General Freedom stood on the top of City Hall, watching the citizens below him, feeling the cooling breeze wash over his body. Inhaling deeply General Freedom closed his eyes as he thought of what he needed to do. As he did so, he heard a muted pop-pop-pop. Snapping open his eyes he sought the source of the sound, after a moment he spotted a group of One-liners with automatic weapons. They were rushing out of a small jewelry store and firing their weapons into the air to scatter the citizens from the sidewalk to make their get away easier. As people scrambled for safety, a black van roared up to the curb and in jumped the One-liners, their guns blazing as they took off down the street, cutting off vehicles and almost running pedestrians over as they make their escape.

Leaping into the air, General Freedom soared after them, his mind racing as he watched the van careen through traffic wildly, weapons out the windows firing at the pursuing police cars that had taken up the chase. The blue energy that surrounded him allowed him to breathe as he accelerated his speed to match that of the van. As he positioned himself over the black vehicle he pondered what to do, the constant gunfire echoed through the streets, mingling with the wail of sirens and screeching tires.

Even as the van began to weave all over the road, General Freedom knew something was wrong, terribly wrong. Accelerating his speed, he tried to catch the black van before it smashed into the light pole. He was too late. Landing near the wrecked vehicle, the man known as General Freedom sprinted to the smoldering remnants. As he reached the side of the broken vehicle, he noted that there was no movement from inside. Grasping the handle of the sliding side door, he yanked but found the door to badly damaged to open.

Snarling, he stood back and stared at the wreck, the blue energies swam around his hands as he stood there, muscles taut and coiled, the sirens wailing behind him as the first responders approached. Pointing a hand at the side door, General Freedom unleashed a small blast, strong enough to punch a hole in door. Stepping forward he yanked on the now loosened door, as it slide off the track and onto the asphalt the bodies of two of the One-liners tumbled out, the ruined faces and broken bodies told him that the accident had damaged them, however the bullet holes in their faces told him what had killed them.

"What the hell?" James said as he knelt near the bodies, glancing inside he knew the fate of the rest of them, with a savage snort, he was getting ready to launch himself skyward when he noted an odd-looking coin had tumbled from the pocket of one of them. Picking up the coin, he examined it, a gold coin with an odd symbol on it; it looked like the sacred eye of Egypt, the Utchat. Tucking the item into his belt, General Freedom stood and turned to face the officers who had arrived.

Walking away from the wreck he looked at the closest officer, and said gravelly, "They are dead, all of them." That caused the officer to stop and stare at the wreck, then at General Freedom, who had launched himself skyward in a blue blaze.

As the crowd watched the mayhem that had occurred, the destruction of the van and the deaths of the One-liner gang members gave a solitary figure standing a distance away a feeling of anger. The figure, mostly likely male by the bulk and stance, shrugged deeper into the long coat that surrounded the form. The hat pulled low shaded the eyes, and what eyes they are. Gleaming green with odd slits, similar to that of a cat, shook his head. Exhaling slightly, allowing the sharpened canine teeth to glint wickedly in the light, the figure turned and stared walking towards the subway.

As the figure walked along, it withdrew a gloved hand from a pocket and started flipping a coin, the gleam from the coin and the size was enough to cause some on the street to become startled. The man was tossing a gold coin and if once could see it clearly had the Utchat engraved upon it and dyed black.

Walking with an easy gait the figure arrived at the station agent's booth, with a deep voice that held a tint of a growl the figure said, "One please to Juarez Park. Thank you." The figure slipped the agent a few dollars and took the ticket. Mounting the steps towards the platform of the subway, the figure brushed past some people who drew back suddenly as if they had touched some thing hot. Their eyes lingering on the massive form that made its way slowly towards the arriving train.

Morgan Halloran was not happy. Not only was she still trying to shake off a virus, but a client had repeatedly requested that she come to this particular café, just off Remaeus Park. Morgan has refused point blank the first six or seven times, but when he threatened to pull her payment, well, she had no choice. Bills had to be paid, and jobs were become scarce--so called Heroes and Villains seemed to be using less middle men nowadays.

The whole of the women's bathroom was somewhat grimy, with tacky pink wallpaper and blue and white lino, lifting at the corners and ripped in several parts, exposing the cold grey concrete below. The stalls were painted a light purple, but the paint was peeling away to reveal various other colors beneath. Apparently, the doors were used as a sort of message system, with various threats to the various gangs and heroes, and how 'Mariia woz 'er 2kii10 luvin' Jac 4eva never.' The sinks were a dingy white, and the mirrors were covered in dirt and old make-up, with fluorescent lights hanging above them.

Morgan fixed the black scarf around the lower part of her face, checking it in the mirror, and adjusting it a little. She didn't trust this man very much, especially if he wanted to meet in such a dump as this. Then again, the whole city was turning into a dump. CyCL0ne sighed as she stepped into the seedy diner, spotting her client perched nervously on a bar stool, his eyes flickering around the room as he twitched, seemingly eager to leave before he'd arrived. CyCL0nE crossed over beside him, producing an envelope from her shoulder bag, and placing it on the counter in front of her. The man made a grab for it, but Morgan pulled it just out of his reach calmly. There was a loud beep, followed by a vibrating noise, which almost sent the jumpy male flying off his seat. Glancing at the smartly dressed woman beside him, he removed his mobile from his pocket, and opened the message.

CAREFUL NOW. WE HAD AN AGREEMENT. CASH FIRST, THEN INFO.
The man glanced at Morgan, then at the phone, before slowly, and shakily, pulling a gun quietly from his coat pocket. Morgan rolled her eyes.
FINE. I'LL LEAVE YOU HEAR TO CONSIDER IT.
The man looked confused for a moment, but yelped as he felt his weapon being ripped from his hand, and the bars of the metal stools tying themselves around his ankles.
Morgan stood up easily, and went to head back outside, she was missing out on some action involving the pests that were the one-liners. This she could not miss.

General Freedom stood and looked down at the number of cars responding to some incident. Glancing in the direction of the racing column of lights and sirens, he paused. Perhaps he should go and see what the fuss was. However, the niggling thought that the coin was more than a coin stuck with him. It was tough being a hero, many of the other heroes worked with him, but none seemed eager to form friendships with the costumed man. A wane smile crossed his lips, he had heard it all, the too dorky costume comments to the mentioning that he represented a time that no longer existed.

Bowing his head, General Freedom pursed his lips a moment as he stared at the coin. Tucking it away again he allowed the blue zero-point energies to wash over his body, as the shield enveloped his body, he launched himself skyward in a wide loop that carried him over the train station then towards the line of lights.


At the Industrial Diamond Exchange the Technocracy soldiers took up positions of cover and fired at the police and heroes that they saw. The leader tapped his mic and spoke rapidly, "Unit Delta under attack, we need extraction!"

After a moment there came a reply, "Grab the package and be ready."

"Roger that!" After a moment the leader moved back towards the diamonds, the barrage laid down by the other soldiers filled the air as the plasma burst rocked the streets. Glancing down at the data pad he had he continued to look for the batch number of the diamonds he needed.
Outside the sounds of sirens filled the air as the police began responding. However the screech of tires from another direction could also be heard as two more SUV's filled with technocrat troopers in their power armor and carrying plasma rifles arrived. The eight soldiers tumbled out of their vehicles forming a semi-circle around the entrance of the IDE ready to repel the police or heroes if they should interfere.

Titan smashed the fountain and then spun around with his column wrecking trees and knocking a hot dog vending cart into the air. The cart flew in the air and toward a girl sitting on a bench leisurely. As it came about 5 ft from hitting her it stopped in midair. Jace hovered down his hand held out. The cart spun around in the air and flew out quickly at Titan hitting him in the back of the head. Knocking him forward but not off his feet as it exploded from the propane tank inside of it. Jace landed and then looked at the girl sitting. "You might want to be leaving now" Jace walked over to Titan and looked up at him as he turned around swinging his column. Jace flipped back and onto the column as he swung it over his head. Jace stood on the column looking at Titan as he looked around confused. Jace formed a mental knife and threw it at the back of his head. It stuck in and exploded knocking him forward again. Titan turned around quickly and saw Jace. "And who might ya be ya little gnat hmm?" Jace flew into the air his arms crossed. "My name is X Factor and im the one here to stop you. Unfortunately for you." Titan roared as he headed to Jace. He ran full on into a psychic wall Jace had set up. Titan teetered and finally fell over. Jace allowed himself a small smile as he floated down and entered Titans mind to better fight him and then got ready for him to get up.

Qix - Special guest star. Address unknown.

Damn! Missed him again. Seems I'm always a step behind. Despite her frustration, she laughs at the irony of her being a step behind anyone, let alone this mysterious man in black as people call him. "Who's he think he is anyway? Johnny Cash?" She laughs even harder at this and while it feels a bit irreverent after what she just witnessed of the scene in front of the Roleplay City University Credit Union, laughter, especially after seeing something like that, feels good. This is the fifth time now that she's gotten to the scene just after he's left, and it's the fifth time that no matter how fast she's moved through the streets, no matter how systematic she's been, there's simply been no sign of him. That's not counting the knives, of course. And the blood. And bodies. There's always bodies. A couple for the morgue and a bunch for the ICU. She's seen enough of the violent side of this city not to be shaken easily, but there's something about this.....this.....this..... She's not quite sure just what the hell this is, but it's gotten inside her head.

"C'mon, girl, settle down, and think this through." Truth be told though, that's not her long suit. Action, that's what she's about. And movement. Her foot has been tapping again, quite the little chorus of percussive beats on the floor of her apartment. Good thing the couple downstairs are out working or they'd be banging on the pipes for me stop. Moving and action, however, have gotten her nowhere so far and that means she'll need to sit here with no lights and no power and no TV and no internet and think this through. "Dammit!"

Each time it's been exactly the same. There is some type of gang activity and he shows up, before anyone else knows about it - before the police, before any of Roleplay City's heroes and in the place of any of the usual enforcers that the larger gangs had been employing to mark their territory. They say he never misses with his knives and she's beginning to believe it - only gang members are ever hit no matter how many others might be around and there's never a knife found anyplace but in a person. That's why I hate thinking about stuff like this, there's just something about a thought like this that makes a girl - or anyone normal for that matter - just plain uncomfortable. "And he's always so damn calm about it all they say. The blood and the violence are one thing, but how can anyone be that damn calm about something like this?" Listening to the radio calls of the emergency units has been doing her no good. He's always gone before they show up. Blood and bodies, the dead and the bleeding and a handful of throwing knives, that's all he leaves behind. And balls - super balls of all things - this time he left super balls.

"I don't even want to know what they were for," she says quietly and shakes her head.

She's heard from some of the city's other heroes that the bigger gangs seem to have other interests standing behind them, interests with resources and power at their disposal. Only someone who has connections, good connections - better connections than any cop or hero she knows of - with the streets could show up and disappear like he does. Finding this guy, whoever he is..... "Be careful what you wish for, girl."

Finding this guy, though, might be the key to learning just who is standing behind the gangs.

Her foot's still tapping and her restlessness is building and the blackout is calling in its own way. He's out there somewhere tonight, that's a given. Maybe she'll find him. Maybe not. But all hell's got be getting ready to break loose and she needs to be out there.....

General Freedom stopped the street lights flickered again. This was not right, something was happening, something that caused the hairs on his nape to stiffen. The swirl of blue energies washed over his body. This incident was not just a heist, it was a distraction, glancing at all the police and emergency personnel, the blue clad hero exhaled softly. What ever was to happen next would be bad.


Dr. Wolfram and the Hall of Heroes-

Even as the lights died, the black clad man was moving, a swell of psi-energy welled around him before slamming full bore into the heavy doors leading into the hall. The explosion of debris showered the police officers and the young heroes in a hall of dust and splintered metal flake. Spotting some people in the haze as they recovered Dr. Wolfram smiled wickedly as he unleashed a torrent of force bolts into the helpless victims. Each one lifted with immense force and dashed against the far wall. A sickening thud accompanied each as a few left trails of blood sliding down the once pristine walls.

As a young woman, gaudily dressed in a brilliant yellow costume slumped to the floor, Wolfram was already moving with a deliberate ease through the complex, finding the secured elevator he tapped in a memorized code. After a moment the doors opened. With a last glance around the man, whistled his familiar haunting tune as he stepped inside. A few minutes later he was staring at a massive metal cage, grinning he focused beams of psi-energy, slamming them into the black lattice work. Under the immense pressure the steel relented and twisted away, leaving an opening for Wolfram to squeeze through.

Pausing he oriented himself before proceeding to the artifacts room. Testing the handle he was saddened to see it was unlocked. Stepping inside he rummaged through the room before finding the case he sought. Hefting it he grunted as the weight surprised him. Wheeling the man known as Dr. Wolfram quickly made his way out and on to the street. Glancing around he spotted no one. Placing a hand on the case again he smiled. It wasn’t often that he would experience the sweet pleasure of defeating the heroes. Narrowing his eyes he frowned, yet this victory wasn’t his, at least not his alone. Someone else had planned this, had the resources and the moxie to pull this off and all the great Dr. Wolfram would be was a bag man. Clenching a fist, a bitter taste filled his mouth. Before he could do anything a shadow fell across his body, and an expansive smiled greeted him.

“You have our package?” purred the bulk before him, Dr. Wolfram nodded hesitantly, he was a little fearful of this mysterious man. It was the same fear that gripped him when he faced General Freedom, a fear he hated. “Yes. However may I ask why you…or should I say our wonderful employer wants this item. Last time I check it could only be wielded by one man and he died.”

There was a pregnant pause as the bulky figure peered down, “My dear Doctor, that is none of your concern, I believe if you check your account the sum of five million has been deposited in the manner you specified. Now may I have the Ankh?” Occasionally a man has choices in his life where he makes a stand. These are pivotal moments in a life, moments where the entire makeup of a life is altered. This was one such moment for Dr. Wolfram, yet as much as he wanted to make that stand. To say no and take the Ankh for himself he knew he would not. For all his power and cruelty he was still a petty and fearful man. Nodding he handed the case over and exhaled as the moment passed.

“We’ll be in touch; you have proven to be a good asset.” purred the bulky shadow as he walked away into the gloom leaving the doctor alone with his thoughts.

Morgan felt pain. Pain that ran through every single nerve in her system. She wanted to open her mouth to scream, but found she didn't have the energy to do so. Even breathing was draining. She tried to reach outwards with her mind, looking for something to interact with, a phone, a monitor, anything that could make noise or display something on a screen. She could felt them, but she was too exhausted to do anything with them. She felt the machines disappear from her grasp, and muttering about power failures, and then something about breathing.
The girl felt her mind slide, and she blacked out again.

"Morgan? Morgan, come on! You're shutting down, you're stronger than this!"

A vaguely familiar voice awoke Cyclone from her slumber. She felt like rolling back over, and going back to sleep, but there was something about that voice, something urgent, real. What did they know about her shutting down? She was curious underneath the sleepiness, and tried to fight off the drowsiness.

"Heart rate's increasing. BP is rising-- She's fighting back." A strange woman's voice spoke. Morgan wondered what the hell she was on about. Her heart rate was fine.

"Come on Morgan! That a girl!" The familiar voice was excited now. "You've gotten through worse bugs than this!"

Morgan Halloran awoke with a sharp intake of air, shooting upright in the bed. She was covered in wires, and there was some sort of an IV in her arm. Glancing around, in a panicked manner, she noted that despite all this, she wasn't in a hospital ward. Not waiting to look at either the man or woman in the room with her, Morgan ripped the cables free from her body, giving a slight yelp as the needle was yanked straight from her arm. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and prepared herself to sprint out of the room, and find her way back home as soon as possible. She took about three steps before falling down.

A thin, balding man, easily in his thirties or forties, tutted as he went over to his fallen patient. He tried to help her up, but Cyclone reacted to his touch as if it were a hot poker.
"Who the hell are you?" She snarled, using the far wall to hoist herself to her feet again.
The man frowned. "Morgan, don't you remember me?"
"No."
"Just try."
Morgan took a proper look at the man. He certainly looked familiar, and his voice even more so. He pushed his glasses up his nose, and suddenly it clicked.
"Uncle Steve?"
Her father's brother nodded, his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. He had helped them find out about her abilities, and also how to control them--a little. "Well done. You didn't happen to cross the Technocrats, did you Cyclone?"
"I don't think so."
"Turns out you did. That guy you trapped in the café? He was one of them. They thought they were destroying your computer when they sent you that virus."
Whatever color in Morgan's face drained from it. "Tell me what I've missed."
A scruffy looking woman, wearing what looked to be some sort of nurses uniform, stepped out of a corner and gave Morgan a brief description of what had happened. Morgan shook her head in disbelief.
"I need to see one of those bugs. Or I could try to fix the Power. No, I need to get--"

"You need to get some rest." Steve said sternly. "We'll bring you back, but only if you promise to rest up. You are delicate enough, and now if you're getting into trouble with any of the gangs around, you'll need to be working at full capacity."
Morgan nodded slowly, allowing herself to be supported by Steve and the woman as they went outside. She shut her eyes, an effort to stop the media flooding her head. It didn't work very well. One message stood out in particular.
"Somethings going down in the Hall Of Heroes." Morgan hissed.
"You can't help."
"I never said anything about using my cyberpathy, did I?"
"You were referring to your Magnetism. You know better than I do how that'd end up."
Morgan scowled in defeat. She'd be lucky to rise a small lump of metal in this state anyway.
"Just to look, if the cops aren't there, I can get in contact with some of the other Heroes."
Steve looked downwards at his niece. She had that look in her eye, she would go, even if they didn't let her. Better to be there with her than to be worrying about her collapsing under strain. "Quickly then."

Morgan could feel the strength creeping bit by bit back into her body. A crowd was beginning to gather, and the police were doing their best to keep everyone back. Several news crews had arrived not long after Morgan and her uncle had reached the Hall of Heroes. Something didn't sit right with the young Technopath, and it wasn't the savage attack on one of the most important buildings in the city, she knew it.
"I'm going in. Something isn't right." Morgan hissed, "I've learnt to trust my gut on matters like this."
Steve's tone was low and icy. "No, you aren't. You are still weak, you'll be more of a hindrance than a help to the Heroes in there. That gut feeling could easily be a side effect of that attack on you."
"I'm a human super-computer." She growled, "I shut down, I restart again. Maybe not at full capacity, but running fine all the same."
"Prove it. Basic test, send me a text, do something with the spanner in my coat pocket, and your MP3 is in your own pocket. Do something that it can't normally do."
Morgan smiled smugly, but quickly realized that her uncles phone wasn't beeping or vibrating. She couldn't even find the thing, she thought, feeling the color drain from her face. She was disconnected from the internet, and every other wireless connection, that was the reason why she was feeling funny, it had only happened on occasion before. The spanner was only bent a fraction after she'd finished with it, and manipulating hr music player took a lot more energy than she'd anticipated.
"H-how?"
"You're a human super-computer. You shut down, you restart again in Safe Mode. Your body has shut down your abilities to try to stop another attack like that happening again. You are a normal person for a few hours, a civilian. It's not for ever." Steve's voice was again without emotion.
Morgan, in true teenage fashion, spun around and stormed off, knowing her uncle was right. But she was still mad at herself for being so careless, and leaving herself open to this. She slipped off her hoodie, and pulled on her mask, realizing that she'd left her second one behind. Morgan knew she'd looked a lot more professional before, but right now, the black top, dark jeans and hi-top trainers would have to do. It hid her real self, and that was all she needed.

Cyclone pushed her way through the crowd, and past the first few police officers without much hassle. One guard, looking ever so slightly familiar, blocked her way into the building.
"Who do you think you are? We don't let any old person just waltz into a crime scene."
"The name's Cyclone, and guess what bub, I'm on your side."
The man smiled maliciously, bending down slightly so he could look straight into Morgan's eyes. "Cyclone, eh? Sounds familiar, but where's your costume kid?"
Morgan was about to answer, but he continued on. "You're not wearing a costume, because you're not a hero. You're not on my side. But I do believe you're wanted for illegally accessing computer files and bank accounts--"
"I am not!" Cyclone snapped, "I was cleared of those charges, they never found any real evidence against me. You know that. The work I do is completely above board, you should know, I've done stuff for you guys before."
"How do I know you aren't involved in this? If I'm correct, you can manipulate magnetic fields. Therefore, you could easily have caused all of this. I could arrest you here and now."
"I mightn't be a proper hero, but I'd never do something like this. I look up to this place as much as you or anybody else in this city. Now if you excuse me, Officer, I believe you're obstructing me from doing my new assignment--finding the bastards that did this!"
Cyclone pushed him aside, knowing she'd likely have to pay for it later. But right now, she was interested in finding out what had happened inside here.
"Hold on there miss--" Another Officer spoke, blocking Morgan from stepping inside.
"The name's Cyclone, I'm a technical expert. I can sort out the scene footage in half the time it takes the CSIs to do it."
The man looked unsure for a second, but stepped aside. "Watch yourself, it's pretty gruesome inside there."
Morgan nodded, pushing past into the building. She resisted the strong urge to wretch--throwing up wasn't a great idea if your mask covered your mouth, and it didn't look good if half the cops in the building where looking to throw her out.

General Freedom, Clarie, Overload and Cyclone:

Glancing at the girl who entered the room he frowned a moment as she spoke, "The names Cyclone." Morgan stated, remembering where she was, and who she was in the presence of. "Human technical support at your service." Her eyes flicked to Claire, and back to the General. "Is she okay?"

Peering at Claire he pursed his lips, “I don’t know. Technical support? Great can you help Overload? We may have a situation in Freedom Port.” Turning his steely gaze at the young woman at the computer, “I have no idea what you are looking for either. Check the power station, see if you can access their computers and locate any building that has an unnaturally large power drain.” Standing he reached down to the girl, “Can you stand?” He asked his voice soft.

Cyclone nodded as the General asked her for a better image, rapidly hitting several keys on the keyboard, bringing a map of the Port up, and enhancing the camera images. A red dot began flashing on the map as it too, became more defined-- a satellite image. Not live, but it was a good, clear picture none the less. "That," Morgan explained, pointing at the dot, "is where the 911 call originated from. Thought it'd come in handy. I can't see anything else really unusual."

“General Freedom, Titian is on a rampage. Someone cranked his engine and he is heading this way.”
Morgan jumped backwards as the Police jumped in, swearing in several different languages under her breath.
“Ladies can you locate those homeless people and get to them? I am going to deal with Titan. Once I am done I’ll head towards Freedom Port and meet you there. These are dangerous people if you don’t want to go I will understand.”
The General was gone before Morgan could come up with an answer. She frowned in thought for a moment, looking up at the two heroes in the room with her. "Titan goes on rampage a short while after we find out about this guy, Runihira. Sounds a little too... co-incidental, doesn't it?"
Morgan pushed back a few strands of hair, turning back around to the computer screen. "I'm not going to be much use in the docks, but I can't really do much here either. Titan relies a lot on throwing heavy metallic objects, it's something I can use to my advantage. I'll go to back-up the General."