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Date: June 17th, 2011 (Friday), later afternoon/early evening

Continued from ArchEvil: Omnia Mutantur, Nihil Interit and ArchEvil: Gestalt Theory.

The foe was abominable, and the battle long, but the heroes prevailed. A great pseudonatural beast from beyond time and space, something which had apparently been slumbering in and influencing the science hero Doktor Viktor Archeville, had been banished, but at a terrible price. Archeville, reborn to a new (now fully human) body, stared at the spot where the fight had been, wrapped in his lover Fulcrum's cape, the only thing of her that remained on the battlefield in North Bay. She was gone, swallowed up by the explosion of Terminus energy that expelled the beat; chances were even of them either being atomized, or tossed into some other dimension.

Archeville's mouth hung agape. He stared, bleary eyed, hands still reaching out where Fulcrum had last held them.

Mona...

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A one-armed Geckoman appeared behind Archeville, frowning deeply. "So... not only have you made a lot of mess, you're also somewhat naked." He put a hand on the German man's shoulder. "Ew. Naked guy. Anyway, perhaps you should probably come with us somewhere that you can become less naked, and we will have..." He paused for dramatic effect. "Words."

He went to pull out the Pitchoo remote from his belt, then stopped. "Right, problem here. I may have... crashed. And you're not being naked in my car. I guess we're... right, I'm open to suggestions."

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"Right," Was all Ferros had to say. His trip back from the strange dimension within the mind of the monster they'd been fighting was a shaky one, and his stomach was still a little uneasy.

"Geckoman," Ferros looked around them. There was a crater the size of a small supermarket in the middle of the city. Fires were still burning. Chaos reigned. "I think that having 'words' can wait, ya know?" He turned a sympathetic eye to Dr. Archeville. Observing his distant expression, the steel mask on Ferros' face softened, "Besides, I was in there. His psyche. He's himself again. Or at least he will be once he's done grieving."

Ferros gestured with his hands, and pulled a small pile of slag from a nearby section of rubble. Before their eyes, it shaped itself into a kilt of sorts, like an old fashioned iron skirt a knight might have worn. He fastened it around Dr. Archeville's waist. "And that will suffice for the, 'less naked' part for now, I think."

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The massive, sword wielding figure had disappeared once it was clear the battle was over, leaving a cloud of crackling, blue-tinged smoke in its wake. The metamagi siblings walked out from the obscuring smog looking battered and singed, moving unsteadily until they spotted the others gathering around Archeville. "You!" Jack all but roared, bone-weariness the only thing apparently keeping him from lunging at the scientist right then and there. "What happened to her?! What did Mona just do to save your sorry skin?" The last vestiges of gathered power flickered around his extended, accusatory finger, but didn't coalesce into anything.

"Stop," Jill implored, following after her brother and pulling hard on his shoulder to force him to come up short, both of them looking about ready to fall over in any case. "Just... just stop," she continued, looking forlorn as she rubbed her face with the heel of her free hand and tried to marshal her thoughts. "I... need to find Mara, make sure... I need to go."

"Yeah... right, okay," Jack allowed, taking a deep breath that looked like it hurt a little. "Hey, Goggles," he called to Gekoman, taking the teenagers nonchalant manner regarding his missing arm as a cue that the injury was less serious that it seemed. "Get him to a hospital or turn him over the League, whatever you think. I can't get past wanting to kick his ass right now." Turning back to Archeville, he pointed his finger again, his voice steely serious and hot with anger. "If I see you near my people again, I will, too. You find a way to bring Mona back or don't come back at all." With that, the siblings limped off, washing their hands of the entire affair for the time being.

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The mask that Ferros wore saddened at the outbursts from Jack. He knew that Jack could not have known that Vicktor wasn't responsible for this. Not really, in any case. But it pained him to see such hot words thrown about between friends.

As Jack began to walk away, Ferros turned once again to Geckoman, "If you think you can get him to the hospital with just one hand, do it. I'm going to see if I can't go douse some of those flames," Geckoman could tell that Ferros wasn't thinking for a second about any of the wreckage that was still on fire. With that, Ferros hopped back on his disc of steel and swooped off after Jack and Jill.

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Jack's radio as well as those carried by the other Interceptors (if they were still in tact) crackled to life. For the first time since the battle had ended, Colt's spoke. His voice was weak, "Colt t'Interceptors. Reckon y'all better still b'live out ther." He shakily cleared his throat. "If'n y'all're list'ning, sure reckon it'd be nice ta get some help'ere. M'legs ain't movin'." Colt's homing beacon lit up on the transmitters just before his signal faded out and the radio went dead again.

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Geckoman sighed and put his head in his hands... well, hand. He never got this melodrama when he was working with a bunch of hormonal teenagers. Sighing, he reached his remaining hand up to hold down the commlink bud in his ear. "Geckoman to Colt, I am receiving. In my ear. Irritating my headache. Huh."

He crouched down on his haunches. "Yeah, there's some tantrum slinging going on here, so I'll try to come help you soon as." He pulled away his finger and shrugged helplessly at Dok. "Sorry, but he's sort of got a bit of priority over you, because y'know... giant tentacle monster thing." He put his finger back in his ear. "Where are you, anyway? You got a flare gun or something? Because that'd be a dead giveaway."

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A few seconds following Geckoman's response, a small ball of light shot up from a nearby pile of rubble. Colt was in what seemed like the wreckage of a neighborhood house. It seemed it was easier for him to just fire off a flare than actually respond on the radio. Perhaps he was in too much pain, who could say. But at least now they knew where to find him.

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