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April 1, 2013
In downtown Freedom City, the shops about the base of Pyramid Plaza bustled with customers looking to make up for the day prior's holiday. The spring weather meant lighter jackets than the receding winter chill had necessitated but the light cloud cover kept the breeze cool as shopping bags were juggled and grumpy children coming down from an excess of cheap chocolate added to the general din of the street.
That noise was abruptly overshadowed by a booming rumble in the skies above, the clouds directly over top the towering Plaza darkening into storm clouds without warning. Another peal of thunder sounded almost immediately, lightning flashing amidst the slate coloured sky, red-tinged and angry. A city all too familiar with the malicious exploits of Dr. Stratos and similar villains glanced upward warily, the more cautious among the shoppers already looking for the shelter of overhangs or awnings. Even they were surprised, however, when a streak of blindingly crimson lightning speared downward and struck the middle of the street, sending bits of pulverized pavement flying outward.
There was just enough time for panicked screams to register as vehicles were abandoned and pedestrians fled backward from the manhole cover sized crater before another bolt struck the same spot, accompanied by another boom of thunder. The next bolt came more quickly, then another even sooner after, building to a column of white hot fury searing a red after-image into the vision of those brave or foolish enough to still be watching.
Just as suddenly the barrage from on high stopped, nearby shopfronts still vibrating from the reverberating thunder. At the center of the cracked street and the circle of hastily vacated cars stood a young man looking inquisitively about with piercing grey eyes. Appearing no more than seventeen, he had a slim, well defined build amply displayed by his lack of shirt and a skirt of overlapping white cloth bordered with red. Simple sandals adorned his feet while ornate gold armlets stood out against flawless skin bronzed from the sun and thick dreadlocks of deep red hair. Black markings framing his eyes completed the look of someone who had just stepped out an Ancient Egypt exhibit at the nearby Hunter Museum.

Placing his hands on his hips, the figure offered the stunned crowd a broad, self-assured grin. "Hail, mortal realm!" he greeted them resoundingly, a note of laughter in his voice as he threw his arms up into the air. "Tis good to be back!"

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An entrance like that wasn't going to pass unremarked, not even in a town like Freedom City. By the time the lightning stopped, several calls had already been made to the Freedom League by concerned onlookers. Hardly more than a minute passed before the first League member showed up, stepping out of a yawned-open daffodil in a planter outside the Plaza. Fleur de Joie was dressed more for gardening than heroing today, her brown cowl tossed over a spring green shirt and blue jeans, a smudge of dirt dusting the corner of her mask. Even so, she drew herself up and walked with authority as she approached the smoking crater.


"Hello!" she called cautiously. "I'm Fleur de Joie from the Freedom League. Who are you?" She had her seeds in her hand, but hoped it wouldn't be necessary to use them. Maybe this was just some kind of misunderstanding or accident. Fighting lightning controllers really wasn't much fun. "Are you hurt?" 

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The youth turned immediately as the flower grew and produced the earthy woman, his grin widening to show rows of perfect teeth as he clapped in appreciation. "Aha! Flower magics! Fantastic! You mortal champions are as punctual as ever, haha!" Stepping nimbly out of the depressed pavement, he regarded Fleur frankly up and down. "Be this the modern fashion? I love it! It says, 'I am woman, I am professional, I can be practical and still be handsome!' Fierce!"

The otherworldly teenager snapped the fingers of one raised hand and abruptly his torso was clad in a cloak practically identical to Fleur's albeit in a deep red color. Lifting his arms within the fabric's sleeves experimentally, his expression clouded over in distaste. "Ugh. Oppressive. No." With another snap the cowl was gone as abruptly as it had appeared.

Looking back to Fleur with a blink that suggested he'd almost forgotten she was there, he smiled warmly again and crossed the rest of the distance to extend his hand. "But hold! Did you say the Freedom League? Fortuitous!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "I am Set, Lord of Lightning, Sovereign of the Sands and Commander of Chaos, among other talents! I expect you'll want to recruit me post haste."

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Comrade Frost had not yet made the kinds of connections in Freedom City he'd hoped to make during his year's liason duty - he also didn't sleep, rarely ate, and was scholarly enough that he spent much of his time studying in the League's archives of old cases. A minor member of the People's Heroes, REALLY? But the emergency alarm had pulled him from his studies, and though for some strange reason he had missed Fleur de Joie's teleport he had managed to catch an electronic transmission to the impact site just in time to be confronted with a figure he recognized instantly. 


The Soviet Union had been an ally of Nasser's in the 1950s and 1960s, dispatching aid to help him root out the super-problems that kept attempting to restore this or that long-dead mummy to rule as the Undying King of Egypt, or gods who had sought to summon long-gone Heliopolis from the ground below, or a thousand other threats largely missed by Americans who had generally seen Set clash only with his brother on the streets. Comrade Frost knew Set only too well. 


Freezing mist floating in the air behind him, the red-eyed Frost advanced on the pagan juggernaut that he knew only too well, automatically backing up his erstwhile teammate. "Even with a new face, I remember you, Son of Geb. You will find Earth's defenders no warmer to your entreaties than they once were. How did you escape pyramidal prison?" As he spoke, he pulled out a pair of gold-rimmed bifocals and peered at Set, his eyes narrowing with something between suspicion and wonder. 


"That is...that is you. Wait a moment." He put the spectacles away, his suspicion and anger cracking like melting ice. Guarded concern in his accented voice now, he asked, "What has happened to you, Sutekh?" 

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Set looked over as Frost arrived, reflexively exclaiming, "Me!" in response to the shouted challenge. He faced the angry warning with an interested but undeterred expression, dreadlocks shifting as he tilted his head slightly. "Well, I should expect to be remembered-- ah! Hel's draugr! Frost, yes? You are looking very cool." The youth waggled his eyebrows meaningfully before laughing. "I do not think the old me ever truly understood that jest. Ah! And you said 'no warmer' just now! Haha!"
The godling actually had to stop for a moment to let the laughter pass, evidently enjoying the wordplay greatly. "And you are an American champion now! So many changes! Do you know he used to call himself 'Comrade Frost'?" he asked Fleur, looking in danger of cracking up again. "A true tale! As for what happened to me..." Set shrugged broadly, holding both palms upward. "I have no idea! I am a god of change and I have changed! Be honest: am I much shorter? I feel much shorter."

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"He still is 'Comrade Frost'," Gaian Knight supplied, swooping in on a platform of earth. He gestured with one glowing hand and the street started pulling itself back together again - not perfectly, as there were still visible seams, but hopefully civilians would have an easier time driving through until the appropriate authority could be by to do proper repairs.

As usual, he was accompanied by his red-haired companion, and as usual she was off the platform before it had even come to a stop. Tiamat eyed the new arrival with an air of amused and interested curiosity, digging through what she'd studied of this Earth's mythology. "....not exactly what I imagined from 'Set the Destroyer'," she observed. "Kind of hard to imagine you fighting any serpent bigger than a rattlesnake."

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"Invoke Geb's name and behold!" Set exclaimed as the stone platform floated through the air toward them, admiring the show of power as the street was repaired. He looked askance at the draugr when the third Freedom Leaguer corrected his assumption. "I may have to rescind my proclamation of 'cool'. You need a name that suits the era! Which is why I won't be reclaiming the title of Destroyer,"he explained to Tiamat with a broad flourish of both hands. "Sends entirely the wrong message! Set the Protector, perhaps, oh maid of impeccable hair colouration! At the height of my worship red hair was seen as a sign of my favour, you know. I am still rediscovering much of myself but tis a simple thing to test if that still holds true." He made a pair of finger pistols and winked in the towering woman's direction, looking every bit as affected as one would expect.

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Fleur shook Set's hand, then watched the rest of the proceedings with a bemused half-smile on her face. She knew no more of Set the god than what she remembered from childhood trips to the museum, which wasn't a lot. It seemed much more likely that this metahuman was using the name of an ancient god as his hero identity than that he was actually a god himself, but Stesha knew from experience that a low-powered god on the outs with their pantheon did occasionally end up on Earth. Apparently Comrade Frost had once been Set's enemy, which she might have considered a point in his favor, but GK and Tiamat were wary as well. Better to continue treating him as a totally unknown quantity. 


"Comrade Frost is a metahuman attaché with the Russian embassy," Fleur told Set, her voice perfectly even. "He's currently working with the Freedom League, but he's not a member." She looked around at the ruined street. "Your entrance has made something of a mess of the downtown," she added mildly. "Is that something you can put right again?" 

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"Psst," Set whispered loudly, leaning toward Frost and covering the side of his mouth with one hand in a gesture that did absolutely nothing to prevent his boisterous voice from carrying, "I think she is giving you 'the cold shoulder'. Eh? Haha!" Reaching over he adjusted the lapels of the Russian's suit in a familiar way. "We shall be pals this time around, I foresee it!"

At Fleur's gentle admonishment, he looked about the street, considering. "Hmm. I am not really a 'return to order' sort of god," he admitted, rubbing his chin and sending dark red dreadlocks bouncing about. After a beat, the youth raised one hand dramatically. In response a sudden gust of wind whipped up, circling around the affected area tossing minor debris up into the air. The garbage and bits of street collected together into a funnel of whirling wind which maneuvered over to a nearby garbage bin before disappearing and leaving the detritus to fall in a tidy heap.

Looking extremely pleased with himself, Set made another gesture and a strong breeze responded by knocking shut the door of a car left open when its driver had retreated from the scene. Unfortunately the force of the wind was enough to set off the sedan's screeching alarm system. "Gah! By Ra's right buttock!" Recoiling in surprise, the godling brought both hands up in an arcane, clawed movement. Beneath the offending vehicle, shadow writhed and came to life, extending upward in ribbons which quickly enveloped the car in a perfect sphere of utter darkness... through which the blaring alarm could still be heard. "...the contraption started it," Set insisted to the gathered heroes.

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"This is...this is delightful!" said Frost, suddenly breaking out in a smile that was somewhere on the border between kind and unkind. "You are shrunken, and it is marvelous! Forgive me earlier," he said with a wave, "I remembered the Set of old, you know, the all-conquering destroyer who wanted to see the Sun devoured by his serpentine master. Should I treat that coming with anything but alarm? But you are...not alarming." He waved at the car. "Think nothing of it. Technology has advanced too fast these many years. As for my name, I am Comrade Frost," he said with a shrug. "I am too frozen in my ways to change with every hot gust of political change. And why would I call myself other? Are you any less Set for what you are now?"  


To the others, he said, "I knew Set the Destroyer of old. He would lie, he would cheat, he would steal, he would...well, I am no old woman to gossip, but you know the stories." He looked around at the cratered street and the still-shadow-wrapped car. "But never this. This sort of deception was beyond his reach, even when he did pretend to be young and weak. I have seen the power in his soul. I knew him well and saw his aura enough to recognize it today. This is Sutekh himself, but diminutive. What a fine day this has become. Is Horus shrunken as well?" he inquired. With his light-wielding powers and holy weapon, Horus the Avenger had not been a favorite of Frost among American superheroes. 

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Set maintained the sphere of shadows around the noisy car for another few beats as he mulled over Frost's reaction. "So. You're saying I am shorter, then." Sighing heavily, the youth let the vehicle's shadow return to its normal, two dimensional shape as the car's alarm finally died away. "Apparently I am a good foot or two less Set. How... irritating." Brushing dreadlocks with the back of one hand distractedly, he stewed over that.

"As for my brother, I cannot say." Cupping his hands around his mouth he shouted upward toward the clouds which had remained dark and dangerous looking since his arrival, "No one wished to speak with me!" In response a rumble of thunder that sounded suspiciously like the roar of a massive cat boomed forth, accompanied by flashes of golden yellow lightning that began building in a familiar manner. "...oh drat," Set commented with a nervous look, conspicuously attempting to place himself behind Frost or Tiamat.

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By this time, news had spread to Riverside about the lightning bolt that had touched down right in the middle of Pyramid Plaza, as well as the young man who had walked right out of it. Even in a city like Freedom, that wasn't something that happened every day. Eric LaCroix waited for the last few minutes of his shift to burn up, then took off out the back. Along the way, he made a quick stop over in Duat to retrieve his costume from one of Osiris's rear chambers, and soon, Nick Cimitiere was walking the streets. The Pale Horse was still halfway across town, at its usual hiding place; he'd just have to walk. 


Several blocks later, Nick saw he wasn't alone in checking out the incident. He recognized Fleur and Gaian Knight checking out the youth, as well as some woman he hadn't met and a man with a serious taste for white. Wait a minute, isn't that... holy crap, it is! Heard he was in Freedom. Can't believe I haven't run into him before... But it was the kid who was drawing the brunt of his attention. Swear he looks familiar... but where?


He walked over towards the group, figuring that the best way to find out would be to ask directly. "Hey there!" he said. "Welcome to the mortal firmament. You got your papers in order?" His question was quickly cut off by the roar - quite literally the roar - of thunder overhead. "And, uh... are you traveling alone?" 

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Tiamat clearly wasn't sure what to make of Set's response to her deliberate verbal prodding; she was almost certain that she ought to be insulted by the idea that she was somehow favored by such a being - that it should have meaning to her! - but his cheer was infectious and the corner of her mouth turned up despite herself. "My favor is earned, little god," she cautioned as he attempted to hide, but her tone wasn't quite as displeased as she'd intended.

Gaian Knight, for lack of someone attempting to conceal themselves behind his frame, had turned his eyes skyward as soon as the roar was heard. "....might need to make that paperwork a double, Nick," he said, putting his hands in his coat pockets to await...whatever it was that was on its way. "And I just repaired the street, too...."

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Fleur gave Nick a quick smile of greeting, but most of her attention was drawn to the gathering, roaring stormcloud overhead. Apparently the sky was not done unleashing godly capriciousness on the city just yet. She rolled a seed between her fingers, growing it into a thin vine that stretched onto the ground and wound its way towards her companions. The civilians in the area, most of them natives of Freedom City and no dumb cookies, had long since vacated the area, but a quick escape route was always a handy thing to have. "Whoever you are," she called to the sky, "we'd appreciate it if you'd lay off the lightning strikes! Everyone's already very impressed, but it's doing a lot of damage to the city!" 

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"Yes, yes, hail and so forth," Set responded to Nick with a distracted wave of his hand, ducking down a little bit. "Apologies, oh verdant matron. Tis unlikely to be a subtle arrival."

The diminished god's prediction proved to be correct, if not in the way the assembled heroes expected. The leonine thunder continued to build in fury as the clouds whipped into a cyclone that opened in the middle to allow a column of sunlight to pass through. Lightning continued to crackle about the ring of storm clouds as the light pouring down to the street continued to intensify, taking of an impossibly golden hue and rising to blinding levels. Then, just as suddenly as Set's appearance had been, the light vanished and a wave of displaced air as hot as desert winds crashed into the faces of the onlookers.

Standing with regal poise in the center of the partially repaired cracks was six feet of lithe, muscularly toned woman. A similar garment to the one Set wore extended up to wrap around her bust while leaving powerful looking shoulders and calves bare. Unlike the elaborate gold adornment of the shorter godling she restrained herself to a simple ankh pendent on a leather cord about her neck. On side of her jet black hair was shaven close to her scalp while the other was long enough to curve around to her chin, shot through with a distinctive tawny streak. Her one visible eye burned like a golden ember in an expression echoed by the snarl on her lips. "SET!"

When the heroes looked back they found the teenage lord of chaos now clad in an oversized 'I <3 FC' t-shirt and a Comets baseball caps, whistling loudly and avoiding looking in the new arrival's direction. That didn't slow her down for an instant as she stalked over with dangerous grace and immediately grasped the collar of his novelty shift and lifted him off of the ground. "Oh! Sekhmet!" he greeted with feigned surprise. "What a surprise!"

"Tis not where you were meant to arrive, liesmith!" the statuesque goddess accused angrily, exposing pronounced canines and looking very close the throttling the object of her fury right then and there.

"Tis!" Set protested, snapping his fingers so that the tourist clothes disappeared and allowed him to drop back to the street where he dusted himself off and reasserted some of his dignity. "Behold! A pyramid, as Ra himself decreed!" He pointed upward at the Plaza.

Glancing briefly upward, Sekhmet snarled again, "In Giza!"

"Was that his meaning?" Set asked, placing the fingers of one hand upon his bare chest and looking taken aback. "A simple misunderstanding!"

"My claws shall have a misunderstanding with thine throat, betrayer!" the goddess threatened, taking another step toward the retreating youth.

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Frost, at least, seemed to recognize the leonine interloper. "She Who Mauls! How delightful to see you as well among the mortals." And no Horus in sight? Are we to be denied him as a teenager? Ah, life is full of many small tragedies. Comrade Frost put his hands in his ample pockets and held back a chuckle at great effort. Ah, young people. "Whatever grudge you have with this young fellow, you should not be solving it here. League would happy to transport you both to Giza, I am sure. It..." He hesitated, then admitted, "Though you know, I had some fun at Sutekh's expense, but if some disaster has intervened to transform Helipolitans into adolescents, we will offer you what assistance we can." Frost shrugged, all cold mist to Sekhmet's desert heat. 

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Sekhemt turned to Frost as though noticing the mortal heroes for the first time. The use of one of her many titles seemed to take the edge off of her immediate fury as she straightened to her full, imposing height and looked the white clad draugr over. "Who is this?" she demanded.

"He's Russian," Set supplied, surreptitiously tiptoeing a little further away. "You would love it. Harsh climate, humourless, comically strong alcohol. You could go visit! I shall wait." The godling clapped his hands with a winning smile.

Narrowing her eyes, the taller deity looked back to her target. "You shall not leave my sight, enemy of all!" she insisted, pointing a finger meaningfully in his direction. Addressing the others present, she continued, "I am Sekhmet, Lady of Slaughter and the Eye of Ra tasked with watching this camel dung in his exile."

Seeming to forget his trepidation, Set stomped forward with an outraged cast to his features at that. "Hold, Sekhmet, that shall not-"

"You are the mortal realm's champions, then?" the goddess continued ignoring his objection entirely. Glancing from hero to hero she nodded curtly. "It then falls to me to prove this diminished form's suitability for my duty."

Drawing up short, Set narrowed his eyes as he realized what she was getting at. "Hold. Sekhmet--"

"I shall face one of you in mortal combat, naturally."

"Sekhmet. Sekhmet, nay."

Considering the heroes appraisingly she settled on Gaian Knight. "You, tall one, with the blade. You look a worthy test. Draw thine weapon."

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It took Gaian Knight a moment to process that, and Tiamat was no help - she threw her head back and laughed, a full-body show of amusement that put her own prominent set of canines on display. "I like this one!"

"That's really not encouraging," Gaian Knight pointed out. "No offense, miss, but I'm not that great with this sword, and I think we'd all rather avoid a fight to the death. I'm pretty sure nobody's questioning your ability to do your job - certainly not with an entrance like that. You don't have anything to prove to us."

"Boring, even if you are a terrible swordsman." Tiamat looked awfully disappointed, and took a moment to size the dark-haired goddess up. "...heck, if we aren't playing for keeps, I'll fight her."

"I'd really rather you didn't."

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Nick held up his hands - both of them, just in case Sekhmet might take just one as an offer to step up. "Hey, hey, wait," he said. "Sekhmet... She Who Mauls, The One Before Whom Evil Trembles... no one is doubting your credentials. You made the people of the world quake with fear, believing that you might rend them all with your mighty claws. Your new form no doubt carries might within it, and your reputation precedes you by miles. You've proven your might a hundred times before, and nobody among us doubts you. There's no need to kill to prove your pedigree." 


He smiled. "I mean, a friendly bout might work, but I don't think we need to go all gladiatorial here..."

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"There's not going to be any fighting today," Fleur said firmly, still hoping against hope that this entire business could be kept from spiraling out of control. She stepped forward to stand by Gaian Knight, suddenly looking absurdly small next to the towering Sekhmet. "We don't need any proof that you can do your job, but it would be great if we could get a few explanations. What I'm gathering is that Set here is not new to Earth, but he's been gone for quite some time, and he's not back by choice. You've been assigned to look after him and keep him from getting into trouble while he's exiled here?" she ventured. "What was the crime he was exiled for? How long is the punishment?" 

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Sekhemt met frowned but looked more confused than upset as she considered the objections of the assembled heroes. "You seem a squeamish lot for champions, save the red one," she commented, looking down at Fleur as though trying to decide if some sort of elaborate prank was being played upon her.

"Mortal champions, Sekhmet," Set reminded her, evidently abandoning his hopes of evading his supervisor in favour of minimizing how badly she could embarrass him in front of the locals and walking over to stand next to her. "Bar true threats, they typically aim to put off their inevitable ends."

"...tis not unreasonable," the warrior goddess admitted after come thought. Looking frankly put out by that, she returned Tiamat's appraising look. "We might still brawl for lesser stakes, then?"

"Perhaps later," Set quickly interjected, throwing a reassuring smile in Gaian Knight's direction that didn't quite accomplish any reassurance. "Truly, though, I object to the term 'exile'. Who would choose stuffy Heliopolis over this realm!"

Snorting flatly with an oddly feline sound, Sekhmet folded her arms across her chest. "And what word would you use for 'barred from reentry,' deceiver? His crime, tiny one, is no less than being Set. Would-Be Pharaoh of Evil, Betrayer of Osiris, Foe of Horus." Her lips pulled back angrily across gleaming teeth. "And so duty requires me to follow, leaving the greater balance of my power behind for the sake of thine ridiculous Pact."

"Slander!" interjected Set, throwing his arms up in the air and glaring back up at Sekhmet despite their height difference. "I don't even recall most of what you would charge me with. It matters not, however!" Sniffing haughtily he regained his broad grin. "I have designs, to prove my good intent! With the supreme talent and phenomenal power which is my right I shall become the mortal realm's greatest hero!"

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"You both are simply delightful," said Frost, clapping his gloved hands together. "I only wish this day had come years ago. You will pardon their manners, I hope," he said to the actual Freedom League members, "gods do not have the experience of  mortal world to know enough of mortal politeness. There must have been great crisis above for Set and Sekmet to so descend; even Horus had to come long way back in old times." He hmmed, putting a hand on his chin. "Porheps it would be better to take them to Freedom Hall, or the satellite above it, so that they can tell their story in more detail. Boy Set can tell us his plans to be a great hero, and Sekmet can tell us what he has lately done." 

He turned to Nick Cimiterie and his eyes lit up. "Ah, delightful, delightful. So I am not only practioner on scene, eh? Tell me, Nick, what do you think of this turn of events?" 

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Now that Nick didn't have to deal with the possibility of being challenged to a duel to a death, he had time to process just who had shown up on the scene. Set. As in "chopped up Osiris and played scavenger hunt with his remains" Set. I knew he was here for a while in the Sixties; thought he got called back to Heliopolis to answer for all that. He looked the apparent godling up and down. And I don't remember anyone saying anything about him being pint-sized. Now, this could be a trick - and I kinda doubt that's the first time anyone's said that about Set - but I kinda doubt that Sekhmet would be the kind of goddess to turn this into a two-man con. And given the magic boiling off of her, odds are that is Sekhmet and not some divine imitator. So...


He nodded. "I'm not entirely sure," he said, "but I know what it's like to deal with a bad reputation based on folklore. Couldn't hurt to hear him out." 

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Fleur gave Set an encouraging smile. "I'm sure you'll be a great hero if you are really determined to be one," she told him. "It takes a lot of hard work, but I'm sure you can put your past behind you and become something much better. In the meantime, though," she continued, "there are some practicalities to consider. Do you have a place to stay, or a secret identity set up for yourself? If you can't go back to where you come from, you'll be staying here for awhile, I imagine. The Freedom League can help you get started out while you're still finding your feet. You can also get some training in how to be a hero, if you think that will help you." She still didn't know entirely what was going on, but the fact that Comrade Frost was determined to make fun of the young man just made her more determined to be nice. 

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"You might also want the chance to test your new limits," Gaian Knight suggested, as amiable as Fleur now that Tiamat wasn't about to start a god-versus-dragon brawl in the middle of what would normally be a busy street. "You seemed surprised at your new, shorter form - I'd wager you're a little bit less, ah, godly than you might be used to, as well. It wouldn't hurt for you and us to get a better idea of what you're capable of right now."

Tiamat had rolled her eyes when Set initially intervened, but now she was looking suspiciously interested again. "So we could throw down."

Her partner winced behind the cloth that covered his lower face. "Not out here, at the very least. And I'm sure there's a better way than you and a god trying to punch each other." Tiamat didn't look like she believed him, though, and he didn't sound much like he'd expected her to.

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