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Monday April 25 Trinity Hospital After the events in Ocean Heights, Rhode Island, and Mexico, the heroes of Freedom City (and indeed the world) are aware of the global threat of the Makot Mitzrayim - the Plagues of Egypt. The threat isn't just the Plagues, of course, but the people driven to hysteria (one way or another) by an apocalypse that seems ("but only seems" Seven stressed in her briefing sent to the major superteams) to correspond to that of the three largest religions on Earth. The Interceptors in particular, thanks to Harrier and Echo's report from down in Mexico, have gotten a strong picture of what's going on. But with only one attack in Freedom City proper, it's easy for most people to let life go on. In the West End in the last few days there's been a freakishly rare flu epidemic, one of those bizarre moments that can happen in a city full of people and exposed to all sorts of exotic chemicals, viruses, and other ailments over the years. Things are bad enough that the hospital is nearly full, getting them to send non-emergency cases home, and they've called out volunteer doctors from other hospitals to help deal with the crisis. The flu can be a scary disease for parents, the elderly, the unlucky - especially when it turns to pneumonia. So if the hospital chapel is particularly packed with people praying for their families and themselves, well, maybe it has nothing to do with the Plagues of Egypt. At least until you turn on the news - and catch the continued cleanup elsewhere in the city, the nation, the world. But the heroes of Freedom have dealt with worse than this...right?

"Is there room for one more in that box?" Gina Espadas asked, wheeling herself backward in a tight arc with one hand and holding up a framed photo with the other. "It's one of the bigger ones." The retired police officer and single mother of two was in fully serious organizational mode partly in deference to the task at hand and partly to sidestep some of the lingering awkwardness that resulted from being left alone with the other woman in the room. Talya Browning - Gina had enough aliases to keep straight these days without worrying about whether that was the correct civilian identity for this apartment or safe house or what have you - was on the nearby couch with the last new open cardboard boxes, rearranging pictures to pack them as efficiently as possible. The renovations of the apartment Talya shared with Gina's son and daughter-in-law were close enough to completion to move most of her personal effects over but unsurprisingly there was some last minute packing left to do while Erik retrieved the borrowed truck. That left the two of them to sort things out between them in more than one sense.

McDuffie Community Center, Lincoln Friday, 27th May 2016, 10 am The area around the edge of Lincoln like most of the area had not seen much attention from the city, plagued as it was by drugs and gang violence. So it was rare that something good came to an area like this, and when it did it was something that should be celebrated. A local business woman made good, one Velvet Chiara, had decided to give back to the community by building this new center. To raise always needed fund as well as help promote this new building she was throwing a party that had attracted local campaigners and the braver politicians, who were as usual followed by a few stalwart reporters. Whilst everyone was in good spirits there was a note of caution all around, it was unlikely an event like this would go down without any trouble. Luckily there were people on hand who had experience of such things...

Outside the Main School Building, Claremont Academy Morning, 5th March 2016 In the cold overcast light of another day a little group of students reluctantly gathered outside the building waiting for a teacher to arrive to deliver there punishment for the morning. For these were students who it was thought a simple detention wasn’t enough, they needed to learn to get on with each other. Each group would get a little patch of ground to clear of trash and hopefully learn to work together. The teacher for the day was a relatively new who whenever seen was always impeccably dressed in a suit her hair tied up into a bun, rumors swirled if she was a super or now as she hadn’t displayed any hint of obviously powers. One by one she assigned each couple their assignment, in her soft local accent, and handed out the equipment to gather the few trash. “And finally we have Ms Morningstar and Ms Clouston.”

A dark and abandoned street, West End The Witching hour, 31st May 2016 It was a scene that must have played out a thousand time before, and would play out a thousand times again. Down the street walked a lone figure tiny and vulnerable in the night, but she was not alone and definitely not safe. Soon she was joined by two figures who followed a distance behind, pale pale skin that made them appear to float in the darkness. They were predators out to apparently hunt and this woman had there interest. Soon two more joined the fray either side of the woman, then two more in front. Surrounded by these pale figures it seemed that the woman would soon become prey to these pale humans. But this was Freedom City and things were never quite as clear cut as they may seem.

London, England Thursday April 28, 2016 1:42 PM local time The Ministry of Powers Foreshadow and Ms. Britannia sat in the conference room with Dame Pennington, the current head of the Ministry and one of her analysts. A hologram of Synapse filled one of the conference room chairs, as Synapse was teleconferencing in from the Haven, where she had been in the middle of some projects with VERA. A large screen on one wall of the conference room showed video images from six different incidents over the previous six days, mostly from different parts of the world. "As you can see, there have been multiple incidents in the past six days, all related to the biblical plagues that God is supposed to have visited on Egypt when Moses was freeing the Israelites. Twice in Freedom City, one in Rhodes Island, Washington DC, northern Mexico, and Palermo, Sicily." Dame Pennington stated as the security camera or news footage showed the scenes of the various plagues and the assorted superheroes that appeared to deal with them. "While each of the attacks are clearly connected given their themes, no one has yet been able to determine how the particular locations were chosen as targets. If whomever is behind this continues to follow the theme set out in Exodus, then there could be four more plagues to come. The only question is where they will strike." Department for International Development, 22 Whitehall London Prince Tau Abioye-Imari made his way out of one of the large conferences rooms in the Department for International Development in downtown London, chatting with ministers from Kenya and Tanzania. The meeting had been to discuss some of the DfiD's current projects in some of the poorer countries along the African Horn, projects that involved support by several of the more stable nations in the region. "Will you be returning home to Bangallan soon Prince Tau?" Asked the Kenyan minister as the three made their way down the hallway toward the elevators. Taj 51 Buckingham Gate Hotel, Westminster A butler led Mark Lucas through the lavish entryway of the Cinema Suite of the expensive London hotel. Inspired by the era of the 40's and 50's, the suite was a blend of elements inspired by both Hollywood and Indian cinema. Just off the entry was a large study, filled with priceless antique furniture and other collectibles. Seated on one of the sofas, was Thane al-Darsah, one of Nina's exiled older brothers. Trafalgar Square Jennifer Owens emerged from the Charing Cross Underground Station right to the edge of Trafalgar Square. The young woman had spent the morning at a business meeting at 30 St. Mary Axe or the Gherkin, in the City of London. With that done, she had the afternoon to spend some time taking in some of the city's many sights.

It was more Leilani's concern than any of her mentors that had her hiding in the building where any accident would be kept to a minimum but eventually 'stir-crazy' won out over 'paranoid that she might set all the things on fire' as far as emotional motivation. She'd never been one to lounge about indoors when the ocean beckoned and at least surrounded by water, any agitation would probably only flash fry a few fish. At least, that was the hope that had her setting out for the water's edge. Leilani didn't think that surfing through the sky would ever get old but it wasn't the same as the ocean. She was more than a little noticeable riding the flames that she generated towards the waterfront. Landing was still just a little dicy so she over shot the piers deliberately for the deeper waters where she'd hopefully not cannonball into any errant swimmers. It seemed unlikely. Even during the summer, the Atlantic was a much less friendly creature than her beloved bay. Spitting out sea water, she came up laughing as the water dissipated the residual heat quickly. Eventually she was really going to have to learn how to land.

March 1st, 2016, 2.03 AM (AST) The Warrens, West wall of Farside Crater, the dark side of the Moon, Sol System At all times the caves felt empty. The walls were covered in ornate and sophisticated technology, the floors often interrupted by sweeping, elegant examples of Farsider engineering, normally the squared tunnels blazed with light, but the silence of the vacuum and the blackness of deactivation made it all feel like a very elaborate stage, not a place that anyone could live in. As she materialized on the teleportation dais, clutching her precious cargo, Atraxia looked at the motionless, austere world around her with a swell of pride. As the last of the blue-gold shimmers of recoherence faded, the dead Farsider straightened up, free of the oppressive grip of Olderth gravity, and flew, pausing only briefly to verify her identity to the monitoring system. At once, the rest of the power cells kicked in, and the world changed. As Atraxia sped like a dark arrow through the now brilliantly-lit tunnels, she relaxed at last, grip loosening on the container still closely held against her black and red terrasuit. Inside, something pale writhed against magno-gravitic bonds, something which could make a corpse's eyes glitter with curiosity and delight. It had been years since it had fallen to Olderth's surface and somehow, despite all odds and the high price the governments of the planet would place on it, she was the first to recover it. One piece, all hers. Coming at last to the doors of her laboratory, the Farsider reached out a spindly arm, sinking it into an adjacent aperture. She felt mechanisms inside remove the sleeve of her 'suit, and then nothing. With a tone that she had spent days perfecting, wasted on the acrid void, the door spiraled open, revealing a dizzying wonderland of intricate tools, specimens in myriad rainbows of solutions and nutrient baths, plodding simulations, readouts describing in exhaustive detail every action of every molecule of their given subject. It was a pleasure to step inside, to let the door cycle shut, blocking out the messy world and step into one of harmony and direction. Taking the cylinder of silver gold to a spare section of her exotic containment module, Atraxia slid the thing into place, tested the field inside with a flick of her dead wrist and a flicker of her blank blue eyes to a crystalline guage, and taking a breath of useless air injected the Gorgon shard into its new home. At once the inchoate mass of consuming, imprisoning nanites tried to break free, twisting and distorting as it tried to get a grip on something solid enough to entomb and ossify, but repulsed by a shifting stream of energy waves it could do little but fall into a pattern of outgrowth, collapse and regrowth. Staring in a moment's gleeful awe at the mass of miniscule robots that would have rapidly reduced her and her home to a petrified state, the vampire quickly recovered herself and settled in to examine her find. Hunching over a translucent display, she absently thumbed a button that unfolded a nearby section of wall, offering a fresh canister of cloned blood. Swapping it with the empty one in her 'suit, the vampire felt her cares and stress wash away under the soothing quasi-sensation of revitalization, the new blood spreading through her withered veins and pumping into her wrinkled skull. For all that, she was as motionless as a statue, as a part of the high-tech furniture, as the silent walls and tunnels of the deathly-still Warrens. In moments, it was just her and the data, the rest of the universe and its inhabitants a distant fifth concern. As were the facts that matter-transit signals could be tracked, and that maybe, just maybe, somebody else might want what she'd found.

GM Rabat, MorrocoMonday, June 20th, 2016 11:20 PM As part of a variety of social and political reforms under the current ruler, King Mohammed VI, Morocco offers a “conditional neutrality” to various superhumans seeking temporary asylum. Under this agreement, superhuman possessing a special visa issued by Morocco can operate within the borders of the nation sans government interference, even if they are wanted by the authorities of other nations with which Morocco usually has extradition treaties. These visas are of a very limited length and can be withdrawn at the discretion of the crown. For the most part the idea of a superhuman safe haven has a broad range of appeal to the public, but foreign leaders have begun to speculate as to whether Morroco was using the opportunity for a superhuman arms race. Gathering power as it were. It was this level of speculation that brought Dancia Devons to Morocco to pursue an interview and possibly a story worth printing for the Freedom Ledger. Yves Zermeño was in Morroco on a pursuit of her own AEGIS had been tracking OVERTHROW activity to Morroco and in a cooperative effort with UNISON the freed drone found herself in the heart of the capital staking out a garment factory. Planet Inspector Dol-Druth had his own reasons for being in the city. The Lor sent word through the Freedom League of a crashed ship in the area. But, with not so much as a news story to go on, the Lor Mentat had nothing to go on if this ship ever passed through the area to begin with. As sensitive as the matter was the Freedom League reached out to Cobalt Templar to keep an eyes on Dol-Truth, lest an international incident occur due to his search for a craft that may never have been there to begin with.

Tögöl aj Akhui, Mongolia, Edge of the Gobi Desert The town was a small place one where people would normally just travel through on the way to somewhere else, but today the town was home to a variable army of trucks. Not by choice though the various convoys should be well on there way to one of the larger cities of Mongolia or even China, but the spooked drivers refused to travel any further, even for the silly money the Westerners were offering. The day had started well until the region they’d travelled into was hit by a number of small, but disturbing, number of earthquakes. A rumble went through the various local drivers and hand that the Olgoi-khorkhoi were angry for some transgression, the famed Death Worms. This was really quite good for the SuperCrime! crowd who had been trying to track down the elusive creature, and the apparently always frazzled producer was trying to get more information from a rather Grizzled Mongolian who seemed to know more about the creature. Wayward’s crew however were talking about the possibility of hiring an helicopter to get to the next scheduled concert.

Riverside District, Pier 4, US Navy Warehouse September 14, 2015, 0720 HRS, Eastern Daylight Time A mix of FCPD, US Navy NCIS, and Coast Guard officers were milling about, some looking dumbfounded and others tripping over jurisdictions. An area of Pier 4's floor was cordoned off by security tape, but a combination of the MPs trampling over the scene, The FCPD's being shuffled about by the nose, and the fact that whatever happened happened well before the crack of dawn had caused the scene start to go cold. The back of the pier warehouse was open, enough to accommodate a small ship used for moving cargo around that the Navy used. As well as there was already several crates stacked, and seemingly untouched. "So, when is the cape arriving? Not that we haven't gone over this area with a fine-toothed comb." One of the NCIS investigators said, his arms crossed. "We're hearing there's two inbound, one the Navy asked for specifically, and someone that is being called in. Not sure which is comin' first." One of the MPs mentioned, before telling a FCPD officer to keep back from the cordon. There was a couple of FCPD detectives talking to some of the NCIS investigators, going over their notes, and actually showing some coordination. Something was knitting together. What was noticeable is within the milling group of investigators, was an Admiral... one in charge of the fleet in this part of the Atlantic... and he didn't look happy.

Equivalent to October, 2015, in Terran cycles. Outpost P-32, Ledas System, on Ledas 4. This place was a frigid waste. Not that they would go out among the ammonia shoals among the dark skies, and ever present snows. It was toxic to most, and even if it wasn't it was way, way too cold to be there. Still this place had minerals that were useful, and it was a good place to hole up a research station. The outpost was nice, or nicer than the places they frequented, and there was enough facilities for them to take care of things, little repairs and such that built up. Plus a couple nice watering holes, including some places that Roulette could duck off to, to place some games, and swindle some people. Bliss hated the cold. Her homeworld was far more warm, though while she wasn't mammalian, she was assuredly endothermic. So that accounted for something. Still, she was the strongest of the Runners, and so she relented to leaving her room and helping Ruby get supplies. Plus, sometimes they got discounts if she was glaring. When in her enviro suit she looked a bit more intimidating. Which they were benefiting from, with the Xuli'pan was off to the side, waiting while Ruby did... something... She didn't know. They were in one of the trader stations here in the outpost. With their crates of the supplies that would be here, the rest would be delivered after they got back to the station. Bliss was propped against the wall, staring through one of the porthole style windows that aimed towards the main concourse of the outpost.

GM Post Great Bay, Riverrock Island, Thursday, March 25th 2013, Superheroine Pitch - real name rock journalist Carmen Cantos - allong with the Captain of the S.S.Gadelica ship - the ship that had ferried Carmen to Riverrock island, which had been marooned on the Island the night the demons were unleashed and murdered rockstar Acheron - S.S.Gadelica crewmember William Smithson, and island residents Dennis and Pedro - both servants of the now late Acheron, real name George-Louis Phlegethon - made their way to Phlegethon's Villa, situated in the center of the island. Their journey to St.Blaise's village, in order to find clues to the appearance of the demons on the island, was met with minimum success, yielding precious few information about the history of the island, before being met with a horde of demons, summoned by a mystically imbued and highly cryptic golem, the Magician. Carmen defeated the Magician, aqcuiring the stone tablet that was used as a medium to materialize and anchor the Magician in the process, but during the battle, Dennis and Pedro were severely wounded. Dennis managed to recover, with some minimal rest, but Pedro's life, while outside of immediate threat, is still hanging in the balance. Deciding to postpone further searching for clues, and prioritizing the safety of the civilians under her care, Carmen decided to escort the wounded to the back to Phlegethon's Villa, in which the servants and the rest of the crew of the S.S.Gadelica had hidden, having fortified places of it in order to stave off the demons. It had been a long, busy, and eventful day since Pitch's arrival on the island. What had started as a prospective interview with a famous rockstar in an exotic scenery, had quickly turned into a living nightmare. A nightmare that was still going... Phlegethon's Villa 15:32 The journey through the hailstorm had been a tiresome affair, not only for Pitch, but for the humans as well. Smithson, in particular, had to bear the brunt of it, what with carrying Pedro on a stretcher all by himself. Every so often, the group had to find a defensible, fortified spot, so that they could rest and catch their breaths. This meant that the journey back to the villa took almost twice as much as it had taken them to arrive to the village. Nevertheless, conservation of strength was of a high priority to the group, and while thankful that they'd finally arrived at the manor, they were largely no worse for the wear than they had been two hours ago. The humans inside the manor welcomed the lot, providing them with water and warm blankets to stave off the cold. Alex Movida, Phlegethon's personal valet and closest confidant, rushed to the help of the wounded servants. "Oh, heavens, are you alright?" he asked, worry written clearly on his face. "Quick, get Doctor Homelock here!" he shouted, and at once a servant went to usher the resident pathologist. Billy Blooms, photographer from Rock Report who had been assigned to help Carmen, ran concernedly towards Pitch. "Boss? What happened? You all look like you've been through hell!" he asked the superheroine, aghast at their disheveled, sweaty, and dirty looks. "More run-ins with the demons?"

GM Post Tuesday April 26, 2016 Wading Way, Freedom City Being a bank is always a hazardous proposition, even under the best of circumstances. Having millions of dollars all kept in a single location can make a tempting target for any so-inclined lowlifes in the area, no matter how well-guarded said millions of dollars may be. In Freedom City, this goes double. Some would think that being located in the superhero center of the world would make the banks a less tempting target. In fact, it only serves to attract a very specific type of robber - the type that wears tights and wields death rays. However, even in Freedom City, there are unusual sights. Two of these unusual sights were just now shambling into the Eastern Seaboard Bank, mute and rotting. A pair of grey-skinned, half-decomposed corpses, clad in tattered suits, their eyes filmy and their mouths hanging open as if in silent shock. A security guard, reacting with commendable presence of mind, grabs for his sidearm and manages to fire three shots into one of the corpses' chest before it, with frightening speed, backhands him and sends him sprawling twenty feet. Screams break out - immediately nearly everyone in the bank begins streaming out through the doors, past the creatures, who don't seem the least bit interested in the fleeing civilians. Only the bank tellers remain where they are, crouching behind the bulletproof-glass partitions at their stations. One of the creatures staggers up to the counter, and mutely slams down a large, moldy burlap sack on the surface. A wooden sign is hung around its neck - the words "MONEY IN BAG" painted crudely upon it. With well-practiced and only slightly feigned calm, one of the tellers reaches unseen under the table and repeatedly mashes the silent alarm button...

14 February 2016, 9:00 AM Bishop Hall, Ottawa, Canada It was an early Sunday morning and outside Bishop Hall, the public facing headquarters of the Canadian superteam True North, the usual collection of reporters and photographers were already present. The general expectation was that it would be a slow news day though some press veterans knew the holidays always held that slight chance of weird. "Pardon," came a soft French-accented soprano. The owner of that voice was a short costumed woman wearing a mask and hood, a knapsack slung over one shoulder. Instinctively the press corps moved out of La Renarde Bleue's way as she approached the building ahead.

Talya was really at her limit of clever ways to disguise a pregnancy and while she could probably call in a favor for an image inducer, or get extraordinarily creative, she wasn't about to go through that effort for the classes she taught. For most classes, it simply meant that she stopped with concealing wardrobe and suffered through the well meaning well wishes of the students that she worked with. There was one student, however, that warranted a little more effort than that. It had been a few weeks since Raina's last session at the studio between school and apocalypses, and that sort of thing. It was only now that Claremont had gotten back into the swing of extracurriculars. The Espadas school was familiar and it wasn't unusual for the desk to be unmanned, especially if the teachers were setting up or tearing down for classes in the dojo proper. What was unusual was a small note on the counter attached to a very small Tiffany's box sitting on the countertop. In Talya's elegant handwriting, it said simply "Keep your shoes on today." Inside the box was a sterling silver keyring, empty but for an elegant pendant in the shape of a stylized lock on one side.

April 1st, 1:45 PM. "The Cline's huh? I watch their show." Came the cheery sounding tones of Det. Kirkendahl. A small smile on his face as he pulled up the rather nice house of the famous super powered couple in the unmarked sedan. He combed his hair back as he looked up at it. The partner, Det. Boyle, was checking his phone and frowning. "You would watch their show. You want to take the lead? I mean, these people aren't precisely the type we can buffalo easily, and they are going to be hiding things." The more severe looking dark haired detective frowned, and squinted as he looked up from his phone at their house, the unseasonably warm and clear day had him lifting his arm to blow the glare. "God, it is too sunny." "Probably not, so I guess we be as honest as possible, and hope they actually have something. It isn't like these types keep tabs on each other extensively." Rubbing at his chin Kirkendahl looked to Boyle, and then nodded. "Let's give it a go." He reached back to grab at the tablet, and he moved out of the car and up to the front door of the Cline's place. Boyle followed after him, a bit slower, having to get his jacket from the backseat as well. Moving after Kirkendahl, a bit of a quickened pace to make sure they made it to the door together, and he made a gruff sound. "Try not to be a starry eyed fan boy, eh?" And he hit the doorbell, before stepping back and shaking his head as he regarded Kirkendahl. "I will keep my gushing to a minimum, if you can stop being a cynical bastard." A smirk on his face as he glancing at Boyle, while waiting for the door to be opened.

Aboard the Xeno Syl'n System, inbound to Syl'n V Oskar was in the Xeno's cockpit, having recently dropped the vessel out of lightspeed and began its approach toward Syl'n V. Oskar had been hired by Kazzack Biogenetics, a corporation within the Lor Republic that was heavily involved in biomedical research and the pharmaceutical industry. While much of the corporation’s operations were on heavily populated Lor worlds, it did have one small, but important operation on Syl'n V, where it had teams that harvested rare plants which had incredible medicinal properties. Recently, some members of the harvesting teams had been killed by what appeared to be some sort of predatory animal. So Kazzack had contracted Oskar, and one of his associates, Seika, to travel to Syl'n V and see if they could track down what was attacking the harvesting teams. According to the information Oskar had received, Syl'n V was a lush tropical planet, with no native sentient species. The only inhabitants of the planet were the Kazzack harvesting team, who operated out of a small outpost on the central continent. Oskar had been provided the comm frequency for the outpost so he could make contact as they approached the planet.

"I hate fish people," said Det. Boyle. The fifteen veteran of the FCPD groused as his partner, Det. Kirkendahl pulled their car up at the Cline Building. In his early forties, Boyle was a hardbitten looking man, from a job that tended to create hardbitten people. He had been assigned to Major Crimes for a year, or so, before getting put to STAR, it is possibly a punishment. His dark hair was streaked with grey, and thinning at the top, but he kept it short. Dark eyes always probing and being inquisitive, crows feet in the corners to match the various worry lines, as a map of cynicism (realism if you asked him). There was a sense of being lived in, though he kept his off the rack suits meticulous. "Now, Boyle, you can't use those terms this day and age. We have be modern and understanding, besides, it's been forever since they invaded," Kirkendahl responded to the grumpy grousing of his partner. He was lighter, dirty blonde hair, and a less careworn face, but he was actually older than Boyle by a couple years, though they had pretty contiguous lengths of service. Though he had actively sought out duty on STAR as a challenge, in opposite his partner. He parked the sedan, and turned to his partner and smirked, "Besides, this... Thaelia woman is a Princess, which y'know good for us schmucks to hob nob with the upper class." He was slightly more crumpled looking, but then his suits fit less due to recent weight loss, so he had yet to update his wardrobe. The withering glare he received was indicative of Boyle's general countenance, as well as his joy at what Kirkendahl said. "Do I look British? Besides she is living in a project, sure a Super project, but a project. Let's get this over with before she does some bizzare fish person thing." And with that he was out of the car, and striding towards the lobby, and then the elevator. "A little! Around the eyes! You like Lana Del Ray, for Chrissake!" Kirkendahl had to pull on his suit jacket, before following, but he made his way after him, and into the elevator on the way up. "After this... wanna get some dinner? I am feeling sushi." Unable to hold in the Cheshire grin on his face as he did that. The response was a stony silence. * * * A short while later they were knocking at the door to Thaelia's door, before hitting the little intercom button. "Your Highness? This is Detectives Kirkendahl and Boyle, with the FCPD, we're here to talk to you about a classmate of yours, may we come in?" asked Kirkendahl, his finger pressing on the button, before rocking back on his heels and glancing to Boyle and releasing it. "Think we may have to call her?" "I don't think fish people have phones."

The Fens, Freedom City, New Jersey April 5, 2016, 9:25 PM It was a typical Tuesday night in Freedom City. While the full nightlife of downtown and other areas around the city were not at the levels they achieved over the weekend, the restaurants and some other venues were still doing good business. But in the southeastern corner of the city know as the Fens the streets were a lot more dark and deserted. While the waterfront bars and adult bookstores that tended to littler the area were open, they were far from crowded. Those that lived in the area tended to remain inside come nightfall, inside the often rundown, low rent buildings that made up most of the Fens. While the FCPD had been trying to step up efforts to patrol the Fens and "clean it up," there was still a fair bit of crime in its shadow alleys and streets. As such, it was not uncommon for some of the city's costumed heroes to be out patrolling the Fens. Indeed, the desire to try to help the troubled area had brought three separate heroes to the dark rooftops and alleys of the Fens this evening. Cassidy Bauer, also known as Bonfire, lived in the Fens, so he saw the crime and difficult conditions that the area suffered from on a daily basis. James White, aka Quantum Shift, was a newcomer to this dimension, having arrived from an alternate Earth. But that did not stop him from using the abilities he had gained from alien experimentation to try to help the people of his adopted new home. Jason Draco was a Freedom City native, although he grown up in North Bay, the part of Freedom City as geographically and economically opposite the Fens as possible. Having been away from Freedom City for seven years, Jason found the Fens little better than it had been when he had last read about it. Now, as Eternal Dragon, he could possible make at least some small difference that might change that. All three were moving through the shadows of the Fens when the shrill sound of police sirens echoed over other noises of the city. Not long after, a loud *BOOM* reverberated through the air, rattling windows as it seemed to echo from the edge of the area that bordered the Theater District.

November 1, 2015 The DuTemps Building While the machine intelligence briefed the superheroes on relevant global events she'd gathered from observing the planet's news cycle, Tarva, her head on her hand and shoulders slumped as usual to disguise her great height, was in the process of making notes on her yellow legal pad, the heavy black ink of her pen scratching quietly as she worked. NORMAL MOVIE FOR KIMBER - 2001? CLOCKWORK ORANGE? AN ANDALUSIAN DOG? She didn't really understand the appeal of any of the bizarrely sanitized movies that people on Earth-Prime enjoyed watching, but after some consideration (and careful scrutinizing of their plots), she'd selected a few that she thought would make for an enjoyable evening. When Bluebird paused to change topics to recent interstellar news, Tarva nonchalantly put her hand under the table and rested it on Kimber's thigh, giving her lover a warm smile as she locked eyes with her. They'd have an evening all to themselves yet. Nobody's going to come between us, she thought comfortingly. Nobody.

Early February 2016 The weekend came and went - and Riley and Robin weren't back on campus from their weekend furlough. After classes on Monday, the RAs, with serious faces, assured Woodsman and Nighthawk's friends that the school knew where they were. On Tuesday, Headmaster Summers made a general announcement that Robin Chevalier had been seriously injured in the field and was currently recovering at McNider Hospital. These things didn't happen that often at Claremont; but there were procedures in place for counseling, for making cards, for hospital visits - it was something the staff all had in hand. There was no need to cut school, not when visiting hours would still be open in the evening. Of course, all that assumed you wanted to listen to staff in the first place. - Robin hadn't wanted to go to the hospital - hadn't wanted to go at all. But the personal intervention of Headmaster Summers, who had met the pair of them at the Goodman Building clinic on Sunday night, had changed her mind; largely with the reassurances that a false name would get her in the system without any risk of the system finding her again. McNider was the oldest hospital in Freedom City. They'd been discreetly taking care of superheroes for decades now. Riley'd gone to the hospital too, mostly to make sure he hadn't irradiated himself when he'd grappled Tesla Atom at the moment she'd been bisected by the forces between dimensions. He wound up calling from Robin's room, though, carefully punching out digits on the hospital phone. It was Tuesday mid-morning, right? It had been easy enough to lose track the last day, when all he'd been thinking about was the burned, bleeding woman on the bed, the one he'd have given his heart for. Luckily she was asleep - for now.

Date: April 1, 2016 Location: Hilo, Hawaii It being April 1st, the early reports of 'nightmare creatures disgorged from the seabed' were assumed to be prank calls especially since these particular calls came from a less populous corner. It was only when the wedding party showed up for their sunset pictures that the panic truly started. While most of the white sand remained lovely and pristine, close to the water's edge it began to blacken, smoldering in the heat. At first glance it seemed that an odd fissure had opened up in the beach, disgorging lava from some previously unknown magma tunnel - boiling the water that touched the edges of the disturbance and sending plumes of smoke into the air. It was only when the lava groaned and then rolled over that true hysteria set in. Across the country, the Freedom League's headquarters lit up with alarms and reports of monsters and nightmares and living lava from panicked officials that were not sure exactly what governmental service one called for that sort of thing. Thankfully, there was always the Freedom League standing ready. Of course as the panic was happening in the late evening in Hawaii, the League got the alerts a little before 4AM by Freedom City's clock. A hero's work was never done!

Hinocorp Nautical Concepts Front Showroom 2:23am, Saturday, April 2, 2016 GM The Freedom City PD are milling around the shattered glass of the front showroom as the detectives and crime scene investigators look over the scene. A captain Peterson has her hands on her hips as the clean-suited crime scene techs look over everything with a fine-toothed comb. A couple KOed security guards in blue jumpsuit-like uniforms with the Nautical division of Hinocorp Heavy Industries' logo on a pocket are being tended to by paramedics for a couple good bruises over their eyes and inhaling some sort of gas that knocked them out that has them nauseous. "Can't believe there's nothing yet that anyone's found..." The Captain said looking over to the head of the investigation team, a Detective Samuels. His gruff look hid some caring eyes and an attention for detail. "Yeah, smashed the outer windows, but not anything in here was stolen." "Except what was up with the office on the second floor?" "Dunno. The computers were on but no one was up there but those two security guys..." "Hmm... think we should put a call out to the state crime lab?" "I think we could keep it in the city for now. I called in a couple of favors to get a couple cowls in on this." "Which ones?" "Terrifica, Shrike and some new kid, Bonfire" "Well two of them I know... not sure on Bonfire..." "Well we'll see soon enough!"

Nơi mẹ Restaurant, San Diego It was one of those small out of the way places that only the locals knew about that served possibly some of the best Vietnamese food outside of the country. Blodeuwedd was quite proud that she'd been able to track down the place despite having only been in town for a few hours. Having just finished up some business for the Order and having a few hours before her flight back to Freedom City she thought she'd catch up with her old friend from Claremont Giang Trang. Right now was almost unrecognizable in a well cut suit her hair pulled into a severe bun playing the part of the young businesswoman. To be honest she'd be happy to get out of character into something much more comfortable.