RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block Issue 13: The One Where Stuff Happens

Vengeance examined the trail of tar that led into the ventilation system. "What are we going to do now?" Reynolds asked with his voice slightly faultering in places.

The avatar of Vengeance reached into his coat and pulled out a hilt of an exotic sword. It was decorated with a language that man was never meant to know. A flame erupted from the hilt and formed a blade. A yellow aura the same as the one that encompassed the spirit's body surrounded the blade.

The metal creeked and hissed at the immense heat that cut through it as Vengeance walked down the hallway and cut into the duct. His eyes, hidden behind the supernatural helmet, focused on the vent and looked for any sign of Jeremy Horice.

"I guess that'll work," Reynolds said as he followed.

Kristogar Velo walked two feet behind Turner, his teammate Grisson Montag was by his side. All three men were silent. Turner assured the two men that the being known as Glitch was cut and blocked out of the main computer core and secluded to the Eastern Wing of the third subbasement. Unless a rather large power surge were to occur, it would not be able to access the Headquarters network. And even if a ‘glitch’ in the system were to take place, there would be less than a fraction of a millisecond for the sentinel being to get in. Only for it to meet the most sophisticated security/coding system known to this world.

Turner was not worried. Walker himself was too cocky to believe that Glitch, as powerful as he is, would be able to get into HIS system. Velo, was different, knowing first hand the damage that Glitch can do. If Glitch can harm and get into Velo’s personal systems, that he had no doubt that this Glitch could take over Walker’s mainframe in less than a millisecond, if needed be. Montag had his own past with the cybor-creature, but held no ill will, he was here for a job and to help a friend. Getting a glimse at the the EPS headquarters was an added plus.

Turner paused and threw up his hand to motion to Velo and Montag to stop. Without any words they did and took positions, forming a back-to-back-to-back triangle. Montag grabbed an Energy Neutralizer from thin air, somewhere a Mad Sciencetist could not Neutralise his energy for the time being. Velo reached for his bunny but paused, desprate times called for desprate measures, he clicked his gaunlets on instead.

“Its not him-” Turner began before a visious dog mad from pure shadows jumped at him.

Lightining erupted from Turner’s tightly held fists ripping the shadow dog-creature apart. A dozen more shadow dogs came down the hall in all directions.

“Intinisifed light!” Turner ordered.

Montag throw the EN gun away and grabbed two ultra powerful flashlights from thin air, hofefully the FBI HEadquarters doesn’t have a mojar blackout anytime soon. Montag spun the flashlights around his fists as a coyboy would do in the west and then two beams fly, striking right through the increasingly large shadows.

Velo waiting for one of the creatures to approch him, striking out with his left hand, Velo was met with air. The creature reformed and chomped down on the armor covering Velo’s arm. The creature’s shadow teeth were not tough enough to break through the dense metal. Nor did the teeth scratch the armor. Another creature appeared next to Velo and was met with a lazer from his right gauntlet. A few minutes later, all the shadow creatures were gone and the lights were back.

Velo and Montag waited for an explination from Turner. “Scott Bownstein. Low level powers to creature and control shadows. As of now he is harmless. When he hits puperty, he’ll be able to level cities.”

Turner looked side to side, “The little bastard is around here somewhere.”

"Isn't this great, Mr. Aquaman?" Cal Nachtman beamed walking through the dank corridors. Mortimer Milton behind him. "I guess so. . ."

"The Earth Protectorate Squadron's first teamup and it's an all-star cast! Who would've believed all these great heroes would show up to aid us?" Nachtman continued ahead into the darkness, oblivious to Raptor and Grimm, still arguing behind the two EPS members.

"Think about it, Ed. It makes no sense. Sending us in to battle someone as supposedly powerful as Rothman is with two teenagers? It reeks of a trap!" Grimm ranted to his teammate.

"Ehy! I know what it is. You are jealous because Turner put me in charge! When we find Rothman, I will cut off his head and throw it at Walker's feet. Then, he will give me my son, if not. . ." Ed stroked the hilt of his blade almost absentmindedly.

The bellows and screams of rage and pain sounded in the distance. The four men came to a halt.

"Do you think that's him?" Nachtman asked.

"Could be. . ." Grimm answered. His axe hummed and vibrated slowly in it's scabbard. It had been doing so since coming into proximity with Ed's blade. It was a bad sign.

Ladnikia continued whispering to Ed.

"Hew-mans! Walker! Rothman is coming for you all!" The screams of Rothman echoed down the corridors.

As Grimm walked past a cell, a voice called out to his right. "Is that you, death? Have you come for me, then?"

Grimm looked over and saw a familiar looking man. He recognized him from Walker's slides. It was Bender, the mad psychiatrist. He was sitting on the cot in his cell, drawing on a piece of paper with charcoal.

"Come in, death. Take off that silly mask and let's talk a while." Bender stood up and turned his paper towards Grimm. Grimm could barely make out what was on it in the dim light. It looked to a wolf or dog like creature eating. . .something.

"I'm not wearing a mask." Grimm answered, turning to follow his allies.

"Of course you are. We all wear masks in this life. . ." Bender sat down and returned to his charcoal drawings.

Interlude: NAECKEN: the gathering part IV

Naecken Fortress, the south Pole

Saros looks disgusted at the disfigured form of the huge spider, devastated by the fury of Naecken. The red demon, after his feast, turns toward the Annunaki leader, and smiles, blood dripping from his fangs.

"ARE YOU HAPPY, MORTAL?" asks the demon.

Saros nods. "Killing your own ally should make me happy?" he says. "Well, at last I feel more comfortable without that thing hovering up there."

"ZVEDI WAS AN INVALUABLE ALLY TO MY CAUSE".

"I will be much more invaluable... my Lord" The last two words are spoken with much disgust by the eons old alien. The part of the servant was never an easy role for Saros to interpret.

"HOW? I HAVE KILLED ZVEDI, AS YOU ASKED FOR. NOW IT'S TIME YOU REVEAL YOUR OFFERING"

"Your army of Quadnik robots..." and this words the eyes of Saros quickly gaze to the distant form of the T5 robot "... is pretty powerful. Impressive. But I have to offer something much more... useful. Something the Hoods had created in the last few years... we had it tested nearly two years ago... and since then, it has been upgraded many times... now it's ready to be used."

"TALK, PUNY LITTLE ALIEN!"

"I am talking about a strike from the sky..."

The metal sides of the ventilation shaft hissed as bubbled as the Spirit of Vengeance's flaming sword burned through it. His boots, the color of grey ash, stomped a frightful rhythm down the corridor.

Reynolds walked behind uncomfortably purposefully steering his gaze away from the back of the spirit's helmet as much as possible without much luck. A strange design, almost unnoticeable, wrapped around the helmet. The curiosity of his mind was only matched by the outright fear that was running up and down his body. Within the lines and curves of the design, the young man's mind caught what was almost like eyes peaked out at him.

The EPS agent suddenly noticed that the rhythm had stopped. He turned his head forward in enough time to keep himself from running into Vengeance. "What's up?"

The spirit didn't speak. His gaze just stared down at the below. Reynolds turned his gaze in the same direction. His eyes could make out in the yellow glow of the flames the tar trail that they had been following. It ended abruptly in the center of the vent. "How the fuck...?" was all the young EPS agent could say.

Ripping metal screamed as Vengeance through out his arm and tore open the vent further down the wall.

"It's a junction in the ducts." Reynolds used his power to shine a spotlight sized beam down the dark tunnel. "It looks like it goes to the storage rooms below us. I'd better check in with Walker," the agent continued without noticing the fog with a slight yellow tinge that was wrapping around his ankles and filling the room behind him.

Without a seen source the mist grew thicker and thicker in the corridor. As one might see an image in a cloud, a form began to take shape in the mist. Or rather, the mist began to take form. It climbed and twirled around itself into circles and lines. The pillow-like look of mist became smoother and solid. The yellowish/white replaced with reds, blacks, blues, and other pigments. The mist coalesced into what is, quite frankly, the baddest motherfucking motorcycle to ever tread asphalt.

"I can't reach Walker," Reynolds said while giving up on his communicator. "Must be something interfering with the system." He turned to see Vengeance sitting on the bike. His hands trembled and his knees almost buckled at the sound of the motorcycle literally roaring to life. "What the fuck is that? And where did it come from?" He received no answer. "Don't you ever say anything?"

"Get on."

"Ok," Reynolds finally said nervously as he swung his leg over the back of the back. As he positioned his body, he felt a back rest that he knew wasn't there before. Before he could ask or say anything about it, the motorcycle tore off down the hallway with incredible acceleration. As the walls became a blur, the agent was able to squeak out, "This might be cool if you weren't so fucking scary!"

Then, the screams stopped altogether.

The right hand of Euro suddenly moved swiftly to the hilt of his sword, unsheathing it... her... from the relative scabbard.

Grimm did the same with his axe. The two heroes, their weapons held in front of them, looked straight to the end of the corridor, where an heavy armored door close that section of the P.I.T. from the next one.

Silence.

Just the thumping sound of the bloods in the the ears.

Silence.

The heavy breathing of the Insomnia kid.

Silence.

The buzzing sound of the breathing apparatus of Milton.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

And then the armored door... exploded. The noise was deafening. Suddenly many of the inmates began to cry, to weep, to laugh, to sob.

And amid the chaos, on the open vault appeared...

Rothman.

Enormous. Muscular. Powerful.

A wicked smile on his face.

His piercing eyes looking... investigating... at the four man on the other side of the corridor.

His defying expression suddenly changed... to a perplexing look. Three of those he never met. One was obviously an EPS agent. A kid.

The other two were the most strange. One was sporting a "death" look, holding a big, heavy axe. The other, bald, bearded, bare chested, had a big bronze sword raised in front of him.

Two completly stranger.

But then, the air brought the smell of the last one to Rothman nostrils. His eyes widen in recognition. An expression of surprise passed fast over his face, like the shadows of a clouds overt an hill, to leave place to a broad, distorted smile. A face full of satisfaction, full of... blood... lust.

"Cicciotto! Finally I can eat you, disillusioned fool!" Rothman roared, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Interlude: NAECKEN: the gathering part V

Vanguard International Complex: Monitor Room

Priest enjoys watching the world. Around him, the dozens of monitor feeds informations, images, sounds from all over the world.

News, sports, weathers... stills from security cameras around the planet... satellites footage hacked from the intelligence agencies of many countries...

Suddenly, bright colors on a monitor takes his attention away from the puppy.

News from a satellite European broadcasting station...

Priest raises the volume...

...I am Barbra Penn for Skynews Channel, live from New York. Here, at the United nations Organization Palace, the General Secretary Kofi Annan has started the Conference on Global Security with the amazing announcement of the creation and founding of a new permanent peacekeping force aimed at fighting metahuman terrorism around the world. All the Heads of state of the most important world countries, with the exception of the United States, have gathered in New York for the presentation of the...

...the image shift from the face of the auburn haired newswoman, to the recorded footage of an assembly of mostly young people, dressed in shiny silver and orange suits, with a black S embossed on the left shoulders...

Strikeforce 1, the all-humans, high tech force created to assure a brighter future for the humankind. Composed of all non-metagene enhanced people, their uncanny abilities are derivative of the most advanced researcehs in the field of quantum physics, artificial intelligence and biogenetic. Representative of all the world, they are...

...the image zooms over the tallest one, a golden haired man in his fourties, square jawed, with piercing sky-blue eyes...

Olaf Ekorre, code-named "The Captain", from Reykjavik, Iceland, former test pilot for the ESA, the European Space Agency, field leader and commander of the orbital ship Nebiru, headquarter of the Strikeforce 1...

...the camera shifts to a very fat child, very pale, bald and with round spectacles...

...Pedro Delgado, codename Albino, twelve years old, from the Caribbean Island of La Perdita, child genius and master tactician...

...now it's the time of a man in his mid thirties, sleek, long nose and silvery white hairs, a walking stick in his hand, with a deep-green emerald on top...

...Jack Merlin, The Walker, from Dublin, Eire, specialized in aerial combat and geared with anti gravity and tele-porting experimental technology...

...the fourth member of the Strikeforce is a twenty-something, strongly built young man, tan skinned and with short, curly black hairs...

...Frank Mullarney, Hero, from Wellington, New Zealand, ex champion of the rugby national team, has been "enhanced" for street fight: thanks to cybernetic implants, he is now faster than a speeding bullet, stronger than a locomotive, able to leap... well, you know the rest...

...the camera continues his panoramic, stopping over the metallic face of what is clearly a robot... a mechanism of human resemblance...

...the true marvel of the team, A.C.K., the Automated Calm Keeper, the first anthropomorphic robot in the world, created by the Sony Research Center on Artificial Intelligence of Osaka, Japan. Virtually indestructible, made of a magnesium alloy with an exoskeleton of vanadium steel, the robot is able to fly on his own, and his armed with laser guns...

...next to robot, noticeably not at ease, stands a very tall dark skinned man, with long black deadlocked hair and glowing blue eyes , holding a long staff in one hand...

...Inkwennkwezi Emnyama, codenamed Darkstar, from Nairobi, Kenya, ex-agent of the President of the Republic personal guards, the staff he carries gives him control over the local weather, trough the manipulation of the Earth magnetic field...

...the camera now pass over the beautiful face of an oriental young woman in his mid twenties, with pale skin, long black hairs, a single lock multicolored on one side of the head...

...professor June Ho, from the Polytechnic University of Hong Kong, China, called "the Inventor" for his ability to create things out of the available materials...

...then it's the time of another oriental looking woman, seemingly older, very tall, dark skinned and with short, curly crimson hairs...

... Adalia Perigord, called Mindgame, from Papeete, French Polynesia, a cyber-neural enhancement installed into her right brain lobe allows her to project images inside the mind of her adversaries......

...the next woman is European, seemingly young but with a haughty bearing that made her ageless, black medium long black hairs, black eyes, full red lips and a long nose...

Aphrodite Xinidakis, Greek from Cyprus west, known as Morphina, former head of the Department of Reasearch for Bayer Chemical, Monaco, Germany, her world renowned knowledge on narcotics are a guarantee that the work of the Strikeforce will be done with the higher respect for the human rights...

...the camera indulge over the green iris of the next Strikeforce member, a woman whose eyes are the only visible feature, under the Islamic chador that covers her head...

...Myram Kahameini, from Nukus, Uzbekistan, has been enrolled in the Strikeforce after her discover of the G.A.I.A. growth factor, during her time as an employe of the Lake Aral Regeneration Project. The application of her discovery, made possible by the joined effort of Professor June Ho and Bayer Chemical and Farmaceutic, one of the main sponsor of the Strikeforce 1, has brought to the creation of the so called "green ray", whose effect it's still an undisclosed secret. Appropriately enough, her codename is Eden...

...then it's the turn of another oriental woman, on her mid twenties, her features indian; she sports short, spiky platinum hairs, with an heavy make-up...

Rayna Bedi, codename Digigirl, comes from New Dheli, India. for many years an agent of the Mandelovian Security Corp, she was expelled from that country following the ban of foreigners last year. One of the most endowed hackers in the world, it's the foremost resource of the Strikeforce in the war toward the informatics terrorism...

...and lastly is a young Caucasian woman, red hairs, a beautiful, but very normal face. Yet, it's right that one to capture the interest of Priest...

...and the twelfth and last member of the Strikeforce, Franziska Schmidt, codenamed "The Rose", from Karlsbaad, Germany. A keen markswoman, former members of the "leather helmets" special forces of the Federal Republic of Germany, Franziska is the heavy armory expert of Strikeforce 1.

Together, they are the front rank of the world wide war on metahuman terrosim.

They are...

... the Strikeforce 1.

The image jumps back to the TV studio, on the face of a older newsman.

Thank you Barbra. Actually, on a side note, it has to be underlined the absence of the USA President Robert Brown from the ceremony of aperture of the conference. Mr. Brown officially declined the invitation due to a previously appointed official visit to the metropolis of Promethean City, Delaware, the fourth biggest city of the continent. Inside source from the Brown administrations claims the real reason for the discourtesy lies in the irreconcilable divisions over War on Metaterrorism matter.

Now more on the President Brown's visit with Buzz. E. Rante from Promethean, USA.

On a different monitor, Priests runs the taped footage of the last news. The face of "The Rose" continues to be played, while he wonders where he has seen that face before...

And then, a distant booming sound is heard...


Del Mar beach, La Perdita

The waves breaking on the beach begin to intensify. Each one taller, frequent... stronger. Tobias, which has just stopped from his workout, raises his head from his feet, and glances at the distant horizon... when he hears it.
Well, everybody in the island can hear it. A loud rumble... the sonic boom of something going at Mach 12. All the sights go to the sky. What kind of plane can do such a noise?

But the sky is empty. So, Tobias eyes return to the sea... and the white ripple in the uniform grey-turquoise of the sea alert him. A wave. Big, threatening.

A tsunami.

The island will be destroyed.

He must stop it.

Can he oppose the force of the Ocean?

He never tried it.

Oh, he knows he can run over water. He has run to the Big Walls of China once, and another time he got to Berlin, by foot. But in those cases, he had just to slide on the surface, like over an iced lake.

This time, he has to push the water. Her must create another wave, to counteract the existing one.

Can he really done it?

Or will he drown?

The time to decide stops him for what it seems an eternity.

Then springs away. Sprints away.

Just three millisecond have passed.

He runs over the waterline, one, two, three, a thousands of time. Comes and goes, comes and goes.

And, one after another, a new, gigantic wave began to build, like a colossal wall of water.

The two tsunamis collides with the force of a nuclear explosion.

But the sonic boom doesn't cease. And, from the clouds of salty spray, a blurring object sprout out like a bullet.

And, of all the people standing on the beach, Tobias alone detect, lost in the deafening thunder, a familiar sound.

A call.

"HHHHHHHEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Rush of adrenaline. Wind on the face.

Tobias runs again.

The object... big bullet... digs a deep furrow in the ground, miles long, toward the volcano.

Tobias follows him on the rim of the tracks. But when he reaches his object, it's because it has stopped altogether.

Crashing... on the rocky, steep slope.

The object is a man. Bruised, beaten... covered in blood. Little remainings of a silver and orange suit hanging, shredded, from his torso. On the biggest piece T.C. recognizes a codename, Relàmpago.

Tobias raises the head of the man. The scars are not from the crash. He has been abused much earlier.

"You... are... with Vanguard?" asks the man, an heavy Portuguese accent affecting the words.

"Yesbutyou.. who..."

The man lift a hand, with difficult, to stop Tobias' words. "The Strikeforce... is not... what it seems..." he whispers. Then his jaw drops, his eyes rolls.

Relàmpago dies.

Interlude: NAECKEN: the gathering part VI

Vanguard International Complex: Monitor Room

The booming sound suddenly stops. Priest quickly digits over a keyboard, and four different views of Tobias Cristopher holding a seemingly dead man inside a deep furrow occupies some of the monitors. The man from the future takes the phone, and makes a emergency call to the La Perdita Hospital, to prepare for the arrival of the wounded man. He still doesn't know that there will be non need for that, as the mysterious man is really dead. Then, Priest calls Nadia, and send her to the same Hospital, to back up Tobias.

Then, he looks at his wrist watch, arches back on the armchair, impatient to see what he knows will happen in a few seconds. One of the saddest moment for America. One of which the memory is still profound in the hearths of peoples eighty years from now. For months, he wondered how he could have stopped that. Then he simply decided that he couldn't. It was not him to choose. His mission is to stop Danny to destroy the world. Anything else, for how much it could be tremendous, it's not up to him to change.

Yet, he knows he can't miss to... witness... the moment.

Thank you Philip, I am Buzz. E. Rante, live for Skynews from Promethean City, USA. It's a sunny and hot day here, as the President of the United State, Mr. Robert Brown, is expected to appear in a few minutes here on Athanon Lane, directed to the Town Hall. The security measures taken are... well, simply incredible. After the recent exploits of the Metahuman Brotherhood for Liberation, nothing is too much to protect the President. There are 15.000 policemen scattered among the crowd here in promethean, while the surroundings of the city have been totally blocked by the Army. 150 Apache helicopters flies incessantly over the City.

But, it seems...yes, now I see it, it's arriving. Behind dozens of policemen on motorbikes, the Presidential Limousine is arriving...

...Priest looks again at his watch. Less that one minute.

Standing over the car, President Brown waves his hand, smiling. The colorful crowd becomes dull colored as a cloud obscures the sun...

...Mr. Brown stepped to presidency when he was Vice President for Mr. Richard S. Turner, killed on the Inaugural Address of his mandate, in the year 1996. Then, four years later, Mr. Brown has been re-elected, becoming the first African American president of the USA...

...as the limousine runs across the two crowded wings of people, hats, newspapers, balloons starts to flies, pushed by an heavy gale...

...it's becoming very windy here, Philip. The Presidential limousine is passing exactly in front of us, now... I see Mr. Brown... why he is looking at the sun? Everyone is looking up...

...Priest quickly gazes at the big clock on the wall...

Oh my God. I.. it's... oh fucking shit...

A black screen replace the image of the president crossing himself.

And then the earthquake. The armchair under Priest shakes a lot, but no damage is done. The magnitude is low, here.

A few digits on the keyboard. Satellite footage from a CIA secret satellite. There is a huge, round inlet where Promethean City was before.

There will be hours before something will be shown, thinks Priests, so he leaves, to see if there is any kind of helps he could give to any victim of the earthquake.

....................................

One hour later, Priest, Drake, Shirley, Quantos, Kit Piper, Nadia and Tayden are all reunited in front of the TV screen in the dining room. Only Tobias is not present, still sleeping to recover energies after the struggle to contain the tsunami an hour and a quarter before. Lil'Jo, his cat, sleeping at his feet.

...yet not from any kind of information from the government of the USA. The earthquake, that has affected the whole east coast of the United States, had his epicenter in the Delaware state. The area is totally cut off from any kind of communication. The nearby cities of Philadelphia, Wilmington, Atlantic City, Baltimore, Dover and Ocean City have suffered a great deal of damage...

...on the screen run images of destructions, buildings and bridges collapsed, people screaming, factories on fire, kids covered in bloods in hospital beds, firemen at works...

...Vice President Geroge W. Bush is expected to talk to the nation in less than half a hour. Experts says that an earthquake of this magnitude was unlikely to happens, due to the geological structure of the area, but...

...the screen turns black, then it is permeated by a purple glows. And then appears a horrible, red, face, with two small horns protruding from the forehead, and a wicked smile.

"Naecken!" shouts Nadia.

"Red?" wonders Shirley.

"PEOPLE OF THE EARTH. TODAY THE POWER OF NAECKEN HAS SHAKEN YOUR PLANET LIKE A LEAF IN THE HURRICANE. SURRENDER YOUR NATIONS TO THE PRINCE OF HELL. WHO WILL BECOME AN ALLY WILL BE SPARED. WHO WILL REMAIN AN ENEMY, WILL BE CRUSHED.
METAHUMAN OF THE EARTH, COME TO MY PLACE, AS THE DAY OF YOUR REVENGE HAS COME."

"Oh fuck..." whispers Kit.

On the screen the newswoman of the La Perdita News has reappeared. She looks away from the camera, trying to understand what is happened. She picks up the little "phone" she has on her desk, whispering, then breath heavily and comes back to look straight in camera.

The interference we have... experienced... as for now has not any explanation. Our colleagues are working hard to find any clues, we'll be back on this when we'll have any kind of interpretation of the odd declaration made by a man camouflaged as a demon. Now back on the earthquake that has shaken the Atlantic coast of the USA...

...the woman stops again, and picks up the phone for the second time...

...we have a declaration from the European country of Mandelovia, the little nation that less than two years ago sealed its frontier to people from abroad, and that is well know for his advanced technology, that put it ahead of any other country of the planet, including the USA, at last since the seventeen century. It's going live on CNN, the translation should kick in by any moment...

Drake turns the TV right on CNN. There is the face of D'Goon on close-up, an impenetrable expression on his face.

Citizens of Mandelovia, the ultimatum given by the demon Naecken to the community of the nations gives us no choice. For the security of all the citizen of our blessed land, and to assure a bright future for Mandelovia, I have chosen to ally with Naecken to spare a terrible destiny like the one endured by the City of Promethean, destroyed by a falling meteor controlled by the Fiend.
I don't express any kind of sorrow or compassion for the United States of America, as nearly two years ago it was that imperialist nation to try a similar attack to our capital city, only to fail by the hands of a mysterious metahuman.
I hereby declare fully allegiance to Naecken and war to the United States of America.

The jaws of the Vanguardians drop in unison.

Continues in HR#14- Obsidian Illumination 2: Smith's revenge

Brianna slowed down her pace, and Leslie and Phil were side by side of each other again, talking in low voices. Well, low by normal human standards. Brianna's hearing was a marign above most people, and she still ended up eavesdropping.

"What's going to happen to us after all this?"

Brianna had enough of this, and slowed down even more. How could they navigate this place anyways? All the corridors looked the same anyways. Walls to her left. Walls to her right. Lights over her head. Who knew being a hero could be so boring sometimes.

The lights dimmed and Brianna realized she was too far away from Phil and Leslie. "Hey guys, wait up!"

There was a muffled scream up ahead, and the Banshee raced forward. Phil and Leslie were on the ground, unconscious. Two rolly-polly men, wearing stripes and overalls, were walking away from their limp forms.

"You just took out Phil and Leslie!" Brianna's lips formed a sneer and she opened her wings. "You're not getting away so easily!"

***

Phil and Leslie -- who were not lying knocked-out on the floor -- continuded walking forward. "Do you have any idea how much it hurt me to leave you, Phil?"

"Try me."

Leslie rolled her eyes. "Why do I even bother--"

Brianna's shouting forced Leslie to stop. "You just took out Phil and Leslie!"

Phil and Leslie turned around. Brianna was rushing at them, her eyes glazed over. "Brianna, we're right--"

"You're not getting away so easily!"

POW!

Before Phil could react, Brianna had leaped into the air and kicked him in the jaw. "Phil!" shouted Leslie. What's going on here?

Brianna backed away for a momment to catch her balance. "I'll get you...what did you say your name was? Tweedledee?"

Phil let out a moan. "Oh no...Jaberwock's got her..."

Tweedledee got up and rushed towards Brianna. She flapped into the air and was about to kick her opponent when Tweedledum grabbed her ankle and dragged her back to the ground. "Not so easy now, is it, girl?"

Brianna realized she couldn't fight these two up close like this. Instead of charging blindly again, she backed up until she was a safe distance away, then opened her mouth to scream...

***

"Shit, the Jabberwock knows about Brianna's scream!" shout Phil as he cupped his ears. Brianna was several feet away, belting out a B flat note that was causing the couple to fall on thier knees.

"What?" shouted Leslie back.

"Nevermind."

Ideas raced through Phil's mind. Jabberwook was tricking Brianna into thinking he and Leslie were foes -- all from a child's storybook. He looked back up at Brianna. The girl was doing her best to knock out her opponents...too bad she didn't know they were her own friends.

Suddenly, Brianna's mouth changed shape...and Phil felt the pain from her scream diminish. He knew what was happening. Brianna was going to focus her energy on only one of them. "Brianna, STOP IT!"

Leslie recieved the full brunt of Brianna's attack. She fell to the ground, eyes rolled back.

Phil stood up and focused his mind. He was going to fight the Jabberwock himself. Too bad Brianna and Leslie were going to be the unlucky battlegrounds...

***

Brianna had managed to knock Tweedledum down. Now it was Tweendledee's turn. Suddenly, she felt a pain in the back of her neck. "Ah!"

She sank to the ground, but the floor seemed to be moving. Brianna was on all fours now, spreading her limbs out to balence herself. "Oh..." For a girl that flew in the air, Brianna was fighting a nausea she wasn't use to. "Something's not right..."

A voice was screaming in her head. Brianna covered her ears but it wouldn't stop. Suddenly, she knew what her foes must have felt like when she screamed at them.

"Tweedledum and Tweedledee
Agreed to have a battle;
For Tweedledum said Tweedledee
Had spoiled his nice new rattle.

"Just then flew down a monstrous crow,
As black as a tar-barrel;
Which frightened both the heroes so,
They quite forgot their quarrel.

"Now what a poor little crow you made! Off with your head!"

"What a minute -- that's Carroll! Jabberwock, come and face me!"

The former professor emerged from the shadows. Brianna struggled to get up. But Phil intercepted him before Brianna could do anything. "Phil! What do you want me to do?"

Phil turned his face from Jabberwock to Brianna. "I'm getting him out of your head the only way I know how."

And suddenly, it all went blank.

***

The glaze was gone from Brianna's eyes a moment before they rolled back. Brianna hit the floor, one wing crumpled under her body.

***

Walker turned to one of his men. "Miss Kline's team is doing wonderful, don't you think?" He turned back towards the security screen as well as a cooresponding computer. "Judging by the brainwave patterns, Phil is dueling with the Jabberwock in her head. Brillent. In doing so, he has left Miss Finola defenseless."

"What do you want with Banshee?"

"She's an escapee from Aisling prison. Do you know what that place is? A little private prison -- the Irish Republic doesn't even know it exists. I think our little Irish bird isn't what she appears to be. Find her and get her into one of the examination rooms. I'll be down shortly to see her."

Unnecessary Interlude Because I'm Bored

<I don't like it. I'm not going.>

<Would you please stop complaining?>

<No.>

<You're acting like a child.>

<You're always pressuring me to have kids. I consider this a good compromise.>

<Please be serious about this. He's trying to do something good for you.>

<By getting me out of the way?>

<That's not what this is about, and you know it. You haven't had a vacation.... EVER! You're always busy running around for that corporation, cleaning up everyone else's messes. He just wants to give you something you need.>

<If I needed a vacation, I would have taken one.>

<No, you wouldn't have.>

<That's beside the point.>

<Why won't you just accept this gift from him?>

<Because I don't like him.>

<But that's why you need to take it.>

<I fail to see your logic in that.>

<He's your family. You know that you're not supposed to treat family like this.>

<Just because he married you, that doesn't make him my family. You're my family. Not him.>

<Would you please stop unpacking everthing I pack?!>

<Only after you stop packing everything I unpack.>

<Could you just do it for your little sister? Huh? Give him a chance. All he wants is for you to like him.>

<Only if I can hate him twice as much when it's over.>

<That's better. It'll be fun. You'll visit exotic locations. Who knows! You might even meet a nice girl on your trip. I'm sure you'll have a nice time.>

<I'm sure that I'll hate ever minute of it.>

Kristofer Schanz here.

My colleagues call me "Chance" -- it's a nickname that fits my personality, I suppose. Ever since I became the Luckiest Man Alive I've never shied away from taking a calculated risk. My luck always pulled me through -- every single time -- whenever it seemed I'd bitten off more than I could chew. That chemical I'd ingested a year-and-a-half ago which made me a human good-luck charm never seemed to fail me when I needed it.

But that was another world, and besides, the wench is dead...

I've still got a greater share of luck than the average guy, but truthfully I'm not so lucky any more, not enough to justify the nickname of the "Luckiest Man Alive" even if it's true. Not since the Tower of Cuccubao, anyway. But I wasn't completely left without defenses. Besides my natural inventiveness, Renaissance-man talents, and hand-to-hand combat skills, my "luck-quality" was replaced by a kind of "healing factor" which quickly repairs any injuries to my body that I receive.

Truthfully, though, I don't know the limits of that ability. It just seems to have worked almost instantly in the past. Of course, these were fairly minor injuries: A laceration here, a broken collarbone there... nothing too serious. I've never dared to see what would happen if I lost a limb... or worse, my head.

That's why I try to keep things calm. I try to keep a cool head at all times -- especially when my team needs me. But, you know... I hardly got any sleep last night, and I'm in the bowels of a top-secret underground facility a continent away from my home in La Perdita.

And there's an invisible man on my right. And an insane demigod on my left. And I'm carrying a chemical-projectile gun filled with a tranquilizing spray of my own invention which could knock out an elephant.

Oh... and now a bunch of well-endowed flower-women are talking to me. I suddenly feel like I've jumped into a Vertigo comic-book.

And I feel kinda funny... trippy, even...

...the joy of chemicals...

...oh...

...my...

...

..

.

Rothman didn't move. Like he was expecting what happened.

The Raptor thrown himself at the behemoth. Running very fast, pointing Ladnikia toward the massive metahuman.

Rothman smiled, and opened his arms, like to embrace the arriving Euro. Instead, he quicly closed the arms, one toward the other, like to clap. And when the two hands met, it was like a thunder. An explosion.

An air wave collides with Edulcore's body, pushing him back, throwing him toward the steel wall behind, leaving him temporary KO.

Rothman was laughing madly.

"Mr. Aquaman, sir, Doomsday will kill us all if we don't act fast!" whispered Cal Natchman in the ear of Milton.

"Shut up, kid!" he yelled, turning toward Grimm. The Death avatar was taking aim for his axe to be fling at the giant. But the skull's orbit seemed to widen, as the kid fled toward Rothman.

Cal stopped just inched from the genocidal killer, floating at mid air, an expression of rage mixed to fear. His eyebrow frowned, as the kid was in deep concentration. Rothman raised an arm, his hand closed in a powerful fist, ready to smash the young boy, but the face of a giant expressed first surprise, and then pain when his in-mate suit took fire all of a sudden.

"Arrrrghhh" the man screamed, as the fire-extinguisher sprinklers began pouring water from the ceiling. A human torch, Rothman punched Natchman hard, sending him meters away, to clash where Euro was still.

The giant tore away his burning clothes, exposing the burned, coal black skin. His smile was gone, and fury distorted his grimace.

"Enoughhh!" roared Rothman, under the pouring water, so loud that Grimm didn't hear the clicking sound of all apertures of that corridor and the one across the broken door being sealed watertight. Milton heard something in his earpiece, and went to Cal side.

Grimm was alone facing the powerful meta. He raised the axe, and without a word, cold as Death, thrown it.

The axe rotated so fast to be nearly invisible... but Rothman suddenly took one of the steel door at his feet, and using it as a shield, covered himself.

The axe thrust in the steel surface. Before it could magically fly back in the hand of Grimm, Rothman with his bare hands bended the metallic door around it, sealing it inside the scrap steel ball. With a renowned smile, the metahuman thrown it behind himself.

In the knee high water, Rothman began walking toward Grimm.

Bobby picked another strip of flesh off his arm and began nibbling on it nervously. He hated waiting like this. He wasn't bothered by the darkness or anything so silly as that, but the boredom got to him.

Rothman had told him earlier to not worry, and that he'd have plenty of flesh to share with him soon, but until then Bobby had to stay put at his station and wait until it was time. Not an easy thing to do when you haven't seen the sun in more than two years.

The sun hurt Bobby's eyes, anyway, and it made his skin grow too fast, made it difficult to control. Bobby had a unique talent among the denizens of the PIT -- it's why they began calling him "Skingraft," just like a comic-book character. Not those stoopid old comics, but the ones he grew up on in the '90s, mostly drawn by his favorite kickass artist, Rob Liefeld. Bobby wished Rob would draw him in a comic of his own, called Skingraft. Bobby could be a real good character.

"'Ey! Psst! Bobby!" a whispered voice said to him. Bobby looked up and couldn't see anyone there, but he knew it must be Sharlene. She was real good at moving around in the ventilation system.

"Yeah?"

"It's time, darlin'. Get y'rself ready for some action, OK?"

"Yeah, OK."

Sharlene was already gone.

Bobby stood up and left a layer of skin sticking against the wall as he did so. It was just a dead layer, though -- nothing he didn't need right now. He'd been getting himself ready for hours anyway, growing the skin he'd need for the mission Rothman was sending him on. Oh, he'd have a surprise or two up his sleeve when he met his enemies, though of course he meant that figuratively -- Bobby don't wear no clothes.

Leslie’s head spun as she tried to regain her balance. She looked around and found herself in an octagonal room with stone walls, ceiling, and floor. What the hell? It appeared to be the top floor of a medieval keep, and Leslie looked down with no small amount of surprise to find herself in a billowing late-medieval gown. She shuddered as she recalled the file she had been given on the Jabberwock. The insane killer could force his way into your mind, imposing his own twisted reality over your own perceptions and creating whatever scene he wanted in which to act out his bizarre killings.

Sure enough, the Jabberwock appeared across the torch-lit keep from Leslie, looking for all the world like the Mad Hatter. He let out a maniacal laugh. “Ahh, princess, look at you now! Locked up atop the Dark Tower with no one to save you! A delightful twist of fate, don’t you agree?”

“Look, you freak,” Leslie snapped, “I don’t have time for your games. I’m not some toy for you to play with at your leisure. Now get the hell out of my head and we’ll settle this like-“

“Enough!” Jabberwock cried. He yanked a spear from a dusty suit of armor chained to the wall and took several wild swings in Leslie’s general direction. Leslie dodged the spear but tripped over the hem of her gown and toppled to the floor.

“Was that your best stuff?” Leslie asked incredulously.

“Don’t be silly, princess!” The Jabberwock was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “I was merely hoping to frighten you out of your wits. Fear is far more entertaining than applause, after all. It puts me in the mood… for poetry. Yes!” Leslie felt around the floor, looking for a weapon, but the Jabberwock flung a massive battle-axe at her, embedding it into the stone wall inches from Leslie’s head. Leslie fell back, certain that she was indeed dealing with a homicidal maniac.

The Mad Hatter strode toward Leslie’s prone form, cackling fiendishly.

“Say, can thy noble spirit stoop
To join the gormandizing troop
Who find a solace in the soup?”

Leslie scampered backward across the stone floor of the keep as quickly as possible, but the long, ruffled skirts she wore in whatever fantasy the Jabberwock had imposed over her mind impeded her motion, giving the maniac more than enough time to catch up to her, still reciting Carroll mindlessly.

“Such wretches live: they take their share
Of common earth and common air
We come across them here and there…”

Leslie backed up until she collided with the unforgiving stone wall of the keep. The Jabberwock – still in the guise of the Mad Hatter – drew a long, wicked sword from an unseen scabbard as he advanced toward Leslie, his eyes wild.

“We grant them – there is no escape –
A sort of semi-human shape
Suggestive of the man-like Ape.”

For once in her life, Leslie was completely out of options. Her bag of tricks wasn’t in reach in this strange place inside her head, and she found herself completely at the mercy of a psychotic metahuman killer. She considered jumping to her feet, disarming the Jabberwock, and duking it out like she was used to doing. But she was pretty certain that depended on factors she couldn’t control now. The Jabberwock held all the cards, and he had no qualms with dealing an exceedingly bad hand.

All Leslie could do now was wait.

“In all such theories,” said he,
“One fixed exception there must be-“

The heavy wooden door burst open, revealing none other than Phil Smith, dressed head to toe in scarlet and wielding a gleaming blade of his own.

“-That is, the Present Company,” Phil finished for him. “Back away from her, and maybe I won’t mess you up beyond recognition.”

The Jabberwock whirled around. “That’s not the next line!” he screamed as he slashed at Phil wildly.

Phil parried the psychopath’s cut evenly. “You’re standing in the middle of The Scarlet Pimpernel, quoting Carroll’s Phantasmagoria. What do you care what the next line is?” The Jabberwock swung his sword at the telepath several more times, but Phil was more than quick enough to block or dodge his opponent’s attacks. “That’s interesting,” Phil remarked. “You’re perfectly calm as long as everything’s going your way, but once someone stops following the script, all that control just evaporates.” He parried several more thrusts from the Jabberwock. “Not uncommon at all, really. I’ve seen it plenty of times before.” Phil laughed. “You think you’re the first sadistic, murderous sonofabitch I’ve ever put in his place?”

The Jabberwock managed to regain some of his composure. “Finally! A worthy opponent!” He chuckled. “So where did you learn the art of the sword, good sir?”

Phil thought a moment as he blocked a low slash by the serial killer. “You know… I honestly couldn’t tell you.”

“Fair enough.” The Jabberwock snapped his fingers, and the world around Leslie flickered and vanished.

Leslie looked around frantically. She smelled salt water and salty air, and when her vision cleared she found herself in an English girl’s nightgown, trapped in a net suspended from the yardarm of a double-masted sailing ship.

The Jabberwock was standing on the deck of the ship beneath a skull-and-crossbones flag, shaking his fist at the sky. Or rather, shaking a metal hook where his hand should have been. The metahuman was wearing a long crimson dress coat with gold braiding and epaulets and had a waxed handlebar moustache, but rather than the wide-brimmed crimson hat Leslie expected any self-respecting Captain Hook to wear, the Jabberwock retained the Mad Hatter’s own black hat and the same maniacal laugh.

Leslie shook her head. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

The Jabberwock shook his hook and waved his long sword indignantly. “Come down here and fight me, Peter! No flying, that’s bad form!”

Leslie looked to her right. Her jaw dropped.

Phil Smith hovered in midair, decked out in green and brandishing a gleaming dagger as he taunted ‘Captain’ Jabberwock. He stopped and turned toward Leslie. “What?” He looked down at himself, then back at Leslie.

Leslie just sat there with her mouth hanging open.

Phil frowned. “It’s the tights, isn’t it?”

The Sideshow Freak made his way quickly through the building's ventilation system. He undulated his mass forward, not unlike a snake moving through the undergrowth. He remembered what the black armoured man calling himself Danny had said- he had to get to the main control room. To the computer terminals there. All they needed was one blackout. It didn't even have to last very long. Just enough time to let Glitch loose in the system.

The Freak was confused at first, but Danny told him that he had a plan. So he'll play along for now. If nothing else, letting the virus loose should be amusing.

The exoskeleton-clad body of Danny sat in the airvents, alone and silent. He heard voices, perfectly clearly through the layer of steel.

One of them was...

...Chance?

"...don't worry, flower ladies... there's plenty of Kristofer to go around..."

That damn hippy.

Danny's legs pushed against the top of the shaft and he shuffled forward, moving slowly in the confined space. He tried to find an opening, somewhere he could watch the festivities from.

Then, he could just wait for a moment. Out of sight.

Rothman charged at Grimm, running at him at a speed unimaginable for such a massive beings.

Grimm stood in position, to react to the brute force of the monster. That morning he had wrestled the dinosaur-like Knell, this one would be a greater opponent? From what he did to Edulcore, the leader of the Chicago massacre seemed smarter. Beyond the monumental mass of muscles, there was a functioning brain.

Yet, he was running at him blindly, like a mindless animal. Even his constant proclamations of metahuman superiority had completely stopped, and now he was just roaring like a jungle predator.

The impact over Grimm body was superior to what the skull faced being could imagine. They both rolled over the ground, ending at the opposite side of the corridor. They both started to punch at each other, while the water level was growing faster, the sprinklers pouring water at an unexpected rate.

Milton Mortimer was near the body of Cal Natchman, trying to bring him back to his sense. Edulcore, too, was still senseless.

The two heavy hitters were still fighting with their bare hands, at an event point. Each punch mirrored by an opposite punch, the water that was now at chest level was red with Rothman’s and Grimm’s blood. Many crackles were visible on the Vanguardian’s skull.

As the water level was continuing to rise, Grimm quickly gazed around to see the situation of his companions… and in a distant corner he saws Milton holding Cal Natchman so that his head was above the water. The Raptor was hitting with Ladnikia over the steel door at the other end of the corridor. Then, the light went down for what seemed a whole minute.

Troughout the darkness, Grimm and Rothman kept fighting like two mythical figure, locked in combat beyond life and death. Wjen the lights were back on, the water had filled completely the room, furniture floating around.

Grimm was totally concentrated in the battle, overcame by the inexplicable resilience of the meta. But finally, the monster got beyond the air reserve in his lungs. He gasped, his hands reaching his throat.

His eyes widened in a final, desperate glaze at his opponent, and then rolled up, his eyelids now completely calm.

His body slowly floated up, toward the ceiling.

Grimm looked around. The light were still on, revealing that they were designed to be watertight. At that was meaning that a complete water-filling of the room was a designed facility… and that it could have been Walker’s doing. Maybe.

Finally he saw it. His three companions were in the same corner of before… just up toward the ceiling. Cal was back to hi senses… and he was breathing in a small pocket of air in the top corner… along with Euro. And the air was produced by Milton, by the use of his gills.

Grimm went to the metal scrap ball where his axe was encased. With his bare hands he ripped it, freeing his weapon. And then, he began hammering the door, until it was broke open.

It tooks several minutes to empty. When the water was all gone, the four heroes were standing around the dead body of Rothman, lying on the wet rubbles of the corridor floor.

“One down” whispered Milton.

“Yeah. One down. Killed. KILLED!” shouted Edulcore, pointing his index finger at Grimm. “You told me to spare him, and what did YOU do? YOU killed HIM! My nemesis! The man who stole my revolution!”

Grimm stared at Edulcore. “Shut up, Ed. You have seen what we…”

“YOU SHUT UP! You stole my vengeance! You arrogant ass!” shouted Cicciotto even louder.

“Ed, that’s not the case. We have a job to…”

“YOU have a job! You and your sissies comrades. I have to find MY SON! And I will not let Walker make jokes on me. I am going to take him and leave. I am tired of you freaks!” And saying that, Euro juped away, flying fast trough the corridors.

“Damn!” shouted Grimm, running behind his teammate.

Mortimer Milton looked at them, and then, to Cal, ordered: “Follow them. I have to… uhm, check with Walker”.

With that, Cal Natchman fled behind Grimm.

Milton looked for a moment at Rotman’s dead body, motionless and decaying after just a few seconds. He smirked, and then began walking toward Tripp’s section.

All communication with Walker (and from Walker) were now impossible, due to Glitch’s taking complete control of the PIT’s network.

Something long planned was setting into motion.

The P.I.T. Wing

Grissom Montag wearily eyed the bulkheads that surrounded him. He'd already been attacked by a kid with shadow monsters and he, Velo, and EPS Agent Turner had been searching for the cyber-terrorist known as Glitch.

The halls had been completely darkened by Glitch's ability to wrestle partial control of the the facility away from I.G.O.R. From Griss' understanding, I.G.O.R. was one of the more advanced computer systems in the world... for Glitch to slowly begin to take control was nothing more than a statement of his pure power.

Velo quietly surveyed his surroundings, always keeping one eye on the stoic Turner... just in case. Turner kept his eyes straight ahead, never really veering to the left or to the right, but focusing on what lay ahead.

Noises emanated from the last cell, all the way in the back of the P.I.T. Wing. A low voice spoke forth from it, muttering quietly, yet calculatedly.

"What's that?" Velo asked, nodding his head toward the cell door.

"That's Dr. Bender..." Turner answered solemnly.

"What's 'is story?" Grissom asked. "Walker never did give us a straight answer..."

"He's insane..." Turner hissed in a whisper. "Dangerously so... quite possibily more dangerous than any other member of the P.I.T."

"Really?" Velo asked incredulously. "What's his metagene enable?"

"His metagene is still latent," Turner answered.

"Then why so dangerous?" Grissom probed. "And why not escape with the others?"

"Why so dangerous?" Turner asked. "If you were to talk to him for more than five minutes, I assure you, Mr. Montag, he could make you kill yourself before those five minutes were up..."

"...wow..." Montag's eyes grew large.

"He's one of the foremost geniuses in the world. Right up there with Walker," Turner nodded. "However, he's criminally insane."

"From what I've heard about Walker, the two have an awfully lot in common," Velo answered, deadpan.

Turner raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, his head cocked to the side and he whirled around. He heard a humming...

Grissom and Velo, noticing the change in Turner's demeanor, spun around... only to see a wall of spherical silver orbs, each with two blue orbs as "eyes". The I.G.O.R. drones hummed as they floated there, blocking Turner, Velo, and Grissom's exit from the P.I.T. Then, the three men noticed the color change. The lighted orbs that served as I.G.O.R.'s visual receptors changed from blue to orange... and, as the change took place, a high-pitched laughter emanated from the P.A. system that fed through the entire building.

"Glitch..." Velo said, his eyes narrowing.

"He's taken control of I.G.O.R. ..." Turner said in such a way as to make it impossible to discern his emotions.

"Oh, bloody 'ell..." Griss said as his two custom .45s materialized in his hands.

Observation Room Theta

Walker laid the unconcious form of Brianna out onto the observation table. She was a pretty little thing... probably the youngest member of Vanguard he'd seen to date. Not that he could pass judgement, however... he himself had a lad of sixteen on his 'payroll', so to point fingers would not only be moot, but would be altogether hypocritical.

Having been at one point in his career, a fairly influential figure in the field of genetic research and testing, especially in areas concerning the use of the metagene, Walker had heard of the Aisling Penitentiary, though it was usually whispered in hushed tones and spoken of in terms of conspiracy. However, since his taking up the position of the head of the EPS, Walker had learned that they was such a place as Aisling and that the experiments done on both humans and metahumans were inhumane and altogether horrible.

The few people that knew about them saw them as European spins on US institutions like the Zoo or the SideShow. They would be wrong. The Zoo only held to the incarceration of metahumans and the SideShow... well, the gladiator-style fights held there were hardly 'government-approved'.

Aisling, however, experimented on metahumans like Hitler experimented on the Jews. They tested the limits of what specific metagenes could do, spliced metagenes together in an effort to create the 'perfect metahuman'. All this in the name of scientific discovery. And, while Walker himself found metahuman testing to be a necessary endeavour... these people were not scientists. They were butchers in lab coats with PhD's and Walker did not approve.

After researching the members of Vanguard for this mission, he ran across Brianna Finola's record and recognized that she was an escapee from Aisling. She was a fugitive, much like amny of the members of his own team. Upon reading her records, Walker was intruigued... not for his own sake or the sake of science, but, oddly enough, out of compassion for this gentle creature.

And so, Walker readied his equpment and took out his notepad. He figured by now that Glitch had taken over I.G.O.R.s system, so he would have to rely on his own tools and his own brain, calculations, and memory to figure this one out...

...for her sake.

The Raptor flew down the corridors at speeds his teammates couldn't keep up with.

"Ed! Dammit, Ed!. . ." Grimm called after him, Nachtman following.

"What's wrong with Mr. Hawkman?" The EPS member referred to as "Insomnia Boy" asked.

"Uhhh, he's sick. Got a brain virus or something." Grimm answered.

"Oh, I hope it's not the fatal Theluvian brain virus. They eat their victim's brains from the inside outwards." Insomnia Boy mused.

"Sure kid. .." Grimm started to say as he rounded a corner. . .

. . .and ran straight into Vengeance and Reynolds.

"Hey!"

"Watch. . ."

"Dammit. . ."

" Two Ghost Riders?!" Insomnia Boy asked.

"Long story." Grimm answered.

"We're following the Sideshow Freak. He's escaped into the ventilation system." Vengeance informed his partners.

"I think I just killed Rothman." Grimm said, in response.

Reynolds' eyes widened at the statement.

At that moment several metallic orbs flew around the corner, halting in midair upon taking notice of the four men. The orange lit eyes scanning them ominously. "Targets locked."

"Oh, shit, it's Glitch!" Reynolds shouted.

Stun beams began firing from the orange orbs on the front of the spheres.

"This way!" the former gangbanger led the Vanguardians and Cal Nachtman down an adjacent corridor, the Glitch drones in fast pursuit.

"We should be safe this way-" Reynolds began as he rounded a corner and came face to face with. . .


. . .a group of seven foot flowers singing "It's a small world, after all. . ."

************************

Howard Bender sat in his cell, sketching with a piece of charcoal.

". . .things fall apart. The center cannot hold. Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.. ."

"Ah, I do love it when things come together. Pure art. Wouldn't you agree?" He stopped sketching and turned towards the end of his cell.

Something made a gutteral, inhuman response that might be described as vaguely reminiscent of chuckling.

Walker had finished with the measurements of Brianna's wings. He had written down the ratios of her humorus, radius, and ulna. The primary and secondary feathers were measured. There was something spooky about this girl's wings.

Walker began to draw blood from the vein in the left arm when he heard a yelp. Brianna was awake now -- he must have guess wrong at the amount of oxygen needed. "Welcome back Miss Fionnghuala."

It had been a while since anyone called her that. Well, at least it had been a while since anyone had said it right. "How did you...oh nevermind, the way Raptor's talking, you probably have a file on me, down to my favorite type of breakfast."

Walker didn't say anything, but loaded the tube of blood into the centrifuge. Brianna watched at the little cylinder began spinning. Walker realized the machine puzzled her. "It spins the blood down so that everything -- plasma, platelets, blood cells -- are all layered." Brianna still didn't understand. She'd have to ask Quantos about it later.

There was a pause. "You're from Aisling," he said, matter-of-factly. Brianna's face didn't look confused anymore. She eyed Walker suspiciously like an eagle. "I see you look interested."

"I was in there for three years," she said angerly.

"Five, actually."

Brianna was now surprised. "No...I was there three years. Brandon turned me in in 2000." How old was she then? Fifteen, maybe sixteen? God, she hated him for his curelty. "And now its 2003. Three years."

Walker shook his head. "You were also there from your birth in 1985 to your release in 1987." The centrifuge was done spinning. Walker drain the plasma, and then stuck a probe into the rest of the contents, which fed into a little machine connected to his PDA -- the one bit of machinery Glitch couldn't get to. "This DNA test will confirm it."

Brianna understood less of DNA technology than she did of just about everything else. "What -- did Ailsing leave its signature there?"

A beep came from Walker's PDA. "Yes." He showed Brianna a screen. There was a pie chart, divided into three parts: Columba livia, Homo sapians, and CGI. "This is a chart showing what your DNA is composed of." Walker realized Brianna's ignorance and slowed down. "Everyone has a different DNA code, but the closer realated two animals are, the more of their DNA is the same. A human DNA sequence closely matches a mouse, but it matches a chimpanzee even more. Do you follow?" Brianna nodded. She could soak up information easily, and altough she still had no clue why she was here, these new words were somewhat entertaining. "Your DNA is different."

"Right. Because I'm a meta," she said.

"Being a meta only accounts for a fraction of your DNA," said Walker. "Banshee, you make proteins that no mammels ever make. The bone structure in your wings is indentical to the pigeons used in labratories. Your circulartory system is different. Your aortic arch is backwards."

Brianna was getting angry, though she didn't know why. "So what does that have to do with Aisling?"

"Miss Fionnghuala, they've tampered with you since your conception. Thirty percent of you genome is from a damn pigeon."

Somehow, Brianna understood what he was saying. She didn't show it, she just stood there, thinking about supressed memories. "I suppose...there were others with me..."

"Whoever did this new exactly what DNA you needed. They knew not to touch your respritory system because of your metagene, but they knew to give to an avian heart. I dare say, there were probably a dozen that died before you before they knew what to do."

"Lucky me," said Brianna. "So...I'm still a meta, right?" She had spent years wanting to be human, and normal, and loved. Walker was telling her she was just a guiene pig. Now, Brianna was clinging to the fact that there was some spark of originality in her. Something to make her special, and not just a lab rat.

"Your sonic scream is your meta trait -- your only meta trait. But Aisling gave you the wings."

"Bastards," she said. "Brandon most of all."

Walker pricked up his ears at that. "Yes...that charming little brother of yours. Ailsing has him listed as well -- not that they did anything to him."

"He's listed?" Brianna's eyes narrowed. "For what?"

"Turning you in, of course. Aisling keeps tracts of the 'families' of some of their experiments anyways. Apparently, he changed his name, fled to America, and is funding Aisling's new labratory there." Brianna was surprised. Aisling was in the states now? "It's their third site, actually. The land near the one in Ireland became to populated to their taste."

Suddenly, a light went on in Brianna's head. "You said Brandon changed his name? And you know where he is?"

"Yes. But why would you --" Walker caught the red in Brianna's eyes. "Ah...well Banshee, you really are more dangerous than you look. How about this. It seems that Glitch has taken over IGOR. Be a dear, and knock out those pesky drones, and I promise to send you all the informatin you need."

Suddenly, Walker noticed Brianna looked less like a dove and more like a hawk.

Observation Room Theta

"Five drones are heading this way, Banshee, they mean to kill us both!"

Brianna was ready. Sure enough, five small probes, with orange lights on them, hovered towards Brianna. Their light beams versus her sound waves. "Come and get me, Glitch, freak against freak."

She rose to the air, like it was the first time she opened her wings. She was still recovering from what Walker told her, but deep, she was excited about it all. I'm not only a meta -- I've got animals running through my veins. She dodged the lasers, flicking her feathers and pulling her wing muscles in all sorts of new ways. Nothing could stop her. Nothing could --

BZZZZZZ!

One of the orbs hit her, stinging the tips of her feathers. Brianna spun around and began screaming. Like her flying, Brianna felt like she was experiencing it for the first time. She was picking up new tricks as she flew -- she could narrow her scream enough to fracture two of the orbs, and scrambled another so bad it crashed into a wall. She grabbed another orb by its blind sport, her fingers grasping it like talons. She flew against a wall, forcing the orb to disinergrate as she pressed it into the wall.

The last orb was far more tricky. It was the same one that had stung her earlier. It turned quickly and before Brianna could react it hit her again -- this time, into the muscle of her wing.

Brianna crashed into the ground and skidded on the floor, hitting medical equipment and knocking down computers. She slowed down and grabbed a small pipe she had knocked off a table.

She wanted to smash that orb -- smash it to bits.

It was instinct for her. A fish knows how to swim, a bird knows how to fly, and suddenly, Brianna knew how to sing. She screamed, twisting her mouth in ugly faces, forces the soundwaves to obey her. Walker was on the other side of the room, avoiding the threat from the drones. Every table next to him was vibrating. Pencils and pens were rolling on the floor, cups and mugs were falling off the tables, and the lights were flickering. The probe, still a dangerous length away, was too confused by the information to move. It didn't sense Brianna come up and hit it with the pipe. Her aim was poor and she really wasn't that strong, but after a few slams from the pipe, the last probe was stopped. "Walker?" said Brianna. Her voice was hoarse. She had screamed so badly, she sounded raspy, like her throat was bone dry. It scared her. "When will I get to learn --"

Walker was holding some gauze, and there was a tray of medical tools on the table. "Then again," she said, massaging her pulled muscles and pulling out her broken feathers, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be mended first."

[ 10-07-2003, 09:13 PM: Message edited by: Chewy Walrus ]

"Velo! Turner! Cover me!" Grissom Montag shouted over the blasts from the Glitch drones.

"What are you doing, Griss?" Velo asked training beams from his gauntlets onto two approaching Glitch drones.

"I'm downloading Glitch." Montag replied casually, porting his laptop into his hands as he sat beneath a computer console for cover.

Turner blasted electrical energy at several drones at once, frying their circuitry. They were immediately replaced however.

"Time to test out some new antivirus software, Glitch old boy." The Sandcrawler smiled.

****************

Vengeance's flaming sword cut a swath through the flower people as Glitch drones blasted down several more. Grimm, Nahctman, Raptor, Reynolds, Chance and Tweed all took no notice on the ensuing battle, lost within flowery visions created by Tripps reality distortions.

Mxy sat crosslegged upside down, singing more verses of cartoon jingles with cow/flower hybrids.

"Uncool, man! Uncool! Make love not war!" Tripps screamed at Vengeance and the Glitch drones.

As Vengeance hacked his way through the psycedellic garden, his motorcycle roared to life against the Glitch drones. A large plate shield morphed onto it's front as it barrled down the hallway. Chains appears from seemingly nowhere thrust from the bike and wrapped around one of the drones. It was spun very quickly and tossed into another approaching drone. Metal chuncked and electricity crackled as the machines crashed into each other and dropped to the ground, lifeless.

"Bloody 'ell!" Grissom exclaimed as he was destracted from his typing. "That bike's alive."

"I doubt that," Velo said while firing off a few more blasts from his gauntlets. "Probably just some high-tech remote technology. Such capabilities have been experiment with for years."

"Right," Montag said with little interest as he put his attention back towards the task of capturing Glitch.

The color of the "sky" around Grimm, Vengeance, and the EPS agents continously cycled through different shades of purple as Iron Butterfly's In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida played unceasingly.

"Your totally killing my high," Tripp said as hundreds of Munkins came running out of a toadstool. They began to climb and crawl all over the Spirit of Vengeance even as he cut through their numbers with his flaming swords. The blood of the constructs flowed like chocolate milk onto the pink grass. The Lolliepop Guild assaulted his back and helment as though their candies were medivel maces.

The vessel of retribution fought against the ever increasing weight of his opponents while his companions stood enthralled by the world around them. "AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Yellow energy bathed the area around Vengeance as he yelled out in defiance. He dropped his sword and began to grab Munkins by whatever he could get a hold of. Hair, legs, arms, necks. Furiously he flung them around the room. Still, his teammates stood in awe of the strange color and feelings that flowed through them.

Grabbing an armful of Munkins, Vengeance threw them at his allies. The men were knocked off of their feets and out of the hypnotic spell. "I feel like I'm going to be sick," Chance said as he struggled to his knees. With cobwebs still in their heads, the Vanguardians and EPS agents began to fight off the Munkin horde.

Tripp finally got his first good look at Grimm and Vengeance. "Oh no!" he cried out in terror. "No, man! No! This is some kind of bad trip! I'm losing it! I'm freaking out!"

The world around them began to distort and become dark. The Munkins became twisted and grotesque. Their hands were replaced with claws. Large fangs protruded from their gums. The cows slowly became more canine than bovine or plant.

"Werecows?" Mxy said in half disbelief, half uninterest.

Chance's thoughts finally began to gain some clarity as his meta-immune system created an antidote to the "drug trip" the metahuman known as Tripps had inflicted on him. It had taken a great deal of time, apparently, due to its ever-changing effects on him which his body had to fight off each time those effects changed. Now, however, he found himself not in the middle of a strange, hallucinogenic dream but what seemed to be a horrific nightmare!

"GAAAAHHHH!!!" he shouted as he looked down at himself. It wasn't just the surroundings, as the Glitch-drones and the transformed 'Munkins' everywhere fought on relentlessly against his teammates -- no, it was the fact that Chance was missing parts of his body. There were bite-size chunks torn from his flesh all over, and his clothes were in tatters. The flower-women (who had gained physicality because of Mxy) looked up at him with pupil-less eyes, blood dripping from their mouths as they chewed on his flesh.

Now, Chance wasn't the type of guy to hit a woman, but these leeches weren't women, so he swung his fist against them and threw them off of himself by kicking out. His wounds would heal quickly enough. Standing now for the first time in a while, he looked around and finally located his 'stun-gun'. There were several settings: one could project a gas capsule which could knock out anything in an enclosed area such as this one, while others would project darts with a specially-created poison which caused immediate paralysis. It was this second setting he used now.

The only problem was that it was only effective against actual living creatures. Glitch's drones and the Mxy-produced Munkins were immune.

"This just gets better and better," he said sarcastically to Grimm as the two stood back-to-back, each fighting off the Munkin horde in their own ways. After several moments as the numbers of their enemies just seemed to increase and increase, Chance shouted over the din, "This is useless, team! We need to cut this off at the source! Tripps seems to be tapping into Mxy's magic and general craziness to make all these hallucinations into physical reality. Someone get Tripps, and -- Mxy! We need you to change back into Mick! Say the word! Now!"

Mxy was currently engaged in conversation with Father Time and the Cow That Jumped Over the Moon and barely heard anything else said to him.

"MXY! We need you, pal! Snap out of it!"

"Spiders, man! Spiders are all over me! Bad trip!" Tripps screamed as large black, shiny spiders descended from the ceiling, covering the Vanguard and EPS members.

Turner took a short break from frying Glitch drones to fiddle around in his belt pouches. Fiding what he was looking for, he blasted an approaching drone with his free hand.

"Montag! Catch!" he shouted, as with perfect aim, he tossed a computer disk over to the waiting hands of the Sandcrawler.

"Right, on mate." Grissom responded, inserting the disk into his portable custom built system.

<<< Now uploading I.G.O.R.. . . >>>

"Now then, I.G.O.R., help me run some antivirus programs on this copy of Glitch I've got here. . ."


"This has got to stop. . ." Chance muttered to himself as he aimed his stun gun at Tripps.

A shadowy black hand grabbed his wrist knocking his aim off course, as shadow fist punched him in the jaw.

"More of them. Great." he thought to himself, while wrestling with the shadow limbs.

Midway upon the journey of his life Euro found himself within a forest dark, for the straightforward pathway had been lost.

Gone forever were the strawberry fields, and in the sky Lucy and the diamonds set beyond the horizon, and a starless night wrapped up the world.

On the dirty dusted yellow brick path, Edulcore met Red Riding Hood, who lend him a toad to lick. The amphibian skin was velvety and wet, and the Raptor absorbed the rich aroma with satisfaction, the constant whispering of the sword finally put at rest.

“Kid, where this path will bring me?” asked the Vanguardian. “Across the alley of columnar beeches, you’ll find the Tree of Knowledge. Stay on path, don’t wander in the forest to seek for the Holy Mushrooms, or the Bad Wolf will take you!”
Cicciotto bowed in front of the child, and left.

The Tree stood in the distance, with its candles and electric lights… but not far from the path Euro spotted many fungi… big mushrooms with bright red caps, white spotted. The mushrooms of the shamans… the way for the land of the deaths…

…mmmhhh, delicious… though Euro, biting one. And one after the other, he kept going further in the darker recess of the forest… as he was moving away from the path, the fungi were growing bigger… and taller…

There was a large mushroom growing near him, about the same height as himself; and when he had looked under it, and on both sides of it, and behind it, it occurred to him that he might as well look and see what was on the top of it.
He stretched himself up on tiptoe, and peeped over the edge of the mushroom, and his eyes immediately met those of a large caterpillar, that was sitting on the top with its arms folded, quietly smoking a long hookah, and taking not the smallest notice of her or of anything else.

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

“Me? Quite frankly, at the moment, I don’t know. Man or monster, meta or demon, who knows?”

The Caterpillar gave Euro the pot. “Here, take a drag!”

The Raptor lend his hand, but what the Caterpillar placed in it, was a glass bowl filled with water and fake snow. Just, instead of the Coliseum or the Eiffel Tower, there were three little figures: a woman, Captain Hook and Peter Pan. Hook and Peter were fighting a duel, and both had the facial features of… Phil Smith?

“What does this mean?” asked Euro.

“Nothing it’s what it seems!” was the obscure answer. “But for any of your question, there is an answer… there!” The Caterpillar pointed at the Tree.

“Hummm… thank you” said Edulcore, and began walking toward the tree.

Under the tree there were Mxy talking to the Cow That Jumped Over the Moon, which sported the face of Jack Keruac. “Help me, and those hew-mans will stop to harm your fellow metas. You know it. You know how much evil the norms have done to you and your friends. You have just to lift away this PIT, shift it away from Chicago and bring it to Antarctica. There is your friend Naecken, remember? He is waiting for you and your friends, Euro, Tc, Danny… just want it, and we’ll be there all of a sudden…”

When the Raptor arrived, Jack Keruac stopped his conversation with the transdimensional Vanguardian, and turned toward the Italian meta. “Ed, what pleasure… and what a pleasure that you brought me your enchanted sword… I have a use for it, you see…”

Suddenly down from the tree fell an enormous serpent, while, from behind the trunk, appeared a big wolf.

“Jormangund. Fenris. Took the sword, and his life!” ordered Jack Keruac. Both creatures jumped at Euro, their mouths spread open, their fangs pointed out.

But what Euro saw was different. The creature were two persons, a sleek and tall woman, and a big man, naked, that seemed formed of many layers of decaying skin.

The Raptor took flight. As if they were expecting the move, the big man took the woman between his arms, and threw her in air, like a human dart. Euro heard the man calling her Charlene.

The impact was hard. The woman grasped Edulcore’s throat, and was suffocating him, while he was trying to keep a steady flight.

The Raptor went into a loop. The woman loose her grip, fell, but was able to grasp one feet of the man at the last moment.

Euro fought with the air to reach at higher quote, in a back sky that he knew it was just Mxy’s creation.

Then he retracted the feathers, and his hand ran at the hilt of Ladnikia. Freed from the scabbard, the sword hammered implacable over the head of the woman, splitting it into two halves, that fell at the man feet, followed closely by the body.

Euro screamed victorious, Bobby, the Skingraft, cried in rage for the pain of the death of his woman, and hate for the flying man.

His skin began piling up, layer over layer, his form enlarging and becoming twisted, bulking, rising above the ground, ready to smash what it was now just a fly, for him.

The Jabberwock swung his sword wildly as Phil flitted back and forth over his head. “Come on, Peter! Come down here and fight old Hook fairly!”

“For the last time,” Phil growled, “I’m not Peter Pan, and you’re not Captain Hook. I don’t have time for your damned delusions!”

It doesn’t make sense, Phil thought to himself. Jabberwock should be holding all the cards. He can impose his own reality in the mind of anyone he wishes. Yet, he’s letting me do this to him. Why? Then it hit him. I’ve been thinking about this all wrong. Jabberwock may be a meta and a telepath, but ultimately he’s a killer, like all the rest. He kills for the thrill of it. He likes the chase, he likes playing the game. If I simply refuse to play, then…

Jabberwock was getting frustrated. “Oh, come now! I don’t have time to do this! I’ve other matters to attend to!”

“Phil!” Leslie called. Phil turned. “He’s trying to go after the others!” She pointed at a seemingly empty spot in the sky. “I see the Italian – he’s looking at us through some sort of a window!” She paused. “This isn’t just about us! You’ve got to shut Jabberwock down before he takes everybody out!”

Phil frowned. “I’ve been trying to stop him! I can’t! He’s got to be an Alpha-class telepath!”

“What class are you?” Leslie demanded.

Phil paused. “I don’t know.”

“Then how do you know you can’t stop him?”

Phil thought a moment.

“Good point.”

He turned to Jabberwock, who was still jumping and flailing at him with the sword. “Look, you sonofabitch. I don’t have time to play your damn games. You wanna settle this? You wanna take me down? Quit wasting my time with unimpressive fantasies and let’s get this over with!” Phil snapped his wrist downward and flung his dagger at the Jabberwock.

The dagger sank into the shoulder of ‘Captain Hook’, who yelped in pain… then pulled the dagger from his shoulder, leaving behind absolutely no sign of damage, except for a smear of blood – which he licked off the blade. “Oh, bugger,” Jabberwock cried. “You’ve gone and made me angry!”

He waved his hand, and the world disappeared again. Leslie looked around frantically, hoping she hadn’t been placed in some weird mental Phantom Zone or something of that sort.

She found herself sitting at a table in the middle of a meadow. The table was set with tea and crumpets, oddly enough. Leslie looked down and found herself in some sort of a rabbit costume. The Marsh Hare? The Jabberwock was, of course, the Mad Hatter, and sat across the table from her, grinning madly. Leslie turned to see Phil approaching… in a blue-and-white dress and a blond wig. He stopped in his tracks, inspected himself, and frowned.

“You really have some serious unresolved sexual issues, don’t you?” Phil said flatly.

The Mad Hatter only cackled and jumped to his feet. “Aha!” he cried. “Our party guest is here!” He smiled. “Perhaps we can finish this so I can attend to all your friends.”

Phil nodded. “I concur,” he said.

The Jabberwock bounced up and down on his toes with anticipation as he pulled a dagger from his coat. “Wonderful!” He took a step forward, waiting for Phil to make his move.

Phil simply stood there and held one hand up, as if checking the direction of the wind. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Leslie heard porcelain rattling. She looked down to see that the table – no, the ground was shaking.

The Jabberwock looked around nervously. “What? You can’t do that! You can’t!” He stamped his feet. “No fair! No fair!”

The sky and the ground began rippling and stretching as though they were merely matte paintings. A stiff breeze started blowing, and Phil looked up and smiled.

“That’s cheating!” Jabberwock cried. He dropped his dagger and turned to run.

“Have a nice trip,” Phil said coldly. He lifted one hand and pushed it toward the Jabberwock.

“Nnnyyyahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” The Jabberwock lifted off the ground and flew through the air as the table overturned and the ground started lifting up like old carpet. Leslie fell to the ground as the Jabberwock collided with and tore through the matte-painting sky, tumbling into empty white space beyond until everything suddenly went dark.

Leslie came to and found herself back in the PIT, lying on the ground a few feet from where Phil stood. She turned the other way and saw a gaunt man with a hawklike nose and pronounced facial features running toward them. “Phil!” she cried.

Phil turned and suddenly fell to the ground.

He found himself standing in the middle of empty white space resembling what the Jabberwock had fallen into in Leslie’s head. Except Phil noticed one major difference – he (and presumably the Jabberwock) were now inside his head.

The Jabberwock stood there and frowned. Both he and Phil looked exactly the same as they would in reality. “Blast!” Jabberwock cried. “Don’t I have control here?”

Phil wasn’t sure what to say. He felt paralyzed – he couldn’t move his arms or legs at all.

The Jabberwock shrugged and pulled out his dagger. “No matter,” he snapped. “I’ll soon be rid of you, you pest!”

He took about three steps toward Phil before colliding with some sort of translucent blue forcefield. “What the-“

A voice blared in Phil’s head. <<Defensive systems activated. Commencing intruder purge sequence.>>

The Jabberwock dropped to his knees and held his head in both hands. “Aghhhhh!” He looked up at Phil. “What are you???” He fell flat on his face as pain overwhelmed his brain. “Nooooooooo!!!”

Without another sound, the Jabberwock vanished.

<<Intruder eliminated>>, the voice said. <<Standing down…>

There was a bright flash, and Phil found himself back in reality, back in the PIT. He looked around and saw Leslie there, unharmed.

“What happened?” Leslie asked, amazed.

Phil shook his head. “I… I don’t know. I didn’t do anything!”

Leslie spun around. “There he is!”

Sure enough, the Jabberwock was getting to his feet and staggering toward them. Phil turned to face him.

The thin man pointed a trembling finger at Phil. “You… you’re… some kind of… machine…”

Leslie’s eyes widened. “What does he mean?”

Phil drew in a breath. “I’m… not… sure.” He set his jaw. “I don’t want to know.”

The would-be killer held up his hands feebly. “You… don’t… want to hit me! Beware!”

Phil punched him in the face.

The telepath slumped to the ground. “Beware… the… Jabber-“ His voice trailed off as he slipped into merciful unconsciousness.

“How did you beat him?” Leslie asked after a long moment.

Phil shrugged. “He’s stronger,” he said without turning around. “He’s got finesse, he’s got experience, and he’s got no problem with killing people. But,” he said as he turned to face Leslie, “he had to worry about controlling everyone, while I only had to face him. I was counting on his being distracted and overextended. I realized that he’s like any serial killer – he’s in it for the thrills. If I didn’t play along, if I didn’t run and hide or try and fight by his rules, he got really pissed off. Between being so angry and so distracted, he was bound to let his guard down sooner or later.”

“But what did you do?” Leslie asked insistently. “How did you get him out of my head?”

“You’ve got powers, too,” Phil explained. “You have a reservoir of latent energy that wasn’t getting tapped. I drew on that, and I used my own power, and I threw him out. Brute force. Jabberwock may be tougher than any one of us, but against combined energy – especially in his overextended state – he didn’t stand a chance.” Phil looked down. “By the way, I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

Leslie walked up to him. “Me too. Especially since you just proved me wrong.” She put a hand to Phil’s face. “You could have just taken care of Brianna and gotten out of Dodge. But you risked yourself to save me.”

Phil shrugged. “No big deal. It’s what I do.”

Leslie nodded. “I know.”

Phil looked around. “Where’s Brianna?”

Leslie spun around and searched frantically for the missing girl. “I don’t see her.” Then it hit her. “Walker. Walker must have taken her.”

“Why?” Phil demanded.

“Walker’s looking for unique metas,” Leslie explained. “He collects them and studies them. He might want to do experiments, and-“

“Where would Walker be?” Phil asked.

“I… I don’t know,” Leslie stammered. “Maybe the Specimen Lab, but…”

“Specimen Lab,” Phil repeated. “Where’s that?”

“It’s up a few levels,” Leslie answered, “but I don’t think…”

Phil turned and headed off in the other direction. “Elevators.”

“What?”

“Elevator shafts,” Phil said. “Where are they?”

“You’re not thinking of going after them, are you?” Leslie asked incredulously.

“Sure I am,” Phil replied. “Are you coming?”

“You can’t be serious!”

Phil shrugged. “I could always leave you here with him.” He pointed to the unconscious form of the Jabberwock.

Leslie hurried to catch up. “This is insane!”

“Probably.”

"You must do as I say! Obey! Obey!" Jack 'The Cow That Jumped Over The Moon' Keruac said to Mxy.

"Mmmm-hmmm..." Mxy replied, pretending to be be paying attention.

"MXY!" Chance yelled, running towards Mxy from the magical funky forest with his Calvin Klein long-sleeved shirt shredded to pieces, and his chest covered with small cuts and bruises.

"CHANCE! How are you, good friend!" Mxy said. Mxy doesn't actually like Chance that much, he just wanted to get rid of the cow. Mxy had never met such a boring cow in his life, and most of the cows he knew couldn't even talk and much less dance. This one seemed capable of doing both things, but still it bored Mxy to tears. When someone or something bored Mxy, he usually turned them into cows. That didn't help much this time. His other option was making the cow's head blow up, but... well, it was still a cow. And cows rock.

"Mxy, you must fight Tripps' control! Stop this insanity!" Chance begged.

"Whu? I don't understand what you're saying... Chancey-pants, had I known you were this random I wouldn't have avoided and ignored you all this time!"

"What?"

"Uuuuh... Want a jelly doughnut?"

A jelly doughnut appeared on top of Chance's head.

"No!" Chance said throwing the doughnut to the floor. "Mxy, are you trying to tell me that Tripps isn't controlling you?"

"...nooooooooo... Hey, now that I think about it, someone did try to confuse me a couple of twinkies ago... But the confusion got lost in my mind and ended up in parking lot in New Jersey playing poker with some hobos."

"I suppouse that makes sense..." Chance said, rubbing his chin. "But, then, why did you make those Flower Monsters real?"

"...Cause they're made of flowers..." Mxy answered, matter-of-factly.

Chance was about to yell at Mxy, but he surpressed the anger. "Mxy, the person that created those monsters and this whole enviroment is our enemy. He's trying to kill us."

Mxy looked around. Pink-blue-green-pants sky, tiny fingers instead of grass, singing bearded trees and rock and roll animals running around. He looked at Chance again. "You mean I didn't create this enviroment?"

"No, our enemy did."

"Did he scratch your chest and tear your clothes like that too?" Mxy asked, pointing at Chance's wounds.

Chance smiled as he remembered his... fight with the flower ladies. Then he snapped out of it. Maybe the chemicals were affecting him again. "No, but he IS attacking our friends as we speak..."

Mxy closed his eyes and concentrated. Suddenly, the whole world around them started... folding in. In a few seconds, Chance found himself in front of the rest other Vanguardians, Tweed, Reynolds and Cal Natchman. Standing near them was a confused Tripps. His acid-trip land was no more. They were back on the corridor they were in before the hallucinations started.

"HEY!," the hippie protested, "Who turned my trip off, man? That's not cool, man!"

"That was me," Mxy said. "I'm MXY." He stood in front of Tripps, who narrowed his eyes. They looked at each other like cowboys in a duel about to draw their guns.

"I'm gonna kill you for that, dude," Tripps said very seriously.

Mxy looked at him. "You guys can go ahead if you want," he said to Chance and the others, "...I'm gonna stay here and deal with this little man by myself."

Interlude


Penial colony New Cairo Teraforma in the Earth secter.
2003 A.P.(After Praxis)
time 4:30 pm. cst
The bleak Twilight world of New Cairo, would seem as an uninhabitable mass of desert and rock. Baron and Devoid of life, except for the Ras city of Cairo near the palnets equator.


“Wake up you stupid fuck. Damn it Phil you better not be dead .” came the cold echos of a mans voice.

“Wake the fuck up, you stupid shit!” the man said as his hand came across Phils face. The resounding “SLAP!” echoed in Phils ears.

“Open those fucken Wierd eyes of yours.” the voice was fantic now.

“Poly he’s fine, we have him on the E.E.G.” the voice of a young woman said.

Why cant I wake up? Come on eyes open! I said open damn it !

The man huddled in blood opened his eyes, slowly first the left and than the right.

As his eyes adjusted to the light.
Not much light only 25 candela, Damn I must be inside , Polys house I’ll bet.

“Your Awake I thought you where dead “ Poly said,

Poly reached for something in his coat. Finding what he was looking for he throu the cigarettes at Phil.

“Have one!”he said as he pulled the lighter from his pockette.

“You know we Fucked this one up big time !” Poly said as he turned to find an ashtray.

“Lord Praxis is gonna have our heads for this.” Poly said

“Fuck Praxis! and for that matter fuck all the Offworlders...” Phils spat.

Poly cut Phil a look, a look that could have cut the very “Sandstone of Ren”.

“Except for you And Manda , of course . You know i would be lost with out you two.” Phil said.

“Why cant Praxis just leave New Cairo alone, What is he looking for anyways?” Phil said.

[I]What could be so damn important that the Overlord would come here, what with the Problems in sector 19 and all.

And in other news Two men armed with light Automatic Weapons atempted a dareing robbery at a bank in The City of Ras today, New Cairo police said that it would seem that one of the suspects was badly injured when he fell on his weapon and caused it to discharge... all of it’s ammonution. Susan , and now the wheather.

“Damn it Phil, it's all over the news now. Let me see your wounds.”
Poly said.

Phil removed his shirt. Revealing Smooth unharmed skin.

“This can’t be right . I saw you fall and herd all 300 shots and the blood.”Poly said.

Phil reached for his lighter, finding it in his Breast pockette he struk it and watched the flame dance before lighting his cigarette.

“Poly is Praxis still here?” Phil asked.

”Yea and I’ll bet he’s looking for us. if he finds us we’re dead. you got that Phil D.E.A.D., oh he’ll make it look like some kinda accdent you know that. Just like Mekil.. the Poor bastard never saw it comming.” Poly said with a sad tone.

“Umm Poly didn’t you take that contract?” Phil asked.

Poly just shook his head.

“Well if we are gonna survive than we have to get off world.” Poly said.

End Interlude

Vengeance swung his leg off of his bike. Reynolds's eyes searched the dimly lit corridor. Emergency power had been turned on, and the backup lights were not as bright as the normal ones. Shadows danced everywhere around them. The Spirit's yellow aura illuminated the immediate surroundings.

"Shouldn't we have brought the rest with us?" the young EPS agent finally asked. He was concentrating a spot light style beam on the hall in front of them.

"They're busy," was the only reply. His bike stood upright on it's own and followed close behind him. Its engine was a low, rhythmic grumble as its headlight pierced the blackness around them.

Almost unnoticeable, a shadow moved. Vengeance thrust his body towards the moving darkness with his flaming blade striking before him. A burst of fire ignited before him as SideShow Freak's outer layer went ablaze. A gurgling scream of anger was let loose from the creature as it struck out in retaliation. Tar engulfed in fire swatted the spirit off to the side.

Reynolds fired his gun several times with no effect. He knew that somewhere in the middle of all that gunk sat the actual, physical body of the once man who had been turned into this monster. The tar and ooze was simply a covering, a shell that hid the true form. The mind that controlled and commanded the shell was the only weakness. The problem was finding it. Freak could easily shift and move the body constantly to prevent any harm from coming to it.

The young agent now found himself the target for the creature's rage. Morphing into the form of an ogre carrying a battle axe, the Freak began to charge the agent. Reynolds threw up a barrier of light that masked his position and quickly ran for cover. The ogre chopped at the air with his axe attempting to strike someone or something.

A bright yellow flame struck its right arm and sliced clean through. The fallen limb merely turned into a puddle and merged back with the source. Freak swatted at Vengeance again, who was able to duck this blow. The motorcycle came roaring down the hallway with chains emerging. The unbreakable links encircled one of the Freak's legs. The ogre came tumbling down as its leg was ripped out from under him. The form on the floor began to bubble like a witch's cauldron with flames dancing along the surface.

"Emotional mortal," Vengeance thought to himself. "Very emotional. His control over his form is affected too easily by it." He sheathed his sword inside his coat and turned his back on his opponent.

SideShow Freak seized his opportunity. His form lifted off the floor and projected itself like a missile towards his foolish foe. As he approached, a face stared out at him from the creases within the Spirit's white coat. A female face of tenderness and compassion. A face that was welcoming and kind. A face that eased the most troubling pain. A face that was all too familiar to the man who became the angry beast. His attack halted, the Freak fell to the floor. The noise bubbling from him sounded not of anger, but of pain and sorrow. He laid motionless in the corridor.

Reynolds came out of hiding with a fire extinguisher. Dousing the Freak this time caused no reaction or attempt at escape. Instead, the tar-like exterior crystalized as the fire was smothered. "That should take care of him," the young man said uneasily as he had no idea what had just occurred. "What now?"

His balance slipped away from him as Vengeance grabbed and hoisted him onto the back of the other-worldly motorcycle. "Raptor!" the Spirit said as they sped away.

La Perdita

"Where have you been?" Tayden asked as he took off his apron. "It was my turn to do the dishes," the ex-angel said as a pre-emptive move.

Dirk just looked on, uninterested. "Away," he replied.

"Doing what?"

"Taking care of business," the gunslinger said as he opened the door to his room.

"Really?" Tayden asked, guinely interested. "What kind of business?" His answer came in the form of a door slamming in his face. He frowned and looked towards the ceiling. "I really should have expected that by now."

Meanwhile, Back at the Island

Mason Templar landed on La Perdita with the morning arrivals. He couldn't help but be noticed -- his tall, lean-but-muscular physique, his somewhat antiquated style of clothing, his golden beard and long hair -- he looked like an ancient king who had stepped out of a storybook and had barely bothered to adjust his clothing to modern standards. He wore none of the vain baubles that the kings of the later middle ages and the Renaissance wore, but seemed more suited to a barbarian king's mode of wear, his clothing made almost entirely out of leather, suede, fur, and other animal skins, including leather gloves which he was never seen without. The only thing missing was his sword. This was easily rectified, however, once his luggage was picked up. Swords weren't usually allowed on any flights due to the problem of terrorists -- meta- or regular -- but Templar had permits for the sword from every major nation in the world.

He took his sword out of the box he'd put it in before the hotel valet could take it to his rooms, and he regarded the one-time object of war before him which had slain hundreds of men but which was now considered little more than a museum piece. Mason Templar was an expert on all things antiquarian. As a collector himself, he was called upon by the museums of the world as a consultant. Usually these consultations had to do with determinining the correct era of an artifact (his specialty was the Middle Ages, but he branched out from there), but occasionally, as now, he had to deal with certain... illegalities. It had been one such illegality that had brought him in search of help for his problem, and it was that illegality which would cause him to cross paths with Vanguard International.

"Should I help with the luggage, Mr. Templar?"

Mason Templar smiled kindly down at the dark-haired, sickly-looking boy. "No, m'boy, I thank you for the offer, but you must conserve your strength at the hotel. Now rest. I will be back very soon, you can count on that."

"Thank you, Mr. Templar."

"Please, Absalom -- call me Mason."

The boy gulped with wide eyes. "Y-yes, Mr. M-Mason..." At that, he scampered off after the hotel valets wheeling the luggage to the hotel next to the airport.

Without any further adieu, Mason Templar grasped the scabbard and adjusted it to his belt buckle, then walked up the hill toward the Vanguard International Complex for his appointment with Miss Xiang. If he was going to meet the Vanguardians for the first time -- even if it was only the smaller part of the group -- he might as well make a good first impression.

Some time after, in the meeting room…

“So, Mr. Templar, could you care to explain how Vanguard International can be of help for you?” asks Miss Xiang, sitting at one end of the long table. Behind her, standing and with an ice cold expression, the oriental warrior Nuriko impose her presence as the guardswoman of the metahuman company CEO.

The leather and fur clothed, golden bearded man sits at the other end of the table, a leather briefcase opened in front of him. On the two sides of the table are the giant African-American ex soldier from the future, Priest, the ex special operative Dirk Bell, the physically impaired ex-vigilante Marshall Drake, the ex officer of the Russian red army Sonja Ljzavet, now known as Nadia, the ex angel Tayden, the ex juvenile detection center inmate Tobias Christopher.

But it’s not for what they were that Mason Templar has come. It’s for what they are: Priest, able to absorb and then shot any kind of energy, Dirk Bell, infallible marksman and heavy armory expert, Drake, the host person for a transdimension dragon, Drax, Nadia, invincible martial arts fighter, Tayden, master of empathy, and T.C., the fastest man alive. Together, they are Vanguard International.

“Uhm, well, Miss Xiang, as I explained before, I work for many museums and collections of the world… usually giving expertise over artifacts of various ages… sometimes doing… well, we could say… intelligence… to recover lost treasures. In this case, I am on the tracks of a bowl… that a few expert consider the mythical cauldron of ancient Celtic lore. It was on display at the New Museum of Thunder… Thunder City, USA… when the night of November, 11th, 2001, it was stolen. One of the guard was killed, also.
I have done many investigations, and all pointes to another guard, that since that night was missing… Derek Patrick. Coincidence wants that man was captured a few moths ago, here in La Perdita, and by one of your associates, Mr. Grimm. He is a meta, with the ower of growing blades from his arms. He was then extradited to the tiny nation of Espertingonzia, in the European Alps, between Switzerland and Austria.
Well, he evaded yesterday, before I could go there to find any evidence of the whereabouts of the cauldron. So, I am asking you to find Patrick, and “ask” him about the cauldron. And repossess it.”

Tayden looks at Miss Xiang. “Shouldn’t we go to Promethean City to help with the disaster?” he asks.

“That would be unlikely. Many of you are still wanted or persona-non-grata in the USA… plus there is the Strikeforce 1 on that, right now. I appreciate your sense of commitment, Tayden, but that kind of intervention is not what we are prepared for… while we need to financing ourselves for things that await us, I am sure. Anyway, who agree for accepting this assignment?” asks Miss Xiang.

All the arms are raised.

“Good. Since neither the leader, nor the second are here, I am taking the liberty of assigning the monitor duty… and it goes to you, Tobias.”

The speedster jumps from his seat. “Thisisnotfair. Ihavebeenonmonitordutymorethananyelsehere. I wanttogoonmission!”

“TC, should I remember you that monitor duty means guarding for the headfquarter not to be attacked by our enemies? After Mxy, you are the most powerful one here. If just one person can stay here, that one can be just you!”

“Thatsnotfair!” mumbles Tobias, exiting the door.

Miss Xiang stands up. “Very well, if there are no other questions, you have half an hour to prepare and depart with the hovercraft. Mr. Templar will accompany you.”

EPS Headquarters

Kristogar Velo sat back against the wall for a moment, loosing his chest plate he was finally able to breathe better. One of the flower creatures penetrated his armor and sliced deep into his chest. Unlike Chance, no healing factor would quickly fix or ease the pain he is in. Bringing up one of his gauntlets Velo shook his head in disbelief, he power cells were all but depleted. Without a proper recharge, and one fast, his suit would be all but useless. Not good considering the current situation. Not good at all. Looking up, Velo’s eyes became fixated on a Glitch drone flying directly towards him. With in a foot of distance, Velo swung his chest plate and crushed the drone against the cold steal wall.

Kristofer fell back, covering Grissom. Looking around he noticed that Vengeance and Reynolds were gone. “Just what we need,” Schanz whispered to himself, “another Dirk.” He turned towards Grissom, “Good news?”

Montag shrugged his shoulders, “We’re not dead yet.”

Schanz surveyed the area and attempted to think of ways to block off the drones passage way. Light blinded his eyes from Turner who was in over drive blasting dozens of Glitch Drones as they entered the darkened hallways. Schanz squinted his eyes and saw what appeared to be a yellow light rip into Turner’s body. For a moment things were too bright and upon reopening his eyes, Schanz was face to face with Turner.

“The program is too powerful for you to comprehend”

Thousands of volts traveled through Schanz’s body as his very cells felt like they exploded with the force of a nuclear blast. Somehow, Schanz, the man also known as Chance, survived. His cells fighting, struggling, to heal as the electricity ate away at them. Anyone else would have been dead, but still he fought. If there were anytime for his healing factor to hold up, if only for a minute, this would be it. The electricity stopped and Schanz’s body hit the ground hard. He was able to push his body up into a kneeling position, his blood soaked teeth grinding against each other and a fire in his eyes.

“Glitch am I” the man once know as Turner said.

Schanz was hit with another blast, but this time fought his way to his feet.

“Allow me” a voice asked and Grimm’s axe struck Turner with a hollowing echo. The ex-agent flu through the air from the force of the axe but landed perfectly on the wall in an upright standing position. Glitch/Turner’s eyes lit up with a mix of red and yellow energy that formed a fire like color.

Grimm stepped towards the villain, the black of his eye holes at a direct connection with Glitch/Turner’s. No words needed to be spoken. Everyone took cover as the two titans clashed…

“Raptor!” the Spirit said as he and Reynolds sped away on the otherworldly motorcycle.

Edulcore Cicciotto was flying around the giant form of Skingraft, which was trying, hopeless, to catch him like a fly. But when the hallucinogen induced reality of Tripp faded, the Italian heroes stopped to see, alone, the truth behind the dream, and his usual damnation of looking at the battle trough one heroes of the past kicked in.

He closes his wings, landing right in front of the giant form of Skingraft, who opens his eyes wide, in disbelief, when the winged warrior put the sword back in his scabbard and began looking at the floor, in search of an impossible to find rock for his imaginary sling. Because now, Raptor believed to be David, and the giant in front of him Goliath.

Skingraft prepared to smash Raptor under his feet.

The young Cal Natchman, paralyzed by the interruption of the chain of command, and the lack of orders, stared at the attack of the enormous Clayface at Hawkman.

……………………………………

Grimm raised his axe, ready to clash it back over the Glitch possessed Turner.

Near the imminent duel place, a new swarm of Glitch drones were making their way toward the mortally tired Kristogar Velo, Kristofer Schanz, Grissom Montag and Boss Tweed.

……………………………………

Phil and Leslie came out of the elevator shaft in the Specimen lab, to see Charles Walker, holding metallic instruments in both hands, bending over the lying form of Brianna over an examination couch.

But before anyone could say anything, the ground began trembling, and then shaking, like high magnitude earthquake was striking.

……………………………………………

Mxy was standing in front of Tripp. His legs opened wide than normal, his hands open and kept a few inches from his hips, a big Stetson replacing his usual top hat, the otherdimensional being was doing his best spaghetti-western impersonation.

What the little man could be able to do, was thinking Mxy. And a smile appeared on the fifth dimensional face.

But, like in a mirror, a similar smile appeared on the face of Tripp.

And the light went off.

All it was black.

"Ohh ohh ohh! Scary night! Mommy mommy, it’s all so dark here!" joked Mxy, crying hysterically like a kid.

He snapped his finger, materializing an electric torch in his hands. He put it on… and nothing happened.

“Bah”, he mumbled, and the torch was replaced by a true torch. But no light broke the darkness. Just, the smell and the warm of the fire WAS there. An horrible truth, that from the mind of Mick was slowly working his way toward the multilobed brain of Mxy, began to taking shape, first meaningless to the fifth dimensional mind, then unacceptable, and then finally credible, and terrible.

Dozens of lighting objects, torches, lamps, bulbs and many more appeared one after another in Mxy’s hands, yet the darkness was ever intact.

Mxy was BLIND!

A voice began speaking. It was the voice of the Jumping Caw, not Tripp’s own.

“My friend Tripp CAN be useful, when someone tell him how to use his powers. He loves the flowers… but flowers are so useless. Like hew-mans!
I know you are scared, friend.
I know that you knows five dimension, and that living in a third dimensional universe should be boring for you. FLAT.
The richness of five dimensions! Not three, but five axis of total freedom.
I also know what is living in three dimensional environment, for you. Looking freely INSIDE the things. Going from one place to a distant spot WITHOUT having to cross the distance, just traveling across the fourth dimensional bended space. RESHAPING forms like clay, as the sculptor does.
I also know one thing, demigod. Without sight, you CAN’T do anything.
The world has no dimension when you are blind.
It has not five, nor four, not even three or two. Or one.
It’s just pointless.”

Mxy was frozen still, the words of the mysterious voice so… enormous… ungraspeable…

Tears began running down Mxy’s cheeks.

“I don’t like doing this to you, Mxy. I don’t like doing anything bad to any fellow metahuman. Even your friends are my friends, and I suffer doing violence to them. Their pain… your pain… is mine.”

Mxy’s body was shaking violently, as he was kneeling in pain over the ground. Unable to see anything, he had no way to reshape reality at his will, just like a painter, deprived of his sight, would.

“So, Mxy, hear me. You want your sight back? Just help me. And in turn, you’ll help yourself and your friends and your kind, to be freed from the norms, that are, should I really remember you, OUR ENEMIES. The one that have put you and Mick in jail, that have shot at you, that have done so much violence to you and your friends. HELP ME!”

"What… what do… you… want…?” asked Mxy, crushed to the ground by his incapacity to react to the words of the mysterious man.

“I want just one, simple thing. I don’t want you to kill or doing violence to anyone. I want that you lift this underground building from here to the Antarctic. Just that.”

"How can I… do that? I can’t see…”

“Yes you can. Now just shift the building to the sky above us, you don’t have to see it to do that. Then, I will tell you the road to follow!”

Mxy was weeping and sobbing, trying to d+find a way out. But the darkness was devouring him, eating away any fragment of resistance that, learned over comics and cartoons, made his sense of “heroing”.

And the ground began to shake, as the steel and reinforced concrete underground building began to separate from his rocks surrounding, prior to phase out of reality to rematerialize above Chicago.

Hiding inside the ventilation conduct, one person observed and heard all the scene. He didn’t know for sure what was happening, but of one thing he was sure. He couldn’t stay there forever.

Now, it was his time to enter the scene.

And while the EPS Headquarter, like an impossible floating island, materializes high above the skyscrapers of the windy city, Danny Hearn jumped out of the air ducts.

Leslie rushed towards Walker and Brianna. The floor was rolling like waves, but that didn't stop her from checking up on her new friend. "Banshee--"

Banshee turned towards her sister metahuman. Her wing was covered with gauze. "I'm okay, really."

Leslie stopped walking towards her at the sound of Brianna's raspy voice. "What happened?"

Another rumble rolled the table Brianna was on and crashed it into the wall. She fell off, groaning and rubbing her sore wing. Walker had added bandages so the wing wouldn't move, but now, Brianna was grounded. After her adrenaline rush from her flying, the idea of not being able to fly scared her. But she wouldn't show it.

"What could be happening," Leslie asked Phil.

Brianna's inner ears felt funny...a silly sensation, really. "We changing altitude. We've climbed at least 8,000 feet. Maybe...maybe 11,000." Everyone looked at the Banshee. "I can sense direction and altitude. I use it to navigate when I fly."

Phil nodded. Brianna looked...strange...but there were more important things to worry about, like what was causing the EPS HQ to move. He signaled for everyone to leave the lab. Leslie, Brianna, and Walker were behind him as they tried to find their teammates.

Phil Smith raced down the corridor, trying to locate the rest of Vanguard. Leslie followed close behind, helping Brianna along cautiously. Dr. Charles Walker trailed along behind them, looking nonchalant as ever and keeping up with his own pace while managing to keep an eye on the metahumans ahead of him.

"Care to tell me what the hell is going on, Doctor Walker?" Phil called over his shoulder.

"A momentary aberration, Mr. Smith," the scientist replied calmly. "By the way," he warned, "you would do well not to get too far ahead. There are plenty of security devices that would make for an unpleasant situation under normal circumstances. Considering that most of our security systems are currently under Glitch's control, I would say your chances of navigating these corridors without my guidance are slim to nonexistent."

"Dammit!" Phil skidded to a halt and waited for Walker to catch up. "Since we're all depending on you now," he said coldly, "I hope you won't abuse my trust. I tend not to react well when people abuse my trust."

The scientist smiled. "A shrewd player in the game of life. I can appreciate that." He chuckled. "No, Mr. Smith, I believe you can relax somewhat. I fear I may require more help from you than vice versa. Best not to make things difficult for any assistants of mine, no matter how temporary their assistance might be."

Phil thought a moment, then nodded slowly. "Right." He turned to Brianna. "You okay?"

The Banshee nodded. "A bit dizzy, but I'll be alright."

"Is it the altitude change?" Leslie asked, concerned.

"Partly." Walker pulled some unidentifiable device from a pocket on his lab coat. "I was forced to sedate her to prevent any potential... self-inflicted injury."

Phil rolled his eyes. "Well, aren't you considerate. And I suppose the scalpels and osteotome on the table next to you were just there to brighten up the room, right?"

"Mr. Smith," Walker replied, "this debate is not going to benefit any of us at this time. I would strongly suggest that you put whatever differences we may have aside, until we can restore order here." He gestured to Brianna. "Your friend here is in somewhat less than optimal condition, Miss Kline is occupied with assisting her, and I have no weapons or special abilities of my own in the event that we encounter trouble. As you can see, the three of us are depending on you."

Leslie nodded. "We've got to get out of here. We need Walker's directions to get past the security systems, and we need you to take care of any problems we run into. We can't do this unless we all trust each other."

As if to underscore the urgency of Leslie's words, another series of tremors rocked the complex.

Phil frowned. "I guess we have no other choice, then." He turned to Walker. "Show me where to go."

Interlude
The Sea of Eternity
Time Solar 22:22
“Poly where the hell are we going? You said we needed to get off world. but we’re here in the Sands of Eternity. How is this going to get us off world?” Phil asked.

“Phil Have i ever let you down? Besides you know we cant use the space port, we’re wanted criminal on a Penal colony, so you should know that Praxis is gonna have the port watched like a hawk. His Men have orders for K.O.S. you know what that means “Kill on Sight!” No questions asked and no answers needed.”Poly said as he started the land cruiser and headed for the MegaLith.

“O.K. so we cant take the port what now do we use a “Matter-Em miter”? Or do you have some other way to get us off world?”Phil asked as he lite a cigarette.

I’ll bet Poly has lost it the nearest Mater-em miter is back in the RAs. not out her in the bad lands.

“Phil how long have you know me?”Poly asked

“Now that's a dumb question Poly.” Phil started, but was cut short.

“Just answer the question Phil.”Poly said shortly as he turned the cruiser to in the direction of the MegaLith.

“Since I was 25 we meet after ..... After the accident that killed Lithan, you know I cant remember any more than that.”Phil said.

“Did you ever wonder about the Children of Ren?”Poly asked, as he took the cruiser off the main path.

“What that Ren had 7 beings and that they would be responsible for saving the Cairon? You mean that Kind of thing? “ Phil asked as he took a drag off his Cigarette.

“Not Exactly Phil the Children where to each have a Mastery of some facet of the Fabric, Mind was composed of thought and memory, Location of time and space, The Cycle of Life ,death and Rebirth, and Transmogriphation of Mater and energy, but there is a 5th that of Soul and it stands alone.” poly said

“Dosen’t matter it’s all fairy tails to keep the childer in line.”Phil said.

“But what if it wheren’t? what if it where True.”Poly said .

“So your trying to tell me that some Mythical being shit us out and now we have the same derek that we had before . Where are we going? And why are’nt we trying to get off world?” Phil said in a More than Sarcastic voice.

“Just wait you’ll understand when we meet Ren.” Poly said as he drove faster across the burning sands.

Time Solar 28:30

“We’re there, Phil Wake up.”Poly said.

“What, Where?”Phil said as he opened his eyes.

Poly pointed to the great megalith that stood before them.

“This is our ticket of this Dune, come on lets get moving.” Poly said as he clambered out of the Cruiser.

Phil reached for the Mining suit that was left in the cruiser Damn it Poly you cant even wait for me to get the Mining suit on.

Phil tried to follow the foot prints that Poly had left behind as he clambered up the shear cliff face of the Sand Stone.

‘Poly Wait up ! You know I can’t climb that well! Poly! Poly! Poly?”Phil said as he climbed the stone surface.

It seemed as if hours or days had past when Phil reached the top but with one last almost un triumphant burst he throw his Left arm over the ledge.
Pulling himself up he found a hand hold in the stone before him and clambered to his feet.
Looking around he was amazed at what he saw before him, l lavish and lush paradise. Complete with waterfall and Singing birds.
Phil reached for the catch in the Mining helmet, finding it he removed the visor.

“Poly Where are you?” Phil Shouted at the top of his Lungs.

“Poly .......” came the Echo of the cliffs, that stood before him.

Damn it Poly your gonna get me Killed out here.

Phil sucked in as much air as he could to get ready and shout again, but a hand crept across his face and over his mouth. Silencing him in a soft stern kind of manor.

“Keep it down!”Poly Whispered.

“Else the Pawn will hear you.”Poly quietly said.

“The Pawn? Here? Praxis is HERE? We’re dead meat!”Phil said.

Poly motioned towards the waterfall.

Phil looked the soft blue sun was almost blinding to him.

“What I don’t see anything.” Phil said softly.

“Damn it Phil look at the TANKS, over by the waterfall. “Poly’s voice was becoming slightly strained.

“Oh! Those Tanks.”Phil said as his eyes adjusted to the light level.

Poly started moving towards the waterfall , he motioned for Phil to follow.

Poly isn’t waring a Mining suit. Did he Brave the Sands with out Protection?

“Poly Where’s your mining suit?”Phil asked.

“Don’t Need one! And neither do you!”Poly said.

Don't need one? Don't Need one? Just who the hell dose Poly think he is?

Poly climbed up the rocky surface till he was at the top of the water fall, Phil followed trying not to make any noise. so as not to give there posion away,

What the Fuck are the Pawn doing here and why in such mass? the last time i saw that many ...

“You don’t even want to think it little Brother.”Poly said.

“What the hell? Are you reading my mind? Poly you know i can’t stand that!” Phil said Plainly.

“No! Dumb ass just the expersion on your face. the only one of us that can read minds is Down there right now looking for something.”Poly said as he pointed to the tanks.

Poly moved slowly as if being one with the earth, shifting as the sandstone shifted.

“We’re almost there .” Poly said.

“Almost where? and How's this gonna get us off world ? your gonna get us caught!”Phil said with an echo.

“Damn it keep your Fucking Voice down and get your ass in that fucken cave.”Poly stammered.

Phil entered the cave and waited for Poly.

“Buzzzzzzzz!”

“Buzzzzzzzzzz!”

The sounds was common to any one on the Colony, that was a Pawn Matter-Emitter.
Phil looked out side the cave, despratly trying to see, Where Poly might be. But to no Avail.

“Phil!!”Polys voice Boomed .

Phil jumped landing hard on the rocky serfice of the cave.

“Poly where the fuck are you?” Phil yelled.

“Never mind that now Just move to the center of the cave. ..... Now!”Poly commanded.

Phil moved with a quickness that was rather Alien to him, Never before could he have moved like this.

The stones of the cave started to shift and sway, Phil was getting the reatching in his stomach.

“Damn i’m gonna Puke!” Phil said.

“Is that any Way to Greet your Mother? “A female voice came as if from the very stone beneath his feet.

The stones shifted some more and started to Jet out as Phil reached the center of the cave.

“Phil just sit down! We’re safe now... i think.”Polys said, but the voice seemed to come not from in front of Phil but from beneath his feet.

As if on cue a stone slab slid under Phil.

The stones shifted and begin to break up forming a swirling dust.

The dust swirled about gaining momentum, this way and that , and finally came to rest. when the dust settled Poly walked throu the place where the dust devil had once been.

“Phil i would like for you to meet for the first time, your Mother! R.E.N.” Poly said.

As the young lady dressed all in stone red and water blue walked from the cave entrance.

“But i don't understand any of this. This dosen’t make any sense. We need to get out of here before Praxis finds us.” Phil said .

Phil Felt a Small sting .

Oh Fuck!

And then the lights Went out.

One of the titanium steel walls of the EPS headquarters exploded outward as Grimm slammed Glitch/Turner through them.

Glitch blasted volt after volt through Grimm's smoldering, smoking form. A steel covered fist impacted with Turner's face, shattering his left cheekbone, and causing his eye to swell. Another fist collided with Turner's ribs, fracturing three of them in one shot.

Glitch manipulated Turner's mind like an expert neurosurgeon, shutting off his pain receptors to the reading emanating from his nerve endings.

*************************
Phil, Leslie, and Banshee stood in horror at the brutal display before them. "This way, we'll handle this later." Walker said in his monotone voice, ushering them down another hallway.

"What do you think is causing this, Phil?" Leslie asked.

"Mxy." was his tight-lipped reply. "We have to find him and stop whatever he's up to."

****************************

Glitch reached a hand up to Grimm's jaw and grabbing it, unleashed another multiple charge blast directly into Grimm's head. The force from the blast ripped Grimm's head from his jawbone (still held in Glitch/Turner's hand) and slammed him into another wall.

Glitch rose up, the fiery eyes trained on Grimm as he pulled himself out of the indention he'd made in the wall. Glitch glanced down at the jawbone in his hand and smirked. "Now I'm pissed off." Grimm's sepulchral voice echoed down the corridor. Glitch casually tossed aside the jawbone and readied another attack.

Grimm charged again, sidestepping another blast to his right. Glitch feinted, and unleashed a strobe burst to the left. Grimm parried with his axe, blocking what he could of the attack and taking the rest.

*******************

Vengeance used his flaming sword to cut a path through the seemingly endless miles of dead skin. He was headed straight for the spot where Skingraft was poised to attack the Raptor. Reynolds couldn't tell if his assigned partner meant to save Ciccioto, or attack him.

***********************

Glitch attacked Grimm with a martial arts blow aimed for his head. Grimm caught Turner's right arm in his hand and began bending it backwards. There was a loud snap as the bones in Turner's arm broke clean in half. Glitch was momentarily proud of himself for shutting off Turner's pain receptors. His pride didn't last long as Turner's left arm soon found itself falling to the floor, cut off from the body just below the shoulder.

"You bashhtard!" Glitch/Turner screamed in frustration, unleashing a tidal wave of electrical force at his opponent. The wave washed over Grimm's body shredding his clothing and scorching his body. Still, he pushed forward. He readied another axe blow only to find his axe pulled from his hands and forcefully embedded in one of the walls.

Grimm snatched up the severed limb and began to beat Turner's head bloody with it, breaking his nose after one blow. Glitch instinctively kicked upwards and nailed Grimm's arm directly in a pressure point, causing him to drop the arm to the floor.

His gauntlets began pulling themselves backwards as Glitch smiled sadistically. "Did you know that electrishity and magnetishm are related? It only took a shhubtle manipulation of Mr. Turner'ssh frontal lobe to create the deshhired effect."

Grimm's arms were pulled backward by his gauntlets as his own bones began to crack and snap. he was lifted upward off of the floor by the chain he wore as it wrapped itself around his neck and head tightly and began to pull.

The chain twisted Grimm's neck around until it snapped and hung limp. Glitch embedded Grimm into the wall, his broken arms and neck hanging out, a hideous crucifixion parody.

"You don't play nisshhe." Glitch mumbled through Turner's broken teeth. He eyed Grimm's axe, still hanging in the wall.