The Millennium Paladin Chronicles

“Eh, sounds serious…” Cal responds to Servant, “…hope I ain’t fire. I’m still workin’ on that work visa.” Another round of laughter follows Cal’s comment, but then in all seriousness he responds “Be there before ye know it. Out here, Boss.” Looking down at the Zeus, Cal starts picking his way through, finally decides he’s got no clue what Servant wants, and picks up the beast of a machine in its entirety. “This should make ‘em happy.”, then heads off at tremendous speeds towards Tannan Industries.

Once he gets to the building, carrying the Zeus, Cal grunts and with Force of Will alone flies to the top of the building. “If’n I keep this up, I’ll be shootin’ laser beams outta me eyes...” Cal muses to himself, and sets the Zeus down beside him.

Being the first of the three to make it to the designated meeting spot, Cal simply sits atop his conquest, and waits for the others to show up. From his view he can spot the various statues spotted along Paragon City’s skyline, and thinks to himself *One day, I’ll be one o’ these statues, and if’n I am descended from CuChulainn he’ll be proud*

Henry flies toward Mykal's building, a temporary meeting place until their headquarters are constructed. As he approaches, he sees the massive frame of Caladbolg sitting atop the even more massive frame of some metal monstrosity.

Slowing himself for the landing, Henry extinguishes his aura. "Hey there, big man; long time no see. I know I've missed a lot these past months, but hopefully I can make up for lost time."

Henry motions to the severely damaged robot. "Interesting chair you've got there... how'd you get it up here?"

"I flew up here..." Cal says as easily as if he took the elevator. Grinning at Scion, the big man shrugs his massive shoulders, "Ye go through lifes changes, and 'fore ye know it yer flyin around some like bird..." running a hand through his hair, Cal adds "...or a jet if yer me."

Patting the Zeus, Cal continues "This here monstrosity o' metal is called a Zeus Titan. It's when two o' the little Hercules Titans merge. They get pretty tough, but aint so tough that I can't give it a go. I was figurin' I needed ta bring some pieces back fer Servant, but I'll be damned if'n I know which pieces... so I brought back the whole bloody mess."

"Aye, ye've missed quite a bit, lad, but nothin' that couldn't been handled." the Irishman returns to his friend he hasn't seen in some time. "People need ta go figurin' themselves out sometimes. Ain't nothin' we can do 'bout it, but wait fer 'em ta come back." Looking back towards the skies, Cal adds "A friend o' mine used ta say 'May ye never forget what is worth rememberi', or remember what is best forgotten.'..." after a moment of quiet comtenmplation, "...or some bloody crap like that. Eh, any way, its good ta be seein' ya back, Brother."

Mykal ran through one last check of his suit and equipment then re-entered the elevator. For all intents and purposes, it could not go upwards any further. But when he had bought the building, he'd made some changes with the help of some close friends he could trust. As the elevators doors closed softly, he punched in a combination sequence on his right UGD-1. The top of the elevator slid back as did an opening in the roof of the building, less than five feet of space separating the two.

Switching to his left UGD-1, he punched a key. Instantly, his atoms were rearranged and reassembled far above the Tannan Industries building. Floating momentarily, he saw Henry and Cal, who was sitting on some dismanlted robot he asumed was the Zeus Titan. The side effects of the teleportation didn't effect him at all anymore. His adeptness at using the technology was surprising even to him.

Punching the key again, he instantly appeared between Cal and Henry.

"Paladins," he said with a soft salute.

Turning to Henry, he walked over to him, pausing for a moment, them embraced him.

"It's good to have ya back brother," he whispered in his ear.

With a gentle smile plastered on his face, he pulled back and turned to Cal, looking over the Titan wreckage.

"You know, just a couple parts would have been fine. You really didn't need to bring the whole thing."

Looking at the mess once more, it drove home the extra work it would take just to dismantle it to fit it in the lab.

"You really didn't"

"Aye, and I didnae hafta beat the tar outta the thing either, but it's part o' what I do, eh?" The big man replies to Servant, and glances back towards Scion "So Bro, what ya been up to? Tipsy at the pub? Kickin' some fellons in the bollocks? Spendin' yer time with someone prettier, and longer hair than the likes o' us?"

Mykal smiled.

"Before you answer that, I want to tell you why I called us together. Actually, it's twofold. First, I want to apologize. I got caught up in the whole severity of our calling that I lost sight of my position in it which was to serve you."

Mykal looked at both of them.

"Please forgive me."

He paused, letting the burden leave him. A wave of relief was released as he exhaled deeply.

"Secondly," he said, looking poignantly at Henry. "I understand that your absence was unplanned and that you went through a personal trying time in your life. However, your circumstances did not necessitate the total abandonment of your responsibilities. You agreed to uphold our standards, our code, and take on the responsibility as a leader."

He paused, letting the gravity of the situation sink in.

"Effective now, you are demoted to knight. Your position as one of The Twelve cannot be rescinded since you have been chosen by the Almighty Himself. But to serve as a leader within The Twelve is an honor and a privilege and one that cannot be taken lightly."

The roof was silent.

"But I'm sure that this temporary hiatus will only make you better and you'll be back in no time."

He smiled and put his hand on Henry's shoulder.

"Of that I'm confident."

"I expected no less, and I find no fault in your decision. I have shown a tendency for unreliability for most of the time we've known each other, thanks to the scheming of Avalon. But I am through with Avalon, and it is apparently through with me. I once was able to prove myself to you, and I will do so again."

Turning to Cal, he shrugs. "I've been in my apartment in Steel Canyon. I've alternated between watching television, eating pizza and feeling sorry for myself. It's best if I start from the beginning."

Henry fills in the Paladins regarding his dealings with Avalon, leaving out no detail.

"So... anyone have enough pull with City Hall to get my name changed? It feels like I'm wearing a fool's costume whenever someone refers to me as the Scion of Avalon now."

Mykal stared at Henry after listening intently to his story.

"Something's not right with that story," he said, beginning to press keys on his left UGD-1. "Though you were used as a pawn in your aunt's schemes, this Nimue can have no claim to Avalon unless....I've often wondered about your title. Scion Of Avalon."

He looked down at the small screen on his gauntlet which began to display information. He scrolled through and read as he continued.

"Avalon is a place, not a person. The definition of Scion is a descendant. Your former abilities of being able to manipulate the weather lined up with that self-same title. From what you've said, it appears as if you've rechanneled the energy to perform different things but it still involves the elements. The fire that you can summon now as a sheath around you is proof positive of that."

Mykal raised his gauntlet closer to his face.

"Hmm."

Mykal looked at Henry, pensiveness etched into his face.

"I believe it was all a ruse to keep you blind to the actual truth."

Lord, this is hard. Give me the tact and the gentleness to tell him the real truth in what You've given to me in Your wisdom.

He sighed heavily, preparing himself before he continued.

"Morgan is not your aunt...and King Arthur is not your father."

...not your father... The words echo in Henry's mind, filling him with a righteous fury. The air around him begins to swirl and heat, quickly reaching a suffocating swelter. His eyes narrow and his lips thin, his mouth barely moves when he speaks.

"Tread lightly, Mykal; I know you mean well, but to challenge my lineage is an insult of the highest order. Keep in mind 2 things as you explain yourself: Scion also means 'heir' and was applied in that regard, and unless you wish to adopt the 5 point elemental model of the old ways and accept it as spiritual energy, the light of Avalon which I once wielded does not fall within the realm of elements. Also, Nimue is the second most powerful of the Queens, and if she had somehow managed to seal Morgain away it would be trivial for her to assume control."

Passing leaves are drawn into the vortex of blistering currents surrounding Henry and incinerated in their last brilliant moment of existence, ash beginning to show the outline of his twisting, airy aura.

"So much has been revealed to me, of late-- so much taken away-- and now you wish to strip me of my name-- my very flesh and blood! I will listen to your words, brother, but tread lightly; my last revelation sent me on a quest for death and death I nearly found. Death no longer pulls at me, but my lust for life may be as dangerous. I am unstable, Mykal... tread lightly..."

Henry's eyes disappear behind a flood of steam, angry tears welling up and evaporating as rapidly as they appear. The air around him calms, leaving a ring of soot around his feet. The steam pouring from his eyes is replaced by sanguine flames as his face sets in an inhuman passiveness not seen since he first arrived in England. Henry folds his arms and stands motionless, his chest no longer rising and falling in respiration.

"I am prepared to hear your theory, Servant 12."

Watching as the drama begins to play out, Cal covers a small smirk at Servants words, and thinks *Eh, Boss, good way o' dealin' wit' people. Next thing ye know ye'll be tellin' me I'm some kind o' alien or somethin'..*

Of course Scion's response is even more dramatic, and Cal rolls off the Zues parts as the flames rear up, "Christ Scion!!.." Cal roars, "...watch where yer shootin' yer crisper. I ain't much o' mind ta be fire blasted, and fixin' meself up." For the most part the words are said in jest in an attempt to alleviate the tension, but whether it works or not is undecided.

Dusting himself off from ashes, and a few singed hairs, Cal rumbles "Aye Boss, whaddya mean he ain't no son o' Arthur? I met some wierd dark version o' him when I went after his trapped carcass not too long ago. This place o' mists was pretty bloody well like I'd expect the Mists o' Avalon ta be like."

Mykal sighed in preparation.

"I know this seems like a slap in the face but hear me out."

He tapped a few keys on his gauntlet.

"Glastonbury is identified as the ancient and mysterious Isle of Avalon where King Arthur was taken to be healed of his fatal battle wounds at the Battle of Camlan. He ruled Camelot. Now, it's said that Avalon is the otherworld home of one of the Celtic underworld immortals, Afallach who is said to have ruled Avalon. Normally, to be an heir, you must have the right through bloodline."

Mykal paused.

Help me out here Lord. I don't want him to be hurt any more than what he is.

"Now unless you've forgotten to mention this and I'm just going on an unnecessary rabbit trail, how could you be a scion of Avalon and heir unless your relatives are rulers in Avalon? Arthur was not a ruler of Avalon... he was a citizen. His rulership was Camelot."

He paused again, gauging Henry's reaction.

Lion Hart sighed as he walked into his apartment on the fourth story, recollecting the earlier events of the day. How long could he keep up the act? When would his dark nature reveal itself? Truth of the matter is he wasn't the wise cracking person he acted like, no he was a tramatized child, a victim. He hung up his costume and went to bed.

Henry sighs heavily as the flames from his eyes die down. He sits back down heavily as he regains a more relaxed composure.

"This is all rather silly. Firstly, Glastonbury was mistakenly identified as Avalon. In reality, there was a portal there for those sensitive enough to find it which lead to Avalon, but the actual physical place is known now as Bardsey."

He cracks his neck as he continues, allowing the tension to dissipate from his shoulders. He looks tired and a bit annoyed as he continues.

"Secondly, I'm a bit insulted that you would even insinuate that I must be descended from that haughty godling, Afallach. His destruction at the hands of his daughters was what saved the Isle itself from the wrath of the One God. He thought to challenge for the souls of departed Celts, but the Sisters saw with clearer eyes. When reasoning with him failed, they had little choice but to gather their power with Morgain and obliterate him. This happened not too long after I was born-- perhaps 2 years at most-- but that is an event which burns its import into even the youngest of minds."

"Furthermore, I am not, nor have I ever been, scion to the royal family of Avalon. I was the scion of the power of the Isle itself-- the essential power of the place. Conceived when Avalon was still at the height of its power, I was somehow changed by it-- I was born with an unparalleled command of it in its raw form. Others could learn to shape the magic to accomplish their ends, but I could tap the font directly. Had something happened to the Queens and the Sisters, I would have been the only one who could touch it, and so I was declared its scion and protector. The entirety of the fey races on the Isle could have been exterminated, but as long as I was there the magic would continue to exist."

Running his fingers through his hair, a wry smile finds his lips.

"It could be that I do have a distant blood claim to the throne, though," he says as he reveals his ears for the first time-- ears with a very slight upsweep. "Mother had a bit of the fey in her; it may even have facilitated my link to the land."

Letting the hair fall back in place, Henry stands and clasps his hands behind his back.

"Now I need to know, Mykal; why this questioning? Silly historical inaccuracies aside, surely you had some point to this other than making me angry, and I'd really like to hear it."

Sam could hear the blood pounding in his ears. The terror that filled is very being, he was 9 and back in maryland his home. 8 years ago he had lost his parents and now... his fate was unraveling. Slowly he edged along the dark hallway towards his sisters room, he faintly heard scuttling but paid no notice. His sisters voice was all he heard, she who had been his only family member only contact... only friend. He pushed open his sister's door and upon absorbing the sight expirenced complete numbness of body and mind. On the floor was the bloody corpse of the only source of care and maternal love Sam had and would ever know. In that instant Sam fate was irrepairably changed. The mystical imprint on his soul of a warrior lost to history awakened from dormancy and the sweeping darkness of the netherworld encompassed him taking him away from the room that would enternally be echted in his memory. And thus Lion Hart was born.

Mykal's face went stolid.

O.K. Bad guess on my part Lord. Help me communicate what I sense Your spirit is telling me.

"My intent was not to make you angry but there are many missing pieces to the story that you told. Things are not adding up. For example, how were you conceived in a place that is for people who don't conceive anymore because they are dead ostensibly? How is Nimue simply able to keep you out of Avalon and arbitrarily pick a new heir if you are so powerful? And why is there this veiled disdain for men she has? Hasn't she locked Merlin away and betrayed him? How is Avalon better off?"

Mykal's faced soured more.

"Why was the Circle Of Thorns interested in working with Morgan Le Fey? And, even though I've only done a cursory study of Celtic lore, the question that keeps coming up in my head over and over is...where is the primary High Man of Avalon? Where is Nudd?"

Mykal paused.

"Something else is going on here and I think this goes beyond just you Henry though it's started there. This has something to do with The Twelve. I'm just not sure exactly how yet."

Mykal stared off for a few moments, silence weighing down the air. Then, he turned to both of his friends.

"I think we should plan a trip there and find out exactly what's going on in Avalon."

Buzz Cut burst into his highrise penthouse, peeling off his costume as he went. The carbon-fiber laced rubber smacked loudly on his hardwood floor as he tossed his mask to the ground. Fiddling with his belt with one hand, he raised his cellphone to his ear, as he pressed the speed dial 1 with a casual gesture.

Tom! I've been waiting for your call, you said you'd get right back to me! His Allcore Technologies handler, Maurice Shelus sounded worried.

"Relax M, everything's cool. I did just what all the bigwigs at corporate wanted, got a nice supergroup membership."

You went and signed up already? Blast it all, Tom. You were supposed to let me know about them, let me check them out first. I don't even know what group you were talking to.

M, it's a good one. Millennium Paladins. They sound perfect.

What? Tom, tell me you are pulling my damn leg! That's some churchy cult group! You can't join them.. and if you did, get out now!

"Look, I talked to their leader, Servant 12. He's a great guy. Owns some firm in Galaxy city.. uh, T.. ta.. Whatever. I can show you the building or something. Anyway, he says he did the design work on my gauntlets.. contract work to Allcore." Buzz shrugged, and continued his wander through his penthouse, now completely nude, looking for some clothes.

Ok, Ok, damage control. We'll spin this as a good thing. You're joining an up and coming group, well known leaders. Re-establishing old partnerships. K. I got to talk to PR. We'll put out a press release. I'll get Fabrication to do a second suit up for you in their colors. Don't forget Tom, tommorow, 9AM, you need to be at Reichman Industries. They want a full demonstration, so really give it everything. I'll check with you again then.

Tom Peterman, aka Buzz Cut, located an old pair of sweats, right where they should be, in his dresser. He grinned as he pulled them on.

"What was his line.. You can be more than you think you are. I really like that."

Henry looks flustered. His eyes go wide and he throws his hands up in exasperation.

"Don't you think I would go to Avalon and learn the truth of this if I could?! I haven't been able to just portal my way around since I lost my old power. I always had to depend on someone on the Isle to let me through the mists-- that's as far as I can go. No one will let me in, now, so the only way there is through the Glastonbury portal. I haven't gone because I didn't want to abandon the Order so soon after reappearing."

Suddenly, Henry seems on edge, scanning the air around them for... something. "We're being watched."

From all directions, or possibly no direction, a hollow voice is heard. "Yes. Watched. Heard. You guys don't think like your enemies, and that'll be your downfall some day. Oh, hi Dad." The voice drawls the word 'dad' with palpable disdain.

Henry closes his eyes, no longer searching for the source of the sound. He knows now it's coming from every shadow on the rooftop. "What do you want, construct? We have no need of your interruptions here." Henry flares up angrily, the flames roaring around him in a white hot conflagration.

"Jeez... Talk about parenting issues," the voice laughs sardonically. "Seriously, your boss has questions. I have answers. Besides, you owe me, glowstick."

Mykal looks confused and wary, rotating this way and that while observing readouts on his gauntlet. Cal nudges Henry. "He's right, lad. He helped me get ye back from th' mists. Don't be doin' nothin' stupid ta repay 'im, though."

The voice laughs, the sound grating and wicked. "Come on, now... is that a way to talk about your new ally? Things need to be said... things about the Circle. Things about old gods. Things about the end of the world. But I'm sure as hell not going to keep talking like this. You want info? I want to come back to the physical world. That means you have to step into the mists, old man. You can stand at the edge and listen in, but I want to see the sun before I continue. Your call." The voice falls silent, though the shadows seem more alive with every passing moment.

Mykal looks at Henry, his eyes seeming to say 'it's your decision.' "I'm not getting any readings that would indicate we can't handle this... whatever."

Henry looks at his friends and sighs. "If I'm not back as soon as he's gone, see Azuria. I taught her how to access the mists on the offchance that I might be captured again." With that, the flames die down and his costume changes from its current red and yellow configuration to his older blue and white. He raises his hands and concentrates, mist rising from his feet and billowing about him, and then he is gone, though the mist clings to the rooftop.

"Alright, construct. Come out into the open."

The hollow laugh returns, growing more substantive with each passing second. Shadows ooze and slink across the rooftop, lending their gray power to the slowly coalescing form of the Scion of Shadow. "I'm free! I'm sort of whole! I'm... not standing on anything," he cackles, realizing he's misjudged the location of the rooftop. "Crap."

As he falls the 22 stories to the alley below, he laughs maniacally.

*crash* *crunch* *REEEOWRRRRR*

Mykal raises an eyebrow, looking over the edge of the building at their supposed helper. Cal laughs uproariously, his huge frame convulsing in a fit of mirth. Henry can be heard snickering distantly.

Far below the rooftop, the shadowy figure stands and dusts himself off, chuckling to himself. "Way to make a first impression, genius. Now I need to eat something..." He looks past the mouth of the alley and spies a couple of Hellions mugging an old lady.

"Hey girls," he shouts, "that purse clashes with your vests!"

The Hellions turn to him, dumb confidence in their eyes. Arthur looks like a walking corpse, having twisted his substance fitfully in the fall. "Well, are we going to play, or what?" he asks, attempting to straighten himself a bit. He flexes his shadowstuff and appears to grow large and terrifying. The Hellions grow rigid with fear. "Time for supper, dimwits."

He extends his shadowy essence toward the quivering villains, enveloping them for a brief moment, then pulls it back into himself, completing a circuit which leaves them weakened and fills his form back out. They each attempt to shoot at him with tiny, ineffective pistols their arms seem suddenly unable to lift, their shots hitting harmlessly at his feet and spraying him with concrete dust. He walks over to them and calmly knocks them out, simultaneously alerting the prison teleport system of their apprehension, then walks back to the base of the building where the Paladins have gathered. He walks inside, unnoticed by the guards, and proceeds to trudge up 22 flights of stairs to the roof.

"Pardon my delay; had to grab a bite," Arthur says dismissively, parking himself atop the ruined Titan in a position facing the rising sun. "We can talk as soon as the sun's up. I don't want to miss it."

Cal and Mykal exchange confused looks, but stand motionless, awaiting his resumed animation. Finally, the sun fully rises and he stands and turns to them. "So, here's the deal. I help you, you help me. My needs are not so terrible, to be honest. As you've probably noticed, I'm not human. I want to be; I want to feel things and eat real food. I want to breathe. I want to need sleep. So, I will tell you everything you could ever want to know about Mother's plans and what's goin on in Avalon, and you help me become human. I don't care if it takes magic, science, extradimensional alien energy or the realignment of the planets-- that's all I want. Deal?"

Sam's eyes snapped open. He had been nodding off again as he had for the past couple of days. Even though he hadn't been aware of his enviroment he was aware of another person in his living room of his apartment.
"Back again for another pep talk?"
the person just laughed, "Heroes need to be cheered on don't they?"
"How about we start with what do you want? I highly doubt you cheer on my heroic adventures. Wait how about you just get out?"
"Now now no need to be aggressive, save that for the real bad guys champ. The ones out there in the big bad city, have I mentioned how this city could be yours? With your power you could be the shining ray of hope here do some real good you know?"
Sam did not know the man in his apartment, though he had been in contact with him since he got his powers. Though he claimed to be good Sam did not trust him and made it clear. He didn't even know the man's name. It had always been routine. Man pops up with some "vision" and Sam goes out to help whatever poor soul the man saw. Sam got the feeling he was being guided by this man, toward what he didn't know though he was sure it wasn't good.
"So what? We gonna talk or-"
"Don't need a pep talk," Sam interjected, "now what did you see?"

"Hmm."

Looking down at his tech belt, Mykal tapped a small key. A woman's voice announced, "Equipment diagnostic initiated."

"I find it interesting that you come here and presume that you have a upper hand. The truth of the matter is that if we don't find out what's going on, your existence, and therefore your hopes, is going to be nothing but a thing of the past."

Looking up from his belt, he stared expressionless at Arthur.

"I don't like this. I don't like you. Neither am I going to play God just to get you a human body. I've read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein."

Mykal tapped some keys on his right UGD-1 gauntlet.

"However, if your help turns out to be valuable, I can help in containing your amorphous anatomy in a suit. If I have the right materials, I can synthesize synaptic impulses that would give you an idea of what it would feel like to be human. That's if I can analyze your make up and that's a big if."

BEEP.

"Equipment diagnostic complete. No viruses detected. System integrity at 97.56%.

He frowned upon hearing the announcement, tapping more keys on his left UGD-1.

"That's as far as I'm willing to go."

"Eh..." Cal rumbles as he sees the individual from his previous meeting "...yer bloody self 'gain laddie?" Jumping off of the top of the building, Cal allows himself to fall until just before he hits bottom, and then he uses the new innate power he has gained, and hovers just above the ground.

Dropping lightly to his feet, the towering behemoth snorts once "Ye better believe I ain't helpin' ye get any bloody human body..." Clenching his hands into fists, a dark energy releases itself from his body as a different white energy barely fills his eyes "...and if'n yer thinkin' o' keepin' me friend, well laddie, yer in fer a mighty tough night."

Just barely listening to what Servant says, Cal nods his head slowly, "Aye, I'll go long with that.. fer now.. but don't think yer gettin' away with anythin', pup. If'n ye step the wrong way, or we're not seein' Scion again, then you'll be pullin' yer bollocks outta yer stomach."

Lion Hart paused and looked at the dirt. It was an hour after his mysterious contact had sent him out into the woods looking for a circle of thorns ritual ground. He had found it and locked up all the thorns, but what captured his attention was a word scribbled in the dirt. Arioch. He didn't have a clue what it meant but deep down inside he knew it wasn't a coinsidence that he found it.
"Great job champ, now why don't you go home?"
Sam was startled and jumped but he was determined to find out what Arioch meant so he ignored "X" as he had come to refer to his contact.
"Something in the dirt?" he asked.
Sam said nothing he made a mental note of the name and slipped away into sleep once he had gotten home. His night was filled with nightmares.

Arthur looks confused as Cal jumps off the building, but hears his words through the shadows and replies through them as well.

"Now what's with all the hostility, big man? When have I ever been anything but helpful to you? I helped you get the old man back before, and never once betrayed you. Don't think of me as an enemy just because Mother was-- I never asked to be created, and I sure as hell never made a decision to feed on soul energy. Aim your threats elsewhere, since they don't mean anything to me; I don't feel pain, so fear is a bit alien to me." He snickers, apparently amused by his words. "Besides, I have neither bollocks nor a stomach for you to pull them through, but feel free to pull my shadowstuff through my shadowstuff."

Looking back to Mykal, he inclines his head. "I'm not asking for some patchwork corpse to shamble around in, and I don't intend to possess anyone-- if I wanted to do that, I'd have dealt with the Circle jerks." Pausing, he refocuses on the hadows. "Hear that, big man? No interest in stealing a body. I want my own substance to become flesh so that I can be happy. I want to live, not just exist. How is it wrong to want to feel things you have memories of, but can't experience?"

"For the meantime, this syn-whatever suit sounds spiffy. I'd have done this even if you'd told me to go to Hell, to be honest. As you say, if we don't work together on this, I won't even exist anymore. The world is on the verge of falling into a Darkness so deep even shadows will be destroyed." He takes a seat on the ruined Titan and sprawls out lazily.

"For the record, thanks for not just telling me to go to Hell." He lays down on one side and props his head up on one arm, seeming at times to disappear in its shadow. "Now, about the business at hand. Big things are brewing... bigger than Mother ever even saw coming. Nimue knew, but then she was just waiting for Mother to fail. She thought she could fix Mother's mistakes, or rather my interference, but it seems the Circle's mages can muck with the winds of fate."

The shadowy construct pauses, playing with dusky filaments he pulls from the surface of his resting place while the gravity of his words sinks in. "Mother was giving the Circle items of tremendous power, at least compared to what the Circle already possessed, supposedly in exchange for their aid in returning Avalon to the physical world. The truth was, she knew they'd doublecross her the first chance they got, because they don't want the pantheon of the Celts coming back any more than the Pope does. So, she hatched a plan to capture the Envoy of Shadows (which involved me consuming him and her toting the me that would no longer be me back to Avalon.) Mother thought she could control me through fear; yes, her I was afraid of-- she could have unmade me at any time and liked reminding me of that-- but I didn't want to become a demon or have a demon become me, because evil is stupid; being evil means never trusting anyone, like Mother-- like the me everyone sees." He looks off into the distance almost wistfully, the shadows going still.

"I told them what her plan was through the shadows, hoping by some miracle they'd kill her. They didn't though; hurt her badly, sure, but she survived and limped home to Avalon. Nimue was waiting with the same spell she'd used to trap Merlin, bolstered by the Sisters-- Mother's sisters." He sits up, his face becoming solemn. He lifts his face and one hand to the sky, placing the other on his chest and intones, "So ended the undeservedly long life of Morgain, Modron, the Morrigan, [censored] queen of Avalon and former goddess. Her father and husbands won't be happy, but they can't do a damned thing about it."

Returning to a more subdued pose, he places his hands behind his back and begins pacing. "Now the problem begins here: the Circle still needs more trinkets to pull off their big plan. By big plan, I mean some sort of end of the world scenario. Mother thought you Paladin types were her only impediment to resurrecting the Old Ones, so I figured you might be able to stop the Circle's plan, too. You guys have that whole destiny thing working for you, and apparently not even Mother knew what you were up to when the glowstick wasn't sharing." He stopped his pacing, staring straight at Mykal. "You're wildcards, you Paladins-- no one knows what the future holds for you except that when the "end of the world" comes, you'll be there. No one even knows whether or not you'll stop it, only that you'll be there. Anyway," he says, resuming his pacing, "the only way they're going to get the magic they need to finish whatever it is they're doing, is by going to Avalon to get it. I've been spying on them off and on, and from what I gather they've figured out a way to open a portal straight there using the magical signature on the items they already have."

He stops pacing and inflates his chest cartoonishly. Releasing a great sigh, he deflates like a baloon, laying on the ground like a discarded rag. "So," he says, only his mouth inflating, "any questions? Please keep the threats to a minimum... I don't know how much time we have left."

Faintly blinking flourecent lights illuminated the old and dilapitated office building's lobby. It hadn't ever been entered since the rikti war until now. Now a bloodied body near death lay in the center. The body reached inside his leather coat and pulled out a cell phone. Lion Hart fought to remain consicious as a voice said "Tannan Industries please hold."
"Paladins... I need help. Its... my sister... shes alive."
The flourecent lights flickered and turned off as Lion Hart passed out.

Mykal looked at the amorphous black figure that now spread itself on the ground. He didn't like this. Didn't like the feeling of this whatsoever. It was apparent to him that it could not be trusted at all. That's what it was, an it...not a he or she.

He lost himself in thought for a moment, brooding and wary. None of this sounded good and he was sure that more than half of it was misinformation, especially the one about the Millennium Paladins being at the battle of Armageddon. No one one knew the end so he concluded that it was one of three things. One, he was lying. Two, he was lied to. Three, he was misinformed. If the latter was the case, the possibility existed that whatever the Paladins were to be a part of, it was big enough to where it seemed like the end of everything. But, since he could do nothing about that, he turned his mind's eye to the present.

The Circle of Thorns had been after the Paladins before they were even three people strong. It was obvious that they were a threat. Not only that, they were the antithesis of everything the Paladins stood for. For them to be involved didn't surprise him at all and, quite frankly, it filled him with satisfaction knowing that they were afraid. So whatever they were up to needed to be quashed as quickly as possible.

* * * * *

Tax season always had Tannan Industries a flutter with activity. When Celia Summers interviewed for the job three months earlir, she was sure that she wasn't going to get it. It sounded too good of an opportunity and she never seemed to catch a break when it came to good things happening to her. Story of her life.

Nevertheless, she decided to put in an application and resumé while she was at the Galaxy City Job Fair. It couldn't hurt. To her surprise, the phone call came later on that same day asking for an interview. The first interview was three days later, followed by a second and a third with Mykal Tannan himself.

Now, here was a man that simply oozed confidence. So much so that he didn't have to say anything. His presence and how he carried himself spoke volumes. It was hard not to be intimidated with his serious demeanor. While he asked her questions, he more than listened. He was examing her, cataloging her response. But he did it with a soft alertness. When he smiled at you with those natural white teeth and deep dimples, she knew she had the job. And for the first time in a long time, she was right.

So there she was in the outer office of Mykal Tannan's office as his personal secretary. The phones were a much busier than normal so she had to quickly put people on hold, a trait Mr. Tannan didn't like but it couldn't be helped today.

"Tannan Industries please hold."

It was a split second longer than normal, but that pause was all it took to hear what came through on the line.

"Paladins... I need help. Its... my sister... shes alive.

Her finger was poised over the hold button, her face now marred by alarm.

* * * * *

"Well then first things first," Mykal said, resolve filling his voice. "We need to...""

BEEP! BEEP!

Looking down at his left UGD-1 gauntlet, he pressed a key to allow the incoming transmission to come through.

"What do you need Celia?"

"I know you told me not to call this line unless it was an emergency and I'm not sure if it is or not but...I just received a disturbing phone call.

"From who?"

"I don't know. But it's recorded. I sent it to your voice mail."

"O.K. Thanks for the heads up."

Mykal tapped a key to hang up then lifted his gauntlet closer to his face, speaking into the built in microphone.

"Voice mail."

There was a pause before a woman's voice announced, "Message. April tenth. 5:35 p.m. Sent from Celia Summers, extension 8901."

Mykal, Cal, and Scion listened to the message coming through the speaker, the caller choking and wincing through his words.

Mykal's eyebrow's furrowed.

"That sounded like Lion Hart."

Cal looked bemused.

"How in the world can you tell from that?"

Mykal stared at his UGD-1 while tapping in a code sequence.

"I listen well."

Alert sent.

"I just put out a call for all the Paladins. We're going to have to put the Circle of Thorn investigation on hold...our brother needs us."

Sam's eyes came into focus. He was in a white hospital room with a faint beeping monitering his heart. His whole body ached and he noticed his hands shaking- he was scared. A voice, unmistakably Mykal's, said "You awake Lio-"
"Sam." His voice sounded raspy, had he been screaming?
"How are you Sam?"
"I... I guess you got the call... its nothing thanks for dragging me..." his eyes darted to a sign out a window on his left reading Chiron Medical Center, "here."
Mykal a.k.a. Servant 12, just laughed. "Oooh no you don't. First why didn't your teleport patch work?" He was collected even in a fight if one thing were to be said about Mykal it would be his cool demeanor.
"Fight in that building it got damaged."
"Ok so... I don't even know where to start." Mykal stood up from the chair he had previously occupied and closed the door. "I think you better start from the beginning."
"Look really I'm fine there isn't any special place to start I'm just a guy who isn't as tough as he thought he was. Listen don't let me hinder you this must be a big interuption, there are still crooks out there right? We should be fighting them."
Hes half dead and still sarcastic? Mykal thought.
"Sam... stop. You've been with us for a month. You've helped us fight crime, evil, demons now let us fight your demons."
Sam sighed wincing at the pain in his ribs fractured he guessed. "Ok... when I was born... I had a weird mark on my back. It scared my parents. They hid it but I could tell. Then they died... I didn't think it had anything to do with my mark... but then my sister died and I killed her murderer as he tried to kill me. It was my mark it... glowed and burned the killer to death. I don't know how I did it but I haven't been able to do it since."
"Show me." Mykal was listening intensly.
Sam pulled one arm out of his hospital shirt and showed Mykal his right shoulder blade. The tribal like symbal looked like a lightning bolt with a semi circle on the right of it. Sam slipped his arm back into his shirt and continued: "Last night my contact sent me to this building, the one you found me in, said it was a trolls hideout but,..." Sam choked up and looked away from Mykal.
"Brother what contact sent you there?" The concern in Mykal's face was genuine and Sam realized that "brother" or "sister" wasn't just something the paladins said. They weren't just a team or a supergroup... they were a family.
"I don't know his name... he just appears. Gives me missions he says he has visions of people in trouble. He showed up about the time I started to be Lion Hart. My sister, Kate, met me it was her who nearly killed me... she isn't the same... she is incredibly fast and strong..." Sam had a fit of coughing and slipped back into sleep.
Lord help him. Mykal stood as the nurse frantically checked Sam's vitals.