Mr_Grey

Power Breaker watched them from the ledge and shook his head. His nanites provided him with a likely scenario as to why she had to be up there at that moment. Whoever she was talking to, he hoped it was worth it.

Sometimes... Sometimes Arachnos went looking for trouble.

Seeing the patrol, he considered making his presence known. Not the group's, mind you. Chances were, he could provide a messy distraction, and the troops would give chase. He'd also be able to lose them pretty easily, too.

Usually.

It looked to be a normal patrol, though, so he let it be. With any luck (which he was, admittedly, in short supply on lately) they'd pass by and not notice the "Chosen" doing whatever their patrons had sent them out to do.

Of course, knowing Arachnos, they could just as easily start sniping them off the tower for kicks. Arachnos followed "Survival of the Fittest" after all, and that apparently included M.D.G. hunting...

((You and me both, Devious. You and me both.))

"Hey, Tommy, who're we rootin' for again?"

"The one that looks like a devil."

"They both look like devils..."

"The one with pants on, then!"

In the Zig's "yard," a large group of prisoners were watching the duel taking place above them. They knew that Cory had put a large number of them in the prison (as had many of the heroes they were rooting for), but there was something to be said about the devil you know.

Cory and his Praetorian dove and struck at each other like some sort of hideous dogfight. Flames and icicles continued to rain from the sky, causing the spectators below to scatter briefly.

Cory's armor wasn't holding out. Worse, his Praetorian's close-range fire attacks had some nasty tricks to them that didn't require a lot of the specifics the Primal Cory needed for his ice spells (like the Ice Patch).

"I'm running out of tricks," Cory started flying away, "I'm getting tired... I gotta do this another way..."

As he fled, he left a trail of flames. The Praetorian followed doggedly, throwing beams of cold energy and lines of jagged icicles. One again, Cortland thanked his lucky stars for the "Whirling Wind Armor" spell that kept him protected, even from this assault.

He and his foe bobbed and weaved through the alleys. He ducked under fire escapes and darted over rooftops, all the while leaving a trail of flames. Praetorian Cory glided along the trail, absorbing the fire into his armor and making it stronger. Soon, he figured, the fight would be over.

Suddenly, Primal Cory started to ascend. Climbing higher and higher, he started dropping more powerful spells behind him. The dark opposite had a little trouble gathering energy from these spells, the fireball hit a little too quickly and the Blaze was just a little too hot. Cursing, the Praetorian pumped his wings harder and coalesced some fire blades into existence.

"This ends now, brother!"

"Yes," Cortland replied as he stopped suddenly, and an ice sword was in his hand.

The two met, Cory's ice blade getting cleaved off at the hilt, but he was able to stop the other blade from killing him as he caught it with his free hand. Staring coldly into his enemy's eyes, he jabbed at the dark version of himself with the broken sword before the villain could recover from his last assault. The point jabbed into the Praetorian's shoulder and they pushed away from each other.

Floating in the air, the Praetorian with his wounded shoulder, Cory nursing his burnt hand, they regarded each other.

"That was it?" the dark one hissed, then grabbed at the ice hilt in his arm, "This was your 'end-of-it-all' attack?"

"Yes," Cory replied, "Because it's over."

The Praetorian glared at him perplexedly, then tried to pull the weapon out of his body. The blade was stuck. Worse, still, his hand was frozen in place. Not yet realizing what Primal Cory had done, Praetorian Cortland looked to the injury to witness that the hilt had grown into an ice coating that was starting to restrain him and prevent him from fighting.

His eyes widening, he attempted to blaze his way out of the ice, but Primal Cortland suddenly charged forward and crashed into his enemy with an elbow smash to the face. Stunned, the Praetorian was unable to resist the ice wrapping around his body and dropping his infernal body back to the ground.

Watching his enemy plummet, Cory mumbled a few words and gestured to the air around him. The heat was drained out of the sky in great, brilliant arcs that coalesced into an orb of brilliant orange light just in front of the wizard. Grasping the energy, Cory aimed down and unleashed a blazing bolt that tore into his "brother" and finished the fight definitely.

On the ground, a group of Freaks found themselves witha new guest.

"Hoo-boy! Did somebody order barbecue?" a steel-toothed grinning Champion Swiper shouted, "I think i'ts about done!"

"Mm-mm..." a Tank chuckled, "He sure does have a purdy mouth... Heh heh... I bet cape tastes like chicken!"

"Wait..." one of the shotgun toting initiates tried to stop his friends before they started mangling the burnt offering from the sky, "Is this one of the capes, or an anti-cape that's been running around?"

"Who cares?" the Champion shouted, "They're all meat, right?"

"Whuh-wait!" the Praetorian choked out as he pointed to the sky, "look... No!"

Cory was descending like a raptor on prey. His wings pinned back and his hands at his sides, it had to be odd that he was casting spells on his way. Gathered globes of flame were left spiraling down behind him, and a moment before reaching the rooftops, he spread his wings and soared away.

The spiral, however, did not. An agonized scream echoed with the explosion as several fireballs and Blaze spells connected with their target. The Eyes of Eagles spell was quite handy.

The alley was incinerated, leaving burnt pieces of metal slag as the only evidence of any villainy. Cory muttered a quiet prayer to the winds for the souls that had to be taken in the final attack. However, he felt no remorse.

This was war. He had no time to be careful... And he didn't feel like having to fight himself again. He'd already done that twice now.

I don't think the End of Beta event is regarded as canon.

"Well don't look at me," Mad Matt said from the doorway, then, noting everybody's puzzled glances, "What? That nimrod tell you guys I was coming back naked? Look, I did something like that once, in high school... It was a hot day, I didn't have swimming trunks or a change of clothes and the river was right there! Bridge too..."

He looked ponderous for a moment.

"...Maybe I should've considered that people would be driving by..."

He glanced at his garb.

"Oh yeah... I shaved my head, switched out the denim jacket for a black leather vest, got a pair of those snazzy Malta Group fatigues, and I had some of the wizards in that M.A.G.I. office zap this warpaint into my skin... Doesn't last like a tattoo, maybe a couple weeks, a month, tops, but if this op takes longer than that duration, everybody else'll know we're in trouble."

((YAY! I found them! Mad Matt's current appearance: Mad Matt Undercover))

"So, what's wrong?"

Cedric grimaced.

"He'd probably leave his butt bare..."

Gathering up some of the outfit junk and a can of spray paint, he started heading out.

"I'm gonna find a nice ventilated room and get to work altering my armor. See you guys in a tad."

Cedric smirked and shook his head sadly.

"Any bureaucratic system is terrible at disseminating information to those who should be its allies. Look at how the F.B.I., N.S.A., C.I.A., D.O.D. (even the departments within the D.O.D.) and so on treat each other! When I was in the Marines, we would have cut off our left hands to avoid giving the Air Force any good information..."

He paused to think about that.

"Well, okay, I'm exaggerating a lot, but still... You get what I mean! It's highly unlikely that all of Arachnos is gonna be scouring the islands looking for us."

"Mercy Island," Matt rolled his eyes, "That might be a little different... And who knows what kinds of hired guns that frosty witch is gonna pull in for the job? Don't worry, in a second, i won't look anything like this..."

He picked up a jar of warpaint and headed for the bathroom. Cedric's eyes bugged out a little.

"Oh man, there's a chance he comes back wearing nothing but the paint..."

Power Breaker nodded as he started to follow. Oddly, at that moment, his head started doing that buzzing thing again.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Brother," the voice of leader of the Brotherhood, the Dregs, or whatever odd name the banded together destitute of the Rogue Isles were calling themselves this month, intoned clearly into his head, "I trust you've been appraised of your situation..."

"No," Power Breaker thought, and the words were transferred to Mauthe as if he had spoken them (a most unusual phone), "I have no clue what's going on, but an old friend let me know who to trust."

"Not necessarily trust," Mauthe seemed to chuckle, "But... I guess a leap of faith is required for redemption."

"What's your interest in this?"

"Curiosity, mostly. Since you helped us to repair that Giant Freakshow Tank, I've kept an eye on goings-on that concern you... You have a peculiar destiny woven into your aura..."

"Look, Mauthe... Do you want in on this job?"

"Not just yet. If you or your friends hit a snag... I will send my brothers to assist in any way they can."

"I see..." Breaker rubbed his jawline, "Well... I'll keep in touch."

"You won't," Mauthe did chuckle this time, "I'll be the one keeping in touch. Good luck, my large friend."

Breaker blinked involuntarily as the "phone" clicked off. Every couple of weeks or months, the nanites did something new to his body. Usually, it was something small (like a muted version of night vision, or a magnetic sense to find things like car keys), sometimes, something major (like his various energy shields or the conduits in his skin that channeled energy into his punches).

Every change frightened him a little. He was further from his former humanity than ever before, and he lost a little more every day.

It was so strange, then, that he felt regret. Maybe that was the last thing to go. Maybe...

Self Analysis Initiated.

"Oh, don't you start," Breaker winced as his "interface" started up.

Concerns raised:

Loss of Life

Loss of Soul

Loss of Self

Query?

"What?"

Why do you fear us?

This was new. The nanites had never talked to him like that before.

"I... I don't..."

Yes you do. You worry that we'll turn you into little more than a walking corpse, fit only for keeping us alive.

"And?"

You know so little about, us, yet assume so much. We have worked hard to improve you... This is hardly the time to start doubting us.

"In my experience, everybody's trying to use everybody," Power Breaker sighed, "What assurance do I have all this cool [censored] wasn't just fattening me up until you could engage in your vendetta?"

If you die, we die. If your mind ceases to function, we lose our will. You want our most sincere assurance that we won't harm you? We are you.

That definitely was new. The conversation was also over. His brain had stopped that odd buzzing. Funny, it took only a second or so.

An excellent tale, Burning.

Truly, yours is a world where dragons live.

((That's funny!

E D I T:
*looks down*

Ha-HA! I can totally see that!

"Erg! URGH! Dammit! Separate! There's a malfunction!"

"You okay, Warbird?"

"Leave me! I will take care of them... I... just... need to... SEPARATE!"

"Dude, there's a back way out..."

"Augh!"

"Calm down, War Bird... Have some orange juice!"

I'm gonna stop right there...))

Finishing wrapping the tape around what he figured would be the handles of his new weapons, Psycho13 stopped and gazed at his reflection in the blade. One clear, deep blue eye stared back at him.

Sure, there was a chance his brother and friends had escaped. Sure, they could be back in Kingdale, forgetting that they had ever been more than human. It was possible.

Not probable.

Matt would've urged them to fight. James would have been one of the first to dive headlong into whatever it was that was attacking them and thrash as many troops as possible. They probably would've crashed the vessel on purpose, just to kill him.

Considering his friends, jsut about the only survivor could have been Bioserj, and only because he probably wouldn't have been on the derrick at the time. Of course, even he would likely have been slaughtered in the "purges" that swept the Rogues.

"Why hasn't this [censored] hit me yet?" Psycho13 muttered, "I've lost some of the closest friends and family a guy can have... Why am I so calm?"

He slid the blades into his rigger's belt and stood. He nodded to Small Toy and muttered a "thank you." Then, he approached Vendetta and Hotaka.

"Guys," he whispered, "I'm restless... When do we get out there and get some killing done?"

((Am I getting this right? Is War Bird a walking "Gnome" vessel? That's what I get from this, that we're all seeing what appears to be an armored man, but inside are all these tiny men(?) treating every movement as a military operation.))

A loud "Ding!" sounded in Power Breaker's head. Looking at the young girl and the odd man conversing in front of the Slot Machine, he tried to connect the dots.

"Is that you John Wayne? Is this me?"

Ding!

For a moment, the cyborg was a little perturbed that Slot Machine had (A) got the call, (2) answered and (D) understood the reference. He shrugged and walked up to the man, as women tended to be a little frightened of him upon first meeting.

Men tended to have that "Alpha Male" complex to protect their psyches.

Where the Hell did all this come from?

Oh yeah... The nanites. They were always learning... Always reading... Always figuring things out when he didn't want them to. And, since they lacked a true memory core, they just stuffed what they learned into his subconscious... Like the Malleus Mundi... Why did he ever open that book up?

"Excuse me," he intoned, "I believe you're here to meet me..."

Great story.

"Cool!" Cedric shouted, "I always liked covert ops! You gonna be throwing me in Arachnos Armor?"

"Ced..." Matt muttered to his friend, "Don't you kind of need that armor?"

"Nah, man! I'll just pop out the modules Shel put in this stuff and switch it into the new stuff, easy-peasy! How do you think I run around with just my cammy pants and PT shirt?"

"Lunacy?"

"Heh, yeah... But I also got a modified Grav control module hooked into the belt. This [censored] no problem!"

"And they called me mad," McGinty muttered as he rolled his eyes, "Well, I'm good with what I've got, so long as I get to keep my sword. Suit me up, and let's get to business."

----

Power Breaker reached the Giza and approached a machine nobody else seemed to use. In fact, they seemed preternaturally disposed to avoid it.

"Hello, old friend," he rumbled as he inserted a coin and pulled the lever, "Heard any good stories?"

The orange screen went through its bells and whistles displays. The little dials spun, but Breaker knew they wouldn't land on a winner. However, a personal greeting for the Brute was typed out on the orange interface.

Then, the screen went blood red.

"Danger."

"I know," Power Breaker inserted another coin and pulled the lever, "Got any clues as to what?"

"Spider Specter," the screen replied, "Old friends... New foes... Very little payoff."

"I figured as much," Breaker sighed as he tossed a hundred dollar bill into the slot and pulled the lever again.

"Some who would be allies are headed your way."

"Should I trust them?"

"Unknown. Their intentions are difficult to fathom. Both are of similar dispositions to you... But both have commited great sins."

"So have I."

"Your actions mitigate your karma."

The dials stopped on a winner and a fifty dollar bill slid out of the slot.

"Stay put, and they'll be here shortly," the slot machine finally explained, "It has been good knowing you, Raymond. I hope your dreams come true."

"Hope it's the pleasant ones." Breaker chuckled before walking away to find himself a seat.

Cobalt Black 3-8-9 gazed across the water to the edge of the beach. Funny enough, Terra Volta was still Terra Volta in Praetorian Earth, it just wasn't a savage wasteland.

That was the surprising thing. Despite the devastation done during Tyrant's rise to power, he and his cronies had left that region (and many other utilities) largely unscathed.

Of course, Cobalt knew it was just so they could more easily utilize them later. In this case, the Terra Volta Reactors were supplying the power to all of the Portal Devices scattered throughout the city. Where Prime Paragon City had only one nuclear reactor, all of the power plants in Terra Volta were up to par and more than capable of engaging in this act of war while still supplying the city with the power it so desperately needed.

"Sometimes," Red Renegade muttered behind him, "People don't care who their king is... They just want to do their jobs, raise their families, go to school... So long as the routines of daily life aren't interrupted, there's no problem."

"But a lot of the city is a wasteland!" Cobalt replied darkly, "How can the people forgive Tyrant?"

"They don't have a choice. Sure, he took their old routines away, but he quickly supplanted it with a new one. The people were tired. They were tired of the fighting, tired of the war... And they quickly adapted to the new order of things."

"What about us?"

"We..." Red sighed, "We don't belong here... Not anymore."

"Is that why this is Operation: Last Hurrah?"

"Yep."

The armored insertion vehicles stormed the beach and made for the small fortification nearby. Fifty caliber machine gun fire pelted the transports, but could do little to stop the tracked machines. The first one, designated Invader One, smashed through the wall and popped open its hatch.

The vehicle had only one passenger.

Ryat Dreadnought, a massive machine built mostly from the parts of Zeus Class Titans from Prime Earth, stormed out of the opening and unleashed pure Hell on Tyrant's troops. Chaingun ammunition, energy beams, rockets, and even fire were all used against the foes. In minutes, the robot had cleared the base and was moving on to the next.

In the meantime, the Maltese Resistance took the small firebase, stripped it of its valuables, and prepared to follow Ryat Dreadnought. The machine was a one-man wrecking crew, and demonstrated its skill efficiently and admirably.

Within a few hours, the freedom fighters had torn their way through to the first power plant. Here, Ryat Dreadnought stopped.

"You're going to have to move on to Phase Two," he intoned to Red Renegade, "It's the only way."

"You know the plan," the red-clad gunslinger growled at the machine, "Don't make me regret my decision to trust you!"

"The plan calls for speed, calculation, and not a little brute strength," the robot replied, "Not to mention certain lethality for you."

"That's not..."

"It is not your destiny to die today," Dreadnought closed his arm and pointed the limb at the leader of the revolutionaries, "But know this, there will be victory."

Praetorian Crimson stared at the machine for a few moments and nodded. He turned to his men and gave a few hand gestures of silent command. Get back to the boats, on to Phase Two.

"Are you sure about this?" Cobalt asked the machine, "We could really use you back home..."

"If they need me, Sheldon will make another," Dreadnought replied, "One far more upgraded. I know my lot in life, and I know where my destiny lies. I'm not afraid."

"But... What you told me... Won't you be missed?"

"Consider this a shave."

"I see..."

"You better get going," Dreadnought gave the Gunslinger a nudge, "They can't wait for you."

"I know... Thank you, Dreadnought."

"Just take care of your family. That's thanks enough."

Cobalt Black turned and headed for the boats. Ryat Dreadnought watched him go and felt a pang of what he could only have described as sadness. Not at what his immediate future entailed, but at the simple end of a friendship. They'd only known each other a few weeks, but that had been more than enough for the machine.

"Freeze!" he heard behind him, "Down on your knees! DOWN ON YOUR KNEES!"

They were soldiers. Real soldiers. Not just Marauder goons or RAM androids. These were straight up "U.S. Military."

"Oh goodie..." Ryat Dreadnought muttered as he turned around.

"Who the Hell told you to turn around?"

"Time to make some new friends!"

The android's arms popped open and a flurry of rockets cascaded into the green-uniformed soldiers. Assault rifle fire impacted on his armor, but the android had little intention of letting that stop him. His chaingun made short work of the rest.

----

"Set course for Peregrine Island," Red Renegade ordered.

"Red?" Black Purple inquired, "You're still with us?"

"Let's just say... That robot added a new dimension to the plan..."

"Good... Good..."

----

"Here we go," Randall muttered as he loped up to one of the buildings in king's Row that was just way out of place, "This has to be a portal generator."

"Die, Hero!"

Randall just swung his fist around in a wide arc and twisted his body to the right. He wound up backhanding one of the assaulting minions into a nearby wall.

"And here I was thinking this would be boring," he chortled as the rest of the Rampagers and their Wrecker leader tried to bull rush him, "Come on, now, don't be trying that super karate on me..."

Six Eagle Claw attacks struck him full in the face. He didn't even flinch.

"Let's try this on for size," Randall roared before stomping on the ground as the villains landed, knocking them all down, "And one to grow on!"

Shortly afterward, the streets were filled with the sounds of men screaming. A broken body was tossed from an alley as Randall decided to go on a small rampage.

"Freckers can't take it when it's happenin' to you..." he rumbled to a cornered Ocelot, "I'd say that means ya got no right doin' it!"

Psycho13 plugged the coordinates into the computer and waited for the image to come up. It didn't take long.

The Masters of Mayhem, or whoever they were, had obviously noted the kind of thorn the Brutal Warriors had been to the prior regime.

He could tell, because he was looking at the tops of a few blasted pillars barely jutting out of the surface of the Atlantic. Pillars that should have been topped with a modified derrick and the base of operations for the Brutal Warriors Order.

Psycho13 stared at the image. It wasn't that he was waiting for comprehension, it was just that he was trying to "file" the new data accordingly. It felt exactly like...

Like when he and Rage's brother died...

He input some random coordinates and walked away from the screen. It was a lot more difficult to walk all of a sudden. He lurched his way to where he had been working on his new weapons and slumped down.

After a few moments of sitting there with a stare of blank depression, he picked up one of the blades and got back to work making up the handles. His face twitched a little as he worked.

Yeah, but most people are at work before 5 PM.

"Can that thing show me a satellite image of a certain point in the middle of the Atlantic?"

Psycho13 was suddenly very concerned. There was no way his friends would have just stood by and let any of this happen. If things had gone the way Vendetta said, though...

That crazy feeling in the stomach a person gets when they know something bad is about to happen hit Psycho13 like a sack of oranges. He pulled himself up and walked slowly toward his newfound allies.

With any luck, V would tell him "no," and he could hold out some vain hope...

But Psycho13 was never really lucky in life.

Psycho13 stared at the briefcase, his eyes wide and mouth pursed in apprehension. That was certainly... interesting.

"Oh.... Kay...." he finally breathed out, "It's nice to make your acquaintance... I think..."

Against every fiber of his being urging him not to, he tapped the briefcase.

"Even you!"

((Too bad Magus doesn't have the boost from those sacrificed police officers like he's expecting... I almost feel bad about that (thanks to the Watch series...). Oh well...))

Cory and his opposite ducked and dove through the air, prisoners of Ziggursky watching below. It was surprisingly silent, it seemed the prisoners didn't know whom to root for.

What was even more peculiar was what little distance the two had made against each other...

Whenever Cory threw a ball of fire at his foe, it was absorbed into an armor of flames that wrapped and wreathed around the Praetorian. Whenever the Praetorian threw a beam of ice, Cory altered the attack to make material for his own frosty armor.

"It seems," his foe muttered as he paused in the air and simply dropped his latest assault to the ground below, "We have reached an impasse..."

"Indeed," Cory formed a blade of ice in his right hand, "What do you say we find another means of finishing our duel?"

"Sounds intriguing," the Praetorian chuckled, "I shall enjoy spilling your blood and reducing your corpse to ashes!"

"And I will be just as happy doing the same to you," Simmons replied, "I've been informed I shouldn't be, but my moral beliefs are vastly different from my fellows."

The Praetorian crafted a pair of fire blades, one for each hand.

"Perhaps, there's more similarity to us than we first believed..." the dark version mused, "How unfortunate we must meet in these conditions."

"Unfortunate," Cory agreed, "But necessary. For us, there cannot be two in the same world."

"And others?"

"Others don't bear the weight of destiny so hard."

With that, the two demon-winged warriors dove at each other, one wrapped in and wielding ice, the other fire. They clashed where they met and sped away from each other without losing momentum. After an appreciable distance, Cory looked at himself.

The fire blade he didn't deflect had scored a neat line across the torso of his armor. He sighed as he realized just what he would have to do to win. He had a subtle fear he was slightly behind in the course of the fight however.

----

Cedric paid little attention to the Praetorians falling out of the sky around him. He should have known, the first attack was almost a diversion, just something to amass Prime Earth's forces in one region, and attack somewhere (or, as the case may be, everywhere) else entirely.

He made for the statue at the center of Steel Canyon. There, he found a small army of low-level heroes battling alongside Positron and Valkyrie. Though they seemed determined, there was definite fear in everybody's eyes.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!" he shouted as he dove into the rear ranks of the Praetorians.

The first one, he simply cleaved through the back. It was a robot, so that was fine.

The next, he wrapped a chain around his neck and dragged him to the ground. A swift stomp on his face and the Rampager stopped moving. A little much, but Cedric wasn't in hero mode anymore.

He was a Marine again.

Two more dropped with swift kicks to the backs of their legs, and Cedric ended them with hard chops.

By this time, the Praetorian soldiers noticed the newcomer and started turning their attention to him as well. Cedric wasn't really paying them much mind, though. His target was further along, engaged with Valkyrie.

A few beams of bright, incandescent energy tore through the ranks of Praetorians and Ryat66 was suddenly there. Diving into the middle of the fight, the tiny android started wailing on the villains, his punches charged with high voltage. He seemed especially devastating against the Clockwork robots.

"Your city is finished!" Battle Maiden shouted at her counterpart, "Give up, and your death will be quick, if not painless!"

"I will never give up!" Valkyrie shouted back, "I will not let you reduce this city, this world, my home into a wasteland! You will not bring Ragnarok here!"

"Hee-YEAH!" Cedric slammed into Battle Maiden from behind and the villain went tumbling a few feet away, "Need some help?"

"Verily," the heroine replied, "But we had a battle of honor-"

Cedric threw the axe and struck a Rampager sneaking from behind her.

"This is war," Grey replied curtly, "All's fair, remember?"

"Still, this is my fight..."

"You're going to have to step in line, then," Cedric muttered, "I owe it to my Praetorian to make good his fight, which happened quite a while before you met her..."

The heroine glared at him like he was crazy, but relented. She didn't have much choice at the time, as another group of Praetorian troops broke through the Freedom Corps retainers and started making for her and Positron.

"Remember me?" Cedric shouted over the rioting, "Maybe not... See, you probably remember longer hair, a leather outfit... Not like Domi's little toadies, but more like one of them..."

Cedric hurled one of his chains and tripped up a Champion of Mourning to illustrate his point.

"I recognize the attitude," Battle Maiden hissed as she picked herself back up, "Cedric the Gray..."

"Cedric Grey, here," he replied, "Though, uh..."

He waved the axe at her.

"My brother does have a bone to pick with you."

"His axe?" she whispered, "The one stolen from my armory... How did it come into your possession?"

"Who knows?" Cedric pulled the axe back, ready to fight, "But it's time to settle the score!"

"You truly think you can win against me?"

"Oh yeah," Cedric chuckled, "You're dog food."

----

Ryat99 reached the Freedom Corps building as the Praetorians did. Back Alley Brawler was leading the fight as fresh heroes, Freedom Corps troops, and heavy class Police Drones attempted to hold back the enemies.

"Excuse me," he muttered as he tossed Rampagers, Cockatrices, and Alley Cats out of his way, "Pardon me. Coming through."

Back Alley Brawler's fist almost connected with Ryat99's face as he broke through the Praetorian lines.

"Whoah!" the big android intoned passively, "That's a big fist!"

"You sound almost like Citadel," Brawler backed away cautiously, "You're not some sort of alternate alternate, are you?"

"Oh no, I can't hope to compete with the complexity of his programming," Ryat99 replied almost cheerfully, "At least, I think I can't... Maybe it is possible... Oh well, food for thought later. For now, can I please enter the Freedom Corps building? These guys scratching at my back and butt are starting to do some real damage."

Ryat99's icicle spikes were dangerous enough to cause the villains worry, but they were still getting their hits in. The fortunate thing, however, was that Ryat99 was providing an excellent distraction at the moment for all of the low-level heroes to take a breath and coordinate their attacks more effectively.

"Go right ahead," Brawler nodded after a short while longer so he could be sure everybody was ready for another push, "Thanks for your help, so far."

"Don't thank me yet," Ryat99 warbled cheerfully, "Wait until I unleash the cavalry!"

"Cavalry?" Back Alley Brawler grunted as he jumped back into the fight, "What the Hell?"

"I thought he was Toy..." Psycho13 arched an eyebrow at the newcomers as he wrapped rags and duct tape around the bases of his blades, "Rather, Combat Toy... Whatever... I'm Caleb. You can call me K, Cale, or maybe my old moniker, H-K 900."

Wow, I might just be going too far on that one...

"Aaaaaaaw..." Psycho13 moaned, "But I wanted to kill something!"

Sighing, he sheathed the new blades and wandered back into the base proper. According to the guys he was rooming with, apparently he'd get a chance to fight soon enough anyway. No need to rush things.

"At least now I can work on getting handles for these blades..." he muttered as he closed the hatch behind him, "Hey, you guys got any old rubber I could maybe melt down... Or some duct tape?"

((Even if this one loses speed, I still intened to finish at least Grey's Army's and the BWO's involvement.))

Kipland Durj stared out across Peregrine Island. It was chaos. Civvies were holed up inside their homes, terrified of the battle being waged across their neighborhoods.

Hell, even msts of the other villain groups were nowhere to be found, like the Rikti, Malta Group, and even the Nemesis Army. Too bad for that Crey sniper Kip watched faceplant in front of the Recluse's Victory Warzone recruiter. The Ballista started a bit, but otherwise did little to finish the criminal off. A nearby police drone did that.

"Hooooooo-boy! Did you see the distance I got on that!?" an energy blaster hero shouted as he got into Ghost Falcon's face, "I just kept hitting him as he sailed through the air! They should give me a badge for so much distance!"

"Good for you," Ghost Falcon muttered, "Have a cookie..."

"Pft..." the blaster moved on, muttering obscenities before getting sideswiped by a mess of Praetorian clockwork robots. Kip, Ghost Falcon, and a few other heroes rushed in to help the guy, but by the time they cleared the scrap metal away, the blaster was teleporting to the hospital with a lewd gesture for them all.

"I wish they'd screen them for some form of maturity before promoting their security levels," Ghost Falcon sighed, "I'm going back to my station if anybody is in need of my services."

A couple heroes followed him to make deals and dump off extra spells and devices and whatever else other heroes might find useful that they currently didn't. Kip, however, started making his way to Portal Corp.

With all of the insanity going on, they had to know something. A large contingent of Freedom Corps troops and U.S. military soldiers of all types currently had the Portal Corp courtyard blockaded and defended. Sandbag walls and collapsible aluminum towers were being set up wherever the eye could see, and Kip walked up tot he Ballista in charge of the preparations.

"Kipland Durj, Sec level-"

"Forget it, son," the Ballista interrupted him, "We've already sent our counter attack... We'll know soon enough whether or not they succeeded."

"Is that why I can't reach my boss?" the scrapper asked as he tried to shake off his red-tinged vision, "Was Randall Grey among the heroes sent?"

"I don't know, you'd have to talk to the Portal techs. Look, if you want to help out, help put up some walls or something, okay? Otherwise, just get out of the way."

"I can't blame him for being curt," Kip muttered as he made his way for Tina Macintyre, "But what an a-"

"Mr. Durj!" Tina called to him as he approached.

"You recognize me? I thought..."

"Communicator," she held up the device which showed his name to her, "I feel it usually saves time."

"So, what's going on here?"

"Simply put, the Praetorians are attacking. Just a few groups in the city proper, a couple massive armies in the danger zones except the Rikti Crash Site, Striga Isle, and Perez Park... The fairly obvious conflict in the first two is explanation enough, but we're still scratching our heads on why they haven't been able to push into Perez... Maybe it's the same reason they can't get through the southern region of Eastgate..."

"Makes sense," Kip shrugged, "The Circle always did try to lock down their territories, especially interdimensionally."

"Well, in any case, we've already launched our counterattack... Several groups of heroes have pushed to Praetorian Earth, and are currently working to shut down their 'portal tech,' which seems to be knock-off technology from us..."

"Lord knows how they got it," Kip just shook his head, "Think any of them out there need help? There's gotta be a few more heroes out here looking for more work to do..."

Suddenly, there was a deep bass sound. It was like a zipper being opened, followed by a rush of wind. Kip didn't have to turn around. He knew a dimensional vortex when he heard one.

"Let me guess... Somebody failed?"

Praetorians started falling out of the sky in the Portal Corp courtyard. Across the city, more of the same. A much alrger invasion had just started, and some of the city's most powerful heroes were nowhere to be found.

"Bloody... Bloody Hell..." Kip muttered before turning to the chaos in the middle of the courtyard, "Looks like it's time to start busting heads!"

Cedric and Matt looked to each other and shrugged.

"We're ready to go," Cedric stated with a smug grin and slammed his fist into his palm, "I can't wait to wail on those Arachnos!"

Matt hefted his katana (in its sheathe) and laid it across his knees. He gave a definitive nod to signify his willingness to get the job started.

Power Breaker woke up with his head literally buzzing. That was a new one. His nanites had saved a phone call message for him.

He was starting to get really concerned at the rate they continued to change and adapt. It wasn't like they ever did anything that intentionally hurt him (aside from the spikes jutting out of his shoulders), but they never gave him any warning when they did something. For instance, they were still translating the Malleus Mundi somewhere in his subconscious. Those were not fun nightmares.

"Greetings, brother," a gravelly voice vibrated off his inner ear, "My sources tell me there's something big going on. Something involving some of those people you told me about. Give me a ring, and we'll discuss methods in which we may assist their endeavors. They're going to need help."

Brother Mauthe.

Power Breaker grinned. His brain buzzed again, this time scanning the airwaves for any information dealing with whatever it is Mauthe was talking about. Too bad he was too late to hear the call for Heroes. However, what he did catch was a WSPDR snippet from Amanda Vines. She said something about a "spy" being taken into custody in Ghost Widow's Tower before being cut off by her co-anchor.

"Aw crap," Breaker muttered, "Too much of a coincidence. I'm gonna have to deal with this..."

Having showered, shaved and eaten breakfast all on "auto-pilot," he grabbed his clothes and started heading for the Giza. He had to talk to somebody in the know, somebody without any need for money, favors, or anything that could be classified as a "human need," and that somebody was a peculiar little Slot Machine...