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Date: April 1st, 2019. Noon-ish. Freedom Hall, the city-based headquarters of the city's -- if not the world's -- premiere superhero team, had received an unusual visitor. A man once welcome in those halls, who had worked and played alongside those esteemed heroes, was counted amongst their number... and then who fell, thoroughly and abruptly. He had retreated to seclusion for extended treatment, of both mind and body. Now, many years later, he had returned to Freedom, and was filling his former colleagues in on what he had been up to. Well, he hadn't gotten to his colleagues yet. Doktor Archeville was still in the ground floor reception area, talking with Cynthia, the League's not-quite-sentient robot receptionist. He was in disguise, as a German tourist (in socks & sandals, with a large backpack), asking mildly inane question vocally, but using his technopathic abilities to have a real conversation with her via radio. "... and it wasn't until I was certain that the Communion was gone from the system that I left that planet and returned here. Well, not here-here, but here, to Earth. I went back to therapy, and the therapist remarked how my time away seemed to have done me some good, so we started re-acclimating me to working with the public. Small steps at first, of course, working undercover as a handyman, posing as an apprentice who was being shown around by his mentor -- and supervisor. Eventually I did some work as a substitute teacher, again still in disguise, getting more exposure to working with groups, proving some guidance and mentorship to them." He sighed wistfully, "that felt very rewarding, and made me quite happy. And now I am here, back in Freedom, to touch base with folks, speak with those I had not spoken with since the... incident -- assuming they even will speak with me -- and admit the exact nature of my wrongs & attempt to make amends to them all. I know some may refuse, some may never forgive, but I must make sincere attempts at reconciliation."

The English Countryside Thursday December 20, 2018 12:13 PM, local time The Harrows' Land Rover turned onto a narrow country road, having passed through a small little town in the English countryside. The four occupants of the vehicle were currently quiet, all prior conversations having wound down over the last few hours now since leaving London. Lulu had flow into England with her foster family on Saturday, the family spending the first five days of their holiday trip taking in a few of the sites, festivities and shopping of the city. But after the hustle and bustle of the city, they were now on their way to the more subdued setting of Robert’s family estate in the countryside. The weather outside was about what one might expect for England this time of year. Overcast and cold (but a bit warmer than Freedom City had been when they have left). So far there had been no rain today, but how long that might last was uncertain. The country road they were driving along was lined with tall hedges, but beyond could be seen a small orchard on one side and a lightly forested field on the other. After a couple of hundred meters, the hedges gave way and they came upon a towering old country estate. The main section of the home stood some four stories tall, while the wings were about half that height, and looked to be at least two hundred years old. As Robert pulled the Land Rover up in front of the main entrance to the estate, a well-dressed older gentleman appeared through the door, wasting no time in making his way down toward the vehicle as it came to a halt.

GM Claremont Academy October 31 2018 10:13 PM Halloween was almost always hectic night for the heroes of Freedom City, with all kinds of occult madness happening all over the city. Most of Claremont's faculty was off campus dealing with it right this moment. The same used to be true for a lot of Claremont's students but since Headmistress Summer's crackdown on late night teen superheroing most students were spending All Hallow's Eve having parties off campus. Sam Thorn knew all this. In fact, it was one of the reasons why he and the rest of the other students that made up the Hidden Convenant decided to have the ritual tonight. It made sense at the time. The school would be mostly deserted, the wards would weakened without the teachers being around to bolster them, and Halloween was just altogether a great day for late-night summoning. As Sam ran down down an another empty hallway, his hands filled with an ancient tome that felt so heavy in them, and looked for someone, anyone, that could help him he tried to remember that things weren't supposed to be this way. He wasn't supposed to covered in sot and other things we didn't want to even think about. He wasn't supposed to be alone and scared out of his mind. And he was supposed to feel like some presence was getting closer and closer to him no matter how much he ran. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't supposed to be this way..." He kept repeating those words over and over again as he ran. Maybe if said them enough times everything would go back to normal. When he finally spotted a rec room with a light on it Sam immediately barged right in there huffing and coughing as he entered. He didn't know the people in the room but that didn't matter. He needed their help if he was going to save his friends and his soul. "Please! Oh God, please help me!"

Starbase Coffee, Freedom City 1st June 2018, 10:00 am It wasn't often that you got to meet a namesake but sat across from Hypno-Hippie was one, Lucy S Diamond. When London was swinging in the sixties as well as being a hero she was hanging with all the big names including her fellow Liverpudlian the Beatles, though all involved denied (somewhat weakly)) that she inspired that song. Despite the intervening years she still looked as stunning as ever dressed casually but still looking classy sipping on her coffee. "Are you all right pet? Bit of a shock I know but I need your help with summin'."

Main Quad, Claremont Academy Bayview, Freedom City, New Jeresy Monday, Febraury 18, 2019; 8:35 AM The morning sun had done little to warm the cold morning air thus far as it began to shine over the open air courtyard located at the front entrance of Claremont Academy. Veronica Danger stood toward the front entrance, not far from the grass circle in the center where stood a statute of Dr. Charles Claremont. The teenage Danger was dressed in dark green cargo pants, a pair of well-worn hiking boots and a long sleeved brown shirt with a winter jacket over it. The rest of the quad was deserted as the school was closed today. Veronica was out waiting to meet a new student that was arriving this morning so she could provide him a tour and help get him settled in.

December 20 2018 Claremont Academy It was December 20 and Watchdog was distracted. Ashley was thinking of the game schedule for the coming week and which ones she'd be able to check out from her favorite DC bars, and of seeing her mom and her actual sisters again (not that she didn't care for her charge, poor kid, but she wasn't actually her sister) - and also the common room was overrun with preteens with superpowers. It was the sort of situation to put any bodyguard on edge. It didn't help that Judy turned out to be great with little kids, having admitted privately to her sister that she'd always wished that she'd had more younger siblings. The youngest group of Nicholson students, a half-dozen or so kindergarten age kids, had been following her around all day, in the company of their teacher, a thick-glassed and big-haired young woman named Jessie Lupine who practically smelled of granola. Ms. Lupine had been content to let Judy stay close to her charges, though she was patiently watching as Judy led the kids in another round of Itsy-Bitsy-Spider. All around the common room, Nicholson kids were hanging out with Claremont students, the oldest of the latter on the anxious edge of teen, the youngest rambunctious gradeschool kids running around and giggling with the energy of small children when it was late at night. There were adults here too, Nicholson teachers watching their students, Claremont teachers watching both, but for the most part it was "Christmas Big Sibling Camp!" all the way. She caught sight of the Blue Team; a girl in a Disney dress chatting with Pan, a boy with electricity sparking in his eyes sitting next to Adam on the couch, a scaly child of indeterminate gender in Leroy's company, and a girl in forest brown discoursing with Arctos in Russian by the sleeping bags. That was the other great thing about tonight - the last night before Watchdog and Pulse went off for "special training". It was a sleepover. So freaking great.

GM John Smith's most recent job had run well past sundown, and the closest bus had still dropped him ten blocks away from his shabby Downtown motel. Five blocks into his hike, he spotted a yellow Chevy Camaro 5G with its driver-side door hanging open. It was parked on the right side of the street, facing him head-on, a couple blocks away. The passenger door was adjacent to the sidewalk, but closed. He thought he could see someone in the passenger seat, but the driver seat was empty. There was some kind of dark lump sitting on the street behind the open driver door. Twenty stories above Smith, Arrowhawk perched atop the crumbling faux-Gothic stone facade of a half-empty tower. Even with half the lights burned out on this street, her eagle-eyes could read the license plate, confirming that the Camaro belonged to Mike Donaghy, the Scarpia family associate she'd been stalking for the last few weeks. He extorted protection money from several lower-tier businesses in the worse parts of Downtown, and she'd planned to intercept him along his usual pick-up route. One of those businesses was a convenience store a few blocks away. She'd doubled back on the most likely route when he didn't show. From above, she had a much more clear view of the situation. It was obvious to her that the lump in the street behind the car door was a person, halfway into the fetal position but unmoving.

January 2019 Gina Evans' House It was a Sunday morning when Miss Americana had nothing particular to do that Gina awoke without Steve - which was not uncommon in their relationship. His cybernetically enhanced constitution meant that he slept at odd hours and his troubled dreams meant he slept erratically even then. Given how stealthy Steve could be when he wanted to be (especially since he'd figured out all the boards that creaked when he stepped on them in this house), she'd awoken with the other side of the bed empty many times. What was unusual today was there was a note on her endtable, a carefully printed bit of block penmanship inside an Archetech postcard. FRIAR TUCK. A codeword (from the ancient pre-Internet days of hacking) that everything was fine. I AM IN THE KITCHEN. I WILL MAKE FOOD. YOU SHOULD COME OUT WHEN YOU ARE READY. The last was underlined. Her bathroom was between her and the kitchen anyway. It was easy enough to call up an image from one of the robots zipping around the home to get an image of Steve working in the kitchen on the hash browns and eggs that were the best of what he cooked, and the meticulously set kitchen table with papers on one side and a small wrapped box on the other. They hadn't done much for Christmas that year outside of their home - but this was one present he'd managed to keep to himself.

South River December 24, 2018 7:24 PM Henry 'Tug' Stacy whistled a carol to himself as he guided his tugboat back toward the Riverside docks for the night. His daughter was old enough this year to really understand what was going on and had gone ga-ga for Christmas so he'd rented a Santa suit and was eager to get back home by the time she'd be sneaking out of bed. It had been a quiet afternoon and evening, just cold enough for a light snowfall to fill the air but not enough to begin icing over the water. Tug lost the tune as his boat lurched abruptly. The experienced sailor quickly reoriented but frowned; he was far enough from the bay that there shouldn't have been much turbulence. Leaning out through the window of his cab he peered out into the gathering dark, with only his own runners and the distant lights of the docks illuminating shapes. He watched as a piece of driftwood bobbed by, a pile of birch branches clumped together and rising five or six feet above the surface. As Tug scratched idly at his bushy red beard there was another, more violent lurch and he rushed back to the wheel, wrenching to one side against the inexplicable wave. His jaw hung slack as the birch branches rose higher and higher out of the water until he could see whole trees lashed together. They were joined by curving shapes the size of city buses Tug gradually recognized as something like goat horns. His boat went into a spin as a massive form followed, skyscraper tall and covered in dark, matted fur that shed water in great sheets. Great iron chains hung from its wrists, clanging with the timbre of cannonballs and it gripped the birch trees in one clawed hand. The other held the thick strap of some massive thing slung over its back, some sort of great cylinder with an uneven, woven texture. The tugboat gradually slowed its spin as the behemoth strode up and out of the river, heading in the opposite direction: away from Riverside and toward Bayview.

February 2019 Midnight Manor Loyal worker though she was, February was not exactly Aquaria's season for outdoor work. She could stand very cold water, but air was different and it was nearly freezing out there! So instead she was working in one of the Manor's big kitchens today, cleaning the hard-to-reach areas up on top of the cabinets, and cooking up steaks as she went. The fine fat fish she'd caught earlier that year was more than half her height and thick, and had been soaking for a whole day in big pots full of delicious-smelling things. Now things were cooking on the stove, and soon there'd be enough fish for herself, Jessie, and perhaps Trevor and Erin as well! They had been content to let her salt the fish and store it in their home for a while, her apartment with Jessie lacking the kind of space one needed to store significant quantities of really good fish. She had other reasons for wanting to talk to them too, especially when Jessie wasn't around. She sang to herself as she worked, hopping from foot to foot, and opened the front of her suit to smell the good things sizzling on the stove. She was in her suit for a variety of reasons, comfort when she went outside, and also so she didn't make too much of a mess in a place where Surfacers made their food. She knew what they sometimes thought of that, even though Jessie was typically too kind to say anything. They could be so fastidious!

The Claremont Courtyard. It was a moment of scattering brilliance, as motes of white lights erupted and faded leaving her standing in the air with Pan, an index finger poking at the tip of his nose. Her power around her in that digitized swirling distortion. Now, if Corinne was poise and grace, then Zenith was a wildfire. One who didn't want to be contained by dancing in the gym. While she loved to perform, it was rare she just could dance for the enjoyment of it, and it well up like a lava in a volcano, which led to now. With one hand going to her skirts, she gathered them up, and started to truly dance with him. She started to flatly show off what her years of dedication translated to in movement through space, when unconstrained by the limits she imposed on herself, or the fear of her powers. She was in love with them now. It responded to her, and it was a light show around them.

GM Union Rail Yards March 6th, 10:30 PM The shock had slowly settled, but the old security guard that had been patrolling the rail yards was still rattled by what he had seen. Even now, as his flashlight illuminated the victim, he was trembling. He had seen his fair share of bad in the twenty-something years that he had worked security here, but seeing a body still sent a shiver up his spine. And this particular body was not just some poor man lying with a lead in his gut. No, this one was a man, dressed in a nice suit, strung up on the side of one of the old, unused train cars. The thing was supposed to have been scrapped years ago, but it had just been pushed back. No rush, didn't cost them anything. The victim was hanging on the side of the train. His arms were stretched up, bound in heavy chains that went around the train, going under it where they were attached to his feet. His suit still looked nice, still looked fine, but blood had seeped into it from his wrists and ankles, where the bands on the chains had cut into his skin and flesh. The man's face was a massive bruise. He had been beaten to death, it seemed. But perhaps most stunning was the the five letters that had been painted across the train and the man, in bright pink. T A L O N. The security guard was quick to call it in to the police. The rumors of what had happened would spread quickly.

GM March 9th, late evening The sky was black, and it was raining. There might even be thunder and lightning later. It was that kind of smell in the air. Particularly on the rooftops. It might be raining more than rain, this night. A small gang of men held another man by his legs over the side of the building. It was a good thirty feet drop. He might survive, if he landed right. But being dropped head first was not the best way to land right. It was the best way to spray brains all over the pavement. "Please! Please!" he yelled, in a Japanese accent. The five men who were tormenting him looked thick and heavy set. Hard men, but not the brightest. "Give it up" demanded one of the thugs. "Where is he? You really want to die for him, you Yakuza scum? This city belongs to us, y'hear? Big Al and the Mob!" Perhaps he should not have been speaking so loudly. For Talon was prowling not far away!

February 1, 2019 Common room Kord Building 1st Floor Even hanging Valentine paper ribbons hadn't solved Judy's tension, so as she and Ashley headed into the first floor common room (the latter first, as always) she kept an anxious eye out for Corinne. I really really hope she is not Zenith tonight because I need her to be here for me and not be up her own butt! I have serious problems! Having never liked a guy before, liking two guys was a problem as serious as anything else she had to deal with on a day-to-day basis. While Judy took a seat on one of the couches by the puzzles, Ashley scanned the room - a couple of people playing video games, a couple of people reading, a couple of people pretending like they wanted to study, a couple that was going to get a lecture about fraternization if one of the dorm monitors came in...honestly pretty typical for Friday night. She was looking forward to later when she could settle in with a book. Judy had bought her the book by Paul Chappell for Christmas - it was a nice gesture even if it was mostly good for helping her sleep.

Terrifica was a busy woman, it was true. Deduction, crime fighting, husband, a child in Nicholsen, a second child going there in the fall, and of course being an associate professor pf physics at MIT. However, when Hero House got in touch and said that people would like to hear from the reclusive super genius, she didn't think it would take much out of her busy schedule. So she made an account, SimplyTerrifica, and posted in the correct forum.

GM December 7th 2018 7 PM Royal Arena, Copenhagen The Danish winter was, as it almost always was, cold, windy and wet. Still, it was December! Christmas lights were hung all over Denmark, celebrations had started. Gifts were being bought, Santa was visiting stores. Advent calenders were being opened, and Christmas trees bought. And Christmas dinners and parties were as popular as ever. Almost every business, office or shop held one. Those had not prepared far in advance were left with little luck. Almost everyone went to one such party. And yet, on this day, December 7th, a Friday, which would usually be one of the busiest days for Christmas dinners, they were left empty. For on this day, the Royal Arena was absolutely packed. Every single seat in the arena was filled, with children and adults of all ages. For Zombo! had come to town, to put on his frightfully spectacular Christmas show! One night only, this night only! 16.000 seats filled, all excited, all waiting for Zombo! to begin! And something else was watching. Something older.

The Dive, University Hill, Emerald City South Saturday, March 2, 2019 11:03 PM As far as first dates were concerned, this one was going pretty well so far. The Dive had been the right choice of location. Relatively small and cozy, the bar was nested away in an alley only a short walk away form the more active nightclubs that up most of University Hill's nightlife. It was one of the insider tips when it came to places to go in the area. After all, how many bars offered regular live music? The band, some local up-and-coming indie country rock act just started their next song as Hakim returned to the table, drinks in hand. "And I'm back, sorry that took so long, they're a lot busier than usual tonight." He set down both the glasses, and then took the seat across the table from his date. Hakim hadn't been sure about the whole online dating thing. He'd heard mixed things in general, and he knew the tech aspect enough to know just how transparent it made him. But his colleagues-slash-friends had pushed him to finally do something beyond work and whatever he spent his free time doing, so he did sign up. So far, he wasn't regretting it. This Ishmael guy was pretty cute, and interesting too. A bit young, but it wasn't really something that stood out. "So, anyways, as I was saying, we ended up having to pull a nightshift inside the hospital in order to deal with…" There was a loud rumbling, seemingly coming out of the walls and wooden beams inside the bar, and Hakim stopped talking. It was replaced by the sound of glass shattering almost immediately, as the bottles by the bar literally flew off the shelves, and slammed into the wall across the room, which immediately provoked quite a bit of screaming. The band stopped playing, especially once they – and everybody else in the room – saw that the liquids inside the bottles had not splashed to the ground. They were floating in the air, like one could see in those space videos, gathering up into what Hakim decided to dub a "Floating Long Island Iced Tea.". Hakim looked pretty shocked, like everybody else in the room, especially once the table he and Ishmael were sitting on started to rumble, much like all the others in the room, and their respective drinks suddenly looked very stirred. And to make matters worse, judging by the screaming, this was happening outside too….

GM Dec 5th 2018 Emerald City University Majorie Doors, the administrator of ECU was a pleasant enough middle lady in person. But, when it came to gossip, she was political. And when it came to politics, she was a gossip. A slightly sour lady with a big mouth, she had a rather firm attitude to immigrants, and was most pleased to let everyone know how noble and correct her firm attitude was. And today, she was most keen to complian to Ms. Robin Langley. Again. "Its disgaceful, you know!" she complained. "They are setting up a new immigration asylum centre in the Northern suburbs. The suburbs! Pff. Can you imagine the poor honest hard working people there!" she hissed, sure that everybody shared her view, because her view was surely common sense! "The crime, apparently, is through the roof!" she explained. "They should not have built the roof at all!" she added, pleased with her pun. "Housing all those Mexicans there, in one building! A breeding ground from criminals and crime!" At this point, every sentence simply had to have an exclamation mark. Perhaps even every word. "I! Will! Not! Stand! For! It!" she said indignantly. "Jack Jackson, the reporter, is doing a special on the crime there tonight. And I will join the protesters! No wonder people have tried to sabotage the building!"

Even as the tension left by the HATERS gathering in Liberty Park slowly died down, for the time being, at least, and the heroes of Freedom City were all going about their daily lives and stopping threats to innocent people as they came, another event was already being set up. Ads were placed on what seemed to be every single bus stop and lamppost in the city, with each one having phone number tear-off tags for people to take. If one were to take the time to read one of the ads, it would read, in a psychedelic font... We are living in a New Age of Gods and Monsters! So are you prepared to be enlightened on the divinity of the superhuman? If so, the Super Freaks and Pinnacle Path invite you to hear the message of the Creator and reconnect with the self and nature in a gathering that will be as far out as Nirvana itself! All people are welcome, regardless of whether or not you have powers! We will also be answering any questions you might have, so ask away! We will also be recruiting, for any who are interested in joining us! Notable guests will include the famous hero the Third Eye and our newest addition to the collective serving the Creator's will, the Hypno-Hippie. Admission is only $4 for adults 18 and up, $2 for children 4-17, and completely free of charge for children 3 and under. All proceeds will go directly to Greenpeace. Saturday, May the 12th at 1:00 PM at Liberty Park in Freedom City, New Jersey There will be music, too Free food and alcohol will be provided Call 555-108-SUPER for more information, or take a tear-off below As the days passed, tents, as well as a small stage, complete with speakers and a microphone, were all being set up. Rumors as to just what this "message" of these "Super Freaks" was were all over the place, and concerns that this might be the beginning of a violent cult, but since this was a charity event, and actual agents from the Greenpeace fund came by and confirmed their connections to this event, the Freedom City government let it pass. Comrade Frost, Thoughtspeed, and the third Scarab, as well as typical guards, had all been hired by the city government as security detail, to keep an eye on not only this Super Freaks religious movement and see what they make of it, but also to make sure the event goes as smoothly as possible, as the agents of Freedom City's government who hired them to do so realized that some people might not take too kindly to the idea of superpowered beings being worshipped as gods. Which leads us to the day of the actual gathering. May 12th, 2018 12:20 PM Liberty Park Grand Lawn Like the lovechild of Woodstock and an outdoor religious sermon, the lush, green fields were dotted with folding tents whose canopies had a tie-dye design on them, folding tables underneath them filled with fruits, vegetables, alcohol, but no meat. The stage overlooking it all had the Super Freaks logo and font on its background, and immediately preceding the stage, rows and of folding chairs were arranged in a very neat, orderly fashion, with a few spaces in between each section so people could get in and find their own chairs. Quite a few of the seats had been filled already. Several visitors had blatant mutations or "tells" that marked them as Terminus babies, mutants, magical beings, or what have you, though most of them were outwardly human. It is apparent that visitors from all ages and walks of life were anything from curious, to hopeful, to apprehensive, to something else entirely depending on the person you asked, as to just what this message of "the divinity of the superhuman" even was. The city had seen its fair share of self-styled gods with superpowers, as well as actual divine beings, more than a few of them supervillains and superheroes, so some people didn't know what to expect. In this town, you had to be prepared for anything. Even so, no one has actually started anything disruptive, yet at least. Many of them are currently waiting patiently, or perhaps impatiently, for the speakers to show themselves and make this whole thing worth their while. The entire event was fenced off, like a concert, from the rest of the park, though several openings in the fences were there, for some members of the staff to take admission money as more and more people waited in line to get in. The staff in question would be by far the most eye-catching of them all. Identified by their stereotypical hippie clothing, these were apparently members of the Super Freaks association, and some of them had blatant outward differences from the normal human form as well, like how one had butterfly wings, and how another looked like a giant horned humanoid tiger. Many of them were catering, setting up equipment, handing out flyers and schedules, or playing music on their instruments to entertain some of the bored children. With forty minutes until the start of the actual sermon, the heroes have some time to kill...

Early Spring 2019 Claremont Cafeteria A few weeks after the incident where the duplicates of superheroes showed up at Freedom City, Veronica was just starting lunch when she was interrupted by Judy Smith. Judy and her sister generally gave the Dangers a wide berth, but today Judy looked burdened with purpose and Ashley looked vaguely mortified through the usual air of disdain she tried to project. "Veronica? Can Ah talk to you for a minute?" asked Judy, who of course had no food. Judy usually didn't come into the cafeteria either, come to think of it.

In the past year, three racing champions had been murdered by, of all things, an archer. The shots were, in a word, impossible. The female sailor racer had been killed at sea, with nothing around for miles. The male dogsled racer was found when his dogs dragged him and his sled back into town. There’d been a killing blizzard that had shut down travel to the miles wide region for over a week, and the locals swore up and down nobody else had set out on the trail. The third had been a female marathoner, struck down in the American Southwest while training. In the desert. With several witnesses who swore nobody else was around for miles. September 28, 2018. Freedom City. Just outside Ashton and Grenville. Horizon Festival Main Stage. 9 AM. There would be over a hundred different races held, in varying skill rankings. Anyone with a driver’s license and an automobile that could pass an inspection could enter at the lowest level. The highest, however, was reserved for those who had proven their superiority over the competition. At stake? Honor, pride, and a trainload of cash. The Horizon Festival had come to Freedom City, and it was a madhouse. It was a street rally racing event primarily, but you wouldn’t know it from the stages set up what seemed like all over town. There was going to be three dozen bands playing at one time or another the entire weekend. Vendors had set up in sight of what seemed like every stage. Mechanics Alley was also open to onlookers, even if only the pro cars had slots booked in it. Because oh, yes indeed. The world’s finest street rally racers had followed the Festival to Freedom. Dominic Cortez was the grudgingly acknowledged best street rally racer in the world. He wasn’t worried about anything today. He’d drive in the kickoff race, but only for a lap. Any real racing, for him, wouldn’t be until tomorrow afternoon. As the world’s #1, he was automatically entered into the S class, highest at the Festival. The people who were worried were his agent and mechanic, Darius Greer and sister Sofia. He only trusted blood to work on his wheels. After the last murder, racing champions had gone into seclusion across almost all of racing. They only poked their heads out for events, and even then under astonishingly heavy security. Dominic Cortez was the sole exception. Leaning against the door of his car, he watched the MC blather on. The man was charismatic and effective, Dom would give him that, but honestly? Dom just wanted to get on the track already.

Hunter Museum of Natural History North End, Freedom City, New Jersey Thursday, October 18, 2018; 7:25 PM The Hunter Museum of Natural History had recently achieved something of a major coup among American antiquities museums, managing to obtain a showing of an impressive collection of Egyptian artifacts only unearthed a few years earlier on loan from the Cairo Museum. The Hunter Museum was aided in this endeavor in no small part by its connections with Danger International, which had been one of the main organizations funding the dig. In fact, members of the Danger family had been instrumental in planning the location of the dig and had been present for the major discovery. As such, the museum had worked with Danger International to have Veronica Danger speak at the opening event for the exhibition to discuss her and her parents’ work. Two of Veronica's fellow Claremonters, Elizabeth Grey and Kam Kingdom, had expressed some interest in the exhibit when they had heard her discussing it with Janus over lunch a week ago. So Veronica had made sure Prudence arranged tickets to the opening night event for the two. Now the two teenagers were seated in the crowd of well-dressed men and women that were gathered for the presentation that was the start of the opening night of the exhibit. Seats had been arranged in one of the larger rooms off the main lobby, a small podium set up toward one end of the room where the chairs were facing, and a large projection screen having been set up to one side of the podium. The room was filled with the sounds of various conversations as those gathered awaited the start of the opening presentation.

Jack was never late for sound check. Yet here they were in Freedom City of all places, missing their drummer. They'd been looking for him all day. Last they saw him he was half down a bottle last night. Still, he never was this late. Tanya and Brandon strummed a few notes as Serena harmonized, but no drummer. It was weird. He hadn't answered his phone once. Two hours until the gig was supposed to start. Brandon and Serena looked to Tanya. "C'mon, you ain't got some of that evil magic juju that can find a lost person," Brandon said half silly half desperate. Serena laughed at the dark tone, "don't worry, man. If he doesn't come soon, she'll drink his half of the bottle. And we'll all split his share," she said as if the threat of losing either would send him through the door of the bus. It didn't Tanya sighed She had already drank his half. "Yeah, I'm worried too guys. Not like him. At all." She pressed her eyelids closed, focusing on her friend. Nope. Nothing. She canted a few gibberish words that sounded magical. But really she could have been shouting for a magical doctor to appear and it would have done the same thing. "Bombay's not in, man."

Thanksgiving 2018 Nightingale's warehouse Nicci's place had advantages over Anna's - it was bigger, cleaner, and you didn't need to start generators to turn on the lights. It was a good place for Thanksgiving dinner, and so it was tonight. Anna was at the head of the table, her hair up and wearing the pseudo-Victorian dress Nicci liked, looking down at a table that seemed, well, not exactly like her family but was close enough for now. There was Esperanza on one side, her styled hair dyed a mix of red and black that matched her crimson shirt and black dress, Jason across the table, the two of them shooting each other looks like feuding siblings, and Nicci next to Anna herself. Anna had had big plans to make a Honduran Thanksgiving for her sidekick's benefit, but an irritated Esperanza had fired back that her mom had never bothered with that stuff anyway. So instead they had what could optimistically be described as an all-American Thanksgiving; roast turkey and cranberry from the can, stuffing from the box and mashed potatoes from same, and a sweet potato casserole Anna had picked up somewhere that had marshmellows cooked brown on top. Esperanza was eating and not saying much; which was about as good as it got. It was going to be a good day. Anna reached under the table and squeezed Nicci's hand, smiling at her. "Happy Thanksgiving, honey," she said softly. Maybe nothing here was on the menu for Nicci - but she was going to make sure Nicci ate well that night.

February 10, 2019. 2 AM. The Waterfront. A Warehouse. Everyone knew weapons were smuggled into and out of Freedom via The Waterfront and it’s many warehouses. One would get raided by cops, AEGIS, or even superheroes now and then, but the flow in and out never entirely ceased. These were going to be shipped out. The crew involved were newcomers to Freedom City. Normally they worked further south, out of Miami, but this was too good of a deal to pass up. Yes, even to risk the wrath of Freedom’s vast multitude of superheroes and AEGIS’s unofficial headquarters. So here they were. They called themselves the Bad Boys, after the two movies. At any rate, the buyer would be here shortly to both pay and take possession of the shipment. After which, the Bad Boys would hop on the motorcycles and get the hell out of this crazy town. This was the plan. But the plans of low level criminals in Freedom City seldom went right.