RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block HR #11 [The Lost City of the Dragons]

Phil Smith walked aimlessly down the uncrowded backroads of the island, wanting nothing more than to be alone with his thoughts. He had been alone a long time... or at least he thought he had. Still... finding someone - and someone like Gabi, to boot - had made him feel complete, whole... had made him feel like he finally had a place in this world.

And in one fell swoop, it was all taken from him.

So, kicking down the dusty roads of La Perdita, towards the Fish Factory, Phil could think of nothing more than ending his own life. The concept was not altogether foreign to him. He'd made mistakes. Thought of spilling his own blood before.

But this time... this time he truly meant to do so.

Slowly and with great care, Phil removed his gun from its place in his side holster and, ever so cautiously, removed every bullet from the clip... save one. Closing his eyes, he felt the cold steel of his handgun press against his temple and slowly tightened his grip on the trigger.

Then... it occured to him: Fisher. Phil's jaw clenched, his heart pounded, his pulse quickened, and his forehead began pouring sweat. Fisher - the man whose games and unrelenting had left his beloved dead. This man... Phil said, lowering the gun and removing the clip. This man will die by my hand.

"My promise to you," he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek as he fell to his knees, once again mourning the loss of the woman he held dear.

He held the clip up, examining the one woman that remained. "This bullet," Phil said slowly, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his wrist. "This is my present to you, Fisher. For the lives you've destroyed. For the pain you've caused. And for the hope you've obliterated."

Rising to his feet, Phil ground his toes into the ground and raised the one bullet to the sky in his own clenched fist. "WITH GOD AS MY WITNESS... I WILL NOT REST UNTIL YOU ARE DEAD BY MY HAND! UNTIL YOU'VE BEEN REWARDED TOOTH FOR TOOTH AND EYE FOR EYE FOR THE HELL YOU'VE PUT ME THROUGH!"

His gun clattered to the ground. His hand thrust the bullet into his pocket. And, as Phil Smith continued on his way toward the Fish Factory, his phone began to ring...

The Fish Factory

"C'mon, Philsy..." Grissom Montag said, pacing the small office where he and Griffin sat. The levitating hat, coat, and gloves of Griffin busied themselves at Kit's laptop, while Griss finally sank into one of Kit's office chairs. "Pick up, dammit!"

"You really should learn to be more patient, old bean," came the disembodied voice of Griffin. "It is a virtue that has lended itself well to me in my time..."

"Easy for you to say," Montag mumbled. "You're bloody invisible..."

"Hello?"

"Phil!" Grissom said, rising again at Phil's answering. "Been wanting to get a 'old of you for some time... finally got the chance. Where are you?"

"Don't know."

Grissom noticed the odd tonality in the man's voice. "Phil, wha's wrong? Everything go alright with the agents?"

"She's dead... they killed her..."

"Who?" Montag asked, concerned. "Leslie? Charley?"

"Gabi," was Phil's despondent reply. "One of Fisher's agents shot her. I... I couldn't do anything."

"Phil..." Grissom began, generally at a loss. "I... I'm sorry, mate. Really. I... wish things could've turned out differently..."

"Well, while I appreciate the sentiment," Phil said, angrily, "it won't do a thing to help me find the son of a bitch who did this..."

"Hey, Phil..." Grissom said, wanting desperately to change the subject, "I... Look, I know it's a bad time for this, but... I was wondering if you could come in to the Fish Factory ASAP."

"What for?" Phil asked. Grissom could just see him sitting alone in an unfinished room at the headquarters, beating himself up for letting Gabi get killed.

"Kit's got... well, Kit's got a sorta mission for us," Grissom answered. "We won't be doing it alone. Seems his ex and girls 've been nicked and... well, he's gonna need help on this one."

"Any leads?" Phil asked, seeming to gain a bit of energy from Grissom's description of the situation.

"We've got... um... we've got something of a specialist working on it now," Grissom answered, giving Griffin a wary stare, uncertain as to whether or not the killer was returning his gaze. "Name's Griffin. 'e's... 'e's a bit 'ard to see..."

"You think you'll be needing me?" Phil asked.

"I won't lie," Grissom said, leaning on Kit's desk, next to Griffin. "We could use a man o' your talents on a mission like this one. So - one merc to another - it'd be great if you could join us..."

"Will there be killing involved?"

"Chances are..." Griss answered a bit nervously, casually looking through Griffin's head at the laptop screen.

"Good," Phil answered. "Got a lot of built up grief and rage to sort out... and I can think of no better way to get it all out. See you shortly."

And, with that, Grissom's line went dead.

"Well, we've got another fighter fer the cause..." Grissom said, leaning over Griffin's shoulder. "Whaddaya got?"

"A lead," Griffin said. Griss felt something like a hand pushing his face away gingerly. "That's all you need know. Now, if you don't mind, I'll be leaving shortly to carry out the next stage in what I'm looking for. You'll do good to get some gear together.

Grissom could almost hear the smile spreading across the invisible man's face as he spoke. "Just like old times, Grissom, my boy... just like old times..."

Danny sat up and rubbed his eyes, finding himself temporarily blinded by the explosion that had rocked the very foundations of the cemetery only seconds before. His vision returned, blurry at first then slowly returning to normal. The faint ringing in his ears remained.

The first thing that he noticed was that his leg was still bleeding. He ripped the sleeve off his shirt in one swift motion, and proceeded to use it as a makeshift bandage on his wound. He pulled the bandage tight and tied it off, hoping to stifle the bleeding.

The second thing he noticed was Tobias and Kristogar, picking themselves up a few metres away from him. They didn't seem to be severely injured at all.

The third- and arguably most important- thing Danny noticed was the bright ball of light hovering above the ground before him. Squinting, he thought he could make out the dual figures of Mxy and Ktl in the glow. But he couldn't stare at it for long. The sheer intensity of the light made looking at it akin to staring directly at the sun.

Getting up and stumbling across to where his teammates stood, Danny noticed that around them many of the gravestones and memorials were damaged. Unfortunate side effects of the battle they now waged, and of the explosion that tore across the cemetery only moments before. This saddened him- if there was one thing that should be left sacred, it was a person's final resting place. Danny resolved to ask Mxy if there was anything he could do to fix them.

That is, of course, if Mxy ever returned to them...

"Danny! What the HELL is going on here?!" Tobias shouted.

"Mxy and Ktl are... fighting. Battling. Up there," Danny said, pointing up at the ball of light but shielding himself from it with his other hand.

"What can we do?" Kristogar asked, his tone of voice sounding a little more calm than Tobias’.

“There’s not much we can do. This fight is… beyond anything we know. Beyond any of our powers…” Danny said, then fell silent. He cast a glance next to him, where the light that spilled from the opposing energies of Mxy and Ktl seemed to be increasing in intensity.

“Damn it. We have to help Mxy!” Tobias said, still shouting.

“Damn it, TC, we CAN’T!” Danny shouted back, matching his teammate’s volume.

“Then- I repeat- What can we do?” Kristogar asked again.

“The police cars… the explosion. We should see if anyone survived. Help them…” Danny said. His teammates nodded. “Tobias. Go,” Danny added. Then TC was gone, vanished in a blur towards where Ktl had thrown the first police car at the second. Kristogar ran behind him.

“Wings!” Danny shouted, wincing as the pain of growing the extra body parts seemed intensified by his injured ribs. He took off into the sky, following Tobias and Kristogar. Every flap of his new wings sent a sharp pain through his chest. But he kept flying anyway. It was the quickest way to get there, and running on his wounded leg wasn’t much better.

As he landed, he could see TC inspecting the burning wreck of the two cars. The speedster was ducking in, then appearing outside the car on the opposite side, not being inside long enough for the flames to hurt him. He paused and ran in again, repeating this a couple of times.

Danny landed next to him, and said “Any survivors?”

“Nobody,” Tobias replied. Danny dropped his head, and swore under his breath. They stood there silently for a moment, then were joined by Kristogar Velo. He approached them from the open gate of the cemetery.

“…no survivors, then?” He said softly, noticing the look on Danny’s face. Danny nodded softly.

“No- you misunderstood me. When I said ‘nobody’, I didn’t mean no survivors…” Tobias began. “I meant nobody. No remains. No bodies. If people had been burned in there, there’d at least be some charred skeletons or something… but, nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Danny said, regaining his composure.

“I checked, like, half a dozen times. Nothing. Nada. Zip,” Tobias answered.

“That’s just…” Danny said, then paused.

“Really fucking strange,” Kristogar added. The other two nodded.

Danny looked back into the cemetery. He couldn’t actually see Mxy or Ktl, being blinded by the light that surrounded them. Lighting crackled around them, shooting at them from both the sky and ground. Wind whipped around them, starting as a light breeze but rapidly growing.

“I’m headed back in there,” Danny said.

“I thought you said there was nothing we could do,” Tobias replied.

“There probably isn’t.” Danny turned to face him. “But I’ll be damned if I miss this.”

The Lost City of the Dragons
CHAPTER 203
"HIDDEN TREASURE!"

With a renewed zeal, the Luckiest Man Alive sped through the labyrinthine corridors of the evil Tower of Cuccubao, determined more now than ever to complete his mission and find that map to the Lost City! Knowing that Pete Glover was okay even though he was a ghost, and that Chance was able to live for himself again rather than filling another man's shoes, he felt as if a great weight had been taken off of his shoulders. Not all of his problems in the world had been solved, of course, but the burden of knowing he had his life at the cost of Pete's had been one which had seemed almost crushing at times over the past few months. Now he was liberated from that particular problem, and he could focus his brilliant mind and energies on the problems at hand.

Chance had come across a few guards in one of the corridors and knocked them unconscious from behind before they could react to his presence, but though he quickly checked every room he came across, there seemed to be no sign of the map anywhere.

"Lookin' for a map, are ye? Why don'tcha try lookin' fer a pair o' pants ta cover up that butt-crack o' yours first? It's so feckin' muscled you could crack hazelnuts with it!" the ghost of Pete Glover cackled as he kept up with the bronzed Swede.

"Pete, this isn't the best time..." Chance whispered as he ran up to another guard and slugged him across the face, throwing him unconscious to the ground.

"I'm tellin' you, me old son -- you stuff a few pieces o' coal between yer cheeks an' you'll soon be able ta shite diamonds!"

Chance sighed. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

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

The beautiful, red-booted girl known as Crasher had continued the search for the map after the Raptor had literally leapt outside through a shattered wall to meet their attackers head-on. And even though it seemed then that the entire Tower could very easily crumble all around them, it seemed to hold. Moreoever, it soon became less noisy the further away she went from the battle-scene, and she could soon hear none of the battle raging outside. Would Euro be able to battle that one-eyed creature alone with only his sword to protect him? Yes. He had to. With Chance the only one in the group with any field medical experience (severely limited though it was), he had been left behind to take care of her close friend Ameristar, and the other one, Drax, had been left to guard the both of them. She was the only one now who could find that map. And she would find that map, or Ameristar's ordeal would have all been for nothing.

Still, as she raced through the labyrinthine passageways which confused her very sense of direction, she began to feel the crushing weight of the darkness of this place all around her. It wasn't merely the lack of light -- no, it was an evil which permeated every rock and stone which had been used to construct this Tower. She wondered briefly how many had been sacrificed in its building and buried between the walls to ensure its virility? How many virgins had been slain to celebrate its completion? Blood literally seeped through this hellspawned place.

And then a miracle occurred!

Crasher literally ran into a couple of armed guards who seemed to be casually walking the other direction, engaged in animated conversation. They seemed to be carrying something between them -- something which looked very, very familiar. Quickly dispatching the two guards before they were aware of what had happened when she crashed into them, she bent down to inspect the bundle they had been carrying.

"Jackie, this is your lucky day," she breathed to herself. For she had found Ameristar's armor.

Crasher quickly donned Ameristar's armor but now got herself definitely lost in the passageways of the Tower as she wandered for the next several minutes. She seemed to have passed by the same old torch on the wall about six times by now, though she couldn't be sure it was the same one each time. This place was hell on the senses. It completely threw her sense of direction off.

"What the--?!" she said then, as she skidded to a stop in another room which looked all-too familiar.

"Crasher?" Drax said, turning around and seemingly ready for a fight. "I'm glad one of you finally returned. Where's Raptor?"

"I don't... but... how...?" Crasher said, scratching her head in puzzlement. "Huh. That's so weird. I don't know how I got back here, but..." she looked at the prone form of Ameristar, "...now that I'm here, I think I'd better look after Ameristar. I take it Chance has gone off to look for the map?"

"Yeah, I think so..."

"Good. He should have an easier time trying to find it than I did," she said, walking up to her friend. She looked at Ameristar's head-wound and noted that she couldn't see any blood emanating through the bandages. There was that much to be thankful for, she supposed.

"So where's Raptor?"

"Raptor? Oh, shoot -- Drax, I think you'd better head outside as soon as you can! Euro's fighting all by himself against who knows how many newcomers? All I know is that none of them look friendly."

"Well, it's about time!" the fluffy white dragon said with what seemed to be a grin on his snout-like face. "I've been itching for some action ever since we got ourselves outta those VR units!" He moved quickly through the large passages towards an exit, eager to be useful once more as more than a "guard-dragon".

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

Chance had also run into five more guards in his travels through the Tower of Cuccubao in one of the rooms. He had picked up one of them by the feet and was currently using him to knock down the four other guards while they were still reaching for their side-arms. Wordlessly Chance knocked each one down and cracked their heads against the ground enough to knock them unconscious. They were left alive, since they seemed to just be hired thugs, but they'd have massive headaches when they woke.

"Well, you've sure doused these scuts quickly, b'y," Pete's ghost said as Chance wiped his brow from all the physical exertion of the running and the fighting. "It's funny, me old son -- I dinna recalls you being so violent before! You always seemed ta be the peace-lovin' type..."

"Different situations call for different measures, Pete," Chance said as he looked around the room carefully for the first time. To his delight, this seemed to be an ancient store-room of some sort. There were several old pots and vases adorned with pre-Incan symbols all around, most of them broken and swept off to one side. It was obvious that -- whoever it was who had been using Cuccubao as a base for their own evil operations -- they hadn't cared about the archaeological value of this place. They may have looted it for whatever precious metals could be found, or even sold some of the unbroken pottery to unscrupulous collectors, but everything else had just been left to ruin. "What a waste..." he breathed, making a note to himself that he'd have to get Dr. Quantos to tell one of his archaeologist friends about this place. These artifacts needed to be catalogued and studied.

"A waste, ye say? Like the waste dropping outta yer bare arse?" the ghost said, chortling fiercely. The ghost's laughter sounded like it was coming from an echo chamber.

"It's funny, Pete, I don't recall you having such a vulgar sense of humor before," Chance retorted.

"Ahh, ye di'n't really know me tha' well, b'y. None o' yer MBL boys did. Why d'ya think I spents so much time away from the group as much as I could? None o' you ever had ta eat trash all the time just ta survive. Unless you've lived on the streets, you don't know what it's like. You just don't know. Only T.C. had any idea wha' that meant..." The ghost's voice seemed to grow weaker and quieter as he spoke, until finally he grew quiet. After a moment he piped up again, "That's all behind me now, tho', me old son. I'll spend my death tormentin' the likes o' you as long as I cans." Another round of ghostly laughter followed. Chance just shook his head and kept Pete from seeing him grinning.

The Luckiest Man Alive had already knelt down and begun searching through the shards of pottery. On a hunch, he looked up and began feeling the wall. Yes! There was a definite crack which ran along it. And it was man-made, no doubt about that. Nothing natural could have made it so straight and smooth. Chance brushed away the shards of pottery with his arms and was now able to follow the crack to its ends, until it trailed downwards again to the floor on both sides. It seemed to be some kind of panel cut out from the rock itself. Feeling his fingers along the floor in the dark, he found an indentation directly in the center between the two vertical cracks.

"Hmm... this doesn't seem to be a handle of any kind -- there's nothing to grab." He tried pushing the panel with both of his hands, then, but nothing gave. He felt the indentation again. It seemed to be perfectly circular. Perhaps something else would work -- perhaps it was meant to be pushed in at that spot only. Chance straightened out his index finger, pulled his muscular arm back, and directed all of his force into his finger as he thrust it into the indentation with more force than a normal man could've mustered using his entire fist. For Kristofer Schanz had studied several martial arts since he was a youth and had mastered many techniques of applying force with one's body without breaking said body.

"YES!" he exulted as the panel turned, the bottom part pushing inwards as the top part pushed outwards and down flat onto the ground.

"It's just beginner's luck," the ghost breathed mockingly.

"Well, it's some kind of luck, I'll agree, Pete. You always seemed to be luckier than I ever was -- I think some of it's beginning to rub off onto me the more you're around," laughed Chance. The ghost of Pete Glover just frowned and crossed his arms grumpily.

As he cautiously reached into the opening which had perhaps not been opened for several centuries, Chance felt something with a soft texture and pulled it out. It was made of papyrus, and it could barely be seen in the dim light of the room, but it was most definitely what he and the others had been searching for. "Pete, you lucky bastard, you! We've found it! We've found the map!"

"Hey, wow... that's great, fuckwad!" a sneering voice said from the open passageway. It was X-Acute, the gunslinging member of the Project Omicron team. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to hand that over to me, I won't have to splatter your brains all over the wall with my guns, here."

Chance frowned as he recognized the jerk from the Uffizi Museum who seemed to be an acrobatic clone of Dirk Bell. Guns. Chance hated guns...

[ 03-15-2003, 05:32 PM: Message edited by: TheTimeTrust ]

Priest slowed walked down the now crowed street.

“I can’t stop this feeeeling,”

Priest grabbed two zombies by the back’s of their necks.

“Deep inside of meeeee.”

Priest’s fingers sunk into the decaying flesh of the creatures. A blue energy seeped from their bodies traveling into Priest. His eyes were a blue hue for a moment before returning to the unnatural red which had taken over for the last few hours. The zombies crumbled in his hands and fell into a puddle of mush/

“Girl you got me wanting…”

Priest’s fists grew denser; he quickly tested his might on a nearby zombie. One punch busted the zombie’s chest open, a second took off its head. Blood and chunks covered Priest.

“Nahnahnah… Something something please!”

He grabbed another zombie and sucked its energy. Throwing it to the ground, he stopped singing and looked up, “Look at me now! BAWAHAHAHAhahahahaha… waw…”

Priest clutched his chest, his facial features returned to normal, “I-I-“ he spit a large gush of blood and his eyes went into the back of his head. His hands tightened. Sweet dripped from his body. His eyes snapped open, the red hue returned.

“My time might be short, but your son is as good as dead!”

A wicked smile returned.

“DEAD!”

As Grimm and Vengeance reached one another, Vengeance abruptly stopped. The tension in the air was palpable. Even the zombies, sensing something strange in the air, halted their advance on the two dead men. For a full minute, there was silence in the basement of the courthouse. Finally, Grimm broke the silence.

"What are you waiting for? You're only prolonging the inevitable."

"There is another issue we should address. It is something we must combine our forces to accomplish."

"And what would that be?" The skeletal biker asked, skeptical.

"There is one of your group called Priest. He has been possessed."

"Priest? Possessed? You have GOT to be kidding me!"

"It is true, I will show you."

With those words, Vengeance gazes into Grimm's eyes. In a flash, Grimm sees Priest leading an army of zombies down the street towards the bookstore. Priest's eyes were glowing red, except for when he would grasp a zombie, after which they would glow blue.

"That is definitely NOT a good thing," Grimm said after Vengeance had looked away.

"So, where do we go from here?" the dead biker asked.

"Follow me," came the words as Vengeance turned and headed back the way he had came, walking towards the bookstore.

Lightning flashed across the rapidly darkening sky as thunderclouds rolled in. Priest's zombie army advanced toward the bookstore, the possessed man cackled maniacly at the head of the undead procession.

Jason Hill peered out of the front window. "This doesn't look good." He began to reload his shotgun.

"Ughhhh. . ." one of the corpses groaned at Priest.

"What? Speak up! You're mumbling again!" the crazed metahuman cackled. "Oh, I see. We've got guests."

His red glowing eyes gazed at Grimm and Vengeance rapidly approaching on Vengeance's motorcycle. The cycles engines screamed like souls being tortured in the depths of Hell.

"Let's give them a little present, shall we?" Priests eyes shot forth a searing red flash that enveloped the two dead men. As Vengeance steered to avoid crashing the bike turned over depositing the two supernatural warriors on the waste littered street. "Yeeeeaahhhhahhhh, I'm the one that you wanted!! Yeeeahhhhh, I'm the superbeast!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Priest continued to maniacally lead his rotting minions towards the bookstore.

Hill, Dirk, and Tayden stared out the front window of the Dragon's Den as the zombie army approached. Hill looked at the swiftly moving clouds and could swear he saw a large skull briefly take shape in them.

"Snap out of it, kid." Dirk Bell said to his left. "Daydreaming'll get you killed in times like this."

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

Grimm and Vengeance picked themselves up from the street.

"Where did you learn to drive this thing?" Grimm said, dusting off his leather jacket and reaching over to pick up his axe.

"The same place you learned your manners, apparently." Vengeance replied, attempting to right his bike.

"That's it. Let's go!" Grimm's axe crackled to life with it's signature blue energy as Vengeance whipped out his flaming sword and drove straight at him.

Thunder crashed as the two monstrous beings came violently together under the storm clouded skies. Steel covered fist slammed into helmet covered jaw. Fiery sword connected with bone face.

The two mystically reanimated beings that once were men, fought endlessly, preternaturally strong muscles never tiring as lightning flashed and struck the ground beside them. They battled on, uncaring. . .

Crasher used the gleaming armor´s Gaia-Unit to teleport to Raptor´s side.
Who currently had started a fught with four regular thugs with guns, and he was doing well.

Oh well, she thought no problem here then. She shot one in the leg, and told him to surrender, which he did without any further hassle. She was just about to rejoice in the victory when a voice behind her said;

"Surrender or be killed! Step away from that man!"

Behinf her and Raptor three figures emerged from the jungle...apparently metas.

"We are the Omicron, and we have been authorized to use any means to secure this facility. You will comply or face the consequences!"

Crasher being rather cocky and young thought she had a opening and was just about to fire when she felt her armor stiffen...

> Warning! System Error! Intrusion in Shell Program <

A voice was heard with her earplugs;

> Xyber at your service. This system will be deleted. Do not attempt counter measures. It will be punished by the destruction of your armor and probably your life <

Panic rode through Crashers mind...temporarily confusing her...and that was enough for Xyber to slip in and start the deletion proces.

But Crasher realised this and set about to do just the opposite of the advisement she just had received.

> del *.* <
> undelete *.* <
> install secondary and tertiary proxy <
> send DoS worm thru PPTP tunnle <
> engaging backup <

> su root <
> password; Knight <
> incorrect password <
> system lockout engaging <
> password knght4 <
> welcome root <

> root@t4:~# rm -rf /* <
> root@t4:~# halt -n -f -p <
> Shutting down... <
> Unmounting HDDs <
> Unmounting /dev/proc <
> System is halted <

Crasher felt the armor shutting down, and the prescence within ent her a last message on the E-Link on her helmet´s rightside display;

> Now surrender your armor to us and don´t take any hostile action. Doing so will be... <

"I know...!" Crasher yelled furiously. "It will be punished by the destruction of me and yadda yadda. Just shut the fuck up!"

She was crying...Her teamate was on the verge of losing this battle as the other two members of the Omicron engaged him in furious battle, and there was nothing she could do...
*************************************************

Within Ameristar´s mind, there was only the dark.
A seemingly infinite space of calm and soothing muffled noises.
She saw no reason to emerge from this calm as it was the first time in years she had known a harmony as this.

But suddenly within her a light flickered...
A small speck of light not much more than a point of a needle...

"Hello? Anyone home?........No? Good then."
**************************************************

> Intruding digiprescence...you will now leave this unit or be destroyed <

Crasher was as much surprised as Xyber was.
Something within her system was attempting to re-start the armor´s defenses and shell programs.

Xyber who had felt this had been a rather easy task so far swore.

> Defiance will be met with lethal force. Comply or die!"
> send ID detect <

Xyber felt something touching her own systems...something very sophisticated...almost as if...no that couldn´t be possible...could it?

> leave this system or be assimilated <
The armor was now threataning her..as if it was...alive!!!
That couldn´t be possible...no such technology had ever been invented here.

Xyber´s own abiliteis were based on tantric mind walking...a ritual done by many in the past, but not into the virtual enviroment...Xyber had been proven to be the best at accomplishing this task...and so had been uploaded into a permanent virtual enviroment.

She attempted to block the intruder within her mind, but felt it strengthening by the nanosecond.

And then Drax entered the scene.

Mayhem was inevetable as he had managed to take them by surprise and given Raptor the oppurtunity to defend himself

Xyber gave up..against the now almost burning onslaught on her nervous system...and felt the worms and probes she had installed within the opponents armor being thrown out and the system rebooting.

She had to disengage beore that happened or the new system would fry her neurons

Much to Crasher´s surprise she had won...
She looked at her freinds...and smilingly she joined the fray...

[ 03-15-2003, 05:18 PM: Message edited by: T5 ]

I was ready to fly up back inside the tower, when four guards jumped out of nowhere firing at me. Ladnikia took care of many of them, when Crasher materialized near me, wearing Ameristar’s armor. There was no time to talk, and although I was hoping she would have kept searching for the map, I was glad she was helping me with those men.

It was when we had taken care of them, when out of the jungle came three figure, babbling some words I didn’t understand. One of them, the tallest one, was the Cyclops I had fought just before. He was looking furious at me. The other two were normal men, one dressed with a simple jumpsuit, and with two guns in two holsters crossing on his chest. The other, slightly taller, was wearing what seemed a kevlar form-fitting suit, with strange tech-goggles shadowing his eyes. The latter just whispered. “X-Acute, go!”, pointing his index finger to the tower, and the second man ran toward it, and began climbing it with the agility of a squirrel.

Meanwhile, the man who gave the order, and that looked as if it was the leader of the group, darted something from one of his gauntlets to Crasher, which froze, and it looked as it was kept prisoner by her same armor.

I moved toward her, to help, but the man shoot a sonic blast from one of his gauntlets right in front of my feet. The grass exploded with a shhhh. I stopped.

The man was smiling. Arges, behind him, was furious and roared at me.

“Be patient, my friend” says the man to the monster behind. “In a few minute I will leave the winged man to you. If…” and he turns toward me, “…if, I was saying, you doesn’t leave immediately the place. By foot, obviously, since we have taken your hovercraft. I am very curious to study it. I have never seen an hovercraft taking flight vertically”.

“Who are you? The one in Florence, at the museum?”

The man smiles. “You are in better shape than then, Mr…?”

“You can call me Raptor. And how should I call you?”

“Mr. Omikron. It seems we have to collide in a lot of different place of the world. Florence… Berlin… here. Different places, but same resolution. We win, and you remain with the proverbial hand of flies, like you said in your land, Cicciotto!”

So this is Omikron, the leader. Seems though.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“Not for you to know, although I believe you know what we are seeking, since our frequent meetings.”

“The Liber Vitae?”

The man smiles. “You have ten minutes to pack and leave. I am sure you will have means to contact your base and ask for rescue. If you will not agree, be aware that the armor has been infected by a computer virus, that is seizing control of the cybernetics, and will kill the girl.”

Damn.

The Cyclops laughs.

Omikron frown. He is listening to his earplug radio device. A moment, then he smiles again.

“Map found” he says. “Cicciotto, have you made your decision?”

I look at Crasher. And then, for an instant, the sun is obscured.

It’s time for me to smile.

“I don’t surrender, Omikron” I say.

He seems surprised. “This don’t make sense, Cicciotto. Why…” but his words die in his mouths, as the Cyclops throws himself at me.

Only, he is caught at mid air by Drax.

In the same moment, Crasher seems to be back to life. She jumps back on his feet, smiling and saying something wise-cracking that I have not time to understand.

Omikron looks at her amazed, saying “No… it’s impossible… Xyber would not…”

I shout to Crasher: “Teleport to Jackie, and not leave her unprotected”. But she doesn’t disappear.

“It’s an order!” I shout, but she opens her arms and says: “The armor has been damaged, the Gaia Units doesn’t work.”

“Run to her, then. Quick!”

The girl leaves. If the map has been found, that means it has been Chance. And that X Acute is menacing him. I need to go to his rescue.

But as I take flight, a blast shot near me. I turn. It’s Omikron, firing at me. “I will let not you to destroy my enterprise, Cicciotto!” he shouts, taking flight.

Inside Crasher's Armor...

Xyber was completely disoriented. Last thing she knew, she was being invaded in the system of that armor that little punk girl with the bad hairstyle was wearing. There was obviously a boomerang program factored in that Xyber hadn't noticed. A rookie mistake.

Fortunately for her, however, she had managed to save her memory into the armor's hard-drive, making her able to attack again if necessary. The armor was already sufficiently weakened, that she knew for sure. However, she had no idea as to the extent of it's weakened state. That was what she would test now...

Working her way through the system was an easy enough task, really. Knowing now what the system was looking for, it was easier to avoid detection by changing small points in her own programming. By the time she had neared the power source, Xyber had taken the form of a random piece of binary data, rather than the complex invading force she had taken upon her first inception.

There it is... she thought to herself as she took in the sight of the power system. The main source of power. From there, I'll be able to take control of any and all functions... carefully, this time

"Alright..." the female computer program said to herself as she entered the suit's core. "This is easily enough done. First... take out all emergency systems, including manual override and virus scans."

No sooner had she said the words than all of the suits emergency warning functions were shut down. In the suit itself, Crahser was given no warnings at all, due to a little rerouting of main control by Xyber. The only thing that concerned the blonde was getting to her friend Jackie.

"Next on tonight's program," Xyber whispered, sinking her digital fingers into the suits main mother board, "a little experiment in density..."

Suddenly, Crahser felt very fat. Or maybe not so much fat as... heavy. Like she was sinking. Like...

Before she knew it, Crasher was plummeting toward the earth like a brick - the density of her suit having been increased beyond what it was normally set at.

"Suit: reconfigure density parameters for subject Crasher-gamma-927! NOW!" Crasher yelled as she fell from the sky.

"Unable to comply," the suit responded monotonously.

"Suit: activate virus scan and locate any foreign elements, authorization Crasher-219-zulu!"

"That authorization code is no longer recognized by this unit..." the suit responded. "All emergency warnings and protocals are offline."

"Impossible..." Crasher said, as her boot thrusters kicked in without warning, causing her to hover in the air just a few feet from the ground.

"Hi!" came a new, effeminate voice from the armor. "Remember me?"

"I-I thought you'd been gotten rid of!" Crasher stammered in disbelief.

"Nope. I'm afraid not. It's a little tougher than that to get rid of Xyber."

"Xyber?" Crasher asked. "Is that what they call you?"

"That's what I am..." Xyber replied, her tone obviously not one of someone amused by the situation. "And as of right now, your armor belongs to me. All your viral defense programs are offline while other programs are being rewritten currently to remove your usefulness from the equation altogether."

"How are you doing this?" Crasher asked.

"I'm a living computer program," Xyber said dryly. "It's what I do..."

A pause.

"What now?" Crasher asked nervously.

"Now?" Xyber asked. "Now we go back and pay a little visit to your friends..."

Crasher stood helplessly in the suit as the armor turned around of its own will and rocketed back toward the Tower of Cuccubao. The only thing going through her mind was Jackie and how sorry she was that she couldn't help her friend...

And suddenly the suit stopped.

Surprising both Crasher and Xyber.
Crasher thought Xyber had stopped on purpose, and Xyber thought she had missed something...something important...

So she double checked the system at lightning speed, carefull this time to not trip any surprise traps or undetected back up systems...but she found neither...except...

What was that? A microscopic chip that seemed to be glowing with a pale blue light...she looked closer and found four cooling systems within and a very small glowing crystal...it pulsed like a heart beat...

Could that be the sentient part of the computer?
She just had to take a closer look by trying to interface with it...
And the crystal increased it´s glow and let her in....
****************************************

In a huge room full of wallscreens and computer terminals, a flashing light was blinking.

A wrinkled pale hand switched it off with a deep sigh.

"Marc, could you come to the monitor room please?" A tired and angry voice said to a close microphone.

"Coming, Sir."

The one called Marc ran out of his private quarters into a long corridor with ancient paintings on the walls.
His now long gray hair was still wet after a long well deserved shower.
Damn it was hot in here.

He arrived only a minute after he had been summoned, and walked to the ancient pale man in front of him.

"What´s the problem , Sir?"

"My little girls are in trouble...could you help them...please?"

"Uh...sure.What´s the story?"

"They are located at the Tower Of Cuccubao. You know the one I warned you about?

"Yes..."

"It seems incredible but someone has managed to compromise the Ameristar suit...and her life signs are flat..."

"Okay, Sir. Don´t panic. I know how much you love them both. I will do my best to retreive them, Sir."

"Thank you, Marc. You have proven to be an enormous asset to this team. I will be in you debt." The old man patted Marc on the shoulder. Then sat down in a chair and continued his monitoring duties.

"I must not let this distract me from my task...the project is at a critical stage, and nothing, not even the ones I love most must distract me from suceeding. Please be swift Marc...come home in one peice."

"No problem, Sir. With this equipment, and my abilities, theu won´t even know I was there."

And with that he ran to the storage to get his field uniform and equipment.
*******************************************

Xyber fell.....
A seemingly bottomless well opened beneath her...and deep down, something stirred...
Something that was angry...
And it rose from the deep towards her...
She could feel it´s raw power, and knew at that instant what it was...the one thing that she had feared most in this battle...

The living prescense within the armor.

Once again she found herself thrown out of the armor...and worse she had been transferred to....somwhere else...
She snooped around...this wasn´t the armor...it was...

A public school computer...and someone was running a program...
Visual Basic.
Oh no...she was inside a kid´s school computer...angrily she swore that she would take revenge on that entity someday...what ever it was...
Then she realised the impossible in what had happened...the armor had a communications device...but not for sending raw data.
How on Earth could she have sent her here? The two systems weren´t even connected?

It must have been that mysterious force within the armor...what was it that lived inside that crystal? She would know...and soon...as fast as she could find a way out of here.......

Public School 78 - Sacramento, California

A child's computer? Xyber thought confused. Easily enough remedied...

Suddenly, the child sitting at the computer found himself staring at the Blue Screen of Death and, confused about what to do, simply sat and stared at the console. Meanwhile, inside the inner workings, Xyber went to work.

Alright, she thought, making her way towards the network cable. A public school computer should be hooked up to the Internet, so making my way through the network cable, I should be able to find my way into any computer in the world with Internet access... the trick is finding a computer that can give me access to the blueprints for that reprehensible armor...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brazil

Crasher's eyes widened in horror as the ground below her began to get closer and closer. She yelled for Xyber, but the voice didn't answer. What the hell was wrong? Why was the suit suddenly plummeting toward the ground?

...the last thing on Crasher's mind as she collided with the Earth was her profound hope that Xyber had not disengaged the shock absorbers...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The World Wide Web

Xyber's web searches were coming up short. Most of the sites she found had something to do with nerdy medieval armor collectors and nothing to do with the piece of machinery she'd been thrown out of twice.

Then, it dawned on her: the Gaia Unit. Having managed to catch a piece of data on this odd item, Xyber decided it in her best interests to do a quick web search for this item that she'd never before heard of...

And, sure enough, moments later, a website came up with information on just what a Gaia Unit was. The only problem was that the information was heavily encrypted and stored on one nigh-inpenetrable hard drive.

If I can hack spy satellites and the CIA mainframe, Xyber thought, rubbing her hands together, then I sure as hell can beat this thing...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chicago

Federal agent Allison Martinson sat in her room, holding in her hands a letter of declination from the Federal Bureau of Investigation for admittance into the new MAW branch. Sighing, she sank into her easy chair and took a swig of her beer.

She had been invaluable to the Bureau during the Chicago riots and now the only thing she had to show for it was a scar on her cheek and a year of her life wasted in spending tiem with metahumans under the ground. A year that she could never get back.

And now, those bureaucrats wanted to keep her out of a branch that she should've been heading up! And who got the position? Fisher... that punk-faced, brown-nosed little weasel! After all that she had sacrificed in that name of doing the right thing. In the name of her country.

Her fiancee had abandoned her earlier that year. Her mission was so secret that she couldn't risk him knowing the truth. So, he thought she was a meta... and married her friend Suzanne two months later. Her parents had been killed in the Chicago massacre. Her older brother Jay was currently employed as a detective on the Stanley, Illinois police force... and hadn't so much as attempted to contact his family for months.

She was alone. Truly alone.

And had nothing else to live for.

She sighed again and took another swig of beer, unaware of a change occuring within her at the genetic level...

One of these days, she sighed, things are gonna start looking up...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The 'Net

Things are starting to look up, Xyber thought with glee as she decrypted the final code and found herself staring at the blueprints to the armor that she had just battled. Detailed drawings and descriptions of every part of the armor were being downloaded directly into her mind as she scanned each one of them.

Then, she saw something familiar. That crystal. Some kind of power source for the thing called the Gaia Unit.

Xyber slowed her search as she took this information in, wanting to catch as much of it as possible.

It's not a real crystal... Xyber thought as she stared pensively at the data before her. It's a sentient biological, magical... thing. ... I've never seen anything like this before...

Downloading those specs into her repository of knowledge, she finished her readout of the data and exited the computer system... all before anyone was alerted to her presence.

Oh, Xyber was that good, alright. She was the best there was at what she did... and no little sentient crystal was going to make her compromise what she knew to be true of herself.

It kicked me out of the system twice, Xyber thought, her digital form travelling through the Web at cyberspeed. Never again. I'll be ready for that prickish little crystal this time. Only one way I know to work around biological components... and that's by making them sick...

If Xyber had a face, you can bet there'd be a smile spread across it from ear-to-ear. She was coming back... and this time, nothing was going to be able to stop her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brazil

Arges swung his hammer hard at the dragon before him, nearly ramming the beast in the ribs as he swung. Saliva ran from his mouth as he grunted at the dragon.

"I've fought such as you before, dragon," Arges said, gritting his teeth. "You are nowhere near as agile and nimble as the great Babylonian, Bahamut!"

"Listen, Polyphemus..." Drax began.

"ARGES!" the Cyclops roared as Drax dodged his axe and hammer.

"Whatever," Drax said, taking off the ground a little ways. "I just wanna know why you were attacking my friend over there?"

"Business," Arges said, wiping the saliva from his lip. "Nothing more than business..."

And, with that, the Cyclops leapt onto the dragon's back, pulling at his long hair...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elsewhere...

"If you know what'd good for you," the Luckiest Man in the World said, holding up his hand, "you'll put those guns away and let me go."

"Fat chance, nudist," X-Acute sneered. "Now I suggest you slide the map over my way, unless you want a face full of lead..."

"Don't push me to any extremes," Chance said, looking askance at Pete as he spoke. "I already don't like your attitude... and you really don't know what you're dealing with when you deal with me..."

"What am I? Oprah?!" X-Acute asked, rolling his eyes. "All I care about is that map. Now... hand it over!"

Chance heard the gun cock as Pete muttered something unintelligible beside him.

"Alright," Chance said, clenching his jaw. "You asked for it..."

BLAM!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside...

Johnny Omicron's eyes narrowed.

Edulcore Cicciotto's eyes did the same.

Johnny quickly flicked his wrist to the side, causing a long titanium sword to emerge from a gauntlet on his arm and fall into his hand. Being a self-made millionaire had made Jonathon Wilkes a very skilled swordsman, and he was betting that an Olympic runner and short-order cook like Cicciotto had never had his training with a sword... despite the impressive blade he carried in his hand.

"You have a sword, too?" the Italian spat, his voice dripping with malcontent.

"I do," Omicron nodded, his armor already tabulating the various ways this battle could play out.

"To the death, then?" Raptor said, grinning.

"I have no interest in killing you, Cicciotto," Omicron said. "Just in doing whatever it takes to get that map before you do..."

"You... you know who I am?"

Omicron smiled. "My team recognized you from footage taken at the museum," Omicron got into a standard fencing stance, preparing to fight. "That gave us the information we need to find all the information we could on your little group... making us one hundred percent prepared to take you on."

"We'll see about that," Euro said, taking his stance and pulling Ladnikia from her scabbard. "And you shouldn't be so slow to kill me, Omicron... because I certainly won't be slow to kill you..."

"So, it begins," Jonathon quipped, raising his blade to his head in salute.

"It does," the winged swordsman answered...

Just as the boys got in the van.

“Does Grimm have a brother?” Tayden said with eyes fixed on the cartoon like battle before him, Dirk and young Mr. Hill.

Grimm’s ax reaped through zombies like it was a sickle and they were the tares as an enraged flaming-topped-skeleton-biker-guy literally tore corpses apart with his bare hands.

“You think that’s strange…….is that Priest over there making blue shit come out of zombies and……singing?” Dirk asked as he checked how many clips he had left.

Then Hill spoke with a shake in his voice, “I’ve been in this God forsaken hell hole, running from my former neighbors who instead of shaking my hand wanna eat it, for a while now and I thought I’d seen some crazy shit but you know what…..….you guys and friends are really fucked up.”

“heh….kid, I think I’m starting to like to you.” Dirk smiled as he pulled the hammer back on his 45. “Well gentlemen, we aint getting’ any younger, shall we?” Dirk nodded his head toward the battle.

Tayden clinched his left fist while holding on to the book his right hand. “Looks like we may not be getting any older either….lets do this.”

Hill just looked at them both as he fingered his shotgun. “Whatever, man……whatever…”

"Brothers, is this what we envisioned for our avatar?"

The zombie army had completely encircled the two combatants, but they moved no closer. Lightning was falling one bolt after another, making the scene look like something wrestling promoters dream of. Outside the ring, Priest was laughing maniacally and urging his army to cross the lightning. One zombie approached the ring, and was instantly vaporized.

"We knew this would happen. It was, after all, in the cards, as they say."

Somewhere else, far away from that Pennsylvania town, four dark figures stood around a cauldron, watching...

Pull up Drax, and then flip over and flatten Mike Wazowski there like a pancake!
"Uh, who's Mike Wazowski?"
One-eyed guy in a movie. Now, quit yappin' and get squashin'!
"Right!"
Drax flapped his powerful wings and lurched up higher into the air with the Struggling Arges clinging to his back. "It's not that easy to shake me loose."
"Oh, I'm not trying to shake you loose. You're right where I want you to be." Drax executed a half loop and then tucked his wings in. That's where the plummeting started.
"Oh, shi..." The two massive fighters crashed into the ground with Arges taking the brunt of the ground-shaking impact. Drax rolled off of the cyclops and gazed intently back at the crater they'd created.
Stay ready, Drax. You hit him hard, but he seems tough. Hit him as soon as he peeks out. Don't give him a chance to get his bearings.
Sure enough, Arges began climbing out of the crater scant moments later, and was met with a powerful swipe of Drax's tail, which sent the one-eyed warrior into the outer wall of the tower. Part of the outer surface crumbled on top of him.
He's tougher than he looks, Drax, and he looks tough as hell. Be careful. You may need to hit him with the juice.
Drax seemed nervous at the prospect, but still nodded his agreement.
Arges climbed out of the pile of rubble and brushed himself off as casually as he could manage under the circumstances. "It's been a long time since I've been hit that hard. It wasn't enough that time either."
"OK, I'll just stop holding back then."
"You can do better?"
"Of course." Drax actually smiled. "I am a dragon after all."
Arges smiled back. "Good, I've been hoping for a worthy challenge."
Arges charged at Drax at full speed, not even slowing down as he scooped up his hammer on the way. Drax tried to meet his charge with another tail swipe, but Arges ducked and smashed Drax's flank with the hammer. Drax bellowed in pain and kicked Arges with a clawed foot. Arges was knocked back several yards, but landed on his feet. Drax took to the air again.
Let him have it, Drax. Nothing else is working.
Drax took a deep breath and opened his mouth. Purplish pink energy glowed from deep within him. Suddenly, the energy lanced out, with blinding intensity and a boom louder than any thunder. When the smoke cleared, Arges was on his back. He didn't get back up after that. Greatly weakened, Drax lowered himself back to the ground.
Drax inspected Arges. The only movement visible was the slight movement of his chest as he breathed "I got him, Drake."
You did good, big guy. You did real good.

The snooping prescence within the network had disappeared...and the old man smiled.

The counter measures had been effective.
The fake blueprints of the armor that he had put out on the web would confuse the hell out of anyone...
But...he realised, the adversary they were facing was not any ordinary Joe, so it would probably notice the faults quiet soon as soon it had time to look over it.

He looked at the monitors that gave him all the telemetry on the Ameristar armor.
All of it´s systems were burned out...amazing.
They would have to build a counter measure against that.

That is...if the crystal complied...he was worried...it had showed signs of awakening...and that could be dangerous...

[ 03-16-2003, 04:13 AM: Message edited by: T5 ]

The Lost City of the Dragons
CHAPTER 217
"THE DUELISTS OF DEATH!"

"Alright," Chance said, clenching his jaw. "You asked for it..."

BLAM!

"FUCK!" X-Acute shouted as he felt a bullet enter his left shoulder from behind. Spinning around like a dervish, he popped four shots into the foreheads of the two hired guards in the hallway, killing them both in less than a second. Spinning back just as fast, he shot two rounds back where Chance had just been before realizing that he was already gone. "Asshole..." he breathed, backing up warily to the doorway to take a peek into the corridor in case there were any other guards nearby.

Just as he turned to look back into the room in order to find his opponent, he was blinded by a flash of light accompanied by the sounds of shattering glass. Moreover, his hands were empty.

"My guns!" he shouted in shocked realization when he found he was weaponless. He looked around warily, ready to leap into the fray of battle at a moment's notice, but all he could see were stars due to the bright flash of light when the bulb blew out. A wicked grin flashed across his face as he glanced at the fallen guards, all of whom carried guns. "Should've shot the bastard outright..." he mumbled to himself. Of course, he knew what this Kristofer Schanz's abilities were, and knew that, if he had successfully shot a bullet at point-blank range at the man, the force of the bullet would have lodged into his own body rather than Chance's. Omicron had warned him as such. He took a look back into the dark room and crouched down to reach over to pick up the guard's gun.

WHAM!

"Gah!" he cried out as the full force of Chance's weight drove into him from above, smashing his head backwards onto the stone floor. X-Acute's quick hand grabbed the guard's gun, however, and shot wildly once just as Chance landed on him, knocking the gun out of his hand and down the corridor. "OOF!"

"Ya kinda fight like a WOMAN, don'tcha, b'y?" the ghost of Pete Glover said mockingly. Chance didn't answer. He had taken the opportunity of the guard's shooting at X-Acute to leap up to the metal girders on the ceiling, which was thankfully much lower than in the laboratory he'd so recently been in.

X-Acute was dazed but he wasn't out. A split-second after Chance landed on him, knocking the wind out of him, the gunman kicked his legs up into Chance's back, knocking him into the corridor wall. Chance was startled by this, but he took the opportunity to bolt, not noticing that a piece of paper had fallen from his hand as he hit the wall.

"Ha!" X-Acute laughed as he jumped up and went for the guard's gun again, firing off several rounds towards Chance from the spot. "Little weasel..." he said as he stopped and bent down to pick up the map. "Looks like you dropped your m--" he began, cutting himself off as he unfolded it and realized that he was actually looking at what seemed to be an inventory list for this storeroom. He paused only to utter a string of curses before deciding what to do next -- go for the map or find his .45s first.

"Aw, hell!" he spat as he ducked back into the room to retrieve his guns. No way was he leaving "Betsy" and "Frieda" behind!

Chance rubbed his face in horror as he ran down the passageways -- that redneck back there had actually managed to hurt him! For the first few moments after he had hit the stone wall, his nose, jaw and forehead felt so raw that the skin seemed to be broken. Yet, while he was running, the pain began to diminish even as he stopped bleeding. There was still a sensation where the injuries had been sustained, but there seemed to be no sign of the injuries at all on his face any longer. They had healed. Yet the fact that he had sustained the injuries in the first place left him wondering what had happened to his force-redirection ability. Perhaps his body had undergone some kind of chemical reaction when he experienced that shooting pain throughout his whole body not long ago! It seemed as though things were somewhat different in this world than in his own -- had his own body also "adjusted" itself somehow to this world now, after all these months? Or was there some other kind of explanation. Whatever it was, Chance knew he couldn't count on his extra-normal abilities again until he had a chance to test them fully. None of the many bullets that X-Acute had shot in his direction had found their mark, however, so his luck was still holding.

"Not expectin' that, were ya, me old son?" Pete said, laughing. "O' course, I could'a told you what was happenin' to yer body back then, but that would'a spoilt all'a my fun, wouldn't it, me boyo?"

The Swede rubbed his jaw again enough to know it wasn't broken -- at least any longer -- and opened his mouth, not to reply but to retrieve the parchment piece of the map. He'd stuffed it in his mouth at the same moments he had leaped to the ceiling and disarmed the redneck gunman back there. "Let me get a good look at you," he said to no one in particular as he shook the piece of parchment open and took a good look at it as he ran past torchlights on the corridor wall.

He stopped looking at the map when he saw light up ahead and several dead, blood-covered guards lying before a gaping hole in the wall through which the moonlight shone. A few of them were decapitated.

Chance stuck his head out through the opening and looked outside to see Drax flying through the air with the Cyclops hanging off of him while trying to hang on tightly. He also saw Crasher sitting up from the ground, slightly dazed but all right. It looked like she'd taken a fall. Luckily for her, the soil surrounding the tower in this, the Amazon rainforest, was anything but hard -- most of the decaying vegetation would have broken her fall. Lastly, he saw Euro dueling with the leader of the other team he'd recognized from the Uffizi Museum -- both held swords, but Eurostar's sword was a heavy broadsword, while his opponent's seemed to be merely a collapsible one which, while it seemed to be made of a durable substance, was fit only for dueling against a sword of comparable size. While he seemed to be holding his own, the sword Eurostar held in his hands moved of its own accord -- if the man had only his sword to rely on, he didn't stand a chance...

The Luckiest Man Alive leapt from the several stories high wall opening down to the ground, landing in a tumble-roll.

Johnny Omicron was startled to see a completely naked man land on the ground by the Tower, though he quickly recognized the man as Chance. He hoped that there weren't any other members of this team somewhere here. His information on this other team was very limited, as there seemed to be almost no information whatsoever about them on the internet, and the records the La Perditian government had on the team were sparse and out-of-date. The recent hurricane likely had something to do with that.

"Need some help?" Chance shouted at Edulcore Cicciotto as he ran over to check on the dazed Crasher.

Cicciotto never took his eyes off his opponent as he savagely thrust his sword at his enemy, intending to lop Johnny Omicron's head off at his earliest opportunity. "I need no help from thee, d'Artagnan! Porthos can hold his own in a duel with Cardinal Richelieu! Ha ha!"

"You're completely nuts!" Johnny said finally. A split second later the broadsword shattered Omicron's collapsible sword in two.

Cicciotto lifted his Ladnikia to Johnny Omicron's throat, a grin on his face. "Prepare yourself to meet your maker, foul villain!"

"Have it your way, then," Omicron said with a shrug, firing off his still-raised gauntlet and firing off a concussive blast which sent Euro and his sword flying backwards some twenty feet into the air and back down onto the ground with a thud. He began walking over to him.

"Hold it!" Chance shouted as he placed himself between the two, holding his left palm in the air.

"Look, Kristofer Schanz, or whoever you are," Johnny Omicron began, "We really don't have any interest in any of you at all. We only want the map. It's business, is all. Just business. Now give me the map before anybody else gets hurt!"

Chance stared him down for a few moments, and then grinned. "No."

Omicron sighed. "Fine, then, be that way..." he said as he raised his gauntlets again and prepared to fire.

It was then that a large, furry tail slammed him off his feet hard into the side of the Tower of Cuccubao.

"Thank you, Drax," Chance said, laughing. "Now help me get the Raptor and Crasher into the hovercraft, and we'll be on our way."

"What about Ameristar?" Drax said.

"Oh, shoot..."

"Hey assholes!" the sneering voice of X-Acute shouted as he walked out from the Tower door.

"Want me to fry 'im?" Drax said with a snarl.

"No, no, wait," Chance said, pointing, "look!"

"That's right, 'Buck Naked'!" X-Acute shouted as he held one of his two Smith & Wesson .45s to the side of the unconscious Ameristar's head, who he dragged roughly with one arm. He wore a wicked grin on his face.

"X!" groaned Johnny Omicron as he struggled to get himself up from the ground, his flight suit fizzling slightly and obviously damaged somewhat.

"I'll make you pansies a deal -- it's a real sweet deal, too," X-Acute went on, ignoring his leader. "You give us the map and let us go freely..." He looked down at Ameristar and pulled her up against him in an embrace, still with the cannon of the gun cocked at her temple. "...and I promise I won't pull a bullet in your cute, unconscious friend's brain here!"

"X... no, don't..." Johnny said, standing up weakly.

"Shut up, Omicron!" X-Acute said hotly, still staring at Chance. "Well, Buck? Do we have a deal?"

Chance's eyes almost glowed with anger. He clenched and unclenched his fist at the thought. But finally he said, "Fine. The map and your freedom for the girl's life."

"Heh. Well... I'm glad to find some reason in this godforsaken place!" X-Acute said. "Omicron -- the map." Johnny Omicron walked with a slight limp over to Chance. "AND NO TRICKS OR SHE DIES!" X-Acute added quickly.

"He means it, you know," Johnny Omicron said as he walked up to the Swede, who handed him the map with a great deal of reluctance. "It really didn't have to be this way," he said as he began walking back over to the hovercraft. Arges had just become conscious and was shaking his head as Johnny motioned him to get aboard.

"Now give us the girl," Chance said.

"Nuh-uh-uh, Buck," the gunslinger said as he walked backwards towards the hovercraft, dragging the limp body of Ameristar with him. "The deal is -- we get away, and then you get the girl!"

"I've given you my word. Leave the girl alone!"

"Hey, I gave you my word, too, Buck. And I'm good for it. Just watch me!"

"What are you doing?" Euro shouted angrily at Chance from just behind him. "You just GAVE them the map and let them walk away!"

"Trust me," Chance whispered to his ally, who seemed to be back in the real world again.

Johnny Omicron powered up the hovercraft, and X-Acute jumped in through the side door, still holding onto Ameristar. The hovercraft rose up into the air and circled back over the heroes.

"You want her?" X-Acute shouted from the side of the hovercraft. "Come an' get her!!!" At that, he dropped Ameristar's limp body out the door from a height as tall as the tower.

"DRAX!"

"Got it," the fuzzy white dragon said as he pushed himself off the ground and into the air after the girl. He quickly caught her in mid-air and brought her safely back down to the ground.

"Well, that's just great!" the Raptor shouted, raising his hands in the air. "They just took off with both the map and our only means of transport!"

"It's not so bad, Euro," Chance said. "Ameristar's still alive, isn't she? And we don't need the map. I've got it all right up here," he said, tapping the side of his head. "Photographic memory. Comes in handy sometimes."

"So what are we going to do with Ameristar, anyways?" Drax said. "She needs to get to a real doctor quickly, and there's no way I'll be able to fly her to one at this point. That fight really took a lot of energy from me. I can't stay in dragon-form for much longer."

The Raptor sighed impatiently. "So much for our only other possible mode of transportation!"

"I'll take her," Crasher said. "She's my responsibility, anyway."

"But your armor's in bad shape, Crasher," Chance said. "And you look none too healthy either."

"I can manage it just fine. I'll just take a Jeep -- there are a few around here -- to the nearest town and get a flight out from there. Just go without me. Ameristar would want you to find that book before the other team does."

"Then it's settled," Eurostar said. "Let's get going now. There's no time to waste!"

"I think I should stay with them," Drax said then. "If they run into trouble, they need someone to protect them."

Chance stopped Euro from responding to this angrily. "Okay, Drax. I agree. It's the right thing to do."

Chance and a still-angry Eurostar said a quick farewell to their allies and found a Jeep of their own which would carry them further west into the jungle for a little while, at least. It was still a long way from Peru from here.

Drax changed back to Drake and helped Crasher carry Ameristar and Ameristar's ruined armor into their Jeep, and they watched as Chance and Euro drove off westward into the brush. It was still a couple of hours before dawn.

"This was supposed to be my first mission with these guys, you know," Drake said to Crasher as she started up the engine. "Didn't exactly go as well as I'd have liked it to."

"Life's a bitch," Crasher said as she backed up the Jeep and turned at the same time. She started moving forward until a figure dropped just in front of her headlights.

"Hello."

"Who the hell--?!" she said, tensing up again and ready for another fight. She looked at the grey-haired man. "Marc? Is that you?"

"Hello, Crasher."

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

Half an hour later, as Chance and the Raptor drove in silence through the backcountry, they were suddenly startled as they heard a loud thumping sound coming from the rear-seat.

"Mind if we join you?" the girl with the red boots said as she made herself comfortable in her seat.

"Crasher?!?" Chance exclaimed, stopping the Jeep. "Well, I'm glad you could make it, but what did you do with Ameristar? Was Drax able to fly her to the hospital all right?"

"Even better," Crasher said smiling. "A friend of mine came by to pick her up -- I think she'll be all right, now. Oh, and, uh... Drax? He's... he's around here somewhere..."

"...aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--OOF!"

"Drake?" Chance said as the human form of Drax plopped into the seat next to Crasher after changing back from just a few feet above the Jeep. "Way to make an entrance, buddy."

"Thanks... ouch! ...but I think, in the future, I'll just leave the crashing to our friend, here," Drake said.

"Enough chit-chat," the Raptor said then. "We have a mission to do. Let's go find the Lost City!"

[ 03-16-2003, 03:34 PM: Message edited by: TheTimeTrust ]

His heart pounding and his wings beating, Danny threw himself up and over the wall of the cemetery.

He remembered the first time he met Mxy.

I remember the first time I met Mxy.

We were at an airport, in Chicago. I'd just flown there with Edulcore, after meeting him in the Mandelovian desert. We ended up getting chased by Ktl, in the body of Ed's old running rival. And then... there was Mxy.

He was floating around in his top hat and his big black coat, oblivious to the chaos he was causing around him. That was the first thing that struck me about Mxy. The rest of us... me, Ed, Tobias... we were always acutely aware when we were causing a scene. We knew that people were staring at us. We knew that reporters would snap pictures, and onlookers would gasp and point. But Mxy... he just didn't seem to notice. Or care.

The first thing he said to me was "That word that means I'm meeting you now having not been meeting you before!"

And then I just paused, staring at him. After a moment I offered "...hello?" As a suggestion. At which he just smiled and said "Yes! Hello! That!" Then he grabbed my hand and shook it hard, in the manner of someone who'd never done it before but had seen other people do it and just assumed it was the right thing to do.

That... that was the first time I ever met Mxy.

And now it seems like he's in trouble. Which, for Mxy, is unusual. He's never in trouble. He's powerful enough to take care of anything. Except Ktl. His other half. His opposite number. The one thing in the universe that could match him.

And even more worrying than the prospect of losing Mxy is that of losing Mick.

I remember the first time I met Mick. It was after the airport incident, and we'd headed back to this little lakeside cabin to regroup. Tobias had roughly explained to me the situation involving Mick and Mxy, but I'd yet to see the change myself.

I looked to the side of the room, where Mxy was staring out the window, yellow light crackling from his eyes. He looked over the lake and sighed, then smiled contentedly and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the light had gone.

He shouted "Where the hell...?! Shit! Again?!"

And this had confused me for a second. Until I remember what Tobias had told me about Mick and Mxy, and the sharing of their body. I walked over and introduced myself.

"Hi. I'm Danny," I said offering my hand.

"Mick... I think," He'd replied.

And this was a time when I was unsure of anything. I was in a new time, and a new place, with these new powers. I was scared and alone and sad and angry. But meeting Mick, this normal guy, just seemed... well, normal. That was what Mick was like.

Mick was never a superhero. He was never the one with the zany powers who'd stand at the front line and yell "CHARGE!". He was the normal guy, the guy who'd hang around the headquarters eating Cheetos while the rest of us stressed about the people we'd seen killed that day.

Because, of course, any time he saw action he'd have to change into Mxy. Still... Mick always hung around. He could have walked away. He could have refused to ever summon Mxy again. But he didn't. He stayed. Just in case we ever needed Mxy.

Even though he knew that every time Mxy went into battle, he was risking his own body... he stayed.

More than anything, I hope that Mick will be okay.

The Lost City of the Dragons
CHAPTER 219
"THE PANTS... OF DEATH!"

The group of four were continuing through the old jungle road in the Jeep, when Drake spoke up:

"Oh, yeah. I completely forgot -- Chance, before we rendezvoused with you guys, we went back to the Tower to pick up your clothes."

"Oh?" Chance answered.

"Yeah. I really think you should put on some pants, man."

"Don't do it for my sake, Chance," said Crasher with a smile. "I really don't mind..."

Chance seemed to mumble a response to a voice only he could hear, and after a moment he stopped the Jeep and put on some clothes.

[ 03-16-2003, 02:46 PM: Message edited by: TheTimeTrust ]

"That was a stupid gamble, X!" Omicron shouted, fixing his armor with a portable tool kit he carried on his person. "Do you realize what could've happened back there?"

"Relax!" X-Acute said, rolling his eyes and waving the map at his boss. "We made out alright, didn't we?"

"This time..." Omicron said, reconnecting two split wires. "However, what would've happened if something had gone wrong? What would you have done then?"

"Shouldn't we be planning our Peruvian initiative?" Arges grumbled, still holding his head. "We can always bicker amongst ourselves later..."

X-Acute and Omicron eyed each other warily.

"Alright," X-Acute shrugged.

"Sounds good," Omicron nodded, tweaking a few final adjustments on his armor. "Xyber, how much longer until we get to this 'Lost City of Dragons'?"

"Very little time, in this vehicle," the voice of Xyber broadcast across the hovercraft's intercom. "It runs on something called a probability engine... all I have to do is think and it happens. I've never seen technology like this before..."

"Think you might be able to come up with a blueprint so I can make a patent?" Johnny said, laughing as he sealed up his armor.

"It's possible," the digital girl responded. "Also, Mr. O... if you have the time, I left some blueprints from the armor that the tart with the shortened Dee Snider hair-do was wearing on your PAD. I was wondering if you could give 'em a look-see."

"Sure," Omicron said, flipping open his Palm Pilot and opening the "Xyber" folder. Skimming over the blueprints, he raised an eyebrow. "Uh... Xyber... I'm not sure if these are real or not..."

"What do you mean, boss?" Xyber's voice sounded confused.

"I mean, the configuration's all wrong..." Johnny said, eying the specs. "The power core, for one, is something like the motor found on an old blender with just a little more amperage. Not nearly enough to power a suit like that... or mine, for that matter."

"So what now?" Xyber asked.

"Just be careful," Omicron said, gravely. "As important as this job is, I want to make sure we all make it out okay... got it?"

"Sure, whatever," X-Acute said, perusing the map.

"Yeah," Arges said, taking a swig of mead from the wineskin he'd toted with him.

"Roger that, Mr. O."

"Are the others en route?" Omicron asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Should be meeting us in Peru, Mr. O," came Xyber's reply. "But, for all I know... Pneuma may already be there..."

"Alright," Omicron said, closing his eyes and folding his hands behind his head. "It won't be long now..."

"I wasn't able to find my armor in there though." Drake sounded a little depressed. "Luckily I had these other cloyhes handy and a spare pair of crutches. I'm just not sure how much good track pants and a Daffy Duck t-shirt are going to do me if we run into trouble."
There was some silence until Chance finally said what they were all thinking "Where did you get those anyway?"
"I can keep stuff in the dimension Drax and I stay in when we aren't in this one. It's better than those space bags they sell o the infomercials. I wonder where my armor ended up anyway."

----------------------------------------------------

"Wad got new clothes! Wad got new clothes!" The smaller of the two strange figures sneaking away from the tower was full of excitement.

"Quiet!" One voice from the other figure said.

"You'll get us discovered!" Another voice from the same figure added.

"Wad is sorry." Both figures were quiet after that as they headed for the jungle.

Danny, TC and Kristogar stood in the cemetery and looked at the sky. A big ball of light floated where Mxy and Ktl had been. Then, the ball of light started expanding.

The light was so bright that it blinded the heroes, and not even TC was able to react because of his temporary blindness. Soon, the whole cemetery was covered by the light...

And then the light dissapeared.

But the cemetery wasn't back to normal: now it was covered by dense smoke, emanating from the ground. As the smoke started clearing up, the ruin that was the cemetery now was made visible. The tombs, the crypts, the guardian's post... everything had been turned into debris. The vegetation was all dead. Not even the gates had survived whatever the ball of light had done to the place.

Danny, Kristogar and TC were buried under the debris. Only Danny's right arm was visible, and it was covered in blood. The only being that remained councious and on his feet was Ktl, in Mick's body. Lying close to him was Mxy. The body Mxy was using, Tom's, was severely burned everywhere. The little clothes he had been wearing were gone.

Ktl looked around. He seemed to be waiting for someone, or something. And suddenly, it arrived. It came for everywhere at once. The only being there to see it had a fifth dimensional mind, and even he had troubles understanding it. It was something even more complex than a 5th dimensional being... It was an 8th dimensional being. Ktl wasn't sure if it was one or more beings... or if the concept even applied.

"It was about time," Ktl said.

"<THE CONCEPT OF TIME IS TOO PRIMITIVE FOR ME/US, 5D. IT SHOULD BE FOR YOU, TOO>>" it somehow communicated to Ktl. It wasn't exactly talking, but Ktl could understand the message.

"I've been here too long, I guess. Here's your prisioner," Ktl said, pointing at Mxy. "Don't let him escape this time, eh?"

"<HE WAS TAKEN TO HELL, 5D*. HELL IS OUTSIDE MY/OUR JURISDICTION. THEN HE WAS TAKEN HERE. BUT HE WON'T BE FREED THIS TIME. I/WE WILL KEEP HIM COMPLETELY UNCOMMUNICATED>"

(* in Naecken: Prince of Hell)

"Just take him and go away."

"<I/WE AM/ARE NOT REALLY HERE, 5D. WHEN I/WE COME IT WILL BE TO STAY.>"

Then something come out of Tom's burnt body. It was like the 8th dimensional being, only somehow less complex. A 5th dimensional being.

"Goodbye, 'bro'," Ktl said as the 8th and 5th dimensional beings slowly started to dissapear.

"<WHAT WILL YOU DO IN 3D NOW, 5D?>"

"Oh, you know. I got several beings to kill. When I'm done with Mxy's friends, I guess I'll continue with everyone else, until they run out."

"<GOOD. THEN THERE WILL BE NO BEINGS TO INTERFERE WHEN I/WE START THE COLONIZATION,>" it communicated, and seconds later they were completely gone.

Ktl looked around. He was alone now.

The he fell on his arse, as reality around him started changing.

The cemetery was no longer in complete ruins. The vegetation was back. The gates were restored.

From behind a crypt came Danny, TC and Kristogar.

"Is it over, Mxy?" Kristogar asked.

Ktl/Mick looked at him. He started changing too, into Mxy/Tom. And at the same time, Mxy/Tom lying next to him changed into Ktl/Mick... Only Ktl wasn't there anymore.

"It's over," Mxy/Tom said with a smile. He seemed tired from making the big illusion he had just done, but happy it was over at the same time.

Mick woke up. Being used to waking up in weird places feeling confused (from even before he met Mxy), he didn't panic like most people would.

"What happened?" Mick asked.

"KtlwasinyourbodyandMxywas(andstillis)inthisguysbodyandyouhadaf
ightandMxytrickedsome8thdimensionalbeingsintotakingKtlawaytothe
irdimensionandimprisonhimliketheyimprisonedhimonlyhewontescape
likeMxydidbecausetheywillkeephimuncommunicatedthistime," TC said.

"Neat," Mick replied, getting on his feet.

Mick looked at Mxy/Tom sitting on the grass. "Well?" he said, "What are you waiting for?"

"For what?" Mxy asked.

"Getting into my body again. C'mon, if that guy wants a fifth dimensional being he should get one of his own. C'mon, c'mon, hop in"

Mxy smiled. "There I--"

"--go!" he said, now in Mick's body. "Well guys, I'd love to catch up, but it's time for my nap! See ya! MICK!"

"Well... What now?" Kristogar asked.

"We have to find the book," Danny answered. "That's what we're here for, after all."

"What about you?" TC said to Tom. "Where did Mxy take you from?"

"The Phillipines," Tom replied.

"Wow, that's a long way from here... Want me to give you a leap?" TC asked.

"No thanks," Tom said, "I think I'll walk."

[ 03-16-2003, 06:19 PM: Message edited by: I'm Not Mister Mxypltk ]

The road end right on the bank of a very wide river, swollen of brown-chocolate fast flowing water.

“The Amazon?” I ask.

“One of his branches” says Chance. And then, looking at Crasher and Drake: “Any clothes for Euro you didn’t find?”

Crasher grins, in his usual manner: “Why? He looks fantabulous this way!”

Drax’s eyes rotates upward. Chance shakes his head.

“I am perfectly fine this way” I say. The only thing that covers me is the scabbard with Ladnikia.

“You are getting stranger day by day, Ed” whispers the Swede, getting off the car. He walks right to the border of the bank. “What we can do? From here we can go only by boat, upstream. And we have not a boat.” He turns to face us.

“Marc has not brought any spare Gaia Unit” says Crasher. “It seems there is a problem with the powering gem. My dad has suspended any use of it, for the moment”.

“Drax is too weak to transport you, guys. Maybe in a few hours he will be fine. Maybe we shhould just wait for when he is ready” explains drake.

“Sitting down while the Omikrons have the map AND the hovercraft? Thy will be at the Lost City in hours, if not in minutes” says Chance. He turns to me. “Ed, fly up, and see if there is any trace of civilization. We need a plane, or the book is lost for us!”

I look at my… lower parts. “If I have not to impress any lady, I think I need your trousers, Kristopher” I say, smiling. Crasher says: “Oh, no!” The chemist, reluctantly, take his away and hand them to me.

I put them on, and then run toward the rim of the bank, dive down sporeading my feathers, caressing the surface of the river, and then begin to rise, slowly, in ample circles, like a buzzard.

Soon, the forest is just a green carpet, fractured by shining veins. Far on the east is the Tower of Cuccubao, which is on flame, covered by clouds of smoke. On the opposite direction, far far away, there is a big clearings, with what seems roofs. A village of settlers.

I begin my dive toward the place.

23 Pescados Drive, Del Mar, La Perdita:
"The Fish Factory", the temporary headquarters of MBL Consulting.

The telephone rang. It was getting close to dawn, but he'd had no sleep at all this night.

Kit Piper picked it up. He was still quite shaken by the events of the last two days, but he was beginning to gain new hope for his daughters' welfare. "Uh... hello? Kit Piper here. How can I help you?"

"Piper."

"Griffin?!!" Kit exclaimed, his face brightening considerably. "My God, man, have you found the locations of my daughters already?"

"Tell Mr. Montag and his young... friend... aheh... to check their pockets. I'm sure they'll find therein all necessary information on the location of your daughters and their mother. I'll expect to see half of my total fee wired to my Swiss bank account within the next 6 hours. I will contact you again once the second level of the job you've hired me for is complete."

"Uh, sure, sure..." Kit said, smiling. "Well, uh, should I shoot you an e-mail to let you know when the boys have done their job, or--?"

"No need, no need. I will know." At that, the man known only as Griffin hung up the receiver on the other line.

Kit Piper clicked a button on the intercom and spoke into it: "Griss, Phil -- check your pockets, guys. Your mission is a 'go'!" The butterflies in his stomach were still giving him problems, and his nerves could only be sated through a walk around the Factory until he heard back from the guys.

The temporary President of MBL Consulting stepped out of his makeshift office and just started walking around. He didn't know if he would see prison time for embezzling from the company or not, but he knew his days as "President" and "Financial Advisor" were numbered. What would the guys do when they found out what he'd done? Would they take into consideration his desperation to save his daughters' lives when they passed their judgment on him? Kit didn't want to think about it. Not now. Not now.

"Daniela?" he said as he walked down a hallway and saw the teenaged former member of La Perdita's PSI-Unit standing completely still in the centre, staring off into space in a daze. "Hey, girl, how are you doing? Coping all right?"

She didn't answer.

"Daniela?" Kit waved a pudgy hand across her face before her eyes. Nothing. No response whatsoever. "Hey, girl, what's going--" he began, cutting himself off as he tried to place a hand on her shoulder, only to find that it passed completely through her, as if she were a phantom. A moment later she simply seemed to completely dissolve.

"What the--?!" Kit exclaimed, not knowing what to think. He stood there for a few moments more, wondering if this kind of thing always happened around these metahuman folks.

The four hooded men continued to watch the scene unfold in the cauldron.

"In the cards, you say? For our avatar, our watchdog, to face his possible doom mere months after his creation?" one of them inquired, not believing his ally's comments.

"Indeed. Do you not remember the oracle's warning to him?*" he responded. "Besides, he must be battle tested. And he would have to face the death avatar sooner or later anyway. Better he learn what he can of him now, to use such knowledge if necessary later."

(* see I, Vengeance)
*************************************

Grimm and Vengeance fought on, tearing into each other without abandon as the lightning bolts continued to surge and strike. Zombies hit the bolts and popped and sizzled filling the area with the sickening stench of burnt and rotting flesh. Blue energy hovered in the air momentarily, before finding a new home, either with Grimm or the demented and possessed Priest.

Tayden, Dirk, and Jason looked on at the scene of unrelenting horror before them. Dirk and Jason were checking their weaponry and awaiting the zombie onslaught to begin anew.

"I'm going down there," Tayden said, his face a mask of stoic resolution.

"Are you crazy? You can't survive down there. You'll be murdered. . ." Hill pleaded with him.

The angel, for his part, looked at the young man, smiled, and gave him a thumbs up. "I've seen much worse than this."

Dirk Bell, never looking up from checking the jury rigged machine gun he had placed at the bookstore window merely said, "We've got you covered."

"Here," Jason placed a small pistol in Tayden's hand. "At least take this with you."

"No, brother," he answered, "I won't need it. I have all I need within." and with that, Tayden stepped out the door and walked towards the battlefield.

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

Vengeance motioned with his free hand as he stood over Grimm, having struck a brutal blow with his flaming sword. The zombies continued to be blasted by lightning as Vengeance's vicious cycle roared to life with a sound like thousands of souls screaming in defiance. The bike blasted into life, smashing through the lightning-ring barricade and circling around the two gladiators.

Stopping with it's rear facing Grimm, suddenly the ends of what would be exhaust tubes on an earthly constructed motorcycle flipped open as chains shot out from both ends and wrapped themselves expertly around Grimm's neck. The bike kicked into gear and sped off, blasting through the barricade again and heading off down the street, dragging Grimm behind it.

The bike careened back and forth, making turns that no earthly bike could stay upright with, as it's unwilling follower was slammed repeatedly into cars, mailboxes, lampposts, and even buildings. Vengeance directed the bike with his mind, having had months to learn the layouts of the city and its streets.

"Ready to roll out, Philsy?" Grissom asked as he slung his backpack over one shoulder.

Phil nodded. "Just about." He sat by the window in Gabi's room in the Fish Factory and looked out at the ocean. "Gathering my thoughts." He smirked. "I guess that's a good thing for a telepath to do once in a while."

The mercenary nodded. "Must be rough on you."

"What's that?"

Grissom shrugged. "Well, Gabi's dead, the guy responsible for her dying is out there somewhere, Leslie left, and you're about to go out and do more of what you did in New York. Don't tell me that doesn't get to you."

Phil turned. "I can't deny that. Honestly, there's not too much keeping me going right now."

"But?"

"But I can't just cease to function. We've got a job to do here. There's a very desperate man who needs his kids back. And that," Phil said, "is a situation in which I definitely can function." He looked back out the window. "When all this is over, I'm sure I'll have a lot to think about. But I can't have all that on my mind when I'm out there on a mission."

"I have to know one thing," Grissom said.

"And that is?"

"When this is over," the mercenary asked, "are you leaving too?"

There was a long silence.

"I... I don't know," Phil said hesitantly. "You guys... this team... it's all I have left. I don't know if I can walk away from that."

"Not even if you could find out who you are?"

Phil shook his head. "Honestly, with some of the things I've done, I'm not sure I want to know who I really am. All that matters now is that I'm Phil Smith of the MBL. My identity - like your identity - is tied to this team now, no matter what happens. All I'm concentrating on is this mission. I'll worry about everything else once I get the chance."

Grissom nodded. "Fair enough." He looked at his watch. "We'll be in touch," he said, indicating the tiny high-frequency earpiece in his right ear. "How are you planning on getting there without arousing the suspicion of any of those blokes who might be watching?"

Phil smiled. "You forget with whom you're dealing, my friend. I'm creative."

Grissom shrugged. "Take care of yourself, mate." He turned and headed down to the motor pool, Intrepid keys in hand.

Phil got up to close the window - and noticed two scraps of paper tucked beneath the comforter. He picked them up and read the first one, a torn-out scrap of journal paper.

Phil,
If you get this, it probably means that something's happened, and I'm no longer there with you...

It was from Gabi. Phil tucked it into his wallet carefully. He would read it later, when he could afford the emotional distraction.

The second was a folded piece of notebook paper with neatly-printed writing on it.

Phil,
I guess I should start by saying I'm really sorry everything happened this way. It all came up so fast that I don't think either of us knew what to make of it. I'm really sorry about Gabi. I never really knew her, but I know she was very important to you.

Anyway, I'm leaving now, but I wanted to leave this for you, and I figured you'd wind up in here at some point. I know you're really torn up over this whole situation, but I want you to know that my offer still stands. I don't know when I'll see you again, but I do know that my feelings for you haven't changed. I'm sure that's cold comfort now, as I'm not there and someone you love very much was just taken from you, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I never let you know that I care about you.

I really want to keep in touch, but I don't know how easy that will be where I'm going. Turner - if that's even his real name - sounded like he was all business. Anyway, I have a strong-encrypted text-messaging system in my phone and palmtop, and I want you to have it so you can communicate with me. The addresses and encryption sequences are at the bottom of this page.

Please get in touch with me soon. I really need to hear from you.

Love always,
Leslie

Phil folded the paper up and put it in his wallet with the other note. He would deal with this later.

Phil looked in the mirror. If this mobster had spies all over the place, then chances were that they knew who he was and what he looked like.

Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

It was time to get to work.

The village is desert. It’s just a bunch of cabins, with a short strip of grass to be used as a landing place for small planes. Cessna, that kind of aircraft. Not that I have any knowledge of airplanes. There is a rusted hangar at one side of the strip.

I continue to hovering in big circles high above the village, then, when I am sure nobody is in sight, I dive down. I land just behind the hangar, and suddenly a dog begins to bark.

So, this village is not really desert, after all.

I retire my feathers inside the arms, put some dirt on my feet, to look like I walked, and with water from my water bottle I try to make myself looking like I am sweating. Then, I walk around the corner, toward the entrance of the hangar.

Inside, there is a small airplane, I would say 50 years old or more, but like i said, I am no expert. Over the plane, there is a man. Alerted from the dog, he is ready to shot me with a rifle.

“I am friend” I say, raising my arms.

“A gringo, eh? But your accent is funny”.

“I am Italian, sir. I am with… an international archaeologist expedition. My name is professor Sardella. Guido Sardella.”

“Redpatch. Armadillo Redpatch, at your service.” The man is short, a meter and sixty, tanned, slim, muscular but with a large belly. Very white teeth and short, black curly hair complete the picture. Plus, obviously, the red patch that cover his left eye.

I look around. “I… am asking for your services, sir. I would rent your plane. Assuming it’s still functioning, of course”.

The man grimaces. “OBVIOUSLY it does function.” He looks at me, going from the top of my bald head to the nails of the feet fingers. “You have money?”

I take a roll of dollars from one of the pockets of my trousers, and throw them to the man, which quickly catches it. “Uhm, good. And where I should bring you?”

“First, to my colleagues on the other side of the river, and then to Peru. Cordillera Azul.”

The man stares at me. “Peru? Are you mad?”

“No. And I have many of those rolls of paper for you”.

The man jumps down from the airplane, takes my hand and shakes it. “Deal!” exclaims.

It just some minute later, when we are flying with his plane, over the Amazon, that the man turns to me, and asks: “How did you said you crossed the river?”

“Swimming?” is my only reply.

La Perdita International Airport, Puerta Mibela

"Will this be your first visit to New Orleans, Mr. Krycek?" the TWA employee asked from behind the ticket counter.

"Yes, it will," the man replied from behind his dark sunglasses. His khaki shorts, Hawaiian shirt, and bucket hat betrayed his tourist status almost as much as the bulky camera he wore around his neck. "I have not seen very much of the Southern United States, and I would like to add it to my travels before I return home."

"What do you do for a living?" the clerk asked as she scanned Krycek's luggage with the X-ray machine.

"I am the head coach for the Czech Republic national hockey team," Krycek replied. "I am touring the Caribbean and parts of the U.S. before I return to begin training camp for our players."

"That's impressive," the ticket clerk lied. She handed Krycek his boarding pass. "Have a safe flight."

Krycek thanked her, then headed down the concourse and stopped by the men's restroom. He noticed that it was empty as he went to wash his face in the mirror.

Krycek looked in the mirror and smiled.

Phil Smith's face smiled back at him.

I should do this more often.

somewhere over the Caribbean

The flight attendant with the drink cart moved down the aisle, taking orders and delivering service with a smile, as per usual. She stopped to talk to Krycek, the Czech hockey coach. "Is there anything I can get you, sir?" she asked.

Krycek was in the middle of falling asleep. "No, thank you," he replied. The people on either side of him were already sound asleep. "I think I will get some rest," he said as he pulled his bucket hat over his eyes.

The stewardess smiled and moved on. She took a few more orders and looked back.

Apparently, Krycek had switched seats with someone else fairly quickly, because there was a man sitting in his seat with spiky brown hair wearing khaki pants and a black shirt, sound asleep. The stewardess shrugged it off and proceeded down the aisle.

"Does it do anything?"

Drake looked from the back of his right arm up to Crasher. "Huh?"

"The tattoo on the back of you arm. You keep staring at it."

"Oh, that." It isn't a tattoo. It's some sort of mystic symbol I got marked with when I got hooked up with the dragon."

There was a brief silence before Crasher speaks again. "So, does it?"

"What?"

"Does it do anything, the mystic whatever-it-is. You stare at it like it was a watch and you're waiting for a train"

"Oh. It changes color as Drax gains energy. See how it's black in the middle that's surrounded by red?" Drake held up his arm to make it easier to see.

"Yeah."

"It'll be completely black when Drax is back at full strength."

"Oh, that must come in handy."

"It does, and it gives me something to stare at absently when I'm not wearing a watch."

Chance looked back at them from the front seat. "Do you guys hear that?" The sound of a plane flying overhead could be heard.

Drake smiled "Sounds like our feathered friend has come through for us."

Mimic and Rose sat on opposite sides of a small wooden table, with the tattered remnants of the book they thought to be the Liber Vitae strewn across the surface between them. Mimic held the one surviving piece in his hand, a large piece of parchment that looked to be a map. It was a detailed drawing of an area of land, with some words in Latin scrawled across the bottom. Some numbers were written up the side.
Rose’s attention was divided between Mimic’s face and the map, and she impatiently tapped the handle of a silver handgun against the surface of the table.

The Sheik sat across the room from them, observing them quietly.

Pneuma was absent. They didn’t think to ask where he was. They never asked.

“…a map…” Mimic finally said, his gaze never leaving the paper in his hand.

“Yes. But a map to where?” The Sheik replied, breaking his silence.

“Now there’s a question,” Mimic said, standing up. “The drawing is pretty detailed… rivers. Mountains. That sort of thing. Can you translate this Latin at the bottom?” Mimic crossed the room and handed the map to the Sheik.

He looked at the map for a moment, then said “It is as we suspected. This is a map to the true location of the book.”

“So what was the copy we found? A forgery?” Mimic asked. He received no reply.

“We require an Atlas,” The Sheik said, placing the map back down on the table.

“Right. To compare the map to,” Mimic replied. “Then, we hop on a plane, find the book, and collect our cash…” Mimic opened up his laptop computer, and looked up an online atlas. He typed in the numbers that were written on the map, assuming them to be latitude and longitude. His assumption paid off, as a map of a small area of Peru appeared on his screen. Picking up the piece of parchment, he compared the two. They both had an identical river system running down the middle. They were maps of the same place.

“Bingo. This is our place,” Mimic said. He looked up at his teammates Rose and Sheik, who said nothing.

“You know, when I’M the most talkative member of the party, you know there’s something wrong. I’m supposed to be mysterious…” Mimic said.

Back at the cemetery, Danny sat down. He slumped to the ground, his back against a tree, and let out a sigh. He was tired. None of them had slept since they got on the plane for Berlin, and their recent experience with Ktl had taxed their energy. Although Mxy saw to it that none of them sustained any real major injuries, it was still draining.

But they still couldn’t rest.

“Tired?” Kristogar asked, sitting down next to Danny.

“Kinda,” Danny replied.

“So what’s the next move?”

“We track down those guys. Find out what they know,” Danny said.

“How do we know they even have anything?” Velo asked.

“They had to have found something in that tomb. Otherwise, why the elaborate decoy? Why else would they go to all that effort to throw us off?” Danny explained. Velo just nodded in reply, agreeing with Danny.

Danny closed his eyes, and sighed. He knew he had to keep going, but he was anticipating a post-mission bath and a comfy bed.

“Okay…” He said, standing up. “They have to be travelling somewhere. I’m going to guess they found something. Possibly the Liber Vitae. Possibly not. Whatever it is, they’ll be wanting to bring it to the rest of their team…”

“The rest? How do we know there’s more of them?” Tobias asked.

“The Uffizi musuem. There was a whole group of them,” Danny answered. Tobias nodded, and Danny continued. “Okay, Tobias, you’re with me. We’re going to check out the airport, see if we can find them there, or if anyone fitting that woman’s description has booked tickets.”

“To where? They could be anywhere in the world,” Tobias replied.

“Kristogar. Contact the other teams. See if they’ve sighted any more of the guys from the museum,” Danny said. Velo took out his mobile phone and began to dial.

“Tobias. Head to the airport. It should only be a few seconds from here for you. I’ll follow by air,” Danny said, and looked up. “It’s still dark. Hopefully I won’t be spotted. Don’t want to freak people out. And you…” Danny pointed at Mick. “Get some rest. We’ll meet you back at the hotel room. Okay, let’s move.”

Tobias disappeared, throwing up a small cloud of dust at the spot his feet had just occupied. Danny removed his shirt, sprouted wings, and took off. Mick accepted his orders, and began the ten minute walk back to the hotel. He knew Mxy could have gotten him there in an instant, but… he liked the idea of doing some things under his own power. Kristogar followed behind him, his mobile phone pressed to his ear.

“Chance? It’s Velo. We’re still in Berlin. Where are you? Right. Hey, you know those guys from the museum job in Italy? Have you… you have? Really? Okay, I’ll pass that on. Thanks. Good luck.” And with that, Velo hung up. Redialling, he tried to reach Grimm’s team.

Meanwhile, Tobias had arrived at the airport. He began to scour the place, looking for any sign of their adversaries. He’d seen a couple of them up close… even if one of them had looked just like Danny. But the woman… there was no mistaking her. He knew he’d know her the second he saw her. He ran through every departure lounge, every office, every toilet, every customs checkpoint. The people he ran past didn’t even notice him there. He ran in and checked the place out without dropping his speed.

On his third lap of the airport, Tobias noticed Danny touch down in the darkness outside. The wings shrunk and dissolved, and Danny replaced his shirt.

“Danny,” Tobias said, approaching him.

“Are they here?” Danny asked.

“Nope. Checked the whole place out,” Tobias replied. “No sign of them.”

Meanwhile, Kristogar and Mick were still on the way back to the hotel. Kristogar was still on the phone, trying to reach Grimm’s team.

“Come on, answer…” He muttered to himself. Eventually someone did.

“What?!” Shouted the voice of Dirk Bell through Kristogar’s tiny mobile phone.

“Dirk! It’s Kristogar.”

“And?!”

“Quick question. Has your team run into any of those guys from the Italian museum job?” Chance asked.

“What? No. Haven’t seen them since Italy. Now, this is a REALLY bad time, so I’m going to ask you politely to piss off. Piss off… please.”

Dirk hung up.

Back at the airport, Danny felt his mobile phone vibrate in his pocket as he and Tobias stood at the entrance, wondering what to do next.

“Hello?” He said, answering it.

“Danny. It’s Kristogar.”

“Found anything out?” Danny asked.

“Okay, Grimm’s team hasn’t spotted any of those other guys. But Chance’s team had a run in with them not long ago. Apparently they call themselves ‘Omicron’… Anyway, Chance says they’re all headed to this lost city. Sounds like this is where the book will hopefully be found.”

“If Omicron is still in South America looking for the book, then whatever they found in Netzel’s tomb probably isn’t it. My hunch is it’s probably a map or something that they would want. No other reason to go to so much effort to throw us off… So whatever they’ve found in the tomb, they’re probably headed to Brazil to rendezvous with the rest of their team,” Danny concluded.

“Most likely,” Velo replied.

“Okay. Me and Tobias will meet you back at the hotel.”

“See you soon.”

Danny hung up, and explained the situation to Tobias. The two then made their way to the booking area, hoping that somebody there would have seen someone fitting the description of Omicron’s Rose.

Danny approached the counter, Tobias one step behind him.

“Uh… hi…” Danny said to the person behind the counter, a skinny guy of about twenty who then looked up at the two of them. A look of recognition crossed his face.

“Ah! Sir! Welcome back,” The receptionist said. This threw Danny a bit, and he didn’t know quite what to say. This didn’t really matter in the end, as the skinny receptionist man just kept talking.

“Is there something we can do for you? A problem with the booking?” The man asked.

As Danny opened his mouth to speak, Tobias grabbed him. “We just wanted to know which gate the flight left from,” Tobias asked before Danny could say anything.

Quickly typing something into the computer, the man replied, “The 4:15 flight to Brazil leaves from gate… four. Which is that way. It should be on your boarding pass.” He raised an arm, pointing across the building.

“Thanks a lot…” Tobias said, rushing Danny away.

“Thanks for travelling with us! Have a nice day!” The receptionist shouted as they hurried away.

“What the hell is going on? That guy recognised me!” Danny said to Tobias as the two sat down at the airport bar.

“Yeah. He thinks you’ve already been here booking a flight,” Tobias said.

“What’s with that?”

“One of the guys from the cemetery… one of these Omicron guys. He looked exactly like you,” Tobias explained.

“Huh?”

“Must have been a shapeshifter or something. But his face was the spitting image of yours. And that guy at the counter thought that he was you. Er… you were him. You know.”

“…so those guys have already been and booked a plane ticket,” Danny said, the realisation dawning on him.

“Yeah. And now we know where they’re going,” Tobias replied.

Danny nodded. His hunch was right. “Brazil.”

Back at the hotel, Kristogar and Mick waited for the return of Danny and Tobias. They sat outside in the garden, looking out over the streets and watching the occasional car go by.

“How are you feeling?” Velo asked, acutely aware that Mick had just been through what may have been one of the most intense experiences of his life.

Mick shrugged. “Hungry. Little sleepy…”

Just then, the two saw the figures of Danny and Tobias appear before them. Danny was flying in, making his way down to where they waited. Tobias was running across the ground beneath him, slowing himself down to keep pace with Danny.

Danny landed, shed his wings, and replaced his shirt. Tobias came to a halt next to him.

“Okay… we’re going to Brazil. We’re going to meet up with Chance’s team. Omicron- those guys from the cemetery- have probably found something important in the tomb. They’re going to Brazil to meet up with their team. From there, all of us will be trying to make our way to this ‘lost city’. We need to get there first,” Danny explained. Velo and Mick nodded.

“Mick. Can Mxy get us there fast?” Danny asked.

“Hold on. Let me ask him…” Mick said. “Mxy? We need to get to Brazil. To find the rest of our team. What? Um… cookies. But later. Can you do it? Okay.” Mick looked up at Danny and nodded.

“He can do it, but if we want to meet up with the rest of our team, he needs a signal to lock on to. Brazil’s a big place,” Mick said.

“Right. We call them up. Use the mobile phone signal. Will that work?” Danny asked. Again, Mick nodded. So once again, Kristogar pulled out his mobile phone and dialled up Chance’s phone.

“This is going to be one hell of a phone bill,” Velo said as he dialled.

“It should be fine. We’ve still got a bunch of money in the team’s fund. Piper’s been looking after it,” Danny replied.

“Hello?” Chance said, answering the phone on his end. The signal was a little weak, but Velo’s voice got through.

“Can you just stay on the line for a second? We’re having Mxy teleport us to your location,” Velo said.

“Okay, sure,” Chance said.

“Mick, you ready?” Danny asked.

“Okay… MXY!” He said. There was a bright flash. Danny felt a little self conscious, as he was sure anyone passing on the street would notice.

”Hi guys!’ Mxy shouted, hovering before them.

The three teammates had to jump backwards as the ground opened up beneath them. Appearing from the rupture was an elevator, rising to their level and stopping in front of them. It dinged. The doors opened, and Mxy was standing there dressed as a hotel bellboy.

”First floor… Brazil!”

They all crowded in, Mxy pressed a button labelled ‘WHOOSH!’, and the doors closed behind them.

Below us, the forest canopy extends without limits, fractured only by the glowing veins of the various branches of the Amazon River.

The little plane, where we have crowded in, flies slowly, heading toward another small settlement where we’ll replenish the fuel tank. The planned route on the map, in fact, is a strange zigzag across the green blotch that is the Amazonas, from one settlement to another. It will take us days to rach the Cordillera Azul. And without the whole map, but only the half memorized by Chance’s photographic memory, when we’ll be there, it’s even possible we well never find the right place. Unless… and with Chance that’s more of a certainty than a possibility… we find it by sheer luck.

Chance sits next to the pilot, the strange little man that respond to the exotic name Armadillo Redpatch. Behind, Crasher, me and Drake share a two place seat. Drake is sleeping, The tattoo that, as Crasher explained to me, shows how much stamina Drax has left, it’s totally black. The dragon is back at full power.

Chance is talking by Iridium satellite cellular to Kristogar. It seems they are ready to join us. They, like us, failed somehow their mission at the hand of the same guys that attacked us. The Omikron.

“Ok, sure” says Chance.

A second pass…

… and then an elevator cabin crashes inside the airplane from the floor. Instantly the small aircraft begins to fall, while most of us jumps, or simply get thrown, out of it.

I sprout my feathers out, and brakes my fall. The airplane, below me, splashes in the river, disappearing in the brown cappuccino like waters.

Just above me, Drax circles, abruptly awakened, on his back Crasher grips steadily sat his white fur, more surprised than shocked. With his big bat-like wings, Danny is carrying Kristogar. The others, Tobias, Chance and the pilot, are each one on the back of pink and white flying cows. Mxy, dressed like Snoopy on the roof, waves his hands at me like it’s years that we don’t see each others.

The pilot is riding the cow like a bike, his hands on the horns, keeping his eyes very closed. His mouth, instead, is wide open, and a big river of profanities and obscenities flows out, with no chance of drying out.

As Grimm smashed into another car, his hands finally reached the chains around his neck, and he was able to pull himself forward slowly, stopping only when being slammed into a building or vehicle by Vengeance's cycle. As he pulled himself up along the chain, edging towards the bike, he noticed a slight buzzing coming from the side of his jacket. "Dammit," he thought to himself, "why does the phone always ring when I'm busy?!"

Pulling himself up onto the seat of the bike, he began to wrestle for control of the wheels. Reaching into his jacket with one hand, he pulled the phone out and spoke. "Grimm, here. Danny? Listen, this isn't a good time, what? Dirk hung up on you guys? Well, he IS a bastard. . .Unexpected opposition? Yeah, you could say that. . ." as the bike smashed into a couple of waiting zombies, leaving them piles of muck in the streets, "Omicron? No, not that I'm aware of. Listen, I really have to go, Danny. Ok."

And Grimm steered the bike directly towards Vengeance, waiting with sword in hand. . .

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

As Tayden walked across the battlefield, zombies and dirt exploded around him, quickly taken out by Dirk and Jason from the safety of the bookstore. Tayden remained unharmed the entire time, almost as if he knew unerringly where to step.

New Orleans Regional Airport

Krycek strode down the walkway with his carry-on bag in tow. He headed for the men's room and ducked inside. Phil Smith walked out of the restroom a few moments later. He hadn't encountered any of Gambini's stooges since the two he had run into as Krycek at La Perdita International, but he figured he would still have to be careful, since the mobster was guaranteed to have a few more sets of eyes around this close to his hostages. The Krycek identity had been good enough to get him through security at two major airports, but it would still arouse a little suspicion if the same Mr. Krycek kept popping up all over the place. The mobsters hadn't seen him at LPI, and Phil Smith was dead as far as every law-enforcement department in the U.S. knew, so he might as well be himself for a little while. If someone became suspicious, there were tons of other people he could pass himself off as - and without going through all the trouble of putting on an actual disguise. If you control what people see when they look in your direction, then you can be anyone.

Phil exited the terminal and hailed a cab.

"Where you headed?" the cab driver asked.

Phil thought a moment. "The airport Ramada," he said finally. He handed the cabby a dollar bill. "Hopefully you can get me there in a hurry."

The cabby's eyes widened. "A hundred bucks for a ten-mile ride?"

Phil smiled. "Let's just say I have an important meeting to catch."

The driver floored the gas and peeled out of the cab lane.

As the former angel sprinted across the battlefield of undead, his cell phone rang. A quick look at the caller ID showed that it was Danny. "Sorrykindabusyrightnowcallyabacklater!" he yelled quickly before placing the cell back in his pocket and continueing his trek through the zombie horde.

Meanwhile, in a Mystical Elevator.

Danny hung up his phone and looked at Kristogar, "That's it. We've got to have a talk with Dirk. He even has the angel acting like an ass."

Back in Zombie Town, USA

Tayden took passing blows at zombies that came too close. He was now in the thick of it. All too harshly the zombies were reminded of this particular individual from earlier. He was the one who seperated their souls from their bodies and made them inanimate again. Several broke off their attack. Still, there were some who attacked more fiercly. Most likely, they knew what they were about to receive; and desired it.

In an instant Tayden found himself standing in front of a menacing Priest. The giant towered over him. A grin crossed the futureman's face that oozed evil intentions. "I think you've just biten off more than you can chew, little man."

"Son," Tayden said with his own grin that transmitted a lighter message, "I've taken shits bigger than you." A confused look replaced Priest's grin. "Okay, not really. It's just an expression. You know, to kinda heighten the mood. Push over that whole David and Goliath thing we've got going here." Priest's face now displayed dissapointment at the poor attempt. "Everyone's a critic. This is exactly how I got my Book in The Bible edited out. Can we just get on with this?"

"Go ahead," Priest began to laugh. "I'll let you go first. Then, I'll rip your limbs off one by one before feeding you to my minions."

Tayden limbered up a little before sending his fists into a flurry against the body of the possesed Priest. He began to yell like an old Kung Fu film as he punched and kicked. "Waaaaaaaa hoooooo haaaaaaa heeeeeeeeeee haaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwww yyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaa yooooooooooooooo rabbitpunch woooooooooooooo kicktogroin hehahehahehahehaheha elbowtostomach taaataaataaataaataaa i'mreallykickin'assnow weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" His body paused in a stance that signaled that he was gathering energy for a punch. The angel stared at his own fist intently as his face ran through a series of Bruce Lee fighting impression. A lightening fast blow landed right into Priest's belly as Tayden yelled, "Whoooooowwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Once again he posed with his fist deep into the soldier from the future's stomach. His head trembled slightly as his voice trailed off slowly his battle cry. After a few moments, he stepped back and bowed.

Priest's laughter bellowed out through the deserted town. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Simpleton, you just filled me with more energy. That's why I took this body. All that energy you released is now flowing throughout this entire body."

"I know," Tayden smiled. "That was my plan all along."

Before he could even ask what the angel meant, the huge body of Priest crumpled in on itself. Pain overtook every limb and muscle. Then, the evil spirit felt not the kinetic energy that Tayden had released into the body it currently possesed, but the divine energy that was now acting like anitbodies to his viral presence. "I can't be destroyed now," it said between heaves. "I haven't even told you my evil plbrwahtph!"

Tayden jumped back as the vomit hit the ground. Priests body tettered for a moment before falling backwards onto the concrete.

THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!THUMP!

The angel looked back to see undead bodies being flung through the air as the white van approached. It screeched to a halt in front of him. Priest was quickly, as possible, lifted into the back of the van before it sped off.

"What now?" Hill asked, looking at the unconcious man in the back.

"We find Grimm and his biker twin, settle that shit, then get the hell out of this town," Dirk said while plowing through the sea of zombies.

[ 03-24-2003, 04:27 PM: Message edited by: thedoctor ]

Armadillo Redpatch paced up and down the bank of the river, watching the last of his plane disappear beneath the murky surface of the Amazon river. All that was visible now was the tip of the nose, a few feet of greenish coloured metal. It was quickly shrinking as more and more of it became submerged.

“My plane! My shitbastard plane!” Redpatch yelled. Danny thought this an odd way to swear, until he remembered that ‘gork’ had been a favoured slang word amongst kids when he grew up.

Danny was standing a few metres behind Redpatch, motionless. He watched as the pilot went back and forth, lamenting the sinking of his plane. To Danny’s left sat the rest of his team, sitting in a circle in the shade provided by the surrounding trees. Kristogar, Tobias, Chance, Crasher, and Drake. To Danny’s right there was The Raptor, trying to urge the rest of the team back into action.

“Come on! We’ve no time to waste!” He yelled.

Danny thought that there was someone missing. Looking up, he noticed Mxy hovering above the scene, looking at the disappearing plane with a confused look on his face.

“We need to get going!” Ed said, approaching the rest of the team.

“Ed… the plane,” Danny said in reply.

“IS GONE! So let’s go!” Ed yelled. Danny shot him a stern glance, hoping that it would be the most effective way to say ‘calm the hell down’. These hopes were in vain, as The Raptor didn’t at all calm down. In fact, he seemed to become even less calm. Danny resolved to take a good look at his stern glance in a mirror and see what was wrong with it when the mission was over.

“Damn it, we have no idea how much Omicron know and where they’re headed right now!” The Raptor said, continuing his rant.

“We can’t go yet,” Danny said calmly, stepping closer to Ed.

“Why?!”

Danny nodded in the direction of Armadillo Redpatch. Ed seemed to reluctantly accept his point.

“We damaged his plane. We gorked up his livelihood. We can’t go until we’re sure he’s okay,” Danny explained. Ed just nodded, electing not to ask what Danny meant by ‘gorked’. He went and sat down with the rest of the group while Danny called Mxy.

“MXY!” Danny yelled, looking up and cupping a hand to his mouth. The cow upon which Mxy was perched disappeared, and Mxy dropped to the ground beside Danny.

”I fell,” Mxy said.

“You sure did,” Danny replied. “Now… can you get the plane out of the water and place it safely in that clearing?” Danny pointed, indicating a clearing in between the towering trees about fifty metres downstream.

”No problemo! Mxy replied.

Armadillo Redpatch sat crouched on the riverbank, staring solemnly at the river that had devoured his beloved plane. He wiped a tear from his cheek and wondered why the hell he accepted the job from these freaks. He was about to turn around and say something to them when movement in the water caught his attention.

There was a slight bubbling on the surface, as if some activity underneath were disturbing the otherwise placid water. A moment later, the nose of the plane reappeared, a few inches of steel poking up from the depths. More of it appeared, then more, until a few seconds later Redpatch was staring at the entire front cabin of his plane. He didn’t quite know what to say, so he said nothing and just kept watching.

The plane continued to rise. One wing, then the next. Water cascaded downwards off the steel surface as more and more of it became visible. Until, eventually, the entire plane was hovering a full three metres above the surface of the water.

“Like Yoda…” Tobias said, watching.

Redpatch turned around. He saw that one of the new arrivals, the one in the top hat, was carrying a small toy plane in his hand. Another one, the Australian one, was standing close to him, apparently giving instructions.

“Okay, now gently… very gently… move the plane down that way,” Danny said, pointing. Mxy moved his small toy plane in the direction of the clearing, very slowly and carefully. Simultaneously mimicking the movements of the toy plane, the real one was moving in the same direction. After a few seconds of this, the plane was hovering above the clearing, remaining still.

“Okay, Mxy. Again, very gently… put the plane down. Softly,” Danny said. Mxy held his toy plane out in his right hand, moving his open left palm underneath it. Lowering the toy plane, he set it down on the surface of his palm. The real plane came to a soft landing on the grass.

It was wet, it was damaged, and it had a huge hole in it’s belly, but it was at least on dry land.

“Well, I’ll be damned…” Redpatch said.

“Sir. Does your insurance cover lighting strikes?” Danny asked.

“Huh?” Was all that came in reply from Redpatch.

“Your insurance. Would it cover being hit by lightning?” Danny repeated.

“Yeah, sure… but this aint no lightning strike…”

“Mxy. Can you put some scorchmarks around the hole in the plane’s hull? Just a little bit,” Danny asked.

”Burn, baby, burn! Disco inferno!” Mxy replied.

“Just. A. Little. Bit,” Danny said, emphasising his point. Floating downstream towards the plane, Mxy stood near it. Sparks flew from his hands, striking the edges of the hole. Dark scorchmarks appeared.

“What’s he doing to my plane?!” Redpatch asked, running towards Danny.

“Making it look as if it’s been hit by lightning. Trust me, it’s more believable than ‘a giant elevator from the fifth dimension tore a hole in my hull’,” Danny explained.

“Well… um… okay,” Redpatch said. He didn’t quite know what to make of all this, and he was perfectly willing to play along with Danny’s plan to have the insurance company pay for the repairs.

The Raptor was sitting with the rest of the group, feeling restless. He kept a tight grip on the handle of Ladnikia, drawing circles in the dirt with it.

“We have to go,” He muttered to himself. He was getting more and more impatient to see the mission successfully completed. He was distracted by Danny approaching the team.

“Kristogar. Can you arrange some transport for Mr Redpatch to the nearest town? He says he knows the local numbers,” Danny asked. Velo nodded and got up to go help Mr Redpatch. Danny sat down next to Chance.

“You say you had a run in with these Omicron guys…” Danny began.

“Yeah. A few of them,” Chance replied. Danny nodded.

“Did you guys find anything?” Danny asked.

“Uh… I saw part of a map. Omicron have it now, but I saw it,” Chance explained.

“Part of a map?” Danny asked.

“Yeah. It looked like it was only half of it.”

Danny nodded again, as if a realisation had suddenly hit him.

“What is it?” Chance asked.

“Omicron found something at Netzel’s tomb in Berlin. We didn’t know what it was, but now I think I can make an educated guess…” Danny said.

“The other half of the map?” Chance said.

“Right.”

High above the Atlantic ocean, four members of Project Omicron were on their way to Brazil to rendesvous with the rest of their team. Rose sat in the window seat, looking out the water below her. Next to her sat The Sheik trying to look as inconspicuous as he could. Next to him, on the aisle seat, was Mimic. He had the map in his hand and a laptop computer on his lap.

Pneuma sat a few rows behind them.

“Damn it… I can’t get a signal,” Mimic said out loud.

“A signal for what?” The Sheik asked, turning to face his companion.

“I’m trying to send a scanned image of the map to Johnny. But I can’t get a signal.”

“They are in the midst of the rainforest in Brazil. I would have anticipated difficulty in making electronic contact.”

“But Xyber is with them.”

“She may be busy. Or weakened,” The Sheik said, turning to face forward.

“Damn it. We’ll have to wait until we get there to deliver it in person. Unite the two halves of the map, and make our way to the lost city to find our book…” Mimic asked.

The Sheik just nodded, then politely raised his hand to request more peanuts.

Back by the river, Danny stood up, assessing the situation.

Behind them, the rainforest stretched upwards. It was going to be hard, but not impossible, to make their way through. To the east was where Chance’s team had come from. To the west lay the border with Peru, and their goal.
Their mode of transport was now unavailable. But Mxy was here, which may serve to help the cause. They had a rough knowledge of half a map, whereas Omicron possessed the full map itself.
However, half of Omicron were still en route. Which meant that there was a few hours before they arrived, united the two halves of the map, and began their quest for the book. A few hours that Danny and his team may be able to take advantage of, even though they had less knowledge of exactly where to look.

The race was going to be close. Danny knew that much.

[ 03-26-2003, 07:09 PM: Message edited by: Danny ]

Grissom Montag had landed his private F-22 Raptor (which he nicknamed 'The Dust Devil') at the New Orleans Regional Airport almost forty-five minutes ago. After running a few check-outs with airport security and renting a hangar, he was able to get a good look at some of Gambini's goons. It was hard to miss them, really.

The two large gentlemen standing in the terminal receiving from La Perdita with oily hair and pinstripe suits, looking obviously at pictures and comparing them to the passengers coming off the plane. He kept his head down as he made his way to the airport bar to hit on the pretty waitress...

Which is where he sat now, downing his second "hellfire and damnation" and trying his absolute best to wow the waitress with his rapier wit and boyish charm.

"How 'bout another?" Griss asked, winking at the cute blonde standing behind the counter.

"Wow, man," the waitress whistled, readying the ingredients again, "I've never seen anyone drink down a 'hellfire' like that and keep coming back for more!"

Griss smiled and rolled his eyes. "Well, it's not all that bad. What's in 'em anyway?"

"Equal parts tequila, vodka, scotch, OJ, and tabasco," the girl rattled off, pouring the contents of a bottle into a shotglass.

"Well, it may be a bit warm," Griss started, "but hot as it is, it can't hold a candle to you."

The girl smiled and replaced the bottle, producing a new one. "I hope you don't plan to get anywhere with a line that bad..." she said, winking at Grissom.

"Not really," Grissom said, shrugging his shoulders and putting a fifty on the counter. "However, in the event that you should change your mind, feel more than free to give me a call."

The woman put a splash of tabasco in the glass and eyed the fifty. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that? Did you write your number on President Grant?"

"Waitaminute," Grissom said, reaching slowly behind the girl's ear. "Looks like you've got something hidden back here."

As he began to pull his hand away, one of his business cards materialized in his hands. On the front it read, "Grissom Montag: Sandcrawler Security, while his mobile number had been scribbled on the back.

"There you go," Grissom said, slipping the card between her fingers and picking up the shotglass. "Wouldn't want you to run off without it...." With that, he winked at the waitress, downed his third 'hellfire and damnation' and made his way toward the rental place, still as sober as he could be.

The bartender smiled as she eyed the phone number on the back of the card. "You're not anything special, Montag," she said, putting the number in her pocket. "But why do I feel like I should give you a call tonight?"

It wasn't New York, but an American metropolis was still an American metropolis. After only two hours of roaming the Big Easy, Phil had managed to rent an SUV, locate the storefront that was his objective, get ammunition for his .44, take a break at Starbucks', and even buy a new suit. He was currently driving around downtown, waiting for Grissom to contact him.

"Come on, Griss," the telepath breathed, "where are you?" He switched on his earpiece. "Griss, you there?"

"'Bout bloody time," the mercenary replied. "Didn't see you get off the plane."

"Hopefully no one else did either," Phil said. "I was waiting for you to call."

"I was supposed to call you?" Grissom thought a moment. "Slipped my mind, I suppose. But you're here now, so let's think this over."

"Have you located your target site?" Phil asked.

"I'm sitting on a park bench across the street from it," Grissom replied. "Meatheaded buggers don't give too much thought to establishing a perimeter, do they?"

"I didn't notice much of one around my site, either," Phil confirmed. "Which means they're probably all inside."

"Taking shifts on guard duty," Grissom added. "They'll probably switch 'em every few hours."

"I think I want to do a little more recon before we go in," Phil said. "'Every few hours' isn't quite precise enough for what we want to do."

"I'm getting my recon in now," Grissom said. "Get to your site and call me when you figure things out."

"All right," Phil agreed. "On my way."

"And be careful out there, mate," Grissom added.

"You too," Phil replied as he switched off his earpiece and turned left toward the storefront.

This is not going the way we had planned...

The zombies all but forgotten, Vengeance turned towards the sound of his iron steed approaching him.

"Let's see how you like this, you dead sonofabitch!"

Focusing his thoughts, he commanded the bike to stop, and stop it did, throwing Grimm over the handlebars.

"You bastard, you're going to pay for that!"

Dusting himself off, Grimm picked up his axe and took off running towards Vengeance.


"You realize they're going to kill one another, don't you?"

"They won't...yet. Just watch..."

The diner was wrapping up dinner hour, and a few patrons - short-haul truckers, construction workers, and the odd business commuter - still lingered. Some swapped small talk over a beer while others skimmed through the daily paper hoping to find something positive for once. A few people were feeding the jukebox a steady diet of quarters and singing and dancing to whatever tune floated out.

Phil walked in and had a seat by a plate-glass window, through which he could see his objective across the street. The storefront was a bit older than the buildings around it, and a few of the shops were closed and boarded up. There was a row of apartments above the shops, and Phil figured that Mrs. Piper and Latisha, Kit's youngest daughter, were probably in one of those apartments. The trouble was that even though it was a bit run down, the storefront was still in a visible area relatively close to downtown. That would make it difficult to do anything without either someone seeing him from inside the building or a bystander noticing that something was up.

What to do?

"Griss, you there?"

The earpiece crackled. "Yeah, mate. What's goin' on?"

"I'm across the street from it," Phil said, "but I'm not sure how I'm gonna get in without anyone noticing." He looked around. "It's right near the downtown area, with streets on three sides, plenty of windows, and a fair amount of traffic around the place." He paused. "We're gonna have to wait until it starts to get dark."

"You sure?" Grissom sounded a bit impatient. "I can be in and out without too much trouble."

"But what if they have communication between the two sites?" Phil argued. "If you go in right away, they could sound the alarm, and there'd be no way for me to get in. Hell, they might just start shooting the hostages." Phil looked around again to make sure nobody was listening. "We gotta synchronize this down to the second."

"I have been doing this for a while, you know."

Phil sighed. "Griss, neither of us is much of a team player when we're in our element. But this is different. We're gonna have to trust each other on this one, man." He paused. "What do you think?"

"I think we should do what we can to keep them from talking to each other," Grissom said. "If one of us cuts a phone line at just one of the places, then the other can jam the cell phones at the other place, and... no communication."

"You did give me a static box," Phil recalled, referring to the multi-frequency white-noise generator Grissom had brought along 'just in case.'

"Then I guess I'm the lucky one who gets to cut the phone line," Grissom said.

"We'll still have to time it pretty well," Phil said. "Once they realize that they've lost their avenues of communication, they'll know something's up. We've got to work fast." Phil looked out the window. "What the hell...?"

Four police cars were pulling up around the storefront across the street.

"What?" Grissom asked. "What's going on?"

Phil got up and headed for the door. "I'll get back to you."