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September 24, 2011

11:15 PM

Nick Cimitiere tended to the main hall of the Parkhurst. He knew full well the ghosts would've been happy to help, but he'd decided to give them the night off. They were back in their quarters, passing the time, while he waited for some sort of miracle. He took a look over the Parkhurst - it was still hard to believe that, six months ago, it was effectively abandoned. The ghosts had kept it in order, but it was still a husk, soaked through with the essence of tragedy. Now it had become a formidable center for magical thought. The workshops were fully functional, the dimensional portal hadn't yielded up anything hideous yet, and the scrying crystals mostly stayed on target. It was a tribute to what could happen if a bunch of like-minded mystics put their mind to something. He hoped tonight would have similar results.

It had been four days since the Gorgon had appeared in the skies above Freedom, issuing its dread ultimatum. In the time since then, Freedom City had fallen into panic, and it had taken most of his strength for Nick not to follow with them. In his line of work, he was familiar with multiple apocalypse scenarios - molten steel drowning the earth to burn the wicked, giant wolves eating the sun, and other such cheery scenarios. For all of them, though, he'd never heard of the possibility of the earth ending in stone.

Bet Frost is kicking himself for not thinking of that one, he thought to himself as he finished up preparations in the main hall. He'd borrowed a few pastries from the Black Petal's freezer; the rioting hadn't spread to Riverside yet, and the store had stayed open, wanting to remain loyal to its customers during the "brief emergency." That was the Freedom City way - stand defiant in the face of angry gods. It had worked against Omega, against the Grue, against Hades...

He just had to hope it would work this time. He took his seat, and waited for the others to arrive.

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Equinox strode in the door, features drawn and gaunt-looking, with huge haggard black rings under her eyes. Her flowing black hair looked more disheveled than usual, parts of the fringe slightly singed. Her coat was a little muddy and dusty in places, and the pentacle around her neck was dented and misshapen.

Her magical aura, to those who could sense such things, was visibly sparking and flashing with barely contained energy, suffusing the air with the aroma of a blustery autumn day around a bonfire, sounding like the smell of wood smoke and smelling like the crackle of a fire being whipped up by strong winds. To those who couldn't sense such things, the usual white glow of excess magic burning in her eyes was even brighter than normal, and flickering significantly, causing the raccoon perched on the witch's shoulder to flinch and look away from the shuddering lights.

"Hey, Nick," said Siobhan, voice drawn and a weary smile on her face as she sat down on the table. Hayley jumped off her shoulder and immediately began chewing on a pastry. "Ahem." Without pausing her frantic chewing, the critter put down her food, and tossed another pastry to her mistress. "Better."

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Bah, no taxi's cursed Rene outside his flat.

"One little apocalpyse which will almost certainly destroy all ze life on earth, and they all stop about their regular business" he complained to a man running past him.

Turning, he squinted and readjusted his spectacles. A group of a half dozen rioters - or looters - were chasing him. Sighing, Rene reached out with his mind to once again paint magic onto the world....

...a few moments later, after a few bolts of lightning and fire rained from the sky and scared off the mob, he drew out his magic paintbrush and pulled out a slightly crumpled photograph of Parkhurst he had taken. The wand danced over the picture, drawing a simulacrum of Rene on the picture.

And soon enough, Rene was in the picture...and then outside Parkhurst. He folded away the picture back into his waistcoat pocket. Even he didn't quite understand how that worked. He had an inclination that if he ever did, it wouldn't work.

"Terrible day for it" he snorted as he strolled in to see Nick and Equinox. "I had to walk all the way here! My hips are killing me. I'm a helpless old man, you know..." he muttered, before theatrically slumping in a chair with a face indicating to all who looked how much pain his hips were in from the long hike.

"Pastries, good. Hmmm, even in not French. Maybe some brandy from the cellar, to help ease ze aches and pains..." he grumbled.

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Phantom appeared with little fanfare and less noise, unfolding onto the doorstep and then ghosting through the door in the wake of the frenchman. If exhaustion showed on her face, it was hidden behind the fabric of her mask and the thick folds of her cloak. She did not, however, bother to solidify, instead choosing to hover out of the way of any further arrivals and remain as intangible and quiet as the Parkhurst ghosts.

"Do we know who else we're waiting on?" Phantom asked, sparing no breath for the polite niceties. Clearly her husband was rubbing off on her. Either that, or she simply didn't have the energy to spare for chit-chat. Perhaps a bit of both. She did, however, belatedly incline her head in greeting to the others in the room.

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Nick gave Phantom a polite nod. "Dead Head should be shambling in at some point," he said, "and Kid Cthulhu, too. Thought it'd be good to have an expert on the more squamous entities of the multiverse with us -- and another expert on necromancy can't hurt." He took a seat at one of the nearby tables. "In the meantime, I guess we could try and get started on ideas. That thing wants to turn the earth into amber because of the overwhelming presence of entropy - odds are it's talking about the flow of Terminus energies. Purging isn't an option - who knows what it could do to the Terminus babies - but maybe a masking spell... make it look like a purge has occurred..."

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"Sorry I's late, folks," the Southern zombie drawled as he emerged from the shadows, "but y'know how chatty them ghosts can get. 'Specially the ones what folks like only Nick an' I can 'ear."

He passed by the pastries without comment, and plopped down into an old wooden rocking chair, "An' that's a good idea ya got there, Nick... but has anythin' on that scale ever been attempted? I's far from an expert, sure, but, seems t'me, somethin' that big'd take a lot more hoodoo than what we all could muster up, if it could e'en be done at all." He rocked slowly back and forth in the chair, "I's thinkin' somethin' more direct -- like a Penitence Gaze."

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"Dead Head's right," nodded Siobhan through a mouthful of pastry. "And more problematically, say we did muster up enough energy... she still knows where Earth is, and who's to say that she's going to stop just because she can't sense entropic energy? We'd probably be too drained to even stop her after that."

She absent-mindedly kicked the leg of the table she was perched on, pausing a moment to swallow a large bite of food. "Sorry about that, I've had a rough couple of days. And I don't think a direct assault would work either. She dwarfs planets. We... distinctly don't. We don't even know enough about her to know if a Penitence Stare would work. Is there any way we could open a gate to a dead dimension, and banish her there?"

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"Well, I don't know about you folks, but I can't. Maybe you young folks can do such a thing? Sounds rather..daunting...or dare I say Impossible?"

Rene looked around. "Anyway, my hips still hurt, on account of me being a helpless old man..." he eyed everyone in the room to make sure they were quite aware that this was the case, and daring anyone to contradict him. "...and if it's the end of ze world I would like to have a glass of claret in my hand..."

"...it does strike me..." he added "...that in such dire circumstances, we may need some unpalatable allies. They are just as much invested in the saving of ze Earth as us. Samedi, Malador...even Hades? Or summoning something from beyond..."

He was actually pale from the thought. "I know, I know, but desperate times...desperate measures" he explained.

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Nick really wished that Rene would stop with the protestations; he'd seen the experienced sorcerer absolutely curb-stomp a horde of cultists and their bokor leader just a few months ago. But he kept his mouth shut. "Samedi and Hades would likely be our best bet," he said. "If we decide that that's the route to pursue. They're bastards, but they have something resembling standards and honor. Calling on something from beyond... their very presence colors the plane, throws the laws of physics out the window. If we don't have the proper bindings, we might as well just ask the Gorgon to get started early. At least that would be quick and painless.

"Now, a dead dimension... that might work. Such places exist. But we don't know what capabilities this thing is built with. For all we know, it knows this dimension like the back of its hand and can punch through the walls of space. Throwing it in a back pocket of the cosmos might just buy as a few hours -- and when it gets back, it'd be pissed off." He folded his hands. "Trying to brainwash it... maybe. But has anyone ever tried to control a... I'd hate to say it, but something as strong as a god?"

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Dead Head gave Rene such a look when he mentioned Hades and Malador and Samedi, and Things From Beyond, but a moment's consideration (and Nick's words) made him realize half of what the old Frenchman said wasn't that far-fetched. "If the Gorgon ain't killin' 'em, but puttin' 'em in some kinda stasis, that means no more death. Ever. Yeah, I reckon Hades & Samedi'd be opposed t'that. An' Malador ain't gonna rule a buncha statues..."

"But we ain't," the normally jovial revenant slammed his fist down on the arm of the chair, and the emerald flames in his eyes flared, "dealin' with nothin' From Beyond; the death they bring won't be quick, or painless."

He was quiet a moment as Nick went on discussing plans. "Shoot, if we's gonna send it somewhere, why not the Terminus itself?"

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Equinox raised a quizzical eyebrow at the current line of discussion. "Now, I'm not saying that it's a bad idea, but I do have to ask... why them?" She pushed herself up off the table. "There's the rest of the Loa, the other Greek deities," she put up a finger for each entity she listed. "The Helipolitans, hell, we might be able to get Horus to help. If we're casting her into another world, the Door Wardens. The angels. Lantern Jack. Atlantis. All these would likely help us and not then turn around and try to kill us." She sighed and leaned back on the table. "If we insist on riskier allies, how about the Sidhe and the Lemurians? We at least know we can stop them if they double-cross us."

<No faeries!> Hayley bounded up to the edge of the table and chittered aggressively.

"It was just a suggestion," the witch muttered to her familiar, stroking her head gently. "And again, not trying to sound pessimisitic, but the Terminus might be a bad idea. The risk, even if only a small one, of Omega allying with her would just mean she tries again, and wins this time." She looked up, struck by inspiration. "The Battle Brutes? She could fight them for eternity, and they'd never stop."

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"There's the rest of the Loa, the other Greek deities,The Helipolitans, hell, we might be able to get Horus to help. If we're casting her into another world, the Door Wardens. The angels. Lantern Jack. Atlantis. All these would likely help us and not then turn around and try to kill us." She sighed and leaned back on the table.

"Ze more, ze merrier" muttered Rene. "If we are talking about planet sized portals to other realms, or any other war with this thing, then the more allies we have, ze better. I find ze gods and dieties to impenetrable myself. They frighten me more than Malador, in some ways..."

The thing about Gods, he had concluded, was that they were Gods. They did pretty much what they wanted, for reasons that were often beyond fathom. He didn't even know what Gods were.

"And I understand ze horror of things from beyond" he nodded at Dead Head.

Like, say, the undead... he added to himself. He distrusted Necromancy. He had started his career a few centuries ago, burning down the mansion of Baron Necromme, the vile necromancer of the revolution. He had come to moderate his views, thanks to his association with Nick.

"and share your feelings on ze matter" he said "...no good comes of such meddling".

He took of his Beret, and reaching inside, pulled out a bottle of Claret and a wine glass. Neither could possibly have fitted in there, but he pulled them out anyway. Replacing his Beret, he poured himself a modest glass.

"To wash down ze pastry" he said, by way of explanation. "And, I am French. Feel free to have a glass..." he added.

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"Omega allyin' with 'er might not be the worst thing," Dead Head mused. "Worst thing might be if she won over Omega, crystallized the whole Terminus. That couldn't be good fer Reality."

"Battle Brutes?" Dead Head thought a moment; while he had been studying under both Phantom and Cimitiere, his knowledge of dimensional stuff was still extremely basic. "Oh, right, them fellers! Well... yeah, could work, if'n we could get 'er in there. But the problem remains of how we make a portal that big." He tapped his chin in thought, though -- perhaps due to the nature of the situation -- he did not do his typical 'jaw breaks off in his hand' bit. "Would... would it be easier t'summon some'a them Brutes into 'er? Let 'em tear stuff up inside 'er?"

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Kid Cthulhu teleported into the foyer of the old hotel, a glowing mystic sigil heralding his entrance. He threw the hood of his cloak over his head, and walked into the kitchen quickly. His tentacles were in constant motion, undulating and squicking as he walked.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late." The young eldritch sorcerer had a rather haggard expression on his face, or rather, he had one behind his facial tentacles. He took a seat at the table, removing the brooch of his robe and setting it down over the seat. "I have a few thoughts on this problem myself." he said, not wasting any time. "I don't think this creature is anything related to the Unspeakable One. It doesn't seem like his 'style', whatever that may be. I've kept watch on the pseudonatural activity over Freedom, and I haven't gotten any red flags recently."

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"So it's not something he'd toss back right away if it fell into his grasp," Nick said. "Then again, that thing's already an unspeakable engine of destruction the size of a planet. If the Unspeakable One gets to play with it..." He shuddered; there were just some ideas that no one should ever have to contemplate. "Now, the Battle Brutes might work for internal destruction. Summon the portal inside the Gorgon, keep it open and running, and have them overrun internal defenses. It'd be like an infection overrunning an immune system. Then again, we don't know how strong its internal defenses, and if that stasis-blocking goo gets into their dimension -- "

Nick's reverie was cut off when the lights - already dim for purposes of decor - went out entirely. The back-up power, barrow flames in old glass lamps - a contribution of Changeling - flared up, casting a pale blue light over the entire manor. Nick was up from the table almost instantly. "We've been breached," he said. "And by something powerful. Wards are down, and I can't hear the ghosts. In a situation like this, Joe and Millie would be down here instantly."

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Equinox calmly stood and eyes closed, raised her left hand into the air, turning it this way and that, fingers moving as if gently stroking something in the air. She opened her eyes once more, raised her wand up in her right hand, holding it and her left hand as if holding an invisible scabbard. "There's eight of them, in what I think is a lab. Four necrotheurges, four... well, it feels like general utility magic."

She whipped her right hand away sharply and the sound of steel sliding on steel filled the air as her wand was suddenly a sword, at once magical and shattering the magic from the air around it into a million shards. And then it caught fire. The witch lowered the flaming sword down to her side. "Let's go greet our guests, shall we?"

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Rene got to his feet, and put down his Claret. It was noteworthy that when he moved now, it was without any stiffness or slowness, and not peppered with complaints regarding his age. It was true he was old, but not invalid.

"Sacre Bleu!" he exclaimed, in a voice loud enough to be called a shout. "Ze swine! interrupting my wine!"

He looked at Equinox's sword with an arched eyebrow. "Violence tsk..." he muttered. "One moment..." he continued, drawing out his magic paintbrush and weaving in the air with his expert hands. Wafts of magic drifted from its tip, and embraced the conglomeration of arcane heroes. As it settled on them, they faded from view.

"Invisible ink!" said the now transparent Rene. "For ze battle ahead. Or even, maybe, we could spy on them and find out what they are doing!"

He chuckled.

"You know Equinox, sometimes ze pen is mightier than ze sword!"

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"I really, really don't think we-" Dead Head began at Kid Cthulhu's words when the sudden pitch darkness made him pause. The emerald flames in his eyes continued to shine, lending some minor illumination to the area, but given where that light was, it served to do little more than illuminate his skull. "Dang, it is quiet. too quiet. Mutt, whatcha got, boy?"

A sniffling, snuffling sound could be heard coming from next to the heroic revenant. "Smells... smells like... like those things that attacked three moons ago... the ones that smelled like the Interceptors."

"'Smelled like the Interceptors'? Oh, you mean them-" his face fell slack, "GRUE?! The heck are Grue doin' here?"

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Kid Cthulhu was on his feet, and he swept his grey cloak over his shoulders once more. "What's a guy got to do to get a few seconds to sit down..." he muttered to himself. A few quick gestures, and his hands were glowing with eldritch power. A small green sphere of phantasmal fire rested above his palms, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

"'Smelled like the Interceptors'? Oh, you mean them-" his face fell slack, "GRUE?! The heck are Grue doin' here?"

His eyebrows quirked, and he looked at the Revolting Revenant. "What? Grue? Those are the shapeshifting aliens, right?" Despite his outerworldly powers, Blake knew very little about alien species. "Have they got their hands on magic stuff, or something?

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"A little bit, yeah," Nick said. He was thinking back to the invasion, when they'd dropped a hideous behemoth out of the sky, a dozen Grue bodies and souls intertwined postmortem into an undead killing machine. "Then again, wouldn't be surprised if they always wanted to get their hands on more. What do you say we go teach them about proper hospitality?"

The halls of the mansion were somewhat treacherous to maneuver with the lights dimmed, but Nick had walked them enough times that he was able to lead the others along safely. Under the cover of Rene's illusion, they had little reason to worry about passing sentries - and in fact, the halls were empty. This was slightly more disturbing to Nick than the other option. It meant that the Grue had known where to strike.

The workshop had once been White Orchid's carriage house, and after that, the gym for the Parkhurst Hotel. All the rec equipment had been stripped out when the prior owners decided to immediately vacate, resulting in a large, empty space that was conducive to magical experiments. With the barriers down, there were few fail-safes -- or traps for Nick and company to set off. The bindings keeping any of the subjects from going haywire were still fairly intact; Nick breathed a sigh of relief, given how volatile some of the materials could be. He scanned the room, his eyes quickly falling on the intruders, who were working their way down from the western corner.

Four of them looked like standard Grue foot soldiers, the image of which had been seared into everyone's mind after the invasion in May of 2010. Their skin was bright red, and their breastplates bore the standard of the Grue Empire. But Nick wasn't familiar with Grue who bore tattoos - especially ones like these, which looked more like the brands he'd seen among ecstatic practitioners. Instead of the usual blasters, they carried silver rods in their hands, covered with scrawls and bindings.

Their compatriots were another matter entirely. Their skin was the pale red of weather-beaten brick, and their armor -- which covered more flesh than you'd think a shapeshifting race would allow for ease and convenience -- was pitch black. Their movement was slightly stiff and mechanical; Nick had a good idea that if he looked at them with his death sight, he'd be blinded.

"Revenant Grue," he whispered. "Here I thought I'd seen everything." He turned to the group. "Here's the plan: we set up position, break cover, and drive them back to the mothership crying. Sound good?"

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Phantom had gone quiet once the discussion of the entire 'let's contact creatures from beyond' had started up. It wasn't that time had mellowed the dimensional guardian, she'd simply learned that it was best to save her disagreements for when the plan coalesced into action. For the moment, it seemed, that discussion had been tabled in favor of a sudden attack.

"You'd think they'd be someplace far from Earth right about now," she mused idly, floating along at the back of the group. It was quiet, more to herself than anyone else. She gave a little shrug at the plan as if to say the details didn't matter over much to her. "I'll take 'from below'."

She made the offer and then started sinking into the solid ground below as if that was already settled. Very few people ever expected attacks to come from solid earth.

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"Makes sense," Dead Head mused as he studied the black-clad Grue, "seems most anythin' what was alive could become undead. What I heard them Lab folks say once, the Drones is more like robots than livin' critters anyway, so 't'wouldn't be hard to zombie-fy 'em. Don't see no reason why any sapient species couldn't have yer more free-willed types'a undead, neither."

"I's a bit more concerned 'bout what them wands do, though," he nodded towards the silvery rods held by the tattooed Grue. "Might jes' fire out bolts o' energy, might be somethin' nastier -- the more advanced Grue can read minds, so the wands may let 'em do mental tricks."

Phantom's comment received a remark, too. "Maybe the vultures decided to come a bit early."

"So, I's thinkin' I'll jes' saunter on up an' draw they fire, and let y'all mop up. Sound good?"

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Kid Cthulhu looked on in horror and slight revulsion, but he managed to keep from gasping.

"Jesus, and I thought I'd seen everything. So where can we set up positions? My powers aren't exactly very subtle, but maybe I can take out some of their psychic abilities. One of my psychically-based powers involves the removal of the subject's sanity...that ought to do the trick."

He bounced anxiously on his heels- it was clear he was ready for them not to be a threat anymore. He thought the Parkhurst Hotel was a safe place, but these Grue seemed to get in so easily, despite their precautions. In a sense, he didn't feel safe in the place they called a sanctuary. He looked at the more experienced mystics for guidance, although he was scared of the malign alien species being able to use the forces of magic.

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Equinox just smiled and rolled her sword in her hand. "I'm not particularly good with subtle magic, I can't disappear into the ground or mess with their heads." She grinned wider. "I'll take the position of 'walk up to them and set them on fire'. It's worked out for me so far, but if they're in the lab I'm going to have to limit how much I can throw down."

She drew up her will in her left hand, causing a broad white plate of force to settle itself there, crackling and hissing gently as she let the gradual stream of artillery-stopping power come to bear.

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"Not a bad idea," said Nick. "And seeing as I'm not exactly renowned for subtlety either..."

A bolt of unearthly blue flame formed in Nick's hands. Low, phantasmal moans rose from it, and the sensation of cold mist was rising from it. It flew from his hands, passing through the mystical illusion drawn up by Rene, and struck one of the Revenants in the side of the head. The unnatural fire flared over its crown, assailing its thoughts... but it turned to follow the direction of the blast, looking none the worse for ware.

"They are aware." An unnatural drone, like an echo in a cave, came with the Revenant's voice. "Their defenses are still down. Their ghosts are bound. They must be here, and hiding. Find them, and destroy them."

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