[Other FULL] Λtlantis Λwakening [IC] [M]

[Quest]

The Museum of Cairo, Cairo, Egypt

November 12th, 2012

"I guess I'll be Reaper or something, " said Thayne as he looked at Otto, ignoring the attitude behind Imogen's words. He couldn't understand what her problem was with everyone. Was she always like that or just on missions? Part of Thayne didn't want to find out, staying away from her seemed to be the best option. Of course, he couldn't really do that now. "It looks like it's our turn, Otto," he said in Adeline's direction. Talking to her would probably be better than thinking about Imogen's personality or even the stupid alias he had chosen. Why was the Grim Reaper the first thing to come to mind? Sure, it was related to his powers, but really? How bad was a name like Reaper?

"We're just taking out the cameras, right?" he asked.

"Yes." Adeline nodded. That was all Imogen had mentioned. Taking out cameras so that they would be 'unseen' when leaving with the box.

Thayne nodded back at the girl. Ok, talking to her may not be a fun thing either. "Let's head in then," he said, opening the door to the van. For once a museum seemed to catch his interest more than another person. Not even checking if Otto was behind him, he moved towards the building. He honestly didn't know what to expect when he walked in. Something different from the normal? In all honesty, it looked like any other big museum. It had the usual high arches, large exhibits, and even the occasional bench.

"Two people please?" Asked Thayne once he reached the front desk. Hopefully, Otto was behind him.

"No problem." The woman said with a heavy accent. She gave him a price, to which Thayne gave her the money that Imogen had given him previously. She replaced the money in his hand with two tickets and his change, gesturing him to the rest of the museum. "Thank-you. Welcome to the Cairo Egyptian Museum. The next tour will leave at 4:30pm at the sign just there, but feel free to view all the exhibits." She gave him a smile before returning her attention to the next customer, cueing Thayne and Adeline to move on. Adeline stuck close to Thayne as he walked past the barriers, but with enough space between them that he would not accidentally bump into her. Her eyes glazed past the exhibits, obviously uninterested. She had seen this all before, countless times.

Feeling Adeline close to him, Thayne began to look for the cameras Imogen had told them about. For the most part, the four in the main hall appeared to be the odd, domed kind that hung from the ceiling and odds were, the rest were the same as well. "So, what do you think is in the Box?" Thayne said to her as he continued to look above them, ignoring the many exhibits. "I mean, the myth says hope, but that's not really what's in it, is it?"

"Hope could be many things." Adeline said, her eyes darting from camera to camera. "But nobody knows what is in the box but Pandora and those who came before." She turned back to Thayne, her face plain and static. She wasn't too used to being asked questions, but she wasn't annoyed or bothered with answering them either.

Thayne nodded as he look towards her emotionless face. She did have a point. Hope could literally be anything. A weapon? A tool? They would just have to find out apparently. "Is there any reason you're helping us get the Box? Most of the people seemed like they never met you, so you're obviously not a part of the AUP." I guess that's a reasonable question, he thought as they turned the corner. For the most part, the exhibits seemed to go unnoticed to them as they looked for the cameras. There was easily three or four down this hall.

"No, I am the Librarian's daughter. He was the one that told Mr. Bernot and Mr. Cooper about the box and sent me to Lindholm to assist with retrieving the box." She looked at exhibit in front of her, to Thayne, then back. "Don't look so obvious."

He nodded before looking away from the ceiling. "The Librarian?" he asked curiously. He had heard Oakley mention him before and others didn't seem surprised to hear his name. "Sorry, if I'm asking so many questions. Everything is just so different from what it was before all of this."

"Yes." Adeline gave a short nod. "The world has changed. But for better or for worse... I'm... unsure." The phone in her pocket made a noise and Adeline pulled it to her ear. It was Imogen.

"You can come in now. Not all at once, obviously." Obviously she had expected them to stay outside the entire time, which hadn't happened with either groups, briefly spotting the other two boys entering shortly before themselves. A small buzz came from her phone. Somebody had left their radio on, albeit the sound from the other end was muffled. Adeline noted to pay attention to it, incase there was any yelling of sorts.

"They are, aren't they?" He asked rhetorically, ignoring Imogen. They didn't need her to tell them to do their job. Adeline was right though. There were Atlanteans living just like them, but on the other hand, there were many who were using their abilities to wreak havoc. Only time would be able to tell how things would end up. "So, if this Box is so important, why is this place so quiet? A lot of Atlanteans haven't necessarily been discreet from what I've seen. It's like the majority of them wanted to be known."

"There aren't many who know of the box's location, let alone its actual existence. It is better this way." They trod on to the next room, her eyes quickly scanning for cameras. There was one less in this one than the last one. Was it a less important room? "If the inside is as important as they say, it could be fatal in the wrong hands."

"I guess you're right," he answered as he scanned the room. For the most part, things were going smoothly on their end and it didn't seem like any of the other groups were having problems. It was good to be able to ask questions with someone, even if Adeline wasn't really much of a talker. Her answers weren't always wordy, but they did make their point. "So are you and the Librarian apart of the AUP? No one really said, but most of them seemed to recognize his name. "

"My father and I have no affiliation with anybody. He only seeks knowledge." Adeline heard some rambling on her phone and picked it up, reciting a set of numbers the Librarian had told her before. "Two, One, One, Two, Two, Zero, One, Two."

"Your father better not have duped us." She ignored the comment, staring at the phone.

"Is it almost time?" Thayne asked upon hearing the sequence of numbers. He could only guess it was a code or combination for something. Was it for the Box?

"They must be close. Wait a moment." Adeline held it still for a moment, estimating how long it would take Imogen to find the box. There was a light buzz coming from her phone before Imogen's voice returned.

"Yo, Mutt and Brimstone. Time to start making a scene. Otto and Reaper, start taking out cameras. Preferably ones that will mask our exit. The door to the archive is just past the cloakroom, you'll see Knight there. When you're done, she'll let you through the door."

Adeline nodded at Thayne, leading the way to the cloakroom, spotting Oakley sitting at a seat just outside a security locked door. When they locked eyes, Oakley lifted her head then instantly turned away, remembering that they were separated and she wasn't meant to recognise them. Adeline went to a small exhibit and pretended to look interested as Thayne went to the one opposite of her's, waiting on Devon and Dom's call.

They just needed the others to start the diversions and then they could begin.

"Your turn guys. I guess it's pretty obvious from the alarms, though." Devon's voice came thorugh the radio. As soon as the pair heard the fire alarm over head, they began their part of the mission. One by one, the cameras began to lose sight of the area as they were covered by either spider webs or dark matter. Within only a minute or two, a path to the Emergency Exit was cleared. If all went as planned, that would be all they needed, but that definitely didn't mean it would be easy.

"All cameras covered." Adeline spoke into her phone/radio. "Heading in now."

"Klepto is waving like an idiot at you once Knight lets you in." Imogen's voice replied.

Oakley was easily spotted, the only one not panicking and heading for the door amidst the chaos. She pulled out a card from her pocket and swiped it through the door to the archives. A green light and a high pitched beep told them they could enter.​

 

[Skymin]

The Museum of Cairo, Cairo, Egypt

November 12th, 2012

Dom had never been to Cairo before or anywhere in Africa for that matter. The first thing he noticed was that it wasn't as hot as he expected it to be. It was still too warm for the jacket and scarf he was wearing earlier, but not the scorching temperatures it's been made out to be. Imogen, as she never seemed to fail to do, began talking in her irate manner. A way of talking that annoyed Dom personally. She had the nerve to call him something as stupid and childish as "hot face" (she could at least gone with Pyromaniac) and went on to expect him to call her Queen of all things. If she thought he was calling her Queen she was absolutely insane. In fact, with the way she acted, he had no interest to help out at all. But it had been a long day and all of their little missions had him desparate just to get this over with and go home. Dom opened up his radio phone and entered the codenames of everyone in their group (though for some he elected to express his creative differences and put down something completely different). When they finished he offered up his own codename: Brimstone.

"Êtes-tu prêt à aller?" Dom asked, not very interested in sticking around and chatting.

"Voulez-tu aller maintenant?" Devon raised an eyebrow, his arms already crossed. He seemed just as unimpressed with this mission as his new companion was.

Dom nodded. "Let's go," he continued in French, feeling much more confortable than he did when speaking English. Their transactions finished, Dom left the group and entered the museum. The inside was air conditioned and felt like a welcome breeze, though it was a bit on the chilly side. The museum was beautifully made; high arches, large exhibits, and a display in every corner, even the ceiling! It didn't slack in showing the history and discoveries of Egypt, as well other things from around the world. At the counter Devon pulled out the money Imogen had given them previously to the lady at the counter asking for it. They were handed a pair of tickets, welcomed, and then ushered into the main hall. Devon usually would have wanted to stick around and look at the exhibits, but he realised now was definitely not the time, since they were going to rob this place.

"Do you like museums?" Devon said, still in French. His eyes wandered around, looking for... something. They were meant to be looking for a place to start a distraction but there were cameras and people everywhere. Somewhere like underneath a camera might be ideal, but the people? Maybe if they just pulled a switch and made the fire alarms go off? Start something in the toilet? Take the power out entirely? Ugh.

"I don't mind them," Dom answered, "but I'm much more excited about science museums." History and archeology were fine and all, but science was really where his interests lie. Still, Dom didn't pass up the chance to look at the exhibits as they passed by, smiling at the sight of a few excited school kids in a tour. Devon followed Dom's eyes, raising his eyebrows at the scene.

"So uh, did you go to like university or college before, like," he gestured to them both, "this?"

Dom nodded. "Yeah, I go to," Dom paused and corrected himself,"I went to UPS." The college wasn't too far away from the AUP Headquarters. If Devon was living there it was likely he knew where it was. It didn't occure to him until now that with the way things were going his college career-- for the time being--had been postponed if not completely ended. Though after the all-too-fresh memory of Paris and Toulouse's close proximity classes had most likely been postponed anyways. Even if they hadn't (which he couldn't imagine why they wouldn't) it was likely that anyone who knew him on campus thought he was dead. Something told him that Lucien didn't spread the news of his return. "Did you?"

Devon shook his head, smiling. "Dad pulled me out of school when my tattoo appeared and 'homeschooled' me since then. And that was like... a year, a year and a half ago? Like the end of troisième." Maybe it was in the holidays, he couldn't remember that well. It had been a busy year. "I would have liked to go to High School but Dad said it wouldn't be a good idea, especially since uh, he didn't know. But I'd be in première this year, I think." His eyes glazed over the exhibits once more, trying to think of what exactly Imogen thought a distraction might entail. "What did you study?"

"I was working to get a medical degree, but it looks like I'll be putting that off for a while." He hoped this would all end soon enough, though. The back-to-back missions were getting to him. "And you got your tattoo a year and a half ago?" Getting his tattoo a couple weeks ago wasn't an old memory and then as well as now he thought that there hadn't been any Atlanteans until that moment. "How long have Atlanteans been around?"

"Uh," Devon looked up and to his left, trying to think. It had been such a long time, the whole Atlantean thing seemed more natural to him than it did to Dom. Like being in a new house or a new job for a year. It was new, but not that new. "Well, I didn't know about them before then. I thought my dad worked for a importing company and then when I got my tattoo, he kind of dropped it on me. So, as far as I know, they've been around for a while. The Royal Family have kind of been in secret for a long time and then there's people like the Librarian who are meant to be thousands of years old."

Thousands of years old? Dom looked at Devon like he was insane. Even with the chaos of the last few days, it was hard to believe someone could live longer than ninety or one hundred. He could see the image of a decrepit old man slowly sorting and categorizing all of the books and ancient scrolls detailing the legacy of the Atlanteans. The name did sound familiar, but he didn't recall seeing anyone who looked a thousand years old. He searched his mind for the name. It had something to do with Oakley... A helicopter... Wait a minute. "Do you mean Franklyn!?" Now Dom was a little freaked out. Franklyn didn't look anywhere near thousands of years old. He remembered thinking Franklyn's mention of Bismarck a little strange, but now... "Is that his power? And there are more like that?"

"Full Atlanteans are immortal, apparently," Devon shrugged and shook his head. "No, his is meant to be some ability absorbing one. He's meant to have like thousands of abilities that he can use whenever he wants. And yeah, I know of one others. There's a lady with the Royal Family called the Oracle and she's apparently a full Atlantean as well. There's not much about her on the database other than that she makes weird predictions that don't make any sense. I think my dad met her once. When he was with the Royal Family."

Dom relfexively looked at his watch while Devon spoke about Franklyn. Obviously there was more to the man that met the eye and something was telling Dom he needed to find out more. Dom's wonder turned into displeasure at the mention of the Royal Family. "He was apart of that?" Just talking about the Royal Family left a bad taste in Dom's mouth. And the AUP having anything to do with them? It made him feel sick. "Let's talk about something else. Do you know a lot about Franklyn?"

"Well, I know that he changes his name everyday. So it's probably not Franklyn anymore. That and he can pretty much do anything. He helps the AUP sometimes when he feels like it, though it kinda feels like he does it for fun rather than because Dad needs the help." Devon shrugged again. "I've met him once or twice. He made some weird jokes and said some weird things. I don't know. He's a weird guy. Nobody knows a lot about him."

"His name isn't Franklyn?! What is his name then?" Just from what Devon said, learning about Franklyn--or maybe it was just best to call him Librarian--was going to be a ground up kind of situation. If he couldn't even get his name how easy was it going to be to get the rest of this information?

Devon shrugged and went to open his mouth to continue, before a voice spoke from their phone-radios. "You can come in now. Not all at once, obviously." Obviously they were meant to hang back and wait for her call, but whatever. They were inside now. Who cared.

"Are we meant to find some kind of distraction now?" Devon looked around the room bleakily. They could topple an exhibit? Maybe pin it on someone else while they made a getaway. It might work, though it didn't help that there were people around to see them.

Dom looked around the museum to find anything that might give him inspiration for a nice distraction, but it wasn't inspiration he found. Instead Dom's eyes landed on a woman who had either given up on life or was suffering from a brain disease based off of what she was wearing. She was looking at one of the exhibits, but all Dom could see were the beige uggs, checkered pants, and a pink halter top. He didn't know what was worse, the black, white, and red checkers or the uggs. It was probably the uggs. Anyone who looked at Dom would see an expression that was half horrified, half disgusted. If anything needed to be burned it was that. "How about tha--" Dom didn't have time to finish his sentence before the woman's clothing went up in flames. Dom felt like he'd looked at the enflamed woman for hours before she (and the people around her) finally screamed. She ran from the exhibit, bringing all sorts of attention to herself as she flapped her arms around in a futile attempt at extinguishing the flames. Dom's face had gone one hundred percent horror. He couldn't think of a thing to say or a thing to do. Absolutely nothing. His mind had completely frozen.

Devon's eyes followed Dom's own and physically yelped when the lady in front of him spontaneously combusted. He was about to run in and help put her out, but stopped himself, conflicted between trying to stop someone from burning and completing their part of the mission. His eyes went wider as her flames caught on the delicate exhibit next to her, immediately catching as if it was made of gasoline. The people around her began to scream and jump back from her, all the while the flames on the exhibit were catching to the next. The alarms began to go off as Devon watched in terror, people all around him heading for the doors while this poor woman was doing the worst attempt at stop drop and roll Devon had ever seen.

"Why did you set a person on fire?!" he hissed, yanking Dom on the arm to snap him from his trance. He was glad one of the guards had run over to her with a fire extinguisher but the flames on the exhibit had spread much too far for him to attempt to put them out. "Let's go!"

"But I..." Dom was out of his trance, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the scene, "I didn't mean to--" In the middle of his sentence, the flames rose powerfully. They burned faster, raged with more strength, and it was in that sudden boost that made Dom finally look away. "Let's go," he said, turning and leaving without looking at Devon.

Devon followed, hoping he was heading in the direction of the cloak room. He pulled out his phone and switched to Thayne and Adeline's line. "Your turn guys. I guess it's pretty obvious from the alarms, though." He tucked it back into pocket, spotting Oakley standing and trying to look worried. She spotted them, quickly pulling something out of her pocket as they drew near. The room was almost empty as she swiped the door, the civilians too busy trying to escape rather than notice the three disappear behind the door.​

 

[Retro Bug]

The Museum of Cairo, Cairo, Egypt

November 12th, 2012

Oakley, Devon and Dom were last to make their way inside, Oakley shutting the door behind her as instructed by Imogen. The commotions outside could be heard from the room, though they were a whisper compared to being in the actual museum. Imogen presented the box, waving her hands around it like she was one of those girls on The Price is Right before beckoning Delta and Oakley over.

"Alright muscles, lets try and open this can of worms." She gestured to the box, letting Oakley step up to it and feel the box. It was smooth wood with all kinds of different markings indented into it. With a closer inspection, they kind of resembled the kind of style of the Atlantean tattoos she had seen, including her own. Imogen gestured to the box yet again and Oakley let the armour take her right arm to her elbow and with a mighty swing, punched down onto the box.

"Urgh!" The box wood made a thud, but otherwise was unaffected. Oakley's hand however, throbbed for the first time ever in its armoured state. It felt like she was punching a cement wall. Impatient as always, Delta waited for Oakley step out of the way so that she could move into the proper position. She already had a feeling this wouldn't work, well, more than a feeling. The one item that would correctly do the job was hanging around her neck, but the warning Simon had gave made her hestiate. Surprisingly or perhaps unsurprisingly Delta wasn't ready for a burden like death and destruction. Hooking her fingers beneath the bottom of the lid was easy, the resistance she was met with was a force to be reckoned with.

"You have the key to the box." Adeline pointed a finger directly at the green key around Delta's neck. Imogen shot a look at Delta, then glared at Adeline, as if she had done something wrong.

"Why does she have the key?" she turned back to Delta. "Why do you have the key? Where did you get it?"

Attitude was all Imogen responded with, however, this was not a new occurrence. All the jabs and jokes, Imogen didn't think highly of her and that was a fact Delta could live with. She supposed that had she been in Imogen's shoes she would've done the same had The Librarian given it to someone like Thayne. Ways in which Delta could play this were endless, but there was also little time to pick out one of those many possibilities. First and foremost, she backed out of Imogen's lunging range and clasped her right hand over the key almost instinctively. "Guess some people are more deserving," Delta shrugged. It was a good question and she was going to ask The Librarian that exact question the next time he graced them with his presence, which she expected would be soon. Though, there was a question that tugged at her, of all people to trust this with, why her? Not that she wasn't deserving, Delta was superior to all those in the AUP and the ARF wasn't even worth mentioning. The Librarian had called her intrusive even if that wasn't a lie the manner in which he said it had been negative. At this point she only had the knowledge Simon told her to work with to get what the answers she wanted, Delta spoke at both Imogen and Otto, "What's really in here?" The fact that she was still in the guard's uniform was also making this situation uncomfortable.

Imogen made a face and ignored Delta's questions, turning back to Adeline. "Where did she get the key? Why didn't you tell me about this before? If this some more of your father's garbage destiny crap, I swear to God you won't be leaving here alive."

"She was entrusted the key because Delta Mayor is the one who has to open the box." She turned to look at Delta. "You are the only one who can open the box."

"This is some A-class bullsh*t right here, you better explain yourself now." Imogen looked furious, but Adeline continued to stare at Delta. When Adeline didn't reply, Imogen threw her arms up in frustration and disgust, growing more impatient by the second. "We don't have time for this."

Raised eyebrows had become a permanent part of her facial expression throughout that entire exchange. The last time anymore had "entrusted" her with anything was when her grandmother expected her to take care of her plants while she was away and they died. Then there was the whole her being 'the one', whatever the hell that meant. This Otto girl must be on something, crack, heroin, ketamine... Another thing was little miss Imogen was a bit too eager to open this box and the consequences of the opening would be her reputation. Delta could hear it know, 'Oh, so you're the girl who opened the box and everything turned to absolute chaos, thanks for that!' The only thing Delta Mayor wanted was power, why wasn't that easy to obtain? Dealing with things like this only made being an Atlantean that much more difficult and political.

On the flip side the only thing worse than opening the box was not opening the box and wondering what if she had. Who knew what was actually in the box? She hadn't given Simon the chance to explain what he saw. Taking a deep breath in Delta made her way to the box and stared at it. Its presence was alluring and only caused her to hesitate. How did she know she wasn't being tricked into something?

"You're a person of great importance, Delta Mayor." Adeline said, still staring at Delta.

"Shut up!" Just open it already!" Imogen snapped.

The sharpness of Imogen's voice made Delta flinch. She removed her necklace, which contained two other keys that uses did not matter at this moment. With one last curse in Polish she placed in key into box and and turned it feeling the mechanisms of the box unlock. She put the keys into her pocket and placed her hands on the lid, gliding her fingers over the designs before slipping her thumbs under the steel latches that gave it an extra layer of protection. In one swift motion she opened them and then pulled up on the lid of the box.

Everybody had moved behind her to get a look inside the box as she opened it and Oakley made a small gasp as what was inside came to view. Atlantean crystal, a whole lot of it, filled to the brim of the box, but what was more interesting was what the crystal was wrapped around. A small girl, perhaps 8 or 9, was encased in the crystal and though her face was hard to make out, it looked like she was sleeping. Her skin was olive and her hair long and frizzy. Imogen made a sound of physical frustration.

"Are you KIDDING? A KID?! WHAT KIND OF WEAPON IS THIS?!" she kicked a nearby artefact, smashing it against the wall. Oakley frowned at her, exchanging looks between her and the box. She remembered what Imogen had said prior about the box: the only thing left inside was hope. Was... this girl meant to be hope? Was that her ability? Or was it a metaphor? It wasn't exactly something that she could figure out right now, especially since time was not on their side.

It was as if another person had taken control of Delta's body, her arms moved down to touch the crystal. Was this girl alive? How could she be? How were they going to get her out of there? The fact that they didn't have time wasn't lost on her, she closed the lid and deeply sighed. "Thief, give Oakley back her necklace," Delta's voice was stern, she didn't know or care what lit this drive inside her, but with a furious Imogen in their midst and a young girl trapped inside a box she had to take charge. "Now, Oakley, you and I will carry this the best we can. Thayne and Otto can help. Devon, Dom, and Imogen can hold open doors, I guess." Once Delta had finished delegating she nodded to Oakley and together they lifted the box. It dawned on Delta that Oakley could most likely hold this entire relic in one arm, but she had seen Oakley under pressure before, not a pretty picture. If they were going to get out without being a hundred percent detected everyone would need to play a part. Imogen narrowed her eyes at Delta, furious that she had taken charge from her but didn't voice her objections, instead just hung back to watch. Her expression changed, and she sneered, shaking her head at Delta's orders for herself and letting the others do all the work.

Seeing the young child surprised Thayne. To see a child who was locked in a box for who knows how long was enough to do that to a person. How could this girl possibly be a weapon? Who would do this to someone like her? were only some of the questions goinng through Thayne's mind. They had to do something.

Thayne nodded at Del. After what had happened on the plane, he wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to either her or Dom, but there was just something about her sense of compassion that spoke to him. Raising his hands in a lifting manner, he watched as multiple appendages made of the dark matter elevated the box out of the girls' grasp. "I think I got this you guys." He said, surprising even himself, as they prepared for their escape. "You guys just make sure nobody stops us." Odds were, there would be someone waiting for them up top and there was no guarantee they'd be on their side.

Dom had seen and learned about a lot of weird things after he joined the AUP, but this was definitely going at the top of his list. If anything could top it, he didn't want to see it. When he first saw the crystal-child the first thing that popped in his mind was an image of Lucien making a really bad joke about how Tyrion Lannister got stuck in a block of Atlantite. But that was beside the point and the mission. With Thayne doing all the heavy lifting both Devon and Emery were free to open doors while the others walked out of the private sector and then the archives. Minus the people, the museum looked the same way they left it. High arched ceilings, beautiful exhibits, and a room filled with blaring fire alarms and a lot of water on the ground from the sprinklers.

"Did we just ruin an entire museum?" Devon said, wincing at all the artefacts that had been destroyed by water. Some were in glass cases and some hadn't been so lucky. Hopefully they were just replicas.

"I honestly don't think it matters at this point," Thayne answered matter-of-factly. Sure, no one wanted to be there destroying priceless artifacts, but everyone knew they needed the Box and the girl within out of there.

The sprinklers had turned off before they arrived so they only had to step in dirty water, not get drenched in it (though Dom would prefer neither). They made their way to back parking lot, the large glass windows and doors of the front entrance clearly showing the news crews, emergency responders, and leftover distressed patrons outside. With all of the excitement, they could easily leave the museum unnoticed. At least, that would have been true if it weren't for the two museum security guards that were still inside.

"Hey! Who are you!? Stop!" One of the cops called in his heavy accent. Usually Delta was the last one to avoid obeying orders, but this time she would make an exception. Her crystallization spread down her arm faster than it ever had before, she hadn't even had time to blink. The willingness to do whatever she wanted to this guard was particularly strong, she smirked at the sight of the first guard bounding forward towards them. Unfortunately, a puddle of water took care of the guard before she had the chance. It was a sad spectacle indeed. Oakley found herself in front of Delta, the guard scrambling to his feet with an embarrassing patch of muddy water ruining his uniform. He went for the gun (or tazer or whatever was on his hip) and Oakley reacted, trying to concentrate to summon her ability. The armour seemed to obey her whim and suddenly, both of her arms had transformed into their armour-like states. She was surprised - she could never have two arms at once, let alone so quickly. She didn't think too long though, yanking the guard off the floor with one arm and gripping him with the other. He continued to yell and Oakley suddenly panicked; his shouts would probably alert anyone else in the building. So, feeling it was the only thing she was good at, lobbed him across the room, slamming him into another guard entering through the door and somehow pulling said door off its hinges. She winced at his and the other guard's pain, but moreso at the noise he was making. His scream alerted more officers who had been busy doing their own inspection in other rooms or down the hall. Recognized as Atlanteans by now, the remaining guards whipped out their guns.

Instinctively, Thayne closed his eyes and willed several shadowy tendrils to appear from the ground, ripping the guns from out of the enemies hands. Why are things coming so naturally? Is it the girl? It wasn't important then. They just needed to focus on the task at hand. With the guns removed, Dom threw his arms out, large walls of fire igniting as if from the ground immediately. The unquestioned cooperation of his flames surprised Dom, but he knew from experience that losing his focus tended to end in disaster. He pushed the walls slowly to either side of the building, pushing the guards farther away from them and making a path to the back entrance. When they reached the outside Dom dropped the fire, leaving not a mark behind to prove their existence besides the dirty water on the ground now being dirty mist in the air.

Imogen, casually following behind, pulled the keys to the van out from her pocket, pushing the button on the keys to unlock it. There were shouts from behind and a lot of noise coming from the front of the museum and it wouldn't be long until somebody else noticed that they weren't just evacuating the building for a fire. As the rest of the group helped to push the crate in the back of the van, Imogen jumped into the front seat, twisting the key in the ignition to start the car. She lazily leaned her elbow on the window as the others slammed the van's back door, loading themselves into the side door. There was much less room than what there had been on the way there, obviously; Emery and Otto had somehow drawn the short straw and were squeezed up next to the crate. Imogen turned around, grinning at the group.

"Are we all here? Should we do a headcount? Did we want to stop for ice cream?"

"Can you please just drive?!" Devon shouted, looking back out his window as the guards had finally followed them outside the back door. Imogen sighed and rolled her eyes, slowly pulling into gear and hitting the floor, skidding out of their park and back into traffic. Once the museum was out of sight, Imogen slowed right down, driving like a normal person and heading back towards the airport. The half hour passed so slowly, the team still with adrenaline still pumping through them after the chase. The airport was soon approaching and before they knew it, the crate had been loaded onto the plane and when they were climbing aboard, a surprise waiting for them on the plane.

"Hello everyone! How lovely to see you all again!" The Librarian up from his chair, welcoming everyone onto the plane. Imogen scowled at him, completely ignoring him and heading into the cockpit. The Librarian ignored her back, directing his attention at Thayne and Baumann. "And how lovely it is to finally meet you two! My name is the Librarian, but today you can call me Marcus!"

Marcus? Franklyn's or Marcus's or The Librarian's or whoever he is made an entrance that made Dom very uncomfortable from what he'd learned today. Hearing about someone's very clear identity disorder was one thing, but seeing it was just... Awkward. Dom didn't want to be rude and not say anything, but at the same time he didn't know what to say at all. He was standing between a baby trapped in a crystal and a man who seemed like he had a hard time keeping up with his marble. That or he had some kind of strange Atlantean Alzeihmer's that caused him to forget who he was an assume a completely new identity.

"Did you teleport here?" The question slipped out of Dom's mouth, but after he asked he didn't regret asking. But maybe that was an obvious question, Devon did say he had more powers than a person could count.

"I did!" The Librarian smiled, nodding his head, putting a hand on Adeline's shoulder as she took her place next to him. "Well spotted! I would have taken a plane of my own or gone out for a fly but I realised that I wouldn't have caught you all in time. It's a bit of a shame, it's such a nice day today an--"

"Sir." Adeline interrupted him, as Oakley had grown used to from her week with him. She couldn't help pulling a smile; she hadn't seen the two of them together since she left.

"I... Need to sit down." Dom said before getting into one of the plane's many seats.

"It's... Nice to meet you? My name is Thayne," Thayne greeted, albeit halfheartedly, after hearing the answer. It was just a bit surprising to see the man so soon after learning about him. He didn't exactly know that much about him and he didn't know what he could ask without being rude. The only thing he was aware of was that the Librarian was someone who held the answers. "I assume you're Otto's father."

"That's correct! My, you're all so bright. I'm so glad that we'll be sharing this plane together! I missed our chats from our last encounter." His eyes seem to twinkle, as if he was genuinely happy to see them. His smile was contagious and Oakley's own stayed as she found her own seat and buckled herself in. She noticed the crate sitting in the center of the plane, the lid closed but not locked. After he had shaken hands with Thayne and Baumann, he took his own seat, crossing his legs as he made himself comfortable. "How did our mission go? Did you all enjoy yourselves?"

"I don't know if you exactly share the same idea of what enjoyment is." Thayne answered, politely moving past him. The way the other's reacted made it seem like the Librarian, or Marcus, wasn't really the best person to be around, at least not for extended periods of time. Sitting down in one of the chairs near the box for obvious reasons (such as not feeling comfortable about a man who knew where a box containing a child was locked up), he looked at the Librarian questioningly. "Why exactly did you want to be here so fast?" Was it really that important for the man to be here?

The Librarian winked at Thayne's first statement, and clapped his hands together at the second. "Well, I had to come get Adeline to begin with, but I must say, I am going mad with curiosity with what exactly is inside that box. Plus, I very much wanted to meet you and Mr. Baumann here. I do love making new friends!"

"We all know you have the going mad part down," Delta had finally joined in. She had heard bits and pieces of the conversation but most of her attention was focused on the box, which is what she sat close to. With The Librarian here, well, she had a lot of words to say to him. "Can you honestly say you don't have a clue what's in this box? Your pet project told me that I had to open the box and you gave me the key..." Her entire focus was on Marcus or Henry or her personal name, The Mad Hatter.

"Oh, Ms. Mayor, I do enjoy your wit. But, please refrain from insulting Adeline. She has done nothing wrong here." The twinkle in his eyes and his smile disappeared and his face grew serious for a moment before he continued on. "And no. I've only heard stories of what was inside the box; a weapon, hope, wealth but over the course of over two millenia, those who have tried to open the box have only brought misery upon themselves. Those who put the key into the slot and are not a direct decendant of Pandora herself bring disaster." His eyes had not moved from Delta, and he continued. "Usually a natural disaster. The box is laden with an 'anti-Atlantanite' of sorts, and thus is impossible to understand its true nature. But, now the box has been opened, the fail-safe has been lifted. It is now just a box that protects the inside and outside from Atlantean ability."

"So are you saying that she's related to Pandora?" Thayne asked as he looked at Del. "I don't exactly see any disasters going on at the moment." There was just something about The Librarian that made Thayne not like him. Was it his overeagerness? His urge to know exactly what was going on?

"How would you know?" Dom asked after Thayne as he looked at the Librarian. By the way things sounded The Librarian was a walking database of family lineage. Or maybe just Del's. "You haven't been keeping tabs on them have you?"

"Mr. Bisset, I have a plethora of abilities at my disposal, as some might have told you. As soon as she spoke to me, I knew." The Librarian's smile returned.

"But how?" Dom asked again. "Does she look like her?" Or just another power?

"Hm." The Librarian gazed at Delta for a moment before looking back to Dom. "No, Pandora looked much different to Delta. One of my abilities can use a person's voice and connect them to others in their family. It's a good thing I actually knew Pandora, otherwise trying to find her ancestor would have been much trickier."

"So, what you're saying is, you got me to do your dirty work?" Delta chimed, more aggressively this time. It wasn't every day that one found out that they were related to some well-known ancient person. She didn't even know what to do with this revelation of being related to the Pandora. The Librarian knew so much and that always managed to bug her. "Or rather, I did both of you and the AUP's dirty work, I don't like that." The more she thought about it the angrier it made her, The Librarian had used her to get what he wanted and the AUP was willing to go along with it, she wasn't about to let this go. "If Pandora is my fairy grandmother, doesn't this make this my box? Not yours, not Imogen's, not Emil's. Whatever is in this box is... mine." Satisfied with herself she gave him a smug look... Wait, did he just say he knew Pandora...?

The Librarian shrugged. "You are welcome to keep its contents. I'm not restricting you from anything."

Oakley looked at the Librarian, then back to Delta. "We might need his help, though." She would think trying to break out a girl encased in impenetrable crystal safely would need something more fine tuned than a jack hammer or a pickaxe or something.

"Which I am more than happy to lend. I come for knowledge, not for power. I already have enough of those." He chuckled. Delta wasn't happy about this arrangement, but it seemed like the sooner The Librarian got a peek the sooner he would be off. A nod was all she gave him and Oakley and turned away from the conversation.

"Whatever the case, I think it's better that we wait until we've landed to do anything with the box." Thayne decided. "I'm not entirely sure if something that could be as dangerous as you say should be opened on a plane. It would be safer for everyone involved if we did it on solid ground." It was hard to imagine such a small girl being seen as dangerous, but she was an Atlantean. No one knew what she could do. No one knew why she was in there. Thayne looked towards the rest of the group, hoping for some sort of agreement to be made.

"Well, not that anyone cares, but I'm going to start flying this plane now. You can sort out whose toys are whose when we get back." Imogen's voice, still furious, came over the PA as the plane began to run. She obviously wasn't going to waste any time because they had begun to move, and soon after, were in the sky heading home.

* * *

After exiting the plane, they were greeted by a few eager faces, particularly those of Emil and Cooper. The Librarian said his greetings and recieved a hostile hello from Cooper and a distant one from Emil. The Librarian gave a frown, finding his happy greetings hardly returned, but returned his attention to the box as Thayne carried it off the plane, the other juniors by his side. Emery had sunk into the background, Adeline had stuck to the Librarian like glue and Imogen, looking a little less sullen than before, greeted her two superiors, taking a place by their side.

"So, what did we find?" Emil looked to Imogen, then to the juniors. His eyes swept over Devon, glazing over with some kind of disappointment or distance. Whatever it was, it only dampened Devon's mood.

"A girl stuck in some Atlantanite." Imogen said, mirroring Emil's disappointment.

"A girl?" he raised his eyebrows. "In Atlantanite?"

"Did I stutter?" Imogen snapped back. Emil ignored her.

The plane ride back the AUP headquarters only made Delta antsy, like everyone else she supposed. Delta had shed the guard's uniform and was tempted to throw it on Dom that way it would burn. Thayne had once again managed to carry crate inside the base with little to no incidents, though the few times it did happen she almost chewed his head off (much to his dislike). If he was going to be useful it needed to be a hundred percent of the time not ninety-nine point five. There was still one problem Delta hadn't thought of a situation to, how were they go to get the child out without any injuries?

"Any bright ideas on how we do this?" The question was a free for all, but Delta's eyes had landed on The Librarian. She opened the lid of the crest to reveal the girl wrapped in Atlantanite. Thayne also looked at The Librarian. It was certain everyone had come to the conclusion that he was the only one who knew what to do.

"If Franklyn had to be here then I'm thinking he has the only ideas that matter," Dom replied, looking from the box to The Librarian.

"Well," The Librarian looked at all the juniors, "we can all do this together if you want it to take less time. It's going to help all of you a lot since there's so much Atlantanite here. Mr. Clarke, would you be able to pull her out of the box and place her on the floor right here?" The Librarian stood back, turning to Thayne.

Thayne looked at Delta for a moment, waiting for some sort of approval. At this point, he felt she was more the boss than The Librarian. When she nodded he focused onto the Atlantanite itself, slowly lifting it with shadowy tendrils and then setting it carefully on the floor. It made a small thud on the ground, the girl inside lay motionless inside. The Librarian leant down, his arm changing to a blue-green colour, to a texture similar to that of Delta's own gem. They then became sharp, like claws on the ends. He looked up at Delta, giving her a smile.

"I suppose you haven't learned how to do this yet?" He gestured to his hands, beginning to make small incisions on the rock, like a knife onto paper. "Atlantanite is the only thing that can cut Atlantanite. You can try it yourself, if you like Ms. Mayor."

Intrigued by The Librarian's workmanship Delta stepped cautiously toward him to see that he was actually doing a pretty good job. His display of ability caught her interest as well, she couldn't do that, could she? The crystal she shifted into was Atlantanite? Or at least some mutated form of it. Perhaps she wasn't as familiar with her power as she thought she was... Delta shrugged off her jacket unwilling to risk anything getting in her way. Breathing in deeply she concentrated on her arm, regular crystallization was easy enough, she had done that a thousand times at least. Never once had she tried anything beyond that. Hell, she didn't know there was anything beyond that. A few seconds passed before she dared opening her eyes in fear of disappointment. Unlike The Librarian her fingers hadn't turned into claws, no, her fingers had crystallized together like a giant scalpel. Hopefully that was just as good as his.

Sweat beaded her brow as she held onto her forearm with left hand to keep the "surgical instrument" steady. It took a few times for her to correctly do anything, unable to admit that she was a bit nervous cutting away at a crystal structure that was fused around a child. Some of the Atlantanite came off in small, delicate pieces, others in huge chunks. She would need to save some of that for Simon... Aoife. Knowing now was not the time to think of such thoughts she kept whittling away at the crystal until there was a decent amount of it gone. Then she took a break and let out the breath she had been holding, Delta had hardly noticed all the eyes staring on activity, it took concentration to keep her hand formed the way it was. Now, she caught their glances, curiosity lingered in almost everyone's expression.

"Can you do the rest?" Delta spoke softly, she didn't want to hurt the girl, this after all was the most crucial part.

"Of course. Fantastic work, Ms. Mayor." The Librarian smiled back at her. He beckoned Oakley, Devon, Thayne and Dom over. "Mr. Clarke, would you be able to start cleaning up the shards? I'm sure nobody wants to step on any of this, even with shoes on. Mr. Bisset, I know it's not much, but would you be able to heat this up for me?" He reached into his jacket and somehow pulled out a teapot and cups. "This girl has been away for a long time, I assume she would want something to drink." Dom nodded his head and took the tea and cups from the Librarian. "Devon, my boy, please give Mr. Clarke a hand. Oakley, I need you here a moment. See how Ms. Mayor has all her incisions leading to the top? I need you to give that a tap. I'm going to put a force field around this poor girl so none of the shards hurt her when they fall. Alright?"

Thayne began picking up the pieces of Atlantanite with a small nod. Each crystal, either small or large, was picked up and placed where it originated with relative ease. Everyone around, himself included, was worried about the girl. She looked so fragile within the crystal and he definitely had a feeling she would be outside of it. He trusted Del with what she was doing, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel nervous.

Devon moved from his spot, starting to gather pieces of the Atlantanite and placing it back in the box it came from. He turned to the adults standing by; Emil had been watching carefully, as if Delta and the Librarian had been trying to defuse a bomb. Cooper was standing a little further back, trying to seem less interested though his eyes flickering back to the girl said otherwise. Imogen had disappeared to the back of the hanger, sitting on a chair and was reading something on a laptop. Adeline and Emery had not moved from their places, Emery looking and feeling quite awkward while Adeline stood stiffly, staring at the rock but with less interest than Emil.

The past hour had been a bit stressful for Dom, not just because they were stuck in a hangar and it seemed really inappropriate to leave, but the suspense of whether Del would hurt the child or not. There was the ever so frightening too-big-cuts, the terrifying cracks that spread a little too close to the girl, and the all intense moments of precision and silence. The tension made Dom want to go outside and get some fresh air, but he didn't want to risk whatever might come from walking past Del while she worked. They were done now anyway, all it took was that final tap and then who Dom presumed was one of Del's ancestor's would be free. He looked down at the teapot and cup in his hands, trying to avoid the extra stress of seeing what happened next. Dom already felt on edge and was sure his skin was already hot to the touch. As the thought came to him, he remembered the radiating affects of his head and realized he may have been making everyone unnecessarily uncomfortable. Rather than making it hotter, he tried using the excess heat to warm the tea rather than generating his own. That should help things, at least a little bit.

"Alright," Oakley took her place next to the Librarian, her arms already armoured. It must have been the crystal that had helped her back at the museum. It felt so easy now to shift back and forth. She held a fist on top of the crack, waiting for the Librarian's call. He placed his hands forward, cupping them as if he was going to grab the girl when the crystal broke. He gave her a nod and she counted down. "Three, two, one... okay!" She pulled her fist up and thrust down (though not with full force). She felt the crystal shatter beneath her fingers, then broke away. The Librarian flicked his fingers out and the girl was encased in a yellow-tinged bubble, the crystal falling on it instead of her.

Within the bubble, the girl gasped loudly, her eyes shooting open. They were a dark brown, a tad lighter than her hair, and she sat up, coughing viciously. With his other hand, the Librarian swept the crystal beneath her away and pulled off his coat, placing it beneath her. He then gently placed her down and the bubble popped, the girl still coughing. The Librarian beckoned Dom forward with the tea, filling a cup and handing it to the girl. Her eyes lit up and she looked at everyone warily, realising where she was, or perhaps where she wasn't. She began to speak quickly, her voice high but slightly hoarse but the language was unknown to Oakley. It wasn't anything she had ever heard before. The Librarian spoke back to her in this language, much slower and pronounced, his face relaxed and gentle. The girl relaxed a little, but still on guard, inspecting the faces which had appeared around her.

As soon as her eyes locked on Delta's, she skittered to her feet and ran to her side, hugging at her arm, shouting in the language, pointing at the Librarian and looked up at Delta. Oakley gasped as the crystal around Delta's arm disappeared instantly on the girl's touch, returning her arms back to their human form.

"She's from Atlantis, that's for sure. I haven't heard anyone speak the language for so long." The Librarian said, shaking his head. "Poor girl. She's been through some kind of trauma, but she's... not being entirely clear. She's mostly saying stay away or where her mother is." The Librarian spoke again at the girl, his voice now slower and calmer again. The girl looked at her feet, then looked at Delta again and let go of her arm. She spoke, this time less panicked, though Oakley noticed that Delta's power had not returned to her arms yet. "Her name is Elpis." The Librarian continued, and the girl shook her head, grabbing Delta's arm again, the green gem returning. "She won't speak of what happened, but she... senses Pandora in you, Ms. Mayor. Which is strange, because that doesn't appear to be her ability." The Librarian stood up, smiling at the girl. "I can't seem to sense much from her either. She's... different. She's not quite a proper Atlantean, yet she seems to have all the qualities of one."

As The Librarian counted down Delta felt a sudden rush of worry, she wanted to put a stop to the entire thing. What if something went wrong? What if the shield didn't hold up? There were one too many variables that were in this equation and that was making Delta extremely uncomfortable. However, by the time she thought to rush forward Oakley had already shattered the crystal causing Delta to stop dead in her tracks. Suspense was indeed a killer until the olive skinned girl became animated, the sound of coughing had never been something Delta thought she'd be glad to hear. She watched the rest of the events unfold as if it was an outer body experience. From the girl conversing in some strange language with The Librarian to the fact that her ability had disappeared completely, along with her tattoo.

Once time had slowed time or caught up, Delta wasn't sure which was correct. She couldn't help but smile at the girl when her arm turned back to its crystallized state, that was quite some power. Elpis was her name and when the girl looked up at her couldn't help but notice how the same alluring feeling she felt from the box she was feeling now but stronger.

Noticing that the tea cup had remained full, Delta lowered herself to Elpis's level. "Elpis," Delta said then frowned, how did someone communicate with a person who didn't speak their language? She pushed the girl's hair back, which was frizzy and long, and lifted the cup up to her mouth, hoping that the gesture was obvious enough. Elpis took the cup without the hesitation she had given The Librarian and took a few sips. Delta stood up and faced The Librarian to ask, "If no one else but you speaks that language, does that mean you're sticking around?"

"Not unless he has a power that'll make her speak something we can understand," Dom said, looking from Elpis to The Librarian. Now that she was out of that crystal he felt a lot better. "You don't usually stick around, right?"

Thayne had remained quiet. With Elpis finally freed from the crystal, he was a lot less nervous. There was definitely less chance of her getting hurt physically, but what about mentally? Having a ton of oddly clothed people with a bizarre language wasn't really something that would help a kid after what she went through. "What do you mean by proper Atlantean?" He asked, shifting his attention to the Librarian. "And what about Del's crystal? It just disappeared along with her tattoo?"

"I'll stay as long as I'm needed." The Librarian said. "My abilities don't affect another's learning capabilities of language, unfortunately. It might be an idea to try to teach her a modern language, but that would certainly be proven difficult." He then turned to Thayne and shook his head. "I am unsure. She's nothing that I've seen before and I don't know how to describe it. But her ability has something to do with touch, but I dare not ask her. In my time, asking another's ability was incredibly rude. She seems cautious around us all already. Except for you, Ms. Mayor."

"I'll teach her then," Delta volunteered herself and put a her hand on the Elpis's shoulder, she had started learning Polish at around the same age. Though, when it came to English she knew she wouldn't be the best teacher in the world. All that grammar and punctuation crap was seriously annoying, boring, and hard to explain. Perhaps it was just better to teach her Polish.

"Why don't we all help out?" Dom suggested. "It would be a lot easier and a lot faster than just one person. And we can teach her more than one language too!" He finished with a grin, a little excited on the idea of teaching the little girl new languages.

"I'd love to help her learn, but I think she is the one who should decide who helps her." Thayne said, looking at the girl. "She doesn't really seem comfortable with any of us. I don't she'd learn simply for that reason. Can you ask her?" He said towards the Librarian. The Librarian nodded, bending down and speaking to her again in what Oakley now assumed was Atlantean. She didn't answer straight away, looking around at everyone, then asking the Librarian a question. He smiled and nodded and asked her another question, to which she replied quietly, clinging to Delta's arm. The Librarian stood up, nodding.

"She says," he said, giving her a sad look, "to keep her safe."
​

 

[Skymin]

WARNING: This post includes parts with gore, heavy violence, offensive and coarse language. Discretion is advised.

Project Stargate Facility, Norlisk, Russia - PART TWO

November 12th, 2012

My next almost fifteen years were spent either running or hiding or a little of both. We were constantly moving between her homeland and my own, staying with relatives or booking under false names. We were so paranoid that our past was catching up on us and despite Emilia's attempts to help those who were like us, I was reluctant. Jonathan had taken refuge with a group known as the Royal Family, and I declined all offers of support. Who could we really trust?

Jonathan was the only one we kept consistent contact with, other than Emilia's family, but over the years our talks became less and less frequent. In our last one, Jonathan spoke of plans that would 'change the world' so to speak, and invited me to join him in his endeavors. I did trust Cooper, but time had warped his sense of judgement. I declined, and he never spoke to me again.

My last few years with Emilia were that of happiness. We finally decided to settle with her parents for a little while, raising our children, our two girls with a normal life in mind. We managed to do so in peace for a while, but Emilia was not satisfied with it. She wanted to give all who had been victims alongside us to live peacefully as well. A request which I could not fufill for her.

We set off for the next location with a new home in mind and we left our eldest girl behind with Emilia's mother, taking our youngest. Despite how much I wanted to leave her behind in safety, Emilia insisted we would be alright. We lived in Western Europe for less than a month, Emilia working to help those less fortunate while I did work here and there to blend in.

We had received a distress call of sorts from one of our old comrades, to which he needed help leaving the United States. I refused, like I had done in the past countless times, but Emilia trusted this man and wanted him to have the same peace we had lived with the past few years. She went to go on her own, but I went with her in the end, leaving our youngest with someone at the hospital Emilia had grown to trust.

I regret letting Emilia go everyday for what happened. We found the man, but it turned out that he was indeed within grasp of the enemy. They ambushed us and when it came to a fight, the one we were meant to be helping turned on us to save his own life. In this panicked state, my ability seem to fail me, and the future in front of me was blurred and hasty. We...we escaped into a house, but one of those who were chasing us blew it up from beneath us. Emilia was trapped beneath the debris.

I watched my wife die in front of my eyes.

She asked me to leave so that no one else would be hurt, but after watching the light leave her eyes, I waited for our attackers and killed them all. After that, I faked my death and vowed to never rest until we were all free from these monsters. By whatever means necessary.

------------------------------------------------​

"This is the place?" A voice came from his right. Charles nodded, the crisp air biting at his skin. He had not been here for thirty years. In fact, he had purposely avoided this place for a good lot of his life. But now, he had returned with nothing in his mind but revenge. "It's... smaller than I imagined." Charles shot Alesina a look and she shook her head. "I meant no offence." Her Italian accent was well hidden behind her English.

"So much death." Nyatichi shook thon head, closing thons eyes. Thon only knew so much English, and saved thons words when they really counted. Lev scoffed.

"And there's about to be a whole lot more." Lev sneered, his eyes focused on a guard scouting the outside of the facility, his loud chewing growing more and more annoying. He spat a ball of tobacco onto the ground. Not only his Texan accent, but his Texan attitude was heavy and obnoxious. "Bunch of commie bastards. Prancing around in their skirts like they own the place."

"How many would you say are here?" Alesina peered through the falling snow, trying to count the guards on the outside. "One hundred?"

"Eileen has already confirmed one hundred and eighty-three on duty at the moment. That's including supervisors and non-trained... scientists. If you could call them that. She's already down there scouting."

"Unfair. Why does she get a head start?" Lev spun his dual-blade axes around, transforming them from one weapon to the next. Axes, to swords, to guns, then back to axes. "Don't send the women in to do the man's job."

"Watch your mouth." Alesina spat at Lev. He grinned back.

"Or what, you're going to nag me to death?"

"Or I'll cut your lips off and feed them to Branko." Branko made a noise at his own name, chuckling at the joke he half understood. He said something in Croatian and stood up.

"Cut head off!" Branko wielded his own dual blades, brandishing them at Lev. Lev gripped his own, licking his lips.

"How about another wager, eh? I'll up the ante, make it $10,000 this time. $5 grand seemed too weak last time. You were barely at 50 heads by the time I had cut off 80. I've seen Eileen cut more than that quicker and she's a girl." Lev grinned, watching Alesina's rage grow from the corner of his eye. "How about it, bucko?"

"Deal!"

"I don't care how you kill them." Charles grunted. "Just leave him for me." A flare popped from the otherside of the facility. "There's the signal. Let's go."

"Nyatichi, fly me in. I'll cover the entrance. Eileen will meet us at the gate. The rest of you, do whatever the hell you want. This is your game, Taylor."

Nyatichi nodded, thon body already forming into that of a large eagle. Thon gripped Alesina by the shoulders, lifting her into the air. Charles, Lev and Branko ran after them, Nyatichi dropping Alesina at the front gates. As she hit the ground, a burst of gasses erupted from around her, Eileen (with gas mask on) running to her with key card, removed eyeball and a severed hand in tow. She skittered at the number pad, swiping the card, pressing the thumb up to the pad, the eye to the scanner and pressed in a combination of numbers. A green light confirmed their entrance and the enormous gates jittered open. Alesina thrusted her hands forward, pushing the gasses through the gate to any close-by guard to be immediately knocked out.

Charles, Lev and Branko had caught up by now, gas masks on and weapons wielded. Lev was the first to 'break the ice', throwing one of his axes at a oncoming guard. It pierced the forehead and shattered the skull, blood splattering everywhere. He gave a maniacal laugh, morphing his other axe into a hand gun and shooting at approaching guards as he retrieved his axe.

"There's nothing I like better in the evening than a f*cking hot bowl of communist brains." He shouted, smearing the blood splatter on his face and ran at the panicked guards who had turned tail and ran.

They found themselves running into the chest of Branko, who, with his wielded swords, cut three heads off at once. With their deaths empowering him instantly, he shouted in rage, smashing the last twos' heads together. Their skulls collided, blood splattering upwards and outwards.

"Four!" Lev shouted at Branko, pointing his gun at an incoming guard. "Five!"

"Seven!" Branko roared, punching his fist through another guard's head, and using his other hand and sword to slice off another head.

Meanwhile, from above, Nyatichi had landed on top of the facility, hiding thonself behind an air-conditioning unit. Thon fired a round into the sky, attracting the attention of three nearby guards. Nyatichi ran in, skidding underneath one of the guard's feet and appearing behind him to jab him in the neck with one hand and pull in another guard with the other. With a few more twists and jabs, thon was surrounded by three guards, all unconscious and reluctant to wake up for the next few hours.

"Clear." Thon said into the radio on her wrist, continuing on down roof stairs.

"Roger that, Nyatichi. Taylor, Lev, Branko, push forward into the facility! Eileen, once they are through break the security system. We need those electric doors disengaged if we want to get past the main foyer." Charles nodded, dodging the bullets and attacks as if they were choreographed and he had practised this dance a thousand time. Lev and Branko however, continued to mow down the guards until there were none standing to oppose them. Eileen disappeared, cursing under her breath.

"A task like that is so easily done, this will not prove satisfactory." She sighed, slipping past the main doors to find the control room. The security of the entire facility made her laugh. She was able to break through their digital guards without even blinking and now their physical force was being beaten by 5 (albeit heavily trained) assassins. Hilarious.

The rest of the outside guards had fallen back inside, the bland cement walls now painted red with their blood, Lev and Branko using their weapons as the paintbrushes.Now inside, Charles ignored the attention of the guards, making his way through the facility to its deepest core. He only stopped to take out the annoying guard here and there or wait for Eileen to open the next door, having already found the security room and taken control.

Alesina however, made her way lower, into the experimental wards. Once the guards dead and 'scientists' knocked out, she found dozens of prison cells with Atlanteans hooked up to machines. Though she didn't know the specifics of what machine did what, it wasn't hard to figure out; a scientist in an opposite, oblivious to Alesina, turned a dial on one of the machines, sending volts of electricity into a woman's body. Alesina felt a hot rage building up within her, horrified with the treatment of these innocent people.

"Eileen! Open the prison cells!" She hissed into her radio, the doors opening instantly on command.

"Per our agreement, after I open these doors, amalgamate my company with Lev and Branko, my compensation shall be the 10,000 dollars." Alesina would have objected if she hadn't smashed through the glass, wielding a shard of glass as a weapon and slicing through the man's neck like paper. She then put a foot through the equipment, the Atlantean's body relaxing as the electricity finally left her. Alesina was going to kill every one of these bastards and no machine was going to stop her. She placed a finger on her pulse, the woman still alive thankfully, and pulled the radio in her wrist up to her mouth.

"Taylor! Status!"

"About to destroy this mother f*cker." Charles slammed the door behind him, finally in the office of the man he had sought death upon for all these years. "I'm going to make you wish that you had never been born, you disgusting worm." The man stood up from his chair, wiping his hands on a towel on his desk. He was tall, his hair dark and his eyes cold and grey. He smiled as if he had won, but Charles knew much better than that. "Kozyrev."

"Mr. Taylor!" Kozyrev's accent was thick and obviously Russian. "How have you been? How is your wife? Well, I assume?"

"Smug son of a b*tch." Charles spat at Kozyrev's feet. "You better pick some better last words before I cut your head off."

"Don't be so hasty, Mr. Taylor. Tell me, when was the last time you had a fist fight where you didn't know the ending?" Suddenly, the future around Charles had disappeared and his head was clear for the first time since he had come to this wretched place. He searched the room, his eyes closing on an open box on Kozyrev's desk. Inside it was a red stone, the size of a baseball, which felt like it was pulsing with energy. "Anti-Atlantite. This should make this a fair fight."

The door behind Charles swung open, two larger guards stepping in the doorway. They were both taller than him, one armed with a set of daggers and the other with brass knuckles. Charles laughed, wielding his own weapon - a dagger.

"I don't need to know the future to know you're going to die soon, Kozyrev." The guards were the first to react, the one with the knives charging forward with them brandished. He swung once, twice, both to which Charles dodged on a hair's breadth. The other guard threw a punch, landing hard on Charles' side, feeling his ribs crack under the force. He heaved, but with his right hand, sliced upwards as hard as he could, cutting the guard's arm and smashing his chin with his fist. The guard blacked out for a moment, stepping back and letting the dagger-wielding one forward. Charles dodged the first swing and cut at his left hand, the guard wailing and loosening his grip. A kick in the chin and then the wrist made the guard let go of one of his daggers, but with his other hand he managed to slice at Charles' chest. The cut wasn't deep enough to his bone or muscle, but blood began to dye his vest red.

He mustered up his strength, dodging blows as the guard with the bronze knuckles swung at him. The first, second, and third punch all missed their intended target, but Charles felt the third collide with his chin. The guard sneered, hoping he had taken Charles off his guard but instead the blow had left the guard open, ducking under the next fist and thrusting one of his daggers into the guard's chest as hard as he could. When he still felt life underneath his skin, he stabbed with his other hand. The guard fell back and Charles fell with him, abandoning the daggers and rolling out of the way as they hit the ground together, the dagger-wielding guard stabbing the now-dead guard instead of Charles. With his foot, he swept the guard down to the ground, knocking the other dagger from his hand, yanking it off the ground and stabbing him directly in the heart. The guard was dead in an instant.

"Well done." Kozyrev clapped. "You've done well for a washed up soldier. With a dead wife."

"You shut your mouth. You shut your f*cking mouth." Charles panted, his own and the guards' blood splattered over his face. "It's your turn to die."

"Not today, Mr. Taylor." Kozyrev pulled a gun from his jacket, pointing it directly at Charles' head. "I think I've let enough of your kind live for long enough. After I'm done with this place, I'll destroy it. Then, I'll hunt down every single one of your kind until the world returns to the way it was. Even my own kin. Nobody should be able to toy with the elements, or control time. Nobody but God. Your kind is an abomination and I won't rest until you're all wiped from this planet."

"You're an abomination." Charles spat at him. "Destroying an entire race? Who's playing God now, you sick, twisted f*ck." Kozyrev smiled at him, cocking the gun.

"I really don't care what you think. You're about to be dead anyway." Suddenly, the window behind him shattered and through it, an enormous eagle screeched loudly, its talons sharp and aimed directly at Kozyrev. In surprise, he pulled the trigger, missing Charles' head but the bullet lodging into his shoulder. He yelled in pain, falling to his knees as the giant avian collided with Kozyrev and forced him to the ground.

"NO! HE'S MINE! LEAVE HIM!" Charles shouted at Nyatichi. Thon stopped screaming, blinking at Charles then stepping off of him. Thon had started reverting back to thons human form and with a nod, disappeared out the door. Charles panted, stepping off the floor and picked up the gun that Kozyrev had dropped. He stepped over the broken glass, and stood above Kozyrev, checking the bullets he had in the mag. Seven. "I've waited a long time for this."

"Once you kill me, then what, Mr. Taylor? What will you do? Try to find peace? Your kind killed all of that the day that that Royal Family b*tch River Beleren put that crystal into the air. Its barely been a month and look how much of the world you have destroyed. Your family is probably dead and in ruins somewhere, along with dear Emilia." Charles shot a bullet into Kozyrev's kneecaps each, causing him to scream out in pain and groan in angony. His breathing had grown louder and he laughed. "Have you even been to Paris yet? London? The world is doomed. Why can't you see that?"

"You've been destroying lives for thirty years, Kozyrev. What makes you any different?" Charles let off another round into his elbow and one into his hip, Kozyrev letting out another yelp.

"I'm working for the greater good. Who are you and your little gang of merry men working for? You only seek to satisfy yourselves." He wheezed, coughing and tasting the blood in his mouth. Charles shot him another two times in his shoulders then pointed the gun at his forehead. Kozyrev grinned. "Give it six months, Mr. Taylor. You'll be eating your words and you'll have wished you have listened to me."

"SHUT THE F*CK UP."

"I'll see you soon." Was the last words Kozyrev uttered before the last round was shot, directly into his forehead. Charles took a moment to look at the damage that had been done, screwing up his face and punching Kozyrev's dead face until the pain would go away. But it didn't. Emilia was still gone and all of their pain and suffering had come from this man. Who had felt no remorse or guilt, even until the end.

"You let it get personal." Alesina's voice came from the door. Charles got to his feet, kicking the man's head one more time before wiping the blood from his face. "That's not what the League is about, Taylor."

"Shut up." He said, closing the box on Kozyrev's desk, pocketing it and passing by Alesina without even looking at her disappointed face. "Let's get out of here." Alesina narrowed her eyes and followed him down until they were back into the main foyer. The guards, every single one of them were all dead and in the middle of the scene was Lev, Eileen and Branko, piling up bodies into piles behind them.

"Forty-two." Lev had finished counting his own pile. Branko chucked at him.

"Fifty-one!" He laughed, holding his hand out for money. Eileen shook her head, gesturing to her own.

"I have counted fifty-nine, I believe that makes me the victor this round."

"Pay later, we take the prisoners and we go. This place is disgusting." Alesina scowled at them, like a mother scowling at children.

"Leave them. They can find their own way home." Charles spat, walking past her and making his way for the door.

"How can you say that, Taylor? These people were exactly like you! Don't you want to help them?"

"No."

"Why not?!"

"Because I don't CARE anymore." He shouted, looking angrily at the rest of the League. The foyer was silent for a few moments before he continued out the door and back out into the cold. Lev shrugged, shaking his head.

"Whatever, I'm out. See you f*ggots later." He gave a wave, abandoned his pile and followed Charles out. Branko followed, not saying a word. Eileen huffed, kicking over a body as she too, left.

"I'll just retrieve it from your bank accounts later, then."

Alesina sighed, turning to the only one who had remained. "C'mon, Nyatichi, let's do what we came here for."​

 

[Swolligator]

Waite Pharmaceuticals British Branch, London, England

6:30am GMT, November 21st, 2012

Wyatt crept through the dark hallway, hugging close to the wall with his assault rifle hanging limply in his hands. October had dealt to the power in the surrounding area making it look as if it was simply a power cut while Seamus had infiltrated the maintenance area and dealt a blow to the backup generator. So far emergency lighting flashed red above each door leading to the exit as the only source of light. For Wyatt, his night vision made it easier to traverse the halls without detection and to dispatch enemies with ease. He moved through the darkness like a spectre; unseen and unheard. With the Directive speaking directions straight into his ear, it didn't take Wyatt long to reach the central research centre where the data they were after was being held.

"Alright, I'm here," Wyatt whispered into his shoulder, "what's next?"

"To your right there should be a computer terminal hooked up to a row of servers. Find the USB port and hook in the USB stick. The computers have their own internal battery source which will keep them running until the power comes back on."

Plugging in the USB, Wyatt switched back into his normal vision just in time for the computer screen to light up and identify the storage device. Knowing little of computers, Wyatt stood back and watched the small stick boot up a program that began hacking into the server. Lines of code began running down the screen in command prompt while behind it files opened and closed as it copied only what it needed. Pulling his attention away from the screen, Wyatt scanned the computers and electronic equipment that lined the walls and desks. He had no idea what half this stuff did much less how to operate it.

A noise caught his attention, taking Wyatt away from his day dream as he lifted up his rifle. Aiming it in the general area where he had heard the noise, he clicked the safety off and growled, "show yourself!"

"P-please don't shoot me!" From under a table crawled out a tall, slender woman with thin glasses and short hair.

"What are you doing here? It's meant to be empty!" He barked at her.

"I was j-just doing some late n-night research." She stammered, "I could ask y-you the same thing."

"Don't get smart with me, turn around!" he ordered as he stalked closer to her until the muzzle of his gun was only inches from her body. Fearful, she did exactly what he said, placing her hands on the wall of computers behind her. "Move, and I shoot." Wyatt warned as he moved back to the computer terminal.

Impatiently he tapped his foot against the floor as the hard drive only displayed thirty percent downloaded files. He held the rifle in his right hand, still aimed at the chest of the scientist. Even from this distance any bullets would hit her whether or not he had both hands on it or simply one. Ever since the hostile takeover of Beacon Bank more than a week ago, Wyatt had no troubles with utilizing violence. Even his ability had grown to the point where it was less of a random occurrence and more of a tool he could switch on and off. He had been on multiple missions with the other recruits; some were to set up takeovers of other banking firms while others were more cloak and dagger. Wyatt had no idea the information the hard drive was taking from the computer terminal, only that Doctor Meier had rigged the device to download what they wanted.

The lady whimpered from across the room, Wyatt didn't notice that she had shifted the position of her hands, but he did snap. "Shut the hell up! Serious or I'll riddle you with bullets, yeah?" He turned just in time to see her enter a four digit code into a pinpad next to the door.

"What the?! What did you do?!" Wyatt lunged forward as she turned to face him, catching her by the throat and pinning her against the wall. His hand tightened around her throat as she clawed at his hand leaving trails of blood. Rage filled his eyes as the irises became drenched with deep-red colour. Around them sirens blared but all Wyatt could do was squeeze harder, watching as her body glowed a brighter red. Soon it peaked and she stopped struggling. With one final breath Wyatt let go as her body dropped limply to the floor.

Stalking back to the terminal, he punched the wall above it in frustration. "Hard drive has nearly finished. I'll need Jeremy to 'port me out, security has been notified." Wyatt again spoke into his shoulder, looking over at the rapidly cooling body slumped on the ground.

"Hold out, Sentinel, he'll be there soon." The Directive's voice came out clear in his ear as Wyatt waited as patiently as one could.

At first he tried to pry the door open, but it was locked shut. No matter how much he slammed with his fists or kicked it with his boot, the door refused to open. With no windows the place felt like a death trap as he could feel himself start to panic. The flashing red siren, the emergency lighting, the black computer screens, it was all starting to get to him as his breath became shallower.

Just when Wyatt thought he was about to lose it, Jeremy teleported in on the scene bringing with him a much needed breeze of fresh air and his breath calmed. His heart stopped beating against his ribcage and he was able to get a clear view of the computer screen just as it reached one hundred percent. Jeremy clutched Wyatt's shoulder, partly to hold him up but also because he was glad to see Wyatt again.

"Let's get outta here, dude." Jeremy smiled at Wyatt as he unplugged the hard drive. Wyatt simply nodded at Jeremy as he curled the USB cord around the storage device.

Wyatt braced himself as Jeremy wrapped his arms around him in a hug, Wyatt feeling the air squeeze out of his lungs as Jeremy teleported them both out of there. Wyatt didn't open his eyes until he felt his feet shift onto the carpet of the Syndicate's board room. He gripped the hard drive tightly not wanting to drop it during the teleportation, but once in the room, he handed it to the Directive.

"Aww, isn't the cute, Jeremy and Wyatt had a moment." October's condescending voice came from the back of the room as she leaned back on her chair next to Adrian. On either side of them the rest of the crew sat waiting for them. Seamus was the only other one to respond with a slight snicker before mouthing something to October.

"Joking aside, we have work to do." The Directive plugged the hard drive into the computer terminal next to the projector at the front of the table. The projector lit up the screen with command prompt sitting over top the Syndicate Logo background. After entering a couple of phrases, command prompt disappeared to reveal folders of encrypted files. Launching just one file unencrypted the rest providing a plethora of data at their disposal.

Before they could go any further, a tall, olive-skinned man in a suit and tie walked into the room. He seemed imposing, like he filled up the entire room with his presence and it made a shiver run up Wyatt's spine. "Good Morning, Mister Aggelos," the Directive spoke, obviously aware that this man would be joining them, "we're just about to start."

Nodding his head, the man sat down nearer to the screen, several seats away from the recruits whom all sat at the back of the table. "C-E-O", October mouthed to Wyatt, Seamus and the Kozyrev siblings while also spelling it out with her hands. Wyatt wondered just why a CEO would be down in a meeting with them, but then again the Syndicate wasn't really a normal organisation.

"Waite Pharmaceuticals, based in Boston, America has various labs around the world. Wyatt here broke into the English branch, downloading these files." The Directive brought up a file labelled with two letters and then a series of numbers. Information began to cover every part of the screen causing some to overlap and cover others. "Each branch specialises in a differing area of expertise and it seems these this branch was looking into the genetic roots and similarities between Humans and Atlanteans. Of course, this data is useful to Syndicate Research and Development but without access to the data provided by the other branches we can't know for certain what they're up to."

Adrian raised his hand from the back of the room, "so you're saying we're going to infiltrate all the branches? There has to be too many."

"Yeah, but after today, they're all going to be on alert." Wyatt's presence must have caused some sort of disturbance. If they weren't on high alert now, then the rest of the branches would surely be so in a couple of hours.

"If that's what it's going to take, Mister Santoro, then so be it." The Directive soon moved onto another file, Wyatt tuning out as he lost interest in the more complex and scientific portion of the files.

He looked out of the corner of his eyes at Jeremy sitting next to him. For the first two days following the rescue, Jeremy stayed on the medical floor as the doctors attended to him and brought him back up to health. After that it was slow goings as he took it easy teleporting from across the room to across town. Within a week he was back up to speed and looking like he hadn't missed a day at all. Although some seemed strange with Jeremy. Wyatt wasn't the only one to notice it; even October had made a comment about how dull his eyes looked. That bubbly, happy-go-lucky Canadian guy Wyatt had taken the hand of only a month back was gone. In his place was this haunted shell of the guy he once was. Then again, he wasn't the same person he was when this all started nearly a month ago.

"…we'll start in two hours. Head back to the accommodation level and get some breakfast. I'll see you all down in the Science Lab when you're ready." The Directive nodded at the recruits that they could leave, closing all the windows on the screen and removing the hard drive. No doubt he would be taking the hard drive straight to Doctor Meier. As for Mister Aggelos, he waited in the room while Wyatt and the others slowly filtered out.

As they all filed into the elevator, curiosity overcame Wyatt and he waved goodbye to the others and crept back to the room. Hanging just outside the door, he looked through the wall at the two men sitting opposite one another. He was close enough to hear what they were saying but they were both talking in hushed tones.

"Do you really think your sister could be behind it?" That was the Directive, Wyatt was sure of it.

"It wouldn't surprise me, after all the destruction she's cause already." Mister Aggelos' accent was very Mediterranean, if Wyatt had to guess it he would think it were Greek or Turkish. "According to my brother's calendar, we've got a month."

"A month until what? Do the other CEOs know of this?"

"Yes, they all do. Darren even confirmed it from that wretched Prophet. These kids better be ready if they want to even have a chance of stopping her."

"Alright. After we get what we need from this pharmaceutical company, we'll be on our way to the South Pacific. Artefact or not, we're going to get this kid." Wyatt furrowed his brow, there was nothing he knew of in the South Pacific, just small islands and a lot of water.

"Be careful, you're playing her game now." Wyatt heard the movement of chairs as the two men got up. Instinctively, he bolted into one of the dark, unused rooms as his heart pounded in his chest. The two walked by without exchanging a word or looking into the room. He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the elevator doors close behind them and the cables lower it down the shaft.​

 

[SV]

Outskirts of San Diego, California, United States

November 21st, 2012

What was it like to die? They say that when someone dies, a multitude of emotions begins to swirl around in your head all at once. Fear is perhaps the biggest of those. Fear of the end, or fear of what happens next, if anything. Regret is another big one. Regret of the things you've never gotten to accomplish. Regret for what you might be leaving behind. Anger was one too. Anger at those who wronged you, or at yourself, or at anything you could target at your closing moments. Perhaps there's acceptance and understanding too, when one has lived their life as best as they could, and accepts death's embrace. As James looked down at his arm and saw as it slowly began to be dissipated into tiny particles, those emotions ran through his mind as well. Why him? It wasn't fair. He still had so much he wanted to accomplished. What happens now? Does anything happen now? It was the usual list of suspects.

Until it wasn't. He suddenly felt something else, something that he hadn't expected to be there. It originated from within him, but was stimulated by the portions of his body which began to disappear before his very eyes. It was the slow tingling sensation he experienced every time he released a shock of lightning from his hand, or from between his fingetips, only amplified a thousands times. It went beyond his arms or his nervous system. His entire body felt this sensation, and the point of impact felt it at an even greater degree. It was pure power he felt. Absolute, unfiltered, untainted power. It was energy, morphing his body of everything he once was, all the abnormalities of nature, and altering it into its most powerful, perfect, flawless state.

What was it like to die? James couldn't tell you. There was overlap in the plethora of emotions that he was experiencing and those that might be expected to come with death. He feared for the unknowing. He felt anger for not knowing what to expect or how to react. He felt helpless, helpless beyond measure as he felt control over his own body leave him. Yet he knew this wasn't death, because as the abundance of power raced through him, as the last of his body became pure energy and dissapeared from sight, as the last of what made him human began to leave him, there was another emotion he felt beyond any of the others. Anticipation. He was at the mercy of the power roaming across him, but strangely he wanted to see what happened next. Because at that moment, James had never been more helpless, but he had also never been more powerful.

And then he was gone.

***​

Time was frozen, or perhaps it was moving so fast that it didn't matter anymore. Either way, both were irrelevant. In fact, nothing seemed to be relevant anymore. There was nothing but energy, and even that seemed so far away now, yet somehow he could tell it was close. It came from within, but from deep within, as if it were unreachable. He tried to make some sort of reaction, but his mind and his body, if he still had one anymore, seemed to be disconnected by a millions miles of emptiness. Or maybe it was a million years. Both time and space no longer seemed to matter anymore.

There was just the energy, the infinite abundance of pure energy, which he was somehow apart of, yet unable to utilize in any way. He wanted to protect it, to cradle it in his arms, but he couldn't touch it. He wanted to harness it, to build it up from within himself, but he had no mind anymore to try and project it. He wanted to feel it, to sense the gathering pressure of the power from inside him, but no tingle came from it. He wanted at the very least to just see it, to confirm with his very eyes that it even existed, or to hear it to know its crackling nature, but even those were now impossible tasks. It was pitiful. He had conjoined with energy and power at its most pure and untarneshed state, yet he had no way of utilizing it. This wasn't power. It was nothing. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

The endless darkness encompassed all that the void which made up his space had a slight irregularity. For one, brief second, something happened that didn't make sense. A light. One, small, miniscule light flickered at the center of nothingness. The focus was on the light, but it disappeared as quickly as it showed its face. He wanted to see it again. He tried to call for it, but received no answer. Then he realized that was because he never sent a call, it was the one that contact him. He waited for it again. Soon, the blip happened again. Another light flickered. He focused on it this time. It was...warm, he could actually feel its presence. He urged himself onto the light, but felt a negative reaction in the process. The energy, that pure energy which he had become apart of, he could somehow feel it slipping from it.

The light grew stronger, beckoning him toward it. He stepped to it, and saw how the energy slipped further and further away from him, nearly losing all grasp of it. He knew he couldn't keep both. It was either the light, or it was the energy. He had to make his choice, for one or the other. The energy promised him eternal purity, infinite abundance he would always be apart of, but would never truly understand. The light promised none of that, only possibilites. Yet among those possibilities, there was an opportuntiy. He would never be apart of that eternal circuit of power. However...it was possible that one day, maybe a distant day in the future, maybe further than he desires, or perhaps much sooner than he anticipates, and maybe for the briefest of seconds...but all of that infinite abundance, that eternal purity, could be his to command.

He discarded the energy, and embraced the light. The light instantly reacted, morphing from its position and bouncing forward, suddenly moving as if onto a path toward another, similar-looking light.This light bounced off and traveled until it hit another one of the same shape or form. It became apparent that there was a string of connected lights, bouncing off of one another and connecting together, bringing back from the void of existence that which was almost lost. The electrical energy continuously bounced off one another, working in unison and recreating a living being from its energy, slowly forming until the form of James Hazen returned once more.

He opened his eyes slowly, taking in the immediate features of everything around him. Everything was blurry and bright. He took a moment to try and adjust to everything, but it wasn't long before he was greeted by a voice. An American one, belonging to a man covered by a hat and cloak to likely conceal himself. "Finally, I was beginning to wonder if you would come back." The man chucked some clothing at him, which James didn't anticipate and let fall onto his body, which was apparently naked as he looked down below. He began to slowly put them on emotionlessly, his mind still trying to grasp everything that had happened, particularly trying to get over having so much power within his grasp, and losing it all at once. It felt like being on a drug for so long, and then abandoning it all at once.

Full dressed, but still detached and deep in his own thoughts, James looked beyond the cloaked man and toward the city below. Becoming pure electrical energy was unlike anything he had experienced before. Scary and desolate as it was, he missed it already.​

 

[Swolligator]

Atlantean Royal Mansion, Boston, England

November 21st, 2012

"F*ck!" Oliver exclaimed as he smashed his head on a slat of wood.

He tried to bring his arm up to rub the pain away from his forehead and the sleep from his eyes but another wooden slat stopped this from happening. When he finally opened his eyes, Oliver groaned at the sight of the bottom of his bed. The last thing he could recall through the thumping in his head was challenging Rebecca to a sculling race on the back of his truck as they drank with a some of the other students. From the banging in his skull he felt like he had drunk well over a dozen beers. He wondered just how much beer Rebecca had drunk, but no doubt she had drunk him well under the table.

Grasping the edge of the bed, Oliver pulled himself out from under the bed only to be blinded by the sunlight streaming in through the open window. Groaning as he stretched his tight joints, he managed to stumble towards the door, grabbing his towel from its position slung over his desk chair. From his dorm room he managed to stumble-walk down the hall to the men's bathroom, clutching his head in his hand. Taking his time in the shower, Oliver spent most of it with his head under the stream and watching coalesce on the floor. With class in only a couple of minutes he savoured the relief the warm water gave him.

With towel wrapped around his midriff and clothes slung over his shoulder, Oliver quickly darted from the showers to his bedroom almost halfway down the hall. The mornings were starting to get darker and colder, and in a place as old and as wooden as the Mansion, the walls did little to keep the heat in. Ducking into his room, Oliver slipped into a pair of jeans he had cleaned and left lying on the end of his bed, a dark, long sleeved V-neck shirt from his drawers and the grey high-school hoodie that covered his lamp. The neat and pristine roommate's side of the room showed Oliver that the guy had left long before he had woken up. Unlike his roommate, Oliver enjoyed his messy space. With guitar sitting on his desk chair and clothes everywhere like a bomb had gone off in his drawers, he truly felt like he lived in this room and that it was similar to his one back home.

Then again, what he called home no longer existed. If he were to go back now, would his parents even consider letting him in through the front door? The last time he had seen them it had been at the end of summer. He had been walking along the beach with his younger sister, their puppy running ahead of them and barking at anything that moved. Alicia clung to his hand, the six year old stretching his arm out as she ran at the receding waves but then squealing as the waves splashed on her feet when she ran back to him. It was a great family vacation on the southern tip of England and it was shortly coming to a close.

"Look Oli!" Alicia called out in her juvenile voice, "It'sa pwetty blue stone!"

He followed her outstretched finger to a small, edged stone glinting in the sun just beneath the waves. "Let's go get it, yeah?" He asked before grasping her under the arms and lifting her up so she sat on his left arm and wrapped her arms around his neck. As Oliver waded over to the stone, a wave lapped up, licking the bottom of Alicia's feet and causing her to wrap them around his waist.

Through the crystal surface of the water, the stone looked mesmerizingly blue, but when he brought it out the stone was a lot greener in colour. Holding it up for Alicia to get a look at it, she gave him a tight squeeze of a hug before releasing one hand to take the stone from him and play with it while he waded back into shore. Calling their puppy over, Oliver headed back to where their parents lay and deposited Alicia next to them.

"Look mummy! I has a pwetty stone!" She exclaimed almost shoving the stone in her mother's face.

"Oliver!" his mother scolded him. "Oliver!" she yelled at him again, he hadn't meant to disturb them, Alicia just wanted to show them the stone….

"Oliver!" Rebecca called from his door, already dressed and looking a lot less wet than he did. He could vaguely see the bags under her eyes, but no doubt she had covered them with makeup.

It was a typical routine; she would come and collect him before class to make sure he actually went on time. When he had first arrived at the Mansion, he struggled to fit in with the others, preferring to sleep in and miss class or skip class to go train at the gym downstairs. On the days that he did go, he would sit behind Rebecca and pay more attention to her than the teacher at the front of the class. Then one day he bumped into her in the courtyard, catching her sitting under a tree reading a book and deciding to sit down next to her and talk. It didn't take them long to become friendly, and now they were coupled together for the past five months.

"Yeah, sorry. I was just daydreaming." He shook his head before grabbing a pen and notebook from his desk.

"Hurry up, Mister Trent is going to be starting Atlantean Studies soon." She motioned for him, wrapping her arm around his once he had shut the door to his bedroom.

The two slunk into class in time to take two of the few remaining seats. Around them, most of the older students sat patiently while Mister Trent wrote several things on the board. The desks were arranged into three rows, all curving around from the door to the windows and directed at the front of the room akin to a lecture theatre with a split in the middle of the rows. Spying two seats in the second row by the window, Rebecca and Oliver made their way to the opposite edge of the room.

"Welcome to Atlantean Studies. For those new to the class, I'm Edward Trent and I'll be teaching you the fundamentals of Atlantean abilities." Edward's Chicago accent caused Oliver to furrow his brow; with such a hangover it almost made the headache worse.

"There are four classes or families that abilities belong to: Evolution, Manipulation, Morphology, Mimicry and Psychological." He pointed to the board where all five were written, "However saying the whole thing is a bit pretentious, so often they are shortened to Evo, Kinetic, Morph, Mimic and Psycho; which isn't to say that those with Psychological powers are a few cards short of a deck…" A couple of the students laughed at the joke, but for the others it was a bit too early for jokes.

"So, what exactly does each class mean? The first and most common is Kinetic. Atlanteans like Justin fit into this category; their abilities revolve around the creation, control and manipulation of almost anything. Elements both modern and classical, states of matter and objects are all things that are commonly manipulated." Edward paced across the front of the board, stopping to point to a student who had their hand up.

"So how does your power work?"

"Simple, I mediate the amount of luck myself or someone can experience. With such an obscure force, it's hard to explain exactly how it works, but think of it like a seesaw. On one end you have good luck, on the other bad. Now each time the seesaw tips one way, it will eventually have to tip the other in order to maintain balance. For example, Mister Carrow, unfortunately your pencil is going to snap when you finally write down what is on the board."

As if on cue the student tried to write down the five categories, but his pencil broke halfway up the shaft once he had finished writing 'Morphology'. He swore and the rest of the class laughed at his misfortune as someone handed him another pencil to write with.

"But don't despair, Mister Carrow, look under the desk in your room and you'll find two dollars. Not now, after class." Edward shook his head as the boy went to get up from his seat. "Next is Mimicry. Like the name suggest, it revolves around the mimicking of elements, animals, even mythical creatures sometimes…." Edward stopped talking and most of the class turned to see Roxanna open the door, late to class like always.

"Ah, Miss Hererra, finally you join us. Now tell me, what is the difference between Morphological abilities and Mimicry abilities?" Edward folded his arms across his chest as he waited for Roxanna to answer him.​

 

[Skymin]

Atlantean Unification Project Headquarters, Toulouse, France

November 12th, 2012

The elevator door pinged open and Imogen stepped inside, her arms crossed and her temper high. 'Elpis' was hardly what was expected when Delta had opened the box, and the ability she had shown was even more unexpected. Honestly, she had expected a weapon. A powerful weapon she could use to destroy her enemies and... peace as well, probably. That too.

But, now that Imogen had calmed down, if Elpis could be controlled, she could be a valuable ally. And a valuable weapon. What was she doing inside that box anyway? Who had seen fit to lock her in there? Pandora herself, perhaps. It didn't makes sense that she would lock her own daughter in a box, unless it was to protect her. Unless, it was someone else. Someone who wanted to seal her away...

The elevator door pinged again, the doors opening to reveal Cooper. He saw Imogen and nodded at her, Imogen replying with the same. He held his thumb over over one of the elevator buttons, the elevator doors pinging again and it travelled down, past the hanger and underneath.

"How's Atticus going?" Imogen broke the silence.

"Under control."

"And Emil?" Cooper smiled back at Imogen, shaking his head.

"You don't have to worry about him. He's been with me for too long to break out. Atticus, however..." Cooper narrowed his eyes at Imogen. "Be thankful he's back. Don't let him get so far away again. We can't risk it."

The elevator doors opened and Cooper lead the way down a dark corridor, fluorescent lights making their faces seem pale, bleak and shallow. The hallway was grey, made from cement, but the ceiling broke the monotonous colour, splattered with red shards. Anti-Atlantanite it was. To keep eavesdroppers (and sightdroppers) to themselves.

"I bet you're glad that's there now that the Librarian's meant to be sticking around." Imogen nodded towards the roof, smirking at Cooper. He snorted back.

"Yes. It's hard to tell if he knows exactly what's going on or not. I assume he knows exactly what my ability knows is, yet says nothing. I don't know what he has to do with this all, but I don't like him around." Cooper scowled, pulling out a set of keys and unlocked a door on his left. "The sooner he is gone the better."

"And the kid?"

"She will prove useful. In due time." Cooper turned his head to Imogen, narrowing his eyes again. "Don't you dare try anything with her. She has to trust us. I know what you're like with children."

"Oh shut up. You know Oscar was a mistake. Him and the others." Imogen rolled her eyes.

"A mistake that no one will forget. Nobody will trust you again."

"Well, not nobody." Imogen grinned. "I think I'm growing on Delta."

"Hmph."

He turned the knob, opening the door to another bleak, cemented room with the red sharded ceiling. This room was large, and reminded Imogen of a prison, with glass doors leading to other smaller rooms. There were a few men and women in white lab coats, huddled around desks and computers. Inside these glass cells were more men and women, unconscious and bound to chairs with monitors hooked to them. Bound to some of these chairs were Will, Brad and Agnes, among others. There were at least 30 of them.

"So what do you suppose of Emil's boy?" Imogen raised her eyebrows. "He really had me going before he turned into a big dog. Who'd've thought he was hiding that thing under his skin?"

"Just goes to show. Never trust anyone who says they have no ability. You should talk to him later."

"Yeah, probably."​

Atlantean Unification Project Headquarters, Toulouse, France

November 21st, 2012

The week had felt long, longer than the one Oakley had spent with the Librarian. It didn't feel as homey as his place under the Vatican and she didn't have the pleasure of being able to see the Librarian's magic tricks or baking and cooking anything she felt like (she never asked for anything, but the Librarian seemed to know what each of them wanted) but to see and meet the people of the AUP was a whole different experience. She met and talked to Annie, the techwiz of the organisation, and had a proper conversation with Julian that wasn't during a boat heist. She even managed to get a quick hello to Emil as they passed each other every now and again. He was looking more and more tired, something that she had asked Devon about who merely waved it off. As she saw more and more of Devon and Emil's dystopian relationship, her thoughts turned to her own father. She hadn't seen him in a while now, and she missed him. Was he doing alright? She sincerely hoped so.

Devon had been disappearing and reappearing quite often the past week, showing his face for training in the morning and disappearing until he returned the following evening. When Oakley asked him where he had been, he gave vague answers, ones which Oakley didn't press on.

She had almost forgotten about James and Nathaniel as well. How had they been going? Had the Librarian been around them as much as he around her? Maybe she would ask to go see them, if they could. She had no idea where they were, and forgot to ask the Librarian about them. Perhaps next time.

She was around the other juniors more and more now, though she had noticed the absence of Agnes. Maybe the AUP had been too much for her, had she gone home? Anytime she thought to ask someone, she was distracted by something else, mainly Elpis. Her personality had really come to shine, that of being a curious and cheeky little girl who did love to hug and play pranks. She was also an incredibly fast learner, already managing to learn a few English words here and there (and any other language the other juniors had managed to get in). The Librarian had been most intrigued, translating when he could, but his presence had been growing less and less over the weak, his purpose waning. He did like Elpis, but like some, avoided her touch.

"I imagine that if she were to touch me, she would make me... mortal of sort. I'm not sure what that would do to me. I've lived for over two millennia, I don't think my body would appreciate suddenly being un-Atlantean." He let out a chuckle. "She's learning so quickly, though. It's so hard to pin exactly what she is. Neither mortal nor Atlantean. Perhaps she is... hmm. The ones who came before." And the Librarian was lost to Oakley, deep in thought.

Freddie was another who had become wary of Elpis, delighted to have someone that reminded him of his niece but unsure what would happen if he took away his ability. It was something he had hated for a long time, but to think now, after being with it for over a month and how it had made him, well, unique. He could walk now, without too much wobbling, and he felt less useless and frustrated. But to take all that work away? All that learning to cope with himself, to have a second chance at being him again? In saying that, there wasn't anything special about the normal him to begin with. What would it be like to be normal?

"Freddie, I think that this is you now. This is who you are." Julian put a hand on Freddie's shoulder, smiling. "If you took that away, would you feel like you did before? Were you happy? Are you happy now?"

"I'm..." Freddie had to think for a second. He... his university professor life had been far from exciting, to be honest. He had no friends, no real relationships aside from his family, but even then, he had never seen them much. Here, he had made many friends, and many who had accepted him for him, instead of laughing at his stutter or pitying him. "I think I'd like to st-stay as g-goat man." He laughed.

"Good choice. I would have liked to meet Professor Salusbury."

"I'm st-still a professor!"

Misha loved Elpis, tossing her into the air and catching her again, not caring whether he left with his ability or not. Atticus had met her, though didn't want to talk to her much. Natalia and Annie had been busy with other things to meet her, but knew of her presence. As far as Oakley knew, Cooper had not seen Elpis since she was broken from the crystal, but Emil was intrigued, watching the juniors communicate with her rather that join in.

Training was another thing Oakley had taken part in, and as the days passed, Oakley felt more and more in control with her armour. Her necklace helped her immensely, and she hoped that if she took it off, she could keep the armour in check. In saying that, she felt when she let it get too far, it seemed to have a mind of its own. Her limit was the shoulders on both arms. After that, her heart would begin to race and it would travel down her torso. Elpis had sat in in some of the group training sessions, thoroughly enjoying watching them use their abilities. When the action did get too intense, she would run off and hide somewhere, mumbling something or other like danger or help.

It had come to the morning of the 21st and Oakley found herself in the cafeteria, eating breakfast with a book on Altantean history that Devon had found for her. She so dearly missed the Librarian's library but these books were almost as interesting. Almost. She would have to remember to ask him to borrow one of his books when he came back to headquarters.

"Learning anything?" Devon took a seat next to her, his plate filled with eggs and bacon. Overflowing almost, actually. Oakley glanced at her own bowl; half filled with oatmeal.

"Yeah, a little bit." She placed a bookmark on her page and put the book down next to her, and turning to him. She frowned at him almost instantly; something about him seemed... different. Off, maybe. "Did you get a haircut?"

"No. It's exactly the same. I mean, I shaved this morning I guess." He shrugged, ploughing into his food. He quickly, like he hadn't eaten for a few days. Oakley made a face, taking a small spoonful of her own breakfast. He would get sick if he ate so fast.

"Are you wearing makeup?"

He almost choked, laughing at Oakley. "No!" He swallowed, taking the napkin next to him and wiping his face. "Why? What's wrong?"

"I don't know, you just... look different." She turned her head on the side, looking at the other side of his face. What was it? "Hmm. Oh, do you know what we're doing today?" Devon took another mouthful of food and swallowed, nodding as he did so.

"Yeah. I heard that most of the juniors are going to Paris. Julian's taking us. To clean or help or something, I don't know. It's been pretty quiet this past week, I guess they're trying to find stuff for us to do. We might find some neat stuff under the rubble." Devon finished off his plate, using his napkin to wipe his face off again.

"Or bodies." Oakley said sadly.​

 

[Swolligator]

Renegade Flat, London, England

Morning of November 21st, 2012

It was early morning in the Renegade house when Enrique stretched his arms up in the air, stretching to his fullest extent to wake his muscles up. On the bed next to him Scott was still asleep and snoring his head off. Grabbing a Sharpie from Scott's bedside table, Enrique snickered as he lightly drew on a small moustache beneath Scott's nose. Replacing the Sharpie, he leaned back on his bed to see the full extent of his handiwork and couldn't help but laugh at how stupid Scott looked now. Scott began to wake, turning over onto his other size causing Enrique to quickly scattered from the room. Grabbing his towel on the way out, he sprinted for the bathroom knowing that soon Nora would be up.

He was almost to the door when something electrical-like slammed into his back sending him flying forward. From behind him he could hear the soft footsteps as Nora drew near. Index finger pointed and thumb in the air like her hand was a gun, she lightly blew the tip as if she had fired a real shot.

Turning over, Enrique made a gesture of punching in her direction and soon Nora was blasted backwards by an invisible force. "Suck on that!" He yelled before slamming and locking the door to the bathroom. Outside the door he could hear Nora running and soon she was banging on the door, cursing with no stop at him.

"Get your ass out here you son of a-" her voice cut short as Enrique turned on the water, slipping into the shower.

The hot water jettisoning from the shower head quickly warmed up his body. He could feel the folds of sleep loosing grasp on him as steam began rising around him. It was always a competition between him and Nora to whom got the first shower, not that it really mattered to him anyway. If anything he just enjoyed annoying the hell out of Nora for the sake of it rather than for any personal reasons. No doubt she had given up screaming now and resigned to heading downstairs for breakfast. As he enjoyed the shower, Enrique began twisting his hands around each other, forming a small tornado within his palm. A minute later and he had several miniature hurricanes circling the bottom of the shower.

He began to hum a song he must have heard on the radio, a catchy but annoying song that had somehow gotten stuck in his head. Instead of singing the lyrics like any normal person would, Enrique decided to make up his own. "Don't you ever say I just flew away, I will never come back,"

Shaking his head from side to side, Enrique wasn't quite good at thinking up lyrics on the spot, but he still wouldn't quit. "I can't stop myself, destroying all this life, I will never come back,"

"I came in on a hurricane," around his legs the miniature hurricanes spurred into greater life, growing in size and spinning slightly faster.

"Didn't know the city name," he began singing louder.

"All I wanted was to f*ck sh*t up,"

A loud banging echoed from the door, "Shut the hell up and have your shower, idiot. Some of us need a shower too y'know!" Nora yelled from the other side of the door causing Enrique to lose his focus and the hurricanes to dissipate.

"Now Nora's telling me to, shut-ut-ut up…" Enrique sung at the top of his lungs just to annoy Nora even more before turning the water off and getting out of the shower.

When the door finally opened Enrique stood with one arm against the door frame, the other holding the fold in the towel around his waist. "Eyyy Chica, you come here often?" He said in the thickest Hispanic accent he could dredge up.

"Move it, dickhead," Nora pushed past Enrique and, once he was out, slammed the door behind her.

Grinning like a madman, Enrique made his way back down the hall and into the room he shared with Scott. Poking his head in first, he saw that the coast was clear and that Scott was most likely downstairs eating breakfast with the others. It didn't take him long to get dressed and once he had, he made his way downstairs like a gust of wind. When he emerged on the ground floor, only Scott and a dismissive looking Andre were at the table eating breakfast. He joined them and quickly learnt that Andre wasn't very impressed about Scott's new facial feature; Andre giving him the "you gotta be kidding me" look. He smiled at Andre before digging into some bacon and eggs.

"Morning guys," Luciana started as she made her way into the dining room.

"Morning Luciana, what's up?" Scott asked, turning around to face her while grinning wildly.

Luciana stopped, looking from Scott to Andre and back then Scott to Enrique and back. She dropped the comb she had been holding before turning around and storming back up the stairs yelling, "I'm so not dealing with this sh*t today."

Scott waited until he heard a door slam before turning around to Andre and Enrique, "Is it something I said?" he asked them both, a little puzzled. Andre simply shook his head and Enrique had to hold his nose to stop himself snorting in laughter.

A few minutes later and Nora came down the stairs, hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. "What's gotten into Luci-" Nora stopped just as Scott turned around to say 'good morning' to her, noticing the black vivid smeared across his upper lip in a toothbrush-moustache style. "Scott, have you been on those White Power sites again?" She asked condescendingly.

"No, ma'am," he saluted to Nora causing her to drop her face into her hands, "not since ya'll told me it was a bad site." He shoved a piece of toast in his mouth and continued on oblivious to the markings on his upper lip.

Nora then turned to Enrique, "Really? After he used your shaver to shave his head, you go and do this?" Nora let out a sigh, the two of them were like little children sometimes and she was not in the mood to be running around after them like a mother. "Scott, have a shower before we leave, make sure to wash your face. Enrique, stop being a loser all your life." Grabbing a piece of toast from the table, Nora headed back upstairs to style her hair.

"Eyy, the Chica is even more hot when she's angry," Enrique muttered before shovelling in another mouthful of bacon and eggs.​

 

[Legend]

Atlantean Royal Mansion, Boston, England

November 21st, 2012

"That's not right," Nathaniel said with a groan, clenching his fist tight. The pile of ice crystals on the floor grew larger as a glove of ice fell to pieces and tumbled to the ground with a shatter. Half of the ice had melted creating a small of cold water on the hardwood floor, which already appeared to be warping ever so slightly. The pool reflected the light of the morning sun that peeked through the curtains. Yet despite the light's best efforts, it did not snap the concentration of the young Atlantean. Again, Nathaniel focused on his arm, covering it with a sheet ice. It didn't feel right as he tightened his fist. The ice cracked ever so slightly, revealing his pale flesh beneath it. "That's not right, either." The ice armor crumbled to the ground, making an even larger pile. His whole body grew tense as he shuffled in his seat.

The bed creaked and Nathaniel turned to see why. "You didn't sleep again." Antonia's frustrated expression was easy to see through the covers. "It's been almost a week, Nate. You need to get some sleep," she said, sitting up and weakly hugging him from behind.

"I can't…afford to sleep. Not right now," he finally said, hardly budging an inch. He simply stared at his right hand, as specks of ice fell quietly to the ground.

"And why would that be?" Antonia protested, watching his hand with far less fervor. She instead looked into his solemn expression. He had been like this for days now. Dark circles hung under his eyes, further exasperated by his progressively paler skin. Nathaniel barely left his room unless it was to train or to eat. Occasionally the Royal Guard succeeded in dragging him out, but that's only with heavy persuasion on her part. Even then, there were moments where Nathaniel slammed the door on her, literally and metaphorically. It was a miracle she forced herself into his room last night, but then again, she didn't exactly always wait for an invitation.

"I just can't. I-" Nathaniel bit his tongue, turning away from her.

Antonia let go of him and got up from the bed. She quickly changed her clothes without as much as whisper or hint of hesitation. Nathaniel could feel that she had hit her breaking point, holding no more patience for his behavior. "If you are going to be like this, I'm leaving. Nobody likes a guy who sits around and demands pity," Antonia said making her way for the door.

Nathaniel ground his teeth as the sting of the words pierced him. "I…I never told you what the Oracle said to me did I?" He rose from his seat on the bed, walking around his puddle towards Antonia. She was halfway out the door but turned back to face him, closing the door behind her. Without uttering a word, she made it clear she was listening. Part of her didn't want to.

"She told me that 'from the ashes, the cold rise' and that 'a Frozen Vanguard shall pave the way. Havoc and pain shall follow but Paradise awaits.' I am to 'follow my heart.' I don't know what it means, but—"

"Just because she said that doesn't mean it is true. You know, I don't believe what she says. It may not mean any-"

"But what if I do Antonia?" Nathaniel said, raising his voice and throwing up his arms in frustration. "What then!? They aren't a lot of ways to read what this…this prophecy. We aren't safe and…and somehow all…all of this is going to fall to ruin. And then I am suddenly supposed to lead us!?" Nathaniel gestured around the room, the frustration in his body mounting. It as if of all the pent of emotion burst at the seems. "I-I'm not strong enough to lead anyone. Not yet. I have to push myself. I have to master this ability so when the time comes…if it comes, I am ready. That maybe I can step up and do whatever I need to do. I am not going to learn how to take that next step by sitting around pretending like everything is fine! Because it's not. But I have no idea what I'm doing. I can't even…I can't even change my body into ice anymore. I did it before! But now? Nothing! If anything, I am getting weaker. How am I supposed to do anything if I don't have the strength?"

Antonia fell quiet, as Nathaniel's strange behavior began to finally make sense. She knew he was the serious type, but this was a bit out of left field. He kept all of this in. All this anger. All this anxiety. Everything was bottled up. And now, it was out there. She could tell it was hard on him. But, she knew she wanted to help. "Well, maybe you shouldn't think so much and do what she said. Follow your hea-"

"Oh, that's ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥," Nathaniel quickly snapped, dismissing her outright. Antonia was not pleased and she simply stared at him. Emotions were tense; that much was obvious. Nathaniel sighed as he took a breath. "I'm sorry," he said collapsing back into his bed, burying his face into hands. Antonia silently accepted the apology and sat beside him. "I never been one for 'going with my gut.' I always liked to learn everything I could about something and then make the logical choice. The smart choice. The only choice. But now, I haven't been able to do that. Lately it just feels like I'm being thrown from situation to another like some hapless character in a children's story. Half the time, I'm fending for my life. The other half, I sit around with no idea what's going on."

"I'm sure a lot of us are going through the same thing. You aren't alone, Nate. You don't have to put the burden of the whole world on your shoulders. We can help you," Antonia said, gently running her fingers through his hair. "But sometimes, we have to take things one step at a time and go with flow. Overthinking things is just going to get in the way." Antonia got up and offered a hand to Nathaniel, urging him to get up. "Just trust me okay?"

He accepted her hand and got up from his makeshift seat. "Alright. I'll try."

Antonia quickly kissed him on the cheek. "Good. Now, get ready. We got class."

Nathaniel's content expression turned to a frown. He hated class. "Um, aren't we a bit late?" Nathaniel added, gesturing towards the clock in his room.

"Aw, crap."

​

 

[SV]

San Diego, California, United States

November 21st, 2012


Luke could see his breath fogging in front if him as the street light behind them illuminated the air leaving his mouth. He wasn't a fan of the winter months, preferring to head somewhere south during them, but business dictated that he were to be here. He eyed James over as the boy got dressed noting the familiarites between him and his father. Of course Luke had had children of his own over the years but none had resembled him quite like James resembled his own father. Maybe it was an Atlantean thing, he was unsure. What he was sure of was that she had been right about him appearing here. With her prophecies being famously obscure, he was surprise at the fact his sister had been so clear about this one.

"Mister Hazen, my name is Luke, Luke Cypher. If you want we can talk out here in the cold or in my car." He motioned over his shoulder to the motor vehicle running outside the substation, "it has heated seats after all..."

After putting on his clothes, James glanced at the man who introduced himself as Luke for only a brief second before heading toward the car behind him. For the moment, he spoke no words nor offered any objections to hitching a ride. He was silent, mostly because his thoughts were still focused on his recent experience as a part of pure energy. He was inside the car now, but he wasn't fully there yet. It would take some time to get used to being back to the way things were, if they ever really could go back.

Once inside, Mister Cypher signalled to the driver to head off from the power station while the two of them sat in the back seats. "Is there anything I can get you? Food? Drink?" Luke turned in his seat to face James.

"I'm fine," James replied softly, once again only barely gazing at the direction of Luke, glancing as well briefly at the driver, and then propping an elbow onto the side of the car, and resting his head on his closed hand. He began watching the sights as they passed by the car in a mesmerized reticence. His thoughts only briefly wandered to where he was, or more precisely where he was going.

"Well I'll cut to the chase, then. I have a business proposition of sorts for you, one where we can both benefit immensely." Luke felt a little disheartened at James' ignorance, but then again who knew if the boy was still alright after such an ordeal. "As well as offering you a place to live, I will also let you do as you see fit. Even to some extent, I can aid you in whatever endevours you wish to part-take. Does this sound good to you, Mister Hazen?" Luke bit his tongue in anticipation of James' reply.

James listened quietly to the man, keeping his eyes fixated to objects that passed by outside of the window. When Luke awaited his reply, James took a few extra seconds before giving an answer. "...sure," He finally said, taking his eyes off the road and gazing at the man, this time keeping his eyes on him. "But what's the catch?"

"It's simple. At some point in the near future I will require of you, an action to be taken at my bequest. You promise to do this one thing for me and I will give you what you want, when you want until such time as I call upon you." Luke smiled, his pearl white teeth reflecting the light making his oversized canine's appear strikingly sharper. He was sure that James now giving him his attention meant that the boy was the least bit interested in his proposition.

James continued to listen quietly, his eyes trailing across Luke's features as he did so. He was a somewhat darker man, with olive skin, perhaps from some southern European, Mediterranean descent. as well as a strong jawline and piercing brown eyes. He was direct and to the point, something James could go behind, but also mysterious and cryptic, something most people with Atlantean ties also shared. At this point, James assumed any further attempt to uncover any more information would be pointless, and he wasn't in any particular mood to try. He turned away from Luke, and continued his silent gaze back out the window. "Yeah, sure why not." He replied finally with a shrug.

"Perfect!" Luke cried gleefully, excited to have James on board. Lights now began flickering through the window as the car made it's way into the city of San Diego. "Driver, take us to the hotel," he ordered and the suited man simply nodded in agreement. Luke enjoyed the perks of being wealthy in today's world; money could get you so much further now than it could centuries back. "Mister Hazen, are you aware of where you are currently situated?"

He ignored the question, instead electing to focus on the outside of the window. They were deep in the city now. James continued to stare blankly and inattentively at his surroundings. He sighed deeply, scanning all of the sights he could at each stop the car made. There were a multitude of bars and cars, and plenty of people walking around, laughing and talking to each other. People spoke and made their way to various locations on the street, going about their Tuesday night as they would have any other Tuesday night. For some reason, seeing them, and seeing the city as it were now was giving him a sickly feeling in his stomach. Yet he couldn't turn his eyes away.

The car made a stop on a traffic light. James fixated his eyes upon a certain group of young people talking on the corner of a street, right outside a bar. They were chatting in a small semi-circle, the group being made up of about half a dozen or so people, half girls and half guys. Each one took their turn talking, and occasionally a few would talk at the same time, and then they would laugh or smile. The traffic light was red for a while, and James observed the group as the process went around again, mostly going about the same way. One person talks, another follows, then another, a few talk at once, then laughter. That was their fun. Talk, talk, talk, laughter. The safety of structured enjoyment.

The light became green, but James had had enough. He pulled the handle on the door and stepped out. The group was in the middle of laughing again, perhaps at something one of the men, who had a shaved head, a thick goatee and some glasses, had just said. James stormed toward them, and began producing his own forced laughter to go along with their. "Ha. Ha. Ha," He began, joining the semi-circle of people, who all stopped laughing and looked at James confusedly. One of the females looked a bit anxious too. "Really funny," James continued, gazing at each one of the, beginning with the goateed male. "You talk, he talks, she talks, jumbled talk, we all laugh. Ha, ha ha!" He said, pointing fingers at each one of them he referred to. The group exchanged glances with each other, some of them, trying to hold back laughter.

"Uh, what?" One of the men of the group asked, confused.

"That's what you're doing," James explained. "One talks, another talks, another, then laughter. It's always the same..."

The man with the shaved head and the goatee began to chuckle and force the others away from James. Slowly each one of them began to follow him as they dispersed and walked away. "Haha, ok bro. Take it easy on the Coors. Have a good night."

"I plan to," James called back out to the group. "Wanna help me?" He shouted to the man as he walked further away. The man turned back and looked at James.

"Uh...what?"

James grinned at the man. "I'm gonna play a game. You, run the f*ck away, and I try to see how far I can shoot you." The man's expression instantly went from one of confusion to anger.

"What the f*ck did you just say to me?!" The man called back, stepping forward toward James. One of the other men with him pulled him back, as well as one of the girls as well. "Hey, just let it go, Ryan, he's f*cking insane." The man continued to push forward, despite the resistance that was met by his friends. "You've got a f*cking problem." The first man yelled back at James.

James lifted his hand. The crackling of sparks began to fly around it. The group instantly stopped in their tracks, including the goateed man. He widened his eyes. A few more sparks flew across James' hand, followed by a dozen more. Soon, the loud, sweet, familiar sound of crackling penetrated his ears, and the bright, rapid, chaotic lightning was present in his hand. The group instantly began to back away and turn to run. James pointed the lightning in his hand toward the group.

"Talk." He said, firing his first bolt, which shot through the air and hit the male with the goatee straight between the shoulderblades. He screamed in pain, sliding to the ground and hitting it with a thud. He was as still as a rock, with a black, burn mark on his back and smoke slowing rising from the wound. "Talk," James said again, firing another round at another one of the males. Again, he was hit on the back, and after releasing a loud yell of horror and pain, he too fell to the ground. "Talk," He said once more, and synchronized it with another release of a lightning bolt, this time toward the head of one of the females. She made not scream upon impact, but was crying and yelling the entire time before she was hit. She then collapsed on the floor.

"And then what? Oh yeah," James began to laugh softly to himself, firing off another set of lightning bolts, now on whoever he saw in his sights, as all of them ran and screamed away from him. Now, this is fun.

Luke smiled a wide smile as he watched James wreck havoc on the populous. James was utterly bat sh*t crazy, a loose cannon but one he would be able to direct. This was definitely the horse he wanted to back in the coming days. In the distance he could hear the wailing of sirens as no doubt the police and medics had been called. As much as he was annoyed at them being on their way, it would definitely make things more interesting if they even tried to subdue James.

Stepping out of the car, Luke motioned to James, "Take this," he threw James a black cellphone, the edges of it rimmed with rubber. "It's a rubber insulated cellphone that should withstand your electrical prowess to a degree. When you feel like coming home, give Mitchell here a ring and he'll procure you and bring you home."

James caught the phone, looking between it, the driver, and Luke, before nodding in agreement. Luke stepped back into the car, moving over to shut James' door as well. The boy had just spent nine days as pure energy, he had no qualms about him galivanting around town getting use to his human body again. When Luke had first learnt to master his own ability, he spent hours everyday utilising it in whatever ways possible. "Let's return, Mitchell, I have some business to attend to in the mean time." With a wave from Luke, Mitchell simply nodded before putting his foot down and speeding away.​

 

[Swolligator]

Denver, Colorado, United States

November 21st, 2012

"Vic, watch out!" Gamer yelled from across the street as the building began tumbling down over top of him.

Facing his palms towards the building, Vic pushed himself backwards as his ability flickered into action. It was a bit uneven, causing Vic to be pushed on an angle, but it got him out of the dangerous scenario nonetheless. He still wasn't used to the feel of using his ability against himself, but he was quickly grasping a hold of what he could and couldn't do. At first they had believe it was some sort of telekinesis, but Vic couldn't control the movement of any objects and pushed them in a direction instead. On closer inspection it was soon revealed that Vic manipulated the push force from himself or other objects. When he had begun training, all he seemed to do was push objects away from himself, yet as the days wore on he soon learned that he could push himself away from objects as well.

Looking around, he spotted a lady trapped in a car. Rubble and bricks piled up around her doors while a telephone pole lay across her bonnet. Breathing in, Vic then thrust his hands out as he breathed out, forcing his ability to blow the top layer of rubble. It took four more pushes, but eventually enough was clear to be able to rescue the lady. Racing over to the car, he yanked on the door handle as hard as possible, pulling it open from its jammed position. Crawling into through the passenger's seat, he quickly felt her weak pulse around her neck before carefully pulling her out from inside the car. With her unconscious in her arms, he started running away from the others and around to behind a building where ATLAS had set up a medical area. Head down and holding her close to his body, Vic willed himself to continue his effort as sweat continued to pour down his forehead. Dust caked his clothes as he had already been in and out of several destroyed shops rescuing civilians while the others tried to subdue the rogue Atlantean.

"All heat signatures are clear," the striking woman known as Amanda Tell noted to the others. She released the button on the earphone and watched Vic deposit the body of the woman on a stretcher manned by two medics. "Nice work, Victory." She commended him through a stern face. She continued to watch the others battle it out with an Atlantean in the streets.

Having only nine days of training, Vic wasn't allowed to be out in the field fighting with the others, and had to support them by rescuing and clearing civilians. He didn't mind the job, after all someone had to do it, but when he was finished all he could do was stand and watch the others take down the rogue Atlantean.

From this distance Vic could see Gamer and Harpy both floating in the air; Gamer held aloft by a pair of wings made from what looked like 8-bit streams of data while Harpy's wings were ragged and torn making Vic wonder just how she managed to keep herself aloft. The two seemed to be darting around a man in his late-twenties, piles of rubble, bricks and masonry scattered around his feet. The two kept a safe distance from the man as he seemed to pick up the rubble using his mind and toss them at the girls as solid projectiles. He could vaguely see his hands wave around, the bricks and masonry at his feet seemingly controlled via invisible strings from his hands before being thrown at the girls. Harpy let out a scream before barrelling towards the man; her claws glinting in the moonlight. Her advance was stopped, causing her to pull upwards when a brick wall hurriedly built itself between her and the rogue Atlantean. Gamer then used this distraction to send a volley of 8-bit data towards the man, only for him to duck behind the wall once Harpy had pulled up. As her volley struck the wall, it crumpled before the bricks all started rushing towards her.

"Let me go, I can help them!" He begged with Amanda who continued to stare intensely at the battle.

"No, you're too weak." He waved him off to bring her binoculars up to her eyes.

Looking behind him, Vic could see that the other human agents were either busy caring for the injured or working on keeping the public away from the area. Frustrated with nothing to do, Vic decided to act of his own free will. No doubt Amanda would reprimand him at the end of the day but he couldn't handle not doing anything. Edging away from Amanda, he moved to a clear space where he could practice his ability. In theory he could be in the air like Harpy and Gamer; he just needed to focus on pushing himself off of the ground. Crouching down, he placed his hands firmly on the cool ground. Closing his eyes, he tried focussing on the connection between his palms and the ground, imagining a growing space as his ability repelled him upwards and off the ground. He felt it succeed and was about to cheer when only his arms were pushed up, causing him to fall backwards and his shoulders to ache in pain.

Steadying himself again, he tried with his shoulders and elbows locked slightly bent. Instead of closing his eyes, he watched as firstly his hands rose off the ground followed by a strange tugging sensation pulling his upper body skywards. Willing himself harder, Vic eventually got his legs off of the ground; floating a meter above it. Ecstatic with the progress he made, Vic grew more confident and tried pushing himself higher in the air. Behind him he could hear the gasps and cries of surprise as spectators watched him begin to float. Now he tried moving back and forth, side to side and down to get the hang of movement in the air. It started out as moving a few inches, but the more he moved the more natural and fluid it became. With sweat now beading down his head, Vic decided that he was ready to enter battle.

Surging forward while floating in mid-air, Vic made his way out from behind the building and into the street where the others were fighting. Up ahead was his first target; the masonry manipulator. Both Gamer and Harpy had their backs to him looking for an opening that the man refused to give. "Guys, I can help!" He yelled out to the others.

"Victory, get back!" Gamer yelled as she turned around, her eyes fierce.

He stopped when she was knocked back, Harpy's body colliding with Gamer's as she shielded her from a volley of masonry. Vic felt a pang of regret for distracting her and decided to fix it up.

"Oh, so you're the cavalry, huh?" The man laughed maniacally as he launched another volley of bricks at the floating Vic.

Surging forward at a faster pace, Vic dodged the projectiles as he skirted around the outside of the man. It was now that he realised just how tough the girls had it against this man. With the amount of rubble at his disposal much less the stuff scattered around him, he had more than enough projectiles and building material to keep the fight going for at least another hour. He kept moving until the guy had turned his back on the other two, focusing solely on Vic flying in the air.

"Hey, d*ckhead," Vic taunted, watching the man's face contort in anger at the name calling, "beating up girls because you can't fight a real man?"

"I will beat you like those girls, punk!" The man yelled back, summoning bricks and rubble around them to him.

Vic could only sit and watch as the man roared, bricks flying to him from left, right and centre. They attached to his body like they were magnetised, and soon he went from and individual shy of six foot to an eight foot tall goliath of rubble. Bricks jutted out like spikes and massive finders the size of Vic's legs curled into fists. It was a monster with the head of a man and looked nothing like the guy he had taunted before. The animalistic roar that he echoed sent sparks flying up Vic's spine has he felt the same fear he had before when the bullies came down the hall.

A giant hand came sweeping through the air at Vic, causing him to pull his arms up to defend himself. The motion worked as the bricks flew apart causing the hand to burst apart up to the wrist but it also sent Vic flying backwards through a broken glass window and into a dust filled living room. His vision blurred and his back now ached from top to bottom. Amanda had been right, he wasn't ready for combat and he was going to get himself and the others killed because of it. He almost expected to see a giant fist and arm make its way through the same window he had come through. However, once his vision had cleared he wondered just why the man hadn't taken the opportunity to finish him off.

Crawling to hide under the window sill, Vic carefully looked over the bottom of the window to see what was stalling the man. His little confrontation with the man had given the girls enough time to recover and both were now laying siege, tearing his goliath brick suit apart. Scrambling to his feet, Vic made for the front door, busting through it into the hallway and down two flights of stairs. Once outside he made his way from cover to cover until he managed to make it back to the brick guy. With the other two flying overhead decimating him from above, Vic took the initiative to hit where the girls couldn't reach.

Taking his chance when the rogue Atlantean turned around; Vic sprinted forward until he was dodging between the guy's massive legs. Vic focussed on his hands; he had one shot to do this and needed the biggest push he could muster. Once his right foot landed, Vic released all the pent up energy he had left. Thrusting his arms wide, Vic fired one hand at each leg, feeling the push back on his own arms which was only a fraction of the push he was pushing out now. When his coalesced brick legs flew apart into a thousand pieces, Vic moved his arms from his side to behind him effectively propelling himself out from under the crumbling mass of brick. With the man crumbling to the ground, Gamer took the opportunity to soar in through the falling debris, catching the man around the neck and pulling him high into the air where his rubble could not reach.

"Enjoy prison, d*ckhead," Harpy smirked as she used her ratty wings to put a little bit of extra force into her punch; knocking the guy out cold.

When they landed on the ground, Amanda came rushing over with two lackeys following; one holding a pair of large red glove like cuffs. Vic watched as Harpy and Gamer instinctively backed away as the man with the gloves came near, aggressively sliding them over top of the rogue Atlantean's hands. With him secure the other lackey bent down as the two lifted the man up, supporting all his dead weight between their shoulders before carting him off.

"What are those?" Vic asked cautiously. Even without the girls' reactions, he felt within the fibres of his body that those cuffs were bad news.

"They're Dead Cuffs, scrub. It stops your ability from working." Gamer berated him like she always did for not knowing things.

Harpy, now back to her more human looking form stepped up next to Vic, "They're made from a blood-red crystal that most call 'anti-atlantite'. Unlike Atlantite which helps to filter and control your ability, this stuff acts like Kryptonite and strips anyone of their ability. You get close enough to that stuff, you'll be as weak as a human." She folded her arms across her chest as the three of them watched the man being carted off and loaded in a truck.

"Victory," Amanda's harsh voice now directed straight at him as she made a beeline towards the three of them standing there.

"You're in trouble, scrub." Gamer and Harpy both backed away leaving Vic in the spotlight.

"That was completely reckless. You did not have clearance to engage the enemy. WE run an operation which means that everyone does their part and does NOT interfere." Amanda remained calm and collected while she berated Vic, not even furrowing her brow, yet her words stung Vic like a hundred bees. "We will resume this back at headquarters," She looked past Vic as if he wasn't there anymore, "where are Tank and the other rogue?"

"They should be on their way…. now." Gamer smirked triumphantly while the others cringed as two figures fell from the sky, crashing into the side of a building behind them. Dust and rubble flew up around them.​

 

[Swolligator]

Syndicate HQ, Birmingham, England

November 21st, 2012

Dropping his assault rifle on the table, Wyatt made an immediate beeline for the couch and promptly slumped onto the soft cushions. They had spent the entire day staking out and hitting branches of Waite Pharmaceuticals that everyone was on the brink of collapsing in exhaustion. They had found out little more than they already knew and still had many more to hit. However on the way home the Directive had told them all that things would be a lot harder; the company now knew they were being targeted and would take preventative measures.

Wyatt opened his eyes, watching the others all lounging gratefully in whatever comfy furniture they could. Jeremy had done the most work out of the all, collapsed with head tilted back and mouth agape on the armchair. On the other sofa Fletcher was curled up in a little ball; his eyes closed and his breathing soft and shallow. Next to him Pyrrha and Daemon leaned against each other, Daemon's head on Pyrrha's shoulder with her head on top of his. October and Adrian had already passed through the room and headed to their bedroom while Seamus, the last to enter, collapsed onto the rug lying between the two couches with a mighty thump. Rolling from his side onto his back, he stretched his arms and legs out to their fullest extent before shifting to click several joints.

"I'm completely shattered, like more than usual!" Seamus exclaimed from the ground. Those still awake were so exhausted they could do nothing but laugh at the Irish boy; his accent sending them into fits of giggles.

"I'm completely shattered," Jeremy mocked from the arm chair in his bad impersonation of an Irish accent, "diddly-dee potatoes" he said before hyperventilating in laughter, causing the others to spiral yet again into a fit of laughter.

"Ooh, look at me, my name is Wyatt, I can see through skirts!" Seamus mocked Wyatt who had tears of laughter streaming down my face "I carry a gun because my d*ck is so small!"

Wyatt tried to stop himself laughing but only coming up with coughing laughs. "I'm October, my milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard!" Wyatt began a masturbation motion with his right hand before making his entire arm spasm in mock of her ability.

"I am Jeremy," Daemon started in his stunted English, "I fart when teleport." No one could hold their composure at a fart joke; even Fletcher whom had been resting his eyes now shook with giggles.

Their laughing session carried on for another couple of minutes before Jeremy pushed himself out of the armchair and made a beeline for Fletcher. "it's bed time," he said before picking Fletcher up and disappearing with his signature 'pop'. Daemon launched into another round of giggles as he remembered his fart joke from earlier.

"I'm off too guys," Wyatt pushed himself off the couch before offering his hand for Seamus to take. With a hefty tug backwards, Wyatt helped the Irish boy to his feet as the two of them followed Jeremy's idea of heading to bed.

"I'll join you," Seamus spoke as both himself and Wyatt leant hands to Daemon and Pyrrha respectively to help them off the couch. All four shuffled off to their rooms, whispering a round of 'goodnights' before shutting the doors to their rooms.

Wyatt now glad to be back in his own little section of paradise, promptly fell onto his bed fully clothed after saying goodnight. Lying on his stomach, he wrapped his arm around the pillows at the head of his bed, drawing them closer before nuzzling into them. Ignoring the fact that he still had his Syndicate-issue uniform on, Wyatt closed his eyes and gave into the gently embrace. As the folds of sleep washed over him, he felt a sudden tugging in his stomach like someone was pulling on a cord attached to his midriff. Giving into the sensation, he let himself be dragged down into the deeper facets of sleep.

When Wyatt awoke, all his senses tingled as he felt strangely out of place. The soft mattress of his bed had been replaced by something bumpy and fleshy and his head felt extremely heavy. Opening his eyes, he promptly pushed himself off of the piled of dead bodies he had been sleeping on. Frantically wiping at his clothes, Wyatt tried to remove any traces of the bodies from his own but soon noticed that there was nothing on his clothes. Instead of the Syndicate-issue uniform he had fallen asleep in, he was wearing jeans, a sweatshirt and boots.

Looking up from his clothes he couldn't help but cringle at the rather large pile of dead bodies that looked like they had all been simply dumped on top of each other. Some wore strange, ethnic clothes while others wore clothes that dated back in time. He could swear beneath the pile of bodies there was a steel gauntlet glintering in the dull light. What puzzled him more was that many of the bodies looked like they had come from different times, yet all were still fully clothed and looked like they had been freshly killed. But even they looked washed and grey in the dull light while his skin and clothing seemed bolder; standing out against it. He couldn't even smell anything in the air to suggest these bodies were even partway rotting.

Finally settling down enough, he tried looking up in what he thought was the sky but it was like a giant grey fog enveloped the whole scene. Looking around him in every direction was the same creepy fog, but what made it even creepier was that out of the corner of his eyes he swore he could see things moving in the fog. People, animals, cars, planes, yet every time he turned to focus on it the pictures shifted to the still grey fog. Breathing in deeply, Wyatt tried accessing his ability like he had learnt over the past month, willing his eyes to switch vision, but it was to no avail. In this weird dream world he was alone, powerless and scared.

Turning away from the bodies he tried walking into the fog, but it was so thick that it seemed like he was trying to walk through a wall of curtains. Yet still he pressed on, putting one foot in front of the other and both pushing and willing himself forward until the fog began to part. Excited, he could feel the heaviness began to lift from around his body and he pushed forward expecting to break the fog into someplace else. Instead, he arrived in the same spot where he had awoken, looking at the dead lifeless eyes of those people. It seemed like the dream was preventing him from escaping this one scene.

Something soon caught his eye. The pile of bodies was large and vast, but every so often a body had a strange tattoo revealed. At his feet and 80's dressed man had the tattoo design clearly on the side of his face while another girl wearing a Chinese cheongsam had the design tattooed on the side of her thigh. Another girl dressed punk-like showed similar markings peering out from the bottom of her sleeve while a dark-skinned man had his on his right side chest. Not wanting to touch the bodies, he could see that many more shared similar markings and wondered if they had all been a part of some era-spanning cult.

His gaze soon drifted over another couple of bodied before stopping on one that didn't quite fit. Her blonde hair was splayed outwards as her pale skin and colour rich clothing stood out against the rest. Taking in a deep breath, Wyatt felt his heart skip a beat as he stood frozen, rooted to the spot. It had been years since he had last seen that childish face and all the baby fat had long since left. He was on the brink of tears knowing that she was here, and he hoped that she wasn't dead like the rest.

Wyatt raced over to her, grabbing her shoulders and gently shaking her, "Oakley," he cried out her name, "Oakley! Please don't be dead!" he pleaded as he shook her. Every possible scenario was now racing through his head as his heart felt like it was slowly shredding into pieces in his chest. Tears that had been brimming at the sides of his eyes now began flowing down his cheeks and evaporating before they hit her shirt.

"Oakley!" He cried out once more.

"She's alive," a soft, child-like giggle erupted from behind him, causing Wyatt to turn to the small figure. She looked to be up to his elbow height and maybe a couple years older than Fletcher. She wore a toga-like dress with embroidered patterns that he had never seen before; looking like she stepped out of some alternative Classical Roman-esque movie.

"What are we doing here? Where are we? Who are you?" Wyatt had a hundred questions racing through his mind as he stood back up, turning his back to the unconscious Oakley figure. "Why is she like this?"

"I will tell you when everyone wakes up, silly," She giggled again, it now sounding creepy. "As for Oakley, she just needs to fall asleep is all."

"What do you mean, she is already asleep!" Wyatt's heart was racing a thousand miles a second; he hated feeling like he was out of the blue, like he knew nothing at all. It was the first time in years he had seen his kid sister and now she was unconscious on a pile of bodies.

"When she falls asleep, she'll wake up here." The girl reiterated waving her hand at the pile of bodies. Looking around he noticed six other bodies flushed with colour that stood out against the grey palate of this world.

"Who are they? Who are you?" Wyatt asked again, his heart still thumping in his chest albeit at a slower pace. Looking to each of the other six faces, Wyatt recognised the dark skinned girl he had called 'Skrillex' back on the boat where Jeremy had been kidnapped. Aside from her and Oakley, none of the other faces registered as him ever making contact with them.

"They are the World Changers, and I am Selephial. But most call me the Oracle, Wyatt." Her childish tone made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Sure he had called out Oakley's name, but how the hell did she know his own. He was about to ask another question when this child 'Oracle' brought her finger to her lips, hushing Wyatt. He turned around to see the others begin to stir, "They're asleep," she whispered before giggling.

Excited, Wyatt turned around to crouch down in front of Oakley. With tears of joy brimming in his eyes, he waited for her to stir so that he could reunite with her at last.​

 

[SV]

San Diego, California, United States

November 21st, 2012

Warning: Post contains some stuff, watch out now

James could hear the police sirens in the distance. They weren't too close yet, which gave James a chance to think about what he wanted to do next. Every action he would take now, no matter how big or small, would be fueled by his desire. He was pure id, with no ties or loyalties that he would outright pledge to. And he wouldn't follow anyone. So each decision on how to act moving forward was based on what he wanted. Currently, as much as he'd like shooting up some police officers, he preferred not to get shot at. At least, not there. As frantic people dispersed in all directions from the him, James elected to run as well. He turned the corner, siphoning power from nearby lamps as he passed under them, and disappeared into an alley, running through and appearing out the other end. He kept running through smaller streets, stopping after a while to catch his breath.

He was now in a more residential area a few blocks away from the main streets. The police sirens were still faint in the distance, but he figured he was away from immediate danger for now. James began to once again casually walk across the streets, as if nothing were amiss. To his right, he could see the shining downtown of San Diego. If he walked along the current street he was on, he probably would be able to get out of the residential district and to the center of the city in less than twenty minutes. He wanted an audience. The police would eventually find him there. That was what he wanted. So there was were he went.

James had a plain, strangely calm demeanor as he strutted the relatively empty streets along the way. One look at him wouldn't give anyone any reason to suspect him as an Atlantean with superpowers. Or a vicious murderer. Or a deranged psychopath, as many would put it. He walked across road to the other side, occasionally glancing left and right at the houses around. Many of them were dark, the owners either out or were asleep. They lined up, side by side, their grass neatly cut, their cars nicely washed, and their roads tidely swept. They were uniform, proper, ordinary. They were perfect in every contemporary, expected, societal way, and that was why James hated them.

Along the road, a light in the living room of one of the houses still remained lit. James couldn't bare it anymore. He approached the place, clenching his fists. The lights across the street each began to flicker, turn off, and then explode as he drew as much energy as he could from them. The dimly light street was now dark as all of the lights nearby were out. James stood in front of the door, peering into the lit house from the window. The TV was on, loudly, and a few people were gathered in front of it on the couch. James stuck his hand forward, and concentrated. In his mind, he could feel the energy that flowed through the house. There was the television, the lights plugged in downstairs, the different devices plugged into the outlets, the alarm system. James had sucked in air, letting the electricity pass from the houses into his hand as he rang the doorbell.

"Really? At this hour?" James could hear a man grumble from the open window. He heard footsteps moving to the front door, before he opened up the door to greet James. "Yeah, what do yo-"

The man was suddenly propelled back, being hit directly in the chest by the volts James was gathering up from their house. He felt the aftershock tingle in his arm after the hit, immediately followed by the screaming of two females from the left next to the TV. James entered the house, and viewed the family to the left. The man who was shot by the bolt was lying dead to his right, while an older woman stood in front of two children, one younger girl in her early teens, and a boy probably no older than five. "Please, please! Take anything you want, just don't hurt my children!" The older woman implored to James. James merely scoffed, lifting up his other hand and blasting the woman away. The girl screamed, streams of tears beginning to pour down her face. The younger boy merely looked on with wide eyes in utter shock. He sat crouched in the corner of the house frozen in place.

James' eyes went from the woman on the ground to the two remaining children in front of him. He placed his hands on his hips casually and thought for a moment. The two terrified children looked on at him, with the girl taking occasional glances toward her mother and father. "You know..." he began, taking his hands of his hips and letting them drag to his sides. "...they say even the crazies don't hurt the children. Because after all, it's the children!" He exclaimed. James turned his back to them, and walked a few steps forward, before stopping. "But...I'm not them." James quickly turned around and fired two precision bolts directly at the children, leaving the entire family lying dead on the ground. He looked around, satisfied with his work, before proceeding to fire bolts of lightning all across the various objects in the living room. The TV, the couch, the walls, portraits and other devices. All faced his wrath. Then, when he believed he was satisfied with his work, he prepared to leave the home.

That's when he heard the sound of a baby upstairs. James turned back around into the house. He walked toward the stairs, and proceeded to climb them, before he heard a small voice emerge from the man he had first shot when he entered the house. "Please....please don't," He implored James. James turned back to the man, walking up to him, and kneeling over him, balancing himself on the balls of his feet while his arms hung over his knees. "Please, I'm begging you...he's just a baby. Please,"

"Sorry, man. You all have to go today," James replied casually.

"Please don't do this, please.Why? Why? Why are you...why are you doing this?"

James sighed, lifting up his hand to the man's face, as electricty charged in his palm. "I've seen what man is, and I've seen what I can become." He released the bolt directly at the man's skull, this time without a doubt killing him. "The world has no need for you." James stood up, continuing to hear the sounds of a baby crying. He proceeded up the stairs.

He exited the house a few minutes later, and headed down the street toward downtown. As he got closer, he noticed the return of sirens and the increase of police activity. By the time he began reaching the big streets under the large buildings of downtown, James quickly began inhaling as much energy as he could muster, and quickly firing it at anyone and anything in his vision. He fired upon cars, street signs, people, and police officers. All the while, he tried to see the extent of his ability, how much energy he could take in at once, how much he could fire before becoming drained, and how much it took for a killing blow. The longer he remained outside on the streets, the more he learned about his ability. Consequently the longer he remained outside, the more and more he realized police began appearing out of every available street. He began to go on the move, avoiding the bulk of them while firing everything he could to slow them down. Firing at their cars momentarily fried the vehicle's frequencies to prevent them from navigating forward correctly. Firing forward at the drivers ensured them to slow down and clog up the streets, allowing for James to maneuver easier, while slipping past the officers.

The he suddenly felt a sharp pain originating from the back of his shoulder. He grunted and cried out, turning to see another officer with his gun raised. James quickly retaliated with his other arm, before clutching his injured arm, and running down another small street. He heard more raised sirens and raised voices. James sprinted down the alley into an opening leading to the back of a building. He paused for a moment to examine his injury, with blood present on his free hand, confirming to him that he had been shot at the shoulder. He shook his head and chuckled to himself, feeling the adrenaline pump through him as he tried to make it up a ladder he spotted onto the roof of an adjacent building. As he made it to the top, he ran to the side of the building, and looked down at the path from which he came, seeing the destruction that was left along the way. James smiled to himself. "Yeah, that's enough fun for the night." He reached into his pocket, taking out the cell phone given to him earlier, and dialed the number inputted, before collapsing on the roof.

​

 

[Skymin]

???

November 21st, 2012
As soon as Oakley felt herself drift off to sleep, her eyes seemed to flicker open, though what she saw in front of her was definitely not what she had expected. She had fallen asleep on the plane on the way back from Paris after a rather tiring day of moving bits of cement around and trying to find any survivors who had managed to stay alive after all this time. They hadn't found much in the way of people (Devon had claimed to see some severed arms, though the thought of it made Oakley feel sick to the stomach).

The last thing she remembered as she closed her eyes was the hum of the plane and the other AUP members seated around her, either talking or going to sleep themselves. That was not what met her as she seemed to wake up again. Instead a familiar-looking face stared back at her -- one she had not seen for some time, yet couldn't put her tongue to his name. Who did he look like? Was it her father? She couldn't think straight right now, but she knew if she waited a moment, her brain would catch up to her eyes.

"Where am I?" She murmured quietly, blinking the grogginess out of her eyes and looked to her hands instinctively to help herself up. She pushed up, though what her hand came in contact with woke her up far quicker than a familiar face. Her hand felt the slimy texture of an arm, lacking the warmth of one that belonged to someone who was alive. She yelped and screamed, kicking the bodies underneath her and scrambling backwards quickly to get onto her feet. Why were there so many bodies?

"Wh-Where am I?!" She looked around her, her eyes only meeting more lifeless bodies. She turned back to the familiar boy. "Who a-a-are you?! Stay back!" She flicked her right arm out, expecting the armour to encase it to protect her. However, the strange feeling of the armour growing didn't follow, and she stopped and turned to her arm, frowning at it. She flicked it twice, three times, expecting at least her surprise to trigger the growth, but nothing happened. "What's going on?!"

"Oakley, calm down! It's me, Wyatt." He grabbed her by the shoulders, trying to keep eye contact with her in an effort to calm her. "Last I remember was falling asleep, why are you even here?" he glanced around at the others as they all stirred to life before returning to look at Oakley.

Wyatt? She hadn't seen him in what felt like forever. But this man wasn't the round face of the brother she remembered. "Let go of me!" She stepped back, flicking her right arm, then her left. Why wasn't it happening? When she hated the armour, it enveloped her. When she wanted it, it refused her call. What was going on? Her breathing began to increase rapidly and she took another step back, tripping on a body part and falling back onto her bottom. She looked at this 'Wyatt', frowning, shaking her head and uttering "no" a few times. Was that familiar face from the boat somehow haunting her? "This is some kind of s-s-sick dream."

Listening to her anguish pained Wyatt, he let go of her shoulders as she had asked and folded his arms across his chest. He had been expecting her to be just as excited as he was about meeting once again since their departure, but then again she had been young and probably knew less of him than he did of her. He flinched as she fell backwards onto the pile of bodies, almost wanting to lean down and give her a hand up. Then he remembered how she had yelled at him to let go of her and tightened his arms across his chest. "You got that right, just don't look behind you." As estranged from her as he was, he still felt overprotective of her. He glanced down at her arm, seeing the black ink ingrained on the inside of it. Instinctively he reached up and rubbed the mark that had appeared on the back of his neck; either she was more brave than he knew her to be, or she was Atlantean. "I didn't do this, did you?" he waved to the scene that enveloped them.

Oakley could not hear the words that Wyatt spoke, her hands trembling and she felt suddenly nauseous, but not because she was sitting in a pile of bodies. She recognised these signs anywhere, and it was something she thought that she had left behind long ago. Panic attacks were something that had frequently surrounded her at the time when her brother left and her mother's funeral. Why were they back? Did she really believe this was Wyatt? Or was it just an awful dream that she was having a hard time waking up from.

"Why," she wheezed, her voice barely above a whisper, her head throbbing from the crying she hadn't noticed yet, "why is this happening?"

"I don't know," he muttered under his breath. It had something to do with Atlantean since Skrillex behind them had displayed Atlantean abilities before and no doubt the others lying there had their own powers. But he didn't know, it was the same bothersome feeling like the universe was just trying to leave him out of everything. "I don't know, Oakley," he reiterated louder, "but we'll figure this out; it'll all be okay…"

"It's not okay!" She scrambled to her feet, running at Wyatt with her arms out ready to push him to the ground. Instead of shoving him, she passed through him, taking her by surprise as she fell back down to the ground and slid down a mound, falling onto her back. She picked herself back up, looking back at Wyatt with her bloodshot eyes. "Why did you leave? Why d-d-did you leave me and Dad? And Mum?!" She was furious, staring at him with piercing eyes.

Wyatt winced as Oakley phased through him like he wasn't there. "I didn't have a choice!" He turned around and yelled back at her, surprised as his own anger. He hadn't been angry beforehand but the way she spoke to him like he was the bad guy cut him deep making him lash out at her with his words. All that rage that he had pent up over the years because of his father's decision now bubbled to the surface like thick tar. "Dad sent me away and he was the reason she died. Don't you dare blame me for the actions of that selfish *sshole!"

"The reason! She d-died in Madrid! In a terrorist b-bombing, and it's his fault?" She bit her finger, flashes of her mother's funeral appearing before her eyes, her head throbbing more under the pressure of her emotions. She wanted even more than ever right now for her armour to appear and just encase her, hiding her from what she wasn't prepared to face and protecting her from whatever wounds that her brother had just tore open. "Where were you?"

"Where was I? I was in the middle of f*cking England with NO way of getting home. He left me alone and excluded me from the funeral. I did all that I could but he cut me off, he left me there feeling like absolute sh*t." Wyatt was proper fuming now, his breath heavy and shallow. "From the start it was always about Oakley! 'Wyatt take care of Oakley.' 'Wyatt don't be mean to Oakley.'" He mocked his parent's voices in a patronising tone. "I was nothing to him because he had his little girl and that was all that he ever wanted. You think you had it bad? You didn't see sh*t! Where were you when he stumbled off the plane drunk? Where were you when he blamed and pitied himself for mum's death?" Wyatt couldn't believe the words now coming from his mouth but they just seemed to flow up from the pit of his stomach.

"I was there! Right next to him at the funeral! And I was right beside him until I had to go back to school." She gasped for breath as the air around her seemed harder and harder to swallow. "I visited him every C-Christmas and you didn't… you never came back! I even brought you pr--" she gasped again, drifting off on the last word. She took another deep breath and continued, her voice growing louder. " You never showed your face! You didn't even h-h-have the f*cking," the cuss felt harsh and foreign as it escaped her lips, "decency to call. To call me." She hung her head for a moment, lowering her voice. "Do you even know where Dad lives now?"

Wyatt was paralysed; his sisters words stung like venom. The little girl he remembered chasing around the yard playing cops and robbers was now throwing swear words at him; it just didn't feel right. As much as he blamed their father for everything wrong happening, she blamed him. He never realised before just how much she had been affected. He felt bad, worse than that, he felt horrible for having said much less thought such things. His heart sunk to his stomach as all the anger washed from his body to be replaced with remorse. In his whole attempt to distance himself and punish his father, he hadn't realised he was doing the same to Oakley.

Wyatt cocked his head to the side at the mention of their father in Oakley's question, "Somewhere in London." He wasn't even sure that was where his father lived, but it was where the letters he had burned before opening had come from. He had left their father alone in Heathrow before returning to school; as far as Wyatt was concerned his father had been dead for this last decade.

"Y-yeah." She sniffed, breath quavering. "So. Where were you?"

"Nowhere important. I'm…" Wyatt faltered, he couldn't fathom the words to follow they just all stuck in his throat like glue. "I'm sorry." he finally coughed up.

Oakley went silent, looking away. She had nothing left to say to him. Wyatt too let the silence fall between them. Inside he was a raging turmoil that he slowly bottled away. The rest of the others didn't need to see their dysfunctional relationship with one another and this wasn't really the place for them to be having this argument. Looking over Oakley's shoulder he could see the dark-skinned girl from back on the boat, the one he had bumped into while rescuing the Atlantean kids.

"Oi, Skrillex," he called out, "where are we?"​

 

[Retro Bug]

???

November 21st, 2012


Something had happened after Delta fell asleep, when she opened her eyes and the next thing she was greeted by was not the same satisfying dreams she had gotten used to the past few nights, she groaned. No, instead Delta was in a place brimming with corpses and fog that wouldn't part. After the day she had put herself through, all the training, taking care of Elpis, and a mission which she had dedicated too much time and effort to Delta wanted to sleep without dreams, especially one that seemed endless. There around her stood people who weren't dead, but Delta wished they were.

All of the faces that were present Delta recognized, unfortunately. The closest individuals next to her were naturally Dom and Thayne, but the others that were nearby were Nate, James, some girl she had saw briefly on the boat, Oakley, and Wyatt. Why the hell would she dream about them? Especially meeting in a place like this...

Delta turned toward the name, which she had been called on the boat, with fists tightly clenched, she wasn't aware that they hadn't crystallized. If anything she should've killed him then and there, after the first time he had coined her that atrocious moniker. One thing Delta did not take well was being called by any other name than her own. Perhaps if she was as fired up as Dom had been lately the fumes of her anger would've been noticeable, but she settled for her words to display this, "I will rip those glasses off of your face and shove them so far inside of you that even you can see you're made of sh*t." With anger built up Delta had to unleash it and luckily she had multiple victims to choose from. She flicked her eyes from Wyatt to Oakley who stood close together, how did they know one another?

Oakley followed Wyatt's gaze to a familiar face. "Del?" Her eyes drifted as she noticed the coloured bodies above the grey ones. Most were familiar faces -- Thayne, Dom, even James and Nate! She hadn't seen them for so long! But, where exactly were they? It felt like some strange dream.

"Oakley, got yourself another pathetic boyfriend? I guess you can't do much worse than a dog," she shrugged and moved onto her next target, James, who she was pleasantly shocked to see. "James Hazen in the flesh or whatever. I'm glad you haven't died so that I still have the honor of doing it myself." A smirk settled in nicely when she locked her gaze on the final person, Nate. "It's cool you're still alive, kill anymore people? I know I have," Delta said with a light laugh toward Ice Boy. The others were of little to no importance and thus Delta spared herself from having to look at them for too long.

"Am I dead?" Those were the first words to escape James' lips after sitting up in the ominous place with dead bodies. He was never sure he believed in the fiery hell that everyone always preached, but for some reason, even with the corpses underneath him, it didn't feel like he was dead. But he did feel...hollow. After examining his clothes and body below, all of the marks, aches and bruises he had received from his nightly adventures were gone. When he realized exactly what he was sitting on top of, he quickly shot up. It wasn't until he heard others speak that he realized he wasn't the only one among the living there. That is, if they were living.

"Heh...Del, right?" He began, giving the girl a smirk, before moving on to the others gathered around, the ones he was familiar with anyway. "Oakley, you're here too? And Nate?" His instincts told him to assume he was now dreaming, but he never knew dreams to produce such vivid portraits of faces he never had seen before, both dead and alive. James' eyes set on another among the gathered Atlanteans. "Hmm...you look familiar too," he said to Dom.

"Look familiar!?" They had all just arrived and Dom was already enraged. "I'll show you something familiar!" He hadn't seen James at the beginning and wished Delta had never pointed him out at all. Dom hated seeing that face which had a tendency to look very smug very quickly. Despite everything that kept him busy, Dom had found time to finally train and at the moment he was more than ready to put it to use.

The second Dom spoke, James instantly put his face together with his voice and remembered who he was. The fight with the fire Atlantean was, after all, one of the highlights of his Atlantean life. "Ooooh, right," James remarked, a smile creeping over his face. "I've been waiting for a chance to meet up with you again for a looong time," He added, clenching his fists as he prepared to siphon electricity toward his arms and hands. "Wanna dance again?"

"Let's tango." Dom and James began to charge their powers, a method that would send their respective elements bursting from their palms--at least, in any other place. Here in the body-filled dream no such thing would occur. "What the hell?!"

James stared wide-eyed at his hands, a wave of panic beginning to form on his face at the sudden, unexpected thought of no longer possessing his ability. James pointed again at Dom and tried to fire, but once again, no sign of his ability emerged. It was only at this moment that he realized that no numbing or tingling sensation was present on his arms at all. "Well...sh*t."

"James! Knock it off!" Nathaniel said, finally catching on to what he intended to do with the other presumed Atlantean. Naturally, he was unsure of where he was and how he got there but he had learned a long time ago that logic was best tossed aside from time to time, when abrupt and difficult to explain things arose from seemingly nowhere. The place he found himself was frightening with its strange ambiance and even stranger physics. Powers seemed to be cancelled out by something. No amount of thought would bring Nathaniel to answer, but he would have to try in due time.

Dom's sudden lack of a power caught him off guard. It had been with him long enough to get comfortable with it, especially when it came to possibly using it. But let's be realistic here, he'd only been working with his flames for about a month, he didn't need those to fight. Dom balled his hand into a fist and advanced on James, ready to throw his punch. Seeing Dom advance toward him despite still being surprised at his lack of powers, James prepared to defend himself by holding his hands in front of him in an attempt to block his punch. It didn't take long for Dom's punch not to connect, not to land, but pass through James' hands and body. He stumbled to catch himself, once again by his powerlessness in this disturbing place. On the sidelines Delta and Thayne couldn't help but let out a fit of laughter. James looked behind him, seeing Dom pass straight through him, wondering where the hell they were. He looked silently down at his hands again, which he noticed began to tremble slightly.

Nathaniel walked toward the feuding Atlanteans and tried to position himself between the two of them, as useless as it was. Any amount of logic and observation would decipher that violence, no matter what kind was just about pointless. "If the two of you are done looking like complete morons, you would notice that fighting is impossible here. Put your...whatever the hell is with you two aside and let's let cooler heads prevail." Nathaniel glared at both James and Dom, trying a different approach as he remembered his old friend's affinity for violence. "Let me put it this way. If you want to fight, we'll need to get out of...here first. So let's work on that and then you can settle whatever your score you have."

"I think we should figure out where here is first," Thayne said to the group. It was odd to see all these Atlanteans in one place (especially since a lot of them appeared to be dead.) It looked like he knew the group for the most part, while others seemed like forgotten, yet recognizable faces. Of course, the hot-headed Dom had immediately jumped into a fight with another one of the gathered people. "Better yet, why are we here?"

Ignoring Nate, James once again raised his arm in the air, pointing it at Dom and trying once again to fire some lightning at him. He shook his arm multiple times, trying to get some sort of reaction, yet nothing came. He couldn't feel anything inside him, not like he used to. He tried to look around for a mirror to see if his tattoo was still even present on his neck, but instead angrily tried shooting at Dom a few more times, before moving his hands over to the latest person to speak. He tried to fire something out with both hands, attempting multiple times to get some reaction, before finally giving up. He sighed deeply, slumped onto the ground and stared blankly on the floor. James seemed either to be unaware of the bodies below him, or simply didn't care.

"Are you finished?" Nathaniel finally asked. "About time you realized that trying to kill us is pointless?" He walked over to James glaring down at the slumped man. "I have my own issues with you, Hazen, like why you tried to kill Nix, but unlike you I can actually control myself for more than a few minutes," he added, dropping his voice down to a stern, low level. "But now isn't the time to go all psychotic and trigger happy on us to prove yourself. Not that killing us will prove much of anything, other than you are threat to everything and everyone." He turned to the others, effectively ignoring James and distancing himself from the man he could once consider a friend. "Thayne brings up a good point. We need figure where here is as well. Not fight. If we can manage to put our differences aside, we may be able to get back to the real world."

"Good to see you too, Nate," James replied cheerlessly, not lifting his eyes up from the 'blank' space of bodies he had been staring at.

The demonstration that had just occurred between James and Dom brought Delta back to Paris. That was her first true testament as an Atlantean, the first time she was actively able to display her powers. She recalled how Ice Boy had told her to step aside like she was some fragile being and how he barked orders like he was some sort of leader. Delta had gotten fed up with him then and those same feelings resurfaced. James seemed... different, albeit she had only known him for a brief moment, but his eyes were no longer the same ones Delta had looked upon. It appeared as if The Librarian's trio was officially broken, Nate's speech highlighted that fact.

"You're not in charge of what we do or how do we things, as much as you would like that," Delta stepped forward, and crossed her arms, another act, besides her tone of voice, which displayed her not-so-happy attitude. "If you were going to kill someone, you should've started with him instead of the easy targets," Delta turned her head towards James then pointed at Nate, "That way we wouldn't have to hear him speak about the right way to do things."

Delta's smirked stayed put, she remembered how haunted he seemed about killing, but also how quickly he brought it up, "Oh, speaking of controlling ourselves, how in control were you when you murdered that guy?"

"That was then and this is now," Nathaniel said, his eyes glaring at Delta. He hadn't still redeemed himself fully, at least in his own mind but he can come terms with it. Dwelling on the past would not accomplish thing. He had to look towards the future. He wanted to clarify that he never intended to kill him, but that would only admit weakness. It was apparent that in this group, strength was everything. "I did what I had to. And that is what I am doing now. It seems if one of us does not step up to be the leader, we won't accomplish anything. We will do what we have done in this past few moments. Doesn't seem very productive now does it?" Nathaniel asked almost sarcastically as he walked closer towards Delta.

"And James did what he had to," Delta said, keeping her eyes locked onto him. "If that was then and this is now, why are you bringing it up? You seem to let yourself off easy and yet punish others for the exact same crime, well, not exactly the same since James' is still alive..." Delta said before stepping forward. She felt pretty unthreatened by his approach, with or without powers she would take him down a peg or two eventually, might as well start now. "I don't know what the ARF has accomplished... Oh wait, yes, I do. Let their mansion get invaded, can't train their students, having students constantly leave, they have terrible leaders, and overall being a very subpar organization of Atlanteans that will end up six feet under if I ever come across them, but don't project that onto the rest of us." She had made it a point to gesture to Thayne during the appropriate part.

"And you want us to think that you're capable of being a leader? Step aside, you're nothing but fruit of the poisonous tree," Delta laughed, at this point there were only centimeters between them. Even with her heels on his was still taller than her as well as larger than her in almost every aspect.

"Hey, hold on," Dom started, addressing both Delta and Nathaniel. "First of all, who said anything about a leader? I don't need a leader, especially not you," he said directly to Nate. "I don't even know who you are! And you're from the ARF?" Dom shook his head, "Oh yeah, absolutely not. And you two look like you're about to fight. Didn't we just go over that with this guy?" He gestured to James, who had already made him angry with that whole lightning bolt thing. It was really just the dream-space that spared everyone from the heat of his anger. Well, that and he'd been talking to Julian, but those training sessions might not be working for an out-of-class session. "So can you two stop wasting time? Because I just want to get out of here and this looks like it's holding me up."

Thayne couldn't help but agree with Del, not that any of it was necessarily important. The ARF hardly had a good track record. After all, they had at least twenty plus kids kidnapped during the invasion. Looking away from the arguing group, he eyed the little girl standing behind them. Her stare and smile only made him shiver. She had to be the reason they were all there. Was she an Atlantean too? he thought as she looked upon them. There couldn't be another explanation, could there?

Oakley's brain had finally caught up with what she was watching, blinking at the familiar faces of Nate and James that had seemed to have changed so much. She had changed too, she had to add. How had they been since they had parted ways in Paris? The arguments that erupted between the group didn't surprise her (it was something that she had experienced a lot in the past few weeks) but at the same time, she wanted everyone to just... get along. She felt like she was the only one who didn't have any beef with anyone. Well, that might be because she didn't hold a grudge. Or because she was too naive and stupid to hold anything against anyone.

Austin woke up with a crick in his neck, and a sore chest. He popped his neck by pushing his palm into his jaw from left to right, and yawned. Suddenly aware of his surroundings, he noticed several people arguing back and forth in front of him. Rolling his eyes, he got out of his strangely uncomfortable bed and stretched. He was no stranger to mental illness, and this was clearly an illusion. Or dream. Something. Austin walked closer and saw that he actually knew some of these people. Wyatt from Paris and Nate from the mansion, to be exact. He somewhat recognized the others but he just assumed they were various people he had walked past in New York or something. Now people started noticing him as he took his spot in the throng of people.

"James and Nate," she said, mainly to herself, desperately wanting to ask them how they had been, though it seemed a little pointless considering the situation they were in. She had to ask herself again if she was dreaming, though it was just too vivid to question it. She peered around the group to notice the small girl who had been standing there with a strange smile on her face. The way she stood there, it reminded Oakley of something from a horror movie. Oakley raised her voice, hoping somebody might stop arguing and hear her. "Maybe we she should ask her."
​

 

[Swolligator]

Library of Souls / Akashic Records

November 21st/22nd, 2012

While all the Atlanteans who had been brought into her dreamscape argued, Selephial waited patiently for them to finish. Unlike these children she had all the time and patience in the world and several of them looked like they had issues to work out with one another. She figured they would get around to acknowledging her when they were finished, so she simply waited. She smiled when Oakley finally pointed her out to the others, despite having spoken to Wyatt previously, and she waited for the rest to quieten and look to her.

"Hello!" she said rather cheerfully, "my name is Selephial! And you all are the World Changers!" She clapped happily as she bounced on her toes. Even two thousand years old and she still acted like a child.

"What are the 'World Changers'?" Wyatt asked the little girl cautiously.

"They change the world, silly. Those people behind you were World Changers too," she commented pointing to the pile of bodies lying behind them. "Every generation there are different World Changers with different abilities. They affect the world in many ways and that is their purpose. Some pass, others fail." She seemed rather grim when it came to mentioning the possibility of failure, making Wyatt gulp nervously.

"But you weren't brought here for me to explain everything to you; you're only here to hear my prophecy!"

Selephial's wide grin soon turned sour as tears began brimming at the edges of her eyes. It pained her to see all the horror and devastation sometimes and even the good moments seemed brief in comparison. She always hated when this happened but she had no way of controlling it; it felt like her ability was taking over her body for its own purposes. With eyes clouded over and darting to and fro, she began seeing blurry pictures, all mixed up and flickering across her vision almost too fast to register. The only words she could muster were cryptic:

"The future is dark, shadows control all
The future is clear, everything is ephemeral
The future is cold, separation the key
The future is sturdy, peace and prosperity
The future is bright, chaos reigns supreme…" ​

The Oracle drifted off at this last line, furrowing her brow as she saw something troubling that the others did not. From his position Wyatt could catch sight of the other eight Atlanteans that now stood before the Oracle and wondered just who she was talking about. When she finally spoke Wyatt couldn't help but feel it directed at certain individuals.

"The harbingers of light must each choose their tool: Mirror, Sword or Jewel. For one shall wield all three, the true Sol rise."​

Following each prophecy, she lightly touched the hand of each Atlantean associated with the prophecy causing another tattoo to bloom. The tattoo bore the same resemblance to the ones borne by the many corpses piled up behind them yet appeared of differing parts of the body. As she reached Charlotte and Wyatt, the Oracle faltered, almost not wishing to give either of them the mark. Wyatt got the feeling that for both of them the previous prophecy did not apply.

"To heal or harm, aid or aggravate; the two who follow this path bear not the woes of others, but the woes of themselves." ​

She made contact with both of them at the same time, delivering a very similar tattoo to them as she had the others. Wyatt rubbed his wrist as he felt the itching sensation of the tattoo burning into his skin. Unlike his previous tattoo which was three solid objects, this one seemed to be made up of many small lines feeling like ants crawling over his wrist. When it was finished he looked to the inside of his wrist at the arrangement of sharp lines and circles. The Oracle then stepped back, smiling proudly at the collection of Atlanteans standing before her. She hoped that this time around they were more successful than the ones before them.

"Thank you Selephial, you've done a wonderful job as always," Suddenly a large, Mediterranean man dressed in a suit appeared behind the Oracle; his hand resting on her shoulder. She smiled up at him like a sister would an older brother; comforted by his presence.

He started to address everyone, "In the Human world, my alias is Lucas Cypher, but like my darling sister here, I am too Atlantean. Lucifer is my name. I brought you all here with the intent of explaining everything you need to know. As you all know, you're the new generation of World Changers; how lucky for you all. The World Changers are a select few of Atlantean/Human hybrids that possess the possibility of changing the course of the world. Like Selephial informed you, each generation has their fair share of World Changers and this is possibly the biggest turnout I've even seen. But I digress. That tattoo that you have each received is not only the mark of a World Changer, but another facet of your Atlantean selves. It will allow you to reach and control the higher echelons of your ability quicker among other things. No matter how you try, you will also never forget the prophecy. It has a way of cementing itself in your memory so that you can call it up at any time. Only one of you will prevail in the end, however, so from this point on you are no longer friends, but enemies." Lucas saw Wyatt shift his gaze towards his sister and smiled; sibling fights were always the most enjoyable.

"But before you all go," Lucas waved his hands and the fog lifted to reveal a large library with an ancient looking façade surround them all as they stood in a courtyard; the bodies nowhere to be seen. Tall pillars stretched high to a roof that seemed to be several stories up resting above the clouds. The man walked them all closer to what appeared to be a large archway that led into the main foyer of the library, "This is the Library of Souls. As each of you ventures through this archway, you will find yourself in a separate wing of the building. There you will meet one of the beings who came before who will explain more things to you." Waving at them all, Selephial childishly skipped through the archway, her body disappearing as she skipped under the arch.

"Through their dreams, any Atlantean can access this old archive and the information pertaining to them that it holds. It may take some practice at first, but if you visualise your library before you sleep then you should go there as soon as you fall asleep. When you step through this arch, you will be separated from the others as no two people can trespass the same wing."

Wyatt was the first to step forward, feeling compelled by the library to proceed. He stopped just before the arch, gingerly stretching his arm forward to see it disappear, but it simply grew dark under the shadow of the arch. Confused, Wyatt stepped forward, expecting to appear in the foyer he could see beyond the arch but stopped suddenly as Lucas, or Lucifer, spoke.

"Before you go there is also something I have neglected to mention. As I said previously, one of the World Changers will become the victor and one of the Harbingers will become the true Sol. That final battle will occur in one month's time. I suggest you all train hard to make it a worthy fight." Lucas soon left as he was there one minute and gone the next. Pushing forward, Wyatt stepped through the dark veil beneath the arch and into the Library of Souls.

"Welcome to the Library of Souls, Wyatt Cale." The tall, lanky figure bent down on its four joint legs to rest its face in front of his. It would have been a stretch to say that the figure was humanoid, despite its rather human like legs, arms and face. Its legs appeared human, but on closer inspection he could see what looked like two ankle joins connected by muscle half the size of what he assumed were its calves; one above the other. Its arms were very human, but its hands only supported four fingers as one looked like it could act as a thumb. Aside from that it stood almost hunched over with a hairless tail gently sweeping behind it and a slightly elongated neck. Its pale grey skin looked leathery and seemed drawn tight over its muscles. A strange creature, what made it even stranger was that the creature talked to him yet it had no mouth. He couldn't help but stare at the blank skin where the creature's mouth ought to be.

"How-how do you know my name? What is this, what did he call it, Library of Souls?" Wyatt couldn't stop gawking and marvelling at the freakish grey creature that stood before him. He had to hold back on the urge to touch the two giraffe-like horns sticking out from the top of its head.

The weird alien-human thing waved its four-fingered hands at the paintings on the walls around them. "Look around you, Halfling, we are in the Library of Souls. Also called the Akashic Records, this library is a record of all those Atlanteans and half-breeds that possessed the ability of Optikinesis before you. For each person, the Library appears in differing forms; as yours appears in paintings, someone else's could be statues or even books." Wyatt soon found himself walking alongside the tall creature as they strolled through the hall of paintings.

They stopped for a moment at a painting that looked like a scene from one of the World Wars. In a crumbling clock tower a man was looking down the barrel of a sniper rifle as Allied forces marched below unaware. Wyatt felt like he knew the man, and looking at his eyes he could see the painting changing the colour of the man's eyes. Tripping out on it, he decided to move to the next picture which seemed even older. The picture this time was a woman standing triumphantly with one foot on a rock, posing as if she was the most important thing on earth. In the background he could see men carrying crates and Wyatt felt like she had discovered new, uncharted lands.

"You're… not human, are you some sort of Atlantean?" Wyatt wasn't quite sure about the creature standing next to him, then again he wasn't even sure about where he was. Every picture he looked at in this place made him feel like he was having a deep sense of Déjà vu and he was beginning to feel ill.

"Far from it," the creature spoke and Wyatt figured it was somehow projecting its thoughts outwardly. "I am Lemurian, or as they Atlanteans say 'The ones who came before'. We lived on this planet long before the Atlanteans arrived and took great care in living harmoniously with it. Spiritual in nature, we were the ones to teach Atlanteans how to unlock their chakra's and subsequently use their abilities. They branded themselves with dark marks to signify the abilities they unlocked as the more they had, the more prestigious they saw themselves." Wyatt thought on it for a moment, laughing at the idea. The way everyone had made it seem like having abilities was something to do with being Atlantean, but in actual fact it was these creatures, these Lemurians that made it all possible in the first place.

"So what's your name, Mister Curator?" He asked a little sarcastically than he had intended.

"We Lemurians have no name, we are just our beings. My Atlantean name, Camael, I believe it means 'one who sees' in your tongue." He looked at Wyatt with those big, round blue eyes and Wyatt couldn't help but shiver as he felt a shock rocket up his spine.

"Then how are we here? How are you here?" Wyatt had so many questions spinning in his head that no doubt this Lemurian could read.

"The Library exists on a separate plane of existence. Through that Atlantean mind of yours, you can access only this portion of the Library that houses all knowledge of the predecessors of your ability. As for me, I am simply an echo of my former self. As I passed on knowledge to my Atlantean students, so did I pass on the memory of myself. The Atlanteans built these Libraries so they could share their knowledge for generations to come. When we Lemurians passed away and our ashes scattered to the winds, we dedicated our souls to maintaining the knowledge stored in this plane." Wyatt could almost detect sadness in the Lemurian's voice. This creature had been haunting these desolate halls for thousands of years; it seemed like a rather sad and isolated afterlife to live.

"If this place is meant to be a library then where are all the books?" Every time the Lemurian referenced this place, he called it a library, yet Wyatt couldn't see a book in sight. It felt like a single, endless corridor of paintings.

"As your predecessor, Kostya, often spoke, 'a picture is worth a thousand words'. Each Library shapes itself to suit the user; your ability allows you to see beyond the simple two dimensional image. Go on, have a try." The Lemurian gestured at the closest picture of a woman sitting high atop a throne.

Wyatt turned to the nearest painting of a girl on horseback. When he looked at the painting, all he could see was the still image of the horse racing through a meadow. After several minutes it seemed like he had looked at every inch of the painting and it still hadn't changed from the static image. He was about to turn around and complain to the Lemurian when he caught a small bit of motion within the painting. Looking closer he noticed a couple of yellow flowers gently swaying to and fro in the wind. As he focussed more on the flowers, the landscape around them began to grow into motion until Wyatt felt like it enveloped his entire vision and he was at some bird's eye view of the whole scene. He felt himself move along and descend towards the ground, approaching the girl as she brought her horse to a stop. He was now close enough to be able to touch her yet he had no hands to do so with; no body either. He was a ghost was he watched the scene unfold before him.

The wind whipped through her dress as the horse sped through the open meadow. Wyatt got the feeling that she was busy trying to escape from something or someone hot on her tail. However when he looked back to see he couldn't see anything. Following alongside she soon came upon a lone man saddled on a horse. From the hill he could see her making her way to him but also those that were chasing her. Bringing their horses closer together the two locked lips for several moments causing Wyatt to turn around and give them some privacy. When he tried to walk away from the scene, he was forced back after a few steps. Obviously while in the memory he was unable to stray too far from the person whose memory it was.

They spoke several hushed words; Wyatt trying to overhear them but the only word he could pick up was 'Dusk'. Looking to the west he could see the sun setting rapidly and a sense of emergency picking up between them before taking up opposing directions. As the sun set Wyatt could tell it was getting dark, everything becoming harder to see. When he looked at the girl however, her eyes lit up like his and he knew that she could see better now. For some reason his ability kicked in as she used hers, despite not being able to use it in the dreamscape or in the library. He continued to watch as she manoeuvred around trees with simple ease; even steering the horse away from a hole that would have sent it sprawling.

He could feel his heart pounding as if he was in this girl's shoes. He didn't know where she was going nor what her agenda was but he felt the importance of it resonating within his own body. Slowly, he could see rather large walls appear on the horizon and slowly creep forward as light illuminated upwards. As they approached the walls, Wyatt felt a growing knot appear in his stomach similar in feeling to when he first fell asleep. Wary of the feeling, he decided to let it take him; dragging him from the scene.

When it was all over Wyatt felt himself pushed back until he had returned to the Library wing. It felt like he had actually been inside of the picture but something told him that the picture was just a median for travel and that he had gone into the memory of his past life. At first he looked down at his hands, slightly glad that they were back and then up at the painting. The scene had now shifted, the girl no longer riding her horse through a paddock but rather scaling the walls of a castle.

"These are all your past lives, Wyatt, and while in the Library you have access to each and every one of them. Whether you learn from their mistakes or repeat them; that is for you to decide. I will always be here if you need to talk, so you know where to find me. Good luck, Mister Cale, and may the light of the universe guide you."

Wyatt again felt himself being dragged back. His voice got stuck in his throat but as much as he struggled to yell or to stay where he was the more he seemed to be pulled away from the scene. He wasn't ready to leave; he still had many questions left unanswered. Everything blurred and his body now felt a lot heavier than the lightness he had grown accustomed to in this dreamscape. When he awoke, Wyatt sat upright in his bed breathing heavily. His whole body was drenched in sweat and his sheets stuck to him like glue. It had all been a dream yet it didn't feel like it. Throwing the covers off of his bed and peeling his uniform from his body, Wyatt jumped into the shower.

As the water washed over his body, Wyatt began recounting to himself the entire sequence of the dream that had occurred so vividly. Arguing with Oakley, the prophecy he could recount word by word, Lucifer and the library not to mention the creature, the Lemurian. It was all a lot of information to take in as he stood there underneath the torrent of hot water. If there were one person who could explain it all, then Wyatt would need to go see him. It was time he had a talk with the Blind Prophet.​

 

[Lt. Col. Fantastic]

Library of Souls

November 21st, 2012

Was this a dream? It couldn't be, in dreams you never wonder if you're dreaming. But this was all too weird to be real. Then again, it was too real to be an illusion. A World Changer… it felt strange to be referred to as something so…important. Austin paid close attention to the prophecy as Selapial walked around the group.

"The future is dark, shadows control all
The future is clear, everything is ephemeral
The future is cold, separation the key
The future is sturdy, peace and prosperity
The future is bright, chaos reigns supreme…
The harbingers of light must each choose their tool:
Mirror, Sword or Jewel.
For one shall wield all three, the true Sol rise
To heal or harm, aid or aggravate;
the two who follow this path bear not the woes of others,
but the woes of themselves."​

The true Sol… well sol meant Sun, or One. There must be a sort of head honcho in the World Changer Business, probably the ones who aren't dead in the corner over there.

Austin gulped at the thought of having to compete with these folks. The two he saw in Paris especially, fire and lightning. How could he compete with the likes of those? And poor Wyatt, what good would his bow do against fire man?

"Thank you Selephial, you've done a wonderful job as always," said a tall man in a suit as he appeared behind the little girl. For some odd reason it seemed like he was her dad, or maybe an older brother in the way he addressed her.

He started to address everyone, "In the Human world, my alias is Lucas Cypher, but like my darling sister here, I am too Atlantean. Lucifer is my name. I brought you all here with the intent of explaining everything you need to know. As you all know, you're the new generation of World Changers; how lucky for you all. The World Changers are a select few of Atlantean/Human hybrids that possess the possibility of changing the course of the world. Like Selephial informed you, each generation has their fair share of World Changers and this is possibly the biggest turnout I've even seen. But I digress. That tattoo that you have each received is not only the mark of a World Changer, but another facet of your Atlantean selves. It will allow you to reach and control the higher echelons of your ability quicker among other things. No matter how you try, you will also never forget the prophecy. It has a way of cementing itself in your memory so that you can call it up at any time. Only one of you will prevail in the end, however, so from this point on you are no longer friends, but enemies. But before you all go," Lucas waved his hands and the fog lifted to reveal a large library with an ancient looking façade surround them all as they stood in a courtyard; the bodies nowhere to be seen. Tall pillars stretched high to a roof that seemed to be several stories up resting above the clouds. The man walked them all closer to what appeared to be a large archway that led into the main foyer of the library, "This is the Library of Souls. As each of you ventures through this archway, you will find yourself in a separate wing of the building. There you will meet one of the beings who came before who will explain more things to you." Waving at them all, Selephial childishly skipped through the archway, her body disappearing as she skipped under the arch.

"Through their dreams, any Atlantean can access this old archive and the information pertaining to them that it holds. It may take some practice at first, but if you visualize your library before you sleep then you should go there as soon as you fall asleep. When you step through this arch, you will be separated from the others as no two people can trespass the same wing. "Before you go there is also something I have neglected to mention. As I said previously, one of you will become the victor. That final battle will occur in one month's time. I suggest you all train hard to make it a worthy fight." Auatin gulped again. Wyatt seemed to be the first to act, stepping almost immediately through the arch. He seemed like the type of guy who would make a great leader, always doing stuff like he already knew the outcome. Austin didn't want to get shown up by him, so he jogged to the door and went in second.

~~~​

Through the other side, Wyatt was gone, and instead there was a freakish, grey creature looking at Austin, who flinched at the sight of it. The room itself was almost pitch black, with small orbs of light hanging above. Along the walls, doorways made of opaque white fog stood, each with an orb above them.

"Ah, the Tseng boy," the creature started…well, talking, but without the necessary vocal body parts typically required for speech, such as a mouth. The rest of the creature was all legs, a short torso, and somewhat normal arms with strange alien hands. Oh, and it had a tail. No antennae, however.

"You know, your coming has been heard in many Tsengs throughout the ages."The creatures eyes smiled and Austin swore it shook with laughter, even though no sound came out. "I apologize, I say that joke every time a Tseng comes in here. Which isn't often, mind you. You're a special lad." He bent down and looked into Austins face, analyzing him. "Ah, yes, I see it. They all thought I was joking, when I said your specific family made its way to the Far East. Korean, I believe you're called by your peers."

Austin backed away a little bit, "How do you know my family? Have they been here too?"

"Oh, not the family you're thinking of," the creature said, "in the Library of Souls, I hold knowledge over every Atlantean to live with your specific ability. You belong in a family of Lumokinetics, ones like you who have harvested the power of the Sun as light. I am called Sorath by you Halflings and Atlanteans."

"So…you're not an original Atlantean?" Austin inquired.

"Heavens no, child. I am Leamurian. We were the ones who made the Atanteans what they were thousands of years ago. And through them, are responsible for the success of mankind."

"So…you're like an ancient race that lived on Earth?"

"That's what I just said, isn't it?"

Austin shook his head, "Okay, so ignoring all of that, what kind of library is this anyway? Where are the books?" Sorath shook again.

"This is the Library of Souls, or, Sols, in this case." He chuckled again at his pun, "Here, memories are stored, not words. Look around you." Austin looked around, and as he did, it became more apparent to him. Each orb was slightly different. All were white, about the size of a baseball, and moving slowly, but each swirled differently, some were opaque and some faint. These were souls, the souls of those who could control the light. Austin walked up to one. It seemed to be beckoning him closer. He reached out and brushed it with his fingers. Suddenly, the soul unraveled, swirling itself into the shape of a man. He filled out in color, and descended to the ground with closed eyes. As his feet touched down, he opened his eyes, looking straight into Austin. Clothes materialized on him, and it became apparent that this was one of the first Lumokinetics. He wore tattered fur clothes, no shoes, and had long, mangy brown hair that seemed matted beyond belief. Not exactly a caveman, but an early civilian no doubt. He pointed to a doorway.

"This is one of my star pupils, a vagabond of sorts, yet he had a real knack for the light. He left only a few years after his training, and traveled very far away from the Mediterranean. He died in Eastern Europe, around the country you know as Ukraine."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Oh, him? Nothing in particular. I just thought he was an interesting character.Now, I know this all exciting and I'm sure you're dying to see your other ancestors, there is one more thing we must do before our little self discovery.' Austin broke his attention from the vagabond and looked back to Sorath, interested.

"As your prophecy told, you are one of the Harbingers of Light, one who has the potential to become the one true Sol. And as such, you are to choose an item that will aide you on your journey to defeat the other two Harbingers, and in that way receive their items that had aided them to defeat you." As he said this last line, three floating items hovered in the air before Austin. A short bronze sword that looked as it had come fresh off the set of Gladiator, a small, round mirror hanging on a chain, and an ornate necklace with a jade jewel on the (supposed) end.

"The Sword, The Mirror, and The Jewel. Each one will go to each of the three Harbingers of Light."

"Wait, what if we all pick the same one?"

"You won't."

"But what if w-"

"You won't."

"Okay…" Austin rubbed his hands together in thought. The Sword…the mirror, or the jewel…

Austin 17 peered over his shoulder, "Sword."

Austin 8 pulled 17 away and said, "No, mirror!"

Austin reached for the Jewel. 17 and 8 sighed.

"What a moron! If you would have just told him sword too, he would have listened to us!"

"Sword?! That's the only one worse than Jewel! Mirror, was the correct choice!" Austin sent a mental kick in the shins to each of them and they shut up.

"Ah! The Jewel. Well, that is a fine choice, especially for one with your utilitarian abilities. The Jewel is possibly the safest choice out of the three. It will give the wearer a sort of sixth sense, allowing them to know of any danger headed their way. The Jewel can also be used by saying the word 'Apodrasi'." Sorath leaned closer and whispered, "It means 'escape' in Greek…" Leaning back up, he said, "And with that, lets meet your ancestors." Austin put the necklace around his neck and turned back to the vagabond.

Another soul spiraled down beside the vagabond, unswirling to become a man as well. He was shorter than the last, bald, and wore a toga and sandals. The next, a tall gaunt man wearing a cloak that covered almost every inch of his body. More souls lined up, each a little more different than the last. Finally, it came to a Korean woman in a lime green silk dress decorated with dark green flowers, with a brilliant headpiece fixed with a sun-shaped ornament on her crown. They all pointed at the same gate. Austin looked at each person carefully, and stopped at the Korean woman. She looked back at him, smiled, and then went back to staring at the fog gate. A little creeped out, Austin walked through the gate.

Immediately he had to squint. The sun was bright, and beaming down upon him. It was about midday, with strong winds and not a cloud in sight. The ground was completely covered in wet ice, and it was hard to move without slipping. Austin heard several people speaking in a language he didn't quite understand behind him. He turned, and saw dozens of canoes floating toward his position. In the lead canoe sat a man with a long, white beard. He pointed at Austin, though he didn't seem to notice him there, and the canoes shifted position slightly to make landing where he stood. He held up his hands to the sun, making strange shapes with them and squinting through it. He must have seen something good in his hands as he started yelling with glee. Everyone was dressed in thick wool coats and pants, with seal skin boots.

"This is the Bering Strait!" Austin exclaimed as he put it together. Nobody seemed to hear him, however. The canoes touched the ice and the people started cheering. The white bearded man was the first to step onto the land. He beamed, turned around and raised his hands high. The rest of the tribe soon followed, pouring onto the ice and patting the man on the back. Austin turned back around and realized he was standing on the first spot mankind saw of America. Suddenly, everything surged around him, as if life was in fast forward. Time stopped, and Austin almost threw up as he realized he was standing atop a high stone structure.

Taking a step back, he pressed against the wall of a small house-like building. Below him a crowd roared, cheering. The sun was setting, and its light shone through the doors of another structure – A pyramid. Austin looked down again and realized that he too was standing on a pyramid. Suddenly the crowd grew very quiet. Austin strained to hear a noise coming from inside the stone house. It sounded like a hymn, or some form of chanting. And then screams echoed throughout the valley. Austin winced as he realized he was listening to a sacrifice. After the screaming stopped, a blood soaked priest dressed in all black walked out of the stone building. Austin felt the same sensation he had on the boat as the priest opened his arms wide and let the light pour into him. The something new happened. The priest disappeared, and instead of him was a bright, shining beacon, illuminating the valley to become day again.

The crowd roared in approval as Austin was sucked back to another place. Gasping as if he had just gotten the wind knocked out of him, Austin looked around to find himself back in the Library of Souls.

"As you can see, the light of the sun has intrigued your ancestors very much," Sorath chuckled again, "And although I doubt you'll be sacrificing countless men for no reason at all, you should be wary of the choice you must make. Light can guide, but light can also blind. You hold the power of a dual-edged blade. The infinite truth is yours to grab a hold of, but sometimes it is best to leave things in the dark." With that, Austin awoke back in his bed, sweating profusely. Austin 17 sat on his dresser, swinging his legs while 8 looked in his mirror.

"First things first," started Austin 17.

"You should talk to Nate. After you shower." Austin 8 said. He wrinkled his nose at the stench.


​

 

[Retro Bug]

Library of Souls

November 21-22nd, 2012

If there was one thing Delta felt right now it was pure satisfaction, as she didn't just bring Ice Boy down a peg or two she completely destroyed all of the pegs. Maybe he would take the hint that his self-righteous approach didn't actually help anyone, that it was a waste of time, and, most importantly, he was a waste of time. Delta opened her mouth again to rub more salt in his wound when Oakley's voice beckoned her attention elsewhere, a child. How had they missed this girl? A girl with fair skin and long, dirty blonde hair, the child seemed especially close to Elpis's age and stood less than a meter away from the group almost as if she had been waiting for them to notice her. Though, Delta felt creeped out by the way the girl stood there in the background and stared. When they had all fallen silent the girl spoke up and introduced herself as some name that Delta knew she wouldn't be able to recall. The child spewed crazy words such as "World Changers" and "prophecy", this all had to be a joke, right? It was something straight out of a Rick Riordan book.

Normally, Delta never knew when she was dreaming yet something told her that this was more than just a dream. It felt real, was it an illusion of some sort? Keenly she watched the girl as she recited her prophecy, some of it seemed obvious, but which part applied to her? Selephial moved around and delivered a simple touch to each member of the group. After she watched several reactions Delta tried to shy away from the girl, a tactic that did not work and like the rest the group the girl's touch brought pain. Memories haunted Delta of the day when she had received her first tattoo, a day that changed her life forever and she had a feeling this day was doing the same. In an effort not show the slightest bit of weakness Delta bit into her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Only to serve as a reminder that her life as an Atlantean involved a lot hurt. When she had refocused her attention Delta noticed a person had spawned behind the oddly dressed girl who called himself Lucifer. Which left Delta quite unsure why anyone would call themselves that. Thankfully, they weren't left with the cryptic and eerie words of the child to go off of, Lucifer explained in more detail. Again, the status of World Changer was repeated, its importance was made clear by this point. The prophecy was brought up along with the reasoning behind the second tattoo. A clear bond was present between Selephial and Lucifer, more so than them explaining some prophecy together.

There was an interesting twist, however, only one of them would become the true World Changer and another the true Harbinger, and Delta knew then and there this is why she had been training. It wouldn't take much thought for her to see these people as her enemies. This was exactly the kind of competition that would place her at the top. After this, everyone would know her name. Soon the man lifted the fog and spoke about a Library of Souls that they had apparently been standing in the entire time. To some the scenery might have been a fine sight, the pillars seen as true works of art. To Delta everything looked old, dusty, and brittle. Eagerness consumed her, but Lucifer had one more thing to lay on them, there was to be a final battle in a month's time and that was where the victor would emerge. To wait a month sounded excessive, especially when three of her competitors slept under the same roof as her.

"Are you always this absent-minded, Ms. Mayor?" A voice loudly called out causing an echo. The voice had startled Delta, one, because there was no one in sight and, two, she was no longer with everyone else. "I'm behind you, Halfling."

Quick to react Delta swung around with her fists up, powers or not, any that tried to sneak up on her would met a swift end. She blinked hard blinks to make sure what she was seeing was real. Whatever this was it was like nothing she had ever seen before, and thank the lord(s) for that. Mesmerized by the sight Delta let her guard down, her arms returned to her side and instead she raised an eyebrow. It was huge and strange, it had black fur with tons of light gray markings on its arms and legs. The legs looked like they were being kept bent incase it needed to leap away at a moments notice. Horns sprouted form its head, though they did not draw attention away from its piercing green eyes, extremely lengthy tail, and the fact that it didn't have a mouth. Was it a primate of some sort? Perhaps, it was one of the first Atlanteans pets that they had forgotten to make into a rug.

"It's been so long since someone hasn't screamed at the sight of me," It communicated, through what means Delta did not know, but then it moved closer to her and by the sound of its voice she bet if it had a mouth it would've been smiling right about now. Fixated on the creature Delta kept her unwavering eyes on its eyes trying to process the thing that stood before her. The beast stopped and spoke once more, "I'm Rahab, a Lemurian and Keeper of the Akashic Records of Crystallization, welcome Delta Mayor."

"It's--" Delta began to address the creature, but was soon cut short.

The two kept up their staring contest as Rahab completed her sentence, "Del, I know, Halfling. It's what your father always called you, though your mother preferred Delta." She grew tense at that statement, her hands reverted to fists, her body posture took on more of a guarded stance, and anger bubbled up to the surface. How could some weird Atlantean creature know that about her? The next person or thing who brought up her parents would die a cruel death, that she promised. Its eyes seemed to be watching her every movement, studying her like she was studying it. "This subject has elicited quite the response," Rahab said knowingly, and as if he read her mind, "I only know what you know and your past lives know, even the memories you've long forgotten."

"My, my what?" She stammered, still caught up on the fact that it had referenced her parents.

"The Akashic Records or the Library of Souls allows you to communicate with past users of your ability, Crystallization. You have access to their lives, their memories, and them," Rahab spoke as if this was to already be known to her. Upon finishing that statement the Lemurian gestured its hand, which Delta had just noticed only had four fingers, toward a shelf beside him. "Oh, and me, though I am not your past life as I am neither Atlantean or Human, or alive for that matter."

"What?" Delta questioned, there was so much information being thrown at her and she was having a hard time absorbing it all. She was one of the many potential World Changers according to some prophecy with access to the Akashic Records that held the souls of Atlanteans that had the Crystallization ability, which was guarded by some ancient dead animal, in order to fight some final battle to fulfill a prophecy, was that all? This thinking was wasting valuable time. Lucifer had already stated that they were able to gain access to this place every time they went to sleep so for now she could do without the exhaustive specifics. A month was all she had left and when she wasn't taking out the competition she had to spend it knowing her ability inside and out. Delta stepped closer to Rahab to prove that she was not scared then she looked up and talked, "You're like the Librarian of this place so take me to the last World Changer that won."

All of her focus had gone on Rahab instead of her surroundings, a mistake that she would not make in battle. There were, or, rather, what she assumed were, steel shelves as far as she could see in every direction. She cautiously walked toward the nearest shelf careful to make sure the Lemurian wasn't in a blind spot. Each section of the shelves was filled in with a different color and type of crystal, the one before her was clear and bumpy, the one above it was red and smooth, and beside that was blue and jagged, but in every one there were outlines of human bodies. Were these the past lives Rahab had referred to?

"Cyntia Fonseca, born in the year 1741 and died almost seventy years later in 1810," Before she knew it she was following the Keeper down the hallway and somehow she managed to avoid being hit by its tail. They took a left, passing more and more shelves, and then a sharp right that caused Delta to bump right into one of the shelves. Rahab pointed downward towards the lowest row where a wooden plank resided stating all the information it had just regurgitated to her. There she slid her hand across the cold, blue sheet of crystal, tracing the outline with a finger or two. "You have to crack the crystal. Don't worry about the mess it all reforms once you're done."

Had this place been made in a design that fit her or were all Atlanteans with Crystallization violent in nature? Her fists slammed several times into the outline of Cyntia, each time blue crystal bits fell to the ground collecting beneath her. Once Delta had finished her work a woman with tan skin dressed in dated clothes with dark brown hair that was fashioned into an up-do stepped forward. She stepped down from the shelf ever so elegantly using the finger the Lemurian offered her. Two brown eyes glared at Delta, Cyntia wiped down her long, silky, green dress that draped across the floor as she walked. For someone so old she looked incredibly youthful.

"You're ever so kind, Rahab," a dainty voice came out of the women. She circled around Delta like a vulture who had finally found a carcass to devour. With her head held high Cyntia asked, "And who are you?"

"Del, World Changer, I want to win and apparently you did," Delta confidentially replied, not willing to feel threatened by the women who kept circling her.

"God, what century do you live in?" Cyntia scoffed, Delta took her question as rhetorical because she knew any answer would not suffice enough to erase the look she had on her face. Her questions kept coming, "Why do they allow you to wear these revealing garments in public? Have you any modesty? Or Shame? The world has truly gone downhill since I left it."

"Look, you old crone, I need to win. A win for me is a win for us and it doesn't seem like there's a lot of winning going on around here. I didn't come here for your fashion advice," Delta harshly retorted, wanting to skip the song and dance that always happened between two people of the same mindset. She didn't have the time to size up this dead women and come out victorious in a meaningless fight.

Cyntia was taken back but impressed enough to even stop her circling and nod, "Fetch me upon your next arrival, you're vastly fading."

Everything around her slowly grew fuzzier, she saw Cyntia's body being sucked back and entombed in crystal once more. Fighting the feeling was useless, she reached out to Rahab trying to grab hold on its fur but her arms failed to move from their position. Her eyes closed and when she opened them she was no longer in the Library of Souls, no, she was in her bed. The plane was where she had fallen asleep, someone must have carried her back to her bedroom. Delta sat up and took in several deep breaths before she saw a familiar figure curled beside her, she removed the hair that hid her face. Warily she stripped back her covers to not wake her sleeping partner and placed her feet on the ground. In the bathroom she lifted her shirt to see a tattoo on the side of her ribcage, the vivid dream was more than just a dream, as she thought. From there she headed to her night stand and opened it, there laid her AUP-issued handgun, she attached the silencer to the barrel of the gun and went toward the door. If everything that had just happened while she was asleep was true then she knew what she had to do next.

As gently as she could Delta opened her door and peeked out, all the lights in sight were dimmed still, which meant no one in this section of HQ was awake. She moved out into the hallway with her body firmly pressed against the wall as she moved and went to the next door closest to hers. With an outstretched arm she clutched one hand around the knob and the other remained tightly gripped on gun she carried. The door opened with a small creak that caused Delta to freeze for a mere second. She entered the room and closed the door behind her, steadily she held the gun aimed at the head of the person that laid on the bed. Step by step she inched closer to her target, there had to be a hundred percent certainty that her first shoot would be her last. Light reflected off a surface that was on the chest of the person, which stopped her from pulling the trigger. A closer look revealed it to be a... mirror. The harbingers of light must each choose their tool: a Mirror, Sword, or Jewel. For one shall wield all three, the true Sol rise.

A sigh escaped Delta's lips, the death of this individual was unnecessary for the moment, but Delta would keep an eye on him. As conscientious as she had walked in Delta walked out and entered her room once more. She slid back into bed after returning her handgun to its proper place then she wrapped her arms protectively around a girl she had grown fond of, Elpis. Things were going to dramatically change now. Bit by bit the little trust she had reserved for her other juniors had started to diminish. The five to seven targets she had left was all that was on her mind, it was too many for her to sit around and wait for the final battle. She still had two more in the Atlantean Unification Project to check out and possibly kill, what would be her move then?
​

 

[Swolligator]

Syndicate HQ, Birmingham, England

November 22nd, 2012


It was still relatively early when Wyatt snuck out of his room and down the hall past the other sleeping Atlanteans. After yesterday no doubt everyone would still be fast asleep. Looking to his watch Wyatt figured he had about an hour to find the Blind Prophet and talk to him before the others would be up for training. Despite having been with the Syndicate for a month now, he knew little other people outside of the Directive, Doctor Meier and Mister Stagg with whom he often crossed paths. As he reached the elevator Wyatt figured the best place to look for the Blind Prophet would be the last place he saw him. Entering the elevator, he pressed a button for several floors up.

When he exited the elevator he was relieved to see that Rose was not sitting in her secretarial seat. Surely it was too early for any of the other staff to be working much less in the headquarters. Pushing the large door open, Wyatt snuck into the office, Darren's nameplate as the COO glintering in the low light cast from the horizon. Softly closing the door behind him, he began walking up to the desk before stopping suddenly. All the hairs on the back of his hair stood up as he realised there was somebody else in the room; sitting in the Boss' chair.

"I knew you would come," the Blind Prophet swivelled around in Darren's chair until his dusky grey eyes matched Wyatt's. Wyatt stood there tensely while the Prophet remained seated calmly. After a tense minute Wyatt moved forward and sat down in the same chair he had when talking to Darren Stagg weeks earlier. "You've had the dream, right? The one with the others like you and met, what was his name again, Camael?"

Wyatt was speechless, how could this man who he had nothing to do with know about his dream and his Lemurian guide. "H-How did you know about that?" He stuttered, not taking his eyes off of the Blind Prophet.

"I went through the same thing," The Blind Prophet lifted his right hand, the sleeve of his shirt falling down to reveal the recent World Changer tattoo that Wyatt and the other's had all been given only moments ago. Subtly Wyatt rubbed the place where his new tattoo had appeared feeling it to still be a little tender.

"You weren't there," Wyatt wracked his memory calling up the other figures that had been standing in front of the pile of bodies and all of them had been young; around his age. "You can't have been there, I don't remember seeing you!"

"It's because for me, I went through it many years ago now. I too went searching for a man to explain it to me, and I'll tell you what he told me." The Blind Prophet leaned forward over the desk, clasping his hands in front of him and leaning his chin on them. For someone who was blind, Wyatt was freaked out by how confident the man was in his actions, "Your path lies in a different direction. Find your father; he's the key to the future. That's all." The Blind Prophet leaned back against his chair.

Wyatt had to admit that he felt a little dejected; he was expecting another massive prophecy to come his way or even an explanation on what everything meant. But this was short and simple. Surely it had to be a mistake or the Blind Prophet was just trying to mess with him. "What does my deadbeat father have to do with any of this?"

The Blind Prophet laughed so low and deep that Wyatt thought it was some evil laugh, "Your father has everything to do with it. As much as I would like to spoil everything for you, this is something you'll have to do on your own. Trust me; it's much more dramatic and surprising if I don't tell you." He smiled as if, behind those cloudy grey eyes, he was recalling a past memory.

"Trust you?" Wyatt let out a laugh; he couldn't believe that this guy implored him to trust when Wyatt barely even knew the guy. "You entered my room like a stalker, probably fed me some weird ass drugs to have crazy dreams, talk in messed up cryptic ways, yeah, there is no way in hell I'm trusting you."

"Eventually you'll stop being such an arrogant ass, Wyatt North, but till then good luck." The Blind Prophet waved him away like he was some servant that could be summoned and dismissed at will before swivelling his chair back around.

"Thanks for nothing, jackass," Wyatt spat as he got up out of his seat. The way the Blind Prophet had dismissed him seemed to make him angrier. The one person who was meant to have all the answers was as good as useless. Storming out of the office, he made a beeline directly for the elevator, jabbing the elevator button half a dozen times until it arrive promptly. Once in, he headed back down to their living quarters, with about half an hour to spare before any of the others awaken.

Wyatt's field of view had been reduced to tunnel vision due to his anger that he failed to notice the man standing off to the side. The tall, Mediterranean man was the same one whom he had seen talking to the Directive after their briefing on the mission. Fixing his tie, Ralph proceeded through the door in which Wyatt had stormed out of, approaching the desk and refusing to take a seat.

"What was that about?" He asked the Blind Prophet as he watched him swivel around in the seat like he owned the entire office.

"A dream, really. He'll come around eventually. Now what can I do for you, Raphael?" The Blind Prophet smirked as he called the man by his true name.

"It's going down in a month, do the children know?" His fingers tapped lightly on the wooden desk much to the dislike of the Blind Prophet.

"The boy confirmed it; Lucifer has put all the kids into play. Things should start getting a lot more interesting now. Anything else?" The Blind Prophet wanted to hurry this little meeting of theirs up, Mister Stagg would arrive at the office with his secretary Rose soon to start the day. He didn't want to still be in the room when the man came in.

"Do you remember who backs whom?" Raphael asked cautiously.

"Gabriel is going to stay out of this one; surprisingly enough considering his enthusiasm for interfering previously. Raguel is busy trying to create her own victory and Selephial will be in her coma. We can use the boy to bring out Michael, but other than that we'll just have to wait and see." The Blind Prophet's eyes wavered as he remembered memories from his past; watching him do so made Raphael a little on edge. He hated working with the man, but he had vital intel that they could use.

"Do you always have to be so difficult to work with?" Raphael asked before heading towards the door.

"No I don't, I just enjoy doing so." As he watched Raphael open the door he cleared his throat to tell the man something else, "I'll also enjoy watching both your children fight."

Raphael's heart skipped a beat, he knew the man had knowledge, but he himself had been hiding that particular knowledge from everyone. No one knew except for himself of the watchful eye he had kept on his children until they went completely off grid a month ago. If either of them were one of this generation's World Changers that the Blind Prophet was talking about then he needed to make sure they survived. Leaving the office he made his way to the elevator, riding it up a couple of floors to return to his office. Moving his mouse the screensaver was cleared away to show the desktop; two baby boys in differing pictures stared up at him from the photos. Smiling at their innocent eyes, he launched the company's emailing application.

To: Daniel Cain <[email protected]>
From: Ralph Aggelos <[email protected]>
Re: New Mission

Daniel,

Come to my office as soon as you get this.
We have urgent matters to discuss.

Ralph.

Ralph Aggelos
Chief Executive Officer | Syndicate Banking
Birmingham, England
e: <[email protected]>​