TheSoviet

Famine nodded casually to the officer as War stuffed his money-filled duffel into a corner, paternally encouraging one of the soldiers there to guard it for 3% of the haul.

"And I already counted it six times!" He warned as he followed Famine out of the camp, "So don't be stupid!"

---

"Nice guys." Famine shrugged to his associate as they made their way down the street, watching the trans-dimensional soldiers go about their tasks and patrols while they calmly made their way down the street.

"I wonder if Pesty made these to spec." War sighed, almost bored as he tinkered with one of Pestilence's Gas Grenades. "I never know if I trust him the most of anyone or don't trust him at all."

"Pesty's good for it and we both know it. You remember the Siege of Khost."

"How could I forget? That was the most fun I had in Afghanistan."

"Mujahideen backed by PRC Commandoes with [censored] RPO-A Fuel Air missiles blew up our evac plane and Overwatch had to come in there with his personal Blackwater Grizzly and soak three RPGs while you took your sweet [censored] time mini-gunning down a village's worth of insurgents, you [censored]! I paid to get his armor plates refitted!"

"Overwatch never liked you anyway. Besides, that was kick [censored], man! I mean come on, I shot down that Z-5 chopper while we were booking it out of there!"

"Okay, so that part was alright." Famine muttered as they stepped into the bar. "Of course, you forget that the only reason they even came after us was after I collapsed a mountain on them with that improvised seismic charge."

"Dude!" War groaned, raising his hand to the bartender and then pointing at a random bottle on the wall. "You didn't collapse the mountain, okay, you just shook everything up!"

"War, they had to send in more surveyors to re-examine the entire region, man! I changed the entire theater of war..."

"...Still wasn't as cool as me..." War pouted as Famine signaled for his drink from a different random bottle.

"So what do you think of this deal?"

"What, the bar?"

"No, jackass, working against our own dimension."

"Dude, the only ties we've consistently kept are with the Horseman Organization, the Angels of Death, and the government of Libya over Jebel Akhdar... And we already called sovereignty there."

"War, shh." Famine urged. "I don't know if I trust these guys yet."

"So what?" War shrugged. "If they want to besiege Fortress Ragnarok, then let them. I'm itching to try out that strategic nuke we bought from Russia, anyways..."

War and Famine looked at each other. Could they possibly do this? Could they be this heinous?

Could they betray their entire world to extra-dimensional super Nazis?

"No it shouldn't be a big issue." Famine shrugged. "When the attack begins let us get in contact with the rest of our associates so that we can keep them out of the line of fire and we can do it."

"Now you know," War continued for Famine, "Since we're betraying our home dimension and all, our price just jumped a few figures, seeing as how our old money's gonna be all useless and such once you introduce yours."

"And we call sovereignty over our base of operations and its surrounding countryside." Famine added on, almost as an afterthought. "If you can meet all our qualifications, and let us rely on a couple of backdoor exit plans to make sure you don't do the whole 'They finished the job, now execute them' plan, then we can go ahead and start transmitting Earth Prime defense information over from our data cache to you guys..."

"I am Famine, Commander."

At this time, War had made his way into the room.

"...And this is my associate, War. We are members of a society known to most from where we come from as the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. We handle what you might call 'dirty work' for something of a fee, although I'd be willing to negotiate a trade thanks to certain very special circumstances my comrade and I find ourselves in."

War shifted the duffel bag of money on his shoulder, his de-activated energy blade's hilts clacking against his tactical belt as he did so. War was even more overtly ready for combat, with two Impervium Falcatas in an X across his back, an IMI Micro-Uzi on his thigh, an SAF SMG across his chest, a custom 1911 in a leg holster, the currently inert energy blades, and several of Pestilence's Mustard Gas Grenades, all over a blood-red and black Combat Exoskeleton Armor.

"My associate and I are willing to go to any length to complete our objectives, but only if you're willing to meet a very specific term of ours..."

"...We need to get home. And not just home like a helicopter ride..."

"...We're gonna need Dimensional Technology."

"War, you're clear up here. Yeah, bring the cash. No, we're good. I just got us some work to do while we're in town."

Famine first glanced up at Toy Dispenser. "Toy, yeah? I think we both did some work for the Malta Operatives once. You, uh, get some work done?"

Famine showed only a casual interest in whatever the Nazis were on about; until they gave him direct orders, he'd just wait for them.

Famine blinked. It DID work.

"I, my friends, am known as Famine. Bleak Famine. I am a demolitions specialist dedicated in tactical scale nuclear warfare and siege operations. I supply all of my own equipment and am willing to cooperate with local forces or engage as an independent. I am what is colloquially known as a Mercenary..."

Famine didn't even know where he was going with this. What if they accepted him? It's not like he could just up and say he was from another dimension. And if they didn't? It would be a lot harder getting home - with the loot - than before.

This is what he got for speaking without planning.

"I also have an associate with me who has been trained in tandem operations with me for our entire adult lives. And we'd be willing to negotiate a job for a trade of sorts..."

((My sweet god my post was pitiful. I almost feel bad for it.))

"Just...Me?" Famine asked, raising a brow. "Nah, man, I'm no cyborg if that's what you're implicatin'."

The Mercenary completely holstered his SMG.

"I'm here to apply for a job." He announced triumphantly.

((Rezyin has now retconned into having taken a defensive stance only.))

Rezyin swung his sword once around to show his readiness before following Solid and the Girl.

---

War wrapped his arms closer around himself, his falcatas laying against the wall next to him.

"Hate this damn nighttime planet damn nazis with their damn helicopters and this damn money and damn Famine taking forever. Dammit."

---

Famine shifted uneasily. He couldn't really get in there with those guards in place. But then, he didn't know where else to go.

Realizing that this had no hope of working and he was going to have to fall back, Famine calmly stepped into the light of the flames.

"What happened here?"

((Your connection to the server has timed out. Try again?))

Rezyin shrugged to Solid. "Have no idea where they have gone my comrade. Now where is this man I am needing to get?"

As Isabel came around the corner with her hand raised, her explanation was cut off rather suddenly by the fact that, unlike her, when Rezyin was surprised by strange faces raising their arms in aggression in a hostile environment, he didn't hesitate. The very second she raised her hand in the preliminaries of an attack, the Swordsman blasted towards her, swinging his blade widely.

---

The Horsemen had now gotten a considerable distance away from the rest of the group, and were within enough distance of the huge burning building to be bathed lightly in an orange glow.

"If we're getting out of here we gotta find another portal, War." Famine grunted as he hefted their loot behind a low fence. "Tell you what, you stay here and guard the money, and I'll go find out what the flying [censored] we're dealing with and just how screwed we are."

War only nodded in response, and Famine was off, skulking through the night to determine just what was so important about this burning building.

Oh, I can assure you with the utmost certainty, although relatively few of my villains are outright evil, not a single one of the characters that I enjoy playing regularly is in any way ignorant to the fact that they are willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish their goal at the time.

"SO CLOSE!" War had yelled the second before the brilliant light had overtaken the pair of Mercenaries, sending them twisting through time and space...

Rezyin had seen the light coming too and boosted away, but he was sucked in along with his quarry.

---

Solid heard a slight tapping on the wall a few steps behind him, safely out of range of any sort of electric burst he may have ready to deter the sneakier sort of foe. But this wasn't some Axis America soldier - It was Rezyin, gently letting his comrade know that he was there, too.

War and Famine had bolted the very second they had arrived, noticing only momentarily the military banners adorning the streets before disappearing into the darkness as fast as they could...

((Freem.))

"Why you do this!" War yelled, but a mere hole wasn't going to stop them. The metabolically enhanced Mercs simply lunged over the hole in the street, not even slowing down as they continued their escape. The grenade would have presented a more significant problem.

If Famine wasn't always prepared to deal with just such an inconvenience.

Again without even breaking his stride, Famine flash-froze the grenade with his standard side-carry Cryo Pistol, and the two mercs continued on.

Rezyin had a slightly bigger problem. The delay caused by Famine's freezing of the grenade caused it to explode right underneath him as he flew over it.

The Spetsnaz careened into the ground, trailing a thick, slimy mixture of healing chemicals and blood behind him. It felt to the Russian like days before his heart started again, but thanks to his intense chemical injections it was only seconds. Unfortunately by this time he had completely lost sight of the Horsemen.

However, he saw another priority. A Metahuman on the roof...With a man in gray. Now was his time to find out what had happened.

Kick starting his miraculously intact Rocket Boots, Rezyin slowly, cautiously ascended until he was level with the two men.

"What is happening here?"

"Oh holiest God, Yaweh, Allah, Shiva, Baal, Mother Nature, Buddha, Mephisto, Cthulhu, I know that I have not been the most devout of worshippers." Famine began to pray.

"WE ARE GOING TO [censored] DIE!" War was screaming, scrambling around the wrecked tank interior.

"But out of all of the times I have prayed to one of you, and some of the times I've prayed to some other deities, I could really, honestly use your help. Just this once."

The tank nailed a parked car, sending War to the floor of the cabin. Rezyin clung on to the back for dear life.

"I mean it's totally cool whoever decides to help. But whoever you are...I'd love it if the decision was quick."

"THIS IS WHAT LOSING THE GAME FEELS LIKE! OH MY GOD THE LOOT, THE LOOT IS EVERYWHERE!" War sobbed, crawling over the precious bank heist money.

"Because just this one, single time." Famine closed his eyes tightly.

"I don't think Nyarlathotep is enough."

The tank ground to a sudden, circling turn, smoke belching out of the crippled War Machine.

War quietly looked out of the hole in the tank to where one of his swords, through nothing short of a miracle, had lodged itself perfectly in the treads, the insanely, massively strong alloy effectively locking that half of the drive system in place.

The Mercenaries were alive.

"THANK YOU!" Famine yelled joyously, pushing War and the money out of the hole as fast as he could. Both mercs took off on foot, trying to flee the battle scene.

Rezyin smiled. NOW was his chance.

The Swordsman jumped from the spinning tank, boosters igniting as he viciously closed the distance with the swordsmen, even the painful impact of both lines of fire striking him not slowing him down.

"COMPANY!" War yelled, turning his head only for a moment before taking off at one of the Mercenaries' famous Escape Sprints.

Unfortunately, the Mercs were in the dead middle of everyone at this point, fleeing at haste, and chances were, this would get in someone's way.

Famine hadn't quite gotten in the tank when the missile went streaking into the top hatch, sending shreds of bodies and equipment in a spray over his head.

"..."

Famine first tossed his loot bag inside the tank, then jumped in himself. Quickly making his way to the controls for the .50, he began to spray fire in a direct line in front of him. War had, by this point, reached the tank as well, and was worming his way in through the hole and closing the hatch above him when Famine found the pilot's controls.

"War, take the .50! We are LEAVING!"

The Nuclear Horseman jammed what was left of the throttle forward and the tank lurched ahead, tearing forward...

...Towards the portal. Famine yanked the control joystick

"Controls are JAMMED!"

"Periscope is [censored] bro, and I'm not sticking my head out of here!" War yelled back at him, panic in his voice.

"Oh dear god." Famine sighed. "HOLD ON TIGHT!"

---

Rezyin snarled, finally being forced into action.

"You are not escaping on MY watch, Axis America or no!" He growled to himself, igniting his rocket boots once again. Zipping forward through the gunfire (taking it in relative stride, as Rezyin was often known for) Rezyin rapidly closed the distance with the tank. Unfortunately, this made him a prime target for everyone with a gun pointed in that general direction, and the Hero was quickly losing blood too fast for his body to reseal itself. To this end, rocketed forward and clung to the tank desperately, the turret blocking a large portion of incoming fire.

Two Mercs and a hero now roared towards the portal in a gigantic, unturning deathtrap, spraying .50cal fire ahead of them.

"I'm pretty sure we need to upgun these [censored]." War yelled over the din, noting the fact that the Mercs were almost wasted by that rocket trooper.

"Finally, we're talking my style!"

Famine and War had, by this point, reached the concrete barrier and slid against it, shielding themselves from everything but high explosives. Famine didn't have his usual high-tech personal armory with him - After all, this was supposed to have been a robbery. That didn't mean he lacked anything that could turn this fight around, however.

He still had his bandolier.

"War!" He yelled to his comrade, who looked over from where he had been trying to draw his swords out of their awkward back scabbards without getting his hands shot off. "War! I'm going for a forced breach on that tank!! We gotta get out of here man, this heist was too big! Keep the skinheads distracted or something!!"

"Now we're getting somewhere." His comrade grinned, scraping some caked blood off of one of his blades.

War suddenly and unceremoniously scrambled out of his cover, exposing himself to the withering fire his enemies were pouring at him.

"Gonnadiegonnadiegonnadiegonnadie!" He chanted to himself in a twisted madness mantra as his bones literally began to fracture from the expended kinetic force from the mass drivers against his armor. This didn't stop him from closing distance with the Axis America troops in a record-breaking sprint, immediately bringing his swords together into one of the grunts who had been back-pedaling away from him and using what was left of the man as a slightly more effective shield, all the while getting closer and closer to the assembled army...

Meanwhile, Famine was in his own mad dash, sprinting frantically through incoming fire (And narrowly dodging an Axis America rocket by rolling under it, dropping about twenty grand as he did so.) As he rapidly closed the distance with the tank, he slammed a Magnetic Mine on the access hatch, tearing the thing apart. In an instant Famine was trying to scramble inside the tank. If he made it, he'd move the Pilot's corpse and try and figure out enough of the controls to get the hell out of there.

Rezyin saw his chance.

But then he heard something. Russian? There was no way. He pressed closer to the ground in the warehouse, trying to distinguish his native tongue again...

"Whooooooo and it's GO TIME!" War yelled over his shoulder to Famine, who had just slapped in a fresh mag.

"BACK TO BACK! I SWEAR I'VE SEEN THIS A THOUSAND TIMES BEFORE IN A GAME, MAN!" War yelled as he slammed in his custom quadruple drum 200 Round Mag into his heavily modified SMG, the weapon more than ready to take the sustained firing. "BANZAI!"

Both Mercenaries were of the 'Shoot first, ask how many you got later' style of thinking, and that showed rather glaringly as both men began to perforate the surrounding area with catastrophic automatic fire, all the while slowly rotating in a circle and stepping towards a concrete roadblock to hide behind. Thanks to their nigh-cheating Forward Ballistics Reinforcements, both Mercenaries were taking shots in stride, not even slowing down as bullets ricocheted and pinged off of them.

Rezyin, meanwhile, had hidden himself in a nearby warehouse, waiting for one of the Horsemen to expose himself.

After all, the mission came first. Damage control could wait.

((This smells like a Non-Sequitur intro waiting to be.)

King's Row has never been Paragon's most glorious neighborhood. Amongst the Clockwork and Skulls, your average blue collar Paragon Joes eke out their existence, day in, day out. This wasn't a town that had a high money-to-person ratio.

But it had a lot of people.

---
King's Row Bank

"EVERYBODY ON THE [censored] GROUND! NOBODY HAS TO DIE TODAY!" Was the sudden cry as what had previously looked like a cautious private security guard suddenly turned into a violent gunman. The man had his hands on a FAMAE SAF, and the bulk of his jacket indicated some sort of ballistics armor underneath. "OPEN THE VAULT!" He screamed at a guard.

"I...I can't! It's not pickup time!"

"[censored] WORTHLESS!" The man screamed again, tearing into the back rooms on the bank.

The guard tripped the silent alarm...

---

"Want something done RIGHT..."

"You have to do it YOURSELF!"

Sirens. Tires squealing.

A Metahuman warming up a fireball.

"Always fire." The gunman grinned to himself, shedding his outer jacket and balaclava.

"Bleak Famine! You are under arrest for Assault with intent to Rob! Put your gun down, you Marauder!" Came the triumphant cry of the fiery hero down the hall, flanked by Paragon SWAT.

"Marauder? I like that. Shame about what's gonna happen to you, huh?"

The heroes eyes widened for a split second.

He just realized that he was standing underneath a rather massive cluster of C-4.

"Bye."

---

War heard the explosion. Hell, he saw the explosion. He was late! But thanks to Famine's careful placement, that wouldn't be changing anything.

---

Famine stepped to the side of the gigantic hole in the wall he had just created "FHA FOR LIFE! YEEEHA!" He cackled happily as War suddenly came tearing through the bank on a Suzuki Hayabusa GSX1300R, screeching to a stop just long enough for Famine to hop on the back with 7.3Mil$ U.S.

The two shot out of the bank like a rocket, fast headed northbound for their escape chopper in Galaxy City...

---

The contract Chinook pilot frowned. Those goons were supposed to be back with the money by now! They'd made him keep the engine on and everything...

He suddenly heard the roar of War's supercharged bike in his headset.

"OPEN THE RAMP!"

Never one to question payday, the pilot did so.

At this point and time, the Mercenary Helo was situated in such a way that it was facing directly perpendicular to one of Galaxy City's trademark Warehouse Rows. The warehouses were underneath a roadway.

A roadway now occupied by a pair of bank robbers.

And one certain metahuman.

"In the name of the law, STOP!" Operative Rezyin, Hero On Loan, yelled to the two Mercenaries.

Of course, the Horsemen had no such intent. War suddenly kicked back into a wheelie, almost sending Famine off the bike as he did so. War veered to the right and sent his bike barreling off of the thoroughfare onto the warehouse roof below him. Ramping off of the crest of that one, War began to make his way across the rooftops of Galaxy at about 80 M.P.H.

It was at this time that the Axis America Rocket noticed the Chinook. Assuming incorrectly that the Marines had already arrived to interdict them, he did what was expected of him.

He fired.

The Pilot was a bit occupied in keeping his helo steady as War raced for the loading ramp.

---

"Oh, [censored]." War frowned grimly as the front half of his escape helicopter exploded brilliantly.

"FAMINE BUDDY HOLD ON!"

"What?" Famine hadn't been watching. He'd been spraying back at the rapidly pursuing Rezyin with his SAF, failing to keep a proper bead on the Rocket-boot equipped meta long enough to overcome his regenerative skills.

War gunned it.

For one instant, to the Horseman time stood still.

"OOOOOOH"

War's bike left the roof for the final time.

"MYYYYYYYY"

The bike made contact with the Chinook's floorplate.

"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!"

War's bike shot out of the front of the exploding helicopter, doing a backflip. The Axis Rocket trooper, who had been staring at the insane spectacle the entire time, couldn't even bring himself to move as War brought the bike down on top of him, slowing the careening deathtrap just enough so that he and Famine could dive off into two more of the Nazi soldiers as the bike slammed into a concrete wall and exploded hellishly, sending debris all around.

War and Famine, nursing more than a few broken bones, scrambled to their feet and went back to Money Bag to back, SMGs drawn, but holding fire, seeing what they'd landed in first.

Rezyin hung back a ways, observing what the two robbers had just led him into.

"Is...Impossible..."

((Danny has some rather impressive defenses.))

War continued swinging without so much as a second thought, his gloves and boots both insulated (obviously for metacombat just like this.)

Brushstalker blasted at both Alyssa and Acid again and again in turn, his Focusing Lens acting as the font of seemingly endless power.

----

Death grunted in surprise, lifted up just as he was lining up a final incendiary shot to silence Alyssa permanently. Deftly dropping his rifle and reaching into his belt in one motion, the Assassin suddenly stabbed backwards with a clip-point bladed knife in a reverse grip, the blade coated in a deadly potassium cyanide.

Unfortunately for Danny, despite the fact that War lacked precognition he still had common sense. As soon as the explosive arrows flew the Swordsman exploded in a blooming cloud of...blood? Indeed, it looked like a red haze fast approaching the little archer. As soon as melee distance had been reached, the bloodport ended, and War formed back into his lunatic self a mere four feet from the archer, blades swinging forward.

Brushstalker, in the meantime, had deftly leaped to his feet. The motion of bringing himself back up made it impossible to block the thorns flying at him, and he hissed as several made it completely past his armor, injecting him with their poison. His suit immediately began administering an antidote, however, and after a moment collecting himself, the Bane lowered his mace to a firing position.

"Let's see how you like this!" He yelled to Alyssa and Acid, a conical blast of energy beams lancing out of the tip of his Powered Mace's focusing lens. The bolts of energy packed a rather significant kinetic punch, and if either the lizardman or the plantwoman were hindered by the blast in any way, he'd be following up with a Mace Beam Blast.

Down the hall, the unseen sniper wasn't so much as grazed by the arrows. After all, Danny only knew that he was somewhere in the hall. Lining up again, the assassin loaded an incendiary round into his WA2000 and took a steady aim at Alyssa, making sure to compensate for the Bane's knockback if need be. Having gone so far as to adjust his shot for the blowing of the fans, he let it fly at Alyssa's center mass, almost guaranteeing a hit.

((There is no gunslinger down the hall, and this gas isn't incapacitating. It's doing direct damage..))

The Gunslingers in the hallway had ported out long before Danny had even finished his sentence.

Within the next second several things happened.

One of these things was a silenced sniper shot ripping through the air from a very specific Walther WA2000 in .300 Winchester Magnum. Fired from the far end of the hallway, the heavy round blasted through the air towards Alyssa's head without so much as a hostile taunt.

Another of these things was a hostile taunt, from a completely different source.

"HAHAHAHA WHOOOO!" The Raging War yelled as he kicked open a nearby cabin door. "I'VE BEEN WAITING TO BLAST YOUR [censored] BACK TO PRESCHOOL EVER SINCE PORTAL CORP, KIDDY!" He roared towards Danny, reaching behind his head and swinging out two Impervium Falcatas. "YEAH [censored] YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE WHO HAD NEAT TOYS? DID YA? I'D LIKE TO WELCOME YOU TO REALITY!"

War shifted back to a defensive stance before breaking out in a run towards Danny, swinging his blades wildly and hopefully severing the arrows he thought to be fast approaching.

Another thing that happened was the sudden decloaking of one very confident Arachnos Bane Spider, Operative Brushstalker, right next to Alyssa, completely ignoring the gas washing around him thanks to his Arachnos helmet.

"Ah, you'd be a fine trophy!" He hissed before swinging his Power Mace at her in a sideways bash on the off chance that the hidden sniper had missed his opening shot.

The last thing that happened was the sudden chemical charge that dropped out of the ceiling, loaded up with a Saxitoxin bomb that exploded immediately upon hitting the floor.

Acid heard behind him the reports of a series of teleporting Gunslingers. A familiar voice drawled, "Ah didn' think it'd be that easy..." Fewer teleports followed, indicating that a couple of Designated Marksmen had stayed behind to guard the radio room, most likely taking some sort of cover as to not give themselves away.

A set of headphones closest to Alyssa crackled to life. It sounded like a different ship was maintaining contact with the Naiad, and the tone was casual.

And someone was answering back.

The room, save for Alyssa, Danny, Acid, and Henteko, was completely empty.

Behind them, the reinforced door slammed shut violently and unceremoniously, the sound of heavy bolts slamming into their slots echoing around the room. A thick cloud of Kolokol-1 quickly began to flood the room from multiple vents, the fast-acting knockout gas fogging up the room in seconds. A low, barely noticeable humming began as well.

"Ah, thanks for making it easy." 'Mister Dune's' voice came from a rather out of place loudspeaker in the middle of the room. "You have to understand that I can't have you all getting in our way. You've probably noticed by now that this entire room has been rerouted to a secondary location, staffed by my capable radiomen. Don't worry, we'll keep the ship safe and sound. You won't be needed anymore. Trying to escape would be a bad idea here - you may need the energy you have left to fight off the Kolokol. You wouldn't get anywhere, anyway. All it took was one observant villain in a mayhem mission to rip a PPD Jail Cell Power Suppressor right out of the wall. Acid, I'm sorry you had to get caught up in all this, but you knew the risks when you helped them here. It's nothing personal, really."

"Well, the suppression is personal, because I know you have that phase-port that we've had so much trouble with in the past."

"Have fun. I've business elsewhere."

((Back, lol. Hey, I didn't send Malta out to intercept you guys...))

The Malta Operatives that had accidentally intercepted the heroes beat a hasty retreat. They didn't need to run into the group at this stage, and damned if they would.

The heavily reinforced door in front of the group had somehow become unlocked during the brief surprise.

"Go." Death stated simply, his invisible hand grabbing the card. The card disappeared in a hidden pocket and the two could hear Death shambling down the hall back to the cargo containers.

---

As Danny screamed down the hall, he'd find the door to the radio room completely unguarded.

It was, however, locked.