Mr_Grey

"...She's the only one to see me... As I wish I was..."

Sheldon quirked an eyebrow at that. The Clockwork King was obviously delusional.

"You... You have a crush?"

"Something like that," the King sighed, which was a horrible, grating sound from his voice emitters, "It's just so hard to have a real... Friend. You know, one that you didn't build yourself?"

Sheldon nodded. Sometimes, social inadequacy made for some of the worst deviant behavior. In this case, it had driven the King to make his bizarre machinations. He would have continued in his work, day in, day out, if he hadn't met the young girl psychic.

If he hadn't fallen in some sort of love.

"I still don't see what this has to do with me," Wallace intoned as he cleared a pile of wreckage with a wave of his hand so he could sit down, "All you've said is you want to have a girlfriend."

"You need to see? Look at me, inventor. Look at the abomination I have become."

"I see it," Sheldon was cross-legged; he pulled a stick of gum from a package in his coat pocket and started to chew, "But you've looked like this for a long time. Now, Cee Kay, if I were to put two and two together and take a wild stab at this, I'd say you want me to help you build a new body."

"Exactly. I knew you wouldn't disappoint me, Sheldon."

"One so you could be more... Refined... For her."

"Indeed."

Sheldon pulled the wad of gum out of his mouth and packed it back into its paper. He then pulled his shades off and wiped them clean before putting them back on.

"I can't," he finally answered.

"You won't," the Clockwork King corrected, "You refuse to help me and I will have to find another to construct my new body."

"You can't kill me," Sheldon replied with a shrug, "And you know that if I report this, it will bring more heroes down on your head."

"Indeed... And there's no possible way I can properly keep you imprisoned... However..."

"What?" Sheldon didn't like the tone in the King's voice, "What have you got for me?"

"Well, for one, it's a challenge. The body I want will have to be powerful enough to stand up to any hero or villain, much like a tanker hero. Plus, I want it to still be decidedly Clockwork. I must still look reasonably human, and... I want to fly..."

"That explains why you haven't just made a deal with Nemesis to use one of his automatons..."

"I would never deal with that lunatic!" the King was definitely angry at that, "Despite what you capes believe, we rogues don't work well together..."

"Conflicting ideologies and all that," Sheldon smirked, "Not to mention that you all seem to want it all for yourselves..."

"Again, you presume to know more than you actually do."

"Regardless of the challenge, your highness, I simply cannot help you. Freedom Corps is already investigating me in a number of different ways to determine whether or not I'm a mad scientist... They think I'm like Aeon or something..."

"I know. That was part of why I chose you... I thought you'd be up to the challenge."

"It is intriguing," Sheldon started to pick himself up to walk away, "But I simply have no choice but to refuse."

"Then I have no choice but to cut off your hands," the King replied just as calmly, but there were still hints of anger, indicating he was mocking the young hero.

"Cut off my hands..." Sheldon wasn't asking about it, he knew the why.

The Clockwork King, however, misunderstood, "You'd be stuck here, handless, and worry not, for my minions will cauterize your stumps so you don't die... And they can never be replaced."

"That's a serious promise," Wallace muttered.

"Promise?"

"The difference between a threat and a promise is that most people don't carry out their threats. They opt for something lesser instead of visiting the harm they implied would happen if the subject refused. You, however, you have no such qualms. What remains of your humanity isn't reserved for ones like me."

"Indeed."

"So when you said you'd cut my hands off, you were making a promise.""

"Right. I get it, now," the Clockwork King's eyes rocked from side to side, "How strange that you grasped it so quickly... You're an exacting man..."

"I try," Sheldon sighed, "Alright... You've sufficiently intrigued and promised me grave bodily harm. There is no doubt that cutting off my hands will hinder me for some time."

"Hinder?" the King asked incredulously.

"Only a dead man can truly do nothing in this world, and the mediporters keep that from happening for the most part. Heck, look at you, and you're just a brain in a jar."

"Hm... Touche..."

"In any case, I'm rather attached to my hands. I'm familiar with them, happy with them... They do good work. So... I'll help you build this new body. To avoid losing my hands, of course."

"Excellent," the King laughed happily, another grating sound no better than the sigh from earlier.

The laugh was echoed by his machines. His elation had caused his delusion of their autonomous nature to slip. Sheldon frowned at that. the sound didn't get any better from all those little stereo speakers laughing. He sighed.

"I'm in an exceptional amount of trouble."

It had started innocently enough. Sheldon was busy strolling through Steel Canyon. He had some business to conduct in the Wentworth's Consigmment House, and he wasn't really paying attention as he scribbled furiously on his datapad.

Freedom Corps had OK'd the Ryat program for public use, but he had to sign all of the release forms. Each form required multiple signatures, too.

Fortunately, he didn't need to scribble anything for Ryat84. The android had gone rogue toward the end of the Praetorian Invasion. During the sweep of Skyway City, it became readily apparent as the android utilized a nanite gravity control similar to Wallace's and an energy assault similar to Ryat66's to actually kill some Praetorians. Not only that, but he was obviously torturing the organic Praetorian forces, too.

Somehow, the android had developed an intolerance to humans and other biological lifeforms. After the conflict, he somehow escaped to the Rogue Isles by hopping on a helicopter to Bloody Bay using his temporary Hero ID. From there, the Gods knew what his plans were.

"Probably build an army and work to eradicate all of humanity," Sheldon muttered as he scrawled across another form that blipped up on his datapad.

That was when the first Clockwork Cog started following him. He didn't notice at first, but when he emerged from Wentworth's grumbling about the prices of salvage on the market, he saw it. It was peculiar to see, the little machine looking up at him.

Most Clockwork machines were deceptively small. Many were actually roughly the size of an average human being. But because they were so thing, and so many of them were hip-tall or even knee-tall, most people thought of them all as small. Nobody made that mistake about the Prince-class robots, but they were another story anyway.

"Can I help you?" Shel asked after he realized the robot was following him.

It just followed silently while he continued on his way. He wasn't worried. The Clockwork had stopped being a serious threat to the Grey's Army inventor a long time ago. He'd deciphered the secrets behind their electricity generation, but not their actual working parts.

Frankly, there was more than enough power actually being generated to actually run the little automatons, but their heads had virtually no circuitry. Most people assumed that the Clockwork King was such a genius, he'd learned how to make an alternate form of Artifical Intelligence. Sheldon, as well as other heroes, had learned the truth of the matter was that he was just a powerful psychic, and that he simply willed his machines to work.

"Doesn't stop you guys from holding together after the link is broken, huh?" he asked as a couple more joined the first that had been following him.

Sheldon had found a park bench overlooking the Silver Lake, and tossing aside the Tsoo ninjas in his way, he sat down to relax while he worked. The Clockwork didn't leave. They just sat there, watching Wallace while he worked.

As he neared the end of the list, the inventor realized something was off. There was a kind of white noise permeating the environment. When he looked up to see what it was, he would have jumped from surprise if a part of him weren't saying how he should have realized it beforehand.

Hundreds of Clockwork were standing in the street. Citizens were running away, terrified. Police were trying to reroute traffic. Heroes were trying to figure out how to handle the situation.

Sheldon looked at his datapad and keyed it to analyze the robots. He cursed because he should have done it earlier. The Clockwork, all of them, even the first one he saw, were all rated as level fifty.

"Oh..." he said calmly, "Damn."

"Mr. Wallace," the first Cog suddenly said in a tinny mechanical voice, "It would behoove you to come along with us, quietly and without struggle."

"Why for?" he asked, "I believe I'm entitled to knowing the reason why I'm being incarcerated. I mean, we heroes offer the same courtesy to the thugs we arrest every day... Or, we would if they didn't tell us up front what they're doing against the law..."

"You have been invited to the King's Court, at the behest of His Highness Himself."

"I see," Sheldon turned to his datapad, then looked up at the Clockwork, "Well, I have some work I need to finish up here... It won't take me anymore than five minutes. In that time, you can clear out the entourage. I only need one of you to lead me to your King."

"That is unacceptable," the Cog said mechanically, but oddly sounded menacing, "The King was quite insistent..."

"No," Sheldon replied, "And don't test me. Most of my own creations are now free to roam as they please, and if they learn that you harmed even one hair on my head, I can assure you that they are more than a match for even this powerful lot you've assembled here. I'm certain your King can utilize some degree of patience when compared to the time it will take to rebuild all of you and the forces my androids are sure to decimate in their search for me. Lord knows, a lot of them have been itching for a rematch."

The robots looked to each other as Sheldon continued scribbling into his datapad. After a couple minutes, the collection started walking north to Boomtown. The first Cog waited patiently and jsut as Sheldon said, not five minutes had passed since he had started getting back to writing before he stood, shut down the datapad, and shook his hand of the slight cramp it had developed.

"Red tape," he sighed, "It is some nasty stuff. Lead the way, young Cog."

"How do you know my age?"

"You still have scratches from new construction."

"Interesting."

As they walked into and through Boomtown, Sheldon explained how he had worked hard since arriving in the city to understand the intricacies of the city's robotic minions. One of the first he dealt with was the Clockwork, to which he actually applied some of their electric power systems into his own androids.

"We know," the Cog replied, "The King was very distressed that you'd utilized something he designed in your work."

"I know. It took me a couple weeks to repair the damage he'd done to my androids. So... What makes him want to talk to me now?"

"That is not for me to say."

Sheldon kept from mentioning how the Cog actually was the Clockwork King. Such a concept was beyond the self-appointed monarch, as he was under the delusional belief that he had successfully built autonomous robots. They should have all died when he did before.

It made Sheldon wonder at who had put the King's brain in that machine he walked around in. Of course, maybe they only had to put it in the jar of fluid...

The Cog brought Sheldon to a small building buried in the rubble. The inventor knew this was just a cover. Underneath the debris would be a massive warren, complete with a small factory for the King to build his court. There would be wreckage everywhere, and at any moment, it could all rise up and attack him.

Of course, that was true of just about everywhere in this City, especially in Boomtown.

"Well, no time to waste. May as well see what your King wants..."

-----------

The Court didn't disappoint the inventor. It was just like the time he raided one. Of course, the Zig couldn't hold the King for some odd reason... There were plenty of times where he'd been arrested multiple times in the same day by lots of different heroes.

Heck, Ryat66 had helped arrest him an hour after Sheldon did.

Of course, as of late, the King had been quiet. Some of his plans were still running, but they mostly lacked the "oomph" that caused heroes to go chasing after him.

"Greetings, sir," Sheldon bowed to the Clockwork King, a simple bow from the waist, much in keeping with Japanese fashion, "For now, my lord, as I am a guest within you house."

"Uh..." the Clockwork King's eyes actually shifted from side to side as he tried to decipher what Sheldon was on about, "Right..."

"To what do I owe this honor?" Wallace was chuckling inwardly.

Despite calling himself the Clockwork King, the psychic hardly fit the billet of a royal monarch. Like most of the lesser villains of the city, he was pretty much just playing at mastermind, not really taking his role seriously. His efforts also strongly indicated he'd much rather just be building more robots.

How unfortunate that eh often just let them run amok like Paladin or Babbage.

"Sheldon Wallace," the twisted hulk bent forward so as the eyes could get closer to the hero, "I have a task for you."

"You? Have a task for me?"

"Yes. But I know it is one you will outright refuse unless I tell you the circumstances behind the request."

"I see..." Sheldon arched an eyebrow at the brain, "Well, time is money, experience, and influence. I suppose you should get talking."

"Ah..." the Clockwork King was glad Sheldon was being so prompt, "Well, to begin, let me tell you about a young girl named Penelope Yin..."

--Jade Moon--

Randall grinned at Acid.

"What? Dino ((pronounced Dee-no)) was a lovable character..."

His grin became a self-deprecating smirk.

"Okay... Acid, right? I gotcha."

----------

--Portal Corp Courtyard--

((Matt and Cory are en route))

Sheldon removed his glasses, revealing perfectly normal brown eyes. He handed the shades to Unai Kemen.

"These are keyed to read many kinds of hidden threats, and I also had them designed to read various forms of energy so I could discern what would best power my nanotechnological gravity manipulators. Apparently, I could see this... Energy as well. I believe it would be best if you were utilizing the glasses for now so as to better coordinate the efforts of your men. Sixty-six should be able to work with the targeting information I transmitted to him."

"Yes, sir!" the android replied, now turning to the energy caught in his electrical field, "Huh... That's funny looking."

"Indeed," Sheldon agreed as he raised his gauntlet at the cage and fired another burst of gravity nanites to hold the offender in place, "I sure hope that hit. It would be a shame if the Nullifiers here had to find out if their draining technology worked on what appears to be sentient energy."

((We moved on, and since the two Heavies have torn through much of the base, it didn't take us long to find the locked door...))

Martin pulled Klaus and Energon X away from the opening. Bullets whizzed past and he could have sworn he felt one hit his leg. Good thing the adrenaline rushing through his veins dampened the pain.

"Holy crap!" he shouted as he tried to push himself off the ground, "That's so much flying metal a fly can't get through! I don't think we're getting through there..."

((We really should've waited for Diov's post...))

At first, it looked like another dead-end. It looked to be the same kind of facility as any other clandestine Crey facility. It was the same kind of place that the Crey corporation could attribute plausible deniability to.

At first, Kip was unimpressed. Not with Mynx's fighting skills. Indeed, she was still one of the best. She still tore into the security guards like a woman possessed. No, he was largely unimpressed with the mundaneness of the facility, how it was the same cold steel as most others. Then they got a few levels down.

It looked like a Revenant Project facility. Kip was aware of what the Paragon Protectors were, just as a large number of heroes did (and others suspected). However, he'd never actually seen a facility where the process took place.

This particular facility seemed to fit the bill, all the way up to the moment when Kip kicked a security guard into a glass tube and caused it to shatter. A body rolled out. A familiar body.

"What the Hell?" Kip muttered as he looked down at his own corpse, "A clone? Of me?"

Mynx was shocked as well.

"Oh, Kippers... That's just... That's just wrong..."

"It's dead," Durj replied glumly, then turned to the tube's monitoring system, "According to this, it died long before I shattered the tube... In testing... Something was missing."

"Missing?" Mynx asked quizzically.

"Yeah... I wonder what was missing." his soul half-chuckled in the back of Kip's head, "It must be hard to clone gusto and gumption like mine. According to the readout, this thing says that it met with the same failure the first one did. They all lack what makes me unique..."

"My soul," Kip muttered gravely, "They can't copy my soul."

"What are you talking about?" Mynx intoned as she looked over his shoulder, "It looks like they all died during... Structural Integrity tests... Ew..."

"Essentially, they shot them. All of them. Physically, they were exact duplicates of me. Ninety eight percent accuracy or above, a couple even made a hundred. Spiritually, however..."

"Does that matter?"

"Magic does play a role in this world, Mynx," Kip replied, "I know that well. On top of that, there's what defines a hero, and it's not just their powers. I used to get the tar kicked out of me in this city... But I never gave up."

He looked into her eyes, determination forcing the tendrils wafting from his eyelids to glow brighter.

"Not once."

"Some would argue otherwise," she replied, "I read your report on that... Obsidian Blight..."

"What an odd thing to say..." his soul mused.

"Falling asleep to physical fatigue is hardly giving up."

Mynx bit her lower lip, realizing she had insulted him, and turned down the hall. Her fur bristled suddenly, and she whirled back to Kip.

"What if you're not the only one they cloned? What if there are more heroes being copied here?"

The other scrapper nodded once and they were running down the corridors, kicking the tar out of anything that got in their way. All the while, Kip was left with one burning question.

Why did they clone me?

He understood why they sent him back out among the heroes. They couldn't get a working clone in... Days? Had they really gotten that far in their research?

He figured it had something to do with Rikti technology. Perhaps that and a blend of Doctor Vahzilok's twisted surgical procedures and Nemesis's mind transfer technology. Heck, maybe they were able to get all the memories they needed from an MRI.

Everywhere they went, they found the clones of other heroes. Some were malformed, as they were developed from the trace DNA Crey operatives were able to recover. Others were near-exact duplicates (if not spot-on copies), complete with powers. At least, they would have been nearly perfect, if it weren't for the injuries they'd sustained. Broken or missing limbs, scarring, wounds that would never heal... Nearly all of them were dead. The kinds of tests the readouts described were bonechilling to say the least.

Still curious as to the full nature of the crime, Kip and Mynx pressed on. Eventually, they found a room that was different from the others. It was circular, and wide open. In the center was a column of stasis tubes, many of which were occupied. A Paragon Protector defended it (or rather, tried to destroy the evidence), but Kip's foot to the back of its head smashed the visor open on the railing and broke the Protector's nose. The system that monitored Protector behavior registered the defeat and activated the Protector's killswitch.

Mynx winced at the Protector's sudden spasm and collapse. Kip was already examining the tubes. The catgirl made a derisive snort at the other hero's uncompromising efficiency.

"Hey, the faster we get this figured out and get word to the populace, the faster we can put this crazy ordeal behind us..." Durj winced suddenly, "...And... Maybe move on with our lives..."

Mynx smiled at that and her tail twitched a little. Outwardly, kip grinned, but inside, he shuddered a little. A part of him still felt something was wrong.

"Maybe you just never thought you'd like a catgirl." his soul chided.

"I'll tell ya what I never thought would happen before," Kip replied, "I never thought I'd have to listen to you sound like Cedric..."

Not wanting to deal with the thoughts in the back of his head anymore, Kip turned himself to the task at hand, the Stasis Tubes. Each tube had a monitor attached to it, just like the clone tubes, and Kip could get a clear story about each hero, and even a few rogues (Interesting...), inside. There were a couple Praetorians, some Rikti, but mostly just low-key heroes and rogues...

Just like him.

Most of them were types that could be classified as "lite" versions of more prominent heroes. Some would even argue that Kip was "Ms. Liberty lite," though that would tick him off something fierce, but it would explain why Crey tried to put him in this facility... If they could get to the core of what stopped the lesser heroes, they could use the knowledge to stop the major ones.

Of course, Kip realized such a notion was ludicrous. No two heroes were actually alike. Nobody got their powers from the same source. Even Randall, whom Kip suspected got his powers from a similar source as himself, had different circumstances from his fellow "Kingdale Warden."

So far, all the villain groups had to work with was pouring drums of bullets and pumping energy blasts at them. That, or their own inherent powers, which were largely lax unless it was one of the mystical groups like the Circle of Thorns or the Carnival of Shadows.

Kip found one that made his skin crawl, however. It wasn't his tube. He'd seen his, and it was empty. This one... This one he activated and opened upon finding.

"Well... There's your answer," he soul chuckled again.

Mynx walked up behind him as the body fell out and Kip told her to get a Protector uniform for her.

"Who is she?"

"Evidence," Kip replied, "Perfect evidence."

The Vindicator quirked an eyebrow at him, but left to comply.

"Don't you fall in love on me!" she shouted back at him.

Kip narrowed his eyes at her back, but got straight back to work. Placing the young girl's arms for modesty, Kip examined the body. There was still a chance that this was all a trick.

Until he saw the scars.

Almost every hero and rogue on the planet had a modicum of regenerative capability. It was what kept them in "pristine" condition and able to go on from fight to fight. Some damage left scars, but they often faded fast from the Regenerator cartridges that supplemented anybody who wasn't a regenerator.

Old scars, like Psycho13 mentioned, scars from before being a hero, scars like this woman's appendectomy scar and the tiny one on her chin that could have come from any number of childhood accidents... Those weren't fixed by Regenerator or Regeneration super powers.

Kip even had a few nicks and tears on his body. He'd have never thought about it before, though...

The girl coughed, then looked up at him. Katherine Stevens' eyes narrowed and she let loose a hiss.

"It's a pleasure to see you, too," Kip intoned back, "Don't move just yet, some clothes are on the... She's behind me, isn't she?"

Project Invader. Placing cloned heroes in positions to keep an eye on other heroes. Sometimes, those clones would wind up being used to commit atrocious acts. All they needed was the right trigger. Discovery of their duplicity often worked.

Of course, such a problem was usually handled by keeping the original under wraps. Normally, all Crey would have to do is kill the original subject, but if they're conducting experiments on the clones, or need them for leverage, then they're more likely to keep them around in a clandestine facility like this.

It would all work so well except for one thing. It took days to clone a subject... It took time that needed to be explained.

"That's what I was," Kip intoned as he stood and turned to the Mynx clone that had been calling herself his girlfriend for the past week, "A cover."

"It didn't have to be this way," she hissed back, "You could've been a good little boy... It could've been fun."

Not like Bobcat, that's for sure. Bobcat cut first, made offers later. No... This clone was definitely a byproduct of an offshoot of the Revenant Hero project, complete with its own indoctrination program.

"Well, I guess now it's time to fight," Kip growled as he started to sidestep away from the real Mynx, "I'm warning you now, this is going to hurt. Badly."

"You'd hit a woman?" the clone asked dubiously.

"It wouldn't be the first time, and once again, we come to my definition of a hero. Only now, you get the unabridged version. A simple [frick]ing rule... Don't [frig] with me! When you do, I [frig] with you! Simple as that! You [frig] with the people I care about, I [frig] with you! Again, simple!"

The clone lunged at him. He caught her in the air and used her momentum to toss her over his head. C-Mynx vaulted herself over a rail and landed on her feet. Whirling around at him, she popped out her claws and charged again. This time, Kip met her with a driving kick to the solar plexus.

C-Mynx twirled around his foot, deflecting most of the impact and raked her claws across his face. Or she would have, had Kip's ghostly aura not intervened. Not allowing for any time to make a mistake, Kip caught C-Mynx by her shoudlers and pulled her body into his knee (again, aimed for her solar plexus).

The impact caused the clone to go sprawling, and she rolled across the floor with a yelp. Kip followed her with laser beams from his eyes, but they just heated the floor. C-Mynx, in the meantime, caught a hold of another rail, hoisted herself up on it (further avoiding Kip's energy assault) and leaped at Kip again. The young hero was committed to his attack though, and as the energy beams powered down, she dove behind him, raking his back with her claws.

"Agh!" Kip grunted as he rolled away and rounded on C-Mynx, "That freaking hurt!"

"I thought you were invincible," the girl chuckled back.

"No... his soul suddenly emerged from his body and spoke to her, "I just think I'm ugly enough."

"What the?" was all C-Mynx could get out before Kip redoubled his efforts with a flying double knee.

She avoided it, but Kip's landing was surprisingly sturdy, and he came back with a low spin kick to take her legs out from under her. C-Mynx caught herself and was in the hand-stand portion of vaulting herself away when Kip hopped back up, spinning, and kicked her in the spine.

The clone crumpled to the floor and he marched after it. As C-Mynx started to push herself up, Kip wrapped his arm around her neck and put her in a sleeper hold. He held it for a count of ten and relaxed his grip.

"That was brutal," Mynx muttered at him, "Do you mind finding me something to wear, now?"

Kip stood and started heading toward her, "Well, I've got my jacket... That could help."

He heard C-Mynx scrambling to attack him. As decent as his aura was at protecting him, it likely wouldn't help too much if he got skewered in the spine, so he whirled around. C-Mynx was closer than he thought, so he was left with one option. Catching her outstretched wrists, he rolled backwards and planted his foot in her belly. A slight push, and she was sent hurtling through the air where she crashed into an empty Stasis Tube.

Ironically, it was Kip's former Stasis Tube.

The clone rolled out, unconscious. It was finally over. When Kip went to tag the clone, however, C-Mynx did something unexpected. She spasmed violently, arched her back, and let out a small whimper. Her eyes searched for him, found him, and he saw the hate reflected there.

"You..." she hissed, "Wretched... Fool..."

Gurgling, C-Mynx died from the killswitch command. Kip shook his head dismissively as he put the tag back in its dispenser.

"Shoulda' told me you loved me," he grumbled, "Woulda' hurt more."

"Who the Hell was she? Why, the [frig], was she wearing my outfit?" Mynx asked derisively, "And what's going on?"

"I'll explain later..." Kip grunted as he stepped over to her, his eyes downcast, "For now, let's get you something to wear..."

----------

It was over. Kip and Mynx (wearing a Crey security guard's outfit) arrived at the Vindicators headquarters around midnight. Mynx almost immediately disappeared (presumably to find a more comfortable outfit), and Kip again explained what happened to Malaise (the only Vindicator on duty at that moment).

The psychic nodded to the whole story. He never questioned the scrapper once and smiled when Kip explained when he figured the whole thing out.

"It's difficult for anybody to seed spies within our ranks," Malaise finally commented as Kip finished, "What with all the psychics we have around..."

Kip glared at the former villain.

"You knew, didn't you?" he shouted.

"Not so loud," Malaise replied, "Luminary may be like a computer and shut herself down, but she still has alert systems to 'wake up' in an emergency... And she needs her rest after what we had to do today."

"Which was?"

"Costume contest in Pocket D," Malaise replied happily, then looked worried, like he shouldn't have said that, "I mean... Mech Men... Breaking lots and lots of Mech Men."

Kip just shook his head.

"Look," Malaise pulled Kip outside and spoke in hushed tones, "I respect my fellow heroes and heroines, I really do. It's also against the law for any psychic to invade somebody's mind... But..."

"But you did it to Mynx," Kip finished.

"Well, yeah... She'd been gone for so long, and there was just something about her story... Plus..." Malaise rolled his eyes and frowned, "I... I care about her."

"I see..." Kip replied, "You were looking to see if the relationship was real."

"It was a lapse in judgment and restraint," Malaise admitted, "But I knew the reality of the situation afterward. I was trying to figure out how to tell somebody, and was about to wake up Lumie when you two arrived."

"She wouldn't have judged you too harshly, huh?"

"Right."

"Well... I need sleep," Kip grumbled, "Tell Mynx I said goodbye... I just can't stick around anymore, my adrenaline's wearing out and my eyelids are heavy."

"You could stay here," Malaise offered, "tell the others what happened."

"Nah, I'll just write it up in my report tomorrow. Inquiring minds can read about it then."

Malaise frowned, but nodded. He could feel Kipland's displeasure at even being near the Vindicator base.

"Well, thank you," Malaise replied, "From her. I could feel her relief at being home. While I don't doubt that she'd eventually find her way here anyway, it helps that you made it all the more expedient."

"Cool, whatever..."

"Well..." Kip said hollowly.

"That was disheartening," Psycho13 finished.

((My apologies there, Chamelion. That was entirely my bad. Edits on the waaaaaaay...))

((Martin wasn't looking when the whole conflict started. I gotta work with limited knowledge, especially the fact that he's in an aggressive emotional state where he wants to get moving before irreversible damage is done. To do that, he has to bark and shout and ignore hurt feelings.

It's odd that this is the character I have that's the heaviest into a military mindset. Even Gregory Caid and Cedric Grey (huh, first time I noticed their initials were inverses of each other) have aloof tendencies. Of course, Martin's always had to take life a whole lot more seriously than either of them...))

Sanders' hand swung out and swatted Klaus in the neck as the doctor tried to pass. It wasn't meant to hurt, but it did illustrate the point that Martin wasn't about to take any nonsense.

"We're not giving our positions away, Bad Doc. I don't want you doing it either."

--Jade Moon--

Randall grunted in agreement.

"Well, I guess I better be the one to make the call to Lady Grey, then," he took up his communicator, then frowned at it.

It looked and smelled like molten plastic.

"Ah, dammit... The fight with the Warhorse must have fragged my communicator!"

He looked over the devices at his hip. They were somewhat damaged as well, but only their casings. The switches, dials, and most important, the internal workings, were still intact.

"I should've known about this earlier, but I figured you'd be able to talk quieter earlier, Toy Dispenser, when it was somewhat necessary to be stealthy. Now I gotta rely on you for communication... At least until I can get a spare phone."

"Frickin' technology. Always crappin' out on me!"

"So quick to take on the Fear Engine," the Ref countered, "Well, I hope your confidence pays off in the end. I was threatened personally by that freak, and I can tell you, the next time I see him will be too soon. I would die happy if I never saw him again."

"Nazis were the old regime," Martin replied, "Mired with bigots and other closed minded fools. Now they're just terrorists trying to conquer the nation by starting with Paragon. Still fascist, though. I should know, my sometime partner was so deep undercover, he made it to Archon. He's got some freaky stories about what they're like nowadays."

The sudden lurching caused the pilot to shout a number of curses and obscenities into the intercom before it was cut off. He looked back to the two figures and his brow furrowed over his sunglasses.

"Strange, what do the cops got to do with this?"

"Steel! We got room for more?"

"Yes," the Mastermind replied curtly, "Barely, it would seem..."

Mr. Kolt opened the hatch and held his arm out to Briggs with a friendly grin.

"Not on my watch, Mr. Kolt," Steel muttered, "You can fraternize when it's your time. Now, I need you to stay alert. Capiche?"

Kolt's smile faded.

"Good," the mastermind intoned.

When Briggs boarded, he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"You seem new... Perhaps you've never heard of this individual, Poe..."

After Horowitz climbed aboard and the hatch was closed, there was a rattling on the side of the ship again.

"It's Kip!" Solo's voice issued form the intercom.

"Let him chase us!" the Referee shouted back.

The dropship lurched forward. Outside, the scrapper was shouting angrily, mostly cursing Solo Stryker. He was, however, chasing after them. Suddenly, the vehicle lurched to a stop, and there was a loud slamming sound. Laughing, the Referee went to the back of the ship to open one of the cargo bays and let the loud scrapper in.

"You sons of... You think I'm going to let you guys take that lunatic down without me? I've got a serious bone to pick with him!"

"You don't even know who he is," Steel countered.

"And you do?"

"Actually, yes. Though the Ref here can better attest to the individual's... Tenacity and capabilities."

"He's the stuff that nightmares are made of," the Referee admitted as he stoically went back to work.

Martin's glare didn't falter.

"No! A plan most certainly has NOT been formed! One guy goes nuts and threatens to kill us all... THIS guy blows a hole in the door, allowing the freak to tear off without answering to STABBING ME! Now, you guys freak out and start fighting each other while another heavy rushes down to join the freak! Tell me! How in the [frig] were we supposed to plan? YOU!"

He pointed at Klaus.

"I don't know you! Weird Clockwork? Yeah. We've been dealing with it, too. Join the party. Of course, you introduced yourself with a big explosion and told us those nasty buggers were headed our way. Then, when Brutish here jumped up to you, you fired. Can't say I blame ya for that, seeing as how scary ugly the guy is, but you could have at least come off as nonthreatening, instead of unleashing an arsenal on us. Your headache is your own fault. As for why we're here, we jumped and flew and whatever overland, not through the twisting passageways. Good enough?"

He didn't wait for an answer, just turned back for the door to the Council base and started marching.

"Plan! We go in there right now and use the freak's assault as a distraction to find the City Rep. Hopefully, they haven't detonated her or shot her or whatever like you hinted at, Ex. Let's move."

--Portal Corp. Courtyard--

"Einstein? No," Wallace waved the notion off dismissively, "He was a genius who carefully weighed the ramifications of his research. He happened to have lived at the wrong time in history. Newton? Wholeheartedly. His disregard for church doctrines would likely have gotten him assassinated if he hadn't already made proper political connections. Besides, I was talking more in reference to Webb's haphazard portal hopping, not to mention the questionable origins of his research, and how he ran across Axis America in a non-secure test-fire. While we're on the subject of other geniuses who could also be considered mad scientists, Franklin, Edison and Tesla belong on that list, too. Edison especially. Heck, my father's a mad scientist in the employ of the Army. There's nothing wrong with it, just careful mitigation is necessary. Why are we still on this? We have work to..."

Sheldon's gaze drifted to the peculiar dark trail flowing through the air. Most people wouldn't be able to see such a thing, but they normally lacked the enhanced glasses Sheldon normally sported. His eyebrow quirked and he snorted.

"Sixty-six, please handle..." he pointed and what he was seeing was transmitted to the android, "That."

Ryat66 didn't even turn his head, just threw his hand up and a nanite wave carrying heavily excited electrons formed a cage around the front of the energy line. Sheldon started charging his gauntlets and approached the peculiarity rapidly.

"You're new," he muttered, "And your behavior indicates you don't want to be found. I wonder if my colleagues' irrepressible need to defend their corporation's correctly lauded founder is your doing?"

He turned back to Kemen as he fired a wave of nanites at the oddity that should be able to hold it in place.

"Professionally, I do respect the man. He sought to expand our horizons, and paid the ultimate price for his work. I don't question that what Nemesis did with his research was evil and selfish, and I've noted that, at one time, if not for the Brass King's intervention, there was a good chance that we and the Rikti could even have been friends."

"Really?" Ryat66 asked almost happily, "Maybe there's a chance that bridge can be repaired!"

"In time, my friend, in time," Wallace replied, "Now, in the interests of finishing this, Dr. Webb was only a mad scientist in the simplest of definitions. As was Edison, as was Tesla, as is my father. He was, by no means, the true kind, like Vahzilok, Aeon, the Clockwork King, or Lazarus Crom. So please, I hope we can end this ludicrous discourse. My friend apologized, and I have explained the reason for his error. We really should move on now, sir."

With that, Sheldon turned back to the peculiar energy trail that had been seeking the Portal support facilities to gauge his work at detaining it.

-----------

--Peregrine Island: Bay Area--

Matt cursed as he reached his motorcycle. It was dented all up.

"I'm so sorry, man..."

Normally people referred to such vehicles as females, but something about this machine just screamed "male."

"Don't worry, when I get you out of the shop next time, we'll take a long ride through Astoria or Croatoa, and we'll tear apart some undead..."

He righted the vehicle and tested the shocks. They still had good bounce. He patted the armor plating as he turned the ignition key.

The vehicle gave a loud, angry roar. Matt was shouting something over the noise, but nobody would be able to understand that (or why) he was trying to soothe the violent looking vehicle.

After a few minutes of revving (even though it didn't seem the driver was actually pumping the gas), the motorcycle quieted down. Matt was patting it and actually talking quietly to it.

"Don't worry, boy... Everything's gonna be gravy after tonight. Let's just get back to Portal Corp and we'll see what we can do about helping Randy, 'cause I don't want to see what Ced or Kip do to the Army if they stay in charge..."

Popping a slight wheelie, the motorcycle roared down the street and left a number of Carnies in its dust.

----------

--Jade Moon--

Randall gave a low whistle to Acid.

"It looks like Dino knows his stuff," he grunted, "Well... Now that we know we're not in any immediate danger, anybody know anything about actual munitions? I'm pretty much only good with beating the Hell out of people and barking orders at the moment. My other skills don't lie anywhere near weapons technology."

Martin barked his answer.

"ENOUGH!"

He stomped on the ground for effect and a dark shadow emanated from his feet.

"All of you, off of Klaus, NOW!"

His hands wreathed in darkness, he stomped toward the fight.

"I am so sick of this crap! We have a mission!"

He pulled Brutish away from the ice and sidled around the patch.

"You!" he shouted at Dennis, "Get away from him! Now!"

((We had a fight with Poe. It devastated much of the Pocket D nightclub, which DJ Zero fixed with a snap of his fingers. Now, Power Breaker has inadvertently organized together a little posse formed of heroes and rogues to go hunt down that crazy [jerk] in the Dimension of Mists.

We expect this to get nasty.))

Solo Stryker opened a side panel window on his canopy and looked out. Something was odd out there... He could swear he saw something on his approach, and his sensors indicated a few more people than he could see.

"Hokay... Everybody pile in... We'll get you guys to Brother Mauthe's island in no time. Before we start, yes, I'm classified as a Stalker. My friend in there is a registered 'Mastermind' class..."

Justin Steel sat in the back of the dropship's passenger compartment. He saluted the passengers as they boarded. He had a peculiar smirk on his face, but said little.

"...The gentlemen at the Engineering controls are his Special Ops troopers, Mr. Hackler and Mr. Coach, and at the guns are Mr. Smythe and Mr. Weston."

The troopers waved.

"Mr. Kolt and Mr. Remington will be providing other measures of security..."

The other two soldiers, one in Commando gear, the other in Medical attire, nodded from their respective corners.

"And the Kingdale Referee, a Defender class, will see to your personal affairs."

"Screw you, Solo," the Referee barked as he oversaw the engineering, "I practically keep this rig from falling out of the sky as the Chief Engineer."

"So," Solo's voice came back over the intercom, "Once everybody's on board, let's get this show on the road."

((*Rub Temples*

Nevermind. Rewound and Erased...))

A) Insane, but strangely happy

B) Sacrificed as well.

C) Insane with new psychosis. Now she thinks little green men are in her teeth.

D) Strangely sane. The Ch'Thuloids are a product of American literature, not actual mythos, this creature has no actual power over him or reality. To him, this is all an illusion.

Unless of course, the reaction is to the actual picture, and not in context.

Then it's

A) "Aw, cool!"

B) "Oh dear..."

C) "Hmph."

D) "Hm... Interesting picture."

((Yes, it's a converted Arachnos Flyer, but HEAVILY converted. It looks more like the Reaver Dropship on Serenity with hover pods and lacking the graffiti and horrid black smoke coming out of the back of it right now.))

--Jade Moon--

"I don't know... Anything I demolished in my life I did personally. Of course, I figure we should probably either find others like this, or get the Hell outta here. Anybody else got any input?"

When teh bright light of the teleportation singularity faded, Kipland and Psycho13 looked to each other. Kipland had, amazingly, been brought into the teleportation thanks to his friendly proximity to other Resistance fighters. Pscyho smiled to his friend, and the two approached a vid screen as ordered.

"How do ya feel?" Kip asked his friend.

"Pretty bad," the other replied sheepishly, "I can be pretty scary when I let myself go, and I just got a glimpse of just how bad that can get today."

"You kill someone?"

"Oh yeah, lots of folks, but not like I'm talking about. When i kill, it's quick. Relatively painless. This one... I'm not gonna be sleeping too well..."

Kip's eyebrow over his eye patch raised slightly and he glared at Psycho13.

"Well, you made your bed."

"You kill, too, Kip," Psycho13 replied darkly, "I happen to know not all of the Protectors you've fought in your career died because of Crey's killswitch."

"Yeah," kip nodded, "So, sleep well. In our world, the ones who die largely have it coming."

"Not like that, though," Psycho13 replied as he turned back to the monitor, "Not like that."

It obviously doesn't make it fine. That's up to you, Devious.

Of course, we're quite a bit off topic from the original posts regarding classical definitions of insanity being levied against modern humanity and its wider range of perception.

As it stands, I think that modern humans react more with anger to things that don't fit their limited scope than insanity. Otherwise, they simply ignore it.

"You."

Kip looked up from his lunch to Infernal. It was a little hard not to recognize the demonic man's clefted chin and burly features. It was a little unsettling to see him out of armor, though.

"Can I help you?" the scrapper replied, his fatigue clear in his sigh, "Let me guess... This is about... Kat..."

"Yes..." the large tank of a man took the seat in front of him.

A lot of the patrons in the Up N' Away burger joint were staring at them. They knew these two were heroes, but had no clue who exactly they were.

"Papers are still calling me Apex," Kip grumbled, "He... He had a few choice words to share with me a couple days ago. So what's your beef?"

"What's your angle?"

"My angle?"

"...Kat disappears for a few weeks after the Praetorian Invasion and suddenly appears with you in the D. At first, we thought it was... her sister... but she's far more in control of herself than that wildcat ever was, so that's not the case."

"You're about as subtle as a Mac truck right now," Kip grunted as he gestured toward the paparazzo behind Infernal, "Not too wise for somebody who wants to keep his personal life a secret."

"Like you?"

"I never wanted this!" Kip hissed, "I already told you guys what the past week has been like for me!"

"I still think you're trying something," the demonic man pushed himself from the table and started walking away, "I don't have anything yet, but I've got my eye on you."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

"Mr. Durj?"

Kip turned to a little kid with the notepad in his hand. This was a first.

"Yeah?" he asked, his tone suddenly lighter.

"Can I have your autograph?"

Definitely a first.

"Sure, kid," Kip took the pad and the pen and started writing, "Who am I making this out to?"

"Timmy Kincaid."

Kip's eyebrow arched at that name. Definitely one of those people with a destiny ahead of him. Maybe with this one act of kindness, he could inspire the kid toward the cause of justice.

"There ya go," he barked happily as he handed over the pad with his name in it, "Have a good one, man."

"Is that all?" another voice asked him from the side, somebody in a business suit, "Shouldn't you have said something like 'Stay in school,' or 'Don't do drugs?'"

"I think the kid's smart enough," Kip replied with a little anger after Tim had run back happily to his mother, "Besides, I always hated those condescending messages when I was a kid. You want a kid to stay off Superadine, you tell him how it turns you into a brain-dead troll with no regard for his family or friends, whom he'll gladly tear apart to get his next fix. Just telling him to stay away is enough reason for a kid to want to know what it's like for himself."

The man shrugged.

"Still... It tends to go with the territory."

"And who the Hell are you to tell me how to be a hero?" Kip was getting agitated again.

"Well... My friends call me Steve..."

"Well, I'm not your friend, Steve," Kip got up and threw away the remains of his lunch (he'd lost his appetite) before addressing the other patrons of the restaurant, "You want my endorsement? Kids, stop eating this processed crap and go get yourself a real meal! I haven't had a decent burger that I didn't cook myself nor a quality sub that, again, I didn't have to throw together on my own! I am so sick and tired of these burgers that taste like pressed newspaper pulp flavored with a little soy sauce!"

With that, he bolted out the door. He was angry. Really angry. And the next Crey facility on his list was going to feel it.

The Paragon Protector pacing inside the entrance thought he could take the little upstart he'd been warned about. He thought wrong. Kip hit him with a flying knee that smashed out his visor and followed up the attack with a double-foot stomp to the chest. Bits of plastic sputtered out of the hole in the Protector's helmet as he expelled the air in his lungs in a fit of coughs that weren't going to end any time soon.

"Woah!" the security guard watching from the monitor room grunted, "He looks serious!"

"That's too bad," the red-headed Infiltrator replied as she got a hold of an assault rifle and started to head out, "Kick on the alert klaxons! Get the facility on alert and start shredding evidence!"

"Yes ma'am, Agent Ross!"

When the agent found herself in the main chamber of the first floor, Kip had already arrived. The Protector who'd been at the door had apparently recovered, briefly, and promptly got his head kicked in when he tried to continue his fight with Kip. There were some spiderweb cracks in the wall where the scrapper had made his head bounce off it.

A small horde of security guards and agents were also trying to stop Kip, but they couldn't seem to actually hit him with a bullet. A dark cloud of what looked to be a similar energy to the Kheldians was intercepting the bullets and robbing them of their kinetic power. This gave Agent Ross an idea.

"Hunter Zachariah," she whispered into her wrist microphone, "Engage the target."

"No," came the answer from the Void Hunter assigned to their facility, "I've dealt with this individual before. The source of his power is unaffected by my weaponry. I'm moving on to my next assignment. Good luck."

"Oh, come on! You have to try!"

"I did once, and I nearly got my spine broken for it. You have all you need to really put him down, but I don't have a lot of confidence in your chances. Good day."

Agent Ross cursed and looked back tot eh fight. Or rather, she looked at the top of Kip's head (he was a bit short, after all). Before she could level her weapon at him, he caught the scruff of her neck.

"Ah! Ow! Ow! Ow!" Agent Ross shouted.

"Yeah, I know," Kip growled, "It hurts. Now, get walking. Take me to the computer that will tell me where I can find out what the Hell happened to me that night!"

"Agh! There's no need to be so -ow!- mean!"

"Sure there is," Kip muttered, "March."

He squeezed a little more and she started moving. She led him to a security room where a guy trying desperately to throw on his Power Tank Armor looked at them sheepishly.

"Stop," Kip ordered, "And I won't have to send you on a short, painful trip to the Zig."

He tossed Agent Ross over to the Security Chief and turned to the terminal that was halfway through a standard backup before the information was deleted. Grumbling he started running through the process of stopping the backup and rooting through the system for anything he thought would help him.

"What are you looking for?" Agent Ross suddenly asked, "We're just a chemical plant!"

"That alone is reason to raid this place," Kip muttered, "But you guys are on a list that has something to do with Project Invader. I want to... Here we go..."

He found a chemical formula advertised to cause severe drowsiness as well as a small bout of amnesia. It apparently had started life as an insomnia medication.

"Fricking figures."

It was something of a dead end, but now he knew what had been injected into him. he catalogued the evidence, then ripped the ethernet cable out of the wall.

"Why'd you do that?" the Security Chief shouted.

"So the system automatically locks up when I let it resume it's backup to wherever..." he answered, "Now... I'm going to take this freaking thing apart and have my tech root through the hard drive... Tell me where this thing was set to send information to..."

The two Crey agents stared at him in confusion.

"You've been doing this a long time, huh?"

"Long enough to be efficient at it," Kip replied as he tore the hard drive out of the machine, "Ow. There was some electricity still in that..."

"It was still plugged in!" his soul shouted at him, "Holy freaking bejegus! That hurt! They've got enough juice to function as one-shot electric chairs! Dammit, I'm starting to think I should just merge back into the mind!"

"But I like the banter..." Kip replied, "Plus... There's the fact that you're somewhat helpful..."

"Oh yeah, like warning about when the Crey Agent is halfway out the door to get reinforcements."

"What?" Kip asked out loud as he turned to see Agent Ross running out the door, "Ah, dammit!"

He started to run after her, stopped at the door, and turned back to teh Security Chief.

"Don't you, ah forget it. You're gonna suit up and come after me regardless."

"Oh yeah," the Chief was already trying to pull the boot on he wasn't able to finish donning earlier.

"Well, I guess it'll break the tedium..." Kip muttered as he went back to his pursuit.

A slide tackle later and he was staring down the barrel of a pistol Agent Ross pointed at him from the floor.

"Can we not do this?" Kip shouted, "You and I both know what's going to happen when you pull that trigger! It's gonna bounce off this energy field protecting me and I'm going to mop the floor with you! It's the same for every hero throughout this damn city!"

"I still have to try," Ross shouted as she squeezed the trigger.

The bullet bounced off Kip's forehead, leaving a nasty welt there. He gave an angry shout and punted Ross down the hall.

"What the freaking Hell!? I told you what was going to happen!"

Ross, however, was clutching her belly in the corner of the hallway. Kip walked over and rapped a Police Drone tag on her.

"Don't worry, the Zig has top-notch medical."

"You... You didn't even hesitate..."

"You shot me," Kip replied sternly, "I warned you what would happen. What did you expect?"

"I'm a woman!"

"And?"

Kip turned away, muttering something about equality and double standards. He was taken out of his reverie by an energy blast that caught him on the side of his head.

"Ow! Godammit!"

"Ha!" the Security Chief shouted, now fully equipped in his Power Tank Armor, "You never thought it would come to thi-"

Kip kicked him in the voice emitter and followed up with an elbow to the throat. The Chief coughed a little but started to get back to the fight at hand in short order.

A decent Power Tank was usually able to handle most heroes. With their energy assaults and powered up melee strikes, they were almost more dangerous than Paragon Protectors through sheer damage output. However, since they often lacked the advantage of surprise, as well as some of the resilience the hero clones usually sported, they had to chiefly rely on the hero being distracted by minions or some such. Very few Power Tanks could truly go toe-to-toe with a scrapper, much less a tank.

The Security Chief here wasn't about to get any advantage, either, especially against an angry scrapper like Kipland Durj. For all the energy brawling and blasts the Power Tank leveled at the young hero, Kip was either too quick or the energy field protecting him was too resilient to the assaults. Then there was the fact that Kip knew how to fight, too.

"Kee-" the scrapper shouted as he leaped into the air, twirled and brought his foot crashing into the tank's helmet, "-Raaaaaaaah!"

The Security Chief crumpled, his helmet dented rather sharpl inward. From the muffled metallic cursing, it sounded as if the Chief was a little aggravated by his loss. Kip pegged him with a Police Drone tag and left the facility.

"Okay, time to get this thing to Sheldon or one of the Ryats and find out where they were sending all of this information to..."

He felt a quick tap on his shoulder and whirled around. He almost grunted when he saw it was Mynx.

"What is it?" she asked, "Why are you being so difficult all of a sudden?"

"Because I wasn't me when this started!" Kip shouted, "We've been over this!"

"We thrashed a Nemesis cell together!" she shouted back, "How do you do that in a coma?"

She showed him her communicator and the video footage. He chuckled a little at the scene of a familiar Tirailleur getting his rifle snapped over Kip's knee.

"I remember that guy. Man, he really hates me and my friends."

"See, I like that," Mynx chuckled, "I want to share more moments like that with you! Come on! You and me, we should go and thrash some place together, while you're like this!"

"Why?"

"So you can see that I'm not just dating the guy who was... drunk."

"I wasn't drunk, I was drugged."

"Whatever," Mynx rolled her eyes, "Listen, you and me, we go kick the tar out of some bad guys..."

She flicked a bit of dirt off Kip's collar, "Then we get some dinner... And see where the night takes us."

Kip sighed. This was insane. He was never this lucky.

"Maybe it's just your unwillingness to let Amy go."

It was plausible. Still, he couldn't shake how uneasy this whole situation made him.

"I guess," he muttered, "I have here a hard drive set to do a file dump to a remote location. I was planning to have some of my friends find out where that is and go thrash it tonight. Sound good?"

"Sounds great!" she grabbed his arm and snuggled close, "See? We can make this work."