The Brutal Warriors Order (Story: Chronicle)
By
DeviousMe,
Posted on: 2007-03-19 12:02 in Roleplaying
Nobody really paid much attention to the large, pale-skinned, business suit-clad men who approached the various blue portals across the city. Nor did they take much heed of the black-and-white clad "ninjas" that followed them. Each one presented a device that gave them access to the network of hero bases dotted throughout the city and, after they found the one they were looking for, they casually stepped into the blue field.
They must have been heroes. Right?
What the group found in the base they'd chosen were empty rooms and empty corridors. However, there was a conversation deeper in the complex. The twenty agents and sorcerers (ten of each type) worked their way deeper into the base, cautiously searching the rooms and finding that they were empty save for a few cots and pillows. It seemed as if they were the guest quarters for anyone purchasing the base's services.
In the middle of the base was a large chamber that most other heroes crammed full of teleportation pads. However, in this base, it simply held a large, square fighting ring in the center. The agents didn't seem shocked by it, nor did their sorcerer support, and they calmly stepped around it without a word.
When they made their way to the back room where the conversation was taking place, they found a computer surrounded by four large speakers. On the laptop's screen was a group of individuals matching the descriptions of some of the meta humans they were looking for. They were playing a game of cards.
"I fold," the man with a dirty blonde goatee muttered, "You're too good at this game, James."
"Maybe I should try my hand at the Giza," the one wearing metal skull ornaments replied.
"Hey guys," the one matching the description of Charles Reynolds muttered, "Looks like our guests have finally arrived."
The group turned to the camera and seemed to be looking at the agents and sorcerers of the NHS. They set down their cards and stared impassively at the intruders. A heavy-set blonde surreptitiously lifted James' cards and looked at them while Charles spoke.
"I was hoping one of your bosses would have come with you to see that the job was done properly, but it seems that the directors are still too chicken-[dreck] to do anything themselves. Pft. No wonder I was so blind to what they were doing to me. I was playing with the new toys while they sat back and watched their profit margins. Well, now they get to watch as one of their projects nose-dives into the red..."
One agent approached the computer and glared into the camera.
"This is Agent Curtis, One Zero Nine Three. You are slated for execution. Where are you?"
"Where you can't find us," a skinny young man replied as he handed canned drinks to his friends, "Once we found the tracker in that old laptop, we knew all we had to do was set it off to get you guys to come running."
Agent Curtis said nothing. As the two groups stared at each other through the live feed, the BWO group grew slowly larger as absent members were roused from whatever recreation they were engaged in so they could witness the exchange. Eventually, the whole group was present to witness the end of this.
"And now, we're going to get rid of yet another squad of you dopes," Chuck finished, "You see, we got a little help from some friends..."
-----------
--Earlier that week--
"Alright," the Air Guard Engineer explained as he placed a set of bombs that seemed to have gas canisters attached to them, "these are some nasty throwbacks to our days as Sky Raiders. They emit a highly flammable gas that a concentrated spark will set ablaze. I've seen this stuff work, and it's kind of pretty... A bright green flame envelopes most of everything. The burst lasts less than a minute, but it incinerates everything to a near-useless state."
He started placing the charges under the ring.
"You guys sure you don't want to save this thing? It looks like a lot of effort went into it."
"A lot of effort did go into it," Draven replied, "But we want to make sure these guys think we still intend to come back here."
He sighed as he looked at the ring. It was the third one they'd made. The first blasted apart by Sky Raider Skiffs, the second destroyed with the Rogue Island base, and now this one was soon to go as well. He hoped Paragon City officials didn't mind the spectacular nature of it, but they were trying to make a point the New Horizon Syndicate wouldn't soon forget.
"What else are you loading into the ducts?" he asked.
"We're throwing some C-4 into the air ducts, putting them on support studs that only really hold up the ceiling. When this thing goes, you'll probably want to send someone in to put a new support beam in here, but I don't think it'll be necessary."
"Why?"
The engineer shrugged.
"According to my GPS, we're under the Folly. Only a few people come out here, and they aren't the type to report a new sink hole to the city."
"You know where we are?" Dale asked as he walked by with a cardboard box of stuff he'd gathered, "How do you-?"
"Global Positioning," the engineer grinned as he waved his watch at them, "Oh, I get it. You guys deal with so many weird contraptions, you forget about the normal ones. I'm not knockin' ya, it happens to me, too. Yesterday, I forgot how to set the clock on my DVD player, can you believe that?"
"But you know where we are," Draven stroked his jawbone, "Something seems a little, I don't know, dangerous about that."
"Well, I don't know exactly where we are," the engineer clicked on his communicator and muttered into it, "John. Yeah, it's me. I'm almost done here... Maybe another hour or so. Where am I again? Ah. We're under the northwestern section of the Folly, guys, but that's as close as I can call."
"And now we know!" Psycho13 chortled as he sped past, "Thanks!"
----------
--Grey's Army Base--
Chuck pressed a button on his remote control. He and the rest of the BWO crew watched as a cloud of green flame rushed up behind the NHS interlopers and consumed them before the feed went dead. They cheered briefly before turning to each other to determine what else there was to do.
"I say we investigate other old Committee businesses," Reynolds explained, "We're bound to find out where this New Horizon is based and then we can take the fight to them!"
"It sounds like a plan," James muttered, "But maybe they'll just leave us alone now, you know? I mean, everything's even now, right? Sure, we're still alive and all, but look what it cost us to fight them off. If we left them alone, you'd think they'd figure we got whipped bad enough."
"Except for one thing," Draven had his sword balancing on its tip on the floor as he twirled the weapon around lazily, "We've got Chuck. As long as we have him, we have evidence of their criminal behavior. Now, we're not really law-enforcers, but we've had our fair share of what some locals call 'hero work.' It won't be long before the Syndicate sends another round of goons after us."
The group looked amongst each other and the rest were looking to their two leaders. Draven and James looked to each other and sighed.
"We'll have to duel to see where we go with this, won't we?" James sighed, "It's not like we can just play a game of cards or put this to a vote. I mean, who here cna truly be considered unbiased?"
"Lord knows I just want to have this over with," Levi muttered, "I've been through too much. I don't... I don't even know what I'm saying half the time anymore, guys. One second I'm all manic and happy, the next I'm like this, all mopey... Then there are the nightmares... I remember what it felt like when they did this to me... I want them to pay, I want this over with... It's all too much."
"Your brother has a point," Solo nodded to James, "He deserves some revenge."
"But I don't want you guys to suffer for me," the regenerator added, "It's my revenge."
"Well, you're suffering as it is, man," Draven patted his shoulder, "I mean, we just nuked your music collection."
"Nah, I saved the songs on a second hard drive. What I need now is a transmitter, then I'll have the ultimate MP-Three player again."
"We almost went to prison because of those [butt]holes!" Matt suddenly shouted as he waved at himself and Daren, "An entire stadium, down in flames just so they could mess with us like we were puppets! No! I am not going to let them get away with that!"
"That was years ago, Dirty," James interrupted, "With all the times we've talked to the cops, if you two were supposed to be arrested it would have been done by now."
"Well, that's a good point, Jimmy," Daren chuckled at the glowering his skull-clad friend gave him, "Frankly, I'd like to hear what my brother has to say about this..."
"I say we haul this stuff to the derrick and get back to our transport business," Dale shook his head, "Sorry guys, but I don't feel like fighting a war. Besides, now that we aren't moored to the Big Two, we can really branch out our services."
"I meant Dustin," the stalker murmured, "Where is he?"
----------
--A Sunken Hole Just North of the Old Rikti Crash Site Gate--
The cyborg that was once Agent Curtis 1093 pulled itself out of the rubble and looked at its body. Flesh was hanging off its metal-plated skeleton, it couldn't see out its left eye, but the right eye was able to compensate for the lost depth perception.
Curtis wasn't like a lot of other agents, he was one of the more heavily reinforced types. He had an autonomous artificial intelligence, indeed, it may have been the actual personality of the corpse his cybernetic components were built into; but he wouldn't know that personally since his mind had been programmed to obey the will of the New Horizon Syndicate.
A group of Freakshow Tanks were standing at the edge of the pit and looking down at him. They must have thought he was another hero, because they started launching grenades and circular saw blades at him. When the smoke cleared, however, Agent Curtis stood in the center of the pit, holding one of the blades in his right hand.
"Normally, you'd all be dead by now," his mechanical voice emitted tinnily from his throat, "But I have better things to do right now, so get lost."
"No way, cape!" one tank shouted as he trundled down into the hole with him, "You just ruined our basketball court, you're gonna pay for it with your... Your... Hide?"
"I bet his parts would make some pretty cool implants!" a Swiper shouted.
"Yeah!" the Tank laughed before the saw blade the agent threw sunk into his forehead and he dropped to the ground.
The rest looked on, horrified, as Agent Curtis pulled the impromptu weapon out of their friend's head and turned to the others. He reared back to throw and they scattered. There was an electric sound as the Tank behind him somehow came back to life.
"That's unusual," Curtis muttered as the young man grumbled and held a clawed hand near his head, "I could have sworn this thing cleaved into the right half of your brain."
"Well, that's the beautiful thing about Excelsior," the Tank barked, "It can fix ANYTHING! You just have to have enough of the stuff."
"Well, your friends ran off. If you don't want me chopping off the top half of your head with this thing, you should do the same."
The Tank nodded and ran off. He'd gotten the hint that this was no hero he was dealing with. When he was gone, Curtis clicked on his transponder and sent a signal to the nearest NHS Retrieval Unit.
"Mission failed. Special Unit heavily damaged. Support teams wiped out. Base destroyed. Targets escaped. They knew we were coming."
There was a rumbling in the rocks and Agent Curtis whipped around, popped a panel open on his chest and reached into the compartment there to draw an energy pistol all in one smooth motion. He fired a couple rounds into the dirt. In a world like this, one could never be certain what would be coming out after you.
When the ground stopped shaking, Curtis let out a sigh of relief that he didn't have to fight a Devouring earth monster. However, as he turned around, his relief was replaced rapidly with anger and alarm. Dustin Simms, King Slater in the BWO, stood before him with a black spiked mace in his hand. Curtis fired a shot, but crystalline armor suddenly spiked out of the tanker's body and deflected the energy round. More armor followed in quick succession afterward, including the thick dirt that wrapped around his legs and rooted him to the ground.
Slater smashed the pistol aside with one swing of his Black Mauler, then smashed the cyborg back with a backhanded attack. Curtis kipped himself off the ground, but Slater was gone once he landed on his feet. When he whirled around, scanning anywhere he thought the tanker could be, a rumbling caught his attention and he came back around to find Slater rising from the earth behind him.
The tanker caught a hold of Agent Curtis' throat and slowly started lifting him into the air. It wasn't super strength that enabled the young man to do it, but raw determination.
Seeing an opportunity to extricate himself, Curtis chopped into Dustin's elbow, but this only succeeded in causing him to be brought closer to his enemy's face. Slater growled, smacked him on the side of his head with his mace, then lifted the machine straight into the air. Curtis had a dim memory of this sort of maneuver before he was brought crashing back to the rubble.
Before the agent could get back up, Slater lifted the Mauler and smashed it into his metallic skull. He repeated this two more times as he held the enemy down. Though a contender wasn't meant to perform his own "three-count," Slater made sure the falls were steady, even and fair. Agent Curtis just never seemed inclined to "kick out" of the count and wound up losing to pinfall.
"That's why you're not a contender," the tanker chuckled to the prone body.
A humming sound alerted him to the floating limousine behind him. The windows were tinted, so he couldn't see who was inside as it started to fly away. So, he picked up a rock and threw it at the rear-passenger window. A moment later, the vehicle came back down and Slater stared impassively for its passengers to reveal themselves. The door opened and Angela Greene stepped out with a sigh.
"So, you are behind this."
"Where's Charles?"
"I'm not telling you that," Dustin tapped the Mauler against his calf as another large, business suit-clad man exited the limousine on the other side.
"Well, then at least let us have that corpse," she implored the tanker, "One, we will fight you for it, and two, we need to know who ordered him to hunt you and your friends down."
"I think I'm staring at her."
"You are such a simple-minded fool," the red-haired woman growled, "If I were to be seeking your destruction, I wouldn't be so obtuse as to utilize the personal resources of New Horizon. I would have hired rogues from out of the Etoile Isles."
"I'll remember that," the tanker grumbled.
"Look, Slater, I want to know who's behind this as much as you do."
"That has nothing to do with Chuck."
"In order to know what I'm looking for, I need all the information I need!" she shouted.
"Well, you're gonna have to make do with this wreck," Slater kicked the body aside a little, "He should be a direct line to whatever is doing all of this."
She and her apparent bodyguard watched the young man walk away. When he was safely gone, the two looked at each other and shrugged.
"I was expecting a fight," she fixed her hair a little in relief, "I guess we're just lucky it was him and not one of the others. As I understand it, they tend more toward the 'Scorched Earth' policies."
"I'll get the head," the large agent said as he started pulling the cranium off the comatose body, "You activate the charges once we're safely away."
"Yes, sir."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
((This is the end of the separate BWO stories. I wanted to see if I could run this as a parallel story, but in the end, the characters just didn't inspire me with enough material. They more or less satisfied a few ideas in my head (such as hitting Tyrant with the drop ship, fighting the Thunder Nimbus and even the battle with the Rikti during the second invasion). Afterwards, the characters ceased to really have much of their own character in my head and started to be relegated to being little more than support characters for my other, more favored projects.
For the further adventures of the Brutal Warriors Order, please continue reading Grey's Army, as they will show up in that story thread from time to time. I hope you've enjoyed reading this broken narrative, even if the storyline was a little borked at times (I really wish I could have included the rooftop battle scene between the BWO and the forces of Chuck Reynolds, but other situations at the time forced me to rush past it and refer to it in passing). I hope the action was enough to keep your interest, as the major point behind this thread was to help me with my action writing.))
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
I for one enjoyed it very much. Bravissimo. 
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
What Devious said. A damn good run, Grey.
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
((Screw it, I've got a story in mind for this that won't fit in Grey's Army. Ill try to keep the pacing better this time.))
In London, there is a schism. There are the great, historic buildings, and then there are the modern, cold skyscrapers. While skilled photographers still portrayed the great city as it was, those who prepared to pave the way for its future toiled in grand obscurity.
Far from the glow of the citys War Walls, the New Horizon megacorporation worked to assert its will over the other companies based throughout the city. Led by the mysterious Triumvirate, and backed by the Committee, they struggled to show that the company was the premier economic power in the United Kingdom.
The Crey Corporations interference wasnt helping matters. Wherever New Horizon made a bid, Crey countered with a larger one. Even if the companies chose the syndicate over the Countess, they found themselves inexplicably mired in legal issues and failing stock.
Still, the Triumvirate knew how to deal with such matters. Crey employed a nasty little wetwork program, but it was hardly as efficient or uncompromising as New Horizons.
The few battles that had taken place throughout the past years had worn the more popular corporations patience. However, instead of sending a group to eradicate the companys heads, the Countess apparently decided to send her man to negotiate a merger.
Of course, the Triumvirate knew better. It was a hostile takeover.
Unfortunately, Mister Hopkins, the eldest member of the Triumvirate, Carl Sinclaire, explained, Were not open to negotiation. New Horizon belongs to my siblings and me, and any publically traded stock is currently in the hands of our very capable Committee.
Its just Hopkins, the large man replied, and the Countess was hoping youd be more understanding. We would hate to see such capable talent go to waste.
Our talent will hardly be going to waste, another male voice calmly replied from the other side of the room.
Hopkins turned to see a young man and woman walk into the office from a side door. Their movements were precise and flawless. It was as if they were gliding as they moved.
Surely you understand the importance of competition in free enterprise, the woman said.
The phrase was friendly, but the tone was not. It had a distinct edge to it, and an implied threat.
My Countess will not be pleased if I return with this as your decision, Hopkins warned, This could be very easy. Very simple. You could all have powerful positions within Crey, and the resulting company would have the economic strength to-
Were not interested, Colin Sinclaire interrupted, Please, leave us.
Hopkins nodded and made his way to the exit. As he did, he straightened his collar and pressed a button hidden on his cufflink. He didnt realize the maneuver was noticed, however.
Once he was out of the building and on his way to the airport, the Triumvirate siblings looked to each other. The youngest, Colin, shook his head angrily.
Did he really think that planting evidence during the tour was going to be enough to do us in?
Of course not, Cassondra replied, Im certain that in short order, a group of Paragon Protectors will be on their way to find the documents and arrest us. Even if we fight back, theyll think that the scandal will ruin the company.
They obviously underestimate British tenacity, Carl muttered as he stared out the window, Here they come. Whats the plan?
To fight, of course, his sister said as she reached into the left breast of her suit to withdraw a surprisingly well-concealed energy pistol, If the Committee members were here, even they would agree that we cant let Crey push us around.
Indeed, Colin muttered as he and Carl both drew their pistols at the exact same time, Its time to show these idiots that were not going to be pushed around.
The other two took positions flanking Carl as they gazed out over the city through their floor-to-ceiling windows. It was a spectacular view, one half being the modernized London, the other being the classic view. It was the perfect mural for the goals of the company, an illustration of the advancement of humanity.
As they gazed about, a set of seven specks started to grow and take on definition. Shortly, the Triumvirate was able to make out the yellow trim and visors against the Protectors blue outfits. They were flying in fast, and they were heading straight for their office.
Make sure that McGinley chap gets an extra week of vacation time for taking care of that evidence for us, Carl intoned moments before their windows were blasted in by the Protectors that wielded energy powers.
The trio stood there calmly as the broken glass swirled dangerously around them and was sucked out of the building by the current. The central Protector swooped in and stood before Carl, unintimidated despite the height difference as the large man gazed impassively into his reflection on the helmet of his assailant.
Sinclaire siblings, the mans peculiar, throaty voice emitted from the bottom of the helmet, We have reason to believe that fiscal malpractice and illegal operations have been orchestrated by you and the ruling body of your company
Carl didnt answer the man. Instead, he just pushed his left arm out and shoved the offending spandex-clad clone out the window. As the other Protectors prepared for battle, some with glowing fists, others popping out claws and spikes, the central one flew back up into view, his fists glowing dangerously.
You just made the biggest mistake of your life! he shouted before blasting an incandescent stream into Carl.
When the blast faded, the big man remained. He was unfazed by the assault, but his suit jacket was irrevocably destroyed. His skin was singed, but he didnt seem to be hindered by any sort of pain. Instead, he raised his pistol, aimed, and fired a bright beam that tore clean through the lead Protectors head. His siblings followed suit, dropping one more as Colins target was quick enough to avoid being shot.
The Protectors dove in after them. Colin felt claws scrape against his cybernetic chassis, meaning his dermal layer would need to be repaired before he could return to the night life. He responded by delivering a series of hard martial chops to his assailant in blinding succession. He broke bones and his final strike was hard enough to sprain the anonymous womans neck muscles. As she dropped, he punted her into the one his sister had just finished twisting around and breaking the wrist joint and ribs. She had caught the man before he could even lay a hand on her, pirouetted, and delivered a series of rapid-fire kicks that were capped off with her target getting knocked aside.
Impassively, she aimed her energy pistol at the heap and fired two shots, casually ending the lives of the two broken Protectors.
Carl was busy smashing three accosting him on his own. His fists hammered into them like tank shells and he was hardly a stranger to other martial maneuvers such as knees and kicks. He delivered an uppercut to one foe, knocking him into the ceiling, and performed a perfect side kick that sent another assailant sailing into the wall. Both slumped still to the floor, their bodies broken beyond repair.
The last Protector saw his chances of success had just dropped drastically. These three were apparently a lot more powerful than any intelligence reports could possibly convey. Without a word, he fled out the broken window and started rocketing into the distance. He would have to get back to Crey and explain what hed seen so that new tactics could be employed.
Carl, Cassondra and Colin watched the retreating generic hero. They knew enough about the Protectors to know that nobody would miss the ones theyd killed here. Nobody would miss this one, either, and he had to disappear before their secret could be revealed.
Full power, Carl ordered, We wouldnt want his body landing on some random motorist
The three raised their pistols and pushed the energy discharge indicator switches forward with their thumbs. Without saying anything, they fired, Cassondra and Colin first, then Carl.
In the distance, the Protector thought hed escaped. They werent able to fly, apparently, nor did they seem to have any other conveyance. Just as he was starting to feel comfortable in his escape, his right leg vaporized. As he started to scream, his right arm vanished in fire and pain as well, spinning him about as he lost control. A final beam of energy slammed into his chest and he could feel his body disintegrate from the inside out.
All that remained of the Protector, his helmet, smashed against the corner of an old building. The pieces rattled against the street below, causing one of the Bobby police to wonder at just who was littering (and what the heck it was) on his patrol route when he found the small bits.
----------
We were unsuccessful, Hopkins explained to the Countess through the visitor window, They have resources we werent expecting.
I understand, she replied.
The orange jumpsuit was exceptionally unflattering for her in Hopkins opinion. She was better-suited for finer dress.
Fortunately, because of her status, she wasnt placed within the general population. Unfortunately, that meant getting her out would be a lot trickier. It would require some precise manipulations in both the legal system and the government. That meant bribes, and a lot of them.
It left the corporation teetering on the edge, but both Hopkins and the Countess were confident they could weather the storm. However, they would need the resources of the New Horizon Syndicate to do it.
Theyre ingenious, she sighed as she perused the images she received of Hopkins memories of the fight, Theyre exceptionally capable
We simply must absorb them into the company.
Well try again, the large man replied, Perhaps we should look into this Committee. Rumors have it that they started as a mercenary organization here in the States.
Do what it takes, Hopkins, the Countess sat back in her chair, exuding authority despite her outfit, For everything.
Yes maam, the large man said as he stood, Guard. Were done.
The security guard, his mind in a fog, shook his head clear and escorted the large man out. His counterpart, the heavy-set woman on the other side of the divider, did the same for the Countess. They couldnt recall the past hour, apparently theyd spent the whole time thinking about their families, bills and other mundane matters.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
That's a good opener. I'm interested in seeing what happens next.
Back Alley Brawler nodded proudly as the fires continued to consume the coca fields surrounding the compound (the main buildings of which were also burning). Mercenary guards were being rounded up by the band of heroes hed brought with him and an energy field Defender-class was sealing them up in a large green bubble that would keep them from leaving before the Bolivian police arrived to take them to jail. It was a strong blow in the ongoing war on drugs.
He turned to the members of the group that had proven to be an unusual addition. Matt Jones, Mark Shadow and Justin Steel, three renegades from out of the Rogue Isles, had been members of the boat crew that had shipped them up the Amazon, the Madeira, and much of the Beni. Steels mercenary crew was also helping round up the thugs who had been patrolling the plantation just a few hours ago.
They were surprisingly receptive to the idea. Brawler had needed a surreptitious method of easing into the country, and Manticore had pointed him in their direction. They then noted that his crew was lacking in manpower for a job like this, and the three rogues volunteered to help, for a price, of course. Still, what they asked was hardly out of the question (the price doubled the charges for the trip), and their presence was spectacularly helpful.
Steels mercenary crew, with their gun company-sounding names, were helpful in dispatching numerous guards before the rest even knew anything was going on. Brawler was even more surprised that they were prepared with tranquilizer ammunition.
Were not villains nor are we monsters, Steel explained, If we can avoid taking lives and afford doing it, thats what well do. Its surprisingly cheaper than youd expect, anyway. Besides, its better for us, if we wish to have future employment opportunities like this, to adhere to the codes of conduct provided by those on your side of the fence.
When the battle was almost done, it turned out the plantations owner, a man with the simple last name of Garza, was some form of meta-human. He used his power to manipulate gravity to lift and hurl heavy objects like his freight trucks at the attacking heroes. Jones had taken one to the face, but had been able to absorb most of the shock with his sledgehammer. Mark Shadow then hurled a pair of Seeker Drones at the man, which distracted him long enough for Brawler to get in close and deliver a solid right cross that knocked Garza out cold.
It was an exhilarating couple of hours, and the whole crew was happy to have helped out a veteran among heroes. Back Alley Brawler, however, was glad to have some new information to relate to Freedom Phalanx. Their whole parading throughout the world with a Longbow entourage was definitely going to have to go. How could they get anything accomplished if they were always advertising their presence? He couldnt count the number of times hed had to regroup and reconsider his plans just because the red-and-white escort had done a better job of drawing attention to him and brought villains and rogues down on his head than actually protecting him.
Nasty habit, there, he muttered jokingly to Jones as the brute sat on a rock and smoked a cigar, I trust thats legal.
Of course! Dirty Ice replied as he started fishing through the backpack by his side, Im not about to go and break the law with so many capes around.
There was derision in the term, but Michael could tell it was for the term, not for the people.
See, I havent got a problem with something like pot
the Brute continued, But if its on a plantation like this or hardcore drugs like this was all going to be, they're just making money off loser dope fiends who need to have the source cut off. The bastards need to be-
One of the labs exploded. The Brawler mildly wished they could have kept some of the equipment as evidence, but the local authorities assured them everything would be fine. He didnt like to think about what that meant, but he couldnt expect the Third World nations to be able to take the precautions the more developed nations could. For them, Crime was a war, and it would be a long, expensive and damn near futile one if they didnt take a lot more chances than he was used to the authorities taking back home.
That, Matt indicated the explosion with a cigar box he withdrew from his backpack, Want one?
Sure, the big man replied as he took a cigar from the offered box, So, youve got no beef with marijuana?
Not in the personal sense, Jones grimaced as he seemed to be remembering something, I mean, I tried it as a kid, heck, I even grew the stuff. Dont look at me like that. Its not a difficult thing to do... But theres so much stupid [dung] surrounding it
Its not worth going to jail over
It's a cheap drug, easy to grow, and maybe once all the illegal stuff is taken care of, maybe then work can be done about legalizing it. For now, too many idiots are getting rich off something you can grow just by throwing into your back yard. That ain't right.
Justin Steel and Mark looked pointedly at their brutish friend and he nodded vigorously as he shrugged.
Hey, that's just my opinion... I'm not saying it needs to be made legal, just that if any serious consideration is going to be made for it, they're gonna have to clear out what's already wrong with it.
So youve been through the penal system, eh? Brawler chuckled between puffs of his cigar.
Yeah. It wasnt so bad, but after listening to a bunch of pubescent thugs tell me what I did wrong, what to watch out for and other assorted anecdotes of criminal behavior, besides all of the macho posing, I decided Id had enough. It was too much work breaking the law. Where was the fun? Where was the adventure?
His skin suddenly erupted into flames and he smirked.
This here
What we did today
Now thats fun!
So
You dont partake anymore, do you?
Not lately, not in the past few years, Jones picked himself up off the rock and stretched, I havent had the time. Lifes been too full of other things to do.
They admired the burning hacienda again and he waved at it. The Brawler smirked and turned to join the heroes who were finishing up the final roundup.
The authorities are here, sir, the young woman, Wrathfire, announced as he arrived, They said theyre ready to take these men to jail.
Michael nodded and greeted the police officer in the lead. Again he was struck by the similarity to war as they looked less like cops and more like soldiers. They were friendly enough, and he learned that the only one they really wanted was Garza.
Its men like him that are making this work so much more difficult lately, the captain explained, So many of our talent have been going to your country to make names for themselves. We try to encourage them to help, but, ah, young people today
I understand. Well, dont hesitate to call for help. We do it free of charge
He glanced at the men who were approaching from behind and smirked.
Unlike some people.
Thanks for helping us, guys! Wrathfire shouted as she ran up and hugged Mark, I havent seen you guys for a couple years now!
Youre that chick who used to hang out with Kip, Shadow gasped as he regained his breath, Jebus, you almost cracked a rib
Its not often we get villains helping us, the force field Defender, a man named Ennervator, said breathlessly, his awe at working with someone like Back Alley Brawler clearly evident.
Im not used to working with pretentious blowhards, Dirty Ice replied, his flames flaring dangerously.
When the other man looked worriedly to Wrathfire, the woman folded her arms across her chest and arched an eyebrow at the brute. Matt rolled his eyes and nodded apologetically.
And thank goodness neither of us has done either, Justin Steel interjected, Were mercenaries, nothing more. Thankfully, the only contracts weve gotten so far have only been security jobs and work like this. We remain in good standing with people like your boss over there.
Sir, Mr. Kolt announced as he and the other mercenaries arrived, Weve finished combing the grounds for any remaining cartel members. All have been captured or accounted for.
Accounted for?
Not everybody can survive, sir, the big mans posture didnt change, but his tone was slightly somber, Some fled into the oncoming flames.
Thats unfortunate.
No need to stick around, though, Matt growled, We cant be held accountable for the stupidity of others. Its time for us to go.
Indeed, the Brawler was gesturing for everybody to get into the back of the truck the Bolivian police had provided. Theyd have to go to Sucre to fill out some forms and deliver some statements, but soon enough theyd be on their way home.
You guys certain you can take a plane back home? Michael asked Justin on the way.
Yes, the mercenary leader replied, Ringo already took the boat home once wed landed. He and his crew have too much need for it to just sit around waiting for us. Besides, it'll eat into the bill you owe us.
"Good, good," the big hero smirked as he started picturing the paperwork he'd have to fill out with Freedom Corps, "Now that's good business."
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
Jared Simms arrived in the Greys Army base and sighed. Kip was standing in front of the arrival point, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes quirked to indicate that he was extremely aggravated.
What the Hell did you think you were doing?
What do you mean, Kip?
The scrapper grabbed him by the shoulder surprisingly roughly and dragged him further back into the recent expansion of the base. They passed through a rather simple teleportation room and into what would have looked to be a storage room
Except it wasnt. On the far wall, there was a platform overlooking a podium with the BWOs Buzzsaw symbol hovering in front of it. On the north wall was a set of tapestries, each one with a different letter marking them as B-W-O. The southwest corner was stuffed with collapsible office cubicles next to the podium, with a set of chairs lining the south wall and capped with a wooden desk that had a phone on it. The north floor had a set of cots strewn haphazardly about. Dominating the center of the room was a platform, a platform with four corners that had barrels stacked on top of gray polymer (Kip assumed it was carbon fiber) boxes.
It was an arena, just like theyd built in their other two bases. Kip didnt understand the logic. In fact, he believed there was no logic. His friends were a pack of unruly teenagers, still, and they had little to no clue what they were doing.
This, Jared
And whats with these torches?
Jared looked to the torches lining the entrance ramp and shrugged.
We had to set up our operation somewhere, man.
You- Kip stopped and collected his thoughts before continuing to berate the red-coated young man, This isnt an operation, Jared. This is the same juvenile crap you were pulling in high school
Lay off, man, Simms barked back, Dont you think I know that? But you tell Matt and James that they have to hole up in here, near-godlike power coursing through their veins and tell them they cant use any of it or theyll wind up locked up in the Zig because they con bad guy, and try living with them then!
So, what? This is where they vent?
Jared nodded and shrugged. Kip looked at the ring and shuddered a little.
Look, man, its not all bad. We kept our stuff t this corner room, here, and you guys still have the rest of your base.
Yeah, but we had a purpose intended for this room, Kip muttered, We were going to put some of our gear in here, and Sheldon was probably going to build us another robot
Oh
Forget it, man, its fine
If Randy werent so involved in that new microbrewery he put in the old power room, though, hed be on your [butts] about this.
Draven nodded. From the main room, they heard conversation. More people had arrived and they walked over to see what was up.
Justin Steel and Charles Reynolds met them in the new teleporter room on their way to the BWO office. The two were discussing contracts and the recent funds they received from Freedom Corps for the efforts of Dirty Ice, Mark Shadow and Justin. Steel looked up at them and grinned a little.
I take it you werent informed of our intentions to utilize a portion of your base as our new office, he muttered.
No, Kip replied, But so long as you dont go blowing this base up, itll be fine. Theres a building of people on top of us, and it wont do to be having it come crashing down.
Kip rapped his fist on one of the pillars that helped support the weight above them.
Thats what these are here for. To keep them up there while were down here.
We understand, Kipland, now, if youll excuse us, weve got some contracts to negotiate with the rest of the boys
----------
Youre not going to believe this, Chuck explained as he handed pages to each of the gathered members, Ashwin Lannister, from Hero Corps, he called us up and offered us some information
A small medical cybernetic company
Working for Hero Corps means inevitably working for Crey, Project Whirlwind interjected, you sure we want to commit to this?
Well, we will when you learn who it is. Jonas Silver
The rest of the Brutal Warriors looked blankly at Reynolds. After half a minute, he realized they didnt know whom he was talking about, so he explained.
Jonas had a small medical supply company
Back home, he ran an ambulance service, but that was just one of his endeavors, the one that financed his investments. His investments, however, were what paid off in the end and wound up being the driving force behind the Committee. He had his fingers in all sorts of technology companies, and after a while, hed bought majority and merged a number of them into Silver Medallion Medical Supply, a company that specializes in prosthetics and brain-computer interfaces. Its very likely that its the research his company did that made the agents weve been fighting possible.
Psycho13 didnt seem to be taking the backstory too seriously, though.
No way, man. There is no way some small company from Bum-[frick], New York is going to be able to become an economic powerhouse that easily!
Thats how the Committee worked, Levi. In order for them all to rise up above any future possible competition, they aided and assisted each other. To cut costs on transport, my father would ship materials between his dealerships in his cars. He did it for all the other companies, and they were able to steadily bring themselves to prominence in their respective fields because one of the heaviest costs to a growing company was practically cut down by two thirds for all of them. Thats why my dad was on the Committee, and why I inherited his seat
And since they didnt need you anymore, James chuckled, They got rid of you.
Yeah
Anyway, you dont have to believe it for it to be real. Thats the funny thing about business, theres so much going on that you cant see and they grow or fall so fast
Well, what does Hero Corps want us to do? Draven finally gasped, exasperated.
They want us to look into their next shipment. Endo-skeletal prosthetics.
----------
As the group prepared, James pulled Jared aside. He seemed concerned, but the scrapper couldnt begin to imagine what about.
Have you talked to Wild? Rage asked.
No. Should I have?
Jare, what are we supposed to do? We cant keep braining each other in here
You could always hop on the Dream and get out of here.
Yeah, Matt and Mark dont want to do that all the time
You could always hop on some of those mercenary missions, make some good money for beating the crap out of people
James looked back to the others to make sure they werent listening, then leaned close to Jared.
Look, they turned Levi into some kind of freak, and I want in on the revenge. Thats my brother, man.
Draven nodded and shook his head at the same time.
Look, man, were just running an investigation, maybe doing an interview or two. We cant call up Wild for every little instance, otherwise hes gonna get ticked and probably look into either suspending our licenses or even getting us locked up
He cant do that
I know, but hell still make a hassle for us and then where will we be? We wont be able to patrol Paragon, the hub of civilization without having to check when and where we can step
Everything that happens in the world travels through here at some point, and Id rather not feel like Ive had my feet cut out from underneath me because we irritated the guy in the authority we deal with.
James nodded and walked away. His agitation at the situation was clearly evident in the heavy way he walked back to the office. Draven closed his eyes and sighed. There wasnt much helping their situation. They didnt have a base in the Rogue Isles and even if they tried to establish a new one, theyd be either heavily scrutinized by Arachnos or just as easily found by the New Horizon Syndicate. Here, at least, only a few people knew where the Greys Army base was, and the Syndicate hadnt thought of asking any of them (not that it would do them much good, anyway, and the more heroes knew of the Syndicates presence, the worse it was for them).
The best they could do was investigate the Silver Medallion and hope they got a lead. With any luck, it would be enough to give his "red-side" friends some walking room. James, especially, needed the leniency, as those skulls on his chest and shoulder couldn't be covered up or removed, and it just wouldn't do for him to be attacked by super-powered hooligans and not be able to defend himself.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
Instead of barging into the company, guns blazing, Draven figured it would be best to simply take the corporate tour. He brought Reynolds along with the group, which comprised of himself, King Slater, Bull-Thistle, Psycho13, and Project Whirlwind. He would have preferred bringing his cousin Dale with them, too, but he was busy helping the Air Guard refit their ships with what he called a Deflection Matrix.
To make up for the lack of support, he had Dales older brother shadowing them. He knew hed catch Hell for letting a Stalker utilize his powers in-city without oversight, but he couldnt risk anybody getting the drop on them.
Silver Medallion Medical Supply wasnt known for great breakthroughs in medical science, but they were extremely adept at innovations and improvements in efficiency. Some of the better combat prosthetics employed by heroes (and rogues) were contracted to Silver Medallion for construction. However, one of the things that was getting massive fanfare lately was a new cybernetic endoskeleton, which was to be the breakthrough device to put Silver Medallion on the economic map.
According to Charles Reynolds, it would also lodge the New Horizon Syndicates metaphorical foot firmly in the doorway of American industry. That was the point to their consumption of the Committee in the first place.
The tour was part of the publicity scheme Jonas Silver was running. He fully expected to seal his position within the NHS, and drumming up popularity for his products would certainly accomplish that task. He had hired spin doctors and image consultants from across the city to help him advertise the new chassis. Local news, national news, even a number of respected Internet blogs were all contacted and invited to an exclusive demonstration. Unfortunately for Silver, he needed to fill his seats with respected members of the community, too, and that included heroes. Draven, after working some special coaxing with the Longbow Warden he was dating, was able to secure some invitations for him and his crew.
Once he saw Jonas Silver, he recognized him. The man simply looked evil. His head was little more than a skull with dark skin stretched over it. His hands were a perfect complement to the skeletal appearance, the bones of his knuckles poking out sharply in round knobs. It was hideously different from his business suit that he seemed to be drowning in.
Wheres Chuck? Slater asked.
Isnt he with-? Draven turned to look for the rest of their group and cursed, Whered they go?
Silver! Reynolds shouted over the gaggle of scientists that surrounded the man, Jonas Silver!
What? the man shouted back, then glared at Reynolds, Youre supposed to be
Oh, thats right. The sideshow busted you out
Sideshow? Levi baker grinned wickedly, Thanks. I guess that means we moved up in the world
The company CEO waved the scientists aside. They nodded and a security detail replaced them. The BWO adventurers looked to each other nervously as they recognized the telltale hard points and frighteningly pale skin that indicated that these suit-clad men were not entirely human.
I trust you wouldnt be foolish enough to cause problems here, Silver intoned, his voice surprisingly deep despite his frail appearance, I mean, we are a perfectly legal corporation, unlike some
The adventurers followed his glance to see some Crey personnel sitting nervously at the end of the front row. Despite the companys legal troubles, they were still a major supplier of just about every product found throughout the world, and it would be remiss for any company to think they could leave their representatives out of product unveilings.
Hero Corps is investigating you, Chuck growled, Any idea why?
You mean, aside from the fact that theyre practically run by Crey? I have no idea.
How about the harassment your friends here and their colleagues have been heaping on us? Project Whirlwind asked, pointing at the entourage, We lost two bases because of your stupid war
Its not like we were going to come after you.
Oh, I was coming after you, Psycho13 said almost maniacally, After what you [butt]holes did to me, I was coming after you
The faces of the agents didnt change much, but they shuffled about a little. They were clearing a path for their fire trajectories. It was something that always confused Baker and Brown when they fought the agents, they never seemed to have the tell-tale bulges that indicated their concealed energy pistols. Even the Crey Infiltrators and Security Agents couldnt conceal their advanced weapons in their suits that well.
Regardless, Chuck brought them back to point, We accepted the contract to investigate you, and while I hate having to advertise it, you have to submit to a surprise inspection.
When?
I was thinking now.
Silvers face twitched in agitation. He glared at the man and the heroes flanking him. As Draven and Slater caught up to them with Bull-Thistle following closely behind. The plant man saw him and looked away sheepishly. Silver was the man who hired him to attack the group the first time. It wasnt likely he was going to appreciate the turncoat mercenarys presence.
Ill accept these others investigating me, Silver answered, You, Charles, and you, Thistle, you stay here, in the demonstration hall. Mister Ingraham will escort you to our research and development laboratories.
Silver snapped his fingers and the agents seemed to disappear, leaving one. His eyes glowed red briefly and he started walking away, apparently unconcerned with whether or not his charges followed. Bull-Thistle stood nervously next to Reynolds and pulled him to the back of the audience.
They already had a rough idea of how the more advanced chasses worked. They didnt need to see the bare bones model.
Draven waved his investigating crew to follow after Mr. Ingraham. It was hard to think that the cyborg had a name, it was even harder to think he wasnt walking into a trap. Sighing, he made a few hand signals to where he told Solo to stay to inform him to keep an eye on Bull-Thistle and Charles Reynolds. He hoped the decision to keep his insurance policy watching over their ward wouldnt come back to bite them in the butt.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
The investigation was actually fairly bland. Draven kept pushing Ingraham to take them into various rooms marked Restricted or Secret, but what they mostly found were server farms or filing rooms. There was very little of anything incriminating.
Come on, Mister Ingraham, Jared growled, You know what were looking for. Where is the lab that made you?
The lab that made my chassis is in the Adirondack Mountains, the big man replied, In fact, Silver Medallion Medical Supplys facilities, all of them, are a matter of public record. The plant used to make the ones like whats being demonstrated upstairs is the same to make mine. In case you havent figured it out, were not simply the Destroyer.
Youre not far off, Levi muttered as he looked into a room where a group of men in clean suits opened a set of vacuum sealed containers and started organizing what looked to be metallic bones.
Regardless of what you may believe, we are not simply killing machines wrapped in flesh.
That explains why every one of you weve fought has exploded once it was beaten.
Mister Ingraham stared at Psycho13 for a moment before turning away and continuing with the investigative tour. The cyborg indicated that they were nearing the end of the inspection, as there simply werent anymore rooms to see. He brought them into a large, circular chamber. There were stacked crates and more vacuum-sealed boxes. A few security guards were posted at the entrance and in a couple spots along the walls (peculiarly, they were dressed in simple red utility suits and had one sidearm apiece; though Draven noted the sidearms that werent submachine guns were similar to the energy pistols wielded by the agents).
You can look, but dont open the crates, Ingraham explained, If you need any opened, please let me know so I may-
Thats enough, Mister Ingraham, a hollow voice rasped behind the heroes, Youve served your purpose.
Irritated, Project Whirlwind turned to yell at the interrupting individual, but his voice caught in his throat. Standing before him was a pale-faced man who stared right through him. Black paint was meticulously slathered on his face to cover half of one side, save the eye socket, and darken the eye socket of the other side in some kind of macabre yin-yang. The all-white eyes and iron nails poking up out of the mans forehead like some kind of demented crown didnt help, either.
Soultaker, Ingraham intoned, Shouldnt you be on patrol?
I am accomplishing my assignment, the man rasped as he stalked toward Psycho13, And I am taking my revenge!
With that, he raised his hands and hurled a batch of ethereal, screaming black skulls at the heroes.
----------
Upstairs, Charles and Bull took a pair of folding chairs and settled in. Silvers presentation opened with a few images of car wrecks and collapsed buildings. The man, as creepy as he looked, was actually a very verbose speaker, conveying how his company sought to help the victims of such horrific fates by restoring, in one fell swoop, the parts of the people that mangled beyond normal repair without damaging their natural appearance.
Full skeletal prosthesis is not an option, he explained as he gestured to the model of a full set of metal bones hovering next to him, It never will be. The natural skeleton is just as necessary to the body as your heart or liver. This skeleton is just a demonstration of what weve designed the system to support. We can repair the parts that simply will never be whole again. We can strengthen the bones that are genetically crippled and unable to withstand the average impacts one is subject to on a daily basis. With our prosthetic polymer endoskeleton technology, we can even help alleviate paralysis and massively reduce physical recuperation times.
What about physical enhancement? a woman asked suddenly.
Charles looked in the direction of the speaker, but he couldnt make her out of the crowd. He figured it was a Crey employee, though. He was already asking the same thing to himself, and the number of follow-up questions he came up with were staggering.
We intend to use these prosthetics to assist people in their recuperation, maam, Jonas intoned, Were not in the business of body modifications.
But you could make a person stronger with a specially designed endo-frame, correct? the woman pressed.
Reynolds was sure of it. If she wasnt with Crey, she was hired by them to sling mud. The problem was that she was an amateur, and Jonas Silver was too professional to be caught up in such a trap.
Unless
he muttered to himself, Thistle
What? the green man growled.
Either Jonas is staging this, or shes stalling.
What? What are you talking about?
Jonas isnt into theatrics, Charles stood up and folded his chair, And Crey doesnt hire amateurs for these public relations fiasco jobs
He looked out the door and crouched down, holding the chair up to protect him from some unknown threat.
You might want to do as I am, Bull
The plant-based hero looked askance at his former employer before the glass door next to him shattered inward, scattering broken glass across his body, lacerating him in numerous places. He blinked as if nothing had happened, then his body exploded in a batch of spikes.
Someones gonna- he got out before Charles pulled him away from the doorway.
Quiet! he hissed as a group of costumed freaks tore into the building and started shouting for everybody to kiss the floor.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
No! Agent Ingraham got out before Draven raked his broadsword across the cyborgs chest.
While the scrapper wondered at how the weapon seemed to just appear in his hand, Project Whirlwind hurled a burst of lightning into the agents open wound, charging the endoskeleton and electrocuting the body. Ingraham flashed brilliantly, his skeleton glowing sometimes through the rapidly charring skin, and collapsed on the floor of the storage room.
This proved to be the last straw for the security team, for they promptly drew their weapons and started firing. Red beams of energy lanced at the heroes, and Draven remarked, as they splashed against the dark shadows wrapped about his body, that they werent as powerful as the blasters the agents used against them. They were still annoying, though, and seemed to be eating into his armor just the same.
Whirl! Get the patrol! he shouted as he rushed into the guards.
What about Psych!?
He can take care of himself!
Indeed, Psycho13 could take care of himself. As the little shadowy skulls chewed on his arms and legs, his body regenerated and he pushed himself toward Project Soultaker. Drawing his blades, he made a warning swipe between the two of them and growled.
To think, you were used to fit these gimmicks together, the strange thing rasped, I suppose its all the same. I mean, it was little more than a marketing ploy.
Youre little more than a pale imitation of my nightmares, Baker replied, And Im gonna enjoy carving you open to see what brought you back!
He lunged forward, his blades extended in a manner so as to rake them down Soultakers shoulders and torso. Unfortunately, the strange sorcerer was skilled at some evasion and sidestepped out of the way. The next thing Psycho13 knew, he had been punched twice in the face, three times in the hip, and once more in the chin. Staggering backward, he rubbed his jaw with his thumb and took stock of how Project Soultaker had assumed a combat stance.
Oh, so you know how to fight now, huh?
I always knew how to fight, Soultaker replied, I cant say the same for my predecessor
Predecessor? So, youre a new guy
No, a skull appeared in the corrupters hand, The same
He hurled the ethereal cranium at the scrapper and Psycho13 wound up with it chewing into his chest. Screaming, the scrapper launched another assault, paying little heed to the damage being done to his torso as he carved into his enemys extended limbs. First, he swiped at Soultakers arm, then at his leg. He caught the corrupters thigh and Soultaker hissed, reached for the scrapper and pulled the energy out of the young man to heal himself.
Aw, no fair! Baker shouted as he staggered away, You dont get to fix yourself! Only I get to do that!
Draven and Project Whirlwind found that pummeling the Silver Medallion Guards was just as easy as pummeling just about any batch of goons. They just had those nasty laser pistols and nightsticks. Their body armor was fairly decent as well, but it wasnt terribly good at withstanding lightning blasts or freezing rain. Leaving the guards huddled in a corner, rubbing their singed arms and legs while their teeth chattered, Draven saw Psycho13 seemed to be having trouble.
Come on, man, I know you can do better than that!
I know, the other scrapper chuckled before suddenly appearing next to the corrupter, I just felt like giving him a sporting chance!
Project Soultaker jabbed an elbow into Psycho13s ribcage only to be rewarded with the scrappers blades snaked against his own ribs and dragged back, slicing open the armor and leaving a pair of profusely bleeding slashes. Soultaker screamed and was punched in the face. Psycho13 twirled his blades around, spun, and delivered a savage uppercut to Soultakers chin with a jump, knocking him backwards and catching him on the way down with a slash across the shins.
The corrupter screamed as he clutched at his legs while writhing on the ground. Draven was about to ask what they should do when they heard the explosion upstairs.
That has to deal with Chuck, Whirlwind groaned, I knew he wasnt going to leave this thing alone.
I think Jonas would make the first move, myself, Draven replied, I mean, I dont trust Chuck, either, but hes a broken man right now. He doesnt have power armor, he doesnt have guns, he doesnt even have weird powers. Hes our informant, he doesnt have anything to start something with.
He has us, Psycho13 countered, I think hes proving more than capable at pointing and sending us after the people who wronged him.
Jared stared at his friend. A gurgling sound could be heard emitting from his throat. This was punctuated by the sound of automatic weapons in the presentation floor above them.
You okay?
Yeah, the broadsword wielding hero sighed, Come on, lets go
When they were gone, Project Soultaker stopped groaning. He couldnt imagine why they wouldnt finish him off, but then, that wasnt his problem. Instead, he turned to the guards who were left behind with him.
This is going to hurt you badly, he growled as he crawled to them, But if youre strong of will, you might survive
He reached out to them, and the guards screamed as their life force was torn away to reconstruct the corrupter. Some of the energy spilled into Agent Ingraham, who hadnt detonated for some strange reason.
As the corrupter wandered off, the agent watched him go without moving the rest of his body. Even his breathing had been shut down, which he couldnt do for very long (two minutes was the preferred length of time, but he could push it to five). His files didnt indicate any covert surveillance on this facility, and the Soultakers definitely counted as covert surveillance.
It begged the question: Who was commandeering the Syndicates forces when the Triumvirate wasnt approving the actions of Special Human Resources? It had to be someone with clout, and that could only be someone in the Board of Directors. Ingraham knew the small group of heroes thought the Board was composed solely of Committee members, but the truth was that it had all sorts of executive heads from the companies that the Syndicate had absorbed. A few, like Jonas Silver, saw it as a means toward greater success, and obviously werent rocking the boat. However, there had to be many within the group that chafed at their loss of power. These individuals clearly saw the Order as some sort of threat, or they were simply trying to deal with an old nuisance; either way, they threatened the security of New Horizon with their clandestine criminal activities.
Suddenly, Ingraham considered a plan. He didnt know why hed never thought of it before. He would simply make himself available for such projects and use them to expose the conspirators. It struck him that this was possibly a symptom of corrupted programming, for agents werent supposed to be capable of self directed thought. However, he felt that he needed to run as he was in order to achieve the highest success for the company, so he started hatching his plan. The first step involved settling the current situation, which a staccato of gunfire indicated was far from over.
Pushing himself off the floor, he reinitiated his breathing and checked on the injured guards. They were unconscious, but alive. One was in critical condition. Instantly, the agent was pressing a nearby intercom button.
This is Agent Ingraham, calling the medical team. I have guards down in Storage Room D. Please respond immediately, we have severe injuries. And bring a flesh welder.
Sir? the voice on the other end asked.
For me. I have superficial wounds that must be repaired.
A team is on the way, sir. Theres a commotion at the presentation. Security is moving to deal with the situation. Do you wish to assist?
Yes. Have the tech with the flesh welder meet me at Elevator C.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
They werent some batch of everyday thugs, this crew. They were all costumed meta humans. One had fire radiating from his bubbling and peeling limbs, another was blue-skinned and had vaporous breath. Another had a gun grafted into his arm (or perhaps grown from it) and the fourth looked to be an over-muscled monstrosity.
Were here for the metal skeletons! the huge man barked at Jonas and his bodyguard, Doc Buzzsawll pay real good for tech like that!
Well thats too bad, Silver replied, He cant have them.
Buzzsaws a chick! the man with the gun arm shouted back.
Silver didnt say anything in reply, instead snapping his fingers. In an instant, the agents flanking him had their energy pistols drawn and aimed at the offending rogues. A hero near the front was pleading with the owner of the company to take the lives of the spectators into consideration. Reynolds figured the low-ranked cape was more concerned about his own life and his dawning realization that he wasnt prepared for a conflict of this magnitude.
The invading criminals werent impressed by the display. Theyd fought Creys agents before, so this was nothing intimidating to them. Bull-Thistle cringed inwardly as the frosty rogue waved his hands at the brute leading them and the big man was covered in ice armor.
The big man leaped at Jonas and the agents fired. The energy beams splashed harmlessly against the ice, though water was clearly splashing off with a hiss at each impact. The big man hammered the closest agent as the thin black man fell away from his grasp and the agent crashed into the back wall. Silver, on the floor, flicked his wrist and a prod was extended into his hand. Pushing himself back up, he jabbed the glowing end of the weapon into the brutes hip and the brute screamed angrily as a glow wrapped about him and his energy was drained away.
What? he gasped as he crumpled to his knees and tried to move his arms, What was that?
Many of your kind call it a Sapper, Silver replied, suddenly seeming very intimidating in his over-sized suit, I call it Insurance.
An agent stepped around his boss and lifted the brute to his feet. He then delivered an uppercut that lifted the big man off the ground which was followed by a roundhouse kick from another agent behind the thug that sent him hurtling through the air over his cronies and through the frame of the door they had busted down during their theatric entrance.
The villains did not take this as intimidation. They took it as a challenge. The man with the machine-gun arm screamed and started firing wildly over the crowd. Jonas was shuffled behind the agents as they took the sporadic hits. The crowd screamed in fear as the ice-covered man lifted a woman from them and started wrapping her in ice.
Nukus! Down! he shouted and the machine-gun armed man stopped firing.
Look, Silver, you can hide behind your things all you like! Us, well simply take our wrath out on all these innocent people until you meet our demands! You ready for some target practice, Nuke?
Oh yeah! the demented man shouted as he leveled his weapon on the frozen woman.
No! he heard from behind.
Turning, the corrupter saw black before seeing stars. He fell to the ground and Bull-Thistle stood in his place, his thorns extended and quivering dangerously. He held a steel chair in his hands and the seat had a small impact dent in it.
Thats all I can stands, he shouted as he tossed the chair at the fire-armed man, And I cant stands no more!
The fire-armed man caught the chair and a batch of the thorns smashed through the suddenly heated metal, stabbing into the brutes chest and injecting a chemical irritant. The big man screamed and started scratching at his torso until Thistle crashed into him and burst another volley of thorns into him, these ones smaller but more numerous.
As the fiery man crashed to the floor, chunks of ice slammed into the scrapper and he rolled over in pain. It wasnt so much that his plant-based cells couldnt handle the assault or that his regeneration couldnt repair the damage, but he wasnt really counting on the corrupter to be really capable of fighting.
He got back up and prepared to throw another volley of thorns at the criminal when he suddenly felt very weak. Coughing and gagging, he looked over to the man called Nukus and realized his other powers involved some form of chemical gas control, and he was emitting a withering stream at him.
You ready to die, hero? the ice corrupter chortled, you ready to die at the hands of Antarc-
A blur crashed into the ice-covered man as Psycho13 rammed into him. As he tried to get back up, the scrawny scrapper hammered the hilts of his blades against his face in rapid succession. Nukus tried to level his gun arm on the man but a blast of lightning sent a hideous shock up his arm instead. The weapon fired still, and the grenade went wide. It almost hit some of the audience members, but Draven and one of the attending heroes both dove for it, the two of them taking the brunt of the blast with their armor-like powers.
Are you alright? the other hero asked, who Draven suddenly realized was a woman.
Yeah, Im okay, he grunted, You?
Ill live
Psycho13 pulled the ice corrupter to his feet, rolled back and flipped the man over his head to crash into some of the chairs. He collided with a deafening metal crash and writhed about, clutching at his back. The other corrupter leveled his assault rifle again, but when he felt a gloved hand at his shoulder, he stopped.
Uh-uh, Project Whirlwind explained, his eyes crackling dangerously, I dont think so.
The corrupter smiled wickedly at him and he swung the weapon up at Whirlwinds head. A flurry of thorns hurtled through the air and connected with the weapon, ripping it out of the mans arm and pinning it to a wall. The corrupter screamed until a jolt of electricity went through his head and he passed out.
Jeez, look at his arm, Levi gasped as he looked at the weird man, Its got, like
Tentacles or something
A mass of writhing flesh grasped about from Nukus broken arm. It wasnt bleeding, but it seemed to be looking for the lost weapon, which now seemed to be no different from any other common assault rifle.
Agent Ingraham and a group of Silver Medallion security guards swarmed into the room after that. They shouted for everyone to remain calm while the situation was sorted out. There were many shouts of Over here, Clear, and Secure before the guards huddled the conscious meta humans next to the stage and leveled their weapons at them.
What do we do, sir? one guard asked Agent Ingraham, who was glowering at Draven with his glowing red eyes.
Gentlemen, let them alone, Jonas Silver announced as he pushed through his security entourage, They just got done saving all of these people. Its hardly good business to go and punish them for something they clearly had no hand in.
He leaned in close with Draven and muttered, At least, I assume youre not the type to hire lunatic thugs like that in an obvious attempt to assassinate me.
Who do you take us for? the red-coated swordsman hissed back, You?
Sir, there was an incident in the storage rooms below, Ingraham muttered, his eyes no longer glowing, I wont press for detainment, but we have much to discuss.
I would assume so, the old man sighed then turned to the crowd, Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption. I trust you wont take this as any lack of preparation on our part, as one cant truly expect what kinds of ruffians will burst out of the woodwork at any time in this day and age. Gentlemen, help these people, make sure nobody is injured
The guards set to work immediately and some of the heroes helped mend anyone who was hurt during the course of the fight. The fire-armed brute almost made another attempt on Silver, but wound up with several energy pistols in his face for his trouble. He wisely surrendered after that and glumly waited for the cops as a contingent of agents stood guard over him.
The Brutal Warriors did what they could to help, but their capabilities were limited in this case. Project Whirlwind could only use his mild healing magic to soothe the woman whod been frozen. She was thankful, but still emotionally distraught. When the police arrived, things seemed a lot more like clockwork, and everybody started breathing more easily. Nobody wanted to talk about the obvious tension between the Silver Medallion security guards and the BWO.
We should get out of here, Psycho13 muttered after giving his deposition to the police, We cant do anything else to help.
One thing before we go, Draven said as he turned to Reynolds, I swear to God, if youre trying to use us
You want to talk to Lannister with me? the other man growled, Im telling you, he came to me with this information.
Yeah, but you benefit when we hit these guys. This is the second time youve had us do something like this.
Last time, the place you checked on my advice was hit by Crey Industries. This time, a batch of freaks looking for cutting-edge tech. You guys dont let me so much as use a phone without somebody on hand to keep an eye on me, so tell me how I could be organizing this crap?
Draven narrowed his eyes at the other man, but said nothing. He didnt have an argument for his old foe, and he was certain he wouldnt come up with one in the next couple minutes. Instead, he just walked away and Chuck smirked smugly at him. Psycho13, however, smacked their charge lightly across the face and pointed to the door. As the group walked off, Jonas watched them go. He had a bad feeling that he hadnt seen the last of them.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
If he had to think about it, it should have been obvious. Doc Buzzsaw hadn't even asked for anything in return when Matt, James and he had demanded she give them all the information she could on the weird criminal mercenary "Nukus."
Jonas Silver had actually proven very amicable in helping acquire information on the strange man. Nukus had escaped from custody on his way to the Zig, aided by a group of strange ninja. Not wanting to let the man who ruined his presentation of the civilian model of the cybernetic chassis that ran the NHS' cyborg agents get away from justice, Jonas moved a large amount of his personal funds to locate the lunatic's hideout.
Silver got a big break from his Rogue Isle contacts. It turned out that Nukus' newest assault rifle had been manufactured by a demented mad scientist based in Sharkhead who worked for the Freakshow. He immediately contacted the Brutal Warriors and pointed them in the right direction. When they confronted Buzzsaw about the situation, she brightened at their approach and happily answered all of their questions.
It was strange that Nukus' hideout was under the Arachnos fortress in St. Martial. Solo Striker suggested that it was probably the best place to hide out because you could siphon off their power grid with a small operation and with all the messed up stuff going on at any given time in an Arachnos fort, it would probably never be noticed.
When the fluorescent lights clicked on with an electric squeal, however, Levi Baker was cursing his luck and wishing he hadn't taken point on the strange catwalk crossing over this section of sewer. It was like a deep chasm, and they could hear their voices echoing off the walls as they approached it. Throwing a pebble over the side was rewarded a few seconds later with a metal clinking sound.
He didn't like it going in, but they had little choice. Thus far, Psycho13 had been the one man in the group who could take massive damage and get back shortly afterward, ready to fight. If he got sniped by Nukus watching them through a night vision scope, he could pull himself back together and get back to looking for the psychotic *******.
The lights turning on weren't part of the plan, though. Shielding his eyes against the sudden brightness, Baker glanced about for the source of the change. As he looked up for a motion sensor, his heart dropped.
A resounding, metallic cackle answered his questions as to what was going on. It told him he wasn't hallucinating.
Silver Mantis stood in an alcove cut into the side of the brick wall, roughly twenty feet above the catwalk. She had her hands on her hips and a demented grin split her face.
"Hi," Psycho13 said as amicably as his sinking feeling would let him.
"You fool!" she shouted back, "I knew you'd be back someday! I knew you'd fall back in my clutches, but I never thought it would be this easy!"
"Uh..." the scrapper scratched his head and shrugged to his friends who were standing in the entrance to the tunnel at the beginning of the catwalk.
Draven motioned frantically for him to come back, but the metallic sounds of doors opening throughout the warrens and armored boots trundling toward them from all sides was disheartening. Instead, Psycho13 turned back to Silver Mantis and shook his head.
"Um... Look. We... We didn't come looking for you..."
"I know," the cybernetic dominatrix chuckled, "I had your description plastered throughout the Isles... I told anyone who would talk to Destined Ones that I wanted them to send you and your friends my way. Doc Buzzsaw called me after she saw you and sent you on your way... To your doom..."
She licked her lips and reached for a lever. After pulling it, the entire chamber seemed to roar and shake. Cringing, Levi knelt down and looked for what could be the source of the sound. A noise of wrenching steel below caught his attention and the sinking feeling suddenly turned to falling.
Below him, a pair of massive cylinders were spinning and gaining speed. They were covered in tines, blades and other sharp protrusions. A horrible slicing sound would occur every so often to show that some of the cutting objects hadn't been measured to their counterparts properly, but nothing locked up or stopped. Instead, the cylinders continued their inexorable spin and the scrapper started getting a bad feeling where this was going to go.
"Levi!" his brother shouted, the red electricity wrapped about his form flashing brightly and dangerously as he stepped on the catwalk, "Get over here! Come on!"
"Stay back!" Pscyho13 shouted, "Stay-!"
A spike interrupted him as it slammed into his right bicep and pinned him to the railing.
"What a shot!" Silver Mantis laughed, "I can't believe that worked!"
"Ugh... So what?" Psycho13 asked as he tried to pry the spike from the metal rail, "Now I'm stuck! You want me to fall down there, you're going to have to come up with something!"
She thought briefly on it, then threw another spike. This one stabbed into his leg and pinned it to the floor of the catwalk. She then hurled more, each one poking holes into the structure of the bridge and the adventurer realized what she was trying to do.
In desperation, and suddenly inspired by his memory of how to deal with losing an arrow, he pulled at his arm instead of the spike. The barbs, pointing back to the base of the projectile, allowed him to slide off, but it still took some effort. He then turned to his leg to do the same.
"Dammit!" she hissed and motioned for the soldiers behind her to take positions at the edge of the opening, "This is taking too long! Cut it down!"
The lead Crab Spider chuckled and drew a submachine gun. When he sprayed the catwalk with ammunition, the other Crab Spiders followed suit and rained bullets and energy throughout the chamber. The catwalk groaned and Psycho13 pulled free.
Unfortunately, that was when the catwalk gave and he fell. His brother tried to fly out to save him, but the hail of ammunition knocked him off course and the scrapper tumbled heedlessly into the Grinder.
Hitting the top of one of the cylinders, he felt the spikes and blades tear into his flesh. He never told his brother or their friends the truth. He could feel pain. He could feel anything. He felt EVERYTHING. From the sensation of bullets puncturing his skin to how his bones moved under his muscles, even the weird sheathe sensation when his muscles moved under his skin.
It was a lie that he thought would keep him safe. If his enemies didn't think he could feel the horrible things they were doing to him, they would probably stop doing them. It hearkened back to every time somebody had messed with him as a kid, because he would stop acting like it bothered him and they would stop doing what messed with him.
It wasn't working here, though. He remembered that horrible night, the night he spent as Silver Mantis' prisoner. There were things that happened that night he still hadn't told his friends. None of it really bothered him the way he was certain it would if he'd been "normal," his body had healed, but the memory of it made him wary of running into the psychotic woman again.
He didn't know he'd made an impression on her, though. Silver Mantis had dealt with regenerators before, but every one of them had despaired at being tortured to the point of passing out and being revived within moments to have the process start all over again. This one, however, had laughed, LAUGHED, at her as she violated him over and over. He hadn't cared. He passed out repeatedly that night, but refused to die, refused to submit, and refused to beg for mercy.
He had just kept smiling that damned manic smile of his, growing new teeth back in every time she knocked or pried them out. It was like he was some sort of twisted, hideous cartoon, and she kept hitting him with a mallet but he kept growing a new head.
She thought she'd found the way to kill him now, though. She just had to try it out! If it worked, she'd use it on all the other regenerators she ran into, including that aggravating Vindicator, Valkyrie.
She cheered triumphantly as Psycho13 hit the cylinder and was dragged into the cleavage of the monstrous machine. His legs were ground into a fine red pulp almost instantly, but the cylinders paused as they reached his waist. His right arm was pinned between the spikes, and he pushed weakly and futilely against the cylinder he faced with his free hand.
Gurgling as his internal organs were squeezed while the machine pressed inexorably, he looked up to his brother, who stared down in horror.
"James!" he choked, "It... It hurts!"
The machinery suddenly revved harder and the cylinders started spinning again. Screaming, the scrapper was dragged under to the foulness below the machinery, pulped bits of his remains clinging to the wicked machinery that had done him in and staining a red line through the center of the two business parts of the Grinder.
---
James couldn't believe what he'd just seen. His brother, his older, bizarre, happy-go-lucky, demented, clownish brother, had just been turned into cube steak. Energy blasts from the Crab Spiders slammed into him, but he didn't register it. He turned in the air and rose slowly until his gaze was level with Silver Mantis.
"Aw..." she cooed condescendingly, "Did I hurt your widdle boyfwiend?"
The next thing she knew, a fist had connected with her jaw. Knocked backward into the metal door and jarred, she looked up to try to make sense of what was going on. James stood over her, his hands balled into fists and his eyes blazing rage.
"You just killed my brother!" he shouted, "[dog], I'm gonna drill you through the [fricking] wall!"
Heedless of the soldiers trying to stop him, he reached down and grabbed a hold of her by her shoulders. Twisting, he spun her body into the soldiers, knocking them aside. One fell over the edge but grasped it at the last moment before hurtling into the Grinder himself.
James wasn't concerned with that, however. Still twisting around, he slammed the metal woman's head into the wall. The bricks and mortar yielded and she tumbled through into another chamber.
As she stumbled to her feet, Silver Mantis considered briefly that she hadn't taken into account the reactions of the people her target knew. Sure he was annoying to her, but was he as annoying to others?
Grasped on the back of her neck, she exploded into spikes in an attempt to lash out at her assailant. James rolled his eyes, not in pain, but in annoyance. Roaring incoherently, he threw her back through the hole in the wall, careful to make sure her face smacked the bricks again.
She hit the opposite corner and started laughing. The brute reached her again and kicked her in the belly, bouncing her off the wall and into his arms. He then threw her like a football into the metal door and she crumpled at its foot.
"What's so [fricking] funny?" he growled as he stomped on her ankle with a sickening crunch.
"AUGH!" she yelped despite her affinity for pain, "Ugh... You don't [mess] around... And I'm laughing because... Because I killed your brother! He's dead and he's never coming back!"
James reached down and grabbed her. Lifting her overhead, he turned to the opening overlooking the Grinder. Mantis knew what was coming next. She wondered briefly if her Arachnos Emergency Porter would save her before the death machine did irreparable damage.
She never got to find out, however. James didn't notice the door opening as he hefted the woman up. He never noticed the massive bulk walking casually behind him. A heavy thunk sounded as Black Scorpion's cybernetic, clawed hand cracked the back of the brute's skull and dropped him like a sack of rocks.
"Ernie!" Silver Mantis cheered happily as she tried to stand, "Augh! My ankle!"
"What the Hell is going on here, Tammi?" the big cyborg asked, "Who is this idiot, and how did he get the drop on you like this?"
"Um..." she replied, but didn't get to finish before one of the Crab Spiders capturing the rest of the Brutal Warriors announced over the radio that they were successful, "Oh! Good work, Operative Fulkerson..."
"No problem, ma'am," the one who's head was smashed into the wall next to her grunted, "I'm glad to take the credit."
"Uh..." the radio sounded, "Ma'am, my name isn't Fulkerson, it's-..."
"Shut up!" Black Scorpion interrupted, "Round up these idiots and throw 'em in the cells... And make sure this one has his head examined by our medical personnel. I want to be sure he's in perfect condition when I personally show him what happens to anybody who lays a finger on my Mantis!"
"Yes sir!" the soldiers shouted in bright agreement.
James already knew he was alright, though. He was more concerned about his brother and how he'd failed him. Now he was gone, and he 'd never gotten his revenge against the men who'd made him the way he was. He'd never gotten his revenge on the men who'd taken years from his life.
"Don't worry," he whispered as the soldiers dragged him through the warrens, "I'll see to it for you..."
----------
Under the Grinder was a massive, empty chamber. Made of the same stone as the sewers that surrounded the machinery, it was about as filthy as one would expect as grit and slime clung to it. Blood from the slowly winding-down cylinders above dripped into a massive pool in the center of the chamber. Nine pints of blood covered a surprisingly large area.
In the center, a pulped mass of meat and bone trembled. For several hours, the room continued in this vein. When things changed, there was a slithering sound as the blood was slowly pulled toward the pulp, turning it into an amorphous mass. Above, the blood seemed to pour more quickly from the still cylinders. Slowly but surely, the mass coalesced, rose and formed into a sphere.
After a few minutes of sitting still like a stone, the blob drew within itself, leaving a crouched humanoid figure. Bald, naked, and confused, Levi Baker shivered as he collapsed to the floor. He didn't know what had just happened, he only knew that he'd woken from a nightmare. He'd tumbled to his death, just like he'd seen happen repeatedly in his sleep, but this time it was real.
This time, he'd been through all of it. He'd felt the steel grinding the flesh from his bones and his bones into splinters. He'd felt his body stretched out and ripped asunder. He'd felt his entire consciousness perforated and obliterated.
Everything had gone black.
He'd died.
"Has it been three days?" he gasped as he shivered on the floor, "Where am I?"
Nobody answered him. A rat squeaked nearby. Cockroaches skittered past, wondering where the food they'd detected had gone.
A hunger clutched at the young man's stomach. It was sharp and painful, and he had to satisfy it. Before he knew what he was doing, he had lunged across the distance between him and the nearest rat. Snapping its neck in one quick move, he turned to devouring the wretched animal.
As he did so, he could feel disease wafting from its blood and mingling with his. His antibodies reacted violently. This was their body, not the disease's. His skin felt hot as he fought off the infection as soon as it entered him. He ate five rats whole and countless cockroaches, before he could finally find the strength to search for a way out.
A maintenance hatch, probably for cleaning the goo if this chamber ever got repeated use, served as his salvation. He searched it and was relieved it had a handle on this side. Trying it, he was again rewarded with a satisfying click and the hatch fell away from him.
Cold, alone, and confused, Psycho13 made his first tremulous steps into the Arachnos Base that served as the main dock for St. Martial. He didn't know what he was looking for, but pants, food and weapons were priorities. He'd figure out the rest later.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
"What the [Hell] do we do now!?" Draven shouted after futilely hammering his fists against the energy field holding him in the cell.
"We wait for them to try to take us out of here," Matt groaned.
Draven Erickson, Solo Striker, Dirty Ice, Raging James and Mark Shadow were all imprisoned in separate cells of the fort's holding area. James was huddled into the corner of his cell, his tears long-since run dry. Now, he cradled his head in pain from the dehydration and strain. Mark was talking quietly to him through the neighboring cell.
"What do you think they're talking about?" Draven asked, "Mark never really knew Levi."
"Words of comfort are always welcome," Solo mumbled, "[Jebus]... I can't believe the guy's gone... Just... Ripped apart like that..."
"I always heard Silver Mantis liked a beating," Jones chuckled, "Bet she didn't like what James did to her, though. He didn't even give her much time to talk!"
"What do you think they'll do to us?"
"I don't know. Maybe they'll let us go."
"Let us go?" Draven looked incredulously to the brute, "Are you insane? We've done things to Arachnos! They know us! We've stolen a Flier, converted it to look like the Serenity ship, and used it to ferry heroes into the Isles, shoot down other Fliers and even stage an attack on Sharkhead Isle!"
"With all the [crap] that goes on in the Isles at any given time, I would have figured they'd have forgotten about all that by now," Matt shrugged, "But, oh well, I'm sure they recorded everything you just said. We're [boned] now."
"We're not [boned]," James called out from across the chamber, "I'm still ready to rip these [butt]holes apart..."
"Just rest up, man," Draven called back, "Just... We'll get them back, man. We'll get them back..."
----------
Deeper in the complex, a soldier was marching down the hall when a voice called out behind him. Turning, he saw one of the engineers beckoning to him.
"Guard," the engineer asked as he got close, "I think... I think I heard something in the mess hall..."
"Hm... I'd hate to think one of those Arachnoids broke out of its tank," the Wolf Spider growled as he drew his pistol, "Alright, let's go."
The two made their way to the mess hall and snuck in. A loud gurgling, smacking sound was heard as they neared the kitchen in the back. Clearing the doorway, the Wolf Spider pointed his pistol at the crouched form in front of it and shouted.
"Hey! Who the Hell are you?"
Reaching up, the figure grasped a gallon of milk and started draining the container into its mouth. It's said that a person can't drink an entire gallon of milk in under an hour, but somehow, this individual chugged away until the container was gone. With a triumphant gasp, he tossed the jug at the Wolf Spider and went back to eating a raw steak and a gob of hamburger.
"Alright, scumbag, I'm through playing nice!"
The Wolf Spider fired three shots, punching holes into the figure's back. The frantic devouring stopped and the figure stood. It was a thin, naked man. His body was lacerated across the legs, back, arms and even head. Turning slowly and deliberately, he grasped a butcher knife on the counter next to him and a meat cleaver.
"You," Psycho13 aimed the point of the blade at the startled Wolf Spider and his voice was croaking and gurgling with how cramped his esophagus was from the constant consumption of food products to replenish his body's nutrients, "Where can I get some of those snazzy pants?"
"Uh..." the Spider squeezed the trigger a few more times, punching even more holes into the scrapper's body. This time, the wounds closed shortly afterward, leaving the guard to guess that the ones in his back had done the same.
"Wrong answer!" the naked man's face suddenly became the mask of a maniac and he chopped a chunk out of the counter with the cleaver, "I asked you, [fricker]! Where! Can I find! Some pants!?"
He punctuated each phrase with another chop into the counter and a step toward the Wolf Spider. The Engineer was already running away, probably to get more troops.
"You don't scare me!" the Wolf Spider shouted as he fired more bullets into the young man, "Just because you're a Destined One!"
"Destined one!?" the scrapper laughed, "Buddy, I'm a bona fide [butt]kicker, not some crony for Arachnos' schemes!"
The Wolf Spider merely fired a few more times before the butcher knife stabbed into his wrist. Screaming, the soldier dropped the pistol and threw himself backwards, but the demented young man followed him, kicking him squarely in the chest and knocking him to the floor.
"Now..." he said in an even tone as his esophagus recovered, "I'll be needing the location of some pants..."
----------
"Ma'am?" Operative Fulkerson reported to her hospital bed as the doctors finished repairing her foot, "The clean-up crew reported that the Grinder is as clean as it can be."
"Good, good..." the cyborg villainess rasped as she hopped off the bed, "Now... Did they scoop up the remains like I asked? I've got some experiments I want to run..."
"Um... Actually, about that..."
"What?" Silver Mantis stamped on her freshly-repaired foot to see if it was up to snuff, "What is it, Operative?"
"The cleaning crew was wondering why the blood stain you were concerned with wasn't there. The Grinder has signs of use, but no blood, no parts... Nothing."
"What!?" she shrieked, casually stabbing into one of the nurses in her rage, "Why the Hell not?"
"We... Don't know, ma'am..."
"Wasn't as easy as you expected, was it?" the deep, tinny voice of Black Scorpion rumbled from the back of the operating room, "I told you. Even the piddly-[crap] ones are notoriously difficult to get rid of."
"I know, Scorpion!" she hissed, "This son of a-!"
"I have found some kind of temporary sanity, with all this..." a voice chortled over the intercom, "Ah-heh-heh-heh! I can't go and finish that lyric..."
"And now he's in one of the communications rooms," Scorpion grunted, "I trust you know how Lord Recluse enjoys hearing about these little spats and how they affect the day-to-day operations of Arachnos."
"You look so precious... You look so precious... You look so precious, now... You look so precious..." Psycho13's voice continued.
"I'll handle it!" Silver Mantis screamed, her body unconsciously sprouting spikes as she started marching to the door.
"You'd better," Black Scorpion growled at her back, "I don't want to find a new girlfriend."
----------
"Damn, these pants are snug," Levi chuckled as he cycled through the options the computer's operating system provided him, "I wonder if any of these idiots can even fit underwear in them..."
He located information on some submersibles trying to sneak into Paragon. Using the command codes that were conveniently left on a sticky-note next to the computer, he rerouted them to the Antarctic Circle. He also ordered a few cells in Brickstown to assault the Circle of Thorns in Oranbega, a cell in London to commence a raid on the NHS headquarters and a crew in Grandville to deliver a fresh mocha latte to Lord Recluse.
He would have done more, but the room suddenly went dark. The hatch to the hallway opened and the scrapper gathered the combat knives he'd taken from the Wolf Spider's footlocker along with the armor-padded pants before leaving.
It was a shame he had to jab the butcher's knife into the guy who'd led him to the barracks room and stake his arm to the bed, but he just couldn't let the man run off and tell somebody where he was. Chasing down the engineer had been trickier, and he had to take down a couple more Wolf Spiders, but with them all trapped inside that bathroom he would be able to move freely for a short while.
Calling Silver Mantis' operating room might have been a mistake on his part, but he'd been feeling positively bubbly at the time. She'd tried to kill him and he'd survived. He felt he was owed some gloating time.
Wondering briefly if the orders he'd sent had been intercepted before the fort's crew had shut the communications room down, he made his way into the darkened hall and started finding his way to his next objective.
----------
--Grandville--
"I don't understand," Lord Recluse growled as he stared at the steaming cup, "It took an entire squad of Bane Spiders to deliver one cup of coffee?"
"Those were the orders, sir," the Executioner commanding them explained, "I... I don't understand it myself..."
There were a few minutes of silence before Recluse finally growled "Get out."
Drumming his fingers on the armrest of his throne, the leader of Arachnos wondered who was messing with his troops and why they weren't doing something more worthwhile.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
Next chapter
I would copy and paste, but there's strong language I need to edit and frankly, I want to get to playing the game right now 
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"Lock down all the exits! Bring his friends to the central landing! We'll execute them, one-by-one, until he shows himself!"
Silver Mantis marched through the hallways, her metallic heels making loud clanging sounds as they met the steel grating. Sometimes, her heels would poke through the holes, but rather than stumble, she would just yank her leg forward harder, tearing the grating slightly.
"Yes ma'am," one of the soldiers nodded and turned down another corridor.
"Should we involve the Executioner?" another asked.
"Yes. Get Executioner Donaldson. He's... Amicable to my desires."
"Yes ma'am."
They made their way down the corridors toward the communications hub from which Psycho13's signal had been determined to be located. The engineers had shut the facility down, and many of the corridors around it. Mantis didn't expect the cape to be so foolish as to still be there when she and her entourage arrived.
She was wrong.
There was a rushing sound and two of the Wolf Spiders flanking her crumpled to the floor, screaming and clutching at their legs. Their hamstrings had been cut.
"Just port back to the medical bay," she hissed at the groaning men, "Seriously, why do I have to think of these things?"
"What about the rest of u-!" another Wolf Spider started before a blur rushed by and a blade stabbed into his throat.
Gurgling, the soldier crumpled to the floor and disappeared in a red haze as his med-porter beacon registered the critical injury. Silver Mantis arched her eyebrow at the other soldiers who followed suit with their squadmate shortly afterward.
"I'm surrounded by incompetents," the villainess growled, "Is it so hard to hire some proper psychopaths?"
"Yeah, it is," she heard from down the hall she'd just come from, "It's so hard to find decent lunatics to torture perfectly innocent people. It takes a certain mixture of sadism and training..."
Psycho13 twirled the knife in his hand and smirked at the woman.
"Problem is that most sadists think they're the alphas, so it's hard to teach 'em to be decent in a fight."
"I'm gonna flay the flesh from your bones," she growled back.
"I'll just grow it back," the scrapper started backing away into the darkness, "I'll always grow it back..."
Silver Mantis felt her temper rising. This cur was starting to get to her. She couldn't let that happen. Looking to the one soldier left from her entourage, she waved at him.
"See to it the preparations are complete and contact me. I'm hunting this pissant personally."
The soldier nodded and stepped further away as she passed. He didn't want to risk getting skewered at random.
-----------
"Here they are, sir," the Wolf Spider announced as they reached the holding cells, "They call themselves the Brutal Warriors Order, but they look like a gaggle of miscreants to me."
"They're all miscreants, soldier," Executioner Donaldson said in a low tone, "Anyone who winds up in these cells... They're unworthy. Hell, even many who don't. Frankly, I say we should start gunning down Destined Ones in the streets."
"We... Um... We do gun down Destined Ones in the streets, sir..." the Wolf Spider scratched at the back of his helmet, "Unfortunately... They're usually a lot tougher than-"
"Shut. Up."
"Yes, sir."
Executioner Donaldson turned to the nearest cell, the one containing Draven, and leaned in close.
"You register as a cape, but I've never heard of you."
"You hear of every cape?" the scrapper asked, "I'm sure there are a lot of people you've never heard of, much less never seen."
"Yes, but you and your friends staged an attack on the Isles. I had heard of your group, but as individuals you've never amounted to much. Frankly, I'm wondering why I've even been brought in to deal with you."
"I thought you guys just, you know, executed," Matt Jones barked.
"Normally, yes. I, however, interrogate. I ask questions, and if I don't get answers, I ask harder."
He tapped his wickedly bladed mace against the energy field to demonstrate. A light electric spark lanced through the field and Draven backed away.
"We don't know much about you idiots, aside from the fact that you foolishly believe you can measure up to even the greatest that Arachnos has to offer. I'm toying with how I'm going to treat these sessions. Silver Mantis wants me to kill you outright, but I'm thinking I'll be more creative. I think I can turn you all into effective weapons for Arachnos. No more of the Destined One crap, we'll use you as we would a sword, as we should have done with each super-powered sack we released from the Zig."
"Shut the [Hell] up!" James shouted from across the prison chamber, "You think you can turn us? You let me out of this cell, and I'll drill you through the ******* wall!"
"Still some fight in you," Donaldson allowed himself a chuckle, "But we'll see how long that lasts as we force you to watch your friend bleed."
Mark Shadow gulped as the soldiers started walking toward his cell. He turned to James and the brute started hammering his fists against the energy field. He punched and kicked the walls of his cell, too, but they only dented.
"Matt! Jared! Somebody help!" Mark shouted as the energy field winked out and the soldiers started reaching in to drag him out, "Oh God, don't let them do this to me!"
"Hold him in the middle of the symbol," Donaldson aimed his mace at the Arachnos sigil in the center of the chamber, "This will take some skill..."
"Somebody do something!" Mark shouted as the troops kicked him in the back of his knees and held him down by his shoulders.
"Are you terribly attached to your ears?" the Executioner asked.
Then everything went dark.
----------
Silver Mantis found Psycho13 humming a tune to himself in one of the control centers. Despite the fact he was in a powered chamber, he didn't seem to be doing more than just playing with his combat knife. As the clinking sound of her metal-clad feet drew closer, he started singing.
"...My mother said... That all were angels... But I swear, I saw the evil... The evil that bleeds from the sky... From the sky!"
"You're a terrible vocalist," Mantis' silk voice interrupted him as he dragged out the last word.
"I don't know about that," he replied casually, "That Freak helping you thought I sounded cool."
Silver Mantis snorted.
"I don't get it," the scrapper hopped down from the control panel he'd been sitting on, "Why me? Why'd you set this all up for me?"
"Simply put, I knew you. That night I spent with you... It left an impression on me. You acted like it didn't affect you... But I know better. I know I left an impression."
"Yeah, you left an impression..."
Psycho13's body blurred as he closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, the knife he'd kept pressed against the steel on the bridge of her nose.
"You [violated] me..." he growled, "I should cut out your [damn] eyes."
"You got better," she sneered, "Besides, you looked like you were enjoying yourself."
Levi blinked at her. He started dragging the blade across the bridge of her nose to bring the point into her left eye. He stopped when she exploded in spikes, puncturing his torso and arm.
"You think you can stand against me, you sniveling little worm!?" she shrieked, "I practically invented the idea behind torturing meta humans! I know how to make each and every little [mouse] like you scream for mercy!"
"I..." the scrapper gasped, "Never begged... I... I'm still not broken..."
He reached over with his free hand and took the knife. Mantis moved her hand up to shield her face, but he raked the blade against her torso. His arm moving in a blur, sparks flew and he was able to push away from the villainess in her confusion. Reaching behind himself, he drew another knife that he'd taken from one of the soldiers he'd hamstrung.
"Cut!" he growled as he started stepping closer, "I'm never gonna get away! If I never make this change! Cut the way, and [to Hell with] all the human waste!"
"More songs..." Mantis started circling as well, "Do you expect to intimidate me?"
He stepped close and jabbed at her.
"Cut! They're never gonna take away!"
He raked his blades against her extended arms, drawing sparks and a little blood.
"The vision that I Portray!"
She stabbed him in the shoulder and slashed him across the face.
"No time! No waste!"
He rammed his shoulder into her chest and backed away.
"I cut all that's in my way!"
He swung both blades hard to the sides as she reached for him, striking her hands and causing her to fall back. He assumed a defensive stance and started waving the knives at her as he circled around again.
"...Close my eyes and take a look at my life... Think of all the ways that I've been denied... Is it pride or is it timing? It's taking time, but the road I'm finding... Healing back now from the wounds that I've made... Stabbed myself a thousand times this way... To keep my pace up with the hill I'm climbing... I'll cut the ties... Of those! That! Bind!"
He lunged at her again, driving the blades into her abdomen. Silver Mantis screeched and lacerated him with her metal spines, rending his flesh into bloody ribbons. His body started pulling back together almost immediately, and he started hacking away at her. They circled in this butchering embrace, each one tearing into the other, until finally, Silver Mantis broke the hold and spun Psycho13 around with a backhand, causing him to drop his weapons.
As he recovered his knives, she stabbed him through the back, her spikes extending through his chest. She'd punctured his right lung and impaled his spleen. Leaning in close, she whispered in his ear.
"Remember this pose, baby?"
He dropped one of the knives as another spike blasted through his hip.
"You know what happens next, right?"
"Oh God," the young man croaked as she twisted the spike in his lung.
"Normally, Black Scorpion gets so jealous when I tell him of the fun I have with my conquests... But with you, he just laughed..."
Psycho13 weakly stabbed behind himself with his remaining knife, trying frantically to get the crazy woman off his back.
"I told him how I violated your wounds... Your body... And how you swore vengeance..."
"Okay..." the young man dropped the knife, "I'm done..."
"Aw, don't give up now! Not when things are getting fun!"
"Who said anything about giving up?" the scrapper growled as he grabbed the spike poking out of his chest and one of the ones poking out of his belly, "I just need a new tactic..."
He backed into her and bent over, pulling Silver Mantis onto his back. In her confused state, she was unprepared for when he raced down the hall at top speed, blurring both of them. If it kept on for much longer, she would have riddled him with spikes and ended the trip in a spectacular crash, but he was already planning on a collision from the beginning.
Just as Mantis prepared to skewer him, they hit a hard surface, a metallic column that was similar to all the others that riddled Arachnos facilities. They were full of plumbing and cables, all of the utilities that each facility needed. The only warning she had as to what was going to happen next was the spark as her spikes came in contact with the main lines of power.
As red lightning coursed through her, Silver Mantis blacked out. Most of the fort's power grid had been shot through the two of them in an instant, and she disappeared in the red haze that indicated her emergency teleporter had sent her to her secure medical facility.
The lights flickered and went dark and Psycho13's charred body slumped to the floor. For a few minutes, there was silence. Then, a choking gasp sounded as the scrapper started dragging himself away.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
Quote:
*blink* Strong language? Where? Aside from all the torture implications there's nothing in there I'd call strong language.
|
Originally Posted by Mr_Grey
Next chapter
I would copy and paste, but there's strong language I need to edit and frankly, I want to get to playing the game right now |
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
"Switch to-" was all Executioner Donaldson was able to get out before a red glow caused his troops to gasp sharply.
Turning, he saw Raging James standing in the doorway of his cell, red electricity cascading off his body in waves. He had his hands balled into fists at his sides as he glared at the armored giant regarding him with contempt.
"Plea-" Donaldson started again, but the brute hurtled through the air and collided with his torso.
Flying across the room, they collided with the far wall. Donaldson brought the butt of his mace down on James' back and delivered a knee to his face. The young man coughed and felt blood trickling out of his nose, but he shoulder-rammed the bigger man into the wall again with the rewarding sound of armor cracking.
A yellow glow caught Donaldson's attention and he turned in time to see a stone-encrusted fist slam into his faceplate. Knocked from James' grasp, he stumbled into a cell's doorway and picked himself back up by the frame. As Dirty Ice got close, he swung the mace about and caught the other brute by the torso, knocking him into the center of the chamber. Jones grasped his chest as some blood trickled between his fingers.
Donaldson didn't have time to gloat, however. The staccato of gunfire alerted him and he saw both of his troops drop to the floor and disappear in red energy. Lying on the floor, smoking Arachnos pistol in hand, Mark Shadow rolled and fired more rounds at the Executioner. The big man fired a volley of energy from his mace's head, but the shot went wide as Raging James Baker pushed the weapon aside and delivered a savage left cross to Donaldson's face, smashing the helmet's mask to bits.
Groaning and coughing, Donaldson stumbled back, waving the mace weakly to and fro to keep his assailants at bay. Suddenly, he stopped and stood up straight. With a choking gasp, he turned to see what had just stabbed him and Daren leaned over so he could see the insolent malcontent who'd just done him in.
"Just because we aren't famous," the shadow-armed assassin whispered, "Doesn't mean we don't know how to make you hurt."
He twisted his arm inside the back of the Executioner and Donaldson cried out before his body disappeared in a haze of energy. James approached his friend and watched as Solo Striker examined his malleable arm return to a more human form.
"This is starting to scare me, man," he intoned as he made sure he still had five fingers, "My arms are all shadow stuff..."
"Matt?" they heard Mark next to the fiery brute, "You okay?"
"Yeah!" the portly blonde replied as he picked himself up, "Just... Those blades burn, man!"
"Let's get out of here," Draven called out from down the hall, "Let's get Mark's stuff and leave!"
"No..." James shook his head and pointed down the hall, "Mark can get his stuff, but I want to find out why this place went dark. I've got... I've got a funny feeling..."
----------
Levi Baker dragged himself through the grated hallways, inch by inch. He could hear booted feet shuffling past him, but they were sticking to the walls. If they were soldiers and could see him, they weren't saying anything, nor were they stopping him.
His right eye was gone. He was certain of that. What little lighting there was in the facility helped him to notice that when he reached his right arm out to grasp a little further, he couldn't see it if he moved it a little to the right. After checking, he found the socket, like much of his body, was full of "goop."
His body was regenerating. It was slow, however. It wasn't like the grinder, which had just shredded his body to pieces, but had done nothing to the chemical composition of the material. After using Silver Mantis as a lightning rod, however, and still attached to that lightning rod while it did its work, he found out that his body couldn't just get cooked inside out and pull back together like he had before.
Black ooze (not that he could tell the color of the stuff) drained out of his burst-open belly as he pulled himself down the halls. His legs had been blown off by the explosion, along with most of his left arm. His right arm grew better, pull-by-pull, as he made it down the hallway until he could eventually pull himself forward a foot or almost a yard at a time.
Eventually, he found himself in a hallway illuminated by a strange pinkish glow. Looking up, he saw a chamber had opened up when the fort went to emergency power. It was full of machinery, jars and tubes that held organs and body parts. It was an Arachnos cloning and genetic testing lab. Something told him he needed to go in there.
Crawling inside, he almost shouted when he saw the Arachnoid looming over him. However, it was inside a tank and not moving. It didn't even twitch.
"Must be dead," Psycho13's gurgling, rasping voice surprised him, "Guh... I... I need... Lungs..."
He looked around the chamber as best he could, using his arm to roll himself over or hold himself up, and eventually found a jar with a pair of lungs floating inside. Whooping froggily at his fortune, he haphazardly swung his arm up to knock the jar off its stand. It took four tries to finally make the jar fall.
Picking through the broken glass and fluid, he grasped the lungs and started stuffing them into his belly. His body did the rest as it disintigrated and absorbed the cloned lung, utilizing the elements that made up its basic composition to repair and rebuild the ones that had been badly scorched with electrical burns. His body also absorbed some of the fluid, which must have had some regenerative properties of its own because his body started repairing itself faster.
New flesh replaced charred and rotting flesh and Psycho13 eventually was able to drag himself to other organs. Consuming them as he did the lungs, he was able to rejuvenate his major organs and nominally repair his crippled limbs. He still had to smash open some tanks containing Arachnoid limbs to acquire more ready materials for his own bones, but eventually, he was whole again. For a brief moment, he felt his jaw was a little out of line. He didn't know it, but the bones had formed into Arachnoid mandibles temporarily, but his body's nature dragged the form back to the original template.
Picking himself off the floor, Psycho13 smiled. It shouldn't have worked like that, he knew, but somehow his body was able to use the materials around it to repair itself. Thinking on it a little harder, he realized it was a somewhat worrying thought, as this likely meant that he probably couldn't die.
"Time will tell, I guess," he whispered before hearing somebody at the door.
"Oh my God," Mark's familiar voice whispered, "James! James, you're not going to believe this!"
----------
After pulling themselves out of the sewer under the fortress, they made their way down the beach. Psycho13 rolled in the water a bit to wash himself off, and when he emerged from the ocean, he looked to be a new man. His brother hugged him then, now that the grime and muck was gone.
"Don't ever scare me like that again!" James shouted as he crushed his older brother in a bear hug, "We already lost one..."
"Ug... You're about to do me in, yourself, bro," Levi grunted, "Ease up, brother... Ease up..."
"How'd you survive?" Draven asked, "I mean, my sword could probably pick me back up if I ever blacked out, but I don't think it could rebuild me after what happened to you..."
"I lost my lunch watching that," Daren concurred, "You sure you're okay?"
They made their way to the main harbor. They would take the ferry to the Nerva Archipelago and meet with Brother Ringo. After that, they would make their way back to paragon to report to Jonas Silver how the lead was a bust.
"Hey, you guys saw the organs," the scrapper chuckled, "I ate that [stuff] raw, and it built me back up. Also... I can drink a gallon of milk in about ten minutes."
"No way," Matt laughed, "That's not possible!"
"For most people, it's not," a coarse voice shouted behind them, "For your friend there, however, I've got footage that proves he can do it."
Turning, the boys were treated to a short, stocky, bald man. Clad in a military utility vest, some camouflage pants and a pair of combat boots, he had few distinguishing characteristics, save the wicked scars on his head and the red-glowing left eye. It took them a while to realize who it was.
"Holy crap!" Mark gripped his assault rifle and waved it in the direction of the man, "It's Black Scorpion!"
The man smiled and started marching up the hill after them. He'd been tracking them since they delivered the beatdown to Executioner Donaldson and he figured now was the best time to make his presence known. He waved to Mark to put his rifle down and pulled the vest open to show that the one weapon he brought, a Desert Eagle, was buttoned down in its holster on his shoulder harness.
"I just want to talk," he grunted, then pointed at Psycho13, "To you. Privately."
"Alright," the young man narrowed his eyes and approached cautiously.
They walked a few yards away from the group and Ernesto Rodriguez pulled the young man into a huddle. Drawing his communicator, he activated the video function and showed Levi the footage of Silver Mantis abusing him with the sound off so the others couldn't hear.
"I don't need to see this..." the thin man growled, "I already went through it once. She already told me how it made you laugh."
"I want you to see why I laughed, boy," Ernesto grunted as he started fast-forwarding, then rewinding, then playing until he paused it on one scene, "Here it is... That look on your face while she's riding ya. What does it tell you?"
Levi glared into Ernest's human eye. The former mercenary looked impassively back.
"It tells me I will have absolution," Baker finally replied, "It tells me I will have my revenge."
"Mantis thought it was funny. So did I, but not for the same reason."
Ernest shut the communicator down and placed it in his pocket. He then clapped the young man on the shoulder before he started walking away. As the young man stared at him, stunned, Black Scorpion, looking for all the world like an average man, turned and delivered his monologue.
"I'd seen her cut down a lot of capes, boy, but not fighters. Everybody begged, everybody pleaded for mercy, everybody wept and cried like the little kids getting spanked that they were. You, though? You were one of the few who got angry and didn't break. I've probably seen about, oh, five or six different capes who were able take her on using just their God-given talents. You were able to last a night with her, and it didn't break ya. What made me laugh was how she disregarded you just like all the ones who gave up. They swore someone else would see to their revenge. You swore you would take your pound of flesh..."
"And I took my pound of flesh," Levi growled, "I guess it doesn't pay to turn yourself into a walking electric chair, but don't think for a second I'm done with her yet."
"Yes you are," Scorpion pointed at him and pressed his lips into a thin line as he considered what he was about to say, "I wouldn't tell anybody this, but you almost killed her today. She's in critical condition in the fort's medical facility, thank God you didn't wipe out the emergency power when you short-circuited the mainlines. You didn't know that, did you? You hit the primary power lines for the base, that's why the whole place went dark. Now, she's struggling for life, and if I didn't think she had the fight in her to pull herself back from the brink of death, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'd be mashing you and your friends into a fine red paste before sprinkling it across the Isles to make sure none of you came back."
Levi folded his arms over his chest.
"Good thing for me you've got confidence, then."
"Damn straight. Now... I'm saying you're done here. I'm saying I don't want you coming after my Mantis, and I'm saying I won't let her come after you. I told her not to underestimate you just because nobody knows you. I told her you little guys are some of the most dangerous on the planet because nobody's watching you. Now, I hope she's learned her lesson, and I hope you can live with the fact that you've done enough damage to compensate for what she did to you."
"What she took from me can't be returned," Baker hissed, "There's nothing rightwise about this."
"I understand," Black Scorpion sighed, "If you were one of the capes and spandex idiots, I'd just laugh at you. But I know your type. You're the jeans and combat boots type. You're the type that's liable to sneak up on somebody in the middle of the night, slit their throat and watch them struggle to breathe. I can't trust your word, so listen to this: If I ever catch you coming after my Mantis like you did today, I will kill you. I will find a way. If I have to drop you in a vat of molten steel and hold you under, I will. Don't test me."
With that, he started making his way back down the hill. Psycho13 wasn't going to let things end like that, however, and he threw a knife into Ernesto's back. The stocky man shouted in surprise more than pain and the scrapper started yelling.
"I'll show you when I'm done you roided-up Freakshow reject! You'll now my work because your little [girlfriend] will be strung up, in pieces, all over the mainside dock of Grandville! I'll use her internal parts to string up the customs lanes like Christmas lights! I'll-!"
"This is just what I needed," Enresto growled through gritted teeth as he turned around, drawing his Desert Eagle, and leveled it on the shouting man, "Some exercise..."
Several loud booms accompanied each squeeze of the trigger and Psycho13 was torn to pieces as the bullets slammed into him. His friends shouted in surprise, but there was nothing that could be done. He had started this fight, it was up to him to finish it. Fortunately, after five rounds, Rodriguez seemed to be satisfied. He marched back up the hill to look over Psycho13's broken body.
"Depleted Uranium rounds. Just as big as normal bullets, but oh, so much heavier. I may not be in my suit, but I'm not stupid enough to wander around in an unarmored jacket and without weapons that can take down a bull elephant. Also, next time you throw a knife at somebody's back, try not hitting the shoulder blade. The thing is natural armor, nothing thrown is gonna get through it."
"May-be..." Psycho13 gurgled through his broken mouth, "I wush... Jusht shtrying to getsh your... Attshen-shun..."
"And you did," Ernesto smiled down at him, "Tell me you're not as dense as you were shouting, though. You understand my position? You were just venting, right?"
"I've had... My revengssh... I'm done with this business," Psycho13 agreed as his body started pulling back together, "You smashed my ribs..."
"Here's your knife back," the old man handed the weapon over after yanking it from his jacket's back plate, "You idiots get out of here. I can't be seen being so nice."
----------
Several hours later, Ernesto made his way to the fort's medical bay. He had a long report to write for Lord Recluse and a strange story to tell. With any luck, Mantis would just find herself on "mayhem duty" for the next couple of months. If not, well, the scientists and mystics could always use more Red Coral ripped from the hearts of the slag golems.
For now, however, he wanted to make sure his girl was doing alright. The doctor, a cybernetic specialist named Hogan, admitted Rodriguez without fuss.
"You seem to be doing well," he said as Silver Mantis' eyes looked weakly to him, "Doctors got you stable, they pulled out the damaged implants that were burning holes in your skin..."
"Ernest..." she wheezed.
"Don't talk, babe. Just rest and relax. First off, nobody knows about this. I got Doc Hogan over here as soon as possible and we're gonna have everything right as rain, right Doc?"
"Yeah," the doctor replied as he plugged orders for more parts into the computer, "Most of her framework is undamaged. I just need new processing components, a few actuators, and some new insulation. That energy spike almost hit her core, and if that had happened..."
"But she'll be fine, right?"
"Indeed. In fact, I bet we can get her to better than one hundred percent."
"Just concentrate on fixing her for now, Doc," Black Scorpion turned back to Silver Mantis and stroked her cheek.
"You're... Not in... Your suit..."
"I don't always need it, babe. I have to go to the bathroom sometime, right? Everything will be fine. Just go to sleep and let your body heal. I'll come back to see how you feel tomorrow."
"Okay..." she mumbled before closing her eyes and drifting off.
Black Scorpion gazed at her for a few minutes until he was certain she was asleep. A light snore assured him and he turned to Hogan.
"You're not lying to me, are you?"
"No," Doctor Hogan replied, "Silver Mantis will be back to working order within only a few days. I placed a Red priority on the parts, they should be here in only a few hours."
"Good. I have reports to fill out and engineers to yell at because they haven't got the power running in this place yet."
The short man stalked out of the room, but stopped at the doorway. He turned around and fixed a finger on the doctor.
"And Hogan. If anybody finds out about what you saw here, I'll make sure you die in slow, interesting ways. And when that happens, I'll ask Ghost Widow to bring you back so I can find other slow and interesting ways to kill you. You understand?"
"Just like last time, sir," the doctor replied impassively, "Standard disclaimer."
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
Okay... I feel I can finally end this (and probably should).
There is an epilogue to this storyline, but it's got extremely vulgar language, so I felt it would be best left elsewhere.
As a summary, the group gets to fighting amongst themselves and Kipland Durj winds up yelling at all of them. In the course of his rant, he confesses that he should have been guiding them all this time, and that he's not going to let them wander back out into the world unprepared again. With that said, he informs them that the "Order" is disbanded.
With that, the Brutal Warriors Order is done, but that doesn't mean the Brutal Warriors themselves are done. I'll still be continuing their adventures... Somehow... Some way...
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
The metahumans fought back desperately, but the NHS soldiers continued to press their advantage. With each wave, the hole in the far wall opened a little more and even more supremely powerful minions would break through at a time.
"They must really want us dead!" James shouted as he picked up the chair and hurled it at the invaders.
"One of us," Chuck growled as he put the helmet of Justin Steel's power armor on, "We'll make it a fight they won't soon forget, though!"
"Why are you in my suit?" Justin asked as he loaded new magazines and cartridges into his rifle, "I've still got the ammunition for the rifle."
"Because you forgot your activation word," the former chairman's chuckle sounded tinny as it rasped out of the emitters, "I have a master phrase, however... Reynolds Delta Factor Five!"
The armor's eyes suddenly flashed gold before blinking out again. There was an electric buzz as the armor's servo motors and actuators fired up and ramped the suit's strength capabilities up to superhuman levels. An energy bolt crashed into the armor, but dissipated harmlessly.
"Ha! Too bad you can't use the same phrase, Justin. It's keyed to my voice."
"I do well enough with my chemicals and poisons," the mastermind replied as Mr. Remington tossed him another bag from the storage room, "And now my combat repertoire is replenished..."
Reynolds chuckled again as an android leaped up onto the ring and bounded for the rogues, its armor crackling dangerously as it emitted an electric field. Before it could crash into the BWO's defensive line and possibly kill some of Steel's mercenaries, though, the armored up Reynolds dove at it and connected his fist with the machine's jawline, popping its head clean off. The electric field faded immediately, and Reynolds stood on the ring, firing concussive energy blasts into the onslaught.
"This is going nowhere," Bioserj finally gasped as he broke some blue crystals in his hand to replenish his rapidly depleting energy, "Charles! Do you still have what they were tracking?"
"No!" the armored man replied as he and Rage tossed invaders aside left and right, "I flushed the damn tracker down the toilet when I pulled the tooth!"
"Good," the corrupter sighed as he slapped Justin Steel's chest, just over the man's heart.
"What are you-?" the mastermind asked as his Arachnos MedCom activated and he and his mercenaries disappeared.
"What the...?" Mark shouted as Serj jumped past him and activated James and Chuck's transponders as well, "Serj, what are you doing!?"
"Saving your lives," the Russian replied as he body tackled Mark and activated his transponder last, "Good luck, my friend..."
Mark disappeared, wondering at what his friend would do. Hopefully, Bioserj would just port out to the Arachnos facility, but the situation looked grim.
--------
Matt Jones was struggling with the black-dressed girl trying to drag him to the Port Oakes portal. He vaguely remembered her as being James' girl, but he couldn't, for the life of him, understand why she was breathlessly dragging him to the Staging Area.
"Ice!" Darla shouted as they reached the portal, "I panicked and I sealed them inside!"
"What are you talking about?" the brute asked, "I don't-"
His sentence went unfinished as she was snatched up into the energy field and he was dragged in with her. When they tumbled into the entrance room, Ice saw that the lights were out and the room was lit only by his fire armor and the torches standing next to the doorway that would normally have led to the "Ring Room" if it weren't blocked by a wall of ice.
"What have you done!?" he shouted at the young woman.
"They were shooting at me... I panicked... I've never used so much energy before! I don't even know what I was trying to do, but it sealed up the doorway!"
"Well, that's why I'm doing this," Dirty Ice drew his sledgehammer and it started to get coated in rocks and dirt, "Step back, Darla..."
There was a green glow on the other side of the ice while the Brute smashed away at it. There were some white flashes that followed the green glow, but Matt didn't pay attention as his hammer worked its merry work. At first, the frozen water refused to give, but after another, brighter green glow, cracks spiderwebbed throughout the construct. Darla threw her fire blasts at the wall and the brute's fire armor further melted the ice and another green blast turned the wall into slush.
Dirty smashed through and roared loudly at the agents, androids and ninjas that were working their way in. The ninjas had held back during the initial assault, but as the rogues suddenly disappeared, they filtered in quietly to help finish off Bioserj.
The corrupter was lying face down at the foot of the steps. Darla gasped and Matt turned back to push her into the portal. He then grabbed the wall and his hands sunk into the brick wall. The agents were recharging their weapons and the Soultakers were getting into poses to hurl all sorts of darkness at him. However, they weren't expecting the brute to throw a whole wall at them. Matt wrenched his arms at the invaders and the bricks, mortar, and even a few broken pipes burst toward the NHS operatives.
While they were able to shrug most of the hail of debris off, the invaders weren't prepared for the rest. The structure of the base was now so sorely depleted, it was collapsing. Matt reached down, rolled Bioserj over and pressed his beacon, sending him to wherever, as the corrupter said he never went to the Arachnos reclaimators anymore.
Then, as the ceiling started to fall and the blue portal started to fade, he jumped to the exit and hoped he made it out okay.
-----------
Darla was looking around worriedly as the portal refused to admit her to the BWO Staging Area. She hoped the brute was able to make it out, but things looked even worse as she left the second time than they did the first.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a thunderclap and Dirty Ice fell from the sky. Whatever had happened, he hadn't quite made it back to the blue portal, but he also hadn't wound up trapped in some forsaken pocket dimension.
"Augh!" he hit the pavement and groaned for a few seconds before saying, "Almost didn't make it..."
"What happened?"
"I buried the base," he grunted, "Then, on my way back, the portal back there must have shut down and the connection to here must have cut off instantly... I was floating there for the past two minutes, watching you click that comm of yours, trying to get back... Then -BOOM!- here I am."
"We should find the others," the dominator mumbled, "Will you please help me? The Arachnos bases scare me."
"I may be a jerk," Matt chuckled, "but I'm not a [much worse word for a jerk]. I'll come with you."
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"What the Hell happened here?" a Wolf Spider asked as he and his patrol came across a sink hole near the bridge to Aeon City in New Haven.
"It looks like the sewer collapsed," the Huntsman replied, "We better see if we can get some engineers out here to fix it."
"There's somebody down there!" another shouted.
A New Horizon Syndicate Agent, his suit in tatters, his left arm broken and the skin on half of his face torn away to reveal the metal and plastic skull underneath tried to pull himself out of the rubble. When the cyborg saw the Arachnos patrol, he drew his energy pistol, which was somehow still active, and started firing. The agent's targeting was way off, however, and the Wolf Spiders were able to avoid getting shot easily.
"Kill it!" the Huntsman shouted and his troops acted immediately.
Pistol fire and assault rifle round slammed into the pinned interloper. Bullets ricocheted off hidden armor and the body held up oddly well under the withering assault, but it couldn't last forever. The NHS Agent exploded suddenly, throwing fire and shrapnel everywhere and the soldiers hugged the dirt as they looked to their commander, who still stood defiantly.
"What the Hell was that, boss?"
"I don't know," the Huntsman replied as he holstered his assault rifle, "At first I thought it was a Crey Infiltrator or something, but now... They don't explode like that."
"What do we do?"
"Same as we always do when we run across a meta human event. File a report..."
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.