It stopped and stood silently. Its empty helmet seemed to gaze at them in anticipation of something. Ashen Roast nudged Spec Ops Sable.
Shoot it and see what happens. He said.
Im thinking richocet. She returned evenly.
The gargantuan knight slowly scanned his vision over them individually. They squirmed under his examination, wishing it would do something, anything to indicate its intentions. Finally, it did.
The Tigers are playing tonight. It intoned in a reverberating barritone.
Leaping Lopez let out a sigh of relief. They would not have to fight this thing. It had just given them the first code phrase, letting them know that this was their contact on Sharkhead Isle. All she needed to do was give the proper response. If only she could remember what it was
I never miss a game. Sable returned, saving the young Puerto Rican the trouble.
The knight seemed satisfied with the response and sheathed his sword across his back.
I am sorry if I frightened you, he said, The door was not supposed to be chained. I had no other way of entering.
Ash sidled up next to his partner Blizzard Front and said, Thats our contact? They didnt say anything about him being an eight foot tall knight, ghost thing.
Blizzard shrugged, They also said we couldnt miss him.
Allow me to introduce myself, the knight continued, I am the Masonic Templar. I have been here on Sharkhead Isle for two months setting up this strike and observing our targets covertly.
Covertly? questioned Ash, Longbow picked you for covert activity?
As the living embodiment of the spirit of the Knights Templar, I have many skills. Plus, like your own Paragon City, this island is full of costumed freaks and monsters. I fit right in.
What have you seen so far? asked Sable, all business.
I have much to divulge, however this is not the place. Come, I have prepared our headquarters.
With that statement, the hulking crusader turned and marched towards the exit. After a curious moment, the others followed.
--------------------------------
The trip was brief and illustrated Masonic Templars point. No one seemed to notice them at all as the strolled through the smoky afternoon sun. The citizens of Sharkhead Isle plowed slowly through their dreary routines, careful or uncaring to not look upon or react to anything their city had to offer. The general malaise of the citizens, seemingly infected by the hazy and polluted sky, practically broke the heart of Leaping Lopez. She was used to being a beacon of hope and aspiration with her brightly colored costume. The people here knew nothing of hope, and the presence of heroes did not give cause to dream.
The Masonic Templar led them silently to their makeshift headquarters. It was on the top floor of the Paradise Inn near the center of the island. Actually it was the entire top floor. He had rented all the rooms of the third story of the small hotel, giving them freedom and privacy. They each had their own room and the Templar had set the honeymoon suite as their hub. While essentially a dive, it seemed the Templar had worked hard to get their home away from home both functional and clean.
Not bad, Ashen Roat said, completing his self lead tour and joining the others in the hub, Whos footin the bill? Longbow?
No, Templar responded, Longbow did not see fit to budget us for a headquarters. I paid for this myself.
You have money?
I have existed in this form for over two hundred years
Ive made wise investments.
Can we get on with this, please? requested Spec Ops Sable.
She sat on the circular, oversized bed flanked by Lopez and Blizzard Front. They were all getting antsy and it was hard to disguise their boredom.
Of course, Templar replied, Let us review our targets before setting forth into the night.
This statement was met with a collective sigh.
The large knight continued, I know. Youve been briefed by Longbow. You know why you are here. But we will be up against some of the deadliest villains the Rogue Isles has to offer. We must proceed with knowledge and caution.
The room stayed politely silent.
First, our primary target, the young dominator known as Corsage
Give it back, ********! Corsage shouted as she chased Toy Boy through the corridor that connected their rooms.
Just a minute! Her goofy teammate replied as he ran.
He had taken her new red brooch that tied her cape to her new costume. It was an outfit that Arctic Amazon had helped her design specifically to catch the eye of the thus far romantically ambivilant Toy Boy. She was going to unveil her new look today in the command center before they left for the surface. But now the object of her affection had ruined the moment by snatching her brooch before she was fully dressed. What he wanted with it she had no idea, but he was not going to get away.
Corsage grew a small thorn on her wrist and skillfully flung it with a snapping motion towards him. The small projectile stung him on the calf and caused him to stumble. Hopping on one leg, he turned around to surrender. Still getting used to her new, taller heels, Corsage could not stop in time. She slammed into Toy Boy and they both fell to the ground. Lying on top of him she groped for her property.
Ow! Toy Boy whined as he held the brooch over his head out of her reach, I cant feel my leg, you b-
Dont you dare call me that! Corsage wailed and punched him in the kidney. She reached up for his closed fist, Give it! What are doing taking my stuff anyways?
Whats the big deal? Its just a button. Would you rather I was taking your underwear?
Yes! she returned as she worked herself into a sitting posture on his stomach, wrestling with his hand, At least that would make some kind of sense!
The hatch next to them opened suddenly. Dripping wet and covered only in a tiny pink robe was their resident corruptor. He looked irate.
Who dares to disturb the cleansing rituals of Doctor Hate? he demanded.
Toy Boy and Corsage stopped their struggle and burst into laughter. Doctor Hate sneered in disgust.
Bah! Your youthful joy and adolscent rutting is making me ill. I will retire to my chambers to meditate before our journey.
He marched away towards his room leaving the two teenaged villains on the floor.
Rutting? Toy Boy pondered.
Hey! That was my robe. Corsage realized.
A moment of silence passed between them. Corsage looked down at her friend and remembered just how attractive were his eyes. His lovely green eyes.
Are we sharing a moment? the mastermind finally asked.
Hm?
Can you get offa me, please?
Can you give me my brooch back?
Sure. Im done with it anyway.
He handed the red button back to her. After a moment of inspection she stood up, releasing her prey. Toy Boy struggled to his feet and pulled the thorn from his leg.
I put a tiny camera in it, he elaborated, Since you and Hate will be separate from Diver for phase one, I needed to be able to keep tabs on you from here.
You could have just asked for it, yknow.
Toy Boy shrugged and started limping away. Corsage sighed. He was so oblivious. She trotted after him and caught up.
Hey, she said.
Um, hey yourself, he replied cautiously, Look. I dont have any more of your stuff so-
Oh, I know. Look, um, she struggled, How come you never, um, like asked me out for coffee or something?
He raised an eyebrow, You aking me out for coffee?
No! I mean, maybe. Ugh. I mean, how come YOU never asked ME out for coffee?
You dont like coffee.
Corsage threw her hands up, Or something! It doesnt have to be coffee.
Toy Boy stopped walking and turned to face her. He gave her his best approximation of a serious look.
Well. I really dont know what you like.
Corsage looked down and shifted her feet uncomfortably. She felt herself blush as she replied,
I like you.
Cool! he declared boisterously, We dont have to go out to enjoy me. Im here all the time!
He patted her on the shoulder and spun around. His leg had returned to full function and he skipped merrily away leaving her standing alone in the hallway.
The Pit. That was the place that Masonic Templar had most often spied there targets. His intelligence suggested that they were working for Cage Consortium to keep their disgruntled laborers in line. It loomed like a swollen cavity on the southeastern shore of the island. Ashen Roast, Blizzard Front and Spec Ops Sable had no trouble finding it, but it was trouble that found them at the top of the hill.
Ash! Heads up! shouted Blizzard.
Ash dived, narrowly avoiding a swooping wing raider brandishing a machete. With his friend clear, the blue blaster hurled a frozen ray at the attacker, striking him in his jet pack. The engine sputtered and failed, sending the sky raider unceremoniously and face first into the ground.
Ash leaped to his feet in time to see a warwolf charging his position. With but a thought his orange skin ignited in flame. The wolf flinched and tried clumsily to sidestep him. Ash held his right arm behind his back and formed a searing blade of red heat. He unleashed it at the man beast singing it across the chest causing its fur to erupt in flames like a brushfire. The flaming hero turned to his cooler ally while the wolf scampered away still lit.
What the hell is goin on here? he asked.
Cmon, bro, Blizzard replied as he hurled another clust of icy shards at an incoming Sky Raider, You dont know a gang war when you see one?
Sable backed towards their position as she emptied a clip towards a squad of Council soldiers, pinning them down behind their rocky cover.
How about less talk and more violence, ladies, she said while quickly reloading her rifle.
From behind the bright rays of the sun a Sky Raider skiff screamed into view. With twin machine guns it strafed the ground, cutting a jagged line towards the three Paragon heroes. Ashen Roast leapt into the air with a trail of fire following behind him. He flew straight at the skiff, fiery blade in hand. Blizzard Front wrapped an arm around the narrow waist of Spec Ops Sable. She deadpanned a curious look his way.
I can avoid machine gun blasts without your assistance, thank you.
Blizzard did not respond. He froze the ground on which they stood and launched them forward with a blast of winter chill. They slid swiftly along the ice in an arc. As they neared the perimeter of his makeshift rink he froze more surface making the area an icy mess littered with slipping, clumsy Council soldiers. While exciting, it was not enough to make Sable scream or even change facial expressions. She did grab onto him for support and with her free gun arm she picked off any enemy target that they passed.
Not bad, she remarked blandly, Think Ashen can handle the raiders?
I wouldnt be dancing with you if I didnt.
Ashen Roast could handle the Sky Raiders. He had faced them before and knew their style. They pretended to be master tacticians by applying hit and run tactics, but Ashen knew they were just cowards afraid of fiery fists in their faces. You hit one hard enough the rest would scatter, protecting their spineless hides and precious toys. Four wing raiders flanked him and attempted to intercept him on the way to the skiff. He sped up, determined to make the hovering vehicle an example of his might.
The skiff fired on him, certain not to miss at such close range. The other raiders veered off to avoid being struck by stray bullets. Ashen did not deviate from his path and met the automatic weapons fire head on. The intense heat emanating from his body caused the incoming bullets to explode prematurely. Through the popping shrapnel he flew onward unharmed and undaunted.
The vehicles pilot accelerated, hoping to ram the orange avenger out of the sky. Ashen Roast finally swerved. With both hands he swung his fire sword. With a haymaker stroke, he split the starboard engine from the rest of the craft. The dismembered turbine fell straight towards the earth as the rest of it spun uncontrollably towards the water. Ashen noted with satisfaction that the rest of the Sky Raiders fled, tails between their jetpacks. He landed next to his comrades who stood safely amongst wounded and bloodied foes. Nodding with approval, he extinguished his flame before he noticed Sables arm around Blizzard.
Thats only gonna end with disappointment. He said knowingly.
Excuse me? Sable asked unfazed. Still, she released her hold on the blue blasters waist.
Not a bad days work, Blizz observed, Though I think we screwed that whole low profile thing.
He motioned with his thumb at the entrance to the Pit. It had been barely manned when they arrived and bumbled into the Raider/Council scuffle. Now, there were at least a dozen rent-a-cops there, staring them down and trying to look butch, stroking shotguns and brandishing moustaches. Ash sighed.
Yea. Looks like. He said, You think Templar and Lopez found any action?
-------------------------
At that very moment, Leaping Lopez lazily traced the intricate pattern on the doily that rested in front of her upon the ornate coffee table that resided in the musty and painfully silent study of someone she had never met or ever heard of. She looked over at Masonic Templar as if to coax a silent explanation from her tin companion. He just stood silently, blending in as if he were one of the antique relics that littered the small room.
The young lady yawned and did her best to keep from falling asleep. When the door to the foyer opened revealing their host, she was snoring unabashedly.
...she is the one.
Maria Lopez heard that last phrase echo through her unconscious mind. It was spoken in a low reverberated barritone. It sounded far away. Suddenly she snapped awake.
She was in the study. Or rather, a study. She still did not know whose house this was. Right now she did not care. What was most pressing, was that her chivalrous comrade, Masonic Templar was no longer with her. She heard him speaking in hushed tones in an adjacent room. Faintly she could make another voice. It sounded like a woman.
Absently, she wiped away a triangle of drool from her mouth and stood up. The sun was setting making the room dim and a little spooky. The voices were coming from the room to her right. Yellow light crept in from beneath the heavy door. She crept silently towards the door and extended her hand towards the ornate handle.
------------------
Cmon. Lets check it out, said Blizzard Front eagerly.
Ashen looked at his friend dubiously. Sable just looked at him. Before them at the base of The Pit was another pit, only this one was a bar. It was a dingy wooden building that seemed to be held together with neon signs and loud classic rock. Inside the place was crawling with surly, flannelled miners.
Theres better places to drink around here, Ash told his friend.
How do you know? Blizzard asked.
Well, Ash reasoned, Theres gotta be.
Well, were here and Im thirsty now. Besides I bet a lot of these guys work for Cage. Probably know some useful info.
Ash finally conceded, Fine.
Blizzard clapped once and rubbed his hands together and turned towards Sable.
How bout you, blondie?
She considered for a moment before replying, Its not the worst idea youve had, but I really need to change. Ill meet you guys back here in an hour. Dont start anything until I get back.
She started walking back towards town while Blizzard Front made his way towards the pub. Ashen Roast started to follow him, then suddenly changed directions.
You know what? he said, I think Sables got the right idea. Ill be back later, bro.
The blue blaster watched his friend catch up to Sable. He grinned and shook his head before going inside.
-------------------------
Leaping Lopez turned the knob slowly and pushed open the door. The bright lights inside washed over her vision. She shielded her eyes with her hand as she walked into the room and adjusted to the brightness. Whatever conversation that was going on stopped once she was in the room.
She saw Masonic Templar, looming impressively as he always did. Across from him was a stern looking woman. She was platinum blonde and seemed to be in her fifties. She wore a conservative suit that was colored purple. She looked like a grape librarian. Between them was a table
Ah, Templar said as he noticed her, You are awake.
No, not a table. It was a glass case, a long cylindar about seven feet long. Moving closer, she realized it was not just a case. There was a body inside. It was a coffin.
The purple woman spoke, Hello, young lady. My name is Masha Tanner. Im-
What in Gods name is going on in here? Lopez demanded.
The coffin contained the preserved body of the Sun Slayer.
-----------------------
Blizzard Front sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. He immediately liked this place. Though full of working class schlubs blowing off steam after a hard days work, none of them stopped to stare at him. He felt immediately welcome and invisible. Everyone was in good spirits and the feel good vibe infected the young man even before his glass was filled.
He swivelled around on his stool and surveyed the bars patrons. The only women in the crowd were the waitresses. He was sure when Ashen arrived he would say something about this being a sausage fest. Blizzard did not mind. For the moment, this was the greatest place on earth.
That moment died when the front door opened. Everyone in the place fell silent. Blizz spun around to see what it was.
The figure in the doorway was in a weathered armored suit. It was secondary target number one, also known as Diver 8.
Marsha Tanner seemed flustered, but only for a moment.
She recovered and addressed the young heroine, Allow me to explain.
Leaping Lopez did not.
Templar, whats going on? she asked, What are you doing here? With the Sun Slayers dead body?!
Masonic Templar remained silent, but only for a moment.
Sun Slayer was murdered by Corsage-
I know that!
Please, he said in a soothing tone, let me finish.
Lopez composed herself with a brief huffing sound and stared at her teammate. His explanation had better be good, her eyes revealed.
Templar continued, Sun Slayer was murdered by Corsage. He died trying to protect the citizens of Atlas Park from her and her cohorts. But that was not his mission.
Lopez looked a little puzzled. She waited for Templar to finish.
You see the Sun Slayer, an intergalactic champion, only travels to earth when there is cosmic peril that threatens us. He died before his message was delivered to Freedom Corps. Our planet is in danger. And only the Slayer knows from what. We need him to tell us.
--------------------
Blizzard Front marvelled. He could not believe what he was seeing. It was not the sight of the lumbering metal fiend Diver 8 that gave him pause. It was the fact that he was strolling. The wooden floorboards creaked under his weight and his armor looked unwieldly and clumsy, yet somehow he managed a casual saunter.
All eyes in the bar watched as he moseyed to a booth filled with four dirt smeared workers. They had their eyes buried in their domestic pints. When the brute stopped, one of them sheepishly looked up at him. Diver 8 had something in his right hand and held it up for them to see. After a moment he dropped it uncerimoniously on the table. From Blizzards vantage point behind the metal menace it was difficult to see, but he recognized the object. It was the charred remains of a trigger mechanism for a homebrew bomb.
Diver seemed to glare accusingly at the man, though his eyes were unseen behind his visor. The others in the booth did not look up. They trembled like motherless kittens. The man who dared to look dared now to speak.
W-what do you want? he wisped.
Diver 8 levelled his vision squarely at this man.
You left you signature behind, foreman. His grating voicebox squawked.
No! Please. I didn-
Oh, I see. You Scrapyarders are real tough when youre blowing up office buildings and killing innocent sanitation workers. But when you got a chance to fight back, face to face, youre spine falls right out your [censored].
Diver grabbed the table in his hand and with stunning ease uprooted the bolted down surface and flung it behind him. Blizzard winced as it splintered on its impact with the bar. He knew he should call the others, but with the stark silence inside he did not know how to do it without attracting the attention of this dangerous villain. He would have to act soon, for terrorist or not, he was not about to let this man be beaten to death. He covertly activated his comm unit, hoping the others would hear his prediciment and come running.
The Scrapyarders were shaking uncontrollably and covering their faces defensively. The foreman tried to look brave as he continued to look back at his probable executioner.
Stand up. Diver ordered him.
Leave him alone. Blizzard was slightly shocked that it was he who spoke.
Without a beat, the villain whirled around and pointed at him.
Stay outta this, Outcast. Youre a long way from home.
The former Outcast decided to hold his tongue and his freezing blasts a little longer as Diver turned back to his prey. He prayed Ash and Sable were listening.
On you feet, worm.
The foreman stood up slowly, he shook with knees buckling beneath him. He eyes pleaded for mercy.
What are you gonna do to me? he whimpered.
Not to you, Diver sneered, Cage wants this to hurt in the worst way.
He turned and motioned at the front doors that, as if on cue, swung open again. Gasps of horror followed as Doctor Hate and Corsage stormed the room, each holding a hostage in front of them. Hate manhandled a woman in her forties. Corsages victim was a girl who could not be more than ten years old.
A jagged sharp thorn extended from Corsages wrist. It pressed up agains the throat of the little crying girl in her pajamas. One small thrust would empty an artery all over the dusty floor. Blizzard Front knew this and knew he could not allow it.
He saw the mother was in no better shape with the sadistic Doctor Hate behind her. His Hate Rays could emit from any part of his body. There was no sure way to know when and how he would strike. The only clear knowledge was that he would strike. Soon.
Blizzard saw the foreman, now on his knees, pleading with Diver to spare his family. The metal menace was unmoved. He stood still waiting for just the right moment to order his cohorts to extinguish their victims. Divers hand moved. It was moving upward as if to give a signal.
Blizzard Front fired a concentraterd blast of ice into the back of the brute. Diver 8 was pushed forward and he struggled to remain standing. Blizz did not give him or his associates the chance to react. He froze the floor in solid ice. Diver slipped and fell down face first, narrowly missing the grovelling foreman. The floor buckled and splintered in places upon his impact. The bars patrons all ran for cover and dove out windows. Within a second the place was deserted, save for three villains, a lone hero, the foreman and his family.
Corsage and Hate threw their hostages to the floor. Though surprised, they were not stunned. Corsage leapt at the hero, thorns already spawning all along her slender body. Hate rolled to his right into a crouch. He focused his dark energy into his fist and aimed at his target. Focused on their new target, they did not notice their hostages flee out the front door.
Blizzard activated his emergency beacon and slid backwards away from Corsages barbed haymaker. She hit the slick ground and slid clumsily into the bar. Hate unleashed his ray. A beam of pure darkness flew towards the blasters head, too quickly to dodge. Instinctively he formed an icy shield in front of himself to divert it. The darkness collided with the ice sending frozen shrapnel across the room. Corsage caught a rather sizable sliver in her thigh. She shrieked with pain.
Doc! she cried, Watch what youre doing, you freaking idiot!
Doctor Hate stood up and leered at his enemy.
Thats it, my dear, he said, Let your unhappiness power my victory.
The certainty in the doctors voice unnerved the lone hero. He decided quickly that he needed more room to keep the fight going in his favor. At once he froze Hates feet to the floor in a block of ice and zipped for the door. The villain tossed an ethereal blob of darkness into the heros path. Blizzard was moving too fast and could not avoid it. It grew into murky tentacles that at first slowed, then stopped completely his forward momentum.
What is this? Blizzard demanded.
Your doom, calmly replied the doctor as he prepared another blast.
Quickly, the hero raised his arms to counter. He screamed with pain before either of them fired. Corsage had hurled three jagged thorns into his back. Valiantly he still tried to aim at his target, but the neurotoxins were already at work in his bloodstream. His eyes lost focus and his limbs became incredibly heavy. Hate threw his darkness at him and it pounded him in the chest like an angry gorilla fist. Wheezing for air and trying not to asphyxiate on the vomit he felt creeping up his asaphagus, Blizzard Front collapsed to the floor.
Lying on his side, he saw Diver 8 slowly stand up. He could hear Corsages girlish laugh as the brute stomped his way through the icy floor towards the helpless vigilante.
-------------------------------
Blizzard! Blizzard! Can you hear me? Ashen Roast screamed as he flew threw the night sky.
Were almost there, Spec Ops Sable said evenly as she clung to his back, It looks like hes still in the bar.
Ashen grit his teeth in apprehension.
Hang on, bro. Were comin.
------------------------------
Pick him up, Diver said.
You, Corsage huffed, Youre the one with super strength. And I got stuck in the leg thanks to stupid Doc and his-
Pick him up!
Corsage and Hate lifted the fallen hero up by his shoulders. He tilted to his right as Corsage struggled to hold him. Divers metallic hand reached out and grabbed him by the chin.
You cost me my commission, blue boy, squawked the brutes voicebox, Im gonna make sure that never happens again.
He formed a fist and reared back to strike Blizzards head from his shoulders.
Wait! Doctor Hate shouted suddenly.
Startled by his sudden interruption, Diver 8 hesitated. Both he and Corsage looked to their comrade for an explanation. The doctor let a malevolent grin cross his face.
Slowly, he urged.
Corsage hated Vince Dubrowski. His stale cigar smell, his greasy used car salesman hair, his big fat [censored], she hated all of it. But mostly she hated the way he would ruffle her hair as he left her teams new underwater lair as he had just done.
See yas later, kid. He said, passing her with a smile and a smarmy wink.
Corsage sighed with disgust and slammed the airlock hatch closed behind him. She had to restrain herself from flooding the room with seawater before he boarded his one man submersible. As much as she loathed his presence he was, at least for the moment, her teams only source of much needed income. Operation: Mayhem had made her little band famous, but the traitorous Moon Wisp ended up with the payday.
The green light next to the hatch lit up signalling that Dubrowski was safely inside his tiny sub. Corsage hit the outside release button and the room filled with water. With the fat man finally out of her hair she stormed off for the control room.
----------------------------
They could hear her heels clanking along the metal floors towards them. The pace and intensity told them everything. Corsage was pissed. Again.
Oh, jeez, the armored Diver 8 groaned as he swiveled his chair away from the massive computer and monitor arrays.
Did you leave the toilet seat up again, Doc? Toy Boy asked.
Doctor Hate had his eyes closed as he savored the negative emotional energy approaching them.
If it would result in such a stimulating display of seething frustration, He replied to his young comrade, I would do so at every opportunity.
Corsage stomped in with a copy of the newspaper that Dubrowski had brought in with him. She stopped and held the crumpled gazette.
Have you seen todays paper? she demanded.
No, I havent had th- Diver started.
The angry green girl flung the paper in a wad into his lap. The armored brute took a moment to glare at the girl, hoping to remind her of who was in charge, before sorting the wrinkled mess in his lap. The headline read:
SNOW STORM!
Arctic Amazon, Ice Mistral battle over St. Martial
Beneath it, the picture told the story. In it the Mistral was standing with her back to the photographer on an unseasonably snowy street. Swooping down from the sky was Arctic Amazon with a sabre made of ice swinging towards her foe. Diver grimaced unseen beneath his helmet. He had heard this argument from his tiny teammate many times before and he was about to hear it again.
Well?! she shouted.
Diver knocked the paper onto the floor.
Arctics on the front. So what?
So what? So WHAT?! Corsage shrieked, That should be us thats what! Arctic goes solo and is off making headlines in St. Martial and were living underwater in a second hand Council base and running errands for Cage Consortium! We should be running this town!
Toy Boy giggled. He found her hilarious when she got all worked up. Diver 8 did not giggle. He was tired and uncomfortable inside his super powered suit. He stood up and silently started walking away.
Oh, no you dont, she said and hustled after him, Were gonna talk about this!
Not stopping or looking down at her, Diver replied, Talk about what? You want to go live with Arctic Amazon? You want me to ask her to come back?
No! No, thats not it. I just think we should set our sights higher.
They were getting near the hallway that leads to Divers side of the lair. Corsage knew she had to make her point quickly, as he was surely going to lock the hatch behind him.
She continued, What about Moon Wisp? We should be looking for her. Its bad press to let somebody steal from us and get away with it. Well, isnt it?
They reached the entrance. Diver turned around, blocking Corsage from coming inside.
Look where? he asked, Shes a teleporter. She could be on the freakin moon for all we know.
Well, something! We havent even fought a real super hero since Atlas Park. Im sick of strong arming Scrapyarders!
Super heroes? the metal man scoffed, You aint gonna find super heroes on the Rogue Isles.
-------------------------------
Maria Lopez, better known to the citizens of Paragon City as Leaping Lopez, stumbled as she exited the portal. It took all of her martial arts training to remain standing. Even though she was warned at Portal Corps that this form of travel might be unsettling for those unaccustomed, she was surprised at her lack of equlibrium. Luckily, the dizziness faded as fast as it came and she felt alert and stable after only a brief moment.
She turned around to see if her teammates had followed. As the swirling vortex that had brought them to the Rogue Isles collapsed inward she examined her three companions. Ashen Roast, the fiery brawler. Blizzard Front, the ice blaster. And Spec Ops Sable, the master markman.
The beautiful Puerto Rican next surveyed her surroundings. High ceilings. Musty atmosphere. Discarded wooden crates. It looked like they were in a dingy and condemned werehouse.
Looks like this is the place. Said Ashen Roast, as he lightly massaged his forehead.
It does, Sable remarked, But its a good spot for an ambush too. I wouldnt rule out a double cross.
A double cross from Longbow? Blizzard Front pondered.
Just keep your eyes peeled. Sable replied curtly.
Yea, Ash interjected wryly, Stay frosty.
Blizzard gave him a good natured scowl. Sable dropped to one knee and unslung her rifle. She aimed at the door to the far wall and peered through her scope. Lopez cocked her head quizzically at her while she scanned the area.
What are you doing?
Thermal vision, she said, then stood up and harnessed her weapon, Theres nobody here.
Pfff. I coulda told you that. Said Ash.
Sable turned to face the orange skinned hero. Her expression had not changed from the first time they met. It was locked in a kind of stoic boredom. He had been overwhelmed with just how gorgeous this woman was, and knew if he could just get her to smile everything would be alright. The world would stop turning to take notice. But, so far the earth kept right on spinning.
Our contact was supposed to meet us upon arrival. Doesnt that seem odd to you?
Maybe he got caught in traffic?
Or maybe hes dead, or hung upside down in an Arachnos interrogation room.
She pulled her commlink from her belt.
Im calling for an abort.
NO! Lopez shouted, startling the others.
She slapped the communicator from Sables hand. Sables expression did not change, however her posture switched instantly to a defensive stance. She already had unhooked her sidearm before the comm hit the ground. Her right hand grasped the butt of her pistol as she waited for Lopez to make another aggressive gesture.
Lopez did not back off, We have to give him more time. Please. This is an important mission. Its bigger than anything any of us have done before on our own and we should all be proud to have been chosen. Its going to be dangerous and it may not go smoothly. But if we can learn to be patient, to trust eachother and to work together, I know we will succeed.
Sable refastened her holster and responded, Nice speech. Touch me again and youre dead.
Blizzard Front gingerly stepped between them, careful not to inspire a karate kick to the groin or a .45 caliber bullet to his brain.
Ladies, please, he implored, Weve got a job to do. Lets-
The double doors in the front were sturdy steel. They were sturdy, but when kicked from the outside from the large anachronistic behemoth that loomed commandingly into the vast room, the doors were swollen and twisted metal on the dusty, concrete floor.
At about seven and a half feet tall, it was the largest suit of medieval armor they had ever seen. The fact that it was animated and weilding a sword with the heft of a Volkswagon made it all the more awe inspiring. It stomped calmly towards them, making no threatening gesture, other than just existing, that is. Sable snapped to her senses first and pointed her suddenly miniscule looking assault rifle at the giant knight. It stopped and looked at her. At least that was what it seemed to be doing. At this close range it became obvious that the helmet and the armor were empty. It was a living thing all on its own.