The man's face was bluish tinted, his skin cold and waxy. What had once been a roughly handsome face was misshapen and bulged wrongly. Both eyes showed signs that they had been swollen shut at one point, and bloodless cuts showed how the brutal impacts upon his face his split the skin and allowed the man's blood to flow.
Inertia Flare reached out one hand and touched the dead man's face, feeling that all warmth was gone from him, that the fire of life had been extinguished. Gone was the hero she had fought next to, gone was the young man whom she had faced the mechanical minions of the madman Lord Nemesis, gone forever was the laughter that had echoed throughout their superbase.
"It's him." She said, and the mortuary worker nodded, pulling the sheet back over the brutalized face. "What killed him?"
"Are you sure you want to know?" The man asked, and Inertia Flare nodded, burning tears glittering in her eyes. The man sighed, they always wanted to know, so they could go out and extract justice in the name of the dead, as if the dead cared about vengeance.
"Internal bleeding, massive organ trauma, brain trauma." He told her. "Repeated blows to the face, back of the head, and torso is what did it."
"Any clue who might have done it?" Inertia Flare asked.
"We found fragments of armor embedded in his knuckles, Longbow took possession of them, but I do have the Longbow report." The official said, taking Inertia Flare's arm and leading her away.
Of course you do. Inertia Flare mused as the official pulled out a few sheets of paper.
She signed when she was asked, and took the paper, looking down at it.
Longbow analysis showed that the armor fragments were consistent with the same composite that Black Scorpian used in his armor, and that the repeated blows that killed her friend were consistent with the type of physical assault Black Scorpion enjoyed.
Cause of Death: Meta-Human Homicide
Of course it was. Inertia Flare mused, reading the paperwork as she left the morgue. She would make arrangements for Hammerhead Harry to be buried in Arlington Cemetery, next to those he had served with.
She crumpled the papers in her hand, brought up the fires of the Phoenix that burned within her, and launched herself into the air.
The fierce freedom of flight brought no joy to her, and despite the day being sunny and warm, there was a chill in the air.
Hammerhead Harry had been murdered in Bloody Bay, his body found bent and broken in a graveyard that had been torn up. Hammerhead Harry, whom Inertia Flare had seen take a tank round to the chest and keep right on going. Hammerhead Harry who was strong enough to knock out a Freakshow Tank with one punch, to shatter a Devouring Earth crystal entity in one blow.
Had been beaten to death by Black Scorpion in Bloody Bay.
Inertia Flare almost believed it, would have believed it, if not for the time of death.
When Hammerhead Harry had been murdered, Inertia Flare, along with Jonny Blaster, the October Octogenerian, the Male Mantid, Miss Moral, Mythus, Global Better, and the undead Zuka had been busy.
Fighting Black Scorpion in an Arachnos Base beneath Sharkhead Isle.
Could it have been Code Vatnya? That massive battlebot of his could have done this, and he's defeated Black Scorpion and even admitted to having adapted the technology for his own use. Inertia Flare wondered as she flew into the traffic tunnel in Atlas and then into the access tunnels.
Could he be so desperate to prove his theory that he would murder Hammerhead Harry to make us all think that Statesman did it? She wondered as she opened the door to the small secret lair she shared with her friends.
Except there was no way for him to know that we would be kicking in Black Scorpions skull that day. There was no way for him to know that I would know where the supervillain who supposedly murdered my friend was when he died. Inertia Flare thought, throwing herself into a chair.
She stared for a long time at the picture of her and her friends, Hammerhead Harry smiling broadly from the picture taken in front of the defeated form of the Clockwork King.
Who should I believe in? A former Soviet Union supervillain who made a bid for the return of the Soviet Union and nearly succeeded? The world's most renown hero who has saved us time and time again? I wouldn't even consider it if Harry hadn't been on that Cimerora beach with us, if I hadn't had seen Black Scorpion go down with my own eyes. Inertia Flare kept staring at the picture.
Ms. Liberty holds Excalibur, yet cannot use it. I have never even seen her touch the hilt. The robot looked like Nemesis work, the evidence all pointed to Nemesis using Freedom Phalanx androids to invade the Rikti Homeworld. But what if it is a lie?
What if our lives are lies?
She sat still enough the supercomputer's motion detectors no longer sensed her, and after awhile the lights turned off.
Inertia Flare sat in the dark, staring at the picture she could no longer see.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
The music was hard and thumping, making the ice in the glass clink in time with it. Heroes and villains alike danced with one another beneath the sweeping and flickering multi-colored lasers. DJ Zero himself floated above the central dais, pantomiming conducting the throngs of dancers below him.
The bartender, a member of the ultra-violent gang The Freakshow during the day, and mixologist at night, noticed the man's glass was nearly empty and swept it aside to replace the fallen soldier with a fresh one.
The man's head lifted from his contemplation of a Cuban cigar held in scarred, gnarled and twisted fingers as he sensed another person settling onto the barstool next to him. The smell of ozone and the faint whisper of static electricity reached him, and he took a deep drag off of the cigar, blowing smoke into the air.
"Do you really believe all that BS you talked about?" The young woman asked. Her hair was blue and covered by the blue beret of UN Forces with the insignia of Vanguard pinned to it. A target reticile concealed on of her electric blue eyes, and she smiled with blue lip gloss covered lips. A pink leather jacket with the sleeves cut away hinted that she wore little, if anything, beneath it, and a short pink skirt with blue lightning on the sides showed quite a bit of leg. A pair of pink boots completed the ensemble, and served to threaten to overwhelm the old man's drink blurred vision.
"Do you think this is the best place to discuss it?" the man asked, setting down the cigar in an ashtray and reaching out to take a sip of his drink. Vodka on the rocks with a twist of lemon. Heresy to most of the people of his homeland, but he liked the taste, and the ice was fun to chew on sometimes.
"Why not? Nobody can hear us over the music, DJ Zero is going to start a wet-costume top contest, so nobody will be paying attention to us." The young woman said, then leaned forward and shivered slightly, letting the ample flesh on display bobble. "Besides, everyone knows my rep here. They'll just figure I've decided to seduce myself an old supervillain so I can drag you to the bathroom and add your notch to my Vanguard gauntlet."
The man laughed, the old deep scars on his face twisting his mouth slightly, and waved at the bartender.
"A drink for my aggressive friend, if you would, comrade." The man said. The Freakshow smiled, his piercings glinting in the light, and poured a Nuclear Meltdown. The young woman was well known, and he silently wished the old man luck in dealing with her.
"So, do you?" The young woman asked, taking a long drink off of her glass.
"That doesn't matter, the question is, do you?" The man asked, turning on his barstool to stare at the young woman. The young woman stared at the scars on his face, the patch covering his left eye for a long moment, then reaches forward and let her fingertip trace the thick scars.
"Where did you get these?" She asked softly.
"A nice subject change, little one." The man chuckled. "Very well, since you carry scars of your own, I will tell you." His voice grew soft. "I was part of the Soviet Unions Meta-Human project. I devised power armor to help reduce the technology gap between the Motherland and Imperialistic America. We had invaded Afghanistan to secure a vital trade route that America was trying to choke us out of, and I was sent with a company of Tundra Thunder power armors to watch them in action.
The man took a deep breath, a drink off of his vodka, and continued, staring at the young woman, but not seeing her. "We did not know at the time that the Freedom Phalanx, at the urging of Statesman, had provided the insurgents with plasma weapons designed by Freedom Phalanx to counter not only our power armor, but our combat helicopters and tanks.
"We walked into an ambush, I had foolishly believed a young woman who claimed that a village, that was pacified and under our control, had come under attack by the insurgents and that dozens of people were injured.
"I was captured after a long battle, me and two others. Ivan and Rolph and I were made to kneel, our hands bound with barbed wire and our helmets removed. A Freedom Phalanx Agent walked down the line, telling the insurgents how we were powerless against the weapons that Freedom Phalanx had provided." He paused for another drink.
"And then?" The young woman asked. She was rubbing the scar on her thigh unconsciously.
"He drew his pistol, walked down the line of the three of us, and shot us each in the face." The man said, his voice weary. "Once he shot us, he kicked us in the chest so that we fell over backwards. Then, convinced we had been dealt with, he and his freedom fighters left. I drifted in and out of consciousness, once waking up as a wild animal gnawed upon the ruin his pistol had left of my face."
"Is that why you hate Freedom Phalanx?" The young woman asked softly, her fingertips moving to the eyepatch. "Why haven't you replaced your eye, everyone says you're a master of cybernetics."
"I don't hate Freedom Phalanx, I suspect them." The man told her, "And I haven't replaced to my eye to remind me to never, ever, be overconfidant again."
"Did you mean what you said?" The young woman asked again, watching as the older man took another drink, puffed on the cigar for a moment, then turned back to her.
"About Statesman? About Freedom Phalanx? About Longbow and the Vindicators?" He asked.
She reached forward and took his hand, placing it upon her thigh. Her skin was warm, and the scar tissue beneath his palm and fingertips thick and smooth.
"No. About this." She said, staring into his single eye. He could feel the electricity thrumming inside of her skin, feel a faint tingling as if his hand was too close to high voltage lines.
"Yes."
"Why? Why should I believe you that you care in the slightest about it? I saw you on that battlefield, as I laid there in the bloody sand covered in the blood and flesh of my friends. Commanding those robots of yours to cut down people I'd gone to school with. I saw you through the explosion as Bobby Pritchard stepped on a plasma mine and vanished in a gout of sand, blood, and vaporized flesh." She said softly. "Why should I believe you care in the slightest about the fact I laid on that beach as the tide came in, as the waves washed over my legs. About how I drug myself up the beach to escape the tide."
"Would you fight to defend Paragon City if Lord Recluse attacked it? Do you fight when Rikti assault troops drop from one of their dropships? Do you fight when the undead burst from the ground?" He asked, reaching over to take another puff off of the cigar as the bartender replaced both drinks with a smile. His hand didn't leave the patch of scar tissue on her leg. "Would you fight if the situations were reversed?"
"Yes." She breathed. "I would have."
"And so did I." The man told her, letting go of her leg to reach up and brush her hair off of her face.
"Do you really believe what you said on that beach?" She asked a third time.
"Yes. Statesman led you like sheep to the slaughter, without warning, without regret, without compassion." The older man said. "Each time young heroes grow strong, a new threat arises that he rallies you all beneath his banner to face, and fall.
"How many are forgotten, their bones bleaching in the sun of the Rikti War Zone, their bodies and deeds as forgotten as their bodies that lay rotting in Recluse's Victory?" The man took another drink, then looked at the young woman, his eye hard and his face set. "Where was Statesman when you lay dying on that beach? Why did it take months for you to be traded back to Paragon City? And where was Statesman as you lay in that hospital for so long?"
"You hate him, don't you?" She whispered.
"No. I do not hate him. He is what he is, just as Stalin and Kruchev were what they were. But I see past his rhetoric, past his carefully cultivated image, to the bloody grinning skull beneath." The man said, shaking his head. "Recluse and Statesman were once best friends, did you know that?"
"No." She took a drink.
"They had a falling out. Each thought that the power they possessed should be used for different reasons." The man laughed. "They had a falling out over to wield their power, not over a woman, but over power. Doesn't that tell you something?"
"That they both could probably benefit from 10 minutes in the broom closet with a Carnie girl." The girl giggled.
The man laughed too, and it took them both several minutes to stop laughing.
"Do you really think we'll go to war with Praetorian Earth?" She asked, once the laughter had stopped.
"Not we, but all of those who listen to Statesman. All who rally to his banner again to face a threat that may only be a threat because of him." The man said. "I found that recording over a year ago, but so far, only a handful know about Praetoria, and even fewer know that despite Tyrant's supposed evil, the place appears to be a paradise."
"But at what cost? What if he is a tyrant, what if it is only that way because he has stifled all dissadent, what if it is because nobody dares speak out?" She asked.
"But do we know that? No, we only know what Statesman and the Portal Corporation have told us." The man snorted. "I, for one, no longer trust what any of them, Freedom Phalanx, Vindicator, Vanguard, or Arachnos, has to say."
"I'm thinking of quitting Vanguard." The girl blurted.
"Indeed?" The man raised the eyebrow above his eyepatch.
"I found an android of Manticore and reported it, and a big deal was made out of it. Footage was broadcast and everything." She said.
"I remember."
"But the footage shown wasn't of the room I found, wasn't of the android I found. And I asked around." She reached over, grabbed her glass, and drank the rest in one snap. "I wasn't the only one to find a Manticore android. Or to find Nemesis' plans."
"And what does that tell you?"
"That so many of us found the same thing, at different times, in different places, that it was too much. Nobody makes the same planning room fifty times, nobody leaves behind the same android with different damage fifty times." She looked around, then leaned forward to kiss his neck.
"It's a hoax." She breathed into his ear. "And I want to know why."
"That's an interesting suggestion, you realize I'm old enough to be your father." The man said loudly, standing up and pulling a hundred dollar bill from the pocket of his DCU pants and tossing it on the bar.
"So how does a supervillain live?" She laughed, standing up and making a faux-curtsey.
"Would you like to see? A visit to the lair of the Sinister Code Vatnya?" The man laughed.
"Oooh, that sounds like fun." She put on a pleading face. "Please, Mr. Supervillain, I am helpless before you, spare me and my virtue."
"Tachyon Hammer, prisoner of a Supervillain." The man laughed.
Both continued to laugh as they left Pocket-D, his arm around her, her arm around him, both staggering as if they had drank a bit too much.
Those who watched them leave saw only an older man seduced by a younger woman with a reputation for thrill seeking. Some shook their heads at how even a powerful supervillain could be addled by a pretty young woman, while others privately laughed at the thought of Tachyon Hammer adding another notch to her bedpost.
The next day Tachyon Hammer turned in her resignation to Vanguard, citing 'hostile workplace' to the debriefing officer.
When she returned to the hideout of her friends and supergroup comrades, she found Inertia Flare sitting in the dark, and hearing the story of the death of Hammerhead Harry, came up with nothing but more questions with the fact that the day Hammerhead Harry had been murdered, she could account for Code Vatnya's whereabouts the whole time.
To the young girl, the world looked darker.
To the old man, the storm clouds were drawing closer.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
Betty's rocket boots flared as she pulled up, rolling in mid-air and landing perfectly on the cement slab that was being used as a dock. Smiling at the warm day she looked around, taking in the cloudless blue sky, the damaged dam that she could barely see made her smile, and the stacks of metal cargo vans that the construction companies were using to bring in repair supplies.
At the far edge of her normal vision she saw figures moving around, and curious she lifted her rifle to her shoulder, looking through the scope to get a better look at the figures. The scope whirred and clicked almost silently as it automatically adjusted focus to bring the small group to Betty's vision.
Three black clad Arachnos soldiers stood next to the purple uniformed figure of a Night Widow. They were lined up behind her, one eating a donut, one drinking tea, one writing on a clipboard.
Hellooooo, paychecks. Betty grinned to herself, pulling the rifle tighter to her shoulder. She waited for her heart to slow, and exhaled fully. In between her heartbeats, she gently pulled back the trigger until the weapon fired.
The .50 caliber depleted uranium sabot dart punched through the ear of the Night Widow's helmet, the cavitation effect liquifying the woman's brains, hydrostatic shot blowing her eyes from her skull. The bullet exited the helmet in a spray of blood and chunks of brain matter to shatter the tea cup and blow away three fingers of the next me and punched through the donut to pass through the head of the next Arachnos soldier. The final target had no idea that the bullet had just blown a hole as a big a fist through his clipboard, and a matching hole through his helmet and head.
Smiling, Global Betty lowered the rifle, knowing she'd be able to collect a nice fat bounty from Longbow for that single shot. Enough money to pay for the bullet she'd used at least.
Whistling, she ducked around behind containers and entered a gap in the wall. The crack in the earth led into a small space with flickering neon lights, two pool tables, a rack of alcohol bottles, a pinball game, and a set of androids standing perfectly still.
Illuminated by the pinkish light was the large form of the nigh-indestructible insect The Male Mantid, who sat silently taking drinks off of a bottle of alcohol. Behind him the neon sign proclaimed the hidden room to be "Club Cryptic."
"Why so glum, big glum bug?" Betty asked, reaching out to snag a bottle as she moved into the room. The Male Mantid looked up and shrugged.
"I went to visit Firepunch today." He said, taking out a cigar and lighting it.
"Really? That's nice. How did it go?" Betty's voice was disinterested. She hadn't really like the flame powered mercenary.
"It didn't. He doesn't live in the apartment any more." The Male Mantid replied.
"huh."
"I checked with his maternal parental unit, and she has not seen him in months. She worries about her grub."
"OK." Better took a long pull off the bottle, and looked around at the club. The video games and pinball machines sat untouched, the androids covered with dust just like the countertops, alcohol bottles, and pool tables. As close as Betty could tell, nobody had been in the hidden spot in weeks, maybe months.
"He is nowhere to be found." The Male Mantid paused for a long moment. "Bounty hunters keep tabs on where those so-called Meta-Humans are, right?"
Male Mantid's question yanked Betty back from contemplating the thick cobwebs gathered beneath the pool table. She stared at him for a second while his question moved through her brain and finally registered.
"Oh, yeah, we do. Do you want me to look him up?" She asked, flexing her wrist so the cover to her data-terminal, a modified PPD police radio, popped up to reveal the keyboard.
"Yes, please."
Betty shrugged and punched in a search for Firepunch, waiting for the search to complete. Several heroes had used that name in the last decade, but Global Betty remembered what the mercenary had looked like. She read the file real quick.
"He's dead." Betty said, moving over to hop up on the pool table next to the massive form of the insect. "According to this he died pretty well, saving a kidnap victim from the Circle of Thorns."
"Mmmm hmmmm. OK, how about looking up Freezer Burn?"
Betty took a moment. "Killed on the assault of Rogue Isles, she hit a bouncing betty."
"Radiation Boy?"
"Killed by a Nemesis ambush on Peregrine Island."
"Yellowtail?"
"Shanked by some spine wielding serial killer in Bloody Bay."
"Of course." The Male Mantid shook his head.
"Look, Big Bug, there are old heroes, there are bold heroes, and with quite a narrow number of exceptions, there are basically no old, bold heroes." Betty grinned, shutting down her bounty terminal.
"Remember when this place was full of heroes. When we made our plots, planned missions, and dreamed of cleaning up Paragon City?" The Male Mantid asked, waving at the dusty abandoned bar.
"Yeah, so? I remember when beneath that huge statue of the human's *** by where Ms. Liberty hangs out there used to be scores of heroes gathered together to talk and socialize." Betty said. "Big deal."
"It's just..." Male Mantid said.
"You're thinking about the words of that mad Russian, aren't you?" Betty asked.
"I can't help it. I find myself looking back over everything we've ever done, at all the lives I've seen snuffed out, and wondering just what we accomplished."
"He's a villain, Big Bug, don't believe him." Betty leaned over and rested her head against his shoulder.
"I don't, but I question now. Where my life was so full of purity of purpose and clarity of thought, now I find myself wondering about everything." Male Mantid replied. "What if Statesman does as Code Vatnya suggests, and begins gathering support for an invasion of Praetoria?"
"What if monkeys fly out of War Witch's butt? Who cares?"
"And if Statesman puts a price on Tyrant's head, will you take it?"
"Yup, bring it back with a hole through it." Betty laughed, rubbing her rifle.
"And if Tyrant offered you a price on Statesman's head?" Mantid asked.
"I'll try to figure out how to collect on both, other I'll just collect the better price."
"I'll keep that in mind." Mantid told her, feeling the warmth of the bounty hunter's mammal body against his insectile armor as he took another long drink off of the whiskey bottle.
"Don't worry, Big Bug, there's isn't a big enough bounty for me to collect on you." She said.
Yet. went unstated between them.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
Bloody Bay is never silent. There is always the scream of energy weapons, the stattaco report of gunfire, the freeeem of meta-human powers, and the buzzing of flies around corpses all combine to make a steady background drone that slowly wears on the nerves. The rumble of man-made thunder rolls across the landscape as combatants use heavy weapons on one another, and every once in a while the human-ish scream that signified the endoskeleton of a robot giving way sounded out.
Sinister Vanadium sat on a low wall, looking out at the graveyard that surrounded him. What had once been a place of rest had been repeatedly looted and desecrated over the years, as well as having been the site of battles that the combatants cared nothing for those buried in love. Gravestones had been shattered until only shards poked up from the earth. Crypts and mausoleums lay shattered into flinders. Grave dirt had been disturbed where either someone dug up the grave to get at the body interred there, or the body had clawed its way free to the surface. A few beer bottles littered the area around him, and he swayed slightly as he reached forward one armor wrapped hand to pull another bottle from the case of Ghost Widow Pale Ale from the box. A gentle twist with two fingers and then a snap sent a bottlecap flying across the graveyard to bounce off the forehead of Dry Husk digging at an old grave. The Storm Shaman in charge of the animated corpse glared at Sinister Vanadium, but was unwilling to take on the man who wore such battered and menacing red armor, whether or not he was wearing his helmet. Add in the fact that the man was obvious half-drunk and glaring around the cemetery with bloodshot eyes just added to the Storm Shaman's decision that discretion was the better part of valor.
From the cacophony of battle sounds came the sound of jet boots, announcing Jonny Blaster just mere moments before the hero cut off the boots, did a somersault and landed on the torn up ground as if he was competing in the Olympics. The hero was holding a box of donuts that he opened up, showing freshly baked bear claws, the frosting still warm and gooey.
"Ta-dah! Check it out, fresh donuts!" Jonny grinned, bowing low over the box. Vanadium just grunted, took another swig of his beer, and scowled at the grinning hero.
"Come on, Vanadium, I thought we were going to spar like we do every Sunday. What's the problem?" Jonny asked, looking around the graveyard. "Is it them? If so, we can beat them up and send them packing." The hero pointed at the Storm Shaman, who decided that whatever was about to go down, he wanted no part of it. The Shaman made himself scarce, and Jonny laughed.
"Oh come on, don't be such a grump." Jonny said, sitting down on the wall next to Sinister Vanadium and grabbing a beer. He twisted off the top and threw it into the dirt, then took a long drink. "What's eating you, aside from a bad case of VD?"
"Shut up." Vanadium growled, throwing the beer bottle against a tree trunk hard enough to shatter it.
"Don't tell me you're all upset over what paranoid Ol' Code had to say. He's a nut-case." Jonny told the closest thing he had to friend.
"Not upset, just... angry." Vanadium admitted.
"Why? Who cares if States is really a villain? For all we know, Nemesis is just States in an ugly suit." Jonny laughed, taking another swig and then belching long and loudly. "Why should it matter to you?"
"Jonny, you know me. We've fought each other so often we know virtually everything about one another. You now me, I've fought against The Man my whole life. In Moscow, as I grew up, I fought the cops and the GRU. When I came to America, I fought your government, your military. I fought Longbow, the Rikti, and when the Rogue Isles blossomed, I fought the authorities there." Vanadium rumbled, plucking another beer out of the case and opening it.
"Yeah, well, so?" Jonny asked, snagging a bear claw and taking a bite out of it. He gave a sigh full of satisfaction and closed his eyes.
"Now I find that I may have been fighting for The Man my entire life. That all of my effort to smash the State, smash the system, free the masses from the chains that bound them, only served to tighten the chains tighter, only served to choke off what I tried to bring out." Vanadium muttered, staring at the top of the beer.
"Jeez, big guy, lighten up."
"Seriously, Jonny. You have fought the good fight, in your eyes, but have you really? You worked for a company that produced Superdyne. Don't you find it strange that a drug that hard to make is so prevelant? And Countess Crey, she escapes justice in the both the Rogue Isles and in your oh so precious United States." Vanadium sneered.
"Hey, just have another beer, eat a bear claw, and we'll go shoot at those loincloth wearing pansies." Jonny grinned, popping the last bite of the pastry into his mouth.
"No. My love of combat, of pitting myself against a foe, has turned to ashes." Vanadium said. Jonny turned and looked at the other man, taking in the swirling gang tattoos that decorated the villain's dark skin and the sweat on his shaved head.
"Hey, speaking of ashes, did you hear?" Jonny's tone suddenly turned serious, a startling enough thing that it snapped Vanadium out of his funk.
"What?" The villain asked, wondering what could temporary still Laughing Gentleman Jonny Blaster's mirth.
"Black Scorpion killed Hammerhead Harry. Inertia Flare told me." Jonny said. "The coroner said he was killed two days ago, about noon."
The day after we meet with Code Vatnya the Mad, he ends up dead? At the hands of someone who was in ICU in Grandville by six in the morning that day? Vanadium mused.
"Is that so?" He asked, letting no trace of his doubt show.
"Yeah. He must have had a mad-on about the butt whupping we'd handed him earlier that day and taken it out on ol' Hammerhead." Jonny shook his head. "The funeral is tomorrow, and I'd like it if you went with me."
"I'll go. Harry wasn't that bad of a guy, and he and I should have buried the hatchet over Miranda years ago." Vanadium said softly. "After the Circle of Thorns sacrificed her, we should have made peace with each other."
"Yeah. That was pretty bad. Did you ever figure out who dimed her out to the See Oh Tea?"
"I always assumed that Harry would check. I didn't dare let anyone know that my sister was Miss Megaton. Recluse probably would have been a bit upset with me to find out that the woman beat Ghost Widow up that bad was my sister." Vanadium grinned. "She always talks about how the dead cannot change, but she sported that swollen and black eye for almost a week."
Jonny laughed at the memory of the cellphone picture Vanadium had shown him after one of their weekend sparring matches. Ghost Widow's normally flawless cheek had been marred by a set of knuckle bruises and the eye had been completely swollen shut, pulling her face slightly out of true.
"Think it was ol' Spider-back?" Jonny asked.
"No. He would have taunted me about it. Sent me video of the way the Circle of Thorns made her suffer before they cut out her heart. I always figured that the report that she just had the bad luck to be walking home from the store and ran into a See Oh Tea press gang to be true." Vanadium said, suddenly sobering at the mental image of his sister screaming and begging as the knife came down into her bare chest, slicing through the skin, breaking the ribs, and tearing a gaping hole in her flesh that a fanatic shoved his hands into to pull her still beating heart from her chest.
"Harry said he was coming here to talk to you, that you'd left a message saying you'd found something out about Miranda." Jonny blurted out, and cringed inside, waiting for the sudden, violent explosion.
"I hadn't. Instead I'd gotten a message that he wanted to talk to me, and to meet him in Boomtown, but I didn't trust him, so I went out and got drunk in Port Oakes with Mongoose instead." Vanadium admitted.
"Think whoever killed him sent him that message?" Jonny asked.
"I'd say that's a safe bet." Vanadium rumbled, grinning at the other man.
"Think we should check it out?" Jonny asked.
"Yeah, I think we should." Vanadium said, scooping the last beer out of the case. "When we're done with our mission here."
The Storm Shaman peeked around the corner of the wall, wondering if the two powerful warriors were gone, and staggered backwards as a bottle slammed into his forehead, nearly knocking him unconscious.
"You check Paragon City, Jonny, I'll check the Rogue Isles." Vanadium said, picking up his helmet.
"Where do you want me to start?" Jonny asked.
"You start in Talos Island, check that laundrymat where she kept her old costume." Vanadium said, buckling down his helmet and running a systems check.
"What are you going to do?" Jonny asked, warming up his rocket boots.
"I'm going to Ouroboros, and I'll beat the use of the crystal out of Twilight's Son if I have to. I want to see what happened myself." Vanadium growled.
"Hey, Van..." Jonny said suddenly.
"Yeah?"
"Be careful, man. I got a bad feeling."
"Me too, Jon, me too."
The pair left the graveyard, heading in different directions, leaving behind the dead and those who commanded them.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
I'm liking this a lot. More please 
[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: STOP!
[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: WAIT ONE SECOND!
[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: WHAT IS A SEAGULL DOING ON MY THRONE!?!?
The supercomputer worked silently, unlike the old movies there were no flashing lights, whirring tapes, or any clicking. Microtronics, magnetic ferrofluidic storage, near-solid appearing holographic displays, all worked perfectly according to their instructions.
So why do I feel like taking my mace to it? Inertia Flare wondered, staring at the legend "NO DATA FOUND" that floated silently. She'd done every type of search she could, tapping into the Russian databanks, INTERPOL, the CIA, the Department of Defense, MI-5, everyone she could, and still there was no data, almost as if the subject of her search did not, nor did he ever, exist at all.
But I stood there and listened to him talk, I've fought his robotic minions, and he once put a force rifle blast right into the back of my head. She felt the fire that consumed her nearly at all times threatening to explode as a sign of her annoyance, and took a couple of calming breaths to stabilize herself.
"Well?" The voice came from behind her, and she almost screamed. She had thought she was alone in the base.
"Damn it, Betty, don't do that!" Inertia yelled, turning around and facing the violet skinned alien bounty hunter.
"Do what?" The other woman asked, smiling with a mouthful of sharp teeth.
"Nothing. Did you find anything out?" Inertia asked.
"Some. Almost everyone is terrified of talking about him, but I managed to lay my hands on some information." Betty said, sitting down at the other chair.
"Well, what did you find out?" Inertia Flare asked, struggling to keep her frustration from her fruitless search spilling over into irritation for the other woman.
"Not much." Betty looked sad for a moment, then suddenly smiled. "Actually, I got luckier looking through old library archives." She handed over a photocopy of an old newspaper article.
Inertia Flare scanned the article quickly, then noticed the date.
"Nineteen Sixty Three? You have to be kidding, he was what, 20 then?" Inertia asked.
"Yup. I asked Ms. Liberty about it, and I thought she was going to order Longbow to exterminate me." Betty said. "But I was close enough to get a good look at her face, she's got an old puckered scar at the corner of her mask."
"A scar?"
"Yup. I looked up a few things, and found out that the scar is the crest that is normally on a Spetsnaz officer's ring." Betty grinned. "Class of 1967, according to the faint scar, and I did some more checking, and found out something interesting."
"What's that?"
"In 1985 a Colonel Mikhael Lavonavitch was killed in action in Afghanistan, but then in 1995 the same man was released from a Siberian gulag and promptly vanished." Betty smiled, tossing a USB drive on the counter. "Colonel Lavonavitch was apparently the brains behind the old Soviet Union's power armor and cybernetics programs from 1975 to 1985, and apparently took part in some nasty covert actions during that time."
"Then how do you explain this?" Inertia waved the photocopy in front of Betty's nose.
"Easy, fire-butt. I went to Ouroboros and asked Mender Tesseract if Code Vatnya had ever used her services." Betty grinned. "And apparently about six months ago he did, and came back pretty beat up. He went with a few others, all of whom are dead now, by the way.
"But, I scored. Blue Bison's wife still had his old armor in the garage, and she let me check it out, and apparently the combat logs were never deleted off of the armor. I got a good video off of the logs."
Inertia Flare raised one eyebrow and motioned for Betty to continue.
"Apparently Code Vatnya went back to when ol' Spider-Back took over the Rogue Isles. Now, others have done this, usually to ensure Recluse gets the islands, but apparently our favorite robot-fetishist had different plans. He'd apparently bragged to a Longbow spy that he was going back in time and kicking Miss Liberty's skull in, going so far as to tell the guy when and where it was going to be."
"And little Ms. Liberty ran to save her mother." Inertia guessed.
"You got it. She showed up, thinking she could take out Vatnya by herself."
"And got stomped." Inertia Flare plugged the USB drive in to the supercomputer's data port.
"More than that. Apparently, once Ms. Liberty went down, the rest of the group continued on, and ol' Code Vatnya took the time to kick the crap out of her. Broke a bunch of ribs, knocked out some of her teeth, then, to add insult to injury, heated up his Russian Special Forces ring and branded her right next to the eye he's missing." Betty shook her head. "The hospital reports showed that Miss Liberty and her daughter barely survived. Vatnya went after them with everything he had, more than he's ever gone after us with. He didn't even use his bots, and the way he acted got him thrown out of The Black Adder Society, apparently the other members were sickened by the fact he used his ring to brand a young woman's face."
"By the Gods." Inertia breathed, looking at the photos of Miss Liberty and Ms. Liberty taken by the Paragon Police Department. "That's... that's personal. Look at them, it takes a lot of rage to do that."
"Yeah. Apparently at the end he had that big assault robot of his hold Ms. Liberty while he went to work on her with his bare hands. If the rest of the Black Adder Society hadn't come back to see what was taking him so long, they'd probably both be dead. According to Blue Bison's combat logs, when they showed up, Vatnya had a knife out and was saying something to Ms. Liberty and making sure she could see the knife." Betty said.
"He's never acted like that with anyone else, as far as I know." Inertia Flare said, staring at the picture of Miss Liberty lying in a hospital bed in Atlas Park. "This goes beyond sociopathy or a psychopath, this is... this is seriously disturbed."
"I saw him take down Positron, and he did the same thing, beat the poor guy nearly to death, and if me and Big Bug hadn't been there, there's a good chance that Vatnya would have killed ol' Posi. But when he took down Synapse and Mynx a couple months ago, he just beat them up, robbed the bank, and left. But not Positron, he worked ol' Posi over bad enough that instead of protecting the Faultline Dam, he had to send a task force out to do it." Betty played with the scope of her rifle for a moment. "But a few days later I was cashing a check from Longbow at the Peregrine Island First National when Code Vatnya walked in with his robots and a gun and held the place up. I fought him, he just knocked me stupid, he apologizes with that Russian accent of his to the other customers, has his bots rip open the vault, and started to leave. Longbow shows up, he fights them, and after they are all down and wounded, he walks to each one with his pulse rifle and puts a round in the back of their heads."
"Oh man. That's never good."
"And it gets better." Betty smiled, leaning back in the chair.
"You're kidding." Inertia Flare said.
"Two months ago, Longbow and Vanguard both listed Code Vatnya as dead. Coyote kept sending heroes to check out old bases of Code Vatnya, and found nothing but old robots, trophies, clockwork, Devouring Earth, you know, the kind of crap you find in an abandoned base." Betty said.
"And?"
"Well, several bases had what those heroes thought were Code Vatnya hiding in the shadows, but every time it turned out to be an android." Betty said. "Apparently Code Vatnya was taking a page from Nemesis and sprinkling androids of himself around."
"So you think that the Code Vatnya we spoke to is an android?" Inertia Flare asked.
"Yup. The people I leaned on were pretty sure that Ol' Code 'I love robots' Vatnya is dead." Betty smiled.
"They're wrong." Inertia Flare grunted, leaning back and folding her arms.
"Everyone is pretty sure." Betty insisted.
"They're wrong."
"How do you know?" Betty asked, looking faintly angry. She was a bounty hunter, one of the best in the Galaxy, she knew how to gather information.
"Tachyon Hammer told me he's a living man." Inertia Flare said.
Betty paled.
"Yeah. She checked pretty thoroughly." Inertia said.
"I take it that it was an 'in depth' examination?" Betty said, looking troubled.
"Yup. Can't get much more 'in-depth' that what Tach was bragging about."
"There's more, isn't there?" Betty asked.
"Laughing Gentleman Jonny Blaster isn't answering his com-link." Inertia asked. "He went to do the weekly thing he and Sinister Vanadium do, and hasn't reported back in."
"Maybe they finally got a hotel room." Betty grinned nastily.
"Except Vanadium showed up at Ouroboros, holding Twilight's Son by the tail, and left via one of those stones after slamming the squiddie against the wall a few times." Inertia told her.
"Oh, come on. Nobody is going to kill him. You've seen the evidence, Vantya hates Longbow and Ms. Liberty, his whole speech is nothing more than an attempt to discredit them." Betty said. "Don't be so gullible."
"Yeah, gullible." Inertia whispered, staring at the pictures of Ms. Liberty and her mother.
Have you gone that mad, Vatnya, to do horror to prove your theory? Inertia silently asked. Or are your paranoid delusions real, and the real horror?
Inertia Flare knew that finding out the answer was not going to be easy.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
Jonny laughed as he ducked underneath the rusted and nicked machete that Forlorn Waif held in her two hands, the dull blade whipping just centimeters over his head. Before the villainess could recover, Jonny struck out, knocking her feet out from under her and sending her rolling backwards.
Around them troops of the Fifth Column groaned or cried out for a medic. Jonny had broken into the warehouse looking for the crates of Miranda's stuff that had been shipped there by Longbow, only to find the fascists of the Fifth Column digging through everything. Jonny had kept up a hit and run battle until the last of the fascists had fallen, and gone looking for the crates he was after.
However, he hadn't expected to run into Forlorn Waif, undead killing machine, rooting through a crate of Countess Crey Fruit Pies and stuffing them into her mouth like a zombie at an all the flesh you can eat buffet.
Both combatants came to their feet, and Jonny laughed again at Forlon Waif's face. Her dead expressionless face lost quite a bit of fearsomeness when it was smeared with blueberry, strawberry, and lemon filling with a bit of pie crust on the tip of her nose.
"Give it up, Waif, you're outmatched!" Jonny yelled, throwing a powerbolt out to either knock her off of her feet or force her to dodge it. To Jonny's surprise she reacted by leaping on top of the crate next to the one she had been rummaging through and grabbing another pie.
"Seriously? Now?" Jonny asked the undead sword mistress. Forlorn Waif growled at him, tore the wrapper open with her gray teeth, and began stuffing the Fruit Pie into her mouth.
"You have to be kidding me." Jonny grumbled, firing a bolt of energy at the undead woman. She ducked to the side, shoved the rest of the pie in her mouth, and came at Jonny with a flurry of blows he was forced to wrap his fists in energy to block.
Jonny stepped back, trying to get some distance between himself and the dead woman, but his heel came down on a Countess Crey Cherry Fruit Pie wrapper and his foot went out from under him. Jonny tried to recover, but fell over backwards and onto his back. His head bounced off the pavement and everything went double.
Jonny stared at Forlorn Waif, who's face remained expressionless as she launched herself in the air, her nicked and rusted blade pulled back. He couldn't dodge it, couldn't roll, hell, he could barely breathe much less stop the dead woman from cutting his head right down the middle.
Gunfire erupted, and Forlorn Waif's arm came off at the elbow, black clotted blood spraying from the stump as the bullets tore off the woman's arm. Another burst fired at the same time hit her in the face, the bullets exploding the exposed checkbone and her ruined eye vanishing in a welter of black gore.
Forlorn Waif hit the ground, going to one knee, and she stared past Jonny, toward the entrance of the warehouse. Without a sound or change of expression, the dead woman whirled around, running deeper in the warehouse. Jonny could have sworn she grabbed another Fruit Pie as she vanished into the gloom.
Gunfire and tracers chased her, but she vanished as silently as she had fought. The only sound Jonny had heard her make was to growl as she shoved pies into her mouth.
"Gather up these criminals and line them up on their knees." A voice rang out. Bootsteps thudded around him as he rolled over on his side, his blurred vision making him see what looked like scores of men and women clad in the red and blue of Longbow officers. They kept bending over the downed Fifth Column goons, handcuffing them and dragging them over into a line.
Groaning, Jonny pushed himself up, his groan turning to pained laughter as he recalled Forlorn Waif's face smeared with pie filling. Looking up, he saw a Longbow officer, distinctive by his headgear and cape, walking toward him, a rifle in his hands and another officer walking slightly behind him.
"Thanks for the save, officer. She almost had me." Jonny said, standing up slightly unsteadily. The world swam, and his vision went gray for a moment.
"Jonny Blaster?" The officer asked. Jonny could see a Longbow officer with a Rikti plasma rifle standing behind the last arrested Fifth Column goon.
"At your service, officers. Always happy to work with Longbow." Jonny grinned. There was the sound of a Rikti plasma rifle firing, but Jonny couldn't remember why it was so important.
Before Jonny knew what was going on, the officer dropped down, sweeping his leg out and taking Jonny's feet out from under him. Jonny hit the ground again, his sore head hitting a crate on the way down. Jonny was aware of a foot stomping down on his wrist, shattering his MedCom Teleporter, and he cried out as the bones in his wrist shattered. A boot slammed into his temple and the world went gray and a rushing noise filled his ears, interspersed with the sound of a Rikti plasma rifle firing again and again as boots kept thudding against Jonny's head, back, sides, and chest.
A hand grabbed his collar, dragging him to his knees. The gloved hand knocked his purple Vanguard beret away, the golden crest on it glinting in the light, and then the hand wrapped itself painfully in his hair and pulled him up to his knees, pulling his head back.
Through teary eyes he saw the Longbow officer that had kicked his feet out held an ugly black force rifle in his hands, staring down at Jonny with an evil grin.
A Soviet Pulse Rifle? Jonny wondered, the image blurring.
Screams sounded from further in the warehouse. They meant something, but Jonny couldn't seem to grasp what.
The rifle was lifted up, and the muzzle pressed against his cheek.
"Check him, make sure it is him." The officer ordered.
More screams came to Jonny's ears. Why were they important?
The second Longbow officer pulled a scanner from his belt and passed it over Jonny's face, stepping back as it beeped and chuckled to itself.
Someone screamed, a long one, full of pain and horror, that trailed off into a gurgling moan.
Fruit pies...
"It's him, sir. Laughing Gentleman Jonny Blaster." The officer reported.
"The late Jonny Blaster." The first officer corrected.
Jonny saw a shadow fall from the rafters, a blood soaked rusted blade glinting in the light, gobbets of flesh and gore stuck in the nicks of the blade. The face behind the blade was expressionless, lips a pale blue, skin waxy, one side of the face bone splinters and black ichor. The sword was held in one hand, the other arm missing at the elbow.
The barrel of the rifle flashed, and Jonny heard a rushing sound as his body suddenly went warm and tingly.
* * * * *
Nemesis held Him by His hair, and He was barely managing to mumble 'help me' through a mouthful of blood. The Male Mantid and Inertia Flare tried to push their way through the force field of the mad master of steam, yelling at Him to hold on.
Our Father...
Bombs rained from the sky as the Rikti dropship made another pass over the streets of Atlas Park. One hit near a group of costumed kids fighting a Rikti Soldier and all of them vanished in a gout of plasma. A carefully aimed force bolt hit one of the troops dropping from the sky, blowing a hole as big as a can of soda in its chest. He kept firing into the press of alien invaders dropping from the sky as He laughed.
He was still laughing as he watched the bomb drop down toward Him.
...extend Uriel's fiery swift sword...
The War Wolf screamed as the punch took it full in the face, its muzzle cracking and its neck whipping around with a crack as the Male Mantid's punch landed. He fired a bolt past the huge insect warrior, the blast taking a Vampyr in the chest and causing it to explode from within.
Before He could react, a giant furry paw wrapped around His neck and began to squeeze, and He could feel his eyes bug out.
...to this man...
The Clockwork King's psychic scream battered at His mind, but He gritted his teeth around His laughter and fired a bolt of energy straight into the glass bubble that held the floating brain and eyes.
He was getting ready to fire another bolt into the crack that had appeared in the Clockwork King's protective casing when a badly damaged oscillator reared up, blades whirling, and leaned forward, the blades slicing through body armor to chop into His spine and ribs.
...who is what I...
The beach was cold, and gulls cried from up above. The air was cold and damp, and behind Him toga clad men and women went about their daily work. In front of Him, clad in red and yellow armor with the hammer and sickle of Soviet Russia on the chest, Code Vatnya was talking.
...once was...
His energy bolt hit Black Scorpion in the chest, lifting the arch-villain up and throwing him into the wall. Before Black Scorpion could do more than yell in rage, Inertia Flare was there, her mace arcing up in a swing she had started near the floor, the head of the mace hitting Black Scorpion in the chin and crushing his jaw in a spray of blood and teeth with a crunching sound He could hear over the fire of Arachnos rifles.
The mace beam volley hit Him in the chest, knocking Him down, spreading fire across his chest.
...grant him vengeance...
His face hurt, and He looked in the mirror, recoiling when a bloody destroyed wreck stared back at him. He could see the shattered bones of his skull, and the burnt and tattered flesh surrounding the wound.
He threw back his head and screamed.
...in your infinite wisdom...
He felt his neckbones crack as Silver Mantis' foot arced up and impacted on his chin, her venomous spines tearing open the skin. One of his teeth flew free in a fine spray of blood. The Male Mantid was down, convulsing from the arch-villain's venoms, and Inertia Flare was being hammered on by Arachnos goons. Global Betty lay where she had fallen, the knife she had been using to cut away restraints still in her limp hand, ambushed and poisoned by Silver Mantis.
She had left herself exposed, and He buried his fist deep into her stomach, and Silver Mantis vomited dark red blood into His face in shocking suddeness.
The poison coursed through his veins as they both sat down, facing each other.
He slowly looked to his right, staring at the frightened looking child He had come to save.
"Go home, little one, I'm going to talk to the bad lady." He managed to smile.
...Oh Angry and Vengeful Lord God...
Light. Pulsing, painful, bright light. He felt himself floating toward it, and could feel pins and needles fill His body with silent agony.
...Amen...
Jonny rolled over, vomiting up seawater, blood, and the bear claws and beers he had shared with Vanadium a lifetime ago. Long moments passed as his stomach threw up every bit of content it contained.
...it will pass...
The voice was slow, melodious, and infinitely sad.
Jonny turned to look at the person he sensed next to him.
...Fruit pie?...
Forlorn Waif held a Countess Crey Fruit Pie out toward The Late Gentleman Jonny Blaster.
Jonny felt a hunger erupt in his stomach, and he reached out one pale hand, the black twisted veins prominent under his waxy skin, blue fingernails ragged and torn, and his wrist slightly twisted.
...It's cherry...
Nemesis held Him by His hair, and He was barely managing to mumble 'help me' through a mouthful of blood. The Male Mantid and Inertia Flare tried to push their way through the force field of the mad master of steam, yelling at Him to hold on.
Our Father...
Bombs rained from the sky as the Rikti dropship made another pass over the streets of Atlas Park. One hit near a group of costumed kids fighting a Rikti Soldier and all of them vanished in a gout of plasma. A carefully aimed force bolt hit one of the troops dropping from the sky, blowing a hole as big as a can of soda in its chest. He kept firing into the press of alien invaders dropping from the sky as He laughed.
He was still laughing as he watched the bomb drop down toward Him.
...extend Uriel's fiery swift sword...
The War Wolf screamed as the punch took it full in the face, its muzzle cracking and its neck whipping around with a crack as the Male Mantid's punch landed. He fired a bolt past the huge insect warrior, the blast taking a Vampyr in the chest and causing it to explode from within.
Before He could react, a giant furry paw wrapped around His neck and began to squeeze, and He could feel his eyes bug out.
...to this man...
The Clockwork King's psychic scream battered at His mind, but He gritted his teeth around His laughter and fired a bolt of energy straight into the glass bubble that held the floating brain and eyes.
He was getting ready to fire another bolt into the crack that had appeared in the Clockwork King's protective casing when a badly damaged oscillator reared up, blades whirling, and leaned forward, the blades slicing through body armor to chop into His spine and ribs.
...who is what I...
The beach was cold, and gulls cried from up above. The air was cold and damp, and behind Him toga clad men and women went about their daily work. In front of Him, clad in red and yellow armor with the hammer and sickle of Soviet Russia on the chest, Code Vatnya was talking.
...once was...
His energy bolt hit Black Scorpion in the chest, lifting the arch-villain up and throwing him into the wall. Before Black Scorpion could do more than yell in rage, Inertia Flare was there, her mace arcing up in a swing she had started near the floor, the head of the mace hitting Black Scorpion in the chin and crushing his jaw in a spray of blood and teeth with a crunching sound He could hear over the fire of Arachnos rifles.
The mace beam volley hit Him in the chest, knocking Him down, spreading fire across his chest.
...grant him vengeance...
His face hurt, and He looked in the mirror, recoiling when a bloody destroyed wreck stared back at him. He could see the shattered bones of his skull, and the burnt and tattered flesh surrounding the wound.
He threw back his head and screamed.
...in your infinite wisdom...
He felt his neckbones crack as Silver Mantis' foot arced up and impacted on his chin, her venomous spines tearing open the skin. One of his teeth flew free in a fine spray of blood. The Male Mantid was down, convulsing from the arch-villain's venoms, and Inertia Flare was being hammered on by Arachnos goons. Global Betty lay where she had fallen, the knife she had been using to cut away restraints still in her limp hand, ambushed and poisoned by Silver Mantis.
She had left herself exposed, and He buried his fist deep into her stomach, and Silver Mantis vomited dark red blood into His face in shocking suddeness.
The poison coursed through his veins as they both sat down, facing each other.
He slowly looked to his right, staring at the frightened looking child He had come to save.
"Go home, little one, I'm going to talk to the bad lady." He managed to smile.
...Oh Angry and Vengeful Lord God...
Light. Pulsing, painful, bright light. He felt himself floating toward it, and could feel pins and needles fill His body with silent agony.
...Amen...
Jonny rolled over, vomiting up seawater, blood, and the bear claws and beers he had shared with Vanadium a lifetime ago. Long moments passed as his stomach threw up every bit of content it contained.
...it will pass...
The voice was slow, melodious, and infinitely sad.
Jonny turned to look at the person he sensed next to him.
...Fruit pie?...
Forlorn Waif held a Countess Crey Fruit Pie out toward The Late Gentleman Jonny Blaster.
Jonny felt a hunger erupt in his stomach, and he reached out one pale hand, the black twisted veins prominent under his waxy skin, blue fingernails ragged and torn, and his wrist slightly twisted.
...It's cherry...
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
Superb writting, Rusted, you've become one of my favorite forum reads.
(Author’s Note: The following takes before the release of Issue 16: Power Spectrum)
The room was smokey and full of the hymns of hidden women. The standard black and red decor was concealed by hand woven tapestries, modesty screens painted with long patience and painstaking detail. Braziers burned rare and exotic herbs and powders, releasing thick cloying smoke that confused the senses. In the center of the room was a pool of clear water, the surface coated with a rising mist that smelled faintly of lilacs and roses.
From behind the screen first came a deathly pale white leg, shapely and firm, solid appearing despite the fact that it was nearly insubstantial. Next came the body, normally clad in black and white armor that was recognizable even to small children, but now totally nude, an alluring wraith of white and cold. Long white hair swirled around a heart shaped face like fog, and the dark eyes, surrounded by black flesh, were as hard as agates and as distant as sunset was to morning.
The woman silently crossed the room, her body slowly undulating with other-worldly grace as she approached the pool. Once at the side, she knelt on the engravings that lit up with a pale light that came from within the stone and precious metal itself.
A woman dressed all in white, with a veil of white lace covering her face, approached and knelt as the cold woman let her hair fall in front of her. She wordlessly held out an unsheathed dagger engraved with runes that glittered with cold fire, and the white skinned woman reached out and lifted the dagger up. As the white veiled woman withdrew into the fog of incense and smoke, the pale woman brought the dagger in front of her and drew the blade across one pale palm. For a long moment the gash was a bloodless cut, revealing not flesh and blood but just more white beneath the skin, then silver welled up within the cut. The woman held her palm over the water, and the silver liquid, thicker than blood and shining in the dimness of the room, began to slowly fall toward the surface of the pool with long drops.
One, two, three fell into the water, and the woman closed her hand, stopping the flow of silver liquid. Careful, restrained movement left the woman lying on her back, her legs crossed at the ankles and white hair spread out beneath her head. The dagger was held loosely in the hand that capped the thin white arm that appeared have been negligantly arranged toward the interior of the room. The other arm lay mostly at her side, her elbow slightly bent, so that the wounded hand dipped its fingertips into the water. Ripples spread out from the fingers, twisting away as if a current drew the ripples in a slow vortex toward the middle. Thin lines of silver highlighted the ripples as her hand continued to slowly bleed, the silver 'blood' trickling down the fingers.
For a long moment the woman lay still, unmoving, unbreathing, eyes closed and full black lips parted slightly. The vapors and mists swirled about her, revealing and concealing her exposed beauty, as if trying to preserve her modesty, or as if to caress her cold, white skin.
A wisp of vapor teased her black lips, and the woman gave a long, shuddering moan, her hand trailing in the water jerking spasmodically. She gave a sigh, her lips opening just a shade more, and vapor poured in between her lips, moving against the slight air current, and her back arched, her eyelids fluttering to reveal white eyes with no color. Her fingers twitched as the hymns raised in volume and flames leapt up from the braziers, waves of heat and chill washing over her bare skin.
She shuddered again, twisting and writhing, one foot kicking outward, but her fingertips remained grazing the surface of the pool, the tiny threads of silver liquid running from her palm mixing with water and drawn in a circular pattern into the center of the pool.
A cracked reflection... The sound of the woman's voice filled the air, seeming to emanate from above the center of the pool, mingling with the wordless hymns.
Each stares at the other... Her voice was an almost forgotten memory, barely a sound, an echo of a sound, a ringing silence amid the hidden singer's voices.
Hatred for hatred's sake... The purple and black flames within a blood red copper brazier roared up, then suddenly fell to a sullen glow, pulsing in time with the breathy voice that seemed to emanate from the smoke.
Blue becomes red... Her heels drummed against the stone, striking sparks with each hit, but her torso slowly writhed like a snake. Her voice emitted from the sparks, which winked out after each cold tone.
Red becomes blue... White shapely legs stilled, and the woman's back arched again, her features twisting into strain and agony. Her hair flared out, black and purple static electricity snapping out the words from within her ivory locks.
And gray emerges... The woman was lifted up, her fingertips still welded to the surface of the pool, and her body began to convulse, silver liquid flowing from her nose, the corners of her white eyes, and from her delicate ears.
Old loyalties die... She dropped as if strings had been cut slamming onto the stone, her hand in place and her fingers still delicately stirring the surface of the pool, barely breaking the tension of the water to leave ripples. Her voice was smoke amid the mists, echoing from everywhere, but originating unheard.
New loyalties arise... Her body seemed to flatten, widen, as if she was being crushed by a vast, invisible weight, her dulcet tones ringing from the crystal chimes that fell from their wires to shatter on the floor, each syllable spelled out in the unliving deaths.
Lies are revealed... There was movement beneath her alabaster skin, a face pushing up from within her stomach, mouth stretched open in a silent scream, and her words appeared one at a time as a mirror cracked and crazed, the glass crackling and turning smooth again between each word.
And truths are concealed... The mirror shattered outward in a puff of glittering dust, the frame blackened and twisted, and the silver dust spelled out the words that echoed silently through the room. Harsh purple veins appeared beneath the woman's skin, writhing and turning black.
Demons are summoned... One, and then another, and another wound appeared in her flawless flesh, silver leaking from each wound, and her mouth opened in a scream that shattered crystal goblets cut centuries before despite its silence. The words formed from each shattering, chiming tones that rang out brightly before becoming dulled and lost amid the vapors and mists.
Pistols are drawn... Silver mist erupted from the wounds, twisting upwards, borne upon unfelt breezes that caused nary a stir in the mists the silver threaded into. The voice seemed to come from deep underground, almost lost to the groaning of tortured earth.
Rainbows shall be unleashed... Her body rippled, smooth alabaster replacing twisting black veins and mortal wounds,the silver threads collapsing and dotting her flesh with sparkling dew. The words clanged and chimed from engraved bells, some black with age, others shiny and new.
Everything shall change... Her voice became distant, wreathed in crackling thunder, and her back arced again, her chest heaving as she drew in shuddering, pain wracked breaths.
Yet all will remain the same... Alabaster gave way to pink as a blush of health covered the woman's body, the perfect smoothness of her flesh gaining the imperfections and blemishes of living beauty. Her voice crackled from unseen fires lit to ward the room from chill as ruby red lips, plump and full, mouthed the words of the fire.
The way through the mirror... The mists swirled as she screamed the words, and cold mists flowed from between her lips to carry the words. The pink blush of health faded, leaving her skin icy and ashen, her rosy lips turning blue and cold.
Shall be opened... Her hand twitched, the dagger falling from her fingers, and her nails scrabbled against the cold stone. Her nails peeled back, revealing black replacements, and silver dripped down the black nails to smear on the floor.
And old hatred will flare... Her legs kicked out again, uncontrolled, blameless, as ashen flesh grew cold and white.
Amid the birth of new... The vibrant color of her eyes drained away, leaving orbs of pure white, and the flesh around them darkened, leaving her eyes white pearls set on ebony silk.
Dark will war with light... Her hair whipped about in a frenzy, and she shuddered and convulsed, her fingertips never leaving the surface of the pool.
And gray shall be born... Six and six again figures clad in red leather and vinyl, insubstantial and wrenched from eternal rest, rose up from the floor. Dead throats opened in agony and wailed the words from behind hoods, red lightning shrouding them turning purple and white before flickering out. Their otherworldly howls finished and they dropped into the ground as the woman screamed silently again.
Beware! Beware! For in the connection... Flames and sparks were birthed in the smoke and mists, swirling about with lives of their own, pulsing and crackling out the words. The woman writhed in pain, mist streaming from her nose and plunging back between her parted lips.
Are sown the seeds for all to be undone! The woman rolled away from the pool, trying to pull her hand free, as silver tears rimmed her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Her words were heard in the screaming feedback of the radios of her black clad guards. Men fell to their knees, clasping hands to their ears.
Ware! Ware! The mighty may fall! Her fingertips remained at the top of the pool, indifferent to her struggle to free herself, her eyelids flooding and her jaws gaping wide in a silent howl of agony. Her words were heard through the screams of the guards who held the sides of their heads in a vain attempt to block out her words. Blood spattered the floor as it erupted from the noses of mortals who had come to close to the grave.
And the Storm shall come for all! With a convulsive yank she managed to pull her hand free, the last of her words screamed from her own lips. She kicked and squirmed away from the pool, her body shuddering in silent sobs.
Maidens clad all in white, their faces concealed by white gauze, scrambled forward, kneeling next to their mistress, who cried out in agony and shuddered, her flesh rippling. Cloths warmed by the breath of passion, heated by sobs of agony, seared by dying screams, were gently dabbed against the flawless alabaster skin.
For a long moment the nude woman lay in the arms of her servants, her shudders lightening and eventually ceasing. They rubbed her with the cloths until the silver threads no longer leaked from her nose and mouth.
Finally she stood to her feet, sinuously gliding behind a cloth panel. Without gesture or command, women bound in white clad her in her clothing, while her hair was brushed out into a spray of frost.
The woman stood up silently, knowing without being told that her maidens had finished their ministrations. With languid grace she crossed the chamber, touching a panel with delicate fingertips. Runed and inlaid, the shield slowly retracted, sparks dancing across its surface as it retracted into the wall.
A single button press left it flashing red, its light splashing against the woman's skin. Long moments passed before the formerly hidden screen lit, bathing her in its cold light.
The helmeted visage was completely clad in shadow, only blazing red eyes that seemed to search and judge the soul could be seen. The helmet tilted forward slightly, almost seeming to lean outward. The woman folded into herself, going to one knee, her long white hair draping over her face.
"What have you seen?" The terrifying visage demanded.
"Chaos, my Lord. Chaos, violence, death, downfall spiced with only a trace of victory, which tastes of ash rather than sweet nectar." The woman replied.
"I need answers, not riddles." The tone was that of a man used to commanding and being obeyed.
"There is nothing but riddles to be had, my Lord." The woman answered, her voice passionless, empty of defiance as it was of any other emotion.
"Is Arachnos in danger?" The question was almost ritual.
"No, my Lord." As was the answer.
"And myself?" This time the figure seemed to loom large, but the woman seemed immune to intimidation.
"No more than any other day." The last was delivered with a wry smile that was hidden behind the veil of snowy hair.
With a growl of frustration, the connection was terminated from the other side.
As unchanging and uncaring as always, Ghost Widow stood and strode from her inner sanctum.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
The sound of bargaining in Greek filled the marketplace, with the cries of gulls and the commands barked at soldiers manning the nearby fortress adding a steady backdrop. The water of the fountain chuckled and muttered as Code Vatnya sat staring at the ground between his boots. The Russian could feel sweat on his brow at the thought of the meeting he had set up.
I am about to tell a God that his closest mortal friend, a hero of the Rogue Isles Invasion and the Second Rikti War by all accounts, is at my mercy and that I will not turn her over to him. Vatnya mused. I must be mad, to challenge one of the ancient Gods in such a way.
His helmet's visor inputs caught motion at the edge of Vatnya's mechanically widened vision. Townspeople were going down on one knee as a being of divine origin, wreathed in golden lightning and divine power, walked among them. While many strangers with fearsome power had come to their small town of Cimorora recently, this one was no stranger. His visage adorned pottery, small statues of him had been sold for centuries, and a gold embossed icon of him had been hammered above the doorway of the barracks.
"Vatnya." The god rumbled, walking up to stand before the armor clad Russian.
"Mythus." Vatnya said, neither kneeling nor making any move to get up from the stone bench in front of the fountain.
"What could be so important that you paid for priests to recite your prayer in my very own temple?" Mythus asked, his face clouding.
"They don't speak Russian, nobody who prays to you does. I knew you'd hear my words and come running." Vatnya said, not bothering to turn his attention from the flagstones he was studying.
"That does not answer the question I have asked of you." Mythus pointed out, his voice stern. The lightning crackled about his body, an outward expression of his internal anger.
"A woman. What it always comes down to. A woman." Vatnya said, finally looking up.
"Which woman is that?" Mythus asked. "Do you wish to take your pleasure from one of my temple maidens? That is hardly something you need to ask me about. Whatever coin they ask of you, simply cross their palms with it. You are a warrior, you would be welcome in my temple."
"Don't be ignorant, Mythus." Code Vatnya sneered, slowly getting to his feet. "The price for ignorance or foolishness seems to be death at this point in time."
"Are you threatening me, mortal?" Mythus stepped forward, balling one massive fist. The bells in the temple up the hill peeled out and the gulls went suddenly silent.
"So quick to fight? I see I misjudged you. I thought that you had the wisdom of the gods to go with the rest of it." Vatnya turned to walk away.
"Wait. Why did you call for me?" Mythus asked, the golden lightning subsiding.
"Like I said, it's about a woman." Vatnya said, slowly turning around and facing the god.
"If this is about Tachyon Hammer, I know of her... predilections shall we say... and being who I am, I approve. She's a warrior, and warriors have desire." Mythus laughed. "Bed her, if that is what you both will. Who knows, perhaps you may find something to occupy your time instead of cold mechanical creatures and revenge."
"Tachyon Hammer resigned her place with Vanguard two days ago." Vatnya began. "The day after we spoke on the beach, she completely resigned, citing their regulations involving off duty behavior and claiming that it created a 'hostile workplace' where she felt she could not do any good."
"I think your speech on the beach had more to do with it than any hostile workplace. She was quiet afterwards, something I ascribed to her memories of the invasion." Mythus interrupted.
"No matter her reasons. She quit, left the Rikti War Zone, and I did not hear from her for a little while." Vatnya admitted. "She had spent the previous night with me, and had promised to meet me in Pocket-D around midnight the next night."
Mythus smiled a knowing smile. "Stop that." Vatnya snapped. "Midnight came and went, but knowing her reputation, I simply figured she had found something else to occupy her. So I dismissed it from my mind, and spent the evening working."
"I know not where she is, Code Vatnya, she keeps her own council." Mythus said, holding up his hands.
"I said I didn't know where she was last night." Vatnya interrupted. "I know where she is now."
"Then what is this about?" Mythus asked, puzzled.
"I needed a Rikti power core, the kind the rifles that the Headmen use carry, so I went to the Rikti War Zone. I ambushed a squad of Rikti soldiers carrying what I thought was a dead Vanguard soldier." Vatnya held up a hand as Mythus growled, clenching his fists. Overhead thunder rumbled. "Figuring that the fallen soldier's family might like to know what had happened, I chased down and killed the four Rikti monkeys that were trying to drag the cloth wrapped body down."
"Take off your helmet, Russian." Mythus snarled, rage snapping in his tone.
"What?" Vatnya was thrown off by the apparent non-sequiter.
"I wish to see this in your eyes. I know that the Afghani people feared you, I know that your robotic minions hunted the native peoples of African countries for your amusement." Mythus growled. "I wish to see your eyes while you speak of this."
"And have you rip my head off and spit down my neck?" Vatnya laughed. "I'm old, not foolish."
"Then summon your creations, they shall give you peace of mind if my guarantee of surety does not." Mythus grated from between clenched teeth.
Code Vatnya smiled and triggered a combat callup of a set of his robotic minions. With a crackling sound, the robots teleported to his side. The square was filled with the smell of hot lubricant and ozone and the robots stepped off of the storage racks and through the portal ripped open in space. The portals collapsed with the sound of thunder, and Mythus stared calmly at the six combat robots.
"Kneel." Vatnya ordered, and Mythus opened his mouth to laugh at the mortal, until with a crash of metal on stone the robots dropped to their mechanical knees. Mythus closed his mouth and watched Code Vatnya remove his helmet, revealing his heavily scarred face and the eyepatch that covered a ruined eye. The Mad Roboticist tossed his helmet to one of the smaller combat drones, which caught it with one steel claw.
"Look at me, tell me what you found." Mythus said. Hades will release her soul to me, or I will tear the Underworld down about his ears...
Code Vatnya pulled free his eye patch and stared into Mythus' eyes with his one good eye, and one eye that was milky white and surrounded by thick scars.
"Inside the cloth I found Tachyon Hammer." Vatnya started, the stopped as Mythus took a step forward. Behind Vatnya capacitors whined and servos whirred as the robots prepared to defend their master.
"GIVE ME HER BODY!" Mythus shouted. Villagers, who had gathered quietly to watch, turned and ran from the square.
"No." Vatnya said.
"No? NO?" Mythus snarled. "What need have you of her mortal shell, now that her soul has been taken to the Underworld?"
"She's not dead. If we move her, she will be dead." Vatnya said. "She was stabbed with one of those Vanguard energy blades."
"How did she not bleed to death?" Mythus asked, taking a deep breath.
"Our mutal friend is, over charged shall we say. The same electricity she fights with, amuses herself with, and uses to fly cauterized the wound. It was messy, but not mortal." Vatnya explained patiently. "Oh, she would have died. She had gone into shock, lost a lot of blood, and not even a spark of electricity was detectable. That electric aura you gifted her with as a sign of your favor wasn't even visible."
"And now?" Mythus asked.
"She lives. Barely. If it had been anyone else who found her, she would have died." Vatnya told the god.
"May I see her?" Mythus asked.
"No. I have her hidden, and it has to be somewhere that I can keep an eye on her. That means I have to be there, and I cannot risk her health and my own life." Vatnya asked.
"Always watching out for yourself, eh?" Mythus said.
"More than just me. This is one young hero I might be able to save." Vatnya insisted.
"Swear to me. On your honor as a warrior, on the blood you have shed on the battlefields, swear to me that you will not harm her." Mythus demanded.
Vatnya stared at the god for a long moment, then heaved a sigh.
"I swear to you, Mythus, on my honor as a Spetsnaz officer, upon the blood that I have spilled upon the battlefield or ordered spilled, that I will not harm her nor attempt to brainwash or otherwise affect her." Vatnya said, reaching into the collar of his armor and removing something. Mythus caught the object, a standard USB drive.
"Plug that into your police scanner, Mythus. It'll only hold the image for about 45 seconds once power is applied, but you will see that she lives." Vatnya told the god.
Mythus nodded, pulling out his police radio and plugging the USB drive into the port provided. It chattered for a moment, then the hologram sprang into being. Buried within the swirling base light of the projection Tachyon Hammer seemed to float, peacefully asleep.
"I'm keeping her still until I'm sure she will survive." Vatnya said.
"Do not implant your high tech sorcery into her without her consent, or unless it is needed to ensure her survival." Mythus warned, turning off the radio. He unplugged the small thumb drive and crushed it beneath his sandal as he continued. "No 'improving' her or anything like that."
"I will not." Vatnya said, then held up his hand to top Mythus from turning around. "Do not give away that you know where she is. Search for her."
"Why?" Mythus asked.
"Because if you do not, whoever ordered her death may seek yours." Vatnya explained. "We are all in danger. All who stood at the beach with me."
"Very well, I will seek her out as if I did not know her fate." Mythus turned away, striding across the cobblestones.
Code Vatnya let out a breath, sagging slightly inside his armor.
I'm still alive! The townspeople peeked out of their windows as Vatnya began to laugh and buckle on his helmet.
"Come on, boys, it's Pocket-D and coolant for all!" Vatnya laughed.
And maybe Statesman will take a shot at me himself...
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
The television was turned to the news, and gathered around it was a semi-circle of old men and women who watched in rapt attention as Statesman congratulated several young heroes for managing to save the city from a shipment of Little Countess Snack Cakes which had been contaminated. Countess Crey stood next to Statesman, poised and confident as she reached forward to shake each of the heroes hands and congratulate them personally.
Probably ordered by a court to do it. The October Octogenarian sneered to himself as he dipped his spoon into his applesauce and took a bite.
Several of the elderly viewers broke into applause as Statesman stepped in front of Countess Crey and the heroes to give a speech that thanks to the tireless efforts of young heroes such as those behind him, the city of Paragon City remained safe.
What happened to you, Marcus? October wondered, not looking up from where he stirred his applesauce. I was there during D-Day, I fought with you to keep Storm Korps from interfering in the assault. I was there with you during the Battle of the Black Forest, where you took an energy blast to the chest that was meant for me, just I took that energy blade meant for you.
October Octogenarian, formerly Major October Frost, born Miles Frost, shook his head slowly, taking another bite of the applesauce.
We were meant to grow old, Marcus. He mused. Our minds are mortals, we lack the disassociation and the distance that the ancient Gods used to have. We gather grudges, form attachments, and light hatreds.
Do you really see the world as it is, or how you want it to be? October took another sip off his glass of warm water. Blasted nurses. I'm an old man, not an invalid, the least they could do is bring me cold water. Looking around to make sure none of the nurses were watching, he concentrated for a moment and the water suddenly had ice chips floating in it and the glass was covered with frost.
You still got it, Miles. He smiled to himself, taking a deep drink of the cool water.
"Mister Frost?" A woman asked. October barely kept from grimacing. It was Alice, one of the candy stripers. He hated her and the way she looked at all the elderly inhabitants of the Shady Autumn Nursing Home, her eyes full of pity and contempt.
"What?" October asked, careful to keep his voice querulous and weak.
"You have a visitor." The little brat sounded shocked that anyone would visit an old man unless they were paid money.
"Who is it?"
"A Ms. Flare." The tone in the girl's voice made October want to turn around and slap her across the face hard enough to send her eyeshadow running for cover. "Shall I bring her in."
"Yes, please. Thank you." October wheezed. The wheeze was harder than the voice, and October almost started coughing. He had time for two more bites of applesauce, and the television turned from Statesman's speech to political analysis of Statesman's speech by paid talking heads.
Footsteps approached, and October could smell the faint smell of burnt sugar, a scent he'd long come to associate with the heroine Inertia Flare.
"Now now, Mr. Frost, you know that you aren't allowed to wear that in the dining hall. It excites the other residents and you get aggressive when you wear it." Alice said in a gleeful but patronizing tone, and October felt his beret pulled off his head.
"Put the hat back, or I'll break your head open with my bare hands." Came a growl that only sounded slightly feminine.
"Miss, I assure you..." Alice sounded shocked.
October took another bite of applesauce.
"I assure you that if you try to take that beret from that man, a beret he earned with First Special Forces during the Korean War, a beret he earned the right to serving our country, I will personally put you in intensive care." The other woman snarled. October could feel heat pulsing from behind him, and adjusted his body temperature down a few degrees.
"Fine, here. But he's not supposed..." Alice started.
"Leave. Now." The other woman warned, and the temperature went up slightly.
Alice's footsteps rapidly withdrew, and the heat came closer, washing over him and wrapping around him, bringing the sent of warm drier fabric softener.
"Hello, Inertia." October said, taking another bite. He knew the fire tanker kept drier sheets in her pocket, her high body heat releasing the smell.
"Hello, October." The small red-headed woman took a seat next to the elderly man. She looked around her and wrinkled her nose. "Why do you stay here? You're welcome to stay in the base."
"And be surrounded by the exuberance of misguided youth? No, I'll stay here with people I can reminisce with, thank you." October answered.
"Suit yourself, old man." Inertia shrugged, then leaned over to hug October tightly.
"Has it been on the news?" She asked.
"Marcus? Yeah, he's been on the news all morning." October sighed.
"Statesman? He's been on the news?" Inertia turned and looked, her face growing tense. "That's odd."
"What is?" October asked, idly stirring the last of his applesauce. It didn't make any more, but it helped him stretch out how long he got to enjoy it.
"That he'd congratulate people on what looked to be a pretty standard job of heroing." Inertia said slowly. "It's odd that there hasn't been something else on the news."
"Like what? ChemCorps Longbow trial?" October caught himself before anything more than his silverware was covered in frost. "They find him guilty?"
"You haven't heard?" Inertia asked.
"About what?" October took another bite, savoring the taste.
"Forlorn Waif either killed or kidnapped Jonny yesterday."
October dropped the spoon he was holding, swaying slightly in his chair from the shock.
Jonny had come to the rest home and convinced October to take up heroing again. An earnest young man with an easy smile and handy joke, who had collected every bit of Major Frost and October Frost memorabilia ever made. A young man who had reminded October why he had once fought the good fight.
"You're sure?" October choked.
"Very sure. There were a couple of Lost who saw her come running out of a warehouse carrying him over her shoulders in Talos Island, and a couple of construction workers in Port Oakes who saw her drag him out of the ocean." Inertia said, her voice choking for a moment. "They said he looked pretty bad, that his face... his face was torn up."
"She must be taking him to Empress of Undeath." October said, pushing away the bowl. The applesauce had become bitter.
"Empress of Undeath? I thought she was killed a few months back in a Longbow raid on her base." Inertia reached over and took October's arm.
"Can you kill that which is already dead?" October asked, shaking his head. "No, if Forlorn Waif is about, then her Mistress is still alive."
"But why take him to her?"
"Perhaps he was dead. Perhaps Empress needs more spare parts for her undead minions. Perhaps Forlorn Waif is lonely." October said, grief thickening his voice. "Or just hungry."
"Could she be taking him to Code Vatnya?" Inertia asked, leaning forward with fire in her eyes. "Could she be working for Code Vatnya with Empress of Undeath dead?"
"Doubtful, but possible." October stood up, picking his beret off of the table and jamming it on his head. "We should investigate, I dislike the thought of Gentleman Jonny's body being a tool for someone else."
"Excuse me. Excuse me!" Alice came rushing forward as Inertia Flare walked side by side with the October Octogenarian toward the rooms. "Excuse me, but visitors are not allowed in the private quarters of..."
"Silence your prattling, woman!" October shouted, making a fist and jerking it in the air. Alice's words cut off as a solid block of ice encased the woman.
"We'll get my trenchcoat, and find the answers we seek." October swore.
Both heroes had tears in their eyes at the thought of The Laughing Gentleman Jonny Blaster lying cold and dead.
The bowl of applesauce remained on the table, unfinished.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
(Author’s Note: The following takes place After Mission 1 and during Mission 2, Arc: 312961 –The Bounty Hunter’s War)
Scarlet beams howled over the boulder, exploding stone it carressed, the beams superheating the liquid in the rock. Sand melted where the beams impacted, leaving behind shiny black divots. Shouted orders were heard over the sound of the weaponry by the two crouched behind the boulder.
"They're trying to flank us, Big Bug." The violet skinned woman said, reloading the massive magazine slotted into the weapon. She jerked back and cursed as a green hand, covered with rocky looking chitin, intercepted a beam only inches from her face.
"Have flanked us, old friend." The massive insect crouched next to her corrected.
"I'm going to kill every one of you lousy jumped up monkeys!" she shouted as she yanked back the charging handle, her hand releasing it and moving up to tap the forward assist to ensure the round was seated properly.
"Ready?" The insect warrior asked, lighting a cigar and clenching it between his mandibles.
"Born ready, baby." The violet skinned woman snarled, whirling to break out from behind the cover, her rifle held up to her shoulder.
"IT'S MANTIS TIME, BABY!" The insect warrior roared, standing up and beating his chest. Arachnos mace beams struck his chitin with bright flashes, but the massive insect shrugged off the attack as if it were nothing more than rain.
"EAT THIS!" The woman screamed, her face lit with joy as the black armored troops vainly triggered their maces at her, their beams flying wide. She pulled back on the trigger of her rifle and flame roared out from beneath the rifle, washing over the black clad figures and sticking to their armor. Seals ruptured and steam rushed out, the armor seeming to scream in time with occupants as the violet skinned woman burned them alive within their armor.
The insect warrior leapt over a rock, landing amid the black armored troopers. A fist smashed into the chin of a helmet, shattering the helmet and knocking the man unconscious in one catastrophic blow. Before the others could react, the insect slammed one foot into the ground, the force of the blow rocking the earth hard enough to send the rest of the Arachnos soldiers tumbling to the ground.
The woman leapt over the burning bodies, plunging through the cloud of smoke that smelled of burnt pork, ducking underneath the mace beams and popping up right in front of a black clad trooper with the cape of an officer. Grinning fiercely she slammed the butt of the heavy rifle into his faceplate, shattering it, and shot him twice in the chest as he stumbled back. A body flew overhead, crashing into the rocky ground and cartwheeling away limply.
Up ahead three Arachnos were trying to set up a heavy energy weapon mounted on a tripod, flanked by a pair of security drones, and the woman lifted the rifle back to her shoulder and fired a single high explosive grenade while staying on the run, letting the rifle fall to hang from the sling once she had fired. The grenade scored a direct hit, and the security drones went off in sympathetic detonations while body parts torn asunder flew into the air. She paid no attention, a blade of pure fire filling her hand as she closed in on another group of Arachnos, this one containing two of the huge soldiers wearing multi-armed backpacks.
The Male Mantid grabbed another Arachnos soldier and threw him against the wall, following it up with a punch that shattered the armor and left the man trying to breathe past shattered ribs. A forearm sent another soldier reeling back, spitting blood past a shattered faceplate, and the Male Mantid was past the leading wave and came bearing down on three men in capes, one of which was trying desperately to bring his assault rifle around.
"Burn, monkeys, burn!" Betty shrieked, bringing her sword around in an arc. The heavily armored goon screamed as his arm was severed at the elbow, while his partner stared dumbly at the fiery blade that disappeared into his chest. The first one grabbed the stump of his arm with the other hand, but never got the chance to shriek as the blade came free of the other one, looped around, and took his head off at the shoulders. The others tried to run, but Betty slammed her sword into the ground and chains of fire snaked up from the ground and pulled the Arachnos goons down onto the sand.
The Male Mantid grabbed the assault rifle and shattered it with one squeeze of his fist, and drove his other hand into the chest of the officer on the right, sending the man flying back to impact against the wall. A backhand sent the third man crumbling to the ground, his helmet shattered and eyes rolled back in his head. A barrage of beams hit the massive insect, doing nothing more than garnering his attention. The Male Mantid whirled and charged the group of men who clustered together, firing their maces defiantly, and uselessly.
He barrelled into the group of them, fists pounding, using his tremendous strength to batter them down and leave them all on ground groaning in pain. Behind him Betty leveled her rifle on a group attempting to run and hosed them down with hypervelocity depleted uranium rounds.
"Run, monkeys, run!" She howled, chasing after them and triggering burst after burst from her weapon, cutting their legs out from under them or sending them sprawling as the heavy caliber rounds cut through their armor like a hot knife through butter.
The last officer stood in the middle of the wreckage, shouting for one of his men, any of his men to fall back and regroup at his side. What had been a standard ambush had gone completely wrong when the two heroes had come out from behind their cover with blood in their eyes and mayhem in their hearts.
The battlefield was wreathed in smoke, and he could hear fire crackling and the moan of the wounded. Out of the smoke flew a body, landing limply at his feet. He had been struck so hard that the ballistic plating covering his chest had shattered away, revealing the kinetic shock sleeve beneath it leaking crimson fluid as if the man was bleeding.
"You should have run, monkey man." Came a harsh female voice from his left. The officer whirled to face the direction the voice had come from, his mace held tightly in his hands.
"Do not kill him yet, Betty, we need to know who told him we would be here." A deep rumbling voice added, and he whirled back in the direction of the newest voice.
From out of the smoke lumbered a huge insect, rough green insect armor covering him, a half-smoked cigar held in his mandibles, and a blue spraypainted cybernetic left arm looking out of place on the huge insect. The officer felt himself begin to tremble as the massive insect walked toward him.
"I'm not even collecting the bounty on this, I'm going to scalp him and tie it to my belt." The woman's voice answered, and the officer looked back in time to see an unearthly thin woman with purple skin glide out of the smoke. She was dressed in tight lime green shorts and a matching bikini type top. A turquoise trenchcoat swirled around her legs as she moved toward him on bare feet. A high tech but heavy rifle fell from a sling over her shoulder, and her fist was filled with a sword made of fire.
Panic filled the man as he realized that his failure to kill the duo was about to become a total failure. A vision of his wife and infant son appeared to him, and he heard them urging him to kill himself rather than put them in danger, that Lord Recluse would kill them for his failure if he was captured.
The infant was crying out in pain as Black Scorpion began to devour it alive, and the woman screamed in terror as Ghost Widow embraced her, kissing her and muffling her screams as the archvillain began to suck her life force out of her.
Panicked, the man put the barrel of the mace against his chin and triggered the weapon.
"NO!" Betty cried out, lunging forward, but stumbled to the side as the man's head exploded, covering her face in a thin layer of vaporized blood. She recovered her balance, and turned around to look at the man that the Male Mantid had thrown to the officer's feet.
His eyes were blank and glassy, his movements jerky as he drug a pistol from its holster and put it beneath his chin. Tears rolled down from his unseeing eyes as he pulled the trigger.
"Stop them, Big Bug, we need to question someone!" Betty yelled, running toward a group of Arachnos troops she had shot through the leg. Gunshots and the howl of mace beams told her she was too late before they become visible through the smoke.
"Betty, stop!" Male Mantid shouted as she bent down to turn over one of the badly wounded Arachnos who was moaning in pain. She looked up at the Male Mantid, confusion on her face suddenly replaced by fear as she looked down at the man.
He was grinning from between bloodstained teeth, a plasma grenade in his hand.
"Goodbye, Father." He said, and let go of the grenade.
Betty spun and leapt, trying to put the rock between her and the grenade. Behind her the man was screaming in a bubbling voice that now he had revenge for his sister and all the time he had heard her crying out in pain at the abuse she had suffered.
The grenade went off, showering her with wet sand that left crimson smears on her skin as she wiped it away.
"Are you OK, old friend?" Male Mantid yelled, moving through the smoke toward her.
"Fine. Crazy monkey tried to blow me up." She hollored back. The Mantid came up and knelt next to her as she sputtered and tried to spit the taste of scorched human flesh and blood out of her mouth.
"Did you..." Mantid started as Betty wiped her mouth.
"Notice something weird? Yeah." She interrupted.
"I was going to ask if you felt the psychic vibrations I did." Mantid chided gently, handing the stub of the cigar to Betty and pulling another from his belt pouch.
"No, sorry, didn't notice that with all the exploding and suicide." Betty stood up and took a long pull off the cigar. "Thanks, Big Bug."
"Take down these men's images, and the dermal patterns of their graspers." Mantid said, walking over to one of the bodies and pushing the man over with the toe of his massive boot. The man's face was a grimace of terror, far more than Mantid was used to seeing on the faces of the soldiers of Arachnos.
"Think something is wrong, Big Bug?" Betty asked, bending down and pulling off one of the soldier's gauntlets. She pressed her scanner to the dead fingers, waiting while it scanned the prints and took a DNA sample to compare it to the bounty hunter database.
A small electronic device on her waist began howling, and Betty threw the scanner away from her, tucking and rolling away from the corpse. Mantid leapt into the air, his poweful legs thrusting him toward Betty.
Mantid covered Betty with his own body, keeping his back toward the body and the scanner. A split second later the scanner detonated in the distinctive eye-watering snapping explosion of an implosion charge usually used in Rikti grenades.
"Are you intact?" Mantid asked, feeling nervous so close to a female of any species. It made the chitin on top of his cranium itch.
"Yeah." Betty said, looking mournfully at the destroyed cigar.
"What happened?" Mantid asked, pulling out another one and lighting it for her.
"My scanner self-destructed." Betty answered. "Duh."
"Why? Did you tire of it? It was an ugly color."
"No. As soon as I logged into Bounty.net to run that guy's ID for the bounty the charge went live." Betty said, sitting down on the sand and taking a deep drag off of her cigar. She blew smoke rings at the sky while she thought it through, thinking of what she had seen for a split second.
"Just before it blew, it gave me back the data on who that was." She finally said.
"And so?" Mantid's antenna quivered with curiosity.
"Yeah, his name was John Welner." She grinned and ran a hand through her blood slicked hair.
"He was a Longbow Warden."
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
The fog lay thick on the street, the dark street lights providing no warming lights. Cars were strewn about the street and newspapers blew on the winds. Only the faint sounds of chanting could be heard on the cold wind that blew through the deserted streets. Buildings reached toward the sky, windows blind and dark, and the smell of mold and fungi filled the air.
Two figures walked the streets, one man, one woman. The man was lean and wiry, all corded muscle beneath his uniform, which was Navy Blue, with white sleeves and red boots. White stars adorned his legs, a golden eagle on his chest, and the blue and red patterned shield he held tightly in one hand. The eagle of a US Army Colonel was pinned to his breast, and the patch of the 3rd Infantry Division rode on his shoulder. The woman was pleasing to the eye, dressed in purple with a cape that stirred in the cold breezes. A white eagle adorned her chest, and a mask of two black stars covered her eyes beneath her blond hair. She carried a heavy sack over one shoulder, her leather gloves creaking as she shifted her grip.
As they approached an intersection her lips tightened and her eyes narrows. People crossed the sidewalk, ignoring the scattered cars that often flashed their headlights with dim light as the heroes approached. She could see through them, as if they were movies projected on the thick fog, and as the pair approached the figures dressed in out of date fashions, they faded from view.
Silently the pair moved through the streets, both of their faces grim. They ignored the laughter of children they heard from an alley, the strange lights that bobbed at the edges of their vision, and the man that plummeted from above them to disappear when he should have struck the pavement. They stoically forged onward, across empty overpasses that spanned roads with old cars scattered about, through a tunnel that was pitch black and seemed to breathe with a life of its own, down streets littered with papers that seemed to span from the 1950's to declaring that the First Rikti War had ended and Hero-One had been lost. When the pair came to a rough, high wall, they followed it until they reached an open iron gate.
Silently, they entered the graveyard, keeping a watchful eye about them. They snuck past the Dry Husks in command of the Banished Pantheon wizards that dug at the graves, past the floating wooden masks glowing with the light of the malevolent spirits that inhabited them. Past the shamans, who barked orders in the strange language of the Banished Pantheon to the animated dead under their command, each step bringing them closer and closer the large hill in the far corner of the graveyard. At one point a shaman, clad only in a loincloth and ceremonial beads, stepped toward them, raising his hands into the air, but the woman stepped forward, spreading her hands out at her side and tilting her head toward the shaman. The shaman dropped his hands, looking around, then rubbed a large knot on his forehead and moved back into the fog.
At the base of the hill, the pair followed a trail, the man pulling out a key and unlocking a gate when they came to it, until it led them into a cave inside the hill itself. The man took out a flashlight of OD green plastic, clipping it on his shield so that it's L shape let the lens face forward to pierce the gloom with wan light.
"I hate this place, Colonel." The woman said as they slowly walked into the cave system that had been converted into tombs for the thousands of heroes who had died to protect Paragon City over the decades. Some tombs had images of the dead on the doors, others had names, and still others only had time and place of death.
"As do I, Captain, but the one we seek is only at rest here." The man said, counting tombs to himself and taking a left. Mist had grown up from the floor, and swirled around the pair's calves as they walked deeper and deeper into the ever growing cold darkness of the catacombs, passing by tomb after tomb.
"Will he aid us?" The woman asked. "Do we dare ask him for help, Colonel Victory?"
"He and I are oath-bound, if he can give his help, he will, Miss Moral." Colonel Victory assured the woman. He stopped suddenly in front of a tomb, wiping off the brass faceplate to reveal the legend "Zuka Jilipiza, 1845-1867" engraved on the plate. "Here he is."
Miss Moral shivered slightly as she set the bag down, something inside moving feebly, more than just the cold chilling her.
"I wish Major Frost could have joined us." Miss Moral said as Colonel Victory stared for a long time at the crossed hammers over an African tribal shield engraved into the stone of the door.
"I called the rest home, and the phone just rang and rang." Colonel Victory said, taking a deep breath. "He's probably at Our Lady of Hope playing bingo, it's bingo night at the home." Colonel Victory shook his head. "No sense in dawdling."
Colonel Victory hammered his fist against the stone of the crypt, once, twice, three times, the booming impacts echoing through the crypt.
"Who disturbs my slumber?" The deep voice reverberated through the hallways of the catacombs, and bats shrieked to wakefullness and fled, filling the tunnel with their winged forms. Miss Moral and Colonel Victory held still until the bats had passed, and then Colonel Victory hammered three times again on the door.
"Who dares awaken me?" The voice asked, sounding closer this time. The torch sconces on either side of the door burst into cold blue flame.
Colonel Victory hammered three more times on the door, this time shouting out "US Army! Open the door, bound one!"
For a long moment silence rained in the catacombs, then the door slowly ground open, releasing a rush of stale air that smelled heavily of dead flesh and mold. Candles set upon skulls lit the cavernous crypt with dim light, and skulls could be seen decorating the walls, all four corners of a massive bier, and the heavy stone desks against the wall.
The figure in the doorway was massive, standing over seven feet tall, heavy slabs of muscles forged by endless, tireless labor bulging beneath the dark brown skin that was covered with intricate tribal tattoos. No mere decoration, the tattoos had been inked into the skin by tribal witch doctors long before the man who stood before them had been sold into slavery in Africa. His lips had shrivelled and pulled back from his black and jagged teeth, massive iron bolts had been sunk into his neck, and burning red eyes stared from beneath a heavy brow. The creature wore ragged black pants, had bare feet with black nails, and hands the size of shovels. Heavy rusted chains were strewn on his massive arms and chest, leaving dark crimson smears when he moved. Darkness swirled around him as he stood and stared down at the two smaller figures in front of them.
"Good evening, Zuka." Miss Moral said, stepping forward and curtseying. The massive figure gave a bow, and stepped to the side, motioning for the two to enter the crypt. Instead of stepping directly into the tomb, she wrapped her arms around the cold dead brown flesh and hugged the massive undead. Zuka returned the hug, his arms strangely gentle and his severe face softening for a moment before the two released one another and Miss Moral stepped past him. When Miss Moral stepped inside, her eyes fell on the two items laid at the foot of the bier and shivered.
A sledgehammer, the brown wood ancient and worn smooth through decades of use, the heavy steel head rusted, dented and nicked. She had seen that sledgehammer explode through the armor of Rikti soldiers as well as send a Behemoth Master staggering back with fire pouring from a crater the size of a dinner plate. Underneath the fearsome sledgehammer was a shield made of painted leather stretched over wood, with the skull of a wildebeast on the front and feathers on the back. The red of the paint glinted in the dim light and Miss Moral knew that it would be wet to the touch and leave her hand stained with the blood of those who abused the innocent.
Colonel Victory stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the mountainous undead and hugged him, lifting the other man up slightly before setting him down.
"Good to see you, Zuka." Colonel Victory said, slapping the man on the back before letting him go.
"Colonel." The giant rumbled. "What brings the two of you here to my resting place? Is it war? Do the innocent and downtrodden cry out for vengeance?"
"Possibly Zuka, but we come for a different reason." Miss Moral answered, setting down the sack.
"What brings the light of what is right to my dark crypt?" Zuka intoned, his voice echoing in the tomb.
"The Laughing Gentleman Jonny Blaster was taken by Forlorn Waif, possibly killed." Colonel Victory told the giant, moving over and pulling out a chair to sit down in it. "We need to know if her mistress, the Empress of Undeath still lives?"
"The answer is no. She does not." Zuka rumbled, "You have wasted your time."
"We know she does not live, Zuka. She was dead when she came here from her world through one of the Circle's mystical gates. We need to know whether or not Forlorn Waif still serves her." Miss Moral said, stepping forward and putting her hand on Zuka's massive biceps. "Please, for Jonny and those who love him. He has fought and shed blood by your side, he carried you here when you fell during the First Rikti War. Please, for Jonny."
"If Forlorn Waif lives, she serves her Mistress." Zuka said, turning and walking toward a desk. One sweep of his massive hand cleared it, sending the skull of a Rikti Soldier crashing to the floor along with tomes and scrolls. "You wish to know if Jonny still lives, and for the blood he has shed to protect the innocents, for his generosity toward those who are oppressed, I shall beseech the spirits to whisper to me."
"Thank you, Zuka." Colonel Victory said, watching the massive undead pull down candles, chalk, and other things to pile them on the recently emptied desk. Miss Moral leaned against the wall and watched Zuka build a circle with slow and careful deliberation.
"I will need a goat for this. Did your bring a goat?" Zuka broke the long silence, turning to face the other two with burning red eyes.
"A white one." Miss Moral answered, pulling the bottom of the bag off the ground and dumping out the contents.
A drugged and tied goat, a bound Raven, and a single chicken egg painted with swirling and eye pulling designs.
"You have all I need and more. I can beseech powerful spirits with such things to appease their hunger." Zuka intoned.
The living watched the dead perform a ceremony that was ancient in its roots, held still as the crypt filled with swirling spirits that screamed their rage and pain and howled the injustices they had suffered, and closed their eyes when Zuka stood, naked, and raised the sledgehammer over the goat.
"Empress of Undeath does still move about this world, although she has learned to stay in the darkness. Longbow did not kill her as they claimed, although many died assaulting her home and went unrecognized and unrewarded. Many were buried in an unmarked grave in Sharkhead Island, and their mortal remains found use with the Circle of Thorns." Zuka told them when it was over. "She strides the dark gulf between the living and the dead like a titan of old, a colossus of cold white marble and iron will bending the dead to her designs."
He rolled his head on his massive neck, the bones crackling as the tension released. "The one you call Forlorn Waif burns with a bright fire, her spirit calling out for vengeance against the team-mates who left her behind to the ashen mercy of the Circle of Thorns, her soul howling out its rage and anger at having been abandoned and despised by those she sought to protect. She has passed beyond the veil, but like her mistress, she walks the chasm between the living and the dead."
"And Jonny?" Colonel Victory asked, dreading the answer.
"Has passed beyond the mortal veil and howls in the darkness between life and death." Zuka answered. "His enraged spirit and the tormented spirit of the one you know as Forlorn Waif are intertwined."
Miss Moral put her face in her hands and wept in the crypt below Dark Astoria.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
Vanadium ducked as automatic weapons fire pocked the wall above him, putting a hand out and grabbing the corner of the building to swing into the alley. His armor tell-tales were warning of him of heavy degradation to his rear armor plating, his weapon systems were out of juice, and a crack went across the faceplate of his armor, forcing him to shut the electronic systems in the visor down and let it turn clear to allow him to see.
Vanadium slid to a stop and grabbed a garbage can, waiting and watching the far side of the alley. When several of the Longbow fliers appeared, he flung the heavy dumpster at them. Two managed to scoot out of the way, the three others were hit by the flying steel and went down, one screaming and holding a twisted leg.
Before any of them could recover, Vanadium rushed back out of the alley, leaping into the air and bringing two fists down on the top of the head of one of the Longbow fliers. The force of the blow caused blood to erupt from her nose and some of her teeth to shatter, but Vanadium ignored the helpless woman to turn around and do the same thing again. The Longbow flier who thought he was out of range had a split second to goggle as Vanadium's hydraulic assistance built into his armor let him leap up taller than a telephone pole. Another doublehanded crunch, and that one dropped too. Vanadium landed with his boot in the stomach of one of the ones who had been knocked down by the dumpster, agilely avoiding the vomit which sprayed out of his mouth.
"STAY DOWN, DOGS!" He shouted, slamming his fist into the temple of the last of the squad, dropping the man down to the pavement where he went into convulsions. He lifted a foot to bring it down on the screaming woman's head when the plasma blast caught him in the side, throwing him down the street and into a parked car. His armor took the blow easily, but the car exploded underneath him, throwing him onto his hands and knees on the pavement. The shock dampening gel dispersed the impact, expanding and leaking from the joint seal pressure valves, making it look as if he was dripping blood onto the ground.
The Longbow troops didnt pause, pouring fire into him. Three more plasma hits knocked him onto his back and a hail of automatic rifle fire bounced off of his armor. He heard a few civilians screaming as the bullets smashed into them, leaving a few in still and bloody crumpled heaps.
Despite the weaponsfire, Longbow had given Vanadium the time he needed, and the onboard auxiliary zero point power supply came online, and he felt his armors hand to hand combat systems come back up. Shielding came online, and the bullets no longer smashed into him, and even the thermal bloom of a plasma weapon hit didnt touch his armor.
Im going to tear your arms off and beat your mothers to death with them! Vanadium howled, clenching his fists into the asphalt and getting his feet under him. The Longbow troops kept advancing, one of them washing a flamethrower over him, and several directing miniguns at him, but none of the weaponsfire did anything more than degrade his shields and drain power from his systems.
Vanadium leapt forward, swinging his electricity wrapped fists, the rage of battle filling him. Fists splintered ribs, shattered jaws, fractured skulls, and left moaning or silent Longbow troops behind him. Two Longbow Wardens waded in, one with razor sharp spines, the other with energy wrapped fists, but Vanadium roared at the top of his lungs and pummeled both of the Wardens until they stopped moving.
He got a moment of respite and spun in place, his heavy armored boots pounding on the pavement as he headed for the Ouroboros recall point. His onboard navigation system was shot, and even if it hadnt been, his visor did little more than protect his face, despite the onboard repair nanites doing their best to fix the damage. The crack was sealed, and Vanadium could feel the tingling of electricity as the damage control systems tried to repair the damaged molecular circuitry and reroute around what it could not fix, but so far his faceplate remained transparent.
Five more blocks, just five more blocks. Vanadium growled, charging across the street. The fact that there was no traffic on the street told him that the PPD was on site, routing traffic around him and trying to contain him, so the sight of PPD Enforcer Powered Assault Armor thundering down the cross street on either side of him came as no surprise.
One raised up a cannon and sent a burst of shells after him, but Vanadium put on extra speed when he was the cannon lift, and the burst howled by behind him, tearing into the front of a store and blowing a car in half. All four suits reaimed, but it was too late, Vanadium was across the street and moving fast toward the next intersection, his armored legs pumping and his heavy boots leaving craters behind him.
A costumed hero came swooping down, gesturing toward Vanadium, and frost coated his armor. With a snarl, Vanadium leapt into the air, grinning savagely at the shocked expression on the heroes face. Before he could do much more than recoil, Vanadium had him by his hair, sweeping the hero around as he descended and crushing him into the ground. Blood shot from the mans nose and mouth, and his eyelids fluttered as he hovered on the edge of unconsciousness. He pawed weakly at Vanadiums wrist as the supervillain lifted him up and spun in place.
The burst of autocannon shells fired by the PPD armored trooper slammed into the hero, nearly cutting the man in half, but slowing the rounds enough that they didnt even penetrate Vanadiums shielding.
Vanadium tossed the man to one side, where the body slammed against a dumpster, and took off running again. The PPD hardsuits kept up a withering stream of fire, but Vanadium was an old hand at armored combat, and he kept jinking and zagging. The hardsuit pilots were making the novice mistake of firing where he was, or misjudging the pattern he was in, and one a handful of rounds came close enough to cause his shielding to flare.
The next intersection came up, and Vanadium got two steps into when a big steroid monster of a brawler stood up with the bumper of a car in his hands. Before Vanadium could react, the man swung the car up and slammed the roof onto Vanadium.
Easy as pie. The man rumbled, eyeing the smoking wreckage. He stood and started to flex for any onlookers, turning around and smiling.
Vanadium launched himself out of the wreckage, slamming a massive spiked gauntlet into the mans back. He shrieked and took two steps forward, hands reaching around to grab his kidneys. Vanadium grabbed the mans hair, yanked him backwards, and brought his other hand down in an open handed chop, crushing the steroid monsters throat. He dropped the man, who was holding onto his throat and staring at the sky with bulging eyes, and moved forward again.
Where are all these spandex wearing idiots coming from? I just want to get out of here! Vanadium snarled to himself as two more heroes landed. One set herself in a martial arts pose, the other raised her hands over her head, the air above her beginning to thicken and stir as she called a small thunderstorm into being.
Out of way, *******! Vanadium yelled, bulling forward. Lightning struck his armor, overloading his shield, and the storm hero frantically backpedaled as one of Vanadiums gauntlets reached for her face.
She never completed her backstep as the PPD hardsuits behind him knelt down and fired. The back two launching micro-missiles, the forward two opening up with their autocannons. The backpedaling woman took both bursts directly, one minute there and the next minute nothing more than pink mist and tatters of flesh. The martial artist screamed in pain and rage, swinging her leg out in a kick that Vanadium took across the reinforced bridge of his helmet.
The missiles landed in a firestorm of plasma, and Vanadiums armor screamed as the surface was superheated. The martial artist couldnt even scream as she was enveloped in the explosion, and Vanadium was vaguely aware of her charred body flying away, shedding costume and flesh in equal measures.
There! The Ouroboros beacon was flashing and swirling with a golden light, beckoning to Vanadium, promising the safety of the Rogue Ilses and 3 years later.
The only problem was the Longbow soldiers mingled with PPD Emergency Reaction troops behind a barricade of cars.
OPEN FIRE! the Longbow Warden shouted, his cape fluttering in the breeze. The Paragon Police Department troops and the Longbow soldiers all began shooting at the red armor clad figure barreling down on them.
The Warden watched incredulously as the massive figure waded through their massed firepower, cracks and pockmarks appearing in the heavy power armor. The helmet half-shattered away, exposing a flat faced, fairly ugly man with close cropped blond hair, what looked like RCA connector plugs in his temple, and chrome eyes.
The PPD hardsuits chasing the man opened fire again, and the police and Longbow screamed as the 20mm shells chewed through the cars and tore into their lines like a thresher. Blood gouted, men screamed and died, and three of the cars exploded.
CEASE FIRE DAMMIT! The Warden screamed as the Hardsuits stomped forward, their cannons belching death and destruction. For the love of God, cease fire! The hardsuits paid no attention, moving forward remorselessly and continuing to flail at the running red suited figure.
The man leapt in the air, his armor leaking red fluid, the arc taking him out of the killing zone. Several missiles fired by the hard suits chasing him impacted, sending him sprawling like a rag-doll, cartwheeling through mid-air bonelessly, until he smashed into the ground almost twenty meters past the police.
The Harsuits triggered another volley of missiles, which hugged close to the ground, then popped up and looked down for Vanadium, who was crawling forward, one of his legs only twitching spasmodically. The peniads on the missiles identified their target and rolled on their guidance thrusters, slamming downward in their terminal attack run.
Vanadium reached forward and slammed his hand into the Ouroboros beacon, feeling a ghostly hook grab him just under the chin and snatch him forward.
The missiles impacted a split second later, blowing huge chunks of pavement into the air, but Vanadium was gone.
The Warden picked himself off the ground, cradling his broken arm and hunched over cracked ribs. He opened his mouth to scream at the four Hardsuit troopers, but they were nowhere to be seen, only a faint golden glitter that dispersed fast enough that the Warden wasn't even sure he had seen it.
What in the world
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
(Author’s Note: The following takes place after Mission 3, Arc: 312961 –The Bounty Hunter’s War)
Global Betty watched carefully as Forlorn Waif plodded slowly through the supergroup’s base. She was blindfolded, but seemed content to munch on a Little Countess Strawberry Snack Cake rather than suddenly explode in violence, but Betty didn’t trust the undead killing machine one bit.
The mercenaries she’d hired to bring her Forlorn Waif had reported that she’d been surrounded by Longbow, but had not reacted in the slightest. She had seemed content to munch on snack cakes rather than attack everyone in sight like she usually did, and Betty had stopped by a convenience store to grab some more cakes rather than risk the consequences of running out of them.
Forlorn Waif had not uttered a single sound, not even resisting the blindfold, and she seemed to have no ill effects from Betty’s base transporter. The mercenaries said she hadn’t made a single sound, not even really acknowledging that they were there except to trot along behind them.
It was downright unsettling.
Inertia Flare and the Male Mantid watched closely, wary of any attack by the notorious supervillain, and refusing to be lulled into complacence by her apparent apathy. Miss Moral walked close by, staring at the dead woman, but otherwise saying nothing.
Betty led Forlorn Waif into the room where Hammerheat’s body lay, and the bounty hunter could see the massive form of Zuka standing in the corner. Betty reached over and pulled free the blindfold, revealing that Forlorn Waif's eyes were covered by thick iron plates with what looked like handles to pull them free. The side of her face was savaged, rotting meat and clotted black blood exposed, and her skin was ashen gray.
“She says you have nothing to fear, that her mistress told her that you would succor her and bring her here, and she has been commanded to do as you bid.” Zuka rumbled. Betty shivered at the otherworldly tone of the massive undead. She hated magic. Didn’t understand it, didn’t want to understand it.
Forlorn Waif walked up to Hammerheat’s body, climbing onto the massive corpse and resting her head against the mauled chest, still munching on her snack cake. For a long moment she did nothing more than eat, and when Colonel Victory stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak, Zuka held out one shovel sized hand and shook his head.
When all that was left was frosting, the dead woman licked her lips clean and squirmed up the body until she was face to face with it. She stared downward at the man for a long moment, then leaned forward and licked first one side of his face, then the other. She angled her head, as if she could see past the heavy iron plugs that covered up her eyes, then leaned forward to kiss the corpse, and Miss Moral shuddered at the sight of an open mouth kiss.
“She says he is dead.” Zuka intoned.
“Yeah, no kidding?” Colonel Victory muttered.
“She also says that his killer wore a costume, but it was not their costume.” Zuka continued.
“Ask her if it was Code Vatnya.” Inertia snarled. “That’s a force rifle blast to the side of his head, and that’s what killed him.”
For a long moment nothing was said, and Forlorn Waif left off kissing the dead man, to squirm up and kiss his forehead and sniff around his ears before making an eerie mewling sound that sounded more like a sick kitten than a person.
“She says that the Mad Russian would have tasted like cold metal and logic, not like rage and insanity, and asks how come we suspect him.” Zuka reported.
“Because he damn near took over the Rogue Isles, that’s why! He branded a woman’s face out of no other reason than cruelty.” Inertia Flare spit. “And none of this started until he got us all to meet him on that beach in Cimerora. Hammerheat walked away, and now he is dead? It’s too much to be just coincidence.”
Forlorn Waif made another mewling noise, then ducked down to lick the inside of Hammerheat’s ear lapping up the dried blood and brain tissue that had crusted the inside of the ear.
“STOP THAT!” Miss Moral yelled, stepping forward, and Forlorn Waif’s head whipped around. Despite the iron plates that covered her eyes, Miss Moral could feel the weight of the stare, the hatred that consumed the dead woman, and the rage that powered her cold flesh.
Forlorn Waif hissed, her mouth opening to reveal black and broken teeth, and Miss Moral stepped back at Zuka’s wave. Forlorn Waif’s steel covered eyes followed Miss Moral as she stepped back, then the dead woman returned to daintily licking the dead heroes ear.
“God, that’s so gross.” Betty said, hugging herself and shivering.
“Shhh.” Male Mantid said, reaching out and hugging the violet skinned woman close to him. “I do not understand it, but I can tell that when a woman devours the brain of her mate, she gains his memories, and sings his memories to the eggs, so that they know their father in ways you would not understand. Perhaps she is gaining his memories.”
“It’s still gross.” Betty insisted, leaning against the big insect warrior and reaching up to snag his cigar. She took a few puffs and placed it back into his mandibles. “Thanks, Big Bug.”
Forlorn Waif gave out a strange, low moan, and started sniffing the dead man’s hair.
“She says that he once had an affair with his cousin.” Zuka said, then grunted. “She says ‘Ha ha, fooled you.’ and asks if we have any Little Countess Cupcakes.”
“Here.” Colonel Victory said, stepping forward and setting a tinfoil wrapped cupcake on the table where Hammerheat’s body was laid out. Forlorn Waif sat up, her butt disturbingly positioned on Hammerheat’s groin, and grabbed the cupcake, ripping away the foil and taking a large bite.
“She’s wearing panties, right?” Colonel Victory leaned over and asked Miss Moral.
“Why don’t you check?” Miss Moral suggested, and both snickered quietly.
Forlorn Waif looked at the two snickering heroes and dismissed them, her attention solely focused on licking the cream center out of the cupcake.
“She says that Hammerheat was attacked and killed in Skyway City, after he helped the police put down a Troll Rave.” Zuka informed the others. “That his attackers wore the uniforms of the Council, but seemed unfamiliar with their weaponry.”
Forlorn Waif made another mewling noise, then crammed the rest of cupcake in her mouth.
“She says Inertia Flare should stop staring at her woman parts, and suggests she finds herself a man.” Zuka finished. “She says Jonny makes a good man, and that you should have enjoyed him, instead of letting Longbow kill him.”
“You little…” Inertia snarled, stepping forward and pulling her heavy war mace off of her belt.
“Easy, Inertia, easy.” October Octogenarian said, grabbing the shorter woman’s arm. “She’s dead, you can’t expect the dead to have manners. If she had manners, she wouldn’t be sitting on a dead man with chocolate frosting on her nose.”
Forlorn Waif made a choking noise, black blood running down her chin and out of her nostrils, and it took a moment for everyone to realize that she was laughing. She pointed at October and kept choking, then reached up with crossed eyes, scooped the frosting off of her nose, and licked her finger clean.
“She says that she can see the one who shot Hammerheat, but that she will not tell us.” Zuka told the others.
“Just why the hell not?” Colonel Victory snarled.
“She says that she knows who he is, that he is the reason she has gained a new companion, and her Mistress a new servant, and that she will kill him to prove herself to her new companion, and then she will take Jonny Blaster in ways that none who still stride the land of the living would ever understand.” Zuka said. "She says that she will smear the man's blood upon Jonny Blaster and herself and..." The undead giant looked slightly abashed. "The rest doesn't really translate."
Forlorn Waif made the choking noise again and ground her hips against the dead man.
“Then I’ll beat it out of her.” Inertia Flare snarled, hefting her mace and starting forward.
Forlorn Waif smiled at the diminuative warrior, then crossed her eyes, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and jerked her head with a smirk.
In a burst of black energy that left behind fat green flies, she was gone, leaving behind only a string bikini bottom. Inertia Flare stumbled back, cursing and pawing at her face as the flies swarmed around her, then brought up her fire aura, incinerating the flies and leaving her angry but unharmed.
“She says those are for Colonel Victory if Miss Moral can fit them over her large butt.” Zuka finished.
“Ew, gross.”
"HEY!"
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
(Author’s Note: The following takes place during Mission 4, Arc: 312961 –The Bounty Hunter’s War)
Pain was the first thing she knew. Not an overwhelming tide of pain, but rather a faint echo of pain that she knew should have been all consuming, should have left her shrieking in pain and writhing. She remembered being in the bathroom of Pocket-D, looking forward to her date and reapplying her blue lip gloss carefully after adjusting her bra. There had been a blur behind her in the mirror, and before she could react an agonizing pain had erupted in her lower back. She could remember holding her back and staggering, feeling blood spurt out of the wound and electricity crackle across her fingers. She could remember her own face reflected in the steel mirror, how her face had gone pale and her mouth opened in an O of shock and agony. She could remember how her face dropped as she went to her knees, scalding hot blood rushing across her fingers even as she sent a jolt of high voltage into the wound to cauterize it.
Someone had knocked away her father’s blue beret from here head, grabbing her blue (naturally blue, not dyed) hair and slamming her face first into the sink once, twice, three times. She remembered everything going gray, being unable to scream around the mouthful of blood and shattered teeth. She remembered how the hand had tossed her to the side, releasing hair to let her fall on her side and curl into a ball of agony. She remembered the heavy boot thudding into her back, and how she had been sucked down by the darkness.
Now the darkness was warm, and she felt like she was floating up and up, supported on warm pillows, becoming slowly aware of her steady, gentle breathing, aware of the slow thudding of her own heartbeat. As she ascended she could hear the steady beeping of machinery, and could feel the electricity humming through the electrical devices around her. She could sense the massive amount of power surrounding her, from the bright throbbing spark of zero-point energy sources, to the massive restrained fury of fusion generators, to the more familiar wall socket AC.
Finally her eyes flickered open, and she could see brushed steel paneling making up the ceiling, the lights recessed and providing gentle white light. She could feel the warm cotton blanket covering her skin, and suddenly realized she was completely naked, as well as strapped down to the gurney she was laying on.
She screamed, trying to sit up, but the drugs robbed her muscles of the strength she might have otherwise had. She tried to fight, but felt a heavy, callused hand drop onto her forehead.
“Easy, little one.” She recognized the voice, and felt her blood run cold.
Code Vatnya. Supervillain, mad scientist, roboticist, cyberneticist, genius.
Killer.
She started to struggle again, and the hand began to gentle caress her forehead.
“If I met you harm, little one, I could have carried out such ill intentions any time in the last three days you have lain here.” The man’s voice told her, and she was surprised at the warmth in the tone. “You were hurt badly, and I did not want to let you regain consciousness until I was sure you weren’t going to die.”
“Die?” She felt herself rasp out the word, and tried to lick her lips with a dry tongue. There was a chuckle, and a hand clad in a fingerless black glove held a small glass with a straw in it out to her. The hand tilted the glass, and the straw bumped against her lips. She opened her mouth, and sucked on the straw, feeling a shiver of delight as cool juice flooded into her mouth. She sucked on it greedily for a moment, and the straw was pulled away while she was still savoring the taste and drinking as much as she could.
“Easy, easy, little one.” Vatnya chuckled, and she whined slightly as the straw was taken away. “You’ll get sick. Your stomach and bowel were nicked when you were stabbed.”
“Who… who did it?” She asked, her voice still raspy.
“I don’t know. I found you in the Rikti War Zone, you were in a body bag and some Rikti were carrying you away.” Vatnya laughed. “They were quite insistent that you accompany them back to their ship. Something about mounting your skull on a wall in return for your part in the mothership assault.”
“Bastards.” She managed to say. She was aware her words were slurred, but felt helpless to fix it.
“I’m going to release the painkillers. You’ll be dizzy for a moment, but these aren’t chemicals.” Vatnya told her, releasing her forehead and cocking his wrists. She could see the glimmer of light and realized it was a holographic keyboard. “Nanites are much more effective, and don’t run the risk of killing you by depressing your breathing or heart, as well as telling me if you are in danger.”
She felt the fog recede, and the pain came back. Not the horrible all consuming pain she expected, but rather like someone was pinching the skin at the small of her back. What she thought of as restraints suddenly vanished, and she realized that nanites must have paralyzed her from the neck down.
“Go ahead and sit up, most of the damage should be repaired.” Vatnya told her. “Unlike the movies, though, this isn’t instantaneous, it still takes the nanites a couple of days to safely make repairs.”
She sat up slowly, feeling her back twinge sharply, and she reached around and grabbed it. She could feel a thick upraised scar just to the left of her spine and another to the right. She knew enough to know that she should be dead, that she should have bled out.
Remembering the way her mouth had hit the sink, she suddenly let go of the blanket, unconcerned that the blanket fell from her, and felt her front teeth. They were all there, although they felt strange. Rather than being even, they seemed to have tiny points on the top of them.
“I like your smile, so I replaced your teeth. They're implanted vat grown teeth, cloned off of what was left of your own teeth, the nubs will wear away like they did when you first got your adult teeth.” Vatnya said, and she looked over at him, where he was leaning against the brushed steel wall, his arms folded across his chest. He was dressed in old Soviet urban camouflage pants and shirt, black combat boots, and wore a black beret on his head. “How do you feel?”
She reached inside, finding the surge of power deep inside her, and nodded as electricity began to crackle around her.
“Good, actually.” She said. “Can I get off the gurney?”
“Da. Your clothing is in that cabinet. Go ahead and get dressed, I’ll wait outside the room.” Vatnya said, turning away. "Call me if you need assistance."
“Watch me, please.” She asked, and he stopped as suddenly as if he had walked into a brick wall. “After what happened to me, after getting my face smashed up so bad, I need to know someone thinks I’m still pretty.” He turned around, leaning back against the wall and watching as she got up slowly and carefully, retrieved her clothing, and got dressed. She dressed slowly, making a show of it, and watched him out of the corner of her eyes, taking pleasure in the fact that he was obviously attracted to what he saw.
“My father’s beret is missing.” She said sadly when the cabinet was empty. “The bastards who jumped me must have taken it.” She hugged herself tightly then turned to Vatnya, who still stood motionless, although he was smiling.
“Perhaps we will get it back, perhaps we'll pry it from their cold dead fingers.” He mused, pushing himself away from the wall and standing up. She could faintly hear a beeping noise from outside the room, and she watched as Vatnya whirled around and left the room quickly.
Curious, she stepped outside the room and stopped, looking around her in shock. Trophies decorated the walls; weapons taken from defeated foes, souvenirs torn from the bodies of foes. Maps dotted the walls, and she realized as a small icon of a monorail moved across the map that they were real time maps of Paragon City, the Rogue Isles, and places she had no clue about. Damaged robots lined the walls, some looking as if they could still move under their own power, some so battered they could barely be recognized as the robotic drones of Code Vatnya. A small spider-like robot scurried across the ceiling, and she wondered what tasks it performed.
“…keys in a garbage can. Hurry.” She heard Vatnya say as she slowly walked toward the sound of his voice. She came into the room in time to see him punch in a few commands on another virtual keyboard. A holographic screen blossomed to life in front of him, a satellite view of Skyway City that quickly zoomed in on a few areas.
She watched in fascination as several apartment buildings were highlighted, and he punched in still more commands, including what looked to her to be a sixteen digit password. She knew he was a supervillain, but the aura that surrounded him was attractive to her, as she found herself admiring the way he seemed to consider dozens of options and either reject or implement in them almost instantly.
“Damn. Only a few in the area. Well, it’ll have to do.” She heard him mutter. More typing on the holographic keyboard, and the schematics for several robots appeared, lines of code scrolling next to them. She could make out such arcane statements as ‘powerplant nominal’, ‘weapon systems online’ and ‘armor integrity at 85% of combat effectiveness’ before the screens vanished and small dots started moving on the map of Skyway City.
“That should even the odds.” He said, and she could hear the satisfaction in his voice.
“What are you doing?” She asked, walking in carefully. Too wide of steps made the scars on her back twinge.
“Sending some backup in for someone.” He said, straightening his hands. The holographic display and keyboard dimmed slightly.
“That’s cool.” She smiled, nodding at the holographic interface.
“That’s a lot of work.” He smiled back as it shimmered and vanished after he waved his hand through them and flicked his wrist.
"It looks different in here." She observed, looking around. Two badly damaged Longbow fliers were suspended from the ceiling on wires, a set of robots she recognised as PPD combat drones hung mournfully against the wall, and a Circle of Thorns Behemoth demon was stuffed and mounted in one corner.
"This is my main hideout. You saw a smaller one, one that I felt that I could lose if the whole thing was nothing more than an attempt to snare a foolish old man into giving up where he was hiding." Code Vatnya smiled, his tone robbing the words of any sting.
“So,” She began, pausing a moment to chew on her lower lip. “Am I your prisoner?”
Code Vatnya laughed, long and loud.
“Are you kidding?” He asked, once he had regained his composure. “You toss around lightning bolts like old ladies toss popcorn to pigeons, and this base is full of stuff that is… sensitive to that kind of stuff.” He gave her a rather frank look, and she felt herself blush. "No more than you were the last time you visited with me."
“So, I can just go?” She asked, half hoping the answer was no. He was twice her age, but something about him intrigued and attracted her.
“Da, you can go.” Code Vatnya said, waving toward a passage with the label “Matter Transporters” with an odd expression.
She took a few steps toward the passage, looking forward to letting her friends know she was still alive, but at the same wanting to stay and explore the base, poke around and learn its secrets.
And spend time with its master.
“Except you might want to consider one little detail.” His voice stopped her.
“What’s that?” She asked, dreading the answer, and feeling a prickling between her shoulderblades. If he chose to shoot her, in her weakened state, she’d never survive.
“We still don’t know who tried to murder Tachyon Hammer, or why.” He reminded her.
She tightened her fist, electricity crackling as it wreathed her forearm and fist.
“No, we don’t know who tried to murder me.”
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
(Author’s Note: The following takes place during Mission 5, Arc: 312961 –The Bounty Hunter’s War)
Betty jumped out of the stolen Arachnos helicopter, hitting the pavement with only a twinge from her damaged knee, rolling forward and coming up with her rifle ready. She could hear the others dropping out of the assault helicopter behind her as she ran forward toward the building.
A squad of uniform clad troopers came running out of the building, but a small tornado summoned up by The October Octogenarian ripped through their ranks, throwing them against the wall and destroying their disciplined formation. Before the troops could get their act back together Inertia Flare and the Male Mantid landed within their lines. Inertia Flare was wrapped in plasma, while the Male Mantid was just plain tough, and both of them shrugged off the panicked weaponsfire from the brightly armored troops. Inertia’s mace swung out, smashing a man to the ground, as a haymaker from the Male Mantid sent one troop at least twenty feet into the air, his head tearing completely off and flying higher than the body.
Betty raised her rifle, triggering the grenade launcher, and put a grenade on the roof, figuring she’d keep any snipers up there more worried about being blown up than putting a bullet through anyone’s head. Colonel Victory sped by her, using his shield to deflect bullets that were aimed at him, with Zuka pounding along next to him. Miss Moral was keeping pace with Betty, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the emerging battlefield with her psychic powers.
Return fire from the windows cratered the pavement around Zuka and Colonel Victory, and while the smaller, living, man rolled out of the way, at least two dozen bullets hit Zuka, who ignored them as if they were insect bites. Betty raised her weapon again and fired a grenade through a window and followed it up by raking a long burst of automatic fire across the windows. Brick and glass shattered, and a man began to scream long, high screams of agony. Betty grinned at the jumped up monkeys screams, rushing forward and hiding behind an APC that was already burning merrily.
Colonel Victory leaned around the corner of the burning vehicle then yanked back, bullets spanging against the vehicle a split second alter, and he swore sulfurously.
“Language, Colonel.” Miss Moral chided gently, kneeling next to him. Betty shook her head at the other woman’s prim tone, smiling at her coolness under fire.
“Zuka, get us closer.” Colonel Victory ordered, and Zuka nodded. Betty watched as the giant undead braced his back against the burning APC, the flames hissing and going out as the energy of undeath leeched the heat from the metal his dead skin touched. His muscles swelled, and Betty grimaced as the burning APC began to scrape toward the front of the building with the scream of tortured metal.
Inertia Flare slammed her mace into the chest of one of the figures, sending him flying back at least ten feet, the man twisting unnaturally as he flew. She could hear the Male Mantid’s slamming into other soldiers behind her, and someone began to scream, the scream moving overhead and trailing off into the distance, and she wondered just how far the guy had flown. A man raised a rifle, but Inertia smashed the weapon to flinders with one blow, then came around and about took his head off with the return stroke. The man next to him managed to trigger a burst, but the copper-jacketed slugs vaporized as they entered Inertia Flare’s plasma shield without harming her. He tried to backpedal, but an overhead swing drove him to the ground, leaving him in convulsions, and she swung around to slam her mace into the ground, throwing the others to the ground.
The scream of metal heralded the burning APC moving forward, and it went suddenly silent as the ground before it was covered with a thick layer of slick ice. A creature made entirely out of ice sprang into existence, rising up from the ice slick, and charging several soldiers with a sword made entirely out of ultra-dense ice.
Betty darted around the corner of the APC, firing her grenade launcher as she went, hitting the door and causing it to vanish in a whirlwind of splinters. Just for good measure she fired another one through the shattered doorway, calling out “Fire in the hole!” for good measure before raking her rifle across the first story windows, blowing them all in in a shower of glass.
“GRENADES!” Colonel Victory bellowed out, and the gathered friends all pulled grenades they’d loaded up with and threw them through the gaping windows. There were more shouts, and the grenades exploded, sending fragments of the building and tatters of cloth flying out the windows.
“Go go go!” Colonel Victory shouted, and the group surged forward, Inertia Flare and the Male Mantid in the lead, followed by Colonel Victory and the October Octogenarian, Miss Moral and Global Betty on their heels, and Zuka bringing up the rear, the fearsome sledgehammer swinging on one massive fist and the ancient tribal shield held tight in the other.
“They’re waiting at the elevator.” Miss Moral said, her face twisting in a grimace. “Their thoughts are digusting.”
Betty grinned a shark’s tooth grin at the other woman, patting the side of her rifle. “Fire should clean those thoughts up.”
The group moved steadily forward, their heads swinging back and forth to check the rooms they passed. Several times Betty stopped to spray the inside of a room, or to fire a grenade into it, just to keep anyone who might be inside of it honest.
Twice they ran into groups of troops who were obviously hurrying toward the front, hoping to reinforce the defeated guard force before the building could be penetrated. Both times Inertia Flare, the Male Mantid, and Colonel Victory pummeled them into submission before Betty could even get a shot off.
The last time, Betty stopped over the prone body of an officer, pointing her weapon at the man’s head.
“You should have stayed in bed, monkey-man.” She said softly.
Before she could pull the trigger, and giant hand wrapped around the barrel and moved it away.
“That is not vengeance.” Zuka rumbled. Betty eyed the massive undead for a moment, then shrugged.
“Whatever.” She said indifferently, and kicked the officer in the face, staring at Zuka defiantly the whole time.
“That will not send his spirit after us for revenge.” Zuka approved.
The group in the elevator started firing as soon as Inertia Flare and the Male Mantid came into sight. The entire corridor seemed full of bullets and laser flashes, but the two waded through the fire as if it was a spring shower. Bullets that hit Inertia Flare just evaporated, while those that hit the Male Mantid flattened against his naturally tough insect carapace.
One of the men desperately triggered a flamethrower, washing it over Inertia Flare, and the diminutive woman began laughing as the flame played over her.
“Are you stupid?” She asked, stopping for a moment and putting a hand on her hip and bounding her mace in the other hand.
The soldiers goggled at the tiny woman, then realized their mistake too late as the Male Mantid pounded into the elevator, followed by Colonel Victory. The insect and the man attacked with a flurry of punches and kicks, one of the men hitting the elevator wall hard enough to dent it.
In seconds they were down, and the group began to drag them out of the elevator.
The Male Mantid was staring mournfully at a cracked plate on his massive arm when Miss Moral moved up next to him, placing her hand gently on the damaged plate. A slight frown of concentration, and she was lit up with a warm green glow, the plate mending instantly.
“Thank you, Miss Moral.” Mantid said, trying to hide his uneasiness at a female touching him.
“Of course.” Miss Moral said, backing up quickly.
“Quit your whining, Big Bug, and gimme a cigar.” Betty laughed, joining the others in the elevator. The Male Mantid nodded and pulled one out of his belt pouch. He used his mandibles to snap the end off, lit it, and handed it to her. Betty took a deep drag off of it as the Male Mantid repeated the process for himself, and blew a cloud of blue smoke out into the elevator. “Thanks, Big Bug.”
“The sign says ‘No Smoking’, Betty.” Miss Moral pointed out.
The Male Mantid reached out one hand and pulled the sign off the wall, crushing it in his fist and dropping it to the floor.
“Better?” Betty asked, smiling.
“Yes, thank you.” Miss Moral answered.
The elevator descended in long silence. Male Mantid and Zuka took up the entire doorway, with Global Betty kneeling between the two of them, her weapon ready.
“Anyone got any gum?” Colonel Victory asked. Everyone checked their pockets real quick and shook their heads. “Damn.”
“Language, Colonel.” Miss Moral chided gently. Betty grinned. From what she had gathered the two had been playing that game for almost a century.
The doors pinged open, and the roar of automatic weapons filled the small space, the bullets shattering against the Male Mantid and evaporating in front of Inertia Flare.
“PLAMSA CANNON!” Betty shouted, spotting the distinctive shape of the heavy weapon. Before anyone could do anything, she triggered the flamethrower on her weapon, sending a long tongue of fire down the hallway. The fire reached out to the crew, who were frantically trying to finish loading the weapon, wrapped around them, and sent them jittering around the hallway in agony. The Male Mantid clapped his hands, extinquishing the fire, but knocking the four men out, as well as sending the weapon spinning away.
“Close one.” Colonel Victory remarked.
“Close only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and tactical nuclear weapons.” Inertia Flare shot back.
The group moved down the hallway until they stopped at a large set of doors.
“Ready?” Colonel Victory asked. Everyone nodded. The hallway was large enough for Zuka, Inertia Flare, and the Male Mantid to stand side by side, and they all cracked their knuckles in unison.
“Steady…” Colonel Victory said.
Betty checked her ammo count, Inertia Flare brought back her mace, Zuka raised his sledgehammer, and the Male Mantid balled one massive fist.
“GO!” He leapt forward, his foot smashing into the door at the same time as Mantid’s fist crashed into it and the two maces slammed into it with a thunderous impact. The door blew inward, bouncing across the floor and scattering a group of troopers who had been waiting with a heavy machinegun pointed at the door. The door left behind twisted and broken bodies, some of which writhed in agony, others that lay too still.
“In the name of Lord Nemesis, kill them!” A man dressed in an archaic uniform shouted, raising a rifle to his shoulder.
The gathered heroes rushed forward and slammed into the automaton forces of the Mad Master of Steam.
No quarter given, no quarter asked.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
(Authors Note: The following takes place during Mission 5, Arc: 312961 The Bounty Hunters War)
Miss Moral put her hands on Inertia Flare's arm, and a warm green glow covered both women for a moment. When it faded, the cuts and gashes Flare had suffered at the hands of the minions of the Mad Master of Steam had faded without even a scar.
"Thanks." Inertia smiled, looking around at everyone and taking stock of how combat effective they appeared.
Zuka was standing stock still, no trace of breathing or heartbeat moving his massive chest, surrounded by the shattered minions of Nemesis. The massive undead showed no trace of having been repeatedly shot by the brass gatling guns as he slowly looked around, his bright glowing red eyes full of restrained malevolence.
Colonel Victory was sitting on the ground, his shield set next to him, massaging his knee and grimacing. Inertia knew that the pain was a phantom ache, not a real injury, since Miss Moral had already laid her hands upon him to quickly heal the injury from where a bullet had gone through his knee.c
October Octogenarian was leaned back against a wall, his face impassive as he read a book that had long ago lost its cover. There was a pattern of frost spreading out from him, but he seemed unaware of it and Inertia grinned. She remembered when her and Jonny had gone to the rest home to see if the old war hero wanted to join them in fighting crime, and how the old gentleman had barely been able to freeze people's feet to the ground due to lack of practice.
Global Betty and Male Mantid were sitting back to back on the floor, Betty checking the action of her rifle, the Male Mantid peeling away a cracked and pale section of chitin off of his leg. Miss Moral's powers caused him to heal up from injuries, but he always ended up with sections of chitin that needed shed. The massive insect warrior held up the strip of old armor, took a couple of puffs off his cigar, and then tossed it away into the pool of oil and shattered brass parts. Global Betty didn't even look up, pulling the magazine from her weapon and examining the ammunition inside. Satisfied with the ammunition, she socketed the magazine back into her weapon, reached around and grabbed the Male Mantid's cigar, took a couple puffs off of it, and handed it back.
"How much longer do you think it will take?" Betty asked, then pitched her voice into an irritating whine. "Geeeeetting booooored."
"Not too much longer, if I'm right." Inertia replied, turning to face the door as Miss Moral smiled and moved over to take another look at Colonel Victory's knee.
"Sending them to Dark Astoria was dangerous, Betty. Are you sure that they will prevail against the spirits that howl in rage and torment?" Zuka intoned, hefting the stained sledgehammer to grab it with both hands. "What makes you think that the abandoned Longbow office would even be in use?"
"I don't tell you how to look all menacing and creepy when you're hanging out in tombs and open graves, don't tell me how to gather information and deploy mercenaries, you cemetery haunting monkey." Betty snarled.
"Zuka, Betty." Miss Moral gently chiding. Both the alien and the undead glanced at one another, then at Miss Moral, and looked slightly ashamed of themselves. Miss Moral looked up, and grimaced. "Someone's arrived on the upper levels." She flushed slightly. "Their thoughts are disgusting and perverse."
"Who are they?" Flare asked, walking over to stand next to the doors. As she moved, flames ignited around her, surrounding her completely.
"Longbow." Miss Moral grimaced. "They think of themselves as Longbow, but they are disgusting, vile creatures."
"Any officers?" Betty asked, standing up and stretching. She took a couple puffs off of the Male Mantid's cigar before handing it back.
"Yes. He's being told that the base in Dark Astoria is being assaulted," Miss Moral answered, her eyes closed and her brow furrowed in concentration. "Still, he's intent on coming in here with his men." She opened her eyes and looked at her companions. "He has orders to kill all of us."
"Let the jumped up monkeys try." Betty grinned, standing in front of the doors with her rifle pointed downward. Flaming droplets fell from the underslung multi-purpose weapon and the faint "hiss" of compressed gas could be heard.
The Male Mantid stepped up next to her, slightly in front of her, shielding her with his own body.
"Here they come." Inertia Flare said, watching the digital readout above the elevator change. She hefted her flanged mace, bringing it back over her shoulder and grinning.
"Are you sure they're Longbow?" Colonel Victory asked. "I mean, why would they come to kill us for taking on Nemesis?"
"Less talking, more fighting, old man." Betty tossed over her shoulder, a vicious gleam in her eyes. Colonel Victory sighed and hefted his shield, moving around to the other side of the elevator while Zuka moved up beside Betty, shielding Miss Moral and October with his massive form.
"Get ready..." Colonel Victory said, watching the numbers slow. Rather than floors, it listed how many seconds it would take for the elevator to travel between the two floors.
"Steady..." The seconds were down to single digits.
"NOW!" The shout was mixed with the ping of the elevator door.
Betty noticed that the uniforms matched and pulled the trigger, filling the elevator full of oxygen enriched kerosine mixed with thermite and hydrogen enriched jet fuel. "Burn, monkeys, burn!" she crowed out.
One man came staggering out of the elevator, his entire uniform, even his flesh, on fire, his hair having exploded into a fiery wreath about his head. Inertia Flare clubbed him down before he could stagger two howling steps, mouthing a prayer for the man's soul.
She'd just gotten her mace back up when a man stepped out of the elevator, surrounded by a soapbubble-like field that pushed the flame away from him. Bright red energy surrounded his fists as he launched himself forward, swinging both fists as he exited the flames.
Before the man's attack could land, Colonel Victory kicked him straight in the side of the head, the old soldier's attack slamming through the bubble to impact on the officer's right cheek. The man still came forward, swinging both fists at Zuka, both blows landing with thunderous crashes.
Zuka stared down at the man, cocking his head curiously.
"Take this one alive!" Miss Moral called out, pointing at the force field protected officer as he launched another attack on the massive undead. She furrowed her brow, her eyes glowing slightly, and the officer stopped in mid-attack, his hands hanging limply at his sides. As the companions watched, his mouth fell open and a rope of drool began to slowly drop toward the floor.
October clenched a fist and made a jerking motion, and the officer was suddenly encased in ice, a fact he seemed not to notice or care about as he continued drooling.
Miss Moral stepped forward, her hand reaching out to touch the other man's temple. She shuddered and opened her eyes, which were going from the clear ice green of her own eye color to the dark brown of the man's.
"He's Longbow. Trained here in Paragon City, but after that, there's something strange." Miss Moral said softly as the others watched. "His memories show he took part in the assault on the Rogue Isles, that he's been decorated for bravery during the Second Rikti War, but the memories feel strange to me."
"Bring him back to the base." Colonel Victory said. "We'll throw him in a cell for a little while. See if he's willing to talk after a few days in a cell."
* * * * *
Global Betty walked into the meeting room, where everyone was sitting at the huge table emblazoned with the group's logo. She walked with a slight limp, and nodded to everyone as she sat down next to the Male Mantid and stole his cigar for a moment.
"What did your mercenaries find out?" Colonel Victory asked.
"This." Betty said through a cloud of cigar smoke, and tossed a blue beret onto the table. It was slightly scorched, with a blackish bloodstain on the side of it. It was old, battered, and torn.
It was also familiar to everyone at the table.
"You think that our friend in the cell had something to do with Tachyon Hammer's disappearance?" Zuka rumbled, reaching forward to touch the edge of the beret with one massive finger.
"Why else would it have been in the desk in the office of the commander?" Betty asked, handing back the cigar. Zuka's red eyes dimmed slightly, unnoticed by anyone but Miss Moral, who straightened up in her chair and watched the massive undead closely.
"Good point." October acknowledged, shrugging his shoulders. "We all know that she wouldn't that beret out of her hands."
"She has not crossed into the lands of the dead, nor does she stride the gulf between your world and mine." Zuka interrupted, and everyone turned to look at him. "Her soul came close, and had prepared itself for its final journey, but it was called back to her body."
The massive undead leaned back, breaking contact between his black fingernail and the beret, the red fire in his eyes brightening. "She was consumed with vengeance, both when her spirit prepared to journey into the void, and when it was pulled back into her body."
"Tell me that the Empress of Undeath hasn't gained another convert." Inertia Flare grumbled.
"No. Whoever called her back was living, but consumed with vengeance so greatly that I can sense it although both Tachyon Hammer and the one who brought her back from the edge of death are consumed with it." Zuka answered. "The Empress would have let her die, and then trapped her soul at the edge of death, to straddle the void, to serve her will."
Everyone sat back to think on what Zuka had said, Colonel Victory staring at the beret as if willing it to give up its secrets.
"Wait!" Miss Moral cried out, suddenly lunging up in her seat, looking at something that nobody else could see. She backed up, looking between the hallway leading to the rows of teleporters and the hallway leading to the prison cells.
Miss Moral staggered back as the sirens in the teleporter section began howling, blood beginning to drip from her nose. Everyone present with the sole exception of Zuka winced as they felt a pressure begin to exert force on their temples.
"They're killing the prisoner!" Miss Moral cried out. "I can feel them approach."
"Let's go, Big Bug." Global Betty said, jumping to her feet and wincing slightly as she put pressure on her knee. The Male Mantid stood up with her, nodding silently at Inertia, Colonel Victory, and Zuka all stood up.
"Let's go, old friend." Victory said as October stood up and belted his old and worn trenchcoat around him. "We'll secure the prisoner. Miss Moral, are you with us?" The woman nodded, a smear of blood across her upper lip from where she'd tried to wipe the blood away.
Behind Global Betty, Zuka, Inertia Flare, and the Male Mantid headed down hallway toward the teleporters, Zuka and Inertia readying their weapons and the Male Mantid cracking his knuckles. The normal gently yellow light had been replaced by strobing red and blue, and the sound of sirens prevented speech. Global Betty checked her magazine's capacity, making sure that the nanite munitions were ready.
All of the teleporters lit up at once, from Atlas Park to Peregrine Island, even as out of the way places as Dark Astoria, Perez Park, Faultline, and Boomtown. From out of them poured the red and white uniforms of Longbow soldiers, all carrying weapons.
"THIS IS LONGBOW, PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD AND STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" an amplified voice overrode the howling of the sirens. "YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST BY UNITED STATES FEDERAL WARRANT!"
October Octogenarian and Miss Moral exchanged glances as Colonel Victory slowed for a second and stopped next to the supercomputer in the base's CIC.
"Go on, secure the prisoner." Colonel Victory yelled, kicking a chair out of the way and bending over the keyboard. The old man and the young appearing woman continued on, passing by the Longbow fliers in their bays, heading for the prisoner bay.
Miss Moral grunted suddenly, staggering over and putting a hand out on the wall. She grunted again, leaning forward as blood sprayed from her nose, but she waved October forward as she staggered onward.
October moved into the cellblock, the heavy steel doors showing no sign of their Penumbra Council origin. Only one cellblock had a red light above it. A man was screaming, high pitched animalistic screams that bore little in relationship to a human scream. October moved up to the window, pausing before slapping his hand on the ID scanner, and looked in.
The captured Longbow officer was kneeling in the middle of the cell, holding his head with both hands. His eyes were open, bulging out, blood running down his cheeks, mingling with the blood running from his nose, drooling from his wide open mouth, and oozing out from beneath his hands. A reddish black mist was rising off of the man, swirling around him to coalesce above him.
"Oh crap." October said, lunging away from the door. There was an muffled explosion and October turned, waving his hand and covering the door in a thick layer of diamond hard ice.
"Run, old man, run, it will heat your blood and make it all the more sweet." The thing in the cell screeched. Another handwave and the door was coated even thicker as October kicked himself to his feet, running back the way he had came.
He grabbed Miss Moral's elbow, pulling the woman behind him. Miss Moral was mumbling to herself, and October knew it was focusing and centering mantras she used to focus her willpower and mental strength.
Colonel Victory was bent over the keyboard, hammering out instructions. From further down the hallway came the tearing sound of of miniguns, the whoosh of flamethrowers, and the chattering of automatic rifles as the quartet faced off against the invading Longbow troops.
"Shut down the teleporters!" October yelled, "And flush Cell-B7 with spectral corrosive gas."
"I'm working on it. We've got at least three hackers who have done an on-site hard-patch into the system, and there were six outside hackers." Colonel Victory snarled back. "They're protecting the software for the transporters and blocking everything I try to do."
Miss Moral looked around, spotting a display case holding weapons, and staggered over to it, shattering it with one gloved fist. She pulled out a short stubby rifle that the group had taken from a defeated Arachnos hit squad, flipped the selector switch, and stared at the two men grimly as the weapon powered up with a hissing snarl.
"Gentlemen, it is time to defend ourselves."
Global Betty walked into the meeting room, where everyone was sitting at the huge table emblazoned with the group's logo. She walked with a slight limp, and nodded to everyone as she sat down next to the Male Mantid and stole his cigar for a moment.
"What did your mercenaries find out?" Colonel Victory asked.
"This." Betty said through a cloud of cigar smoke, and tossed a blue beret onto the table. It was slightly scorched, with a blackish bloodstain on the side of it. It was old, battered, and torn.
It was also familiar to everyone at the table.
"You think that our friend in the cell had something to do with Tachyon Hammer's disappearance?" Zuka rumbled, reaching forward to touch the edge of the beret with one massive finger.
"Why else would it have been in the desk in the office of the commander?" Betty asked, handing back the cigar. Zuka's red eyes dimmed slightly, unnoticed by anyone but Miss Moral, who straightened up in her chair and watched the massive undead closely.
"Good point." October acknowledged, shrugging his shoulders. "We all know that she wouldn't that beret out of her hands."
"She has not crossed into the lands of the dead, nor does she stride the gulf between your world and mine." Zuka interrupted, and everyone turned to look at him. "Her soul came close, and had prepared itself for its final journey, but it was called back to her body."
The massive undead leaned back, breaking contact between his black fingernail and the beret, the red fire in his eyes brightening. "She was consumed with vengeance, both when her spirit prepared to journey into the void, and when it was pulled back into her body."
"Tell me that the Empress of Undeath hasn't gained another convert." Inertia Flare grumbled.
"No. Whoever called her back was living, but consumed with vengeance so greatly that I can sense it although both Tachyon Hammer and the one who brought her back from the edge of death are consumed with it." Zuka answered. "The Empress would have let her die, and then trapped her soul at the edge of death, to straddle the void, to serve her will."
Everyone sat back to think on what Zuka had said, Colonel Victory staring at the beret as if willing it to give up its secrets.
"Wait!" Miss Moral cried out, suddenly lunging up in her seat, looking at something that nobody else could see. She backed up, looking between the hallway leading to the rows of teleporters and the hallway leading to the prison cells.
Miss Moral staggered back as the sirens in the teleporter section began howling, blood beginning to drip from her nose. Everyone present with the sole exception of Zuka winced as they felt a pressure begin to exert force on their temples.
"They're killing the prisoner!" Miss Moral cried out. "I can feel them approach."
"Let's go, Big Bug." Global Betty said, jumping to her feet and wincing slightly as she put pressure on her knee. The Male Mantid stood up with her, nodding silently at Inertia, Colonel Victory, and Zuka all stood up.
"Let's go, old friend." Victory said as October stood up and belted his old and worn trenchcoat around him. "We'll secure the prisoner. Miss Moral, are you with us?" The woman nodded, a smear of blood across her upper lip from where she'd tried to wipe the blood away.
Behind Global Betty, Zuka, Inertia Flare, and the Male Mantid headed down hallway toward the teleporters, Zuka and Inertia readying their weapons and the Male Mantid cracking his knuckles. The normal gently yellow light had been replaced by strobing red and blue, and the sound of sirens prevented speech. Global Betty checked her magazine's capacity, making sure that the nanite munitions were ready.
All of the teleporters lit up at once, from Atlas Park to Peregrine Island, even as out of the way places as Dark Astoria, Perez Park, Faultline, and Boomtown. From out of them poured the red and white uniforms of Longbow soldiers, all carrying weapons.
"THIS IS LONGBOW, PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD AND STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" an amplified voice overrode the howling of the sirens. "YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST BY UNITED STATES FEDERAL WARRANT!"
October Octogenarian and Miss Moral exchanged glances as Colonel Victory slowed for a second and stopped next to the supercomputer in the base's CIC.
"Go on, secure the prisoner." Colonel Victory yelled, kicking a chair out of the way and bending over the keyboard. The old man and the young appearing woman continued on, passing by the Longbow fliers in their bays, heading for the prisoner bay.
Miss Moral grunted suddenly, staggering over and putting a hand out on the wall. She grunted again, leaning forward as blood sprayed from her nose, but she waved October forward as she staggered onward.
October moved into the cellblock, the heavy steel doors showing no sign of their Penumbra Council origin. Only one cellblock had a red light above it. A man was screaming, high pitched animalistic screams that bore little in relationship to a human scream. October moved up to the window, pausing before slapping his hand on the ID scanner, and looked in.
The captured Longbow officer was kneeling in the middle of the cell, holding his head with both hands. His eyes were open, bulging out, blood running down his cheeks, mingling with the blood running from his nose, drooling from his wide open mouth, and oozing out from beneath his hands. A reddish black mist was rising off of the man, swirling around him to coalesce above him.
"Oh crap." October said, lunging away from the door. There was an muffled explosion and October turned, waving his hand and covering the door in a thick layer of diamond hard ice.
"Run, old man, run, it will heat your blood and make it all the more sweet." The thing in the cell screeched. Another handwave and the door was coated even thicker as October kicked himself to his feet, running back the way he had came.
He grabbed Miss Moral's elbow, pulling the woman behind him. Miss Moral was mumbling to herself, and October knew it was focusing and centering mantras she used to focus her willpower and mental strength.
Colonel Victory was bent over the keyboard, hammering out instructions. From further down the hallway came the tearing sound of of miniguns, the whoosh of flamethrowers, and the chattering of automatic rifles as the quartet faced off against the invading Longbow troops.
"Shut down the teleporters!" October yelled, "And flush Cell-B7 with spectral corrosive gas."
"I'm working on it. We've got at least three hackers who have done an on-site hard-patch into the system, and there were six outside hackers." Colonel Victory snarled back. "They're protecting the software for the transporters and blocking everything I try to do."
Miss Moral looked around, spotting a display case holding weapons, and staggered over to it, shattering it with one gloved fist. She pulled out a short stubby rifle that the group had taken from a defeated Arachnos hit squad, flipped the selector switch, and stared at the two men grimly as the weapon powered up with a hissing snarl.
"Gentlemen, it is time to defend ourselves."
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
"What is that thing?" Tachyon Hammer asked, standing next to a massive foot made of high tech alloys. She looked up, and up, and up, staring at a massive head the size of a police van at the top of the massive robot.
"Built by the Crey a year or so back, some kind of massive Crey Asault Titan, probably had an impressive name." Code Vatnya answered from the work table where he was barely visible. Tachyon Hammer could hear and feel the massive amount of electrical current moving through the heavy cables to the tools he was using. She could feel him wielding vast power to create whatever it was he was working on, but it wasn't the power that gave her such a thrill, not the war machines that seemed to fill the base.
His mind. Tachyon Hammer thought to herself, reaching out her fingers and touching the massive robot. It was dead to her senses, missing the tingling flow that filled the mechanical and living. The spark of electricity that existed from the most complex machine to the tiniest microbe.
"It's dead, isn't it?" She asked, running her fingers across the thick dust.
"The reactor was flawed." Vatnya said, disgust in his voice. "They used enriched plutonium for the reactor, a standard fission reactor." There was another flare of energy, and Tachyon Hammer felt a tug right below her bellybutton. "I thought about putting a new reactor into it, but it's tactically and strategically useless."
Tachyon Hammer nodded, thinking about how every hero and villain in Paragon City and the Rogue Isles would swarm on the thing if it showed up, painted in Code Vatnya's colors.
"There, finished." Vatnya said, standing up. Tachyon Hammer turned around in time to see the older man roll his head, his neck crackling. When he finished, he held up a small chunk of metal that Tachyon could feel the power flowing through, feel it being altered and changed. "It's for you."
"For me?" Tachyon followed Vatnya's motions and fell in step behind the Mad Russian.
"If you want it." Vatnya said, shaking his head. "It will hurt, and hurt a lot, but it might give you an edge, allow you to do something aside from rattling around this place." He stopped and pointed at the gurney that Tachyon Hammer had become more than a bit familiar with as of late.
Tach grinned at the older man, moving over and hopping up on the gurney.
"So what does it do?" Tach asked once the Mad Russian had made two trips back to his lab.
"You have a pretty unique bio-electric signature, and your powers are seriously amplified compared to a lot electricity tossers I've, ahem, examined." Vatnya held up a syringe, which looked to Tach to be full of mercury. "This first, full of pico-bots that will carry out each of the stages. The next one to coat the nerve bundles you use to overcharge your bio-electricity." He held up another one, full of a glowing blue light. "This one will make the final changes, kill the pico-bots, and you'll be ready for the last part."
"What is that?"
Vatnya held up the small metallic object the size of a hockey puck and smiled. "This is the last part. I'll place this in your chest, connect it to the leads that the pico-bots will have manfactured, close you up, and that part will be done."
"And then what happens?" Tach asked, her voice quavering slightly as Vatnya lifted up a sharp, menacing looking object. Vatnya looked at her, looked at the object he held and tightened his grip. Plasma crackled between two leads, and Vatnya looked at her, his eye shadowed. Tach gasped, cringing away slightly, fear filling her as she remembered that above all, the Mad Russian was wanted for human experimentation.
He suddenly laughed and set the device on another table tray. "It's an actuator spacer, it's used to adjust just how much play an armor or cybernetic actuator has."
Tach laughed, the tension broken, and laid back.
"Will it hurt?" She asked.
"Oh yes. I won't lie to you, little one." Vatnya replied, picking up a hypodermic that looked like sterile water. "It's going to hurt a lot. I can't put you under, like I did while you were healing, I need your nervous system operating."
Tach hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt and pushed it down, wiggling out of the tight leather mini-skirt and thong at the same time. Vatnya turned around, holding out his hand so that Tach could put each piece of clothing in his hand.
Skirt, thong, leather and lace leggings, leather jacket, and finally a set of wrist band she wore for decoration.
"Careful with those bracers, I got them at the wedding." Tach said as Vatnya placed each piece carefully on a table. "OK, I'm ready."
Vatnya turned around to look at the young woman. She was bare again, defenseless as before, but this time she was awake and no blood surrounded her. She was biting her lip, watching him with wide eyes as he reached forward and put one callused hand on her forehead.
"Look at me, little one." Vatnya ordered, and Tach felt her eyes drawn up to his dark and blazing eye. She looked at the crow's feet around his visible eye, the old thick scars emerging from under the eyepatch, and lined and scarred forehead. She felt a pinch as he injected something into the meet of her left arm. "Keep looking at me, little one." He reached over and grabbed the second needle.
Unseen, the thick hypodermic raised up and slammed down into her chest, the needle penetrating all the way to the hilt. Tach screamed as the needle penetrated her heart and the autoinjector did its work, flooding the mercury-like fluid into the penetrated chamber. Tach's hands fluttered up, grabbing at the collar of the man's urban combat blouse as the needle was yanked free and the beating of her heart seemed to spread fire through her veins.
She screamed, and kept screaming, and all Vatnya did was keep her head still with one hand and hold her other hand firmly with his other. Fire coursed through her veins, her skin felt as if it had coated in a Vahzilok acid spray, and she could feel the electrical current that she channeled surging through her body.
Vatnya gritted his teeth as the voltage washed through him, holding the young woman down as she screamed, keeping her as still as possible as she began to convulse. He let go of her hand and grabbed the final injection, stabbing it into her side, penetrating clear to her liver, where he injected the fluid.
Her screams redoubled and the man fought to hold her onto table, until finally she went slack, passing out from the pain.
The Mad Russian turned from the young woman and picked up a scalpel, looking at the skin between her breasts.
"I'm sorry, little one, but his is going to hurt terribly." He told her, reaching out and cocking his wrist in mid-air. A keyboard made of light appeared in mid-air, and he hit a few keys, then uncocked his wrist, allowing the keyboard to vanish.
"You may scream." He told her, turning on the mono-molecular scalpel and lowering the tip toward her skin. "There is no shame."
* * * * *
"It hurts." The whisper was barely audible, but Code Vatnya's eyes snapped wide open all the same, and he pushed himself out of the chair and moved next to Tach. She groped around for a second, finally grabbing his hand and pulling it up.
"I know it does. The pain is not real, it is just your memory of it." He reassured her. "There is nothing wrong with you, but your body remembers what I did." She coughed, a dry hacking cough, and looked up at him.
"Get up, little one. You'll see." He pulled her into a sitting position and shook her hand free.
Gingerly, as if she expected the pain to suddenly return, she swung her bare legs over the side and slid down onto the floor, wincing as her bare feet hit the cold tile. Reflex made her bring up her electrical shields, and she screamed as the pink and purple electricity arced between her fingers.
"Easy, little one." Vatnya said as Tach stared at the purple and pink arcs. "I thought you might like the color."
Tach looked up the villain, who was smiling gently and looking down at her.
"All my powers?" She stammered, wreathing her fists in electricity. Rather than the bluish white snarl of electricity, it was bright pink with a core of bright purple. She looked at Vatnya, who nodded.
"For me?" She asked, looking back at the energy crackling around her hand.
"Whole new bio-electric signature even when you aren't using your powers, your powers have a new unique signature, and I'm pretty sure not even Positron's vaunted inventions can track you." Vatnya smiled.
Tach smiled as she began to understand exactly what all of it meant.
"So now we look for whoever murdered me." She smiled, completely unconcerned that with the exception of the crackling electricity, she was completely naked.
Vatnya smiled at the statement and nodded, hefting his old battered plasma rifle.
"It hurts." The whisper was barely audible, but Code Vatnya's eyes snapped wide open all the same, and he pushed himself out of the chair and moved next to Tach. She groped around for a second, finally grabbing his hand and pulling it up.
"I know it does. The pain is not real, it is just your memory of it." He reassured her. "There is nothing wrong with you, but your body remembers what I did." She coughed, a dry hacking cough, and looked up at him.
"Get up, little one. You'll see." He pulled her into a sitting position and shook her hand free.
Gingerly, as if she expected the pain to suddenly return, she swung her bare legs over the side and slid down onto the floor, wincing as her bare feet hit the cold tile. Reflex made her bring up her electrical shields, and she screamed as the pink and purple electricity arced between her fingers.
"Easy, little one." Vatnya said as Tach stared at the purple and pink arcs. "I thought you might like the color."
Tach looked up the villain, who was smiling gently and looking down at her.
"All my powers?" She stammered, wreathing her fists in electricity. Rather than the bluish white snarl of electricity, it was bright pink with a core of bright purple. She looked at Vatnya, who nodded.
"For me?" She asked, looking back at the energy crackling around her hand.
"Whole new bio-electric signature even when you aren't using your powers, your powers have a new unique signature, and I'm pretty sure not even Positron's vaunted inventions can track you." Vatnya smiled.
Tach smiled as she began to understand exactly what all of it meant.
"So now we look for whoever murdered me." She smiled, completely unconcerned that with the exception of the crackling electricity, she was completely naked.
Vatnya smiled at the statement and nodded, hefting his old battered plasma rifle.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
"I AM TINY AND FULL OF DEATH!" Inertia Flare bellowed over the din of battle. She slammed her mace into the titanium/vanadium alloy floor plates, the shockwave sending the Longbow troops around her falling to the floor. The Male Mantid stomped his foot, sending Longbow flying, and Zuka swept his sledgehammer in a wide arc, sending the Longbow stumbling back.
Flame washed over her and she just laughed, the fire from the muzzle of the Longbow flamethrower just fed her flames further, sending other Longbow that had been rushing forward cringing back cursing and shielding their faces from the heat.
Betty leapt up into the air, a sword made of fire erupting from her fist, her rifle falling to hang on the sling. She spun in mid air, and crashed down, a ring of fire erupting around her. Longbow screamed, and her high pitched laughter could be heard from within the ring of fire.
"The raid teleporter, get us to the raid teleporter!" Inertia hollered over the din, blood spraying across her shields as Betty buttstroked a man in the face, sending teeth and blood across the fight.
"It doesn't work any more! That Arachnos virus shut down everyone's raid capability last year!" Mantid shouted back.
An explosion rocked the base as the heavy duty blast door that sealed the entrance of the base from the outside world launched itself from its frame in a cloud of ferrocrete dust and smashed against the far wall, obliterating trophies and memorabilia gathered over a century.
Colonel Victory looked up from the computer at the room, where Longbow troops were advancing through the cloud of dust and stepped back from the keyboard, lifting up the rifle that Miss Moral had handed to him before collapsing. October Octogenarian had her in a fireman's carry, a Rikti plasma rifle in his off hand.
"So long, Shrapnel." October said, hefting the rifle and triggering a shot into the front of the computer. Flames and sparks shot out, and October triggered another pair of shots into the computer, then let the rifle fall on its sling.
"Hurry up, Miles." Colonel Victory said, levelling the Arachnos submachinegun and triggering bursts into the Longbow troops that were flooding into the entryway to the base. October nodded and reached into a pocket, pulling out a Rikti plasma grenade. He armed it and threw it into the blown open section of the computer.
"Fire in the hole!" October yelled, turning and running away from the entry room. Colonel Victory kept pace, not bothering to aim, just doing the old "infantry spray and pray" behind him to keep the Longbow honest. Bullets flew by the trio, and the sound of several miniguns beginning to wind up.
October turned the corner, almost slipping on the polished tile, and jogged into the salvage storage room, while Colonel Victory crouched at the edge of the hallway, firing short accurate bursts at the figures moving toward him.
The Rikti plasma grenade detonated with bright green flash that sent liquefied shrapnel across the Longbow troops that had advanced into the room like a shotgun, sending them screaming to the floor. Colonel Victory swapped out magazines quickly, sending a couple more bursts into the troops flooding into the base, and glanced behind him. October had nearly cleared the storage bins, and was moving through the personnel quarters.
The old soldier pulled a munition out of his pocket, slapping it against the wall, flipping back the safety cover, and pressing the red button twice. The munition beeped twice, and Colonel Victory skipped backwards, turning as he moved, and chased after October.
"What do you think, old friend?" Victory asked, catching up to October in the room they jokingly called Trophy Room Two, where he had laid Miss Moral on the table and moved over to another trophy case.
"We're trapped. We're outgunned." October smashed in the top of the case with the butt of the plasma weapon and reached inside with his off hand. He tossed Colonel Victory something metal and glittering, and reached back in.
Colonel Victory looked in his hand, where a pair of pins made up of a screaming eagle holding onto a branch lay, gleaming and polished in the light.
"We hold until relieved." October said, his hands dropping from where he'd just finished pinning the oak leaves of a Major on his collar. He picked up Miss Moral and nodded at one of the air vents near the floor.
"On it." Victory said, moving toward it. October concentrated, and the storage room filled with a thin patina of slick ice. A nod at the opening, and it filled with solid ice as shadows moved across the opening of the storage room.
"Hurry." Major Frost said as a muffled explosion could be heard.
"Almost there." Colonel Victory said, pulling the grate away. "Got it."
Major Frost moved over and laid Miss Moral down on the floor, grabbing a gas mask off of a trophy mannequin and wrapping it onto the unconscious woman's face. Colonel Victory grabbed a psychic dampener, twisted it so that the red lights came on, and shoved it down the front of her costume. Finally October Octogenarian grabbed his old World War II costume from the case and shoved it into the vent.
"That's the best we can do for her." Frost said, and Victory nodded. The pushed her into the vent, following her with Colonel Victory's old World War II costume.
Together they grabbed a heavy display case, containing the wreckage of a Zues Titan Robot, and manhandled it until it covered the vent. There was the faint sound of gunfire, and cracks appeared in the massive sheet of ice.
Colonel Victory grabbed the table and flipped it over while October started loading display weapons and tossing them behind the table.
"They're almost in, Major." Victory said, snapping the bolt shut on the cheap knockoff submachinegun they'd taken off of a villain named Frostfire.
"Let them come." October said, crouching down and picking up a stubby assault rifle and checking the chamber. It was loaded, and October grinned at his long time friend as he summoned up a creature made entirely of ice and had it crouch next to the door. The ice cracked, and chunks began falling from it. The two men could see the ice thinning, and the glare of flamethrowers.
"Every inch in blood, brother." Colonel Victory said, holding out a balled fist.
"Every inch in blood, brother." Major Frost replied, making a fist and tapping it on the top of Victory's.
With a grinding roar, the ice collapsed, and there was no more time for words.
Global Betty staggered forward when the butt of the rifle slammed into the back of her head, but she muted the blow by rolling forward around her rifle, coming up on one knee and triggering her flamethrower and washing it across the thighs of the troops surrounding her.
"Betty! Come on!" Inertia bellowed over the din, swinging her mace and smashing a green skinned Longbow Warden into the floor. She could see the purple skinned woman through the crowd, see her smiling as she raised the weapon and pushed it into the stomach of another Warden and pull the trigger, sending the 12 gauge shotgun round through the Warden.
"Someone has to set the raid transporter!" Betty yelled, turning on her knee and cocking the shotgun again. She turned and shot another Longbow in the stomach, blood splashing back onto her face.
"No!" Inertia Flare yelled, and felt a large hand grab her collar, yanking her backwards.
"You cannot save her, the void, it calls her." Zuka's voice was the sound of iron plates clanging together.
Betty reached the raid transporter control panel, slamming her hand against it.
"Big Bug, give me numbers!" She shouted out, Swaying, but not going down as another rifle butt slammed into her lower back.
Male Mantid stepped off the transporter pad, clapping his hands together and sending Longbow staggering back, holding their ears and screaming. He was shouting random numbers as he moved forward, his fists pounding. Inertia Flare struggled, kicking, but Zuka held her off the floor, robbing her of her strength.
"No! No no no NO!" Inertia screamed as she felt the transporter fire up. "Mantid, come back!"
The world vanished in blackness and pain for Inertia Flare.
Global Betty smashed the butt of her rifle into the control panel and turned around, narrowly avoiding a fist aimed at her head, and turned around in time to see the Male Mantid smash both fists into the jaw of a green skinned Longbow Warden, sending the Warden stumbling back with a shattered jaw.
Betty triggered her flamethrower and washed the flame over the Longbow between her and Male Mantid, holding down the trigger even as the weapon sputtered and then just hissed impotently without a drop of flame coming out. The Longbow had stumbled back, and two stomping steps took Male Mantid next to Global Betty.
Gunfire erupted somewhere deeper in the base, along with an explosion, and the Male Mantid stepped up next to Global Betty, turned around, and faced the gathered Longbow. Betty reached up and grabbed the cigar out of Mantid's mandibles, taking a puff off of it and blowing it at the gathering Longbow.
"Just like old times, eh, Big Bug?"
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
Tachyon Hammer struck hard, sweating from trying to contain her lightning bursts, to let them flow no further than just outside her skin. Her wrist was slapped to the side, deflecting her punch, and a leather covered fist smashed into the side of her jaw. She hadn't even seen it coming, and the brutal blow spun her around and left her sprawled on the mat. She sensed more than saw the combat boot coming down on her chest, and managed to roll clear, coming up, weaving more out of her swimming head than any intent. She managed to block the kick, but barely, and the power of it still rocked her backwards despite her crossarm block. She shook her head, clearing away the fuzziness, and moved to the left, trying to get on her opponent's blind side, and nearly moved into the kick that would have taken her head off.
She skipped back, but her opponent came in hard and fast with a flurry of strikes that left her dazed and disoriented, too out of it to block the followup kick which hit her in the chin. She knew she had been lifted up in the air, but didn't remember landing. Somehow she'd gone from being upright to laying on her back on the mat, with Code Vatnya, still dressed in Urban Battle Dress Uniform, standing over her, leaning down to offer her a hand. She accepted it with a groan, and felt herself being pulled to her feet past the dizziness that suddenly overwhelmed her.
"For someone who likes to get in and use her fists, you aren't too good at this." Vatnya remarked, his smile taking the sting out of the words.
"I usually don't spend this much time on my back unless it's Friday or Saturday night." Tach smiled back, wiping the blood from a split lip. "I've fought Crey, Malta, and all kinds of bad guys, but where did you get those moves?"
"It's Systema, well, actually, it's Systema Rukopashnii Boi, which basically means system of hand to hand combat." Vatnya told her, walking off the mat to pick up a towel.
"Who teaches that?" Tach asked, grabbing the towel out of mid-air and wiping her face with it.
"The Russians." He almost spit. "It was developed by the Soviet Union to offset American Special Forces fighting styles, and taught almost exclusively to Spetsnaz until Gorbachev and his cursed glasnost."
Tach noticed the fire in the older man's eyes, and felt a surge of physical attraction to him again.
What is it about him? He's a supervillain, and I'm supposed to be a hero. None of the other villains I ever ran into in Pocket-D had whatever it is he has. she thought, tossing the towel back.
"Bring up your shielding again." Vatnya said, giving himself a shake and bringing him back from whatever dark thoughts had been trying to consume him. Tach nodded, concentrating and feeling the electricity surge inside of her. Where normally she'd release it into powerful bolts for offense, she was concentrating and keeping it inside, using it to deflect or even negate attacks on her.
"Defend yourself." The Mad Russian ordered, stepping onto the mat. No bow, no warning of any type except for he'd crossed into the red circle. Still, Tach wasn't waiting for him to act first, and moved in by leaping up into the air, electricity crackling around her closed her fists. She didn't plan on striking the Russian, but rather the ground in front of him.
The kick took her straight in the stomach and to Tach it felt like his boot had gone clear through her. Still, she went limp to rob the kick of as much power as she could, and grabbed the Russian's leg right above the knee, channeling the power meant for the strike into the man.
She expected Vatnya to get flung away from her by the power she channeled into him, not for him to bend his knee and drop down, driving the knee into her chest, slamming her breath from her. Black dots danced in her vision as she grabbed his ankle and twisted, all thoughts of offense fleeing from her. Vatnya spun off of her, going with the ankle movement, and she barely got her arm in the way of her other foot, lashing out at her face. Only half conscious, she arched her back as the current exploded out around her, electricity crackling across the ground. Vatnya rolled away, kicking at her side until she let go. Tach rolled over and came up, blocking another kick and moving in, forcing Vatnya to enter the field of electricity she kept around her.
She pressed the attack, her head starting to clear, but the old Russian either blocked or rolled with every blow.
How can he be so fast? Tach wondered as he weaved away from an electricity charged fist. For a split second Tach thought that was it, but instead he grabbed her wrist and somehow she found herself on the mat again, with the black dots back again, and her electrical field winked out as her concentration wavered. He dropped on her chest, and a hard fist stopped a bare inch from her exposed throat.
"Point." Vatnya said, rolling off of her and standing up. "I think that's enough for the day." Tach nodded, rolling over on her hands and knees and then standing up. Her nose was leaking blood, and her split lip was throbbing. She could feel that her eye was swelling up, and the fact that Vatnya looked fresh as when they had started only irritated her more.
"Go strip down and lay on the table, I want to take a good look at you and make sure nothing got damaged." Vatnya ordered, and Tach nodded before following his instructions.
She'd been able to deflect or destroy incoming bullets, shield herself against energy weapons, and even deflect the majority of super powers that were aimed against her, but the hand to hand combat had shown that she had a long way to go.
She stripped off her clothing, wincing several times as bruised muscles complained. She felt like at least one rib was cracked, but there was a strange tingling she'd never felt before surrounding the area. She touched her split lip, feeling that the swelling was already going down and that the split itself was gummy and tingling.
The gurney blankets were warm, a far cry from the times she'd ended up in the Paragon City hospital, and she snuggled down into them and waited.
Vatnya's examination was cold, clinical, and dispassionate as he checked the injuries, prodding at her with gloved fingers, then running instruments over her skin. He was completely silent, even during the more invasive parts of the investigation, and his focus made Tach nervous. The only thing he said was to have her change position.
It's like I'm one of his robots. and she shivered at the thought of the Mad Russian converting her into one his fabled "full conversion cyborgs". Code Vatnya took no notice of her discomfort, merely resetting a piece of arcane equipment to retake whatever measurements he was so intent upon.
"All right, get up." He told her. She reached for the leads running from her and he grabbed her wrist. "You're not done, just leave those." She nodded dumbly, getting up and following him over to various exercise equipment. The treadmill, until it was nearly vertical and forcing her to almost sprint to keep up. Weight machines, keeping track of not only how much she could lift at a maximum, but how many reps she could do on the lower rates. Pressor fields where she was forced to move under different gravities. A shock chair where it measured her responses to sudden G shocks. Singularly or repeated, all of it left her sweating and near exhaustion, but still he pushed her.
More. Harder. Faster. All of it delivered in an iron tone that brooked no argument, that did not accept failure or the words "can't" or "won't" as options or replies. Always Code Vatnya seemed to watch both her performance physically and on his monitors with a single hard eye.
A hard electric shock drove her, goaded her, into greater and greater performance. Time after time, just when she felt like she was unable to go a micron further, electricity would course through her, and rather than bringing screaming pain, it seemed to, for lack of a better word, reenergize her.
Several times she was forced through exercise with her nerves on fire and screaming as if she had been coated in acid. Other times the face mask felt as if it wasn't working right and she couldn't breathe.
More. Harder. Faster. Delivered in precise, even tones.
"Enough." She didn't even recognize the word. She knew it meant something, but was unsure what as she struggled to lift a heavy weight in gravity sixty percent greater than she had been born in. She lifted her head, sweat running down her face and blurring her vision, and stared at Code Vatnya with glazed and confused eyes.
The weight suddenly lifted, and she dropped the heavy weights. Standing in front of the Mad Russian and swaying slightly back and forth. Her skin was covered in sweat, and it was dripping off of her. Code Vatnya stepped onto the grav-plate, grabbing her arm and slinging it over his shoulder, and she noticed that she was on his blind side.
"You did good, little one." Vatnya told her, helping her past the bed that several combat robots had carried into the room for her to sleep on. He took her into the shower, walking under the hot water fully clothed, and pulled her under the water.
Tach felt the hot water's needle spray hit her skin, felt the pounding ease at her sore muscles, and started to feel alive again. If any of the people who normally knew her had tried to put her through that kind of pacing, she'd have hit them or just plain left. Instead, she'd done it all, and completely naked at that. The fact that the body that seemed to rob men of their common sense in Pocket-D had seemed to have no effect on Code Vatnya hurt her pride a bit, but any injury done to her ego by his cold dispassionate treatment was salved by the fact she had not collapsed under the tests for the first time since she had woken up as Code Vatnya's "guest".
"Better?" Vatnya asked as she straightened up, dropping his arm from her shoulders.
With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she turned to him and began undoing the buttons of his BDU blouse.
"It will be." She chuckled throatily as the buttons came undone.
* * * * *
Mythus stood in the ruins of the base, walking through the scorched and burnt rubble that his friends had formerly called home. He could feel the impressions of desperation, the faint psychic residue of unbridled aggression, death, and agony that the combatant had left behind.
He toed over a chunk of rubble, seeing a bent and shattered Arachnos assault rifle, with a crushed black gauntlet that still had a stump of burnt and cauterized flesh sticking out of it. Blast patterns on the walls denoted the use of Arachnos energy maces, the bullet holes in the walls were of no use since any rapid fire mortal weapon would make the same patterns. He could see where grenades had gone off, but again, it didn't tell him anything.
He traced the fighting, where the defenders had split up. Someone had not only shot up the supercomputer, but had thrown a grenade into it, destroying the memory cores. The salvage area was completely destroyed, and he kicked aside an ingot of Rikti Alloy that the League of Dark Corners had been experimenting with. Fragments of black armor, and even half an Arachnos helmet were in the wreckage, and there were bloodstains everywhere.
The trophy room was the source of the heaviest fighting. Broken weapons, blood spatters, armor fragments, and a bullet pocked shield gave mute testimony to the ferociousness of the combat.
Sighing, he returned to the entry room, examining the heavy titanium/vanadium alloy door. The breaching charge seemed to be a standard Arachnos heavy assault charge, and Mythus grunted at the evidence as he strode through the room.
Most of the teleporters were wrecked, and the two arcane teleporters crackled with stray magical energy. The raid teleporter looked to have taken the most damage, and the room was full of shards of Arachnos armor, ammunition casings with the symbol of Lord Recluse around the primer, and broken Arachnos weapons.
Mythus knelt down and picked up one of the rifles, examining it closely. It had been shattered, just like all the others, and he looked around carefully, picking up shards of armor. They told the story of a ferocious battle, just like everything else, but to Mythus' practiced eye, they told a story that did not ring true to his senses.
Nowhere did he find evidence of fire use beyond flame throwers or plasma grenades. Global Betty's fire usage may have felt like plasma to mortal, even those mortals who used the arcane, senses, but it was driven by her races innate rage at a universe that had so callously allowed her home planet to be destroyed. He could not sense the rage in the plasma burns and scorchmarks, although he could sense her fury and fierce joy in other places.
Aside from that, he should have been able to sense Inertia Flare's emotions on the broken weapons, her emotions always felt comfortable to Mythus, the joy of a focused warrior that was such a balm to him.
The Male Mantid's emotions were too alien for Mythus to detect, but one thing that was missing was chunks of his exoskeleton. There was insect armor, true, but it was sleek, almost metallic, and Mythus knew that the Male Mantid's armor was pebbly, almost stonelike, rather than the sleek iridescence of most insect.
The biggest part, to Mythus, was that there was not a single cigar butt anywhere. While many would argue that the fighting would have destroyed something as fragile and simple as a cigar butt, Mythus knew better.
Mythus stood up in the wreckage of the League of Dark Corners superbase, golden lightning coruscating around him, and knew that everything around him was little more than lie.
But who was lying, and why?
He was about to leave when he heard a low moan of pain. He cocked his head, extending his supernatural senses, and heard it again, coming from the ventilation system. Curious he bent down and listened closely. It wasn't moaning, but rather weak sobbing, a hopeless sound of a trapped animal that Mythus had heard too many times down the centuries to misunderstand.
Whoever it is, they are alone and close to death. Mythus tapped one finger against the steel, listening closely as it echoed through the ventilation system.
The World War Two trophy room's vent is blocked. he realized, and hurried back to the room, looking around.
The vent at the far side of the room was covered by a shattered trophy case's wreckage, and Mythus knew that the ventilation shaft had been exposed when he had last been in the base, before his fruitless search for Tachyon Hammer's "killers" had taken him all over Paragon City. Mythus flung aside the table that was nearly shot to pieces, then with a heave, tossed aside the wreckage of the trophy case. Immortal fingers grabbed the vent cover and ripped it away, and he bent down to look inside the ductwork.
A costume, singed and damaged, blocked the vent, and Mythus pulled it out of the duct, spotting a pair of purplish pink boots. He grabbed the boots and gently, but firmly, pulled until the owner of the boots slid free of the vent. He reached forward and stripped the gas mask from the face of the person he had just drawn from the ventilation shaft, then leaned back slightly to consider her.
Miss Moral lay on the floor, her lips dry and cracked, her hands moving feebly. She had bled from the ears and nose, and Mythus recognized the signs of psychic damage. He could not sense her, and curious, he bent down and patted her over carefully, finding a metal object the size of a hockey puck stuffed down the front of her outfit.
He recognized it at once. The Psychic Inhibitor Mark III, invented by Positron to help defend against clockwork. Mythus knew it must have hidden her from any psychic sweeps, as well as kept her powers in check.
"Water..." The whisper was almost inaudible, would have been inaudible to those without divinity. Mythus cradled her head with one hand, and tipped his hand forward with the other, clear cool water trickling from his hand and into her mouth. She gulped greedily, and Mythus used it to rinse the soot and blood from her face, to moisten her cracked and bleeding lips.
"More..." she pleaded, her voice almost soundless.
"Nay, brave one. To give thee more would cause grave ill unto thee, and thou art too weak for such to happen without endangering thy life." Mythus told her. Most of his words were wasted, and Miss Moral went limp in his arms.
Mythus looked about the base one last time, then reached backwards in time, back to when he was worshipped by any who wished to prevail in battle, who desired the strength and ferocity to overcome the Picts and the Gauls.
With a flash of golden light, Mythus and Miss Moral vanished.
The tiny spiderbot had lain dormant, simply watching, until the pair vanished. It waited a long moment, then began carefully picking its way through the rubble with the patience of the mechanical. It would find its "mother", link with it, and upload its report, showing everything it had seen.
But there was no hurry for the spiderbot. It had all the time in the world.
Mythus stood in the ruins of the base, walking through the scorched and burnt rubble that his friends had formerly called home. He could feel the impressions of desperation, the faint psychic residue of unbridled aggression, death, and agony that the combatant had left behind.
He toed over a chunk of rubble, seeing a bent and shattered Arachnos assault rifle, with a crushed black gauntlet that still had a stump of burnt and cauterized flesh sticking out of it. Blast patterns on the walls denoted the use of Arachnos energy maces, the bullet holes in the walls were of no use since any rapid fire mortal weapon would make the same patterns. He could see where grenades had gone off, but again, it didn't tell him anything.
He traced the fighting, where the defenders had split up. Someone had not only shot up the supercomputer, but had thrown a grenade into it, destroying the memory cores. The salvage area was completely destroyed, and he kicked aside an ingot of Rikti Alloy that the League of Dark Corners had been experimenting with. Fragments of black armor, and even half an Arachnos helmet were in the wreckage, and there were bloodstains everywhere.
The trophy room was the source of the heaviest fighting. Broken weapons, blood spatters, armor fragments, and a bullet pocked shield gave mute testimony to the ferociousness of the combat.
Sighing, he returned to the entry room, examining the heavy titanium/vanadium alloy door. The breaching charge seemed to be a standard Arachnos heavy assault charge, and Mythus grunted at the evidence as he strode through the room.
Most of the teleporters were wrecked, and the two arcane teleporters crackled with stray magical energy. The raid teleporter looked to have taken the most damage, and the room was full of shards of Arachnos armor, ammunition casings with the symbol of Lord Recluse around the primer, and broken Arachnos weapons.
Mythus knelt down and picked up one of the rifles, examining it closely. It had been shattered, just like all the others, and he looked around carefully, picking up shards of armor. They told the story of a ferocious battle, just like everything else, but to Mythus' practiced eye, they told a story that did not ring true to his senses.
Nowhere did he find evidence of fire use beyond flame throwers or plasma grenades. Global Betty's fire usage may have felt like plasma to mortal, even those mortals who used the arcane, senses, but it was driven by her races innate rage at a universe that had so callously allowed her home planet to be destroyed. He could not sense the rage in the plasma burns and scorchmarks, although he could sense her fury and fierce joy in other places.
Aside from that, he should have been able to sense Inertia Flare's emotions on the broken weapons, her emotions always felt comfortable to Mythus, the joy of a focused warrior that was such a balm to him.
The Male Mantid's emotions were too alien for Mythus to detect, but one thing that was missing was chunks of his exoskeleton. There was insect armor, true, but it was sleek, almost metallic, and Mythus knew that the Male Mantid's armor was pebbly, almost stonelike, rather than the sleek iridescence of most insect.
The biggest part, to Mythus, was that there was not a single cigar butt anywhere. While many would argue that the fighting would have destroyed something as fragile and simple as a cigar butt, Mythus knew better.
Mythus stood up in the wreckage of the League of Dark Corners superbase, golden lightning coruscating around him, and knew that everything around him was little more than lie.
But who was lying, and why?
He was about to leave when he heard a low moan of pain. He cocked his head, extending his supernatural senses, and heard it again, coming from the ventilation system. Curious he bent down and listened closely. It wasn't moaning, but rather weak sobbing, a hopeless sound of a trapped animal that Mythus had heard too many times down the centuries to misunderstand.
Whoever it is, they are alone and close to death. Mythus tapped one finger against the steel, listening closely as it echoed through the ventilation system.
The World War Two trophy room's vent is blocked. he realized, and hurried back to the room, looking around.
The vent at the far side of the room was covered by a shattered trophy case's wreckage, and Mythus knew that the ventilation shaft had been exposed when he had last been in the base, before his fruitless search for Tachyon Hammer's "killers" had taken him all over Paragon City. Mythus flung aside the table that was nearly shot to pieces, then with a heave, tossed aside the wreckage of the trophy case. Immortal fingers grabbed the vent cover and ripped it away, and he bent down to look inside the ductwork.
A costume, singed and damaged, blocked the vent, and Mythus pulled it out of the duct, spotting a pair of purplish pink boots. He grabbed the boots and gently, but firmly, pulled until the owner of the boots slid free of the vent. He reached forward and stripped the gas mask from the face of the person he had just drawn from the ventilation shaft, then leaned back slightly to consider her.
Miss Moral lay on the floor, her lips dry and cracked, her hands moving feebly. She had bled from the ears and nose, and Mythus recognized the signs of psychic damage. He could not sense her, and curious, he bent down and patted her over carefully, finding a metal object the size of a hockey puck stuffed down the front of her outfit.
He recognized it at once. The Psychic Inhibitor Mark III, invented by Positron to help defend against clockwork. Mythus knew it must have hidden her from any psychic sweeps, as well as kept her powers in check.
"Water..." The whisper was almost inaudible, would have been inaudible to those without divinity. Mythus cradled her head with one hand, and tipped his hand forward with the other, clear cool water trickling from his hand and into her mouth. She gulped greedily, and Mythus used it to rinse the soot and blood from her face, to moisten her cracked and bleeding lips.
"More..." she pleaded, her voice almost soundless.
"Nay, brave one. To give thee more would cause grave ill unto thee, and thou art too weak for such to happen without endangering thy life." Mythus told her. Most of his words were wasted, and Miss Moral went limp in his arms.
Mythus looked about the base one last time, then reached backwards in time, back to when he was worshipped by any who wished to prevail in battle, who desired the strength and ferocity to overcome the Picts and the Gauls.
With a flash of golden light, Mythus and Miss Moral vanished.
The tiny spiderbot had lain dormant, simply watching, until the pair vanished. It waited a long moment, then began carefully picking its way through the rubble with the patience of the mechanical. It would find its "mother", link with it, and upload its report, showing everything it had seen.
But there was no hurry for the spiderbot. It had all the time in the world.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
Arachnos Raid LethalBy Lewis Carter
Senior Times Correspondent
ATLAS PARK, CITY HALL, September 1, 2009
Longbow has confirmed that a surprise Arachnos attack has killed four members of the superhero group "League of Dark Corners", based out of Paragon City, three days ago. The famed supergroup is known for their battle against the Fifth Column leader Riechmann in Boomtown last month, as well as having members of the famous Patriot Brigade in their ranks. The supergroup came under fire earlier this year by Longbow supporters for their role in the Vanguard counter-attack against the Rikti mothership.
Longbow representatives state that the exact number of fatalities within the League of Dark Corners is unknown at this time, but have identified several bodies. While Longbow is awaiting notification of next of kin for some deceased members, they have released the names of several casualties.
The Male Mantid, long known superhero often considered a rogue agent by Longbow and Vanguard, as well as being an illegal immigrant to the United States, was confirmed dead. The insect warrior has been wanted in connection of illegal activities for some time, as well as having refused INS warrants for his arrest and demands of some government agencies that he turn himself in. The Male Mantid is most infamous for his spectacular battle with the giant clockwork monster Babbage in Skyway City, which took the lives of over twenty civilians who died during the super-powered battle. Over Longbow protests, his body was seized by the Federal Bureau of Superpowered Affairs.
Global Betty, another illegal immigrant, known bounty hunter who often flaunted the laws in order to "collect" on supervillains, has also been confirmed dead by Longbow. The infamous bounty hunter is well known due to the US military's refusal to turn over her space going vessel to Longbow or Vanguard, as well as her refusal to acknowledge INS warrants for her arrest. Warrants for her arrest had also been sworn out by the Homeland Defense Agency, Superpowered Threats division and the FBI, all of which she refused to acknowledge. In the early hours this morning, her body was seized by the Federal Bureau of Superpowered Affairs.
Colonel Victory, well known hero from both World Wars and the Korean War, was also among the dead. Recently returned from retirement, the US military has refused comment on whether or not he was performing covert operations in Paragon City, and was not available for comment. As our readers know, Colonel Victory was a member of the World War I Patriot Brigade, which fought against the Germans. He leaves behind no survivors, and the military has been unwilling to release any details on what, if any, burial plans are in the works for the legendary hero.
Major Frost, also of the Patriot Brigade in the early part of the 20th Century, was also among the dead. He leaves behind no survivors, and the military has confirmed that he will be buried in Arlington Cemetery later this week.
Statesman himself has announced that the death of the two legendary World War I heroes leaves a stark gap in his life. In an interview with this reporter, Statesman spoke of how both Major Frost and Colonel Victory fought bravely in World War Two, and he considers it more proof of how Arachnos will go to destroy everything good and right in the world. Statesman spoke of how the two elderly men were obviously mentors and advisors to the younger members of the group, not front line combatants, and that he knew both of them personally, having had lunch with Colonel Victory only a few weeks before.
Positron remarked that Major Frost was great influence on his younger life, the famous master of ice and storms had often advised him in troubling times and that Positron considered him a friend, even crafting a set of jet boots to allow Major Frost to fly. Positron also has requested that the flag above Paragon City Hall be lowered to half mast to mark the passing of two elderly heroes who gave so much to not only Paragon City, but to the world. He also remarked that their deaths, which he referred to as "executions", are indicative of what is obviously an escalation of Arachnos' covert operations activities.
Ms. Liberty has commented that the blatant act of terrorism within the Paragon City limits only underscores the dangers that Arachnos represents, and urges city officials to join with her in planning a punitive expedition to those who slew two of Paragon City's own. She stated that "Colonel Victory was instrumental in defeating the Storm Korps, and without Major Frost, Statesman himself might have been killed in the fighting of World War Two. That we allow Arachnos to murder two such heroes without retaliation is a slur upon their memory and bravery! If those two can be felled without any penalty, who could be next?"
City Hall has refused to comment on Ms. Liberty's statement.
An unnamed source close to the investigation has also informed the press on the condition of anonymity that the United States military also siezed the corpse of a large African American male who appeared to have been dead for quite some time, as well as the body of a young woman matching the appearance of Miss Moral. He also confirmed, unofficially, that it appears that the heroine Inertia Flare was either killed or captured in the fighting.
Senior Times Correspondent
ATLAS PARK, CITY HALL, September 1, 2009
Longbow has confirmed that a surprise Arachnos attack has killed four members of the superhero group "League of Dark Corners", based out of Paragon City, three days ago. The famed supergroup is known for their battle against the Fifth Column leader Riechmann in Boomtown last month, as well as having members of the famous Patriot Brigade in their ranks. The supergroup came under fire earlier this year by Longbow supporters for their role in the Vanguard counter-attack against the Rikti mothership.
Longbow representatives state that the exact number of fatalities within the League of Dark Corners is unknown at this time, but have identified several bodies. While Longbow is awaiting notification of next of kin for some deceased members, they have released the names of several casualties.
The Male Mantid, long known superhero often considered a rogue agent by Longbow and Vanguard, as well as being an illegal immigrant to the United States, was confirmed dead. The insect warrior has been wanted in connection of illegal activities for some time, as well as having refused INS warrants for his arrest and demands of some government agencies that he turn himself in. The Male Mantid is most infamous for his spectacular battle with the giant clockwork monster Babbage in Skyway City, which took the lives of over twenty civilians who died during the super-powered battle. Over Longbow protests, his body was seized by the Federal Bureau of Superpowered Affairs.
Global Betty, another illegal immigrant, known bounty hunter who often flaunted the laws in order to "collect" on supervillains, has also been confirmed dead by Longbow. The infamous bounty hunter is well known due to the US military's refusal to turn over her space going vessel to Longbow or Vanguard, as well as her refusal to acknowledge INS warrants for her arrest. Warrants for her arrest had also been sworn out by the Homeland Defense Agency, Superpowered Threats division and the FBI, all of which she refused to acknowledge. In the early hours this morning, her body was seized by the Federal Bureau of Superpowered Affairs.
Colonel Victory, well known hero from both World Wars and the Korean War, was also among the dead. Recently returned from retirement, the US military has refused comment on whether or not he was performing covert operations in Paragon City, and was not available for comment. As our readers know, Colonel Victory was a member of the World War I Patriot Brigade, which fought against the Germans. He leaves behind no survivors, and the military has been unwilling to release any details on what, if any, burial plans are in the works for the legendary hero.
Major Frost, also of the Patriot Brigade in the early part of the 20th Century, was also among the dead. He leaves behind no survivors, and the military has confirmed that he will be buried in Arlington Cemetery later this week.
Statesman himself has announced that the death of the two legendary World War I heroes leaves a stark gap in his life. In an interview with this reporter, Statesman spoke of how both Major Frost and Colonel Victory fought bravely in World War Two, and he considers it more proof of how Arachnos will go to destroy everything good and right in the world. Statesman spoke of how the two elderly men were obviously mentors and advisors to the younger members of the group, not front line combatants, and that he knew both of them personally, having had lunch with Colonel Victory only a few weeks before.
Positron remarked that Major Frost was great influence on his younger life, the famous master of ice and storms had often advised him in troubling times and that Positron considered him a friend, even crafting a set of jet boots to allow Major Frost to fly. Positron also has requested that the flag above Paragon City Hall be lowered to half mast to mark the passing of two elderly heroes who gave so much to not only Paragon City, but to the world. He also remarked that their deaths, which he referred to as "executions", are indicative of what is obviously an escalation of Arachnos' covert operations activities.
Ms. Liberty has commented that the blatant act of terrorism within the Paragon City limits only underscores the dangers that Arachnos represents, and urges city officials to join with her in planning a punitive expedition to those who slew two of Paragon City's own. She stated that "Colonel Victory was instrumental in defeating the Storm Korps, and without Major Frost, Statesman himself might have been killed in the fighting of World War Two. That we allow Arachnos to murder two such heroes without retaliation is a slur upon their memory and bravery! If those two can be felled without any penalty, who could be next?"
City Hall has refused to comment on Ms. Liberty's statement.
An unnamed source close to the investigation has also informed the press on the condition of anonymity that the United States military also siezed the corpse of a large African American male who appeared to have been dead for quite some time, as well as the body of a young woman matching the appearance of Miss Moral. He also confirmed, unofficially, that it appears that the heroine Inertia Flare was either killed or captured in the fighting.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
Vanadium leaned against the grave, swilling on a bottle of beer and waiting. He'd tried hiding out in the Rogue Isles, but Longbow constantly seemed to find out where he was. Paragon City hadn't been any better, with every little old lady and her dog punching the panic button as soon as his battered and damaged armor was spotted, bringing down Longbow and cops in force.
He'd been forced to hide out in Bloody Bay, drinking crap warm beer and hanging out with nothing but broken headstones, plundered crypts, disturbed graves, and Banished Pantheon fanatics to stare at. Luckily one of the Death Shamans had seen reason and sent his undead minions down to the tavern to buy Sinister Vanadium a couple cases of beer in return for not having his head smashed open.
Fog had rolled in about two hours ago, making the graveyard look surreal, almost as if it was a bad movie set, but Vanadium wasn't in the mood to care about the way anything looked, the alcohol in his system doing nothing to dampen the fire inside of him.
Murder. The thought pounded in his head, obliterating thought and demanding he tear the cap off of another bottle of beer and pull down half of it in only a few seconds. It had been bad enough that he had lived with the mental image of some spirit possessed Circle of Thorns fanatic jamming his filthy hands into his sister's chest and tearing out her still beating heart to sacrifice to his pathetic god, but now he knew that it wasn't the Circle of Thorns who had captured her.
The memory of the Longbow troops grabbing his sister and quickly bundling her into a van burned within him, and he was only faintly aware that the nearly empty beer bottle had shattered in his hand.
Van... The words were somehow slurred, almost sibilant, and he knew from long experience that the words were not whispered through the fog, but instead were whispered into his mind.
He still recognized Jon's voice.
"What?" He snarled, not even looking up as he grabbed another beer.
...I brought bear claws...
"Whatever, man." Vanadium said, shaking his head.
The mist swirled, and the Late Gentleman Jonny Blaster emerged to stand in front of Sinister Vanadium, with the slender and horrific figure of Forlorn Waif following him silently. Jonny was carrying a box which had fogged up plastic on the top, while Forlorn Waif was nibbling on a fresh donut.
"New girlfriend?" Vanadium asked. Forlorn Waif made a garbled choking noise, snuggling close to Jonny and rubbing his body suggestively.
...she has shown me the pleasure of the grave, the fires that still warm the ashes... Jonny answered, setting down the box. He opened the top, revealing still warm pastries with white frosting.
"It's OK, you don't have to go into details." Vanadium said, reaching forward and grabbing one of the pastries. Forlorn Waif made the choking sound, black blood dribbling down her chin, and grabbed two of them, one of which she handed to Jonny while making a sound that reminded Vanadium of the mewling of a sick kitten. He turned away from the two as they kissed, Jonny's tongue visible through the hole in the side of Forlorn Waif's face.
I think Longbow killed Miranda. The voice was cold but still caused the fires in Vanadium's soul to roar, the pounding in his head demanding vengeance for his sister as he looked at Jonny, who was eating the pastry. The sight of Forlorn Waif's head turning to face him, the way she cocked her head, and then ran one down her exposed stomach did nothing to Vanadium's rage, and she made another mewling noise and licked her black lips with a gray tongue, looking up at Jonny with a questioning look on her face.
"I've pretty much figured that out too." Vanadium snarled, glaring at Forlorn Waif, who only shivered with a grin and tilted her head to regard him with the blank iron plates that covered her eyes. "It looked like a Circle snatch and grab, except for one little flaw."
Jonny regarded him with cataract covered eyes silently, waiting for Vanadium to continue, and Vanadium suddenly felt sorrow that his friend no longer laughed and made jokes.
Vanadium held up a printout of the image he'd taken from his armor's video combat logs, showing a man's hand clenching a blue cloth. The closeup showed a Longbow Warden's Academy ring plainly. Forlorn Waif growled, and Jonny reached over to caress the back of her neck.
"Yeah, well, I got a look at the guy wearing the ring too." Vanadium grunted, flipping the paper over.
The reaction he got was unexpected as Forlorn Waif snarled like a choking bobcat, lunging at the picture as if by tearing it apart with her bare hands she would kill the source of the picture. Jonny drew back, his hand going to his face, and the pastry dropping to the dirt of the graveyard unnoticed.
Vanadium held perfectly still while Forlorn Waif's jagged and black nails tore the eyes out of the picture, then she faded back, moving to Jonny's side and rubbing his stomach under his shirt, his pastry retrieved from the ground and rubbed against his lips. A wave of cold air washed over Vanadium, and his onboard suit sensors, wired directly into his nervous system, reported a temperature drop of almost five degrees Celsius for a brief moment.
...he is... familiar to us... This time Jonny's voice was cold, and brought an image of a flat lightless void into Vanadium's mind, and he shivered despite himself.
"I thought so. He the one who shot you?" Vanadium asked. Jonny didn't answer, but Forlorn Waif nodded silently. "Yeah, well, he's Longbow all right, but he's been dead about six years. He was killed in Litak, when the insurgents used chemical weapons on the UN forces there."
Forlorn Waif made that choking sound and opened her vest, revealing gray dead flesh beneath. Vanadium could see exposed ribs on the right side, surrounded by gray muscle tissue, clotted black blood, and splinters of bone. She cocked her head and shook her torso, creating an unsettling effect, and Jonny snarled loudly. It took Vanadium a second to realize that the snarl was aimed at him, and Forlorn Waif's smile made him realize that she had deliberately tried to provoke Jonny into jealousy.
"Yeah, I know, the dead don't stay that way." Vanadium said. "Close your shirt." Forlorn Waif shook again, then closed her vest while making that choking noise again.
"Don't worry, Jonny, I'll find this guy, beat out of him what's going on, then I'll kill him." Vanadium said, throwing his beer bottle into the mist. He pushed the rest of his pastry into his mouth as he stood up.
Forlorn Waif blurred into motion, drawing the rusted and notched blade she carried, and rested the tip of it against Vanadium's carotid. Her face was twisted in a savage snarl as she reached forward and snatched the picture from Vanadium's hand. Vanadium held perfectly still until Forlorn Waif stepped back, pushing the picture into the waistband of her skirt.
"Or, I'll just beat the information I want out of him, then leave him for you to kill?" He asked.
Forlorn Waif nodded, sheathing her blade.
Vanadium watched as the two dead moved into the mist, disappearing from sight.
You two can have him. I'll just kill whoever he works for with my bare hands, with or without you. Vanadium thought to himself, sitting back down and cracking open another beer.
Right after I finish this one.
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
AFTER ACTION REPORT
LONGBOW CENTER FOR LESSONS LEARNED
THIS FILE IS RESTRICTED UNDER FEDERAL CODE 821B
Submitted By: Major Dean Hopkins
Investigators:
2LT Reginald Nulette
CPT Linda Juliet
MJR Dean Hopkins
Location: BASE #2193509, Owned by League of Dark Corners, registered supergroup and registered base.
Initial Observations: Base door had been breached by what spectrum and chemical analysis had confirmed to be an Arachnos heavy door breaching charge consistent with REDACTED. Remnants of Arachnos ballistic gel were found along with many fragments of Arachnos armor. The interior of the base had obviously undergone heavy attack.
The entry room showed evidence of heavy fighting, with power use consistent with registered members of the League of Dark Corners and their coalition supergroup Patriot Brigade. REDACTED No human remains were to be seen, although visual evidence of blood loss was visible. Additionally REDACTED
The teleporter chambers leading to REDACTED, as well as the medical bay, showed signs of additional heavy damage, including all of the teleporters having been badly damaged well enough to prevent any usage of the equipment. These rooms contained the deceased bodies of the Male Mantid as well as Global Betty. Both corpses showed evidence of sustained automatic weapons fire. Bodies were collected by REDACTED on request by REDACTED as approved by REDACTED.
The raid teleporter room showed the most damage, with the Arachnos weapons apparently emanating from the vicinity of the raid teleporter due to REDACTED. First appearances suggest that Arachnos troops initially used the raid teleporter to invade the vase, possibly using the REDACTED virus that prevents the raid teleporters from being used normally to remotely activate the platform in order to allow Arachnos troops to invade the base to distract from the main assault on the primary entry door. Within this room was found the bodies of Inertia Flare and Zuka Jilipiza.
The computer room suffered serious destruction REDACTED, and examination and analysis on site showed that the supercomputer array common to advanced bases had been destroyed, although initial survey suggested that a small section of the liquid crystal memory storage array may have been recovered by Arachnos. Security footage had been destroyed, however REDACTED.
The cellblock showed that there had been one prisoner within the cells. It appears that magic had killed the prisoner and converted his body to an undead minion consistent with the power classified as Soul Extraction. No battle damage was apparent within the prison block. Despite the lack of combat damage, the body of Miss Moral was found here, with fatal injuries common to attack by REDACTED undead and psychic attacks.
A set of storage rooms showed heavy damage, and from directional investigation of weapon hits consistent with REDACTED, it appears that at least two members of the League of Dark Corners made their last stand within the trophy room. Shell casings consistent with Arachnos projectile weapons were found in abundance, as well as blast patterns consistent with Arachnos energy maces.
The trophy room showed heavy incoming fire from Arachnos weaponry and REDACTED, as well as what appears to be a standard combat shield employed by multiple registered heroes. The shield REDACTED. In this room was found the bodies of Colonel Victory (See attached file) and October Octogenarian AKA Major Frost. Both men had been killed by sustained automatic weapons fire and REDACTED.
Initial observations suggest that Arachnos forces attacked the base, overwhelming the occupants with superior numbers and REDACTED. Despite the lack of Arachnos bodies, it is a well known fact that Arachnos forces retrieve the bodies of their fallen for purposes REDACTED.
In Depth Investigations
REDACTED
Conclusions
It is the conclusion of the above listed investigators that REDACTED occured, and suggest that Longbow forces be REDACTED in accordance to REDACTED.
LONGBOW CENTER FOR LESSONS LEARNED
THIS FILE IS RESTRICTED UNDER FEDERAL CODE 821B
Submitted By: Major Dean Hopkins
Investigators:
2LT Reginald Nulette
CPT Linda Juliet
MJR Dean Hopkins
Location: BASE #2193509, Owned by League of Dark Corners, registered supergroup and registered base.
Initial Observations: Base door had been breached by what spectrum and chemical analysis had confirmed to be an Arachnos heavy door breaching charge consistent with REDACTED. Remnants of Arachnos ballistic gel were found along with many fragments of Arachnos armor. The interior of the base had obviously undergone heavy attack.
The entry room showed evidence of heavy fighting, with power use consistent with registered members of the League of Dark Corners and their coalition supergroup Patriot Brigade. REDACTED No human remains were to be seen, although visual evidence of blood loss was visible. Additionally REDACTED
The teleporter chambers leading to REDACTED, as well as the medical bay, showed signs of additional heavy damage, including all of the teleporters having been badly damaged well enough to prevent any usage of the equipment. These rooms contained the deceased bodies of the Male Mantid as well as Global Betty. Both corpses showed evidence of sustained automatic weapons fire. Bodies were collected by REDACTED on request by REDACTED as approved by REDACTED.
The raid teleporter room showed the most damage, with the Arachnos weapons apparently emanating from the vicinity of the raid teleporter due to REDACTED. First appearances suggest that Arachnos troops initially used the raid teleporter to invade the vase, possibly using the REDACTED virus that prevents the raid teleporters from being used normally to remotely activate the platform in order to allow Arachnos troops to invade the base to distract from the main assault on the primary entry door. Within this room was found the bodies of Inertia Flare and Zuka Jilipiza.
The computer room suffered serious destruction REDACTED, and examination and analysis on site showed that the supercomputer array common to advanced bases had been destroyed, although initial survey suggested that a small section of the liquid crystal memory storage array may have been recovered by Arachnos. Security footage had been destroyed, however REDACTED.
The cellblock showed that there had been one prisoner within the cells. It appears that magic had killed the prisoner and converted his body to an undead minion consistent with the power classified as Soul Extraction. No battle damage was apparent within the prison block. Despite the lack of combat damage, the body of Miss Moral was found here, with fatal injuries common to attack by REDACTED undead and psychic attacks.
A set of storage rooms showed heavy damage, and from directional investigation of weapon hits consistent with REDACTED, it appears that at least two members of the League of Dark Corners made their last stand within the trophy room. Shell casings consistent with Arachnos projectile weapons were found in abundance, as well as blast patterns consistent with Arachnos energy maces.
The trophy room showed heavy incoming fire from Arachnos weaponry and REDACTED, as well as what appears to be a standard combat shield employed by multiple registered heroes. The shield REDACTED. In this room was found the bodies of Colonel Victory (See attached file) and October Octogenarian AKA Major Frost. Both men had been killed by sustained automatic weapons fire and REDACTED.
Initial observations suggest that Arachnos forces attacked the base, overwhelming the occupants with superior numbers and REDACTED. Despite the lack of Arachnos bodies, it is a well known fact that Arachnos forces retrieve the bodies of their fallen for purposes REDACTED.
In Depth Investigations
REDACTED
Conclusions
It is the conclusion of the above listed investigators that REDACTED occured, and suggest that Longbow forces be REDACTED in accordance to REDACTED.
NOTHING FOLLOWS
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)
The beach was windswept, the sand missing the small bits of litter that most of the gathered people were used to seeing. Gulls cried out overhead, and the surf hissed through the sand as it swept toward the small group and then retreated.
Powerful heroes of Paragon City were gathered, small in number but mighty in reputation, while dyed in the wool villains of the Rogue Isles stood across from the heroes, both sides watching each other carefully.
Sand crunched beneath the armored boots of a well known villain as the red armor clad figure finished picking his way down a trail the led down the cliff and strode across the sand to stand between both groups.
"It is here I should say: Friends, Romans, Metahumans, lend me your ears." The armor clad figure spoke, eliciting chuckles from the gathered heroes and villains at such an obvious pun. "I will spare us all, however, as I can hear well enough." The red armored figure reached up and removed his helmet, revealing an older man with iron gray hair and scars on his face that all gathered knew he had earned on the battlefields of Afghanistan during his home country's invasion of it in the 1980's. He was a relic from an older time, but still respected by all gathered, as he respected them.
"Why have you asked us here, Vatyna?" Mythus asked, stepping forward. He was clad in the light of his near-divinity, wearing the toga and sandals that the locals wore. "I hope you did not call us here for battle, for you gave your word of honor, upon your position as a mortal military commander that we all had surety."
"Be at ease, Mighty Mythus, he's of the old school, he won't break that oath." A fire wrapped hero known as Inertia Flare, answered.
"His questions still stands, Vatnya." The self-styled Crusher of Longbow growled, starting to take a step forward with balled fists. When Vatyna turned his scarred face toward the brutal war criminal and the younger villain stepped back.
"I've asked you here for a simple reason. Here it would be more difficult to spy on what I am about to discuss with you. There is less electronic usage, and many of us would instantly detect it. There are no satellites in the sky to spy upon us to tell others who met with who." Code Vatnya waved his hand at the village that lay behind the cliffs. "I sincerely doubt our unwilling hosts would bother us here, and with the heavy defeat we all gathered together not long ago to hand the Fifth Column their fear of us keeps them from spying on us."
"Cold War paranoia." Miss Moral said, shaking her head. "Seriously, Code, you should seek a professional."
"You say that now, Miss Moral, but listen to my words, and you will hear that I speak no mistruth, and why just my words will put all of you who listen in mortal danger." Code Vatnya told everyone. "If you have armor or cybernetic recorders, you may want to turn them off."
Code Vatnya stared at each hero and villain in turn.
"What I will discuss with you could mean your life if I am right."
There were no scoffing noises by the gathered heroes. The younger ones knew that Code Vatnya was a product of the most paranoid and secretive time in the world's history. That he had grown to adulthood in a nation where he could not speak his mind, and secrets could very well earn him a bullet in the back of the head. Knew that Code Vatnya had spent over a decade in the brutal gulags of Siberia just for being suspected of not doing his best in the Soviet Union's invasion of Afghanistan.
"Walk away now, if you do not want to have everything you know questioned." Code Vatnya warned.
"I'm not going to stay and listen to the paranoid ramblings of a worthless Cold War relic." Thunderheat sneered, turning to walk away.
"It won't save you. You will be killed just for having met with us, nobody will believe you that your head is as empty as your virtue." Vatnya warned.
"Whatever, Grandpa." Thunderheat said.
The beach remained silent for a long moment as everyone gathered watched the impetious hero stomp away, and once he was out of sight, everyone turned back to Code Vatnya as a gull cried above.
"We have all been lied to." Code Vatnya said, his dead eye glinting.
"How so?" The insectiod alien hero Male Mantid asked.
"I have in my possession a recording I came into possession of when I raided a Freedom Phalanx base a year ago." Code Vatnya said, holding out a handful of USB thumb drives. "On these drives is only the data-file, I swear upon my honor that nothing else remains on those drives. Review them, friends, and tell me what you see."
"And for those who have no computers to access these files?" The Male Mantid asked, sweeping his hands down his insect form.
"Tachyon Hammer over there, hiding behind Mythus, can give us all a lightshow." Code Vatnya said, smiling.
The young woman glared at the older man, stepped forward and took one of the USB drives, concentrating on it. Tiny sparks jumped in her hand as she bit the tip of her tongue with even white teeth, and a projection blossomed above her hand.
Everyone present watched silently as the video played, taking in the appearance of Tyrant, the alternate, warped, double of the valiant Statesman, the appearance of a long distance shot of Praetorian Earth Paragon City, and finally of Statesman scoffing at the obvious beauty of the Praetorian version of Paragon City.
"What is the point, old man?" Tachyon Hammer asked, letting the electron cloud disperse.
"Have you faced Tyrant, any of you?" Code Vatnya asked.
The gathered heroes all nodded.
"Have you faced his allies, the Praetorian Earth Freedom Phalanx?"
Again, every hero present nodded.
"Why?" Code Vatnya asked, folding his arms. A long moment of silence followed, the ocean breeze snapping the capes worn by a few of the heroes and villains.
"Tyrant took Statesman prisoner, Portal Corporation asked us to track him down." Mythus said. "I took on the battle because those who are oppressed cry out to me in a multitude of voice, it is my way."
Code Vatnya smiled, and pointed at another hero.
"And you saved him also, correct?"
"Yes. Tyrant had him held captive in a cave system." Inertia Flare murmurred.
"Yet you saved him again when he was a prisoner of Hamidon."
"Yes."
"How many of us have fought in the Rikti War Zone?" Code Vatnya asked. The heroes and the villains had drawn together, absently, listening to the words of the Cold War Super Villain.
"Exactly, all of us. And does anyone here remember what the Dark Watcher wonders?" Code Vatnya asked.
"What does this have to do with Tyrant and Statesman?" Tachyon Hammer asked.
"Bear with me, young one." Code Vatnya soothed her, smiling.
"He does not understand why the Rikti attacked us. He told me that he visited them years ago, and they were a peaceful people." Sinister Vanadium rumbled from behind the faceplate of his helmet.
"Exactly." Code Vatnya smiled. "Did you see how Statesman commented how Praetorian Earth was? How he was all 'looks can be deceiving...' all ominious and stuff?"
The gathered heroes and villains all chuckled at Code Vatnya's imitation of Statesman.
"Then, of course, we see a carefully prepared video footage of Tyrant claiming his empire and powers are boundless, and telling his minion to gather his forces." Code Vatnya continued. "We all know that the only reason you would gather your forces is to prepare to attack or be attacked."
"Yes, we've all heard the rumors that Praetorian Earth is going to take our war with the Rikti as a sign of weakness and possibly launch an assault, which is why Tyrant took Statesman prisoner." Inertia Flare interrupted, shaking her head. "So what, is your news that Tyrant is as evil as Lord Recluse?"
Code Vatnya laughed, then swept his arm out to encompass the horizon where ocean water glittered.
"Yes, Tyrant is going to invade. I find this easy to believe. Do any of you know why?"
"He's evil." The Male Mantid said, crossing his arms. "What other reason does he need?"
"What reason indeed?" Code Vatnya smiled. "Tell me, all of you here took part in Statesman's attempt to invade the Rogue Isles." He pointed at Tachyon Hammer, who was biting her lips and rubbing a scar from an energy blast on her thigh.
"And who was chosen to lead the attack, young one?" Vatnya asked her.
"My friends and I. Us young heroes, Statesman told us how we would engage Lord Recluse's soldiers while he and the rest of Alpha Lance went after Recluse himself." Tachyon Hammer said, shivering. Her eyes became distant, and her face old. "It was a slaughter. Black Scorpain guided the defense, I was hit in the first few minutes and lay on the beach with the rest of Omega Lance. I watched Protonstorm scream, bleed out, and die less than a foot from me. There were explosions, and people screaming, I saw my team leader, Hyperjuice, take repeated hits from Arachnos energy maces, and when he died, he exploded, and his blood and vaporized flesh coated me, in my mouth, in my eyes. Statesman flew over the battle, taunting Recluse, trying to draw him out, while on the beach mines exploded, energy weapons howled, and... and..."
Mythus stepped forward and wrapped one of his massive arms around the small woman, pulling her close, and heroes and villains alike looked away, almost embarrassed, as she clutched Mythus and began to sob.
"Enough, Vatnya!" Mythus roared, hugging the sobbing young hero against him. "Leave her alone, do not take pleasure from her pain, villain."
"You know not what you speak of, Godling." Vatnya sneered. "You see the battle as good versus evil, while Tachyon and I, we share what it means to be thrown into battle as a number. Her beach is my Afghan canyon. Ours is the pain of mortals engaged in battle we do not understand."
Code Vatnya turned to the others.
"Look what Statesman wrought. He and his fabled Freedom Phalanx," the hatred dripped off the words, "Managed to engage Lord Recluse, but to no avail, just like everything Statesman has done. Hundreds of young heroes died on the beach, or were taken prisoner, or so wounded they now sit at the mouths of alleys of King's Row, Mercy Island, Port Oakes, Skyway City, begging for handouts when they could have helped bring the rule of law to the lawless. Legless, blinded, insane, how many of them have been embraced by the Lost? How much potential was wasted on Statesman's valiant assault on the Rogue Isles where he was hailed as a hero for complete and utter failure?"
He turned and glared at all the heroes.
"Every one of you took part in Statesman's invasion of the Rogue Isles, but not one of you have given thought to anything beyond the glory of fighting those who live there. None of you view yourselves for what you truly were, a hostile force engaged in an unprovoked attack upon a soveriegn nation, a force that killed civilians, destroyed lives, and crippled children who were either non-combatants or too young to understand why Statesman had them lead the charge." Vatnya tossed a blue UN Vanguard beret on the ground.
"The UN said nothing about Statesman's invasion of the sovereign nation of the Rogue Isles. We are not part of the United States, we are a nation unto ourselves, yet we were invaded by a hostile power, and not one nation spoke out for us on the floor of the UN." Code Vatnya snarled. "Statesman, who survived the great counter-attack of the First Rikti War. The Great and All Powerful Statesman, who knows what is best."
The heroes looked troubled at Code Vatnya's speech.
"Omega Team, and one of Earth's greatest heroes was lost. Even I, as a young man, idolized Hero One, and when I heard that he had been lost upon an attack on the Rikti Homeworld, while Statesman, ever the serpent, had survived, I knew that he had been betrayed." Code Vatnya continued, his voice hard and cold.
"Who opened the portals? Portal Corporation, an entity founded by one of the top reseachers of who?. Who tells us that the dimensional gateway collapsed? Portal Corporation, the wonderful people who brought us the scourge of Superdyne. The same people who insist that Tyrant took Statesman prisoner, but notice they never said why the portals collapsed, or how Tyrant took Statesman prisoner. The same people who belong to a company founded by the Freedom Phalanx's top researcher. Freedom Phalanx, which is lead by who?
"Statesman. Who if he feels justified in invading another sovereign nation is hailed as a hero as he struts about the ground soaked in the blood of your bright young lights, tatters of their seared and rended flesh clotting the treads of his boots. Whose speech to the masses is crystal clear once the media has removed the screams of pain from the heroes he bravely sent ahead of him into the fray. Who cape snaps and flutters in the breeze, the blood that soaks the ground and covers too many still young bodies digitally removed from it.
"The portal collapses, and Hero One is gone, but Statesman returns. Nothing can be spared to find out what happened to Hero One and Omega Team, but yet we can spare the strength to fight the Preatorians. Statesman can rally together the forces needed to invade the Rogue Isles, yet he cannot rally the resources to find out the fate of a man supposedly his friend?
"If Statesman is so concerned with evil, why does he not look to the evil here, on our world, before turning his eyes toward Praetorian Earth? Why does he not assist us in forcing back the Rikti, in destroying that bedamned ship?
"And how did those Rikti find Earth in the first place?"
"What are you saying?" The Male Mantid asked.
"Yeah, enough rhetoric, spit it out." Inertia Flare said, stepping forward.
"I'm saying that we have been fooled. All of us." Code Vatnya pointed at Sinister Vanadium. "I don't know about you, but in my career working for Recluse, how much villainy did you really accomplish."
"If he's anything like me, he spent most of his time beating up Arachnos." Longbow Crusher grumbled.
"He's right. I seemed to spend more time beating up other villains." Sinister Vanadium agreed.
"And how many of us had to go forward and stop Lord Recluse and Statesman from destroying the world contesting for supremacy?" Code Vatnya asked the assembled villains. "Look at the battlefield nick-named Recluse's Victory. Instead of facing Recluse himself, or bringing Freedom Phalanx into it, he sends young heroes, powerful young heroes, onto that battlefield. And how does it look there, Mythus?"
"Bones lie in the alleys. Corpses of young heroes and villains lie spread everywhere, it is a horror." Mythus said, petting Tachyon Hammer's hair as her sobs began to subside.
"Statesman once again sends the young and foolish, who think there is glory in that madness of unrestrained battle." Code Vatnya agreed. "However, now that you begin to have an inkling of the callous disregard Statesman has for life, follow my logic.
"Every time Statesman was saved by us, he was in Praetorian Earth. The Rikti attacked claiming we attacked them first." Code Vatnya smiled at the others.
"Think about it! Open your mind! Tyrant is not invading us for no reason! Statesman did what he has always done. He invaded Tyrant's world, attempted to put his own morality upon the world, and Tyrant was strong enough to rebuff him.
"So of course, we can expect to see propaganda to rival the Nazis as Statesman whips everyone up into a frenzy. We'll hear how they are evil, how Tyrant is nothing more than just what he has been named by Statesman.
"Notice that, we don't even know his name. Tyrant is what Statesman and Portal Corps call him, probably because it sounds much more fearsome than something like 'Jeff' or 'Robert' when we are warned he is going to invade.
"But he was invaded first. Statesman, who is supposedly oh so uncomprimising in the face of evil but yet lets horrors happen even today, who's puppets voted against UN intervention in what is now the most bloody fighting our world has over seen, now wants us to put a stop to this so called Tyrant.
"And who will lead the attack." Code Vatnya said softly, nodding toward where Mythus was holding Tachyon Hammer.
"The young. Those who might someday attain greatness." Code Vatnya said softly. "The Destined One project of Lord Recluse not only brought people from the Zig, but also raided the hospitals and many illegal detention centers build and staffed by Longbow, freed many young heroes, many of whom their only crime was not registering with the Paragon City metahuman registration center. or presenting themselves to Freedom Corps or Longbow"
"And speaking on Longbow, Inertia Flare, what recently happened?" Code Vatnya asked.
Inertia Flare looked stubborn for a moment, then relented. "Ms. Liberty had decided that Vanguard should come under her authority. She recruited a renegade faction of Vanguard to help her destroy it from within."
"Exactly." Code Vatnya said. "Statesman's little sidekick, leader of the Vindicators, suddenly decided that a United Nations Police Body should be hers to lead.
"Yet nothing happened to her, even when evidence of the whole thing was turned over to the 'proper authorities' since she oh so nicely agreed to stop what she was doing."
Code Vatnya turned and looked at each hero and villain alike.
"Statesman and his allies are acting as a rogue, hostile nations toward the citizenry of this world. If the Soviet Union, the EU, or the United States, hey, if even Pango Pango acted as Statesman and his allies do, there would be UN resolutions to stop them.
"And now, not content to drag us into a war with the Rikti, not content to lead an assault on another soveriegn nation and acting as if the United States of America's military would back him up, he has invaded Praetorian Earth, been forced away, and now we must all live with this newest war of his.
"His valiant Freedom Phalanx is well know for his past deed, for their past heroics, but look at the larger picture. Not once have they helped stopped true tyranny, not once have they helped the millions crying out for help across the world. Yet he will ask all of you to invade another world.
"And what of the fate of Hero One? What will keep Portal Corps from accidently allowing the portals to collapse after so many of the young heroes flock to Praetorian Earth to fight this new 'threat' at Statesman's urging?
"If Statesman will not intervene when metahuman's in that horrific civil war are allowed to throw fire into cities, call down hurricanes on ports, capsize ships, use bolts of power on refugee camps, why, I ask you, would he be willing to go 'free those trapped beneath Tyrant's boot' in another dimension?
"Gentlemen, ladies, both, and neither." Code Vatnya said gravely. "I propose that the true villain may very well be one who struts about in the day.
"I propose that the largest villain, the largest uncharged war criminal is revered thanks to effective propaganda. Assisted by a person who brags about being able to 'ride along' and control other's minds, he has ensured that he has been painted as everyone's savior.
"I, among us, charge Statesman, Freedom Phalanx, the Vindicators, Longbow, and Freedom Corps with crimes against humanity." Code Vatnya growled. "We have only his version of every event. Every person who could speak against his is dead, missing, or discredited.
"I charge Statesman with the unprovoked invasion of Praetorian Earth, of the invasion of soveriegn territory with unprovoked aggression, and I charge him with attempting to circumvent international law and the desires of the appointed body known as the United Nations.
"I name Statesman just as much a traitor as Lord Recluse." Code Vatnya growled.
"And what would you have us do?" Inertia Flare asked, lifting her chin and staring defiantly at Code Vatnya.
"Join me." Code Vatnya said. The surrounding heroes laughed, but a few laughs were weak, and doubt showed in the eyes of hero and villain alike.
"Not a chance." Inertia Flare spit.
"Not in assaulting Statesman. Join me, when the portals to Praetorian Earth are opened and Statesman urges us all to attack their 'unprovoked attack', in exploring Praetorian Earth with an open eye.
"Join me in questioning what we are told. Join me in making your own opinion about Praetorian Earth, about the Rikti War.
"Join me in finding the answers to so many questions." Code Vatnya asked.
Behind him, the sun sank into the ocean.
"I will." Mythus promised in the gathering shadows.
"Do not answer. If I am right, we are all in deadly peril. If I am right, and Statesman discovers that we know he is not the hero everyone assumes, our days may be numbered." Code Vatnya told the others.
"If one of us turns up dead, or missing, then we must all consider the words I have spoken to you." Code Vatnya said.
"I pray they were false. For all our sakes." The Male Mantid said, looking troubled.
"As do I, old foe, as do I."
"If you build it, they will run you over with it."-RPG Designers Mantra
Working on: YotZ Legends: Even Heroes Die (First Round Edit)