What Happened in Portland

[Edgedancer he/him]

Lucentia watched as Nighthound fell to the ground and clutched at the hole in his stomach, black clouds rising out of them. At the other end of the room her brother´s woman seemed downright cheerful at Nighthound being ripped apart, it seems Calamity´s gift of being hated by everyone was still strong with him. Lucentia shot her down with a cold stare.

 

In the time Nighthound took to cough out blood she appraise the collar wearing woman, it doesn´t seem like she was with him willingly, the leisure he could afford himself for his tastes.

 

Her brother´s lungs were finally healed enough to hold a conversation, so he, still sitting on the ground, held up his hands started to talk, “Fine, I deserved that one but in my defense it was an accident.”
“An accident?! You ripped out my arm!” she thrusted her diamond arm into his face.

“And you ripped mine out first.”

“Yours healed!” Lucentia started to raise her voice.

“I expected yours to do so as well, sorry I never picked up a habit of randomly punching you to see, what might trigger your weakness. Maybe you should just have told me what it was, if it was so likely for me to stumble across it.” His voice took on a biting sarcastic tone.

“Yes, because you´re so trustworthy. Sparks, it´s not like you told me your weakness.”

Nighthound threw his hands upwards and let himself fall back with a grunt, “Fine, I´ll tell you when we´re alone, happy now?”
 

The one good quality her brother had, he ultimately gave into her demands, most of the time at least. She pulled him up on one hand.  It still feels weird that she´s the taller one of them now, even if only by a bit. “Leaving that aside it seems we still have some business with the war going on this city.”

“Certainly, I assume we´re clear then?”

Lucentia slapped him. “I suppose we are.”

 

Nighthound staggered back a bit, spitting out slightly black blood. After catching himself he put one of his hands into his pocket and started to smile, that slap might not have been a good idea.

“Sadly, I don´t think I deserved that one.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket, grabbing something, and punched her into her stomach. The diamonds cracked and the air was knocked out of her lungs.

 

She slumped over a bit and Nighthound caught her, handing the thing he held in his hand over to her. It was small and round in her hand, she crushed it. “You´re a rusting Slontze.”

“I love you too, sister.”

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

 

 "Of course. My sincere apologies for keeping the pair of you waiting."

 

Lightwards gave a derisive sniff, then smiled as though nothing had happened. As though he hadn't punched Traveler in the stomach for the crime of not being an Epic. For daring to pull the wool over his eyes. For making him feel like a fool. 

 

Kid deserves a medal. 

 

Doctor Funtimes had replaced her scowl with a smile, which she gave freely to Voidgaze and Sightline. But when it landed on Lightwards, Remington saw a flicker of the same disgust, the same malice he had both seen and felt flare behind her eyes. She wasn't more than a step or two away from embracing the same anger she'd had when she turned his shoes to tar. 

 

"Sorry we were gone so long," she told them. "But it's gone now and everyone's all friendly-friendship again and it's so….good!" 

 

Epics were dangerous in that state. Everyone knew that. Remington knew he ought to be relieved she was shoving it down and pushing it away, turning toward the same childlike innocence she usually embraced. Yet when he thought of Lightwards he thought of Koschei, and he wished Funtimes would unleash the full brunt of her rage on him. 

 

Should've done that when I first saw Koschei. 

 

---------------------------------

 

Two years ago 

 

“C’mon, Remy. Let’s get there before the snow hits.”

 

“Snow’s not even on its way.” That was untrue. Grey clouds blanketed the sky, and Remington's breath came out in little cloud puffs as he labored up the hill.

 

Laurie laughed. “Before that deer freezes, then.”

 

“You ain’t the one carrying it.”

 

“Should’ve let me help back when we shot it.”

 

Remington laughed. “Don't sound very gentlemanly.”

 

“Doesn’t matter. “

 

They continued like that up the hill, onto a dirt road overgrown with dying weeds, and toward the farmhouse. Remington knew the way well, knew they were close even before the cheerful yellow walls came into sight. He smiled, but it fell quickly.

 

The door was open.

 

Remington frowned and quickened his pace. It wasn’t what he thought. Someone was outside and had forgotten to close it. In a moment, his mother would appear at the door, ask the culprit whether or not they were born in a barn, and close it. It wasn’t what he thought.

 

Laurie stopped twenty feet from the entrance. “Remy?”

 

For a good minute, they stared at the door that opened to darkness. Nothing went in and nothing came out. Laurie filled the magazines of both their rifles and stepped cautiously toward the stoop. “Blood here.”

 

Remington’s stomach twisted. Epics. Five years of safety, five years of dodging trouble and shooting the rare intruder, were over. He followed Laurie to the stoop where, sure enough, drops of blood led from the concrete into the house. He dropped the deer in the entryway and took his gun, rolling his shoulders back to ease some of the tension.

 

He stayed close to his wife as they stepped from the landing to each of the bedrooms, following the crimson stains on the carpet. His heart pounded in his ears as bile rose in his throat.

 

Splatters of blood led from the door to two of the three bedrooms. Larger bloodstains spread across the sheets and comforters in Daisy and Barrett’s rooms, holes in the mattresses and more splatters leading off the bed and across the floor. One stain at the end of the hall, and another in his parents’ room, began two more trails of blood. Bullets had torn holes in the plaster across from the stain in the hall. His parents had put up a fight.

 

His gaze traveled with Laurie’s to the pictures on the walls: him as a boy posing with Daisy and Barrett; he and Laurie on their wedding day. Their eyes locked. Understanding passed.

 

And a shot rang out.

 

Only a quick duck into Barrett’s bedroom saved Remington from the bullet. Laurie slammed the door shut, locking it as Remington ran for the window and undid the latch.

 

A series of gunshots slammed into a wall somewhere outside the bedroom. “They’re not firing at the door,” she said when the noise stopped.

 

Remington took his knife and cut a hole in the window screen. It wouldn’t be long before they did.

 

Another round of gunfire.

 

Then: “Remy! Laurie! Get the—“

 

Barrett’s command ended in a gurgle. “I thought I warned you not to betray,” said a cold, clipped voice from down the hall.

 

Remington lifted Laurie enough to climb out the window; she hit the ground with an oof and a thud. He followed as a loud crack came from behind him, glanced back just long enough to see the doorknob torn from the door, and scrambled out the window, narrowly avoiding a bullet. Once he hit the ground, he picked himself up, ran a short way, and ducked behind the thickest tree trunk he saw.

 

He had time for one look. One look at the Epic who had taken his family and forced his own brother to fire on him. Remington peered out from behind the tree.

 

A tall man, perhaps in his mid-twenties, stood framed by the window. His pale blond hair was set with a narrow circlet of what appeared to be gold, and the white fur collar of a purple cloak rested on his thin shoulders. A revolver was in his hand, seeking a target through the hole in the window screen. Remington was just close enough to see his face, and his lips were drawn into a scowl.

 

He didn’t wait to see if the Epic had seen him or not. He turned and bolted into the forest, the crack of gunfire ringing in his ear.

 

 

"He's not allowed to hit you." 

 

Nathan had been punched in the stomach—and many other places—before. It wasn't quite a daily event, but the casino's peculiar clientele had made beatings and bruisings so regular he came to accept them. Their anger was like the Newcago chill: it was a part of life, a part of his line of work. There was no sense in becoming angry at something that would happen regardless. 

 

"He's not allowed to hit you. Any of you." 

 

He lowered himself to the jungle floor, leaning against a tree and wincing at the pain as Sam and Revolution discussed how the incident might have raised Lightwards' blood pressure. Calamity, that Epic could throw a punch. Nathan suspected anger had something to do with it, but compared to Funtimes….

 

Compared to Funtimes, lips scowling and eyes flashing, Lightwards was a kitten. 

 

She had it in her. Nathan had always known she did, had known it would surface sooner or later, but seeing her in that state, all malice restrained by nothing more than a fragile alliance, was like seeing a chubby toddler pull a gun on Fortuity. And actually shoot him. 

 

He knew it would surface sooner or later, but he had always suspected he would be the target of her wrath. He would do or say something to raise her temper, and he would be reduced to a puddle by whatever she turned his clothes into. He had never thought another Epic would be the one to set her off. 

 

"Kissing means boyfriend. If you hurt my boyfriend, you might as well find your weakness and shoot yourself." 

 

Boyfriend. 

 

It really was real. Really, really, real. Real enough to drive her to threats. Real enough to drive her to murder. 

 

"I say I have the best boyfriend ever!" 

 

She didn't know that. Couldn't know that. Unless Fortuity had sung his praises between the time he retreated to the kitchen and the moment Funtimes locked her date in the bathroom, she couldn't know a thing about him beside his name and the fact he didn't want to die. Whatever virtues she thought he possessed were products of her imagination. 

 

​"Best boyfriend ever….best boyfriend ever…." 

 

He had to prove her right. He had to become the boyfriend she thought he was—or he would be the next one trapped in tar. 

 

Edited September 21, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Tulir he/him]

"See, I doubt he could do anything to me that would be permanent, but recruiting you would be better for us all.  Just follow me, and unless you stop using your power by the end of the block, you will be gone, and I will take the risk of Corpsemaker finding out."  Mundivore turned the mech around and started heading back to the Dominion.

[Kobold King he/him]

 

The conversation paused, and Sam cast a glance at Traveler. The teleporter was leaning against a tree, his hand absently clenched to his side.

 

Lightwards must throw better punches than you'd think, Sam thought musingly. She'd usually offer a few words of sympathy to someone who'd survived an Epic attack--not that she'd had many chances, since Ray and the Museum Quartet didn't often leave survivors. But in this case, it was hard to work up a lot of pity for Traveler.

 

He'd beaten Remington for the crime of disrespect. The hunter had hardly put those bruises on himself, after all--as far as Sam was concerned, Traveler getting the tar beaten out of him was just a bit of karma that Epics usually didn't get pinned with.

 

Still though, he looked rather pitiful as he sat there, his face furrowed into a look of concern. That was strange in itself. Epics simply didn't show weakness in front of humans. Lightwards couldn't even take a joke about his hat without threatening murder, and he was an established High Epic. A new and insecure one like Traveler should be wallowing in his own arrogance, committing atrocities far worse than beating a hunter into submission.

 

Sam narrowed her gaze at the sad creature on the tree stump and turned to Revolution. The hippie was also looking at Traveler curiously, but turned to lean in close to Sam.

 

"Look at him," Revolution whispered sympathetically, "The poor guy looks like he's about to cry. I didn't think Lightwards could punch that hard."

 

"I don't think that's what he's upset about," Sam replied slowly. "He looks scared. He looks..."

 

Like a normal man drafted into an Epic war.

 

Sam had a hunch. She walked over to Traveler, making eye contact with him and giving a stern stare.

 

The worst case scenario was that she was wrong about her hunch, and Traveler would beat her senseless. That wouldn't matter. She'd taken worse before.

 

"I once watched an Epic use his powers for the first time," she told the man softly. "He saved my life from a monster. But I watched him turn into one himself every time he used those powers."

 

She let her eyes narrow. "Here's my question, Traveler: if you're not an Epic, what's your excuse for beating up Remington Springfield?"

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

If he didn't know better, Nathan might suspect Sam of being an Epic. He looked up and there she was, arms folded and eyes narrowed, looking far more suspicious than any teenager had a right to look. 

 

Any teenager under normal circumstances, anyway. 

 

"I once watched an Epic use his powers for the first time. He saved my life from a monster. But I watched him turn into one himself every time he used those powers."

 

Nathan drew himself up a little, wincing as he did, and tried to wrap his mind around what she was saying. Tried to reach her conclusion before she did and ready his defenses.  

 

"Here's my question, Traveler: if you're not an Epic, what's your excuse for beating up Remington Springfield?"

 

That wasn't where he thought she was heading at all. 

 

Part of him wanted to smile. He thought he did, for a moment.  If you're not an Epic…Sam had guessed the truth. Whether she knew it or not, she had guessed the truth. An ordinary, non-powered, teenage girl had guessed his secret. Not an Epic who saw him as nothing more than a "brave little body" in need of reanimation. 

 

Then again, she did think Remington's black eye and bruises were his fault. Whether she believed her own guess or not, she thought him capable of beating a hunter black and blue for laughing. 

 

If he told, would she even believe him? 

 

Nathan decided then that he didn't care. There was no point in keeping up the charade, not around Sam and Revolution, at least. Remington knew. Funtimes started it. And now Lightwards had joined a growing list of enemies who would turn to murder the second Funtimes released his hand. Even if Sam proclaimed him a liar and spit in his face, it would only be another dark stain on a very bleak morning. 

 

"Because he told me to." He stared at the ground. The ground didn't glare back at him. "He thought… thought it'd help my cover when he guessed the same thing you just did." Nathan sighed, which didn't help the pain. "And I never got a chance to tell him that my name's not Traveler. It's Nathan." 

 

-------------------------------------------

 

I affect you, but CorpseMaker doesn't. Heh. Wonder if that's even true. Little as he believed it, Quota knew that the only way to get to CorpseMaker would be to follow this grumpy little Epic down the block—the only caveat being he had to stop using his powers. 

 

Noticeably. 

 

"That's cool," Quota said, allowing hope and amusement to rise again, relegating fear to the background. "Lead the way." 

Edited September 21, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Mailliw73 he/him]

As Max rushed into the south room, he looked out the window, ready to fire, he saw three soldiers creeping towards his previous location. He watched as the first soldier went down with the sound of three bullets. The two soldiers looked up at the roof and, presumably, seeing Gordon, began to shoot.

Two shotgun blasts went off. That must be Kyle. Both soldiers dropped dead. "Max! the Soldiers are all down, and the Officer is running north. Try and-" Max heard Gordon call. Max headed for the front door, north, as Gordon yelled again, "Yeah nevermind."

Max returned to where Kyle had been shooting from and saw him getting back into his wheelchair. "He escaped?" Max asked, knowing full well what the answer was. "The six are dead, now if you get me in contact with Reckoners, I'll kill the others you want dead too."

CorpseMaker turned as Electro walked into the room with Upgrade following behind. Starscream was in the hangar, with half of Electro's soldiers. The other five were behind Upgrade.

"You're back, good. And you brought someone. Even better. Congratulations on your promotion. You're being elevated to Second in command. Scorch got himself killed today. Now then, who's the knife?" Corpsemaker said. Good. Corpsemaker was finally beginning to appreciate him enough to realize his worth. Scorch was dead? Already? Electro panicked inside for a moment before he regained control of himself. He knew he would have to kill Corpsemaker or, until then, serve him as best he could.

"This is Upgrade. Upgrade, meet your new employer, Corpsemaker," Electro replied. Edited September 21, 2014 by Mailliw73

[Voidus]

Jeff stood up when he heard the trio approaching, they'd paused briefly at the door, giving him enough time to spin his shadows into razor sharp tendrils which he held at the ready, placing himself protectively between Marigold and the doorway.
"Backtrack and friends are in the house!" One of them bellowed as they made their way into the room.
One man and what seemed to be identical twins, or otherwise an illusionist who liked to make duplicates.
They'd yelled a greeting, which was comforting, most Epics looking for a fight didn't greet each other, they just started destroying things.
"How did you find us here?" Jeff asked as the trio entered the room. "Who are you working for?"
He looked back to check on Marigold, who was still seated, seeming completely unconcerned with the newcomers, still calmly sipping her tea.
What the?
He looked back to the newcomers and then he saw them, just above them four spiders were perched silently.
Well, that really could come in handy.

[Fatebreaker he/him]

His grandson walked towards him grumbling. "I was just talking to her. It's not like I did anything wrong."

 

Black ignored him and looked at the female Epic. His anger burned within him and he debated whether to avoid a fight or start one.

Maximilian  could use some combat training, but it was rarely a good idea to start fights with random Epics. He decided to leave it up to her.

 

"He mistook you for another Epic. Obviously you are not said Epic, so pardon the intrusion and I will forgive your tone." 

 

She had a chance to apologize and walk away. He doubted she would take it.

Maximilian laughed at his grandfather's reply. That probably wasn't going to assuage the situation any.

[Kobold King he/him]

 

Cricket wasn't overly fond of the situation.

 

It was all well and good for Aldo--he could practically see the future. He was perceptive enough to have a good grasp on the situation.

 

But as someone whose only way to get out of a bind was by kicking her way out, Cricket was annoyed by his constant involvement with other Epics. He'd talked them into a serpent's den, and all she could do was watch and pretend to sip tea. It was like the time he'd pretended to pull a dime out of Nightwielder's nose all over again.

 

Already sitting at her utmost pinnacle of annoyance, she was only mildly irked when a voice called through the dwelling. "Hello shabby little shack!" the voice yelled. "Backtrack and friends are in the house!"

 

A dorky man in pink sunglasses strode into the dining area like he owned the place, accompanied by a pair of blonde twins that didn't seem to like him very much. 

 

Saccharine ignored the trio and continued sipping her tea, while Purple Phoenix rose to his feet in alarm.

 

"How did you find us here?" He demanded immediately. "Who are you working for?"

 

The man who called himself Backtrack didn't answer at once, instead letting his eyes scan the table for a moment. To Cricket's annoyance, those eyes seemed to settle on her legs for a touch longer then they should.

 

"Eyes forward, soldier," she said irritably. "Answer the nice energy Epic here before he blows you up."

 

Backtrack snapped back to attention and smiled not at Phoenix, but at Aldo the Enigmatic. "He wants to know who I'm working for," he said smoothly, a goofy smile stretched across his lips. "That answer's entirely up to you, Aldo the Enigmatic. You're recruiting for Lightwards, aren't you?"

 

Aldo smiled and nodded his head. "I am indeed, I am indeed. What precisely can you and your lovely assistants do?"

 

The twins seemed about to object to their characterization as "assistants," but Backtrack spoke first. "These lovely lasses can control momentum. They--"

 

One of them cut him off. "I'm Impact. I can give things a push, as it were. I grant momentum to objects."

 

"I'm MV," the other twin explained. "She adds momentum, I can move it around to other objects."

 

"Couldn't have said it better myself," finished Backtrack, smiling widely at them both.

 

"Darn right you couldn't," MV mumbled. Cricket couldn't help but grin at her.

 

Aldo looked impressed. "Useful abilities," he said cheerily. "Remind me to shoot at them later to see if they can affect bullet trajectories. What are your powers, Mr. Backtrack?"

 

"Mine are the most impressive of all," Backtrack replied mysteriously. "I shan't be revealing them till you introduce me to Lightwards."

 

"Fair enough," Aldo said amiably. "Speaking of which, Phoenix and Saccharine, I really must be getting back to him now. Would you two would care to accompany me and these fine fellows to the Empire's headquarters...?"

 

 

 

 

For a moment a strange expression flickered across Traveler's face. It could have been surprise--it almost seemed that he was proud of her for coming to the realization.

 

The look was gone in an instant, and he turned to face the ground. "Because he told me to," he explained quietly, not meeting her gaze.  "He thought… thought it'd help my cover when he guessed the same thing you just did." He let out a low sigh. "And I never got a chance to tell him that my name's not Traveler. It's Nathan." 

 

Sam looked at him a moment more. I was right. Even though her correct guess just meant that Traveler was another enslaved human, her hunch had been right. She gave a genuine smile.

 

"I'll talk to Remington to make sure he agrees," she told him. "But I believe you."

 

Nathan. His name was Nathan.

 

She sat down on a stump beside him before giving a pointed stare. "You could have told us before," she accused. "We're all in the same boat here, Nathan." She tried out the name, and found it fit this mild man far more than "Traveler" fit the smug but artificial Epic.

 

Revolution for once, appeared a bit surprised by the revelation. Pleasantly surprised. Her mouth stretched in a wide smile and she came to sit down. "I've got some questions now," she proclaimed quietly, still beaming. "First, was this disguise your idea, or hers? And secondly--" this one brought with it an ever broader smile-- "how come we don't get to pretend we're Epics?"

 

 

 

 

Anger.

 

That was what the alpha mammal smelled like. Anger.

 

The raptor watched the green mammal sweep by, the scent of rage and fury strong in his sweat. The raptor wasn't quite clear who or what the anger was centered on, but he got a sense of it.

 

He stared at the pink mammal. It was one of the female ones, drenched in sickeningly sweet smells mixed with the vile smell of loathing. He didn't like that one.

 

There was anger in the alpha mammal. The raptor sniffed the air, letting out a hiss. The alpha's anger began to filter through his mind, giving him strength. There was a freedom in anger. He took a step forward. His first free step forward for a very long time.

 

He took another step forward, closer to the pink female. He took another step forward, savoring the liberty. He was half a dozen yards away, but already he could hear the blood gurgling in her veins. He would spill it, he would slash his claw through her abdomen, he would dance in the viscera. The first kill in ages was a mere leap away--

 

"What are you doing?"

 

The raptor froze at the alpha mamma's voice, swiveling his head to face him. He let out a hiss of defiance--an alpha did not stop the hunt!

 

"I did not tell you to move," the mammal continued harshly. "Sit."

 

After a moment of staring, the raptor complied, still emitting a low growl. The alpha mammal gave out some sort of sigh before speaking again, this time to the pink mammal.

 

"My apologies, Doctor. I did not order it--I'll probably have to kill it a few times before my control really cements."

 

The raptor didn't understand all the words. But he understood the hostile intent.

 

So he fixed his eyes on the creature with the green headcrest and growled.

Edited September 22, 2014 by Kobold King

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

"I'll talk to Remington to make sure he agrees," she told him. "But I believe you."

Nathan looked up, and saw Sam smiling. Not a half-there smile like the Doctor's, and not a thin-lipped predatory smile like Lightwards', but the warm sort of smile only another human could give.

She believed him.

Part of him—a small part of him—knew he ought to be dismayed that his acting skills were so poor, if a confession was all it took to sway her. But to finally toss his costume aside and admit that was what it was, to have someone see him without it and like him better for it, made him wish he could have done this all along.

She sat on a stump and gave him an accusing look. "You could have told us before. We're all in the same boat here, Nathan."

Revolution joined her with a smile of her own—only in her case, the surprise was evident and genuine. "I've got some questions now. First, was this disguise your idea, or hers? And secondly…" Her smile widened. "How come we don't get to pretend we're Epics?"

Nathan laughed quietly, so as not to flare the pain in his side. That bruise would last a while, to be sure. "It was her idea. All hers. I asked for jeans and a T-shirt, and she said no." Even a suit had been too plain for her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I…." He thought of Lightwards, and his smile fell.

"If you ever grow bored with your little toy and feel like giving him away, do come to me first?" ​

"Look, I didn't even know she and I were actually dating until this morning, much less if she actually wanted me to tell you. As for the whole Epic thing, it's not worth it. Believe me."

Funtimes moved a few steps away from the enormous lizard that emerged from the jungle, regarding it with a small frown before she stuck out her tongue.

"My apologies, Doctor. I did not order it--I'll probably have to kill it a few times before my control really cements."

Rather than stare blankly, the raptor sat, fixed Lightwards with a reptilian glare, and growled.

Remington knew he ought to be afraid, or at least worried, that a lizard taller than he was with a mouth full of sharp teeth resisted the only control keeping it from devouring him alive. But he couldn't help a smile. The raptor had been threatened with death, and he growled.

"Kill me all you want," that growl seemed to say, "I'll still rip that stupid hat off your head before I rip you in half."

Remington stole a small glance at the stubborn raptor. He was tall, a good several feet taller than him, covered in dark scales, small feathers and strong muscle. But it was his eyes that drew his attention. They reminded him of Remus, the half-wolf Husky kept by one of the families on a neighboring farm when he was younger. Eyes that would watch your every move. Eyes that sized you up as their owner decided whether or not you were worth biting.

​Not that Remus had ever bit him. His owners had trained him well—as well as anyone could train a force of nature.

The raptor continued to growl, making Lightwards look stupider by the minute.

Remington liked him. Edited September 22, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Edgedancer he/him]

The group made their way towards the museum, Nighthound had to walk because his sister laid claim to the Carnotaurus, she always had been a demanding brat, adding a mixture of a saddle and a throne on top of it. Ray and Candyflame followed behind, surrounded by the five hounds, ensuring a bit of privacy.

 

She called down to him from atop of the dinosaur, “Now, who exactly are we meeting in the flying museum?”

“Described in the most insulting way possible?” His question was answered with a nod. “Then let´s start with the worst one, she´s called Funtimes-“ A annoyed groan interrupted him.

“Why? Her whole existence is an atrocity!”

“So you meet her that explains your clothes or lack thereof. Anyway it comes down to efficiency. I don´t want to torture you with talking about her more than necessary, so I´ll just tell you that her boyfriend might not be an Epics, didn´t have a chance to check yet.” He could see how his sister searched for dots to connect and she found them, poor fellow.

“The other important person would be Lightwards our self-proclaimed leader, not that anyone cares he just has the dinosaurs, so we humor him. He´s a generally pathetic man that at the same time is paranoid but jumps at any form of power offered to him, also he´s a teacher. And then there might be messengers or seedy stage magician running around but I think we can wait with the cannon fodder and other factions until we are up there.”

 

Nighthound pointed at the flying building above them. After giving a sight, Lucentia grew a line of diamonds along the dinosaur, which build two rooms, one for the siblings and another for the rest. Then the complex rose, fast.

 

No doubt she would start a more private interrogation now. “Did you ever think about my offer?”

Nighthound tensed up, he did not want to deal with this again, even if it would be a lot more pleasant than his current predicament. “I started thinking about it.”

Lucentia seemed pleased with that answer, unaware that he was placating her. At least this time the topic didn´t end with someone maimed.

“Anyway, you still wanted to tell me something, didn´t you, brother?”

Ah yes, the expected topic, he didn´t really have a chance to run away right now, so he´ll have to tell her.

 

Soon afterwards the construct reached the museum and opened a pair of makeshift doors.  Nighthound effectively jumped out of them. “Hello, Ladies, Gentleman and those I would expect to meet here. I bring you Toy soldiers to interrogate and new recruits, some dimwitted others brilliant.” The rest of the group followed without his speed, Lucentia riding side saddle atop of the Carnotaurus in the front.

[Kobold King he/him]

 

The raptor was still growling.

 

Lightwards met the creature's gaze irritably, and was irked to find that it was glaring back at him. He got the impression that he wasn't staring at a Warrior of Light, but at a majestic relic from the Cretaceous period, clinging to its mind and instincts in spite of its resurrected state.

 

To Calamity with that, Lightwards thought spitefully. He took a pistol from a nearby human Warrior and pointed it between the raptor's eyes.

 

“Hello, Ladies, Gentleman and those I would expect to meet here. I bring you Toy soldiers to interrogate and new recruits, some dimwitted others brilliant.”

 

Lightwards snapped around upon hearing Nighthound's voice, smiling as a strange procession entered the Museum. He decided to deal with the rebellious raptor later. Epic business always took priority.

 

"A fine crop," Lightwards said, gazing at the assorted individuals Nighthound had brought. There were five hounds trailing inky black smoke behind them, whom he assumed were the "Toy soldiers" Nighthound had mentioned. If they had really worked for CorpseMaker, he would hopefully be able to extract a fair quantity of useful intelligence.

 

He turned his attention to the new recruits. These, he was more unsure of. The first one to catch his attention was a woman wearing bright pink and red garments, her hair bunched into a bun and a tainted monocle in front of her eye. She said nothing as she entered his presence, nor did she even seem impressed by the fact that she had just stepped into a floating primordial jungle in the sky. She simply stared out into space with such a lack of intensity that Lightwards almost suspected her of being a Warrior he'd forgotten about.

 

The other Epic was even more inexplicable. She was a woman with regal bearing, sitting atop Nighthound's Carnotaurus like a queen on parade. She was clothed in tight armor which looked like black crystal, and one of her arms glittered in the dappled sunlight like a limb-shaped diamond. A closer look seemed to confirm this description.

 

Lightwards turned around to smile at Voidgaze and Sightline. "As you can see, our Empire grows by leaps and bounds every day.

 

He switched his attention once again to Nighthound himself, who walked alongside Ray next to the dinosaur. Ray looked worse for wear, with her ear crusted with a substantial quantity of blood.

 

The contrast between Nighthound and Funtimes was actually rather interesting, Lightwards thought with a twitching smile. Funtimes violently protested that her servants were friends and not pets, while Nighthound fixed his with a dog collar and physically abused her.

 

I'm the only sane man among them, Lightwards thought, his twitching becoming a genuine smirk. "Welcome back, Nighthound," he called out to the Epic. "I see you've had good luck on your mission. Would you care to provide me with a full report on your successes?"

 

 

 

Traveler--Nathan--chuckled at Revolution's question. "It was her idea. All hers. I asked for jeans and a T-shirt, and she said no. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I…."

 

He trailed off, his faint smile leaving his face. "Look, I didn't even know she and I were actually dating until this morning, much less if she actually wanted me to tell you. As for the whole Epic thing, it's not worth it. Believe me."

 

Sam nodded solemnly. "Oh, I believe you. These psychotic slontzes are bad enough when they try to ignore you."

 

She looked deeper into the forest, seeing some sort of procession joining Lightwards and the other Epics. She couldn't make out the words, but she recognized Nighthound's voice echoing from the area.

 

Nighthound. He was the poster boy for psychotic slontzes. She'd only actually been anywhere near him once for only a few minutes, and he'd made the most of squicking her out then.

 

"If you don´t like that I can go and play with that Goth over there.”

 

Sam still felt her skin crawl when she thought of that. Lightwards was a pompous prig. Funtimes was the most ridiculous Epic in the Fractured States. They were both monsters to one extent or another, but they were laughable monsters.

 

Nighthound was an animal. If there'd ever been a sliver of humanity inside of him, he'd long since bound it hand and foot before torturing it to death in a torchlit basement.

 

Revolution seemed to glance back and forth between Sam and Nathan, looking slightly dampened by their moods. She still lighted up though, smiling as she pulled them close together. Very gently, in Nathan's case.

 

"So what are we going to do now," she whispered, her voice conspiratorial and her smile mischievous. "Shall we go lampoon us some Epics, or shall we seize upon this wonderfully Funtimes-free environment to plot our escape?"

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

"Oh, I believe you. These psychotic slontzes are bad enough when they try to ignore you."

Nathan smiled slightly, and opened his mouth to spill a litany of casino stories—one about Snakehands in particular—but Sam squinted into the distance, and he turned his head as much as the pain would allow to follow her gaze.

Others had joined Lightwards and Funtimes. He could tell that much, even if foliage blocked most of his view, but it was the voices that made him wish his borrowed power had been his from the beginning. One in particular.

Nighthound. And from his tone, he was in an especially good mood.

A mood that would lift substantially when Lightwards inevitably spilled his secret.

Nathan stopped looking and rested his aching head against the tree. Sam looked as though she would rather fling herself off the edge of the museum than spend one second in Nighthound's presence. He could hardly blame her: As he listened to the feral Epic proclaim his latest crimes against humanity, a free fall through the clouds without a parachute began to look substantially more attractive.

Revolution came between them in that moment, pulling him toward herself and Sam with a gentle hug. "Shall we go lampoon us some Epics, or shall we seize upon this wonderfully Funtimes-free environment to plot our escape?"

Her smile was so mischievous, the lift of her brows so defiant and her tone so mirthful, Nathan couldn't help a laugh.

He wanted to cry.

They were in a museum five thousand feet above the city. Within that museum were undead dinosaurs and living Epics, one of whom could send a starving raptor their way with a word. One of those Epics would threaten him out of it, but there was one who would not listen to her. One who would have crushed her throat had she not melted his side with acid. One who dressed his sidekick in a dog collar. Anything Funtimes did to him, any torture she threatened, would only slow him down and build his rage.

And if by some miracle they did escape the museum, they would have Doctor Funtimes to contend with. Funtimes, who could melt skin with a wave of her hand, who turned clothes to acid and guns to hamsters with equal relish. Whose silliness seemed nothing more than a mask for her darker urges—the same urges Lightwards and Nighthound indulged on a daily basis. Strip away the smiles and the giggles and the childlike vocabulary, and she was every bit as monstrous as the man she'd trapped in tar.

"They are friends. Friends are not for hurting."

"You didn't see her back there," he told Revolution. "I mean, she was bad here, but back there?" He tried and failed to suppress a shudder. "Right now, she's on our side. If we run, we'd be better off with Lightwards."

The name jogged his memory, reminded him of the plan he'd entertained before everything hit the fan. He threw another glance over his shoulder, saw the Epics had not moved any closer, and spoke in a low whisper. "I had an idea, though. To take care of Lightwards—well, his zombies, anyway." It sounded dumb, so dumb now that he was saying it, but he had already told them he had one and he had to forge ahead. "They only listen to him, right? Think they'd listen to just his voice?"

------------------------------------------

It was not the infirmary of a skilled physician, but more of a battlefield hospital Flashpoint led her to.

All of the requisite supplies were there. IVs and gauze were stacked side-by-side on some shelves, while tourniquets and cotton swabs shared space on others. The only item that was organized to any extent was the burn cream, which had a shelf of its own. Tubes and canisters were organized by the severity of the burns they were designed to treat, and the only one that was there in any abundance was that used to treat mild burns.

The staff was a handful of doctors and nurses, all of whom looked up when she entered, studying her with wary eyes. She gave them a smile and a small wave, tugging at a wrinkle in her sleeve.

Why hadn't Altermind simply taken over a hospital? Thoughttown was a large bit of territory. Surely it had absorbed a hospital somewhere along the way; why hadn't he claimed it for his own? Surely it had better supplies than this.

Unless, of course, he simply didn't care.

Panacea was still working out a way to ask why Thoughttown had no proper hospital without sounding ungrateful when his mobile chimed. She was just close enough to hear Altermind's voice:

"Scorch is dead." The announcement came without preamble. "CorpseMaker sent his head in a box. Don't see why he bothered, since it's more than that two-faced imbecile deserved. Did it for the shock value, I suppose."

Panacea waited, frozen, but that was all. Scorch was dead, and Altermind thought a box for his head was too much. The bitterness in his tone was palpable, a force that chilled her where she stood.

A moment of silence passed, and she turned to Flashpoint. "What now?" Edited September 23, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Kobold King he/him]

 

 

The look on Nathan's face made it apparent that he wasn't an optimist.

 

That look covered a wide emotional range, covering amusement, incredulity, and sheer mortal terror all in a lift of the eyebrows. He had a very expressive face, which was probably how he'd kept up his Epic act for as long as he had.

 

"You didn't see her back there," he said weakly, facing Revolution. "I mean, she was bad here, but back there?" He stopped talking long enough to close his eyes and shudder. "Right now, she's on our side. If we run, we'd be better off with Lightwards."

 

Revolution was silent. Truth be told, the thought of Funtimes chasing them down after they escaped hadn't occurred to her. It was a frightening thought on many levels. She'd imagined a daring escape that ended with her back home regaling village youths with tales of her adventure. If she led a crazed Epic right into her commune--an Epic who could turn crops into salt and mountains into milk...

 

Fortunately, Nathan interrupted that line of thought with a sudden thought of his own.  "I had an idea, though," he began nervously. "To take care of Lightwards—well, his zombies, anyway." He hesitated a moment more before continuing. "They only listen to him, right? Think they'd listen to just his voice?" 

 

Samantha looked at him blankly for a moment before her eyes lit up, her purple lips spreading into an enormous smile. "This," Sam said softly. "A thousand times this." She made her voice ridiculously low in a crude approximation of the professor. "Hello Warriors of Light. This is your esteemed leader Lightwards speaking. I'm busy being a self-righteous blowhard right now, so please escort all of Funtimes' servants to the city for me at your earliest opportunity."

 

It was a struggle for Revolution not to laugh loudly enough to alert every Epic in the Museum. "We'd need a bug," she whispered, clenching her side. "I don't know where to get one."

 

Sam scratched her head. "Funtimes could make one, but I don't want her to get suspicious. Maybe..." Sam paused. "She said that Lightwards isn't allowed to hit us, and she even said we could kill him if he tried anything."

 

Eyes involuntarily flickered to the carefully arranged bombs laid out in front of them. They were unsettling in a number of ways, not the least of which was the way they'd been set up. Not in a messy pile. Not in the shape of a kitten. Neatly arranged in a grid with all the efficiency of a soldier or engineer.

 

"If she cares about our safety enough to go full supervillain for us," Sam continued, "Then she should listen to our concerns."

 

"We could spend some time around Lightwards without her around," Revolution mused, "While still letting her know where we are. Sure it won't be fun, but we could tell her that he's been casting subtle threats at us."

 

"We probably won't even be lying," Sam said with a nervous chuckle.

 

"We could let Funtimes know we're worried about our safety," Revolution continued excitedly. "We could tell her we'd feel safer if we could record what he says and contact her at any time."

 

"We get ourselves all wired up, then we follow Lightwards around town till he gives the orders we need," Sam concluded

 

The two of them cast hopeful looks at Nathan.

 

"Think it'll work?" Sam asked eagerly.

 

"You know her best," Revolution added. "You're the one who's kissed her, after all."

[Voidus]

Jeff watched silently as the three introduced themselves, grinning in what he hoped was a menacing way when Cricket delivered her threat.
Momentum Epics? Hmm, that could definitely be useful, very combative, and the museum's already got the advantage of the high ground, they can bombard the entire city from up there, and any flying Epics could be kept at bay too.
His mind was instantly lost in strategies and he almost didn't hear the other Epic introduce himself, or Aldo's question.

"Sorry? The headquarters? Oh yes, the museum! Yes, well we'd best be getting off then, my dear?"

He offered a hand to Marigold who took it, rising gracefully from her seat, the tea set and pastries had all vanished back into wherever she'd secreted them.

"To the flying museum of dinosaurs!" He said, a sarcastic smile on his face, one hand escorting his wife while in the other he juggled a small pebble.

[Tulir he/him]

"He mistook you for another Epic. Obviously you are not said Epic, so pardon the intrusion and I will forgive your tone." 

 

"Forgive my tone?" Parity laughed.  "He is obviously new at this, so you might want to teach him some caution.  But you look like you've been around a while, so no hard feelings about this?"  Parity tossed the dark sphere at the building behind the man and smiled as it exploded.  "Who was the little one talking about?"

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

That one suggestion was like holding a match to paper. 

 

 "This. A thousand times this." She lowered her voice in a mocking imitation of Lightwards' voice, comically deep and only slightly more pompous than the genuine article. "Hello Warriors of Light. This is your esteemed leader Lightwards speaking. I'm busy being a self-righteous blowhard right now, so please escort all of Funtimes' servants to the city for me at your earliest opportunity."

 

Nathan barely had time to clap his hand over his mouth before Revolution chimed in, her voice thick with restrained laughter. "We'd need a bug. I don't know where to get one."

 

"Funtimes could make one, but I don't want her to get suspicious. Maybe...She said that Lightwards isn't allowed to hit us, and she even said we could kill him if he tried anything."

 

"If she cares about our safety enough to go full supervillain for us, then she should listen to our concerns."

 

It was like a ping-pong match. Nathan's gaze flicked from one girl to the other as suggestions were tossed back and forth, refined at the speed of thought. The moment he registered Sam's suggestion, Revolution added one of her own. How do they even keep up with each other? 

 

"We could spend some time around Lightwards without her around, while still letting her know where we are. Sure it won't be fun, but we could tell her that he's been casting subtle threats at us."

 

"We probably won't even be lying." 

 

"We could let Funtimes know we're worried about our safety." Revolution's eyes were alight with an enthusiasm Nathan had never seen—not in Newcago, anyway. "We could tell her we'd feel safer if we could record what he says and contact her at any time."

 

"We get ourselves all wired up, then we follow Lightwards around town till he gives the orders we need." 

 

Two pair of eyes turned hopefully toward him. 

 

"Think it'll work?" There was an eager smile on Sam's face, and she looked for all the world like his little sister had on Christmas morning, before Calamity put an end to that nonsense. 

 

"You know her best," Revolution added. "You're the one who's kissed her, after all."

 

Nathan paused to swallow the only question he could think of: How have you survived this long? Epic-like as that question sounded, he didn't mean it that way. No Newcago Epic would let two girls with this level of intelligence, of stubbornness, of sheer gall live longer than it took to make an example of them. 

 

He suddenly wanted very badly to impress them. To add the coup de grace to the near-perfect plan they had outlined in less than five minutes. 

 

But what he said was: "I don't even know why she kissed me in the first place." 

 

Sparks. He may as well have thrown a gallon of ice water on their cinnamon rolls. 

 

"But I'm pretty sure she'd want to give all the zombies clown outfits, if she found out what we're doing. Conscript them into party duty or something like that." He smiled slightly, imagining it. Lightwards' massive coronary might finish him off for good, if he saw. "But if we tell her he's making threats, she'll probably want to hear everything. So we'll have to make sure he's actually threatening us, if we want her to believe that side of it." 

 

He drew a breath, pausing for time as he considered the implications of their plan. Thought of what Funtimes might do, to learn she'd been fooled. "We should try and get him to say something whimsical or cute. So if she finds out what we're doing, we can tell her we were trying to get them to throw a party for her, or decorate the town in streamers, or something like that." His smile lifted a bit. "Getting him to say anything halfway fun will be hard enough that she won't wonder why it's taken us so long." 

 

[mail-mi he/him]

 

Seth had always planned to betray the Reckoners. 

 

He just didn't think his betrayal would be so...Epic. 

 

He woke up that morning, his mobile blaring an alarm. "Five more minutes..." he moaned. It was way too early to start his day of sneaking around underground, hiding from the Epic turf war above. The Reckoners had gone into hiding a while back, knowing that they'd have to wait for the Epics to destroy each other before they could destroy one themselves. "Just five more minutes." 

 

Suddenly, something shifted. 

 

He looked down at his mobile. Five minutes had passed, though it had seemed like only five seconds. "What the..." he whispered, then tried It again. He didn't know what he'd done before, but he tried to replicate it. 

 

It worked. 

 

Seth smiled. He could jump through time. He mentally tried to jump forward a half hour, and when he looked back down at his mobile, five minutes had passed. Five minutes, then, he thought. He moved to get out of bed--and was suddenly sitting five feet away from his bed. He landed on the floor with a thud. Rubbing his bruised buttocks, he stood up and tried it again. He teleported five feet, appearing right next to his door. Five minutes, five feet. His smile turned wicked. 

 

He had some betraying to do 

Edited November 25, 2014 by mail-mi

[Fatebreaker he/him]

As the building behind him crumbled, Fade shifted his gaze back to the Epic. She had a commendable level of self control, for an Epic. Still, she could go off at any moment. He looked at Maximilian before he could say anything to further antagonize her. Max felt his grandfather's stare and kept his mouth shut, though he resented being referred to as a little one. He knew he had acted rashly, but encountering Epics excited him. He needed to work on his personal discipline, but that was a matter for another time.

 

Fade Returned his gaze to the Epic.

 

"We are looking for en epic named Lightwards. Rumor has it he can raise dinosaurs from the dead and control them. He has also recently staked a claim on a portion of this city and we have come to see if he is interested in an alliance. What are you doing here? Besides causing needless property damage."

Edited September 23, 2014 by Fatebreaker

[Tulir he/him]

"I was investigating the cause of this," Parity gestured to the fleeing rats.  "I noticed the sudden rise in the number of rats, and I traced their source to here.  I wanted to fix the situation, but the Epic responsible attack me, so I dealt with him." She smiled and turned to the building that collapsed on the rat controller.  "And there is definitely no such thing as needless property damage."

[Fatebreaker he/him]

"And there is definitely no such thing as needless property damage."

 

Oh joy. One of those Epics. Behind him Maximilian ineffectively tried to stifle his giggling. Fade cleared his throat and the boy quieted.

 

"Are you a part of an empire or alliance? And if not, would you be interested in joining one?"

 

Bringing recruits was a good way to get on an Epics "good side", if it could be called that. This one could prove useful.

[Kobold King he/him]

 

"To the flying museum of dinosaurs!" Phoenix proclaimed.

 

And so the streets of Portland were graced with seven Epics, striding alongside one another across the grey asphalt. The day was young and the population was terrified, so they saw very few vanillas. Those few that were out on the streets invariably ducked back into their houses upon seeing the procession.

 

I should talk to Lightwards about getting some shows and parades in this town, Aldo mused in his head.

 

Suddenly, there was an explosion.

 

Not nearby, but close. At Aldo's prompting, the seven Epics briefly detoured down a side street, where they found another trio engaged in conversation.

 

The first Epic to catch his attention was a woman in a tie-dyed shirt, standing directly in front of smoldering ruins. A few bits and pieces of roasted rats were strewn about around the street.

 

The other two were polar opposites, but stood close together as if they were allies. One was an old and stern-looking man, dressed in a crisp suit and a top hat. Beside him was a grinning child in a grey hoodie.

 

Aldo was trying to figure out their powers when Backtrack nudged him.

 

"The kid and the geezer are looking for Lightwards," Backtrack whispered. "The other one likes blowing stuff up."

 

Aldo nodded, casting a smile at his new ally. "Good work, Backtrack," he encouraged. "I'll take it from here."

 

He took a few steps towards the group and caught their attention.

 

"Tally-ho," he proclaimed. "Looking for Lightwards, are we? You're in luck. The Empire of Light exists all around you, and we were just heading to meet with the Emperor. You're welcome to accompany us."

 

He tipped his top hat towards the old man. "And if you don't mind me saying, that's a very nice hat."

 

[Edgedancer he/him]

For once Lightwards seemed happy that Nighthound arrived or at least he was happy to see his spoils. Best to start off with the toys then, he had them kneel in a line between Lightwards and himself. “Now, these five are in fact not human and for this one time that isn´t supposed to be an insult. They are literal toy turned into soldiers by an Epic working for Corpsemaker; more of them as well as Transformers are effectively littering his place.”

 

“Next, sorted by mental capacity, would be Candyflame,” the woman in question had wandered off to a jungle plant and started to decorate it with the help a little pouch filled with sugar that she caramelized over the leaves. “Let´s just assume she wants to make an impression. Anyway, she used to live in the outskirts of Corpsemaker´s territory.

 

“Lastly we have this fine lady sitting on my dinosaur, who would be my dear little sister Lucentia, I believe I mentioned her already. In fact she has her own city; you might be able to take some pointers from her. “

 

After the introduction ended he looked up to Lucentia, she finished her survey of the jungle and it seemed she liked it, not that it showed in an obvious way but Nighthound learned the subtle difference her indifferent arrogant face and her current slightly pleased arrogant face. Lightwards, who she currently dissected under her eyes most likely wouldn´t, notice the difference. She ultimately gave him a court nod, he´s lucky she got her own criteria.

 

Nighthound noticed that someone was staring at him, that someone was an angry white girl, he attempted to kill, right Lightwards talked about his unfinished business. He tilted his head to one side and so did Voidgaze. “So, how did not being dead play out for you?” he asked her with an arrogant smile.

“It made me want an apology.” Her voice was cold and controlled.

Nighthound shrugged in feigned ignorance and offhandedly pointed at Lightwards. “He got the formal one but if you want something verbal. I´m sorry that your house got a couple of holes now but you looked really good in those short pants.”

Voidgaze´s scowl deepened but before she could say anything else a fist sized diamond hit Nighthound in the back of his head, sending him stumbling a few steps forward. 

[Fatebreaker he/him]

Before the girl could answer, a large group of people walked around the corner. Epics. No human would come investigate explosions in case they were next on the list of things to be demolished, as well that no human would wear costumes that ridiculous. Fade turned to face them, making sure to keep Max behind him and the girl in his lie of sight. Maximilian sighed, his grandfather was so paranoid. But it had kept him alive for years on the streets and had continued to do so after Calamity, so he didn't complain too often.

 

An Epic in pink sunglasses whispered something in the ear of an Epic wearing what appeared to be a magician's outfit. The Epic nodded and addressed them

 

"Tally-ho," he proclaimed. "Looking for Lightwards, are we? You're in luck. The Empire of Light exists all around you, and we were just heading to meet with the Emperor. You're welcome to accompany us."

 

He tipped his top hat towards the old man. "And if you don't mind me saying, that's a very nice hat."

 

Fades said nothing, but continued to fix him with a look that would wither a full grown oak tree. Max knew that look well, and his training told him what his grandfather would be thinking, "So this Epic just happened to know Lightwards did he. How convenient that he just happened to show up. It reeks of a trap. We're not going anywhere with these guys." Max tugged on his grandfather's sleeve.

 

Relax Pops. Look at it this way. They didn't attack us on sight, which is always nice. Secondly, Look at that guy's hat. It's looks just like yours, which means he probably has a good head for haberdashery." He giggled at his pun, he was on a roll today. "Also, my Meeting revealed that Lightwards has started his Empire quite recently, so it makes sense that he has people out recruiting. And I mean c'mon, look at his eyebrows. They're magnificent. How can you not trust someone with those eyebrows? "

 

He turned to the magician and waved "Hi there. I'm the Sandman, and this grumpus here is Fade. We have come from vast distances to ally ourselves with the mighty Lightwards. How fortunate we were met by someone who knows him. You can take us to him I hope?"

 

Sandman smiled. His grandfather hated using codenames, but Sandman couldn't resist. 

Edited September 23, 2014 by Fatebreaker

[Mailliw73 he/him]

Flashpoint watched as Panacea took in the infirmary. She didn't seem very impressed, but after all, it wasn't much to be impressed by. His mobile went off and he heard Altermind's voice, "Scorch is dead. CorpseMaker sent his head in a box. Don't see why he bothered, since it's more than that two-faced imbecile deserved. Did it for the shock value, I suppose." Flashpoint was shocked, and that didn't happen to him too often. Usually he was the one shocking others. He didn't know how he felt. He was glad that Scorch was no longer a taint on the human race, but the fact that Corpsemaker killed him after just a couple days scared him. How prepared was he, to be able to kill his fire Epic so quickly. Granted, Scorch was lazy and probably didn't endear himself to Corpsemaker at all.

As Flashpoint thought, the infirmary was silent. A couple of the staff had heard the announcement too. Pan turned to him and asked, "What now?"

"Now we prepare even harder for battle, because if Corpsemaker kills a fire Epic after a couple days, he has to have some serious firepower on his side. I don't know what it is, but he must have some advantage. Scorch is dead though, which relieves me. He can no longer abuse humanity. The burn he left on so many people's minds will not be soon forgotten," Flashpoint responded. "Do your work here quickly. Altermind will probably call a council soon." Edited September 23, 2014 by Mailliw73