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Invasion! - Danger Mansion (IC)


Cyroa

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Under normal conditions, Phantom could cast her magic with a look, direct her spells with will alone. Now, her hands traced patterns in the air while she rasped words to give the magic oomph. Time had lost all meaning, as she found herself locked in the deadly steps.

Counter, turn, dodge, cast, counter...

When she found herself caught by the tattered remains of her cloak, she shrugged out of it and hoped that the demon would be brought down by arrow or bolt or flower. Even a bloody rock. A thousand times she was tempted to blast away at the horde, as the heroes fell, but she was the only one able to counter the spells so she lifted her hands once more to turn aside the swelling power of the horde only to have her concentration broken by Stesha's frightened wail.

Automatically her gaze shifted to Dark Star and then down to the dwindling group below. She didn't pause to see if Dark Star went after Stesha, but part of her - the part that was still entirely Taylor Chun hoped he did.

Phantom turned her back on yet another fallen comrade and floated down to the ever shrinking ring of heroes. Her leg buckled as she landed. Phantom limped over on a leg that was reknitting too slowly, to where Ace and Avenger held their flank.

Not because it was a strong position, or because it made tactical sense, but because behind her mask her eyes burned with tears she refused to shed. Because her arms were weary, and her heart was heavy. Because this was where she wanted to be when the world ended.

She fell in behind Avenger, shadowing his movements and taking up a place that allowed her to protect the few civilians that still stood.

'Heshem... Heshem, please. Let it be enough. Please, let us hold long enough.'

Phantom lifted her eyes to the blood red sky once more, her hands raised up as if in supplication as she stopped the infernal magic with every scrap of strength she still possessed. Her voice was very soft as she pronounced the Arabic words. Not a spell, nor prayer, but a poem written almost a hundred years ago. The liquid beauty of Gibran's Song of Man seemed both appropriate and comforting somehow.

"I was here from the moment of the/ Beginning, and here I am still. And/ I shall remain here until the end of the world, for there is no/ Ending to my grief-striken being."

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Colt fired repeatedly from atop one of the many defensive barricades throughout the yard. He had been repeating the process of firing and falling back, firing and falling back.

Colt was many things, but he was not a praying man. Even still, today he said a prayer for every bullet he fired, and every friend he saw consumed. Hoping, praying, that they would make it out alive, that he would see them again.

As they approached the final barricade, Colt once more found himself standing atop it, holding the line with his bullets while he waited for others to fall back to his position. While he fired his rifle out into the open field, he was suddenly blind sided by one of the flying demons. The creature raked its fell claws across his back and for a moment Colt's vision went red. He stumbled forward along the barrier, but was able to turn fast enough to see another creature flying straight for him. He turn on his boot, and put his weight into the motion, bringing the but of his rifle down on the creature's avian like beak as it flew in for the strike. The creature shuddered and turned to dust just after the strike connected. But Colt had no time for rejoicing.

Again from behind him, another of the infernal fliers dove at him, in an attempt to bring down the man who was proving to be one of the most difficult to access members of the resistance. The creature caught him on the back of the leg and Colt stuttered. His blood sprayed across the barrier as he yelped in pain. Marlin flew from his fingertips and clattered across the ground, by the grace of god behind the barrier. For a brief moment, Colt remarked that maybe all those prayers had done something. But then his thought process was once again interrupted.

A fourth creature swooped down on him. Weaponless, Colt attempted to fend it off with his arm. This time, instead of slicing through his flesh, the creature latched on to his left arm. Its grip was like a vice, and Colt screamed as it began to air lift him away, to god knows what ill fate.

The cowboy was not out of the fight yet. "Oh no you don't, partner. Ain't nobody makin' off with me." Colt reached down to his side and drew Jericho out of its holster. The gun had been in his possession for years and had not once failed him in a fight. Its cool metal gleamed in what fading sunlight was left as he lifted it high in the air, cocking the hammer as he swung the weapon up, up, up, right into the neck of the beast. "Say yer prayers, partner."

*BLAM*

Colt sailed downward through the air, landing on the edge of the barricade on his wounded leg. "Ahh!" Searing pain shot through him, and his leg gave out. He stumbled off the barrier and rolled. As he came to a stop, his shoulder crashed into something long hard and wooden. As he laid his hand upon it, he knew exactly what it was even though he could not see it. Rising to his knees and putting his weight onto his good leg, he swung his foreign rifle back up into position even as he holstered Jericho.

Kneeling behind the barrier where the heros were making their stand, the bloodied colt was quite a sight. He now concentrated on the arial threat above them that threatened to undermine their defensive location. Shot after shot, prayer after prayer, demon after disintegrating demon. Colt's bullets flew through the air, destroying anything they bit into.

Reckon I should be readin' that bible more...

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Dark Star had been focused on his task. It was simple enough when you broke it down. When the demons started pouring over people, send the demons flying en-mass. Otherwise, blast the big demons. Simple, direct. And given how Phantom kept nullifying their powers, there was little if any real threat to him. But to the others, the civilians, his friends...his love.

Her voice, he could pick out of a crowd of hundred. Or in this case, the scream of a battlefield filled with thousands. He'd been a staunch defender of strangers, putting himself before any threat to save even a single life. Here his only purpose was to protect everyone. But when he hear her scream, all those thoughts fled. There was no guardian, there was no hero. There was only Stesha in mortal peril. "NO!"

Without thought, he left Phantom's side and rocketed down to Stesha amid the demons. He summoned every scrap of power, every jule of energy he possessed, and built it up into one massive point...

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" His voice echoed with power as he released all his energy at once, holding nothing back for himself. A visible wave of gravitic force rippled outward, leaving the people, the heroes untouched. But it hit every demon like a truck, flinging them, pushing them before that wave. Baring a few of the very large demons, the wave cleared the area around the survivors and kept going. The wave continue, pushing demons away and away. It didn't stop. Somewhere out of sight, over three and a half miles away, the wave petered out. Behind was a massive empty space. There were still demons there, those too powerful for the wave to move. But the heroes were now only facing a few dozen (admittedly the most powerful of the demons), rather than the limitless hordes. Until they ran back that is.

Beside Stesha, Dark Star's dark form was fading, becoming translucent. He had kept no energy for himself, not even enough to hold his form together. With a fading hand, he reached to brush Stesha's face. A mere millimeter away from touching and he was gone...

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Save one life. Save one soul. Do one thing that makes your life worth what you've done. Still on his feet against all odds, Avenger saw Stesha fall beneath a torrent of demon flesh, and then saw Dark Star's sudden, shocking sacrifice as his gentle friend tore himself apart in one last desperate gesture to save the life of the woman he loved. It was an all-too-familiar moment. And then, right then, Avenger knew where he was going to make his stand. Much as he wanted to stay with Taylor, he had to die where it would mean something. Where it would save one life, where it would keep one person living and breathing. In Dark Star's heroic sacrifice, he'd seen just how important his own desires really were. "Taylor! There's a hole in the line over there!" he called, turning and running. He landed before Stesha's fallen frame, extending a challenge to the recovering horde as he bounded protectively past her, putting himself between Stesha and the demons.

"COME AND GET ME!"

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The demonic horde had colided with thier paltry defense but the line held. Shouting orders and encouragement Ace led his band of survivors into the breach. The demons fell upon them with cruel claws and fel intent. Many were wounded some fell before the infernal onslaught, but many stayed thanks to the timely interventions of Dark Star and Phantom. Ace himself took the brunt of hte assault, with the hoard all around there wasn't the room he needed to manuever and many demonic weapons found thier mark. Ace however had seen worse, granted not much worse but worse none the less, and remained standing bloodied, battered, and grinning maniacly. There was no time Ace felt more alive then facing certain death and he continued to fight with ferocity out of keeping from his normally genteel persona.

Steshas scream barely registered among the tumult but he heard Dark Stars response and new what it meant. When Dark Stars energy wave washed over him he was shocked to find himself free of the hoard if only for a moment quickly reforming his fellow inot a defensive line as Jack sprinted to Steshas crumpled form. As the Vampire Lord began taunting the remaining demons Ace boggled, 'Why wasn't he bringing her behind the lines?' But there wasn't time for such questions he ordered his men to plug the hole and charged to the unconcious heroins side, gently lifting her and running as best he could for the relitive safety of the defensive line. Dark Star had bought them a few precious moments and he would see to it it wasn't for naught. He didn't even spare a backwards glance for Jacks crazed last stand as he rushed Stesha into the depths of the manor, past the Death Vine, and into the hidden chamber where his Mankana still grew.

Brushing aside cuttings and tool alike he laid her on the moist and fertile soil beside the plant. Without a thought for the priceless shrubs well being he focussed the rooms assorted aparatus upon her recumbant form bringing every ounce of sunlight that could be fished from the skies to bear on the greiviously injured heroine.

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Half a dozen still standing by Phantom's count, and all of those gravely wounded, she stopped countering as the demons were crushed before Dark Star's final and rather fatal wrath. As Ace vanished back into the mansion with Stesha, Phantom stopped by the group of valiant citizens - at least those who were still remaining.

"Follow Ace inside. Brace the door and bar the windows. We'll hold them as long as we can."

She glanced around at the other heroes that still stood on unsteady legs and inclined her head in respect. There wasn't anything to say, really. The demons would be back, likely with reinforcements. And in the meanwhile, they had a good dozen burly brutes that would be a hard fight, even if they were all in peak condition. Phantom couldn't even remember what peak condition felt like. She closed her eyes, focusing the last reserves of her power to teleport out to Avenger.

"You have lost your mind completely." Phantom announced in a rasping mutter even as she stepped in to guard his back from the demons he had rather successfully taunted. She scrunched her shoulders up, fists balled tightly under the glow of energy in her hands. "Utterly and completely. At least I can blast something again.

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One large demon, who had dug its claws into the ground to keep form being blown away, reared up, glad to take the vampire lord's challenge. It towered over the assembled heroes. IT threw it's crested head back and released a powerful roar, that cut into a pained scream as it clamp it's hand on its neck. Black ichor poured down its shoulder as All-Star jammed a massive piece of the creature's own broken off horn into it's neck.

The youth was a grisly sight. Horrific gouges criss-crossed his skin, and he blood seeped from large punctures, left by teeth. Black blood stained every unmarred inch of skin. It congelad on his arms and clotted in his hair. One of his eyes was complete shut. His wide grin was made monstrous by a jagged tear in his lower lip. He gave a wild scream as he tired to jam the horn deeper.

He was snatched out of the air by a taloned hand, and slammed hard enough into the ground to make the earth tremble. Before he could think to struggle, a massive fist engulfed his upper body hammering him into the ground. The immense pressure squeezed the air of of his chest, but he could not open his mouth to scream. Then it stopped. All-Star opened his good eye to see the demon raising its massive fist again. It seemed to take forever to fall. A scaled appendage the size of small car. It hammered into him again. Somewhere in his body something popped.

When he opened his eye his was being lifted into the air. He had blacked out. His body was strangely numb. THe demon reared back and hurled All-Star at the mansion. He collided with a tremendous thwack and and bounced off. Landing in a heap. Right in front of Razorwing.

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Stesha was barely conscious as Ace carried her into the manor, colors and shapes blurring senselessly in front of her eyes as every part of her body simultaneously tried to inform her brain of how bad things were. She could remember what she'd seen outside, but it was all a jumble still, sensations and images that slipped away as she tried to grab them. It would be so much easier to just let go and fall into the welcoming darkness, but for some reason she couldn't let herself do that. She still had a job to do, something... Suddenly she wasn't moving anymore, she was laying on the ground, someplace she'd been before.

She blinked hard a few times as a bright light shone down into her face and another one focused on her ravaged body. It felt good, distantly good, as though she could fall asleep here and wake up and be all better, if she could just sleep long enough. But there wasn't time. Why? Because something bad was happening outside, of course, something horrible. Stesha closed her eyes and tried to remember, and nearly fell back into that darkness by accident. Before she went, though, she heard a familiar wordless whisper. It was strange enough to catch her attention. She focused her attention on it, for all that her eyes were still closed, her body lax. It was the mankana plant, at Ace's house. Of course, how could she forget? It wanted to help her. That was so nice of it. She could feel that it was in trouble, but she was in trouble too. That was sad for both of them. Everyone was in bad trouble, the plant knew that as well as she did. It was important for her to get better, so she could help. That made a lot of sense to her.

On the outside, Stesha closed her eyes and did not move for long moments after Ace set her down in the dirt next to the plants. Her hair greened under the lights that mercilessly showed off every bruise and gash, but nothing seemed to be getting better. Then suddenly the leaves of the mankana plant began to droop, then wither entirely. First the small new leaves on top began to dry like paper and fall off, then the broader, lower leaves as well. Stesha took a deep breath as color came back to her face and some of the bruises suddenly began to fade. Her eyes opened, and she looked around for a moment before focusing on Ace. For a moment she seemed confused, then memory came flooding back, along with grief. "Oh god, Derrick," she murmured, her eyes filling.

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Atlas was fairing slightly better than the others, but that was a contest where there were no winners. His arms and hands were so torn up, he hadn't been able to make a fist for nearly 5 minutes now. He had just been wind-milling his arms, bludgeoning anything within arm's reach with wild swipes. He hadn't noticed anything going on around him. All knew was that every time he swung his arms nearly 30 demons died, only to be replaced by about 300 more, give or take a few thousand. He was beginning to wonder if there was going to ever be any end to them when -

:kaboom:

That moment shook Atlas out of his stupor. In the momentary silence that followed he saw fully the destruction that had been caused, and how many good friends had fallen. But beyond even that he heard the cries of the citizens still in the manor, and that gave him the strength to fight on. Bones were mended, muscles were knit and flesh was made whole. On the outside, he looked nearly as good as new, nearly.

I have to make zis count. I can not fail. Atlas roared with renewed vigor and charged one of the large demons in the courtyard. He leapt onto the mammoth creature's knee and delivered a vicious haymaker, shattering the creature's joint. When the creature crumpled to the ground, Atlas buried his arms into its brain matter. Wielding his latest kill like a morning star, Atlas joined the other heroes in removing the larger demons from the courtyard.

His grisly task done for now, Atlas retook his place at the front. "Comrades, it has been an honor." said Atlas to the remaining heroes as the renewed Horde barreled down upon them.

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Yes, Fulcrum had lost herself in the roar of battle. Throwing all of that raw horror back at the demons gave her confidence. Confidence and that annihilating drive shielded her from the worst of the feelings. One negative emotion remained. Even as endless claws and teeth and limbs tore at her flesh, her only real enemy lingered in the shadow at the edge of her red-tainted consciousness. That feeling was regret.

Regret for failing her family, her friends and her city. Regret at not coordinating better with the other heroes. Regret for not picking up that cargo container to swing at the demons. Even somehow, although unaware consciously, regret for not hearing the death cries of the other defenders. The inhuman darkness tightened around her, close enough that she smell their fetid breath, and she most regretted not training to fight groups. She fought like Centurion, and Centurion favored single, powerful foes.

Hundreds of fliers swarmed her, latching onto her with claw and tooth and tail and tentacle, massing into a ball dozens deep trying to drag her down. Almost in unison, wings ceased, and only augmented strength kept them aloft. At the very least, she had drawn many fliers away from the lines.

Suddenly a scream echoed through the noise. She couldn't or wouldn't register the intent, but the power behind it was undeniable. The demons reacted, distracted for mere second, and Fulcrum struck. Twisting her body around, she tried to whip free of their holds and tore loose. That they took whole chunks of tissue didn't even register. A hole opened in their ranks, and then she saw it.

As Dark Star's final assault blasted the small demons away, Fulcrum hovered there in stillness. Before her the fleet scattered and one of Hell's flying generals appeared. It crunched down on those unfortunate demons blown too close. The Hellspawned dragon, all black scales and skeletal skull, dipped and weaved serpent-like as it approached. Acrid black smoke puffed from its nostrils, and licks of fire blazed in its empty sockets. A magnificent specimen. A worthy foe.

In that moment, something changed inside her. Physically she was gapping wounds and seeping blood. Her costume clung to her in shreds, only Centurion's cape holding together with any real coherence. Broken bones ground together as she balled her fists. Blood poured, then trickled, from a skull-deep laceration across her forehead. Her eyes though registered the real change. The last fear was burned away in this crucible of evil. Never again would she feel it, and in that moment she was free and unfettered.

The dragon burbled and twisted its way forward, jaws open, but Fulcrum struck first. From hover she vanished in a blur. The dragon reared back in pain as its skull face split and fractured. Arm embedded in its upper jaw, the dying hero was pulled along. The accompanying roar couldn't be deciphered clearly as the dragon's or her own. But in her mind, the blazing eyes burning through her belonged to something else.

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The hoards were endless. Colt kept firing. He came to know nothing more than "Aim, Fire, Reload, Repeat." Then, suddenly, it was as if everything stopped. As if a giant explosion had just gone off. There was a hole in the demon ranks, and through it, Colt saw the fading Dark Star. "No." Colt whispered, desperation filling his voice. "What have you..."

And then he saw All-Star. Always the first one into the fight, the super human was giving his all by murderously tearing at the larger demons that remained. After he gouged out a demon's throat with its own horn, Colt was elated. But then as the battle turned for All-Star he was horrified.

Moments later, All-Star went flying across the battlefield. From up close, Colt thought the demon looked rather smug at how far he'd sent All-Star. Though the pain in his leg was immense and it had taken him precious long seconds to limp here, Colt would make the demon eat that expression.

The demon finally noticed Colt standing without weapons drawn about fifty feet in front of it. Its beady little black eyes came to rest upon him, it tore the horn out of its throat, and blood poured down its neck. That didn't seem to bother the demon, though, its deadly smile only widened. Colt simply stared it down from beneath his cowboy hat. For a moment there was silence. Silence from the two combatants, silence from the battlefield, silence from the onlookers. Then the demon moved its arm to launch the horn at Colt, but Colt was faster, and the horn never left its hand. In a flash, he drew the pistol from its holster at his side, and fired the entire eight round clip directly into the hole in the creatures neck left by All-Star's heroic efforts.

The demon tumbled and fell, leaving colt spinning the gun around his finger. He blew the smoke from the barrel before setting it back in its holster.

Colt never saw the next hit, or what had delivered it. His intense concentration on the demon in front of him had distracted him from everything else. He sailed across the battlefield and ground to a halt right in front of the main line of defenders. His head swam as he pulled himself to his feet. Once there, his vision actually failed him for a moment, but it flickered back a second later. Shaking the near unconsciousness from his head he drew his rifle once more. He looked around at the other heroes beside him.

"Reckon this's been a good day, if'n all'a us're still standin'. What'a y'all say we finish this?" And Colt slapped the chamber on the rifle closed, cocking it into position once more.

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"Marry me," said Jack, speaking through Avenger's mask in the moment of calm before the storm. His words were pure emotion and raw impulse, a moment of sheer, perfect humanity amid the grim horrors of the day. The ones he'd inflicted, and the ones he'd seen. He dropped the grim visage, looking at her. "When we get out of this. Marry me, Taylor Chun." He met her eyes. "I love you. And I mean it."

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She'd been watching the horde on the horizon, her chin tilted slightly up and her eyes still faintly a glow from the dregs of the power in her bruised face. Without her cloak, Jack had a clear view of her profile and was easily able to see her eyes widen before she whipped around to look at him so abruptly that she almost tripped herself. Her hand ghosted through his arm and she muttered something under her breath as she tried to gather her scattered wits enough to reform her body into something that could interact with the world.

"You're asking me now?" Taylor waved her hands at the demons closing in, a thick black line on the horizon, "We're about to ripped limb from limb - for the second time today - and you're proposing?"

Taylor finally managed to find the right reality and she gripped his arms with her leather gloved hands. She searched his eyes, her expressions shifting rapidly benath her mask, fear, shock, adrenaline. There had been so much death, so much despair. Finally her lips quirked and she tilted her face up to him. Her cheek dimpled under the mask in a way that it hadn't since the nightmare had begun, "You lunatic. Yes. But we have to survive this first."

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Jack gave her a smile that was half-predator and all male, his teeth showing. He was frankly much more frightened of this than any fight to the death, but for all that wouldn't have dreamed of pulling away. "Love and death can never die," he assured her, a moment before he bent down and kissed her passionately on the lips, his arms going around her in one long embrace. "Whatever happens today, Taylor, this isn't the end for any of us. It's only the beginning." He released her then, facing the monsters side by side with her.

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Arrowhawk was out of arrows, out of luck, and out of hope. He whirled the twin sabers in an overhead thrust that split a snarling goat-headed thing in twain, whirling out of the attack with both arms spread, scything down two more. Armour cracked in places and with blood pooling out of it, another rent was torn as one monster lunged under his defence and lashed out with sword-like claws.

He growled an incoherent cry of anger at it, and decapitated it, spinning on one foot to kick an attacker coming up behind him, lashing off its limbs before ducking another strike. He was backed up to the mansion door by the demons who slipped past the defensive line. "Wasn't the point of the line to stop them getting back here?" he sighed, before darting forwards to meet the assault. Claws flashed and were sliced off as retaliation, fanged maws had their bite removed by the stomp of a heavy boot and tails were grabbed to pull their owners onto a swordtip.

Arrowhawk retreated back, even more bloody and with only one saber. His bad leg was stiff and screaming at him from the sheer agony of his wounds. And still more came. "I'm going to Hell anyway. Want a taste of what it'll end up like for you lot?" he shouted, eyes blazing. "Well, here it is!" He went forth again, sword whirling.

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With the removal of the endless horde, at least for the moment, it hadn’t been hard for the heroes to team up and dispatch the majority of those larger demons left behind. They certainly weren’t expecting to be left alone. Strangely those demonic bodies didn’t dissipate as the others had previously. For those in the know, it could only mean that this was their home plane now, or soon would be. Here they would simply heal (with time), reform, and keep coming. It was not a pleasant thought, just one more for the pile.

And other depressing thought became evident now that the horde was gone. All those heroes who had fallen and died, save the one who had no body, were still out on the field. Their bodies were easy to see, laying bloody and broken upon the field of battle. It was yet another reminder of where the heroes would be soon enough. There was no hope. This was the final stand. Final as in terminal for this is where they would die.

Despite that, it didn’t stop some from making connections and caring for one another. It was just a rather depressing backdrop.

Sooner enough, over the endless black and red horizon, the survivors could see the horde approaching once more. They had been ejected from the area by several miles so it would take a little time for them to return. But the horde was eating up the distance quite fast. Running, crawling, bounding, slithering and flying all as if they were one creature, all in perfect unison, all projecting that wave of fear, terror, depression and hopelessness.

In another few moments, the horde would be upon them and this time there would be no reprieve. It was the end. For those with last words to say, now was the time.

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Left. Right. Left. Uppercut. Fulcrum was having trouble with her big one. When snapping its jaws didn't work, the dragon tried to claw her to death. That didn't work either; the stubborn woman flailed her legs and started kicking out teeth. Finally the great beast shook its head wildly, dislodged her and roared in triumph. Big mistake.

After rib kicking the wind out of it, Fulcrum went heavy bag on the freak's head. The charging bravado faded into a timid back petal as the dragon clawed ineffectually. She proceeded to rearrange its facial bones in a variety of grotesque and innovative ways while knocking its head from side-to-side. Finally the towel was thrown, and the dragon retreated with its little remaining strength. Of course Fulcrum was having none of that.

She latched onto the base of that thing's skull and squeezed for all she was worth. Crazed somersaults and rolls followed until the last of the monster's strength was sapped. Wings faltered and the two warriors tumbled to earth. Rock and splintered wood shot up from the crater. A crater that was uncomfortably close to the last barricades, but far enough to crush dead only the shrubbery.

Moments passed. Then the wet crack of bone echoed from the hole, and the dragon's head emerged over the edge. Quickly then it was tossed out, decapitated, and Fulcrum crawled out to lay on her back. A strange black aura seemed to seep from every pore. All she could do was lay there and laugh maniacally. And cough up blood.

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Ace nodded as he saw the color return to Steshas face and hardly spared a glance for the shrivling plant she drew her strength from. He was glad to see her recovered and gently took her hand as her eyes fluttered open. "You back?" he asked with care. "I don't have much time." He continued, "They'll need me out there again soon." It was true though the outcome would be little different if he was there or here but he knew where he belonged. "If you can, try and get to the safe rooms and get out who you can. Port from place to place and hopefully we'll break through sooner than later." He knew his haven was no such thing any longer. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before whirling to rush back to the front.

Once there he looked out to the distance where the horde once again had ammassed to wipe thier small resistance out then turned his gave to Freedoms devoted defenders. He couldn't say it wasn't a fitting end after all the years. As the line of demons began to close in he strode forward. He called to his fellow Heroes once more but no more flowery speaches just simple devoted truth. "LETS END THIS!"

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"Good luck," Stesha murmured, watching as Ace left, knowing she wouldn't see him again. She spent a few precious seconds wiping the tears out of her eyes before pushing herself to her feet, automatically brushing dirt from the tatters of her recently-new costume. Part of her wanted to go back outside, just so she didn't have to look at the faces of the people she had no idea whether she could save. But she was no good there, and the other part of her was terrified to step back into the fight. So she'd do what she could. Touching the dying mankana with her fingertips, she teleported to the flowers she'd grown in the safe room that morning, what felt like a lifetime ago now.

"All right, everyone," she said to the crowd of mostly children, struggling to keep her voice steady. "We need to go on a little trip now, to someplace safer than this." She gestured to the flower she'd stepped through and it opened wide, waiting to be walked into. "I know it's scary, but you need to be brave, and go as fast as you can. Everything will be all right." Even as she tried to offer reassurances, she couldn't help looking towards the window, watching death approach.

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Atlas' hands wouldn't stop shaking. Before now he thought he had known fear, and only now before the very end, did he really know how mistaken he was. When he was fighting side by side with the other heroes he felt as if he was invincible. With this many heroes working together, there was no way that they couldn't win. But now that he saw so many of them die around him, he realized his own mortality. This wasn't a war, this wasn't a battle, this wasn't even a fight. This was the fading heart beat of the world as we know it.

Right now, all Atlas could do was pray to every single divine entity he had ever heard of and even some he was making up on the spot that the children could win this. As Ace rallied the troops, Atlas put all his faith where it always should have been, with the future of Freedom City. "FOR FREEDOM!" roared Atlas as the demon horde began to crash into their lines again.

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For a little while, Grim thought switching back to her tiny pixie form would make her tougher to hit without diminishing the power of her attacks, and for a while the tactic seemed to be working; she zipped from foe to foe, her tiny claws as sharp as diamond, as gaping wounds weeping ichor blossomed seemingly out of nowhere on the faces and throats of her prey. But the horde quickly adapted to her new stratagem, and she found herself knocked back and forth like a shuttlecock in a hurricane; when she was finally smacked clear of the throng, she was actually thankful just to be alive for a few more minutes.

Because that was the reality that was setting in: no one was walking away from this one, and what really mattered most now was where you chose to fall when it was over. Head swimming as she wobbled through the air, she was finally able to make out the rugged outline of her boyfriend Colt, and she flew over to his side, landing gently beside him as she returned to her full height. It looks like her body is one big bruise, and she’s definitely favoring her left leg.

"Reckon this's been a good day, if'n all'a us're still standin'. What'a y'all say we finish this?"

Despite herself, the shapeshifter coughs out a laugh.

“Are you kidding? This day totally sucks!†She waves her hand as she doubles over with fatigue, trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry, I know you were being all cool and stoic, but I couldn’t help myself.â€

Grim sighs as she sidles up to Colt and takes his hand, her gaze falling upon the threat that would soon overtake them.

“Oh baby, I’m really sorry it’s ending this way; there’s so many things I wanted us to do together, including…well, the obvious.†She almost smiles as squeezes his hand, but then tears well up in her eyes. “Oh God, I don’t want to die today; why couldn’t we have one more day?â€

And then she’s praying, a prayer she’s muttered to herself from time to time, at temple or before bed when she was little, but never felt in her heart like she did today.

“Sh'ma Yis'ra'eil Adonai Eloheinu Adonai echad.

Barukh sheim k'vod malkhuto l'olam va'ed.

V'ahav'ta eit Adonai Elohekha b'khol l'vav'kha uv'khol naf'sh'kha uv'khol m'odekha.

V'hayu had'varim ha'eileh asher anokhi m'tzav'kha hayom al l'vavekha...â€

*(Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.

Blessed be the Name of His glorious kingdom for ever and ever.

And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.

And these words that I command you today shall be in your heart...)

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Geckoman stood, uniform wrecked and blood crusted over his entire body. Yet he somehow managed to remain upright, pressing a finger to the commlink in his ear. "Mark... Erin... Mike... Alex... Eddie... Zoe... well, this is it. They're making one last push, and I don't know if you can hear this. I don't think we're gonna make it, so if you can hear me... well, do you want some stupid 'I believe in you' speech? Cos that's totally not what I'm saying. I'm saying pull your goddamn fingers out. Darian's down, and I dunno if he's alive or if he's dead or what, and I'm terrifed and covered with blood and I dunno if my mom and dad made it, or what happened to Liz... God, I don't want to consider it. Anyway, this is probably it, and you likely can't hear me, so yeah. I'll see you guys around somewhere, hope it's warm." He somehow produced a spare pair of undamaged goggles from his pocket and pulled them on. "BRING IT!" he shouted at the approaching horde.

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Despite herself, the shapeshifter coughs out a laugh.

“Are you kidding? This day totally sucks!†She waves her hand as she doubles over with fatigue, trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry, I know you were being all cool and stoic, but I couldn’t help myself.â€

"An' I wouldn'a had it ruined by anyone else." He smiled brightly at her. Despite his downtrodden and bloodied appearance, Grim could feel his determination when he took her hand. Either this was one crazy cow-poke, or maybe he had seen a few more things in his own dimension that they had not. Either way, it was clear he wasn't ready to back down just yet.

Colt waited for her prayer to finish. "Well, don't you worry, baby." He pulled Jericho out of the holster on his right leg with his free hand. "I ain't givin' up on us just yet." He leaned in and kissed her.

Suddenly, in the middle of the kiss, Grim was startle by gunshot only a few feet away. Opening her eyes, she saw Colt's arm extended, and a nearby demon that had apparently been running straight for them fall to it's knees. One of Colt's bullets was buried in it's skull.

"An' I reckon y'all can't keep me from bein' cool, neither." he said with that same cocky smile spread across his face.

Holding Grim's hand tight, Colt turned to look out across the battlefield, preparing himself for what was to come.

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Grim melts a little during the kiss (she actually gets a little gooey around the edges, but thankfully not in the mouth area), but when Colt shoots one of the demons dead while still locked in said kiss, Grim's eyes go wide with wonder.

"An' I reckon y'all can't keep me from bein' cool, neither."

Shaking her head in proud disbelief, she twists the tension out of her neck as the rents in her leathers heal themselves with wisps of mist; the injuries below remain as painful as ever, but she wants to look her best fighting at the side of her man. A bit of her old pluck returns to her voice when she speaks through grinning bruised lips.

"You are so getting lucky on the off-chance we survive this, cowboy."

Dropping into an agressive crouch, she flicks out her claws and smiles evilly at his side.

"You drop 'em, and I'll finish 'em off. I love you, Colt." :twisted:

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"You drop 'em, and I'll finish 'em off.

"You got it!" Colt slipped a few more bullets into his gun and snapped it closed...

I love you, Colt." :twisted:

...And then gawked at her. "Well don't go sayin' it like this is good bye! That's just plain depressing!" Colt snapped his mouth shut and looked at her for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity. He wanted to remember her. No matter what happened. "I love you too, Grim." And without another word, he charged towards the demon horde that was massing in front of them, guns blazing.

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