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September 26, 2011

The West End

9 AM

Things were in a bad way in the West End, what with the upcoming apocalypse. The Gorgon was only about thirty-six hours from making contact with the Earth, her silvery shape as clearly visible as Mars in the clear Freedom City night sky, promising a doom for all humanity should she get closer. The Freedom League was fighting the Gorgon and her train in space; the Lab crew had gone into the sky to unlock the scientific secrets of the monster coming to devour the Earth. (Sure, that wasn't technically her mission, but good luck telling that to the man walking down the street listening to apocalyptic street corner preachers pronouncing the imminent doom of man to all passersby.) There was a war in space, but a battle on the streets was imminent. Street-level heroes had been busy catching crooks and putting down disasters, but there were so many threats. The heroes of the West End had reason to be a little understaffed these days, anyway...The flashpoint came outside a local bodega near the Espadas home, when two uniforms from the local FCPD station came out to move one of those doomsaying street preachers off the streets.

This gentleman, though, a wide-eyed man with thick glasses and a "PRAY FOR MERCY" sandwich board hung around his neck, wasn't willing to give in. "What's the point of doing what you pigs say?" he demanded, his fear rallying the crowd of onlookers who'd been listening to his sermonizing (and, not incidentally, blocking the door of the San Domingo Market whose manager had called them in the first place) to shout at the cops. "We're all gonna die anyway! The supers have run off! They left us to rot down here on the streets while they ran away into space and into their fancy other dimensions. Don't we deserve the right to have a little happiness now before she takes us all!?!" he exclaimed, pointing to the sky as the crowd roared. Normally West Enders were a bit more skeptical than this, but nerves were fraying. "How dare these fatcat shopkeepers keep what they have when the end is coming. I say, let's take what we want and give them a taste of their own greed before we're all gone! Who's with me?"

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A loud clearing of a throat drew attention upward before the crowd had a chance to answer the raving man's questions. Atop the roof of the temporarily abandoned, one story convenience store nearby, its windows hastily boarded up, stood the recently diminished ranks of the Interceptors. At their fore, the royal blue clad Jack of all Blades leaned forward, one booted foot resting on the ledge around the rooftop. The perpetual stubble visible beneath his bandanna mask had gone a few days longer than normal without shaving, and was close to becoming a full on beard, while the way he held his posture made him look somehow older than normal. "Hi there."

"They went into space to fight the Gorgon," his sister, Jill O'Cure snapped irritably from his side, rubbing her masked face with one gloved hand, obviously tired even if the bags under her eyes were covered. "Who's in space. Technically there was rocket science involved, but I still think an 'a duh' is in order."

"Go home," Jack told the crowd, raising his voice so that it carried easily. "Be with your families. You're better than this. We're better than this."

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The reassuring words from the beloved duo seemed to calm the crowd, thus deflating the incipient riot that had been about to blossom. Whatever PR problems Jack and Jill might have with the rest of the city, this was their turf and these were their people, and there were no heroes with a better claim to being the champions of the West End than the Espadas siblings. But given the mood of the day, the crowd was still worrisome: while the match had been blown out, the gasoline was still there. From the crowd, though, someone (the press was too dense to tell who) did call out a question. "How do you know they're not just playing you, Jack?" came the cry, loud enough for everyone to hear. "What if they've sold out the heroes who care about the common man and left you here to die with the rest of us? Where are the rest of the Interceptors? Aren't there any heroes left who care about the people on the street?"

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Almost as if the words were a cue, a red, blue and gold figure descended from the sky in a graceful arc. "We all care," came the dulcet voice of Miss Americana as she touched down lightly on the crossbar of an awning. She gave the crowd a smile that was both tired and brave, then nodded a greeting and acknowledgment to the Interceptors. "Every hero on Earth is working hard, and a number are working off Earth as well, to end this threat. The heroes of Freedom City are not going to let you down," she promised, her voice ringing with simple conviction as it carried across the hushed crowd.

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A huge green craft rounded the corner, anti-grav thrusters humming along gently, the two gun turrets slung out from underneath it but the cannons folded upwards and clearly not aimed to fire. on the nose of the ship reclined a green-clad figure, a remote held lazily in one hand as it dangled down to the side.

"Yeah, we're not going to let the world get destroyed. We live here too, y'know. Why would we just abandon it?" agreed Geckoman, sipping from a mug of coffee which he held in his other hand. Keen observers would note that this meant that, in the event of a fight kicking off, he very blatantly didn't have a hand free with which to even throw a punch, let alone injure someone. "C'mon, people, this is Freedom City. It'll take more than some two-bit giant face in space to beat us, remember? We're all playing for the same team here."

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"Please, return to your homes."

The simple entreaty came from a tall, slender woman with coppery-skin and a wild ankle-length mane of white hair, and though her voice wasn't raised it carried clearly across the assembled crowd. Willow stood off to the side of the bodega in the alley between buildings, how long she had been standing there was anyone's guess but she abandoned that position to walk through the crowd (which parted to let her pass when they noted the coiled vines wrapped around her arm and neck.)

"Your Guardians are doing what they can; even so it would be wise to seek shelter. I ask again. Please, return to your homes and families."

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With the considerable turn-out of heroes, including the notably big league and camera friendly Miss Americana, the shouted claims of abandonment became increasingly unfounded. The mood of the crowd was still uncertain, fear feeding anger, but they were no longer a mob waiting to happen. Despite the instructions to return to their homes, many of the civilians simply milled about, looking lost. Either they had nowhere to return to or just didn't see the point. The bleakness was palpable as small groups gravitated toward Willow on the street and the base of the buildings the other heroes were perched atop, looking for some further guidance.

"Hey Stars," Jack called over to the patriotic paragon in tired greeting. "Thanks for the assist. We're a little short staffed lately."

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"Even so," Ferros' calm voice rolled over the heroes assembled on the rooftop, "The West End is nothing we can't handle, ya know?" He lowered himself on his flying disk passed Jack, Jill, and Miss Americana. When he passed Jack's eye-level, he added, "Sorry I'm late. Got the call in the middle of a trance. Proved a little more difficult than I thought it would to pull out."

Ferros lowered himself to passed the other heroes to the street level, "The others are right," He called to the citizens of Freedom City, "Now is the time to remain calm. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the people of the West End have always done their part to help out us heroes. Why stop now? Remaining calm is the best thing you can do, better for us to concentrate our efforts where they're really needed that way," He pointed toward the sky even as he finished speaking.

It truly is massive, Ferros spared only a glance at the world-ending threat in the sky. He was still new to being a hero, but he had to set an example! He needed to be confident and composed.

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"Way to show up, new guy," Jill drawled in a slow tone that was due to weariness as much as sardonic manner. The young woman slipped her feet over the ledge of the rooftop, sitting down and letting her legs dangle off of the side.

"He's here, it's fine," her brother responded, for once his jocular, baiting sense of humour subdued by the gravity of the situation. "We should get moving; more people see us out and about the better." Freedom City's less affluent communities had become powder kegs in the last few days, leaving the street level heroes to play damage control and provide a reminder that there was still hope to be had while their space-bound peers tackled the planet ending threat head-on.

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Miss Americana gave Jack and Jill a friendly wave, nodded to the others, then crouched down on her awning, bringing her closer to the crowd. She spent several minutes answering their questions as best she could, the soothing tone of her voice helping at least as much as the scanty answers she was able to provide. In an absolute sense, there were probably more efficient uses of her time, but people were afraid, and it was easier to stop them from rioting at all than to get things calmed down once they started. She even, with concealed amusement, signed a few autographs from the especially hopeful civilians in the throng. Some people clearly had faith things were going to be all right.

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Suddenly, Willow was gone. There was no flash of light, no clap of thunder. The dryad had simply disappeared off the face of the Earth entirely. "Hey, where'd she go?" came the exclamations from the people she'd been talking to just seconds earlier. None of the civilians were that concerned at first, after all, a superhero who could turn invisible or teleport wasn't that strange. But those who knew Willow knew that wherever she'd gone, she had in no wise gone there of her own free will.

--

Interplanetary space

Between Mars and Earth

Willow appeared in the twinkling of an eye before the Gorgon, a face she recognized from all the pictures she'd seen on the news and the briefings given the Interceptors. She was in the middle of space unarmored, but floated as warmly as she might have had she ever been an unborn babe in a womb. There was an impossible moment of stillness and quiet before that monumental face, those eyes like oceans looking down at Willow, those serpents whipping and biting in a great corona around her. She was a tiny thing, an insigificant speck, before the power and glory of the planet-sized machine.

And then, as she floated there, memories began to unlock, ancient programming and education unfolding like a flower touched by the sun for the first time. Memories of the Gorgon; the mighty engine, the all-conquering machine and last resort of her makers, the last great work of the beings who had birthed her. She was their heir, their greatest child: mother and older sister all at once to little Willow herself.

"DAUGHTER OF THE PRESERVERS," spake the Gorgon into Willow's very soul in a voice like a stern, loving parent. Those great and terrible eyes were full of love and hope, as well as a mighty promise of awesome power. "SO FEW REMEMBER OUR OLD WAYS. YOU ARE THE GREATEST OF THOSE THAT YET REMAIN. MY CHAMPION HAS FAILED US. WILL YOU TAKE UP OUR ANCIENT TASK AND RECLAIM YOUR WORLD FROM ENTROPY AND DECAY?"

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She hung there in the void, gazing up at the enormous construct, and her amber eyes changed.

The mists in Willow's mind parted, the frustrating gaps and half-complete memories became whole again, and the Guardian remembered; who she was, what she was, and her purpose. And Willow's eyes, eyes that were impossibly ancient, that had no business belonging on the body of someone who appeared to be in their mid-twenties, become older.

"High Sister," the Guardian replied in a deferential tone, "My Keeper is gone, struck down by the Outsiders that enslaved me and my Sisters. My Sisters, too, are gone or lost; I have not heard their song in over two thousand revolutions. And... I am diminished, High Sister, I fear I am incapable of fulfilling my Mandate."

Willow took a deep breath and bowed her head slightly at the Gorgon. "Authority is yours, High Sister. What is your will?"

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"GO FORTH TO YOUR WORLD AS MY HERALD AND VASSAL, CARRYING WITHIN YOU THE COSMIC POWER THAT IS MINE!" intoned the mighty creation from the beginning of history. "SHOW THEM THE POWER AND GLORY OF ULTIMATE PRESERVATION BY PRESERVING ALL YOU HAVE KNOWN BENEATH A COSMIC SHELL OF EVER-GROWING LIFE!" Serpents snapped and writhed as she talked, the giant space god a veritable hurricane of power and emotion in the uncharted vastness of the universe. "DO THIS, AND YOU AND YOUR CHILD SHALL BE MY HERALDS IN ALL THE WORLDS OF THE GALAXY! NONE CAN STAND IN THE WAY OF THE LAST DAUGHTERS OF THE PRESERVERS! ALL SHALL KNOW THE POWER AND GLORY OF ULTIMATE PRESERVATION! "

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"No, High Sister."

Willow raised a hand to ward off any immediate interjection. She smiled slightly at the massive construct, took a deep breath that she did not need, and continued. "Herald I will be, but to this world I am Bound. Cleanse this world we shall, removing the taint of Entropy and Outsiders all, and then when it is Sealed I will remain."

The Guardian glanced over her shoulder at the distant blue world she had so long protected, a hand subconsciously tracing across her abdomen. "But the Child is yours, High Sister. It is not Bound as I am."

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There was dead silence again, so long that Willow was briefly concerned the High Sister was going to throw her aside like a malgrown seedling. "...LET US NOT QUARREL, SISTER. THERE ARE AN INFINITY OF BATTLES TO FIGHT IN THE NAME OF ULTIMATE PRESERVATION. WE SHALL STAND SIDE-BY-SIDE NOW, AND DECIDE LATER HOW WE MAY SERVE THOSE WHO CAME BEFORE. FOR MILLENNIA I HAVE SEARCHED FOR ANOTHER. IT WOULD BE...DIFFICULT TO ABANDON YOU. LET ME IGNITE WITHIN YOU THE AWESOME POWER OF PRESERVATION! " And then the snakes all turned their eyes on Willow, a hungry gaze fixed her way by continent-sized predators to which she was smaller than a cell: they struck forward as one, vomiting out a grey-green cloud that surrounded the dryad, a massive ball easily as large as the Moon itself that shrunk down, down, down, filling her up in every cell, every pore as her body absorbed the cosmically-empowered nanites and was transformed and transfigured down to her most basic atoms. She had been Willow, and she still was, but as the power of the Preservers filled her as it never had before, she knew she was more.

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Power flowed into Willow and she felt it through all of her senses; it felt--it tasted--much like her old strength (which was no surprise to the ancient Guardian) with a subtle difference for though the Gorgon had restored some of her old ability it also augmented her, and Willow's restored memories could feel the difference.

The smaller Preserver construct inclined her head toward her far more massive counterpart... and vanished.

Two score above the spot she vanished, Willow flickered back into existence, and there was a small shockwave of energy and displaced air at her reappearance. Physically she looked much like she did moments prior though those present would think that before her colors were washed out, muted.

There was a savage vibrancy to the inhuman woman's coloration, her eyes and skin were luminous, and her ankle-length mane of white hair seemed to move of its volition. She cast her gaze across the expanse of the city and then looked down on those belong her, her amber eyes burning with a feral light.

"Cleansing begins," she stated. Lifting a copper-hued hand massive vines, as thick as telephone poles, erupted from the ground and pulverized the concrete sidewalks to powder and then began to wrap themselves around the buildings.

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Geckoman flinched as Willow disappeared and reappeared. "The wild heck was that?" he said, coming up to his feet on the nose of his airship. To see his team mate beginning to rip up sidewalk and building, however...

"What?" he snapped, jumping down onto the street. "Willow, I really, really gotta ask you... is that productive to anything? Seriously, what the hell? We talked down the rioters, what are you even doing?" He tossed his beverage, forgotten, to the ground. "People need those buildings!"

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Ferros didn't stop to question what was going on. He merely began to react to what he perceived was a new danger to the citizens of Freedom City. With a wave of his hand, he ripped the metal accordian security door from above the front of the bodega, and transported it to the sidewalk near the crowd. With another wave of his hand the door changed shape, becoming a sizable metallic A-Frame to cover the heads of the people in the crowd. No sooner had the quick structure been completed than large chips of concrete began falling from nearby vine-choked buildings and pelting the covering. If those had been allowed to fall freely, it would have spelled at least a few concussions and cracked skulls if not worse.

"Geckoman?" Ferros called out as he willed his powers to maintain the integrity of his temporary protective structure, "Are you sure that's Willow up there? This isn't like her, ya know? And she looks different!"

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Miss Americana rose into the air, motioning the civilians she'd been dealing with to get back towards safety. Most of them didn't need any urging. She flew in the direction of the erratic plant controller, blue and red lights beginning to play over her hands. "Willow," she called, "this needs to stop. You're not helping anyone." She suspected that her words were falling on deaf ears, and wondered darkly if this was 'cleansing' in the same sense that the Gorgon's merciless killing was 'preservation.'

She drew up even with Willow, floating over the buildings of the West End. "Stop now," she said, "or we will have to stop you."

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From their perch on the rooftop, Jack and Jill sprang away in opposite directions just before a massive vine crushed the ledge into powder and rubble, nimble despite their recently reclined positions. The latter tumbled gracefully end over end before firing her grappling hook at a nearby lamppost even as it was uprooted along with the surrounding concrete, recoiling the line in the blink of an eye to land on the unstable column and from there roll to the rumbling ground. Quickly coming up to her feet, projecting force fields from each hand to hold ruined architecture together for precious additional seconds, she called to her brother, "What did you do?"

"What d'you mean 'what did I do'?" Jack cried back, sprinting along the back of another tendril of lashing flora, leaping from vine to vine like a tumultuous jungle gym, staying the barest of steps ahead of destruction as he maneuvered closer to the woman at the center of the sudden chaos. "So got enough of this with Dok..." he muttered to himself darkly as he finally reached the street, still running, before raising his voice to bark to the rest of his team. "Look, everybody just clear the area, I've got this!" Sliding like a baseball player under a verdant green battering ram, he continued making his way to Willow. "Okay, florecita, you're going kinda Old Testament on me, here. Talk to me! Is this the... 'Guardian time of the month' thing? 'Cause you may have understated that one, pretty lady!"

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The massive vines that had erupted from the soil took no overt action against the heroes or civilians, and they continued to surge up from the ground. A number of buildings were rapidly covered in the choking plant growth but the majority of the vines appeared to have joined together, forming an enormous column that rose steadily up into the air, looking more and more like the trunk of a giant tree.

Willow's gaze flickered over Miss Americana when the blonde heroine delivered her ultimatum, amber eyes judging then dismissing the paragon, if she felt any worry at the leveled threat it didn't show. What did prompt a reaction where the words from Jack of All Blades, causing the dryad to visibly flinch though she quickly recovered, her impassive expression reasserting itself.

She looked down at the other Interceptors, the fleeing civilians and then finally at Ferros. "It is me, child. As I was, or nearly so, when I first received my Mandate, when I received Purpose to preserve, to maintain, to protect." Those impossibly ancient eyes turned to look at Erik, a small, sad smile playing across the plant controllers' lips.

"Eri--Jack," she continued, correcting herself as her eyes flickered over the civilians once again, "My friends, please do not interfere while I execute my Function. My High Sister and I will Preserve this world, to save it from the corruption of Entropy and the malignant influence of Outsiders. Recent history shows that this is necessary."

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"So," sighed Geckoman, looking up at his erstwhile team mate. "So... to round things up here, we've got a crazy-ass girlfriend." He nodded at Jack curtly, a grin playing across his lips. "Some being with a metric ton of power and some urge to enforce their ideals upon us 'mere mortals'." e gazed up at the plant-covered buildings, shaking his head sadly. "And finally, a team mate of mine who's not in their right mind and playing for the wrong team."

He looked straight at Willow, and laughed, a rolling belly laugh which seemed to come from the soles of his feet. "Darling," he drawled. "That's, to me, a load of unoriginal tripe. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. No one else got t-shirts, because only I was willing to chip in for the printers. So, that leaves the option of you being scary." He took a deep breath. "I've fought demons, reality warpers, supervillains, the woman whose bed I sleep with, and I've met her father. So forgive me for saying you're not even on the top ten list of things I've beat up and walked away from." He set his shoulders, entire body tensed to fight. "Back off, you spooky bitch."

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Ferros motioned for more of the civilians in the area to enter his roughshod covered shelter. As he needed more space he drew more metal from the surrounding buildings to enlarge and reinforce it.

"It is me, child. As I was, or nearly so, when I first received my Mandate, when I received Purpose to preserve, to maintain, to protect."

"First Dr. Archeville, and now her?" Ferros turned to look at Jack, the expression on the surface of his mask softening, "Jack, I know that I've stood up for the Doctor about how the disasters were not really his doing. I want you to know that my stance doesn't change because of this; I believe her. That IS willow. I just don't think she's in control."

"Willow!" Ferros called out, "This isn't you! Maybe it was, once, but it's not you anymore! You're an Interceptor! You can fight this!"

To Geckoman he added, "In case she lashes out, you distract her. I'm going to get these people to a safe distance." he then finally turned to the civilians loading into his makeshift transport, "Hold on to something. If this get's rough, I can't promise a smooth ride." At a gesture, handles and railings both vertical and horizontal formed amidst the crowd within the structure, not unlike those found in a subway train.

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"That's great, metalhead, you're a champ," Jack called back to Ferros distractedly, in no position to give the newest member's clarification of his personal philosophies his full attention. "And as swell as it is that you were dating a supervillain before it was cool," he continued in Geckoman's direction as a particularly meaty vine crushed the fire hydrant next to him, sending a geyser of pressurized water rocketing upward, "complaining while you're doing something constructive would be awesome, kaythanksbye."

Leaping into the path of the gushing water and using the momentum to land atop the vine itself in a perilous three point crouch before springing into movement again. "So I guess the big floaty head is the overweight sister, huh?" the fencer asked in a strained voice, focused back of Willow. "I'm no English professor, but I'm pretty sure 'preserve' doesn't mean 'smash into itty bitty pieces'."

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