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With the robotic nature of the imposter, Jack didn't know what to think. He'd been so sure that Archeville's nanites were back and to blame for his sister's actions but this was completely unexpected. Ellie had been acting more aloof than usual for weeks; had she been kidnapped and replaced that long ago without any of them noticing? He felt a wave of guilty nausea lap around the bottom of a towering rage just before his knee gave out and he collapsed gracelessly to the rooftop. "Ngh. Got-gotta call Fleur. Hckkh. Could b-be more, League needs to..." The swashbuckler's vision swam, darkening around the edges as he grimaced and moved a hand to clutch his stomach. "Aw nertz," he managed to cough before finally blacking out.

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"Oh, goddammit..." swore Geckoman, dropping to his knees beside Jack. "His injuries are internal, we're going to need a real doctor to deal with this." He eyed his fallen leader, before setting his jaw and turning to the group.

"Right, guys, I figure, you're all really pissed. I am too, but we need to keep in mind, Erik's in a lot of trouble right now, and we need him back before we can find Ellie. But I don't know how bad this is. He's hurt inside." The Geckoman sighed, and pulled back his hood from his head, to reveal the tired-looking young man underneath.

"Willow, you need to stay with him. He needs you, until we can get proper help here." Chris nodded at Fulcrum. "Get word to the League, they need to know what's happened here, and if possible, we need Fleur. She'd be able to get Erik back on his feet, I think."

Then he turned to Mara, and cautiously put a hand on each of her shoulders. "Listen," he said softly, but not patronizingly. "I get it. You're upset. You want to find who replaced Ellie. I know it, because we all do. But you have to stay with me here, alright? We need to do this as a team."

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Fulcrum assumed the team would subdue Jill. She didn't particularly care how as long as the fight ended without anyone dying. The strange lights obviously meant something was up, but a robot imposter certainly wasn't on the list of possibilities. Which made hearing a metallic crunching sound and seeing Willow apparently crushing Jill's throat all the more horrifying. Fulcrum whirled around, readjusting her hold in order to get a grip on Willow before she did anything foolish.

Not that it mattered. The sudden flash of plasma flashed across her vision and she stumbled backwards. The heat washed over her but somehow felt soothingly warm. The robotic skeleton, the self destruct, the burning roof...Jill. Everything just happened so fast!

Dragonfly looked on top of everything. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head, turning to the rest of the team. "Jill is a robot?"

The gears in her head turned as she tried to process this new information and fit it with the goings on downtown. Her eyes drifted over to the large, vaguely familiar power suit sitting in the street. The one with the dead pilot. Everything clicked.

Jack and Geckoman brought her back to reality. Jack's condition, hell, the condition of the whole team, made her frown. She nodded to Geckoman. "On it."

Waiting for her commlink to connect, she added, "This is happening all over downtown. Heroes are...attacking people." Glancing at the robot's remains, "This would explain it."

"League Board this is Fulcrum. Be advised: 'wrathful' may be robotic imposters. Repeat: robot replacements. Confirmed case in the West End. Please patch me through to Fleur: medical emergency."

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The communication line to League HQ crackled with static, and the voice on the other end was a little bit shaky, but at least there was someone answering the phones at Freedom Hall. "Copy that, Fulcrum. We'll relay that data to other teams in the field. Get any information you can and secure the robot if possible. Stand by for Fleur de Joie."

The commlink gave a few more hiccups of static, then connected again. Fleur's voice was instantly recognizable, though she sounded unusually worried and a little distracted. "Fulcrum, this is Fleur de Joie. Comm says you're reporting a medical emergency? Are you guys all right? I'm in the city, just tell me where you're at and I'll jump over there. The city is a madhouse right now, but I guess you probably know that."

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[bg=#555555]"I am not part of your team,"[/bg] Dragonfly slowly and carefully pointed out, her emphasis more pointing out Geckoman's use of the word than mocking the team itself. The young heroine's force field twitched, pushing outward - not sharply, but enough to get his hands off her armor. [bg=#555555]"I also do not like to be touched. One: I would not leave Erik to die on a rooftop. Two: I like you all and you are very good and useful but unless you are in immediate danger I will leave you behind if I think it will get me to Ellie faster, and as much as it would hurt I would expect you to, too, if you had to. That is not negotiable. Save empty reassurances for people who need them. We have work to do."[/bg]

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"Yes. We do," agreed Geckoman quietly, raising his hands away slowly, and bringing them down to fiddle with his belt. They came away with a couple of lenses and brushes. This was probably one of those times he should shut up. Even if he did want to point out that while Dragonfly wasn't on his team, Jill was.

He turned to kneel beside the remains of the robotic body. "Right. Lemme take a look at this." He took a couple of experimental whiffs of the remains, recoiling briefly at the stench of burnt metal, and leaned in close, holding a lens up to each of his eyepieces.

And a brief few moments later... dropped the lenses. "Clearly extraterrestrial... the processors here mimic every known human bodily function, down to the mechanisms for superpowers. The fire..." He gestured vaguely. "Actually pretty common, it's a mechanism the Lor and Grue use as self-destruct. Heh, this one time I was... no, not the time for this story, actually."

Geckoman stood up to look sombre. "This, I've heard of before. In the 1960s. First contact with an alien being known as the Curator. We're in trouble, guys."

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The roof the Interceptors found themselves on was fairly bare of furnishings, with the exception of a small group of potted evergreen trees by the access door that had obviously just been brought up for storage after the Christmas season. That was fortunate, since mere moments after Fulcrum made her call, one of them sprouted an extra-large pinecone which stretched like a cocoon, then spun around to reveal Fleur de Joie. She looked like she'd already been working hard that day; her coat and hood were gone, her green tunic and pants splattered with dried blood, tendrils of her long green hair escaping confinement left and right. Even so, she was running as she crossed the roof to where Jack was laying.

"What happened?" she asked the group at large as she knelt by the fallen swordsman and opened her pouch of seeds. "Fulcrum said you fought a robot impostor?"

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Fulcrum flicked off her earpiece, "Right. See you...shortly?"

She smiled at Fleur's arrival and followed her over to Jack. Kneeling as well, she recounted the tale, "A guy in a giant power suit came through. Apparently 'Jill' killed him and turned on the rest of the team." She glanced up at the now-still armor and sighed. "Turned out she was some sort of robot. I'm not sure what she did to everyone, but Gecks said Jack has internal injuries."

Hearing tidbits of Geckoman's conclusions, she added, a touch of irony in her voice, "Great. Yes, some sort of alien robot. I'm thinking she became a 'wrathful' along with the others destroying the city. Which means we need Jack up and moving. If this story checks out, we have dozens or more kidnap victims to free."

She didn't know Fleur particularly well but certainly trusted her abilities. Viktor always spoke highly of her. Now Fulcrum silently hoped Jack's injuries weren't serious enough to foil even Fleur's powers and skills.

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"Yes, I think Geckoman is right," Fleur murmured, briskly but gently checking the fallen hero's pulse, his ribs, the inside of his eyelids. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips and tongue an unhealthy bluish shade, not a good sign at all. She undid the belt bandolier that Jack wore across his chest, but needed to use her scissors to open the shirt. "His ribs are all intact, and no visible wounds. It looks like he had some kind of pulmonary embolism, maybe more than one. This doesn't even look like battle damage. But if he was fighting Jill, she can create bubbles..." The thought of that made her visibly shudder before she turned back to her work.

With her supplies exhausted, she took a bit longer to work, growing plants in the loose gravel of the roof and then harvesting them for her remedies. Within a few minutes, though, Jack's chest was covered in sap-smeared leaves that smelled strongly of menthol, and Fleur had put several types of ground-up plant under his tongue. Patting his cheek, she put as much cheer as she could into her voice. "Can you hear me, Jack? Time to wake up now, you've got lots to do."

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For a beat there was no response, then Jack abruptly sat bolt upright, taking a great, shuddering breath as he rose, both hands clutching his chest. For a moment all he was able to sort out in his jumbled thoughts was that he had a pounding headache in his whole body, he was on a rooftop somewhere, his shirt was missing and he was covered into something dark and sticky. Not again... In the time it took him to spit out whatever was under his tongue, however, the events of the last hour came rushing back to him. "No!" the fencer snarled in the tone of a cornered animal, rolling to his feet with a grace that proved Fleur's arts had been successful while also suggesting stiffness in his usually acrobatic movements.

Holding his masked forehead for a moment as blood rushed about in newly healed arteries, making up for lost time, Jack grimaced and looked about. "Fleur. Thanks," he nodded, too tired to tinge his gratitude with a joke or wry aside. He took Willow's hand and gave it a light squeeze before looking to Dragonfly and Geckoman. "How long was I down? What do we know? Give me something."

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[bg=#555555]"Robots,"[/bg] Dragonfly supplied from where she was standing off to the side frowning at not-Ellie's remains. [bg=#555555]"Alien robots, sophisticated, impersonating people here for...maybe a while. Apparently self-destruct when stopped. Wasn't just Jill - most of the city's having similar issues. Need to find out who in space would be able to do this, but list probably isn't that short. Need-"[/bg]

Her head ticked to the side as something her suit had received caught her attention, unfocused for a few seconds as she turned it over in her head. [bg=#555555]"....have to go. Someone needs help. ...half the city needs help. But this person could be...useful. In stopping things, finding people."[/bg] Her wings flared to life, four blades of neon energy lifting her off the ground a bit before she hesitated and turned back to point a finger at them. [bg=#555555]"Do not follow. You have other things to worry about. Will keep suit's radio link open, just in case - share what I learn, let you do the same. Keep your team together."[/bg]

And then she was off, flying northeast as fast as her suit would go. had better not be a mistake - cannot spare the time

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At almost the same time, Fleur cocked her head to listen to a transmission on her own earpiece. She hastily packed up her remaining plants, shoving them into her pouch as she replied. "Velocity, this is Fleur de Joie. I read you, I'm coming to help. Can you lead him into Mona-Glenn Park, down on Kendall Street by the bridge? My ETA there is sixty seconds."

Rising, she turned to the Interceptors. "I have to go. My comm line is still open to you, let me know if you need anything else. Good luck!" With that, she touched the petals in her hair and was gone, leaving only the scent of flowers in her wake.

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Chris sighed as Fleur teleported away and Mara flew off. "Hum. Right, Erik, since nobody else seems to be twigging this: the Curator. Alien intelligence, traditionally, he is a big fan of robotic infiltrators. Big time bad news. First time we encountered him was back in the 60s." Geckoman paced back and forth. "Guy's a tremendous ass, but the problem is that carnage in the streets is not his modus operandi from what we know. Like, this is not a thing he's done before."

He waved his hands towards the wreckage of the Pitchoo. "With Mara in a state, and the ship down, and most of the heroes tied up fighting robots, or replaced with robots, I'm not sure what to do here."

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Willow had been kneeling listlessly next to Jack the moment he collapsed, covered with burns up the arm that ended the robot's rampage with a few marring the coppery skin of her face. The damage done from the Jill impostor's destruction was ignored by the dryad--damage that was rapidly healing--she had her eyes fixed on Erik. She didn't react when Fleur arrived, indeed it seemed she was ignoring everything around her. It was only when Jack was up and moving again that some life returned to the white-haired guardian.

"There is nothing we can do," Willow said. "Not against the Curator, not with our resources." Her lips quirked into a sad smile, but lurking in her amber gaze the hint of barely contained fury. "The Preservers tried to create and maintain something beautiful, but my 'family' seems to be nothing but monsters. I can tell you where he can be found, when my sister and I were of like mind this is one of the many things she shared with me. She then, like myself now, wasn't opposed to a little fratricide."

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"...dammit. And I used to really like space, too." Erik muttered, rubbing his forehead through his bandana mask with one hand while leaning a little more heavily than he meant to against Willow. The dryad's assessment left him feeling hollowed out, like he was going to collapse in on himself in despair. His mind scrambled, incapable of accepting that they were well and truly helpless to save one of their own, his sister. The enormity of it filled his lungs like drowning as he tried to grasp fighting something the Gorgon considered a peer.

In the end it was perhaps only his inability to do so that kept him moving. Cracking his neck once, the fencer stood up straighter. "Alright. Last time something happened to Ellie, Mara literally split the heavens getting her back. We back her play." Admitting he couldn't save his sister himself took a herculean effort on Erik's part, but he set his jaw and continued. "Chris, get through to her or to HAX and see if you can spell out those cosmic coordinates for them. Mo', you said this stuff is going on all over the city, yeah? Where can we help?"

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Suddenly, from behind them the robot rumbled to ponderous life and began speaking in a completely bizarre voice, a high, girlish one that had nothing to do with giant war machines from the Terminus and everything to do with...anime? "User input no longer active. Reverting to secondary programming - crush. KILL! DESTROY! the superheroes! Thank you for patronizing Otaku Industries, where we live to fulfill your every fantasy." And suddenly, the giant robot began to fall apart, arms and legs detaching amid a roar of rockets, even the head floating free as its eyes began to glow a cheerful shade of cherry red. "Entering DEATH MODE! AHAHAHAHA!" And then head, torso, arms and legs, rushed towards the Interceptors atop pillars of fire!

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Fulcrum smiled in relief at Jack's return to health. "Only a few minutes. Fleur took good care of you." As far as the technical jargon, Mona just blinked at Dragonfly's response and motioned to her, "What she said."

"Thank you, Fleur. Best wishes," she spoke warmly to the plant controller. "We are going to need it."

Once Dragonfly and Mara departed, Fulcrum turned back to the conversation with a distressed look on her face. Jack's voice pulled her out of her funk. Blinking a few times, she started, "Yes, all over. Heroes and villains alike. Downtown is the worst. Lots of bystanders. We could really help..."

"...there?" The cognitive dissonance caused by the robot and voice rendered her speechless. Psychologically, it also helped her focus past the team's harsh reality. If they couldn't save Ellie directly, which tore Mona up to no end, they could still be heroes.

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In the beat it took for the renewed assault to register and sink in, Jack blew right past anger, past righteous fury, to a place of cold focus, rage folded like the steel of a sword in the forge to a razor keen edge that wanted only for a conveniently provided target. "Impromptu therapy session, kids," he noted in a tone that lacked any trace of humor despite the reflexively wry words. The swordsman spun to his right, greatcoat flaring out about his calves as he sidestepped a ruby red beam of deadly light from the giant flying head, the corpse of its former owner still visible in the cockpit. As the laser passed by it curved to slip into Jack's welcoming fingers, solidifying into a blade of searing energy. "Make it quick. We don't have time for this."

Continuing the same fluid motion, he moved forward, kicking off the rooftop and into the air to land with both feet atop the charging torso, now a rocket propelled irregular wrecking ball studded with batteries of missiles appearing from behind retracting panels. Jack's sword pierced into the automaton and extended another three meters to poke through the other side. With a flick of his wrist, the swashbuckler brought the luminous weapon up and around, neatly cleaving the torso into two pieces. As he nimbly tumbled away toward his next midair target, both halves fell to the ground, undeployed munitions exploding within the ruined shell.

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Fulcrum watched Jack leap into the fray and nodded. A little giant-robot therapy could do anyone good.

The giantess followed suit and soared forward into battle. What she lacked in grace she certainly made up for in power. The satisfying crunch of metal followed a booming impact. The robot arm's plated fist shuttered and crumbled against Fulcrum's own. It may still be functional, but she sure wasn't letting it move.

A few rapid-fire punches were added for good measure.

And stay down!

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Geckoman sighed as the component parts of the robot flew at him. It had been a long day. The robot had trashed part of the city, and while Jerry was a bad guy, you know what? Chris didn't think he should have died. It wasn't right. And then Jill had turned out to have gone too far... but she was a robot, and that to him was worse than her killing someone. If you go too far, you can come back, but they didn't know where she was. Well, Willow did, but none of them could go save her.

He was tired. So goddamn tired.

"Hey, big robot head!" he shouted, walking slowly towards the ledge and approaching robot parts. "Look at you, big head guy! You think your programming is enough to kill me!? Might be, robot, but you know what, I'm Geckoman, and that means my life is mine! Come get it!"

And spreading his arms wide as he reached the edge of the building, he leaned forward and let himself topple off of it, entering freefall swiftly, legs unable to keep balance. He twisted in mid-air to look upwards, unable to see the ground rapidly approaching.

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Exploding into motion a half-step behind her teammates, the dryad was a blur of streaming white hair, muted woodland hues and coppery skin as she made a barefoot dash across the rooftop. One of the giant robot components, a leg, altered its trajectory to pursue Fulcrum until Willow collided with it, having made a bounding leap from the roof.

The torturous shriek of tearing metal filled the air as Willow ripped at the machine, the edges of sheared metal lacerating her arms as she continued to tear apart the leg from within. Some of the gashes were deep, and they hurt, and though Willow was aware of the damage she paid it no mind as she continued her assault; the wounds closed as quickly as they formed, but more importantly the loss of family hurt more than any physical wound.

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While the first of the arms crumpled under Fulcrum's grip, its rockets sputtering and fingers splayed out at strange angles, the second make a rush for Jack of all Blades, hand open and grasping for the freefalling hero. A well placed shot with his grappling line brought the heroes up and out of the machine's path then right around on its tail. Jack's ruby red sword flashed again, piercing the back of the robotic hand and through its palm as he landed on its massive wrist. He rode the bucking thing down to the street, skewering it against the pavement as it twitched.

Willow's hold on her target held strong, keeping it out of the fight. It's partner came about and shot toward Fulcrum, looking to deliver a giant sized jump kick to the paragon. Instead, it sailed by, its aim evidently not very good with the robot's head and eyes otherwise occupied. Specifically the head was zooming downward, hot behind Geckoman and giving the plummeting youth a face to face look at its bloody occupant. Sizzling beams shot from its eyes, searing its target while it continued to laugh maniacally.

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A wave of satisfaction washed over Fulcrum as the crippled robotic limb dropped earthward and the other one craftily avoided a bad move.

Huh. I do feel better.

She sized up the competition only to realize her teammates had taken a toll on the numbers. Further comfort fled her however as she noted Geckoman's plunge. Intellectually, she full well knew the young but experienced hero knew what he was doing, but her friends' conditions were always somewhere on her mind. Best to let him be for now and handle things on his own terms.

Thinking perhaps a bit of flare was in order, the heroine kicked high, rotating backwards as she backpedaled. The kick picked up momentum as she spun, delivering a nice, solid THWACK! as she punted the unattended leg toward the waiting street below. The connection was soft, but still strong enough to rattle the thing like a bucket of bolts!

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Geckoman winced as he tried to roll out of the way of the robot laser eyes scorching a line across his torso. "Ouch!" He reached to his belt, glancing backwards to check how close he was to impacting the pavement.

Close enough.

He aimed and fired at the robot with his magnetic grapple gun, momentarily stopping in mid-air, before his momentum caught up with him in conjunction with the zipline recoiling back into the pressurised chamber. With a velocity borne mainly of a half-assed, ill-thought out plan to throw himself off a building, he surged back upwards with a crushing force, bracing his entire body so that the maximum possible force was exerted forwards through his half-crouched, tensed legs towards the glass canopy of the robot cockpit.

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The beleaguered robotic leg made one final effort to shake the ancient living weapon that had taken such savage delight in tearing it apart before giving up the ghost and, in a fit of pique, violently blew itself apart. Willow held up arms to cover her face and ward off the blast while thick plates of bark-like material sprouted into existence. The thick tree armor easily absorbed the retribution strike of the 'dying' limb as fuel tanks ruptured and munitions cooked off.

Willow emerged from the shower of fire and metal with a look of savage satisfaction on her face, her heavy armor plating detaching and rapidly withering away. And then she dropped like a stone.

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