Deaths Row ((Open RP))

10:30 PM, Kings Row, 29th June

A lone Lost member was near the end of sifting duties in the bins near the Police station. A meal tonight would help him greatly for the following morning, he had been chosen to preach to passers by for the day. Banana peel.. Crisp packet.. Beer bottle.. Jackpot! The homeless man lifted an old pizza box from the bottom of the trash can with what looked like pizza crusts and an old slice.

When he was greeted by a crude explosive strapped to some bottles of green liquid, he barely had enough time to react to the quick beeping sound it made. The blast left no trace of who had been there, but the thick green fog and deafening rumble was a telltale sign for people to run, so they did.

Throughout Kings Row, echoes of multiple explosives rumbled, each one having been cleverly disguised and hidden. People tried to run, but were stopped dead as their lungs collapsed and body spasmed uncontrollably as the poisons in the air took effect.

Heroes from around the ciy were called, but similarly Villains saw an oppertunity and started pouring into the streets, a riot to soon start as they plunder houses and shops alike.

On the Rogue Isles, the villain Spruk had just left Pocket D. Disposing of the detonator, he catched a lift back to his home, hoping to hear of the chaos caused by this first attack.

(( This is open RP, anyone who may be in Kings at the time or would react to such an attack with haste are more than welcome. The gas is poisonous to most organic beings, killing any in the radius within seconds and is easily identifiable by a thick green fog, gas masks will protect you but not for long, regenerative powers will have a similar effect to a gas mask, the more powerful the regeneration the longer they would be safe. ))

The sound of a fist slamming into the mutated hulk of one of the less human members of the Losts face echoed around the alley way followed by the knocked out goon himself as what was now an it landed messily into a pile of rubbish.

Red Commissar cracked his knucked in irritation and unslung his modified Hero Corp Assault Rifle which he had named infamously as Sasha as his HUD display built into his gas mask wanrned him of multiple signatures at 3 o clock the alleys ways enterance.

He turned around and fired Sasha just above the entry way of the dank stinking Alley behind the almost recently looted pawn shop sending a stream of rubber bullets over the head of a group of Skulls who instantly changed their mind about looting the shop whilst the heroes were stopping the other looters. Red Commissar signaled to the Workers base for a hover turret to be deployed via Hammerspace.

It was only an hour since Spruk had detonated the bomb in Pocket D after taunting him, Cal and Magma. He knew the two other heroes were busy still at ground zero helping with the disinfecting and cloud control. The weight of the other eight hidden bombs lurked in his mind and he grit his teeth under his mask.

Stalking back into the Pawn Shop, dragging the last of the small group of Lost with him he located the organised pile other several other Kings Rows Gangs including a smashed pile of Clockwork gears underneath and added the latest fool he had crushed into it. Hearing glass tinkle, he quickly pulled a web grenade from his belt compartment and tossed into onto the pile covering the goons. Another shop was already being looted.

He moved fast, reloading another clip into Sasha hoping that Neko was working on an anti-toxin...

Post deleted by Redefette

The low volume jazz track provided a counter point to the mumbling of the coffee shop patrons, students for the most part, with the odd retired couple or young professional dotted amongst the clientèle. At one of the tables sat an oddly assorted trio, a nervous man dressed in a clean cut white suite, perspiring despite the air conditioning, a large man with thick beard and muscles that hinted at assisted body building and a little blond girl dressed in black denim, nursing a cup of tea.

'Judging by his nerves, he suspects we know about the amounts he's been siphoning for his own accounts' raising the cup to her mouth for a fake sip the girl gives the perspiring man a small smile as she mentally assessed him 'Of course he doesn't know he hasn't passed the limit yet'

“Listen To” the nervous man was cut off mid word, by a growl from the larger man.

Wiping his face with a napkin he started again.

“Listen Sarah, I know the F.D.A haven't classed any of this stuff as narcotics yet, but well some of the local capes don't care, lost a few of my pushers recently, some guy put them in the hospital” he watched the tea drinking child as if terrified of her.


' Listen not the treacherous tongue, the false snake in white' shaking her head, she cleared her throat, before speaking

“Arrange for this cape to run into a few dealers, when they aren't carrying anything illegal on them at all. Preferably some new faces, have them press charges, should get the cape off your back for a few months at least.” she said, placing her tea on the table

'Itchy, itchy itchy fingers and thumbs, terror now, something wicked this way comes' the girl looked round, just as there was a loud bang, the coffee shop window shattered, rising to her feet the girl joined the panicked rush to the streets, accompanied by the larger of the two men.

Panic filled the girls sight, mayhem as people rushed away from a cloud of green gas, falling and clawing their way forward, or lying still and twitching as they breathed it in.

'Oh the grass has become clouds, maybe the cloud will be grass, topsy turvy its the revolution come brave comrades!'

“Boss! BOSS!” the bearded man shook the girl, until her eyes became focused.

The girl looked round, some where a baby was crying from an upturned walker, a passer by scooped it up, brave even in this time of terror.

'Suffer ze children?'

“My things Ghoul, we've got an interesting opportunity here”

He passed a bag to her, thick material covered in many zips, from it she pulled a long flowing cloak and a metallic mask, clipping the mask to her face she dramatically spun the cloak as she put it on, pulling the hood up, she walked into the chaotic streets.

'But aren't we all gods children?'

From the sewers, groups of Lost and Vahzilok swarmed to check out the commotion and to make the most they could of the scene. On the streets, Hellions and Skulls were battling with eachother, fighting over stolen goods. Clockwork were starting to scatter, grabbing what they could using the toxic screen for cover.

Squads of PPD started to arrive from Galaxy City and Independence Port as the Kings Row station had become enveloped with gas, trapping the officers inside. With a riot forming on the streets with stampedes of panicking citizens, chaos was running foul in Kings Row.

After seeing the chaos the scientist eyes widen and she stumbles to her experiment in a panic to see if the anti-toxin would work and knock Spurk out after taking a sample from his drink when she met him after she see it work she runs to the nearest phone and calls Red Commissar "Hello Red!, I was able to create a anti toxin where you want to use it?" Lucy waits for Red's answer.

When the first reports of detonations came over the PPD Radio Frequency Healer Kid had been working over in the Hollows helping some new heroes navigate the dangers in the Gulch. Hearing that Kings Row had been bombed he stopped and listened intently.

"Healer Kid, Registered Hero ID No: 220584, Requesting Confirmation of Detonations in Kings Row."

"That is Affirmative Healer Kid, Multiple Detonations reported, hero assistance requested."

"On my way control. Healer Kid out."

He threw a last few buffs at a pair of bewildered heroes and vanished, he soon appeared in the Tiki Lounge in Pocket D, he ran through the doors and knocked over 3 dancers "Sorry!!" he called behind him "Would never have happened if I was allowed to TP in here... no offence Zero."

He reached the elevator and just as the doors were opening he teleported to the Kings Row door. The bouncer nodded to him "Knew I'd see you here eventually, its your own neighbourhood after all, the place is a mess, be careful."

He nodded and opened the door, the scene that greeted him could only be described as Anarchy.

Every villain group, Minor and Major was out in force. In every alley, a homless person was either being taken in by the Lost or being abducted for some ritual by the Circle, Skulls, Hellions and the Outcast were fighting in the streets, the whole area being free territory to whoever could be standing last. The Trolls were destroying anything not nailed down.

The more organised groups were busy looting whatever shops were in the area, Kings would never be Steel Canyon in terms of shops but there were plenty of private family run building in the area.

Something within snapped and his eyes flashed with lethal energy, he teleported forwards 10 foot and appeared before a stunned Council Galaxy Soldier. "GET OUT MY AREA!" he had transformed mid tp and was now a hulking 8ft tall winged lizard. The Galaxy ran.

He turned and began searching for other heroes and hints as to what had happened.

Red Commissar nodded and snapped the PPD Radio off, slipping back into his belt and looked into the sky, where the odd tint somehow caused by Spruks chemical bomb attack was beginning to lift, but the sounds of sirens and plumes of smoke were replacing it, it seems the Hellions were trying another turf grab while the Skulls went nuts with the looting and choas.

It was good news that Lucy had the cure for the toxin in the work, but first they had to locate the remaining eight bombs. He glanced down at the ground of the pavement he was standing on, idly glancing over the road and spotted a manhole in the road.

"Of course. Ze sewers...". Nodding, he reached for his Communicator. He hoped Catz was finished with her riot control.

On the Isles, Spruk sat infront of his TV with a crude receiver and communicator attached to an elaborate recorder. He wired it up to the television and relaxed, taking a small microphone and talking into it.

"Show me what you got."

With that a vision of destruction and anarchy appeared on the Television, a live feed from Paragon City with Spruk on the front seat, popcorn in one hand, microphone in the other. "Any Heroes in sight?" The imagine flickers and moves violently as the unseen recorder sprints down the road, brief shots of Heroes rushing around the scene come on, one of them gets caught in the gas. "Close up! Close up!" A look of glee overcame the villain as the cameraman followed out his orders.


The poisonous clouds were slowly dissipating, thinning out in the air but still evident, spreading along the winds like a feather made of glass. Those caught in the weaker gas were not as lucky as those in the initial attack, some taking hours to finally meet their maker.

Paragon Police Department's SWAT and riot team soon arrived at the scene, with a plan of action fully revised. It seemed the whole force had begun to descend on the town, as van after van offloaded SWAT police around the wider perimeter of the incidents. Each officer had been protected with armoured gear and heavy-duty gas masks. They were armed with tear gas, smoke grenades, special rifles loaded with rubberized ammunition and most other gadgets. They moved with premeditated precision, hurrying into thier positions. Within the hour, the area had been quarantined and barricaded with roadblocks. Nobody was getting in or out of the neighbourhood unless by ambulance, under police arrest or dead. As the local heroes attended to help restore order, the police were gradually moving inwards, trying to overpower the rioting thugs while rescuing the sickly.

*****

"No offence Sabrina" said Lieutenant Hicks, following the line of SWAT police. "This whole fu*king neighbourhood should just be evacuated and blown the sh*t up, I swear to God. I mean look at it, it's a run-down slum, a damn crime-infested ghetto. I don't understand how you can even bare to live here."

"Sometimes you just do what you gotta do Lieutenant" she replied. "I failed my hero career so I gotta make do with a sh*tty security job and the odd patrols with your sorry a*se."

"Yeah well listen here now, I need your input on this situation. The SWAT team are equipped with armoured suction canisters but we're not sure how effective they'll be against the corrosive gas. Is there anything Dragonfly can do to help us out? About time you dusted off the old costume, don't you think?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Since having my little boy I've put on some weight" Sabrina joked. "Tell you what, you get me kitted up and I'll see what I can do about these flesh-eating stink bombs. These punk rioters I'll do for free!"

Kitted out in her regulation Longbow Officer uniform, not that it ever stopped people calling her a Warden, Cerridwyn jumped off the transport truck as a few squads broke off to deal with rioters, looters or any other opportunistic criminals to give the clean up some space. They'd piled right on through everything to near the edge of the cloud anyone without a ventilator staying well clear of it.

"Well this seems needless." says Cerridwyn over the private squad talk channel "Ten dollars it's from the Isles, ten more the usual idiots STILL bend over backwards to pretend the people over there are all cuddly and misunderstood innocents. Any takers?" Jenkins barks a laugh down the radio, but no one seems to be biting it. Cerri didn't blame them either, this was a textbook cry for attention. "No? Well let's do this people."

Spreading her arms out wide, the air around the street goes dead then rustles towards the gas, blowing it back as it disperses. Twisting the air currents as she advances, soon strong gales sweep the streets, whipping the clouds into condensed swirling towers. She left the mini-tornados running while waiting for a clean up crew and with a blur of speed shot off down the street looking for the next cloud to take care of.

' Tap dancing Jesus Christ!!'

Tomb peered from around the corner where a large hulking winged lizard, was scaring away the local riff raff

“What the hell is that?” she muttered in amazement

' Alligator man from mars? Or maybe a Venusian lizard here for the mysterious Plan X!'

“Wonder what its here for?” she muttered popping her head round the corner

'Evidently, all this is its work, WWSD?

“Wut?” she asked confused

The large man just watched the little girl, truthfully he'd become used too and a little jaded by her mood swings and self conversations.

'What Would Statesman Do?'

“Ah right!”

With a loud yell of “DIE ALIEN DIE!” the black clad little girl dived from around the corner, sub machine guns barking as she sprayed hot earthling justice in the general direction of Healer Kid

Healer Kid ducked as the hail of bullets peppered the area around him, "Alien? Where?" then he realised that they were talking about him!

He span and was hit in the chest by a few bullets. He fell and reverted to his regular childlike form. He used what energy he had to heal the wounds as best he could, he sat up and called out to the figure "Who are you?"

'Impudent whelp, don't you know the face of your better? I the mighty Tomb stand before you, maybe if you crawl on your knees like a dog and [Radio Edit], then maybe I won't [Radio Edit] '

The little girl covered her mouth and hissed “Can't say that!”

' oh yeah the warrants and stuff, be the hero just make something up'

Striking a dramatic guns akimbo pose the little girl introduced her self

“I'm Gun Pixie, a machine gun sprite, the big fellow is a fairy body builder!” she gestured at the large man, who grunted in acknowledgment, his face a wry expression of tolerance.

' Watch your brains he's totally sizing them up, brain eating ET son of a [mutter mutter] '

“Any idea what's going on?, its like a Jonas Brothers concert out there, with all the screaming and mayhem and people dying!” she asked holstering her guns

HK was tense the big guy didn't seem very friendly, the girl did however and it was her he addressed. "All I know is what the PPD Control could tell me, Multiple Explosions, seems every villain group in Paragon is enjoying the chance to loot or destroy anything left standing. I grew up here, he looks at his surroundings, there used to be a small park just beyond those building but judging by the green gas, I'd say it's not there now."

He took a tentative step forwards and extended a hand, "The names Healer Kid by the way and before you say it," he looks at Tomb, "I'm NOT an alien, I'm a mutant."

He pauses to launch a ball of radiation at a clockwork sprocket. "Clockwork are getting ambitious. Looks like they might be trying to build a Paladin nearby. If it gets finished, we're in trouble. Can we count on each other?" he steps forwards again, hand still extended.

' Kill it, its tricksy and sneaky and needs to be killed!'

Tomb shook Healer Kids hand in a very vigorous and over the top way, the large man just sighed and shook his head.

“Sure we can count on each other, though like a calculator might be better. Okay Charles lead the way!” dashing into the alleyways.... she turned and dashed back

“Okay where are these clockwork guys? You know people had better start calling us the dungeon masters, because this Paladin is going to fall, loose all its spells and the player is going to rage quit the group!”

"They tend to build it in an area with a large amount of energy available, must take loads to get him going." he jumps onto a wall and looks around him. "Over there, there are a lot of clockwork gathering over there....oh, guys.... that isn't Paladin, its too big..."

Over the street a Freakshow Tank smashed his way into a shop, his grunts followed close behind.

The zone was quickly falling to the chaos, it wouldn't be long before the zone was lost.

'I remember children'

Tomb attempted to copy Healer Kids actions, but the wall proves too tall, with a grunt the 'fairy body builder' lifts her onto his shoulders.

'Feeding flocks of pigeons'

A quick glance for the overly large clockwork construct, another for the freakshow raid.

“Hmmm criminal scum, a cowardly and superstitious lot!” she mumbled

'I remember sunshine'

“Alley oop!” with a quick kick of her legs she spring boarded from the body builders shoulder and over the wall, her graceful landing only slightly marred by the way she had to turn around and tug on her cape, until it freed itself from the wall

'And you were mine'

Confidently she strolled out into the street.

“Hey!” she called out to the gang members

“What, hey you kinda look... have we met?” one of the mohawked individuals, asked before screaming and clutching at his leg as he fell writhing to the floor

' Bang Bang!'

“I shot you down!” she said proudly, white teeth glinting through the gun smoke.

A second bark from her machine guns, and another freakshow ganger went down screaming.

'Bang Bang!'

“You hit the ground!” said around the magazine as she pulled it free with her teeth, reloading as the injured freakshow members were dragged inside the shop.

'Well the band were playing
And the booze began to flow
But the sound came over on the police car radio
Down at Precinct 49
Having a tear-gas of a time
Sergeant Baker got a call from the governor of the county jail'

Answering fire broke the rest of the shops window, the little girl scurried across the floor, diving behind a dumpster.

“I could do with some help here!” she yelled loudly, as the dumpster started to rock from the gang members shots.

'Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets'

“I don't have any rubber bullets dammit!” she spat, before poking her gun round the corner and spraying blindly

' Oh.... okay then'

He awoke in the Industrial Avenue neighborhood of Kings Row. Lungs burning with each breath. Looking around he saw the lifeless bodies of his fellow lost.

Wait that wasn't right. He was not a member of the lost. Was he? Shaking his head as he stumbled trying to get away from the corpses. A few memories came to him. His life in Baumton a simple high school student with a part time job as a fast food cook. He remember now that life ended the day the Rikti bomb went off.

"MONSTERS! MURDERERS!" He fell to his knees screaming as the assault of memories long buried returned with a rush. The Rikti distroyed his life like many he ended up homeless thanks to the war.

He rose and staggered survival instincts driving him to seek shelter and burst into an apartment. The gas has hit here as well he ignored the bodies as he went to the kitchen and drank from a jug of milk.

That's when it happened nothing painful just frighting as he spotted his reflection in the steel refrigerator finish. "NOOO" terror filled him as he backed away from the twisted image. How? Why? These questions filled him as he ran into the bathroom and looked at the mirror.

His form was twisted thought his basic form was human he was mutated. Sinking down in the tub he curled up as tight as he can. Memories once again attacked him. Flashbacks to his homeless life hiding from the Rikti in the sewers. How long did he live on the streets after the War began in 2002 he couldn't remember. Sometime after the attacks stopped he was grabbed by a group of the Lost and his world ended again.

"What did they do to me..." He forced himself to look again in the mirror. He was a Lost, no that wasn't right. He touched his deformed face. Something else happened. The gas somehow his body reacted to the gas causing even more mutations. "Even among monsters I'm a freak."

He went looking about the apartment and finding a sheet he ripped strips from it and wrapped his hands. Then finding a sweatshirt with a hood he put that on and hid his face with a cloth mask. Looking again at the mirror checking if he could hide even more.

Returning to the living room he stood by the window and looked out. One thing he does remember is that out in the open was danger. To stay alive you hide. Saying softly to himself "Alright John now what do you do?" He looked at the TV as news of the event was being reported.

But not every super in King's Row that day had the best of intentions.

Two minutes before the attack...

There was a loug rummaging noise from one of the thousands of dumpsters spread around King's row, in a dark and neglected alley, only visited by people who call you "friend" and their victims. Today, it was home to a giant wolf. The creature was a full six feet tall, and weighed in at a little over a ton of muscle, bone and vicious instinct. What passerby might mistake a large wolf for rummaging in the trash, was really a large wolf devouring a corpse it had dragged into the dumpster, where it had waited silently for prey to pass by.

Unfortunately, it had hidden in a dumpster with a bomb in it.

The wolf ripped another chunk from the man's intestines, pawing at his head in an effort to flay it open to get at the wonderful banquet within. And it was happily nosing through the man's stomach, looking for the spleen, when the gas bomb went off right behind it. The wolf didn't stand a chance, and died within seconds.

A long ways away, in Perez Park, something stirred.

***

But, then again, a great deal of the supers at King's Row did have the best intentions.

High in the sky, resting on the edge of a skyscraper, rested a dozing man. Wearing a white robe to conceal combat fatigues beneath, with white hair that had been dyed black at the fringes. He serenely surveyed all of King's row beneath him. And watched as green murk flooded the streets. And watched as the rioting began. And watched as everything went straight to hell...

"Its been awhile since anybody had the guts to do something like thit." He murmured softly to himself. He knew how this would go. Arachnos had done it once in the past, and the situation was looking to be about the same. Hundreds would die in the initial minute. Rioting would begin within the next five. A cure or antidote would be developed within the hour. The entire one would be on the verge of collapse within a day, with thousands dead and missing.

...Unless enough people answered the call.

The man stood, and teleported down into the streets, drawing a thin rapier from folds of his robe and marched down the street. He avoided the alleys for now. He could do the most help by cleaning up the main streets, the villains and scum that thought to hassle the civilian population directly in the chaos. Before him was a group of Trolls, who had decided their time in King's Row would be best spent on ripping apart civilians in the middle of the street.

'People like them are the most dangerous in this situation. They need to be put down first.' The man thought to himself, teleporting into their midst and downing two of the green monsters with a flash of metal. He continued to fight, cutting down every villain he saw as he went, traveling down the street in a straight line.

(( Yay, new forums = more RP threads to obsess over!

Also, not entirely sure how much liberty I'm allowed to take here. If I overstep bounds, PM me and I'll edit.
A few things to clarify:
-the whole zone is covered in this gas?
-all exits are sealed?
-gas is corrosive, even to inorganic materials?
-Also how corrosive exactly?
-Is someone running this or is it more make it up as we go along?))
-------------

What in all the nine hells was that?!

Inside the vault of the King's Row bank, a girl in a black armored powersuit looked up as the ground shook under her. The bag she'd been filling with stolen money fell forgotten to the floor as she stood up and went back out to the main room, where her Assault Bot was menacing the bank's former guards. "Mac, report", she ordered sharply, prompting the robot to turn its head around to face her.

"Multiple detonations detected, unknown source or yield. Automatic broadcast channel monitoring activated.... reporting estimated ten plus devices", Mac dutifully rattled off in a crisp robotic monotone. "Suggested course of action: temporary retreat, acquire additional information", it added helpfully, not once moving its two plasma cannons away from the terrified hostages.

"Sounds like a plan to me", the girl replied after a moment's thought, turning to the hostages. "Looks like you all get to keep your cash today, aren't you lucky", she told them, before signalling Mac to move out and following him out of the bank.

As they got to the door, though, the robot again stopped. "Warning", it said it a more urgent tone than it'd used previously. "Possible biological contaminant detected. Advise enacting precautionary measures immediately." The last part proved to be unnecessary as at the mention of contaminants the girl had flipped open a panel on the suit's right forearm and jabbed a series of buttons. From out of the suit's collar unfolded a matching helmet which quickly locked into place to form an airtight seal, followed by the suit itself emitting a soft hum as the built-in forcefield generators spun themselves up to full operating capacity and projected a near impenetreble field around her.

That done, she proceeded outside into the greenish murk that filled the air, checking its effects on the forcefield and the suit on her HUD as she went. She should be fine, she decided. From the looks of things, her air supply would give out before the forcefield and suit armor did. Meaning she had roughly three hours, tops, before she needed to be out of here. Considering, she looked up through the gas at the sky, which she couldn't even see. Which meant one of two things, either the gas was very thick or it extended very high up. One way to find out, she decided. A gesture to Mac and the big robot fired its boosters, catapulting itself into the air and accelerating upwards at a fairly respectable rate. Hopefully he'd hit clear air before he hit his altitude limit.

However, it became apparent that she wasn't alone down here. Mentally cursing her snap decision to send the robot away, she reached for the heavily modified pulse rifle slung across her back as a sizable group of Trolls became visible through the fog. They hadn't seen her yet, she thought. She'd prefer to keep it that way, they looked decidedly angrier than the average Troll. Fortunately for her, it seemed for once the heroes of the city were useful. Specifically, the one who dropped from the rooftops with sword in hand to down the whole group in mere seconds.

"Oh, this is so very not good...", the armored girl muttered to herself, deciding she didn't want to fight this hero. Too late though, he was coming down the street towards her. Thus she took the obvious course of action and fired her own rocket boots, following her assault bot into the sky. Her exhaust trail would be easy enough to follow, though. She hoped that hero didn't have flight abilities of his own.

They graveyard was empty, as usual. Well, almost. There was one boy there, a teenager by the looks of it, standing by a grave, his arms crossed. He had shaggy black hair that hit his shoulders, a red hoodie and a pair of jeans. Just some normal street-punk, and in the Row, he was more than likely part of a gang.

Blake stood in front of the grave, reading the words slowly, seeming to digest them, although there weren't that many. It simply read "Marco". He remembered the day silently, then moved for the first time in a good half-hour. He knelt down next to the grave and was about to put something down when a large explosion boomed behind him from a nearby garbage pile.

He swore loudly, getting up quickly and looking around, his eyes wide and alert. Seeing green gas float up from the dumpster, he put his hood on and wrapped it around his mouth, breathing steadily. Then, taking to the skies, he looked around to find somewhere he could go, or someone he could speak to. The very old and burnt King of Hearts card on the grave slowly blew away.

Blake flew lower to the ground until he saw a flash of metal through the smoke. Changing direction and going towards it, he saw a man taking on a group of Trolls.

Blake's hands lit up as they were consumed with fire. He threw his arms out and a steady stream flew towards one, burning it in the back and causing it to fall to the ground. The teen was about to do the same thing again when he started coughing violently, almost having to go on his knees from the force.

"What should we do?" asked Blake to the other man weakly, tightening his make-shift mask with one hand while forming a ring of fire around a Troll's feet with the other.

Sub-Basement, Munitions Factor
The FAB, Grandville
0700 Local time

“I’m telling you,” footsteps seemed to echo endlessly in these hallowed halls, “this is a major chance to test the true adaptively of Project 4D414400. Project 4D414400 is more commonly known as Project MAD – mutually assured destruction, Maddox, mad – whatever you want to call it.”

“What is your reasoning behind this, Doctor?”

“Are you declining the chance to possibly be indirectly responsible for discovering some method of ridding this plague and quite possible 4D41440? That would be a mistake, not to critique your actions as you’re clearly my superior in both rank and, well, rank. Further information on Project 4D414400 is classified and for my eyes only. ”

“Answer the question.”

“I’m not used to being denied so I already sent the transport out. I’m the senior officer in my division not in the general lab. I merely needed your approval for the equipment I would be sending him for aid.” Skjbene laughed to himself. Deception was the best way to achieve his goals.

“Very well,” pen touched paper, ink left a mark that looked vaguely like ‘authorized.’ No signature, no initials, just ‘authorized.’ That one word can make or break an experiment and Skjbene knew it. If his superior had actually read the equipment list he would have noticed that Project 4D414400 was named in the equipment listing.

Fitting seeing as Project 4D414400 was legally the property of Arachnos and Skjbene himself. The Project is seen as nothing more than mere equipment for research and development of new and more powerful weapons and biological terrors.

“Thank you very much, Dr. Facade.” Skjbene couldn’t help but laugh at the irony as he walked down the sprawling hallway and into an elevator simply marked ‘testing.’ He entered the flimsy elevator that must have been left over from deep-crust mining, quickly entered his five digit password and began the descent…

TSBCRL Subterranean Division,
The FAB, Granville
0745 Local time


After descending a grand total of three thousand one-hundred and thirty-seven point six feet into the earth’s crust, the elevator came to a halt. Another five digit password was entered for seemingly no purpose. He stepped out and his feet touched the clean, smooth, almost heavenly floor.

Skjbene ran a hand through his hair and spoke quietly to himself, “you’re God down here. No one ever hears of you… but you’re God. You’re important; you’re loved – even if you’re hated.” After speaking those brief and creed-like words, he set off towards his personal lab. On his way he encountered only screams, cries of pain, hissing pipes, and cold, almost dead lab technicians performing procedures that would make the scientists at Unit 731 cringe.

Upon reaching his personal and private lab he quickly slipped on his headset and special glasses. These two devices would allow him to directly hear and see in real time what Project 4D414400 saw and heard…

"Uh huh."

"Yes, understood."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"Look, I've got it. Get in there, melt some faces. Data's what you want, right, you sick *******?"

"Understood."

"Yeah, we just landed."

"... Yeah yeah, I know, you're always watching."

A young child, roughly eight or nine, casually stepped out of an Arachnos transport dressed in nothing but an oversized flack jacket and equally oversized shorts, the legs reaching down past his ankles and the sleeves of his jacket hiliariously rolled so that his hands were free. The jacket he wore was riddled with holes where bullets had been shot, and was black both from its fiber and from the soot of a thousand fires. It appeared that this jacket had been through quite a lot, even if its current occupant lacked that same description. His shorts, however, appeared to be brand new, and, in fact, one might notice a forgotten tag hanging out from the waist. They were a beige color, contrasting the jacket's darkly augmented coloring.

His brown hair was cut relatively short, and equally brown eyes watered as he was exposed to the noxioius fumes, his small frame doubling over in sickness as he was so suddenly exposed.

"Wh- What the Hell? You told me nothing of this damned gas!" The transport was already long gone, leaving no one to help the child's coughing and fuming. Steadily, however, he recovered, and, after only ten minutes, was able to rise off of the ground where he'd collapsed, now seemingly unaffected by that which had killed so many.

Muttering a well concealed, "Dammit Doc," he began to walk, rubbing his head so as to address his slowly dulling headache. "You didn't say anything about this gas. What gives?"

---

Yet more walking didn't reveal much outside of the occasional looter who thought he could survive the biological agent and many, many corpses, the sight of which only mildly disturbed the youth at this point. "I really don't see what you want me to do here, Doc."

A few Meat Doctors, primed with buzzsaws and heavy duty gas masks, suddenly marched past him, literally giggling with glee as the sheer amount of corpses now at their disposal. "A cornocopia of gore and sacrifice!" one cried, spying another body and hurriedly walking toward it, seperating from the group.

Suppose I really don't have anything else to do.

The child approached this man cutting into an already deceased body, picking and choosing from the healthiest looking organs inside. He allowed the pseudo-zombie the first word.

"Aw, cute little kid. Pretty resilient too, without the mask. Tell me, how old are you?"

He did nothing more in reponse than extend both arms, hands outstretched as palms faced the Vahz.

"Ten years old? My my, you're a big boy, aren't you? Tell me where are your par- GAH!"

Literal balls of fire lept from the boy's hand into the Vahzilok's face, singing skin and melting flesh, effectively blinding him for the time being. The child kept it up until the man was smoldering on the pavement.

"And one more bit of scum out of the way."