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June 13th, 2013 Rosh Pina Airport, Golan Heights, Israel Midday The sun was beating down on the airport tarmac, raising heat mirages from the pavement. Jessica Parker was intensely grateful for the shade of a hanger, and more glad that the L-100 Hercules was on schedule. She was dressed sensibly for being so near the equator, in a white skirt, white blouse, and dark brown wrap, and she was making sure to drink plenty of water, but this still a very different environment than Freedom City. Jessica's phone vibrated in her pocket and her headset beeped at her. She pressed a button and listened in on the conversation between the control tower and the approaching cargo plane with half an ear. She put the rest of her attention to scanning the skies, until she spotted a metallic glint against the clouds. A minute later, the wide-bodied aircraft bellied out of the sky and make tire-squealing contact with the runway, slowing down quite rapidly. Before long it was simply taxiing, approaching the hanger. She glanced back at the interior of the empty space, at the military truck holding IDF soldiers and a man in a UNISON jumpsuit. She took in a deep breath and blew it out, still uneasy at the military presence. Israel had insisted, though, and that was that. At least the Baron had agreed to fly down for this; otherwise Jessica would be completely on her own.

GM Post Hanover Institute of Technology Today was a fine day to be one of the few who had the luxury of sporting a lab coat to work every day. Doctors, biologists and scientists all over made their way to the Hanover Institute of Technology. Today they were hosting the annual GBCE (Grant Biochemical Expo). This was started some 20 years ago by Grant Conglomerates to show off its newest hardware, but had since been expanded into an industry wide affair. Everything from microscopes, to MRI machines to DNA sequencers was on display. The expo was being held in HIT's largest gymnasium, and even spilled out into the nearby hallways, as well as having several outdoor booths. There were of course refreshments in the cafeteria. There were representatives from a multitude of think tanks, hospitals, police forces, government agencies, and investors looking to get in on the action. This was of course in addition to all of the students who were taking the opportunity to try to do some networking for their subsequent job hunting. A few lucky students even had a booth set up for some of their research that they've done at HIT over the past few months. Suffice to say, the place was packed. There was no telling who you might run into.

GM May 14th, Monday, 2013, 5.00PM Martel Enterprises(American Branch Main Office), Wading Way, Freedom City Eve Martel had been paying a brief, albeit incisive, visit to her family's local holdings in the city, catching up on the sometimes quick, sometimes slow but always continuing advancement of human knowledge that Martel Enterprises assisted. In the main lobby she and the three research leads were making their final polite goodbyes as the day shift began making way for the night, when a noise of somebody frantically running downstairs interrupted them, the four turning to see Dr. Florence Bridges practically leap the last staircase and come racing up to them, eyes wide, graying brown hair nearly shaken out of its bun. Nearly colliding with the quartet, she caught herself a few feet from them and stood for a few seconds, gulping in air before she managed to gasp out "M-Miss Martel! It's Garamond, h-he's vanished! I was in the r-r-room with him, talking about that new species of bact-anyway, I looked away for a second to get a book from his shelf, and when I looked back he had just...just disappeared!" The research leads glanced at each other, one of them deftly slipping the radio from her belt and calling security sotto voce, one of the others moving to calm Dr. Bridges while the third turned quickly to Eve "It might be best to evacuate the building, with your leave I'll start sending word to the employees" Meanwhile, the dignified-looking man attempting to lead Dr. Bridges to a chair suddenly asked sharply "Doctor, where's your radio?" Florence looked dazedly at the empty spot on her belt, then stiffened. "I...I had it when I went to his office, maybe I dropped it...no. It was gone when I turned around too!"

GM May 20th, Monday, 2013 Beaudrie Opera House, Theatrical District, Freedom City "...And that, more or less, is why we invited you two rockers to our fine institution" explained Celeste Beaudrie, the pale middle-aged woman looking trim and crisp in her austere blue suit and skirt, standing beside the door leading into the backstage. Through the walls thrilled the voice of Marguerite, singing desolately of lost love. The dark hallway buzzed with activity, busy people marching, jogging or dashing past on the jobs that ran the opera. "You go on in half an hour. Everything has been made prepared for your performance and we have some of the best musical equipment in the city if you need more. Any questions?" She asked briskly, checking her watch for a flickering moment.

GM Wednesday, April 17, 2013 10:20 PM A thick curtain of cloud hung over Freedom City, concealing the moon behind them. The lack of moonlight made the streets of Southside even darker than normal, a stark contrast to the bright lights of downtown Freedom City across the black waters of the South River. For a group of high school students from nearby Claremont Academy, the moonless night made for a perfect opportunity to get out and patrol for crime. Tonight it was a group of four such students who were flying through the dark skies, or teleporting along the shadowy rooftops, of a rundown neighborhood of Southside near the Boardwalk. Tonight's patrol had been arranged by two of the teenagers, Subito Sondo , also known as El Heraldo, and Katharine (Kat) Shade (Warp). They were accompanied by two of their other classmates, Serge Explinker (Net Fly) and Giang Trang (Tsunami). It had taken Subito and Kat a fair amount of work to convince Giang to agree to join the patrol tonight. Ever since early February, the Asian teen had been extremely reluctant to leave school grounds. The rumors had circulated around the school that she and John Smith (Myrmidon) had been attacked by a Chinese sorcerer and a group of martial artists at the Chinese New Year celebration in Freedom City's Chinatown, though Giang did not discuss much about the incident. But in the end she had relented to their pressure, and was now accompanying Kat, who was teleporting the pair from rooftop to rooftop, following along after Subito and Serge, both of whom were flying. So far, the evening had been relatively uneventful, with the four having only thus far stopped a couple of gang members who had been trying to steal a car.

Trevor Hunter was more than a little glad when the attendant announced they would be landing at the Cote d'Azur Airport shortly, though anyone unfamiliar with the stoic young man would have had no inkling. He'd grown no more fond of air travel in general but at least the trip had not been plagued by the interruptions that so often appeared in the life he shared with the auburn haired woman in the seat beside him. He hadn't been entirely sure how interested Erin would be in attending the Grand Prix despite her developing skills as a mechanic. He'd originally had somewhat more elaborate plans in mind for their anniversary but after the events of the new year something more terrestrial had seemed to be in order. At the end of the day, however, one could do much worse than taking a few days off from their respectively hectic schedules to visit the Principality of Monaco. Something also appealed to him about a celebration that was by their standards fairly low key: the implication that there would be many more opportunities in the years to come. Rolling his stiff shoulders against a seat not designed with his tall frame in mind, he ensured his sunglasses had remained in place and looked over to Erin. "So far, so good?"

The Hunter Museum of Natural History Friday, May 3rd, 3:00 PM By any reasonable measure of teenage autonomy, it was way, way too late in the school day to be in a museum. But the strictures of homework said otherwise, which was why Eliza Oxum and her friend Trenice were looking over the displays at the Hunter Museum, trying to do research. "Don't know why you're choosing to pick bones," said Trenice as they passed through a hall on the native tribes of New Jersey. "We'd probably find more exciting stuff at the Freedom Museum." "We can hit there next," she said. "And there was stuff happening long before any of us came here. We just tend to forget about that. Guess that's kinda the point of picking the topic." That and, if worse comes to worse, I guess I can ask Dad to ask what this place was like at the time. "Don't understand why they want us here," said Trenice. "It's like they completely missed the Internet." "Guess they want something tangible." "Or antiques. Listen, the tribes ain't my thing. I'm gonna go poke around the Egyptian wing. That's more my style." "I'll see you there." Eliza kept her eyes on the exhibits, taking notes, while Trenice headed off into the depths of the museum. Perhaps both of them would find something interesting today...

GM Thursday 2nd May, around midday Liberty Park The man was old, probably in his sixties, yet in good health. He had a health mop of white hair and leathered, tanned skin. He was dressed in a Linen suit, and one could only guess he had been a handsome man in his youth - he still held on to some silvered good looks and an easy charming smile. "Hello young man" he said, approaching Marcus. "Mr..Irons, isn't it?" he asked, bowing slightly. "I am Doctor Lake. No, not a medical doctor.." he chuckled. "Just a humble student of history..." He mopped his brow with a handkerchief in the hot May sun. He wore a broad sun hat, but still, the sun was high in the sky. "Taken me a while to find you, Sir" he explained. "I thought I should bring something to your attention. I keep my eyes and ears open, you see, and I know more than a thing or two about the myths and occultism of the past. If I am not mistaken, you have a smack of that about you, am I right?"

Jupiter, Sol System, 3rd May 2013 1100 UTC With a flash of light and more exotic particles they appeared several kilometres from Jupiter and began to “swim†toward the Gas Giant. They had many names in the various languages of the Milky Way and its Global Clusters most of them related to their appearance to various large marine animals. The Lor tended to use a term that roughly correspond to the human term Leviathans. It was hard to tell their number it’s was in the hundred’s, being creatures as must plasma and magnetic fields as physical flesh some had already begun to merge there’s essences to produce new-borns. With the smallest being the size of a Lear Jet any one of them could be considered a threat yet there had never been a recorded attack by these gentle giants of the spaceways. No one was truly sure how intelligent they were they could be tamed and made to carry out tasks, but their minds were to vast to alien for any telepaths to get a reading. One thing that suggested some intelligence was the Jumping dreams that some telepath’s would receive a day or two before the majestic creature’s actually made their move, which could reveal the systems the creature’s would be there destination. Though majestic creatures they would have been of little interest of the various Interstellar powers except for one thing, they could at a instance travel billions of Parsec’s and always seeming to arrive where they wished. It seemed to take them vast amounts of energies and they rested for many months after the journey. A live tamed Leviathan would make a crew rich enough to support many generations. All of the great powers of the Galaxy banned such practices, even the Grue though there gigantic bio-ships were strangely similar, and tended to protect the creatures when they arrived. However the creatures had started to wander further beyond the border of these powers, displaced by war, to area beyond their control. However whilst their energies of their arrival were detectable over a Parsec away there Jumping dream’s allowed the various interstellar agencies to arrange protection of the creature’s when they arrived.

GM Claremont Academy, Freedom City April 14th, Sunday, 11.59AM Another crisp, breezy spring day in Freedom City was at its height. The sun shone weakly down through a thick bank of clouds that hadn't shown any sign of leaving since morning, a gentle sea breeze was rushing across the Bayview Hill, and Claremont Academy was its usual quiet self. The grounds were well-populated, dotted with the school's outlandish students taking a breather from learning how to be the heroes the world would need. Most students were either off-campus or enjoying the outdoors before the week started the next morning and they would be stuck inside once more. Koshiro McMillan and Kimber Storm were among them, the paper-manipulator and poltergeist sharing a rare stroll together on the path threading around Claremont's lawn. Everything was going very well, until the golden eagle landed with a thud on the path a few feet in front of them. Looking up at the pair, it got unsteadily to its feet, croaked and offered them a talon ringed by a thin band of silver holding a small scroll.

Monday, April 15th, 2013 7:32 PM The O'Neil Housing Projects were not exactly the finest place to stay in Freedom City. It wasn't like anyone expected anything better out of the Fens, but the place had one hell of a reputation - gang violence, break-ins, and a thriving drug trade. But it was also home to several people who really didn't have anywhere else to go, and who were trying their hardest to reach for something better. Cannonade knew of at least one of them. Darnell Franklin was a guy he knew down at the foundry. They weren't exactly the best of friends, but they'd shared a few lunches and talked about how the Comets were doing. When he didn't show up for work on Monday, he didn't really chalk it up to anything weird - probably just illness. But then Alex - who was friends with Darnell - had mentioned that his phone was going directly to voice mail. After he'd gotten off his shift, he'd decided it wouldn't hurt to stop by the O'Neil projects as part of his nightly patrol. When he got there, he found the place on complete lockdown. Cop cars were around the block, with a SWAT truck or two for variety. And it looked like some of the cops were making adjustments to the types of robots the bomb squad tended to use. Yeah. There's no way this can be good.

GM April 1st, 2013. 11.45 AM Bridge of the Grievance Heart, In orbit of the Far Side of the Moon The red-skinned creature in the squat chair was thin and almost overcome by the folds, swaths and shadows of its voluminous red/black cloak and long green robe. Lean as a rail and with a narrow face drawn tight over its malleable skull supported by a hand cushioned with a supple black glove, two green eyes blazing luminously. The room about ihm was dark and cold, ancient metal supporting a myriad of viewscreens that droned out endless reports in languages even older. The lights scattered around the floor and ceiling burned with a crystalline blue, giving the place a mysterious cast that Phantasmagore, Grue Arcane and master wizard, liked immensely. He stared at the viewscreen directly before the chair once held by some forgotten child of the stars, gazing thoughtfully at the warm blue and green and brown circle shining in the distance, and from it to the gray fields of rock and dust of the satellite kilometers away, from them to the glittering city of spires in the smooth crater. 'No reason to overplay myself' the Grue thought placidly, tapping a nearby button that sent a roar of power into the engines of the Grievance Heart, one-time superweapon of the Lor Imperial Armada, and propelled the enormous angular craft serenely towards Farside City! One hour later... "Attention, people of Earth!" thundered the voice from every loudspeaker in Freedom City, as the unmistakable face of a Grue appeared on every screen. Glaring out at his audience, Phantasmagore stood in the middle of a mystic light show, rearing up to his full height as the wizard's robe swirled in a mysterious breeze. Pointing a hand at the screen, the alien mage declared "I have the city on the Moon in the sights of hundred-kiloton cannons, a full plasma battery and a planet-cracking beam. I dare you to stop me before I reduce your precious satellite to a cloud of dust! And by the way..." an ironic smile appeared smoothly as his face grew a mouth "If I detect anyone from the Freedom League, I will not hesitate to take action. The very best of luck to you!" With a faint electronic whine, the signal hijacking ceased and his image vanished. Approximately ten minutes and an emergency conference later, the Freedom League had sent out a quick series of coded messages to AEGIS headquarters and Director Harry Powers, a dispatch to the star galleon Ages Lost, Johnny Rocket raced to the door of Henry Mason, and Jennifer Fray at FLSCH(Freedom League Special Circumstances Housing) received a very terse call. All of them were directed to the same point, almost 20,000 feet above the city and directly above Freedom Hall..

GM April 10th, 10.45 AM, 2013 Claremont Academy, Athletic Field "Yes I can do it!" the blue-skinned boy crossed his arms indignantly, glaring up at the semi-circle of curious students. It was the tail end of late morning jogging practice, the day was crisp and damp, and new student Morsa Ven was being pestered again. "C'mon, man, show us, it's okay." urged one of the girls, putting an arm around his shoulder that he quickly shrugged off as he stepped back. Morsa was quite short for his age, which didn't help with putting him at his ease. "I...it is not something I ought to do just for show. Only for serious emergencies." That got a chorus of disappointment from the other heroes-in-training, but also sparked wicked grins on a few of them. "Emergencies, you say?" asked one of the boys thoughtfully, who looked like a giant in miniature. Casually walking closer to the blue-skinned alien he offered cheerily "I bet we could make one for ya!" Morsa paled as he stared up "P-please-" "Aw man, I'm just jokin'!" the boy laughed, patting him on the back and wandering back onto the track "I know you can't really teleport that fast." "I can!" snapped the Lor, fear replaced with anger. The twenty-eyed girl who had tried to hug him raised several eyebrows "Then prove it. 'Less you're scared." The huddle's mood shifted. They now had an angle!

Calais, France Thursday, 24th April 2013 00:00 It was far too late and she should have been back in the hotel, but she was excited about travelling tomorrow. She had a couple of drinks and was in a good mood; no one had bothered her about her strange clothes and had allowed her to drink in peace. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of light and turning towards it she saw two women fighting in a alley both surrounded by glowing aura of light. Super here in Calais of all places! Against her better judgment she made her way over to see if she could in some way help. The younger of the two, a Moroccan girl barely out of her 20’s, had been knocked down to her knees as the other floated above her gloating. As she watched the young Moroccan girl looked up and she caught her eye. And she knew that the woman was Marianne, and least the part she was communicating with, and she was being attacked by someone called Gallia. And that this Marianne was in trouble and need somewhere to hide, not the woman she would be fine but the spirit. It didn’t take her a second for her decide and she agreed with a nod. And like that Marianne was inside her, and somehow she just knew things, but the one thing she knew she had to do was run. As she fled she had enough time to send a message of help, Marianne had sensed a familiar presence of an old friend, an impression of what just happened and one word of where they would be going...

Tuesday, April 2nd, 2013 11:23 PM Cannonade tread across the roofs of Southside, looking down on the streets below. He was looking for some sign that might lead him to the answer to the latest mystery in a city that never seemed to run out of them. Specifically, he was looking for an anachronism. He'd first learned about the issue at work, the week before. Harry, one of the long-time guys, had been talking about his brother. The guy had been working at a construction company that had gone bankrupt, and had spent months looking for a new job without finding much luck. Joe knew that well - his dad was busting his butt just trying to keep all the guys on the crew. But Harry's brother had called him about finding a new job, one that wasn't inside his usual skill set but which would pay well. He'd been gone two weeks, with his wife not hearing one word from him. But she had received something through her mail slot - a sack full of coins. Gold coins. He'd done some digging, checking over news articles on missing persons cases. Over the past three months, there'd been a few cases where the person who'd disappeared had been jobless, and had been so for a while. Not many articles mentioned if they'd taken employment before their disappearance, but the families had received items in the mail - a jade statue, for instance, or a box of rubies. Valuable things from people who had no idea how modern currency worked. Cannonade knew he wasn't the detecting type; he was more willing to throw himself into the fray and beat a problem until it went away. He'd checked the case files on the missing persons, finally finding a detective who was willing to bring in a hero. They'd let it slip that there was a detail in one of the disappearances that wasn't mentioned in the press - the man's daughter had heard the clopping of hooves on asphalt, and woken to see a carriage outside her house. She'd gone back to bed, thinking it was a dream. And now, Cannonade locked his eyes on the streets below, hoping for one hell of an unlikely sight, and hoping it might help him find where these people had vanished to.

GM Hanover Zoo Jerry Jones was a short, ugly man. And he knew it. He hit five foot six and then proceeded to grow outwards, in belly. His hair was lank and thin, and his face was wrong, somehow. He wore a permanent frown. Somehow, he still got along with his fellow zookeepers well enough. But they saw him as a distant, solitary, and sad man. I..was born for more than this...he would tell himself every day as he dutifully did his rounds of the zoo. Somehow, children seemed to cheer him up when they squealed at the animals. He often took it upon himself to help them and explain to them about the exhibits. ... The tall, elderly man with piercing eyes entered the zoo quietly, and caught Jerrie's eye. Both seemed to recognise each other, but perhaps on an intuitive level rather than conscious one. The tall old man turned away and strutted into the reptile house...

Saturday, April 6th 11:32 AM Cannonade usually wouldn't have been in costume and about town this early on a Saturday. But he, like the rest of the Liberty League, had been on high alert the last few days. There'd been a number of suspicious thefts in the Freedom area over the last few days, and if the pattern held up, odds were the thieves weren't going to take a day off. Midnight had been the first to notice the pattern. On Thursday night, at around 3 AM, several items went missing from the Harcourt family vault at Eastern Seaboard Bank. They could tell the time because the disappearance of the items had set off the motion detectors and pressure sensitive plates in the vault - even though the thieves had not. There was no sign of breach, no sign of forced entry, and no sign of electronic subversion of the vault's countermeasures. Then, around midnight on Friday, someone had done a smash-and-grab on the Valert mansion in the North End and had stolen several antiques from the family's private collection. Two thefts that might, by themselves, be either coincidences or the sign of a particularly brave gang of robbers. But the Valerts had a reputation for considering private acquisitions the family hobby. Their collection was rumored to consist of pieces that might better belong in a national museum - bits of Greek architecture, Renaissance painting... and paraphernalia from the homes of Hitler's inner circle. Likewise, the Harcourts had a black sheep in their family tree - Roland Harcourt, who it was rumored had made a bank securing Nazi funds in American institutions. Some of which he might have actually kept. So it appeared that somebody was going about stealing Nazi assets - or, worst case scenario, relics. Which was why Cannonade was on patrol in Midtown, keeping his eyes locked on the Super Museum. Midnight had been able to narrow down a few "avenues of interest" for the robbers to strike at, potential assets that the thieves might strike at - private collections, arcane libraries, and so forth. The Museum was hosting another retrospective on the heroes of WWII, this time focusing on some of the artifacts belonging to the Reich's own superpowered operatives. There was little chance anything was going to go down in the light of day, but he'd volunteered to keep an eye on Downtown. And hey, nothing wrong with spending more time at the Super Museum. "Nothing big so far," he said into his communicator. "Anything on your ends?"

Thursday, May 3, 2012 Cambridge, England 7:20 AM (BST: British Summer Time) Megan Howell closed her eyes as the warm water of the shower washed over her. The twenty year old was in the house owned by her current boyfriend, Robert Harrow, who was finishing his graduate work at the University of Cambridge. Megan was nearing the end of a year studying economics at Cambridge as part of a study abroad program through her school back in the States, Yale University. Though she had her own apartment near the university, since the end of the Christmas holidays Megan had generally been spending more nights at Robert's than at her own place. Of course, spending so much time with Robert had made it more difficult for the young woman to be out as Velocity, but she did what she could to get out in costume at least a couple of times a week, even if it was not for more than an hour or so (which was still enough time for her to get out to the European continent and to deal with some situation if she wanted). Those outings had been the source of some tension, as Robert at times questioned the reasons she gave for being unreachable if he happened to try to contact her while she was out. But thus far Megan had been able to defuse most of that and had generally tried to time her outings for when she knew Robert was busy and thus far less likely to try to get in touch with her. The young blonde had a fair bit of experience (not that she wanted it) with the problems her superheroing could place on her relationships, particularly romantic ones. The need to lie and keep secrets had caused tension in a number of her past relationships, but Megan had yet to really figure out when, if ever, was the right time to tell someone she was with about her dual life. But she was starting to wonder if perhaps it might be time to tell Robert the truth. The nearly seven months since she had begun dating Robert ,not long after Megan had arrived at Cambridge, was very nearly the longest relationship Megan had ever had. In some ways, the entire relationship with Robert was still somewhat unreal to Megan, particularly given how they had first met, more than two years before she had come to study at Cambridge. It had been during the summer after Megan's senior year in high school, when she and a couple of friends took a European vacation before they started at their respected colleges in the fall. Part of that trip included a several day stop in Ibiza, where Megan had celebrated her eighteenth birthday. It had been that night that she and Robert had met at one of the clubs on the island, before they ended up going back to Megan's hotel room together. That prior night together actually was a part of the reason Megan had not yet told Robert about her powers or her life as Velocity. There was a part of her which worried that for Robert, their relationship now was nothing more than a tryst he knew would end when she went back to the States to finish her undergraduate degree back at Yale. Overall, Megan was starting to feel this was less and less likely, but it was still a fear in the back of her mind. The blonde young woman's anxiety over the possibility was not helped by the fact that Robert had been somewhat quiet about any thoughts he might have on the future of their relationship after she did return to the States. Turning off the water, the Megan stepped out into the steam filled room, taking a nearby towel to dry herself off. The young blonde still had tan lines from the recent vacation she and Robert had taken to the Maldives over the Easter holiday. The trip had been very relaxing, allowing her and Robert to just spend time together with little else to distract them. For her part, Megan had been able to get through the tip without feeling a need to use her powers, though she had gone out as Velocity the very first night after they had returned from the trip. Wrapping her towel around herself, Megan took another to dry her hair some as she looked into the foggy mirror. Even if Robert wanted their relationship to continue after the end of the academic year, there was still the fact that she would be returning to the United States to finish her last year at Yale. While Robert would be done at Cambridge next month, his father had been ill recently, and the young man would likely be needed to help in running his family's holdings, meaning any continued relationship would need to be a long distance one for at least a year or so. Getting her hair about as dry as she could for the moment, Megan looked at her reflection in the mirror for a few more moments before turning to make her way out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom.

Tona Baudin awoke with a jerk. She was high up in a tree, nestled in between two branches, and tied to a third by a tough rope. She was dressed in as rough-spun tunic, leather pants, and high boots with pointed toes. There was a recurve bow and a quiver of arrows hanging from a branch. There was no Claremont dorm in sight, no buildings or other people at all in fact, because becasusr because because she had never been at Claremont in the first place. A world that had wounded, and later destroyed, Omega? And they had wanted her to come and help them? It was a laughable idea, though it had been a good fantasy while it lasted. The Day of Wrath should have clued her in; the sensible side of her had been trying to tell the rest of her that she didn't fit in that world, but like a fool she had resisted. So her dream turned against her and became horrible. Tona grabbed her bow and quiver and slipped down the tree, crouching in the bracken at the base of it and peering around intently. She was back where she belonged, but where were all the people?

GM El Heraldo was flying. That in and of itself wasn't too odd, bur he was flying high enough in the air that all he could see were clouds. A moment later he flew out of the cloud bank, looked down, and realized he was miles above the ground, and moving fast! All he could see below him was a lonely line of highway paralleling a ribbon of coastline. A quick fly-by confirmed that he was heading south -- and in South Carolina! Why in the world would he be flying so high and so fast due south? because because because He had been sitting with Cerys in the common room in the dorms, theoretically studying but in fact cuddling like, well, like a couple of teenagers. The big TV had been on and tuned to CNN, but it wasn't he heard "attack on the Caribbean islands," that he paid it any attention. Frightening images of troops in strange armor marching out of the accompanied running commentary on "a surprise Atlantean invasion of the Caribbean, under the claim of eminent domain." A particularly chilling moment was a native reporter, his face streaked with smoke, huddling in a building and speaking about "the siege of San Juan." Which wad why El Heraldo, the Herald of Victory and defender of Puerto Rico, was heading home.

GM Samantha Vance knew what the inside of police stations looked like. The institutional wallpaper, the thin, colorless carpet, and the fluorescent lighting that seemed to flicker just at the edge of perception -- this was a police station waiting room straight out of the catalog. And Sam was sitting here because because because because some AEGIS agents had come to Claremont to collect her. She was used to dealing with authority figures, but this time she was off her game because they were so darned polite. They had politely collected her, and politely driven her downtown, and politely put her in this waiting room. Now they were reentering with a uniformed police officer and politely escorting her deeper into the building. The whole situation was creepy, like the moments in a slasher movie before the hillbilly family reveals that they're cannibals. They came to an elevator and went down, below the lobby and into the basements and sub-basements. They came out in a chilly corridor and Sam was politely herded towards a pair of swinging metal doors. Through the door was more shining steel implements and tables, a man in surgical scrubs, and a shrouded form on a metal table. All of a sudden Sam realized she was standing in a morgue. The doctor looked at the police officer, who nodded back. He folded back the sheet, revealing a face that Sam knew all too well. After all it was the woman who had shared her name with the thief and enrolled her in Claremont. An AEGIS agent cleared his throat and spoke. "Ms. Vance," he said politely, "can you identify the deceased?"

GM Cerys Pfer stood before the sweating stone castle that had dominated her life before Claremont. The headquarters of Amddiffynnwr O Lleu Llaw Gyffes was still imposing, and now Cerys found herself called back here because because because she had received a letter from the head of the order. It had been full of code words and phrases, designed to defeat detection by whoever might read it besides Cerys, which really meant Headmaster Summers. The letter had talked about Cerys's 'sick cousin,' and how things were looking 'very grim' for the poor child, how the doctors were 'uniform in their opinion.' It was enough to get Cerys on a plane for Gatwick Airport without raising too much suspicion. Only the young ninja was aware that she was being recalled for a dangerous mission; that she would be briefed by a member of the ruling council; and that the mission would be against someone her own age, someone she knew. Now that she was here, the only thing to do was to find out who.

April 1, 2013 In downtown Freedom City, the shops about the base of Pyramid Plaza bustled with customers looking to make up for the day prior's holiday. The spring weather meant lighter jackets than the receding winter chill had necessitated but the light cloud cover kept the breeze cool as shopping bags were juggled and grumpy children coming down from an excess of cheap chocolate added to the general din of the street. That noise was abruptly overshadowed by a booming rumble in the skies above, the clouds directly over top the towering Plaza darkening into storm clouds without warning. Another peal of thunder sounded almost immediately, lightning flashing amidst the slate coloured sky, red-tinged and angry. A city all too familiar with the malicious exploits of Dr. Stratos and similar villains glanced upward warily, the more cautious among the shoppers already looking for the shelter of overhangs or awnings. Even they were surprised, however, when a streak of blindingly crimson lightning speared downward and struck the middle of the street, sending bits of pulverized pavement flying outward. There was just enough time for panicked screams to register as vehicles were abandoned and pedestrians fled backward from the manhole cover sized crater before another bolt struck the same spot, accompanied by another boom of thunder. The next bolt came more quickly, then another even sooner after, building to a column of white hot fury searing a red after-image into the vision of those brave or foolish enough to still be watching. Just as suddenly the barrage from on high stopped, nearby shopfronts still vibrating from the reverberating thunder. At the center of the cracked street and the circle of hastily vacated cars stood a young man looking inquisitively about with piercing grey eyes. Appearing no more than seventeen, he had a slim, well defined build amply displayed by his lack of shirt and a skirt of overlapping white cloth bordered with red. Simple sandals adorned his feet while ornate gold armlets stood out against flawless skin bronzed from the sun and thick dreadlocks of deep red hair. Black markings framing his eyes completed the look of someone who had just stepped out an Ancient Egypt exhibit at the nearby Hunter Museum. Placing his hands on his hips, the figure offered the stunned crowd a broad, self-assured grin. "Hail, mortal realm!" he greeted them resoundingly, a note of laughter in his voice as he threw his arms up into the air. "Tis good to be back!"

Tuesday, February 19, 2013 Claremont Academy Evening Evening. The end of another long day at Claremont Academy, surely the oddest school in the world. For Tona Baudin, the day had been full of learning, and exercise, and honing her mind and body into a singular, powerful machine. Many of the students had unusual powers of one kind or another and they focused on using them instead of their own physical talents, but all Tona had were her body and her skills. She kept herself in top form, because there was no other way for her to compete with her fellow students, and Tona was far too competitive to be anything but the best. And this day had been another success, one well earned and fought for, and Tona was ready to go to bed. She had showered and taken care of other matters in the floor's communal bathroom, and now she was standing outside the door to her dorm room. Hesitating. Inside was her roommate, Cerys Pefr, one od the few girls in the school who could understand just how hard Tona worked, and why. One of the few who Tona considered a friend -- except for that day almost a month ago, when a Curator drone masquerading as Tona had tried to kill Cerys, and a lot of other people. Now the air between them was tense, strained, and Tona had no idea had to fix things. But she couldn't stand outside the door for much longer without an RA coming over and asking questions and making things a thousand times more embarrassing. So Tona opened the door and stepped through. She kept her eyes firmly fixed on her bed and grunted a greeting to Cerys.

A demon walk into a bar... What you’ve heard that one? How about a demon looking like Linda Hamilton walk into a bar... El espinazo del diablo, US Route 491 (formerly 666), New Mexico (The Navajo Nation) Whilst the Route had been renamed for over a decade, and road improvement had reduced the number of accidents, the route had never lost its sheen as the Devil’s Highway. And after a hard day on the road they tended to congregate at the the roadside bar called El Espinazo del Diablo, the Devil’s Backbone. During the day it was a quite roadside bar with the occasional visit from tourists out to visit many of the breathtaking scenery of this part of New Mexico, during the night it was a much more rowdy place and fight were quite common. Whilst Axel “Grease†Robinson, and old friend of Carmen’s father, had retired from the biker gang’s he did still like hanging out in these sort of places. His Auto Shop was doing well to the point he’d had to take on an assistant, bemoaning why modern Car’s had so much electronics, a young Navajo woman by the name of Rachael Ironhorse. Ironhorse wasn’t her real name but she insisted that everyone called her that. She wasn’t into biker culture, though she did own her own hog, and was currently nurse an orange juice whilst doing something fiddly on her cell. “Well that’s ain’t something you see everyday.†Axel spoke in his gruff voice, causing the two women to look up. Walking into the bar was a woman and not a biker of any stripe, she looked more like a tourists. “Look exactly like that chick from those movie’s, you know the one with the robot from the future.†It was true but Carmen’s accursed stick was also telling her that this woman was more than a look alike, she was an infernal creature of some sort. The “woman†bought herself a beer and sat in one of the booths laying out a large map of the area, only to be accosted by two bikers in Gas Chugger color trying to work out if she was prey or a good night’s fun. The Gas Chugger’s might not be the friendliest of gangs, they’d often classed with her father’s old gang, but even they didn’t deserve the fate the demon might have for them.