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Chris could barely think straight enough to pilot the Pitchoo, let alone do it one-armed. His mind flooded with voices taunting and sniping at him, the ship began spiraling down out of the sky. He fell to the floor, being tossed around the interior like a cheap ball in a neighbourhood game of basketball.

Until he clanged his head hard off the coffee machine. Hell, no. He wasn't letting some overgrown tentacled freak of nature get him down. He was going to stand up, and help kick this thing's ass. And then he was going to get some aspirin, because that hurt.

At the last second, he hit the buttons on the console, and one of the doors burst open just as the ship hit the ground. The Pitchoo was catapulted back up into the air as blasts of white-hot lightning began raining down upon the monstrosity. "I hate the smell of tuna!" he declared, as he dove clean out of the ship in a shower of Geckorangs, dodging the tentacle swiping his ship down and into a fresh crater in the concrete.

"Well, this is ending well," he muttered to himself, as he plummeted down towards the core of the monster, hurling boomerangs as fast as he could with one arm as he went.

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With an unspoken word, Dynamo knew his role in this battle. He was to maintain the perimeter. He was the only one fast enough to do it as Fulcrum was busy going toe to toe with whatever it was they were fighting. As the battle continued, and one terrible transformation after another took place, this horror released untold plauges on the city. Some directly attacked the Interceptors, but hundreds more tried to stream into the streets and spread their madness. Dynamo could not allow that.

That proved easier said than done. Dynamo got a rather vicious lash across his arm when he rounded a corner and unexpectedly ran into one of those briar trees. Getting close wasn't really an option, even if he did get within arms reach of them, what was he going to do? Punch the spiky thing? Not the most optimal strategy. Luckily there was a gas station, several bucket stand ins, and a few road flares nearby. Trees now "safely" on fire, Dynamo could focus on the next horror.

That turned about to be horror not seen since the days of Kafka. Seeing one of them bite right through a street lamp, and then the lamp beginning to rust at a rapid rate, Dynamo quickly summarized that this was another sort of creature not to be touched. Grabbing a fire axe from a nearby apartment building, Dynamo once again set to work. He circled the block what must have been a hundred times, hacking away at anything that didn't look human, being careful to dodge their blood, it would be just his luck that its acidic. He couldn't keep this pace up however. By the time the frog men showed up, Dynamo was cut and bleeding from who knows how many wounds, on his third or fourth axe, and sucking wind. He was standing in the intersection, as the frog men closed ranks around him. He didn't have the energy to keep running, but he caught their attention well enough to merit a dog pile before they set siege to the city.

Broken and discarded weapons at his feet, Dynamo tried desperately to come up with a plan, but he came to a revelation: Sometimes all you can do is draw your weapon, say "screw it", and see what happens.

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Whatever Grim's original plan was, it was quickly lost in the wall of madness that throbbed out of the mountain of twisted flesh they faced; how strange that the faerie nature that she so often mistrusted would be the key to the shapeshifter not losing her mind?

No, it can't end like this, with all of us his mad puppets!

Lynn took a deep breath and let the glamour flow out of her body, surrounding her petite frame with swirling motes of light as she took on a truly unearthly appearance; but unlike poor Viktor, Grim was now a source of warm, loving calm. When she spoke, her voice was like a soothing stream of water flooding through the fevered minds of her teammates.

"Be not afraid, nor troubled nor lost; you are all Warriors of Light. The Darkness will not not touch you, nor consume nor taint you. You shall remain separate from the Dark, and where your weapons strike, the Light shall spring forth."

When the minds of her friends were clear, Grimalkin focused on helping them fight the Beast; heedless of the potential harm to herself, she shrank down to pixie size and began to whip around the column of flesh, tearing deep into the odious mass with her diamond-sharp claws. sadly it soon became clear that the injuries began to heal as soon as they were dealt, and foul abominations boiled out the wounds before they closed. Grim cried out in frustration when she saw Thrude fall and redoubled her efforts; to slow the slithering, gibbering, shivering horrors, she dropped several brick walls, forming a labyrinth to thwart their progress. Where she saw civilians in peril, she either flew them clear or made them swords and clubs to better defend themselves. And where her brothers and sisters in arms struck, she created rock salt, garlic, silver, vinegar and any other traditional charm she could think of to hurl into the gaps in the flesh, anything that might cause the injuries to fester.

"Why...won't...you...die?!"

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The Interceptors fought valiantly against the unspeakable foe, despite the less than impressive impact their assaults seemed to have. The great beast seemed tougher and to be healing even faster once it had fed on Thrude, leading some to wonder what it might gain if it fed on any of them.

And then, a strange thing happened: every television set and radio within two blocks of the monster (those that still worked, anyway) lit up, just long enough for Dragonfly to scream an invective, just before a massive, rippling beam like god's own wrath cut down through the atmosphere and cleaved Dokthulhu nearly in twain. Torrents of ichors and organs flooded the streets and choked the gutters as a cacophony of screams and shrieks filled the night air.

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But that which is eternal cannot die. The two halves of the great beast had barely hit the ground when they began rejoining, limbs sprouting out from the interiors to pulls the thing that should not be back together. The thing was almost halfway back together when is paused and shuddered, and small wisps of light and smoke pulled away from it. The wisps drifted towards another hero who had come to the scene, the psychobilly necromancer Nick Cimitiere, who had been working to exorcise the spirits of the dead Archevilles which made up the thing's form. Mercifully, this slowed its horrible regenerative abilities, though it did not stop it -- now living tentacles of horribly warped flesh and plant matter lashed out to one another to finish pulling the beast closed.

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Just before the thing restored itself, a mass -- a man-sized tumor, it appeared -- was pushed up out of it, which rolled down the beast's side and struck the ground. It bulged and stretched before splitting open, assorted ichors spilling forth, and out of it slowly wriggled a naked, slime-covered Viktor Archeville. He tried to breathe, to scream, but instead coughed up more gunk, his new body convulsing as it used its muscles for the first time. "Mo... Mooonaaa!" He turned, looked up, shielding his new eyes from the flashes of battle, and survey the scene, and his gear-less state. "I have to... there must be something I can..."

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The massive figure of fire and force field worked to keep the great monster's attention from the other heroes, moving with surprising speed despite the thundering echoes of its footsteps. The blazing sword came crashing down over and over, blocked here by unnatural energies and rendered ineffective there by rapid regeneration of terrible, unliving flesh. Even still, the simulacrum fought on, the siblings within its chest glowing brightly with metamagi power, eyes shining as excess power leaked away. The power of the Jack of Swords and the Jack of Coins had never been meant to be used in this way, never been designed to work together, and with each moment Jack and Jill risked burning out, their own abilities leaving them charred cinders.

And they tired. The graceful movements slowed and became forced, the wreath of flames flickered and dimmed. But when Dragonfly's voice resounded through the battlefield and light struck down from the heaven like a righteous smiting, it washed over the massive fighter. The sister's resolved redoubled and the brother's abilities leeched some of the beam's power into the body and blade of their construct, flames bursting forth again, white hot. As Acherville himself was expelled, the titan straightened and spoke. "Mamma said knock you out." And the battle was rejoined.

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"I have to... there must be something I can..."

For a few seconds, Grim was frozen in place as she looked down at what, she wasn't sure; was it really Viktor? He seemed so small, like he was somehow diminished; not physically, but more like the spotlight that normally shined on him was dimmed. She felt tears well up in her eyes, but her emotions were too confused for her to know the source. The shapeshifter staggered for a moment and muttered a few words, barely audible above the chaos that still reigned.

"Keep fighting....we need to keep fighting..."

And with that, she threw herself back into the fray.

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Even delivering titanic blow after titanic blow, the giantess could fight on for hours. Whether her health and sanity lasted that long, well, that was another story entirely. Acid splashes, flesh-eating microbes, tentacles lashing out from every direction, those attacks took their toll. True, she shrugged many of them off, and healed quickly, but she knew they were in a race against time to contain or destroy this thing. If she went down, or Jack and Jill, then the others would be overwhelmed by the main mass. Willow, Dynamo, Colt...thankfully Grim helped keep their heads clear!

Bloodied but unbowed, Fulcrum had just enough time catch and deflect Geckoman away from the main mass when her vision blurred white. She looked up and croaked out, "Oh sh...," before the tremendous blast engulfed her. Thankfully the beam only caught her sidelong, but the force still threw her clear of ground zero as the beast literally cooked under the maser's radiation. On the bright side, she bowled over one side of Frogmen surrounding Dynamo.

Laying there flash-cooked on one side, Fulcrum witnessed the rebirth of Viktor. Certainly, this being could well be a trap, but nonetheless she was there next to him before he took a breath. Cradling him in her arms, she answered, "I'm here, Viktor. I'm here."

Much more slowly than normal she flew his limp form from the rolling chaos. She only had moments before she must return to the battle, but in those moments perhaps she could ferry him to safety. As they cleared the battles raging below, she considered what to do with him, and what new strategy to pursue. He wasn't in any condition to make decisions or work wonders.

Wonders...

Landing next to bus stop, she turned his head toward her and barked, "Viktor! Viktor, listen to me. I need a daka crystal." Shaking him gently to focus his attention, she repeated her demand, "Viktor, daka crystal now. I know you kept that one for the lab. Where. Is. It?"

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"Mona!," he exclaimed, looking up at her with dimmed eyes. There was something very 'off' about him, beyond the shock one would normally expect to experience under these horrific conditions. She realized his 'spark,' the thing that made him so superhumanly -- well, inhumanly might be better, in light of all that'd recently happened -- good at both science and so devilishly charming was gone. He clutched at her with unsure hands, "Mona... Mona, I am so sorry! All of this... all the deaths... " he said, tears welling up, "all my fault! I tried to stop it -- I really, really tried -- but it was... I was..."

His attention refocused to her question, "crystal? The one when we first... I... I have kept it with me... in my Belt... its hyperconductive properties were off the scale, and it was tuned to be particularly good at meson/graviton inversions," he rambled, "so I had been using it... and... wanted to keep it close to me... a piece of you... wait, no, my Belt!" He looked down at himself and realized for the first time his condition, "I'm naked! Wait -- the Belt was part of the Armor, and most of that burst off when I - when It," he nodded towards the great tentacle-beast, "the pieces should still be... around... "

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Quickly scanning the battlefield, Mona did indeed see pieces of the armor Viktor wore when he was not himself -- a boot here, a section of gauntlet there. And there, just under a section of the beast that looked like plant roots burrowing into the earth, was the red glow of a Terminus energy-charged Daka crystal set in Archeville's Belt.

"Mona? Mona, why do you want it? It would just weaken you as... as... " While his mind was greatly diminished, Archeville was far from dumb, and he realized what had to have been on his lover's mind, and his eyes widened in horror. "Mona, no! If it absorbs too much of your energy, or if you crack it, the release of energies... it may be more than just a massive explosion, it might tear a hole in the dimensional fabric, straight to the Terminus!"

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Colt groaned as he shoved a piece of wall off of himself. He tried standing, but it became clear all too quickly that his left leg was in no condition to comply. One look at the twisted limb told him that it would be all but useless for the rest of the fight. He dared not think about whether he'd be able to walk on it again after the fight. After all, if they didn't win, no one on earth would be doing much walking. Thankfully, the pain in his ruined extremity had already overloaded his nerves, rendering the leg completely numb.

Colt switched on his radio, to tell the Interceptors he might be out of commission. Before he could relay the message, he heard another come over the communication band,

"I'm naked! Wait -- the Belt was part of the Armor, and most of that burst off when I - when It," he nodded towards the great tentacle-beast, "the pieces should still be... around... "

Colt reached a shaking hand past a nearby piece of debris and his hand closed around his rifle.

"Mona? Mona, why do you want it? It would just weaken you as... as... " While his mind was greatly diminished, Archeville was far from dumb, and he realized what had to have been on his lover's mind, and his eyes widened in horror. "Mona, no! If it absorbs too much of your energy, or if you crack it, the release of energies... it may be more than just a massive explosion, it might tear a hole in the dimensional fabric, straight to the Terminus!"

Rifle shot after rifle shot echoed through chaotic war strewn air. Piece after piece of the abomination that laid atop the armored belt in question was torn away savagely until the armor was exposed enough that it could be reached. Colt's voice echoed over Mona's radio, "Reckon' that's 'bout all'a th'help I c'n offer ya from'ere." Colt cleared his throat, and willed the pain out of his voice, "An' I'm sorry, Doc. But we gotta play th'cards we're dealt'n life. If'n there's even th'slight'st chance't we c'n end this, we gotta take't. 'Fer there's non'a us left. After all, we're Interceptors. Savin' this here city's what we do." He fired one last rifle shot to clear some of the rapidly regenerating tissue away from the armored belt and the hidden Daka Crystal, "Mona, y'all should b'able t'grab th'crystal, now. I ain't sure how long them bullet's'll keep't from comin' back. Y'all better hurry up a'for..." In the distance, one of the beast's massive tentacles came crashing down on a section of ruined house. Dust and debris sprayed everywhere, and static replaced Colt's voice on the radio.

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Geckoman suddenly landed on the pavement next to Colt with a sickening thud. His whole body, from his head to his one arm to both his legs, was covered in slimy, stinking ichor, and his costume was lashed open in several places revealing oozing, disgusting welts.

"The things I saw in there..." he said with a far away expression. "The tastes... the sights... that must be what Sicily is like..." He sat up and shook his head. "Anyway, this thing hasn't been giving me a very good day thus far." He pulled out a detonator from his belt, and clicked it, a huge plume of smoke suddenly erupting from one of the thing's... orifices. "So. Do we have a plan here?"

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Mona's face softened. Pulling her cape off, she wrapped it around Viktor and sat him down on the bench. Kneeling in front of him, she held his hand and hugged him, saying "I'm here, sweetie."

As much it agonized her to see him in such a state, now was not the time to dwell on guilt or suffering. Something about him keeping the crystal with him, a piece of herself, warmed her heart momentarily. She looked him over and gently wiped the slime from his face even as he spoke. Not that her gore-encrusted hand was much better. An assumed I know passed between the two as she gazed into his eyes.

A look of hope past over Mona's face for the first time since the beginning of the battle. Colt, eagle-eyed as ever, not only located the piece but cleared the road. That, indeed, was what friends and team mates were for! She started to reply over the com when the rumble of the tentacle and sudden static told her everything she needed to know. "Colt!"

Turning back to Viktor, she clutched both his hands in hers and spoke, her voice grim, "I have to do my duty now, Viktor. I love you, and I forgive you. Not because I love you, but because you are a good, responsible man. Be strong for me." She kissed him passionately.

She took off a moment later, zooming her way to the belt in the blink of an eye. The beast knew her plan. Tentacles lashed out from all directions and unstable portals. Something she never imagined happened then. She picked up the unshielded crystal, icy agony shooting through her veins. Flipping on her comlink, she broadcasted, "We do have a plan! Everyone evacuate the area now! Get as far away as you can. Geck, save Colt. Everyone else grab survivors and run. Now!"

With that she flew up above the beast, the daka hidden inside her clinched fist. Even at this distance, the Interceptors could see that red aura pouring off her seemed drawn into the crystal. Dodging maws, tentacles, and swarms of unknown horrors, she gritted her teeth and channeled every once of her strength. Her energy output spiked exponentially, and every drop soaked into the daka until its red glow was visible through her hand. Her face turned ashen and haggard. A great maw as deep as the beast itself opened beneath her.

Calmly the crystal shattered under her grip. An eerie silence fell over the rolling chaos. A translucent explosion, a red sphere, sprang forth engulfing the heroine and horror from beyond. It hovered dream-like only to implode in the deafening roar of a hurricane. For a brief second, the surviving Interceptors witnessed the silhouette of a blood-red sky and the detritus of a million worlds. Then as quickly as it appeared, the apparition vanished into the void, leaving only the echoes of a thousand inhuman screams.

They were gone, and North Bay was quiet.

~fin~

continued in ArchEvil: Aftermath

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