Akiko Bong's Story

"I guess I'll head to the warehouse then, It's not really within my realm of expertise... But I may be the closest thing we've got to a structural engineer." Devon said as he got up to leave, pausing as he passed in front of George. "...Perhaps it's best if you'd allow your researchers take a look at it first, though if they can't get through to it please do return it. I think I have a sure-fire way to crack the puzzle, but it might take quite some time." He said as he gently placed the blueprint orb in front of George on the table. With that said he walked out of the room finalizing his shift into wraith form as he passed the doorway.

---

Arriving at the site of the ruined warehouse Devon noticed he had been beaten to the location not only by Silver Fang, but also by Sairyn's spawn. It seemed they were already processing the scene at least it appeared one of the drones way scanning the area likely trying to create a 3-D render of the debris field. Another had dropped something which appeared to create a holographic overlay of the building prior to it's impromptu demolition.

Taking a look at the holographic overlay he scoured the layout for something which one could feasibly 'accidentally' damage that could bring down a building, but if everything had been built as designed then that would be quite a challenge without some large mechanical equipment and there wasn't any of that sort hiding in the debris field. So that route's pretty much dead on arrival, something or someone deliberately caused this damage.

Taking advantage of his wraith form he flew up his to get a birds eye view of the rubble and a bit better grasp on the bigger picture. Trying to imagine how the walls had come down and where what parts of the roof ended up it was quite clear that this wasn't much of a collapse at all... It almost looked like something ripped the place apart in a fit of rage. The walls were perhaps the most clear sign, parts of them looked almost as if they had been blown up... But without any scorch marks to back that up that looked unlikely... Where other parts of the same wall had simply buckled as the buildings weight overcame their strength.

Devon dropped back down to the earth re-materializing next to Silver Fang careful to not move the debris beneath his feet. "Looking at the rubble I'd wager a guess that this building was manhandled by a brute. I can't see any signs of fire or explosives being used and the damage is too... Random to have been a collapse. Whomever brought this building down wanted it to be destroyed, but at the same time wouldn't have cared about removing any evidence. I mean this took time and effort, emptying a couple gas cans or breaking a gas line and throwing a match would have done the same, faster and cleaner." He said part to inform Silver Fang and part to see if he had overlooked something obvious.

Having left Jemma contained while he went to a meeting felt wrong. He had no idea how long she would be in that weird state and the idea of her coming out of it and freaking out over the sudden containment left a bad taste in his mouth. Whatever was going on, she didn’t seem in control or aware while in that orb, so he had to just pray he got out of this meeting before she came too. He technically was going to be a few minutes late to the meeting since he did still need a quick shower after both his run and spare with Silver Fang. Best not to be smelled from across the room after all.

Alex chose to stand with his back up against the wall, arms crossed. Mostly due to nerves and really not wanting to be addressed directly yet if he could help it. After the last few days it was no secret that Alex had been itching to hear just what George had in store for this group of supers he had gathered together. Reservations aside, the idea of being on a team with little affiliation to the pre established organizations made him a bit more comfortable. The less suits he had to deal with the better.

Aaaaand people started talking about artifacts and time . . . What? That was around the time Alwx started tuning out most of the meeting. He couldn’t help but feel lost and out of place more so than when it was mentioned that the beast from the beach was said to have been a child and from another dimension. Am I the only one here that’s noticing how crazy this all is?

When the conversation started to drift towards the issues involving the Witchfinder Generals Alex couldn’t help feeling relieved. Finally, something I can actually help with. The fact that the investigation was technically under NAHLA jurisdiction didn’t seem to be preventing anyone present from contributing to the investigation either which was a blessing. The memorial was mentioned, but truth be told Alex didn’t feel like he was in a good mood or mindset to participate. He needed something to take his mind off all of . . . This.

Noticing that things were wrapping up, Alex pushed himself off the wall and made his way to leave. ” Well, this was fun and all, but I think I’ll be passing on the memorial for personal reasons. I’m going to go check on Jemma and see what I can do with the Witchfinders business.“

Alex didn’t realize how tense he had been through all that as he walked towards Sairyn’s lab. He had expected to feel his barrier around Jemma to crack or break entirely during the meeting. He hadn’t fortified it too much, which was stupid in hindsight. But there had been next to no feedback the entire time. That could be either good or bad in the next minute. Finding Sai’s lab unlocked, Alex took a deep breath and opened the door. ” Jemma, it’s Alex. Please don’t be freaking out. I’m sorry for bubbling you but you were kinda freaking out and shooting lightning everywhere.“ he slowly entered the room, not knowing what to expect at this point.

Yue tensed as the other team members arrived. Her visible unease was mostly hidden by the suit and mask, though it couldn't quite disguise the subtle shift in body language that suggested she was a little more guarded. Honestly she wasn't expecting anyone else to show up after Sairyn basically told everyone that the investigation was NAHLA jurisdiction... or maybe he meant that he couldn't stop NAHLA HQ from showing up since Yue and he had more or less been reassigned?

The fact that he chose to talk in doublespeak around the rest of the team hadn't gone unnoticed by her, and it left a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite ignore. Regardless, they were there and providing input... Yue mustered up the willpower to activate her external vox and respond... supposing they weren't just thinking aloud or talking to themselves at least.

"Well... I'm pretty sure it was a machine," she said, once everyone had finished speaking. "This damage pattern isn't consistent with 'Brute' involvement," she explained as she walked carefully across the damage towards the street. "This wall was pulled free from the outside, most likely by a winch, and something heavy was parked here," she said, pointing to a spot on the asphalt. With a gesture the holographics highlighted a very slight indentation in the asphalt, like something big had shifted its weight in a trailer.

"Here," She said, highlighting a scuff mark on the street. "Industrial grade tires? Some kind of heavy equipment, though I don't know what kind of vehicle makes tracks like this," she noted, more to herself as she knelt down to take a closer look. After a long moment she highlighted the tracks with holographics. A pair of tracks, oddly spaced and not like a normal car, but like each wheel well had two or more tires in it. Yue stood and moved back towards the broken building, highlighting a handful of barely noticeable metallic scrapes in the rubble as she walked.

"Metallic residue here," she said. "Large vehicle drove through the building, and then pulled the wall down with a winch to collapse it... not necessarily in that order," she mused, tapping a gloved finger against the mask's chin. "Investigator, would you please run a search of multi-track industrial vehicles and try to match the tread pattern?" She asked, turning towards the drone, which was carefully comparing two rocks a short ways down the road.

It gave a decidedly exasperated electronic sigh and flippantly waved an appendage at her; a gesture it had clearly picked up from its creator. The similarity was enough to make her left eye twitch behind her mask. She didn't understand what it said, but the message was clear.

"Why do I have to do everything myself?"

Two more soon joined the warehouse investigation, first a girl Devon was pretty sure he'd last seen on the plane and hadn't actually been showing her face much in the resort and the other being Akiko who had clearly recovered some after their morning escapades though he wasn't sure she should be up and running already given how she had fainted not all that long ago. The both of them brought forward their own considerations. Certainly the witchfinders did employ that drug of theirs to simulate the powers of supers to a degree and they did employ some supers of their own, but there were no traces of their favored salt or fire being used in this location.

Akiko brought forward a couple reasonable theories, certainly if they were ambushed they wouldn't have had the time to use their drugs, as he doubted they ran around with a couple syringes at all times. A distraction would also be a somewhat feasible suggestion, but that didn't feel right with the meticulous flattening of the building.

"This doesn't look like a distraction, a fire or an explosion would have been far more effective as an attention grabber and a timed or remote igniter would certainly allow them to set it all to go whenever they wanted. But if there was any fighting it was too sudden for the Witchfinders to use their drugs or they didn't have any available to them, given that this looks nothing like the diner that got hit with all the salt and fire." He said traversing towards where Silver Fang had gone to investigate a slight displacement in the asphalt light enough that without that holographic overlay it probably wouldn't even been visible.

As Silver Fang traced some marks she noticed towards the building Devon looked closer at the scuffs on the street. "Definitely had two sets of wheels on it's axle, but the prints seem to indicate some rather small wheels as I'm pretty sure I'm looking at the marks of two axles." Devon mused as he made a mental estimation of how big those wheels could have been from the scuffs. "I don't think these scuffs are from whatever tore the building apart, looks like like a trailer... Maybe one you'd carry behind a large pick-up or something."

As he turned his head back towards what once was a building a question popped up in his mind. "But why would you park in front of a door if you're just gonna pull out a wall?" He exclaimed pointing towards the holographic projection of the door. "... Unless wrecking the place is just an afterthought." He theorized walking towards where the door had been, carefully looking at the ground to see if there was any clues left. Which between the rubble and the trash strewn on the ground was harder than expected... At least he didn't think that a snickers bar wrapper was the clue he was looking for.

Carefully pacing back and forth between where once was a door and the tread marks, likely looking like a demented methhead in the process as he muttered about the items that passed in front of his eyes. Then from the corner of his eyes he noticed something out of the ordinary. "Now that's a smoking gun if I ever saw one." He said with some excitement in his voice as he walked to the object in question. Honestly if he hadn't looked at it from that exact angle he probably would have passed it off as a random bit of trash given the falling debris had smashed it up quite a lot, but that was a casing and wherever there are spent casings there almost certainly was a gun being fired at some point.

"Hmm, it's a bit hard to determine with how badly it has been smashed, but that looks like a pistol caliber... 9mm Luger maybe? Odd color casing though." He noted squatting down next to the casing. He wasn't planning on messing with any physical evidence on this site and that bullet casing made it even less appealing to touch anything, especially the casing itself.

As the others began to look for clues, Akiko closed her eyes. She drew in a deep breath and when her eyes opened beneath her mask, they were glowing a bright blue. She could see shapes moving within the warehouse and feel the familiar ache of weariness within her. There was a job to do and the others had concluded a vehicle had been on the premises. They didn't know what kind but perhaps the spirits of the recent dead did. That and the quicker they got this investigation over with, the sooner she could retreat to her room to recover.

"I'll go talk to the witnesses and see if they know what kind of vehicle came through here," Shinigami called out as she walked on over. Only Devon would realize what she meant and Akiko paused, adding to the other two heroes, "I see dead people."

While it wasn't meant to be a joke, Akiko felt that was the best way to describe what she was about to do. Shinigami continued, not paying attention to where she stepped. Not that she needed to as she was still Intangible and thus, there were no footsteps to worry about. The crime scene lay untouched even as she walked right through the rubble of the collapsed building.

Shinigami's gaze was on the hazy neon outlines of the few ghosts, a couple who were muttering as Freischütz had during his pacing. They looked to be in horrible shape and didn't seem aware of her or anything around them. She approached them, inspecting them closely. Their faces never turned towards her. They didn't even move, babbling, eyes distant. Akiko frowned. She had seen spirits like them before. The trauma of their death was too great for them to comprehend. Their only respite would be when their energy dissipated and they "moved on" so to speak. They would hold no answers.

Looking around, Shinigami looked to see if they were all the same. A majority did though there was one who seemed to be looking around, arms out, calling out to the others. He seemed to be growing more frantic as he heard no response from his fellow spirits. When Shinigami called out to him however, he seemed to wish he hadn't been heard at all. His body went rigid and Akiko's eyes widened as she saw a hole at the back of his head.

"Who are you?" he spat suspiciously, turning to face her. There was a slight pause in her movements as she saw the remains of his right eye splattered across his face. The other eye squinted at her and there seemed to be no other wounds on him.

"A bullet to the back of the head," Shinigami said as he winced at her words. "You seemed to have gotten off pretty easy huh."

"No."

Shinigami sighed. He seemed to be insistent on being difficult and was refusing to answer any of her questions. She briefly thought about threatening him, showing him the Witchfinder she had trapped and vowing to do the same to him, but she knew it would only cause him to get even more defensive. He could possibly even try to leave or worse, call her bluff.

He stood there, hands in his ghost pockets, his eyes flickering back to where his former allies screamed or muttered incomprehensibly. He hadn't even tried to leave though. Shinigami knew they could walk around but he seemed rooted to the spot. His face revealed nothing but the frequent looks let her know he was at least somewhat concerned. Whether it was their fates or if he would end up rambling like them, she was unsure of.

"Do you remember, what happened to them?" she asked, turning just enough to where she could still see his face but also look like she was facing the other ghosts. He would only see her head turn, the helmet obscuring her face inside.

"No," he immediatley snapped but his voice softened a little as he added, "I just remember loud noises, like a crash, and next thing I know... I'm like this."

So, the former.

"They're not going to be suffering for long. You might stick around longer than them, going by prior experience," Shinigami said to which the ghost gave her a look for.

"Prior experience? You've seen this before?"

"I'm not freaking out at the sight of you, am I?"

"... No, you're not. Your buddies, they also see us? Or they just think you're crazy and brought you along out of pity?"

"One of them's seen me do this before. The other two, I don't know. They haven't told me to go home yet so I assume they think I'm telling the truth."

"Or they know you're going to get something valuable out of it somehow."

Shinigami paused and smiled. She turned to face the ghost and he looked back at her, peeling his gaze away from a spot a few feet away from them where the ruins of a room entrance stood. His gaze was firmly on her though he seemed to be restraining himself from looking again.

"And what would that be?" she asked as she began to walk over to the entrance. He scowled and ran after her to try to grab her but she was ready this time. She turned invisible and ran forward though the ghost could still see a faint outline in his vision. He tried grabbing her but found nothing but air though he did recoil his hand as she flinched. The pain Shinigami felt wasn't as intense as on the beach however when she was fully tangible.

Inside the ruins of the room was rubble. There were smashed crates and various items scattered across the room. A majority of them had been crushed and there were one or two shell casings about. Devon had already picked up on the bullets and they looked to be about the same as he had described earlier. What did interest her was a crate that had survived partly intact. She looked over and saw more rubble inside. Her eyes scanned for anything she could pick out, debating if she should disturb the contents, when she noticed something different in the corner. There was a small silver circle. Making her gloved fingertips solid again, she carefully extracted the silver lid only to find an intact vial attached. Her gloved hand became tangible and she found her hand closing around the vial. It began squeezing it and Akiko gritted her teeth, forcing her hand to reopen to avoid crushing it.

A feeling of irritation washed over her and Shinigami gently closed her hand over the vial again. This time, her hand cooperated though she found her other arm unresponsive as she tried to dig through the box again. The Witchfinder did let her look over at her ghost friend who had been strangely quiet. He stood stiffly a few feet away from her, feet pressed together. He also looked heavily irritated but did not move forward to stop her. If anything, he seemed like he was waiting for her to leave.

"You done being a thief yet?" he barked at her, arms crossed over his chest. Shinigami chuckled.

"I would be if there wasn't something else you were hiding from me," she said as she got up to approach him.

Nebulae blinked at the woman as she turned to leave, chuckling softly and speaking up to her back in response. "Oi, oi, oi. I apologize. Look, 'm just a curious sort of person, aye? How 'bout I buy you a drink? I was thinkin' of headin' in for one myself." He paused, tilting his head as he fired off another question to the red-headed woman's back. "I'm assumin' you don't work here though... But since you're in the alleyway smokin', and you uh... Look like hell put through a speed washer, I'm gonna start assumin' you do?"

His HUD flashed an alert as he spoke to her, a brief text message from a sender named 'Ashanti'. His eyes rolled, and with a mild twitch of the head, the message collapsed and vanished away from sight. Hm.
Ah well. More important things to focus on. Like the woman who appeared to want nothing more than to walk back inside. And... Who's hand was fucked. Up.

---

Jemma raced through the skies ever so high above the highway, following the black, asphalt path back to Atlas City. Two pairs of wings beat in tandem as she flew, the 'back' pair smaller than the ones in front. Her skull was in the shape of some bird of prey, perhaps an eagle- perhaps a falcon- and though she should have feathers, her body was coated in chitin that was ever so thin. Her body was a sleek, powerful thing, and even if her body had no feathers, her wings certainly did. She was just barely bigger than a Mastiff, though she was certainly leaner in this form.

She flew onward though, tracing her thoughts back to Alex and Saiyrn in the lab. They had filled her in, and told her what she had missed in quiet sentences. Alex had barely dropped the bubble before Jemma was in his face, hands and claws and tendrils slapping, scratching, and tugging on his unaffected body. "I'm so going! I have to! I can't stay here one second longer! I. Need. To. See. Our. HOME!" She had practically screamed at Alex, her form shaking with just barely restrained energy. He had only gotten the 'Okay but-' of his sentence out before she had turned and bolted off. Ink swelled around her form as she moved, and the moment her body was outside, she launched into the air with no hesitation.

And so, she flew, screaming her delight happily into the wind for absolutely none but herself to hear. A pair of eyes on her underside blinked, tracking the stretch of roadway beneath her before closing tightly as she dove into a cloud.
Jemma spun, tucking her wings tight against her body as she dove towards the ground. The eyes upon her skull darted about as she took in the sprawl of Atlas City before her. With a mighty screech, a spray of spittle, and the pulse of joy in her body; Jemma's wings flung themselves open. She was moving faster now, far faster than powered flight could take her, so she glided forth on her own momentum. The eyes on her underside flicked open once again, and as she coasted around Atlas City for a bit, she caught sight of a few familiar bodies and faces.

She was glad for the eyesight of an eagle, and oh so happy that she had four pairs of eyes looking in four separate places. Though she was also partially sad that none could see her, not really, as she had a pretty strong feeling that the movement of the eyes would be... Unnerving for most.
Regardless! There! Was the one named 'Silver Fang'. She was... Familiar, at least, sort of? Ah, who cared.


Not but fifteen feet behind Yue, a massive, five foot tall shard of bone, meat, and metal slammed into the pavement with all the forewarning of an assassination. The shard cracked on impact, pulsed with ink, vanished in a blink, and revealed the shape of Jemma's humanoid form.
She flashed a smile with a maw filled with shark-like fangs, and let a long, black, forked tongue loll out and taste the air. "Hello! I am here to help!"

Club Shapeless: Atlas City
Maxwell chuckled slightly at Scourge’s response, nodding in affirmation. “I have every faith you’re all the most capable people that could be put to this task. Just ‘pull carefully’ with this one. Weeds can grow back if any root is left behind. We need to make absolutely sure we get every last root in our grasp first. Then we can rip them out, and toss them in a bonfire.”


Things began to near their end, with Gideon making his final remarks. “Thank you Mayor Gauss, I’ll be sure to put this to good use.” Maxwell said in regards to the automaton his cousin had leant to them. As Gideon’s form disappeared, the others began to ready themselves to leave, with Maeve leading the way.


After his chair lightly shook from the press of her finger, The Shape rose a hand to stop her. “Hold on, there’s one last matter I need to address.” He swiped across his phone again, pulling something else up onto the wall screen. An email this time, one that appeared to have been written for quite a variety of recipients.


The sender was a corporation called Menagerie Tech.


“Apparently this company, Menagerie Tech, has had an issue lately with a ‘lost asset’. They’ve requested assistance from just about everyone they felt was safe to ask in this matter. The asset they’re looking for in specific is some kind of shape shifter.”


Under his mask, Maxwell allowed for a slight smirk. “There’s no doubt of quite a handsome reward for helping reunite them with their lost ‘property’, but businesses like ours have more things to consider than money. If you come across this shape shifter, I ask you to do what you can to ensure it ends up back here at Shapeless instead.”


The Shape looked to all others present. “That’s all from me for now. If you need anything else feel free to ask now. Otherwise, you can head to the warehouse now.”





The Memorial


Before leaving the resort, George had made sure to get Devon’s ‘blueprint’ put into a secure area where it could be researched later. The object was strange, something he’d never encountered before. But based on the discussion of the strange interdimensional travel, he was allowing himself to have a small amount of optimism that this could be a potential breakthrough in their fight. It would remain to be seen, but hope was an important tool, one they were all in need of.


Atlas City finally came into sight again, striking George with a strange sense of foreignness, but also nostalgia. It had only been a few days ago, and yet it felt like years. The old man continued to gaze out through the window of the 2025 Rolls Royce Limo he and Richard both sat in the back of.


Richard adjusted his tie while taking a quick glance at George. The old man seemed deep in thought, understandable given the circumstances. The White Death was also in a slight trance, thinking back to the day the ‘Beast’ had attacked. Standing on the balcony, looking out at the ocean, seeing that towering mound of death… It was like it had never even happened, like it wasn’t real. How could it have been? And yet, here they were, going to a memorial for the people who died from it, the ones that couldn’t be saved.


“How does the suit fit ?” George asked quietly of Richard.


Richard nodded an affirmation before he spoke. “Quite well actually, little surprised you had something in my size.”


George chuckled slightly, trying to keep up a positive exterior, hiding the sense of melancholy growing as they drew closer and closer to the memorial area. “Actually we just work quite fast. Some things can’t be anticipated for, so the only alternative you have is to reach a solution as quick as possible.”


Richard smiled in agreement, but said nothing more as the car pulled up to the memorial. All the passengers inside stepped out and made there way to find spots to sit. Richard had hoped he and George might sit a little closer to Henry. He wanted to be close to someone he knew, and someone he felt could offer some more immediate assistance if any was needed.


White Death had already spotted some familiar faces, a few quite famous, including the briefest of glimpses of Cannonade. Seemed they’d arrived earlier, and were already busy being adored by the crowds.


George and Richard finally took their seats near the edge of the crowds, hoping to avoid being clustered too close together with anyone, and wanting easy access to be able to stand up and leave their seats if it became essential. The old man had noticed plenty of familiar faces, but what caught his attention most immediately was that Henry had gone to join what appeared to be a family, possibly his own relatives. It was touching, but he had some concerns as well, primarily for the safety of the two adults and their children.


“You know George, I think we should come up with a team name at some point.” Richard stated nonchalantly.


George, a little surprised, cocked an eyebrow at the comment. “Really? And what do you suppose you should all be called?”


Richard shrugged. “No idea, I kinda thought that was more your department, speaking frankly.”


The old man’s mouth perked up at the corner as he shook his head. “No, while I might be your ‘boss’, I think you’re all much more qualified to come up with that sort of thing on your own. Besides, builds some camaraderie with each other, and lets me avoid being criticized over choice of name.” He chuckled slightly.





Start of the Memorial


As everyone took their seats, or found a place to stand and watch, a deafening quiet came over the crowds gathered in Atlas City. All eyes turned to the stage, or the screens, whichever they had easiest access to view. After a few moments of silence set in, a projector screen lowered at the back of the stage, and on its left and right side two banners unfurled downwards, decorated with the stars and stripes of the American flag.


Images began to fade into view on the screen, and the televisions across the city, country, and world. Pictures of men, women, children; they were of homes, parties, happy times. Hearts broke and tears began to stream as the pictures became accompanied by the sounds of Lee Greenwood's “Proud to be an American”. Those who tried not to cry struggled, some failed. They leaned on shoulders, tried to give comfort where they could as they watched images of their happy loved ones pass by.


After a while, the song finally came to its close, and the screen faded to its blank, white color once more. The first speaker came to the front of the stage, slowly, almost cautiously. Once he was at the podium, Captain Valor took a moment to compose himself. The hurt was clear in him to the crowd below, but he maintained his composure as the screen behind him flickered with color once more. Now images of Lonestar faded in and out, introducing various glimpses of the hero’s life and adventures.


“My fellow Americans, people of the world. We all lost loved ones on March 12th. For me, it was my fellow hero, sometimes rival, and always good friend; Lonestar. We had…” Valor went quiet a moment as his eyes glistened, two tiny trickles of tears making their way down his cheeks. “We had a lot of adventures together. Saved a lot of people. Saved each other even a few times.”


The hero continued on, regaling the crowd with a few tales of the adventures the two heroes had had. Of course, this was all mostly known to the public. There were many ‘adventures’ they hadn’t heard of though, the kinds of which Valor and Lonestar would both ensure were taken with them to the grave…


“All I want to say now is thank you everyone, America and the whole world, for all your continuing support. And to Lonestar buddy, we’ll meet again one day. Till then, know that you’ll always be in our hearts, a true American hero.” Valor began to exit the stage, wiping away a few tears as the screen continued to show a montage of Lonestar, before slipping into images of more of the heroes and soldiers that laid down their lives to fight the Beast. As America’s heroes passed by on the screen, they were accompanied by a favorite song of Lonestar’s, Toby Keith’s “Courtesy Of The Red, White And Blue”.


While the crowd was hit by a wave of emotions, the sadness had begun to subside near the end of the song, giving way to a roar of cheering and applause. They could be proud of those who sacrificed so much for them, and honor that freedom by continuing to fight this fight for their families, friends, and America itself.


As the song subsided, other speakers had gone up to the stage, survivors, family members of victims, heroes. Once they’d said their piece, it was time for the message they all really needed to hear. Gordon Ford, President of the United States of America, stepped up to the podium. Near the back of the stage, stood near other speakers, the Secdef and Attorney General both stood by, looking on and hoping Gordon knew what he was doing.


“My fellow Americans…” he started. “This has been a truly, truly painful time for us all. Our country has suffered a grievous injury like never before. So many lives lost, families torn apart… We’ve never seen anything like this.” There was a pause as he sought for words to give power to what he was saying. “But we are a strong nation, a strong people. We’ll rebuild, and fight this fight to keep our free nation as free as it ever has been. You can all sleep soundly at night, knowing we’re working tirelessly to keep you all safe, and to give you the answers you deserve. The people who did this will be brought to life, this I promise you. And to help keep that promise, your government is starting new initiatives to try and fight this menace, including a new team we are calling F.I.S.T. And to speak more on that, I’d like to introduce our Secretary of Defense, Victor Covistic.”


There was some cheering for the President as he stepped away from the podium, though the message he gave perhaps didn’t have the amount of impact he’d hoped for. Victor, for his part, smiled at the President as he went to the podium himself, but inwardly thought very lowly of everything the President had just ‘attempted’.


Once Victor took the podium, he also allowed for a brief pause, a moment of quiet, as he went over everything he would need to say. “Thank you Mr. President. Ladies and Gentlemen, people of America, citizens of Atlas City… Before I say anything else, I need to take a moment here to apologize. As Secretary of Defense, I’m partially responsible for the response we gave to the monster that attacked this great city. We believed we were ready to take this thing on, that we had everything we needed to destroy it. We were wrong, we underestimated the Beast, and we need to take responsibility for that. Myself, my colleagues, and everyone in your government takes responsibility for our handling of this attack.”


There was silence in the crowd as they took in what he had to say. “As the President said, we are all working tirelessly to strike back against our enemy, and while I cannot, for security reasons, tell you everything you deserve to know, I can tell you that our enemies are not long for this world.” He took a pause, hands pressed firmly on the podium as he squared his shoulders and looked directly into the faces of the crowd before him. “Again, I cannot say much for security reasons, but what I can tell you is that the military is developing a team called F.I.S.T. First Initiation Strike Team. They will be instrumental in allowing us to deal with these threats in more precise, fast, and tactical ways. We are also developing another team, known as Bulwark. This team will differ from F.I.S.T. as it will be the newest American Hero team we put together, designed for the specific purpose of ridding us of monsters like this Beast. We will have more details on this team at a later date. But for now…”


Another moment of silence. It stretched on for a second as Victor held his gaze with the crowd, letting them have a moment of anticipation. “For now let me say this. America, today is a day for mourning. Feel this grief, this sadness, this hurt. Let it all go through you. That’s what we can do today. Tomorrow? Let these feelings embolden us. Let it steel us, our resolve. The ones who did this to America, to the American people, they want us to be afraid. They want us to live in fear of them, to put us on edge. But our men and women in uniform, our Supers, our best and brightest minds, are all working in unison in this fight. One people, one purpose. They crave justice, to bring retribution down like a mighty storm. Our enemies have caused us to be afraid long enough. It’s time for these cowards to TRULY be afraid. They’ve awoken the Beast of America, and we are ravenous.”


With that, Victor stepped away from the podium as a roar of passionate emotions erupted from the crowd. The cheers were near deafening, filled with a sound that could be described as sorrow burning up into righteous rage. America had been struck a heavy blow, but it would strike back with a million times more force.


Once the crowd had let that wave of emotion pass through it, other speakers began to take the stage…

Eva's mismatched eyes narrowed near imperceptibly at Albert's spectacle, and though she kept a saccharine smile on her face, she couldn't hide the subtle twitch of her left cheek.

"Ma'am. I believe you're up next," informed one of the stage hands.

"Oh my, that time already then?" She chirped, though she hesitated to stand. Her eyes drifted off the stage to where Cannonade had been standing before a wry grin twisted the corners of her lips. "Oh, nobody wants to hear a droll statement from some boring official like me... why not have the world's greatest 'hero' take the stage and say something instead? I can go afterwards," she insisted, shooing the stage-hand away.

---

---

The spent bullet casing was tagged with a holographic as Yue approached, careful not to disturb the rubble.

"Good question...," she trailed off in response to Devon as she traced his line of sight from the door, tapping a metal finger on the chin of her mask. "My guess would be to obscure the evidence but... if that were the goal, why leave anything at all? This place is rather out of the way... especially with the Memorial pending it's a safe to assume they'd have had plenty of time to clean up even without knocking the building down. Curious," she noted thoughtfully, and then turned to see Akiko "trampling" over her crime scene.

She took a step towards the woman, making a choked noise of surprise before she noticed the detritus passing through her body as though it weren't there. Yue still couldn't help but scurry over to supervise closer, though, making noises of obvious discomfort and twitching whenever Akiko would "touch" something that wasn't catalogued. Investigator swooped over, making some very rude noises, mirroring Yue's anxiousness as it watched her pick through the rubble and hurriedly scanning anything new she turned up. Yue made a few gestures on an interface only her HUD could see, and Investigator dropped a handful of capsules no bigger than a thumb onto the pile. They unfurled into tiny centipede-like machines and scurried into the cracks to catalogue everything inside the cavity Akiko uncovered.

Yue jumped visibly as Jemma landed, spinning around and expecting to find trouble. Well... she wasn't wrong at the very least. When her gaze stopped on Jemma she relaxed noticeably.

"You. Are... SO cute," she muttered inside her helmet, unable to stay mad.

Devon listened in on the conversation Akiko seemed to have with one of the deceased. By the sounds of it the one she was talking was quite recently deceased and in all likelihood had something to do with the casing he found. "Shinigami, you said something about a bullet to the back of the head. Can you see any exit wounds and how big are they?" He asked trying to figure out what kind of bullet had been used, because no matter what that casing didn't belong to your everyday lead slug. Even if whomever she was talking to remained unwilling to bring some answers to the table knowing the perps preferred ammunition would be a significant clue.

He then turned back to Silver Fang after an amount of pondering. "I'm getting a feeling that knocking down the warehouse was an objective on it's own, for whatever reason. Let's say whomever took down the building needed to retrieve something from the building. Going in like a wrecking ball wouldn't be the best option in that case, you might inadvertently destroy what you were looking for... Or your assassination targets might get enough warning to get out." He reasoned trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together with the person shot in the back of their head, bad clean up and the flattened warehouse.

His thoughts however were swiftly disrupted as something crashed into the ground delivering a certain shape shifting miss onto the pavement. It took a moment or two for Devon to register that what had just fallen from the sky wasn't hostile... At least he assumed Jemma wasn't hostile, from what limited bits he'd gathered about her it was a rather vague line. As he once again relaxed a bit the gun he had drawn in a split second reaction to the impact was lowered and returned to it's corresponding holster. "You might want to make a more subtle entree next time, I thought we were being attacked."

Sheri crossed her arms in thought, watching where the Asian girl had disappeared beneath the collapsed warehouse as a couple of her clones took up poking around the edge of the rubble, looking for anything else that could be found. Her eyes flicked over to Jemma at the sound of her impact, but ahe made no other indication that the shapeshifter's appearance were much of a surprise. Now at their third meeting, Sheri had kind of just started to accept its proclivity to pop up wherever.

"Be more careful with your landings," she chided. "If you disrupt the rubble it could shift and crush anything hiding underneath it."

Her eyes turned back to where she assumed the other girl was. Sheri didn't really care to comment on the woman's claims that she could see dead people; in her experience, it was best to just go along with a Thinker's weirdness. "If it works for them" and what-have-you.

"I don't think this was cleanup," Sheri commented, agreeing with the gunman's theory that it had been its own objective. "More likely the intent was to make a mess, hide whatever they were actually here for. Of course, that assumes they had business with the WFG at all. This whole thing might be a smokescreen to hide something else."

"Did you find anything yet?" Sheri called out to the Sixth Sense girl, leaning over the rubble to try and spot her. "Be real nice of you to share with the class."

"You ain't getting me that easily again," the ghost snickered at Shinigami as she looked down at his feet. He had been rooted to one spot but there was nothing beneath him, a ploy to test a theory he had. She stiffened, the ghost unable to see the annoyance in her face behind her mask.

"Shinigami, you said something about a bullet to the back of the head. Can you see any exit wounds and how big are they?"

"Yeah, let m-" Shinigami responded to Freischütz before being interrupted by a small drone's furious electronic noises of reprimand. Considering how quickly it had descended on her after she had grabbed the vial, she figured it was because she had dug into the remains of the crate. Despite her face being hidden away, Akiko still gave a sheepish smile. Shinigami's Invisibility dropped but she kept the Intangibility in place, just so she wouldn't mess with the crime scene further.

It reactivated when Jemma landed however, Shinigami's body tensing for a possible battle. The ghost also stepped back a few steps, momentarily forgetting his current status as a ghost. Jemma's human form became visible and Shinigami relaxed, recognizing her from the conversation they had before the roach adventure. The ghost also sighed in relief though he had a shit-eating grin on his face, despite his own lack of bravery.

"Even ghosts got something to fear, huh?" he sneered. Shinigami was about to retort when another voice cut through.

"Did you find anything yet? Be real nice of you to share with the class."

"Yeah, sorry!" she exclaimed as she tried to hold up the vial for the rest of them to see. She struggled to raise her hand up however only managing to raise it up to her chest, prying a few fingers away so they could see a vial was in her hand.

"And that's all you're getting," the ghost insisted in an annoyed voice. "Anything else likely got destroyed when the walls came down."

"He says there was something more in the walls though! I'm guessing a secret compartment!" Shinigami called out to which the ghost angrily shouted, "Shut up! That black book is probably nothing more than garbage now anyway!"

"He says it's a black book! Maybe it's in the rubble!" Shinigami shouted again to her scream team before the ghost leaped at her.

Not far from the heroes, a jet-black BMW van rolled up. It drove slowly, in the shade, as two figures in the front seat observed the situation. Pyromancer sat in the driver's seat, hunched over, the goggles of his gas mask glowing a dim crimson hue. Maeve sat beside him, as his superior in rank. New recruits Spider-Blood and Scourge were tucked away in the back of the van, with the latter's obscene mass taking up much of the space. In each of their hands were a cone of ice cream (two cones for Scourge). Soft, creamy, and whipped into a swirling, classical shape.

"By the Lab Rat, this ensemble rides up somethin' FIERCE!" Scourge grumbled, his bright green, undead form obscured by the drab confines of a massive trenchcoat and hat set, exposing only his yellow, pupil-less eyes through the shadows. Half-eaten, cookies and cream ice cream had started to melt and trickle down the golden brown cones.

Pyromancer's gaze narrowed behind his goggles.
Others had arrived. Two unfamiliar faces behind unfamiliar masks. Pink-haired triplets. A roiling, eldritch, formless mass of black ink. ...Menagerie's Lost Asset? Pyromancer privately wondered. Capture if possible.

It was then that he noticed… her. White tabard. Silver plates that gleamed like pale moonlight. The Queen of the Damned. Slayer of Dark Crow. Champion of 100 Nights. The Dragon of Arizona.

His left hand clenched into his cone, cracking it open and scattering pink, melted globs all over the dashboard. He pulled the car into reverse, as quiet and gentle as he could.

Slowly, he turned towards Maeve, the fear palpable even through those emotionless goggles. "NAHLA's Silver Fang." He turned his attention back forwards, towards the shrinking group of heroes. "Seven of them. Four of us. Can't go in for a direct attack. Risk; Extreme."

"Whaaaaat?" Scourge whined, and nudged himself between Pyromancer and Maeve. "But this is what I'm here for! She's just a twig in an aluminum can, how bad can she be?

Maeve peered at the demolished warehouse over a carton of orange juice. The one in the gas mask had drawn swiftly when the shapeshifter had landed; a gunman, with quick reflexes. Probably jumpy. The other masked figure seemed to pass straight through solid objects, which could be annoying. The knight's armor suggested a need for protection, which meant they were likely fragile. As for the triplets… Maeve couldn't tell if they had powers or not, but they didn't seem much of a threat. She gently folded the lip of her juice carton, then set it into the cupholder.

"Get the drone out of the boot and bring it around back of the warehouse," she instructed, looking at Spiderblood in the rearview mirror.

"At my signal," she continued, eyes flickering over to Pyromancer, "Release explosions over their heads and by the street. Keep them pinned down."

"And me?" the new one spoke up, sounding almost like a child ready for a new game.

"Hit the knight dead-on. Keep them from regrouping with the others. I'll take the shapeshifter."

With that, Maeve pushed open the door of the car, straightening her black tie as she stepped out of the shade of the trees and approached the heroes with a silence unexpected of someone her size. It was one of the redheads who spotted her first; the other two instantly vanished in bursts of static. Ah.

"Beggin' your pardon," she greeted, her voice sounding raspy as she strained to raise her volume above a polite indoor voice. "But this is private property. May I ask what ye're all doin' here?"

Sheri shot a look toward the man in the gasmask, hand going to the back of her pants where she normally kept her gun, only to find it missing. The memory of its confiscation did choose the most opportune time to present itself… She scanned behind the tall woman in the black suit, spotting a car in the shade by the street. "Real estate representative?" she suggested facetiously, keeping her voice down.

Nebulae blinked behind his helmet, watching as the woman before him spoke in calm, if irritated sentences. He hummed gently before shrugging and rolling his shoulders. "Well... Hm! I hope you get the job then, yeah?"

A smile spread behind his helmet as he shifted his weight to one side, his hands finding his hips as Nebulae spoke again. His eyes darted to one side of his HUD as the P-AI chirped at him yet again. Movement from somewhere just out of sight, around the corner? A vehicle. The thing was nearly silent, and eerily quiet as it went. "Well... I think someone just left from the establishment. So, if you're goin' to go back in, I suggest goin' in now before you have to chase 'em down, yeah?" He took a step back, nodding at her hand as he went to turn away. "'Ere, I'll hand y' my number if you ever wanna cash in on that drink, yeah?"
He had paused, tapping a pocket on his ... Jacket? Would you call it a jacket? Or was it more of a coat? ... His coat. Nebulae reached in and produced a relatively small card, perhaps like a business card. On it was a cell-number, and a name: Y'mari.

He stepped back then, waving once before quickly taking his leave. "Sorry for botherin' you, jus' curious, like I said!"

---

---

Jemma jerked to attention as a voice rasped at the group of them from some distance away. Ink pulsed in her face and hands as she looked over at the- Oh! It was her! The brutal murderess, the slaughtermaster, the hot one! ... Save that thought for later. In the current moment, adrenaline throbbed through her veins, and the world began to slow in that weird way it did when she fought.

Jemma watched her approach all the same, the muscles under her face warping and changing as her tongue became a hallow tube, in which resided a needle of iron and bone. The needle had grooves inlaid upon it, and venom eerily similar to that of a bullet ant filled the grooves. Her hands became armored, talons taking place of her nails as she stared at the eerily tall woman. Her voice worked without her wanting, calling out to the short redhead. "Tall and Irish was at the beach! Do not trust. Threat high. She tore apart many of the small beastlings. With ease" The last word was hissed with a strange sort of... Relish, excitement, maybe even a bit of admiration. Ink rippled along her back as she spoke, and what started as only bone, soon covered itself in flesh, and then in iron and brass, was a wickedly tipped tail. It was as long as the tall woman was tall, and from its tip dripped a black-red venom.

She dropped into an odd stance beside Yue, tail lashing to and fro with unmistakable mistrust, tension building in her muscles as she waited for 'the other boot to drop' as Alex put it. The heart in her form was beginning to pound ever faster, and the want to touch on that cicada-scream was building, but Jemma held off. If they needed aid, she didn't want to cut off that chance. Not yet.

Sheri came forth with her own set of theories, however they didn't quite hold up in Devon's mind. Accidentally stumbling upon a WFG stashhouse didn't seem likely, it wasn't like they were dressed in their ridiculous outfits all the time and it would have been hard to distinguish them from the regular populace without surveillance. Then again it could have been someone who saw something fishy going on and decided to investigate, but this really didn't seem like something a private entity could do especially considering the building was brought down by some form of mechanical means as Silver Fang had brought up.

Using this as a smokescreen for something bigger also seemed like a shaky theory, much less a smoke screen this was barely a puff of smoke. Causing a small commotion at the memorial would have been so much more effective at drawing attention away from everywhere else, especially with several important figures being present there.

As Akiko called out to the group that there might be something important hidden among the rubble Devon was about to shift into wraith form when a cold chill crept through his back informing him that it might not be the right moment. Pretending to not notice the gazes from a vehicle in the street he went on with looking through the rubble, his mind occupied with the intentions that had shot him that look full of malice.

It didn't take long for the first entity to make itself known as a towering figure decided to inquire about their reason for being out there. The woman's appearance seemed to cause quite a reaction in the shapeshifter as it shifted into a clearly more aggressive form and called out to Sheri to be very wary of the woman before them. Devon too took a more defensive stance getting ready in case things were to go ugly, however as it stood he was less concerned with the woman who seemed to have the shapeshifter as her main focus and more the other sets of eyes that he could feel burning on his skin.

"This is the site of an official NAHLA investigation, I would request you and your friends to leave the scene as you seem to be neither the property owner or the operator of this facility." Devon called out loud and clear to the woman. It may have been a bit forced to act so authoritative especially after Sheri's evasive answer, but it seemed like the simplest and quickest method to cue the rest in that the one before them wasn't acting alone.

The energy in the ruined warehouse began to change as footsteps approached. Even Shinigami's ghostly companion stopped in its tracks as it turned to see what was causing the unrest. A tall, muscular woman approached. An inquiry was made and then, there was tension in the air. Warnings were called out. She wasn't alone.

"I would say good luck but I'm really hoping you guys don't make it out," the ghost said as it started walking away. Shinigami made no response or movement. She knew what bullets they were looking for and to make a move now might provoke an attack. Intangible was still up. Going Invisible might be a good move but Shinigami didn't want to give her trick up so easily... If it even was a trick at this point. Had they just arrived or were they watching?

Shinigami slowly widened her stance slightly, one hand at her waist where the lanterns emitted a soft glow.

"This is a crime scene," Yue replied simply, turning towards the new arrivals. Truth be told, she'd had the chilling sensation that they were being watched long before Maeve approached them. The vents on her mask opened momentarily, producing a quiet, but pointed hiss as air was rapidly drawn in. A subtle flicker of crimson electricity crawled its way up her body as she accelerated her perception as a precaution.

Yue held out her hand, and her badge was holographically projected onto it. It wasn't strictly necessary in this circumstance given that she was in full NAHLA regalia, but it was an excuse to have Tracer turn towards Maeve and the others, capture the vehicle's plate number, and run facial recognition silently in one corner of her HUD.

"These recruits are shadowing me on my investigation," she explained.

---

---

Sairyn's phone rang, to which he gave a proper sigh before answering.

"Can't you follow simple directions?" He managed before he was assaulted by Richard's commands. He held the phone away from his ear, and rolled his eyes dramatically while Richard said some things... it was the polite thing to do. Apparently. "You've had drone support: I sent a Tracer ahead of you to the memorial. 'The fuck is a Galliant building?" he called to someone in the background.

"It's a big art-deco office tower over by where they're hosting the memorial, silly," Archer's voice answered, over the rough hiss of a cappuccino machine.

"Right. Anyway. Use the app I installed on your phone to direct the AI and stop using made-up words," he instructed, letting the phone float nearby as a new slate materialized to show Tracer's view of the memorial grounds and slowly floated into position next to the other three.

"I don't think y'all told them about the app, love," Archer chided, handing Sairyn a cup, which he accepted slowly.

"I installed an app on your phones so you can interface with the drones. Open it and let it run in the background, just be careful how you word your requests: one of the 'features' of the AI is that it tends to take the most literal translation," he said, sipping the dink noisily. He spit it out suddenly with a noise of disgust. "Are you trying to poison me?!"

"Doll, of course I am!" Archer giggled. "Ain't my fault your handwriting is trash." To which Sairyn answered with a long, awkward pause.

"Stick out your tongue. As far as it goes... Ugh. I forgot you could do that. I'm spoken for," he said, while Archer laughed in the background. "My attention is split three ways right now, you're gonna have to direct the drone yourself," he instructed, as he reached out and tapped one of the slates, slightly adjusting the image of a seemingly innocuous lamp post.

Maeve's eyes shot in Spiderblood's direction like a bullet. "Exactly," she agreed, making a mental note that this one doesn't listen.

"The owners would prefer this investigation be handled internally," Maeve continued, gesturing to herself and her fool of an assistant. "There has been no request or necessity for official intervention. So I would ask ye all to leave, or..."

Maeve's voice trailed off as her vision focused on the knight's outstretched hand, and the holographic badge displayed upon her palm. Maeve might not know what "Witchfinders" were, but this wasn't her first introduction to government heroes, and she knew what this particular gesture meant. She looked briefly around at the other heroes; the shapeshifter had recognized her, and the gunman already seemed ready for a fight.

Maeve closed her eyes and sighed softly, taking a step back. "Let it never be said we didn't try diplomacy." Dirt and cracked concrete exploded under her feet, and in the next thought the shapeshifter found her vision filled by the inside of Maeve's elbow as it swung fast at her head, the distance between them closed in an instant.

Violence was something Jemma excitedly looked forward to, most days, but on a day like this… When the hot one’s elbow was flying at her face? Violence sent her heart skyrocketing into the stratosphere. In the pulse of time that it took for the elbow to begin splitting the flesh of Jemma’s noise, she felt that unusual pulse of cicada scream spark behind her heart.

The elbow met her skull, and the spike that had formed in Jemma’s mouth began to pierce the flesh of the offending limb. Then it met the meat of her brain, and thoughts shuttered to a stop, only understanding from the core.
The spike sank deeper into the meat of the fast moving woman, venom pulsing up into the bloodstream as her own was sputtering along, made mostly of ink and blood.

The moment faded, and as Maeve moved through Jemma’s skull, Jemma’s claws reached up with the speed of a viper’s strike. Bones shattered with the force that the shapeshifter put forth, and claws made to slice and gash reached for Maeves passing form. The cicada scream and the burning of electronics spread out and destroyed that which could be destroyed. The tail flicked, and a spine of virulent venom on the end of it came rising towards where Maeve might have been, had Jemma been able to move faster—

The fun had begun, and the heart was pulsing. Fight and fight until it was done.