150 meters to the ground


Acemace

 

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Everyone put how they miss Voy maybe that will get him to come back to us.


 

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[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
Like Brahma Bullseye, my toon, he has a metal leg, and is somewhat crippled, but still works as a hero. he left me to die in the very first 150 meters before he brought it to the Forums. then he left and we never found out what happened.

[/ QUOTE ]

Yes there was another story. I'd have to say he started it almost 2 years ago I believe. It wasn't long after CoH launched. It was a pretty good storyline, but the new 150 Meters is waaayyyy better!

You mean to tell us there is another story he wrote somewhere???

[/ QUOTE ]


 

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Never met the guy in-game, not on the same server, but as long as you guys post the updates to the story, all I can say is that he has good friends with your SG. I just hope he's nothing like his character, in which case I would run the other way...

Thank you


 

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[ QUOTE ]
Never met the guy in-game, not on the same server, but as long as you guys post the updates to the story, all I can say is that he has good friends with your SG. I just hope he's nothing like his character, in which case I would run the other way...

Thank you

[/ QUOTE ]

Ya better start running then, LOL.


 

Posted

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
Never met the guy in-game, not on the same server, but as long as you guys post the updates to the story, all I can say is that he has good friends with your SG. I just hope he's nothing like his character, in which case I would run the other way...

Thank you

[/ QUOTE ]

Ya better start running then, LOL.

[/ QUOTE ]

That bad?


 

Posted

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
Never met the guy in-game, not on the same server, but as long as you guys post the updates to the story, all I can say is that he has good friends with your SG. I just hope he's nothing like his character, in which case I would run the other way...

Thank you

[/ QUOTE ]

Ya better start running then, LOL.

[/ QUOTE ]

That bad?

[/ QUOTE ]

He isn't that bad, but he does have a great sense for writing and storyline. He also has an odd sense of humor. It's genius, but odd. But who can complain with what he writes?


 

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I seldom post on this forum. but I have to add my pleas to everyone else's. This is by far the best novel (in the make) ever. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Come back and write some more. Your story is the absolute best. I just found it 3 days ago, and have put down the Clive Cussler I was reading to focus on this.

I, and I am sure many others, really appreciate the effort and the time you dedicate to this. Please, more?


 

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*Bump*
Voy is back only for a short time though.


 

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Yes, I am back.

RL keeping me busy a lot, I have to make time and write the end of this thingy here.

Thank you guys for the support and comments, they mean a lot.


 

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Need.....fix............need....more.....STORY!


 

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Hey Voy when are you going to finish up.


 

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Cant....wait...any...longer...........
-SC


 

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By popular demand, and the great graces of his Voyagerness... the Intro to 150 Meters to Ground is the latest short fiction to be featured on City of Stories, the CoH Fan Fic Podcast. Enjoy!


Direct Download
Web Site
RSS Feed
Now in iTunes


CoH: Mint Condition, Operatives Flame, Iron and Mist
CoV: Operative War, Billy Ray Payne

 

Posted

Choices and sacrifice


Meanwhile, on the rooftop, Control was directing operations. No one in the Supergroup was yet aware that the emergency they were responding to was directly related to Nether Spirit’s death at the university. All that was known was that an abnormal amount of magical activity had suddenly occurred, so much so, that it generated an all out alert across the city. Any and all hero able and willing to assist in the containment of the threat had been called upon by the city authorities.

Word had quickly traveled about Cavalier’s demotion, throughout the ranks of recruits and heroes. Control was now holding position as a leader, and was dispatching the teams efficiently. A fine strategist and proven fighter, his name carried respect, even amongst the criminal element. No one could match his approach to a battle, his insights into a situation made him a foe of superior mettle, and holding the title of arena champion confirmed that.

While this was going on above the HQ, another situation was developing underneath the surface. Moon Psyche had felt the change, the difference in a thought pattern he had learn to recognize and understand well enough. Chaotic thought patterns were washing over him, flooding him with images of battle stress and weariness. He knew well enough that such things always occurred before a mission, and given the fact that all available personnel had been called upon, had made that effect ten times stronger. But, in the middle of all that chaos, one thought pattern suddenly emerged clear, true and unyielding. A mind he knew well, that he trusted far above all others, had just shifted itself. He felt dizzy from the sensation, and had to lean against the elevator wall, while a trembling hand reached for the stop button.

“What’s going on?” Inquired Sun Heat, gently putting her hand on Moon Psyche’s arm.

“Cavalier… I’m not sure what, but he just did something… Something wrong…” Moon pushed the third basement button, and the elevator motioned downward.

“What do you mean?” She then asked him.

“I don’t know.” He replied tensely, an overwhelming sensation of dread tightened in the pit of his stomach. “We have to stop him.”

Sun Heat looked into Moon’s eyes and saw fear in them. She couldn’t recall when was the last time Moon had exhibited fear, or at least let it show. She looked up at the decreasing numbers of the floors, and began to feel pressed for time, mostly due to Moon’s impatience next to her, encouraging the elevator to go faster and faster. She saw Moon Psyche’s face turn pale, and he said:

“Make ready for battle Sun, the basement guards are all down.” He whispered to her as the elevator went passed the lobby level. “He freed them all, Jade Rade, Metal Core, Voyager and Bear Cat, they are trying to escape.” Sun Heat looked at Moon in disbelief. Cavalier had done the unthinkable, had betrayed all of them. She couldn’t fathom why he had done so, couldn’t bring herself to understand what made him do it.

“Maybe they overpowered him, took him hostage?”

“No, it was a clear thought, a cold decision he made. He is leading them out right now, they just entered the sub basement, and I can feel him. We will catch them in the sewers.” Moon answered this while he pulled out his cell phone and dialed for backup. The doors opened to let them out into the holding cells area of the base. Sun exited first, playing her role as meat shield for the controller. They both proceeded carefully in the corridor, stopping here and there to verify that guards were still alive. They had all been knocked unconscious by physical means, no trace of powers.

They walked carefully towards the far end of the corridor, to the open hatch that lead below the building, into the foundation system. Using a ladder, they climbed down into the darkened area, where fresh footsteps left in the dust indicated the direction Cavalier and the criminals had taken. Moon was scanning ahead with his mind, and found what he was looking for, too close for comfort. He motioned for Sun to stop and hold position.

“I know you’re out there Cavalier, best that you surrender now.”

The squared jaw scrapper came walking out of the shadows, ten meters in front of them. His sword was sheathed, and he stood alone.

“I can’t let you stop me, old friend, this is far too important now.” He replied while standing squarely between them and the entrance to the sewers system.

“Nothing can be that important that you would betray all of us, turn your back on everything you have worked for. If it’s about your demotion, surely we can rectify this, and bring new light to the situation?” Sun took a tentative step towards the scrapper as Moon spoke.

“You hold your ground Sun Heat, or I swear we will have words of the strongest kind this day.” Spoke Cavalier while drawing the long blade from its scabbard. Moon felt angry at that, felt the danger emanating from the resolute mind of the scrapper.

“Cavalier, you know us, we are friends and colleagues, don’t make us hurt you.” Spoke Sun Heat through clenched teeth.

“Why are you dong this, help us understand?” Asked Moon Psyche.

“Because if he doesn’t, life as we know it will stop, and become something else, something wicked.” Two fiery red eyes appeared from the shadows, and then Voyager made his entrance. “We could’ve run from here, but I asked Cavalier to wait for you.”

Moon Psyche and Sun Heat exchanged a confused look. Moon didn’t feel any threats coming from the fire controller, but knew that could change in the blink of an eye.

“Voyager can explain it best, but suffice it to say, nothing happens without a reason.” Spoke on Cavalier. “We are heading for Crey’s Folley, to destroy, once and for all, the laboratory where Turbo Starr and Voyager were held a year ago. Once that is done, something will happen, something that will force our hand into committing the unthinkable.” Cavalier then looked at Voyager and nodded for him to continue.

“When that happens, heroes will be unable to do what is needed, what has to be done, to save the city. Only we can accomplish this, and we will need your help as well.” The scrapper and the controller stood next to each other now, allies and friends of old, reunited. “Let me be clear Moon, I don’t see the future, nor do I know its outcome, I see possibilities as she lets me see them, nothing more. No matter what you decide this moment, know that Sun Heat will come with us, regardless of your decision, because she feels the need to help us. But be aware Moon, that if you come with us, you will die, but if you don’t, Sun Heat, and the child she carries, will perish in your place.” Anger was on the old controller’s face as he spoke these words. He did not like to reveal to them the fact that one would die, but the truth had to be spoken. “What we are missing now, is the last piece of this puzzle, she should be along shortly.”

Moon Psyche looked into his lover’s eyes, the woman he wanted to marry, to spend his life with, and considered living without her, and knew there and then how easy a choice love made things. Thinking of going on while his presence could prevent her death, could avoid him pain for the remainder of his days, made it an easy choice indeed. She frowned as he looked at her, she knew he would give up his life, but she didn’t want it to happen.

“Then I guess, we will not go at all.” Moon finally replied.

“Truth be told Moon, we don’t need you along, we need her. If she doesn’t come, the mission will fail miserably and reality will bend in such a way that no one will survive. She comes alone, she dies, she comes with you, she lives, and you don’t. It’s a choice.” Replied coldly Voyager.


 

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I love the new addition Voy. I mean....Helllllppppp Meeeeeee


@Turbo_Starr

 

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FINALLY!!!!!!!


 

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Ice Cold Fire


At the Steel canyon hospital, Icy Heart was flipping through a breast implant magazine, trying to decide herself on which pair to have installed. There were so many options, it was quite difficult to make a final decision. Small and perky, big and round, medium sized yet firm, bouncy and natural, permanently erect nipples option or not. Too many options, she thought to herself, and the implants themselves came in a wide variety too, from celebrity endorsed, porn stars endorsed to doctor recommended, she just didn't know enough about the subject to make a well informed decision. Doctor Wilson had assured her that she would receive the best treatment available from his staff, all expenses covered by Moon Psyche, but these... things were so expensive. Looking again at the image for the "Natural Choice for Celebrity 3000 package", the most expensive set she could find, she made her mind up. When in doubt, think rich and famous. Five million credits weren’t too much for her peace of mind, and not to mention, her pleasure and that of others.

"Nurse?" She said to the fat lady sitting behind the station, bent over paperwork and charts, eyebrows creased and concentrating on some task.

"Yes?"

"Tell Doctor Wilson I will have the Natural Choice for Celebrity 3000 package." She said with a smile, to which the nurse nodded.

"I will let Doctor Wilson know you are ready." The nurse stood up and walked away, towards the back of the plastic surgery department. Icy Heart stood up and paced about the waiting room, looking here and there at the empty chairs, heart thumping in her chest. A door from one of the private consulting opened, and Icy watched a man dressed in a trench coat with a fedora hat pushed down, almost over his eyes, exit. Of muscular stature, Icy took a second or three to dress him down, and evaluate him. At the sight of her, he stopped and stalled, as if surprised to find her here. He then proceeded to walk passed her, mumbling something about being in the wrong place. But that voice, she had heard before, and she spoke to him with puzzlement when she asked:

"Super Canadian, what are you doing here?" The walking away figure rooted himself by the exit, and looked at her from over his shoulder.

"You must be mistaken ma'am." He then spoke, trying to make his voice sound rougher than it should be. But Icy wasn't fooled at all. She walked over, and grabbed him by the arm, while her hand removed the hat, to reveal a handsome man, in his early twenties, face red from embarrassment.

"Miss Heart, we're ready for you now. Oh, hello Mr. Y, I hope your treatment was satisfactory?." Said the nurse standing outside Dr. Wilson’s office door, motioning Icy Heart to come and join her..

"Mister Y?" Softly said Icy Heart to Super Canadian. "Treatment?"

Super Canadian's face turned crimson red at that, and he looked like he wanted to escape through the nearest window. He laughed nervously, scratched his head with his left hand, and then passed it on his face in a sign of resignation.

“All right, all right…. But I swear you tell anyone about this, I’m gonna track you down and kill you.” Replied the Canadian blaster. “I’m loosing my hair.”

Icy bit down on her bottom lip, trying hard not to burst out laughing, while also attempting to look serious, the result of which made for a funny expression on her face. Super Canadian had grabbed back his hat from her hand, and pushed it back down on his face, hiding once more his features. “What are you here for?” He then asked her.

“Puppies, I’m here for puppies.” She replied while turning away and swaying her hips, walking towards the doctor’s office.

“Puppies?” Softly spoke Super Canadian. “Lady, are you ever in the wrong place.”

Icy stepped into Doctor Wilson’s small consulting office, and sat herself down onto a comfortable leather chair. She looked around the office, at the small bookshelf filled with medical references books, more than likely put there for show, and thought this was exactly what a medical office should look like. The sterile air, the lack of dust, the thorough cleanliness, the impression that everything had a place. Wilson himself, was a small man, medical smock over a blue shirt and black tie, he was scribbling and scratching on a paper, notes about his next patient. He looked at her silently, bent down again to add a few more notes.

“Miss Heart, I am afraid the clinic cannot help you.” He spoke crisply, in a detached mannerism, while putting down the pen he had been using. “The funds provided earlier have been withdrawn from the provider.” Icy’s eyes went round and wide, her fists clenched and her teeth grinded. “Your insurance plan provides replacement for one breast, for no more than fifteen thousand credits, which barely covers my consulting fee. I can refer you to an Atlas Park Doctor that can do the work for that amount.”

“Funds, withdrawn… By whom?”

“The financial institution didn’t say, but given the circumstances and until that can be resolved, I am sorry, but I can’t help you.” The doctor rose from his chair and stepped around the desk, extending a hand to help her up. His face was apologetic, compassion somewhat present in his feature. Icy Heart rose, baffled by the moment, she felt her temper go from cool and composed, to annoyed and angry in a flash. Accepting the doctor’s helping hand to stand up, she smiled gently at him, and then froze his right hand solid in hers. The man’s eyes expressed puzzlement and pain almost simultaneously, and he tried to pry it free to no avail.

“Quiet doctor, or I will rip it away.” Icy wasn’t sure what she was doing, but this was too much to swallow. First she gets burnt to a crisp in a fight, she then gets promised the best treatment available, hope rises that she will still be able to look at herself in the mirror before a shower once more, that her life will go on when this is completed. Now, all of her hopes are crushed, and she should simply accept it, fall back on the insufficient coverage the insurance provides, and accept her losses? Rage, that’s what it was, it was rage, pure and simple, that she felt. She pushed the doctor against the wall, next to the window, and put her free hand over his mouth, to muffle his attempt to scream for help. Infusing cold on the man’s face, she removed her hand to uncover blue lips meshed together. Raising a finger to her lips, Icy heart made the motion for him to remain silent. She then reached for her cell phone, and used the speed dial to call Moon Psyche.


“It is done.” Spoke Moon Psyche as he pressed the button and ended his conversation with his financial consultant. “All that was mine is now yours Sun, just in case, you know.”

“Don’t say that, you will live.” Sun heat replied, her hand softly touching Moon’s cheek.

“Since we are getting married anyways, might as well turn it all into one account, your mother told me you had expensive expectation for the ceremony a long time ago.” Replied Moon, gently smiling to the woman he loved. Cavalier threw a quick look over to Voyager, sorrow and anguish could be read there. But the old controller simply shook his head once, letting the famous scrapper know that Moon’s fate was sealed already. Moon’s phone rang, he looked at that caller’s name and answered.

“Icy, what’s going on girl?”

He stayed silent a few moments, listening to what she was saying, then looked up at the sewer’s ceiling and shook his head.

“I’m sorry about that, I have just transferred all my stocks and securities into Sun Heat’s account, we’re getting married soon. I totally forgot about your medical bill.” He spoke, smiling ruefully while looking at Sun Heat.

A few more seconds of listening, then :

“There’s not much I can do about it at the moment, seventy-hours from now, the funds will be unfrozen from the accounts, and Sun will be able to clear the transaction. Truly sorry, as I said. In the meantime, can you report to Crey’s Folley, we could use your help out there. Meet us at the entrance?” He listened again to her reply.

“Thank you, we’ll see you soon.” Moon Psyche closed his phone and looked at Cavalier.

“Shall we?”


“You are lucky doctor, that I don’t dare cross the thin line between being a hero or a criminal.” Icy Heart let go of the doctor, who stumbled away from her to the nearest corner of his office. He had never been so afraid before, the numbing cold was dissipating from his face and hand, but nonetheless, he threw up on the floor as Icy Heart left his office, gently closing the door behind her. A few seconds later, Doctor Wilson dialled for the police.


 

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Im a celebrity now!!!!!!
(please no autographs)
-SC


 

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Dangerous or crazy, both or not…

“Twenty feet underground, and I’ve never gotten a better signal.” Spoke with some derision Moon Psyche, as he answered yet another call. Listening for the other person talking, his eyebrows creased.

“Yes Pacem, I’m well, how are you?”

“I’m fine thank you. I don’t have much time, I’m still in my lab. I will be joining the efforts at the University shortly don’t worry. Hope you guys are doing ok, the news reports say it’s pretty bad.” Pacem was talking quickly, Moon could hear his footsteps, then the bell signalling the opening of elevator doors.

“What can I do for you Pacem?” There was no point explaining to Pacem that he was not where he was supposed to be, alongside the other Leaders of Apocalypse, directing operations and battling this new city wide emergency.

“Nothing. I just wanted to report something I found out a few minutes ago. The tissue sample from Voyager, I analyzed them.” Moon’s eyes squinted and they riveted themselves on the back of the head of the old controller, walking ahead with Jade Rade and Cavalier. Metal Core was also looking at the controller that way, but for different reasons. “I see, anything I should know?”

“Using the sample we kept stored from last year, the one I used to determine the extent of damage Crey Industries had done on him, I compared them together this morning. That super-serum they injected him with works Moon. My first analysis had shown a major chemical imbalance throughout his system, and now a year later, everything is stable and in check.” Pacem’s voice had started to rise towards the end of his explanation, he had reached the rooftop and the wind blowing there made it difficult to hear well.

“Pacem, I’m loosing you, can you repeat please?” Moon had stopped to let the group get ahead of him, so he could listen alone to what Pacem was saying.

“The Crey Super Serum works, Moon. The incubation period must have been longer than they anticipated. Voyager is not, I repeat is not crazy. He’s a walking time bomb. My analysis will show that he needs, no not need, that in order to survive he has to use his powers to the full extent of its multiplied capacities, like a pressure valve. My best advice, get him out of this building, out of the city. Firebase Zulu is best suited for this problem, they can keep him away from us. All my data will…”

The communication ended abruptly, the phone emitting two small beeps before shutting itself off, the battery was dead. Moon looked at the phone, wanting to smash the thing against a close by sewer pipe. Icy Heart could call in and complain about her breasts, he could talk money with his banker with no issues. But, the one conversation he needs to truly listen to, and it dies. Up ahead, from around the bend of the tunnel, two fiery eyes appeared from the darkness.

“Are you coming?” Asked Voyager to Moon Psyche, who looked once more at his phone before thinking to himself: “What were you about to tell me Pacem?”


“Hello, this is Frank.” Spoke softly the man standing in line at Burgers’n Fries in Atlas Park. Well dressed, well groomed, he didn’t look like the average Joe waiting to order his trio from the teenage cashier, dressed in a gaudy olive green and ochre yellow uniform, smiling to all customers with so much effort, it was painful to understand the philosophy behind this. He knew well enough that company policies had to be upheld, and that running a fast food restaurant chain involved customer service from the front line troops. But he felt for these young adults here, trying to earn a living at minimum wages, while profits were measured monthly by the million, and quarterly by the tens of million.

“Chromium, this is Icy, I’m sorry to call on your private line, but it seems your office wasn’t answering and neither was WinterTech. I really need your help.” The woman’s voice was apologetic over the line, and although Frank Winter should’ve given the third degree than hung up, he decided otherwise. He liked Icy Heart, desired her enough to allow the conversation to continue.

“I need to borrow fifteen million credits from you, today.” She spoke, hope resounding in her voice, over the phone.

“Only fifteen?” Frank spoke the words with some amusement, everybody thought he carried money to solve all of the world’s problems in one check account. But the truth was and remained that all of it came from WinterTech, the family business. He had to bring back receipt for everything, and was sometimes scolded by his father for spending too much on frivolous things and his lack of control when it came down to showing women a good time was well known in the city. Frank Winter was rich beyond belief, but he was also accountable for it. “I’ll have the number three, no pickles, a cola and some hot salsa for the fries please.” Then talking again on the phone. “What makes you think I can get that amount this fast. You are aware that I have to justify everything I do right?”

“That’ll be twelve credits, sir, would you like a dessert with that?”

“No dessert, thank you.” He replied to the cashier, who spoke more like an automaton that a human being. Probably the effect of having that smile stapled in place, since she began her shift this morning, and having said the exact same phrase for the thousandth time so far. Frank Winter pulled out his bank card and handed it over to the cashier, who slid it into the cash register.

“Moon Psyche had promised to cover the fee for my plastic surgery today, and at the last possible moment, he backed out. I need the money Chromium, and you’re the only one I can think of that has that much. Please, I will pay you back as soon as I can.” Famous last words, there was no way Icy Heart could ever pay back that much money. She was asking for a donation, and Frank Winter had been asked often enough about personal loans and free donations to know this.

“Transaction refused Sir.” Spoke the cashier, but Frank did not listen to the cashier. He grabbed his tray and started to walk towards a table, to sit down and eat. The cashier spoke to him again from behind the counter, and this time he heard what she said. He stopped and turned, aware that everyone was looking at him.

“Hold on Icy.” He then put the phone on his chest, to muffle the sounds. “Refused?”

Frank walked back to the counter, putting the tray back onto it and handed his plastic card over to the cashier. “Try again dear, maybe there’s a problem with your machine.” The cashier smiled uncertainly, and slid the card once more. Winter put the phone back on his ear and started to talk to Icy Heart again, explaining to her the situation, quite amused by it.

“Refused.” Spoke the cashier once more. “Icy, let me call you back, it looks like I’m the one that needs to borrow money.” And with that Frank Winter hung up his cell phone. Over the next few minutes, he would attempt payment with all the cards he was carrying, until it dawn on him, that somehow, all his money had been frozen at the source. He left Burgers’n Fries embarrassed by the event, knowing people were looking at him as he walked away. Some knew who he was, and whispers and chuckles were heard. Outside, he speed dialled his father’s number several times, never getting an answer. A few attempts later, he dialled Robert Ferrara’s number, the Head of Public Relations for WinterTech Industries and personal friend.

“Robert, any reasons why my accounts are frozen this morning?”

“Frank, I was just trying to reach you. You have to come to the office right away. There’s a board meeting going on, your father is there right now, the company has been bought out in a hostile takeover an hour ago.” Ferrara spoke quietly, as if afraid of being heard by someone.

“Hostile takeover? Who?” Frank Winter swallowed hard as he looked around himself, to passing cars and people walking by, indifferent to what was going on.

“Crey Industries bought sixty percent of the shares, every minor share holder we had has sold it to them.” Ferrara’s voice sounded shocked, stunned by the event.

“What? My father would have never allowed that, he would have doubled whatever amount Crey had put up. This can’t be.” Frank passed a hand through his hair, unable to fathom how the company had suddenly become the property of Crey Industries.

“Hold on Frank, your father’s walking out of the board room.” Silence followed for a few seconds, and Frank heard Robert Ferrara speak to his father, in the background he heard his old man say:

“I have been fired.”


 

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Dangerous or crazy, both or not... part 2


Frank Winter felt the world spin around him, his step faltered and he had to sit down on the sidewalk, where his shallow breaths seemed to be all he could hear. Atlas Park was moving around him, careless of his plight or distress, people went on walking passed him, uncaring to inquire if he needed help. How did his father not see this, this calamity come about? How could he not prevent it? What would happen to him now?

“Frank?” Chromium Man then realized that his cell phone was still in operation.

“Yes?” He couldn’t find anything else to reply, words and sentences were spinning around in his skull, and his eyes were wide opened. From the sheltered life he had always known, from which nothing was out of reach or impossible, he was now faced with the same harsh reality that ninety-eight percent of the human population was faced with every day, he would have to survive. Basic economics thought you that most things were measured so that a person could live from check to check, saving very little money in the long run, North American fact.

“Frank, what do you want me to do? Crey security personnel are inside the building and probably the labs and factories, your father is being escorted out. Frank, what do I do?” Robert’s voice was tensed, and he hissed that last sentence.

“Is the Mark IV still in the armoured transport truck?” Secure his future, that’s what he had to do. All the other battle armours, the Chromium Men, were in that building and were probably locked down by Crey as they were talking, he was hoping that the latest model had not been unloaded since the media display.

“I think so, why?”

“Robert, I want you to steal that truck and meet me at the Apocalypse HQ in an hour. We can’t let Crey Industries get their hands on it, do you hear me?” His voice was cold steel, his purpose in life had just been clarified, he would not surrender that easily, not without a fight.

“I will try Frank, but they are searching for you, better be careful man.” Ferrara sounded more certain of himself, now that his friend and employer had given him a task to concentrate upon. Aside from being head of public relations for WinterTech, Robert Ferrara had an extensive military background, he could handle this task.

“Don’t worry about me, just get the Mark IV out of there and meet me in Steel Canyon. I’ll check in with you in forty-five minutes from now.” With that, Frank Winter pressed the end button of his cell phone, and placed it back inside his suit pocket. He stood up and brushed himself free of the dust and dirt that might have dirtied his Armani suit. He looked around once more at Atlas Park, got his bearing and was about to walk towards the train station, when a light reflection from a rooftop across the street, caught his attention. He looked at it, at first it didn’t register, but then he thought:

“Sniper”

Without a thought, he threw himself on the ground, and felt the wind displacement of the projectile hit the pavement behind him. There had been no sharp sound accompanied by the shot, the gunman was using a silencer. Had it not been for the sun reflecting off the lens, Frank Winter would be dead. He looked at the shooter quickly, and saw that the woman was cocking the firearm again for another shot, she took aim. He stood up and began to run down the street, towards the train station, fear propelling his legs to run, teeth clenched and fists tight.

He counted the seconds, one, two, three had passed, she would fire soon. He frantically dove and rolled behind a bus stop shelter, at the same time that the window of it broke in thousands of piece. The glass shards scrapped his hands, and tore through his suits, and one of his knees bumped hard against the pavement as he rolled back up. But Frank Winter kept running for his life, looking over his shoulder at the sharpshooter, he saw her rearm the weapon once more. He tackled a woman walking towards him to the ground, and kept going while she vociferated curses at him, he had to get off the streets. Counting to three again, he knew the next bullet was coming, and couldn’t find another shelter.

So he dove through a store window, he didn’t have time to notice what store it was, but he felt the burn of the bullet going through his right arm, ripping apart some flesh and muscle. He also felt a piece of glass tear through his cheek as he rolled onto the store floor, it went deep enough that he bit down and broke it with his teeth. He stood up and pulled it out of his face running towards the back store. He heard a woman scream from behind the counter, but didn’t care for it. He reached a door and slammed it open, to find an old lady in her underwear. She had entered the dressing booth a few minutes earlier to try on a nightgown, and she was now screaming for mercy for him not to hurt her. Frank stopped and screamed at anyone to tell him where the back door was, but didn’t wait for an answer, he ran straight for another door which he tackled opened.

He landed outside, in the back alley washed by sunlight, and rolled himself to an upward position. Behind him, from inside the store, he heard screams again and someone in there used the word “gun”. He was followed by his assailants. Instead of running again, he went to stand next to the exit and waited a few seconds, breath heavy he could feel warm blood flowing down his injured arm, the bitter taste of it in his mouth. A man in a suit came running out, and Frank Winter jumped him from behind, with one hand he grabbed the wrist holding the pistol, while his other grabbed the man by the back hair. They fell to the ground, with Frank on top of him. Twice, he smashed the man’s head against the pavement with all the strength he could find, the second impact brought about a wet noise from the skull. His follower was dressed in a brown suit, white shirt and tie, and went limp from the assault he had just sustained. Chromium Man grabbed the pistol from the man’s hand and stood up. His eyes immediately centered on the sniper, she was standing fifty yards away in the back alley, aiming straight for him. He raised his weapon and fire loudly in her direction, she fired silently at him at the same time. The sniper’s head snapped back and a red mist exploded from the back of her skull, her sunglasses flew straight up in the air before hitting the ground.

Frank Winter felt an impact also, and was sent flying through the air backwards, he landed a few feet away with the air knocked out of him. A numbing pain made its way across his chest. His vision blurred, he started to crawl away from the fight scene. With a last ditch effort, as he felt consciousness was about to fail him, he raised a sewer grate and let his body fall limply into the murky waters below. Helanded in a splash under Atlas Park, where a slow current began to move him away. All was quiet but for the sound of the water dripping from the pipes, he faded out thinking that this was no the way he wanted to die.


At the Paragon University, Control was confident that in time, they would contain the situation, and left the fighting outside in the capable hands of Pacem, who had just arrived a few minutes ago. As he walked through the deserted halls of the university, lights from the ceiling flickering on and off, he looked more a villain than a hero in the gloom. When he reached area where the Academy of Arcane Magic and Studies was located, his senses were on alert and he was surprised by an emotion he had not felt in a long time, fear. With careful steps he walked towards the door leading into the laboratory, and wasn’t surprised to find it trashed and vandalized. A small fire had blackened the concrete wall in a corner, neon lights were broken and some were still trying to light room while hanging by the electrical cord from the ceiling. Control looked around silently, detailing the room with piercing eyes, trying to understand what had taken place here.

A hole in the wall big enough for a human to go through, the telltale sign that a sharp object had sliced through some of the furniture, blood spattered on the floor. His eyes searched for the Ghost Sword, then stopped at the corner of a work table, where on the ground, two boots bearing the colors of Apocalypse could be seen. Walking swiftly, he circled the table and knelt beside the body there, and his cape and uniform were soaking in blood. Using two fingers, he felt for a pulse, there was none.

“Nether.” He spoke softly, resting the man’s head in his left hand. A great sadness came over Control then, a friend had died alone, without help or assistance. Judging from the scene, he had put up quite a fight before the end. Where was the justice in this? Where was the greater glory? A hero’s life rarely granted rewards per say, recognition at times, a medal on occasion. Would Nether Spirit be remembered in a year from now, when more heroes would still be out there, fighting crime and defending the city? Control felt the absolute hypocrisy of it all, the laughable futility of hoping for a better end for himself or others. For the city, heroes were almost nothing more than cannon fodder against a threat they dared not face. To be thrown at the lions, for public pleasure and instant gratification.

“Nether.” He spoke again, a tremor in his voice.

Control reached for the hand of the man lying dead, and freed a piece of crumbled paper from it. It must’ve been important, since Nether had been holding it. Clearing his blurred vision, he unwrinkled the thing, to reveal an old picture taken maybe twenty years ago.

“Bane? Jenkins?” He whispered aloud, looking down on a picture of a younger Voyager and Mary Jenkins along with a baby in her arms. They were both smiling to the camera, the perfect image of the happy family. But it was the background of the picture that caught his attention, a place he had been to only once, but that he would never forget. Orebanga.

Reaching for his belt communicator, he called central dispatch, requesting the coroner’s presence at the University. After which, on the Apocalypse channel, Control relayed the news to everyone.

“Hero down.”


 

Posted

The deal of the century


How does one justify the means, the very means by which the end is met? The city knows a threat, feels its powers, understands its motivations, and with that knowledge, answers in kind. The response, send in the heroes, send them all in. Two years of endless fighting, gaining a meter here, loosing one there. Making friends, only to see them vanish, disappear from sight like their existence had been but a dream. Of course, one would argue that defending the weak and helpless is a privilege earned, bestowed upon one by the foremost powers to be, calling upon the bravest knights to slay the dragons. Funny, when put into perspective, that we remember the tales of those who won, they are well known to us, passed down from generation to generation, inspiring us to strive and be more than mere mortals. Also very humorous that the tales of those who did not slay the dragons are best left forgotten, shameful failures that should never be transmitted, less the people should learn that heroes, can and will die facing the odds. But these failures, were they less courageous?

The city itself, only honours the victors, their benefactors and saviours, showering them with prestige, recognition and powers. Granting them access to ever greater dangers, resting on the heroes, the hopes of entire generations living secure in the knowledge that the city, not exactly the city, but the courageous souls it sends in its name, will save the day once more. That the heroes die, a tragedy, should they come back, a victory celebrated with a pat on the shoulder, a badge and a picture on page three or four of the Paragon Times, next to the daily coupons of the meat market. Why, when you ask this to yourself, should this go on? Why, easily answered by our families, friends, neighbours, the love we feel and cherish for ourselves through them. But, only those that make it home, those that prevail matter. As for the rest, a sad, very sad loss indeed, which will be expressed by a flower crown for the burial, if the hero was well known, a city’s representative or dignitary present for the big send off.

Anger building in a hero’s heart can only be natural at this point, be expected and excused to a certain degree. Being themselves, entities and conduits of extreme powers, collateral effects are to be foreseen, such as explosions, fires, crumbling buildings and innocent victims either injured or dead. As for the latter, rarely have they been mentioned, it wouldn’t be proper for the morale and image of heroism, to be known that last night, while hero X was arresting villain Y, sweet little Z was burnt to a crisp by a stray fireball, rendering Z a hideous, blind and hairless piece of human flesh. Thankfully, the doctors were able to stabilize Z, and at the tender age of fourteen, she would live a long and wonderful life. It would not be proper to mention that, to remind the population who celebrate their heroes, that they too are killing machines of the highest calibre.

Will heroes sometime falter, trip over themselves, be mistaken for the very fiend they fight? The answer is yes, it happens to most of them, at one point or another they have the urge, the desire, to let it happen. To stare straight down into the bottomless pit that we call evil, and look for the bottom. Plunge freely, willingly without a care, and let anger flow free. Fall into it for once, for just one moment, and let a hero’s soul scream its despair at being so good, the paramount spitting image of all that is proper and faultless.

What should a city do when that happens, is a good question indeed? Of course, they could call in the new found villain’s former friends, set their hunting dogs after the fallen hero, have the situation contained by these virtuous beings. Studied for years, the city has delve itself into that subject, and over time, came up with a solution that answered this specific need. Sending friends and colleagues to arrest a friend, had proven to be at times a mistake, playing the understanding hand and letting the rogue be sent away with a slap on the hand, also. What was a city sworn to protect its citizens to do, in the case of a hero gone bad? The answer had come from Crey Industries, almost a year ago now, in the form of a program meant, not to help the heroes, but to outcasts them from society, to exile them away from heroes, away from villains. And forward was pushed the “Firebase Zulu” project, all the way to the top, onto the mayor’s desk, in the greatest secrecy, as dark plans should be.

The project, most auspicious that it was, brought forth the proposition that jailing the rogues was too expensive, and in time would also, fill the prisons with too many powerful beings, as they already were, which would lead to a possible massive breakout. The contingency plan, approved during a private meeting between selected city representatives and Crey Industries, lead to an agreement between the two parties. On the one hand, fast and efficient containment of rogue heroes justified for the safety of the public, on the other, test subjects and guinea pigs for Crey Industries that would permit medical and technological breakthroughs to be shared with the city. The authorities felt that it was better to control the situation in this matter, than having all out battles between heroes in the city streets. Giving the premises for, and opening the door to the fact that, even though the city needs its heroes, it was also very afraid of them. The hidden agenda was put into force a year ago, its first victim, an aging controller called Voyager. More would follow after, all abducted quickly and efficiently, by a crack team of Crey Agents and Malta Operatives, taken away without regards of the consequences.

The rogue heroes were then brought into a laboratory, where Crey Industries tested them, tried several different potential technologies, created for the sole purpose of making sure that the former heroes would become more unstable than they were. It also provided Crey Industries with countless studies on the nature of their powers, and how to harness it for later usage. The city looked the other way while this was happening, playing the innocent card, while Crey Industries reaped valuable data that led to important improvements of its discoveries. Of course, Apocalypse raised a few questions at times, wondering if anyone had heard of their friends, colleagues, disappeared and vanished. But they remained unanswered until recently.

“Target acquired.”

After thorough study and testing, the heroes would be grafted with a transponder, and set free within the Shard, unable to return to earth. That they would perish there was expected, that they would survive, unlikely and not desired. The military played their parts, in exchange for data and technology, which Crey Industries shared with them, albeit in a limited fashion, but enough so that the cooperation would ensue. The “Firebase Zulu” project has been operating ever since, capturing heroes and using them for the greater good.

“Go weapons free now.”

Subduing the heroes had proven difficult at first, at times impossible. Asking Apocalypse to capture them, the city would then stage a daring escape from the prison where the rogues had been held, only to remit them to Crey Industries. News of their escape would cover the newspaper, but sighting of them, or recapture, had never happened. The plan was working well, already a serum to treat and regenerate dead cells from cancer had been discovered. And there, a new optical system had lead to the improvement of magnetic imaging by a tenfold. Here, a biogenetic armour mesh had been discovered, equipping the police force with a safer and more thorough protection against projectiles and energies. Crey Industries had become the foremost company, its profit rocketing sky high, surpassing that of WinterTech and its competitors. Hefty donations were made to the city in return also, providing much needed funds to rebuild structures and provide for the citizens. By far, and with a certain look back, with all the draw backs it brought at first, “Firebase Zulu” had made everyone richer and far better off, than Apocalypse had been, by merely fighting off crime and destroying entire city districts in the process.


Icy Heart was running through Brickstown, using super-speed , she was almost at Crey’s Folley’s entrance, when she felt a dozen stinging sensation hit her across her back, the back of her legs, and a very painful one at the bottom of her skull, where the spine met the head. Her muscles gave way almost right away, and she became a rolling ball of flesh and bones, tumbling on the street without ceremony, to crash land back first and head down, into a parked car, unconscious. She had just been fired upon by several stun darts, each containing enough to put to sleep an elephant. A truck applied its brake almost on top of her, and two Malta agents came out the back, and grabbed her. They threw her in the truck, closed the door, the engine roared into gear. In less than fourteen seconds, a fallen hero had been subdued and taken off the street.

“Target subdued, on our way.”


 

Posted

The deal of the century part 2

Cavalier and Metal Core were the first out of the manhole, followed by Jade Rade and Voyager. Moon Psyche and Sun Heat were still below with Bear Cat, about to make their way up. The first comment that came out of Cavalier, when he noticed the delivery truck in the distance, heading west into Crey’s Folley, had been surprise. What was it doing here, of all places? Straightening up from behind the dumpster directly west of the entrance to the restricted and also, much polluted zone, Cavalier watched as the security chief and his men simply cleared the non descript truck in. He couldn’t recall a time when cars and civilians were allowed in here. Ducking himself behind the dumpster, he motioned for Metal Core to quietly do the same, although the tank found it very difficult to hide his unique and imposing shape. Jade nestled herself between the two of them, while Voyager decided that it would be best to get back into the manhole until he was needed.

“Dammit!” Hissed the square jaw scrapper, as he smacked his forehead. “I forgot the masks.”

“What is it?” Whispered Metal Core, looking all over for the reason to this outburst.

“I left the masks in my office. I had ordered them for you, Jade and Voyager, so that no one would see your faces, in case of trouble.” Cavalier shook his head, annoyed at his forgetfulness. But going back to HQ was not an option now. Hidden behind the dumpster, they watched the truck roll by their position, heading straight for the heart of Crey’s Folley. Only its tail lights could be seen in the distance, making a motion for the sidewalk, probably driving around a pile of debris in the road. Cavalier decided this deserved some investigation.

“Stay here, I’ll be back.” And with that, he super ran across the tarmac, and began to sneak around quickly, never loosing sight of the delivery truck in the distance.

“If he thinks for one second I will hide my face from the enemy, he’s got another thing coming.” Mumbled Metal Core, while Jade Rade nodded approval to his comment.

Almost a thousand yards from the entrance, the truck veered south, moving slowly. Cavalier noticed a detail about the route, something he recalled from his early days patrolling Crey’s Folley, occurred to him. The truck was following a trail heroes had learned to call: Sniper’s Alley. In about four hundred yards, he knew the vehicle would make two quick turns and resume its trajectory towards the south, then west again. He watched it move along, he also saw a Ritki patrolling drone come out from the side building to the east. No sooner was it out in the open, no sooner was it shot down, and judging from the multiple echoing metal sound that followed, the drone was shot down by five different guns. Sniper’s Alley was a good name for this place, and the truck was more than safe to proceed to its destination.

“So, this truck has business here then?” The squared jaw scrapper thought to himself.

Cavalier kept on following from a distance, creeping from one shadow to the other, at times loosing sight of his target, but never long enough. When the truck veered west and headed straight into Shanty Town, Cavalier was on its tail. Then, the delivery vehicle entered the now very abandoned Portal Industries sector, and resumed its course west. A few hundred yards more and it would be confronted by the make shift walls that composed the Circus, Freaks territory. But, just before it did so, the brake lights light the night, two small white lights began to glow and the truck was backing up to a door. Cavalier crept closer still, senses on alert for anything, he loosened the sword from his scabbard.


Moon Psyche was holding Sun Heat’s hand, while Bear Cat and Voyager were quietly debating the fact that Crey Industries knew where they were this very second, due to the three active transponders on Jade, Core and Bear Cat. The former leader of the Hunters of Apocalypse shrugged it off, stating that it did not matter much anymore, even if the world came crashing down, he would face it standing up. You could tell by watching the old controller and the massive tanker talking, that if this were a bar and not a sewers, a bare knuckle fight would certainly be the outcome to this conversation. But then again, Voyager had always been not very good with interpersonal relations, his file told countless stories of reports made by other members concerning his attitude. Above the ground, Metal Core and Jade Rade were gently talking, like old friends, asking each other in no uncertain terms, if this is what they truly wanted. Rade was telling her friend that as soon as this was over, they would more than likely be arrested once more, and sent to prison. To which Core disagreed, they would end up back in Firebase Zulu.

They all brought in their own, very unique, set of problems. All of them did. Voyager, who was seeking revenge, at all cost. Cavalier was after redemption, a penance of sort. Bear Cat wanted to expose the truth. Jade Rade desired justice and fairness, and hopefully a review of her case. Metal Core dreamed to bash in Voyager’s head, and also some semblance of justice. Sun Heat longed to see her child be born in a better world, happily married with Moon Psyche. They all were here, united under a single objective, brought about by different motives. Crey Industries had to be stopped, not just arrested, stopped with intent and decisiveness, with prejudice and violence. Tonight, they would be criminals according to the law, but no one would know, ever.

“Am I the only one who hears a phone ringing?” Whispered Moon Psyche, standing close to the ladder leading up top. Bear Cat and Voyager hushed down to listen, Sun Heat held her next step in check, cocking her head to the side, intently trying to hear the repeating sound Moon had detected. Yes, faintly, to the east, she heard it. Moon looked at her, and made the motion for her to stay where she was. Nodding his head towards Voyager and Bear Cat, the three of them walked down the sewer’s tunnel, creeping towards the sound, which grew louder and stronger. It was indeed a phone ringing, here of all places. They walked carefully to the bend, followed the slope downwards, where at the bottom, a pile of garbage and debris had accumulated itself, blocking partly the water flow. The telephone ring came from down there, likely seventy yards under street level.

“Whatever that brand of phone is, I want one.” Whispered in awe Moon Psyche.

Bear Cat lead the way down and around the pile of garbage, and knelt next to a man, badly injured, from the looks of things. Voyager followed in and looked at this stranger, dressed in a dirty suit, he was a bleeding mess. When Moon came around the corner and his eyes fell on the victim, he gasped in shock.

“Frank!” Kneeling, he straightened the man to a sitting position, and started to feel for injuries. Swelling from the side of the chest told of broken ribs, but there was no bleeding from the mouth, if only from a deep gash in his cheek. He was wet all over, ranking the smell of the sewers, and very much unconscious. Reaching inside his jacket, Moon pulled out the cell phone that had been ringing all along. Bear Cat whistled when he saw it in Moon’s hand and said:

“This is one lucky [censored] we have here, one inch to the right, he’d be dead.”

Moon looked at the phone, what appeared to be a 7.62mm bullet was lodged into the phone, right where the emitter was. That the phone was working still, was a credit to the company who made it. The titanium casing might have something to do with it though, Moon acknowledged to himself. Looking at the screen, it kept flashing about a new message left for Frank Winter.

“Get Jade Rade, quickly!” Said Moon to Voyager, who stood up and ran with all haste to retrieve the defender.

“I’ll tell you this, it’s a good thing he ain’t awake. If he were, that guy would be in pain, a lot of it. You know him? Bear Cat was searching the man’s pockets for identification when Moon’s hand stopped him short, preventing him from pulling the wallet out.

“Yes, he is a friend, my friend.”


 

Posted

The deal of the century part 3


“We should leave him. No place for him where we’re going.” Bear Cat leaned against the wet sewer wall, and looked far into the distance of the tunnel, towards Brickstown. One thing was bothering him about all this, but he couldn’t get his finger on it. He knew well enough who Frank Winter was, from the tabloids and newspapers, somewhat of a local spoiled brat celebrity. He was also very aware that his father, aside from being the major shareholder of Winter Industries, was privately funding the Hunters of Apocalypse, that is, until recently, when he pulled the plug. Any hopes of getting that money back would be crushed if anything happened to pretty boy Winter here.

“We’re Apocalypse, we don’t leave friends stranded or behind.” Replied Moon softly while he was trying to sit Frank Winter up, gently, much like a brother would.

“Right, sure, huh huh.” Replied Bear Cat almost too quickly, some derision in the voice, some annoyance in his traits.

“What does that mean?” Asked Moon Psyche, still intent on helping his friend to a better position, cleaning up some of the muck, which was present on his numerous cuts and wounds.

“We’re Apocalypse, we don’t’ leave friends stranded or behind.” Bear Cat spoke, imitating Moon Psyche, much anger present on his face. Bear Cat was not a patient one for lies, double talk or bull [censored], as it were, Moon Psyche was feeding him a recruiting concept, an idea that can seldom be considered true in the heat of battle. When things get worse, two things will happen on the spot. You either will stand tall and die, or you will run for your life. The law of average and probability, especially in combat, had a way to catch up to anyone.

“Once again, what does that mean?” Moon Psyche looked up at the huge tanker, a criminal or a vigilante, he wasn’t sure yet about him. But he knew when he was in the presence of a threat or not, and this huge chunk of man did not emanate such an aura, yet. “You are not from Apocalypse, although you usurped the name, up until recently, we had no idea of your existence, or that of your organisation. Speak your mind, or keep quiet, do not do both.” Moon caught an image, a quick glimpse of Bear Cat’s state of mind, a fleeting picture that told him how much Bear Cat thought he was a liar. Anger and resentment began to make their way in the sewers, the tension began to build between Moon Psyche and Bear Cat.

“Right, but what about him?” Asked the former leader of the Hunters of Apocalypse, while pointing a thumb in Voyager’s direction, which was just now arriving with Jade Rade.


Cavalier looked on for a few minutes, and according to the noises coming from the building across the street, the truck was being unloaded. Remaining hidden and still, he waited patiently, when another truck came into view, down the street. The second one bore the crest of WinterTech Industries, and no sooner had it backed up to the door, no sooner was it emptied. Only difference this time, that a body was dragged from the passenger side, carried away by two Malta soldiers and dumped without ceremony into a close by dumpster. Soon after, they poured gasoline into it and threw a match, lighting up the surrounding alley with a fiery orange glow, accompanied by a dark soot smoke.

In the distance, brought on by the wind, remnants of heavy metal music could be heard, the cheers of a crowd and several shots fired also. The Freaks were having a party, a loud one too. Cavalier couldn’t help but think on this enemy as a nuisance more than a threat. Part men, part machines, they thrived on conflict and what they lack in sheer power, surely they made up for it, in numbers. Maybe they were the future of men, he thought ironically, cyborg technology used for the betterment of humankind.

But not tonight, much like a swimmer, the future held its breath. Tonight, Cavalier felt things were going to change once more, there was something eerie in the air. Was it the cloud covered moon in the sky, the lack of stars or the absence of warmth in his soul, he didn’t know, but this night certainly felt different. A few days ago, he would’ve followed procedure to the letter, letting the authorities deal with this issue. Tonight, he was taking it one step further, going beyond what was required of him and seeing it through.

Justice, or whatever it might be viewed as, would prevail. Too often had he stepped back and let things go, secure in the belief that the city, Apocalypse and ranking authorities knew better and would handle the follow ups to such situation. This night, would see an end to this blind pattern, this night would open the doors that only a certain few had the key to. Truth be told, the famous scrapper felt a hero now, more than ever before in the last year. Hidden in the shadows, watching like a stalker his target, mind set on a deadly behaviour, he felt elated and right. Was this freedom of thought? Freedom of action and movement? Could it be that all this time he had acted the part, but never believed in the words?

He looked down on his sword, at the aged hilt and metal, and wondered if the idea behind it, wasn’t a thing of the past as well. This blade, more than fourteen hundred years old, had been crafted by a master smith of the dark ages. Long ago, when men cowered in fear of everything, well before faith came to grasp humanity in a choking hold and unite it behind a common, albeit misguided, goal. Why had his ancestor ordered the blade made, had he foreseen the future, had he caught a fleeting glimpse of things to come, and out of fear, decided to arm himself? Had he known that it would be linked to legendary men of arms, passed down from generation to generation to the one worthy wielder, only one? Surely not, things were not that ordained in the universe, were not so pristine that it could be that simple to explain. But what if they were?

Shaking his head away from the reverie of the moment, he returned his attention to the old warehouse across the street. Both trucks had moved away and disappeared towards Brickstown, leaving the building in a state of quiet abandonment. The squared jaw scrapper knew it wasn’t empty, far from it. Inside, the opposing force would most surely be strong and armed, trained to respond to intruders in a most deadly fashion. Smiling ruefully in the darkness, he couldn’t help but think they had another coming.


Jade Rade bent down and inspected the injured man next to Moon Psyche. His pulse was weak, but steady. Concentrating, she released radiation around herself, basking Bear Cat, Moon and Voyager in her regenerative aura. It felt warm, soothing and calming to the men, and the results were almost instantaneous. Frank Winter opened his eyes to see Sun Heat and Metal Core appear from the bend of the tunnel, looked around to see Bear Cat, Moon Psyche. His eyes went wide when they fell on Voyager, and he actually tried to get up and stumble backwards. Moon gently held on to his friend, telling him to calm down, that he was safe now. After a few seconds of disorientation and another healing session from Jade Rade, Frank Winter stood up and held himself with pride and composure. Although it was comical to look at him doing so in a soaking wet, ripped apart and wrinkled suit.

“Frank, you have a message.” Spoke Moon as he extended his hand to give the shot cell phone to Chromium Man. When Winter saw the bullet lodged in it, he looked straight for his chest to find where it had entered. Shaking his head in disbelief, at the sheer luck he had used up by surviving, he wondered how in the blue blazes of hell, the phone could still be in working condition. Pressing the button to call voice mail, while the group walked back up towards the manhole, he brought the speaker to his ear.

“It’s a wonder the Vazhiloks or the Losts didn’t get their hands on you, old friend.” Spoke Moon Psyche, walking next to him.

“I was wondering the same thing, the sewers seem deserted these days.” Replied Bear Cat walking ahead, next to Metal Core and Jade Rade.

“They are far from deserted. The sewers can only hold so much evil at once.” Whispered Voyager who had fallen into step next to Frank Winter, throwing him a disturbing smile, fiery red eyes glowing in the dark.