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GM Thursday, April 20th, 2017 2:24 PM Morning, this came in today. Not as in, was sent, but as in “suddenly popped up in my drafted messages”. Is directed towards you too, so check it out: Hello You may remember me, I’m the one that helped you with Solemn’s network. I’ve got some information you and your scaly buddy are almost certainly interested in. New stuff about the guy and some stuff heating up again. The bench, where we first met. Today, 7:24 PM. Both of you. This is not a request. -Ph0enix Thoughts? Sounds pretty damn ominous, but going’s probably safer. All messages by Bonfire, written in quick succession, and received by Leviathan.

Early Summer 2018 Jordan International Airport The busload of tourists who had recently been getting ready for their tour of Freedom City were certainly getting an eyeful, thought Watchdog. As the driver recovered from the punch she'd landed on the side of his head, she had to wonder if the touring company was going to give them their money back. "You think you can smuggle poison dope in my city? Those kids _died!_" The truth was that Rodrigo here was a pretty low-level dealer, but a sound beating from a vigilante was just the thing to get him to lay off and move out of town. Or so the Raven had suggested, anyway, and so Ashley had passed on to her superiors. He hadn't actually killed anyone with the watered-down crap he was selling to the nightshift package handlers, but if he thought he had, he'd probably run off and do something stupid that would lead the Raven or the cops to his boss. "I didn't kill anybody I swear to God!" Rodrigo wept, putting his hands up as he braced himself against the side of the bus. "SWEAR TO ME!" responded Watchdog as she kicked him again, knocking him to the ground and drawing her pistols. She really did hate dealers, and that made it easy to put real menace in her voice as she advanced on him."SWEAR YOU DIDN'T POISON THAT LITTLE GIRL! GO AHEAD!"

GM January 26, 2018 Everything was going to hell. By all rights, Tandem Robotics was just a research and development company that no one really knew much about or paid any real attention to. They were a well-funded business nonetheless, and in the last five years had been making forays into the realm of energy production. For a while, it was all theoretical research, nothing truly noteworthy. Somewhere in the last two weeks, however, everything changed. The blackout stretched for blocks. By the time police were on the scene, the overcast skies lent an ominous aura to the entire situation. And it was very much a situation. The seven story structure where Tandem Robotics was housed seemed to be in some sort of lockdown. Witnesses were being interviewed, but police had surrounded the building, trying to keep people out and witnesses/victims secure. The violet beam sending pulsing waves of light into the night sky didn'tseem to be helping matters at all, either. Right up until it wasn't.

Wharton State Forest, just off Sorrow House Road Right Now The creature in the clearing lounged in a throne made of bone enjoying there first taste of freedom in centuries. It had expected someone to try and stop its return but was really disappointed by the effort, only a single human female had tried to stop them with her flaming sword. She was now held by some of the skeleton warriors, servants of old returned to carry on there servitude. The glowing green eyes beneath her hood was a nice touch they'd have to determine how she managed such a trick. "Did you expect to be able to beat me all by yourself pitiful human?" "Not exactly." the woman voice had an accent unfamiliar to them "Let me tell you how this all started a..."

GM Feb 18th, The Fens In the morning... It happened practically outside Bonfire's door. At some ungodly hour in the morning, when everyone should, rightly, be asleep or nursing a hang over after partying to hard the night before. Or at the very least, pounding alertness back in to their head with a strong coffee. On the streets in the Fens, where the paucity of wealth and opportunity oft forced the youth into nefarious and dangerous pastimes. A gang of thugs was engaging in mindless vandalism. Baseball bats and clubs, sticks, and stones. These wonderful devices, and more, were being used to splendid effect in the ignoble pursuit of window smashing and car wrecking. There was the growl and scream of angry dogs, for this gang was armed with what looked to be rabid and viscous dogs. And now, a patrol car arrived. "Halt! Put your hands up!" Then screaming. A shot. Two shots. And more screaming. The two police officers were pinned to the floor by the thugs and the dogs, and looked, verily, to be in danger of imminent loss of limb. Or quite possibly life.

GM “Be careful with that, ya mook.” The hissed voice echoed in the gloom of the cavernous space, and was coupled with the sound of a slap as one of the intruders into the quiet space smacked his fellow upside the head. They called it Devil’s Cove… or at least, some people had done, a very long time ago. Most people now didn’t call it anything, because most people didn’t come to this water-logged cavern a few dozen miles from Freedom City’s harbour. Why would they? There was nothing out this far. The wi-fi reception was terrible. But there were some things it had going for it. This late at night, when the stars are in the sky and the moon is shining down on the waves, there is a kind of quiet beauty to it. Serene, even. The natural cavern is far enough away from the city that there’s no intrusion of sound or pollution this far out. Few prying eyes came out this far. Which also made it a fantastic place for smugglers. The submarine that they had used to get this far was now surfaced at the mouth of the cave, the dull, dark metal glinting under the pale moonlight. The top hatch has opened, and a dozen people are in the process of quickly and efficiently unloading the cargo. Crates upon crates of contraband have filled the belly of the submarine, and in amongst all of them was the secret that had – unknowingly – ensured that the entire venture would come crashing down. Somewhere in there, there’s some Daka Crystals. The extremely valuable items were due for sale to some very unsavoury characters, and word had hit the street that they would be coming in tonight.

GM Saturday, March 24th Later Afternoon... The sun hung low in the sky, and the shadows were long, but it was a surprisingly warm day, and people were in fair spirits. Jackson street was a smaller road in the Theatre district, full of more avante garde art and artists. As was the case when art was less than a blinding success, money was thin in wallets and pockets. And this close to the Fens, the paucity of wealth started to blend with the abundance of crime that goes with it. Perhaps the highlight of Jackson Street was The Square Moon, a Sort of Jazz club. It was "sort of" because it played all sorts of esoteric and crazy music of limited popularity that proclaimed itself to be both artistic and cool. And usually had some maddening time signature. In addition, the Square Moon attracted all sorts of new age and wiccan types and had a barely believed reputation for being seeped in sorcery. Outside the Square Moon, a tall man of Asian heritage in a cool turtleneck was pacing up and down and smoking heavily, quite worried. He was stopping passers by and those coming in and out of the Square Moon showing them pictures of two kids, but with limited success. Maybe the young man known as Facsimile might help as he passed by? And meanwhile... Victoria Gold has received a hand written, hand delevired note of brief nature. Trouble at the Square Moon with Katarnachists. I need your help. Meet me outside at 5pm. Wear a circle. Followed by the sigil of the Guardians of the Wheel. Which, as far as Victorian Gold knew, only the Guardians of the Wheel knew.....

Spring 2018 A Saturday evening Anna appeared in Jette's office, sitting in the office chair directly in front of the latter's desk. She was smirking, her legs crossed demurely before her, and wearing an orange tracksuit like someone who'd gone jogging in a Bedlam winter. "Hey, Rocket Shorts! Remember me?" There was only one person who had ever called Jette Rocket Shorts, even though she'd heard almost nothing of that worthy since she'd gone to jail - three years _after_ Jette herself had gone behind bars. Anna Cline was a good twenty-five years her senior, closer to her late partner's age than her own, but the smile lines were thin enough and the blonde hair real enough that it was clear she didn't look her age; if anything, she looked Jette's age or a few years younger.

GM Kestevan 79 Coalition Victory Station Lor time mark 1482.4 [April 2, 2016 (Terran Calender)] The slightly over a year that had passed since the Battle of Kestevan 79 and the defeat of the Communion had seen the former Communion mothership converted into a thriving center of galactic trade and politics. Multiple city sized sections of the former Communion mothership had been converted into living areas, markets and commercial districts, ship yards, industrial facilities, and all the other amenities one would expect of advance spacefaring societies. The station had become a truly cosmopolitan collection of the various galactic civilizations that had made up the Coalition that had defeated the Communion. Within the station there could be found representatives from all the races that made of the former Coalition members, and beyond. While it was not uncommon for tensions to exist between those that had long been enemies, those feeling were somewhat offset by the promise that the station represented, when those former enemies had come together to face a common foe and ensure the survival of all. But today, the normal routine of the vast space station had been disrupted, at least for the organizations aboard with sensor equipment that scanned the area around the station and monitored the traffic at the nearby wormhole which connected the remote system to other parts of the known galaxy. Just a short while ago, a Stellar Khanate cruiser had emerged from the wormhole, quickly causing the many smaller transports that were flying to or from the wormhole to scatter from its path. The Khanate cruiser approached CoVic Station at a steady pace, not making any overtly hostile movements. As best as the many sensors scanning it could tell, the cruiser had not charged any of its many weapons. Then, a transmission was sent from the Khanate cruiser to CoVic Station, focused on the channels used by the various governmental embassies, the station peacekeepers and administrators, and the Praetorians. "Greetings, I am Ambassador Draan Raal of the Stellar Khanate." Stated a stern and confident Zultasian noble in GalStandard. "I am here on behalf of the great Kinan Khan and request an audience with the ambassadors of the Lor Republic, Grue Unity and other governments that made up the Coalition Council which have official embassies aboard Coalition Victory Station."

March 31. The Internet. 11:45 EST It wasn’t always easy, but the superheroic costumed detective (among a few other things) Terrifica had sent out her carefully worded invitations. Terrifica herself was at home in Boston. Her husband was still awake, but her two children slept the sleep of the very young and carefree. She had taken great care to retrofit this particular chat room software (“borrowed” from a certain popular program) to be invisible to all but the most dedicated searchers. No program or system was entirely unhackable, but there was something to be said for going under the radar to avoid being hacked in the first place. The ultimate purpose of the chat room was the same as the invitations. Terrifica’s very nature precluded not looking into mysterious or suspicious circumstances, and what she found was often criminal in nature. Therefore, it needed stopping. And while various law enforcement bodies were quite capable in their own right, there were situations they were not fit to handle. Situations that required a…superheroic touch. Terrifica interceded in this situations when she could, and requested assistance from her protégé and friend Miracle Girl when she could not. However, this still left certain situations unresolved. This would not do. She had wrangled with it for the better part of a year, but there was no realistic choice. She would have to outsource further. To that end, the invitations (one time use links, as she would provide permanent ones to the regulars) and the chat room. She had informed Miracle Girl in person a few days ago, and requested her presence as well. LittleMissTerrific loitered alone inside of it for now, a welcoming message (Welcome to Crimebusting Monthly!) and a short list of rules (1. Be civil to each other. 2. Respect each other’s privacy. 3. Try to use common sense.) pinned to the top of the general channel. There were four channels. #general, #herostuff, #suggestions, and #askagenius. Contrary to what those who didn’t know Terrifica well might think, #askagenius was not where Terrifica would be replying to questions. She had a bot for that, linking to Wikipedia and various other pertinent websites for information. All that there was left to do…was wait.

March 2018 UC-San Diego The UC-San Diego campus wasn't quite dead during spring break. They had far too many residential students, and students who lived on-campus, for that. But as Mark Lucas sat on the soft green grass of the Warren Mall, he mostly had the place to himself, minus a picnicking couple down the way and a guy doing his best to study despite the occasional gust of wind kicking up the pages of his textbook. He wasn't really paying attention, though. "I've been keeping an eye out and so have our friends, but so far there's been no sign of any assassins. I think maybe this was another empty threat. Listen, I promise I'll Skype you once we get there - yes, my phone has service in Dakana. I'm just waiting for my friend so I can give her a ride. Love you too, babe, and give the baby a kiss for me." Feeling sentimental, Mark hung up the phone and checked the West Coast time - did he had time to pop back over and see his wife and son before playing taxi for Tsunami? Probably not. With a sigh, he slipped his phone in his pocket and waited for his rendezvous.

Pilor II Along the outer length of the Perseus Arm, former Khanate Space Lor time mark 1753.1 [January 13, 2018 (Terran Calendar)] Liora Sylestrin, also known as the Praetorian Spectra, guided the sleek form of the Kavaca through the smoky atmosphere of Pilor II. The bleak rocky surface of the planet stretched out below the Praetorian spacecraft, spotted with rivers of lava that flowed up from below the surface. Located within the boundaries of a confederation of worlds that had remained independent from the Stellar Khanate following the Incursion and the return of Star Khan, Pilor II had become a focal point of industrial activity. Several newly formed corporations had been granted mining rights on the world, seeking to harvest the numerous precious minerals and ores to fuel the development of the confederation worlds. But recently some of those mining activities had been disrupted to such a degree that it had led to a request for assistance from the Praetorians. And so Spectra was piloting the Kavaca towards the Regulas Corporation's main facility on the world, along with her fellow Praetorians Moon-Moth and Cavalier. The facility had just come into view, a larger collection of attached buildings that stretched out on numerous pillars that kept them well above several lava rivers that flowed beneath. The Kavaca's sensors locked onto the landing beacon for the designated landing platform as they drew near.

GM Atlantic Ocean April 9th, 3:00 pm Over the weekend three ships had been attacked. The sailors had reported giant snake like creatures that had emerged up out of the dark and struck. The sailors had expected to be eaten or for the ships to be sunk. Instead the serpents had plucked cargo containers off the ships and tossed them into the deep. Koa had seen the news reports and decided he’d look into it. He’d seen sea serpents before and, maybe Atlantic ones acted differently, but that wasn’t how they behaved. After class he jogged on down to the waterfront and dove in. If I keep near the ships coming in and out maybe I can catch these weird sea serpents in the act.

Freedom City Central Downtown Wading Way 13:15 21st of march 2018 Wading way was a nice neighbourhood, anyone you asked would tell you so, lots of strong local businesses operated out of there so there was a lot of opportunity for work and a strong economy, resilient even in the face of the rampant meta-human events that seemed to be perpetually going on around the infamous city of heroes, which thanks to the wealth and affluence of its occupants seemed to weather the storms of energy blasts and super strength backed blows better than other neighbourhoods. They had been enjoying a nice run of good weather as of late, perfect infact for taking ones lunch out to the various civic parks or even just to the bench around the corner from your workplace, it had all been going so well, but then, it usually was before something kicked off. That in this case a bright red steam locomotive ripped through the air with a thrumming cascade of light and strange energies, was something novel but hardly unique in the face of day to day occurrences, many watched none nonplussed it it slid across the ground smoothly, held aloft on a cushion of light and air and pulled up outside the bank. A scant few moments the doors flung open and a crowed of extremely similar looking cowboys, far more than one would reasonable expect to fit into the cab of such a vehicle, raced from the street into the glassy front doors of the wading way 3rd national bank. It was going to be one of those days it seemed.

Kestevan 79 Coalition Victory Station (February 2018 (Terran Calendar)) It was a typical day for most on CoVic Station, with millions of sentient beings going about their daily routines as normal. But within the headquarters of the Praetorians located on the Main Plaza, it was something of an unusual day, as a majority of the teams members were all present at the same time. Amara Val-Ren walked into one of the side chambers off the main hall of the Praetorian headquarters. The Naram was, as normal, dressed in the costume she wore as Paradigm, a full length white bodysuit with black diamond patterns on the shoulders and the upper chest and back. Each of these patterns had a golden yellow trim. Black gloved covered each hand, going up almost the full length of each forearm, while her black boots similarly went halfway up her calves. Both had similar golden yellow trim. As she walked further into her room, her long black cape trailed slightly behind her. The room was dimly lit and was not regularly frequented. To either side of the room were several rows of holograms representing dozens of costumed beings from nearly as many worlds. As she slowly walked forward, Amara’s gaze drifted over numerous figures displayed. Among them was Raark, the feline F'terrix who had overseen her first missions as a Praetorian along with several of the others than had joined when she had. There was also Chrystaa, a powerful mentalist who had been one of the more senior members, and so many of her other comrades and friends who had fallen over two thousand years ago against the Communion. On the far end of the room, opposite the entrance, were about a dozen stone life sized statues of fallen Praetorians. These had been the memorials Kharag had managed to find time to finish before he had chosen to leave the team to seek out his people. Toward the center of this group was a statue of a male humanoid that resembled Amara. Kharag had captured Daar Val-Ren's powerful physique, the patterns of his costume, identical to Amara’s (though the colors had been different). Kharag had even managed to capture the confident look that was regularly on the older Naram’s face. "I miss you brother." Amara said as she looked up at the carved replica of her brother's face. "I miss all of you." She added, glancing a moment at some of the other statutes and holograms before looking back up at the statute before her.

February 2018 St. Gregory's The area around St. Gregory's Church was the home of one of the larger Russian emigre communities in Freedom City, a legacy of the city's long history of accommodating immigrants from all over the planet - and beyond. The owner and manager of A Taste of Irkutsk, the closest thing you could get to authentic Siberian cuisine in this part of New Jersey, was a fairly recent arrival in Freedom City, with ample friends and family back in the old country. So when the most famous Russian super-agent in the United States called him and reserved a table, he'd been happy to provide whatever he needed - including a restaurant that was mostly empty despite this being the dinner hour. Sitting patiently at a table for two, Comrade Frost waited for the arrival of his guest. The message had come to the Davydov residence - not Claremont Academy. Comrade Frost, the longest-active member of the People's Heroes, had invited Vanya out for an evening of "delicious Siberian fare for the appetite of a young bear!" (the exclamation point had been in the original) - a pointed invitation that was difficult to refuse. Vanya had grown up on stories of the People's Heroes and how they'd defended the motherland from the Germans during the Great Patriotic War; Vanya's father had grown up on stories of the People's Heroes and how they kept the Soviet Union safe from the forces of capitalism. Who could turn one down? "Don't let him frighten you," Ivan had assured Vanya. "This is not 1975 and this is America, not Russia. Everything will be fine." Still, Ivan had opted to come to the restaurant with his son, promising to stay "out of the way and let you do the talking, since you are a big man now." The restaurant certainly smelled familiar as they got off the bus together, the scents of home easily detectable even on the street. Was that pelmini in there?

GM Saturday April 7th, 2018 6:00 pm Waco, Texas The Cameron Park Zoo was a point of pride for the city of Waco. Plenty of people used it as a source of outdoor recreation. Since early this morning dozens of people and cars had entered the park and none had come out. This alone would have been concerning. The fact that multiple bordering neighborhoods had been swallowed up as well made it all the worse. No less than a hundred people had gone missing, people had stopped going in, but no one was coming out. What had come out was a bear. From a distance, one might assume that it was one of the American Black Bears from the Cameron Park Zoo, perhaps even rightly. Except now it was about three times the size and when it had been approached by police it had breathed flames at them. To put it lightly? Not your average day in the park. Hyperactive had gotten the call about an expanded park early in the morning. He had at that point decided he wasn’t going to pick a fight with trees. When he’d heard the reports of missing persons he’d decided it might be his issue to fix. When he heard about a bear wandering down University Parks, it definitely became his issue to solve. So he decided it was time to run home.

Signa System Towards the inner edge of the Perseus Arm Lor time mark 1752.9 [January 12, 2018 (Terran Calendar)] The Signa system was located just out of the inner most edge of the Lor Republic. Its location, along with that of its neighbors, had long afforded it protection from the threats of the Grue Unity and the Stellar Khanate. This safety, and friendly relations with the Lor allowed those systems to flourish through peaceful cooperation and trade. When the Incursion had come and the Communion forces struck at the very center of Lor space, Signa and its neighbors found themselves suddenly on the forefront of the conflict. Their limited defense forces, even combined, were little match for the Communion, and it was only timely assistance by the Lor and other Coalition forces that prevented the sector from being completely overrun. As it was, several of Signa's neighboring systems were taken and cyberformed by the Communion, although large portions of their populations were evacuated to Signa and other neighboring systems. Once the Incursion was over, Signa continued to welcome its displaced neighbors as work began to try to undo the damage the Communion had done. Recently the system had been experiencing a rash of crimes committed by beings using supertech equipment. The local law enforcement had been unable to control the situation, so Signa’s representative to the Coalition Counsel had requested the assistance of the Praetorians. So now Traveller, Barrier, Hyperslice and Queenie were making their way along a corridor inside one of the orbiting cities above Signa Prime, the fifth planet from the large blue star at the center of the system. Large portions of the corridor were covered with translucent walls, which provided impressive views of the sprawling orbital city below, and the planet and star beyond. "I am so pleased for your assistance Praetorians." Stated Counselor Farrin in Gal Standard, the Signaian ambassador that had requested their assistance. Like all Signian natives, Counselor Farrin was a squat humanoid, covered with short dark brown fur. "A most vexing problem for our local law enforcement, but one that you should be able to handle."

GM April 1st, 2018, 12.01 AM In the ruins of Tharask, Lemurian City of Hope, the Night Sea of Sub-Terra Tharask had been empty for centuries long before the Great Cataclysm destroyed Lemuria and her human twin. But in its highest tower, in the heart of the Drowned Citadel, the voices of serpents resounded. The robes glimmered in the emerald light of the torches, a light reflected dully in the golden eyes of the procession being described around the bloodied circle. Thin, hissing voices rose and fell in song as scaled arms tipped by claws brandished wreathes of bone and weapons of obsidian glass. As the serpent people sang, the light of the torches changed, first to a healthy, ruddy orange, then deeper and deeper into a sickly, nauseating red. The golden eyes were eclipsed as slitted pupils expanded to draw in more light, the sibilant voices grew louder and faster, a savage tempo building as the eldritch forces at work began to work their will on the world. Suddenly, with a blinding flash and a peal like thunder, the thin fabric of the world was torn away, flinging a being from another world into the circle! <"It works, it works!"> they cried jubilantly, dancing with glee as their leader, resplendent in a crown and robes adorned with sea dragon fangs, swept into view of the new arrival. He pointed a staff topped with a gilded skull at them. <"Demon of the void,"> he began, before pausing, eyes squinting dubiously. Something was...strange about this demon. They were more human-looking than most, for starters. <"What infernal realm do you hail from, creature? As thine summoner, I do command thee to answer, and answer only with the truth as it pertains to the spirit of my question!"> -------------------------------------------------------------------- Aquaria had made a stunning discovery during the transfer of Deep One relics to the Freedom City museum. A stone tablet imbued with protective power held an intricate map carved long before the stone was enchanted. It showed the way to an ancient city built as a refuge by the Serpents in the early days of their forgotten empire. Tharask had been a glimmering pearlescent jewel in the crown of the Serpent Empire, a place where song and art were the greatest skills that could be cultivated, shimmering spires reached to the cavern roof and its artificial Sun shone day and night, spreading heat and life eternal. Then the War had swept into Sub-Terra and by Atlantean magic the false Sun seared the city until was bleached bone white, all life burned from its streets and towers. The walls of the cavern had broken, letting in the surrounding underworld sea to cover everything in icy darkness. But the wonders remained and the legends grew. More importantly Tharask was directly(relatively, Sub-Terra made such things hard to pin down) beneath the waters of the Great Bay. So here she was, floating in a giant flooded cave surrounded by the spear-head tips of pallid, crumbling buildings that smelled like death. With the unmistakable lights and sounds of a Serpent ritual drawing her closer to reptilian shadows and hissing voices.

Downtown Emerald City Though most of the development was done out at the MarsTech campus there was always a need to have a Downtown office, and Mars being Mars it was obviously the largest most dramatic building in the area. Three green crystals, each taller than the other, looking like they had grown from the ground to be bound in metal. Only from above was it apparent that the three together formed a giant M. It might be an architectural marvel, but it still needed the modern comforts that made working there bearable. Unlike most buildings it airconditioning was all on the roof but rather discretely scattered throughout the building, and concerned about a possible chemical attack it has some cutting-edge filtration equipment, that contained some rather nasty chemicals. Many service companies bid for the lucrative contract to maintain this system but only one company won, thanks to the planning and knowledge of one skilled young engineer...

GM Post Freedom Ledger, Business pages GRANT CEO RETIRES by Dancia Devons The business world was surprised today by the announcement of the retirement of Grant Conglomerate CEO Jonathan Grant (57). Even more surprising was the announcement of the appointed of his daughter Sarah Grant (28) to the position. Ms. Grant has been a champion of metahuman and alien right and averment critic of her own father. FEUD WITH MARSTECH DEEPENS by Dancia Devons The Grant Conglomerate has pulled out of a co-project with MARSTECH to develop the new Spartoi Powered Armor for the US Army, citing severe mismanagement of the project.

As well as being a responsible city Freedom City was also a place that knew how to let it's hair down, and like everything, Superheroes liked to party. Thought of often very different beliefs, many of them gathered to celebrate the Holiday season in the superhero equivalent of an Office Party. At various point through Freedom City heroes, in and out of costume gathered to celebrate the Holiday season together Morley's Pub, West End

September 4th, 2017, 10.45AM Atlantis, The First Circle, 4 1/2 miles beneath the surface The Tethys slid into the dock, great arms reaching out of the glittering darkness to hold it fast. Hundreds of meters from bow to stern, the craft was Atlantis' principal ambassadorial ship, made to resemble a stylized whale. For the last two hours it had made the lengthy, swift passage to the Wizard's Rest, carrying diplomats and representatives from dozens of nations, organizations and interests. Among them were the supremely British extradimensional envoy Lord Steam and Dol-Druth the Speaker, face of an alien hivemind. The lounge door opened, admitting Ventures Lina and Atherus. Lina spoke first, saying gravely "We have arrived, thank you for you patience." Uniformed in deep blue, metallic green and silver, the Atlantean envoys looked nigh-identical in their space-age fibers and short-cropped black hair and closed green eyes. Lina tapped a crystal on her left bracer, at which the disembarkment hatch opened up across the lounge's outer wall, letting down a ramp 80 feet down to the dock below, up which a squad of Atlantean soldiers and a blonde woman in flowing red metal began to walk. There were murmurs and the discreet snapping of photos as the shining expanse of Atlantis, city of science and sorcery, lay revealed. At first blush, it strongly resembled great rings of luminescent sea coral. Envoy Lina gestured politely to the approaching party "Princess Thetis will escort you to the Palace of Poseidon, where you will have a chance to rest and refresh yourselves after your long journey. Atherus and I will accompany you and ensure you see all you wish and go where you will. Please collect your personal items before you leave, the Tethys may be called into action and we do not wish for you to lose anything, should the vessel be damaged." The surfacers wasted no time, many hurrying to their cabins while others collected the luggage that had never left their side. Dol-Druth snorted, heaving his enormous, corpse-white bulk to his feet, his eyes flashing faintly blue as he called on some of the shared brainpower of his people to complete the process. He had carried nothing with him but a small all-metal suitcase. "A hospitable people, Lord Steam," he remarked, turning his cold black eyes and twitching his antennae in the direction of the oncoming Atlanteans "we suspect they will want a great deal in return. Your thoughts?"

GM July 30th, 2017, 12.12PM Nolan Airfields, Emerald City @olopi @Sailor Nolan Aerospace's proud and elite cadre of pilots, trained in the rigors of modern search, rescue and survival techniques, were assembled on the airfield for a very abrupt mission. Also in attendance was a smaller team of marginally less-fit people, almost all with glasses and pale skin from a decade or so indoors. "Okay, team, this is the situation!" Carrie Ping had to yell to be heard over the spectral howling that rang in the air. With one hand busy holding her coat's neon orange hood down, she used the one with the tablet to point at the scene right above their heads. An enormous, pulsating cloud of neon green, violet and orange swam and writhed a hundred thousand feet in the air, wrapped and skulming over the chassis of an immobile passenger jet. Sometimes the forms that burst from the cloud, or coalesced within its depths, looked almost human. Like people screaming and struggling to escape. But they always collapsed back into the great morass. The shadows it cast across the Emerald Cities Valley weaved with colour to create some truly unsettling sights. "We have no idea what that is, or what it's doing! ASTRO Labs and Archetech claim it's some kind of partial tear in our dimensional fabric, but even that much isn't for sure! All we know is it burst out of nowhere, grabbed the plane and started screaming!" "J-C Base dispatched some recon craft, but they couldn't even get into the cloud! Archetech has called Citizen, but he won't be here for hours, something's going on over in 'Jersey! Your job is to try and get to the plane, free it if possible!" The screams rose to a howling shriek, like the inner wall of a cyclone. For a moment everyone there had to cover their ears and wait for the rattling in their skulls to stop. "If not-! Sweet Sidda, my ears...if not, evacuate everyone you can! Techs, WestRock probably already told you, but you're needed in case the plane's systems are damaged, and all of it runs on WestRock software!" With a semi-free hand, Carrie pointed to Anne, Jaime and Hakim. "You three! You get to take point! The rest will follow your lead! Jaime, is the Peregrine prepped and ready?" "'Course she is, boss! No thanks to the pilot!" The red-haired woman who'd answered grinned easily and looked thoroughly relaxed, despite the bizarre situation. Putting an arm around Anne's shoulder she squeezed against her "Just my luck I love a sleepyhead!" "That's great!" Carrie gave a thoroughly unenthusiastic thumbs-up "Go with peace, people! We'll be praying for your safe return! Please, please, please do not do anything stupid to try and be heroes!" She gave a sharp wave to encompass the group as a whole "Dismissed! Everyone to your stations! Good luck!"

GM Inside the SouTeq headquarters building, Thebes, Egypt, Earth-C-Tech-20970 50 years since big business superceded governments, 1 month since the creation of the Device, 45 minutes since entry, three and one-quarter seconds since things began to go wrong... With a bone-jarring impact Marcel Suvou, one of the richest and most powerful men on Earth, flew headlong into a transparent wall, the creation of exotic polymers and high-stressed metal rippling around him as he slumped awkwardly against one of the obsidian lions inexplicably ringing the office. The archaic-looking wristwatch that would have ended her for good lay peacefully on Marcel's desk. But, despite her lighting-swift kick, Scion was still in trouble. The alarm rattled and screamed through the thick, hot night air and even with the suitcase she had risked so much for mag-locked to her arm it would take a miracle to make it hers. Outside, in the halls she had been sauntering through without a care, she could hear booted feet, the heavy tread of bullbots and the ringing shrieks of hawkbots as the small army she had ghosted past just minutes ago moved to trap her. Outside, beyond the balcony, she could see the complex moving into lockdown. She could also see the relatively gentle slope of the SouTeq Building's pyramidal facade. At the least, it would be faster than walking.