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April, 2024 Nighttime. Claremont Academy usually had relatively peaceful nights. While there were plenty of super-powered kids and some of them were trouble makers, the school as a whole had enough activities that they rarely 'acted out', so to speak; between lessons of schooling and lessons of using powers. There were a few exceptions. One of these was Sam Durado, who had more than a little habit of leaving when she got too frustrated with the school. She was never gone long, but it had been a consistent issue, enough that she was starting to get a bit of a reputation for sneaking out at night and going off on her own- and often missing a few morning classes in the way. What Sam had not been expecting was for Michael to be waiting for her. This had devolved into an angry argument outside the dorm that people were very strenuously trying to avoid, not wanting to get between the two best friends having an argument on the dorm; this wasn't a full on fight, after all, it was just an argument. At least it was, until Sam stomped on Michael's foot and flew off while he was still cursing over the underhanded move. "Sam! Come on!" he yelled at her leaving back. "...You gotta be kidding me." he sighed, looking up into the sky. That is the scene that Mizuki and Vueriz ended up wandering into as Michael ran a hand through his hair and let out another swear. "...Oh...hey you two." he mumbled, offering a small wave.

Southside Freedom City, New Jersey Tuesday April 9, 2024. 4:30 PM Lexa Venn was busy in her new garage, located not far from Jordan International Airport in the southern part of Southside. The young woman had recently made the relocation back to Freedom City after some time in Bedlam in the mid-West. It had taken a bit of work, but she had been able to open the Chop Shop to start trying to provide souped up vehicles to the large number of superheroes active in the city. Of course, to help pay the bills until she could get that line of business established, she was also taking more typical mechanical work on sports cars and other non-stock vehicles. Lexa was just finishing up work on a Porche when she heard a voice call from the open door to the garage. "Pardon me, do you service electric vehicles?" It was a male voice, speaking with a distinct British accent. Turing around, Lexa saw a teenager, about sixteen, maybe seventeen, standing at the open bay door, he was just a bit under six feet tall, with short blond hair and bright blue eyes that seemed almost to burst with energy. Standing next to him was a teenage Asian girl about the same age, who was about Lexa’ s height with dark blue hair. It took Lexa a moment, but as the teenage boy smiled, she recognized him, although the last time she had seen him was when he had been ten years old. "It is good to see you again Rev. Been awhile." Lawrence Harrow said with a wide smile. ________________________ Lawrence had invited Mizuki to join him this afternoon after classes had finished to visit an old friend who had recently returned to Freedom City and opened a garage in Southside. On the drive over, he had explained that Rev had been one of the Claremont students that had been watching him when he was ten and the cosmic entity they had recently encountered had first tried to kidnap him, leading to them all ended up on CoVic Station 25,000 light years away.

GM 3:30 PM, Friday April 12th, 2024 City Center, Freedom City Powers Holdings Office Building It started innocently enough. Parker had been to a family dinner, his family had asked him about his friends and students, and he had mentioned a few of them. When he mentioned Iris and Daniel and their telepathic powers, Tracy, his older sister, had perked up and asked more about them, how powerful they were and so on. Apparently, one of the R&D teams under her is working on a device that should, hopefully, be able to expand the scope of telepathic powers, potentially allowing a telepath to aid rescue efforts in a much wider area in terms of catastrophes. So... Parker had asked Iris and Daniel to come with him, explaining things as well as he could, and when Michael had overheard, Parker invited him along as well. The weather is nice for mid-April, as the group exits the car that had been sent to get them once classes were over for the day, once it has stopped in front of the Powers Holdings office building in Midtown. The building doesn't particularly stand out. Sure, it is tall, but so are most of the buildings in midtown, and the area is dominated by Freedom Hall, City Hall and the DuTemps Building, so, it doesn't particularly stand out. Still, there is a big POWERS HOLDINGS INC. name plate over the revolving glass doors, and on the window next to them, the large P with an explosion inside the upper part of the letter that makes up the Powers Holdings logo, which makes it easy to identify the building, at least.

GM 1 PM, Saturday April 6th, 2024 West End, Freedom City Silberman's Books It is a lovely day. The sun is shining over Freedom City, the birds are flying about and singing. A nice Spring day, the kind of day where it seems like nothing can go wrong and everything will be fine. Silberman's Books is an institution by this point, slowly inching closer to having been part of the city for 80 years. The current owner is of course one Lynn Epstein, otherwise known as Grimalkin. Her relationship with Casper Church, the friendly neighborhood Ghost, has progressed quite a bit lately, and it is time for Lynn to meet Casper's daughter, Carrie. Everything will of course go perfectly well and there will be no issues or troubles ahead. Right?

April 2024, Freedom City University On a bright, sunny day in Freedom City, in the North End, three Claremont students were currently in the vicinity of FCU, or on the campus proper, on two distinct errands Bernadette O’Connell, alias Multi-Girl, aka the frontwoman for the band Multiplicity, was here to participate in an interview with FCU's school newspaper and morning show DJ. Thomas Windstrum worked in both groups and thus had brought Bernadette in to discuss her plans for Multiplicity, upcoming tour dates, and general other information; Thomas was a genuine fan of music and that included Multiplicity, so the interview was going to be a great spot to get traction amongst the college age students that Bernadette was only a little younger than, which meant they were perfect targets for her music. Meanwhile, Michael Adon had brought Ryan Jacobs to Liberty Park to meet someone who had a better job opportunity for Ryan; specifically, Michael's dad, Terrance Thomas Adon. Bernadette Bernadette was currently in the on campus radio station that bordered the quad at FCU. From the station she could look out onto a quad filled with trees and students milling about. Even the radio equipment at FCU for it's college station was state of the art and kept in outstanding repair. Thomas was a dusty haired college junior with a bit of a paunch and a classic Green Day T-shirt, but his passion for music was very clear from just a little bit of conversation with Bernadette. As the station returned from music, he activated their mics and began talking. "So again, this is Thomas, and I'm here with Bernadette O'Connell, front-woman of Multiplicity, who just had an electrifying set at Midnight Hour last month. She has a full set of performances coming up, but I want to talk history first; start at the beginning and all that. Bernadette, how'd you get into music in the first place?" he asked, grinning all the way. Michael and Ryan Meanwhile, Michael had lead Ryan to Liberty Park, close to FCU itself, but still in the park. Sitting at a bench that was close to the shadow of FCU's giant stadium, Terrance Thomas Adon was eating a hamburger and filling out payroll. He did look a lot like Michael, if Michael gave up his rigorous studies and exercises and went a bit soft; Terrance was fairly tall, his brown hair thinning at the top and salt and peppered. He was a bit slack around the waist, representing a physical worker who had moved into an office job, and dressed in a Decosta Construction button-up shirt. When Michael brought Ryan over, Ryan could see Michael's strong jaw and sharp eyes in Terrance's face, even if the rest of Michael's face wasn't much like his dad's. He spoke with a heavy Boston accent. He greeted his own son with a smile before turning his attention on Ryan. Now it was like there were two Michaels staring intently at Ryan at once. "Ah, your Ryan, eh? Mike said you're pretty strong and open to getting a new job?"

April, 2024 A.E.G.I.S. had sent out a request to the Atom Family about a situation involving a situation with an unknown origin point that was affecting the city of Woodbury; County seat of Gloucester County, New Jersey. Wanting to move fast, A.E.G.I.S. had sent out requests to two individuals on their rolladex; the mental manipulator Echohead, and the dimensional refugee with her own suit if powered armor, Predator. The Atom Family had, in turn, decided to send out Rewind. The three represented a vary broad set of powers and skills, which meant forging into an unknown area and an unknown situation would be less dangerous. The three were currently in a specialize train car of A.E.G.I.S.' design, traveling as incognito as possible when moving from Freedom City to the south of New Jersey. Their handler was an older black woman named August Shrine, standing in front of three white sheets, each on a table. "...I apologize that A.E.G.I.S. has pulled you out so suddenly, but we're having a significant issue in Woodbury of unknown origin." She explains. "24 hours ago, Dennis Deacon of Woodbury, New Jersey disappeared on a routine walk. He reappeared 8 hours ago, highly dehydrated and malnourished. He was transferred to a local hospital, where 4 hours ago, he passed away." she recounted. "...That is when the trouble began. Once Dennis died, anyone who touched Dennis' corpse became Dennis. They turned into Dennis, and then died within 4 hours. Anyone those people touch turn into Dennis, and so on. Each Dennis copy is highly aggressive to those who aren't Dennis, but primarily out of confusion and seeking help." she indicates to the tarps and pulled them off, revealing 3 corpses in full containers. Each contained the body of a late 30s man, with bright orange hair and green eyes. They were each exact, perfect copies. "This is Dennis Deacon...well, some of them. Don't ask how we got these, you don't want to know. These are being incinerated soon." Shrine said, calm, composed, and absolutely not going anywhere near the cases. "We need the three of you to enter the town, determine what is going on with Dennis- if he's a metahuman, or has some other situation occurring- and stop it. I would rather not have the entire county become consumed." She looked intensely, extremely serious about this.

GM 7:30 PM, Wednesday April 3rd, 2024 Kingston, Freedom City Near the Doomforge Years ago, the House of Usher had returned to Freedom City. Living in the shadow of the Kingston Doomforge, they had been gifted with strange and terrible powers, which they had used with their connections and wealth to become one of, if not the, major player in Freedom City's underworld. Drugs and power, it all ran through them. Anyone that opposed them wound up dead. They went unnoticed by the heroes of the city until the Raven learned about their presence and, together with his allies, he managed to chase them out of the city, and finally take them down after a lengthy international chase. Now, a major criminal enterprise suddenly disappearing is not without its issue. So far, the Usher's lieutenants and henchmen had played nice. Still getting paid and receiving orders, even if it was rarely, really helped there. But now? No money, no orders... well, someone has to try to step into that power vacuum. "C'mon, ya bum! Is that all ya got!?" Four men on motorcycles, the infamous Devil's Advocates, are fighting a young man and woman in the shadow of the Kingston Doomforge. Cueball, the first of the bikers is a large man with a classic German helmet and a large axe. He has a full beard and is only wearing an open denim vest on his upper body, torn jeans on his lower. He is the one that is yelling, as he swings around his axe. Another has a long face and semi long red hair, pulled back in a bandana. He is smiling widely, wearing the same type of vest as Cueball, but with much less impressive physique. He is known as the Born Loser. The third is deadly pale, with patches of black hair, wearing a red bandana and the same style of clothes as the other two. Buddy is missing several teeth and, going by looks alone, might already be dead. The fourth is their leader, Angel, dressed in black costume with bone prints and a skull mask, along with a brown leather vest with several chains wrapped around his upper body, leather boots and leather wraps around his wrists. He is wearing a leather hood pulled over his head. He is their leader They are fighting against Purple Haze and Scarlet Mist. A brother and sister combo that Paper and Nightscale has fought before. Scarlet Mist is wearing all red. Dark red body suit and long gloves, and a lighter red cloak with a hood. Even her hair is red, as she takes on a semi-gaseous form. Purple Haze is wearing dark brown jeans with metal knee guards and heavy combat boosts. Like the bikers, his chest is bare, while he is wearing a purple sleeveless coat. His messy long hair is brown, while rainbow colored smoke and mist flows from him into the surrounding area. "The Doomforge's ours, Angel! Beat it before we get pissed!" They are already causing property damage. The few people that were near the Doomforge are already caught in the fight.

Claremont Academy Freedom City, New Jersey Wednesday March 27, 2024. 7:08 AM The buzz about Bernadette O'Connell's band, Multiplicity, had been growing over the course of the school year at Claremont. Back in the Fall, it had mainly been students that had listened to her band’s recordings online, or rumors about the redheaded Senior going out at least one night a week to perform at various venues around the city. Then the band had performed at the Freedom League's holiday party, and things only increased from there when Bernadette's roommate, Neko, began helping the band with marketing and their internet presence. Almost two weeks ago the band had performed at Freedom City's underage night club, the Midnight Hour, which had allowed many Claremont students to attend (with Bernadette providing free tickets to those interested). But the big topic making its way through the school right now was how late last week and over the weekend, Bernadette and her band (along with Neko) had traveled to Tokyo to perform! It was little surprise that the attractive redhead was very rarely alone on campus, and with her busy schedule of school, practicing and performing with her band, and, according to another rumor, being involved in a supergroup with some recent Claremont graduates, it was even harder. But, one other fairly well-known thing about Bernadette, was that she was often up very early most mornings to go to either the gym or the athletic fields to workout/train, a habit from her time as a lacrosse player before her powers emerged and prevented her from taking part in competitive sports. While she was often joined by some of the school's other "jock" types, there were days where it would just be her (if one did not count her duplicates). Today was one such day. Bernadette and about half a dozen of her duplicates were up on the school’s athletic fields at the north end of campus, running around with lacrosse sticks, passing a ball and shooting on a goal set up in the center of the field. They were all dressed identically, black sweatpants and a light grey hoodie.

Spring, 1987 "Alright. We'll each go our separate ways until the heat goes off." Melter said, as the vault closed. Each member of the cadre of criminals put in one fifth of the code on the keypad. Then the door closed, and a hissing of steam locked the vault entirely. "When everything's cooled down, we'll get back together and split the profits." The team split, leaving the vault in the Arizona desert, hidden in the foothills of the Sierra Madre Mountains. Spring, 2024 It's been a quiet life ever since Supercrimes! ended. There's been a few magazine or talking head spots in various documentaries or special editions, but nothing permanent. Which isn't that bad of a thing, given that Richard and Paige are now approaching- or are in- their 60s. They're almost ready to take Social Security, even if they don't look quite as old. It was probably a nice life; if rather boring. That is, until one day. When Richard and Paige receive a phone call from Meadowbrook Nursing Home, located in Freedom City. "...Hello." The voice is old and worn by the years, but distinct. It conjures up memories from almost 40 years ago. Mark Mettle, alias The Melter; a Costumed Criminal from the 1980s. He had never been in Freedom City proper; he was a bit too out there for the Freedom City of the Moore Act, with his blow-torch like flamethrower gauntlets and propensity for bombastic speeches, but he'd had a brain on him. He'd been the one who put the plan together. "Fast Forward, Hologram. I need to see you. It's about the Sierra Madre job. Can you come by Meadowbrook? I'm here under my own name. I think we should talk about it in person."

Claremont Academy, Morning If you weren't paying attention it might seem that the two had arrived the normal way, rather than via teleporter, a guardian and their ward arriving on their first day at a new school. It looks familiar, but I don't remember anything about this place Daphne looked around with something approaching wide-eyed wonder Did I really go to school here? "You previously went to a place called Wells High School, though you did assist them when you were older. And remember to speak not use telepathy, humans are unnerved by such things!" Uncle Rick spoke with a deep melodic voice, that well-suited his current human identity "You are probably experiencing Jamais Vous, the experience of feeling you know a place without remembering anything about the location." the third voice came from a cube attached to Daphne's patch-festooned backpack, who (the cube, not the bag) was Mother Unit Daphne's carer for want of a better word. "Though it is probably best you keep quiet, humans are still nervous around Artificial General Intelligences." As they chatted away the group drew nearer to the building where some of its many students were already milling around for many and various reasons related to the still early day.

Spigori Unified Year 331,697 "Ratings are down again, huh?" Tun complained as she watched the dip- even her most annoying rival, Fex, was getting viewers again-. How were they getting bored again? She'd just brought Wrestling to the Spigori, and they were already bored of Wrestling! They really had some gall. The giant being of hard light turned her many eyes to the screens she kept locked on all earth signals she could obtain. A mind knowledgeable beyond compare and made purely for entertainment watched entertainment made for beings below her on the evolutionary totem pole; but even she had to admit that their entertainment far outstripped what the Spigori AIs could create. As her eyes flicked this way and that, she spied something interesting. "Cesar's...Sports Book?" she questioned. But then as she watched, her questioning thoughts turned to firing probes. She had an idea now! Earth Year CE 2024, March She appeared from a probe that seemed to pop into existence; they didn't appear like conquering invaders, but rather like paparazzi cameras. The projection was 8-10 feet tall depending on the space available. It presented a bright orange creature with blue highlights; blue gems, a blue neck, and bright blue lips. It had 4 eyes- three in a line and a larger one set in the forehead-, it was clearly female. It had 4 arms; each with 5 regular fingers and a thumb. And it had a giant, showman's smile. It was dressed in a toga with a gold laurel crown. It spoke to each person with a loud, excited voice. "Hello! I am Tun, the Mistress of Ceremonies for the Spigori Civilization, their premier entertainer of the entire race, Artificial Intelligence of Channel 1207; Sports Central 8, The Ocho. I am offering you a grand experience to come to my Game Station to participate in the grand opening of my new Battle Casino; Tun's Palace. You will be able to participate in the finest gambling activities that I can muster; those from Earth and beyond. If you win, you can take home any number of fabulous prizes!" she clapped all four of her hands repeatedly. "Yaaaay! Prizes!" The drone spat out some confetti. Then a contract appeared in one of Tun's hands, holding it out to each of the Heroes she'd picked. In another hand, she held an object of great desire to the hero in question, or at least a virtual representation of it. "Are you interested? Just sign here and you can make your dreams come true!" She had absolutely just appeared surprisingly; no matter what the heroes had been doing, Tun had appeared to interrupt it.

March 28th, 2024 The area around the Liberty Dome was packed with people for the first baseball game of the season. Especially when it's a grudge match. The block around the Liberty Dome was, in some ways, it's own minuscule city; high cost hotels, nice restaurants that weren't too expensive, and street entertainment; dancers, balloon artists, radio DJs, the like. People were cooking at tailgates, or buying food off street vendors. On main street, a massive stage had been erected for Comets Corona, the local affiliate's baseball stats team; a set of a man and two women who listed statistics and did between-inning commentary, along with pre and post game analysis. The actual announcer team- featuring former GM Russell Mills who now did color commentary, alongside 'The Voice of the Comets' Chuck Champ- would already be in their booths inside. There were carnival games and street dancers entertaining people, and the Comet's mascot had been seen a few times wandering the grounds with a video crew in tow, playing pranks. The Opening Day match for the Comets was a known grudge match; the former Freedom City Flags- now named the New Orleans Patriots- were coming for an away game, and setting that grudge match on opening day was a clear attempt to get ratings up for at least the opening of the season. It was almost impossible to get tickets, every seat in the stadium was going to be filled on opening day. And it just so happened that the first pitch was going to be thrown by The Patriot- Member of the Freedom League-, and she had gotten two additional passes for the upper deck behind home plate. Which she had given to Carmen, who had then given one to Michael. This was a fortuitous stroke of fortune for Michael, who had wanted to go to opening day but had been unable to obtain tickets, so he was even more high on Carmen than he usually was, even if it meant they needed to go as Golden Star and La Puma Negra instead of as Michael and Carmen. When he found out that it was The Patriot who had gotten the passes, he was likely going to be a little embarrassed. So Golden Star and La Puma Negra were taking in the sights and sounds in the block around the Liberty Dome in the crisp March air, and Michael had gotten them both hotdogs- if nothing else, he was going to be paying for all of Carmen's meals-, while they waited for the Patriot to come pick them up or for the game to begin, because they weren't sure exactly how busy or swamped she was going to be up until she threw the first pitch. He was being very careful not to spill mustard on his formal Super suit- because of course he had a formal Super suit-, while also making sure no one got too close to Carmen or made her uncomfortable. He wasn't the hovering type, but he also wasn't going to hang Carmen out to dry. He was also desperately keeping his mouth shut to not just spew baseball facts all over Carmen. "Do you want a jersey? They changed the material in them so they're not as good as they used to be, but still, having matching team jerseys could be fun..."

2024 March 15, 9:00am Halfway to Medford, New Jersey (about 20 miles NNW of Freedom City) ~60o, gentle breezes (~10 mph), cloudy Field trips! Hands-on learning, a vital part to any well-rounded education! And this was the most classic form of that time-honored tradition: a trip to a working farm! With beef and dairy cows, hogs and chickens, and numerous orchards covering its 250+ acres, Medford Farms had been serving the lower half of the state for over two centuries, and was always eager to welcome curious students. And these students were curious indeed, coming from a most curious school. As the Claremont Academy van pulled off Highway 40 and started down a side road, the four students within -- Owain "Copper Knight" Celliwig, Jonah "Jotunn" Janse, Ryan "Sever" Jacobs, and Michael "Golden Star" Adon -- were busy with their own thoughts.

GM Atomic Tower, Midtown, Freedom City Early April 2024 Atomic Tower has housed the Atom Academy for four years now. A lot has gone on during that time, experiments and discoveries, but they have mostly been focused on moving forward, on the future. Rex Atom wants to change that. There's a lot hiding in the world, discoveries from the past, strange things that should and shouldn't be, and, he thinks that the Atom Academy needs to be a bit more proactive, so he has set out a reminder to the members of the academy and any of their associates, asking for anyone that would like to join him on his proposed journeys into the unknown. Everyone interested has been asked to meet in laboratory 55. It is a large open room, with a holographic projector, often used to model molecules or the like. Rex Atom himself seems to be running late, while everyone else are beginning to arrive in the room. So, the question is... who is everyone? Why are they here? What are their relation to the Atom Academy, if any? Why do they want to join the journeys into the mystery?

March 13th, 2024 Claremont Academy, students residence Golden Star had booted up his Nintendo 64. It was supposedly cursed. But Blackstaff had sorted that out. Probably. And probably was surely good enough. The psychic twins Cerebral and Cerebrum had stuck their head in through the door to see what was going on. The Nintendo fizzed when plugged in, and flickered half the lights of the students residence. Booting up? What was booting up? It was taking its damn time that was for sure. As it loaded (at a relatively glacial pace), the machine displayed pixellated art: Of machine guns, of evil villains in evil costumes, of lightning bolts, of dark towers with screaming damsels in distress at the top, of a city ruined by warfare, awash with tanks and mines. It all looked very archiac, and very violent. In a quaint way. The images had a certain... hypnotic... quality to them. It was hard to drag your eyes away from the screen, despite (or maybe because) of the antique pixel graphics...

Bombay Beach, California March 19, 2024 CW: Self-Harm, Torture, Imprisonment, Suicide This was a place of decay. And Eric LaCroix both loved and hated it for that reason. Both of those were strong terms, of course. Especially "hated." In the years since he'd really started to make use of his photography education, Eric had been jetting across the country, catching the spirit of crossroads, ghost towns, and graveyards. Often for photo shoots and Instagram feeds, but maybe working towards a coffee table book. Some of his photos were now hanging at the Black Petal Cafe where he had served as eternal barista. Of course, the spirit of places was more than metaphorical for Eric. Which is why the Salton Sea was screwing with him royally. A shoot at Slab City - "The Last Free Place," haven of snowbirds, outsider artists, and RV off-grid life - had spun out into a tour of the cities surrounding one of Southern California's greatest marvels gone to rot. A simple diversion of the Colorado River had led to the refilling of a long dried-out lake bed, creating a large saltwater body deep inland. For a few decades, it was a resort paradise, all the fun of the coast in the middle of dry land. Until the saline levels kept rising, and the agriculture run off kept flooding in. It was not a great place, especially for someone attuned to the flow of death. The shores were littered with the bones of luckless fish, and the sky itself reeked of salt and waste. The cities around the sea, life clinging on in the face of devastation, had elevated rates of asthma, lung cancer, and heart disease. The main wildlife willing to make it a native habitat, the pelicans, were riddled with botulism. Even the sea itself was dying, as California had enacted policies to let it evaporate in the hope of restoring wildlife on the exposed playa. And yet. Life persisted. The people here lived, likely because there was nowhere else to go or because they were stubborn enough to make homes. The cities were even drawing in its share of artist communities - though Eric knew which way that would go, and he bet it would be a while before this became the next Joshua Tree. But if life could persist him, if people could make it a home, he could at least put up with the fact that his death sense left him with the constant sense that he was hearing radio static from another room. Until the signal cut through loud and clear. And he knew that it was much more than dead fish. It was time for his night work. A quick jaunt through Osiris's back closet, and he was at the house. At least California Winter made his leather jacket tolerable, as Spring slowly approached. The house itself was nice, by Bombay Beach standards - a little bit of rime and dust to the walls, but a simple, one-story abode. Red and blue lights filled the driveway, and the two beat cops on duty did a double take as he walked up. "Get lost on your way to some metal concert?" The older one asked. "Nah, Joe. I know this one. Seen him on Instagram. Cemetery, right?" "Cimitiere, but I'm not a stickler." He was a long way from Freedom, but thank God social media had enough of a reach to make sure authorities wouldn't just mistake him for a Ghost fan with delusions of grandeur. "What's the situation?" "Two dead. Marie and Daniel Johnson, 25, 26. Both locals; I... knew 'em from church." The younger one looked down, trying to hold something in. "Wounds seem self-inflicted, but... there's reason to suspect... well, occult shit." Nick let them walk him in. He was too used to small town cops believing that "occult shit" meant they had a Ouija board or a copy of The Kybalion. The bodies were a quick scan on the way through the center of activity. Marie was slumped before the sink, her wrists cut open. Daniel was sitting at the kitchen table, his throat open, a steak knife fallen at his limp hand. It was a terrible tableau, and he knew he'd need to look at it in detail. But they weren't here, which was either good for them or very bad for them. Because the writing on the table, done in Daniel's bloody finger, said everything Nick needed to know. HOME DAGON HOME HOME YHANTHLEI SEA TO THE SEA "You were right. I think I may need to call in some consultants for this one..."

Monday March 5th In the worst slums of Freedom City Night time, decorated by a sprinkling of atmospheric rain. A fuzzy moon shone in the night sky. Here and there, betwixt the cloud cover, stars twinkled. It was a cold night, but the air was still. The drizzling rain fell down straight, rather than driving into your face. Still, one would have to wrap up warm or seek cover to see the morning. Even the homeless of Freedom of City knew that. The newest version of the Archer had got wind of a new drug that was been tested on the vagrants of Freedom City. Something that burned you up - sometimes literally. Increased strength and raised body temperature. Might keep you warm on dark nights, they said. And free. If you came to the right places, like here. A gaggle of homeless had gathered around a drum-fire and were asking a heavy set thug in a leather jacket about the drug. The thug was pointing at his companion, a tall, spindly woman, bald headed, bad skin, who was looking very much like she was on some kind of horse tranquiliser - barely standing up.

Kingston Freedom City, New Jersey Wednesday, February 14, 2024, 5:25 PM After the decision had been made to move to the ruins of Kingston to await the arrival of the Boran Dovox, also known as Sovereign, the heroes that had delt with the minor rampage of Explodo the Great moved to a location not far from the Doomforge. Paradigm and Star Khan flew to the new location, to ensure that Dovox's assault transport would detect them and not start searching for the Star Khan. Fleur provided transportation for the other heroes. Paradigm and Star Khan stood out in a ruined parking lot, a few burned out husks of cars scattered about and half destroyed buildings nearby. Neither seemed particularly nervous as Paradigm was scanning the sky. "I see the transport." She stated after a few moments. "It appears to be headed directly for us." Star Khan had been alternating between scanning the sky as well and looking over at Paradigm. When she indicated she had spotted the transport, he looked back to the sky before looking about the barren landscape around them for a moment. It was not long after that the transport came roaring into view, flying down low towards the ruins of Kingston. As it approached the area where Star Khan stood beside Paradigm, it veered to the right and started to circle the area. As it passed to the right, a large, circular object dropped out, rockets slowing its descent as it landed a short distance away. A large, nearly eight foot tall mech dropped down next to the circular object, which opened up to reveal dozens of armed aliens in armor that began to move out away from the drop pod. With them were three large reptilian aliens with red scales and tusks, and two normal sized aliens dressed in black body suits. The transport continued to circle around, another drop pod dropping down to the left of where Star Khan and Paradigm were standing, along with another mech. A group of similar forces deployed from the second pod as well. The transport then flew over to the area out in front of Paradigm and Star Khan, almost landing as five figures jumped out of the back and the transport lifted back up into the sky. Leading the group was another of the red skinned reptilian aliens, standing well over seven feet tall. He was dressed in ornate armor and held a large, glaive like weapon in one hand. Walking just behind him, on either side were two tall figures dressed in black, teal and white armor, which had a small white eight pointed starburst in the center of the chest plate. The armor had a black and teal hood, and a full armored face mask with black visor. Each carried a long pike, the tip of which crackled with energy. Fleur recognized the armor from Freedom League briefs about Khanate Justicars. Just behind them were two more of the large tusked aliens, each carrying large swords. Star Khan looked from side to side a moment before looking back at the group approaching from the front. "Hunters, hounds and traitors." He stated simply as he looked at the two armored figures. "Justicar Wryy, Justicar Har’al, you would do well to set down your weapons and surrender, I may be willing to forgive you." "Kinarr Khan! I am Prince Dovox, the Sovereign!" The large tusked alien in the front of the group called out loudly as he came to halt. "You are not worthy to lead the Stellar Khanate, so I am here to take your head, and your throne!" He added, pointing his glaive at the young Star Khan. He then turned to look at Paradigm. "Praetorian, you have no business here, step aside." He snarled. "Neither do the Terrans." He added, glancing about at the others. "That is where you are wrong Dovox." Paradigm stated simply. "The new Star Khan has extended an offer of peace to the Republic and Coalition, so his safety is of great concern to the Praetorians." "But additionally, I have a personal interest here. Kinarr also made a proposal of marriage to me in the council chambers. So, until such time as I either accept or decline, he is my prospective intended." Dovox simply snarled as he gripped his glaive with both hands. "Then you can die together, makes no difference to me."

Monday 5th March, 2024 Freedom City Inside the Laboratory of Predator It was a day of no particular character. Temperature average, sunlight average, normal mix of mediocre impact news. The sun had risen, the clocks were ticking. It was mid morning. But Predators day was about to get real interesting. A knock on the door. the Camera's swivelled to scan the knocker. A man in his fifties, thick glasses, thick brown moustache, sweating (despite a tepid heat to the day), nervous, jittery. Wearing a courdrouy jacket and green turtleneck. Not colour coordinated, at all. But Predator reconised him. Dr Norris North! The head of WEST, the world exotic science taskforce, set up after various global calamaties to investigate and if necessary contain any science that might get out of hand. Dimensional, spatial, temporal distortions. Strange energies. Mutated viruses. They functioned under the auspices of the united nations, somewhat like the world health organisation, except with less funding. "Please! Let me in!" mumbled Doctor North into the speaker.

Spring 2024 Freedom City teenagers in 2024 had been small children when the Deep One invasion of 2011 had happened. Some of them had seen Deep Ones themselves, or heard stories of the terrible consequences of their invasion in the years growing up. Mindless cannibals, demented fanatics, terrible fiends - and certainly their lessons at Claremont about the poorly understood race of psychopathic cannibal abominations that shared the ocean with Atlanteans and who sought the doom of all Surface-Men had been little reassuring on the subject. This made it all the more exciting, then, that they'd been offered a chance to meet Sea Devil, widely known in the hero community as the only good Deep One. Here they were in the back of a school van being driven out to the Waterfront by Mrs. Harcourt, a veteran classroom teacher who generally brooked no nonsense but had a reputation for fairness. "Remember," she was saying, "Ms. Innsmouth has been living away from her people for many years, but this may be a shocking experience for some of you. I'm counting on all of you to show her the best traditions of our school and the spirit of our students." Aquaria had come to campus a few years ago and there'd been something of an - altercation, the students had all heard - so now seeing the Deep One was strictly voluntary. They'd had to get their parents and guardians to sign off on it, even.

GM Evening, March 22nd, 2024 A local, somewhat small, but still with plenty of room, show stage Tokyo The music is loud, and so are the fans, as Multiplicity has taken the stage. Normally, they would be playing back home in Freedom City, but ever since Neko had started helping build their social media presence, the band had started to gain a massive following in Japan. More than enough to get an invitation to go there to play, taking the stage together with Neko. Both Neko and Bernadette and Neko has both brought their boyfriends along, and despite their somewhat strained relationship, both Charlie and Leon had come along. Despite Charlie's offer of taking the Young Guardians' jet, they had traveled commercial, which had been quite an experience, but now they were here. The lightshow that illuminated the hall turns off, and the crowd goes quiet, waiting for Multiplicity and Neko to start the show.

Riverside Freedom City, New Jersey Friday March 15, 2024. 9:20 PM Located in Riverside, Midnight Hour was Freedom City's only underage nightclub. As such, it was often a popular spot for high school students and younger college students unable to get into twenty-one and over establishments. Tonight, the club was particularly crowded for the live performance of the band Multiplicity, which had an ever growing social media presence in the last two months. Tickets for the venue had been sold out for weeks, and the club was packed to capacity with people. In the crowd were several students from Claremont Academy, as the lead singer, Bernadette O'Connell, was a senior at the school (and the other members of the band were alumni of the school as well). The Irish teen had provided free tickets for any of her fellow students that had wanted to attend. Backstage, Bernadette was waiting with the other members of her band for the start of their set. The Irish teen was wearing a red and black plaid skirt, a white dress shirt with a red tie, over which she wore a black leather jacket. Two of the redhead’s duplicates stood a short distance away, both wearing jeans and long sleeve T-shirts, one had on a brunette wig, the other a blonde wig, which, together with the shadows toward the back of the stage would help conceal that the backup singers looked very similar to the lead singer. Standing nearby was the lead guitarist, Summer Sands, who was dressed in black jeans and long sleeve T-shirt. As was often the case, Summer was focused on last minute adjustments to her guitar and was blocking out most everything else in preparation for the show. The other two members of the band, Mark (the drummer) and John (the base player), were standing where they had a partial view of the stage and the some of the crowd gathered in the club. "Wow, looks like a full house." Mark commented. Bernadette walked over and glanced out a grin coming to her face. "I told ya that Neko could help increase boost engagement an' get us noticed." She glanced over at the clock on the wall. "Almost time fer us ta get out there."

Bayview Freedom City, New Jersey Sunday February 18, 2024, 10:28 PM Bernadette was riding in the back of an Uber as it passed through one of the nicer neighborhoods of Bayview, with large, old houses that were separated from each other by large lots that afford considerable privacy. The redheaded teen was hardly paying attention as she looked out the window. Now that she was alone in the shadows of the Tesla Model 3, tears were running down her cheeks, as she finally began to allow herself to feel the pain she had not that long ago experienced in the timeline she and several other Claremont students had found themselves trapped in during the 1993 Terminus Invasion. She had spent much of the past hour providing an account of what had occurred in that timeline to a member of the Freedom League, and then some time with a Claremont counselor. The Irish teen had been able to keep herself collected and the emotions in check. She did not want to talk with the counselor about them, at least not yet. She was almost too where she hoped to find the person she really wanted to talk to right now, assuming he had not gone out on patrol. The Tesla pulled up in front of the mansion that served as the headquarters for the Young Guardians and the redhead quickly climbed out of the back, completing the transaction on her phone she made her way to the front door. The teen was still dressed in the clothes she had been wearing on the return trip from Fiji, save for the grey hoodie, black jeans and a black tank top. Her already torn black jeans had more tears, and there were a few cuts and bruises on her bare arms, and both her arms and her clothes were covered in soot and dust, in addition to several patches of dried blood on her clothes, though not all of it was her own. Bernadette was already through the front door when the Uber pulled away, making her way through the main entrance, she headed towards the concealed door that would lead her down the secret portions of the mansion. At this time of night, if Charlie was not out patrolling, there was a good chance he would be down at the supercomputer, engaged in some research or another for things he was looking into for the team to possibly get involved in. Soon the redhead had reached the room, the door sliding open to reveal the wall of monitors that filled the otherwise dim room with a bright glow. Sure enough, Charlie was seated in front of them, his back to the door. "Charlie." Bernadette said, her voice lacked its normal cheerful tone (or even a more seductive one she might use in private), instead, it was laced with emotional pain, as fresh tears started running down her face….

GM Hong Kong, Night time The moon was on form, tonight, shining over a cloudless city, surrounded by twinkling stars. It was a beautiful city. Madame Raven knew that on the ground, ugliness was afoot. A trial of gossip and rumour had pointed the way, and her spirit of adventure had driven her. Here, at Superior Silk Industries. At first glance, it looked ramshakle, a production factory for textiles, a rather high end product. Then why did it look so broken? Because it was not. This was a facade. Well hidden camera's, superior locks, and subtle reinforcements all made this more of a fortress than a factory. And the remarkable Raven could see it all. Something bad was happening at Superior Silk Industries, something tonight. the company had a crooked reputation (although it did produce fine garments). Criminal activity under the disguise of legitimate (even successful) business. Exports to Europe, America. Conflict with Dr Sin and his leutinenats. Bribery and corruption with the Chinese goverment. And a deeper layer of rumour - hard to believe. Sorcery, Kung Fu, Masters of Ki, Ninja's. The usual hotch potch of Martial Art baloney, for sure, and yet the Raven detected some grain of truth within the soup of gossip.

GM It was raining. A warm rain that muted the sun and carpeted the dry island. A healthy rain, one might say, one that promised green amid the desert. A beautiful rain, that splintered the horizon into a double rainbow. An uncommon rain, for these time of the year in Socotra. A rain that smelt of a storm to come. Through the rain, flew an old aircraft. World War 2, by the look of it. It sailed through the air unpetrubed by cloud or rain, looping into a curve and descending gracefully. Finally, it reached a dirt track and landed, flawlessly. The precision was remarkable, for it was only a couple of dozen of yards of taxiing until it reached right by the feet of Giang Trang, aka Xian Lou Khan, aka Tsunami. The hood of the plane opened up, and a man stood up. He was dressed in antique fighter pilot wear, complete with jacket and goggles. Sunburnt, one might say, or sunweathered, with bleached blond hair, stubble, and a handsome (if worn) face. Bizzarely, he was holding a wooden cane, one you might see an elderly gentleman (or gentlewoman) use to walk. In his other hand, a silver compass. He consulted it for a moment, and, ensuring that the needle had stopped right at Giang, introduced himself wih a short bow. "Giang Trang I presume? I am Harry Cane. Mr Murk sent me."