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When the blow came, two trains of thought took off in Cannonade's head, both of which were populated mainly by obscenity.

The first, somewhat more fearful, was centered around the fact that one of the most dangerous people he knew had just turned on a dime, leapt into the fray, and utterly destroyed a man.

The second, running a lot more hot, was that she had just killed a man in cold blood, and was deliberately moving the fight to an environment almost entirely suited for collateral damage.

"Son of a bitch."

Cannonade didn't so much leap as he dropped from the building, aiming for the opening to the subway. He trailed off the side of the skyscraper, using what handholds he could manage to slowly decelerate as he reached bottom. He touched down hard enough that the impact went right up into his brain - but all it did was push him to move faster. He ran down the platform, catching up with his crazed teammate and staring her down as she and Cobalt Templar struggled over the security guard.

"This isn't you, Wander," he said. "You're not that ****ed up. If that is you, we need to get you out of here. Work this out. And if that isn't you... then God help me for what I'm going to do to you."

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For the first time he could remember, Midnight actually froze for a moment as he watched Wander brutally murder a man from his hidden vantage point. Over their telepathic link, Renard received silence; not the calm surface stillness that usually hung over his thoughts but a complete, muted lack of cognition. It last only for a split second, only long enough for those less effected to begin moving into action before that internal emptiness unfolded into interlocking latices of cold clockwork.

The first thing he did was set the second channel of his mask's communicator to call Hallomen's Advanced Experts, one of its preassigned automatic numbers. Good lord, she murdered him cold blood. Whether this was the result of something he'd missed after Archeville's breakdown or some new insanity, the scientists there were his best hope for immediate analysis. Wasn't fast enough, couldn't stop her. It was even possible that Erin had been exposed to something at work in which case HAX needed to be warned. Acting strangely for months.

Next, he drew a custom handheld tablet from his costume's jacket, pulling up a link to the computers that controlled the city's subway system and instructing them to immediately stop all trains between stations. Taking hostages, she would never... If anyone went back to check later it would simply look like a programming bug had tripped an emergency subroutine but for the time being he'd reduced the number of innocent bystanders. Idiot, should have known, should have stopped it. By the time that was done, the HAX number had come back busy, evidently otherwise occupied.

In a single smooth motion he slipped from his hiding place and into the room below, preceded by a cloud of stygian mist that cloaked his presence. My fault, failure. Immediately he was next to Eve, placing a hand on her shoulder and signaling Edge for immediate teleportation. Planned for this. Should never have come to it. Breathing in deeply through his nose, his place his other hand to the side of his mask and directly addressed Wander's comlink.

"Know you can hear me," he began, and the sounds that came from his mouth were not a human voice, not simple language. "Controlling or replaced. Months ago." Each syllable was a scalpel of ice, each word a clawed shadow that gripped breath in the throat and held it there. "You. Will. Pay. Beyond breaking, beyond limits, beyond understanding." This was not a threat from a masked vigilante. This was a promise from a fundamental force that could not be denied. "Speak of retribution. Theatrics." The very concept for which the word 'vengeance' was a poor, inadequate attempt at description rolled through the com channel as mist rolling off of dry ice. "I am wrath."

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White-faced behind his mask, Edge appeared in darkness, gathering up Midnight and Renard by feel and dropping them down onto Redbird, knowing Trevor would need the extra mobility, not to mention that he couldn't just walk into the inside of a crowded subway station he'd never seen before. Mark was deeply frazzled, as one would expect for someone who had just overhead his friend brutally murder someone and take an innocent hostage, but say what you will for him he always came through in a crisis. I do, don't I? But I couldn't stop Erin... Suddenly, over their heads, he saw something come whooshing out of the darkened, shattered office and smash its way into the subway station just down the street. "Ohhh craaap..." And then Mark concentrated with all his might, pushing through the explosion of pain, and they were right there at the entrance to the subway station as terrified people streamed out past them on either side.

Down below, Wander, Cannonade, and Cobalt Templar's tete-a-tete had just been interrupted by an angry young man in black slacks and a red shirt who seemed to be hovering in mid-air. "Hey, lady! I don't know what kind of psycho you are!" he shouted as he tossed aside a fleeing tourist, "but nobody kills the master of the Labyrinth and just runs away! I'm going to put your head on my wall!" Under other circumstances, the flying brick who had just powered his way through a subway station's security doors would surely have been at least a moderate problem.

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It didn't take them long to catch up to Wander; despite how often Corbin and Eve clashed last year, the telepath knew he was reliable and he did a perfect job of slowing down Erin. There were too many civilians being tossed around by the less restrained of the superpeople; namely Wander and some chump in red and black, Eve noted as she took a powerful telekinetically assisted leap off the back of Redbird.

"Shut up," the masked woman snapped at the Labyrinth flunky at La Renarde Bleue touched down lightly on the ground, faint orange light leaking from her eyes, the same orange light that suddenly surrounded the myriad airborne (or otherwise imperiled) civilians.

--She just killed your boss. Are you really that eager to paint a target on yourself? She. Will. End. You.-- the telepath thought to the black and red man in a tone that was far calmer, and kinder, than what she used to verbally address him. As Eve moved the civilians out of harms way she added, --Do the smart thing, get out of here.--

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Erin grimaced in frustration as she lost her grip on the security guard. "He's evil, he works for evil men!" she appealed to Corbin and Joe both. "Can't you-" She froze as Midnight's voice came over her commlink, promising pain and death in a way that had her grabbing hold of her own arms for comfort. "I thought you'd understand!" she cried aloud, looking around her as though Midnight were hiding in the shadows of the platform instead of a voice on the radio. "Trevor, you of all people! The fight is so long and it takes everything you have, and it's never going to be done unless we finish it!"

She looked utterly miserable for a moment, lost and confused and afraid, until the promise of vengeance from that pissant villain and Sage's wash of orange light seemed to snap her back to a businesslike mien. "Later for you," she promised the stranger, but there was no time to deal with him now, when she had bigger fish to fry. In a blur of speed, she raced across the now-empty center of the platform and back up the stairs, completely free of civilians now that everyone had either escaped or been herded away. Sprinting up the steps, she raced up the wall of the beautifully detailed steel and aluminum subway shelter and onto its gently sloping roof. Drawing back her arm, she let out a scream of pent-up rage and frustration as she drove her fist into the center support, sending the whole thing crashing down over the tunnel entrance. Only then did she seem to see Midnight and Edge there, just past the rubble. "You will understand," she promised Midnight in a shaky voice, then raced away down the center of the crowded street, heedless of traffic.

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"This isn't how we do things, Erin! You trained too long to do something like this!"

He turned to the newcomer, some of his frustration boiling to the surface, even as Erin started to run. He pointed to the man in red and black and spoke with an ever-deepening snarl.

"You keep your deus derelicta head out of this, you two bit thug. The adults are busy."

Midway through his sentence, Corbin was hunched over to prevent his head from embedding itself in the ceiling. He'd been too slow to prevent Erin's escape, an escape that had almost killed people. He took a few giant-sized steps over, his fire-amplified voice giving a crackling growl as he gave a long look at the pile of debris.

"I think I'm gonna give that الÙأس امرأة مجنونة a knock upside the head...She's lucky this didn't kill anyone."

And then he shoved one arm almost all the way through the rubble, scooping out several hundred pounds of stone. It surprisingly took him only a few moments to clear the way. A wave of his hand saw ethereal blue supports spring into being around the edge of the new hole created, while he positioned himself as a sort of middle column, enough room on either side for one person at a time to pass through.

"שמי×, ×¨×—× ×–×” בלגן."

He cleared his throat (which sounded like a rifle going off) and spoke in a loud, clear voice.

"Right everyone, let's get moving! Two single-file lines please, no messing with the doorman on your way out, and NO SHOVING."

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Cannonade braced himself as Wander brought the roof down. For all that she'd talked about not wanting to harm anyone who didn't need to be hurt, she'd sure hadn't hesitated to engage in collateral damage. He ran about the platform, trying to help Cobalt Templar in restraining the wreckage and preventing Wander's hammer blow from wreaking any further havoc.

"You," he said to the man who'd come after Wander with a grudge. "Either help out, or get the **** out of here. This ain't your fight any more, and if you've got two brain cells to rub together, you'd take a good step back." He looked up to the roof, gauging where Wander had punched through. He leapt up and took to the air, arcing his descent so that he'd land right at the entrance. When he landed, he found Edge and Midnight there, standing before the wreckage.

"We got any idea what the hell is going on?" he asked. As he did, he scanned the city ahead, checking for signs of Wander's trail - given what she'd done in the subway, odds were she might have left some sort of pitfall to keep others from trailing after her. When he found what he was looking for - a car hood, pretty much cratered - he took off, trying to catch up with his battle-crazed colleague.

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Midnight didn't bother to answer any questions or provide explanations. He didn't have time and he was in no mood. It would have been easy to look back over the past weeks, even months and see Erin's journey toward this mental break but Trevor knew her trauma and triggers and all of it rang false. He'd been an idiot not to act sooner, to convince himself that it was simply the melancholy of the holiday season that was to blame. Recriminations were something else he had no time for, however, and with a screech of rubber angrily rejecting pavement the Night Cycle blurred into motion, nitro injectors boosting the custom motorcycle to break neck speeds as its driver wove in and out of traffic in pursuit of the fleeing powerhouse.

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The pavement seemed to swarm up like liquefying mud around Erin's feet, trying to snare her and hold her down, but she kept running and pulled her way right out of him. Mark took a page from Trevor and didn't panic, despite his horror as cars around them ran off the road and smashed into each other (albeit at the low speed of a commuter in the city) to avoid the rampaging speedster and the Night Cycle. "I can't hold her when she's moving that fast!" he shouted above the wind, trying to take a page from Trevor and focus on the moment rather than how he felt at the sight of his friend gone insane. "If we want to bring her down, we've got to stop her running!"

Meanwhile, down below, the flying goon from the Labyrinth didn't seem to take kindly to being ignored. "You..what!? Listen, pal, I'm the top of the line in genetic engineering! I'm a masterpiece of science! Just because your friend is going crazy is no reason for you to suddenly get all high and mighty! Maybe it's time I cut you down to size, Mr. Giant!" He threw a wild punch at Cobalt Templar that managed to miss the giant by a mile, but did hit the wall next to him, making the entire building rumble as stones began falling from the already damaged ceiling of the battered subway station. "Uh, whoops..."

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For a moment, as Wander was pulling free of the mud and pavement, the Night Cycle drew nearly abreast of her, mere yards apart. "Trevor!" she called across the distance, her voice sounding weird, as though she were forcing it out of her throat. "You don't have to be a part of this. Go now, it's not too late! I have to... have to..." Her face went blank, then she grinned, a frightening look. "Justice has to be served, not only to Grant, but to everyone who escaped justice in madness!"

With that, she somehow redoubled her efforts, speeding up even faster and streaking away. In seconds she was in Riverside Park, her back to the city as she faced the wide bay. It didn't even slow her down as she raced at the water, then onto it, feet moving so quickly they had no time to sink below the waves, all the way to Port Royal across the water. In moments, her destination was in sight.

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"Great Work, genius."

Cobalt Templar's words were sarcastic, but his tone was distracted. Probably because he was trying to single-handedly hold up the ceiling of the subway station. He swatted aside a chunk that would have struck a young boy and his frightened mother, the piece of stone shattering harmlessly against a far wall.

--Eve, get out of here. Tell the others I'll be fine and catch up to them. I can handle this. Go.--

His tone wasn't commanding, but it was clear he was more concerned for the petite heroine and the civilians around them than for himself. Then again, Corbin was a tough guy. He could handle a building falling on him...right?

"Look, Mr. Masterpiece of Science. Any other day, I'd slug it out with you. But not right now. Too busy."

Keeping his bracing position, Cobalt Templar shuffled to the middle of the platform, even as the ceiling threatened to fall on them all. Once he'd hit what seemed to be the general middle, he heaved a bit against the ceiling...right as a shimmering plane of blue energy reached across the ceiling, bracing itself against the walls (and running columns down to the floor as well). CT's "giant construct" shifted, going from a vauge "ancient armored warrior" look to what seemed to be an industrial suit of powered armor, hydraulics straining to help him support the load. His real head was visible between the massive "metal" shoulders, his voice having lost some of its fearsome edge, but none of its determination. He planted himself there, holding the roof up, and he looked to not be moving. He raised his voice so the whole platform could hear him.

"I need everyone to stay calm! Keep moving out the door; you don't have my chunky butt sitting in your way, so you should be able to get 3-4 people through at a time! NO SHOVING! NO TRAMPLING! Keep moving. I'm holding this thing just fine; I've lifted weights heavier than this in the gym!"

His jovial tone would hopefully keep everyone from totally panicking. He then turned to the security guy who seemed itching for a fight. Only the genetically-engineered metahuman had the angle to see that Cobalt Templar was worried. And sweating. His voice was tense, almost hushed.

"Look, uh, whatever your name is, didn't catch it in this mess. You wanna throw down, give me the time to get these people out of here. Please. I'm begging you here. There are kids down here. They aren't in our fight. But if you try to fight, they'll get hurt, maybe worse. Then I'll get mad. So if you don't want to help, then please, please, just get out of here. Let me concentrate on saving their lives."

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Cannonade took to the air, following in the footsteps - and wreckage - of Wander. That was much less easy than it sounded; Wander was outpacing him the way a cheetah outpaces a mountain goat, and while he was clambering across the roofs and soaring over the gaps of the city, he could only watch as his teammate tore across the bay and Edge and Midnight raced off right behind her.

How did we miss this? he thought. What the hell is this? Mind control? Clone? Aliens? Or... no. No, this isn't her. It can't be her. But... what if it is? All he could think about was how he'd seen Wander take the field, time after time. He knew that he and Wander were alike - both resilient, strong, somewhat fast, and able to take blows that most of the rest of the team couldn't. But he hadn't been doing this as long as she had. He didn't have the experience she had. Hell, when he got down to it, he didn't have the strength she had.

But he wasn't alone. He knew what he had to do. And he knew, deep down, that the woman he knew - the woman he'd fought with, shared a table with, considered a real, honest-to-God friend - wasn't the one that had just killed a man. And whatever it is... it's gonna regret every single thing it's done that led to this.

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"That's not Erin," said Mark, his voice calm and steady in Joe and Trevor's ear through their shared commlink, even as he clung to Redbird's rear seat for dear life. "You know it, I know it, and we've known it from the second she killed that man. Whether that's a clone, or a Grue, or those nanites again, or a robot double, or it's Erin from another Anti-Earth, or she's been possessed by demons, or maybe a ghost, or she's been drugged, or is being mind-controlled again, or anything else, that's not Erin. We're going to stop her, and we're going to save everybody. Just like Erin would want. C'mon, guys. Let's do this for Wander."

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Midnight made a harsh, flat sound in the back of his throat before cutting in. "Mark. I know. Quiet and hold on." As he leaned forward flush against the body of the Night Cycle, it was already beginning to shift impossibly beneath them, the front wheel extending further forward as the entire vehicle lowered itself toward the blur of pavement rapidly disappearing behind them. "Redbird. Speed, power, options."

The autonomic intelligence's voice growled with throaty exaltation of a warrior in battle and tradesperson called upon for their craft. If Edge hadn't known better, he would have sworn there was a woman sitting right behind him on the motorcycle, speaking as clearly as if they were parked on a calm day. "Atomic turbines engaged!" With a thrum that traveled through their legs to their rib cages, the Night Cycle's panels shifted to make room for aggressive looking exhaust pipes that guttered with neon black flame before accelerating even further, leaving a line of gooey, half-melted tar in its wake. "Reviewing assault forms. Solar Ion Arrow. Corona Glaive. Gravity Blowgun. Rai--"

"Non-lethal detainment," Midnight snapped, flicking the handlebars of the transformed vehicle with immaculate ease to weave through the gardens on the river front before skimming along the surface of the water itself. "Index for disabling nanites, implants, transmitters." Behind them, a wave rocketed backward with a deafening boom as they crossed the sonic barrier.

The front of the Night Cycle began rearranging itself again even before Redbird replied, "The Plasmic Shock Vice! Could hold a void whale and turns Omegadrone armor to a locked metal prison." Twin pincers took shape on either side of the the bike's front wheel, white electricity arcing dangerously between them as they crossed over to the other side of the river and back onto land, still picking up speed. Within a heartbeat, Wander was visible on the horizon. Another heartbeat and the pincers sprung forward like the mandibles of a stag beetle thrumming with energies humanity hadn't yet chosen names for.

Trevor's heart skipped the third beat as he set his jaw and rammed the weapon tipped Night Cycle into Erin at more than six and a half times the speed of sound. The vice clamped closed immediately, sending currents through the unhinged powerhouse that would turn any hidden electronics into dust while leaving organic matter distressed but unharmed. Fingers gripping the controls tightly enough to strain the seams of his gloves, Midnight willed himself to breath, never taking his eyes from the young woman in front of him.

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"Fine, but we're not done. I'm Power Fist, by the way." The Labyrinth thug helped Cobalt Templar hold up the ceiling, sighing and rolling his eyes whenever people thanked him. "Goddamit, what is _up_ with you genetic norms, anyway?" he asked Cobalt Templar frankly. "I was trying to put you and your friend down a minute ago, and now I do one thing they think is heroic and they think I'm great." When the last of the civilians was out, Power Fist shook himself off and said, "Well, that was fun. Anyway, I've got a message for you to give your friend the crazy screaming girl." And with that, he punched Cobalt Templar in the stomach, knocking him off his feet as giant chunks of masonry came raining down all around them. "Later!" As the pieces fell, the man flew out through the hole he'd made in the roof earlier, just before the entire roof came tumbling down right on Cobalt Templar!

-

Across the way, a long moment passed as the battered woman struggled against her bonds before falling deadly still. A second later, she suddenly exploded in a burst of pale greenish fire, an eruption of heat that flash-fried false flesh away in an instant, revealing a metal frame beneath that was visibly running and melting like wax in the fire as a wash of scorching heat flash over the small patch of ground near where Erin lay, or had laid: the grass around the scorching cauldron of boiling and running metal had already burst into cheery red flames!

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Bringing the Night Cycle to a stop almost instantly thanks to the inertial dampeners Redbird had deployed, Midnight pulled a handful of small capsules from his belt and threw them atop the burning corpse. The pellets expanded into white foam on impact, quickly smothering the strange flames and preserving what was left of the revealed metal frame and faux humanity. He looked down at it silently while the pincers holding it retracted and the entire motorcycle resumed its original form. "Detecting no Terminus radiation or other identifiers," the autonomic intelligence supplied. "This was something else."

Midnight didn't answer right away, dismounting the bike and stepping closer to the wreckage. "Weeks," he mumbled under his breath, finally looking away to address Mark. "Month, maybe more. Noticed. Didn't understand." Turning back to the doused gynoid, he opened and closed his hands in tight, painful fists. "Meant what I said. Going to find her. Whomever took her will pay."

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Cannonade finally touched down a few yards from the site of the Wander clone's demise, tucking and rolling as he landed. He quickly surveyed what was left of the scene - running streams of metal, a scorched mark on the earth, and an incredibly horrible smell in the air. He almost gave thanks when he saw the wreckage, if only because it confirmed what he already knew - that this wasn't Wander, and someone had been pulling a con of them. Of course, that was cold comfort compared to everything else that little fact brought up. Who the hell did this? Why? How the hell did they get to her? Where the hell is she?

He stepped forward, getting closer to Midnight while still giving him the space he needed. "Let us know what we need to do," he said. "We'll take this bastard apart."

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When Eve came back to the smashed-open Grant building, having passed through a city torn by chaos, she found the meeting room they'd left behind was now completely deserted. Even Grant's body was gone from where Wander had punched it through several walls, leaving behind only dropped cellphones and briefcases, papers piled everywhere, and all the signs of a very hasty high-class departure. The only person she could find on the deserted top-floor was an athletic-looking young woman with short blonde hair in a chauffeur's uniform walking among the executive desks, searching through them and stuffing various papers and cheques into a large duffel bag. Getting very close, Eve could hear that the driver was humming "We're in the money, we're in the money, ya-ta-ta-ta-da-da-da..."

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"Fine, but we're not done. I'm Power Fist, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Power Fist."

The blue-clad hero even sounded sincere about it!

The Labyrinth thug helped Cobalt Templar hold up the ceiling, sighing and rolling his eyes whenever people thanked him. "Goddamit, what is _up_ with you genetic norms, anyway?" he asked Cobalt Templar frankly. "I was trying to put you and your friend down a minute ago, and now I do one thing they think is heroic and they think I'm great."

"It's an insane day."

When the last of the civilians was out, Power Fist shook himself off and said, "Well, that was fun. Anyway, I've got a message for you to give your friend the crazy screaming girl." And with that, he punched Cobalt Templar in the stomach, knocking him off his feet as giant chunks of masonry came raining down all around them. "Later!" As the pieces fell, the man flew out through the hole he'd made in the roof earlier, just before the entire roof came tumbling down right on Cobalt Templar!

Templar shouldn't have been surprised at the turnaround. He really shouldn't. But part of him had hoped he'd managed to completely avoid a fight. Apparently not.

As the rocks fell, he called out to the man.

"When we tangle again I'm kicking your butt up between your ears you two-faced snake!"

And then there was an eerie roar of rock turning to dust, and the flame-flinging giant of a man was buried there. For almost half a minute, the dust settled.

Was he dead? Trapped? Unconscious? No one could tell, but none dared approach the ruined pile of rocks that was the subway station.

Then, suddenly, blue light started to leak up, almost like wisps of smoke. The rocks shifted...before suddenly a blue hand the size of a man's torso ripped its way up from the ground, flailing around a moment before finding purchase. Within moments, Cobalt Templar was dragging himself out of the rubble, still in his now-more-battered "robo-suit" construct. He took a few moments to look around, noting that no civilians seemed seriously hurt. The extra-large size faded away, and he stood there in his normal costume.

"All you folks had better get home ASAP. It's gonna be a rough day in the neighborhood."

And with that he streaked into the sky, quickly hitting his maximum speed; the air seared in his wake, and a small sonic boom rattled windows as he skimmed just over skyscraper rooftops, maintaining a zig-zag pattern until he finally found the rest of the team (mostly thanks to spotting the Night Cycle and the trail it had left in its wake). He slammed to the ground a few feet over from them, cratering the dirt slightly, and turning the patch directly beneath his feet into dark glass. He stood, clearly looking around for a fight, before his eyes locked on the robot clasped on the front of the Cycle.

"What the....What in tarnation? What? But? A robot? A real, honest-to-goodness robot? Oh fer-"

He ran a hand over his helmet with a sigh.

"So we're going to go find the good-for-nothing varmints who did this and beat them sillier than snot, right? Because I reckon right now I could punch a tornado in the face and make it my new Sunday ride."

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Midnight had remain silent as Cannonade and Cobalt Templar arrived, mind churning like precision clockwork drowned in the syrup of the day's traumas. The former's reassurances fell on apparently deaf ears but as Corbin slipped into a stream of rustic idiom born of nerves, a knot formed in the black clad hero's shoulder, visibly tightening through his jacket. "Templar," he interjected brusquely, his voice pitched low but with a taut edge to it, "stop talking." After a beat, he sighed and raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose through his featureless mask. "Please."

Turning about he looked to the group. "Need more information. Renard is investigating Grant--" He was interrupted by a single tone in his mask's earpiece as the automated communications relay he'd set to work the moment he'd realized how wrong things were finally managed to get through to HAX. "Hallomen," he intoned, placing two fingers to the side of his mask. "Midnight. Need expert analysis of gynoid remains."

After a brief exchange, he stepped quickly over to the Night Cycle. "Edge, take that to HAX building in Hanover. Mara Hallomen waiting for you. Will meet you there; need to check Erin's appartment first." Mounting the bike, he pulled back enough to give the reality warper ready access to the partially burned robot before turning about. "Cannonade, back-up Renard then contact Freedom League, anyone with information, pool resources. Templar, city flyover. Help where you can, keep us informed. Stay in contact." He addressed the last instruction to the group as a whole. "No one else gets picked off."

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"On it," said Edge, bending down over the still-warm cybernetic skeleton of what had once been Erin. For all that Mark could be a talker, in a real crisis he'd learned enough to keep his mouth shut. This was a bad situation, and he was worried, but he had every confidence that his friends and the heroes of Freedom would sort it out. No one else has to die today. We'll get Wander back, and save everyone else who's having problems. Everything will be all right. Hope will prevail. He kept his focus on the mission, leaving comforting phrases for after they'd saved the day. "HAX first, then Claremont. I'll pop in on the roof of HAX, then right into Summers' office for the second." And with that he was gone, fading away along with the robot body to another destination entirely.

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CT stopped before he said another word, Midnight's tone giving him a clear warning. His jaw snapped shut, and the flicker of irritation was replaced with clear concern, concern that Midnight could read. The message was clear: "I'm here to help however you need it.".

He nodded as he was given his orders. He straightened up and snapped off a quick salute with a small smirk.

"Roger that. Going on overwatch. Yell if you need something. I'll report if I run across something."

With that, Cobalt Templar bent his knees slightly before rocketing into the air, leaving a short trail of fire, and more glassed earth beneath him. He was quickly higher than average sight could easily pick out as anything more than a flash of dark blue against the sky.

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Cannonade didn't say anything. He felt that speaking would just make everything more complicated and tie things up much more than they needed to be. He took the air, leaping across rooftops back to where the day had started off. He knew that he was more than a little out of his depth, and that the search would be more Midnight's department. But he would do whatever he could to set things right, get Wander back, and beat whoever was behind this until they were little more than a stain on the pavement.

Maybe not that far, he thought as he bounced across the city. Then he recalled the look on Midnight's face But pretty damn close.

He touched down gently on the roof, staying near where Eve was keeping point. His eyes landed on the woman in the chauffeur uniform cleaning out the place, and looked to Eve, waiting for a signal.

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The vulpine heroine glanced over at Cannonade, acknowledging him with a nod before turning her attention back to the blond woman. She was curious how the chase after Wander played out, though Cannonade's body language suggested an unsatisfactory conclusion. What she didn't wonder about was his presence; she knew Trevor well enough to recognize his touch on things, and so the telepath folded Cannonade into her mental link.

--Grant Pharma's Bad Day, act two,-- Renard thought as she leaped over the edge of the building, ethereal wings like tendrils of fire flaring into existence and carrying her right through the shattered window and into the conference room. As her feet touched the floor the telekinetic extended a hand and reached out with her mind, with the intent to capture the blond in her telekinetic grip.

"Hello," the fox masked woman began conversationally, "I was hoping you could answer a few questions."

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Though she looked briefly startled, the driver recovered with equanimity. "I'm not robbing the place," she said sharply, "I'm setting these aside so my employer will have access to them after his recovery, or his heirs will have them once his estate is processed. In case you haven't noticed, there are a lot of looters around, some of whom used to be on your team." She eyed Renard for a moment before going on, "What's up with that, anyway? They drop something in the water at Hero Central?" She was talking tough, but Eve could tell the driver was scared: whether of getting caught robbing a heavily-mobbed up employer or a crazy superhero, it was hard to tell. It was a day when everyone was on edge.

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