?" She asked, amused.

"Er... yeah, among other things. I thought it'd be nice, I mean, I doubt ya can get any of it around these parts." The taller Hadrian stated as she pulled a small black bottle covered by a piece of cloth out of her cloak and lightly tossed it up, with Kiris catching it with ease once it fell. "I, ah, I also made ya this." She continued, pulling out another object, a bit smaller this time, and holding it up so that her sister could see. It was a figurine in the likeness of the shorter girl, hand-carved - literally - from a block of near black wood that belonged to a species of tree native to Annriven. "I'm not as good as ya with this kind of stuff but I hope ya like it."

Kiris looked at the figurine with a small smile on her face. It wasn't very detailed, and the craftsmanship was clearly rough on the edges - the horns were too big, the tail too short, etc. - but she was happy nonetheless. "Thanks, Seris! It's great! Maybe I should make ya one too?"

"Sure, I'd love that! I'm sure it'll turn out a lot better than this one." The older girl smiled back, handing over the small effigy and looking fondly at her younger sister as she toyed with it.

It would have been a perfect moment to take her leave, but for some reason, she did not. Kiris quickly noticed, and looked up from the figurine, casting her sister a confused look. Moreso when she noticed that the redhead seemed to have something on her mind.

"...What's the matter, sis?"

Seris sighed. "Listen, Kiris. I was very happy to see ya again. I've wanted to see ya again for a long time, but... I was also afraid of what would happen." The redhead spoke, fidgeting a little with her hands, which surprised her sister. "I was too frustrated to acknowledge it at the time, but I was really selfish, and when I realized what I did I was scared you would hate me for it, and-"

"But ya came here today!" Kirisvala interrupted her, clutching one of Seris' hands. "And I don't hate ya! And I'm happy to see ya too! That ya could get over your fear and come here to visit me, that means a lot to me sis." She said, beaming up at her sister, though her enthusiasm quickly waned when she noticed that the taller girl looked even more conflicted than before.

"Yeah, I came here today... because I had another reason I needed to see ya." She stated. Kiris looked at her in confusion, her silence prompting her to continue. "It doesn't have to be today, or tomorrow, but... soon, okay? I need ya to come back with me soon. Back home."

Then it came, the reaction that the Hadrian warrior had been dreading - only partial at first, but unmistakable. Kirisvala took a couple steps back, a look of utter shock on her face. "W-what...?"

"Just for a few days, okay? I'm not askin' you to come back forever or leave your life here, that's not what this is about. I-"

"Then what is it about, Seris?" The pink-haired girl interrupted her yet again, though her tone was far from warm and hopeful this time. "Why's your reason so important that you thought it would be in any way a good idea to tell me to go back to that place?" She growled in a decidedly hostile manner. Color began to drain from her sister's face, but she tried her best to keep her cool.

"Look, I know ya went through a lot of bad st-"

"Do ya?" Kiris spoke up. "I don't recall seein' ya there." She said, in appearance cold, though the shaking of her fists and her entire frame betrayed the fact that her emotions were about to burst.

"No, I know! I've already admitted that and apologized!" Seris shouted. "But things have changed! Father-"

"He was the worst part!" The younger Hadrian clamored, tears in her eyes. "I-I had to watch as my kind and lovin' father became a cold, distant, evil man!" It took all of her mental fortitude to stay in control in the face of all the surfacing memories and emotions. "I don't care what's changed! It's a bit late if he wants to apologize for all that!"

Seristella remained silent for a few seconds, her shoulders slumped and her gaze averted, having all but given up. "...Kiris, I'm sorry. I know ya don't want to, but it's important..." She mumbled, already expecting the girl to lash out yet again.

"...Why are ya takin' their side, Seris? Didn't ya leave because you saw what they were doin'? Why are ya tryin' to take me back there?" Kiris asked, forlorn and helpless. "I'm happy where I am, with people who aren't gonna turn on me! I'm never goin' back there!"

The red-haired Hadrian let out another sigh and turned around. "I made a mistake in coming here." She stated plainly, beginning to walk away from her sister's home. "Sorry, Kiris. I'll leave now." The warrior briefly walked around the sands to retrieve both her serrated sword and her helmet, which she had left there earlier that day, upon first arriving to the island. Then, after casting one last glance at her younger sister, she clenched one of her claws into a fist and pounded her armored chest with it. Suddenly, she vanished from sight, and Kirisvala was left alone on the beach.

"...Fine then!" The young Hadrian screamed at the air where her sister had once stood. The next moment, she fell to her knees and cried.

I don't need you!

---

July 27th

---

Se... ris...

The thought briefly crossed the battered Hadrian's mind as she fell to the ground, completely spent, sporting a myriad bruises and a bloodied face. She had been defeated, that much was certain, but it made everything else uncertain. She didn't know if she would be able to see Seristella again, or if she would ever reunite with Mars... or even if she would wake up, though she was oddly certain she would not stay awake for long - her entire body ached, and she'd exhausted all of her energy to fend off all the soldiers that Warwolf had sent after Mars' informant. She could only take solace in the knowledge that she had kept the troops busy for far longer than four minutes, meaning Mars was quite far away by now, safe from Warwolf's clutches. But even these thoughts only fugaciously crossed her fading mind as she slipped further into unconsciousness.

The last thing she saw was a black boot stomping the ground next to her face.

"This is Fenris-3. Threat has been contained. The culprit will be brought into custody." Spoke a somewhat monotonous voice belonging to a woman clad in full armor, completely black, with the insignia of the wolf proudly stamped on her chestplate. Surrounding her were a bit over ten regular Warwolf soldiers, several of them beaten up or injured.

"How many of you did she take down before I arrived?" The supersoldier asked, the question directed at whoever the most senior trooper was, while bending down to pick the unconscious alien's ring off her finger, the illusion around her quickly vanishing. After getting over his initial surprise, one of the injured men cleared his throat to speak up.

"About a half dozen, I reckon. It's a good thing that you got here when you did ma'am." He stated, with the woman simply nodding in response. She scanned the area silently, noticing a few camera crews approaching the area.

"Get her in a vehicle. Take her to processing. I doubt high command will be happy to know that the mole escaped, but at least you did not come up empty-handed." She stated, opting to reserve the comment that she had her doubts about the strategical value of a teenage prisoner with quite a bit of renown and popularity within the city. Observing as the crews moved ever closer, the woman nodded at the senior trooper and then walked away from the area, her form suddenly seeming to blend into her surroundings and fade away. With a shrug, the soldier made a few gestures directed towards his comrades, one of them quickly radioing to request transport while another began restraining the captive. They did their best to keep away the reporters and paparazzis, but news that the heroine of the Hilton gala had been captured spread like wildfire.

---

August 1st

---

The past five days had been miserable for the pink-haired heroine.

She had first woken up shortly after being put on a vehicle, but her thrashing earned her nothing, the restraints placed on her too durable to break with just her strength. Then, as the automobile neared the police station, the girl suddenly felt stripped of something very important to her. A connection with something greater, one that she'd felt ever since she was born. She felt completely isolated now, lonelier than she had ever been before.

The utter shock of this turn of events rendered her docile enough to be transported to her cell, much to her handlers' fortune. There, she met the Polish vigilante, Jan, who had apparently been unfairly imprisoned, just because he was an unregistered superhuman in Warwolf's turf. His faith was something very strange to her - religion wasn't something she discussed often with her teammates, if at all - but she

Unfortunately for everyone involved, her mild behavior lasted very little. Between the desire to see her team and her boyfriend again, and her complete revulsion at being cut off from something so dear to her, she quickly rebelled, though it would have been best if she had simply stayed quiet. She possessed enough strength to break through the bars that held her inside her cell, and though her magic was gone she still wielded her powerful voice, but her numerous attempts to escape or cause havoc were quelled with an abundance of violence, and eventually, two days after her arrival, she was fitted with a special collar that inhibited her ability to speak or use her voice.

Silenced and isolated, the Hadrian quickly lost the will to revolt or escape under her own strength. Claiming the corner of the cell as her own, she spent the remaining days barely moving, only occasionally nodding at one of Jan's comments or making short work of the rations that Warwolf gave her for nourishment.

It seemed that the first of August wouldn't be any different than her previous few days at the holding cell. She spent her time on her cot or huddled up in the corner as night fell, wondering when she would be able to stretch her legs again. She had no doubt that her team would come to help her, believing them incapable of abandoning her, but the question was, when?

As she pondered this for the fourth or fifth time, the lights around the complex suddenly went off. She would've been very alarmed... had it not been for the fact that her connection had returned all of the sudden. Her isolation came to an end, and the warmth that enveloped every member of her species returned to her in full force, almost as if it was whispering, singing to her.

Focused as she was on what she was feeling, she almost didn't hear Jan tell her that something was going on, not that it wasn't painfully obvious. Then he brought up his beliefs again, mentioning God and his angels. She wasn't sure what he meant by that, but anyone willing to rescue them from that dreary place was quite welcome, even if they were not the envoys of her Goddess.

Regardless, the commotion soon reached the entrance to the cell blocks, and the sound of shouting and gunfire reached her ears. The guards patrolling the cell block quickly rushed towards the entrance to see what was going on and provide cover, which provided her with a perfect opportunity. Raising her claws to her neck, she tore off the silencing collar and threw it to the ground before stomping on it, breathing a sigh of relief at being freed from the oppressive device. At first she still couldn't make a sound, but soon she was able to start making quiet, disjointed vocalizations, and after a few moments she managed to utter a single word.

"Fi... nally..."

[Turmenista]

This is Part 1 of 2 of a collaborative post between Valefontaine, Turmenista and Tyr

Hugo Holydiver Henderson feat. Max Grünewald Ivan Morezov, Misha Kasaprov, and Igor Casitov, aka “The Mammoth”
Guest Starring: CORE and PLEX
Little Stevepol Bar
__________________________________

Hugo approached the otherwise unassuming bar down the street, observing the rather dismal surroundings. The explosions had made most bystanders flee indoors, and upon a closer glance it seemed the bar had seen quite the fight take place. Perhaps he'd have a good laugh asking a local or two what'd just transpired — if they could even understand him. Hugo's comprehension of Russian came from what books he'd studied on the language, and the few Russians he'd met among the high-brow fashionwear connosieurs of Paris. The neon sign, crooked from the fighting before, flickered through the light snowfall, perhaps indicative of the quality of this place. There was a certain quality to the decadent facade of the bar that was simultaneously beneath and satisfactory of Hugo's tastes — it looked awfully low-class, but it certainly seemed the place where curious affairs would transpire. After all, he was in an equally curious place — he'd almost forgotten why he'd ended up in Grestol in the first place!

Had the source of the explosion been perhaps some kind of 'fight' taking place in this rather bizarre, miserable excuse of a place? Hugo was adept at fighting — at least for a man of his craft — but hadn't seen a real fight occur in quite some time. Whatever was going on in Grestol, it was perchance a splendid opportunity for him to witness some action, even if as an observer. He approached the door of the bar, which lay slightly ajar, small slivers of neon signs within glimmering through the thin space. He'd almost forgotten just how unfit for the cold his clothes were, which would be another reason for him to get indoors.

Inside, the men had taken shelter from the cold following their ambush from the robots, which had caused every patron of the normally bustling bar to vacate the area. This left only Ivan and his militia friends, Misha, and, of course, Casitov himself. It was quite ironic to see such a world-renowned superhero like the Mammoth, feared and respected for his combat spirit and unstoppable power, licking his wounds alongside the others in the bar. What could’ve come in to town that could best even the power of the mighty Mammoth? And why Grestol, of all places?

The door opened, almost without a sound — Hugo stepping in wordlessly to see the scene that had apparently taken place inside the bar. Some kind of fight, perhaps? A few of them seemed injured, but that went without saying. He ignored the scene and approached the barkeep, producing a handful of euros from his $1,000 Gucci™ wallet and setting them on the counter. The injured, weary looks about the others in the bar were a curious case, though he'd grown up knowing not to bat an eye (much less ask questions) in a place like this. Quietly, he gestured to the bottle of Русский Стандарт on display behind the man. Hugo much preferred champagne, but vodka was always a close second.

Almost as if he were blissfully unaware of the fight that had occurred outside, Zoltan retrieved the bottle in question, promptly pouring Hugo a glass. To anyone with a watchful eye, it became evident that Zoltan seemed to be hiding his fear with a stoic demeanor: a slight shake of his hand and slow step meant that he was still trying to process things in his mind. Obviously, two killer robots from outer space attacking a place as obscure as Grestol would likely warrant a similar response from anyone—if they didn’t run away screaming, that is.

Casitov watched the man enter the bar, making no response. Misha remained in the corner of the bar, pacing back and forwards with his index and middle finger to his ear, apparently talking to someone of superior rank in rapid=fire Russian, otherwise unintelligible to Hugo aside from the simple “yes” and “no” words. Figuring he was otherwise out of the conversation, Casitov turned back to his own bottle, which remained half-empty from when he last had it. Drinking wasn’t the best thing to do to keep healthy, nor did it look good for PR, but it was the only thing he had to numb the pain from the robots. After all, they had responded to his own blows with those of equivalent power—power which, quite frankly, Casitov had never fought before.

Hugo's eyes carefully analyzed the room as he sipped his bottle, noting the presence of Casitov. The man was one of the UN team's world-class heroes — Hugo could recognize him in an instant. What a curious set of individuals in this place, He thought to himself, finishing his glass after a few minutes. The television was playing some television show which was near-incomprehensible due to the terrible quality, scenes of action being constantly interrupted by bouts of distortion and static. He could recognize the show, however — it was some show called Summer With You, some American production about teens with superpowers. It surprised him such a show was broadcasting out in the middle of nowhere, but it was an over-saturated teen-oriented flick in a hypersaturated market, after all.

It was at this time that Misha then turned around, finally noticing the newcomer in the bar. Visibly irritated, he lowered his arm and strode over to Casitov’s side, viewing the man crossly. “I had word from my superiors that all the civilians would be evacuating. So, why is he here?”

“Obviously, our friend seems quite.. out of place.” Casitov, switching to English, redirected his gaze to Hugo. “Why don’t you ask him yourself, in English?”

Reluctantly, Misha did so. “You must not have been given the order to evacuate. Unless you can fight, have powers, or just want to die from two killer robots, I would advise you to leave, sir.”

Of course, in the back of his mind, Misha knew he and the rest of the Kaspersy Unit needed as much help as he could possibly muster, whether it was Ivan’s ragtag gang of militia or the local Russian Ground Forces garrison, which was probably more equipped to deal with heavy snow than it was extraterrestrial threats.

"It depends on what you mean by powers, mon ami.." Hugo turned to look to the man who'd spoken, lowering his teashade glasses with flamboyant grace.

Misha grimaced slightly, understanding what he was implying. “So, that is a yes. I’ll have to inform my superior.”

Ivan had successfully slipped out from the militia group, with the created illusion of himself successfully fooling the rest of the militia members to think that he was just sitting around, smoking, and minding his own business. He thought that if he stayed with the militia group and the Russian Ground Forces, it would certainly pose great danger to him. Surely, fighting alongside Casitov would give him a better chance at efficiently putting down the mechanical threats.

Ivan swung the door wildly and entered the bar, causing the temperature inside the bar to rapidly drop as Ivan started walking in. He noticed a new face and was surprised, thinking of why a man would wear thin flamboyant clothes in the winter. He quickly turned his gaze to his side, noticing the wounded Casitov and informally saluted him.

“Impressive show, chief,” Ivan commented as he was looked at Casitov’s wounds, Ivan thought that an average person would’ve died if he were to fight those mechanical killing machines head-on like Casitov. Impressive work for a human, so he thought. Despite thinking that Casitov is the strongest among all the people inside the bar, he couldn’t also ignore the strong pressure emitted by the flamboyant Chinese man with a peculiar choice of clothing.

The new arrival caught Hugo's gaze, and he carefully studied the man. He could perceive by the man's nature (or better put, 氣息) that he was 殭屍, a curious matter he had studied from the Eternity Scroll's archive. A few jokes ran through Hugo's head, namely "a vampire walks into a bar..." but he did not speak.

"這個人四周散發著令人不安的氣息. 從他散發的氣息上看，眼前的這個"人"，恐怕並非善類 ... " Hugo thought.

Ivan slowly walked towards Zoltan and gestured to the last bottle of the Русский Стандарт Vodka, also spending the last Rubles left in his wrinkly wallet. As Zoltan slowly handed him the bottle, the stoic barkeeper asked, “Сэр, вы хотите, чтобы я открыл это для вас?”

“Нет,” Ivan replied as he leaned forward and grabbed the bottle. Using his thumb, he snapped the vodka’s bottleneck off the bottle, sending it outside through the broken window. Ivan then chugged the contents entirely. The display had certainly caught Hugo's attention, who slightly lowered his teashade glasses, intrigued at his display of strength. Him being closer only served to confirm his suspicions that the man was, indeed, 殭屍.

After finishing the bottle, he turned towards Casitov and conversed in English, “Well, are we gonna recycle scrap metal now or what?” He paused for a while then continued, “If you wanna ask, my name’s Ivan.”

“Casitov. Igor Casitov.” The Mammoth nodded. You may already know me. This young man is Misha. And what of you, strange newcomer? What is your name?” Mammoth stoically asked, clearly hiding his surprise that the apparent normal looking militia member just effortlessly snapped a bottleneck, much more sent it flying outside the bar.

"Hugo Holydiver Henderson." Hugo replied. Certainly, it was an equally bizarre name for an equally bizarre arrival. This strange name also left a weird impression on Ivan as it seems Chinese names changed since the last time he visited the country a few century ago.

__________________________________

The most stressful part of any mission was waiting on hearing back about what it was you were going up against. Given Grestol’s remote and relatively peaceful location, most missions were harmless in nature—usually a routine patrol up the hill near the Radio tower or in the forest would happen. Nothing out of the ordinary—unless a rogue superhuman or one hired by the Mob showed up for any random reason, at which point they would respond with the T-90MS. The Russian T-90MS main battle tank was well-equipped for most opponents, human or otherwise — thus far.

However, Grestol’s Russian Ground Forces garrison had no operating procedure for events of this vein, meaning they had to deploy everything they had, including the T-90MS, a BTR-70 and a dedicated Hind, whose callsign was simply Condor. Kozar, one of the senior sergeants in the garrison, was given the task of leading his section through the forest and finding the robots. It was a simple search and destroy mission..so why did it seem so daunting that they were the ones going in?

Kozar’s superior, just ahead of him on the formation, began to speak into his radio. "No visual on the hostiles. Condor, return to the RV point for another pass overhead. How cop—"

From above, a crash caused the soldiers to whip their head up to the sight of the falling Hind, which had half its tail missing as thick smoke belched from a sizable hole in its fuselage. Someone from the back then began to scream out loud. "ебля ебать! INCOMING! LEEEFFT!!!"

The response was immediate and deafening—a purple lance of death cut through the forest and punched through the tank, detonating against its reactive armor and sending Kozar and a few nearby soldiers flying as the rest, who were lucky enough to be caught near the explosion instead of inside it, rushed to reorganize. While Kozar screamed for everyone to get to dive for cover, he saw that the robots seemed to attack so quickly.. almost without hesitation, as if they were planning this. It seemed foolish to think that two walking rust-buckets could’ve planned this entire ambush out, but everything was adding up to make it seem like it was, in fact, predicted. He figured that he was he was simply caught off guard in this moment and rolled over onto his stomach to push himself up from the snow...

...before thinking about their second options... maybe they were headed into a death trap like he predicted. Maybe there wasn't any use in taking on the aliens up close like they were now. After all, they were better off bugging out anyways.

Tch. Am I doubting myself? He swore silently to himself as he pushed himself up onto his feet, picking his AK-12 back from off the ground. With his superior still disoriented, he took initiative, waving his arm in the air to rally the others. "Everyone, on your feet! Get moving to cover and fire back!" He shouted into his helmet's microphone, raising his weapon as the tank, miraculously operational, moved in to attack whatever was coming at them from the left flank. The T-90MS by him moved into position, aiming its cannon downrange through the trees at anything that moved. Anything not spotted visually would undoubtedly be detected by the 4 video cameras on the tank, which provided a 360° view of the environment, as well as the upgraded thermal imager, capable of detecting tanks, humans, or superhumans from over 3300 meters away. At this moment, they were the gods, and had the most firepower.

He could barely make it out, but the outline of two robotic figures whose size rivaled The Mammmoth himself had broken out of the trees, highlighted in bright red on everyone's HUDs as he raised his weapon up.

Then, everyone began to fire, a veritable wall of glowing red tracer rounds, grenades, and RPGs peppering the incoming hostiles to little effect as the the robots tore through the trees, sprinting right towards them.

__________________________________

PLEX’s plan was coming together like a fine piece of code. Luring the local security forces into a trap, and using said trap as bait for the real trap was a brilliant plan in CORE’s book. Perhaps the enemy was too stupid to realize that they were heading into an obvious trap, wasting a flying machine and two armored vehicle on them. Still, it meant free kills, and that was always good.

<\Their use of armored vehicles are interesting.
>>TACTICAL UPDATE: THEY OUTNUMBER US 
<\If it was not obvious already, CORE.
>>HAVE FAITH, BROTHER
>>45 LIGHTLY-ARMED MEATBAGS ARE NOT ANYTHING TO WORRY ABOUT
>>NEITHER ARE TWO ARMORED VEHICLES AND A FLYING MACHINE
<\The "Mammoth" is. He had dented our armor plating in our previous altercation.
<\Undoubtedly, our actions will draw them here.
>>THAT IS THE PLAN.
>>MAKE THEM THINK THAT THEY ARE RESPONDING TO AN AMBUSH
>>THEN TRAP THEM ALL 
>>WE NOW KNOW HOW THEY FIGHT
<\And we shall use it against them.

Their logic, when connected to each other, allowed for the exchange of data and information at speeds creatures like humans would otherwise see as instantaneous. Thus, both Enforcers were already aware of the enemy and their movements before they were aware of the brothers, using simple math calculations to determine a range where they could not only fire out of their enemy’s visual range, but also could adjust their position after firing: a tactic they’d learned known as “scoot and shoot.”

Both Enforcers had positioned themselves in a rather simple manner: one on each side of their enemy’s path, allowing them to form a pincer and close in the enemy—and any reinforcements they had—into a box. It was CORE’s idea, meaning that it was simple, yes, but allowed for the easy and efficient killing of the enemy, which was crucial in a moment like this, where time mattered.

Once the enemy was in position, their plan was executed: CORE fired a dark matter beam off at the tank, striking its reactive armor, while the ensuing blast flung nearby humans away, if not incinerating others close by. This was promptly followed up with a charge as all of their firepower focused in on CORE, who remained impervious to most of it, albeit slightly staggering in his step when explosions from the RPG hit his armor.

Just as anticipated, they were stupid as ever, only watching the left flank and focusing all their firepower on that direction. By the time PLEX came out of the treeline on the right flank, when the enemy realized that those “two” figures on the right flank was actually CORE trying to split his thermal signature, it was too late.

A hook-like appendage formed on PLEX’s right arm as he skewered the tank, following up with a point-blank blast, producing a large purpley explosion on the right armored skirt. The beam ripped through the other side, undoubtedly setting off other explosions from the ammunition as the beam shot past, careening into the trees. A swipe of his hand launched more of the soldiers away, while he aimed his arm-cannon at a new target: the helicopter hovering above.

__________________________________

Mid-talk, Misha suddenly pulled away from Casitov, Ivan, and Hugo, covering his ears as he listened in to what his superiors had to say. From the looks on his face, they both could see that the news could only be thought of as harrowing. “What now, comrade? I am tired of waiting here for this ‘backup.’ Are we going to fight them ourselves? Must I do it myself?” Ironically, Casitov had originally been the one that suggested they wait and see what the military had planned for them. But according to Misha’s expressions, it didn’t look any good...

Hugo looked at the two men. Competence, at least towards whatever they were up against, did not seem the strong suit of this group. "So, who are these individuals we seem to be... 'fighting'?" Hugo asked in English. He could assume that much that they were fighting someone of notable strength — if he were to miss the expo in Novosibirsk, he might as well make the best of it and see some action. After all, it was best to keep himself in peak condition.

Ivan observed the two men seem to be in a dilemma while also having had a slight idea of what the weaker boy seem to have been whispering about thanks to his acute sense of hearing. Ivan thought that backup wouldn’t be any of use and he had an idea that he should form up a trio with the Mammoth and the flamboyant Chinaman inside the bar in order to dispose of the mechanical threat themselves. Although, he kept silent and waited for more interesting things to transpire.

“Something not from world.” Casitov explained. “The best I can describe them are robots. There are two of them, one with red light, and one with blue light. In my years of being on the United Champions,^[1] I have never seen anything quite like them. They adapted to my strength and fighting style. They seem to be able to learn from their opponent.”

“My superior tells me they were noted using what appeared to be dark matter weapons in Fresno,” Misha added, before returning to his own devices.

"Alien robots from outer space," A smile creeped upon the edge of Hugo's lips. By God can you imagine it. Aliens from outer space, that just so happen to be robots .. one colored red and the other blue. I bet one complements the other's abilities, too. He set his glass down (he'd had another since he'd arrived), glass meeting the wood counter a bit harder than the last time. Perhaps it was a little difficult for him to take the concept seriously — but he knew something they did not. "外星人啊? 這下子我真是什麼都見過了. 果然天下之大，無奇不有啊..." He muttered to himself.

“As stupid as it sounds, they are real.” Casitov continued to rub the area where he had been slugged by one of the robots. “Even I, Mammoth, with my power, think they are a considerable threat.”

“Aliens? What a load of crap.” Ivan muttered to himself. Ivan silently rejected the idea of robotic aliens and thought that the robotic pair was a new dumb experiment done by a wacky Japanese corporation who could afford to waste their money on new childish toys. But then, he also have doubts on his initial conclusion, maybe the possibility of aliens existing is possible, as he considered his status as a four century old vampire.

"And we are the... 'reinforcements'?" Hugo asked, curious at the rather suicidal task at hand. He certainly had not fought an alien before, much less an alien robot — it was fair to assume they were stronger than the average Parisian thug.

Casitov opened his mouth to speak on that matter, but saw that Misha was already on it once he lowered his hand from his ear. He moved over to the bar to grab his rifle, which was a large, boxy contraption that seemingly was only suitable in the hands of someone like him, in full armor. Lowering his rifle, he addressed the others in the bar currently, save for Zoltan. “It seems so. My superiors have told me that we are the only ones close enough to respond in time. The regular military has already engaged them in the forest, and they’ll stall them for long enough for us to arrive and finish the job. My unit will help us in this operation and is bound to arrive here by helicopter any moment now.”

This warranted a chuckle from Hugo. While he hadn't revealed his abilities, he certainly did seem ready to the Russians — which was either stupidity, an excess in confidence or some terrible combination thereof. This warranted some worry from Misha, who otherwise thought the man was powerless. If he, supposedly, was confident in his abilities to fight, the help would be appreciated. Other than that, they needed all the help they could get to defeat those robots.

Ivan didn’t seem to care and lit a cigarette, minding his own business. He simply waited for the interesting stuff to happen while the strange people seemed to have a quasi-intellectual conversation that he couldn’t be much bothered to add in.

Outside, the sound of an approaching helicopter was heard—presumably, their ride to the forest was here. The Hind came in for a landing in the now-vacant parking lot, touching down not too far from the inn. Snow blew up from the sides of its dark figure as men in similar armor to Misha’s filed out, securing the area around the helicopter upon their landing.

Upon closer inspection, however, it wasn’t that difficult to see the helicopter was.. Different. It carried harsher angles and flat surfaces—features one would only find on a figher jet, not a helicopter. In addition, a directed energy weapon—undoubtedly supplied by the Grey Arms Corporation—^[2] was mounted on the nose gun, used specifically for dealing with superhuman threats. To those inclined to have an interest in military equipment, the helicopter was, at this point, practically a different aircraft than a regular Hind.

"Certainly not the worst I've flown aboard," Hugo looked at the improved Mi-24, bearing more semblance in stylistic design to a fifth-generation fighter rather than the typical aging Mi-24 airframes. It might have perhaps looked 'cool', but even Hugo, in his vanity, could see the thing was a massive waste of money — especially if one of these 'robots' were to effortlessly destroy it.

“Well, you first. Ha ha!” Casitov heartily chuckled as they made their way towards the helicopter. Despite his size, he managed to fit in to the aircraft—albeit needing to squeeze past a few of the other soldiers, whereas Misha, Ivan, and the others, filled in to wherever they could. It quickly took off from the parking lot, leaving the bar and the town behind as they made their way towards the forests in the background of Grestol. After activating the EW jammer, the helicopter continued on its path, keeping at a low altitude as to lower its profile. By now, there was no turning back—they were going in to destroy the killer robots, and end their rampage, once and for all..

[Turmenista]

This is Part 2 of 2 of a collaborative post between Valefontaine, Turmenista and Tyr

Hugo Holydiver Henderson feat. Max Grünewald Ivan Morezov, Misha Kasaprov, and Igor Casitov, aka “The Mammoth”
Guest Starring: CORE and PLEX
Grestol, Russia
__________________________________

“So, this is the Kaspersy unit,” Ivan muttered to himself. A certain organization Ivan was a part of did talk about this unit briefly during his operational briefing for his reconnaissance mission in Russia. Although, it’s a shame that he couldn’t be much bothered to take important notes about this unit during the briefing. Although, their future performance against the alien killing machines would be good enough information to bring back to the organization back in the United States.

Hugo maintained quiet aboard the helicopter, arms crossed as he kept his eyes set on the windows. He still had not yet revealed just what he could even do, which only served to confuse and further incur curiosity upon the others. After a couple of minutes had passed, the helicopter began its final approach towards their destination. Something was said in Russian by one of the presumed leaders of the group, making Casitov sit up in his seat while the sounds of safeties flicking off filled the cabin. Misha’s helmet, previously disassembled neatly in the neck area of his armor, quickly assembled itself over his head—a sight that even Casitov couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at. Just how far had Russian technology progressed? Was it from the technopaths that it enlisted, or through other means?

One of the Kaspersy Unit operatives offered Hugo an OTs-14 Groza, an archaic and ugly firearm—but a reliable one—in most people’s opinions. "飞花摘叶皆可伤人..." Hugo shook his head, keeping his arms crossed. What kind of man would refuse a weapon?

“If you say so.” The soldier rolled his eyes and put away the weapon. It was practically suicide going in without any weapon—granted, you weren’t a superhuman—so the question remained: why did Hugo seem so at odds going in without any weapon? Obviously, it didn’t seem like he had the raw physical characteristics to back himself up like Casitov did, so what else was there to this man that they didn’t know?

The helicopter touched down onto the ground, its side doors sliding open to let the Kaspersy Unit, the militia, and the United Champion out onto the snowy ground. Once again, the soldiers fanned out silently while Casitov and the others took position behind them, listening for any sign of fighting.

The soldiers fanned out, taking positions amidst the trees and snow, guns aimed about. Some of the more well-prepared men had modifications to their Kalashnikov-series rifles intended for identifying and pacifying metahuman threats — from non-lethal laser dazzlers to proximity detectors. Hugo almost stifled a chuckle at the sight as he stood, carefully watching the scene about to transpire. Certainly, if his studies on such matters were correct, a dazzler would definitely be able to cause difficulties for the vision of these two robots. Yet a clever tool meant nothing in the hands of a foolish operator. These men would undoubtedly panic the moment the two machines showed their faces.

"这样的宝贝交给这群怂包，真是糟蹋了..." Hugo thought to himself, watching with a grim expression as the soldiers pushed further into the forest.

Gunfire at the scene was still sporadic, presumably from what remained of the men who'd found themselves ambushed earlier.

"Руса́лка-1, what's the situation?" One of the men barked questions into his radio.

/// [RUFOR] - [Руса́лка Team] - [Руса́лка-1] [♀] /// - "Looks to be clear. I'm moving up." A female voice responded on the radio.

/// [RUFOR] - [Руса́лка Team] - [Руса́лка-1] [♀] /// - "Shit. This must've been the other force. Whoever this is — has killed... at least half of them... We've found the tank. God, it's almost been cut in half.. this is—"

Hugo instinctively looked up as he felt a sharp gust of wind amidst the trees, though he did not move from where he stood. He could feel two presences — or rather their cold, mechanical lack thereof, soaring through the forest.

/// [RUFOR] - [курга́н Team] - [курга́н-1] [♂] /// - "Oh shit! They're back!"

/// [RUFOR] - [Руса́лка Team] - [Руса́лка-1] [♀] /// - "Fuck! Both enemies! Two of them, I—AHHHH—"

An unnatural noise emanated through the forest as a bright purple light coursed through the treeline — it took a few seconds before several trees actually fell, their trunks thermically cut with incredible precision. Gunfire erupted as the Russian team hurriedly tried to bring down the two robots, firing madly at their humanoid figures as they moved about through the woods.

Laser dazzlers were somewhat effective — though none of the men could keep up with the swift movements of CORE and PLEX to keep either of the machines 'stunned' for long. The fact most of them were trembling in fear didn't help, either.

Hugo observed the scene, curious — the red one (judging by the panicked speech of the Russians, it was named CORE) seemed to have a capacity to 'absorb' energy, simply opening its chest cavity to take in the energy from explosions and energy weapons. The other, PLEX, seemed to be a rather devious tactician, tending to have a preference to go around his individual opponents and flank them — occasionally he'd bluff with them, toying with them like a predator would with defenseless prey. Once the golden flash came from the blue light on his “head,” PLEX undoubtedly would’ve assessed his target, coming up with a strategy exclusively for defeating them.

/// [RUFOR] - [Руса́лка Team] - [Руса́лка-1] [♀] /// - "We're just prey to these— to these THINGS! Oh God— HELP! THEY GRABBED MIKHAIL! AAAHH—"

A terrible crack sounded out, which almost distracted Hugo — a Russian soldier, thrown to a nearby tree. Undoubtedly, the man's spine had snapped instantly as he struck the tree back-first. The Kaspersy operatives continued shooting from their concealed positions, practically unfazed from the massacre of their GI counterparts.

"Such incompetence..." Hugo quietly noted, watching the scene transpire. Ivan was within earshot, and had surely heard him remark on the rather grim performance of the Russian soldiers.

"就看着这群蠢货去死吧," Ivan commented in Chinese as he looked at Hugo.

A series of loud shots echoed through the woods as a BTR-70, presumably from the previous team, fired away at the two machines. With another loud screech, almost akin to that of a jet engine's, the two menacing robots were gone. In another few seconds, they were back — a bright purple flash cleanly cutting in half several rows of trees in the process.

"Their movement is far too fast for rifles to do the job," Hugo noted. He could tell this 'Ivan' fellow was of similarly notable standing to himself, at least on the aspect of power. Greater, even — but in this matter, against a non-organic opponent, Hugo held a single advantage — Chi. "Perchance the footsoldiers failed to consider the idea of 'letting them come to you'. Not that one can expect proper thinking and coordination in a panic like this, anyway. Your name.. Ivan, was it?" He asked, turning to Ivan. He had no doubt by the man's own cold aura that he was 殭屍, but it seemed he wasn't as most legends claimed such beings to be. Yet he remained slightly guarded before him, knowing full well of the legends and stories.

“These metal runts are not going down anytime soon. At least, if they’re up against these unprepared rag-tag group of men,” Ivan scoffed in English. While Ivan calmly chatted with this so called 'Hugo’, as the soldiers around the, were dropping like flies. Ivan could sense that this man shouldn't be treated lightly, considering their powers are on par with each other. “Ivan yes, that's me, why?” he adds with a slight stutter, as if he has forgotten his name.

"I see." Hugo nodded. "I look forward to saving these idiots with you."

When the light had died down, it became visibly evident that CORE had immobilized the BTR-70, the armored personnel carrier's 12.7 mm DShK desperately firing away at the robotic killing machine. PLEX emerged over the treeline, producing a hook-like appendage and descending upon the Russian armored vehicle. Ripping through the vehicle's turret, brief gunfire could be heard from the vehicle — then a few screams and otherworldly cutting sounds before an ominous, but brief silence fell over the soldiers (before swiftly resuming once more).

/// [RUFOR] - [Руса́лка Team] - [Руса́лка-1] [♀] /// - "This is hopeless! Run!"

A few of the Russians hurried back up the hill, visibly terrified of how quickly they'd, in more western terms, 'had their asses handed to them' by CORE and PLEX. Hugo watched one of the Russian soldiers approach, still a hysterical mess. Hugo could fairly estimate she was the one screaming in the radio. The terrified look on her face, the screaming— for a moment, he was vaguely reminded of his sister's screams on that fateful day he'd lost everything he'd known. What a terrible affair it'd been. He was sure not to lose his cool when overcome by these memories, but it was enough of a cue to spring into action. After all, he'd studied CORE and PLEX's movements, understanding the general 'method' to the madness of the two algorithmic minds — picking up hints and patterns a band of terrified grunts wouldn't notice — the pattern was incredibly adaptive, that was the point: relying on the enemy's belligerency to emulate, mimic and counter their moveset and methodology. PLEX would be his ideal target, seemingly unable to shield himself from energy-based attacks, unlike his 'brother' CORE. CORE would mandate a more offensive strategy (an inherent weakness in engaging either of these two devious automatons) that would avoid the energy-absorbing countermeasure device situated in his chest cavity.

On the other hand, Ivan was quite familiar with what fear was like in the battlefield. Keeping his cool despite the hopeless screams of the Russian soldiers, he calmly analyzed the threat before. Like Hugo, he had also figured out how these machines think, or at least how they’re programmed to act. Ivan concluded that he's going to hunt down CORE, seeing it as the scrap metal who'd most likely be tricked by his unconventional strategies, while the so called PLEX seemed to be quite analytical for his tastes.

"骰子已被擲出." Hugo lunged upward through the usage of 轻功, poised to enter the fight. He'd ascended practically twenty feet into the air, hoisting himself onto one of the tree trunks before conducting another seemingly 'superhuman' leap overhead. He leapt from tree to tree until he'd made it to the epicenter of the fighting, landing feet-first into the snow with impressive form and agility. This had certainly garnered the attention of both the robots and the other members of the team, who had up to now been unaware of Hugo's abilities — or perhaps he was superhuman and suicidal.

Casitov saw this, flexing his muscles in anticipation for what was otherwise a demonstration of his full power. Whipping his head around to Misha, he whistled to grab his attention. “Our friend is moving, comrade! I’ll draw the attention of the red one - keep on them both!”

“You heard him. Go!” The GRU operatives moved as a fluid formation, aiming their larger-caliber weapons at the two robotic beings. Meanwhile, Casitov had charged at full power and speed towards CORE, the ground practically pushing away against his feet as he bellowed, catching the attention of CORE. PLEX, meanwhile, inquisitively monitored Hugo, casting a golden light from his “head,” ..which then turned into a deep red, and back to blue. Evidently, he’d hit an error in his threat assessment, not knowing what “Chi” was at all.

They merged their logic once more, having all the time in the world to discuss their plans. Again, conversations took place in seconds among the Enforcers, who were constantly sharing information about the fighters and their abilities.

<\No data on this one.
<\It appears the “Mammoth” has targeted you.
>>I SHALL MONITOR HIS MOVEMENTS
>>RELAYING DATA TO YOU
>>AND WHAT OF THE OTHERS?
<\Data has been found, albeit encrypted, of the “Ivan.” Abilities unknown.
<\The new humans appear to be partisans of some sort.
<\The armored ones, however, have no documentation whatsoever.
<\High-caliber weaponry has been identified.
>>THEN THEY ARE OF NO SIGNIFICANT THREAT TO US
>>OUR ARMOR IS IMPERVIOUS TO THEIR BULLETS.
<\You should be impervious to this punch.

Snapping his “head” over to the incoming superhuman, CORE realized what PLEX had meant, and reacted too late. Despite his movements being fast, Casitov had him trumped in terms of agility, easily moving his way to the back of his opponent, where he grabbed onto his robotic counterpart, planting his feet in the ground. It was a classic wrestling move—however, CORE had mirrored it, leading to a rather machismo grapple of control in their section of the forest. Punches on both sides were exchanged at impressive speeds for such large people. Finally, CORE lifted the man up and lobbed him away after executing a successful combo, causing Casitov’s nearly 300 pound figure to sail for several feet through the air, into a nearby tree.

He saw CORE’s arm morph into a cannon, where it began to charge. Deciding he was in no room to try and dodge the incoming attack, the Mammoth balled his right fist, exhaling deeply as he channeled as much willpower as he could into his hand, before fanning out his palm and swinging upwards just as the beam would’ve hit him.

CLAP

As if the beam had reflected off a mirror, it bounced up and over him, sailing high off into the sky. Unfortunately, he also came to the realization that his hand had taken the brunt of the impact, blistered and red as if it had just been dipped into boiling water, but still operational. Nonetheless, he was alive—albeit in pain—and he now knew one of the weaknesses of the robots.

“Let’s play a lil’ game, scrap metal runt,” Ivan declared after picking up a grenade from one of the dead soldiers and a round shaped rock that had decent weight. At the cost of Casitov’s injuries, Ivan had already thoroughly analyzed how the Enforcer operated and he thought that he could certainly beat CORE alone. However, he was still unsure if the robots would be tricked by his illusions, he decided to take a gamble anyway. He needed the illusions to put CORE in a position where he could effective hit him with the grenade.

CORE bobbed his head over to Ivan as gunfire plinked off his armor plating, which had begun to change in texture as the gunfire increased. He snapped down towards Ivan, revealing a second arm-cannon.

Ivan materialized six illusions of himself, just in front of CORE and used to them to distract the Enforcer. Luckily for Ivan, CORE’s algorithm perceived the illusions as “Ivan” and the Enforcer began to swing wildly at the illusions. It was an entertaining sight for Ivan as CORE’s attack would simply phase through the illusions, confusing CORE’s systems.

He decided to put machine’s to another test as he pulled the pin of the first grenade. As if it was a baseball pitch, he hurled the grenade towards CORE. The throw was done in a controlled manner in order for the grenade to coordinate its detonation the moment it's within effective range to damage CORE. He also utilized his telekinetic powers to carefully control the grenade trajectory.

The futility of such attack was similar as the attacks done earlier by the soldiers, with CORE’s Threat Absorption Device quickly activated and absorbed the explosion. This was the result that Ivan wanted to see, as he grabbed the rock and prepared to throw it.

Ivan gripped the rock and poised himself to throw it at a very high speed. Focusing much power to his hips and legs, he hurled the rock at elevated angle towards the Enforcer. He used his telekinetic powers to increase the rock’s topspin, reducing air resistance and increasing its velocity as the projectile dives towards CORE with an intensely high kinetic energy.

WHA-BOOM

CORE’s body, in a manner that was quite comical relative to his size, flew off the ground and slammed into a nearby tree. Appropriately confused, he noticed a rather sizable dent on his side, which would obviously compromise some of his more fragile internal systems. In response, both arm-cannons aimed at Ivan, and CORE prepared to simply blow him away.

As CORE was channeling his energy attack, Ivan quickly created a visual illusion of himself in his current position as he quickly sidestepped to the side. Luckily for him, CORE's AI targeted the illusion, shooting the high power energy beam towards the direction. The energy beam passed through the illusion, carving a large hole to a tree behind it…

..but Ivan seemed to have been fooled as well. CORE, still firing the beam, cast it to the side and simply sliced off the trunks from their roots, cutting off the beam once the tree trunks began to fall for the man.

Ivan quickly realizes that the trunk was falling towards his direction and he quickly steps to his side, barely avoiding the impact. Under the cover of the dust, he picks up another rock and casts around five illusions of himself holding a rock, spreading the other four as from himself and each other. Simultaneously with his illusions, Ivan hurls another high velocity rock towards CORE.

Meanwhile, Hugo stood idly in the snow, leaping to the vantage point of the tank for no particular reason. Machine-minds were oppressively analytical, lacking the rational (and simultaneously irrational) depth of the human spirit. Movement was limited, but erratic when done — he had no real strategic reason, in the machine's deduction, to relocate from the open position in the snow to the equally open position atop the tank — vantage points didn't matter, as Hugo held no weapons about him. Now atop the charred turret of the T-90 tank, he awaited PLEX's move. Little did the robot know that he, too, had been observing, deducing and analyzing long before they had even crossed paths.

<\Target appears to be highly mobile.
>>THAT WOULD BE A DISADVANTAGE
<\I disagree.

Deciding to finally test the man’s mobility, the plates on PLEX’s armor moved as he planted himself firmly in the ground. Both of his arms had morphed into cannons—his right aimed at Hugo, while the other was prepared to lead the man and fire ahead of the man’s movements, perhaps in anticipation of a dodge.

The dark matter beam from his right arm fired at once—a concentrated purple-black beam of destruction headed straight for Hugo while the other prepared to fire in anticipation for a dodge.

Hugo leaped off the tank, but not before the destroyed machine's IR dazzler seemed to bend, damage and dents seemingly disappearing in a matter of seconds before PLEX had been blinded by the dazzler's sheer strength. In 'normal' occasions, such a mechanism would be used for screwing with IR-guided missiles. Hugo seemed to recognize that, to some degree, it probably would blind a machine. Hugo touched down in the snow, charging his blind opponent and sending his right arm shooting forward and meeting the machine-being's chest. The beam flew right where Hugo had once stood on the tank, dissolving several trees behind it.

"Humans and machines are not too far apart," Hugo spoke. "Our nerves and blood vessel — your wires. Electrons course through our body — and yours as well... and that's your weakness! My 气 can be used by any living being that so chooses to learn it — and it means I can do something you machines can't." A burst of 气 erupted from Hugo's hand just as the machine regained its vision, coursing through its metallic frame, wires and circuitry.

BOOM

In a bright white flash, PLEX flew backwards at incredible speed, shredding through the forest as it flew back, sparks flying from practically every section of its machine-frame. It landed roughly in the snow, having paved a path of destroyed trees in its backward trajectory. Hugo stood idle in the snow, watching his opponent from across the treeline.

<\ERR- {Traceback.SyntaxError: most recent call.
<\{Traceback.SystemError: invalid.storage = “POWER STORAGE OVERLOAD”
>>I SEE.
>>CALCULATING KINETIC ENERGY STORAGE: ... ...  ... 82%

Bending his leg articulators, a blue-white explosion shot the lower half of CORE’s body, as the kinetic energy stored up in his TAD had amassed to such a high level that it was possible for him to dodge. Quite literally, he had blasted up and over the treeline, glowing red tracers slicing through the air after him as he plummeted like an anvil towards the forest.

Misha pointed up towards the incoming Enforcer, lifting his rifle up to aim at him. “There he is!”

The color quickly drained from their faces as CORE’s arm suddenly snapped in their direction, as soon as Casitov began to sprint towards the falling robot. He prepared to leap up and deflect the beam once more, but was too slow to do so—a concentrated beam of purple death shot past his shoulder and towards Misha’s position, resulting in a powerful explosion that enveloped the Kaspersy Unit’s fortified position. Misha’s radio chatter abruptly cut off as the Mammoth landed on the ground with a thunderous boom, whipping his head up towards the incoming robot. He feared the worst had happened to Misha, but didn’t bother to turn around, as time was running out for them. “HUGO, RUN!”

“What the hell? Thing simply got hit by a rock twice and it decides to leave me alone and choose another target?” Ivan muttered disappointedly as he lunges towards the direction of Hugo.

This one must be coming towards me. Hugo thought to himself, hearing the explosion. Standing idle, he waited for the second machine to come his way. Were the two opponents brothers, perhaps? Such curious thoughts would surely keep him up at night for weeks to come. More subtly, 气 coursed downward, accumulating in the snow beneath him.

Surging upward with 轻功, Hugo launched himself forward into the trees as CORE came down upon his position, grabbing onto a branch and watching from above. He breathed carefully and methodically as he regained his bearings. Certainly it'd been a close call — and without a doubt, CORE was more formidable than PLEX, at least for him.

Snow, dirt, and debris flew up as CORE landed, promptly stepping out of the crater. He scanned the area ferociously, waving an arm-cannon and one free arm around the area, the latter of which had been outfitted now with sharpened claw-like blades.

>>REPORT ENEMY POSITION
<\ERR- {Traceback.SyntaxError: most recent call.
<\{Traceback.SystemError: invalid.data = “UNKNOWN”
>>I SEE. INITIATE THREAT ASSESSMENT SCAN. 
<\ERR- {Traceback.SyntaxError: most recent call.
<\{Traceback.SystemError: invalid.func = “PROCESSING”

As of now, the most grim of outcomes had befallen CORE: PLEX was overloaded and busy trying to level out his energy reserves. This meant he was effectively blind and down one man..which meant he was, yet again, outnumbered four to one. However, just as Ivan arrived, he decided to observe the fight once more.

His chest mechanism opened up as he scanned the treeline with his arm-cannon, once again ignoring the bullets pinging off of his armor. Trudging through the snow, he suddenly heard a strange, otherworldy 'click' beneath his mechanical feet.

BOOM

CORE was suddenly overcome with a flash of white light that sent him flying forward, colliding into a rather large tree — cracking it in half in the process. His TAD had managed to absorb some of the sudden, overwhelming burst of energy that'd erupted beneath him, causing the energy to swirl into the robot’s chest — but for the most part, he'd been practically caught by surprise by the blast. Was this the ability of the mysterious man the Russians had brought with them?

Faced with an overwhelming amount of energy now in his system, CORE quickly began to try and “vent out” the excess in any way he could think of. His armor clicked as he contorted into a strange geometric shape—more cannons appeared around his body, blindly discharging the spare 气 energy around the battlefield in the form of golden beams. Being a machine, however, he could not channel the strange new energy correctly. More trees fell around them, though, nothing was hit, leaving the area more charred than before. Ivan seemed to be entertained with the machine’s desperation, likening it to an animal fighting back at its best before being hunted down.

Once stable, CORE aggressively turned to Hugo and fired at the tree he'd been balancing himself on moments earlier. It quickly occurred to the machine that Hugo had already leapt down from the trees to stand directly across from him. What was this strange energy this man possessed? Why couldn't he properly use it himself? The figure stood there, silently. He inched his main arm-cannon up slowly, immediately locking onto the man, but waited.

"You've burned the sleeve of my $4,500 Gucci™ flannel jacket," Hugo began. "Prepare to die." He did a pose, bringing his left and right hand forward. "Hadouken!"

There was silence coming from CORE as he thought this over. The man's 'move' confused him. There was no energy from it. Was this some kind of joke? And what was a 'Gucci', anyway?

BOOM

CORE was suddenly struck from several directions all at once — except for his front — as 气 coursed through the snow and struck its target. Then it hit him as he made the calculations in his head: this energy traveled much like electricity would in water. The snow was, essentially, water.

In other words, he was trapped and had nowhere to go.

Sparks flew as the energy shot upward from CORE's mechanical feet, traveling upward until it had reached the machine's head. The blast sent him flying up and away, before landing face-first in the snow.

"Gentlemen, I'll allow you to handle the rest." Hugo announced, leaping back to the nearby slope through a 轻功 surge, presumably to observe CORE's next movements and make deductions accordingly.

“Cool move chief, I’m gonna take over from here.” Ivan announced as he emerged from his entertainment spot. He took over his jacket and gestured an informal salute to Hugo afterwards. “Looks like playtime’s over, metalman.” Ivan confidently declares as he smugly looked at CORE while lunging forward.

As CORE attempted rise up, Ivan kicked the machine’s head down to the ground, forcing CORE’s face back into the ground. Energy wise, CORE was fine, but the constant battering from Hugo, Ivan, and Casitov had worn down his Tacitite frame to its very limits, and he had no real way to adapt to their attacks effectively. Ivan quickly went behind the robot’s back and he went on to pull the machine’s arm backwards, detaching it from the machine’s frame and hurling it far away.

Then, it dawned upon CORE: Ivan had pulled off the biggest mistake he could’ve ever made. Was he unaware of the fact that CORE could function with one arm missing?

No pain was felt as CORE loosened his arm, allowing it to give way to the man’s strength. In that moment, his remaining arm quickly morphed into a blade, his torso rotating around to face Ivan. One slash up, with little resistance, was all that was necessary to sever Ivan’s right arm from his body.

Ivan grunts as he lost balance and falls into the ground surprised, as the machine’s anti-climatic counterattack caught him off guard. Just as he managed to stand up, Ivan can only barely manage to dodge CORE’s increasing barrage of attacks as the machine managed to regain its balance and momentum. As Ivan constantly retreated backwards, he once again lost balance. Even in this desperate situation, Ivan tried to keep his calm and looked for any way he could turn the tides against CORE, utilizing an illusion of Hugo to taunt CORE and divert its attention away from him.

As Ivan looked to his side, CORE’s arm that he torn off was slowly crawling towards him as if it was alive. After it stopped its movements for a seconds, it suddenly launched itself at Ivan and tried to attach itself in place of Ivan’s lost arm, catching him by surprise. As the Tactite arm merged with Ivan’s body, the tactite component began to emulate the form of Ivan’s arm as some sort of a prosthetic. “What the hell?” as he commented

Ivan had no time to lose on surprise at his reformed arm however, as CORE began winding up a melee attack as soon as it stopped its melee offensive. Now with proper balance, Ivan managed to utilize his superior footwork to efficiently dodge the beam charges even as CORE constantly move his arm with the inhumane intention of killing Ivan. CORE managed to mow down a dozen of hardwood trees as he fails to land a single hit on Ivan.

As Ivan dodges the barrage of beam charges on his way towards CORE, He struck CORE with a right cross the moment he was within striking range, putting a massive dent on the machine’s left side. Unconsciously thinking of slicing the machine’s arm off as he was about to punch CORE with a right uppercut, Ivan accidentally morphed his tactite prosthetic arm into a shape of a longsword, which looked awfully similar to a displayed longsword in his castle 400 years ago. Ivan loses his balance and attempts to retreat as soon CORE exploits the time wasted and soon began to counterattack.

CORE also morphed his remaining arm into a giant blade and positioned himself on an offensive stance while Ivan positioned a defensive stance. He knew that Tacitite was capable of negating the adaptation effects of his armor since they were one and the same, so he made sure to take more care with this man. At this point, his Logic was too solely focused on trying to eliminate the man, that he couldn’t even realize his power level was dropping.

As CORE launched himself at Ivan in an attempt to gain an offensive momentum, his attacks were effectively parried by the man every time. CORE’s AI, which was growing impatient at its failure to exterminate Ivan, morphed its arm into a cannon and attempted to blast Ivan to bits at close range. As beam charged up, Ivan charged at CORE and sliced off his arm, causing the energy that was stored to set off and explode.

“That was a good run, chief.” Ivan commented as he tried to form an image of CORE’s cannon in his head, which morphed his arm to a beam cannon that uncontrollably began winding up a beam charge. Powerful energy surged out from Ivan’s arm, slowly melting CORE’s tactite armor and frying his internal components one by one. CORE’s energy packs were also unable to sustain the beam’s heat, causing it to explode and ended the machine’s life once and for all.

As for Ivan, he unknowingly used his blood for that unnecessary show of force and he fell on right knee as he lost strength. He struggled to get the last blood pack from his fur jacket in order to chug its contents in an effort to revitalize himself. As he regained his strength, he went slowly walked towards Hugo’s direction to wave at him. Hugo had watched most of the battle himself, and seemed aptly impressed at the scene.

Meanwhile, Casitov had sprinted over to where Misha and his team once stood, skidding to a halt onto one knee in terror. The mangled bodies of Kaspersy Unit operatives and Russian Soldiers alike were flain across the charred ground, but there remained no evidence of Misha’s existence. He’d simply vanished when he was struck... perhaps even vaporized, by CORE’s powerful arm-blast, all in one fell swoop. It was almost poetic, even. Misha was a ghost, and as mysteriously as he came, so too did he leave.

He stood up from his knee, not turning around to face the mechanical whirring sounds from behind him, for he already knew what they were. Rather, who it was. Hugo and Ivan watched in horror as PLEX inched his way onto his feet, his torso rotating slowly to face them. Casitov stood protectively in front of the duo, balling his fists. “Your kind is mysterious, but you are interesting. Why have you come to Earth? Why Russia? Why us?”

PLEX remained silent as Casitov planted his foot to his side. “Not much of a talker, are you?”

“On-o-onoccasion.” Came the machine’s metallic, synthesized voice, albeit with a stutter. Perhaps that blast of 气 energy had done more to disrupt his systems than they thought it would? “Why are you here, machine? Tell us.”

“Your kind is fickle—interesting-e-e-e.” PLEX mused. “Master assesses threats. I, PLEX, and my brother, CORE, destroy them. I appear to be breaking my own Operational Security Protocols communicating with you, humans.” He suddenly snapped his arm upwards, which morphed into an arm cannon, pointed directly at the Champion and his friends. “However, I calculate this will not matter. I estimate I have an approximate amount of reserve energy remaining to destroy you and your associates.”

“Then this is the end, machine.”

“Indeed.”

The Mammoth was shaken by the machine’s honesty, almost as if it were second nature to him..who was its master? Moreover, if there was a ‘master’ to this machine, this implied that there were more of these.. killer robots, somewhere out in the stars, which could potentially be deployed to Russia, or the entire Earth for that matter. Their operation was simple: locate a significant threat and destroy it, then return home, but as seen here, the machines were very brutal, methodical, and downright effective in their mission. A team in Fresno had been utterly defeated at their hands, practically put on the verge of death were it not for the robots’ sudden departure to Russia during the parade. The thought of an entire planet worth of these machines of destruction coming to Earth in a full invasion frightened him.

But, I will rip each and every one of their cores out, and destroy each and every one. That’s what we Champions are here for. Casitov assumed his signature fighting stance, drawing one of his legs behind himself to create an arc in the snow, as if he were about to blast off in a full on sprint. If this machine’s so-called “master” worked by assessing areas of threat, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad of an idea to give him a good impression of what ticking off Earth would be like.

He balled his fists, planting his feet firmly down as he focused every ounce of strength he had into his muscles. Names flashed in his head as he did so, a sudden surge of power rising up in his soul. John Morgan, Reactor; Katherine Bernard, Hope; Fiona Dawset, Incognito; and Zou Jiao, Solar Flre: these were the names of people that cheered him on—people who, second to his own family, showed him some of the most wholesome examples of compassion and camaraderie, and oversaw his development as not just a champion, but as a person. Most importantly, they were his team. They needed him now to send PLEX back to whatever backwater planet he came from with a message, and he'd do exactly that.

Casitov let out a beastly shout, planting his foot into the ground in front of him and beginning his sprint. The ground shook as he strode, fanning out left hand as his right, the one used for batting away CORE’s beam, remained balled up in a firm fist.

“You made a mistake coming to Mother Russia, сука. Allow me to give you welcome to Earth, and to your death!” He continued shouting, the trees and ground shaking as if a massive beast were sprinting towards its target. PLEX let out a concentrated beam of violet destruction from his arm-cannon, which left behind a deep, charred trench in the ground as it barreled towards the Mammoth. Casitov continued shouting as his fanned out left hand batted away the blast, causing it to harmlessly bounce away like a deflected tank shell, curving into a nearby hill and detonating it in a shower of dirt, rock, and violet light.

However, this had left PLEX wide open for a sudden and unprovoked rush by Casitov, who knocked away his attempts at close-quarter parries with powerful blows, behding PLEX’s arms in sickening directions. The machine was shoved back several feet as Casitov reeled back his right fist back over his shoulder.

“The power of Russia, all in one fist.” Casitov gritted his teeth as he closed the distance between himself and PLEX. At this range, dodging would be impossible. “Tunguska..”

He planted his foot down on the ground, digging into the earth itself as he prepare to swing.

“..TUSK!” He bellowed the words of his signature attack, before letting the fist swing out, at full speed and power. A veritable vapor cone appeared around as he closed the distance between himself and the robot. PLEX had no use in dodging—his fate was already sealed.”

KA-BOOM

A thunderous clap filled the air, an invisible shockwave emanating from where The Mammoth had punched a dinner plate-sized hole in CORE’s chest. The trees around his immediate vicinity were blown backwards, practically flattened as the others blew wildly around from the ensuing shockwave. Clouds of dust whirled around them as another crackle filled the air, much like an explosion going off or gun being fired in the distance.

Casitov slowly drew his hand out of the hole created in PLEX’s chest. The Enforcer remained where he stood, his blue light blinking once, then twice, before cutting out entirely. It remained there, as motionless as a statue, Casitov slowly stepping away from the husk that once was PLEX. The fight had been won: both CORE and PLEX were defeated, but at what cost? Why did he feel so empty after a victory like this?

He stepped towards the two in silence, a slight limp to his step. “Thank you. Thank you both. However, I should take leave now. It may not be safe here for you.”

A sudden crackling of one of the fallen Russians’ radio, followed by the introduction of a female voice, seemed to make this true.

/// [RUFOR] - [KASPERSY UNIT] - [СТРАТКОМ] - [Cdr. Kamarov] - /// - "Attention all units of Руса́лка Team. Your actions here have been heroic. The president has ordered all evidence of the event and the machines’ existence to be destroyed at once. A team is inbound to clean the scene. Thank you for your service.”

He didn’t dare linger on what “clean the scene” meant, so he turned to Hugo and Ivan, nodding solemnly. “I bid you the best of luck, comrades. до свидания.” From there, the Mammoth left the area, disappearing into the slowly encroaching clouds of white, presumably to return to his home.

By now, small mounds of snow had begun to gather over the bodies that dotted the area, both friend and foe, forever preserving their final moments in the ice.

---

CONTEXT NOTES

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1 - The United Champions - Established on July 4, 1981, two years after the UN's signing of the Super Human Rights Act (SHRA) that secured basic human rights for all superhumans, the United Champions is a UN-sanctioned superhero team which represents the UN Security Council. It is an elite group of heroes that some would say are the greatest defenders of Earth, operating all across the world where they maintain peace and order and respond to massive threats to humanity or global peace. Each member state of the Security Council is represented by a Champion on the team, usually the strongest or one of the strongest heroes from their respective member state.

2 - Grey Arms Corporation - The Grey Arms Corporation is a large multinational defense manufacturing conglomerate, offering state of the art equipment to its premium clients. Some benefactors include reputable security companies and states, while the more shady ones include Lycan and Warwolf International, the latter of whom often uses Grey Arms Co. equipment and assets in their day-to-day operations. Named after the eponymous elite family from England, the Grey Arms Corporation grew to dominate the global defense industry through superior products and clever marketing tactics, while Earl Johnston Churchill III, the current heir of the Grey Family and head of the company, personally sees to it that the company will stay afloat through less-than-savory tactics like intimidation and, in rare cases, assassinations. On many cases, the company often would simply buy out its competitors and liquidate their assets, asserting its monopoly over high tech weapons development, and its position as a global security power.

[Segral]

Sam Croft

Lana Graystone
August 1st

She had to admit, the base was getting to be quite cozy. It actually kind of looked like a base now, with an old Knights-of-the-Round-Table-esque table and char set-up in the middle of the room, an absolute treasure hoard of face molds, fake hair, and costumes, a makeup stash ten times bigger than Lana's own, enough computers to make the FBI jealous, and the strongest internet connection around. Seriously, that fiber-optic Internet made cable look like old dial-up AOL Instant Messenger. Sam had done a good job with cleaning up the area, making it pretty inconspicuous and carefully hidden, thanks to the help of some old 2X4's and a hologram beer truck. It was probably chump change compared to the Young Bloods fancy-ass skyscraper, but quantity did not equal quality and efficiency. Quoted from pretty much every primary school teacher ever.

Walking in with a coffee in hand, Lana barely had time to step through the door before Sam was up and at 'em, running over the plans and what their girl Makeshift had relayed to him. Sam and Makeshift would be a perfect match. Despite their respective ages, they seemed to have endless energy and enthusiasm for everything at all times. Especially in Sam's case, considering the guy was like an old geezer compared to the Young Bloods.

However, the more important part; gadgets and goodies for all. It was crime-busting Christmas up in this joint! Doug got some gadgets that gave him a very convenient and helpful audiovisual view of the Warwolf Base, with helpful Bluetooth connection. Seemed like everything could be synced up to your phone these days. Made their job easier.

For her though, the pile was much bigger. A big pile of clothing, which she assumed was Ms. Schmidt's get-up. Everything about it was spot on with the dossier Lana had been given. Not a lock of hair out of place, same skin tone and hair color, even the uniform looked exactly like a Warwolf uniform. Even her friggin' fingerprints were loaded on the gloves. Somehow, Trisha and herself seemed to be the same height and roughly the same frame, and the clothes hung off of her pretty well. Which was weird, considering she was taller than the average woman.

What was even more interesting was the accessories. The pockets were deeper than the Grand Canyon, making swiping stuff inconspicuously twice as easy, and the insignias and badges were all tear-away, meaning that a switcheroo would be easy if they were pressured into it. Granted, a two-layer mask would've been helpful, but the fact that Sam had gotten all this done was enough compensation, and it couldn't be too hard to lower her cap like an edgy TV cop. Even real police officers did it. And the Glock. Sam got all serious at this, as if the gun was some epic tool that could break the world. Well, to be fair, in vigilatism, blood on your hands might as well be world-breaking. But she was comfortable. She probably had more gun experience than anybody else on the team and 90% of the NASL, and after a while of using it, it was easy to tell when it was needed and when it wasn't.

Sam finished, and invited questions and requests for takeout. Come to think of it, she forgot to grab a bite with her coffee, and she was starving. Craving a bit of takeout. A lot of takeout. But questions first.

"Sounds good, just one question. Why would Schmidt, the head of the Heavy Weapons Battalion be heading into the communication hub. Wouldn't it arouse some suspicion if such a high-ranking official was acting as a radio repairman? And I'm with Arrow, Chinese sounds great.

[Absolon-7]

Carter Graystone

Mizuma Ishiwara, the Lunarian Illusionist!

Viviana Couture July 29th
Viviana nodded along with a skeptical look at Carter's final suggestion of giving Casimir a blood shower or well it was dye but calling it a blood shower sounded a lot funnier in her head and was more to the point. This one could be spectacular as not only as the result showy but it had a surprise factor too. These two prank ideas sure were formidable in their shock factor. Oh right, the first prank was having Mizu take her own appearance and pretend to kiss another guy in front of him. Viviana repeated the thought in her head, and then again, and again. Oh! Oh..oh. That wouldn't be nice at all in fact having Casi see her kiss another guy was just awful. The thought of the opposite and seeing Casimir kiss someone else was disgusting to her just made her feel sick. Darn it my second screw up! First I made Mizu uncomfortable and now I actually thought of doing something really messed up to Casimir, thought Viviana with much chagrin as she crossed her arms across her chest and a slight frown befallen on her face. Mizu seemed to like the blood shower idea too and hopefully she wouldn't rag on Viviana for changing her mind.

"Ah yeah, the blood shower sounds great Carter! There's probs some supplies here at the Tower and for whatever's not here there's gotta be loads of dollar stores where they have the stuff," exclaimed Viviana as she recovered her composure a little bit. Perhaps she could get them to back out of Mizu copying her later but for now getting stuff to be what they were focusing on. "Maybe we'll come up with some other ideas on in the meantime haha."

Carter Graystone

Red

Casimir Herman August 1st
Casimir slid his hands into his black worn pants' pockets as he watched Carter swimmingly deal with the surprised Warwolf grunts. A smug smirk crawled along his face underneath his balaclava as his his darted along to Carter's movements in attacking the two soldiers. This would be a perfect warm up for today and maybe some stress relief too. For this day would be the day where San Diego would see the debut of two new villains but also the last of the villains. Carter's fight seemed to be going almost choreographed due to how embarrassingly Carter beat up the Warwolf soldiers. If Carter can beat you up then you seriously need to reconsider every single life choice that lead you to that moment of humiliation. Casimir checked on several insects he had flying around the city to keep track of other Warwolf Patrols and his fellow Distraction-mates. He'd been keeping an eye on one particular response team that had not one, not two, but three different juggernauts. They weren't supposed to get bogged down so now would be the best time to move. At that moment the boombox began playing a different song to go along the blaring alarm of the armored Warwolf truck.

"Y'all motherfucker better be ready for this!" shouted Casimir in a slightly more hoarse voice as he pointed at the two downed Warwolf soldiers, "Motherfucker's in this city are gonna be our bitches now! San Diego belongs to Speederdemon and Bungeeneer!"

Carter, Cas, there's another patrol of soldiers with three Juggernauts supporting them only a block away, and it looks like they heard the commotion. Get ready.

Casimir cursed as he heard the picked up the boombox from where he left it and walked next to Carter. Dammit! His timing had just been off by a few and he could just hear the steps of three juggernauts coming from right around the corner. He had a longhorn beetle flying right behind them and it looked like quite a few grunts were following right behind.

"Kurwa!" shouted Casimir as he suddenly turned around to see the far off threat, "Let's ditch this place! The fools got what's coming to them!" Casimir then reached back with his free hand to a satchel clinging to his belt and grabbed a haphazardly made container made from two joined together. He reared back and catapulted the device all across to the other end of the street. Its clay structure shattered on impact at the head area of the first juggernaut and its hidden contents revealed a thick, viscous, black goop made from whatever leftover motor oil he had and several other chemicals and car liquids. Casimir then turned back and leaped away several meters and repeated the process like a cricket.

"Come on!" shouted Casimir at Carter and Harley, "Just gotta ditch their asses and repeat on some other patrols!"