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Queenie just sighed. Another thing she didn’t know anything about, and a kid suffering that she couldn’t do anything to help. “No, sunshine. This one’s my first time.†It was a little weird to be using that line again, but whatever. Not like the context was that different. “Unless…I was in first grade for the Terminus Invasion, does that count?†She pointed down, where the center of the psychics was. “Don’t you worry, Mister Forward. They might come up for air at some point, and I left my munchies down there for them.†Sure enough, that overstuffed hiking backpack was sitting right where she pointed. “They’re open to everybody, but it might not be a good idea to open the pot just now. Never know when Chainy’ll come back.â€

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“My memory is shot before I woke up just under a year ago, maybe I should as one of these psychics to have a poke around...†she gestured to the protected heroes around them

 

“But I have vague recollections of being in the middle of an invasion, one possibly much worse than this even this.â€

 

Potentially horrendous memories floated at the edge of her memory stubbornly refusing to manifest fully, all she felt was feelings of despair and anger

 

“I’ve lost everything once before, I don’t plan to lose it again, let’s do this.â€

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  • 3 weeks later...

"A real invasion? No, can't say I have." Net Fly responded dejectedly. He clenched his fists, as if to fight off a feeling of shame, before finally gathering his resolve. Removing his mask, Net Fly revealed the face inside his suit, that of Serge Explinker. Fast Forward had already been privy to it, but seeing as the heroes were fighting for a common goal here, one that could very well determine the continued existance of their planet. "But I AM fighting one now, and that's all that counts. My name's Serge. I graduated from Clairemont Academy. Currently, I'm studying Computer Sciences in Freedom City's Hanover Institute of Technology. And I'm gonna do everything in my power to help all of you fend off the invading forces, and you, Mr Fast Forward, to save your daughter." Though some blood trickled from his bitten lip, courtesy of the communion drone's attack, Serge kept a straight and serious face.

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"I was thirty back in '93." All superheroes, and most Freedom City citizens, meant only one thing when they referred to _that_ year. Jesus Christ, first grade and she's a grown woman now. "Paige and I were actually in the city those days. Ground Zero - back when there was no Freedom League, and we knew that if we screwed up, we were all gonna die and that was the end of that." He kipped up and looked at the other heroes, surprised but not displeased when Serge showed his face. "Nice to meet you, Serge. My name is Richard Cline, and I've seen some things." He thought of fire, and screaming, and the terror of imminent death. "This is bad. But we've done this before, and God help us we're probably gonna do it again." He felt old, looking down at those young faces, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling - something he had to admit, in his heart of hearts, was a rare thing. "For all our kids." 

 

Time went on and on - and it gradually became clear that, for them, anyway, the battle wasn't going to renew itself any time soon. The sky was clear and blue and the air around them tropical warm on what promised to be a lovely evening. The sun finally set after lingering for an hour or two in a long, gorgeous sunset, and above their heads the stars were vast and deep, a rich blanket of jewels cast across black, sparkling velvet. It was hard to believe something so small as an alien armada was coming for their little planet beneath all of that, 

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When young Serge tearfully removed his mask and made his vow, Grimalkin was deeply moved; she stepped over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder, and gave it a little squeeze. "Nice to meet you, Serge; you did good tonight." After Fast-Forward spoke, she felt it was only fair that she was a bit more open; In general, she trusted other heroes to keep her secret, though she always respected those who guarded their identities more closely.

 

There was a swirl of mist, and once again the young barefoot woman in a big sweater and black tights they'd visited earlier that night stood before them. "My name's Lynn Epstein, and it was good to work with you all; if you stop by Silberman's Books in the West End, heroic defenders of Earth save fifteen percent!" Triakosia recognized the bookstore owner she interviewed several months ago; small world! Then the changeling resumed her heroic identity and waved a hand at the defenses around the psychics.

 

"So, do we think it's safe to take this down?"

Edited by Heritage
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“It’s a lot easier for you Mr Cline you identity is plastered all over the television on an almost daily basis. But if things are that serious a display of trust would hurt at this moment. I’m Dancia Devon’s a reporter for the Ledger.â€

 

Unlike most of them here Dancia didn’t wear any form of mask instead it was more about how she carried herself when she was Triakosia. She relaxed for a moment and those had already met her could she the “real†Dancia. She was surprised sometimes that people didn’t recognize her more often, maybe they didn’t see beyond the breastplate.

 

“You provide excellent cookies by the way Ms Epstein, and no I wouldn't lower our defences just yet they may be trying to get us to lower our defences.â€

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